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Ilene Thatcher

Thorny Rose

0 · 752 views · located in The Black Keep

a character in “Blackvale”, as played by FaddedFox

Description

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"Beauty is just as bloody a blade in the hands of the willing."

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Role // Second and eldest daughter of the Thatcher Family

The Riddle - The Scarlet Pimpernel ♫ Thank God I am Pretty - Emilie Autumn ♫ [url]SONG[/url]♫ [url]SONG[/url] ♫[url]SONG[/url]

Face Claim // Diane Kruger



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There is nothing wrong with using every tool in your arsenal to gain the advantage. Isn't that to, what a game of wits entails?
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✄Nickname
Thorny Rose
Princess
Thatcher's Starlight

✄Age✄
21
✄Gender✄
Female
✄Sexuality✄
Heterosexual
✄General Appearance✄

A rose with thorns couldn't be truer of Thatcher's only daughter. Like her parents and brothers, she is a blond natural beauty and often called Thatcher's Starlight for her fair skin and bright smile. Plush pink rose petals for lips and the silken pallor of nobility are her armor and pride. Eyes of astral blue are fetching in their brightness and where her true beauty lie, but like the cold blade of steel, can harden in a moment with a dangerous light. Ilene has a soft heart shaped face and often allows her blond rivulettes to fall freely around her face and shoulders, accenting her feminine curves and always brings attention to her eyes. She knows the value of her beauty and does what she can to ensure she always is the image of Ladyship.

Unlike her brothers who don't much care if their fine shirts and dirt stained, Ilene is far from humble. Wearing the most extravagant dresses her family can afford or she can craft, are of great importance to her and as such is often found sewing her own dresses. Even when forced out into the field with her family, she wears pants with elaborate stitching and a top fit for royalty and wears gloves to save them from callouses and imperfections. Jewlery to she prizes and hordes when she can. She loves the exotic so often visits merchants from far away lands to try and put her best foot forward and appear exotic among other, richer noble women around her.

Much to her chagrin, Ilene does have one imperfection she tries to hide. When she was young and frilly dresses far from her mind, she to had practiced her sword had with her eldest brother. During one of these secret play fights, the two of them wandered off in the forest and found themselves in real danger. Before the two were saved, she received four long scratches thanks to a wolf from her right shoulder down her back to her left hip. Though the wound healed nicely, she still has the ghastly scar and no manner of makeup can over them.



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I assure you, my lord, I am not like the other proud noble ladies in your court. I won't fawn on you, nor will I be your doe, but a stag flashing its horns.
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✄Personality✄
Spirited ♠ Determined ♠ Ambitious ♠ Passionate ♠ Calculative ♠ Charitable


Like her siblings, Ilene has her unique quirks. The Thatcher line seems to have no shortage of hell spirited children with strong convictions. If her brother Avery is serene and neutral, the image of the perfect heir, Ilene is the spitfire of pride. Throughout her life she wanted to prove herself worthy to her family and competed with her elder brother. She knew he was the heir to the family line but that didn't stop her from wanting to be the same and hated the rules that kept a woman subservient to a lord. She could be just as good an heir and lord of a land as her brother. It ached that even if Avery died, gods forbid, it would be her younger brother Elliot to take the right to rule, not her. She admired Avery's strength and convictions, but as they grew, she realized that he didn't have any ambitions for himself or the family. He was perfectly content to be the lord farmer. She was not. If Avery wouldn't lead the family to greatness, then maybe that would be her role. She wanted to see her family rise above the others in wealth and power. There was more to life than farming and unlike her brother, she loved the political arena. Let her brothers squabble and bleed with their swords of steel. She'd wage war with her words and mind.

She is just as spirited as her brothers and will not easy bow to anyone or anything. It is not the idea that she above them, but the idea that if she is to be a 'horse' gawked at for the highest bidder, she'd be a stallion, wild and free. Her parents pressed her for marriage many times but each time she refused to marry and if not given a choice, gave her suitors quite the run for their money until they themselves retracted their steps. She is determined to stand on her own and show she doesn't need a man to be strong and has the wish that some day she would be able to change the place of women or at least set them on the course. If that means she will die a shrewd, so be it. She has the determination and stubbornness of any man and will not easily take no for an answer. She will fight for what she wants.

Surprisingly, though she has ambition, she is not one to spurn others or be jealous. Though she used to envy the ladies much wealthier and more powerful, she had realized that this envy will not gain her anything. Instead, she looks within herself to improve. If she and another are vying for position and she loses, she will let herself be sad for a day or two but then reins herself back in control telling herself there will always be another chance and possibly a better chance. This makes her calculative in her actions and if she makes a mistake, she learns from it and adds it to her arsenal for she knows everyone makes mistakes. And her calculations may turn to manipulations but she is in no way vindictive. She just knows that sometimes you have to do things you'd rather not to get to the places you want. She doesn't do anything to hurt others on purpose however, even if they slight her. She's seen enough to know that fights over minor slights end up with the people involved hanging from a noose and tangles webs for everyone else.

And since she is a Thatcher threw and threw, she is compassionate to those loyal to her and her family. She is charitable to her people and kind to them, gaining their favor much like Avery who tends the fields with them. Though she wont' get down and dirty, she will help them with a little bit of coin here, a good word there, and will help the women folk mend clothing. Though seemingly untouchable, she loves children and will often do much to aid them. It is one of her few soft spots. She wants children of her own but she'd rather die than admit that.




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Power hungry? No. I hunger for change. Power is just the tool I'll use.
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┍━━━X Enjoys X ━━━┑

჊ Sewing
჊ Reading/writing
჊ Leisurely rides around her home
჊ Caring for children
჊ Dancing

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┍━━━X Despises X ━━━┑

⚔Men not taking her seriously
⚔Women's subservience to men
⚔Getting in the dirt
⚔Having to be escorted

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┍━━━X Strengths X ━━━┑
✔Her beauty
✔ Calculative personality
✔ Intelligence
✔ Determination

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┍━━━X Limitations X ━━━┑
✖ She doesn't have any battle experience
✖ As woman, she doesn't have much power without a man backing her.
✖ She is still young so there is much she needs to learn.

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┍━━━X Fears X ━━━┑
☣ Howling of wolves, but more directly wolves themselves.
☣ Not accomplishing any of her goals.
☣ Being forced to marry someone she doesn't think will help her.
☣ Losing her brothers to death.

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Man will not rule me. We will rule together.
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Ilene was the second born of the Thatcher clan and it was soon obvious that she took after her mother in beauty. Their first born, Avery, was quick to decide that he would be her valiant knight and protect her. As the two grew, Avery and Ilene were close and true to his word, Avery tried to be the perfect little knight. Ilene, for what it was worth, Ilene just wanted to be like Avery. His strength and talk of honor made her idolize in being just like him when she grew up, sword swinging and all and often joined him as a sparing partner when their father allowed it, under the pretense to not tell their mother. She didn't much like sword fighting but it was one of the things she could do with Avery and he didn't play with dolls.

It was during one of these bouts that the two of them ran off into the woods together to explore and pretend they were knights looking for a damsel in distress. At the time, Ilene was 8 and Avery 14. Ilene was terrified to be out in the forest but she put on the brave face and followed her brother. Everything was fine for a while but eventually a couple of wolves had scented them out. The two children cried out for their parents and Avery told her to run. He tried to hold them off and while he did manage to keep one back, the second wolf rushed after Ilene. Unfortunately she was no match for the wolf and the beast jumped her and raked its claws down her back. The wolf probably would have killed her right then and there but her father was never too far off from his children. The man struck the wolf with an arrow when he broke through the trees and managed to get to Avery after the second wolf got through his defenses. While Avery sustained a shoulder injury, Ilene wasn't out of the woods. The slashes she received were deep and it took a long time for her to mend, even getting an infection at one point. Her life was touch and go for a while but she managed to survive but she never forgot her life and death experience. From then, she stopped pretending and playing with swords, much to Avery's heartbreak and tried to do whatever he could to make it up to her for not being able to protect her. She didn't blame her brother but his honor refused to let him accept her forgiveness and he trained harder and harder to make sure he never failed again.

Staying closer to home, her mother was able to groom her for court and she became more lady like though she never forgot how helpless she had been. She didn't want to be a helpless made and she refused to believe that her fate was to obey her father, brothers, and husband. She truly believed women should hold the same amount of power. It was a blow to her to find that though she was second born, she would not hold any power as long as her brothers were the heirs and that burned her inside. She had so much she wanted to do and she felt like her voice was muted for all the chains that bound her. She decided that she wouldn't marry unless there was a man that could match her mind and actually work with her rather than over her.

She quickly learned that men fawned on beauty and as Thatcher's starlight, she knew she had some manner of power based solely in the fact that she was a woman. With this little consolation, she continued to work on her wit and hardened herself like a warrior before battle. She'd use whatever tools she had at her disposal to gain any power she could get to try and change and shape things for the better, little by little. Her parents tried to marry her off but every suitor that came to their door she refused to marry if they failed to measure up to her idle and striving for equal partnership. What ave need of she for another man lording over her? Her brothers she could weasel and she knew they loved her truly and would do whatever they could for her but a husband? She didn't want to risk it if she wasn't sure of the man herself. Behind her pretty face was a warrior's resolve.

When she found out that the princes were looking for wives and that her family was invited, she had mixed feelings. She didn't want to be married off but the power of being married into the royal family was quite the luring bait. Still, she has no plans to fall desperately into their arms. She would see just what kind of rulers they were going to have and whether or not it was worth the chain.



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I am not a stead for you to rope and mount.
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Character Created by:
FaddedFox

Speech:: #CD1076

Character Sheet:
© FaddedFox ©

So begins...

Ilene Thatcher's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#FF4500 | Outfit
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ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit
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ILENE THATCHER
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Only Daughter | The Thorny Rose
#CD1076 | Outfit

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"Oh come on, you can do better than that," Avery grinned at his younger brother, lowering the large shield with the family armadillo crest adorning the front. "Where was the soul in that swing? The fight?"

"Oh shut up or it'll be your soul floating about," Elliot grumbled as he recovered from the bounce his swing had produced when it collided with Avery's shield. Elliot rolled his shoulders and twirled his swords in his hands as he got back into a crouching position as he and Avery circled each other.

"You'll have to practice more for that feat. At this rate you wouldn't be able to slaughter a slug," Avery taunted, his blue eyes alight with a teasing glint. Elliot gave a war cry as he rushed forward, right sword swinging, forcing Avery to bring his shield up and step back as Elliot twirled with the force to bring his left sword down at Avery's shoulder which Avery parried only to get a kick. Avery stumbled back from the kick and barely brought his shield up to block the two sword coming down from above. Avery flicked his own sword out to swat Elliot's ankles with the flat of his blade. "Better! But I still got you. In a real fight I would have slashed your ankles and you would be downed."

"If you didn't have that shield to hide behind I would have gotten you," Elliot growled as he pulled back to get some distance.

"Most will fight with shields. You need to find a way to get beneath them or you'll never win."

"Oh honestly, don't you two ever get bored of playing with your swords?" Ilene grumbled from where she sat beneath a shaded tree. Ilene pulled at one of her threads in her needle work as she fixed one of Avery's shirts. Her blond hair was down today, cascading down around her face and shoulders as she worked.

Elliot couldn't help the grin playing on his lips. "No, it is actually quite fun to play with my sword. Better yet with another slowly rolling over it."

Ilene looked up at her younger sibling aghast. "Elliot! Must you always interject with such lewd imagery?

"You started it," Elliot laughed.

Avery rolled his eyes at his siblings. Realizing he'd lost Elliots attention and would no doubt not get any real sword training from the man, he put his sword away and hoisted the shield on his back. Avery ran a hand through his own blond locks with a sigh. "I guess we are done for the day. I am going to go into the field. Farmer Padrick asked for some assistance in the cornfield. Tell mother and father please."

"I am not your page. You can tell them yourself. I am going out now that we are done here," Elliot answered and put away his own swords.

"Damn it Elliot, I know very well where you are going. You are going to give Mam a heart attack at this rate. Leave that poor boy alone. He's the best stable hand we've got and you'll scare him off."

Elliot gave his brother a mock look of horror and pressed his hands against his chest as if he had been struck. "Brother! You make me out to be a monster! I am wounded! I merely offer him my affections!"

Ilene and Avery both gave each other a look before leveling their gazes at Elliot un-phased by the youngest's theatrics. Elliot gave a pout before he gave up the charade. He rested his hands on his hip. "Approval or not, I am going," Elliot announced as he turned away. Before either brother could leave, however, their mother's voice rang out over the garden, calling all three of them. The three siblings glanced at each other in a bit of worry and confusion. It wasn't often their mother called for all three of them at once. The immediate thought was that something grave had occurred. Elliot and Avery both helped their sister gather her sewing before the three of them hurried back to the manor where their mother was calling for them.

Lady Ophelia was yet beautiful in her old age, a testament to the beauty she had been. She had aged gracefully, the wrinkles barely tugging at her eyes and lips. Her skin was still fair like her daughter's though slightly roughened by her hard work. Her pale golden hair was beginning to grow in silvery and gave her an air of sophistication. Even her movements were yet graceful and enchanting. Ilene truly hoped that she too aged as well as her mother. It was easy to see where the Thatcher children had gotten their charm and beauty from. Ophelia held her head high and proud as she rested her warm eyes on each of her children.

"Oh, Avery, Elliot, you both are covered in dirt again. And look at the holes in your clothing! You make me and Ilene work just to mend your clothing," she chided lovingly. "Your sister is already mending clothes," she mused as she looked at what Ilene was holding.

"Sorry, Mam. We were training in the yard. Has somewhat happened? Is everything all right?" Avery asked her, concern playing on his handsome features.

"It is not trouble so don't worry yourself over it but we received a letter from our liege of the Black Keep your father and I would like to discuss with you."

"The Black Keep?"

It wasn't often their parents brought them into counsel after a letter. What was all of this about? Three three siblings glanced between each other before they followed their mother into the counsel room where their father was waiting for them. Just as their mother, Lord William was a handsome man in his aging. Though far more weather and stress worn, the lines of his face gave him a sort of stoic recognition. His good nature was easily seen in his deep blue eyes, shinning through the gruffness of his love of simplicity. Unlike most lords, he was happy with the simple pleasures, never over adorning his home with trinkets. Even the clothing he preferred was tailored to be far less rich and elaborate for his station. It was easy to see Avery took after that predilection. Lord William smiled as his wife took her place at his right hand and he looked over his children as he sat forward.

"As I am sure your mother has already explained, we just received a message from his Majesty and her Highness. They have invited us to stay for the summer in the Black Keep."

