Trini Albricci, an attractive young Lycene woman arrives, following Dianna.


To say that Princess Katarina's birthday is underwhelming would be possibly giving it too much credit. For all the talk of the oft-delayed party's potential for glitz and glamour, the party itself has turned into a depressingly small and quiet affair. In the wake of what can be quite accurately be dubbed 'current events,' many guests have suddenly found themselves with somewhere else to be.

The guests who have decided to brave the possibility of coming into contact with an Actual Eurusi mill about quietly, a banquet having been mostly picked at and not especially savored. Low murmurs abound, mostly about Pravus, Eurus, slavery, thralldom, refugees, and crises. The topics dancing through the air keep the party muted, and the musicians have opted to play to match that tone, rather than try and liven things up.

The birthday girl herself is sat at her table, with her elbows up on it, and her chin resting on her palms. Katarina looks like she's pouting. Obviously, she would never. She's a Princess and a Valardin besides. She'd never pout. But she sure looks like it. She got all dressed up for...


Things have taken a turn, rather suddenly, in many, potentially very disastrous ways. Bianca Wyrmguard has found, however, that some kind of source of stability and support is vital in times like these, for big moments and small, if one is to keep their head above water.

And that might be why, despite everything else going on, the Legate of Creation arrives at Katarina Valardin's party promptly on time, dressed for the best, as if nothing in the world could keep the pale woman from being here. The seraphinite of her dress collar catching the light of House Valardin's familiar halls as she looks around, her expression tempers into a look of quiet, thoughtful neutrality as she hears the whispers, catches glimpses of passing conversation. Silver eyes eschew any of those, however, to land on the birthday princess, seated at her table, Definitely Not Pouting. Her head tilts.

"Happy birthday, Princess Katarina." And Bianca unfailingly arrives to greet the special guest of the night with a warm smile and a reassuring air, one hand pressed to her chest. "Do you mind if I sit with you, and occupy your time for a little while?"

Nearly strutting in - but certainly sauntering with a heavy sway to her walk - is Sister Dianna Mazetti, as proud as a...

Wait. No, that doesn't work at all, considering the fact that Dianna's fluttering feathers are, every one, a perfect, opalescent shimmer of /white/. Perhaps as proud as an albino peacock? Let's go with that, for now.

And so, with a proud *CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK* of her tall, fluttering heels, Sister Dianna Godsworn walks into the Valardin grounds, eyes popping from guards and servants as they note the slender, sculpted glaivedancer's legs peeking out from the feathered cloak she wears... and one of those legs is covered /barely/ with a small lattice of feathers, while the other? Nothing. Nothing and more nothing covering the sheen of perfect bronze.

Besides the feathers, Dianna wears a sultry smile and a lovely opalescent fascinator cocked upon the twisting dark curls that careen down to her waist. She struts straight to where the birthday girl is pouting and looks the woman in the face. Should she look up - or not - the mischievous feathered priestess tucks a curled knuckle under the princess' chin and gently lifts. "Hello... and happy much-belated birthday, Princess Katarina," Dianna smiles, her amber eyes aglow as she looks directly into Katarina's eyes - then, with Katarina's chin still lifted, dips into a /very/ slow curtsy, in which she pulls the draped, feathered cloak aside. "I'm afraid I didn't bring a gift," the priestess remarks with sweet casualness. "But, I shall make it up to you."

Aside, Dianna lifts a curling smile to Bianca and greets the Legate warmly, "Good evening, Legate Bianca."

Metzger, a great grey shrike, Jok, the muscley muscle knight, Maximus, the drooly Highhill Mastiff arrive, following Dominique.

Glory, the Prestigious Warhorse, Doreen, the Red Squirrel arrive, following Klaus.

At the legate's side is her protege, Verity Locke. This is an easy hierarchy to determine because Verity's linen dress may be wonderfully made -- excellent craftsmanship, a charming moonlit theme -- but it's linen and not aeterna and seraphinite.

And umbra. Okay, yes, it's several steps down, let's not dwell.

Verity comes near the designated birthday table alongside Bianca, but she does not immediately offer her greetings. Bianca and Dianna have the right-of-way there. But, afterward, the Chevallier woman inclines her head in deference.

"Happy birthday, princess."

