As the group slogged back through the snow as quickly as possible, Ithilian caught them up on everything that had happened, and handed over the Dukeās correspondence with Gaspard, though admittedly Lucien, and he expected the others as well, was more concerned about the news that Amalia had been taken captive, with the knowledge that Marcus was planning something worth warning them about in specific terms. It was possible that the two were connected, but they would have to figure that all out at a later time. The first priority had to be finding Amalia.
It was quite reasonably suggested that Ithilian and Rilien be the ones to infiltrate the catacombs and free their ally, as they were easily the stealthiest of the lot. Besides that, a fair amount of attention was bound to fall on the hunting party due to their success. This, Lucien had pointed out, could be to their advantage. They would all find themselves quite popular upon their return, which would give them a chance to ask around, and see if they could figure anything out about the mysterious Tevinter guest, or the Dukeās political stance of late. With luck, they would get some kind of clue that helped them piece together whatever it was that Amalia had figured out.
So it was with at least the bones of a plan that they made it back to the gate, the snow beginning to taper off. Still, it was likely that the party would be moved to the ballroom indoors, where many of the guests had taken shelter from the adverse weather. Once they were inside, they noted that Prosper had arrived, unsuccessful, in advance of them. Their accomplishment was met with an appropriate amount of excitement by Orlesian standards, and it was easy to get swept up into the crowd as they proceeded across the bailey and into the chateau, and similarly easy to slip away from it, in the case of the two elves.
The ballroom was expansive, the food already moved inside, various dignitaries, nobles, and foreign guests milling about the space. The mood of the room picked up when the hunters returned, trophy in hand, and of course the first thing they were bombarded with were dozens of requests to tell the story in all its splendor, as the case may be. Lucien himself chose to indulge a few people thusly, slowly making his way to where he suspected the first cache of useful information would be: in the keeping of MichaĆ«lās dear wife, the Lady Marceline.
Lucien handled the attention far better than Michaƫl, as it turned out. When questioned and asked to regale the story of the hunt, he shuffled his feet and cast his gaze about, appearing more interested in searching for something, or someone, than recounting their recent excursion. He politely directed them toward Lucien instead, and took the opportunity to wander off in search of his wife. It did not take long, as evidenced by the smile stretching from one of Michaƫl's ears to the other his gaze firmly set on the lovely woman in front of him.
Lady Marceline stood at the edge of a banquet table, a goblet of wine in her hand and returning Michaƫl's smile with a small one of her own. In the same way that her husband was clearly a chevalier by the manner in which he carried himself, Lady Marceline was clearly born from noble stock. Hair of dark raven fell in gentle curls past her shoulders, immaculately clean and brushed studded with a pair of crystal blue eyes. The dress that she wore was of a deep purple, with matte black embroidery etching across the fabric. As Michaƫl approached, she reached to his collar with a slender hand and gripped it, pulling the man down and pressed her cherry red lips against his. He allowed himself to be pulled in, and reached around her with his large arms and plucked her off her feet.
Once he placed her back on her feet, Lady Marceline placed a coy hand on Michaƫl's chest and gently pushed away, turning her attention to Lucien. "Ser Lucien," she began in a refined Orlesian accent, "I must express my gratitude in allowing my dear husband to join you and your retinue on the hunt. Not only due to your success, but by merely allowing him to be present, the name 'BenoƮt' is now on the lips of many of our peers. Our popularity is sure to rise as the night continues." Lady Marceline then finished the thought with a polite curtsey. Allowing herself a glance at Michaƫl, Lady Marceline spoke again, "On a more personal note, I must also thank you for bringing my husband back to me safely."
"Again," Michaƫl reminded.
"Again," Lady Marceline conceded.