"Stay for the summer the Black Keep?" Ilene repeated in surprise. That was quite the honor but there had to be more to it then that. The king and queen would have no use for all of them to take up residence there for an entire summer.

"Is that wise? Who would watch over our lands? The people?" Avery interjected. "I could stay home and watch over everything. You both know I do not have the desire to play in court intrigue. There are far more important things to worry about here." Ah, the ever practical Avery. If he could, he'd avoid these political games as much as possible.

"We will have the men here protecting the residence. You don't need to worry about that, Son. Unfortunately, the three of you must attend," Lord William explained.

"You see, they are holding a ball and we are not the only nobility that will be attending. All of the families have been called upon," Lady Ophelia finished. The lord and lady let that settle on their children for a moment. Realization of what the ball really meant was quick to sour everyone's mood.

"So it is a marriage convention, with each of us a prize for the royalty?" Elliot mused sourly.

"You mean me and Avery," Ilene remarked to Elliot. "We are eldest and neither of us have married yet. The time is ticking," she finished dryly.

"All of us. They just said all of us. I am not exempt," Elliot sighed and crossed his arms.

"Regardless," Avery said with a wave to quite them both before they began to bicker, "We have to go. Do we have a choice in any of this?" Avery asked his parents. He personally had no desire to marry, princess or nobility, that would be nothing but a pretty face. He had other concerns.

"You do have a choice in a selection of a marriage partner. You and your brother mostly. Should the princes take an interest and pursue Ilene, we will attempt to pursue the arrangement." William answered sadly. "I am sorry my Starlit. I know your feelings about a proper husband but as a queen, you could do much. Other than that, you to will have a choice of your marriage though we do implore you to find someone to settle with. You are right in thinking that time is beginning to run thin. You've forced many suitors away." He hated to speak this way, especially to his daughter, but soon, no nobleman would ask for her hand, beautiful or not. Lord William then looked at Avery pointedly. Avery would know why. He had yet to produce an heir and considering Elliot's odd... fancy, he did not expect to see one from him any time soon.

"I know father. I am sorry for making your life so much harder. I will keep your words and duty in mind, but I will not change myself either; not for any man, may it even be the king himself," she answered. The suitors would have to accept her as she was, not a pretty picture of what they expected.

"Of course my dear. I would not ask for you to change yourself. I want you to be happy to," her father said.

"When will be leaving?" Avery asked sullenly.

"Tomorrow," Ophelia answered. "Finish the tasks you have for the day and prepare to ride."
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Finally, they were nearing the castle. Avery could see it rising up like the looming bars of a cage. He wished this summer was already over and that they were riding on their way home, not towards this dreaded place. The castle itself looked mesmerizing but the entire trip was colored by the fact that he would more than likely have to come out of this with a marriage proposal. He had had no intention of ever being married but he knew that would break his parents hearts. He needed an heir though he did not want to go through with this in the least bit. Avery pulled the rein's of his grey stallion to get it to stop and stood up in the saddle measuring the time. They would be at the gates in about half an hour. He heard a horse neighing behind him and turned to see his brother riding up beside him. Elliot at least was enjoying the horse ride. He kept straying off from the main road to explore at a safe distance.

Elliot looked like quite the lord with his rich clothing fashioned in the green and rusty red of their house. The Blazon stood out on his chest like a beacon. Avery himself had been forced into a fashionable attire least he be confused with a peasant though they were highly uncomfortable clothing. He felt like a peacock to be gawked at, what with the hot layers covering his skin. He even had a cape draped over his shoulders in the rich green his sister had crafted. It was connected to his attire with the golden clasp of the armadillo holding the evergreen leaves. Avery thought he looked absolutely ridiculous.

"Don't look so sour, Avery. You'r face will freeze that way. There isn't much going for you but your face, so don't screw it up," Elliot teased.

"Ease for you to say. I don't want to be here."

"Avery, I know you are looking at this through the duty lens but there is more to it then that. Look at it this way. Sure we are being paraded around like show ponies, but look where we are. We are at the Black Keep. We don't often come here or leave our territory. Don't let one part of it sour the rest of your mood. Take the time to enjoy yourself a little bit. You'll be better off."

Avery looked over at Elliot with an arched brow as he studied his brother. Elliot arched his own brow then. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

"Nothing. Just surprised you can say something intelligent and supporting."

Elliot scoffed and punched him in the arm. "I might as well not say anything at all if my words are so squandered," Elliot said with a proud toss of his head.

"You really are such a drama queen" Avery chuckled.

"Drama king. But look, I've made you laugh," Elliot answered with a mischievous grin. "My work here is done. You scowling and groaning... it doesn't suit you so put a smile on your face. Come on."

Avery was smiling as he shook his head and followed his brother back to the carriage. The two of them lined up with it and Avery knocked on the wall to draw someone's attention from inside. Ilene parted the curtains to look out at her brothers. "We'll be there shortly. he announced.

"All right. Thank you," she answered.

Within moment, their carriage arrived and both boys dismounted and handed their horses off to the stable hand. Elliot came around to the carriage door and stood aside as his father stepped down with a thank you who in turn helped his mother down. Elliot moved forward to offer his arm to Ilene then. Ilene carefully stepped out so she wouldn't trip on her dress. It was the same lush green as Avery's cloak with delicate silver and red laces and designs down the front and upon the little jacket she sported to cover her back. Her golden hair was done up extravagantly with little pink blossoms woven throughout. From it, some of her hair cascaded down her shoulder in rivulets to frame her face. An emerald necklace hugged her throat and she fussed with it to make sure it sat straight.

"You look beautiful, Ilene."

"Thank you, Avery. You should wear clothing like this more often. It suits you. And you to, Elliot."

Avery shook his head amused but Elliot preened like a bird and adjusted his shirt. Then it was time to head inside. Lord William escorted Ophelia first before Avery led Ilene with Elliot at the rear.

"Introducing Lord and Lady of the South, William and Ophelia Thatcher with their children Avery, Ilene, and Elliot Thatcher."

The family gave their bows and sweet words then before moving to stand farther away and waited.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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RHAEGAR CASTILLON
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Heir to Blackvale | The Falcon
#B70909 | Outfit
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BROM CASTILLON
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Prince | The Peacock
#061B62 | Outfit
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SYLAS THORNE
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Heir to Dark Wood | The Viper
#999999 | Outfit
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GWENDOLYNN CASTILLON
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Princess | The Little Dove
#F56E6F | Outfit


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Sylas bowed beside his sister while she curtsied towards the King and Queen. As he did, his gaze never left the Queen Guinevere who seemed to be intently watching him with an animalistic hunger. He quirked a brow as a stood upright, adjusting his attire as he glanced away. Although the gaze was direct and a bit unnerving, he held his composure and if anything stood tall and strong.

After the King and Queen moved on to greet the next family, Sylas stood elegant and tall as his mother held his arm. His gaze was drown towards his sister when he heard her voice, “Excuse me mother, for I must steal by brother. I feel that having some alcohol in my system may make the socializing a tad less painful.”

He smiled towards his mother as she adjusted part of his suit and then a bit of Sylva’s hair. “I would say behave, but where is the fun in that.” She then gave him a more serious look which garnered his full attention. “Make sure she doesn't get too drunk. Remember what happened that one New Years eve?”

Sylas looked between his mother and Sylva, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, of course mother.”

“Yes yes, I accidentally burnt down half the stables. Don’t worry mother. He will take care of me, he always does.”

Sylva slid her arm through his and began to guide him away. He glanced back over his shoulder towards his mother before they were too far away, “It’s my turn to get drunk anyways.” He winked towards Desdemona who chuckled at him before waving them off.

When they reached the table that was worked by a young servant girl, Sylas smiled towards the girl while giving a sly wink. He grabbed himself and his sister a glass of champagne before leading her over towards the large windows that lead out to the gardens. He watched the King and Queen greet each family as he sipped his champagne. When he noticed the mannerisms in the King shift at the presence of the Graysons, he quirked a brow, leaning in towards his sister slightly. “Now what could have the mighty Magnus so tense, I wonder?”

As more families filed into the ballroom Sylas felt like the viper in the brush patiently watching as all the field mice scurry around him. He was ready to pounce. Every move, every suggestive glance and translative body gesture had him eager to attack. But all the exterior showed was a calm, cool and collected young man. Refined, and elegant, everything a young lord should be and everything young women swooned over. He was going to give the Prince’s a run for their money. Seduce and destroy every woman just to watch the Blackvale crumble.

His train of thought was disrupted when Maxwell moved before him, bowing in greeting. “My Lord.”

“Ah. Maxwell. This is my lovely sister Sylva.” Sylas motioned to his sister.

“A pleasure my Lady.” Maxwell bowed in her direction. Sylas then motioned for the young man to come closure and keep to hushed tones. “I have taken care of your rooms, my Lord. The adjacent chambers have a shared door so that you make travel between the two without notice.”

Sylas reached into his pocket pulling out a couple more gold coins, slipping them into Maxwell’s pocket. “That’s a good man. Now
” He took a step closer to the servant, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Who is your allegiance to?”

“You my Lord.”

“Good man. I’d like you to keep your ears open. Anything and everything you hear you report to me
 The more useful, the more gold for you. As long as you’re loyal to me, you’ll never want for anything ever again in your life.” Sylas’ grasp on Maxwell’s shoulder tightened, not enough to cause pain but enough to send a message. “If you betray me, the King will wake up to your head on his breakfast tray.”

***

Gwendolynn sat at a window seat in the study, resting her chin upon her arms on the windowsill as she watched the families arrive. “The Davernys
 That’s all seven.”

Rhaegar stood behind her with his right arm raised, resting against the wall as he too watched the arrivals. “Do you think it was intentional for it to be exactly ten ladies and ten gentleman?” More of a rhetorical question that literal. Of course, it was intentional. Most likely every Lord and Lady was hoping for their child to make a smart match during their stay here. And a majority of them would be pushing their children at them
 Him.

Gwen slowly reached behind her to grab Rhaegar’s hand in hers while she looked over her shoulder towards Brom. “This
 is our last summer together.”

The comment caused Brom to stop his mindless scanning of the numerous books in the room to look towards his sister. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but a lump formed in his throat. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind. Him and his siblings haven’t been apart for more than a month but now
 This summer was going to take at least Gwen to the opposite side of the nation.

Rhaegar gently squeezed Gwen’s hand while Brom walked over to her, and place a kiss on her forehead. He remained silent as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she wrested her head against his side.

They remained silent. They hoped maybe if they never let go then no one could tear them apart. A trio forced to separate because of ridiculous societal norms and laws. It took everything they had not to cry or run away. It was their duty
 A horrible responsibility.

The knock on the door hit them all like a dagger in the back. Their grips on each other tightened, but they did not move. After a moment without an answer, the servant slowly opened the door. “Your Graces
 Your mother has asked me to fetch you.”

Gwen took a deep breath before she finally moved to her feet, exchanging a look between her older brothers. They all we scared and they knew it. They didn’t have to say anything to know. The one thing they knew best was each other.

“Come here,” Brom whispered before pulling them in an embrace. He patted his brother’s back while pressing his forehead against Rhaegar’s. His other arm held Gwen close, her forehead resting against the twins’ jaws.

“I’m sorry
” The servant spoke up again. “But your mother implores. If you do not come, I’ll be the one to pay.”

Rhaegar pulled his siblings in tighter for one last embrace before whispering to them, “No matter what, we have each other. Do not settle for anyone short of amazing
 If we have to run away and live as paupers to be happy, then so be it.” He leaned in pressing his lips to Gwen’s forehead while using his hand to rustle Brom’s hair. He then nodded his head towards the servant, “Apologies. I do not want you to suffer on our account.”

As they walked down the hall towards the ballroom they recited the names of the different Lords and Ladies that will be present. Their mother made sure they knew who was who. Royalty should know their people. Of course Rhaegar and Gwendolynn had the names straight weeks ago while Brom was lucky if he could guess how many children each family had.

They neared the large doors at the top of the grand staircase and while Rhaegar and Brom continued forward, Gwen froze in her tracks. It wasn’t until the servant had his hands on the door that the twins turned around looking for her. “
I can’t do this.”

The brothers both held out their arms to her while Rhaegar nods his head towards the door, “We’re right here with you.”

“Yeah and if you fall we’ll be the first to laugh.” Rhaegar smacked Brom in the chest, “Ow.”

Just as Brom went to smack the crown right off of Rhaegar’s head, Gwen quickly ran up between the two and took their arms. “How about you both stop fighting and escort me so I don’t fall in these ridiculous shoes.”

”Your Grace, the Queen wanted me to announce you one at a time and—”

“It’s all of us or none of us.”

Brom rose his brows towards Rhaegar as they both chuckled at the ferocity in Gwen’s voice obvious from her nerves. “Remind me not to piss her off,” he whispered towards his brother as the servant pushed open the large doors.

Their escort stepped out of the shadows where two other men waited. With a motion of his hand the two men raised horns to their lips and blew a tune in sync to gain the company’s attention.

“Seriously? A horn?”

Rhaegar brought snorted back a laugh as he raised his hand to cover his mouth.

”My Lords. My Ladies.” As she the servant started, Gwen’s grasp on her brother’s arms tightened. ”It is my honor to present to you the royal children of the family Castillon.” He motioned towards them and with a deep breath they stepped forward. Gwen could have sworn she saw stem flood out of her mother’s ears at the sight of them entering together, arm in arm. ”Eldest son to the King and Queen, heir to the Blackvale Rhaegar, his twin brother, Prince and King’s Guard Brom and their sister Gwendolynn.”

The siblings walked down the stairs elegantly, arm in arm. Gwen tried to best not to trip but even when she thought she was losing her balance her brothers just held her steady. When they reached the ballroom floor Rhaegar and Brom bowed while Gwen curtsied. They walked through the crowd of people towards their parents. Gwen tried not to look at her feet as she walked, her nerves growing with each pair of eyes she saw fixed on her.

When they reached the King and Queen, Magnus stepped forward raising his hand in a way to ask the crowd to grow silent. “I would like to thank you all for making the long journey to the Black Keep. We are pleased to accept you all into our home for the summer. Although our time together is to hopefully make new alliances and marriages between our children it is also a chance for us all to get a chance to know each other and create new friendships where we previously wouldn’t have the opportunity. So I’d like you all to make yourselves at home and please do enjoy yourselves.”