She remains quiet otherwise while the two godsworn engage in conversation, since it doesn't seem like a casual-bantering-approved moment right now. Verity knows her strengths and weaknesses.

Ippolito, a highly trained personal guard arrives, following Roxana.

Metzger, a great grey shrike, Jok, the muscley muscle knight, Maximus, the drooly Highhill Mastiff leave, following Dominique.

Merek has decided to put on his white and black attire, while he makes a way into the place, looking about. H dfoes offer a smile for folk he knows while he settles about.

2 House Wyrmguard Guards arrives, following Desiree.

Lady Appolonia of the House called Seraceni fears no contact with the Eurusi! Except in the sense that many of them have a certain quantity of sharp or heavy objects that they would probably be pleased to introduce to her body; but that's not, exactly, what's liable to happen at a birthday party, unless one is a cake.

She is no cake, despite the white.

Appolonia approaches the birthday girl's table. She is temporarily concealed by the trailing feathers Dianna bears behind her, which also means that she does not see the Legate -

"Happy birthday!" Appolonia declares, sweeping her skirt out in a deep curtsey bordering on a kneel to Katarina. "Oh, good day and good - evening too; I hope that these clouds soon pass and that you have a sunny, brilliant year." Her hands clasp as she finally catches sight of Bianca and Verity, to whom she greets with a raise of the eyebrows. But then it's back to Katarina.

Merek says, "Happy birthday!"

Glory, the Prestigious Warhorse, Doreen, the Red Squirrel leave, following Klaus.

Always a little late, sometimes fashionably and sometimes otherwise, Princess Roxana Grayson still manages to slip in to the Valardin Manor and towards Katarina to celebrate her. "My darling. I'm so, so sorry about having to change the locale, and the time. Things have been.....complicated, sweetheart. But one day I will absolutely host a party in that ballroom which you will be front and center at. Dancing under the stygian chandeliers, yes?" Roxy's villa, to those who have visited, is known for its complete ostentation in design, and yet somehow it works, kind of. "Happy Birthday. May this year be a thousand times better than the last, and yet the one that follows even moreso. Always." An airy Lycene kiss is placed on each of the Eurusi-Valardin's cheeks, perfumed and warm.

2 House Wyrmguard Guards leaves, following Desiree.


The allegedly celebrating Princess rouses herself from her (most definitely not a) pout when Bianca and Verity approach. She has the barely concealed eagerness of someone who, well, really wants something to distract her. "Legate," Katarina trills, and gives a nod to Verity as well -- when her train of thought is completely interrupted by Dianna's entrance. Distracting, indeed! The Princess's chin is cupped by the Godsworn, and she can't suppress a grin. "You look marvelous, Dianna," she purrs.

And then Appolonia arrives, and Merek, and Roxana, and finally Katarina decides she just has to push herself up out of her chair and greet them all on two feet. Of course, her lack of height leaves her less than impressive, but her backless gown -- which showcases a specially crafted necklace, and the pointillistic pattern tattooed onto most of her back -- makes up for it. "Thank you all for coming, truly," Katarina says, and steps to Roxana to give her a hug. "You must apologize for nothing. The events of the world are not ours to decide, only to weather."


"Ah, Sister Dianna!" Bianca's greeting comes serene but pleased as the be-feathered priestess makes her showstopping entrance; the pale Legate's brows lift, but her smile, though small, is a truly sincere one. "I feel as if we might get to know each other wholly through social events." Subdued humor twinkles briefly in those silver eyes, before she shakes her head. "It is good to see you again, truly. And looking so remarkable, as well."

But - with a brief look, and smile, of recognition for Appolonia - Bianca's attention turns renewed and fully upon Katarina as the presence of so many guests here to greet her seems to rejuvenate her. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, your highness. No matter what was, or is happening. You are quite worth making the time for." And as she speaks, Bianca turns to the side, making way for Verity with a small gesture. "If you have yet to be acquainted, this is Mistress Verity Locke, my protege. She is Chevalle's Minister of Loyalty -- and someone worth knowing. She was rather eager to be here." And here, she looks Verity's way, casting her a little, teeny tiny itty bitty smile.

Verity, catching the surreptitious Seraceni signal, raises her eyebrows back at Appolonia. She's not entirely sure what this means, but it has always seemed safer to indulge the noblewoman's whims. This one is less related to knives, so it's probably inherently more innocent.

