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Ellyn de Guilayne

"Yes my lord."

0 · 312 views · located in Kingdom of Anglia

a character in “Until There's No Blood Left to Spill”, as played by SkullsandSlippers

Description

Age:21
Hair:Long, dark brown, curling locks. They reach well past her hips.
Height:5'6
Eyes:Soft hazel colour.

Description: Slim torso flows into a soft curve of hip. All is covered in corset and gown. Her hair, some of the curls pinned up, flows long down her back. Her husband's desire to show off what he has has led to him insisting her hair be left long and out, her gowns low cut and of high quality fabric.

Her eyes are large, soft and doe like. Her nose slightly angular and her lips a small rosebud. Often casting her eyes downward, she rarely smiles beyond a cordial one in greeting or thanks.

Marital status: Arranged marriage to Lord Armand de Guilayne, cousin to the Falyan. Has yet to bear him a child.

Personality

Personality: Quiet, passive and gentile, Ellyn is the definition of a proper wife. She was raised for the purpose of being married off to a noble man. She can dance, sing and her needle point is perfect.

Respectful, dutiful and obedient. She is the ideal wife for a man like Armand.

Under all of her breeding, Ellyn is unhappy. She has no love for the man she has married, has been unable to bear him children and in her entire life has always done what she was told.

Equipment

Equipment: Ellyn herself owns nothing.

She has a wardrobe that her husband chooses for her. Her time is spent in the typical duties of the female head of small house.

She has a lady in waiting, Meagre who sits with her when she stiches, helps her dress and attened to her clothing. They speak little, Meagre treating Ellyn like a delicate bird rather than a woman at the head of a household.

History

History: Armand de Guilayne was a man of means. His family holds lands that include a port of call for ships bringing goods. Armand, a man of 48 now married the girl five years ago, she the age of 16. Her family, very minor nobles had bred Ellyn with the purpose of marrying her off.

Armand lavished his young wife with goods fitting what he feels is his station. He often paraded the demure young woman around for all to see.

It became clear early on in their marriage that there was no love there. Armand didn't care. He had a young pretty wife who he was sure would give him many children and run his household while he did what he did best, keep order in the family's land and hunt.

Despite his efforts, Ellyn has yet to become pregnant. Armand has taken to finding others to take to bed, leaving the woman alone most nights. He is not abusive or mean to her, their relationship amicable as one would expect of an arranged marriage.

For her part, Ellyn has done her best to do whatever Armand asks. She is a wonderful host, planning small gatherings for various celebrations. She appears at his side in all public things and never speaks ill of him.
Armand is traveling to the attend court as the head of the De Guilayne's. His father is on his death bed and Armand, being the eldest has taken over full control.

Ellyn, ever dutiful travels with him.

De Guilayne's sigil-Cut in diagonal, the background of blue and green. Trimmed in white with a auklet, a small seabird that resides on the coast in the middle.

So begins...

Ellyn de Guilayne's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne
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“You packed the red one? That will be for a dinner. The blue for the main feast. The paler blue will be mid-day dress. You understand?” He was talking to Meagre, not her.

Ellyn looked out the small window. The curtain covered it but just a slip of the outside world could be seen on the edge. The coast had given way to thick forests as they travelled to the capital for the Midsummer feast. She had never been to the capital. Armand had gone when he was younger, to be presented at court but his father always went as the houses representative. With him gone, Armand was now the head of his family.

Her hand touched the hem of the material, brushing it lightly and daring to give herself more of a view of the passing world. Ellyn had lived on the coast her entire life. The water, waves and rocks was what she knew. The greenery and trees were different.

“Do you not think so my dove?”

Ellyn’s hand dropped quickly and she looked across at her husband. “I am very sorry my lord, I did not hear you.” Her hands folded into her lap and her eyes dropped demurely towards them. A flush stained her cheeks.

“I said that the purple one will look lovely on you with the new necklace I had done for you. Do you not agree?”

Armand looked a little concerned as he watched his wife.

“Yes my lord, I think you have chosen well. I will be happy to wear what you wish.” Ellyn nodded her head slightly, a bow of acceptance to her husband.

Armand softened his voice, “Are you alright? You are not feeling ill are you?” Movement beside her found Meagre beginning to fret over her.

Ellyn let the woman take her hand and rest her other thick hand against her cheek. “I am fine my lord. I am not ill but I thank you for your concern.”

Meagre patted her hand. “There, there...travelling can be hard on some.” The woman’s tone was vaguely condescending and patronizing.

Armand smiled. “It is alright my little dove, my little pet. We won’t be travelling too much longer.” He looked out the window, moving the curtain so he could call out to the driver.

“How much further?”

Meagre removed her presence from Ellyn’s skin. She let out a little breath and closed her eyes. In truth Elly was enjoying the travelling greatly. She had never done something so enjoyable in her life. The last journey she took of any kind was from her childhood home to Armand’s when they married. It had not been a very far trip.

This, the days they had been on the road and the prospect of being in court set her heart beating with excitement. She would never tell that to Armand, he would undoubtedly be concerned that the excitement would be too much for her and send her to rest or worse, send her back home. Ellyn knew he was anxious to get to court and she would do or say nothing to alter that course.

“Half a day sir. You will be at the castle by nightfall.”

Ellyn looked up at her husband. Armand smiled “See, not too much longer.” She nodded, a few curls falling over her shoulder. She smiled at him as was proper.

The man leaned forward, brushing the curls back lightly and placing a small kiss on her forehead. “Rest pet.”

Ellyn rested her head back against the seat. Rest. His answer to everything. They all treated her as if she might break if she did not sleep enough, as if the slightest activity taxed her body so much that she could barely remain upright. It was a result of her inability to give him a child. All thought her weak in constitution. There was nothing wrong with her physically. She wanted to yell at them, tell them that if her husband did not bed her then there was no way for her to issue forth an offspring. Armand had given up so long ago. Always kind to her, he simply took care of her as one does an exotic bird, not a wife. Ellyn, of course would never utter a word against him.

Closing her eyes and pretending to rest for him, she was left to her thoughts. Would there be dancing? Performers? Would Armand allow her to dance? Her stomach jumped at the thought. Oh to dance on a floor full of other dancers, music playing and laughter filling the air. And the food. Would the other women talk to her? Would she have anything to say?

It was a time later when Ellyn opened her eyes. She had dozed off to the lull of the moving carriage and her own minds musings.

Sitting up, she brushed her hair from her cheek.

“There is my lovely. Do you feel better now?” Armand smiled at her.

“Yes my lord.” Ellyn dropped her eyes again. Outside the light through the curtain was fading.

The rest of the ride passed in silence. As the light grew darker, Ellyn became more nervous and excited. She showed none of it though, her hands folded in her lap.

Shouts, calls of arrival and for gates to be drawn signalled their arrival. Hooves clattered and slowed, eventually stopping.

“We are here pet. Do not worry, you can rest as soon as we get settled in. You must be exhausted.” Armand waited for the door to be opened for him.