King Magnus bows towards the crowd before motioning towards his wife. Queen Guinevere tried to seem as genuine as possible when addressing the crowd. “In celebration of the beginning to this great summer and new friends, we invite all of our children in the dance of the Blackvale.” The Queen motioned towards the Castillon children beckoning them to take their place in the center of the dance floor. “The dance is simple,” she holds out her hand towards her kids who lined up where Brom and Rhaegar were in one line and Gwen was on the other side. “Our strapping young men will line up across from the beautiful young ladies. They share a dance with the woman across from them and when the song changes you switch partners. The dance is over when you’ve danced with every young man or woman.”

Sylas’ attention shifted towards the main staircase when he heard the horns. He didn’t know if he was disappointed or what about the royal children looking fairly attractive and nice. Of course, nice means nothing, especially when Thornes are around.

Although he never of thought of anyone other than his sister in a none loathing matter, he was surprised at how agreeable the Castillon daughter was. He had heard rumors about her but words failed to compare. He wondered how many of the men in the room were going to fight at the chance for a chance at her hand. Her beauty no doubt would only make her more desirable partnered with her status as the Princess of the Blackvale. It only made the wheels in his head turn as he contemplated the demise he could cause.

He sighed when he heard the Queen’s announcement about some sort of Blackvale dance. Sylas held out his hand for his sister and guided her towards the forming lines of the young men and women around their age. Trying not to be blatantly obvious he made sure that after he helped his sister to her place that he did not stand across from her. Instead he moved into an empty place in the line that was across from the Daverny girl.

Underneath all of what she wore he imagined a beautiful woman was there. Sylas could respect that she wanted to be her own person and not conform to societal norms. But either way he would like nothing more than this dance to be over with.

Sylas bowed towards the woman before offering her his right hand while his left hand was behind his back, “Ms. Daverny.”

Rhaegar made his place to the line while his hands nimbly worked on his cloak. He removed the cloak before handing it the closest servant. “Thank you William.” He patted the lad’s shoulder before he resumed his place, adjusting his sleeves so he’d be more than capable of dancing.

He waited patiently, cupping his hands together before him as he watched the others line up. Before some of the more eager girls shuffled their way before him, he reached out his hand to grab Clara’s and guided her across from him. “Apologizes, but I think I could handle this evening better having the first dance with a familiar face.”

Rhaegar knew Clara may not have remembered him because it’s been numerous years since they had seen each other. But he hoped she wouldn’t hate him for wanting to dance with the one person he knew.

Still being the gentleman he is, he bowed before her as the dance entails then offered her his hand. “Of course, you can always dance with someone else,” he said in a hushed tone. “Being paraded around always makes me a little nervous.” He smiled towards Clara with his hand still held out palm up towards her for if she decided to accept the dance.

Brom was more hesitant to make his way to his spot in the line, moving to stand beside the dark and sinister looking Thorne son. He thought about talking to the guy maybe even talking about all the attractive women at the ball but the guy looked like he had a royal stick up his uptight ass.

Instead he waited until an intriguing young blonde beauty came to stand before him. Brom began to smirk as he glanced her over. Maybe this wouldn’t be all bad if he got the opportunity to meet numerous beautiful young women just waiting for a dashing young man like himself to sweep them off their feet.

“Lady Vivienne
 Right?” He held out his hand towards her as he bowed, but his gaze never left hers. His smirk only seeming to grow as he took in more and more of her beauty.

Gwen moved along with her brothers before she could even take a step she felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder. The Queen stepped up to whisper in her daughter’s ear, “Don’t you dare ask someone to dance.” Gwen looked out of the corner of her eye towards her mother. “You are a lady,” the Queen grasped her shoulders tight, “ladies do not do the asking. The gentlemen ask you to dance.”

After her mother let her go, Gwen slowly took her place in the line between two blonde girls. She gave them both her best attempt at a friendly smile as she waited. Her fingers toyed at the lace embroidery on her sleeves when a young blonde stepped in the line opposite her.

Feeling her mother’s gaze on the back of her head, Gwen took the skirt of her dress in her hands as she curtsied towards him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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JONATHAN CHAIMBERS
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Eldest Son | The Pawn
#9BC4E2 | Outfit
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FREDERICK CHAIMBERS
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Youngest Son | The Trickster
#96CDCD | Outfit
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VIVIENNE CHAIMBERS
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Only Daughter | The Weaver
#92CCA6 | Outfit


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Frederick made for the far wall, his intentions to grab as many flutes filled with champagne as he could and drink as much as he could. He could hear the capricious falsities, Lords and Ladies all huffing and puffing about themselves and their pretend interest in the others, the rumours he could hear circling were enough to make his head spin and not in the fun way alcohol did. The back table was his safe haven, away from the hushed whispers and polite lies, he grabbed his first glass of champagne and downed it without a seconds hesitation, flashing a smile at the serving girl as he handed her the flute back. "You've been here all of one minute." The familiar voice tutted as he spun to meet her gaze, loose strands of brunette shook with her head as she did so.
"Catalina? How did you get in here?" Frederick then grinned and put his hands on his hips. "This is a private party, am I rubbing off on you?"
"Don't be ridiculous, your mother got me in, apparently she thinks I was hired to your court to babysit you." Catalina's tone was far from kind and closer to mocking.
"Isn't it?" Frederick asked as he reached for his second glass.
"No, I am your court advisor. I advise you on important matters, by the gods, why do you think I am always telling you who is who and what to do in the court?" Catalina threw her hands up in exasperation, nearly knocking the champagne from his hand. "Your father hired me to make sure you didn't mess up the Southern Shores and to maintain our political friendships." Catalina then stormed off into the crowd as Frederick shrugged before downing the second glass, just as his brother finally caught up to him.

"Did you get lost in the crowd?" Frederick clapped his hand onto his brother's upper arm. "Here, have a drink." Frederick grabbed one of the flutes and handed it to him, but was politely declined. "Okay, more for me then, brother." He then lifted another and proceeded to knock it back, Jonathan gave him a less than impressed looked.
"Gods, how desperate are you for a drink." Frederick smirked before grabbing another and did the same simply to spite his brother. Jonathan merely rolled his eyes at how petty his brother was being. "Can you be normal for just one night? For Viv's sake?"
"Sure, no doubt she'll ruin it for herself, talk about one of her bizarre nightmares and then we'll all be sent home, no big deal." Jonathan looked as if he'd taken a hit from Frederick's words, but he simply grabbed another flute and went to drink it, not even showing any remorse for his words.

Jonathan snatched the five champagne glass from Frederick's hand, "She's our sister, how dare you?" Jonathan scolded the youngest, taking a sip from the champagne to show him how it was done. "Keep yourself out of trouble and do not come near me or Vivienne tonight." Frederick merely rolled his eyes as he pinched a grape from one of the platters.
"Oh dear Father's pet, you are a good guard dog." Frederick clapped his hand against his brother's back three times with a large grin on his face, the intended joke being far more offensive than he clearly meant it.
"How you're mother's favourite still astounds me to this day." Jonathan set the crystal flute back on the table and was swallowed back up by the crowd, leaving Frederick to his champagne.

Finally being left alone to the table, Frederick turned to have another but then the royal children were announced and he was forced away from the very table he intended to spend most of his night. He leaned up against a pillar, his expression and composure revealing his lack of interest in the well rehearsed speech. The announcement of the speech even garnering an eye roll as he pushed off from the pillar and made for the floor. He positioned himself next to Jonah, the Northern Lord, dark of hair and only slightly lighter of skin tone, he gave him a polite wave, he had no doubt Jonah and Jonathan had dealt with each other at least once but Frederick had never had to pleasure. He looked across and spotted a woman the complete opposite in description, her hair was like spun silver and her skin just as fair, her eyes weren't a dull brown but instead an enticing blend of blue and gold. Her features were so delicate and innocent, Frederick almost felt bad that her first dance would be with him. "Lady Aurora, may I have this dance?" He bowed and stretched his hand out towards her as he did so.

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Whilst navigating the crowd, Jonathan occasionally paused as each of the families were announced and greeted, watching them and making a note of the faces as the names were called. He eventually caught sight of Vivienne as he navigated through the crowd, she was stood with some courtiers, playing her little game, no doubt. As he made for her, there was a loud horn announcing the presentation of the royal children. He found himself bowing with the rest of the ballroom, whilst watching the children descend the steps. Before he could continue towards his sister, the King and Queen took to the floor to announce a dance, before inviting all the intended to step forth and form a line, when Jonathan looked back to find his sister she had already made for the floor. So he opted for simply falling in line with the other young lords.

Jonathan took his position in between Howell and Benjy, both the Daverny sons, the presence of the two making him uncomfortable, as if he were about to be jumped and mugged. He didn't usually harbour such stereotypical feelings, he spent a lot of time in the Southern Shores, he was used to their presence. He then watched as the woman lined up before them, his mind clicked then, he wasn't wary of the Davernys, he was simply nervous about the dance and was projecting it onto whatever presence was most familiar, he would have chuckled to himself if he wasn't surrounded by such watchful eyes so simply smiled at the lady before him.

Her blonde hair held up by golden pins adorned with pearls and her dress matched their colours, a lovely golden trim with a pearl fabric being the most present. He observed her features, his inner artist taking in the subtle details. Her beauty was subtle, the pallor of her skin, which revealed why they called her the Swan Princess, simply accentuating the shadows around her eyes and the beauty mark just slightly above her lip, and the indent to the left of her lip, noticeable only by the faint shadow.

He smiled at her before bowing, "Lady Cavalier, may I have this dance?" As he bowed, he stretched out his hand for her to take, waiting patiently with a smile on his face. "Although, please do not vomit on me." His jest was meant to tease and not offend, indicated simply by his playful smile and soft tone.

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Vivienne blended in with a group of courtiers, they were at the court often enough to get enough information about the other families, they mainly gossiped about the families, including the Chaimbers, making Vivienne chuckle at their ignorance and herself for believing they would be of any use to her. She remained with them, however, saving herself from being a social pariah and being seen at the ball sitting looking out the window at the garden. As luck would have it, she wouldn't be with them for very long as the royal children finally presented themselves. Vivienne curtsied as they descended the stairs, she listened with a smile on her face at the announcement of a dance, before the Queen had even finished she made her way to the floor, paying little attention to where she stood.

Vivienne smoothed out her dress as she awaited her partner to appear, if it was her first time playing the game that is court intrigue she would have fiddled with her hair and even ensured the placement of her jewellery was just right, but then she would have revealed herself from behind her mask. As she ran her hands down the fabric one last time, she heard a strong, somewhat charming voice address her. “Lady Vivienne
 Right?” She looked up from her dress to see him, his golden mane cushioning a silver crown, whilst simultaneously curtaining his strong jaw and proud cheekbones. His hazel eyes nestled in the sockets above taking on a more cobalt blue colour, the same eyes that locked with her deep blue ones as he bowed, she took his hand and curtsied, low enough to be at the same level. "Prince Castillon." She smiled at his smirk, his eyes never breaking from hers except to blink. "One might be considered about that grin, particularly if one is to believe the rumours around these very halls." The tone of her voice soft and sweet, with no intended malice, and her smile the same.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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JONAH ALLYRION
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Eldest Child | The Winter's Wolf
#E80000 | Outfit
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CLARA ALLYRION
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Only Daughter | The Winter's Child
#388E8E | Outfit


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Clara rang the fabric of her dress as they waited for the Princes, and the Princess to arrive. She looked around the room and saw that not just a few families were here but ALL of the families were her. Everyone in the Cradle was present, even the Davernys to whom Jonah always called pirates, even if they technically weren't since The King hadn't issued a mandate saying that what they did was illegal. Of course, she couldn't tell Jonah that because he'd still call them pirates. They were privateers if anything. She took a breath, looked at all of the beautiful girls, most of them with brilliant yellow hair, and while hers was a deep midnight black, she seemed to be the only one. She looked around again, besides the Throne daughter....Sylva? If Clara remembered correctly. While, no one had her dark curls, golden amber eyes, and warm skin, she still felt unimpressive and to make matters worse, she wasn't healthy either. "Now, Songbird, try to relax." Jonah said, obviously noting her nervous habit. She dropped the bit of fabric and closed her hands. "What if I cough?" She muttered to him, trying not to move her lips much. On the ride, Mother told her to try to at least appear healthy, she didn't want any of the other girls to know how ill she was, or the Prince for that matter. Though Clara knew she wouldn't make a good wife because of her illness, Mother didn't want anyone to know that. "You only do that in the cold and it's summer here," Jonah said in the same hushed tone. "Besides, Their winters are our summers, you'll be fine."
He assured her just before the herald blew his horn.
”My Lords, My Ladies, It is my honor to present to you the royal children of the family Castillon.”
Just then, arms locked the Princes and the Princess walked out. Clara swallowed, feeling small and out of place, while Jonah gaped like a fool at the Princess. Clara was about to elbow him but she stopped as they were introduced.
”Eldest son to the King and Queen, heir to the Blackvale Rhaegar, his twin brother, Prince and King’s Guard Brom and their sister Gwendolynn.”

Clara's eyes went to the focus of this party, Prince Rhaegar. He was handsome, looked strong and he had a kindness in his eyes. She felt a little at ease for a moment and then thought. Right now, she looked like the picture of health, something she was very not, she knew all too well, looks could be deceiving.

Cursing her pragmatism, she took a breath, she could feel the rawness of an incoming cough in the back of her throat. If she could get some water, or perhaps fresh air...or better yet, out of this freezing corset, she'd felt better.

It was then that that King Magnus stood, and a hush fell over the crowd.
“I would like to thank you all for making the long journey to the Black Keep. We are pleased to accept you all into our home for the summer. Although our time together is to hopefully make new alliances and marriages between our children it is also a chance for us all to get a chance to know each other and create new friendships where we previously wouldn’t have the opportunity. So I’d like you all to make yourselves at home and please do enjoy yourselves.”
He said and Jonah twitched beside her. He turned to their mother, who Clara forgot was behind them this entire time, only to get swatting and shushed. Jonah turned back as the Queen stood. "I suppose I'm not the only one to be wedded this season, Am I, Brother?"
"Don't you start..."Jonah replied only from them both to receive sharp shushes from their mother. Clara merely smiled but it faded when the Queen began to speak.


“In celebration of the beginning of this great summer and new friends, we invite all of our children in the dance of the Blackvale.” 
Clara's eyes went wide as the Castillion children were gestured to the middle of the ballroom floor. She looked at her brother, who was the one smiling now. He had the princess in his sights, and probably was looking forward to dancing with all of the women. Clara did not want to dance with anyone.

"Clara...You'll be fine, you've done this dance a million times." Jonah told her, casting a glance at Mother but since he was consoling her, Mother said nothing. Father was as stoic and watching as always.

Clara merely nodded. She had done this dance, but it had only been with Jonah and the first few times, she'd broken into a horrible coughing fit. It was the middle of winter though so if Jonah was right, that shouldn't be a problem.