Lucien offered a smile and a small shake of his head. āYou are, of course, quite welcome, Lady Marceline.ā He couldnāt say heād been thinking overmuch about the BenoĆ®t name, really, and he deeply suspected that MichaĆ«l hadnāt been either. It had just been the kind of thing that it seemed fun to do with an old friend, rather regardless of the danger. But he acknowledged the effect it would have now, of courseāif he really thought about it, he supposed that they would earn points not only for their success, but also because of the fact that MichaĆ«l had accompanied him. It was all enough to make his head spin, but heād get used to thinking this way again, if he let himself.
And he would have to let himself, eventually. Just hopefully not yet. Doing his duty as the party who knew bothāand also, he would admit, with a touch of a besotted manās particular prideāhe introduced Sophia to Marceline, made sure everyone who had a drink wanted one, and allowed those continuing to make the rounds do so around them, body language indicating that he intended to stay and chat a while. He couldnāt imagine that the good lady would protest, after all, and he suspected she might know something about all of this that the rest of them did not.
Lucien didnāt know Marceline as well as he knew MichaĆ«l, of course, but he had been of her acquaintance long enough to understand that she was a particularly shrewd woman. While some maintained their positions mostly with judicious applications of wealth, families without quite enough wealth to do that tended to sink or swim by how judiciously they could apply information. She happened to be very good at it.
āIt has been a while, has it not, since the Dukeās hunt was so well-attended?ā He offered Marceline a small smile, a veiled invitation into an exchange of knowledge. She would understand what he was getting at. āIt doesnāt seem likely that enthusiasm for risking oneās neck stalking wyverns has risen apace.ā Did she know why there were so many people here?
"Had news spread that the Empress's nephew himself would have been in attendance, then I am sure that there would have been many more to arrive in order to catch a glimpse of you. Fortunately, we can have you to ourselves for the time being," Lady Marceline replied with a tight smile. She did not seem to be especially forthcoming in what she had learned. Michaƫl had sensed the discussion for what it was and backed up to stand behind and beside Marceline, instead choosing to nurse his wine glass instead of step between his wife and Lucien.
Marceline took a sip from her own wine glass, and crossed one arm over her body and let the other rest on it, keeping her goblet at lip level at all times. "Speaking of the Empress's nephew, I do so wonder what provoked you to come out of hiding and accept the good Duke's invitation. Are we attempting to acclimatize back into the Game, now that you have been exonerated of your exile?" Lady Marceline said with a subtle tilt of her head, "Or is it, perhaps, something more?" Michaƫl's head dipped and he stared into his wine glass as he swirled it.
It was clear that Lady Marceline was fishing for something, and that she would not reveal what she had heard unless Lucien could give her something in return. A little twist appeared in the corner of her mouth, obviously she was wondering if Lucien had lost any of his tack in his time away from Orlais as well.
āFamilial obligation is a strange thing,ā Lucien replied mildly, taking a sip of his own wine. It wasnāt quite his familyās red, but he did like it. He tried to convince himself he was imagining the hint of bitterness on his tongueāhe could not here be as straightforward as he liked, not even with the people he considered allies. However much he might like and respect Marceline, she was playing a game. The Game, actually. Nothing came for free when that was accounted for. āEven one who seems to avoid it, to hide from it in some darkened corner, cannot avoid it entirely. May not even want to, when push comes to shove. And so here I am.ā
"Indeed," Lady Marceline agreed, letting her eyes fall back on to Michaƫl's face for a moment, and he greeted her with a warm smile and wink. She returned his smile though rolled her eyes and turned back to Lucien. "You should not avoid it, because in the end, all that we are is because of our families," she added, taking a drink of her wine. "Do you like it?" Marceline asked, gesturing toward Lucien's wine glass. "It is our LƩcuyer 9:35 Dragon Vintage. A very good wine by any measure, though it lacks a certain profile that more of our specials possess. The good Duke asked us to supply a few casks for his hunt."