Ellyn inwardly sighed. Exhausted. She was no such thing. “Yes my lord.”

The door opened and Armand stepped out. Reaching back he held his hand for Ellyn to take. Delicately she placed her own into his and let him help her out.

They stood side by side in the courtyard. Ellyn looked around and tried hard to hide the amazement from her eyes.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Queen Tarwenna Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne Character Portrait: Prince Jonquael Drudwit the Black Stallion
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Servants were milling about. Trunks were removed from the carriage and disappeared into the castle for rooms unknown to Ellyn. Her eyes were too busy looking at the structure before her. Stone, cold and solid but majestic and inspiring. She noticed little details the masons had put in. Symbols, faces or designs in the beautiful stone work. She could only imagine what the inside of the castle looked like.

Her husband held out his hand for her to take. “Come now dove, I know it is too much for you but we must have introductions.” Armand offered his wife a sympathetic smile, mistaking her quiet look of awe for distress.

Hazel orbs looked at the man, a slender hand was placed in his and the soft swish of long brown hair as she bowed her head to him in acceptance. Ellyn would not argue, would not utter a word against what he wished. He was being kind, assuming she was too overcome with all the travelling and such. She would not make him look a fool by uttering otherwise.

Armand smiled a little bigger. He was proud of his lovely wife, her behaviour and demeanour was always impeccable. He was confident that his first appearance at court, representing his household would go well. Armand was comfortable and confident as they followed the man into the castle doors.

Ellyn walked, quiet grace as her green dress swished about her feet. Looking straight ahead her eyes did try and take in as much as possible as they passed into castle proper. Here too there were details in the stonework, lovely tapestries and other adornments fitting of the castle in the heart of a kingdom.

They walked, following the page to a set of doors. These were opened for them, allowing them to enter the great hall. Ellyn could see three figures on the far end of the room. The royal family. She knew of them, all did but she had never seen them in person.

Armand strode forward, leading his wife gently with him. Ellyn looked straight ahead but did her best to not make any prolonged eye contact with the figures ahead of her.

“Queen Tarwenna, Prince Jonquael and Prince Davinweir.” Ellyn mentally named them. There was no one else. The king was ill, everyone knew that. She was relieved now, she would not embarrass Armand by not remembering names. There would be many introductions in the coming days and with tensions high it would be a great disaster if she happened to slip up on a name or their relation others. Falyn or Dorian, friends or enemies...these were things Ellyn needed to be aware to ensure Armand was represented well. One slip and there could be blood.

“Lord and Lady Armand de Guilayne.”

Armand released her hand, bowing to his Queen and Princes. Ellyn curtseyed deeply, green dress pooling around her. Her head dipped down, her eyes on the floor.

She waited there, waiting the exact number of breaths that was fitting before slowly straightening. Beside her, Armand was smiling slightly. He was happy to be here, that much was clear.

Ellyn waited now. They would be welcomed and eventually dismissed. Her hands were folded against the front of her dress. She looked over the royal family. There was movement around her. Ladies in waiting, servants waiting patiently but Ellyn paid them no mind.

The queen, still beautiful after everything she had been through projected a grace and regalness that Ellyn admired. Everyone knew the stories of miscarriages, the death of a child. Ellyn admired the woman.

Her gaze drifted to the younger prince. Around her age from what Ellyn could tell, Davinweir carried the sadness of a man ten years his senior in his eyes. Ellyn knew the stories of the woman he had been courting who was murdered, of Davinweir executing the man and now with his father ill, the favourite son bore the majority of the grief. Part of her felt bad for the man but she knew from the conversations that went on in Armand’s hall that the stag prince was not well liked in all circles for his decisions.

Ellyn’s attention turned to the older of the brother’s. In contrast to his brother’s blonde curls, Jonquael’s almost red hair was cut short. Dark eyes made Ellyn pause. She found herself staring into their darkness. She cast her own eyes down, a slight blush stained her cheek. She had not meant to meet his eyes, she had simply been looking the men over, putting a name to a face.

Ellyn hoped Jonquael would not notice. It had been inappropriate of her. A slight shame washed over her. Raising her gaze to respectable level, Ellyn waited. A few long, stray curls fell over her shoulder and Ellyn made no more to fix them. She stood perfectly still. Armand, beside her was still smiling.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Queen Tarwenna Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne Character Portrait: Prince Jonquael Drudwit the Black Stallion
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It was late in the day, and the royal family had been greeting their guests for hours. Davinweir had been very wry and dismissive, leaving it to his mother and brother to make their subjects feel welcome. One knight whom they met had been so displeased with the Stag Prince as to call him ‘loathsome’ to his face. That unwise knight was now bidding his time in the dungeon.

When the Lord de Guilayne and his lady arrived, Davin looked blankly at them. He hardly cared for them. Lord Armand’s smile repulsed him. And Davin had been so depressed, that he hardly took any interest in women. They displeased him. All women seemed alike, and he could even say that he hated them. They either reminded him of his mother--and his mother was the Devil incarnate--or they reminded him of his dead beloved Lissa. And he could not bear thinking of her.

Lady Ellyn reminded him of the latter. As he looked upon her, he became very upset. The way she seemed like a lost animal, and how she appeared to go about the world and let things happen to her, it made him very depressed. The hair that fell upon her shoulder was the tipping point. He made an audible groan and turned away. He spotted his favorite bloodhound nearby and he whistled him over. He lavished his attention on the droopy dog and ignored the Lord and Lady standing before him.

Tarwenna was at the end of her patience with Davin. It seemed every day that she would send up a prayer to the heavens, wishing that someone would assassinate him. She thought that the disgruntled knight from earlier might have done it, but with him in the dungeon she mourned for an opportunity lost. But while Davin was still living and making an ass of himself, the best she could do in public was ignore him.

“My Lord and Lady de Guilayne, I am so pleased that you have joined us for the Midsummer festivities. Your presence fills me with gratitude, and I welcome you to our home.” Queen Tarwenna spoke with extra fondness, to cover up for Davin’s rudeness. She almost sounded gasping, as if she were on the edge of hysterics, so happy she was to meet them.

In truth, she did not care much at all for Lord Armand, but there was something about his young wife that called to her. She had the feeling that Lady Ellyn was too good for her husband, and was in sore need of someone to help her access some independence. Every once in a while, Tarwenna took a young lady under her wing, and she had turned the meekest of maidens into emancipated and powerful ladies of court. Tarwenna did not know if Ellyn could be one of these ladies, but she was interested in her at least.

“Lady Ellyn,” Tarwenna spoke to her kindly. “I hope you will spend time with my ladies and I during your stay. Tomorrow morning we play Ground Billiards in my garden. It is one of my very favorite amusements. Jubery, hand the lady an invitation.” She gestured to the manservant that waited on her. He stepped crisply to Ellyn and bowed before her, proffering a neatly rolled piece of parchment. Inside it read:

Her Majesty requests your attendance in a game of Ground Billiards
Beginning at Half-Way Terce
In Her Majesty’s garden courtyard

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Queen Tarwenna Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne Character Portrait: Prince Jonquael Drudwit the Black Stallion
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Ellyn heard the groan, her eyes turning to the younger of the two men. Davinweir appeared annoyed or at least bored with their presence. The sharp whistle hurt her ears but she dared not react. The dogs soft padding filled the somewhat awkward brief silence. If Armand noticed or thought anything of the behaviour he said nothing.

