AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#F0A804 | Outfit

ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit

ROSALYN GRAYSON
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King's Bastard | The Red Rose
#660033 | [url]Outfit[/url]

SERAPHINA GRAYSON
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Eldest True Grayson | The Sweet Pea
#C19A6B | [url]Outfit[/url]

SYLVA THORNE
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Sylas' Twin | The Cobra
#583668 | [url]Outfit[/url]

Seraphina almost snorted when Avery said, “I agree.” Of course he would. He seemed too kind to turn any ladies words down. She pondered this as he continued. “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.”

Seraphina almost sighed. While what he was saying could be seen as quite noble, she couldn’t follow his words. Seraphina wasn't here seeking love, she was seeking power and would do anything to get it. The soon-to-be-King was going to be hers, he had to be. Seraphina had spent too much of her life wedged between Rosalyn’s shadow and Aurora’s childishness. Rhaegar would be her husband, and she would crush any girl in her way.

Before she could say anything else to the man, the music queued them to change partners. Avery dropped into a bow. “Have a good evening, Lady Seraphina. If there is love here, I do hope you find it in one of these suitors.” She sighed and mentally rolled her eyes. Would there be anyone here that understood love wasn't worth it?

Next to be her partner was none other than the future King’s brother. He was rather handsome too, especially that she saw him up close. She wondered briefly if sharing a bed with him would ruin her plans to wed his brother and decided to think about it at a more opportune time. “My lady Seraphina, you are without a doubt stunning this evening.” He said as he bowed to her and kissed her hand.

Seraphina smiled softly and curtsied as any lady should. “Prince Castillon, what a pleasure… Though from the looks of that fake smile, you are having just as much fun as I am.” She chuckled. “Appearances are quite a hinderance. Especially in front of family.” She teased lightly and got into the position to dance with him.

---

Sylva avoided being stepped on by the pirate-boy’s clumsiness while listening to him talk. “It’s a myth that we never walk on land, and not a very intelligent one at that. After all, one cannot always look after an entire island from afar.”

Sylva sighed and looked at him with her cold face. “I pity the land you walk upon. Maybe one day you will do the earth a favour and stop walking entirely.”

Whether he heard her or not didnt matter because what he said next made her livid. ”But your lot would know plenty about myths, right?” He grinned at her, knowing well that he was touching upon a forbidden topic. She made sure to keep her appearance in check, making it known that what he said didnt affect her, but when she spoke her voice was as sharp as the most fearsome sword.

“I would hold your tongue, pirate, else wise you may wake up one morning to find that it has gone missing.” She hissed. The music changed and it was time to change partners. Sylva laughed softly and gave him a big, pleasant smile before changing to the next partner. She looked over at Sylas, hopping to catch his eyes. She knew that if he could just see her, he would know something was wrong. They had that kind of connection. She would have to tell him about the threat later on. For now, she was concerned with the new oaf in front of her.

“Good evening, Lady Sylva. You look very beautiful tonight. I do hope you are enjoying the dancing thus far?” he asked her innocently. His hands were rough from farming and the texture was much different from her brothers. Until the ball, she hadn’t truly been around, or touched, this many men. It was odd finding differences in the men. Lord Avery, the man before her, was the complete opposite of her brother. Light haired, kind face, pleasant demeanour.

It disgusted her, yet she tried to keep her appearances as best as she could. Causing problems for her brother and making more enemies would get them nowhere.

“Thank you, Lord Avery. You also look… quite fetching.” She said and curtsied before beginning to dance with him. She had nothing in common with this boy, so it would be quite interesting to see what small talk he would come up with.

---

When Rosalyn had been brought to the castle, she really hadn’t expected herself to be having any fun or making any friends. Of course, she couldn’t say if she truly considered Jonah a friend, but he certainly was fun at the very least.

”The best advice I've ever receive tumbled from the lips of a woman, I trust her words more than my own." He said. Rosalyn hummed in curiosity, wondering what kind of woman would give him advice. He seemed like quite the flirt, and thus she knew that the woman he talked about could be anywhere in the world.

"I will say, though, My Lady, A mysterious woman such as yourself, tend to arouse curiosity. Though your advice is sound, I'm sure, you should know it will be very difficult to heed. Especially when the mystery dances just out of my reach.” He said, and Rosalyn found herself laughing again at how ridiculous he was. She could only hope that other people were half as interesting as he was. If so, things might become more interesting. She was about to say something when he pulled her closer to him, gently resting against his chest. Most girls would gasp and blush, but Rosalyn just found herself laughing. What an interesting man. "It would make any man risk an arrow to solve it.”

With that, the song ended and Jonah swept back from his hold on her, bowing and kissing her hand. ”We should hunt together, I imagine it would be great fun, I will be sure to wear my armor, should there be any stray arrows flying my way." He said and spun her out of his arms and into the next man in line. Rosalyn laughed and watched him strutting away. Well, if anything, she had found herself a hunting partner. She wondered how long that would last though, when her plans unravelled.

Next in line to dance with her was a boy with some of the longest hair in the room. He looked as though he was a tad younger than her and she recognized him as Elliot Thatcher. “Ah, Lady Rosalyn, it is an honor,” He started and gave her a low bow as he took her hand in his own. He kissed her skin and smiled brightly at her.

