Merek steps into the Shrine of Gloria, and adjusts his cloak a bit, his weapons not peace-bonded in a place such as this. But all the same he moves to the sidelines to watch. The Guard looks around a bit, and seems to be deep in thought.

Mason and Lou show up just behind the A-Train. Safiyyah is not with them; she's still a bit young to be witnessing duels. At least, that's Mason's opinion. Mostly because back in his homeland it's likely Safi would have taken her first life by now, or so the rumors might go. He arrives hand-in-hand with his wife, whispering something funny--or ticklish!--in her ear as they arrive. His other hand waves at people.

There is no curry in sight.

Ailys had followed her brother into the shrine, her eyes look about before she nods her head to him taking a step back allowing him to move forward, she has a healing kit with her. her eyes move over to Aleksei and she inclines her head to him before she finds somewhere to sit.

Arriving with Ainsley's party, Cara is bundled up against the chill in a fuzzy wool cloak in warm cranberry red, hands tucked beneath it's comforting bulk to avoid having to chafe them to keep warm. She settles off to the side to watch, brows drawn down in a watchful concern.

Tikva wiggles her fingers in a wave in Cara's direction, from one former mini-Ashford to another ... former Ashford. She smiles and then scrubs the smile off her lips, turning her bright, curious gaze between Ainsley and Tristram.

"I know where to find you if you try to make off with it." says Ainsley, dryly toward Aleksei. He then steps toward Tristram, and gives a bow toward the man. "Prince Tristram. As you have no plate, let this be an armorless duel. To the first blood. A glance is given toward those gathered and then back to the other prince." An akward pause is given and asks, "Did you have someone you wished speak a prayer to the Sentinel or Gloria?"

Zhayla throws a wave at quite a few people that she recognizes more or less, but she keeps it small and tucked in against her side rather than flagging it eagerly over her head. She is being Low Key.

Saedrus arrives to the Shrine wrapped in a think white fur cloak, cold enough for the Southerner that the hood is drawn up. The courtesan glances over the crowd with a curious glance of evergreen eyes before Saed goes looking for somewhere out of the way to spectate.

6 Thrax Guards arrives, following Dagon.

Eirene is late! Clearly she rushed from the Velenosa duel, her scarf flapping behind her. Her black coat is unbuttoned as she enters the warmer temple, trying to catch her breath and a drink at the same time.

Infinitely too many people cluster together in the natural confines of the shrine, and clearly Lou practically vibrates with unease. Hood to her cloak raised, she can at least pretend to be a wood nymph dodging shavs in the forest or occasionally shooting them in the back from concealed perches. But this particularly lively affair, albeit thrilling for her kinsmen and women, constitutes a very special form of torture. At least Mason looks chuffed about the whole thing, curry or not. Her expression forms a stoic mask in the shadows under her cowl, and nobles have seemed less dignified marching off to war or confess the very worst of things to their mothers.

Aleksei snorts quietly at Ainsley. "I meant /combined/ with mine," he points out as he tucks the scabbard into his arms. This is his now. (Until Ainsley takes it back.) When Ainsley approaches Tristram, Aleksei makes his way over to stand by Killian. He keeps an eye on the two princes, but he speaks in a low undertone to the Ashford.

Cara drifts over to stand near Tikva, murmuring something to the lady while they watch the preparations.

Michael treads to the sideline and quietly trails to stand near the Grayson crew. His head cants to the side as a lopsided grin tugs at one edge of his mouth. His hands remain firmly at his sides as he continues to linger along the side to wait for the duel to begin.

Tristram looks to Ainsley and says, "I am glad to fight without armor, Prince Ainsley. Thank you." His voice sounds like it hasn't really been -used- for a few hours. "I have been praying here, to Gloria, for a while, now; so as not to dishonor myself, my family, you, or this place. Thank you for asking." With a pause, he adds: "Subsequent to the matter which brings us here, I have been made aware that other words I wrote gave offense to you. I did not mean them to give offense. I would like to offer my apology, in the event that something goes awry and I am unable to give it following the duel."