Ellyn looked to the queen. It was clear the woman was not happy with her son. Ellyn could see the signs of patience worn very, very thin. Armand beside her seemed completely unaware of the unspoken tension in the room.

The queen spoke up, welcoming the couple and Ellyn could hear the almost desperation in her voice. She was doing an admirable job of covering the prince's rude behaviour with her speech, even as Davin lavished the hound with affection.

Armand, of course still noticed nothing odd about the overly complimentary way the queen was speaking to such a minor noble. His chest puffed up just a little. Ellyn remained the same, hands folded and back straight.

Her heart stopped however as the queen spoke directly to her. She smiled graciously. The queen's tone was kind and Ellyn knew it was a great honour to be invited to join the queen and her ladies. She was slightly puzzled as there was no reason for the queen to over her the invitation but it did not stop the flutter of excitement that occurred in her stomach.

As the servant stepped forward, offering Ellyn the rolled parchment Armand reached across her body to neatly pluck it from his hand. Ellyn did not move, made no motion to take it. Armand unbound the neat little roll and scanned the perfectly written words.

“You do my wife a great honour, your majesty. She will of course attend tomorrow morning.” Armand nodded his thanks to the queen.

Ellyn curtsied again in thanks. She would have liked to voice her thanks but she would not speak, not when Armand had already done so. She was happy he had not turned down the offer, thinking it would be too much for her. He had to know that turning the invitation down would have been a grave error.

As Ellyn straightened Armand glanced over at her. His smile had broaden a little. She did not turn to look at him, keeping her eyes forward but she knew he was looking proudly at her. Part of her wished he was cruel to her so that she could at least hate him for his behaviour. Ellyn could not though, she was simply doing her duty as his wife it was a testament to her upbringing that he could be so proud.

Armand looked back at the royals. All that was left was for them to be dismissed from the great hall and he would escort his wife to her rest before searching out some of the other men to converse with. Perhaps a gentleman's game or a drink before he, himself turned in.

Ellyn felt relief knowing the introductions and welcomes were almost completed. She was content knowing that faux pas was overlooked by Prince Jonquael, perhaps not even noticed. That she had won some sort approval from the queen and that their time here was beginning on good footing.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Queen Tarwenna Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Sir Sedwiff Falyn Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Amara Dorian Character Portrait: Richard of Iron Peak
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The opening feast at midsummer was a lavish tradition that spanned back at least three hundred years into the Drudwit’s rule, and functioned efficiently as a public display for all the nobles of court to see which families held favor with the Royal family. The Grand Hall had several long tables scattered and set among the massive chamber, and the seating accommodations were based on a complicated social structure based on hierarchy and favor. Some tables were set aside for royal knights, some lower nobles, and some specifically for the knights and nobles loyal to specific families, such as the Dorians and Falyns, whom it would not be wise to seat together. The long tabled that was of most interest to the feast goers however, was the royal long table that ran through the middle of the hall. It was also the longest table in the hall, and with the royal family traditionally sitting at the head, the heads of all the great families or those in favor with the Drudwits were seated at the table according to importance. Though the king was still ill, a place at the head was stilled placed for him beside the Queen, with Jonquel taking the first seat to the right, and Davinweir to the left. Due to the circumstances of this midsummer, it was deemed necessary to have both members from House Falyn and Dorian present in places of honor, so three places were set for the Falyns to the right after Jonquel, and three places for the Dorians to the right of Davinweir. This was a feast that many viewed with either anticipation or dread, in some cases both.

Amara found herself torn on whether or not to be delighted with, or abhor the seating arrangements. Her uncle had sent his apologizes to the queen, claiming sudden illness onset from the long journey south, though in reality Lyle had erupted in another one of his episodes once they had retired to their chambers. Though Amara had come out of the confrontation relatively unscathed, the sheer violence of the outburst and the unhinged look in her uncle’s eyes left her feeling shaken, and more than a little afraid to return to her room later. Regardless of the reason for her uncle’s absence, it left her seated next to perhaps the last person in the world she wished to have close contact with, Prince Davinweir, and she was positively dreading the table talk that would inevitable ensue. On the bright side however, she had Richard sitting to her left, whom she knew could hold his own in a battle of dinner time retorts, and even better, she now had a viable excuse to engage Sedwiff Falyn in conversation, as he was seated almost directly across from her at the table. She was unsure what to make of Lord Marcus Falyn, or his son Logaric. Marcus held a startling resemblance to Sedwiff, though perhaps because she knew who he was, what he had done, and the aura of dominance that seemed to hang around him, the man put her on edge. His youngest son hardly resembled Sedwiff or Marcus at all, and though she could hardly claim to know him, he did seemed to have a bit more pleasant demeanor. Amara would have to wait and see though once they began talking. As was custom, she remained silent and standing in front of her seat until the King, or in this year’s case the Queen, made a short welcome speech, bid them welcome to this year’s Midsummer festivities, and took her own seat.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Queen Tarwenna Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Sir Sedwiff Falyn Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Amara Dorian Character Portrait: Richard of Iron Peak
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“I think you should stay. I do not think that travelling agreed with you. Your cheeks are flushed but you are so frightfully pale.” Armand walked around his seated wife, inspecting her as her hair was pinned up.

“What do you think Meagre?”

Ellyn sat in the chair, her hands in her lap as Meagre worked on her hair. She was dressed in a rich blue gown, the neckline low and very flattering. The colour made her hazel eyes shine. Further accentuating her neck was a lovely necklace of silver with many blue gemstones.

The woman huffed and stuck a pin into Ellyn’s hair forcibly, securing the silver net about the two braids. Armand had given in to Meagre’s suggestion that at least part of Ellyn’s hair be pinned up for dinner, lest the woman eat more hair than food.

“I didn’t waste my time on her to undress her and put her to bed. She should be fine.” Meagre leant over to look at Ellyn’s face. She raised her chin. “Are you feeling ill?”

Ellyn shook her head, as much as her situation would allow, the grip on her chin keeping her reasonably immobile. “I feel fine.”

Armand was pacing, “I do not know....” He scratched at his head.

Meagre patted Ellyn’s chin, “That’s a good girl.” She left her, tending to articles of clothing and such that needed organizing.

Ellyn turned in her chair, just slightly to look at her husband. “If it pleases my lord, I could attend for a time and should I feel faint or tired I will of course excuse myself. I would like to partake in the feast.” Her eyes pleaded just a little.

Armand stopped and moved to take his wife’s hands. “Oh little dove, I will not deny you this. If you feel up to it than I will take you. I will not leave your side though and you must tell me the moment you feel tired.” He drew her hands up to his lips.