“My lady, forgive me if I am being rude but it is not often to see a woman so well-trained with a weapon. 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.” He said, and Rosalyn realized he must have also felt her rough fingers. She dwelled on his words for a moment; why had she learned to shoot a bow? Desire or necessity? At first, it had been necessity. She needed to learn how to defend herself. The desire came soon after she realized she had an aptitude for the bow and rather enjoyed it. Of course, these were things she could not tell him.

“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.” She said as she curtsied and began to dance with him. “What about me says that I would know how to wield a weapon? I am just an innocent lady of course.”

---

Aurora was pondering whether what she had said was too odd for Frederick to handle, as it wouldn't be the first time her words had confused and turned those away from her. Most men, or really people in general, find her a bit weird. She could understand why; even she knew that she had a unique way of being. Nevertheless, she was pleasantly surprised when the man almost agreed with her.

"Not at all, in a sense it is true.” He said, ”I suppose it depends on the person, and why they're drinking." Aurora nodded. She supposed she would try drinking sometime, maybe even that summer. It would be an interesting experience to say the least.

The music slowly faded, thus marking the end of their dance. "It would appear our time has come to an end, ’tis a shame, I was rather enjoying the discussion." He said and bowed, letting go of her. She had found it rather enjoyable too. "It was a pleasure to have danced with you, lady Aurora, hopefully we shall see more of each other over the Summer.” Aurora smiled and curtsied. He was very kind, it seemed. She wouldn’t mind speaking to him more. He seemed to have experienced things she would find interesting to learn about.

Her next partner was her sisters previous one; Jonathan Allyrion. Tall, dark, handsome. He was sure to sweep someone off their feet, and with one look to her sister’s unusually cheery eyes, Aurora knew this man was one of the good ones. It took a miracle to actually make her older sister cheer up. She watched his face as he peered past her at first, looking over at the Princess, and Aurora giggled softly. She could see right through him, to the butterflies flying around in his stomach. A few moments later he seemed to snap out of his dreamy state and focus on her.

"My lady, Aurora.” The man said as he came up to her, clearing his head from his prior thoughts. He bowed and kissed her hand softly. “Such a fitting name, It reminds me of the lights that dance in the sky in the North. Might I have this dance?”

Aurora nodded to him and rested her hands in the right places. “Of course you may, Lord Jonah.” He was much taller than her, and lankier than most men, so it felt rather funny to her that she would dance with him. It was like a small fairy was dancing with a giant. Instead of telling this to him, she focused on his prior comment.

“My Father once told me that I was named after the night skies lights. He said that my Mother wanted me to be just as bright and beautiful as them one day… So they named me after it.” She grinned. “I have never seen the lights myself though, as I rarely left the Riverlands.”

They spun around to the music and Aurora looked at him curiously, “I must ask, Lord Jonah. Why did you not go to her? I am not the one you want to be dancing with right now. I can tell, I’m very perceptive.” She said bluntly. “The Princess is very beautiful, but that should not deter you or make you nervous. If you are smart enough to make even my older sister laugh, you can make the Princess smile as well.”

---

The subtle harshness in the words dug deep. But he keep the smile upon his face and let his hand finally rest upon hers. His gaze fell as he hesitated before speaking in a hushed tone. ”Would it be too forward of me to say because I missed you terribly?”

He finally looked back up and met that gaze of hers that made him fall in love those many years ago. Magnus made sure to do nothing to draw attention their way, he didn’t want scandal or to disgrace Elizabeth. ”I know I shouldn’t speak of such things,” he concluded as he continued to lead her about the ballroom.

Magnus remained silent for a long while until they stood on the far end of the room where no one lingered and their voices could not travel. He kept his gaze forward, fixated on his children’s merriment but he spoke towards her, his hand lightly grasping hers tighter. ”I’d be lying if I said my heart did not yearn for you every waking moment since the day you left.”

Elizabeth felt like she was on the verge of fainting due to the anxiety. Why had this man decided to do this to her? She had just hoped to quietly co-exist with him during the summer, never getting close enough to even talk. With their past, it was dangerous for them to even be speaking to one another, much less walking together arm-in-arm. What could he want from her?

”Would it be too forward of me to say because I missed you terribly?” Magnus said. Elizabeth’s legs felt terribly weak in that moment and she had to stop herself from tumbling down as they walked. Those words hit her heart deep. It felt like old scars on her heart were being reopened. Their eyes met, and for a moment she saw him as he was when they were young and in love. He still had those same eyes.

”I know I shouldn’t speak of such things,” He said to her after her long silence, and he slowly lead her to a more quiet corner of the room where they could speak and not draw any attention to themselves. They watched their children spinning around the room with their partners. It all reminded her of when she had spent her own time in the castle. She had been so young and gullible.

”I’d be lying if I said my heart did not yearn for you every waking moment since the day you left.” His warm hand was on hers, gripping her tighter, and Elizabeth felt her knees shake beneath her dress. She was a strong woman when it came to most foes or enemies, but this man had a way of unhinging her with just a single glance.