The courtier stands aside as more people bustle around Katarina. She watches with polite detachment, gaze lingering on whoever has their turn at making conversation.

Eventually, that person becomes her. It takes a beat of silence before recognition hits her expression.

"Oh! Yes. That's me. I'm really more of a liaison with the commoners, I suppose? Everyone says the full title is too ominous and I try not to be ominous on account of it being a complete mismatch for my personality--"

The Chevallier woman raises her hands as if she needed to gesture to herself to slow down. Maybe.

"A pleasure to meet you, your highness. I regret that the circumstances are so grim. I will endeavor to be as worth knowing as the legate flatters me by saying."

"Verity!" Roxana gushes. "Such a delight to see you here. I'm sure you are also disappointed we did not end up hosting in the villa...but don't worry. There will be a next time, a mind blowing next time. Eventually." She's a bit of a flake, dear Roxy, but she does try.

"That's better," Dianna gently smiles at the Birthday Princess, caressing a cheek when Katarina finally grins. Really, that's all that Dianna wanted - and, knowing her dear friend, knew /just/ what would cheer up the woman who would very likely be in a soured-pussycat mood because of the latest moods.

Dianna shines her smile and amber gaze warmly upon Verity, following her greeting to Bianca - but is caught by Bianca's reply and laughs, a merry, mirthful sound. "Oh... well, thank you; you are /always/ so beautiful, Legate. Truly, it does seem as though we might; though, quite honestly, I'd prefer to find a moment between breaths to sit with you and chat about our respective interests - as we once discussed. And now... so many things," Dianna notes, glancing briefly to Katarina with a small nod of subtle indication, "...take up our minds, do they not, Legate? Although... if you have the time, perhaps tomorrow? Or later this week or next. I'm sure I've plenty of questions."

A second gentle smile for Verity and Dianna remarks kindly, "Hello. I think we only barely met - at the Malvici gardens, wasn't it? Although... I'm not sure that I caught your name," Dianna nearly purrs. "In case I failed to mention it, then: I'm Sister Dianna Godsworn, Mirrormask - though, of course, dedicated to /all/ the gods."

Dianna awaits Verity's reply, despite noting Merek's presence. She glances briefly to the side and smiles, nods familiarly to him. The other guests, though, are unfamiliar to her... except for Appolonia, who looks /slightly/ familiar. No time yet, and certainly time later, to say hello. She waits for Verity's reply... and, noting she's swarmed with the happy Roxana, smiles again and curtsies lightly.

Merek offers a light smile to Dianna, "Sister," he offers, then he looks to Katarina and offers an incline, beltcape shifting while he does. "I am glad you look to be doing well, I've made efforts to come here, I find it enjoyable to be around you!" He does beam and bow to Bianca, a friend, while he looks to those he knows at least in familiarity, a nod to Appolonia, then he looks to Roxana and Verity, new to both, "Ser Merek, pleasure!"


"I should hope there is a next time," Katarina says, while she steps back from Roxana, to take Verity's hand in both of hers. Her little hands are so warm! It's almost weird. "I would very much like that this is not my LAST birthday." She gives a coy little smile, the face of someone who enjoys turning people's statements around like that.

Katarina's eyes move to Verity, whose hand she continues to hold. "Mistress Locke, it is my honor to have one spoken of so highly at my celebration. Please, avail yourself of food and drink to your heart's content." Katarina releases Verity's hand, and begins drifting back Dianna-ward.

"You're always mind-blowing eventually," Verity says in smooth reply to Roxana and with a cheeky smile.

Dianna catches her attention next, and the courtier turns to meet her with a bit of a twirl to her skirts. Her dress may not be expensive, but /she/ likes it.

"Sister Dianna! Hello, yes, we were in Lord Martino's hot spring together, but I think we were occupied with speaking to others at the time. There were quite a few people shoved together, weren't there?"

Katarina seizes her hands. Verity, for her part, does not seem the slightest bit taken aback by the sudden closeness. A bit bemused, maybe, but primarily her expression is delighted.

"Ah! You're so gracious. No wonder everyone seems to adore you."

She spares a glance for Merek while she's at her greeting-everyone tour. "Hello! I recall seeing you about here and there."