“Of course my lord.” Ellyn’s eyes were cast demurely down. Inwardly she sighed. She wanted him to leave her even for just a little while, just so she could enjoy the feast without him over her shoulder.

She would not get tired, she knew. They treated her as such a fragile thing but she was not. The idea of the feast, of the people and conversation made her feel almost drunk with excitement.

Armand raised her hands and Ellyn stood obediently. She took his arm and let him lead her from their rooms to the main feast hall.

It was bustling already. Armand’s shoulders squared as he entered. He held her on his arm as if parading her for all to see. Ellyn made little eye contact as they moved to their seats. She floated gracefully at her husband’s side.

He greeted many, stopping to shake hands or hug various cousins. Ellyn chanced glances at the royal table. The princes sat, two chairs set at the head of the table for their parents. Ellyn found herself looking quickly away from the older Prince. She was still embarrassed for the way she had stared at him when they were received.

“Are you alright?” A voice whispered in her ear.

Ellyn looked at Armand. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “You are flushed again pet.”

“I am still fine my lord, a bit thirsty and a bit warm.”

Armand patted her hand like one would when placating a child, “Of course, let us sit.” He led her to a table to the side of the royal table. Here other Falyan cousins sat. He pulled out a chair for her and Ellyn wanted to hug him for choosing one that allowed her a clear view of the royal table. She could see the back of Jonqueal’s head. Across from him was his brother. Beside the blonde prince sat a beautiful woman of dark hair and fair skin.

“She is lovely.” The thought stayed as Ellyn’s eyes traveled down the table. Next to the beautiful lady sat a very tall, very muscular man. He was unfamiliar to her as well. She could not tell if he was happy to be there or loathing the experience.

At her table the men had begun talking of politics and the tension between the families. The conversation revolved around the meeting of Marcus and his sons. Ellyn folded her hands in her lap and observed more of the main table.

The fanfare sounded. Armand and Ellyn stood, he helping her out of the chair. The Queen entered. Her dress was awe inspiring. Ellyn’s eyes travelled over it taking in the bead work. The speech concluded, the Queen sat and everyone else did so as well.

The food began to arrive and it was every bit as magnificent as Ellyn had hoped. Armand leaned over to his wife, “Not too much rich food dove, we do not want it to make you ill.”

Ellyn looked at her lap, “Yes my lord.”

When he began to dive into the rich meats, Ellyn looked up again and picked daintily at her plate. Her eye was caught by movement at the royal table. A tray between the prince and the beautiful woman appeared to contain rabbits in the act of mating. Ellyn’s hand went to her mouth.

Armand looked over. “Disgraceful. Course it’s the Dorian girl, to be expected.”

Ellyn frowned. Dorian. With her colouring she should have known who the woman was, the tales of her beauty reached even Ellyn’s ears. The display was still disgraceful and disrespectful.

“Avert your eyes pet. There is no need for a woman such as yourself to see such things.”

“Or do such things.” Ellyn bit her tongue to stifle the unbidden thought. It shocked her, that she would think such a thing against her husband. It was true he did not come to her bed any longer but that should be of no issue to her. He took care of her, was kind to her what did it matter if he was not attracted to her? She found herself unsure where the retort had come from but she was glad it remained solely in her head.

Ellyn picked at her food, more enraptured with the royal table than her plate. Armand, in usual behaviour began to stuff and drink himself full. “Fine feast. Fine indeed.” Meat stuck in his beard.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Queen Tarwenna Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Amara Dorian Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne
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Ellyn’s eyes were on the head table. There seemed to be much conversation and storytelling. The tapestry that was displayed was beautiful and it brought many compliments. In comparison her own table contained numerous Falyn cousins, mostly older men and a few matronly wives. She was the youngest at the table by over a decade. As they finished their plates a few even began to nod off.

Despite the lewd positioning of the rabbits they all seemed in great spirits at the royal table. Ellyn felt a twinge of jealousy for the younger women of the court who were guests there. ”Oh to be unmarried and part of that...” Instantly she regretted such a disrespectful thought. With a wan smile she reached out to touch Armand’s hand. Ellyn lightly squeezed it, a silent apology for the thought he was not privy to.

The man instantly turned to her. “Is something wrong dove? Do you wish to go? Here let me...”

Ellyn removed her hand, “No my lord. I am perfectly fine. Your vest is just very pleasing tonight and I found myself admiring it. Tis all.” A lie but Armand smiled pleasantly and patted her cheek as if she were a child. “Why thank you pet. You of course look as lovely as ever. I did a very good job of ensuring your features are shown to their best.”

“Of course my lord.” Ellyn dropped her eyes to her lap.

She sat like that for several minutes. A grunt from one of the men drew her attention back up. “The Dorian’s are trying for gaudy it appears.” The distant Falyn cousins all murmured their disapproval. Ellyn did not let her frown show. ”They are just grumpy because they brought such lovely fashioned and exotic jewels and the Falyn’s brought a rug to hang on the wall.”

Ellyn put a hand to her mouth. Had she really just thought such rude things? She wasn’t sure exactly what was happening but her thoughts were betraying her very disciplined and proper upbringing.

In an attempt to calm herself Ellyn focused on the gifts that were being displayed. The gold shone and the jewels glittered and even from her position Ellyn could see how beautiful they were. The Queen’s new necklace was breathtaking in its design.

“Oh my.” Ellyn let the words breathe out.

Armand turned from his gawking at the royal table to look at his wife. “Your eyes look glassy. I believe you have a fever.”

Ellyn panicked. “Oh no my lord, simply amazed at the colours. I pray, please do not send me away I am feeling fine.”

Armand looked his young wife over, crossing his arms. “Alright but if Meagre tells me you spend all day tomorrow in bed because of exhaustion or a fever I will be very cross with you.” His tone, much like every time he addressed her was that of a father his petulant child.

Ellyn offered him a kind smile and then quickly dropped her eyes. “Of course my lord.”

All attention was back on the Queen as she thanked Lady Amara for the gifts. Things slowly returned to a general din of numerous conversations. Ellyn sat, straight backed and stiff, her hands in her lap as the others at her table drank, discussed minor politics and gossip or snored.

“Will you be staying long?”

“Oh no, I do not partake of the later festivities. I will be retiring soon.”

“Yes, been a long time since I have had the energy for feasts or dancing and the like.”

“You know I do believe they get louder and louder.”

“Quite right, in our youth there was not so much...noise and never would one of the lady’s offered the gifts. How improper of her guardian to let the lady do that.”

“Oh no, it is causing quite a stir. Exactly what the Dorian’s want you know.”

“Oh but of course. Never one for subtlety or decorum.”

“But she is a pretty thing though is she not?”

“Oh yes, I would guess her marriage will be a great fuss.”

Ellyn listened intently to the two elder women as they clucked and gossiped between them. They did nothing to lower their voices, Ellyn believing that either or both were slightly deaf.