Tears threatened to spring forth, just as her emotions that had been so well kept all of the years were unlocked and came pouring out. Elizabeth spoke so quietly, it was barely a whisper and she wasn’t sure if he would hear her. “You know it was not I that left you…”

They had been in love. So deeply in love. Elizabeth had thought her and Magnus would be together for ever and have the type of life that you only heard in stories. He would be a great ruler, and she would be beside him helping him through all the hardships. It would have been perfect, if it had not been ruined.

JONAH ALLYRION
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Eldest Child | The Winter's Wolf
#E80000 | Outfit

Lady Aurora was adorably little. Jonah noted, as she nodded. Her very present reminded him of his sister. He felt much too big, the urge to look after her was overwhelming. Yes, he would not be flirting with this one, it would be like flirting with his sister. “Of course you may, Lord Jonah.” He took her hand with a smile and led her to the floor.

“My Father once told me that I was named after the night skies lights. He said that my Mother wanted me to be just as bright and beautiful as them one day… So they named me after it.” She said with a grin. “I have never seen the lights myself, though, as I rarely left the Riverlands.” She said and Jonah was about to speak on that when she wore a curious expression, gazing up at him. Poor thing had to crane her neck to look him in the eye, he wanted to lift her on his feet, to stop the straining.

“I must ask, Lord Jonah. Why did you not go to her? I am not the one you want to be dancing with right now. I can tell, I’m very perceptive,” She said plainly and Jonah's dark brow rose to his forehead. "I see,"Jonah replied. “The Princess is very beautiful, but that should not deter you or make you nervous. If you are smart enough to make even my older sister laugh, you can make the Princess smile as well.” To his Jonah laughed. Yes, much like his sister. They were the younger, not much was expected of them, so they could speak their mind as they well pleased, or at least in Clara's case when Mother wasn't around. He looked down at her with a smile. He could say something flirty but no, not with her. He wanted her to smile, nothing else and a lie hidden behind a flirt would not do, as she said, she was perceptive.
"You should meet my sister, I believe you to would get on quite nicely." he commented. "You are right, she makes me nervous, but it is not her pretty face, if it were, I would have been nervous to speak to you as well."
Alright, so he wouldn't flirt too much. "Truthfully, My lady, my nerves are well..." He paused, he didn't like speaking this allowed but he appreciated her willingness to speak her mind, and that should be rewarded with the truth. "My true name was a gift to the King, a thank you for gifting my father a lordship when he'd been nothing more than a stable hand before the war. My father promised that he would name his firstborn son, the heir to the keep after the man that gave it to him." He said and his eyes found his father for a moment. "So my name is Magnus Jonah Allyrion." He said and smiled. "So you can imagine why I am nervous to dance with the woman whose father I am named after." He said and had the feeling she would ask why he went by Jonah and not such a powerful name. His sister would have. "This part is a secret of mine, but I go by Jonah because I have yet earned my true name. I will one day, but not as of yet." He told her with a smile. "Can you keep that between us?" He asked. "And perhaps one day, I can show you your namesake."

Meanwhile, Clara watched Lord Fredrick as he chuckled. "I guess, I'm just so unremarkable."He said and for a moment she missed the jest. "Especially if such a beauty doesn't notice me... Perhaps I should become a thief." He said and she pursed her lips in a pout. He bowed to her and she smiled a little. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Clara." He said and she nodded. "The pleasure is all mine, Lord Fredrick." She said with a curtsey and allowed him to lead her to the floor. "So, My Lord Unremarkable," She began, knowing her mother would not be pleased with her being the one to start the conversation but she couldn't resist the urge to tease him back. She knew coyness was a game that women often played, she needed to try her hand at it, besides, it would be much too easy if she did play things this way. "What do you like to do?" she asked with a smile. "Outside of teasing innocent girls?"

MARYNN DAVERNY
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Only Daughter | The Quarter Master
#567580 | Outfit

BENJY DAVERNY
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Youngest Child | The First Mate
#5BA664 | Outfit

---

“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.

“Greetings my lady,” the swashbuckler said with a bow and warming smile, to which Lara returned with a shy dip of her head, a curtsy and a mumbled, "My lord." If he was being careful she would never have noticed, she was too painfully aware of how she was looking at him that she was trying to make a point of not looking. But it couldn't be helped, there were certain things about the man in front of her that her eyes kept flitting back to. He was blessed with a face and charm that made her flustered, or maybe the beat of her heart was simply a reflection of how excited she was to dance with someone whose life was so bizarrely different to hers. Either way, if anyone were to ask her to describe the youngest Daverny the day after, the reply would be "He had brown hair and a hat." An odd response, considering how her curious mind usually documented paragraphs of information on the appearance and demeanor of everyone she noted as important. The meaning behind it? Well, maybe the details past "handsome" and "pirate" were not so important to her at the time, but that's all that can be said on that for now. “Is there anything you wish to speak of my lady?”

Lara's eyes immediately flicked up from his boots to meet his, already nearly bursting with questions. She let a short, nervous laugh out from under her breath as she placed her embarrassingly rough hand on his to begin the promenade.

“Well,” she began and coughed lightly into the shoulder facing away from him, “Well, there's only one interesting thing to speak of. How are you?” She quipped as they came out of the promenade and faced each other, tilting her head up to look at him. No sooner as the words left her mouth she visibly cringed, but the smile did not leave her. In fact, her cheeks were feeling noticeably warmer. Perhaps... she really shouldn't have downed that red wine so quickly beforehand.