Swirling the wine in his glass, the Lady pulled in in close to her nose and took in the aroma before her attentions returned to Lucien. "Perhaps it is a... Family matter that is the cause of such a draw to the Duke's gathering, and not the wyvern hunt itself?" she began, apparently finding Lucien's own answer sufficient.
"There are many nasty rumors abound, as I am positive you are aware of? From what I have come to understand, the Duke has been spending more and more time away from his estate in Val Royeaux and more in the Free Marches. And many are wondering if a... Lover, is to blame." Lady Marceline said the word with a subtle glance at Sophia, though her smile never faltered. "Perhaps many of the guests are hoping to catch a glimpse of this mystery person?" She said, though by her tone, she didn't place much stock in the rumor herself.
She paused for a moment to take a drink from her goblet, tossing her gaze about as she drank as if she was searching for someone. "Have you had the pleasure of meeting the Duke's guest from Tevinter? An interesting man, this Lord Marcus, to be sure, though I have unfortunately not had the good fortunes of meeting him face to face. There have also been rumors stemming from his presence, of course mostly from the mouths of young women, as you must understand. They say he is looking to take an Orlesian wife."
Turning and placing a gentle hand on Michaƫl's face, Marceline finished, "Personally, I prefer that my men have a little more heart." Michaƫl grinned at the compliment and took Marceline's hand in his own, and placed a kiss on the back of it.
This was all news to Lucien. His father hadnāt mentioned these rumors of a paramour to him, likely because he thought them irrelevant, or else because they were so commonplace that Guy trusted he would hear them anyway. Though from the way she sounded, Marceline didnāt put much stock in them, either, which was perhaps understandable. There were many reasons a person could come to prefer spending time away from the capitalāit didnāt have to be something as sensational as an affair. Not that affairs were usually sensational in Orlaisāthe amount of attention they received depended mostly on the identity of the parties involved. But still, it was probably the most sensational of the reasonable options.
Lucien mulled it over for a bit, staring quite intently into his wine glass. āIām afraid Iāve not met him, either,ā Lucien said truthfully, though how regretful he was about the fact was up for debate. He could see where a Magister near the Empressās court could be a much more interesting topic for discussion, and no doubt the rumors floating around about his intentions were numerous. āIs he a friend of the Dukeās? Iād like to know who to ask for an introduction.ā Also true, but more because he was interested in knowing who Marcusās friends in the crowd were than because he really wanted to meet him as such.
Lady Marceline frowned and shook her head, "Not particularly as such, from what I understand. He is a diplomatic visitor from Tevinter, some even go so far as to say that he is the hand of the Archon himself, though I believe only the man himself knows for certain." The tight smile on her face melted into a stoic frown as she glanced away from Lucien. It was clear that the lack of information on the man himself frustrated her to some degree.
"He is careful with his words, though nonetheless he is quite popular at court. Charming and charismatic, from what I hear, with an edge of mystery and danger that we all do so thoroughly enjoy," Marceline said, returning her gaze to Lucien, the saccharine smile returning.
"I do know for a fact, however, that this Marcus has had audiences with the Empress herself. It is a small surprise to see him at Chateau Haine, but it is not strange," she added, putting her lips on her goblet. She slowly tipped it back and continued to look into it when it came back down. "If you do find yourself introduced to Lord Marcus, I would humbly ask that you remember us. He is a possible gateway into the Imperium for LĆ©cuyer Vineyards," she added with a coy smile.
"However, before we part ways I would ask a favor of you. A small one."
āAnd what might that be?ā As much as Lucien would have liked to say āanything you need,ā as one was always tempted to with friends, he was quite conscious that Marceline was only his friend in a secondary sense. Before anything else, she was the Comtesse BenoĆ®t, and heād be a fool to forget it. Heād definitely been one of those before, but he liked to think he didnāt make the same kind of mistake twice.