Clara merely sighed as the Queen continued.
“The dance is simple. Our strapping young men will line up across from the beautiful young ladies. They share a dance with the woman across from them and when the song changes you switch partners. The dance is over when you’ve danced with every young man or woman.” She instructed and Clara looked around. Every young man? Would she have to truly dance with every man here? Clara felt herself beginning to panic. She took a few deep breaths, and a cough tried to surface but she held it back as best she could. Jonah gave her an appraising look and she nodded. One of their many wordless conversations that usually only happened whenever he was worried about her but didn't want to worry Mother.

"Go on." Their mother told them as the others began to line up, and Jonah gave Clara a smile, and a nod before separating from her and moving to the opposite line.
She moved to the line and didn't make any move to assert herself. She was never a sociable person, quite the opposite so she hung back, hoping to be passed up.

Instead, the Prince, the heir no less, came forward, his eyes on her, and her olive cheeks flushed red. She looked around her and behind because surely he wasn't after tiny little Clara but no, he reached out for her, taking her hand and guiding her in front of him. Her eyes were wide. She knew it, she felt it them staring wild at him.

“Apologizes, but I think I could handle this evening better having the first dance with a familiar face.” He said and she blinked, her face no longer frozen like a deer. "Familiar?" She muttered but he didn't hear her, not over the music and her voice was always soft, raising it would cause her to cough and no one needed that. He bowed to her and she fumbled a curtsy that she knew her mother would keel over and die if she saw. Clara glanced and either her mother didn't see it, or she was holding her reaction until later.

“Of course, you can always dance with someone else,” He told her and she smiled, albeit a bit awkwardly and shook her head, missing that he had offered his hand and since he was not Jonah, he wouldn't know that she merely meant that was fine and not that she was declining the offer.
 “Being paraded around always makes me a little nervous.”
He said and offered a smile that eased her tension. She laughed before placing her hand in his. "It's alright, Your Grace, I understand better than you think." she said and chuckled. "I must admit, I must have been very small, the last we met, I fear I don't remember you, I know of you, but no memories of my own, I'm afraid." She said, knowing that she probably shouldn't be that honest but being bedridden for so many years, cut off from people, she didn't have many of the social graces most people developed, she spoke her mind far too much most of the time.
"When last were you in the North?" She asked, as the music picked up, and she allowed him to lead her as Jonah would have.
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Jonah having left Clara on the other side of the line, watched as the men chose their partners. To his surprise, Rhaegar went straight for Clara, and soon enough she was smiling. That was a good sign...he hoped. Clara could be rather despondent so for someone other than him to get her to smile was something he was glad for. Turning his attention from his little sister, he eyed the women. They were all so lovely but who to choose? His first thought was for the Princess but he didn't want to be so forward, she was the Princess, after all, surely she would not be dancing alone and besides, he would have wanted to make a good impression and he noticed that eagerness was not exactly charming in the eyes of women, at least not in the women he came across.

Then his eye caught sight of the eldest Greyson. She looked formidable. She would be a challenge. He could see it in her eyes. Sweet words would not do for a woman like her, she had a light in her eyes that was all too familiar but whose they belonged to, he did not know. She was tall, carried herself like a fighter, being one himself, he knew it when he saw it. Jonah smirked. He made his choice.

He sauntered up to her. "My Lady Rosalyn."He said, hoping to the Gods that he did not confuse her for one of her sisters. Mother made he and Clara memorize the names of the children from the families, and while he'd heard them being introduced, he wasn't entirely confident in his memory of them to be sure. All of them were blonde, but this one was tall, unlike her sisters. When she didn't correct him on her name, he assumed he guessed right. He gave her his wolfish grin and bowed gracefully. "Magnus Allyrion, but please do call me, Jonah, might I have the honor of your first dance" He asked, using his charm in his expression as oppose to his words as he offered her his hand.

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Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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LARA CAVALIER
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Eldest Child | The White Frog, Swan Princess
#A8C5EA | Outfit


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Lara eventually and painfully her attention away from the Davernys who had just entered the ballroom to watch the Castillon siblings be flaunted to their company. Her gaze fixated on the to-be king in silent resignation, as she saw no reason to shy away from observing the Blackvale's most wanted bachelor. He knew they wanted him and was probably ignoring the stares, including her own. Ah, no, there could be no staring. Only coy glances. Despite this Lara stared still before raising one eyebrow and busying herself by looking inconspicuously around the ballroom, whistling inside of her head. At least he seems easy to fall in love with, she reassured herself despite being a little disappointed at the lack of "love at first sight". Sure, such a thing was unrealistic, but was she forbidden from dreaming? At the same time, she was relieved to not have been poisoned with mushy love-sickness despite how it would've made things easier. Feeling ill, she distracted herself by looking up at the ceiling and entertaining a small, unusual thought.

"What is running through your mind..." James whispered to her as the Queen called for a dance, "... Frog?"

Lara didn't want to divulge that the only thing "running" through her mind since arriving had been her tiny subconscious screaming "I'm doooooooooooomed", and she especially didn't want to explain that she had just been speculating what it meant to relate oneself to a wall, a floor or a ceiling so instead, she lied.

"I'm going to have to fight them," she said suddenly, like the epiphany had just hit her. "I see no other way to win. I must tie soap to the Prince's shoes so when they chase, they fall and break their necks." She swiped up a goblet of red wine from a passing platter and held it up high in a toast. "Here's to the Prince going down with them so they can call this entire mistake off." She shielded her face from the crowds as she chugged the entire thing down, her father watching on disapprovingly.

"Not so loud. Such loose talk can be interpreted as treason," he shushed then frowned when she didn't repent immediately and instead muttered something about the wine being strong stuff. "You cannot be se-"

Lara shot him a dark sideways look. "I'm deadly serious," she uttered. Barely a moment passed before her hardened features relaxed into a little amused smile. "Of course not, anyone could have heard me. I'll have to think of something else now." Her eyes trailed up to the magnificent chandeliers adorning the ceiling, mischief in her eyes as she remembered her daydream from earlier. She gestured up at them suggestively with a nod as she swapped out her empty cup for a full one.

"Battle plans for a ball are thoroughly unnecessary."

"This is a battlefield. All the women secretly try to knock competition off the dance floor. That, is why they make our skirts so ridiculous." She swooshed her excessive skirts around her to prove a point then hurriedly sipped at her wine when it threatened to leap from the cup. James watched her gravely and she walked back to him sheepishly. "I only make jests, Father. I'm going to be fine. My skirt could shroud a bear, I can't possibly lose."

"There's no shame in retreating to the gardens once you've had enough, but you will go no further." Lara smiled gratefully, despite knowing he was basically telling her not to run away. "Be careful."

She curtsied. "I just won't say anything." Interesting.

With that she bustled over to one of the final places in the line. Despite all her attempts at humour, her mood hadn't improved and unease settled like dust on her tongue. It was then that she realised she had claimed her place between two Davernys, the sons of the house she had been watching with as much excitement as a boy seeing his first jousting match. Her eyes darted between the two almost half expecting them to pull out cutlasses and take the entire castle hostage... and the King to reveal that they were all kidnapped and had to take part in some blood sport for his children's favour in which her soap trick proved victorious but alas, such fantasies existed only in her head. The daydreaming young woman almost forgot that she had a dance partner of her own in front of her before he spoke.

"Lady Cavalier, may I have this dance?" Her attention was stolen by the dark-haired man bowing before her. She tilted her head only slightly as she peered at him, her face crinkling with curiosity at who the man could be. She concluded that he had a handsome face - was there anyone in the court who didn't - that while plain in comparison to some of the nobleman, was littered with enough tiny imperfections to be interesting to her, such as the small brown dot beneath his right eye. She felt that if she were to look away for a moment then return her gaze to him, she would discover some new crease or shadow to color him with. If he were a treasure chest, she thought unabashedly, he would be made of pine and leather, and hold old papers inside. Probably of something boring, like a merchant's accounts.

"Although, please do not vomit on me."

What a gentleman. Lara shut the metaphorical chest in front with a snap. Of course, she already knew this was going to happen. A look at the man's face told her this was a lighthearted jest that under usual circumstances Lara would laugh at however this time it felt as though her heart had been shot, merely because she had failed in enacting her plan of being openly self-deprecating before anybody could tease her. Being the only noblewoman present to have been sick on the groom on her wedding day certainly took her down from a six to a two in terms of desirability. Her eyes trailed down guiltily to the goblet she had forgotten was still in her hand. A servant was already hurrying over to assist her and she quickly took a final drink before solemnly passing it over. She looked down at her partner and placed her slim yet surprisingly calloused hand in his.

"It would be my honor," she said with a polite smile, "Lord Chaimbers." She ticked over what she just said and quickly added on, "To dance with you. And to not vomit on you, I suppose. I'm sorry my reputation has you concerned." After all, if the story had made it to as far as the West, it had to pass through, somehow... that blob of land being the Vale, home of the Castillons themselves. After that stumble she stopped talking and let him lead her into the opening bars of the music. After watching the other dancers begin to talk she looked up at the man - who was either Jonathan or Frederick, she could not recall which of these names belonged to the eldest Chaimbers son - and her eyes narrowed, the way they always did when she was about to ask a question. "Forgive me for asking, my Lord, but from whom did you hear of that story?"

Setting

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Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#FF4500 | Outfit
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ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit
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ILENE THATCHER
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Only Daughter | The Thorny Rose
#CD1076 | Outfit

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Avery glanced around at the families gathered after their introduction and realized that almost all of the families had arrived. There were the Thornes, Graysons, Allyrions, Chambers, and the Cavaliers. Had his own family been the last to arrive? How long had the other families been waiting? He thought they had made relatively good time. And then he heard the door as another family was announced. Ah, the Daverny. How could he forget the strange and yet intriguing Daverny? He didn't often hear their name or hear about them really. He supposed it was nice that at least he could finally put more faces to the names rolling around in his head. The Davernys' dress was intriguing to say the least. He wondered what they had seen of the world. By far he was sure they were the most world savvy. He was itching to ask them about the different places they must have visited. What were the Misty Isles like anyway?

"Do you see anyone you fancy, brother?" Elliot asked as he too scanned the room for someone of interest, breaking Avery's wanderlust pondering.

"Not really. I mean I would like to speak to Clara of the Allyrion family. I haven't heard much about her. It would be fun to talk to Marriane of the Daverny. I am sure she would offer by far the most intriguing conversations. She doesn't look like so many of the other women, concerned with dress and primping."

"You do realize I am standing right beside you," Ilene asked with an eyebrow raised. "I am a lady, concerned with dress and pimping."

"You don't count,"

"You don't count,"[/color Avery and Elliot answered her in unison. Avery gave her a smile then. [color=#FF4500]"You are our sister and I know you have more on your mind that snatching a prince," he answered. "I doubt most of them want to even associate with us since we don't wear crowns. How about the two of you, any fancy?"

Ilene shrugged idly. "Not sure yet. They are all fetching," she answered but like her brother, she was far more interested in their personality, rather than appearance.

"You two are a bore," Elliot answered. "I would personally love a tumble with Howell or Jonah. And Johnathan is a cutie. There is a subtle look I like about him."

"Please behave yourself," Ilene implored. "If you do anything here, it will go beyond reprimand by our parents hand. I'd rather have you sullen and sulky then beheaded for a misunderstanding," she warned.

"Relax! I am not going to be stupid," he reassured. He'd watch, test the waters. He liked his head where it was to.

The three siblings were brought out of their revere when the royal family finally introduced their children. The family, like all the others, bowed and curtsied as was proper. Avery was about to pull his gaze away when he caught sight of the princess. He couldn't help but give a double take. He had never seen a beauty like hers. He had no love of the power mongering and originally, had no interest in her but to see her in the flesh... she was truly the most beautiful person in the room. Then again, it was just her physical appearance. What was behind those polished jewels and political smile? He didn't want another girl in his life that only cared about events such as these and looking 'pretty'. He was far more interested in learning more about her on a personal level, gauge who she was as a person. He shook his head to himself. This was all politics. She wouldn't tell the truth. Then again... he would try and find a way to ask her for a dance before the night was out. Or maybe... maybe not. He wanted to distance himself from the fight that would no doubt ensue. Maybe he'd find a way to talk to her another way. He didn't want her to think he was like everyone else, even if he did decide to pursue her in any manner.

"You are oogling," Ilene tsked though she was trying not to smirk. She was honestly surprised how instantly taken her older brother was with the princess.

Avery flushed and brought his gaze down. He was already figure out how he wanted to talk to Gwen when the queen announced the dancing. They had to dance with every lord and lady, respectively? That was good and bad, he supposed. He didn't really want to dance with everyone but it would hopefully make the evening go by faster. People were already lining up.

"Careful to keep your gaze on the woman you are dancing with," Ilene teased Avery with a subtle bump on his hip.

"I know, I know," Avery answered. "Let's go get in line."

Elliot led the way to the line with Ilene close behind. While Avery moved down the line, Ilene ended up standing beside the princess and offered her a smile when the princess looked her way. "Hello, your highness," she greeted politely. She looked forward, assuming that Elliot was going to try and dance with her first so he could gossip about the lords he wished he was dancing with. When Elliot instead stood in front of Gwen, her eyebrows reached for her hairline. What was her silly little brother up to?

Elliot himself was indeed up to something. He may not be looking for a love relationship this summer, but having friends in other families was always a bonus. You never knew what could happen in the future. He had looked over the ladies available and quickly took up his place in front of none other than the princess. He figured she would appreciate her first dance being with someone who wasn't after her hand in marriage. And considering the whispering he heard between Ilene and Avery, he'd realize that Avery was smitten with her. Maybe he could see if her personality would match up with his brother. All teasing aside, he loved his siblings dearly and he wanted for them the happiness they deserved. He had far more freedom than they did. And he was blessed with being able to take risks without too much consequence or fear. Well, time to put his neck out there. This could end badly but you didn't get anywhere without risk.

He gave Gwen a flourishing bow as she curtsied for him and took her hand to kiss her knuckles in the most charming way he could and gave her a smile. "Good eve, my princess. I was hoping you'd do me the honor of being your first partner in the long series of dances we are about to undertake," he said. He stepped just a little closer to bring his voice down as he added, "I am not after your hand, or your honor, do not fret about that. Just a friend to dance with," He offered her a smile and a playful wink. "If men were compasses pointing north, my compass lies south, if you take my meaning."


Avery was a bit surprised that his brother had gone to ask the princess for a dance. What was he playing at? He didn't have long to dwell on that however. He turned his attention to the available ladies and his eyes settled on one of the Grayson daughters. He took a moment running through the names before he figured out who she was. The second eldest if he wasn't mistaken.