“In truth, my parents have instructed me to be cold towards you,” she continued, hurriedly giving a lame excuse for how improperly she was behaving, though she didn't suppose he really cared for what was “proper” like most courtly folk. At that thought she tossed her head to search for her mother, and upon seeing her tight lips and popping eyes, gestured with her head for her dance partner to take a look. She was a little scared of the way Lady Beatrice was looking at her, and perhaps it showed, just a little bit. “This may be the only time I speak to you. Fortunately the Queen demands that tonight we dance, so, I want to use this wisely. This may be something quite dull for you, and something that many, many others will ask you but -” Lara's nervous ramblings came to a sudden halt as she paused then looked away from her mother's piercing gaze to him, her eyes narrowing. “Can you tell me a story?”

“A pirate one, specifically!” She blurted a bit too loudly, trying to redeem herself after sounding so pathetically childish, then she took up her ramblings once more, “A true story, ideally, but I don't mind if you stretch it. Something with storms, gold, women, celebration, blood – I want to hear all of it. Do you... have anything like that?” She asked, with the complete assumption that he did. Lara took the chance to breath as she twirled then gave him a cheeky, lopsided grin. “If nothing comes to mind, make it up.”

RHAEGAR CASTILLON
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Heir to Blackvale | The Falcon
#B70909 | Outfit

BROM CASTILLON
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Prince | The Peacock
#061B62 | Outfit

SYLAS THORNE
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Heir to Dark Wood | The Viper
#999999 | Outfit

MARYNN DAVERNY
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Only Daughter | The Quarter Master
#567580 | Outfit

BENJY DAVERNY
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Youngest Child | The First Mate
#5BA664 | Outfit

---

"Well, just Howell," He broke into a grin, glad that she did not take unkindly to his informality. It may have not been the proper way of introduction after all but it was the one that spoke the truest. ""You may call me Gwendolynn if you'd like, or Gwen... As long as my mother isn't around to scold me for being so informal." Howell simply couldn’t help from laughing, imaging his own sister and mother, the parallels were striking.

“Gwen it is then.” He could admit that, he was not finding this situation unfavorable in any way.Princess or not, Gwen had an air about her that spoke to Howell. A beauty, but also a note of rebellion that he could hear in her words and in the way her eyes shone. She is, for all the constant and angry rants from his parents about the royal family, nothing like what he imagined. A refreshing relief, when he had grown up with the notion that they were horrid people.

""I suppose I'm enjoying it as much as I can when I'm being forced to choose my future husband from a pool of pre-chosen suitors." That was fair, Howell had no such desires to be forced into something that did not come from his own heart, his inclinations to form bonds alone had been enough to keep him from falling into the same pit of annoyance that his siblings had. And, while he’s here, if there is something of true love – as impossibly naïve as that sounds, he wouldn’t entirely mind it. ""No offense... It's not personal. I just don't do well with the idea of arranged marriages, or rules... or really anything related to being a Princess."

“No offense taken, it does seem rather awful – well, in some ways of course. I can’t be a pirate and pretend I don’t envy the crown.” It was in their blood after all, “But the rules that come along with it, the formalities, the grand gestures.” Things like this ball, and the fact that the royal children were to be married off without much of a say, “Just…awful.” He repeated, hoping he didn’t come off as rude. He rather liked this easy conversation and wished for it to not turn sour by the slip of his tongue.

Howell continued on the lead the dance, a bit worried for her short silence but soon enough their easy speak continued on. ""That is a surprise. I wouldn't mind something exciting happening... Anything that gets me out of this corset sooner," Howell wouldn’t have minded either, though it would be a shame to interrupt a conversation that is going so well. ""But, how are you enjoying the Vale? I'm sure it's quite different compared to what you're used to on the water. I've never been on a ship or seen the ocean... The closest I've been is when my brothers and I would sneak out of the Keep at night to play in the fountains in the garden."

“The Vale is grand,” Howell let his smile slip into something akin rueful, “It’s certainly different from what I’ve become accustomed to. Life on the Ocean is rough, and here it seems the most I’ve had to deal with so far is the scornful stares of those around us – “ He couldn’t pretend that he had not seen some of the more nervous or angered glances thrown towards him and his family. Though, they had been here for quite some time yet and still nothing out of the sorts had become of the ballroom. No stolen or broken goods, no random fights breaking out in the middle of the floor. Things that people often came to expect from a pirate – what honestly, Howell had almost expected at least from Benjy. Though his siblings were doing remarkably well not to create a hassle.

---

Marynn could see why people were drawn to the Prince in the same way that she could see why people were drawn to just about anyone with a sense of kindness. She was glad, in the least that he helped her to keep up with the dance, her legs already burnt out from the repetitive steps – this dance would last forever, it felt like. She would only be grateful for the amenities provided when a bed came within her sight. She sighed and listened without her usual scorn.