Tikva smiles with brilliant energy and nods, pushing up onto her knees so that she can converse (all be it quietly) across the disparity of their heights.

With the stiff movements of one recovering from an injury, Dagon makes his way to this -- the second duel of the day -- with his guardsmen on either side of him. So often lax in their defense of the Sword of Maelstrom, with him a little worse for wear, they take a very attentive nature -- especially in the crowd now. Dagon stays towards the back where he can watch the display in relative peace.

Unlike the previous evening's, erm... 'social occasion'... Princess Isabeau Valardin attends to bear witness amongst to a much more hostile undertaking amidst a throng of Graysons. She presents herself at the Shrine of Gloria dressed for the cold in her House's colors of blue and white and takes up the side that Tristram might be closest to, presumably to show support for her... cousin?

Saedrus pushes to his toes to peek over heads when he spies Eirene. No call, but he does lift a chilled hand and wriggles his fingers in greeting.

Cara is overheard praising Tristram for: Honorable words at an honorable duel!

It's clear that by "goes awry" he basically means "if he gets his ass killed."

Eirene glances at Dagon, as they fairly well traveled alongside if not together. She sees the signs of injury and asks, "Have your healers looked at you wounds?" But Saedrus is given a quick wiggle of her flask as she drinks. "And dumbass, why do you think I'm here," she says with a scowl to Tristram. "Unless you are fighting to the death, you'll be fine."

Mason looks kind of like he wants to start chanting, but he stays quiet. His people's ways are not these people's ways, or something. He squeezes Lou's hand to make her feel more comfortable. Unlikely, though.

Ainsley's eyebrows draw together for a moment and he says, "Words?" A pause is given and he says, "Oh." He looks like he struggles for a moment and he says, evenly, "I accept your apologies, Prince Tristram." A pause is given and he looks around those who are gathered and ... oh look, Killian. He gestures toward the Ashford and asks, "Lord Ashford, would you... Do you think with your sister's ... Would you be able to open us with a prayer to the Sentinel? I am sure that once that is done both Prince Tristram and I can speak words to Gloria. But we must also be respectful to the Sentinel."

"They have," Dagon tells Eirene, his voice a low nod, and his nod polite and grateful for her attention when it comes. "It was infected on the road back from Bastion. Slow healing -- but they tell me I'll survive." His hand skirts along his belly, just underneath his rib cage.

Zhayla gives a little wave to someone, and some of her stiffness fades in a quick grin following that. She leans forward, drawing her feet up cross-legged beneath her and resting her elbows on her knees. She listens to Ainsley and Tristram in turn, a bit wide-eyed. Maybe she'll learn how to pray finally.

As she takes another drink, Eirene nods back to Dagon. "Infections can turn nasty if not carefully treated. Send for me if the wound continues to fester," she says automatically, treating him like any other patient. "With the siege coming, I'd prefer every fighting man at his best."

Tikva drops back in her perch on her calves, her hands bracing against her thighs as her split skirts fall from her hips. She cants her head slightly to one side, her gaze lifting toward Killian as Ainsley plucks him from the masses and throws the mantle of prayer on him.

Amongst the many gathering, Lou's attention snaps briefly to Dagon and a gaggle of guardsmen following the ducal gander. Her eyes narrow a fraction, far more speculative than hostile in any sense. A subtle squeeze to her fingers permits a delicate reminder, and she gives a look askance to her husband. Dark brows take heightened wing, an inquiry written plainly over her face. The soft murmur between them isn't likely audible to anyone else.

Tristram follows Ainsley's gaze to Killian, hopefully. It's obvious he approves of Ainsley's choice to lead the prayer.

10 King's Own Guardsmen arrives, following Gabriel.

Merek continues with his observances, for the time being, his curious gaze upon Tristram and Ainsley. He remains a respectable distance into the back of the crowds, so he can just watch.

Merek has joined the Shrine.

Eirene has joined the Firepit.