The Lady Marceline lifted up her goblet and inspected it for a moment before finally answering. "If you would allow me to be frank, I would ask that you remain in correspondence with me," she answered, allowing the goblet to dip so that she peered at him over its rim. "I understand that Kirkwall is in a tumultuous period in its history, and I would ask that you keep me informed of its political climate-- if it is agreeable to you as well, Lady Sophia. I would also enjoy updates on your Argent Lions. It does not have to be anything sensitive, only a simple informal overview if it pleases you."
She then took the last drink from her goblet before handing the empty vessel to Michaƫl. "I do not expect to be given such information for free, of course," Lady Marceline added, "In return, I offer to respond in kind with the climate in Orlais," she said with a subtle frown. "I am also positive that both my father and my dear Michaƫl could ascertain the general opinions of the chevaliers, and I would also include them in the letters as well," she added, though the frown remained.
Lucien perhaps could have reminded her that his own father was perhaps in a better position than anyone to speak to the state of the chevaliers, as were other friends he already corresponded with, but he acknowledged that there were other ways in which Marcelineās perspective could be useful. She didnāt hate attending court, for one, which was a rarer quality in his present correspondents. He glanced for a moment to Sophia. āI have rather little involvement in the governance of Kirkwall, and I canāt promise anything terribly detailed on that front, but the rest, I would be happy to share. Shall I direct the letters to the estate on the west banks?ā
Lady Marceline curtseyed in appreciation and replied, "Yes, please. Now, if you will pardon us, I am certain that there are parties that wish to hear the tale of the wyvern hunt, and I fear you may be too busy in your... Obligations to indulge them. Michaƫl, shall we?" She asked, holding her arm out for him to take. Though he did take it, he seemed rather apprehensive about being paraded about by his wife, shooting Lucien a helpless glance as he was led off by his wife.
"Orlesians are... difficult to grow accustomed to," Sophia said quietly, before glancing up at Lucien with a small smile. "But some of them are pleasant enough company."
āI believe weāre an acquired taste,ā Lucien replied, his lip quirking briefly, before his look turned pensive. They had learned a fair amount, but he didnāt think it all added up to anything definite.
Turning back to look at the crowd, Sophia's smile faded, slight apprehension appearing on her features as she thought about what was possibly occurring while they chatted.
"I hope the others are alright."
It was quite reasonably suggested that Ithilian and Rilien be the ones to infiltrate the catacombs and free their ally, as they were easily the stealthiest of the lot. Besides that, a fair amount of attention was bound to fall on the hunting party due to their success. This, Lucien had pointed out, could be to their advantage. They would all find themselves quite popular upon their return, which would give them a chance to ask around, and see if they could figure anything out about the mysterious Tevinter guest, or the Dukeās political stance of late. With luck, they would get some kind of clue that helped them piece together whatever it was that Amalia had figured out.
So it was with at least the bones of a plan that they made it back to the gate, the snow beginning to taper off. Still, it was likely that the party would be moved to the ballroom indoors, where many of the guests had taken shelter from the adverse weather. Once they were inside, they noted that Prosper had arrived, unsuccessful, in advance of them. Their accomplishment was met with an appropriate amount of excitement by Orlesian standards, and it was easy to get swept up into the crowd as they proceeded across the bailey and into the chateau, and similarly easy to slip away from it, in the case of the two elves.
The ballroom was expansive, the food already moved inside, various dignitaries, nobles, and foreign guests milling about the space. The mood of the room picked up when the hunters returned, trophy in hand, and of course the first thing they were bombarded with were dozens of requests to tell the story in all its splendor, as the case may be. Lucien himself chose to indulge a few people thusly, slowly making his way to where he suspected the first cache of useful information would be: in the keeping of MichaĆ«lās dear wife, the Lady Marceline.
Lucien handled the attention far better than Michaƫl, as it turned out. When questioned and asked to regale the story of the hunt, he shuffled his feet and cast his gaze about, appearing more interested in searching for something, or someone, than recounting their recent excursion. He politely directed them toward Lucien instead, and took the opportunity to wander off in search of his wife. It did not take long, as evidenced by the smile stretching from one of Michaƫl's ears to the other his gaze firmly set on the lovely woman in front of him.