" "My mother made Brom, Gwen and I practice this dance before every meal since winter. 'You must be perfect' she'd tell us." To Marynn it sounds like hell, but honestly, her own mother wasn’t far off from expecting perfection from her children – and upon not being given it she would stomp and rage all the while Marynn grew more resentful. A vicious cycle. One that she is glad is shared by more than just herself. "I've done it so much that I could do it with my eyes closed. I was tired of it before the music started." She had to laugh at that, the feeling mutual despite never having dealt with this dance before. The music was nothing like the loud tone-deaf singing one would hear from the crew or in the shanties where women would dance in a circle while cheaply made instruments created upbeat sounds to accompany them.

"You remind me of my sister. I do believe you both would get along quite well. She tried to convince me to wear the corset and dress on multiple occasions." Marynn could almost imagine how amusing that would be. But furthermore, she couldn’t help her mild surprise from showing. One eyebrow quirked as she thought about it – someone like her getting along with the Princess of the Vale. Perhaps. But there were enough differences between them to make her doubt.

“I’d love to see that,” Marynn chose to mumble instead, honestly teasing though she couldn’t be sure if she had spoken loud enough to be heard.

“At least you still are you, even if you have to wear a ridiculous dress." At least someone could see the reasoning behind her adornments. Preferring to keep true to herself, instead of following the stuffy rules placed together by this event and by her mother’s constant sharp words.


A moment after her final words she almost felt bad for saying anything at all, wondering if she had crossed the line – but it quickly dissipated as she returned to her default expression. Guarded and unsure. "I'd be lying if I said I enjoy it." The gravity of the room seemed to drag both of them down as he continued on, Marynn listened, silent and attentive though somewhat drifting. “I do feel bad though. It is my fault... I kept disappearing whenever my parents tried to marry me off. I just wished they would have kept Brom and Gwen out of this. They deserve happiness, not to be forced to choose from a pool of suitors." She nodded, pursed her lips. She isn’t so sure his own guilt is worthy of being the foundation of this event, her observance of the situation leaning towards the idea that whether he had dodged suitors or not the Royal children were going to eventually wind up married off.

He gave a halfhearted chuckle with a slight smile and Marynn knew at last that she had not offended him greatly by her blunt words. "But not everyone here seems bloodthirsty for my hand. I much like your bluntness and honesty. It's hard to find authentic people in court."

She laughed again, turning her gaze to the rest of the room. “That’s odd,” She didn’t often have people saying they liked her for the way she spoke without care. Rudeness was something she came by naturally, and the snappish way she sometimes acted went hand in hand. Even her own family often found her more tolerable when she kept quiet. Though, that usually resulted in her anger flaring twice as bright.

“Finding authentic people anywhere these days is near impossible,” She sighed, turned back towards him as the dance continued. Focusing less on the faces around her and rather on the one in front of her. “But,” She paused, considering. “I’m happy to be one of them, I’d hate to act the way some of the ladies here do – that just simply isn’t who I aim to be.” Formal attire, dances, things like this were as far from the reality she grew up in as possible. Etiquette may have been taught to her in a roundabout rough manner, but she had no will to become as stuffy as some of the nobles here, especially the ones who sought the crown as if they would die were they to not attain it. That, to her, seemed to be one of the more pathetic facets of this soiree.

“It must be dreadful,” She spoke, “I don’t pity the women who think having the crown is all they need in their life. You seem like a good man, genuine. You shouldn’t have to deal with snakes. But, it is the unfortunate truth that everyone here must face. None of us are going to leave here at the end of it unscathed.”

“And that’s a horribly sad – “ annoying, angering, devastating ”Fact.”
She realized that she was complaining, perhaps a bit too much. Felt no need to further drag the mood of the dance down. Placed her best smile, more genuine than not with her feelings on the matter out in the open.

“I fear we’ve gotten onto quite a heavy topic.” Typical of her, something she would need to work on if she wanted to get out of this season with her head still intact. She shouldn’t wallow, not even when she has to be resigned to the event. Things weren’t as bad as they could be, and thus far things had not gone awry in the way she imagined. She should be happy for that instead of angry still about being here.

---

Things had already begun far better than they had with the wicked Lady Thorne. Benjy found Lara cute, in a sort of meek way. Not as stiff as most people here, and certainly far more open to talking to him than he expected. “Well, there's only one interesting thing to speak of. How are you?” He hadn’t expected her clear interest, but it was nice all the same. He smirked, felt more confident that he could make nice with this young lady.

“I am well,” He spoke before she continued on. The dance went far smoother with her, less of a duel between two unwilling partners like before, and far more of an easy sway and dip that many of the others here were experiencing. The curiosity in her gaze did not leave him, and he could tell that look anywhere.


“In truth, my parents have instructed me to be cold towards you,” Unsurprising to say the least, there would be few here who cared to see their child speaking with one of the more notorious of the pirate siblings. Benjy alone had his reputation as a drunkard and womanizer within his own home and perhaps even here in a way, and maybe that gossip hadn’t reached every ear in the kingdom but his family and their own dastardly reputation is enough to keep most people from looking at him with the same interest that Lara shows. He can’t help but soften his smile, understanding in his eyes.

“Ah, yes, well that may be the case for many others here. I do not blame you for the fact.”