"Eventually?" Roxana glances at Verity after pulling back from that kiss of greeting. "If I didn't know it was /impossible/ I'd think you were poking fun at me darling." A tsk.


"It's so terribly true," Appolonia agrees with Katarina. She circulates slightly, to allow others to approach the princess. "It is a rather ominous title," she admits to Verity, but beyond that she holds her peace. She smiles too at Dianna, but says little else for now.

"Who has an ominous title?" Roxana asks as she plucks a wineglass from somewhere. "I think I may have missed that part."

"You said 'eventually' first," Verity protests, but the mostly-obvious feigned nature of her pout tips her hand. "Besides, isn't poking fun an affectionate activity?"

She gestures widely at the dour musical accompaniment.

"I can't deal with all this gloom."


"Sir Merek," Bianca greets with genial politeness, her head dipping down in a brief but well-meaning gesture. "It is good to see you well."

The pale woman's attention turns back towards Dianna with this, apologetic smile blooming at her lips. "As would I. I'm much better with more quiet settings, but even so -- I am happy I could make it here. Now more than ever, I think it is important to make the time for ourselves and the things that matter to us, even when it seems we have none of it to spare." And, steepling fingers together over her chest, Bianca gives a single, definitive nod, seraphinite jostling just slightly with the motion. "This week. Let us find the perfect time, and I shall make sure to keep it open for you."

With this, Bianca turns back towards Verity, a little note of approval in her expression at the exchange between her and the princess. Despite herself, she can't help but smile just a bit at Roxana and the Chevalle woman's back and forth, a hand raised, very casually, over her lips when she speaks next. "Your next birthday will be a remarkable affair, I'm sure," she says to Katarina, with the subtle assurance that it will Definitely Happen and Nothing Terrible Will Happen. "And you will look just as glowing as you do now."


"Lord Martino's hot springs~?" Katarina raises her eyebrows. "Something more interesting to talk about than all of this... dourness," the Princess says with a smile. Anyone who knows Katarina even slightly knows that she'd never be sincerely dismissive of a topic as important as... er, any of the ones currently raging. Even people who don't know her might be able to take a guess. However, the role of a party host means trying to keep things light, perhaps.

"It was Lord Martino who gifted me this necklace. I had to commission a dress to match it, rather than the other way around," the Eurusi woman says with a little smile. She seeks out Dianna's hand, and holds it tightly. "Sir Merek, I hope that you are better rested than when last I saw you. You seemed quite stricken by a lack of sleep... but you show none of it tonight. Have adventures roused your spirit~?"

Roxana, whose attention span is rivaling that of a fruit fly, turns to Bianca suddenly, overhearing enough to justify a comment, in her mind at least. "That is a beautiful sentiment, Legate. Truly. It is absolutely crucial to do just that. To make time for ourselves, those we love, and the things that bring us joy. When threats approach, it is that which we defend, and to abandon it because it need be defended...well what sort of sense does that make?" It's a rhetorical question, and she turns back to Katarina. "You look beautiful."

Merek looks then to Katarina and nods a bit, "I am well enough, I still need to nap a bit more," he says, "Though nice to meet people."

Firstly, a warm smile and a gracious nod to Bianca, "Splendid. I shall look forward to speaking with you, at long last, Legate." Then, Dianna's hand is captured by the Valardin princess - and talk of Lord Martino's garden party. A wry smile cocks askance on the priestess' lips at the mention of it, then mention of Katarina's necklace elicits a soft, suffused chuckle. "Oh, /is/ it?" Dianna asks Katarina. "How amusing. Well. He has fine taste in jewelry - though I had no doubt of it."

Dianna tracks the Eurusian's gaze to Merek; she smiles again, allowing conversation to ensue. "What have you been doing that robs you of your sleep, Merek?"

Roxana is overheard praising Katarina: Lovely, warm, kind, Princess Katarina is a true gem.

Merek is overheard praising Katarina.

Merek checked composure at difficulty 10, rolling 4 higher.

Verity also turns her attention to Bianca when Roxana abruptly looks away from her, but this is to share another eyebrow-raised look with the legate. She learned it from you, Appolonia.

"I told him that I wished to steal the technology for improving the Valardin Ward, and he seemed to enjoy the idea," she says to Katarina, on the subject of Martinos and hot springs. "The necklace is beautiful -- both he and you share wonderful taste."

