The great hall is filled with more people than usual. Guards stand at the doors in and out the estate, providing watchful eyes, while the rest of the household seems to have gathered here. Still, for as many people are gathered in the room, there seems to be a damper on the activity. Most people talk in hushed whispers, waiting for the news. Lydia has staked out a spot by the Hall's fireplace, with a cushioned chair pulled up for her there as she alternates watching the flames and eyeing the door, with only half attention paid to the story being told.

Mydas enters in time to hear of the report of the Bringers' army advance. And the crosses they bear. "The men and women at the gate will hold." The golden-eyed man's deep voice easily goes through the entire Hall as he steps closer to his cousin. "It was a good idea, to hold this Vigil." he smiles at Lydia. "I'm afraid I haven't seen you half as much as you deserved these last few days. I apologize."

Waiting with others is certainly preferrable to waiting by one's self. Belladonna is dressed down a fair amount and bundled up quite warmly, though not quite warmly enough that she's willing to linger overlong outside while part of her escort finishes smoking that cigarello of his. Pfft. Her other guards fade away from her side when she's passed into the more heavily guarded manor, present but not hovering. It doesn't take long for her to spot Lydia, and once she's handed her cloak off somewhere (she's keeping that canvas bag, strap slung over her shoulder) she heads in her sister-in-law's direction.

Samantha is dressed rather down - almost like a servant, a kerchief used to tie up her hair and wrap it back. She seems a bit speculative about being here. She has refugees at her manor as it is, and a part of her feels like she should be there. But she offers Lydia a brief curtsy before she looks about, seeking some way to be useful.

Lydia smiles to her cousin the first arrival. "We've all been busy." She murmurs softly to him, her voice as apologetic as his is. Then Bella enters, and Lydia rises up out of her chair, moving to greet her sister-in-law, "Belladonna! Oh, thank you for coming and keeping me company. Come. Sit. I assume that you've seen Cassius off?" She begins to guide Bella towards the fire as well, and as she turns, she spots Samantha, and motions to the woman. "Marquessa. You've finally come to our house! Please, join us by the fire? Things won't seem as cold there."

Samantha looks a little befuddled. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, I thought this was going to be more of a volunteering sort of circumstance. Minding refugees and the like." She walks over to the fire, but doesn't sit quite yet, instead studying it, eyes askance at the distant sound of drums.

"All too true." Mydas smiles slightly before turning to see the newcomers, Belladonna and Samantha. "Ladies, welcome. There's whiskey, should you feel inclined." He motions towards the bottles of whiskey. Did they forget to take it out? Oh well, Vigil with drinks, what could go wrong. "Others are soon to come, I assume, never fear, Marquessa."

"Some time ago," is Belladonna's quiet response; she reaches to try and squeeze Lydia's upper arms with her hands as she leans in to kiss cheeks, and then she's rather easily shuffled towards the fire. There's a polite nod for Samantha, her chin coming up as she stares at nothing, also listening to the drums. Mydas's words earn him a smile, and she nods her agreement for his response to Samantha's words. She doesn't quite sit down either, turning back to look towards the doors she came in through, clearly seeking. "Lord Mydas. It is good to see you."

Of course there's alcohol. They're northerners. There's always alcohol.

With a heavy-footed step, Alrec enters the dining hall, rubbing his hands together as though fighting off the remnants of a chill. He's been outside without gloves, and the cloying scent of cherry mixed with tobacco is present on him to betray what had him lingering out there while his liege has already gotten settled. He gives the fine spread a cursory once over, and though the various liquor, not to mention fine pastries draw the eye for a moment longer than it should, he is soon honing in on Belladonna.

Valencia ghosts into the room on small booted feet. She offers a gentle smile of thanks and greeting to Lydia as she arrives and then turns to offer silent greeting to the others gathered there.

