Words of Wisdom: A Departing Gift

Words of Wisdom: A Departing Gift
Summary: Guinevere goes to visit Princess Amira as she packs to head South, she gives the girl some departing words of wisdom and a gift for her to never forget.
Date: 27/Sep/2013
Related: Two... Three... Four...
Players:
Amira Guinevere 

Brivey Keep - Princess Amira's Room
Passing through the twin oak and rivet doors, the first area visible is a small sitting room boasting the colors of Rhaedan, scarlet and gold, the carpeting soft and plush. A small sofa and single padded chair are converged around a lovely round wooden table with a shiny surface for use as a dining table or for an elaborate tea. Against one of the walls of the sitting room is a large stone fireplace with a tapestry hung above it depicting the Rhaedan Heraldry. Fresh flowers in a bowl are placed on a side table along with a few other feminine touches, sachets of fragrance filled dried flowers, candles.

Directly through the arched and open doorway is the bedroom of the Princess, a large four post canopy bed keep in an ivory, rose and gold colored theme, several throw pillows of varying colors are piled on the bed to decorate. Ivory and gold curtains hang at at each post and can be drawn at will, for when the occupant is asleep. A couple of large armoires are pushed back against the stone wall and there's another fireplace in this room, the tapestry depicting Rhaedan Castle. Twin windows look out over the back of the castle and to the nearby river. A small table contains a wash basin and two identical tables grace each side of the bed with candles and other such items. A filled to bursting bookshelf holds favored stories and an armor stand holds gleaming armor.

Fri Sep 27, 1329

Autumn colours the landscape below, the grass along the river browning, the trees dropping leaves and turning crisp with a vibrant blend of warm tones. The window sill in which she sits offers one of the best bird eye view of the seasonal changes going on below. She can sit, stare, and daydream, or perhaps get lost in the grand mission she's being sent on, while her servants do the packing for her. Of course she's asked every so often if she wants this or that, to which she responds with a disinterested head bob or hand wave. Mostly, though, she is consumed with the landscape below, the castle grounds, and those walking about preparing for whatever daily chores consume them. She's dressed in a simple gown, nothing quite so fancy that will get stuck in the carriage or make her too discomforted in the long ride south. Her travel cloak remains upon her bed, ready to adorn once the rest of the packing has wrapped up.

"Amira. Your Highness…" a singsongy voice comes from the hallway. "My dear, sweet good-sister," Guinevere says as she peeks in the door with a bright, warm smile, "I hear you are packing your trunks, is this word true?" She asks before stepping into the girl's room. "Darling, why do you day dream so?" She wipes a smudge of dirt off of her deep red skirts, inlayed with golden brocade. Her hair is unbound and her complexion is a touch paler than what is her usual. "Amira?"

Amira turns her gaze from the window at the voice that seems to sing into her room, her hands staying in her lap but she systematically smooths down her skirts as a responsive gesture to the hurried invasion into her quarters. "Princess Guinevere," she says with a tone of surprise in her greeting, dipping her head as an equal to her new sister, eyes darting toward the movements of the servants, from handmaidens picking out gowns and neatly backing them so they won't crease or wrinkle on the road South. "Indeed it is," she answers with a conflicted smile, not nearly as truthful as it could be, "You look splendid in those colours, I must say." A compliment granted to the other, words formal and as practiced as they could be. "I was saying good bye, in my own way. I was hoping my sweet brother would come to wish me well before I leave," though something in that sentiment shows her doubts in that. Her blue eyes turn away from Guinevere and back out the window, "It's such a lovely view. I will miss it dearly."

She walks over to her sister looking at her gowns. "I feel as if I never truly changed colors, princess." Guinevere smiles softly as the girl speaks, nodding at the right moments with her hands folded neatly in front of her. She looks out the window and smiles. "Your brother, Guardians know where he is at current. This view will never be missed, my princess, it will stay always in your heart. Going south is not so bad, well, from what I've heard. I have full trust that you will be the perfect representative of the North." She reaches over and moves and errant curl from her face. "I have a gift for you," Guinevere says with a bright smile.