She hoped there would be dancing and more talking or stories. Her chest was nearly bursting with excitement. Her only concern was that Armand would want to leave early.

Ellyn’s slender hand picked up her glass and she daintily took a sip of her wine. It was rich and thick. A slight flush appeared in her cheeks. She was enjoying the feast, even if her table was the least lively of the room.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Queen Tarwenna Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Sir Sedwiff Falyn Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Amara Dorian Character Portrait: Richard of Iron Peak
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After the great opening feast had concluded, those who were not too deep in their cups to move were ushered into the spacious side hall where entertainment and mingling were to be expected. Minstrels, chosen for their skill and popularity from throughout Anglia, preformed on the dais in the back of the hall, filling the room with lively cheerful music that had many of the young nobles up and dancing. The line dances that allowed for twirling and constant change of partner was the most respectable and efficient way to dance, even in a hall this size, and though her turn with Prince Jonquel had been rather stiff (He was an elegant dancer in his own right but, but she suspected their proximity had made him uncomfortable, as had that of every other Lady he’d taken a turn with, so she was not offended.), Amara was thoroughly enjoying herself. The line they were dancing now a variation of the popular “Maiden and the Chair” that was particularly well received by the younger unmarried nobles. It was rather a flirtatious dance, with much twirling and almost touching step with one’s partner for the turn. In fact, it almost bordered on the indecent in some of the older generation’s mind, but it had always been too popular to deny. Mostly now it were only the old widows who complained bitterly in the corner, but no one else really minded.

So far Amara had managed to avoid the over protective supervision of her cousin Richard, and she honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if he had stayed in the feasting hall to drink with the other knights. After the Lords and Ladies had left with the queen, a bout of rowdier drinking songs had taken over the music in the hall, and most of the knights found that much preferable to the social games being played here. In fact, Amara had managed to evade most of her dinner companions so far, with the exception of Jonquel, and a part of her felt rather relieved. Her temper had been quite out of check as of late, and her gut clenched with anxiety at the thought of what Prince Davinweir would provoke her to next. Lord Marcus’s stare had also begun to unnerve Amara in a way she couldn’t quite explain, and she was doing her best to avoid him. She had yet to come across Sir Sedwiff either, and though she felt some disappointment over that, Amara tried not to dwell, and had taken up to conversing with her many dance partners. This was after all, a fishing expedition, she thought dryly, but with her Uncle bedridden for the night, Amara was free from the parade of old wealthy suitors she knew would be coming in her near future. Tonight she was free, free to dance with handsome knights who weren’t twice her age, free to laugh, free to tease, and free to be a young woman without the pressures of impending matrimony, and the hopes of her entire family to be shut away in some drafty castle to begin producing healthy Dorian heirs. Shut away safely like she’d been for her entire life, gods help her. Perhaps it was the wine, but there was a touch of desperation in Amara’s step as she twirled and danced with Sir Braxton Blackwood, a kind of determination to experience life before it was ripped away, and she knew it would be. So tonight she was going to dance, because there was no telling how many more she was likely to have.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Sir Sedwiff Falyn Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Amara Dorian Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne Character Portrait: Lady Melevine of Gardren
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Dinner ended and the majority of the people at Ellyn’s table had dozed off, left or were quite drunk. Many of the women had excused themselves. Ellyn sat at the table of men, back straight and hands in her lap. Her eyes watched as the minstrels set up and the dancing began.

She longed to be out there. Even at her wedding she had not danced. Armand had not wanted to risk exhausting the young girl at her wedding. In truth she did not think Armand like to dance or could not dance and thus used her as an excuse.

The music was so lively. One foot began to tap under her dress, hands fidgeted in her lap and eyes stared longingly at the dancers. Young girls in beautiful dresses swirled and turned on the floor. A lump formed in Ellyn’s throat. These girls were young and most unmarried or recently married. I will never have this. I have never had this. Emotion overcame her and Ellyn looked down at her lap. One slender hand wiped at her eyes.

“Are you alright dove?”

Armand’s voice jarred her. Ellyn looked up at him. “Oh I am fine, just thinking on how good the meal was.”

Armand nodded. “Yes, yes a fine meal. I think perhaps it is time to retire? I shall bring you back to our room and then I will likely go play cards.”

Ellyn’s face dropped. “No, I mean...I would like to take in some of the dancing and other amusements. I am not tired or ill. Please my lord, a little while longer?”

Armand looked over at the crowd of dancers. He frowned. “I do not know pet. I worry that it will wear on your fragile nerves.”

Ellyn swallowed. There was a small glimmer of hope. “I promise to tell you the moment I feel weary. Just a short time my lord?”

Armand leaned forward on the table. His fingers drummed on the hard surface. Ellyn waited patiently. Her husband seemed to ponder the idea over for several minutes leaving Ellyn on baited breath.

“Alright pet but just a short time and I have you promise that you will tell me if you get tired.”

Ellyn smiled and bowed her head. “I promise my lord.”

Armand stood, placed a chaste kiss on her forehead as a father would a child and then held out his hand to her. Ellyn stood and let him lead her towards the dancing. He picked a side where she could see but a few chairs waited for tired dancers. He sat immediately and began to look for a servant in hopes of getting a tankard of ale. Ellyn stood. Her eyes were on the dancers and they sparkled with happiness. She wanted to join them but that would be pushing Armand’s patience and good will. Her hands were folded in front of her as she watched the dancing.

Many of the people from the royal table were on the floor. The women looked beautiful as they moved about. Ellyn noticed how many were the same age as she was and she wondered how long it would be before they too were forced to the sidelines by older husbands who had no interest in dancing or merriment that did not involve cards or drinking.

Her heart pounded and her eyes were filled with longing. To be allowed to dance, just once.... If Armand were a different sort of man, if their marriage one of feeling and respect it might be different. She watched couples move past her. It was everything she had hoped and a reminder of all she could never have. Despite the slight melancholy Ellyn did not take her eyes away knowing she could be dragged away at any moment.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne
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Ellyn was so caught up in the dancing, the swirling dresses and moving feet that she did not see the man approach. She was watching the couples move together and apart. Her eyes followed every nuance, every breath. She was barely able to keep her feet still her desire to be among them was so great but she did. A proper lady-wife would remain at her husband’s side if he chose to sit.

His voice made Ellyn jump. Armand was conflicted a moment seeing his wife’s reaction, he immediately thought her ill. Concerned he sat up straighter in his chair, nodded to Logaric and then eyed Ellyn.

For her part Ellyn recovered quickly though her confusion at the man’s presence was clear in her eyes. Armand eyed her as if weighing his options but then turned to look at Logaric. Ellyn feared the first words out of his mouth would be to excuse them from his presence and the hall.

Armand smiled at him, “Logaric, my how you have grown! It has been a great deal of time since I have visited your father. My business keeps me busy.”

Ellyn looked up at Logaric. He had a warm face, dark hair and grey eyes that twinkled with an energy she was unfamiliar with. She offered him a polite smile, his words overly complementary to her. Her cheeks warmed with a blush. She knew he and Armand were related, Logaric’s father a distant cousin but she had never met him.