"And you, Duchess Belladonna." Mydas bows gallantly, though despite the seeming formality, his smile is friendly. "I'm glad to see that you took Lydia up on her invitation." Golden eyes do catch sight of Alrec, and the longing look he gave the pastries. "They /are/ there to be eaten." he grins. He then greets Valencia with a respectful inclination of his head. "Your Highness, welcome. It is good to see you. Please, make yourself at home. That goes for all gathered here."

Lydia leans in to return the kisses to Belladonna, although it's without her usual exuberance. Soon, she's settling back down in her seat by the fire, and picking up a cup of clear liquid that she left behind earlier. "Mydas is right. Refugees will come in soon enough, until then, Marquessa, I donated some linens for bandages if you wanted to help tear them? And, maybe while you do, a drink? I always handle things better with a drink." Her eyes then dart towards the newcomers, "Princess Valencia! Do you bring any news with you?"

Mydas drops a small pot of tin, filled with some thick brownish-greenish paste.

"Of course." Samanta replies to Lydia, and inclines her head politely to Mydas. "It's hard not to feel like I should be present for the refugees on my back acreage. No doubt they're frightened. If it comes to it I might have to leave." Samantha explains. But she does finally take a seat.

"I don't know how long I'll be able to bring myself to stay," Belladonna answers Mydas with a wry smile, some touch of relief crossing her expression when she catches sight of Alrec. There is a polite nod for Valencia as she approaches, though the little Duchess doesn't greet her. "But -- thank you, Duchess Lydia, I do appreciate your invitation. I have been...a bit restless." She shifts on her feet for another moment before she does eventually move to settle down near to where Lydia sits.

"Thank you, Lord Mydas. I may not be able to stay long, but I wanted to offer my assistance to Duchess Lydia," Valencia say quietly, the usual brightness and joy gone. Turning she shakes her head, "Not that I now of. They are hear and it is simple as that. I can seek more information if it pleases you," she offers moving to the table to for now assist with Lydia's request to help tear bandages.

"Stay as long or as little as you might need. We all must do our parts, whether here or back to your respective homesteads." Mydas smiles. "Should duty call, none of us would be remiss if you left." he assures. He glances back towards the doors as a new report comes in. He doesn't speak up, merely listens to the description of the events.

Lydia lets other people do the work of prepping bandages or getting food or laying out beds. She just sits in her chair by the fire, delicate hands wrapped around a cup and letting her fingers drum the sides when she's not talking. "I understand the restlessness. It's times like these that I wish I /were/ a fighter, and I could be with them. It must be horrid, but I hate not knowing what's going on..."

Let it not be said that Alrec is not polite, or at least he attempts to be. "My Lord," he greets Mydas, his head bowing in a deep, respectful manner before his eyes slide toward the indicated pastries once more. "I may have to acquire one, but not too many, for it may interrupt my duties otherwise." He pats his stomach in indication, winks, and deftly moves to take his place somewhat to the side, and if possible behind, where Belladonna sits. His spine remains straight and he squares his shoulders, falling into an easy 'at rest' position. His eyes move to Lydia and he inclines his head deeply toward her, respectful, but not seeking to interrupt her conversation. Similarly Valencia receives a humble greeting in kind.

Samantha's expression becomes especially strained at the most recent news. Michael Bisland, her foster brother. Silas Mercier, her friend since childhood. Wordlessly she plucks up some of the linen and begins tearing snips with smooth efficiency.

"Of course, far be it from me to encourage excess." Mydas grins to Alrec before yet another report comes in, this one of a strange mist. His lips press in a line... and he goes straight for the whiskey bottles, pouring himself a cup. "Anyone else wants one?" He glances towards Samantha. "Will you need some for those bandages?" He dimly remembers a medic using alcohol on those before, but never quite learned if it was necessary or not.

