Edain makes his way into the vow, along side his sister, the mighty Princess Alis. He is.. dressed much like he usually is. His clothers are neat and clean and freshly pressed, but they are his typical modest arrangement...

...Except for the fancy blue silk cap, edged with silver braiding and with a brilliant white dragon embroidered across the back. Edain fusses with the pin that holds it in place and looks to his sister. "So you really read that this is a cape that the Prince of Sanctum is supposed to wear to formal occasions or did you just make that up."

The Valardin Manor is barely recognizable from its usual state of functional ceremony and as some other Houses would say rigid prudishness into an extravagant setting for a Grand Ball to celebrate the Summer and the glory of the Compact.

Arrangements of flowers in various colors and hues have been set throughout the Manor and the edges of tables, railings and chairs are adorned with carefully woven lilies of blue and white; the colors of House Valardin.

As each guest arrives, they are set to be announced by a rather stern-faced man wearing ceremonial full plate mail with a gold-etched halberd. The Knight would have been recognizable as a near-permanent fixture in the Audience Hall most of the time and no doubt his hands were full with all of the guests and titles he had to announce.

Tradition had to be respected though and House Valardin were quite fond of both tradition and ceremony.

While other areas of the Manor have been setup to entertain guests, the Grand Ball itself is hosted in a large chamber full of grandeur and majesty known as The Vow.

Like the rest of the Manor, The Vow has been decorated extensively. At the Honor Table, food has been setup while impeccably dressed servants wait to serve any guest, whether noble or commoner alike with the delights that the Chefs available to House Valardin have provided. The Cavalier table has been setup with a variety of alcohol and other refreshments and much like the Honor Table; there are servants waiting to serve the guests with impeccable manners and courtesy.

Much of the room is dominated by the Main Floor which has been cleared save ornate decorations including a large candelabra chandelier that takes the servants over 2 hours to light.

An assortment of musicians have been gathered from across the compact including some of the greatest from Sanctum to provide the majority of the entertainment and set the tone for the dances.

Alis is in her typical Valardin blue and white; but hey, it's a different cut this time okay? More like a handkerchief cut. And far more whimsical then she usually is comfortable with. And of course her expression is slightly wry at Edain's comments about the dashing cape he's wearing. "I made it up." she admits freely. "But for a noble cause. So it doesn't count against any Knightly vows." She checked. "But father did wear a cape often. So now it's tradition." And they //love// their traditions.

It is difficult, against this backdrop of summer blue and white, to miss a tall woman with flaming hair attired all in pink. Particularly when the cut and fashion of that gown are martial, complete with dragonscale plated spine-guard, and matching dawnstone-embedded choker, both selected as a nod to the hosting House's traditions and sigil. But it is the title that will no doubt turn heads. Valardin's being sticklers for such things, and 'Lady' not /actually/ being her title, Dawn steps into the hall to a cry of, "Dawn Baseborn, Voice of Grayson!". The warm curl of her smile doesn't change, she bats not a lash-- accustomed to such announcements, no doubt.


Joscelin Arterius will never get used to such events, as grand as they are, even if her reputation has made her well worth the dubious honor of an invitation. However, dresses as she is, she does look like she fits in; her multi-colored gown leaves her arms bare as well as her back to the middle of her spine, showing off the elegant, beautiful scars cut into her back. Her curls are pinned up into an artful mess, the gold, dawnstone earrings flickering at her ears when she moves or turns her head, peering about at who's attending the ball this evening.

It is difficult, against this backdrop of summer blue and white, to miss a tall woman with flaming hair attired all in pink. Particularly when the cut and fashion of that gown are martial, complete with dragonscale plated spine-guard, and matching dawnstone-embedded choker, both selected as a nod to the hosting House's traditions and sigil. But when heralds are working hard, it is the hue and cry that pulls attention, and Dawn steps into the hall to a cry of, "Lady Dawn, Voice of Grayson!". The warm curl of her smile doesn't change, she bats not a lash-- accustomed to such announcements, no doubt, from her many visits to Valardin.

Marian enters the room behind Edain and Alis, clad for once not in armor, but a fairly formal looking dress. The dress does seem to be made in such a fashion that it is reminiscent of her usual armor though, the colors and designs stitched to mimic the look. Her expression is pleasant enough, though her gaze is watchful.