Verity is overheard praising Katarina.

Ippolito, a highly trained personal guard leaves, following Roxana.


Despite that gracious and unflappably serene way she presents herself to the world, mention of 'dourness' seems to create the slightest nick in Bianca's armor; her expression tempers with the briefest notes of concern in those softening brows, those pursing lips. She considers Katarina for a moment -- but ultimately, that smile is what wins out.

"It was a truly remarkable thing, your highness. If you have opportunity, I'd highly recommend seeing for yourself. It was..." Bianca, tried and true Oathlander, tries to find the proper way to convey her very first experience in a hot spring. Her brows scrunch mildly. "... much like the finest bars of chocolate one could find in Blancbier." She thinks that sounds acceptable.

But, with this assessment, her attention turns towards Roxana. She shakes her head in a modest gesture, hands clasping behind her back as she defers, "A very good outlook to have, princess. We shouldn't lose sight of those things that are important to us." And her expression lapses into something thoughtful, for a moment, before she turns once more to Katarina with an apologetic look.

"I'm afraid, though, my time here must be terribly brief. I am glad to see that spirit of yours remains unflagging, your highness," Bianca offers, sincerely -- and one pale hand lifts, to briefly rest on Katarina's shoulder. "If you ever wish to speak, on anything -- know that I will keep my doors open for you whenever you want. You need only send word." She smiles, looks towards Verity, and pulls away -- bowing gracefully before she steps back towards the hall's exit once more. "Happy birthday again, princess. I hope the night proves to be a worthwhile one."

Bianca is overheard praising Katarina: Whether the party is a grand celebration or a small affair, and no matter the circumstances, you are undoubtedly and unfailingly the life of it.

Merek looks a bit thoughtfully to Dianna, and blinks a bit in thought, while he lifts those shoulders a bit. "Just a lot of work, especially with all the issues we're faicing." A nod to the woman, with a look to Katarina, and a smile as well.


When Roxana mentions how good Katarina looks, the Valardin Princess releases Dianna's hand and does a slow twirl to show off the dress. It actually causes a few of the background guests to stop and look and murmur amongst themselves. Katarina steps over to exchange a quiet goodbye with her fellow Princess, and then as Roxana leaves, turns to look over her shoulder at the rest of the assembly. "You have all warmed my spirit considerably, my friends. I began tonight feeling apprehensive and forlorn, but it is in your company that I feel not only comfortable, but happy. That is the best birthday gift I could receive~." She pauses, only half a beat. "Though a hot spring would be the second best~."

When Bianca begins to speak their way out, Verity steps nearer so that she may flank the legate as she did so while entering.

The Chevallier woman clasps her hands together and inclines her head again, one more show of deference for the road.

"I'm so pleased we could lift your mood, your highness. I will look into hot springs -- though I may need to look into noble backers for the coin, as it does not seem like something one may purchase with horses."

It's a Chevalle joke, smile and nod.

After a curtsey, she moves to follow Bianca.

The dress Katarina wears - and twirls - is watched, smiled at serenely and approved with a gentle nod by Dianna. She chuckles at Bianca's description. "While I can't say I've had Blancbier's chocolates, nor have I been in the Malvici hot springs - as yet - I enjoy them, still. As did Lord Martino, I'm sure - enjoy his, /and/ his garden party," the priestess mentions with a twinkling smirk. "I'm sorry to see you leave so soon, Legate, Messere Verity - and look forward to our meeting, Legate? I shall leave the date and time to you."

Dianna then turns her attention back to Merek, "Yes... I... should imagine all the smiths in the city are quite overfilled with work." Her bronzed brow crease with the realization of this and her lips turn slightly downward. A thought clearly crosses Dianna's mind, though she does not vocalize it. Quickly enough, though, her amber eyes lift and Dianna smiles to Katarina.

Appolonia is overheard praising Katarina: It's not easy to have a moment of festivity when your very heritage is a topic of controversy, but we cannot choose the times in which we live (probably, yet). Princess Katarina is bearing up under the strain wonderfully.

Archimedes, the Grim Face of Owlish Judgement, Sir Alren, Scholar Duran, a perpetually put-upon assistant, 3 Templar Knight guards, Clementine leave, following Bianca.