“This may be the only time I speak to you. Fortunately, the Queen demands that tonight we dance, so, I want to use this wisely. This may be something quite dull for you, and something that many, many others will ask you but -” He could almost tell where this was going, something that he would no doubt deal with multiple times, but, for the moment she was the first. Her rambling endearing in a way, sweeter than what he’s used to. Benjy almost feels bad for sweeping his gaze over her appreciatively, but, he wouldn’t be himself if he hadn’t done so at least once or twice over the course of the dance.

“Can you tell me a story?” There. The thing that he had been waiting for. He wouldn’t deny her, but before he could open his mouth she spoke on.


“A pirate one, specifically! A true story, ideally, but I don't mind if you stretch it. Something with storms, gold, women, celebration, blood – I want to hear all of it. Do you... have anything like that?” She had hit all the normal caveats, the things that were present in his life constantly though perhaps not all at the same time. He smiled and nodded. “I think I have a few tales for you, M’lady.” Embellishments would, of course, have to be made, but, that’s what she was asking for anyhow. He prided himself on being a particularly good yarn weaver. And there weren’t many stories he could tell that were bland, to begin with. Life as a pirate could be summed up in a single word; adventure.

But in the sacrifices, it took for his parents to keep their noble status (and not be incriminated for refusal) things had slowed down considerably. Most of their adventures were devoid of treasure hunts and stealing from merchant ships. They controlled most of those now, for the Vale. Which meant they had a higher amount of off-limit ships to contend with. The few they were “allowed” (A word his father curled his lip at when his mother would speak of their duties) to topple were usually small with crews of inexperienced men and women who were more than likely seeking to escape their old lives. Criminals, in some cases who had nothing but the clothes on their back. They were, however, the ones that fought the hardest and shed the most blood.

No, the action generally happened in the Misty Isles these days. With thieves and killers alike stalking the shanties. There was, however, one, a distant memory of his induction into the crew. A man at last, and training under his sister's harsh regiment alongside other new crew members. They were given reign of a secondary ship for some time as their father and mother went on leave for some reason or another – and that, well, that was where he would begin.

“My siblings and I have had to live under the rules of the Crown for far longer than my parents, they truly were allowed to see the glory days of pirating – “ He smiled softly, “These days, so long as we don’t bother the Vale we’ve got free run.” A half-truth, but still not quite a lie. Their mother was half the issue when it came to their old lives. Something had happened to the fearless pirate Elena had once been. A pity.

“Once, when I was a young lad, my sister and myself were placed upon another ship – just for a short time while Mother and Father were dealing with the more Noble side of things, likely at the Vales ports.” He had never cared to ask. Curled his lip at the very thought of it at all. “We were meant to be surveying the ocean, ensuring no trespassers came near –“ And that nobody left either, though he didn’t say that aloud. Not many people knew how far under the Daverny’s thumb the people of the Misty Isles were. “It was routine, so boring that we could do it in our sleep. But it didn’t stay that way for long, of course, dusk had begun to fall when one of the Riggers called down from the spars, he had spotted a distant ship on the horizon. A Brigantine, slightly larger than the Sloop we were on. They’re generally more fit as merchant ships.

There’s a sort of…code of honor out on the Ocean, but when young pirates are involved it usually gets swept under the rug. Whether the Brigantine was Vale or not we were more than ready to chuck the rules in order to have a little fun – and, it would certainly be an impressive tale to tell, a little Sloop manned by a crew as young as ours taking down a Merchant ship.” He chuckled, the memories flooding back. Their crew had certainly been far more capable than what he painted them as, but where would the fun be if he had told her how very easy it would be to take down another ship, even with their smaller crew.

“Sloops are fast ships, capable of turning on a word. The crew had been reluctant, knowing the trouble we’d have if the ship were from the Vale but neither I nor Marynn cared. The rush of it kept us going. She commanded our Shiphands to get us as close to the broadside of the vessel as possible, if they didn’t stand down for a docking we’d fight our way on – and oh, fight we did.” The battle had been rough, the crew of the other ship outnumbered them. But where they had numbers, the Davernys had power. Besides, Merchants often backed down once a few of them were skewered. He related this to Lara, every gory detail slipping from his tongue as they danced.

“We had the crew cowering before us soon enough, their captain at our mercy, half of their fighters fighting the blood loss and the other half already gone to the gods above. The ship as it turned out was an independent, looking to trade with the Isles, they seemed to be unaware that we were more likely to simply take their cargo altogether.” He couldn’t even begin to wonder what they were thinking, coming into pirate-infested waters with the intent to trade – honestly, it was a foolish choice on their part.

“We took our pick of the able bodied crew for servitude and stranded the rest along one of the smaller islands out on the ocean. It's unlikely they survived, lest they were crafty enough. We took their goods, gold and all, and later on after returning to the isles threw a grand party in celebration of what we had done with the very gold we had taken from them.” He explained to her the way they would all gather together round fires, while women danced and people sang merrily, Rum passed around and around till even the hardiest of them became too weary to continue on.

Benjy himself never seemed to tire during such festivities, took his time wooing the women and would always eventually wake up back at the ship, with a lovely lady or two on his arms while either a sibling or a parent towered over, looking down at him in amusement or anger. On that following day, it had been the latter.