Edain sighs with resignation as he fusses with the cape so it hangs properly on his shoulders, "Well I suppose I should honor tradition it's just..." he frowns, "I just keep feeling like I am going to get this caught on something. Shall we go help Princess Isabeau greet people while before we go and find snacks?" he says to his sister with a smile.

The person he is there to greet, is of course, Lady Dawn, "Lady Dawn Grayson, Voice of house Grayson, and Steward of Bastion, We are very honored that you came to join us today."

Valkieri with his Gemecittan partner on his arm is not an uncommon sight at formal events; they to tend to look rather attractive together. He's dressed in an impeccably tailored black suit, the jacket double-breasted and the silk shirt underneath a bold splash of scarlet at his throat and chest. His arm is held just so for Sylphie's hand in the manner of one accustomed to escorting. He looks distracted more than anything else as they pause in the entrance for their introduction, his gaze scanning the crowd as the knight declares, "Lady Sylphie Zaffria, Voice of Zaffria, and Lord Valkieri Rubino, Voice of Rubino!" Quieter, Valkieri mutters, "Thank you, I'd forgotten."

Orazio enters the ball with an almost military stride, for all his outfit is more suited for the ball. He is wearing formal robes appropriate for his office of Archlector. A silk cassock in pure white is cut close to his body, a silk sash in gold - set with the interlocking circles of the Pantheon in polished silver - provides some definition to the waist. The sleeves, collar, and lower hem of the cassock are scratchy with gold wire embroidery, the symbols of the gods entwined and stylized into intricate works of art that gleam with life in lamplight. The cassock reaches all the way to the floor, providing only an occasional glimpse of his silk-shod feet. A formal cape completes the outfit, in gold silk that covers his shoulders and flows down his back to the floor. The cape has only one decoration: a large rendition of the Sentinel's inscrutable mask dominates the center of the cape's back, staring with impassive judgement at anyone who cares to look.

He pauses just inside, his stern expression lightening as he takes in the elegant surroundings and brightly dressed revelers.


While Beaumont is a Valardin in most of the ways that count, when he shows up wearing his ornate blue and white regalia, it of course has plenty of gold trim to show off his own unique flavor. While on his back, as is typical, he wears a long red cape, his sword absent for once.

He offered to escort Princess Natalia Grayson, as they were previously going to meet on a social occasion anyway. And who better to introduce new fashions to the Valardins?

Alis is just proud of herself for finding a way to get her brother to wear the cape. "You'll be fine. Just stay away from the giant candelabra." And the flames. It could end so poorly. "Of course, Prince Edain." she agrees crisply, slipping her arm through his and turning to greet Dawn. "Lady Dawn Grayson. I must offer my sincere apologies for not being able to visit with you sooner. But I am so pleased to see you again, now. Thank you for coming." is said formally.

Only then does she lift a hand to greet Isabeau and then Marian quietly; her gaze flicking over each guest as they arrive and are announced before settling back on the Voice of House Grayson.

Sylphie indeed pairs well with Valkieri this evening, his scarlet echoed in the blood-red tones of her own gown of silk, backless to the base of her spine despite the rather modest sleeves and curve of the neckline. Her silvered gaze lifts to his as he scans, something infinitely amused there, perhaps, at his distraction before she does a quick sweep of her own. "But, if you ever /did/ forget--," she offers lowly to Valkieri as they move further into the room.

Under Valardin's own roof, it is Dawn who sinks into a curtsy for her hosts. She dips gracefully before Edain and Alis, looking up at the pair with a deeper smile as she rises. "Your Grace, your highness, it's an honour to have been invited. I would not miss the opportunity to enjoy an evening with the Dragons. 'Elegance' was a word coined in the Oathlands," she answers. Pale eyes sweep the chamber before she adds (with a hint of good humour), "And once again, you and yours have proven why. No... no apologies, please, your highness. I won't hear of it. I only regret my schedule makes such visits difficult. Prince Edain can tell you, I'm sure, how difficult it is to drag me away from my desk."


     When Joscelin stops lingering around the entrance and actually deigns to enter, she near jumps out of her skin when she's announced: "Mistress Joscelin Arterius, Crownsworn and Esteemed Member of the Crafter's Guild." She blinks at the man who's just shouted her presence to the entire event, and blushes darkly under her brown skin and gold freckles, the plump jeweler darting in on quick feet to ... hide. No! To talk to someone that might know her. And maybe rub at her ringing ear because damn.