"They belong on you and always have," Amira once again compliments with a quiet smile, not entirely reaching her eyes or dragging her away from the thoughtfulness of what her future has in store for her. Those eyes do come back toward Guinevere, trying not to be rude in the other's company, but it is hard for the young woman not to be caught up in nostalgia and pressing concern for what is to come. "He is a busy man," is all that she remarks on her brother, though it does seem to hurt her a little that Guinevere is here rather than him, sensed in her tone and in her quick averted gaze. Her attention doesn't return to Guinevere until the mention of having a gift, which causes Amira to frown, "You don't need to good sister."

"You're too kind," she furrows her brow just a touch, not anger, just concern writ on her delicate features. "He is busy, but I can guess he will see you off proper, you leave on the morrow, no?" Guinevere sighs lightly at the saddened girl. "I do not have to do many things, my princess, but I do them nonetheless. Here… take a look, I promise you will love it." There is a small leather pouch, lined with fur when opened, inside is a medium-sized silver locket, shaped like a shield and on that shield is the delicate craftsmanship of a master silversmith, two lions rampant and gilded in gold. The eyes of the lions are small rubies and inside is a miniature of the royal palace and Brivey. "You cannot forget who you are, if you always carry it by your heart."

"If the packing is not ready this evening, then yes, as soon as the light touches the horizon we make for our long journey South," something about that, about her, wants to delay that cause. Yet, her face is schooled, a mask of perfection drawn from a woman raised to play the game as it were. Her eyes watch the item as it is presented to her, which does indeed cause the woman to smile softly, a kind smile, one that was honest and grateful. Her delicate fingers reach out to accept the pouch, taking a moment to appreciate the outward design before stretching the mouth of it open to pour out the item inside into the palm of her hand. She gasps quietly at the locket, putting the pouch aside as her fingers run over the shield, the lions, the palace and the brivey. "Oh Guinevere," she is breathless and in the corner of her eyes tears prickle, genuine heartfelt gratitude there, "This is amazing." She holds the lock up as it dangles there, twisting in her hold, those little rubies picking up on the light in the room. Then, with a clutch of her hand, she extends her arms to Guinevere, "Thank you so much."

"Then let it not be, good-sister. One more evening, travel at night is not an advantageous thing right now, bandits and such. I will tell Jerric myself, your father too, if needs be." She beams a smile as Amira appreciates the locket. "I am so very happy you like it, my dear. You're most welcome, good sister, it is the least I could give you…. Oh," she says as if she almost forgot, "one of my guards is to go with you, he will make sure, if it is within his power to do so, that you will be able to keep contact with me and your brother. He will protect you with his life, sweet one."

"I might go out for a walk in the gardens tonight," she mentions, "Though yes, I would appreciate not having to sleep on the road. Comfort is still a little lacking in a carriage after all," she smiles and looks relieved, so do the handmaidens that are working so quietly in the background. Being on the road in a company of women with a smaller escort of guards surely wasn't as secure as it might've been before all this trouble came about. The locket, as she pulls back from a hug, is offered to Guinevere, a brightness returning to her eyes, "Here, help me with this! I will be sure to wear it always." She's already turning on the sill, with her hands pulling up her loose locks out of the way. The mention of having one of Guinevere's guards go with her makes Amira peek back between loose locks, "Oh? And which brave knight will accompany me and leave yourself short an escort? One gift was grand enough, but this, are you certain?"