Lady Elena had caught wind of their transgression first. “Mother ranted for days, asking us what we’d have done if we had begun a war with the Vale. I didn’t much care, not when the buzz of the fight still rung in my ears. Our father had been proud though.” Benjy sighs, “that had been enough. Well. And hearing the story of it passing from ear to ear. Each iteration more grand than the other.”

The story had come to pass, but he had much more to tell. He didn’t want to deprive her of the only chance she would get to ask, or hear of them. So he continued, each getting more and more elaborate. Though they had such a limited time he tried to keep the stories short, though he refused to skimp on the violence and glory of them.

He hoped that she was enjoying herself, for what little time they had to speak.

“I know that you’ve been told to do otherwise,” Benjy began, in the lull of silence that accompanied his final words. “But I do hope we get to speak some more some time.”

RHAEGAR CASTILLON
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Heir to Blackvale | The Falcon
#B70909 | Outfit

BROM CASTILLON
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Prince | The Peacock
#061B62 | Outfit

SYLAS THORNE
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Heir to Dark Wood | The Viper
#999999 | Outfit

JONAH ALLYRION
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Eldest Child | The Winter's Wolf
#E80000 | Outfit

Darkness fell upon the room with the suddenness of a lightning strike. Clara gasped, grabbing ahold of Lord Fredrick as candle smoke wafted through the room. She closed her eyes a long moment, before opening, allowing her naturally dark attuned eyes to adjust. She could see as clear as day while the others seemed to need a moment. The other not including her brother, who adjusted much more quickly than she had. She turned to her dance partner "What is happening?" She asked with a frown, just before a stillness fell over the room that was in equal parts unsettling and familiar. The sensation danced a shiver up her spine. Lord Fre-" Now sooner had she spoke, did a man, clad in black appear before her and behind him. She gasped causing Lord Frederick to turn. He pushed her behind him, still needing to adjust to the sudden darkness. So much so that he didn't see the blade that sung as the hooded man pulls from his sheath, clearly enough to do much of anything before the man slide it across his throat. Clara screamed as Fredrick grabbed his throat, a cascade of crimson flowing between his fingers. He tettered before collapsing on his knees. Clara went down with him, unsure of what to do beyond hold his hand there as if that would be enough to staunch the bleeding.

It was a momentary lapse but she forgot all about the man that did this, and she looked up at him, as he eyed her, as if deciding what to do with her. She stiffened and held close to the dying man in her arms as the assailant reached up with his blade, prepared to strike. Her eyes closed but nothing came but a sharp snap. Clara jumped looking up to see the man down and her father standing over her, "Father!" she cried, tears falling down her face, while Lord Fredrick went limp in her arms, she followed him down and sobbed. "Clara, there is nothing we can do for him now, Come," Her father said with a touch of sadness in his voice. Clara nodded and stood, laying Fredrick down gently. "You are remarkable." She whispered to the corpse before clinging to her father,


Meanwhile, Jonah wasted no time, his eyes adjusted to the darkness almost immediately. He pulled Lady Aurora behind him, wishing he had a blade of some sort on him but he didn't. It was a freezing dance for the sake of the gods, yet he could feel the darkness brought forth danger. No sooner then he thought that did his sister's shrill scream ring out, Jonah turned, keeping a tight hold of his partner. While finding Clara in the crowd. Lord Fredrick was down and a man stood over his sister. He made a move forward but his father, as his title suggested, emerged from the dark, like a shadow and snapped the small man's neck with his massive hands. Jonah knew his sister was safe and looked for his mother, instead of his mother's red hair, he saw a touch of it, just outside. He knew that was the Princess and he couldn’t imagine she was running away from her brothers. No, she was being taken. He couldn’t very well leave the little woman he was with, so he turned, scooping her off the ground, protests or now, and made his way over to his father, who had both his sister and mother in tow. The two men didn't exchange words but they didn't need to. His father gave him a curt nod, promising he would get the women out, Aurora included. "You're Safe here, My Lady, Go with them." He said, and without another word, he dashed off, moving with an uncanny silence.

He found himself outside, and he stopped, pausing a moment, to listening. His heart was racing, but he calmed himself, so not to make a mistake. There was a grunting sound, but not the ones that would indicate a lover's tryst. He followed it, and soon, dotted of blood gave him a trail to follow more precise than the sound. Wishing Snow was with him and not somewhere in Blackvale's woods, Jonah softened his steps to see that a man was forcing his blade down on the princess. Jonah quelled his fury, at the sight. What man would use such a tactic on a woman, she wasn't defenseless but she wasn't armed either. Jonah crouched low and stepped around them so that the man had his back to him, and silent as a shadow, he snuck up behind him and grabbed the man in a headlock, pulling him off the princess, and backward, using his weight to send both of them to the ground. The man blade clattered to the ground, while the man scrambled to get to his feet, all the while Jonah recovered gracefully. The man couldn't find his blade in the dark but Jonah could see it, unfortunately, it wasn't within his reach. He wasn't nearly as strong as his father but that would be fine. The man attacked and Jonah braced himself for the manic swings. He dodged them, his back stiff, his stance strong before he countered, smack a hand away that came toward his face, and coming in without a clenched fist. The blow tipped the man's head backward and that was enough of an opening for Jonah to come in, grabbed the man's arm, turning it, and pulling it down. He sent a sharp fist into the joint, and a sickening snap resounded. The man squealed as bone protruded from the skin. Jonah released him, and picked up the blade before with a touch of flair, relieved the would-be assassin of his head. Jonah took a breath and turned to the Princess.
"While I'm sure you are perfectly capable, I thought to offer my assistance." He said as he held out a hand to her. She was bleeding quite badly but overall she would heal. This was not the way he wanted to meet her but it couldn’t say it was a bad first impression unless she had an aversion to violence. In which case, he was a monster and stood not a chance but that was a thought for another time."Jonah Allyrion, May I help you up?"