"Thank you, Lady Malvici," Dagon offers Eirene a soft smile, but his attention is momentarily stolen by Zhayla. He gestures for her to come closer to him, to watch the duel -- but he's already going that way. Upon meeting her, he leans in to whisper some private words.

Eirene nods back to the Thracian before becoming the fur clad Whisper to her side at the fire pit. "Come warm up Saedrus, Damn winter cold..."

Killian gives a little start, obviously not having expected to be called upon..but gives a nod, still fully armored and with his helm and visor down. "I am not certain that relation is relevant, but I shall offer an earnest prayer on your behalf," he assures as he steps forward from where he was lurking at the back with Aleksei. Without any particular preamble he draws his blade, reverses it sinks to one knee, bowing his head against the crossguard of the sword. "We call upon The Silent Watcher to draw its gaze upon this place, and upon these men who stand ready to be judged upon this evening. In the gaze of the Faceless God, we are all of us equal, that justice may be the only measure of our worth. Let us then bear witness, as Sentinel reaches forth to guard the righteous in this test, and when the test is finished may we all recognize that the will of the Gods is done and the matter settled, that we may once again be united in cause and purpose." So saying, he stands once again, before sheathing his blade.

Ainsley is overheard praising Killian.

No sweeter words had ever been said, by Eirene about fire. And Saedrus follows the woman's lead to the fire pit tugging the cloak a little more tightly about his shoulders as he does.

Tristram is overheard praising Killian.

"The Sentinel watches us all," Tikva murmurs in a quiet followup benediction in the wake of Killian's prayer. She's /that/ person in the back of the room, clearly.

Zhayla answers Dagon in a similar undertone, but the enthusiasm which lights her voices and expression means that enough of her words and tone spills out to make it clear that she is congratulating him. Enthusiastically. This is still Zhayla being low key. She quiets as Killian steps forward, and her brow furrows: she is clearly taking mental notes on how to pray.

Ainsley dips his chin respectfully, murmuring, "The Sentinel watch us all." In a benediction that echoes Tikva's own. Afterward he places his hand onto the pommel of his steel sword, turning to face Tristram. "Before I straw my blade, I lift my voice to Gloria, she of honorable and chivralous combat. May she guide my heart, my not made. May she lead me to honor, not to victory."

Isabeau is overheard praising Killian.

Eirene falls into a parade rest, hands with flask at the small of her back. After the prayer is issued and Ainsley invoked the Lady of War, she gives a nod and takes another tipple. The flask is offered to Saedrus with a raise of her dark brows.

Samantha has some time to spare before her pending appointment, and so she has appeared to show her support for her childhood friend. She looks around primarily to see where Aleksei's parked himself, or if he's going to be in the thick of it.

There's the sound of steel that heralds the King's Own, ten knights in gleaming suits that stride towards the shrine. Gabriel striding in the midst of them, five before and five behind him. The pelt of a eurusi lion draped over his shoulders against the winter cold, his expression stoic and formal as always. A hand resting habitually upon the pommel of the gilded sword at his side.

Aleksei watches Ainsley and Tristram as they begin speaking, although his attention does draw away to Killian when the Ashford steps forward to offer a prayer. He's parked on the sidelines, it seems, and is actually holding onto Ainsley's alaricite sword Threnody for the time being.

Dagon nods his thanks to Zhayla, and then turns to watch the prayers -- his own stance mimicking Eirene's in a light military rest.

Ailys finds a place to sit, to watch and listen, she looks to Tristram and her eyes go down a moment as she enters a small prayer of her own.

"I offer my services as a healer," says Eirene, her black leather clothes adorned with the flames of Lagoma- but not quite. The sword at her hip announces she is no Mercy. "'May, uhhh Lagoma grant growth and wisdom come from this exchange." She has no clue what she's saying but it seems right.

Well, only for a minutes that is. Dagon is accosted by a messenger, and then he and his entourage are going away, with a little wave of farewell to Zhayla and a whispered word...

Killian withdraws back to the sidelines when he's done praying, and might look relieved to be out of the attention..if not for the fact that he's got his helmet on and visor down. Hard to tell much about a man in such a condition.

