Y'nev watched with mild surprise, much disappointment, and a bit of self satisfaction as the woman named Mona excused herself from the room. Clearly not up to task. The warrior could not share such a silly sentiment. It was an honor being chosen, and it was a true offense to throw such an opportunity away. And for what? Feelings of doubt? Everyone had doubts before an obstacle, but she was never one to tarry from such a thing. The woman pursed her lips as she watched Mona depart, leaving her with her respective Liege, the other kinds, Servius, and Freya.
She watched the fool for a short while, the entity seemed entertained enough. How curious that it did not appear to be affecting them. Did they perhaps foresee that this would happen? She glanced at her King, who was muttering to Cups and every so often released a booming laugh that filled the silence of the room. She found she did not have a lot to say. Her displeasure could be better voiced without words, as it were. She paced away from Servius and decided to simply polish her weapon. It seemed the most relaxed way to pass the time in this odd "calm before the storm".
She glanced down at her hilt with some fondness, tracing her fingers over the scrawled signatures of her siblings. Of course her sister's was the biggest and bubbliest. But she cherished the smallest one, written so elegantly by her youngest brother. She was going to miss him the most. She felt a pang in her chest. She really wished she had enough time to say goodbye properly. She shook her head. Now wasn't the time for hesitance. Mona had displayed a stunning lack of conviction, and she wasn't about to follow suit.
After some time had gone by, she inspected her work proudly--yes, her weapon had such a fine sheen to it. Clearly one of the superior works of her second mother. She was about to sheath it when she heard approaching footsteps and she looked up. She noticed vaguely that Freya had made an entire bouquet of paper flowers around her and Y'nev bit back a slight chuckle. Fancy in a cute way. The footsteps got louder and Fool cheered practically in happiness--greeting the newcomer. The warrior narrowed her eyes, this one looked like the rich version of Servius. And she barely liked Wands as it was.
She pushed her weapon back in its casing and walked over towards her Liege, bowing towards the man. "Blessings be to the Silver Mother," She breathed out slowly. "I am Y'nev Amaren, representative of Swords." As if that wasn't obvious enough from the weapon she had just finished polishing. Her liege looked at her with passive disapproval, yes, that was a bit impolite coming from her. But could she be blamed? The last person from this kingdom had chickened out and this one didn't look overly impressive. Maybe she was a bit more foul tempered than usual, there was that biting sensation in her stomach again. She sighed.
She upturned her lips into a faint smile and swiveled her attention to Fool. "My Lord, I believe we are ready to proceed."