AVERY THATCHER
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Eldest Son | The Armadillo
#F0A804 | Outfit

ELLIOT THATCHER
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Youngest Son | The Casanova
#551A8B | Outfit

The pirate's pleasant willingness to comply with Lara's scrambled request made her feel like her heart had swollen two sizes and was about to blow - in a nice way. As they danced she almost forgot she was dancing and missed a few steps without realizing, too wrapped up in his words to remember which foot went forward. She didn't seem too apologetic about messing up either, just dismissing the fumbles with a smile and a shrug. The dance wasn't nearly as deserving of her attention than the story.

She listened to it intently and with these wide, eager eyes that peered up with anticipation for every sentence that followed from the last. Though she was looking at him, she wasn't seeing him. She saw the action folding out in front of her, much like how an imagination draws up an image from the words in the pages of a book. While he so generously relayed the gory details of the fight, her nose scrunched up and she found her belief fluttering – there was no way a dagger had scraped against his face to only shave his mustache – well, she supposed it was possible – sure, it happened. Why not? She tried her best to keep a straight face (after all, it was unladylike to show interest in violence), but she did let the accidental reaction slip, as well as one skeptical, “Really...?”

“The ship as it turned out was an independent, looking to trade with the Isles, they seemed to be unaware that we were more likely to simply take their cargo altogether.” They moved on from the bloodbath to the more depressing aftermath, at least it felt that way to Lara. Her sympathies were quickly washed out by the tales of celebration and she found herself grinning through it.

“Mother ranted for days, asking us what we’d have done if we had begun a war with the Vale. I didn’t much care, not when the buzz of the fight still rung in my ears. Our father had been proud though.” There was a subtle change in the way the Daverny held himself as he let out a sigh. “That had been enough. Well. And hearing the story of it passing from ear to ear. Each iteration more grand than the other.”

Lara let out a low whistle the second he stopped for breath. “The greatest feat I've ever done for my father's approval was simply coming here,” she murmured, but that wasn't exactly true. When she was young, while she had been wrapped up in her mother's 'lady' studies, her connection with her father began to fade. Their lives simply had less to do with one another's. Her brilliant idea to rekindle their connection was to impress her father by conquering her fear of horses. Trying to tame and ride a moody stallion she was deathly afraid of unsurprisingly did not end well and the experience only contributed to her uneasiness. In fact, it was no wonder that she did not consider this a feat. Climbing a tree with a dislocated shoulder could be, she supposed, but the fact that she climbed it to hide from a horse was another matter.

She went back to listening to his stories, finding them more detailed (and unyielding with violence) as they went on. She didn't say much if not anything at all, but she didn't mind. What from her life that was so boring in comparison could she speak about to him? As another story drew to a close, Lara hung on to the silence, waiting for him to break it with another tale. He broke it, but the time for stories had seemed to pass. Lara guiltily thought she had made his throat sore.

“I know that you've been told to do otherwise,” he said, “But I do hope we get to speak some more some time.”

Whether he was genuine or not, eh, it was hard to tell with a pirate. Lara just gave a wonky smile that said 'oh well'. It could be another adventure, trying to sneak to him right under her mother's beak. Her adventures held no grain to his, if the worth of adventures were counted in glory and gold.

“Thanks,” she replied meekly before clearing her throat and trying again, “I don't know your -” A sudden wind chilled her and took the light out of the room with it. “... Huh.”

The initial outrage of the nobles quietened down in a moment and the place became all too quiet. Moonlight dappled the audience, only letting Lara see shifting shapes and no faces. Something felt wrong. She fell still as did what she did best – listened. It was so faint, even her ears could barely pick up the sound of steel and the gasp of pain, then through all the panic, the hushed but authoritative voice that followed. But they did. What those words said, she could not tell. She opened her mouth to alert someone when there was a horrified scream from behind her and she knew that there was no doubt the Keep was under attack. What followed was hell.

Hell was confused footsteps, the slashing of throats and the cries of victims and witnesses. Lara was frozen with no clue of what to do. The sounds of fighting seemed to come from all around her, closing her in. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a glint in the moonlight and darted towards it, snatching the large circular tray of drinks from a serving boy. The goblets spilled at the severity of this action and she felt dark liquid flood over her chest and sink into her skirts. She came back to her dance partners side, holding the tray up like a shield. She looked ridiculous. It was a good thing it was dark. She budged over close enough to him that her elbow brushed against his arm. It was odd to say, but it was safer to be next to the pirate in this situation.

“Here's your chance to prove you can do half the things you just claimed you could,” she said loud enough to be heard over all the yelling, “I really hope you weren't completely lying.”