Valencia 's hands work quickly, quietly rending at the fabric and laying the torn sheets into a neat stack, dark eyes down on her work, glancing up from time to time at the door or at some place or another in the room. Another small stack stack complete she offers, "I can go to clear some stock from the Hart should you need more, Lord Mydas. The staff has been sent home to be with their families, but I am sure I can manage a case by myself. Would this assist?"

"That would be wasteful." Samantha says with a gentle smile. "Hot water will serve the purpose just as well. I'd hate to part anyone from some badly needed liquid courage." A nod is offered to Valencia, and Samantha lets the rhythm of the work provide some distraction.

There's a little smile for Alrec's arrival and his words, and she dips her head to him in acknowledgment. Belladonna's smile fades for the next bit of news that they receive, and she draws in a breath and holds it for a moment, shoulders briefly curling inwards. The others are watched for a long moment before she gives a little shake of her head, slipping from the couch to kneel in front of the fire, bow her head, and apparently start to pray.

"I need another cup!" Lydia bounces up from her chair again, as if glad enough for the excuse to get up, and moves over to the sideboard to grab the drink. Her head then swivels back towards Belladonna and the man withher, "Aaaaannnd....I heard something about a pastry, yes? We /need/ pastries. Sugar and drinks, that is what tonight calls for!"

Lydia's almost too energetic, clearly overcompensating for the tenseness. She pauses though, as a man enters and hands her a paper, which she opens and reads and then moves closer to the nobles to share loud enough so that they can hear, but not loud enough to start all the commoners, "Word from the gates is that the Valardin cavalry was destroyed when they approached the bringers ...turned to dust..." her brows knit together and she chews on her lip after sharing this.

Mydas shakes his head. "Nightgold has plenty of whiskey, on account of us being producers, but..." He listens to Samantha'S response. "Hot water, then. If you're willing, Your Highness, and if the Hart has available water supplies, then it wouldn't be remiss. I'll go and prepare some water, if you'll excuse me." And he steps away for a moment.

Alrec's lips twitch mildly in response to Mydas' prior words to him, but otherwise Alrec is adopting a look forward, a thousand-yard stare, and is taking on the role of one who is seen but not heard. Every so often his eyes scan the chamber, but in the end he defaults to forward. When Belladonna moves to her kneel before the fire, he glances in brief her way but does not follow. No, he just stands there looking somewhat grim.

Valencia is strangely calm as she listens to the news. "I think we may need more liquid courage. And there's no sense it sitting on my selves when it can do more here. I will bring what I can carry, then," she turns to Mydas and offers him a little smile, "Water we have in plenty if we are rationed and careful. I can bring that, though it will not be enough unless you can spare a barrel I might roll? And even then, whose to say. But if we do not try, we fail, yes?"

With word from the battlements coming in and carrying with them more and more strange goings on as the Bringer forces come ever closer to Arx, it seems Princess Isabeau has finally found fit to seek some shelter and solace outside of her own room in the Valardin ward. She arrives at the Nightgold Estate wearing an expression that just as well may be a mask, trying to find something of a smile while worry and fear has stolen the fire from her blue eyes. The Valardin princess pauses for a moment and looks back over her shoulder briefly before proceeding to approach... someone. Anyone, really. Whomever it might be that she first comes across. "I've come to help," she declares quietly.

Lydia looks at the parchment for a few minutes more, and when her green eyes lift, they find Valencia. Something about the woman's stoicism must stick with Lydia because she quickly folds the paper and slides it away, moving forward to greet Isabeau, "Oh, thank you for coming! There's praying and some people are working with bandages. You could also just sit and talk?"

"I made certain to increase our stockpiles in the days before the siege. We should have enough water to spare for such a purpose." Mydas answers Valencia. "No need to roll a barrel by yourself, Your Highness." he smiles. He turns when Isabeau enters, and he inclines his head in greeting. "Be welcome here, Your Highness. We're grateful for your support." He pauses. "Right, water barrel. Coming up."