She pushes the clasp together and arranges the girl's loose locks neatly down her back. "I think daylight would be better, Amira. They forget the risks of night travel, me thinks." She steps back from the girl and smiles nodding curtly. "That is suiting, I think. Lovely," she says of the locket, "I am so glad you like it." She thinks about which guard she is to give the girl and snaps her fingers in an 'ah-ha' type of moment. "I have just the one, he will be at your side in the morning. He is older, kinder, and much more patient than the other guards. You will like him well enough, I think." Guinevere's head shakes back and forth. "Oh no, it is of no imposition, I have your brother now to protect me. I will be well." Guinevere pales a moment and steps closer to the window, taking in some of the fresh air. "Excuse me, my princess, I have not been well all day. I shall have the cook who fed me breakfast whipped for the spoiled fodder she fed me."

Letting her hair down, she lets her fingers play with the locket for a moment, clearly impressed by the wonderful gift presented to her, touched as well, if her softened expression has anything to say about it. As for the guard that suits the task at hand, she listens to Sir Raulin Craine's description, nodding, "If you believe it is best, I will leave that in your hands to arrange his own departure in the morning." She offers Guin a quiet smile, looking down at the necklace once again. Only, her attention snaps back as Guinevere seems to show signs of distress, "You should perhaps retire to your apartments and rest." The mention of whipping the cook earns a frown, "Could it be something other than food illness?" Hinting at some possibility of post-marriage bliss, as an impish light turns upon her lips and in her eyes.

"I believe it will set my heart at ease, and there is not that could replace that." Guinevere smiles, relishing in the cool air from the window. "He will be with you to leave in the morning, my dear." She looks a bit bewildered, almost as if the girl is speaking in tongues. "I.. I don't think so, no…" Guinevere ponders, "I've been ill since after breakfast. Oh. Dear princess, I'd never actually have her whipped. It was just anger at being ill that made me say that. Unless she meant to do that."

The matter of the guard was easily resolved, without much dispute from the Princess, since, after all, she had just released one of her own guards and was reluctant to leave without at least another in his spot. A trusted man from her good sister was well enough. "I don't think a cook would honestly do that. They'd risk their head after all," she does suggest turning to look back out the window, watching Guinevere for a moment before she shrugs, "Maybe your stomach doesn't like something that was cooked? Have you sought out a healer in regards to how you feel? You do look a little pale." Unless Guinevere didn't put on so much rouge today.

"No. I think not," Guinevere says softly, "perhaps it was the spices in the oxen tails. I… I do not know." She shrugs and sighs lightly. "I am awfully tired though, perhaps, I'll call a healer if I am not well by the morrow." She looks down to her good-sister. "If it will set you, and everyone else, at easy. I am quite sure it is just a mild illness, nothing more." She puts her hands to her cheeks, feeling the cool clamminess of its surface.

Amira, a student in the arts of healing, known to have taken some interest in that, nods, reassured, "If you will see to a healer, then I will take on your guard." Ah-hah! She's not so coy as to let the other push a guard on her without some recourse. She does rise from the sill however, reaching out a hand to Guin's shoulder, "Get some rest dear sister. I will be here in the morning to give a final farewell before I depart." She reaches to draw the other lady into a sisterly-hug once more, "Thank you again for the gift. I will think on it often and it will give me strength when I need it." She pulls back from the other and smiles, "My brother was very lucky to find you."

"Clever girl. You will do well. Promise me you'll behave down there." Guinevere winks, gladly taking a hug from her good-sister, giving her a little squeeze back even. "I will promise to do as you say, and you will do as I say." She places a hand to the girl's cheek. "Thank you, you may well be correct," there is a bit of a chuckle there as she removes her hand, "I will see you in te morn. Do not leave without my farewells."

Amira puts on a perfectly pleasing smile, one that would win over suitors in other courts but is consequently one that is for show, well worn, "Thank you." She does giggle afterward, a true smile warming her features considerably. "Yes, I will not fail to represent the North appropriately," she nods, reaching up to give that hand on her cheek a gentle squeeze, stepping back with her hands shifting to her sides, "I will make sure I do not leave until then." She bows her head, "Have a peaceful sleep sister."

"You as well, I will see you in the morning," Guinevere curtsies lowly to her good-sister, sending her a smile before slipping past the grateful servants and out the door.

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