Natalia has her fingertips just certain on Baeumont's wrist in escort. She is not dressed in the blues and whites. Her dress is more dark in ebony with layers of silk and lace to dance around her. The griffon hairpins holding the golden curls upwards as she looks over towards her escort and the crowd. Her lips curved upwards as she offers a light comment to the escort of the evening as she leads them to their hosts. Surely, though, it looks as if he is leading her.

Princess Isabeau had been mingling and greeting the earliest of arrivals when she heard of the arrival of her cousins long before she saw them. Approaching her cousins and Lady Dawn, Isabeau half-curtseyed as her eye went to her cousins cape.

"Prince Edain, you look the very image of your father on this night." Her smile brightened as she nodded her head to Alis, "I've no doubt you had something to do with that Princess Alis."

It is then her attention turns to Lady Dawn, "Thank you for gracing us with your presence tonight Lady Dawn. You cut quite the striking figure among the crowds, I've no doubt your dance card will be quite full if you allowed it."

The Valardin Knight who has the dubious honor of announcing guests continues in his duties with the utmost of determination, insisting upon properly making sure that every single guest is announced for the sake of tradition and honoring the noble House he serves.

Dafne trails in after Valkieri and Sylphie like an afterthought, clad in black silk and silvered lace (which was probably not Sylphie-approved.), and announced with a simple, "Lady Dafne, of the House Zaffria." She glances about her at the swirl of people, wide-eyed, and murmurs toward Valkieri and Sylphie, "I always find it a little reassuring to know my name hasn't mysteriously changed overnight."

"I suppose I could just show up at a Valardin event, then," Valkieri notes with low humor. The scan of his gaze pauses on Dawn, noting the small crowd she's already gathered near her, before he aims his steps towards the Cavalier Table (and alcohol). (Sylphie, naturally, may choose to aim her own steps elsewhere.) He does snort quietly at Dafne's joke as he approaches the wine.

Valkieri has joined the Cavalier Table.


Beaumont raises his free hand to wave at Isabeau, casually escorting Natalia over to her. He does lean in to whisper to Natalia, before calling out, "My little sister! And Prince Edain. Princess Alis. This is quite the ball. I'd have brought my sword, but I'm not in the habit of intimidating our guests."

To be late is to be rude, which Cara would certainly never set out to do -- but nevertheless, she arrives after the start of the party. The stately way in which she slides in, graceful and each step careful, /may/ cover up the fact that her cheeks are a little pink and her breath quickened. Ladies, it seems, do occasionally hurry. She is dressed in white, very simply, with her hair braided and gathered in a glossy blue-black crown and a simple silver necklace framed by the square neckline of her dress. And as she enters, she pauses, momentarily disconcerted as the Valardin knight announces her: "Lady Cara Ashford." She waits a moment until the man is finished before murmuring to him, "Oh -- thank you. I wasn't quite sure who I was this evening, but you have cleared that up marvelously."

On some people, red can be a warm color, but not when worn by Eleyna Velenosa. The blood red silk of her gold-embroidered dress somehow makes the fair princess look even colder, as if her skin is carved from marble, her blue eyes chips of ice. In the doorway, Eleyna barely pauses to allow herself to be announced. "Princess Eleyna of House Velenosa!"

Niccolo steps into the hall, flanked by two of his guards. He pauses, and with a wave those guards go off to do as guards do during the functions. The duke is dressed in Velenosa colors as usual, and as he continues his walk, his hands come to clasp behind his back. Dark brown eyes studying his surroundings and look for familiar faces. "Duke Niccolo Velenosa," comes the announcement of his arrival, and the duke lifts a brow in the announcer's direction. There his gaze linger, intense, but the Velenosa allows a hint of a smile before he turns to the others and continues on his way further into the hall.

Miriemi enters a few steps behind Niccolo, in far less grandiose a fashion. The doorman takes a look at her face and decides it's best not to say anything. Wandering sideways, she finds a quiet corner to lean against.

Dawn adjusts her stance to include Isabeau in the conversation, her smile flashing out at the princess. "Your highness, thank you for inviting me. We shall see about that dance card, I've no great reputation as a dancer and that fact might have gotten around. This is beautiful," she says with a gesture to indicate the hall at large. "And I'm quite looking forward to it." But there is a crowd gathering behind her and a backwards glance shows it. "Ah, I ought to step aside to let you see to your other guests. Again, thank you, Valardin." The Lady performs another curtsy-- it is possible her etiquette teacher was from this House-- before she sidesteps to clear the way for others to gladhand their hosts.

