12 Grayson House Guards arrives, following Liara.

Jasper, a treasure hunting gyrfalcon, Portia, a tittering and bashful lady's maid, Renato, an overconfident attendant, Bastien, a strapping Malvici escort arrive, following Kaia.

12 House Velenosa Guards arrives, following Jaenelle.

Deva has joined the a regal sofa with green silk cushions and silver accented carvings.

Michael has joined the silver seasilk sofa of superb repose.

The party! THE BALL! An extravagant event that is breathaking....so breathaking that someone people need a breather from the thing. So people escape into small alcoves until things finally die down. To take off those obnoxious toe-pinching slippers or soft leather boots. As is somewhat the case with Michael who has plopped down on a sofa in the vicinity and has a small glass of something fantastic as the party starts to finally dwindle in the wee hours of the morning. This is a superb place to watch people depart and graze on the remains of the feast.

Deva is several drinks in by now, but is she done? Oh, no. Not even close. She has not one but two glasses, one in each hand, as she leans in a lazy fashion upon one of the too-comfortable couches. While she watches faces drift by, and even summons a smile every so often, she nevertheless looks distantly distracted about something. There's a more put-together air about her than usual, with hair loosely curled and a gown that is mostly wrinkle-free.

Having been here since the beginning, Nazmir and Ivy had participated in in the main event and then had stepped out as people began to depart, in order to get some fresh air. As more people begin to take their leave, the pair slip back into the hall, arm and arm and murmuring quietly to one another. A quick bob of his head and a smile, he's then guiding her over towards one of the drink tables, in order to claim up a new beverage and on the way, he happens to catch sight of Deva lazing on a couch, which has him flashing a smile, "You look mighty comfortable, Deva." A glance to Ivy, "Do you happen to know Princess Deva Redrain, Ivy?"

Greta the Information Broker arrives, following Valarian.

Having departed the hall at some point rather earlier, Liara returns, this time in search, apparently, of a meal. Turns out grazing on finger food and desserts doesn't quite do it - maybe. She's not in the business of greeting everyone in sight this time around, at least.

Lyra has kept to the fringes of the room for most of the ball. It's possible she's been claimed for a few dances, though with so many in attendance she'd have been easily lost in the crowds. Many new faces had been met, and now as the drifting starts to thin the room, she finally collects some food from one of the tables. An architect would be proud of how she manages to stack snacks to a lurching height on the plateware, and carrying it carefully in one hand, her other being used to hitch her gown a few inches shy of the floor. She heads for one of the alcoves. It /is/ one of the terrible facts of a ball well-held that even beautifully fitting slippers will start to hurt several hours in, and it's her intention to kick them off so she can curl those aching feet beneath her whilst tucking into her food. Oh look, a spot free on the couch that Michael's claimed for himself. It'd serve him right after the destruction he'd wrought on her papers if she plonked herself down /right there/. "Lord Bisland. Might I?" It's a rhetorical question since her backside's already half-way to the upholstery.

Lyra has joined the silver seasilk sofa of superb repose.

Khadija, a most lovely voice of reason arrives, delivering a message to Ivy before departing.

The lady Kaia and Lord Martino are, as usual, walking together. They seem to be returning from the courtyard after what was likely a moment of privacy amidst the event. They would be clad in matching peach hued outfits of luxurious damask. See they looked quite radiant and fashionable when they arrived; but, wait--the buttons of the lord's doublet seem to be somewhat uneven.

"That's funny, I don't feel very comfortable," Deva tipsily replies to Nazmir with a laugh. She stretches one leg a bit and lifts a shoulder to adjust the sleeve of her dress as best she can while her hands are full. "Hey Naz-- oh! You're getting married, right? Cool. That's cool. Congratulations you two," she lifts the glass she's already been working on to toast the couple, while the other remains precariously held away from herself over the arm of the couch. "It's nice to meet you, Ivy."

"Well the extra silvers for the nannies means we get to enjoy the after-party as well." Laughing hush within his chest, Martino's eyes are crinkling to the Lady Kaia as the two enter in once more. Pausing for a moment, his gaze noticing something in Kaia's hair that he picks out before tucking into his pocket, "Just a wintery twig. Shall I get us something more to drink? Oh who did we not get to speak with much before?" Afar, Martino's fingertips are wiggling across to Lyra in greeting. His torso dipping to Michael and Liara once more as new and former hosts.

Taking the time to claim a glass for herself, Ivy seems more than happy to let Nazmir lead the way on this foray of the ball. She turns a smile towards Deva and inclines her head, "I believe we met when you first arrived in the city... at Master Felix's shop? Though if I remember correctly, you had to leave soon after my arrival, we may not have had a chance to be properly introduced. I am Lady Ivy Blackram and it is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."

"Well, perhaps you shouldn't..Lady Kaia is around and you might take the time..." But Lyra WAS already halfdown to sitting, Michael just hadn't looked that way until she plopped down beside him. "A wintery twig?! Just how might that've happened, Lord Martino? You're not letting Kaia climb trees and things still are you? Only bad things happen when Kaia finds herself up high."


Not one for the more formal event that has now transpired past to a rather sprightly after party, Valarian finds this kind of formalities with food and drink to be more to his liking. Strolling into the old Grayson home, things familiar from long ago still decorate the great hall. It is the faces after some few years that feel lost to memory almost having left on his pilgrimage at an relatively early age once he had come to adulthood. The time away hasn't harmed him either, the tall, rather roguish, handsome man he had become suits him, along with his pension for fine clothing and jewelry. His auburn eyes look around the place, noting Lady Malvinci, whom he had met the day before, nodding to Lord Martino as well.