Her heart skipped a beat. Dance? With me? Ellyn wanted to look up and thank Logaric but she kept her eyes now demurely on her lap. She had no way of knowing if Armand would grant Logaric’s request, had no idea why Logaric had asked but she knew with every fibre of her being that she wanted to dance. She wanted to be a part of the crowd.

A calloused hand appeared in front of her and Ellyn looked up at the smiling man. She found herself smiling back before shifting her eyes to her husband. In this moment he felt more like her father than the man she was married to. The contrast between Armand and Logaric was striking. Young sparkling eyes, warm smile and stance compared to the wrinkled face, dull eyes and polite smiles.

To be young and free... It was not the first time in the last couple of days that Ellyn had longed to be free of her marriage and it frightened her that those thoughts even existed. She was a good and proper wife, those thoughts were not acceptable and yet they were there.

Armand smiled at Logaric and then looked at Ellyn. His expression changed from cordial and friendly to concerned and reserved. “I do not know Master Falyn. As fair as my wife is and yes she is quite the jewel in my collection, she is also quite delicate in her constitution. I fear dancing may overtax her. I do not wish her ill for the remainder of our stay.” A thick finger tapped the arm of his chair.

Her heart was in her throat and her hands clenched in her lap until they were white knuckled. She never asked him for anything, never pined for finery and jewels or travels. Ellyn did whatever her husband wished of her and never argued but she had never wanted anything so much in her life.

Her mouth was dry as she dared to do something she had never attempted before.

“My lord husband, I would not wish to insult Master Falyn by refusing such a generous and sweet offer. Is there anything I could say to sway you in this?”

Ellyn dared on move fearing that anything more might push things out of her favour. Armand looked her in the eyes. Her large soft hazel eyes were unflinching under the gaze of his hard blue ones.

“One dance pet, so as not to insult our cousin. I do not wish you too tired to attend the Queen’s gathering in the morning.”

There was something about the way Armand was looking at her that made Ellyn want to cry. There was an almost pity for her there as if he was yielding because he feared this might be her only chance before she fainted dead at his feet. His tone was one that is used when granting a dying person their last request, as if pretending death is not waiting for them.

Something small changed in Ellyn. In that brief moment, in that breath the way Armand looked at her made her hate him.

“Thank you my lord.” Her tone betrayed nothing of her feelings.

“Be careful with my jewel please Logaric. She is a slight creature.”

Stop...just stop telling everyone how delicate and fragile I am! Her thoughts screamed at Armand though her face gave nothing away. Gently she laid her hand in Logaric’s offered one. “My Lord Falyn.” Ellyn stood gracefully and let Logaric lead her to the floor.
Armand remained seated and his eyes were on the pair. He seemed to be watching his wife for signs of distress.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Sir Sedwiff Falyn Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Amara Dorian Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne
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Logaric clasped Ellyn's small hand softly and stepped lithely into the twirling mass of dancers.

His movements were measured as he led Ellyn into the fray, gauging her skill and ability as a dancer. Preparing to adjust himself accordingly.

"I am ashamed to say it, but I almost do not recognize with that wondrous smile on your lips." Logaric lifted their hands above her head, lightly turning her underneath the faux arch. "Even as a boy concerned with other things, I think I would remember a smile like yours quite clearly."

She stepped onto the floor, into the mass of people with Logaric and was immediately swept away. There were so many people, so many smiles and the music. Ellyn had been caught up simply sitting on the sidelines but to be in the middle of it all she feared she might truly be overwhelmed, though not in the way Armand worried. She was worried she might miss something and this could very well be the only dance of her entire life.

Logaric proved to be a good partner. Ellyn did her best to keep up but he seemed to read her very well. She had been taught to dance but this was the first time other than lessons that it was put into practical use.

Ellyn's eyes dropped demurely, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks as Logaric complimented her smile. "No,my Lord Falyn you would not remember me."

She twirled smoothly under their stretched arms. Under his guidance Ellyn found her footing quite quickly. "You have been away and your cousin has not had time to visit his family. Our marriage was arranged five years ago and business has kept him busy and at home."

The music kept them moving, Ellyn letting Logaric move her around the floor. "I have heard a great deal about you, of course."

Her heart was pounding with the thrill of it all and Ellyn was positive she had never smiled so much since her childhood.

She looked up at the taller man, "You are very kind to ask for a dance. It is appreciated my lord."

Logaric smiled down Ellyn, a little color coming into his cheeks, "You can't believe everything you hear."

They passed Amara and Sedwiff closely, Logaric smiled at his brother and the Dorian lady with a nod. "I should thank you for deigning to dance with me. To be your first dance of the evening is a privilege I do cherish."

Logaric looked into Ellyn's hazel eyes for what he fear might be an improper amount of time. Breaking his gaze, the youngest Falyn glanced over her shoulder at the watching retinue of Davin. "M'lady, the song is nearing it's end and I must return you to your husband, my kinsman."

Ellyn was looking at Logaric though in her peripheral vision she could see a group of women gathering. Prince Davin had arrived and in typical fashion was gathering a crowd of admirers.

"I have heard only good things about you my lord. Fear not." They danced, passing the elder Falyn and the lady Dorian.

Ellyn noted the group's attention was on the pair but held her tongue. "You are my first dance ever Lord Falyn and you will be my only of the night. My husband does not dance and wishes to see me ushered off like a child so he may play cards."

It came out with slightly more bitterness than Ellyn had meant it to and her eyes dropped to Logaric's chest in embarrassment. He had been looking into her eyes. That combined with her words made her cheeks redden.

Ellyn took a few breathes and regaining her composure looked up again. Logaric was looking at the Prince and the women around him.

"Of course my lord. You should know that those women and the Prince are taking quite the interest in your brother and the lady Dorian. I do not know their intentions but I cannot believe that they will be all good."

Ellyn found herself surprised at her own boldness. Perhaps it was the dancing and being away from Armand that allowed the quiet woman to find her voice but she was glad she had said something. She was trained to watch, observe and listen. The Prince and his entourage were clearly taking far too much interest in the pair. Ellyn frowned, "You also seem to have an observer. One of the women seemed quite intent on you."

As the song wound down and they twirled once more Ellyn looked at her husband. No more was he staring at her and Logaric. Lord Bathem had come to sit nearby and the two men were in deep conversation. Both had full tankards in hand as well.
Ellyn sighed. She would return to his side only to be brushed away and ordered to bed. At least you got to finally dance A smile broke on her lips again. "Thank you for the wonderful dance lord Falyn."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Sir Sedwiff Falyn Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Amara Dorian Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne
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Sir Sedwiff was normally guarded at court functions, including dances, and never especially appeared to be enjoying himself. But during this dance, he was clearly changed. Servants who knew him turned their heads and watched him now. His carriage was different... he moved fluidly, with ease and even an improvised step. The man was inspired. Which only led them to believe that the catalyst was his partner, Lady Amara.