Miriemi has joined the Quiet Alcove.


Of course they were announced, "Prince Beaumont, of House Valardin escorting Princess Natalia, of House Grayson!" That happens as the two descend and move to greet where the nobles stand. Natalia offers a slight lowering of her being to the assembled Valardins. There is a quick smile towards Dawn and if she doesn't rebuke it, those damnable air kisses of Natalia. To those of Valardin, she offers simply, "It is a wonderful event already and I know a good event. I believe you have set a standard that even I cannot touch with." She looks towards Dawn a bit and then towards the hosts (and hostesses).

Edain smiles to Beaumont as he approaches and bows, "That is quite alright, Prince Beaumont, I am quite certain I'd have snagged and torn my cape on it." He smiles then and bows to Natalian, "Prince Natalia, I am very glad you could make it, and I am glad to see you found yourself a dashing escort. I have it on good authority that my cousin is an excellent dancer, you should make certain he shows you before the night is out." And that said he smiles to Isabeau and says, "Princess Isabeau thank you very much for organizing all of this. I cannot imagine the amount of logistics to goes into planning such a thing. I think I am going to mingle this way." he waves his hand in a random direction, 'plotting his course. "And I will great people on my way." He looks then to Marian and and bows to her, "You are looking lovely tonight Princess Marian, I am glad you joined us."


Joscelin gravitates towards Dawn and that familiar choker, touching the woman's elbow with a soft, 'my Lady Dawn', but only when the woman pauses in her greetings and conversation. She would smile at her patroness. "You look stunning."

Miriemi is slumped here, glaring across the hall.

Sylphie's gaze traces Valkieri's for a moment, her smile lingering as she leans in to murmur something to Valkieri. To Dafne, she quirks an eyebrow, and only offers, "I doubt you'd forget anything, cousin. Be good." And her steps do take her away from her escort just like that, the heavy fall of blood red silk sweeping about her as she moves across the floor of the ballroom back in the direction she just came towards Niccolo.

"Much like us, then. When there is work to be done, that's a priority. Nonetheless... there are several people I've been meaning to take tea with lately. Perhaps we should make an event of it, so that we all force ourselves to make time for something other then paperwork or martial training." Even though Alis //lives// to break the Valardin's training dummies.

"Of course I did, Princess Isabeau. I'm glad you approve. He looks quite dashing with the cape, does he not?" Did that make Edain's face red? Did it? "Prince Beaumont, Princess Natalia. How nice to see you!" And to Marian... "How many?" is her greeting, with a slightly raised eyebrow. "I believe Duke Niccolo just arrived. We must be sure to greet him as well."

Orazio approaches Isabeau when a space opens up, offering a smile. "Your Highness, thank you for the invitation. The hospitality of House Valardin exceeds even the highest expectations." Greeting given, he offers a bow, before stepping back to allow someone else to have the space.

Marian prowls the edges of the room, watching as others enter and greet each other. She makes no move to speak to anyone just yet, taking in everything that is going on in the crowded room.

Valkieri's mouth twitches in a frown at whatever Sylphie murmurs to him, but soon he has a glass of wine in hand to steel himself with. His attention lifts when he hears his sister announced, and his weight rolls forward onto the balls of his feet as he tries to catch Cara's gaze from where he is near the Cavalier Table. Help.

Natalia gives a bright smile towards the hosts and offers towards Edain. "Do not think this makes you safe." She teases lightly before she looks towards Beaumont and then nods to a direction out of the way, so that others might greet the hosts and be greeted by them. She drops a whisper to Beaumont's ear though. Her blue eyes sweeping the area.

Dawn has no rebukes to offer to Natalia and is quite accustomed to offering her cheek for air-kisses. A murmured compliment chases the young woman. Then, in all of her shimmering pink glory, she turns to find Joscelin-- and sets dignity aside in order to laugh. "I've -very- talented crafters to thank for that," she tells the jewelery. She lifts her hand to touch careful fingertips to the scales of neodynium around her throat. Her eyes cut off to the side, surveying those nearby, before returning to Joscelin with a warm smile. "And a very strict courtier making certain I turn out well. How are you, Mistress Joscelin? Are you enjoying the ball?"