For the time being, Belladonna is attending to her composure by being quiet and still by the fire, her head bowed apparently in prayer. The fingers of one hand curl around that copper pendant she wears, the only jewelry beyond her ring that she wears. And, well, yep. This, she can manage to do for now. Pray pray pray.

Samantha calls out to Mydas, "We'll need a paddle to stir them about, and someplace to hang them to dry." A solemn nod is offered to Isabeau, and something in the most recent update brings a sudden thankful smile to her face.

She nods to Lydia and offrs an encouraging smile, for some reason her own spark of fire creeping back into her eyes. "We cannot be on the field, but we can sure as hell do our part here, yes?" she grins at Lydia and offers a wink ans she tuns to smile at Isabeau, "Welcome, Princess. It is good of you to come. How do you feel about making bandages?" Valenica offers with a little nod of encouragement and a smile of thanks to Mydas for the rain barrel. "There is no reason to stop now. We must do what we can to be ready, yes? That is our way of fighting this. And fight it we will."

It was heartening to find that there were still some smiles to be salvaged in strange company. With her arrival so readily acknowledged and warmly welcomed, the Valardin princess directed her previously uncertain steps toward Lydia and reached out, "I... haven't any idea how to do it properly, I'm afraid, but I'm a quick study... if you'll show me how?" Yes. Yes, this was what Isabeau needed. Distraction. And companionship.

Alrec continues with his guard duty -- which, at this time, appears to be his doing his best impression of a statue. At least the fellow is taking a moment to blink every so often, and he does scan the room every few minutes or so. Maybe he's just working out the tension in his neck.

"I'm the wrong person to ask!" Lydia actually gives a wry laugh in response to Isabeau, although it pales in response to her normal laugh. She then steps back towards the sideboard again and reaches for a pastry. She breaks it into pieces and offers part of it out to Isabeau, as she leans over to admit, more somberly. "I'm terrible at anything with my hands."

Belladonna breathes out a little sigh as she unfolds again, sitting back up; there's a glance over the others nearby, a smile fluttered to those faces she hasn't greeted yet. A moment later and she's making to haul herself up to her feet, the 'oof' a mild one as she at least mostly keeps her balance. She's prompt to slip over to Alrec, leaning in to murmur something to him.

Mydas steps out for a moment to order the required barrels brought, along with a paddle and whatever might be required to heal the upcoming refugees, or soldiers that may be requiring healing. "Marquessa Samantha seems to be the most experienced." he points out as he returns, servants in toe. "Is there anything els that might be required?"

The fire in her eyes continues to burn low but present and the little raven-haired fox seems to decide the she is not undone. She gives Lydia another wink and roguish smile. "We are not done, my sweet Duchess. Not by a mile. We will see this through, come hell or high water. Or both. But we will see this through." There is a bright grin as Mydas orders barrels to be brought. "Gods, I hope there are not too many stairs between here and there," she grins, as she returns to perparing bandages until the barrels arrive.

Lianne did not arrive alone, but the guards who assured her safe passage from the Lycene Ward all the way up here have situated themselves out in the conservatory, leaving her to enter the great hall all by her lonesome. The darkly dressed lady has shed her cloak, leaving her fine dress of midnight blue wool on display, the cut horribly modest for a southerner, but tight enough in the bodice to at least offer a little temptation despite the near-complete coverage of her skin from just below her collarbones to all the way down to her toes. The strap of her leather satchel cuts across her chest, further spoiling the lines of her attire, the bag settled at her left hip. Her evergreen gaze flits about the others who've gathered tonight, but it's to the most familiar that she turns, steps taking her toward Belladonna and Alrec without a word of greeting to the hosting house.

When Belladonna is nearing him, Alrec's eyes slip toward her and he begins to track her for the few steps necessary for her to close the distance. Whatever it is that she murmured to him, it evidently does not require much by way of response. There is just a shake of his head, slight, without even an ounce of lessening that grim expression that he wears so well. Ah, and when it is that he catches sight of Lianne approaching from the corner of his eye, he shifts slightly, his head inclining toward her. That bow remains for a series of moments, until she has reached them, and only then does his chin lift.