Lady Marceline stood at the edge of a banquet table, a goblet of wine in her hand and returning Michaƫl's smile with a small one of her own. In the same way that her husband was clearly a chevalier by the manner in which he carried himself, Lady Marceline was clearly born from noble stock. Hair of dark raven fell in gentle curls past her shoulders, immaculately clean and brushed studded with a pair of crystal blue eyes. The dress that she wore was of a deep purple, with matte black embroidery etching across the fabric. As Michaƫl approached, she reached to his collar with a slender hand and gripped it, pulling the man down and pressed her cherry red lips against his. He allowed himself to be pulled in, and reached around her with his large arms and plucked her off her feet.
Once he placed her back on her feet, Lady Marceline placed a coy hand on Michaƫl's chest and gently pushed away, turning her attention to Lucien. "Ser Lucien," she began in a refined Orlesian accent, "I must express my gratitude in allowing my dear husband to join you and your retinue on the hunt. Not only due to your success, but by merely allowing him to be present, the name 'BenoƮt' is now on the lips of many of our peers. Our popularity is sure to rise as the night continues." Lady Marceline then finished the thought with a polite curtsey. Allowing herself a glance at Michaƫl, Lady Marceline spoke again, "On a more personal note, I must also thank you for bringing my husband back to me safely."
"Again," Michaƫl reminded.
"Again," Lady Marceline conceded.
Lucien offered a smile and a small shake of his head. āYou are, of course, quite welcome, Lady Marceline.ā He couldnāt say heād been thinking overmuch about the BenoĆ®t name, really, and he deeply suspected that MichaĆ«l hadnāt been either. It had just been the kind of thing that it seemed fun to do with an old friend, rather regardless of the danger. But he acknowledged the effect it would have now, of courseāif he really thought about it, he supposed that they would earn points not only for their success, but also because of the fact that MichaĆ«l had accompanied him. It was all enough to make his head spin, but heād get used to thinking this way again, if he let himself.
And he would have to let himself, eventually. Just hopefully not yet. Doing his duty as the party who knew bothāand also, he would admit, with a touch of a besotted manās particular prideāhe introduced Sophia to Marceline, made sure everyone who had a drink wanted one, and allowed those continuing to make the rounds do so around them, body language indicating that he intended to stay and chat a while. He couldnāt imagine that the good lady would protest, after all, and he suspected she might know something about all of this that the rest of them did not.
Lucien didnāt know Marceline as well as he knew MichaĆ«l, of course, but he had been of her acquaintance long enough to understand that she was a particularly shrewd woman. While some maintained their positions mostly with judicious applications of wealth, families without quite enough wealth to do that tended to sink or swim by how judiciously they could apply information. She happened to be very good at it.
āIt has been a while, has it not, since the Dukeās hunt was so well-attended?ā He offered Marceline a small smile, a veiled invitation into an exchange of knowledge. She would understand what he was getting at. āIt doesnāt seem likely that enthusiasm for risking oneās neck stalking wyverns has risen apace.ā Did she know why there were so many people here?
"Had news spread that the Empress's nephew himself would have been in attendance, then I am sure that there would have been many more to arrive in order to catch a glimpse of you. Fortunately, we can have you to ourselves for the time being," Lady Marceline replied with a tight smile. She did not seem to be especially forthcoming in what she had learned. Michaƫl had sensed the discussion for what it was and backed up to stand behind and beside Marceline, instead choosing to nurse his wine glass instead of step between his wife and Lucien.