He moved to stand opposite her and gave her a pleasant bow and kissed her knuckles just as his brother did to Gwen. "Lady Seraphina, would you mind terribly honoring me with your first dance?" he asked and offered her his hand, head still slightly bowed to show his consideration to her choice.

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Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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MARYNN DAVERNY
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Only Daughter | The Quarter Master
#567580 | Outfit
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BENJY DAVERNY
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Youngest Child | The First Mate
#5BA664 | Outfit
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HOWELL DAVERNY
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Eldest Son | The Swordsman
#DEAD83 | Outfit


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”It is my honor to present to you the royal children of the family Castillon.” All the attention in the room seemed to shift to the Castillons in an instant. And for that, the Daverny children were most grateful. Following the steps that were taken by the rest of the families, the three of them turned their attentions to the princes and princess. They looked as noble as their titles proclaimed to be, but if one were to look hard enough they would see the difference. Varying degree's of reluctance, but also, a great amount of strength within each of them. Marynn did not linger her gaze on any one of them, instead, taking in the room as a whole.

Her brothers - well, they were much more interested. Howell never wavered his gaze from the Princess, seemingly contemplative. Of course, Benjy's stare was more lustful than appreciative. He didn't often go for powerful women, they were much harder to bed let alone engage in conversation. But he thought he could make an exception for a princess.

As soon as that spectacle was over the Queen began to speak, drawing Marynns attention back. Howell already listening with rapt attention, but losing Benjy in the process. He instead began to survey, just as Marynn had done earlier but his focus landed mostly on the women of the room, Trying to get a lay of the land before he attempted to speak with any of them. These weren't the ditzy women that walked the shanties, no, these women were sophisticated. More's the pity - he'll have to work for his dues here.

“In celebration of the beginning of this great summer and new friends, we invite all of our children in the dance of the Blackvale.” As the Queen motioned to her children, Marynn realizes that she had been holding her breath. “The dance is simple,” she launches into an explanation, even though the two eldest Davernys think it's probably simple enough to figure out for themselves. Dances aren't usually that intricate. “Our strapping young men will line up across from the beautiful young ladies. They share a dance with the woman across from them and when the song changes you switch partners. The dance is over when you’ve danced with every young man or woman.”

They had known this was coming, but so soon after introductions? Marynn glanced between her brothers with mild desperation. At least at some point, she'll be able to take a rest by dancing with them. That at least should cut out a bit of the anxiety crawling up her gut. But before she could even manage to voice her issues their mother appeared by their side. While she spoke to the boys, her eyes lingered on Marynn with the usual amount of malice.

"None of you will cause a scene, understand?" They did, more so than Lady Elena could ever believe them. Benjy, the most likely to do something wrong nodded despite his devious grin. "Of course mother," He answered, too polite to be anything but deception. Howell scowls and Marynn tries not to let her nervousness show in her small chuckle.

"Good, we want to make a good impression here," Elena took a moment to look at the already forming dance partners. "Now hurry along." Fully dismissed, the boys went along their merry way. But Marynn was stopped momentarily as Hector appeared, a drink in hand - why did he get to drown his suffering in alcohol while she had to be completely sober.

"Marynn dear, do try not to castrate any of them." Hector spoke between a laugh and a wink, "If any of them have anything to Castrate that is." While Elena was not amused, she said nothing as Marynn shared the laugh. "I'll try not to." She's grateful for his attempt to make light of the situation. A bit of the nervousness ebbing away as she regains her strength of mind. She would not let something so small as a dance bring out any weakness in her. She is a Daverny, and Davernys are as strong as they come.

Deciding that she'd best line up now before she is left behind - as much as she would like that - she steps in, just barely straightening herself out before one of the Thornes is stepping in front of her. Sylas, she thinks is his name, only memorable because of who the Thorne's are. She can't exactly deny how handsome he is, but that doesn't mean she is exactly grateful to be dancing with him - in fact, she'd much rather not dance at all. He'd soon find out just how big of a mistake choosing her as his first dance partner would be.

He bows and offers his right hand. "Ms. Daverny," He says, and she tries not to balk. Her dress nearly trips her up as she curtsies once more, glad that she has yet to fall flat on her face. The damned sleeves get in the way as she offers her hand, hoping that her light hold doesn't show too much of her reluctance.

"Lord Thorne," She nods, tone light but not without its usual edge of misguided sourness. "Calling me Marynn is alright, or Mary if you prefer informalities." She tries her best to muster a smile that her mother would be proud of (ugh) without it seeming too fake, "I should warn that I am not very good at dancing."

~*~

Benjy had hoped to swoop in and steal a dance with the Princess, but it looked like someone had already beat him there. However, he was unconcerned with his bad luck and chose instead to just line up nearby his sister. Soon joined by an intense brunette who didn't exactly seem thrilled. Benjy doesn't fancy himself women like her, she reminds him too much of his own mother with the intensity of her gaze and the strength nod doubt hiding behind her formal attire. But, non-the-less she is beautiful and he would be a fool not to want to dance with her.

“Lord Daverny.” Even her tone of voice is strong. He grins, bowing as he is supposed to and takes her hand kindly. "Lady Thorne, I must say that you are very beautiful." Somehow, he knows that his usual lines won't work on a lady such as herself. But, he didn't feel like working for it either. They would dance, and perhaps converse a bit, and then he would be off to the next. Hopefully, causing as much grief as possible in the short time they are given to dance. His mother would not be thrilled to know of his plans - but he didn't care for her thoughts either.

Had she wanted him to behave she would have left him at home. He did not pretend to be the same as Howell, the prim and proper son of the family. Benjy prescribed to a much grimier side of things.


~*~

Howell was fully in his element here, the formality of the event something he enjoys immensely. As well as, he isn't the worst of dance partners out there. He worries only for a moment about his siblings. Benjy's lack of grace and Marynns hopelessness when it comes to anything like this. But, they are not his concern at the moment. He watches as the dancers are quickly lining up, and finally eyes a pretty blonde without a partner, one of the Thatchers - Ilene, he remembers her name at last. His knowledge of the other families surpassing most of his family. They were unconcerned with anyone outside of the Vale and the Misty Isles, but Howell took far more interest in the way that the other families worked.

He moves in across from her, giving her a kind smile. He doesn't want to put off any sort of thuggish air - he isn't like his brother - nor does he wish to be as stand-offish as his sister. Howell put himself far above the standards they set. Bowing, and offering a hand to her.

"Lady Thatcher, would you be so kind as to give me your first dance?"

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Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne
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RHAEGAR CASTILLON
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Heir to Blackvale | The Falcon
#B70909 | Outfit
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BROM CASTILLON
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Prince | The Peacock
#061B62 | Outfit
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SYLAS THORNE
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Heir to Dark Wood | The Viper
#999999 | Outfit
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GWENDOLYNN CASTILLON
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Princess | The Little Dove
#F56E6F | Outfit


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Brom made no attempt to divert his gaze from the beautiful blonde before him. He found it surprising for the Black Keep to be an overwhelming sea of blonde. It seemed the golden hair blended from one head to the next aside from the pirates, the Thornes and his very fiery sister. Even himself and his brother part of that overwhelming pool. But he never worried for a second that he'd be lost in the crowd. Even if he wasn't wearing his crown, him and his brother seemed to tower over a majority of the guests.

His thoughts were brought back to the present circumstances when the enchanting woman before him took placed her own satin palmed hand in his, curtsying so that she could meet his bow. "Prince Castillon."

"Oh my dear, you may call me Brom... Or call upon me tonight, I wouldn't mind." Brom quirked his left brow as his pressed his lips upon the top of her hand as he stood back upright, taking a step towards her.

"One might be considered about that grin, particularly if one is to believe the rumours around these very halls."

Brom cocked his head as he turned to stand to the left of Vivienne, holding her left hand in his right. He waited for the music to begin and moved instep with the dance along the promenade part of the dance. The young woman looked naive and younger than what her age probably was. Her features were soft and curved. But even behind the sweet innocence she portrayed he felt there was something a bit more devious behind those golden locks.

When the dance called for them to face one another again, he placed his free hand on her waist. Brom then began to twirl her around, finally deciding to reply to her previous comment, "Rumors?" He played innocent even though his smirk was deceiving his tone. "Do enlighten me because I fear I do not know what you speak of." He released her waist to twirl her beneath his palm. He then pulled Vivienne in closer so that they were chest to chest and whispered, "I'm an angel."

***

It was obvious to Rhaegar that Clara took note of all the eyes that were upon them. After all he was the heir so no matter what he did, the entire party was going to be focused on him and all of his decisions. "Familiar?" she asked in response to his comment but she said it so softly he didn't catch it.

When she went to curtsey but fumbled, Rhaegar was quick to step towards her, gently taking hold of her shoulders to keep her from falling. "Are you alright my lady?"

Clara seemed to smile and chuckle at his honesty about not enjoying the pomp and circumstance behind this arrangement and placed her hand in his. "It's alright, Your Grace, I understand better than you think." Rhaegar smiled glad that someone understood how odd this whole situation felt. Generation after generation parents were doing this to their children, probably hating it as much as they did... but then they went on to doing it to their kids. He made a mental note that when he had kids of his own, they could marry whom they wanted.

"I must admit, I must have been very small, the last we met, I fear I don't remember you, I know of you, but no memories of my own, I'm afraid. When last were you in the North?"

Rhaegar turned with the line of other young Lords and Ladies, walking the intro of the dance as he held Clara's hand. Out of sync with the dance he playfully twirled her before bringing her in towards him, and placing his hand on her waist. "I do believe it's been the better part of a decade. My brother," he started as he moved with elegance as he guided her around the ballroom in accordance with the dance his mother drilled into his head. "It must have been when he decided to become King's guard. I believe we took him to the North to train under your father. Understandable that I would remember you and not vice versa. I was 17 or 18 which would have made you... 8, I believe?"

He released Clara's waist and gently guided her through a twirl, before bringing her close yet again. Rhaegar smiled towards his siblings when he caught their gaze before looking back towards his partner. "So are you hoping to find love this summer? Or did you come because your parents wanted you to?"

***

Gwen raised a brow at the very extravagant bow her dancing partner made towards her. He then took her hand and place a tender kiss upon her knuckles. "Good eve, my princess. I was hoping you'd do me the honor of being your first partner in the long series of dances we are about to undertake," Elliot said. When the young blonde smiled towards her, Gwen returned it with her own smile. She hoped she looked sincere even though deep down she wanted nothing more than to run out into the gardens and disappear up in a tree. He took a step closer to her with took her by surprise but she didn't pull away. "I am not after your hand, or your honor, do not fret about that. Just a friend to dance with," he winked towards her.

Gwendolynn inhaled sharply as she turned to stand beside him, walking to the beat of the music. She didn't quite believe his words because what better way to get close to a princess other than claiming not to want anything to do with her. His next words though caught her off guard, "If men were compasses pointing north, my compass lies south, if you take my meaning."

She turned to face Elliot, freezing in place until a couple behind them cleared their throats loudly in an attempt to get them to move. Gwen quickly picked up her pace, turning to face him scooping up the train of her dress in her free hand. It was a few moments into the dance before she finally connected the dots. "Oooohhh..." She laughs at how stupid she felt when she connected the dots. "I'm afraid my lord, that there may not be much in that realm here at the Black Keep. I don't know if there will be anyone to satiate that appetite."

Gwendolynn was able to finally exhale a deep breath almost worried she might pop her corset. But it was nice knowing she didn't have to put on airs for the first dance of the night. She was nervous enough as it is, having to dance with someone who would try to seduce their way into her bed or status wasn't something she wanted to deal with just yet.

***

Sylas tried not to scoff or simply walk away when the Daverny woman seemed to be having more trouble with her dress that it was worth. None of the other women seemed to have issues but then again it looked like this one wasn't used to walking on land for more than a moment or two, or in anything that wasn't trousers. He grasp on his hand was light, no doubt she was looking forward to this dance about as much as he was.

"Lord Thorne," she started. At least she knew who he was, that's a start. "Calling me Marynn is alright, or Mary if you prefer informalities." She smiled towards him as he began to lead her side by side following the line of partners.

"Ah well, my Lady Mayrnn, you may call me Sylas." He gently turned her, placing his other hand on the back side of her ribcage.

"I should warn that I am not very good at dancing."

Sylas could see right past the fake smile. She seemed as uncomfortable with dancing as she was in that dress but no matter he wasn't going to let on. It was too soon to show his true colors so he simply smiled his charming effortless smile that made his eyes seem to sparkle even if they masked his true disgust with this whole evening. "You are in lucky my lady, for I've been told I'm an excellent dancer." With a soft press on her back he guided her into a twirl. "But it is fortunate that this dance is simple. A bow and a curtsey, promenade, break off into pairs, a few twirls... And then switch." When he said switch, he spun her again. "The most difficult part is pretending like we actually enjoy this boring dance."

Sylas gave a slight chuckle. The Dance of Blackvale was horrid and boring. Nothing short of doing the same exact same thing over and over again. Simple enough for this dull crowd.

***

The King watched as the younger generation moved together to begin dancing. He could see their hesitance and disdain as plain as day on their face. He couldn't help but feel a sinking sensation in his gut. He wished it was easy enough to allow them to marry whom they wanted when they wanted. This was there glimmer of a chance but their pool of options was small. Arranged marriages never turned out remotely as well as they should.

His gaze drifted towards his wife with the thought. Magnus leaned towards her, pressing his lips against her cheek in a loveless kiss. "I am going to converse with our guests my love." With that he stepped down form the royal podium and worked his way through the crowd. When he caught only a momentary glimpse of his daughters gaze he gave her a smile and a playful wink.

Magnus wasn't sure where he was going, his feet carried him and before he knew it, he found himself before her. She hadn't aged a day, looking radiant as ever. She didn't try to look younger or hide her age like the Queen did. Her age was shown like a badge of honor to show her accomplishments and she wore it well. He couldn't help but smile as he bowed before her, taking her hand in his and placing a long lingering kiss upon it. "Elizabeth, lovely as ever."