6 Thrax Guards leaves, following Dagon.

Saedrus shakes his head softly to Eirene when she offers up the flask and mouths a soft, 'thank you' for the offer. Instead Saed huddles himself near the firepit and rests out his hands to the warmth as Eirene speaks, he smiles across his shoulder to her, "well said, Lady Eirene." Nailed it.

Sparte is at the back of the crowd, watching things happen curiously.

    Tristram closes his eyes as well, and says, "The Sentinel watches us all," along with the others. Following this, he turns to face Ainsley and says: "O Gloria, let me neither fail You, nor Prince Ainsley, nor my family in this contest of honor. Let this contest serve to bring peace and honor between us." He turns to a bundle near the shrine and removes an arming sword with sapphire and white leather wrapped around its grip; exceptionally-crafted steel which would be identifiable to those who know him as belonging to Prince Edain. He puts on the swordbelt and places his hand on the pommel, waiting.

Tristram gets regal Valardin winter knight's oathlands steel arming sword from an ebony leather satchel.

Ainsley wields Grayward, a steel longsword.

Tristram wields regal Valardin winter knight's oathlands steel arming sword.

Eirene mutters softly to the Whisper as she takes another drink.

Saedrus head remains attentively towards the duelists, though his head tips towards Eirene as he speaks softly to her.

Samantha manages to wend her way over to Aleksei, and moves to take a spot next to him. "I heard you were going to fight." Samantha murmurs, adding, "I suppose your pectorals and Ainsley's are comparably excellent, but he doesn't quite have your panache." No really, she IS supporting Ainsely, she swears.

Ailys looks to the Lady Eirene Malvici, "I too have skill as a Physician I will like to help as well with the wounds." she says as she smiles as she taps her fingers on her first aid kit.

Ainsley dips his chin toward Tristram and unsnaps the belt over the hilt of his sword, and pulls the high quality steel free. The blade is exceptionally sharp looking. His focus on Tristram now, rather than any one else. His lips curl upward and he advances on the man, blade raised; body in a stance that is halfway between aggressive and defensive.

Tristram, for his part, nods to Ainsley and removes the blade from its sheathe. With a calm peaceful look on his face, he advances towards Ainsley, on the balls of his feet.

Ainsley inflicts serious damage to Tristram.

When Zhayla spots Samantha, she sips from her perch to slide over toward her. After seeing her settle in near Aleksei, she pauses just a moment. It's fairly clear by the way she looks between them that she is just making sure she's not going to be ruining anything if she heads over there.

Eirene takes another drink as she continues to converse quietly with Saedrus, eyes on the fighters. She nods to Aliys and responds, "If they go beyond First Blood or have any mishaps, go head."

Merek takes out a flask, and sips it, while he watches the two advance on one another, waiting to see if blood will be shed on the first pass.

Cara nibbles on her lower lip as she watches, stomping her feet carefully to keep them warm, and lets out a sigh as the duel begins.

Samantha flashes a smile at Zhayla, friendly and welcoming, and seems inclined to settle into a quiet conversation with the man she's placed herself near.

Aleksei snorts lightly at Samantha's words as she settles in near him, lowering his voice to reply to her. He does offer a bright smile to Zhayla when she looks his way, and it's far from unwelcoming.

The duel is not a long one-- Tristram advances on Ainsley and the Grayson prince ducks under the swing, coming around behind Tristram, and swinging Grayward up in an arch and slashing across the dark purple of the Valardin prince's tunic, cutting a gash across it and allowing a splatter of red blood spraying over Ainsley's black wool tunic.

An almost feral grin crosses Ainsley's face, but he immediately steps away from Tristram, pointing his now bloodied blade to the ground. A single breath is taken.

Killian glances over at Samantha when she ends up near he and Aleksei, but makes no commentary, eyes back on the duel just in the nick of time for the nicking.

Welcome washes over Zhayla with transparent relief, and she settles near Samantha and Aleksei without trying to intrude in their conversation. She seems content to be nearby, and to watch the duel. She draws a sharp breath when Ainsley's sword immediately seeks blood.