"Well you look it," is what Nazmir offers to Deva with the hint of a chuckle, only to then give a little nod of his head, "Indeed. A rather new development. And thank you." A quirk of his lips to a smile, masked a moment later by the lift of his glass to his lips, for a small sip to be taken before he's lowering it back down, gaze turning towards Ivy, "Somehow, Ivy, I'm not surprised that you've crossed paths with her at some point."

"Lady Kaia?" Lyra asks as she slides her tortured feet from her slippers and tucks them up beneath her on the couch. "Oh yes. There she is!" Her plate gets balanced on the side of her knees. "Lady Kaia. Lord Martino." There's a return wiggle of her fingers and a supressed smile when twigs are carefully disentangled from hairs. She lifts her voice a little as they approach. "The dancing tuition really came into its own this evening, Lady Kaia. I'm so glad I managed to make your event the other day." A small pastry gets pinched between her fingers and popped in her mouth.

Deva might not be a total mess just yet, but she's probably well on her way. "Oh gods, you're right," she holds her glass to her forehead and winces an apology for Ivy. "That feels like yesterday, but also forever ago? Of course. The goat. Duh. Please forgive me, I'm still getting used to the way things are now rather than how they were. I hope my cousin brings you much happiness and joy." Nazmir's observation makes her snicker, and she wobbles up to sit a little straighter on the couch, but it's sooo comfortable that the cushions still swallow her posture. "I 'dunno what you mean by that! There's still a city full of people I don't know," and she starts gesturing randomly toward poor partygoers passing by.

Rupert, the Laurent Archivist, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Laurent veteran guards arrive, following Cristoph.

Kaia looks back, somewhat surprised, at Martino. Her cheeks flushing just slightly before she hears her cousin's voice and she gives him a look. Lady Lyra is met however with a beaming smile. 'I'm so glad to hear it, Lady Lyra.~" she says, here eyes then moving to the food. 'Oh, but, do excuse me a moment. All the...dancing has made me hungry," she says, and then is moving away to grab a bit of this and that from the boufet.

"So, Lady Lyra Byrne...first and best lesson of etiquette. If you stay at a party long enough, the servants will almost INSIST you take some home. So you don't look the boor that just takes a bunch of food home." Michael has the face of someone who is probably teasing someone. Probably. "Second lesson, I think this is High Lady Liara's favorite part of parties. When she gets to enjoy all of her planning because everyone who was going to get here as already gotten and been here."

Handing a glass of the old Mercier to Kaia as she's walking to the food, Martino is laughing afar to Michael, "Oh now no stories today. I would not dare risk my heart up in a tree." Stepping across to Valarian as his auburn eyes look towards both he and Kaia, Martino is narrowing distance before dipping his head slight, "Ah Messere Harrow, yes? Good to meet, good to meet. Welcome, you met many here?"

Greta the Information Broker have been dismissed.

If you show up to the afterparty but were never there at the original party? Is that still considered fashionably late? Because if so, then Cristoph has really nailed it this time. He comes sweeping in, gesturing for Rupert to stop following him around so closely with the words, "I'm going to be fine. You don't need to babysit me this time, I promise you." The poor man looks a little concerned about his liege and while he isn't /following/ him, he remains within eyesight in case he needs to run some kind of interference for him.

Ivy smiles up at Nazmir and lifts a shrug, "I really don't go that many places, its only that Master Felix's shop somehow seems to attract -everyone- to it. So I end up meeting people when I go to visit or stop by to check on his animals, or ask about a commission. I didn't know when I struck up the friendship that I was befriending a hub of social activity." Chuckling, she looks back to Deva and shake sher head, "Its really quite alright, the meeting was brief. But thank you. It -was- rather sudden but we're delighted with the turn of events that lead us to the betrothal." She chuckles softly, enjoying a sip of wine.

Khadija, a most lovely voice of reason arrives, delivering a message to Ivy before departing.

Lyra returns Kaia's beming smile with one of her own. It's only as Kaia retreats and Martino turns to speak with another that she tilts her head to her couch companions advice. "Well that makes sense I suppose. Far less clearing up to do if the mess walks out of the doors with the last of the guests. Platters would be returned clean no doubt and the host or hostess avoids serving up leftovers for several meals to follow." Some crumbs have somehow managed to escape being caught by her plate as she commences on another of the tiny delicate pastries, so she brushes them briskly off to one side. A glance in Liara's direction. "You'll have to introduce me properly to our High Lady. I only managed a brief hello on first arriving since there were so many others also attempting the same." She flicks those crumbs away. Flick. Flick. Flick.

Deva is slouched on a couch with a glass in each hand. She waves the full one at Cristoph, except in doing so some sprays over the rim and onto herself. In her hair, on her dress. Oops. With a sigh, she drains the other one in one long, unnecessary gulp. "So you like--" she starts to say, looking between Ivy and Nazmir. It's mid-sentence that she realizes she should probably change course, and she just widens a very awkward smile instead. "That's great," she insists, trying to sound super enthusiastic instead of as tipsy as she is.

Polishing off the last of the meal that she came in to find - something with a whole lot of vegetables and gravy - Liara scoots to her feet and goes to mingle. Overhearing her name, she casts a quick smile towards Michael and Lyra, though doesn't intrude beyond that.

"Oh good! I should, shouldn't I? Lets go then." Michael stands up from the sofa....and has no idea how he keeps getting crumbs on his lap. He'll brush at them swiftly before turning to offer his hand towards Lyra. "Lets go now, before she decides to do something crazy. Like chardes or something."

Murmuring hush for a moment, Martino's head is dipping before turning away from the conversation. Catching Lyra's glance once more, he's moving across to the sofa with a slight sip of his drink, "Ah Lady Lyra, my. It was good to see those lessons did pay off in part. Was good to see you upon the dancefloor."

Cristoph has joined the a regal sofa with green silk cushions and silver accented carvings.