"Here." Samantha rises to her feet, crossing over to join the other ladies. "The cloth will rip straight if you tear at it properly." Taking a new seat, "Like this." She takes two sections, gives it an initial tug, and then another sharp one. RIIIIIIIIIIIIIP. "When we've got a good pile, they can be put in the hot water. If you've any laundresses on hand, perhaps they could see to the stirring and drying. Once they've been dried, they can be rolled and stored."

When she sees Lianne Belladonna does actually smile, straightening up some and stepping to try and give the woman a brief, tight hug. "It's good to see you," she says softly. "The reports seem to be coming in fairly regularly." Not that she elaborates on what those reports might have been, though the touch of dread in her tone might give that away.

Isabeau settles into whatever convenient seat there may be near Lydia and begins to very carefully cut strips and squares from the fabric she's been handed, presumably in pursuit of making usable bandages. The princess wasn't bluffing when she said she had no idea how; the first few measures that she makes are lopsided and uneven. Mercifully, Samantha arrives to save the day and Isabeau watches in what may just as well pass for wonder as the other noblewoman demonstrates how to get the job done properly. Shortly thereafter, novice ripping ensues. "My sister has all the talent when it comes to clever hands," the Valardin princess confesses quietly. But, when news of one of her kinsmen filters into the hall, Isabeau takes pause to allow a little more color to drain from her face.

With the healers supplied with the hot water and other materials they might require, Mydas has the time to grab another cup of whiskey while listening to the reports he missed. "I see." He nods to Lianne in greeting. "The Gods and Spirits are with us. And we will not fail them." he says quietly, but with absolute certainty.

A bit of pastry in hand, Lydia moves away from the group of bandage makers, and towards Belladonna and Lianne and Alrec. She elaborates where Bella doesn't, her voice in a hushed, worried, whisper despite the brave smiles that Valencia's been sending in her direction. "They're ramming the gates. The gates are holding for now, but a breach seems inevitable."

"Fortunately, this is a very simple way to be of use. Even children can manage it." Samantha reassures. "I had a nine year old Prodigal girl, one of my refugees, teach me the proper way. Else I'd be making a mess of things. But even slightly flawed bandages can be of use, for appendages and hte like." She studies Isabeau. "I'm not sure if we've formally met, Your Highness. I'm Samantha Deepwood, Marquessa of Old Oak."

Lianne returns the nod to Mydas. She might even smile a little bit, though the evening's grim enough to keep her usual brilliance far from her features. So, too, does she nod to Alrec as she draws up beside him, but her attention is swiftly upon Belladonna in full, that hug returned as if it were a thing she very much needed, inspiring a proper smile. Softly, she tells her cousin, "I'm not sure how long I'll stay." With a tip of her head toward Lydia, she notes, "If the gates are soon to be breached, there are some other things I really should see to. Contingencies." A little wiggle of her fingers offers a sort of silent 'et cetera.' "Do /you/ need anything?"

Valencia nods, "They will hold. And if not, we will find way to stop them. But just so, let me get at least one barrel from the spring so we have more water to spare, yes?" Valencia smiles at Lydia and gives her arm a gentle squeeze. She smiles up at Samantha, "It is sometimes the simplest thing that mean the most, yes? The girth on a saddle is a simpling, but if not done right it can mean bad tidings for the ride and mount, yes?" She smiles a welcome at Liaanne as she settles in and sets her final stack of bandages down she smiles at Lydia, "You are a wonder. Keep spirits. Do not give up. We will get there." Valencia moves to the newly arrived barrels and heaves on onto it's side. "I will go and come back as fast as I may. Wish me luck," She turns a smile to Mydas, "Thank you, Lord Wolf. For everything." With that the little fox begins to roll the barrel out the door and down the hall as fast as she can.