Saedrus lifts his head and pushes to his toes as the duel starts, evergreens watching Ainsley and Tristram curiously. On occasion though he does drop from his toes, head turned a touch to speak with Eirene. Looking back when first blood is drawn and Saedrus lips purse softly.

Isabeau has adopted a carefully calculated calm, watching while the duel ensues, doing her damnedest neither to wince nor to fret her brow when Tristram's blood is drawn first. At least the matter can now be settled, such as it is, and everyone's honor is satisfied. Gloria be praised!

Tikva rises from her perch on the floor, bare feet sliding against the cool stone beneath. "Gloria's will is clear," she says quietly, dipping her head as her short red hair falls forward around her jaw, and then she straightens. She tips a faint smile up in Cara's direction.

Michael casts Samantha his trademarked crooked grin as she moves to stand next to Aleksei. His arms cross over his chest. He nods lightly when the duel is so quickly finished.

Having found his place by the shrine, Gabriel breathes out a mist as he watches the short bout that takes place, a faint wrinkling of his nose. He turns to share a few words with one of the knights, a woman looking to be the officer among them by her attire. There's little in the way of surprise to him as Ainsley draws first blood.

Merek watches as the blood is spilled, and then his gaze is upon Tristram after Ainsley steps back.

Eirene lifts her flask in toast as Ainsley draws blood and signals it's over. She drinks before letting out a little sigh, still speaking softly and grimly to Saedrus.

    Tristram's not a good swordsman and never claimed to be, but he does his best to strike his opponent--though Prince Ainsley nimbly dodges away. And as the return strike comes in, well--Tristram might be deft in dodging blows when he's carrying a bow, but on this day, Ainsley's skill prevails and his blow strikes true. A breath sucked between his teeth at the sting of the cut, and Tristram steps back, raising the arming sword in silent salute to his opponent then sheathing it as he steps back and bows stiffly.

The stiffness coming from the fact that he has a giant slash along his chest, not out of any other reaction.

Aleksei's brows sweep up when the fight seems to end so swiftly. His lips curve into a clearly approving look for the outcome.

"Well-fought," calls Cara, "And praise be to Gloria!"

Ainsley flicks the blood off of his blade, and then pulls a hankercheif from his pocket to wipe the rest of the blood clean before sheathing the steel blade. A bown is given then toward Tristram in return. "As witnessed by peers and kin; the will of the Gods is clear."

He toes hold a hand out toward Tristram-- to give the man warrior's clasp, "This matter between us is settled. You were honorable and brave to face me, given your talents lay in archery and mine in the blade. I believe Gloria would be proud of this duel." And then he echoes Cara, "Praise be to Gloria!"

Eirene tips her flask to Ainsley and Tristram before taking a long pull off it. And another. And a third for good measure. It looks as if she may be out. "Good quick bout. You okay. Tris? He nick any arteries?" She's joking. It'd be obvious if he had.

Ailys stands and she moves over to her brother before she watches her brother and she gives a little nod to him before she turns to Tristam and looks to see if the other healer is tending him.

Tikva has left the Shrine.

And whatever Eirene -had- been drinking gets released in a spit take. "What?" She stares at Saedrus in something akin to shock.

Killian pushes away from the wall, "The gods do seem to have favored a fast resolution of this matter," he agrees in a general sort of way, his voice deadpan.

"Praise be the Gloria," Aleksei agrees, his words warm-humored. He waits for Ainsley to finish up and come retrieve his sword.

Already standing, Tikva sidles across the space of the shrine to tip a crooked smile towards the little gathering around Samantha, as her liege lady, and wiggles her fingers in a little wave rather than charging up to crash them. Wiggle-hi. She shares out her smile between Aleksei and Zhayla, too, as acquaintances as they are.

Saedrus clears his throat delicately and looks away towards the commotion of the duelists rather than Eirene for the moment.