Navigating the clusters of people in the room, Cristoph catches sight of the glass being waved at him. He begins to angle in that direction, but on spotting Liara, he dips in her direction. "High Lady Liara, excellent to be at one of your functions again. Lord Bisland." That's for Michael. And then the Oathlander is going about his way again, to the couches! "Lady Blackram, congratulations on your betrothal. I look forward to spotting the soon to be Lord Blackram attending our events and other such things." He sinks down onto the couch without inquiring about permission or anything, eyeballing Deva's one empty and one full glass of wine situation.

While Jaenelle missed the ball itself, thank the Gods there is an afterparty to attend so she doesn't miss everything due to work and duty. No one should attempt to murder her here, so her guards scatter around the Grayson mansion and leave the guarding to Grayson to deal with. Having come alone, a glass of wine is take from a passing servant as she moves throughout the room in an attempt to see who is there, and whom she might know from that pool.

With a shrug, Deva holds out her mostly full glass to Cristoph for the taking. "Tada." Then she leans away to flag a passing server and ask with such hope, "Please tell me there's still whiskey somewhere?" Her now empty glass is given in trade, so she may now fuss with one of the throw pillows in her lap instead of splashing anyone further just yet.

"What, now?" Lyra asks of Michael as she struggles to finish her mouthful of food. There's a faint look of disbelief that briefly shows in her face as she unfurls her legs from beneath her and fishes on the floor for those abandoned slippers. How is it one of the pair always seems to not be where she left it? One careful hand collects up her plate and she's allowing Michael with her free one to pull her to her feet. "You have crumbs on you." No recognition of guilt there, just a small dusting of her breeches with the tips of her fingers once she's reclaimed her hand from his. Her eyes do dart to someone in the room when Michael whispers something quietly for her ears only, and a nod of her head is given. "I'll bear that in mind. Thank you."

Cristoph has taken up residence on the regal sofa, accepting a glass of wine from Deva while exchanging a few quiet words. He looks reasonably amused by whatever that bit of conversation is. Then he tips the glass back to his lips and enjoys a sip of it. Alas, he does not really any whispers from Michael as amusing as that reaction would probably be.

Liara pauses on her wandering way along to offer Cristoph a quick and easy smile. "It is good to see you here, Duke Laurent - you're very welcome." The Grayson slips further on through the hall, taking a momentary detour when she spots Jaenelle to greet her, "Welcome, your grace. Things have mostly wrapped up, although there is still a good selection from the Merciers' cellars which we had brought in."

Ivy offers a quick smile towards Cristoph as he joins Deva on the couch, "Thank you, my lord. I am actually working on an event now that I suspect he will be in attendance at. One you might enjoy yourself. The Great Golden Fainter Race of 1015! I even have a grand prize already crafted up." She chuckles, "It promises to be an interesting event. I may have some surprises in store, and might have need of collaborators as well."

So amusing. Michael directs Lyra along towards Lady Liara now, a side-eye towards Kaia and another mutter of something something. Clearly some smack-talking though by means of Michael's smirk. Then they slow as Jaenelle gets to Liara so that they arrive just after welcomes and hellos are done. "Princess Liara, Archduchess Jaenelle? This is Lady Lyra Byrne. A somewhat recent arrival out of Cedar Vale."

Martino swirls his glass for a moment, allowing the liquid from the Merciers' to kiss and open up around the bouquet. Sipping onto it once more, exhaling at the taste before dipping his torso lowly towards Jaenelle, "Ah Archduchess, a delight to see you."

With a new whiskey in hand, Deva scoots forward until she's sitting on the edge of the couch. Probably not the best idea. But she's upright-- for now! "That sounds fascinating. Faint racing?" Her eyes go wide at Ivy as she pictures it. "I'm in if you need it." A hand slaps to her own knee for emphasis.

"Are you? Ah! That's a Blackram breed of goats, yes?" Cristoph asks of Ivy while he leans back into the couch, sipping slowly from the glass of wine. He puts his arm along the back, sinking down into a slouch. "You can expect that I'll be there. And if you need any assistance with planning, let me know." He's turned back to Deva for a moment, clearing his throat and suppressing a smile before he nods once and then glances out to the room.

Lyra manages to hand off her carefully constructed plate of food to one of the servants en-route to Liara and Janenelle. It leaves her hands free to deal, quite expertly some might say, with the skirts of her gown as she dips low in a curtsey. "Princess Liara. Archduchess." A second to hold that curtsey before she rises and offers a smile to both. "Actually, not /that/ much of a recent arrival if I'm to be honest. It's quite the case of me not getting my nose out of the books to make the social rounds that perhaps makes Lord Bisland think that I'm newer than I am."

A delicate half curtsey from Jaenelle is given towards Liara, being in the woman's home in her ward and all. "Sometimes attending something which has wrapped is a bit nicer than something that is but in the middle. A chance to talk without the greeting of all who enter, a chance to dance should one be so moved. The relax of an event well attended that allows you to glow in the aftermath is what every hostess desires in the end. I am sorry I was unable to attend the actual ball though." Turning towards Michael and Lyra, Jaenelle smiles brightly for both, "it is a pleasure to meet you Lady Byrne. I do enjoy meeting people who I have not had the chance to. It is always as if starting on an adventure, who knows where it will go. Lord Michael, it has been some time since we last saw one another. You are well?" Martino is noted and a smile turned his way before she does another small dip of her head, "Lord Martino, when is this Malvici dinner you so recently promised to host in my honor." Maybe it wasnt in her honor, but it sounds good.

"Golden faitners are one of the breeds we specialize in, yes. They're the ones that have that unique quality where they stiffen and fall over when startled. So if during their race someone were to, say... blow a horn rather suddenly? Who knows what would happen!" Ivy curls a brief smile, sipping from her glass before nodding to Deva, "Excellent! Would you like to be one of the callers paired with a goat? Or would you prefer to be a conspirator?" Her gaze shifts to Cristoph once more, chuckling, "If you would like to conspire, my lord, I would be all too happy to have your assistance."