He then looked towards Robert, smiling in greeting and shaking his hand. "You take very good care of all your girls. They've grown up to be such beauties, you must be proud." His gaze drifted to Elizabeth for a moment before back towards her husband, "Might I have your permission to walk about the room with your wife?" He asked Robert out of kindness as he held out an offered arm towards Elizabeth. If her husband denied him the offer, Magnus would find another way to get an audience with her, after all he was the king. But he was never one to cause futile disputes in the middle of a celebration.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Jonathan Chaimbers Character Portrait: Jonah Allyrion Character Portrait: Gwendolynn Castillon Character Portrait: Ilene Thatcher
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AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#F0A804 | Outfit
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ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit
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ILENE THATCHER
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Only Daughter | The Thorny Rose
#CD1076 | Outfit


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Elliot was beginning to wonder if perhaps he had made a made a blunder he would not be able to escape from. The princess was oddly quiet after his admission. True what he said was a huge gamble. It wasn't exactly accepted to be homosexual after all and he had blatantly told the princess that he was gay. She could very easily sneer in disgust and call the guards to arrest him and throw him in the dungeons. Elliot let his hand lightly resting on the princess's back while the other held her hand as they began dancing. His heart was hammering in his ears however and he felt as stiff as a board, his muscle taunt in his trepidation with the princess's response.

Then at last the princess gave an exclamation as the information clicked. "I'm afraid my lord, that there may not be much in that realm here at the Black Keep. I don't know if there will be anyone to satiate that appetite," the princess laughed.

Elliot gave a sigh of relief that her pause wasn't her debating whether or not to raise some sort of alarm. His gamble paid off. Elliot relaxed then, his movements become fluid for the dance once more. The playful smile reached his lips again and his eyes lit up with ease.

"Ugh! I know!" he scoffed then with a pout. "It will be a lonely summer I am sure. Such a dreadful thing. But if you do happen to see that one of these handsome lords might take a fancy to it, please do send them my way," he mused with a smile. "Especially if it is Jonah Allyrion. He is quite the looker. Jonathan Chaimbers would do quiet nicely as well. Howell has a nice roguish looking quality now that I have a chance to look him over," he added before he returned his gaze to the princess. "Sorry. I hope you don't mind me scouting eye candy," he chuckled. Elliot twirled the princess in his arms and watched as her dress flowed around her before he brought her closer as it turned into a bit of a waltz.

"It is of no offense to you though, my lady. You are quite beautiful and the dress does suit your complexion. But I digress. When not being forced into an overly tight corset, what do you enjoy doing with your time?" he asked her then.
______________

"Lord Avery, your first dance should be with none other than someone so beautiful as myself. You should be honoured.”

Avery took note of the smirk Lady Seraphina sported as she offered her hand to begin the dance. Though he understood it was supposed to be a joke, her comment was a little off putting for him and it made him self conscious. He knew his hands weren't really that smooth, what with his work in the fields and his sword practice. It must be quite aversive to Seraphina's delicate hands. Avery led her into the dance as the music began, unsure of what he wanted to reply to her.

"I am honored, Lady Seraphina. You are quite beautiful and your name is to. I am sorry your first dance is with one so rough," he answered. It was both an honest comment but he also wanted to see what her response was to that admission. He knew many noble women did not fancy lords as humble and work centered as he was.

And Avery couldn't sport that he was an excellent dance. He was sure his brother and sister were much better at this but he wasn't a poor dancer either. He was a warrior and a lot of that was anticipating your opponents move. So at first though the dance was a little awkward, he slipped into the rhythm quick enough. He wasn't sure what to say to her. He was generally a quite person after all. "Are you looking forward to the summer here?"

_________

Ilene was pulled out of her wonderings about Elliot's plans when she noticed someone had taken up the empty space in front of her. It was one of the Daverny boys. She could easily tell them apart from the other families thanks to their clothing. She had to say it was refreshing to see something different. She offered the lord a nod of her head and offered her hand. "Lord Howell, I would be happy to dance with you," she answered him. The two began to dance as the music picked up and Ilene studied the lord's face. He wasn't bad looking and he seemed polite at least. And she couldn't hide the interest she had about him and his family. She had never been on a boat and had never ventured anywhere near the Misty Isles. This was a perfect opportunity to ask Howell about it.

"So, Lord Howell, I hope you don't mind but I am very curious about the Misty Isles, about life on a ship. Would you enlighten me about the Misty Isles?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne Character Portrait: Ilene Thatcher Character Portrait: Howell Daverny Character Portrait: Marynn Daverny Character Portrait: Benjy Daverny
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MARYNN DAVERNY
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Only Daughter | The Quarter Master
#567580 | Outfit
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BENJY DAVERNY
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Youngest Child | The First Mate
#5BA664 | Outfit
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HOWELL DAVERNY
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Eldest Son | The Swordsman
#DEAD83 | Outfit


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"You are in lucky my lady, for I've been told I'm an excellent dancer." Marynn is glad that one of them is, she tries her best to get into the rhythm. Following his lead as best as she can manage. After a moment, it doesn't seem so hard not to get tangled up. Though she's a far cry from elegant. He's proving to be far more capable than she is, and, she won't deny that he is charming. If not, a bit on the side of too much.

"But it is fortunate that this dance is simple. A bow and a curtsey, promenade, break off into pairs, a few twirls... And then switch." Simple has never sounded so painfully annoying, or perhaps, it's the fact that she'll have to dance with each of the men here - which is as bothersome as it is utterly nerve wracking. Less for the fact that she'll have to show poor dancing skills in front of more than one person, and more for the fact that it's entirely likely she'll have decked someone by the end of the night. This whole affair is nothing but trouble.

"The most difficult part is pretending like we actually enjoy this boring dance." Marynn can't help but let out a dry laugh, a small part of her dying on the inside for showing any genuine emotion.

"I'm a Daverny, all we do is pretend to enjoy that which is beneath us," The patented Daverny bitterness seeps into her tone as they continue to dance. The less she focuses on how horribly stiff this event is, the easier it is to relax into the moves. She still hates everything about it, from the dress to the people. "I suppose it isn't so bad," She wrinkles her nose as she accepts that this will at least make things move along faster. Better than letting them all loose to converse; or in Marynn's case find the darkest corner to hide in until it all ended. If she wouldn't be easily noticed as missing she still would have done so.

She looks away for a moment to seek out her brothers, Benjy at least looks to be faring no better than herself. Perfect Howell, of course, has no issues with dancing at all. A born noble if she ever saw one. Marynn purses her lips but realizes that she probably shouldn't be giving the impression of not enjoying this at all. Surely her mother is there, somewhere with the other parents, watching Marynn with a critical eye. As if a mask has been slid into place, Marynn adopts a more fitting expression.

"I can't say I'm much for chatter either... merrymaking is much easier with a drink in hand," Marynn isn't talkative, to begin with, and really, she has no drive to create the conversation where clearly there is none. "I don't know much about your family, and nor do I believe you'd care much about mine so what then is there to talk about?" She ponders aloud. Biting her tongue when she realizes how rude that must have sounded. But, honesty is the best policy is it not? And truly, what would she do with useless information about families that have no impact on the Misty Isles.

Without waiting for him to reply she continues on, hoping that the more she speaks, the less she'll have to actually say anything of real value.

"We've covered names, of course, that's a given" She hums. "As well as the inability to dance, a phrase I'm sure to repeat more than once tonight." She smirks then, "I'm sure you'll also be able to reassure more of the ladies here about your ability to dance. How delightful." She trails off with a small 'hmm.' noise. She falls completely quiet, either unwilling or incapable of finding something else to say to fill the silence.




"Lord Howell, I would be happy to dance with you,"

"Excellent." He's glad that she does not recoil, as he would expect.

"So, Lord Howell, I hope you don't mind but I am very curious about the Misty Isles, about life on a ship. Would you enlighten me about the Misty Isles?"

"Ah, I don't mind at all." He's quite surprised, he's unsure if he's properly schooling himself or not for a moment. His careful composure having slipped for a moment.

"A rather odd topic of conversation I must say, the Misty Isles is usually avoided in conversation altogether." He's a bit amused by the fact that she would be interested. Though, it's refreshing as well. He isn't sure exactly what to say. There are as many good things as there are bad things about the Isles and living aboard a ship. There's little to tell that isn't accompanied by a bit of grime and grit. Dried blood and dirt is no stranger to the seas and its glory.

"It's only half as thrilling as people expect, mostly its hard work and avoiding angering the wrong sorts. Even the kindest men in the Isles are willing to steal or kill for coin, though they rarely get far in our case." He's had to skewer more than his fair share of friends, the life of a pirate isn't always about camaraderie and adventure. Especially when most men in the Misty Isles aren't in favor to lady luck. Her cruel hand often snuffing the life from any poor soul she can find. Their home is so overrun by the strife that Howell often carries his sword at his side. An unfortunate by-product of his mother and fathers cold rule. None of that is something to speak of in light conversation, however. He focuses for a moment on leading the dance, dipping, and twirling as needed. He rather enjoyed dancing, on the few occasions that he has had to do so.

"But it's not all bad," He can give his life a little credit in the least. "It's never boring, and there's always an adventure to be had. The view is breathtaking, even on a stormy night when the waves toss the ship hard enough to strike fear into the hardiest of men." He smiles, content to leave it at that. Though, were she to ask for more he wouldn't be unwilling to give it. However, he doesn't want the conversation to focus on him, he's interested as well in her. She seems different, more lively than some of the other nobles here. Her interest alone had sparked his.

"Oh, but it's not quite fair if I do all the talking," He winks, still keeping his careful, charming mask in place. His mother would be proud - that's almost enough to sour his mood. If not for his dancing partner.

"I'm sorry to say I don't know much about The South, I'm restricted by what little knowledge reaches the Isles." In truth, he wasn't quite sure there was much to hear of from the South the begin with, but that wasn't something he would say - or assume - in polite company.

"So, if you would be so kind as to tell me, Lady Ilene, what kind of exciting life do you lead?"






Ice cold as expected, Benjy made no attempts at pleasantries as the dance went on. He had no will to engage in any such charade if she was not also willing to put up a mask, and, honestly, each time there was a stumble he could only internally grin at how annoying it must be for her. Dancing wasn't a strong suit of his, but he certainly wasn't going to make an effort with her. Nobles. Pithy beings that they are wouldn't last a minute on a ship. He'd like to see any one of them try to walk across the Black Dodgers deck if only to see what their land legs afforded them.

“So I have been told by many.” he has no doubts that she has. Beautiful, yet from first impressions alone he can tell that she's got far too many terse remarks tucked up her sleeves. His jovial mood has been completely snuffed.

"Oh, I'm sure you do Lady Thorne." He remarked, without any true intention to insult.

“I must say I am surprised to see the Daverny clan out of the water.” He shakes his head, with an exaggerated sigh. He's beat to the chase before he can dredge up a proper quip. Somewhat, annoyed by her ability to unhinge his usual charms. At least there were better women to court here, he wouldn't have to deal with Sylva much longer.

“I am beginning to think the land itself may become wet with tears, what with your clumsy feet walking all over it.” Ah, sarcasm, he's begun to see far too many similarities between this woman and his sister. Although Marynn at least is much less of an ice queen.

Ignoring the sarcastic remark altogether he focuses on her previous words. "It's a myth that we never walk on land, and not a very intelligent one at that," he remarks, incapable of holding back the distaste in his tone. His contempt abundantly clear. "After all, one cannot always look after an entire island from afar."

"But your lot would know plenty about myths, right?" he does grin then, knowing that he's making no ally of her. Not that he would want to. He can practically hear his mother's head exploding somewhere beyond him. Though he knows she's probably more focused on Marynn. Benjy could make as many mistakes as he wanted here.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Aurora Grayson Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne Character Portrait: Vivienne Chaimbers Character Portrait: Brom Castillon Character Portrait: Jonathan Chaimbers
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JONATHAN CHAIMBERS
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Eldest Son | The Pawn
#9BC4E2 | Outfit
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FREDERICK CHAIMBERS
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Youngest Son | The Trickster
#96CDCD | Outfit
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VIVIENNE CHAIMBERS
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Only Daughter | The Weaver
#92CCA6 | Outfit


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Jonathan observed Lara as she listened to his attempts to reassure her, if he was at the court he would think it as merely polite, but in the Court, it was a large influence on how well you succeeded in the Game. If one didn't listen in the Court, they would miss the one link in the very chain that connected everything. Whilst she was no doubt playing the Game and merely using such information for her own uses, he felt somewhat at ease with her, neither of them seemed to fit in completely and he was glad of that.

He watched as she twirled, the dress swallowing her up as the skirts spun with her, for eye catching features it was a shame, her beauty was in the details and not in large statements, plain but not without intriguing detail. He was pulled back from his artistic view of her when she pointed out his defeated look.
“You are disheartened, my Lord? That you have no answer or on my behalf?” Her tone was genuine and he gave her a halfhearted smile.
"Am I so easily read?" He chuckled before bowing his head in agreement. "I'm just sorry that I can't offer more to put your mind at ease, when it's my fault it has concerned you."
“No matter your concerns, I am both happy that my plague may have spread, and that you did not partake in its spreading.” Lara's smile reassured him, he was glad to hear such words.

“Jonathan,” When he heard her utter his name, he smiled, glad for someone to treat him like a person and not a title for once. “I'm afraid my House is strict with formalities, however, as you said – your house considers mine a friend, therefore you may call me Lara. Lady Lara.” He returned a smile, but looking into her eyes he could see something, something with meaning but whether it was fear or sadness he couldn't quite tell, if he was to paint her, it would be the eyes that ruined it for him, painting such emotion into the eyes was always where he went wrong.

“The topic of my attempted marriage does not concern me when discussed with those who will take it with laugh, rather than those who... sheath it.” Jonathan nodded at her final words, she was right, there were people in the court who would use such a scandal against her.
"Such is the way of the Game." He found himself admitting out loud, his tone sombre and soft. He noticed her sigh as she looked over to where the parents stood, watching their children dance.
“The story may condemn me in some eyes, but a blackened name brings certain freedoms. I am in truth in gratitude to my gossiping groom. No noble in their right minds would sacrifice a son to an arranged marriage with the frog of the marsh.” There was a glint in her eye as she spoke, the very glint that sparked a wicked grin across his face, there were layers to the lady before him and it made her more human than most of the other ladies at court.
"Well, aren't you lucky? Some of us have boring duties to attend to and lack such freedoms." He teased her, his tone light and charming, his smile cheerful and soft.

Her next question surprisingly didn't catch him off guard, he was going to have to get used to that question over the summer. He was the eldest son of the Duke and held his own lands and responsibilities, yet was still to be betrothed.
“And you, Jonathan, you are of age and have been for some time. How is that you are here and not married? Have the Westerners kept your scandal?” He shook his head with an amused breath escaping his lips.
"And what scandal would that be, Lara? Has my misdeeds spread far and wide?" His words once again teasing her lightly. "The Westerns have never really married because we came of age and it was a duty, that's a recent thing to the West. The tribes were already family, marriage was sacred and the truest form of love... It's more customary in the West to marry for love, not for duty. I don't quite have the time to find such a bride." His explanation was probably more long winded than Lara had hoped for and as he went to engage her further, the signal for swapping partners hit his ears. He looked at Lara, and his smile faded, she was an interesting lady but their time at the dance had come to a stop.