Tristram takes the man's arm heartily, and actually smiles softly. "Aye, Prince Ainsley, this matter is settled in Gloria's eyes and those of the world. Praise be to Gloria!" He looks to Eirene and says, "I'm not going to bleed to death--His Highness is deft with a blade in a duel, and did no permanent harm. Doesn't mean I wouldn't mind a bit of salve." Then back to Ainsley: "I propose a vow, Prince Ainsley, that the next time we raise our blades--or in my case, my bow--instead of it being against a fellow Arxian, they end a Bringer or twelve."

Ainsley gives a firm grip to Tristram's arm, before pulling away. A tilt of his head is given and he says, amusedly, "That would mean no sparring, Prince Tristram. But I take your meaning." He shifts toward his sister and places a hand onto Ailys' shoulder gently saying, "My sister is a skilled physician, and kind hearted, I'm sure she can help you with your cut." And then, he turns toward the gathered crowd and -- oh hey -- "Lady Physician, what do you have in that flask?" He asks of Eirene. Though his feet carry him toward Aleksei to retrieve Threnody.

1 Grayson Guardsmen, Mason leave, following Lou.

"Indeed!" Samantha crows with evident pleasure, and then, "Ah, that's important. Good." An obscure comment to something Aleksei says to her. Michael and Tikva are greeted with wriggles of her fingers in turn, and she lets out a breath in relief.

Eirene turns it upside down to demonstrate "Nothing now. And gods could I use a drink." Not that she hasn't been drinking through the whole fight. She gives Ailys a nod as Ainsley brings her up, figuring it's all in the spirit of good sportsmanship.

Bianca stepped up to the shrine grounds, a quick glance tossed about to gauge those present and if she'd missed the entirety of the event. Looks like she did! In any case, cloak was pulled a bit more tightly about herself before steps led her deeper past the threshold and under the shelter of shrine's roofing.

Zhayla finger-wiggles back in Tikva's direction with a quick grin and then watches as things wrap up more or less in friendly fashion. She leans over to say something to Aleksei about it, the words carrying to Samantha and perhaps others just nearby: "What do we do if they keep fighting their own duels and then make friends? Champions out of work forever?"

Hadrian enters almost solemnly, sans grin and theatrics, but no less calculating in his stare as it sweeps the gathered. Then Duke Southport is cutting a swift path toward Eirene.

Aleksei hands over Threnody when Ainsley approaches. "I feel much better now," he tells him soberly. "Properly poor." No mind the alaricite blade on his /own/ swordbelt. He shakes his head sadly to Zhayla. "I dunno. It really is pretty tragic."

"My apologises for the waste," Saedrus adds gently to Eirene for what she spat out, not realising it was the last. "I should have waited until you had finished. Perhaps we could go somewhere warm, and I can make up for the lost whiskey?" He asks though evergreen eyes cast off briefly towards Ainsley. Distracted soon enough by Hadrian's arrival, and Saed bows gracefully in greeting, "Duke Hadrian."

Ailys smiles to her brother and then she moves closer to the prince who her brother cut. She moves up next to him and she begins to clean and bandage the wound. She works with a light touch her fingers to the flesh as she nods her head to the prince. She huddles over him to administer any small stiches he might need and then dresses it. "Are you feeling alright your Highness?" she asks him.

Eirene stands with Saedrus near the fire pit for warmth, the black and white haired woman lamenting an empty flask and tucking it into a coat pocket. "Hadrian. I was about to head back now that this is over." She nods at the two combatants.

Ainsley belts Threnody back to his waist, looking a little bit relieved. A laugh is given to Eirene and he says, "That's a shame." A glance is given Saedrus' way and he says, "Oh, it's your fault?" He clucks his tongue and he says, "Well there is Badger in the Grayson District, that all are welcome to join us for drinks."

Killian looks around and, seeing as things are all tidied up and settled, he gives Aleksei a nod, "I'll be in touch..my thanks.." he says without any real explanation for what it is he means, before he turns and heads for the exit from the shrine, his manner sober and quiet as he walks out of the shrine.