Liara mentions to Jaenelle, half-turning to look back across the hall, "If you care to avail of the opportunity to dance, there are several splendid dancers yet in attendance, though I dare say you know them already." Her attention shifting as as Michael and Lyra approach, Liara offers up a light smile to both, then replies to Lyra, "I very much understand the feeling, my lady, although I suppose I should say paperwork rather than books. You are most welcome here - have you had the opportunity to visit the mansion before?"

"Goats?" Deva mouths, looking between Cristoph and Ivy. One can practically see the question marks in her eyes. Her shoulders slouch, betraying her disappointment. Clearly she was imagining something else entirely. "You mean they just--" The Redrain starts to tip to the side in an exaggerated fashion, as if she might just flip right over the arm of the couch. But, mercifully, she's not quite that drunk and puts herself upright again. "I have no idea what any of that means but honestly, I'm happy to be involved however you need, Lady Blackram."

"Oh it shall have to be quite soon Archduchess, the family have been asking me and Kaia when we are hosting one." Glancing across to his wife, Martino's eyes are crinkling in Kaia's direction as she's returning to his side. Arm-and-elbow locking in as he's dipping his head once more to Jaenelle, "So expect quite the invitation. We should, finally, let our nannies rest so thank you." Setting his drink to a servant, Martino's mming before quietly taking his leave once more.

Jasper, a treasure hunting gyrfalcon, Portia, a tittering and bashful lady's maid, Renato, an overconfident attendant, Bastien, a strapping Malvici escort leave, following Kaia.

an immaculately dressed assistant named Johannes, a slightly embarrassed courier called Guido, Cosimo de'Malvici, the Southport banker, Kaia leave, following Martino.

"I was lying, Lady Lyra." Michael says bluntly aside to Lyra. Jaenelle though gets his attention now, and a widening smile. "I am well. Aside from the occasional attempt to stab me with inanimate objects. A mild concussion about a month ago. I distinctly remember thinking you were a fine dancer. Envious green is not a color I wear very easily, would you care to remedy the lack of dance in my life?" A hand gets offered sideways towards Jaenelle, as Michael glances towards where the dancefloor still is somewhat crowded.

Tris, a Kite of the Cloudspine arrives, delivering a message to Ivy before departing.

"I'm positive that my sister has one of those goats," Cristoph states, squinting off into the distance as if he's trying to remember for sure. "Or perhaps my cousin. It's hard to keep track, the Laurents have a lot of animals." He runs his hand over his jawline, recently shaved of that short beard he'd been keeping. The wine is brought to his lips and when Deva realizes that it's goats and not- something else, he starts to laugh. It's a low and quiet chuckle and he only looks mildly amused when she starts to tip over a little.

So that whole...thing with his mild outburst earlier with the Queen nonwithstanding, Volya has been floundering or floating or flailing about in his own way. Which is really drifting from one table to the next, listening to random talk, or just generally observing people has been his choice of diversion in the time since the ball wound down and the afterparty started. Currently, he's hovering somewhere in the vicinity of the dance floor and a table that's been functioning as a bar. Probably his favorite spot so far tonight.

Laughing lightly, Ivy nods to Deva, "The Golden Fainters are a breed of goat from the Sroneburner Hills that Blackram created through some selective breeding." She nods to the Princess' pantomime and murmurs, "That's right. They've been known to tip themselves over just because a dog barked or someone lets out a whistle unexpectedly. Some are quick to recover, others take a moment. Its rather amusing to watch a flock just keel over before hopping back up and going about their business as if nothing had happened." She looks to Cristoph and chuckles, "I gifted one to Lady Mabelle myself not terribly long ago. That said, I will be selecting fainters from the herd and those who want to be callers will be able to keep their fainters after. That way anyone who wants to participate, can. If anyone HAS a fainter and wishes to enter them into the race, they can do that as well."

"I quite agree. Getting to know someone is like turning the pages of a book. You never know what the next turn of that page will reveal." Lyra smiles to Jaenelle. She takes a step to the side as Michael invites the archduchess to dance, allowing her enough time to bid Martino and Kaia a good evening, or at least what's left of it. "Not before now, Princess," she notes to Liara as her attention is swiftly caught by her question. "I was recently told that it's always open to be visited however, so shall have to make more of an effort to do so." A pause as hands come together in a knot behind her back. "I wonder, does your library contain within it copies of maps? I recently lost something on which I was working and there's some details that I need to check upon. The Archives of Vellichor were unable to help me, but you never know what can be unearthed in private collections."

"That sounds like some people I know," Deva is quick to realize as she gives Ivy a long, thoughtful look between sips of whiskey. "You can clap once and they scatter to the wind. Huh. I look forward to seeing some in person," she laughs brightly into her drink, her amusement genuine as it crinkles the corners of her eyes. "I think my brother would be pretty annoyed if I brought more animals home, but..." Her eyes gleam with unspoken mischief. Not even Cristoph's laugh bothers her. She just grins wider.

Clearly there is a conspiracy and Liara is Michael's dance wingman. Jaenelle shifts her attention from Liara and towards Michael as his hand is extended outward. She places her hand within the waiting one, "I find that should I say no, I shall be the villian in at least three new children's story books passed out to the Crownlands where the mean Archduchess shattered the brave and honorable Lord Michael by refusing a simple request. I would love to dance with you, Lord Michael, should you be free to do so and your past misfortunes do not hinder your abilities to move and talk at the same time. I see your concussion and raise you a slip and plummet from a rope ladder. Lady Kiera then /fell/ on me." When Lyra speaks of libraries and map, "I hope you find what you are seeking. I can look in my private collection as well, should you wish it." Then she allows Michael to lead her away.