He released her hand and waist, before bowing to her, with the music in a quiet lull he returned to the proper manner to address her. "It has been a pleasure, Lady Cavalier, I hope to see more of you during our time in the Summer." His words were sincere and wished it didn't seem so rude, but there were rules to this dance much to his chagrin. The pair then retook their places in line and Jonathan moved to his next partner, Lady Ilene Thatcher. Bowing before her, he took her hand and placed a kiss on her delicate hand. "You are a sight fit for the Gods, Lady Ilene." He greeted her, playing to her vanity, the corniness of the line reminding him of why he would roll his eyes when he heard his brother interact with women.


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The Prince was so full of confidence, it was slightly intimidating. Vivienne had known how to feign confidence for so long that she could see it in others, but with Brom it was rather real. For her, confidence was tiring, but to him it was just nature, who he was at his very core. "You’d find
 That I am very good at following orders." Brom's words were like silk, trying to wrap Vivienne up, but she was no fool to the ways of men who played several Games.
"A captain of the guard who's only good at following orders, what a pity for the nation." She teased him, the hand that rested on his shoulder now tracing a symbol on his chest, but no doubt to him it would seem like she was simply teasing him but it was more a gesture of mockery only a westerner would understand.

Vivienne followed in Brom's steps as he lead the pair in their dance, he was surprisingly graceful and delicate in his steps, they seemed to dance in perfect unison, there was no keeping up with him or slowing for him, their movements flowing together without issue. Vivienne would have been more surprised but he was a soldier, a soldier needs to know his enemies moves in order to defend himself, combat itself was a dance.

The pair continued their dance and harmless teasing, until Brom's outburst of laughter, whilst embarrassed at first, she recognised where she'd gone wrong and started to chuckle too, although in a much more reserved manner.
"Well, I have never had the pleasure of holding the tongue of a Western woman. But it is a delicacy I’d greatly enjoy experiencing." Vivienne blushed slightly at his cheeks, but the corner of her lips pulled up into a smirk as she held back another giggle.
"I guess, I could have worded that better."

Vivienne knew she would come to regret her question regarding the siblings separation, she had ruined the mood of the dance with just a few sort sentences and she could feel it when Brom's whole body stiffened, even though he tried to smile it off, she could see through it.
"I love my sister very much. She has grown to be quite beautiful
 She deserves all the happiness in the world. It’d be a lie to say that it doesn't hurt to know that this summer could be the last time my siblings and I are together. But," Vivienne was surprised by the spin, and rather ungracefully missed a step, but she managed to recover it before she embarrassed herself or her family further. "If someone were to hinder Rhaegar’s or Gwendolynn’s chance at happiness they would have to deal with me. I would rather them happy and separated then heartbroken and all of us together." Vivienne couldn't help but feel threatened at his words, her intentions were to help the royal siblings with something her mother mentioned in the carriage. The idea of his misinterpretation even upset her, he merely thought of her as a prying courtier.

Before Vivienne could clear up the situation, Brom bowed low and kissed her hand, "Enjoy the evening my lady for it is the first night of an amazing summer." With an almost defeated look she curtsied him before returning to the line, when she turned around, her fake smile for the Court had returned. When she looked back up, before her stood one of the Thorne's, a tingle sent shivers from her spine out across her body, that sense of dread she felt every time something bad happened was slowly creeping over her. He bowed and took her hand in his, before placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand.
"You are looking lovely this evening Lady Chaimbers." Vivienne offered him a smile and a slow blink, she was a good actress, she told herself to simply get through this one dance.
"Lord Thorne," She managed to say his name clearly and without a quiver. "The same could much be said of you." She took her position with him for the beginning of the dance, she looked at how well he had presented himself and she smirked, looking at the people surrounding them, she realised she was in no immediate danger. "Sometimes the most venomous snakes, have the most beautiful scales." She quoted her teacher outloud to Sylas. "The Snake House, that's what your family is known as?" She didn't know where she was going with this, but maybe if she could make him aware of her knowledge that the family was dangerous, he'd see her as a threat and not a victim, in her head she hoped to intimidate him, but she would no doubt put herself in more danger by acting in such a way.


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Frederick smiled as Aurora laughed at his story, just by looking at her he could tell there was little in her that made her malicious, she was a young and kind soul, the kind that would give you fuzzy, warm hugs. Her seemingly delicate nature inspired a bit of guilt in himself, but he shook it off being the arrogant Westerner he was, he couldn't second judge himself.
“I have never been outside of the Riverlands. Being the youngest does not get you far from home
 But I love adventure, and I have read books on the Western Bluffs, none of the Fae though. They sound marvellous. The only other person with this white hair is my mother and she isn’t a goddess as much as she may seem like it at times.” He chuckled at the comments on her mother as they twirled under the parents watchful gazes. “I would love to travel there one day. I would love to see everything.”
"I have suspicions that she would not be too happy to hear you say that." He teased, before twirling her in a swift motion, luckily he'd done it enough times with more alcohol in his system and his partners so even if she stumbled, he'd be able to catch her without an issue. "And if you ever wish to see more of the world, the Southern Shores would very much welcome you." The invitation was very much so real, but his tone implied he was merely teasing her. He spinned her once again, softer this time so as not to disorientate her and let her drop into his arm, her entire body relying on him for her not to meet the marbled dancefloor. He leaned in closer and whispered in her ear "I also have a feeling you'd get on well with my sister, mayhaps she could even show you some of the lands believed to of housed the Fae maidens."

Frederick returned her to a standing position and they resumed the dance, the theatrics earning him an approving glance from his mother, but an eye roll from his father, not that he noticed, his full attention on Aurora as she discussed alcohol with him.
“From what I have seen though
 alcohol can be quite beautiful too.” Frederick's head cocked to one side and he noiceably pouted as he pondered, the only beautiful images he had faded when he sobered up, as in from a 10 to a 2, and vomit was never pretty. “From what I have seen, a mans true heart comes out when he is drunk. In that sense, alcohol is like the key that unlocks the window of a persons true inhibitions.” Then it clicked in his head, he then chuckled at his previous imaginings and he smiled at her.
"Beautiful for you maybe, humourous to I imagine." He looked into her soft eyes, the soft colour and the innocence behind her words, made her all the more delicate than he first anticipated.

“I suppose it has its good and its bad. Is that an odd way to think of it?” Frederick chuckled, unsure of the intent for asking, but he offered her a smile.
"Not at all, in a sense it is true." His own honesty seemingly taking him by surprise. "I suppose it depends on the person, and why they're drinking."

As he trailed off, so to did the music, indicating they were to switch partners. "It would appear our time has come to an end," He glanced at the other dancers before returning his sights to Aurora. "'tis a shame, I was rather enjoying the discussion." He smiled at her, before letting her go and bowing to her. "It was a pleasure to have danced with you, lady Aurora, hopefully we shall see more of each other over the Summer."

Frederick fell back in line after saying his goodbyes to Aurora, he fell back in line and across from him now stood Clara Allyrion, the miracle child of the North, he didn't really know what that meant just that he'd heard Jonathan and their father discuss the family before. He stepped closer to her, a smile on his face, making his eyes softer and accenting his cheekbones. When she finally noticed him approaching, her reaction made him chuckle.
"Oh, I didn't see you there, My lord, You gave me a fright!"
"I guess, I'm just so unremarkable." He teased. "Especially if such a beauty doesn't notice me... Perhaps I should become a thief." His final comment more of a teasing ponder than an official disregarding of his life of luxury. He then bowed down to his her hand, her hands were soft and delicate, but there was a bump on one of her fingers, she had the hands of a writer. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Clara." Frederick wasn't one for the proper way of address, if he is to marry one of these women, he should address them by their name, not the name simply inherited from their father.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Seraphina Grayson Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Jonathan Chaimbers Character Portrait: Rosalyn Grayson Character Portrait: Gwendolynn Castillon
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AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#F0A804 | Outfit
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ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit
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ILENE THATCHER
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Only Daughter | The Thorny Rose
#CD1076 | Outfit


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“Well my lord, I shall keep my eyes peeled while I dance with the other Lords and report back to you with my findings. But in return you should listen out for which gentlemen have true and honest intentions so that I might survive this summer unscathed.”

“Thank you m’lady. I great appreciate you looking out for me. And I promise I’ll return the favor. I promise I won’t push my brother on you, beyond saying he is one that has true and honest intentions. I hope you do find a lucky stag that pleases you and if that happens to be my brother, I wish the best to you both. If not, I won’t begrudge you. That leaves 6 men I need to report to you about,” Elliot answered her with a smile.

“I find Sylas Thorne quite agreeable, but I stop that right there,” she said then before leaning in and Elliot obliged and moved closer to hear her. “We all know the rumors there.”

“Very true. I would be careful,” he nodded and spun the princess. He was honestly happy that she was returning his earlier banter. She seemed a pretty down to earth woman. That was a good thing at least.

“I do agree Jonah is quite handsome. Howell looks charming as does your brother,” she chuckled and made a silly face. Elliot couldn’t help but grin. He almost wanted to say ‘Charming? Are you sure you are looking at my brother?’ but he figured those jokes would have to come later when there was an easy friendship. He liked to tease and play but he didn’t want to sabotage his brother either. “As for Jonathan Chaimbers, I’ll leave him to you. He isn’t quite my type
 At least, so far as I know.”

“Ooh. I would be glad to take him off your hands,” he grinned. “Without him, you’d have 5 to pick from and if you are staying away from a certain Thorne, then 4. See? Well on our way to narrowing down the playing field,” he winked. When the conversation turned to hobbies, he smiled as he listened.

“Well
 I do enjoy horseback riding. I’m quite good at it, even beat my Father in races. Honestly, I enjoy most things that gentlemen prefer that is unacceptable for a female to enjoy. My mother detests it. But what does she expect when I grew up with two older brothers.”

He chuckled and an excited glint entered his eyes. “I love horseback riding. We must make it a point to go riding this summer. And I find nothing wrong with a woman wanting to enjoy the 'realms' of men. I think it gives you an advantage. You wouldn't be a damsel in distress,” he answered her. Then the dance sadly came to an end. He knew he couldn’t be as free with the other woman as he had been with Gwen. He had taken a risk as it was. He would have to posture and pretend to be interested in the others.

“Well I did quite enjoy our time together. I do hope we can spend time together again
 When I’m not wearing an obscenely tight corset.”

"It was honestly a pleasure, your Highness,” he answered and gave her knuckles a farewell brush. “I look forward to our time together.” He watched her leave a moment and sighed. And to think the dancing had only just begun. He loved dancing but dancing with all of these pretty ladies was going to be a drag. He shook his head and turned to settle his gaze on his new dance partner.

“Ah, Lady Rosalyn, it is an honor,” Elliot began and gave her a low bow as he took her hand in his own. Just like Jonah before him, he immediately felt the callouses on her finger tips. It intrigued Elliot and he arched an eyebrow in his curiosity. It wasn’t often that women played with weapons. He offered her a bright smile as he kissed her knuckles. He righted himself as the two of them began to dance. “My lady, forgive me if I am being rude but it is not often to see a woman so well-trained with a weapon,” he mused, a smile never leaving his face. “I do hope the reason behind your training was a simple desire and eagerness to learn it, and not one of dire necessity. I hope to see you in your element one of these days.”
________

“Lord Avery, as rough as you may be, it is not the outside that matters at all. It is the inside of the soul, the talents one possesses and how they use them to their advantage is what matters most to me. If the shell for that soul happens to be appealing, it is just a bonus. As for my summer
 Well, being in the castle setting truly brings out the best in me. A change of pace was never bad for anyone. Besides, are we not supposed to find our true loves here?”

Avery offered her a genuine smile. He had been wrong about her first impression. It was refreshing to hear that not everyone valued appearance above all else. He too cared far more about what was on the inside, the personality of someone, rather than attractiveness. He could appreciate beauty but he’d rather have someone good hearted than ‘pretty’ by his side. So much of his work dealt with helping the people that pledged fealty to him and his family after all. He wouldn’t be able to tolerate someone far more concerned with their own comfort. Seraphina seemed interesting at least.

“I agree,” he answered her. [color=#F0A804]“Appearance shouldn’t count so much. Our deeds speak far louder and longer than our outer shells. As for changes and true loves, I don’t think we’ll find true love by pursuing it by force. With everyone here pursuing each other in the hopes of ‘winning’, it will amount to more ‘losing’ and pushing away what is real. Love should flow naturally, if it is there. A friendship can be far more valuable than a romance in strange situations like these,” he mused. He probably wasn’t hitting any winning notes but he didn’t want to lie either. A love built on lies was nothing but empty.

Before he could change topic, it was time to switch partners. He gave the lady another bow. “Have a good evening, Lady Seraphina. If there is love here, I do hope you find it in one of these suitors.” Avery turned to his next partner then, Sylva Thorne. He honestly didn’t know what to think about Sylva. She was beautiful and he loved her eyes, though they were cold and maybe there was a certain annoyance in her gaze. Her dark hair did make her very different from the fair haired girls around the room. There was something about her he couldn’t place and even more than with Seraphina, he wasn’t sure what to say to her.

He took her hand and offered her smile. “Good evening, Lady Sylva. You look very beautiful tonight. I do hope you are enjoying the dancing thus far?” he asked as they began their second round of dancing.
________

"A rather odd topic of conversation I must say, the Misty Isles is usually avoided in conversation altogether."

“That may be true, but that is where you are from and we are dancing so we could get to know each other, right? It is only right that I ask you about your life.” Ilene answered with a smile. She had heard fairytales but that wouldn’t do Howell justice to just go by what she had heard in crazy tales. She’d give him the chance to tell her himself.

"It's only half as thrilling as people expect, mostly its hard work and avoiding angering the wrong sorts. Even the kindest men in the Isles are willing to steal or kill for coin, though they rarely get far in our case. But it's not all bad. It's never boring, and there's always an adventure to be had. The view is breathtaking, even on a stormy night when the waves toss the ship hard enough to strike fear into the hardiest of men."


Ilene listened with rapt attention. It did sound threatening and dangerous but what life wasn’t filled with danger? It really didn’t sound all that different from their world here. “That doesn’t sound all that different from here. The angering the wrong sorts and people killing for coin bit. The same can be said about the political arena,” she answered him. “And it does sound like a beautiful sight. I’d like to see what the view is like on board a ship. Maybe not in a storm, mind, but I would like to see the sea. I’ve heard that it looks like gold glittering on the horizon when the sun hits it and at night the dark waves glitter silver. Is that true? I’ve never been anywhere near the sea to be honest.”