There's a sidelong glance to Lydia when she approaches and shares the news, and Belladonna nods her head in agreement. Yes, that. She smiles briefly, shifts a step backwards -- it puts her at Alrec's side again, rather than letting him lurk behind her. Including him in the little grouping. "I am not planning on being here much longer myself. I thought that it would help, but I think my study keeps me calmest right now." She offers a little apologetic smile in Lydia's direction. "Well done, tonight," she offers softly. Valencia's approach and interaction with Lydia have her staring for a moment before she shakes it off, another apologetic tinged smile offered Lydia's way.

Alrec offers a small back and forth look between Lianne and Belladonna with those words, though it is the latter that he focuses upon. He quirks a brow in silent inquiry toward her, though does not clarify at all what precisely he is asking. That being said, the roll of the barrel by the small woman does draw his eye in brief and he studies her departure before focusing in on those of House Pravus as well as Lady Lydia.

Mydas inclines his head to Valencia. "Of course, Your Highness. Be safe, and be careful." But she's gone already. He glances back to Lydia before heading once more for the whiskey. His cup is empty.

The Valardin princess remembers herself... and her company and careful work in an instant after Samantha plies into the familiar formality of introduction. Her sister might have the clever hands, but Isabeau possessed a clever tongue. "I am Princess Isabeau Valardin. Would that it were under better circumstances, my Lady, but I am grateful to have made your acquaintance tonight," she replies with quiet calm and perfect etiquette.

Lydia gets distracted by Valencia, returning the woman's enthusiasm with a stiff smile, and then she glances over her shoulder towards Mydas, absently offering out the pastry that she brought towards Alrec. Sucking in a breath, she turns back towards the Pravus. "Yes, I imagine. Personally, I am finding /nothing/ soothing. The fear of a breach...Even then, though, they'll contain the bringers to the lower buroughs, surely?"

"Exactly so." Samantha agrees to Valencia prior to her depature, and returns to her efforts. "I've always been very appreciative of the virtue of the Crownlands' western neighbors." Samantha says with a small smile. To Lydia, "Fear is human. It's what you do despite it that counts."

"No, the -- army is on the other side of the north walls," Belladonna clarifies quietly, glancing in that direction. That very not far away direction, all things considered. She even gestures helpfully. "It isn't so much that it's soothing as that I do not have to even try and keep a smile on my face," she does finally comment darkly, looking between the few standing nearby, keeping her voice fairly quiet. Samantha's words catch her attention, her eyes flicking there and then back again. "I -- this is likely to go on for some time. I may be back, when my nerves settle some." She reaches to pat at Lydia's shoulder, then looks to Lianne. "You are welcome to walk back with us," she suggests.

Lianne keeps quiet as the others speak of fear and comfort, listening without offering any contribution of her own. Save the smile when Belladonna talks about not having to smile. It's an important distinction, one she clearly appreciates. At the offer to head back with Belladonna, she hesitates a moment before nodding. "Best to go in numbers, though I have another stop to make this evening. Likely my last." A subtle way, perhaps, of indicating that she won't be camping out at home.

Alrec is thusly lured from his position, taking a step toward Lydia and reaching out to take the offered pastry. "You have my gratitude," he murmurs, his voice a smooth thing, pitched low. The pastry is evidently to be coveted, for he holds it securely in hand and draws it close to his body just before he dips into a courtly bow. It's perhaps a touch exaggerated, but such behavior must be indulged in from time to time. After this display he straightens, pastry held tight, and moves back to appear nothing more than the grim guard once again.

"I too have some last preparations to make, ones that unfortunately require my immediate attention. I apologize." Mydas bows, his face hardened somewhat by purpose. "I'll be careful." he says more softly to Lydia, before stepping away, already signaling messengers and servants.