Liara indicates the way out towards the Queenspeace Hall as she replies to Lyra, "You are certainly welcome to peruse it if you wish, my lady, although failing that, might I suggest that you ask Princess Lou? She has initiated a project of late of mapping certain regions. As for the mansion in general, certainly, much of the ground floor is open to visit as you will - you are welcome to avail of the lounge in the Bastion Wing, especially." Overhearing Jaenelle, Liara winces just a bit at the mention of slipping from a rope ladder, but passes no comment.

"You turned out JUST FINE, Archduchess!" Deva blurts unnecessarily from where she sits, waving at Jaenelle with her glass.

Jaenelle turns her head towards where Deva sits, flashing her a grin, "I would have been better if you caught me!"

Cristoph is opening his mouth to say something this is doubt very enlightening about goats and all of their kind, but just as he does so, Deva is shouting at Jaenelle from the spot next to him. He briefly flinches from the suddenness of it, nearly spilling his wine on his clothes. Then he erupts into laughter, quick to cover his mouth and obtain his composure once more. Ah hem.

Dance-Dance-Wingman. Not that Lyra is bothering him at all with her talks of maps. "I promise you I am wholly incapable of writing children's books, Princess." Jaenelle's hand is taken up and a gentle tug pulls her away from the conversation starting between Lyra and Liara. Who's names aren't spelled too similarly or sound similar when spoken out loud. Not at all. "Lady Kiera fell on you? That seems an unfortunate event. I promise to be gentle with you upon the dancefloor." He'll wave to Lyra over his shoulder though as he guides the Archduchess towards the dancefloor and conversation.

Since there's not a whole lot to do at the moment, with a drink in hand, Volya start to mousey around once again, eventually falling somewhere near Deva who's watching Jaenelle get her dancing on, then seeing who she's dancing with. "Not for nothing, but had you been wearing a vest, she would've asked you for a dance first. Just saying." he calls over. "Speaking from personal experience."

"I'll be a better pillow for you next time," Deva promises, with a hand held over her heart and a cheeky grin on lips for Jaenelle. Cristoph's amusement only reinforces her own, and she ends up sinking further into the couch with a bounce of red curls and a crinkle of her nose. "Oh, Jaenelle? Is a vest what would've made her dance with me? Ugh! I knew I shouldn't have worn a dress," she scoffs to herself, shaking her head at Volya as she adjusts the awkward drape of her neckline. "No Archduchess dances for me today," she sighs dramatically.

Ivy glances between Cristoph and Deva, a smile on her lips before she dips her head to Deva and murmurs, "I am a poor substitute for an Archduchess, but I would be glad for a dance if you would like to." She offers a hand out to Deva and glances to Cristoph, "If you believe I can be trusted with Her Highness for the measure of a dance, my lord?"

Even as they are walking towards the dance floor, Jaenelle laughs at what Volya states. Upon passing him, she shrugs as if certain things cannot be helped. "Lord Volya. you are starting trouble I see" and her eyes shift between Deva and the man. "Lord Volya and I have yet to enjoy a dance, though he now has to work a bit harder for such an honor. I would be happy to dance with you anytime, my favorite cousin named Deva." Then her full attention is on her partner and her voice lowers just a bit for something more private.

"What. A. Tragedy." Volya says in what's more or less faux-disbelief. "The gall. The *nerve*. That makes me drink just thinking about it." And he does exactly that with the burbon he has in his hand. "She hasn't told you that story yet. That's exactly how I met. I had lost my shirt that day and...well anyways, long story is that I ironically wound up in a shop with her. Though I didn't know who she was until recently. This is what I get for knowing literally no one here." Another pause then. "Alright so, I'm definitely not the Archduchess and I definitely don't look as good in a dress, but if you're looking for a dance..." he trails off, one shoulder giving a shrug. "Sup." But then the woman herself passes by. "Look, my Archduchess, you ask a bit out of me, yeah? I mean, what's next? The next shop I run into at I have to be nude for a dance?" he asks, then stopping. "Not saying I wouldn't but the last time that happened, I wasn't allowed out of the demense in Nilanza for a week." Another pause. "Long story."

"That's very kind of you. Thank you." Lyra notes to Jaenelle as she's led towards the dancefloor, her eyes then following in the direction where Liara gestures. "Oh that's wonderful. A treat to be enjoyed. I'll certainly send word to Princess Lou as well and see if she's anything that would be of help to me too." A stretch is given her aching calf muscles by way of a lift onto her toes and slow slow return of her heels to the ground. "I should probably start to make my way back to Byrne Manor now, but I'd like to thank you again for hosting such a lovely evening." Her smile is bright as a curtsey is dipped, the chains that lace the back of her gown together glinting and chiming a little as she returns to the straight. "I have a meeting with a ptential patron come the morning, and I'd hate to look anything less than my best. Her smile is bright as she starts to retreat.

Liara gives a quick little nod in understanding to Lyra, "But of course. I wish you all the best with that, my lady, and I am sure you will look just splendid." She offers Lyra a smile and then slips away, on across the hall, this time to fetch herself a cup of tea (or, more accurately, to trouble one of the staff to fetch her one).

"I didn't know there was a guidebook on getting dances with you, your grace." Michael teases Jaenelle after they pass Volya. "I'm sure vests are being tailored as we speak across Arx to gather your attention. Reds perhaps? I look better in greens though." Then they pause a moment on the dance, Michael's arm finding its waist around Jaenelle's waist to wait for a moment or two to find the steps before they begin.

"Oh, by all means. I wouldn't dare get in the way of your dance and Princess Deva certainly doesn't need my protection," Cristoph replies to Ivy with an easy show of amusement. "I'll see you in seven or eight dances," he remarks to Deva next in a teasing tone when it seems that Volya is offering as well. "Then after?" he lets somewhat vague question hang there a moment before leaning back.