Marceline took a sip from her own wine glass, and crossed one arm over her body and let the other rest on it, keeping her goblet at lip level at all times. "Speaking of the Empress's nephew, I do so wonder what provoked you to come out of hiding and accept the good Duke's invitation. Are we attempting to acclimatize back into the Game, now that you have been exonerated of your exile?" Lady Marceline said with a subtle tilt of her head, "Or is it, perhaps, something more?" Michaƫl's head dipped and he stared into his wine glass as he swirled it.
It was clear that Lady Marceline was fishing for something, and that she would not reveal what she had heard unless Lucien could give her something in return. A little twist appeared in the corner of her mouth, obviously she was wondering if Lucien had lost any of his tack in his time away from Orlais as well.
āFamilial obligation is a strange thing,ā Lucien replied mildly, taking a sip of his own wine. It wasnāt quite his familyās red, but he did like it. He tried to convince himself he was imagining the hint of bitterness on his tongueāhe could not here be as straightforward as he liked, not even with the people he considered allies. However much he might like and respect Marceline, she was playing a game. The Game, actually. Nothing came for free when that was accounted for. āEven one who seems to avoid it, to hide from it in some darkened corner, cannot avoid it entirely. May not even want to, when push comes to shove. And so here I am.ā
"Indeed," Lady Marceline agreed, letting her eyes fall back on to Michaƫl's face for a moment, and he greeted her with a warm smile and wink. She returned his smile though rolled her eyes and turned back to Lucien. "You should not avoid it, because in the end, all that we are is because of our families," she added, taking a drink of her wine. "Do you like it?" Marceline asked, gesturing toward Lucien's wine glass. "It is our LƩcuyer 9:35 Dragon Vintage. A very good wine by any measure, though it lacks a certain profile that more of our specials possess. The good Duke asked us to supply a few casks for his hunt."
Swirling the wine in his glass, the Lady pulled in in close to her nose and took in the aroma before her attentions returned to Lucien. "Perhaps it is a... Family matter that is the cause of such a draw to the Duke's gathering, and not the wyvern hunt itself?" she began, apparently finding Lucien's own answer sufficient.
"There are many nasty rumors abound, as I am positive you are aware of? From what I have come to understand, the Duke has been spending more and more time away from his estate in Val Royeaux and more in the Free Marches. And many are wondering if a... Lover, is to blame." Lady Marceline said the word with a subtle glance at Sophia, though her smile never faltered. "Perhaps many of the guests are hoping to catch a glimpse of this mystery person?" She said, though by her tone, she didn't place much stock in the rumor herself.
She paused for a moment to take a drink from her goblet, tossing her gaze about as she drank as if she was searching for someone. "Have you had the pleasure of meeting the Duke's guest from Tevinter? An interesting man, this Lord Marcus, to be sure, though I have unfortunately not had the good fortunes of meeting him face to face. There have also been rumors stemming from his presence, of course mostly from the mouths of young women, as you must understand. They say he is looking to take an Orlesian wife."
Turning and placing a gentle hand on Michaƫl's face, Marceline finished, "Personally, I prefer that my men have a little more heart." Michaƫl grinned at the compliment and took Marceline's hand in his own, and placed a kiss on the back of it.
This was all news to Lucien. His father hadnāt mentioned these rumors of a paramour to him, likely because he thought them irrelevant, or else because they were so commonplace that Guy trusted he would hear them anyway. Though from the way she sounded, Marceline didnāt put much stock in them, either, which was perhaps understandable. There were many reasons a person could come to prefer spending time away from the capitalāit didnāt have to be something as sensational as an affair. Not that affairs were usually sensational in Orlaisāthe amount of attention they received depended mostly on the identity of the parties involved. But still, it was probably the most sensational of the reasonable options.
Lucien mulled it over for a bit, staring quite intently into his wine glass. āIām afraid Iāve not met him, either,ā Lucien said truthfully, though how regretful he was about the fact was up for debate. He could see where a Magister near the Empressās court could be a much more interesting topic for discussion, and no doubt the rumors floating around about his intentions were numerous. āIs he a friend of the Dukeās? Iād like to know who to ask for an introduction.ā Also true, but more because he was interested in knowing who Marcusās friends in the crowd were than because he really wanted to meet him as such.