"Oh, but it's not quite fair if I do all the talking. I'm sorry to say I don't know much about The South, I'm restricted by what little knowledge reaches the Isles. So, if you would be so kind as to tell me, Lady Ilene, what kind of exciting life do you lead?"

Ilene chuckled at the lord. “Then we have much to learn from each other, Lord Howell. I’ll teach you about the South and you can teach me about the Misty Isles. But really, my life isn’t all that exciting. Farming is our staple and that is what we mostly deal with. We do a lot of trades and such so it is interesting to see the strangers that come by. The most exciting thing about the South is the forest if you want to explore it. The South is quiet and peaceful. Elliot often refers to it as ‘boring’,” she chuckled. Maybe getting close to Howell would be a good thing. Since he did live in the Misty Isles, maybe they could open some sort of trade route. A partnership could be a good thing. If ever there was a war they’d have an ally to turn to if nothing else.

And that is when the dance ended, signaling the switch. Ilene gave a courtesy to Howell then. “I look forward to the chance to learn more about you and your Misty Isles,” she smiled. She extended her hand out to her new dance partner then.

“Lord Jonathan,” she greeted with a nod of her head.

"You are a sight fit for the Gods, Lady Ilene," Jonathan began

"Thank you. You are not too bad yourself," she said with a little smile. "Though I suppose saying that we are beautiful is going to be the headline for all of these dances. Good for the ego if nothing else. Why don't you tell me something interesting about yourself?" she asked then.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lara Cavalier Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Sylas Thorne Character Portrait: Rhaegar Castillon Character Portrait: Gwendolynn Castillon Character Portrait: Ilene Thatcher
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MARYNN DAVERNY
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Only Daughter | The Quarter Master
#567580 | Outfit
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BENJY DAVERNY
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Youngest Child | The First Mate
#5BA664 | Outfit
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HOWELL DAVERNY
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Eldest Son | The Swordsman
#DEAD83 | Outfit


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“Then we have much to learn from each other, Lord Howell. I’ll teach you about the South and you can teach me about the Misty Isles. But really, my life isn’t all that exciting. Farming is our staple and that is what we mostly deal with. We do a lot of trades and such so it is interesting to see the strangers that come by. The most exciting thing about the South is the forest if you want to explore it. The South is quiet and peaceful. Elliot often refers to it as ‘boring’,” Exciting or not, Howell listened with his whole attention focused on her. The dance something done in the background, dips, and twirls automatically. He isn’t so easily battered as the rest of his family when it comes to being on land. He finds the contrast between their homes fascinating. Farming, for all its import, may be ‘boring’ but it seems like honest work. Something that many of the people in the Isle’s can’t boast about. Trade and thievery the main source of their income. He could find plenty of room for an alliance between them, no doubt, and it helps that Ilene is so openly willing to speak to him. Maybe he could show her a thing or two about what it's like to be a pirate. Even if he is more of the proper sort.

The end of the dance comes far too fast for Howell’s taste, but alas, there are many people here tonight. And no reason to deny further interesting conversation. Especially since it seems his next partner is one of three reasons that the nobles have come to gather here. “I look forward to the chance to learn more about you and your Misty Isles,” Howell returns her smile, glad that his first dancing partner of the night was someone who did not harbor ill will or misinformed rumors “As do I.” Before turning to his next partner for the night.

Gwendolynn is truly a sight to behold, and yet, beyond the obvious beauty is a spark of rebellion hiding in the shine of her eyes. Like recognizes like, despite Howell’s penchant for pretending at being truly proper. Or perhaps Howell is superimposing his own views of the situation. Were he to be under such strict supervision, he’d have certainly gone mad. Lady Elena is bad enough, he can’t imagine how much worse she’d be if she were a queen. He could tell that she, most of all, would most likely have plenty of interesting things to say. That, he has no doubts of. “Lord Daverny.” She curtsies, and he bows back before he takes her hand lightly. Leading them into the dance with a newly practiced ease. Glad to have gotten the steps down between the first iteration and now.

“Lady Castillon,” He smiles, channeling the easy charm that makes him who he is. “Just Howell is fine, we are here to get to know one another after all.” A true enough statement, though truthfully, Howell is already suffocating under how proper and put together this event is, the formality on top of that just makes it so much worse. “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself, so to speak” Howell comments, “I know these events probably aren’t all that fun. Though I find it rather interesting that all of us have managed to be this mannered for so long – especially with so many clashing personalities in one space.” He wouldn’t mind something interesting happening, so long as it didn’t come from his family. They had enough issues here without demonizing themselves in front of the other nobles. As if their reputation weren’t already bad enough. It amuses him in a way, how easy it is to speak his mind when unencumbered with his siblings. They are too often the stifling force behind his own ability to relax.

~*~



The charming smile was not completely lost on her, and Marynn, for her worth did not pretend that he was not indeed charming. Though she still had to force her expressions, no amount of charm would change that. And she had no inclinations to pretend otherwise. Compliment or not. ”Well
 whoever told me that all Daverny’s lost their intelligence from drinking that salt water was wrong.” He bowed and parted with a kiss on the hand, Marynn bid him farewell as per required, wondering if that had been a true compliment or more of a backhanded one. Whatever the case, she did not let her mask fall too far. "Let’s hope more rumors are disproved this night
 What fun would a summer in the Keep be if we all already knew everything about each other.” Her lips quirked into a small smirk after that, “Indeed.” She spoke, though more aloud to herself than to him. It would simply be no fun if things turned out at clear cut as she had formerly assumed it would be. Nothing like a few surprises here and there to keep the waters from going stagnant. "Have a pleasant evening my lady.”

“And you, my lord.” She nodded, satisfied that she had in the least held her ground in words. Her skills at dancing may be wrought with fault, but she still had her tongue and the spark behind it. She took a few moments to breathe, relaxation far from mind. She could not drop the rigidity of her spine or the way her cheeks seemed to burn from the force of keeping up such a peasant expression. She is tired already, wanting to find somewhere to exercise her skills of hiding away for a while. But this event had only just begun, there was more to contend with in the coming few dances. Almost hilariously, she found that she was soon faced by the prince. Looking down the line, to where her brothers were, she could see that Howell too had been paired with one of the royal children. Something about that amused her, internally. Externally she curtsied, feeling a little out of her depth here.

He was grinning, and she could not tell if it was meant to mock or encourage. Either way, she steeled her resolve. ”A pleasure my lady Daverny.” He caught her almost off guard, there was no hint of a lie in his tone, so far as she could tell. And that gave her some pause, as he kissed her knuckles and offered his arm. ”How are your land legs faring you? I can imagine it’s quite different being in the Vale.”

“This dance is tiring,” She spoke in truth, eyebrow raised as if to dare him to make a joke out of it. She had not yet sussed him out yet. Nothing separating the idea of who he is supposed to be from whom he really is. Marynn knows she shouldn’t judge so early on, but the urge is still there to bite. “Otherwise, I do quite fine on land. Would be better if I were not forced into wearing such dreadfully unwieldy clothing.” Her complaints were no doubt unoriginal, she couldn’t possibly be the only one uncomfortable with dressing out of their own style. Marynn at least, reinforced hers as best she could with the customizations she had made. Unwilling to play a role that she does not belong to, no matter who it was for. Something that her kin never seemed to understand. Still, she would have liked to have had some form of pants instead of this dreadfully long dress. Too damned easy to trip over.

“And you?” She doesn’t mean to sound harsh, though her words naturally fall from her lips in varying rough tones. Her smile, small and careless, hopefully, contradicts that. “How are you faring, knowing that the ladies here are the only choices you have?” Marynn doesn’t realize how rude that sounds before its already out. There is no room for regret, however, not in her world. Perhaps he won’t take it as badly as she meant it.

~*~




“I would hold your tongue, pirate, else wise you may wake up one morning to find that it has gone missing.” Benjy raised both eyebrows in mock surprise, he had imagined a vicious response but truly, this was amusing. No doubt he’d have to be weary of the Thorne’s. Perhaps he should inform Marynn that he’s made enemies already – how delightful. She would at least get a kick out of it. Threats were her game usually, but he quite liked the feeling it gave him. The rush of excitement, and perhaps a tinge of fear.

Alas, his enjoyment of the situation only seemed to grow as the dance came to a close, and the partner change was upon them. “I’m quaking in my boots.” He muttered beneath his breath, long after Sylva had gone. He pitied whoever stepped into that one's war path and hoped that he would not have to be formally within her presence again. Next found himself standing in front of the Cavalier girl. He instantly found himself intrigued, if not only because she seemed much easier to get along with than Sylva. She was different in posture, the air of her seemed to reek of originality. Not to mention, she had practically come alone – parents notwithstanding – each of the other guests here have siblings of a similar age to contend with. “Greetings my lady,” He bows, turning up the dial on his charms as much as he can. Smile bright and careful. There was something like excitement in the way she fidgeted, he found it endearing and a good sign that he was not facing another rude dancing partner.

At least this girl has a more easy style, pretty, without being utterly terrifying in the process. Definitely of the kind he would usually pursue. As shallow as that may be.

“Is there anything you wish to speak of my lady?” He did not wish to dominate the conversation, less she feels put out by his boisterous nature.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Elliot Thatcher Character Portrait: Sylva Thorne Character Portrait: Jonathan Chaimbers Character Portrait: Rosalyn Grayson Character Portrait: Ilene Thatcher Character Portrait: Avery Thatcher
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AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#F0A804 | Outfit
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ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit
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ILENE THATCHER
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Only Daughter | The Thorny Rose
#CD1076 | Outfit

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Ilene was smiling at the young lord Chambers as they prepared to start their round of dancing. The man opened his mouth to say something to her question but then a sudden wind erupted and the lights were snuffed out in seconds. Ilene gasped and probably clung to the lord's hand tighter than she should, but she knew immediately something was wrong. Lights going out like that was not something normal and in this crowd of people, it was hard to see anything, and even if you did, everyone just looked like shadows. She couldn't quite tell who was who yet. She blinked furiously trying to get her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room. None of them had weapons except the guards so it was terrifying. She wanted to be close to her bothers and parents. Were they okay? Where were they in this darkness?

She heard a rustle of movement and whipped her head around trying to find where exactly the noise was coming from but it was too late. Johnathan was quick but he wasn't quick enough as he tried to move her out of harm's way. Ilene stumbled confused but the questioning gaze turned to one of horror as Johnathan began to fall forward, blood seeping out of his mouth as one hand dropped from her should to rest where a sword was protruding from his abdomen. The sword twisted before withdrawing and as the fallen lord began to slump forward, Ilene screamed, echoing another scream in the room. It turned the ballroom into a frenzy of activity as panic and fear began to rise. People wanted to get out of the ball room but it was so hard to see where the danger was. Ilene stumbled with Johnathan's weight and they tumbled to the ground. Ilene clutched the man who had saved her life close and raised the other to try and protect herself but the murderer had vanished into the darkness.

"Father! Avery! Elliot!" She called and gently laid Johnathan down on the ground and tried to scramble away. The murderer could be anywhere near her. She needed to get away from the spot where the assassin had struck. With the darkness around them, she bumped into a few people and ended up stumbling when she tried to get up, her foot stepping on the front of her dress and pulled herself back down.
______

Avery wasn't sure what he should say around Sylva. He kept staring at her eyes though. "Your eyes are absolutely stunning," he murmured softly. He cleared his throat then, trying to think of another topic to discuss. He didn't want to talk about the ball or why they were all doing here. He had that discussion already and really, with each lady he wanted to discuss something different and get to know them. All of this just felt off however. It wasn't really all that natural and the only thing he could think of was the ball. Was he really so dull to not be able to think of some common chatter? The ball and farming and he highly doubted the woman before me wanted to talk about farming. "Did you see anything interesting on your travels?" he asked.

Before she could respond, everything changed. As soon as the lights went out, Avery tensed and like many of the other men, he pulled Sylva behind him to protect her from any oncoming danger. He'd trained how to fight blinded so he called upon his training now and closed his eyes trying to map out where everyone was and sense any oncoming danger. He didn't feel anything coming towards them but then he heard the screams, his sister calling for him. He couldn't let anything happen to his sister. "Stay where you are!" he called back to her and glanced a round trying to figure out what he could use as a weapon. He hated the rule that they had to leave their weapons out of the ball even more. He took Sylva's hand then and rushed to the table. He wasn't about to leave Sylva unattended to get hurt. He grabbed a carving knife off the table and rushed to where his sister had screamed and found her on the ground, trying to avoid being stepped on. Even if people avoided her, they stepped on her dress, constantly preventing her from getting up to her feet. Another point against long trailing gowns.

From behind her, his father and mother appeared and finally helped her up to her feet. She clung to them and sobbed. Avery looked closer and quickly spotted the dark splotches on her dress. He took her hand and saw the evidence of blood. "Are you injured?"

Ilene shook her head. "N-no. This is... it... Johnathan.. he saved me," she answered and pointed at Lord Johnathan's body.

Avery looked over and sighed. Johnathan Chambers. He let go of Sylva then and looked over at her. "You'll be safe with us until things settle," he promised her before he moved over to Johnathan and slowly pulled him away from the dance floor so he wasn't stepped on or tripped over. That would just cause more chaos. The question now was, where the hell was Elliot? Was he okay? He wanted to look for him but he had to stay and protect his parents, Ilene, and Sylva. "Back into a wall so whoever is doing this can't get behind us," he instructed.

_______
“A weapon? And what, may I ask, makes you believe that it is a weapon I wield instead of a trade? I know many a women with rough fingers due to cooking and needle work. What about me says that I would know how to wield a weapon? I am just an innocent lady of course.”

Ooh, Elliot liked her. He grinned as he rested his hand lightly on her hip and began to lead her in the beginning of the dance, watching her movements. "You have a point but-" well the conversation was going to have to wait for later. He stopped dancing when the lights went out. He pulled back so neither was compromised in each other's arms and tensed. He narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze trying to find a hint of what may be going on. He heard the scream then and his eyes widened. "Ilene!" he gasped. He started to rush forward with his dance partner in toe but stopped abruptly when he heard his brother. He'd get to her faster. She'd be safe in his brother's protection. His head whipped around again trying to think about what he could do to get the upper hand here.

He grabbed a servant that tried to skitter passed him. The young thing squealed and coward as if from a strike. "The chandeliers, go get help and relight them so we can see," he instructed. The maid nodded and hurried away when Elliot let her go. Elliot turned to Rosalyn then. [color=#551A8B]"Get under the table, you'll be safer there."