Lyra has left the silver seasilk sofa of superb repose.

2 Obsidian Brigade Guards leaves, following Lyra.

"Hey, me too! I -was- a poor substitute for an Archduchess." Deva says this so matter-of-factly to Ivy, and it spills forth from her lips before she can even register what she's saying. "Careful, I have my dancing boots on," she beams at the other woman, then slapping a hand in the other woman's so they can hit the dance floor. "Thank you, dearest Archduchess!" A kiss is blown Jaenelle's way as she waltzes by. "You lost your shirt? Literally?" That is blinked in bewilderment at Volya as she and Lady Blackram retreat. "You're next, Duke!" What that means, who even knows.

"For the record, the vest was black with silver piping." Volya states. "For some reason black is likely mandatory after joining Malespero." he holds a hand, adding, "No, I don't know, that was just apart of the beginner's guide that I was made to read after being adopted. You can wear any color you want, so long as it's black. I don't make up the rules, I just go along with it." Whatever this guide may or may not be real, the man is wearing black. High collared and ankle-length long dress coat. "Oh no, it's fine, I see how it is." he comments towards Deva after his offer to dance is shot down, smiling though, so not put out or anything. "And for the record, I lost my shirt. Rather, I gave it away, but eh, semantics really. "Nah, you go first, sirrah. I don't know anyone here. I only barely know the Archduchess, but she's probably seen more of me than she'd ever want to."

"Did you have another shirt to replace that one? Or did you give it away when you had no shirt to spare at all?" Cristoph wonders, because these are really the important questions of laugh. He does however listen on with intent amusement at the description of the Malespero dress code. "I've never actually noticed that to be the case. But I also haven't been paying attention. I'm sure that you all enjoy all of the various shades of gray too."

Ivy tucks Deva's hand into her arm and smiles towards the Princess, "I've had direhorns step on my feet, Your Highness, you can surely do no worse than they have." She leads Deva out to the dancefloor, offering a smile and nod towards Jaenelle and Michael before taking position and starting with a few simple steps to get them going, giving them a few moments to move into the whirl of the dancers on the floor. "How are you enjoying your return to the city?"

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Ivy before departing.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Ivy before departing.

Nazmir had been here the whole time. He just got pulled away by a messenger for something entirely unrelated to partying. And it took a little bit of time for whatever issue was being dealt with to be resolved, leaving the Prince free to return from a quiet alcove and to the main floor, snagging himself another drink in the process.

"Sorry, did I miss something?" Deva starts to ask Volya, but then she's thoroughly distracted by dancing and trying not to step on Ivy's feet. One can likely blame all the drinks she has had for distracting her from critical bits of conversation. "Direhorns! What an interesting life you lead, Ivy," she notes warmly. The simpler the steps the better, probably, given the care she moves with. "You know, it's kind of a mixed bag. A lot of good, a lot of bad, all of it together is pretty overwhelming sometimes. But it's mostly-- feels like I should be here," she says in a strangely delicate tone. "Do you like it here?"

"Oh stop that" Jaenelle tells Deva, clicking her tongue regarding the woman's time as the Lyceum Archduchess. She listens to the story of how she met Volya, informing Cristoph, "so he says that he gave his shirt to someone who needed it more than he did and did not have a shirt to replace. It was an honorable shirt giving. So he says. I like to think I believe his telling."

At some point, Liara slips back out of the hall to head back upstairs.

"It was *nothing*, really." Volya holds a hand up, taking a drink. "I was travelling with a family of recently freed thralls and they wanted a new start in Arx. Didn't have a lot of clothes, gave'em my shirt. And my cloak. And a couple of other things. I can always get another shirt." He pauses. "I've been there. Know what being that poor is like. Wasn't much but I did something about it." He sighs, shaking his head. "Archduchess making me look like some kind of swell guy. I'm just some sod who got lucky. That's really all there is to it. But. If I happen to start a fashion trend based on vest, you'll have her to thank for it. Trendsetter that she is."

Nodding to Deva, Ivy seems to understand at least in part, what she's experiencing. "City life has its ups and downs. I will always at heart wish to be in the hills and mountains of my home, but I cannot deny that the city has brought me and mine opportunity that we would not have had otherwise." She glances back towards Nazmir with a fond smile, "I woud not have met my betrothed without being here." Her gaze shifts back to Deva, "I would never have made such a friend as Master Felix, or been able to dance with you. So yes, I like the city, even if I sometimes wish that it weren't quite so crowded, or enclosed."

"I think it's best when you can take advantage of both-- escape home when you can, so you'll enjoy your time here all the more. I'd say something philosophical about balance or something if I had the mind for it," Deva muses with a shrug of a shoulder. "Enjoy all of it while you can," she lowers her voice and gives Ivy a pointed 'no really' look, like she's trying to convey something more meaningful than her words can convey. "Speaking of..." Spying Nazmir, she starts to escort Ivy to her betrothed. "You two need a turn to dance too, don't you?"

"Oh, I see," Cristoph replies on further clarification from Volya as well Jaenelle. "Well, I don't have any reason to necessarily disbelieve it." Or maybe it would seem that there's no reason for him to bother worrying about it with any significant energy. The glass of wine that he was handed by Deva earlier is drained and he passes off the empty vessel to a server. He gives a quick shake of his head when another is offered, choosing instead to lean back once more into the couch. Rupert passes by, murmuring something to the duke before drifting off again.

"The last time I had lost my shirt was as a judge for the Tournament of Thorns. A solid month of the city of Arx pranking me to earn bronze thorns." Michael's eyes close and his shoulders shudder as he dances. "It was a nightmare. No food was safe, no journey sedate. No chair able to be trusted."