Lady Marceline frowned and shook her head, "Not particularly as such, from what I understand. He is a diplomatic visitor from Tevinter, some even go so far as to say that he is the hand of the Archon himself, though I believe only the man himself knows for certain." The tight smile on her face melted into a stoic frown as she glanced away from Lucien. It was clear that the lack of information on the man himself frustrated her to some degree.
"He is careful with his words, though nonetheless he is quite popular at court. Charming and charismatic, from what I hear, with an edge of mystery and danger that we all do so thoroughly enjoy," Marceline said, returning her gaze to Lucien, the saccharine smile returning.
"I do know for a fact, however, that this Marcus has had audiences with the Empress herself. It is a small surprise to see him at Chateau Haine, but it is not strange," she added, putting her lips on her goblet. She slowly tipped it back and continued to look into it when it came back down. "If you do find yourself introduced to Lord Marcus, I would humbly ask that you remember us. He is a possible gateway into the Imperium for LĆ©cuyer Vineyards," she added with a coy smile.
"However, before we part ways I would ask a favor of you. A small one."
āAnd what might that be?ā As much as Lucien would have liked to say āanything you need,ā as one was always tempted to with friends, he was quite conscious that Marceline was only his friend in a secondary sense. Before anything else, she was the Comtesse BenoĆ®t, and heād be a fool to forget it. Heād definitely been one of those before, but he liked to think he didnāt make the same kind of mistake twice.
The Lady Marceline lifted up her goblet and inspected it for a moment before finally answering. "If you would allow me to be frank, I would ask that you remain in correspondence with me," she answered, allowing the goblet to dip so that she peered at him over its rim. "I understand that Kirkwall is in a tumultuous period in its history, and I would ask that you keep me informed of its political climate-- if it is agreeable to you as well, Lady Sophia. I would also enjoy updates on your Argent Lions. It does not have to be anything sensitive, only a simple informal overview if it pleases you."
She then took the last drink from her goblet before handing the empty vessel to Michaƫl. "I do not expect to be given such information for free, of course," Lady Marceline added, "In return, I offer to respond in kind with the climate in Orlais," she said with a subtle frown. "I am also positive that both my father and my dear Michaƫl could ascertain the general opinions of the chevaliers, and I would also include them in the letters as well," she added, though the frown remained.
Lucien perhaps could have reminded her that his own father was perhaps in a better position than anyone to speak to the state of the chevaliers, as were other friends he already corresponded with, but he acknowledged that there were other ways in which Marcelineās perspective could be useful. She didnāt hate attending court, for one, which was a rarer quality in his present correspondents. He glanced for a moment to Sophia. āI have rather little involvement in the governance of Kirkwall, and I canāt promise anything terribly detailed on that front, but the rest, I would be happy to share. Shall I direct the letters to the estate on the west banks?ā
Lady Marceline curtseyed in appreciation and replied, "Yes, please. Now, if you will pardon us, I am certain that there are parties that wish to hear the tale of the wyvern hunt, and I fear you may be too busy in your... Obligations to indulge them. Michaƫl, shall we?" She asked, holding her arm out for him to take. Though he did take it, he seemed rather apprehensive about being paraded about by his wife, shooting Lucien a helpless glance as he was led off by his wife.
"Orlesians are... difficult to grow accustomed to," Sophia said quietly, before glancing up at Lucien with a small smile. "But some of them are pleasant enough company."
āI believe weāre an acquired taste,ā Lucien replied, his lip quirking briefly, before his look turned pensive. They had learned a fair amount, but he didnāt think it all added up to anything definite.
Turning back to look at the crowd, Sophia's smile faded, slight apprehension appearing on her features as she thought about what was possibly occurring while they chatted.
"I hope the others are alright."