"I promise you my custom if ever I should have cause," Tikva says with a laugh on her breath as she glances between the pair of Champions. "Although-- I think I already told at least one of you that." Resting her weight on her bare heels, she rakes a hand back through the bright fluff of her hair and looks up at Ainsley. "And if we all get drunk. Maybe there will be another challenge!" she carols, easily.

Sparte continues to hang in the back, just watching and trying to take in what is going on.

Tristram looks around, with a smile, and says, "Good point; I forgot about the sparring!" A grin, and then to Ailys, "Thank you, Princess Ailys, I'm in your debt. You have quite the light touch." He looks to Isabeau and says, happily, "Thanks for coming, cousin!"

Samantha quietly offers her congratulations to Ainsley, then slips out.

Merek turns around after a bit, and with a swish of his cloak, he moves towards the exit, bowing and inclining to those in the direct path out of respect.

Merek has left the Shrine.

Pleased with the outcome, Michael nods once, wholly content. His weight shifts from one foot to the other before he heads to the exit.

Hadrian lifts a finely gloved hand in signal for Saedrus not to need bow, offering his return of, "Looking temptatious as ever, Saedrus." Gaze slides toward his aunt, and he rolls a shoulder, "I didn't want to remain alone lest my mind sour what remains of my good mood."

Aleksei steps closer to Ainsley as the prince belts his sword back on, his voice lowering for a moment as he says something to him in a quieter tone.

Merek is however still there, he doesn't reach the exit yet.

Saedrus dips his head to Ainsley, "it was merely something said, and poor timing. Thank you for the offer, frankly anywhere warm would be divine." The courtesan says with a smile to Ainsley before he looks back to Hadrian and Eirene. "Thank you, Duke Hadrian, very kind."

Eirene slips one arm through the crook of Hadrian's arm and the other through Saedrus'. "Shall we go to the Badger for post duel drinks then? I'll stand a round."

Ailys smiles "drink lots of water with your wine tonight your highness." she smiles as she raises up and she looks for Ainsley, she begins to walk back to her brother.

Bianca was en route to Merek, intercepting the man before he could exit in full. A smile was on her lips, "Master Black, how fortuitous. I had intended to contact you after the duel. Perhaps you can fill me in on the details of the event while we chat?"

Whisper the Snowy Owl, Frostbite the Direwolf leave, following Killian.

Ainsley flashes Saedrus a grin, "I'd give my coat but I left it at home." He rubs a hand over his wool tunic and says, "You can have my shirt if you want." His attention shifts toward Aleksei, however, and his expression sobers immediately. A small nod of his head is given and he lowers his voice to speak to Aleksei once more, his gaze going to his little sister, and then skidding off of her to look around the room. All at once his expression crumbles and he press his palms to his face, shoulders shaking.

Merek moves closer to Bianca, and inclines, "Archscholar... Well, there were prayers to Sentinel and Gloria. Then Prince Ainsley did a backslash and drew first blood on the first pass," he mentions, while he moves with the woman.

Eirene has enough tact to murmur to the two Southerners, "Maybe we should just go home..." she frowns as Ainsley breaks down. Not harshly though.

Aleksei blinks in a sudden startle at Ainsley's reaction -- not his quiet reply, but the way his expression crumbles afterwards. "Hey," he says, stepping closer and setting a hand on the man's shoulder. His voice drops again for a few quick, urgent words.

Merek also seems perplexed as he looks back to Ainsley.

"Oh! Do you need a coat?" Tikva looks from Ainsley, her gaze pausing -- briefly uncertain and worried -- on him for his emotional reaction to -- what? She doesn't know. Glancing to Saedrus, she reaches up to unhook the clasp of her cloak. "You can use my fur cloak. It's not that cold for me today, compared to a stiff Brighthold wind, and my dress is warm."

Ainsley scrubs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath, letting it out again. "I'm fine. I'm fine." A shake of his head is given and he says, "Drinks! Drinks are on me, at the Badger." He smiles again, whatever sorrow passed through him being pushed away.