Lifting his glass to his lips, Nazmir is taking a small sip of the wine within, only to then catch sight of Ivy and Deva on the dance floor. There's a smile given when Ivy looks over towards him and when Deva then begins to escort her in his direction and he happens to catch her comment, there's a soft little laugh that falls past his lips, "We danced earlier in the evening, Deva, so please don't cut it short on my behalf."

"I intend to enjoy everything I can while I am able, Your Highness. No part of my life is taken for granted, all of it is a gift and I try to treat it as such." Ivy responds softly to Deva, smiling as she's lead back towards Nazmir. THere's a small chuckle as she murmurs, "I do believe the Princess is still looking to claim a dance from the Duke, my Prince. And I will never turn down the opportunity to dance with you." There's a smile turned towards Deva, and a nod, "Thank you for the dance, Your Highness."

"I don't recommend anyone losing their shirt in winter. In fact, I'd really advise against it. Unless, y'know, that's a thing you're into. In which case, knock yourself out. Just don't blame me for any frostbite you may or may not get." Volya says off-handedly, going back to his drink and continuing to watch from his perch.

"There's enough dancing for everyone," Deva sounds confident of this, and tells Nazmir so with a lopsided grin. There's a quick squeeze given to Ivy's arm, her expression thoughtful as she listens to the woman's response. "Good-- good. I'm glad. I'm really glad." She exhales a breath, her gaze betraying the fact that she's got a flurry of feelings -- and maybe regrets -- on the matter. "Thank -you- for your time, Lady Blackram." As she takes a few steps back toward the couch where Cristoph sits, she places one hand on the back of the couch while leaning in to say something quietly with a look toward the rest of the room.

While the dancing is going on, Cristoph becomes mildly distracted by Rupert handing off something to him. Wasn't he literally just there? Well, he's back! And away again. The letter is opened up and he skims it, his expression looking generally unhappy. Not in a furious away or anything. Just a bit /annoyed/. He folds it over and slips it into his inside pocket with a quiet sigh. Once that's complete he lifts his head to find that Deva is leaning over the couch to speak to him. He lifts his chin further to catch her eyes. What she's saying to him wipes away some of that lingering irritation over the mail. "Once?" he suggests, tipping his chin to the dance floor.

"Well, in that case, far be it from me to stand in the way of such a thing," is what Nazmir offers to Ivy, only to then look back over towards Deva, "And yes, there most certainly is." A quick smile is given to her, along with an incline of his head before his gaze darts over in the direction she moves before he's then turning his attention back over towards Ivy, grin replacing the smile now, "Nor would I turn down any chance to dance with you, either, Ivy. But that's not to say I'd monopolize your time on the dance floor." He does extend one hand towards her now.

Jaenelle and Michael have continued dancing, their conversation quiet enough not to get picked up by ears very easily. He'll interrupt and dip the Grand Duchess backwards to lower her down towards the floor before scooping her back upright into his grasp. Because showing off is absolutely allowed!

"Hey! Jasper." Deva calls out for her assistant who is probably busy having a really great time flirting with someone in a dark corner. She points him toward Cristoph's assistant, Rupert, and makes general 'go distract him or something' gestures with her hands. She gesticulates more broadly than she realizes. There's nothing subtle about it. "Once," she echoes simply, and begins to turn toward the dance floor.

Tsking lightly, Ivy smiles up at Nazmir and shakes her head, "Every moment is a gift, we should enjoy them." A paraphrase of her comment to Deva, but the sentiment remains the same. She takes Nazmir's hand and turns back towards the dance floor, offering a smile towards Deva and Cristoph along the way.

This is the crux of going stag to parties. Nobody really available to dance with. Which really fine for Volya, he's happy to sit back, drink, and observe people enjoy themselves. Idly, he picks out a single silver coin from his pocket, rolling the small disc back and forth across his knuckles with one hand while his glass occupies the other.

Nazmir is offering a low chuckle to Ivy's comment, even as he gives a nod of his head towards her, "That it is, my dear. I could never dispute that." A squeeze to her hand and then he's making his way out towards the dance floor, offering a smile and a nod to Deva and Cristoph and then another to Michael and Jaenelle before he's turning to face Ivy so that he can slip his arms around her.

Rupert can see you, Deva. He SEES you. But also he sees Jasper coming at him and looks generally aggrieved that the man is coming toward him. Apparently socializing at parties really isn't his thing. Meanwhile, Cristoph is fairly amused by his assistant's plight. With his glass already discarded, he's not encumbered in following after Deva to the dance floor. He catches up to her in a few long steps, offering his arm for the rest of the walk. When they reach the rest of the dancers, he slips into her space to start up a quiet conversation that doesn't carry much further than the two of them.

Even though she's a fair distance away now, Deva overhears that bit between Ivy and Nazmir and gives the two a quick, affirmative smile. Now it's time for round two-- will she clomp all over Cristoph's feet?! Hopefully not. Probably not, she seems a lot more sober now. Any looks Rupert sends her way are met with a too-cheerful grin before she drifts into a quiet conversation with the duke.

Lou is a fashion nightmare, traipsing down the stairs in her explorer's outfit. But then, she looks completely surprised to see a bunch of people in the hall. For a Voice, she's not quite up to date on the whole social calendar thing. "Oh. Hey. We have guests," she exclaims.

Ramona - A Guard in Ashford House Colours, Bigsby - A Thoughtful Looking Young Man in Nondescript Clothing, 2 Ashford Archer, 1 Ashford Scout arrive, following Lisebet.

Cristoph's boots remain undestroyed by Deva's dancing skills, it's possible that they're going to live to see another ball. Whatever question was just posed the princess results in laughter from both parties and at the end, the duke is shaking his head quickly and there's a small lift of his shoulders as if explaining something.