Sedwiff himself felt a lack of care for the people who moved in his periphery. He had his Falyn-patented grey gaze fixed on the Lady Dorian. He felt himself gravitating closer to her than the dance called for. He did not touch her anywhere else than her hand, as fine a hand as it was. There was a moment while Amara finished a twirl and his hand brushed her sleeve. As small as it was, it felt forbidden.

“Experienced?” Sedwiff replied to her comment as he revolved around her. Then the motions of the dance required him to move closer to face her, and he continued in a confidential voice: “I suppose I have as much experience as a trained bear. Between us, that is how I have thought of myself in this court.”

There was a weaving of steps which brought him away from her for a moment, and when he came to face her again he finished his thought. “Though having my Lady as a partner does liven the experience.”

At that time, he noticed the proximity of his brother, who was partnered with a very fine lady that Sedwiff did not recall seeing at a dance before. For a moment, Sedwiff was afflicted with the momentousness of passing his brother in a court dance. It felt strange and off-kilter, like he had been transported to a netherworld court where he and his brother could be together and it was permissible for him to dance with the heir of House Dorian. In short, it did not feel real.

But he gave his brother a nod, as if he was already accustomed to being reunited. And he turned back to Lady Amara as if it was perfectly natural for him to be in close proximity to the daughter of the enemy family.

Davin listened with half an ear to a lady who was describing a unique breed of deer that was found on her father’s estate. The other half of his attention was following the dance and wondering whom he could disparage of poor dancing ability. He cut off the deer woman curtly, and lent his ear instead to Lady Lyanne, who pointed out Lady Amara.

“Quite,” Davin frowned when he saw Amara’s partner. The sight of Sedwiff enjoying himself made Davin impossibly angry. An irracisble hot flush crawled from Davin’s neck to his temple. It was an emotion that had evolved from his childhood. He would positively explode whenever Sedwiff was given special treatment or was given a gift. When Sedwiff was seven he was given a little hobby horse, and it was nothing compared to Davin’s. But the young prince still had the compulsion to rip the toy’s glass eyes out.
Prince Davin masked his wrath behind a disdainful smirk. He looked a little beyond Sedwiff and picked out his brother Logaric to see if he had chosen an interesting dance partner. It was a lady that looked a little familiar, but Davin could not recall her name. He had met so many ladies that day, the lot of them overshadowed by their husbands, he could hardly keep track of them.

“I would say, the younger Falyn has better taste in partners,” Davin murmured out of the side of his mouth for Lady Lyanne’s benefit. “That lady is very fine.”

As he watched the lady dance, her name came to him. Lady Ellyn. He didn’t remember much else about her and was surprised that he could even recall her name. But she fascinated him at the moment.

He waited till the dance concluded to make his move. He walked straight towards Amara and Sedwiff. He halted before them as if he were going to say something. But the only sound that escaped him was a clearing of his throat, which signified them to move aside. He walked right between them like a wedge and made a beeline for Ellyn and Logaric. He heard Ellyn just as she was thanking Logaric for the dance. Her smile made him think of precious commodities.

“Logaric, good man, I do believe they should call you ‘the Dancing Lord,’” the prince quipped half-heartedly. Then he turned his attention to Ellyn and kept it there. “Lady Ellyn, would you honor me with the next dance?” It was perhaps the first earnest thing he had said all day.

Sedwiff stood a little distance from Amara, looking off in Davin’s direction. The prince’s literal separating of the two had given him a jolt, and made him see his interaction with Amara from the perspective of everyone else. He felt a slow chill creep inside him, like a poison. It was suspicion.

He turned back to Amara and now eyed her with distrust. It was not a wonder that he had been attracted to her at once, for she was a lively and beautiful woman. But what surprised him was the swiftness of emotional attachment.

He didn’t know her. What was more, it would be dangerous to know her. Not to mention that she could have all manner of ulterior motives that could put his family at risk and benefit her own. It seemed the most likely that she had designs to make him look the fool. He was already feeling like a fool.

“Your charms are strong, Lady Amara,” he uttered in a chilly voice. It was something that he did not mean to say aloud, but it somehow came out. He gave her a stiff bow, and then walked away. All joy in dancing was killed, all in the moment of Davin walking past him. Sedwiff strode past the other dancers and made to the hall to exit.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne
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Ellyn waited for Logaric to escort her back to Armand. Around them the other couples were preparing for the next dance, leaving the floor for a break or changing partners. She was still smiling.

It is wrong that I am so happy that my first and only dance of my life was not with my husband.

She felt alive and happy for the first time. There was a freedom on the dance floor with Logaric that she had never experienced. Ellyn wanted to thank him over and over again but knew it would be unseemly and unnecessary.

Her back was not fully to the approaching man but she did have to turn slightly to fully face him. Ellyn thought it might be someone coming to pull Logaric away into a game of cards or someone sent to fetch her for Armand. To her complete surprise the Stag Prince himself stood there. Her hand clenched involuntarily in Logaric's. Are we in his way? Have we offended him? Davin made no move to go past them. It appeared they were in fact his intended destination.

Her already doe-like eyes went wider, making her appear almost terrified in her shock. Ellyn remembered the way he had groaned and ignored their introductions that morning, how he had found the dog more fascinating than his arriving guests.

Prince Davin began speaking to Logaric. Ellyn dropped her hand from Logaric's. Her eyes were cast slightly downward out of respect as she waited patiently for the men to finish so that she could be returned to her husband. A slight glance in Armand’s direction found him in deep conversation still Lord Bathem.

Long lashes fluttered in confusion as she heard her name on the Prince’s lips. Ellyn raised her eyes to politely meet his. Her head tilted slightly, long hair shifting a little over her shoulder. Davin attention was solely on her. His eyes are hazel. Ellyn could not help but also notice the circles that rested under them as well.

“Yes of course my Lord Prince. The honour however is entirely mine.” Her voice only wavered a little but the low volume helped to hide it. She curtsied deeply, blue gown pooling at her feet. Dance? With me? Her actions hid her confused thoughts well.

She looked to Logaric, giving him a small curtsey. “Thank you again my lord.” She had no idea what Logaric was thinking at this moment.

Her eyes once again met Prince Davin’s. Her outward appearance was that of a perfect lady but inside she was a sea of confusion and fear. Ellyn dared not turn the Prince down, it would reflect badly on Armand. Surely her husband would not be upset with her for having a second dance considering it was Prince Davin. She could not however figure out ’why’ Davin had asked her. She was not anyone important and he had previously made it clear that he had no interest in her husband.

Even more puzzling was that Ellyn could find no hint of mockery or malice behind his offer. It was the thing that confused her even more than the offer itself. Davin was known for his jokes, his ploys and unpredictable behaviour. What could he want with me?

The musicians began to ready themselves for the next dance. Ellyn waited to see what the Prince would do, to see if he was as serious and sincere as he appeared. Something about that made her more nervous than the thought of him pulling some trick.