"I understand, but ... do try to come back?" Lydia's brow furrows plaintively to both Belladonna and Lianne, "If things go terribly, it's better to be together than apart." That Alrec's taken the pastry and bowed in thanks doesn't get much more of a reaction from Lydia then to have her eyes slide back towards him and lips pull up in a discrete smile.

"I will," Belladonna promises, reaching to brush a touch against Lydia's shoulder. "Once I am better settled. Thank you, for doing this." She looks to Lydia, nods her head in agreement. "We can go with you there, and wait if you won't be long -- or just head home, if you plan to be a while." She smiles a bit more for her cousin, then turns to step in and hug Lydia again. Squeeze. "I'll see you soon." There's a glance for Alrec, no words or nods or anything, and then she's turning to start for the door, pausing long enough to collect her cloak and get it into place.

Lianne does not make the same promise that Belladonna does. Nor does she accept her cousin's offer to wait, her head given a light shake, no explanation yet offered. She offers Lydia an uncertain sort of smile, casts a glance about the room, then falls into step behind her duchess, her own cloak and guards gathered as they make their way out.

Ah, duty calls. Alrec still holds that pastry firm in hand and close to his body but, after a cant of his head toward Lydia, he is moving on after the other two with that heavy-footed step of his.

Lydia returns the hug to Belladonna, and then draws back as the Pravus depart. She heads back over to where Samantha and Isabeau sit with their cloth and their bandages, picking up a piece of already torn bandage, as if she were going to work on it. "I hear my cousin abandoned you. He'll be back, though."

Samantha listens to the quiet exchanges, and it's clear she's getting anxious. She can't help but think of those in her home who may be looking for her reassurance. She closes her eyes briefly, murmuring a soft prayer before opening then opening her eyes. "Did your cousin go to the gates?" Samantha asks Lydia curiously.

Valencia arrives in the doorway, hair tousled, knees muddied and rather breathless, but she returns nonetheless.

Aida, 2 Pravus Honor Guard, Lianne, Alrec leave, following Belladonna.

Although it takes her several minutes to manage it, Isabeau has accomplished one solid session of making a bundle of bandages that look like they might even be usable. She sets them off in the hands of a servant or such waiting to take them to be boiled, but doesn't rush to take up another pile of cloth waiting to be torn to strips. Instead, she turns her head again toward the great doors of the hall and watches while folk come and go. Lydia's words return Isabeau's blue eyes first forward and then to her new-found companions. "Please, my ladies... pardon me," the Valardin princess says quietly as she slowly finds her feet. Rather than immediately making her way to leave the hall in the wake of several other nobles, she detours toward the quieter quarter of the room where the faithful pray and joins their number silently.

"I think, I could be wrong, but I think that he's in the kitchens? There were some things, just in case the ...well, just in case." Lydia responds, her eyes then dart towards Valencia when the Redrain princess returns, her eyes widen and she immediately drops the cloth, not even pretending to help. "Oh, you made it back! How are things out there?"

Valencia leans against the doorframe and attempts to catch her breath. "You can hear it, but nothing here yet," she pants, pushing her fingers through her hair and pulling out off her circlet in the process. "Streets are quiet, everyone is hopefully behind safe walls." Another breath is taken and a smile. "But nothing so far. Barrel is in the front hall. Too heavy to move here." the little raven-haired princess announces as she pushes off the wall and moves into the room. "Remind me not to move barrels on my own again unless absolutely necessary."

"I see." Samantha says with a nod, and offers, "Your Grace, forgive me. I can't help but think my own people have need of me. But thank you for hosting me and being willing to offer shelter to others." With that, she rises, drops a curtsy, and with another one for Valencia coming in, she heads out.

"You are, of course, pardened, your highness." Lydia says to Isabeau although her eyes are still on Valencia. She rises to her feet, blinking at Valencia as if she were insane, "You..." Lydia then shakes her head, moving closer to the Redrain princess "Never mind, the servants will get it. Will you tell me everything you saw? Everything you heard?"