Jaenelle and Michael make their way off of the dance floor finally and back towards the sofa. "/Lou/!" Is what Michael calls at her. "Yes. Well. I think the ball has ended and people are starting to leave. We're squatting though."

Expecting the ball to be over, Lisebet makes her way into the Grayson great hall quietly, somewhat surprised to see people still here.

Lou positively beams at Jaenelle when she uses the correct mode of address. "Ah. So I missed it then." That doesn't seem to upset her too often. "Which is probably just as well as I spent most of the day sleeping off a particularly long sojourn I took in the Gray Forest yesterday. Traveling in snow is pretty exhausting," she says wisely.

Ivy seems all too happy to return to another dance with Nazmir, following his lead to whirl and sway around the floor. She begins a small conversation with him, just between the two, though smiles are offered to the people they pass on the floor.

Deva moves with the music, no stress, avoiding catastrophe and stumbling. She seems to follow up with a conversation more serious in nature, something told to Cristoph with a very straight face. It doesn't last forever-- eventually her expression breaks again, and she fights back a laugh and tries to bury a smile behind splayed fingers.

Whatever Ivy says is enough to draw a soft laugh from Nazmir, along with a little nod of his head as he murmurs back to her. He continues to guide her along the dancefloor in that dance, taking it slow and just moving along slowly to the music.

Volya finishes off his drink. Something seems to cross his mind, giving the man a rather pensive look on his face as he slowly saunters on toward the exit. Time to move on for now.

"The Gray Forest in particular. I don't know what it is about it, but my hair always gets prickled there. Its nerve racking." Michael moves to the sofa to plop back down and drink from a glass he had left behind.

Lou raises a brow at Michael, somewhat amused. "Is it the tainted animals you've come across, or some other venture? Some parts of the forest are more dangerous than others. Or, perhaps, you feel like you're being stalked by one of the shav'arvani tribes that lives there?" she suggests. "Unless of course it's the Bisland part of the forest, and you have some of the same dark issues as House Leary does?" So little is said there but so much is hinted at. "Then there's the mysterious cloaked figures you could run into," she remarks, catching Lisebet walking through and winking in her direction at that comment. "People you didn't quite expect to run into, and have never met face to face before, when you were poking at something that's best left alone."

Lisebet catches the mention of the Gray Forest and she chuckles. "Don't even mention it - it makes me shiver," is her comment. "From the cold, that is." She might be eyecatching if only because the petite duchess is not wearing a dress but a full set of leather armor. And she looks comfortable in it.

Deva is speaking to him and Cristoph's expression is at first serious, until suddenly it breaks. He snorts and then he laughs, quickly moving his hand to his mouth to subdue that too loud sound that he makes. It takes but a moment and then he's returning to the proper frame of this dance. So far catastrophe has been averted.

Dark and foreboding tidings being spoken by Lou holds Michael's attention for a long while. Before his hand reaches aside and patpatpats the couch next to him. "You, have utterly failed at discouraging me for venturing out into the Forest some more. If you have stories, I'd love to hear them. I understand if you're particularly tired though. I've mostly only done caravan guarding through those areas."

Lou ? Tired of stories? BAH! She chuckles softly. "I never tire of stories, though I am most certain that others often tire of my stories," she tells him. She moves to settle down on the silver sofa with him. "What stories do you want? The time I stayed the night in a cave with large wolves in the north? Tales of Whitepeak before the Metallic Traitor had insects start eating the city for it's magic?" Yes, Lou /just/ said that, but then Queen Symonesse once interrupted a meeting about Eurus to give a dire warning about him. And, she says it as if it's an off the cuff thing that might be old news, even if it's certainly not to some. "The time that I went to the Everwinter and helped rescue a family of five dwarves with Calaudrin, or tales of my sojourn to Brightshore in the Bright Sea, far past the Saffron Chain?" It's quite a list. "Though, there was that one time I got kidnapped by one of the Crownlands tribes of shav'arvani and we helped rescue them from an Abyssal tainted northern tribe, er - once someone rescued me of course," she says with a flush.

Shaking her head at Cristoph, Deva shrugs both shoulders in a 'what can you do?' impish fashion. There's a quick look around the room, a smile given to those left, and then she gives the Duke something of a questioning expression.

Lou has joined the silver seasilk sofa of superb repose.

Ivy smiles brilliantly at something Nazmir says and responds to him quietly but with great animation to her features. Ah, betrothed people, so sweet it makes the teeth ache! She murmurs something else to him and tilts her head in the direction of 'not the dance floor' and lifts a brow, smiling.

"Any of it? All of it. I've found that my parents have kept me more or less confined to Arx unless I slip out unseen into the countryside to see something of the world." Michael turns sideways as Lou sits beside him to turn his attention onto her. "Perhaps we'll start with something closer to home, hm?"

Nazmir is giving a warm smile to Ivy and an eager nod of his head to whatever it is that is said. Then, he's answering in kind, only to follow her gaze to the side and then back to her, to give another quick little nod.

Lisebet stops by the couch. "Lou, M'lord Michael," she greets with a smile. "I know I am very late, but I thought I'd come by and see if there was anyone left to chat with for a bit."

"I can remedy that, Lord Michael." Lou tells him easily, giving him an amused look. "Help get you more acclimated to the world. Then you too will learn that the very best thing about being an explorer is getting confirmation that all of your nagging fears about terrible horrors lurking in the world are completely justified!" It's one of Lou's favorite and best quotes. "Why, Duchess Lisebet can even attest that I'll try to get you home safely, after we were nearly shot exploring in the Gray Forest last evening. At least we didn't fall into a snow covered cave or pit," she chirps at Lisebet happily.

The conversation has settled down slightly and now Cristoph is giving Deva the questioning expression. There are many mysterious questions being asked. What could they all be?