Katarina makes her way back to Dianna, to wrap her arm around the Godsworn sister's. It's as though the Princess keeps coming back to Dianna the way someone might keep reaching for a security blanket in a time of trouble. "Sir Merek, Lady Appolonia, if you also have pressing matters, I will not be offended. You do not need to stay so close only for my benefit." She offers a little smile. It might be that she's teasing them. Just slightly. "I am sure Sister Dianna will draw her sword to protect me from the menace that is loneliness~. Though I am saying this only to tease her, I will admit~."

"Oh don't be ridiculous! I just got my wine in order," Appolonia says with a beam, raising up the glass of wine she did apparently have to go and obtain somehow. (Did she bring her own? Mysterious.) "I would be quite glad to stay at least a while longer." Her voice lowers. "Besides, I believe I understand what has cast this unfortunate gloom. I promise you I am not like the yew tree of society."

"/Glaive/, dear princess," Dianna purringly corrects, a dark, perfectly-sculpted eyebrow lifted. "And, tonight, I left my glaives at home... though, I could have Trini fetch it quickly, if you prefer that I have it?" A beat, then Dianna winks playfully at Katarina.

Trini Albricci, an attractive young Lycene woman have been dismissed.


Katarina gives Appolonia one of those smiles that's best termed as 'feline' -- her golden eyes glint in the same manner as a cat that knows more than it's letting on. This look seems to be a default for Katarina. "You are entirely welcome to stay. Especially as I would be keen to hear more on this understanding -- will you share it~?"

Klaus shouts from the Outside to Valardin Grounds <VG>, "Happy birthday!"

Merek nods a bit between folk while he looks to Dianna, and nods to the woman's words, while he seems to be a bit thoughtful.

"I imagine it's recent events that's bothering you," Appolonia tells Katarina. Her eyebrows lift again (see, she did teach Verity). "Or perhaps more accurately, that you are seeing who is more concerned with recent events, than with you."

Gently slipping her free hand onto Katarina's hand as it is tucked under Dianna's elbow, the priestess pats softly and squeezes as she listens to Appolonia. "Indeed. And such things are hard, my dear princess. ...But, is that all that's troubling you?" Dianna asks, turning to look at Katarina.


Katarina purses her full lips very slightly. "On that second point, Lady Appolonia, I must correct you. It does not sink my heart to see that the people of my House -- and indeed of the Compact -- care more about chaos than they do one Princess. What troubles me is that this chaos exists at all. It is..." Katarina looks over to Dianna for a moment, and seems to be searching for the right word, before her gaze returns to Appolonia. "There is much in the air that is of ignorance. It is like the cold of winter when the whistle of the wind is too loud to hear yourself think. This troubles me deeply~."

Merek looks between the three, and wiggles his nose a bit in thought. He doesn't comment upon the situation at the moment.

Appolonia does the eyebrow thing again. Is there a class in Ischia? (Yes.) "Is that so," she murmurs, putting a hand to her collarbone. "I've heard rumors that the disdain applied to the ambassador has extended to folk who have escaped the toils of Eurus, which you would think would be a rather elementary error, as you could tell which one leaked black sand around and which one did not."

"Frankly I don't know what to do about it," Appolonia says, lowering her eyes. "I've studied so much about Eurus. I've never been there. Now I suppose we are at war, whether or not we're quite at the point of admitting it."

Gently, Dianna leans over and places a soft kiss upon Katarina's cheek, peeking up to look soulfully into her eyes. "My dear princess. /That/... is enough to trouble us all," she sincerely agrees. Then, turning to look upon Appolonia, Dianna nods, "I wish I knew more, frankly. I don't even know the language."


Katarina leans in to a discreet kiss to her cheek by Dianna -- and to listen to something whispered into her ear. She doesn't reply to it just yet, keeping her eyes on Appolonia. "There is no sense in a crowd," Katarina murmurs, sounding disappointed by this fact. "Only a scramble for what, in each moment, seems like it might come closest to sense. Often, that thing is totally the opposite." Katarina lets out a gentle sigh. "I wish there was more that I could say for certain. I must go to these refugees, I must speak with them. I must learn, before I can speak." She looks to Dianna. "I will teach you, if you like."

"We're working on a primer, actually, over at the Scholars," Appolonia says to Dianna after that moment of kissing and soulfulness. (To Merek Appolonia adds, "Are you interested? I see you around a fair bit.") Back ahead, she says, "To learn from one who speaks the tongue is the best way, of course..."