The music began and it was only then that Ellyn realized she had been looking at the Prince for a great deal of time. Her heart caught in her throat.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Logaric Falyn Character Portrait: Sir Sedwiff Falyn Character Portrait: Prince Davinweir the Stag Prince Character Portrait: Amara Dorian Character Portrait: Ellyn de Guilayne
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“Then it appears we make a pair of dancing bears my lord.” Amara quipped as Sedwiff lead her into another twirl. She could hardly believe his self-deprecations when before her eyes he danced with such grace. He was just being modest she decided, but she was enjoying herself too much at the moment to really care either way. This dance was notorious for the closeness it required of its dancing pairs, but even the dance with Sedwiff felt like they were touching a murky line, it was almost intimate. Perhaps it was because of this that Prince Davin’s interruption came as such a jolt. Dutifully, she and Sedwiff parted to let him through, though she gave him a sour look for his utter rudeness. She watched Davin approach Logaric, who was dancing with a young Lady she did not recognize, and hoped absently that he wasn’t planning anything cruel. The Lady the youngest Falyn was dancing with looked to be quite sweet if somewhat timid, and Amara did not care for the idea of Davin bullying her.

She turned back to Sedwiff to voice her concerns, but stopped abruptly when she saw his eyes. Amara had of course noticed the family resemblance between Sedwiff and his father, but for the first time in her mind, he really looked like Lord Marcus, and she took an involuntary half step back. In seconds, the charming almost playful man she had been dancing with had been transformed completely. His friendly manner was now gone, and the warm blue pools his eyes had resembled moments ago were now polished ice chips. The sudden change and his parting comment left Amara reeling with confusion, as she couldn’t quite grasp what exactly had just happened. What could have caused such a swift and total change?

“My, it appears Sir Sedwiff ran off in quite a hurry. He must have sampled something he found repulsive.” A voice crooned behind her, accompanied by a chorus of chortling. The voice was loud enough the half the hall could have heard, and Amara’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment from the poorly veiled insult. Amara turned to see the woman who made the comment, and spied her with a group of young courtly ladies who were standing on the edge of the dance floor. They had been farther away the last time she had noticed them, and surmised they must have followed Prince Davin when he’d stomped over. The blonde, who was still making rude comments, Amara recognized from dinner as Lady Lyanne Banifor, and therefore loyal to house Falyn. Shocked, confused, and now insulted, Amara was suddenly struck by a terrible thought. The timing of it all had been a little too convenient. Had Sedwiff just set her up to be humiliated in public? She didn’t wish to believe that of him, but then she didn’t really know him at all. Raised at court of not, Sedwiff was still a Falyn, and they were supposed to hate each other. Just because she’d allowed herself to forget that for a time didn’t mean he had. Perhaps it was for the best that they had put a stop to this now, though the sting she felt from his rejection made that little consolation.

Sedwiff Falyn had most certainly not been suffering from stomach cramps when he’d coldly brushed past her a moment ago, but Logaric was only trying to be polite, so she refrained from comment. Amara had just been publicly snubbed by one Falyn brother, the last thing she wanted to do was dance with the other, but it would reflect badly were she to refuse him, and she didn’t want to give Prince Davin the satisfaction of seeing her upset. So Amara took Logaric’s hand, ignoring the icy look sent her way by Lady Lyanne as he led them back into the fray for their second dance that night. This time around though, she felt wooden, her earlier thrill with dancing gone, leaving her feeling more tired than anything else.

“Yes. On a clear day the sky is so open and wide from the peak that you can see for miles in every direction.” Amara replied softly when Logaric asked about the tower, which held many darker memories she’d rather not relive. Once, when Amara was twelve and newly flowered, her uncle had brought foreign guests to see her. Prospective husbands he had called them, and all were old and wealthy with ships and controlling interest in several of the great port cities in the west. Her guests had inspected her thoroughly and done things that had made her want to curl up in a corner and die when they were through, and that was the first time Amara had truly realized what she was to her Uncle Lyle. Valueable livestock. Later the next day, she’d climbed to the top of the tower and watched the sky, wondering what it would be like to be a bird and have the freedom to fly as fast and as far away as she wanted. If she were to try to fly, would some passing god take pity on her and let her be a bird? One of the tower guards found her their hours later, perched on the ledge as she watched the sky, and Lyle had beaten her himself for even that small defiance.

“Tell me about one of the places you’ve traveled to. Someplace far away where it’s always warm.” Amara requested gently. She didn’t want to think about cold stone towers just then, and she’d noted that Logaric had a talent for storytelling. That, coupled with his easy and cheerful demeanor made for a story that was bound to be both captivating and distracting, which at the moment sounded very attractive.



In his youth, Marcus Falyn had been a man who dominated the room whenever there was dancing. He was still a primly cut man and quite spry for a man of his years, but now he preferred to watch his sons from the shadows. It was their turn to do the dancing, and his to watch and observe their enemies. For nearly two decades he had been dreaming of destroying those who had ripped away his oldest son and threatened the prosperity of his house, and the time was nearly upon them. Watching the Dorian girl dance, Marcus began to realize just how much like Cam this daughter, whom he'd never had the chance to know, really was. Though she looked like Alya, almost painfully so, the way she danced was too playful and intense to resemble her mother. Alya had always been a coy dancer, leading from behind while she let her partner think he was the one setting the pace. Cam had been a free spirit when he danced, jumping in head first with an almost reckless abandon that was so unlike him in almost all other things. Because of this contradictory resemblance, watching his son Sedwiff, who now so resembled Marcus in his youth, dance with her brought mixed emotions. Marcus was no fool, he saw the spark that was there between this girl and his son, and it could be dangerous, but perhaps also useful if handled the right way. He would have to explore that avenue later though, after he’d assessed exactly how attached his son was to this pretty Dorian girl. For a moment, he simply allowed himself to watch and be reminded of days where he was the one dancing, and the eyes of the raven beauty in his grasp a vibrant green instead of haunting violet.

Marcus allowed none of his anger to show when he watched the whelp of a prince interrupt his son in such a disrespectful way. His spies had kept him well appraised of the antagonistic relationship the younger prince had with his son, and he relished the thought of giving the chance to exact revenge tenfold on that one when the time came. For now though he watched as his son’s demeanor changed suddenly and dramatically after his encounter with the prince, and left his partner looking like she’d been slapped. He was surprised the look of hurt embarrassment that he watched sweep over her face did not please him more, but he decided to ponder upon it later as the Dorian girl took up dancing with his younger son. She no longer resembled Cam.

As Sedwiff headed for the exit, Marcus intercepted him in the dimly lit hall just outside the chamber where the dancing was being held. His face was serious, as it always was, but Marcus tried to project some fatherly warmth as well as he laid a hand on Sedwiff’s shoulder in an attempt to stay him. He owed his oldest that much and more. “If you leave now, the victory is his. You give him too much sway over your emotions, and so he controls you.” Marcus didn’t clarify who “he” was. His son would know exactly what he was talking of.