"And you're so right," Appolonia adds, "about the crowds."

"I speak Eurusi," Merek mentions, "I was also involved in curing the illness that Eurusi on the boat that arrived came in on, there was a lot to learn about them from that," he admits, with a nod between the three. Mister rarely talks seems to have a plethora of knowledge.

"Involved in the research into it, even," Merek mentions.

"Of course, I'm deeply interested, princess, my lady. And, naturally, it is best to learn from a native - so I will accept your offer, Highness, if you can give me a bit longer to rest my mind. It's been... somewhat taxing, all of this talk of war," Dianna warmly smiles.

"Oh do you! - What was that illnes?" Appolonia asks Merek, seeming slightly astounded. ("It's been awful to hear," Appolonia asides to Dianna. "I mean even we in the stacks dealing with spilled ink know that in time it may become blood.")

"Not sure what it was, came aboard in the boat, took a while to cure," Merek admits.

Tersely, Dianna inhales, her expression becoming grave as she attends Appolonia. "Yes. I can only imagine what you must see. I heard of something, though: A fire - do you know anything about it?"

"Oh, do you mean the one in... the Archives, when..." Appolonia answers Dianna with a purse of the lips.

To Merek, she asks, "How did it get cured?"

Merek looks between the folk in thought, "Ah... Well, eventually it was found a few mixtures to cure it as well as a treatment plan," he says.


The Princess lingers at the edge of the conversation, for now. She seems intent on her thoughts, though her arm stays looped with Dianna's, and her fingers tease at the Godsworn's idly. To look at them, one would be forgiven for assuming some degree of intimacy! "'Taxing,'" she repeats, drifting far back into the conversations. "A good word for it~." She looks to Merek as he tells his tale. "The cure was, as it is here, good people working together, taking in a situation, and using what they know to do their part~. I will strive to follow such an example, Sir Merek~."

"Yes, the, mmm... Archives, my lady. I heard there was some fire there. A poor thing to happen there; ...do you know what that was about?" Dianna asks, softly petting Katarina's hand. There is a deep, silent pensiveness in the priestes as she speaks, deeper still when she is silent.

"I know very little, but I have heard it claimed as proof of Vellichor smiting the effrontery of that certain person," Appolonia says, apparently satisfied at news for the cure. "Was it? I don't know. But it is a rare thing to erupt in flames if you aren't standing, for instance, in a kitchen or a... thing... metal, makey, FORGE."

"Metal Makey Forge," Merek muses, then he looks to the people, nodding a bit. "Generally even then it tends not to happen."


Katarina rests her head against Dianna's feathered shoulder. "There is much about the world that seems fated to forever remain mysterious," she murmurs. "No matter how much we prod. Not that this would ever stop us..." She looks around at her party and then toward Appolonia and Merek. "My friends, I thank you for coming, but I find myself in need of a rest -- not from your friendship, which I cherish, but perhaps only from my own thoughts. It is... not an ideal time to have one's birthday~."

Merek maneuvers then to Kat, offering a light pat upon the shoulder, with a smile as well for Appolonia and Dianna, "I know, I think it's still nice. Being with friends, that's what these things are all about."

"What's today? The twenty-fifth, yes? Six days until mine and Lessi's, my dear princess. Six days... and I can't remember the last time we celebrated," Dianna smiles wryly. "Not ideal at all. Shall we delay birthdays until /after/ the war?"

There is a brief twitch of Appolonia's eyelid at the numeration, but it's brief - more of a hard blink than anything. "Of course, your highness! Thank you for your hospitality - if ever I can help you, do let me know." She dips down in another deep curtsey and tells Dianna with a smile, "And a happy birthday in advance to you and your sister!"

"If only we could stop time," Appolonia then laughs. "Take care of yourself, sir Merek! We need all the medical minds we can get..." And with that she drifts towards the exit.


Katarina reaches out to pat Merek's arm as he pats her shoulder. "You all have reminded me of very important things," she purrs. "I wish you well. Good night~." Katarina turns, to begin stepping back towards the living quarters part of Valardin Manor -- but she's rather unsubtle in the way that she takes Dianna's hand, bringing the Godsworn with her.