     Joscelin gives Lady Dawn a bright smile. "I am, though I've only just arrived. I am a bit overwhelmed by all these events, I never received invitations before this year, though I've helped deck out many attendees with gems and jewels." She tilts her head, critically eyeing the choker on her patron's. "I had concerns the colors would clash or make you look pale. I'm pleased to see it does anything but. Your courtier, also, did a fine, fine job."

Eleyna steps further inside, her eyes sweeping over the crowd with small signs of interest here and there. She notes the entrance of Niccolo and offers her uncle a smile and inclined head in greeting before directing her attention to others she recognizes. Lord Rubino is favored with a brief, expressionless glance before again, she moves on, getting a feel for those present before 'making the rounds', so to speak.

The duke catches sight of Sylphie approaching, and dips his head in her direction, an invitation for her to approach. The mention of his name has Niccolo looking around for the source. In doing so, his gaze finds Dawn and Natalia, and then Edain and Alis. There are gestures of acknowledgment given in their direction. He makes sure to move away from the entrance, to allow others freedom to walk into the hall. He starts moving in the direction of the refreshments.

Dawn's curtsey is returned by Isabeau as she watches the other woman and then her cousin depart in different directions. Laughing softly at Alis' words she replied with a grin, "He does. He should wear the cape far more often."

Any thoughts or words are cut off by the arrival of Beaumont and Natalia, her smile becoming the very picture of joy at the sight of her brother, "Dearest and Beloved Brother." If not for the public setting she would have hugged him.

A curtsey is offered to Princess Natalia who she had recently seen at the Fashion Committee meeting, "Princess Natalia. I'm so pleased that you could join us on this lovely summer evening. I hope that you will be willing to let me steal my brother for a dance tonight. You couldn't have chosen a better escort."

Almost scandalously (by Valardin standards!) Isabeau leaned in to whisper something to Beaumont.

Miriemi is indeed the ONLY guest so far to escape the attentiveness of the Valardin Knight announcing Guests, even Knights had a limit to their courage. To Cara, the Knight nods seriously, "You're quite welcome Lady Ashford, those things can happen at times."


"I've heard rumors of Princess Natalia's fashion, so I thought I'd bring her here to teach us Valardins a few things." Beaumont laughs quite heartily, obviously not afraid to have such a casual manner, even around nobility. Then when Isabeau whispers, he can't help but laugh again. That's when he ushers Natalia away from the hosts, looking around, on the prowl for refreshments now. He leans toward Natalia a few times, showing that he, too, is also quite adept at lowing his powerful voice to have a quiet discussion.

Dawn smooths her hand over the short sweep of her skirt. "It's a difficult colour to wear and likely not something I'd armour myself in every day, but... he did a fine job, and I'm fortunate to have a complexion that suits the shade. If I'm fortunate, the Grand Duchess will arrive to see if I pass muster in her gift, but I'm glad I have your approval. Is it satisfying to see your work on the best and brightest in the land?" This is a question whose focus is on the other people in the great hall, as Dawn glances away again to study those circulating nearby-- focused most, perhaps, on those glistening with jewels and precious metals.

Cara's eyebrow leaps up in amusement at the knight's reply before she scans the room -- an advantage of being tall is that it is rather easy to look about in a crowd -- and when she spots Valkieri and his 'help me' gaze, she ducks her head for a moment before making her way over toward him. It takes a minute or so, given the size of the room and the activity of the guests, but eventually she arrives near the Cavalier table to greet her brother, "You seem like a man who could use company."

Cara has joined the Cavalier Table.

Consider Alis' interest piqued. "Fashion? I daresay I have only enough fashion sense to know my brother should wear that cape. But, I have a grand total of two dresses for fancy dinners or grand balls. So any advice you'd like to offer, I am a willing ear. I'm much better with armor." she admits, with a slight smile. She then returns Niccolo's silent greeting with an equally respectful inclination of her head.


     Joscelin looks around, a small, proud smile on her lips. "It's... yes. It's very satisfying. My art is meant to be worn, as much as clothing is, I suppose. It has no life until it's worn, and it pleases me to see so much of it come to life on those they're intended for." She chuckles. "I would be surprised of Esera didn't tsk with envy and commission me for another similar for her throat as well. Her taste is only challenged by yours." There's no malice in her words, she means it amicably.

Miriemi keeps her left eye closed, casting the other around the room critically. It roves over the elaborate fashions, the beautiful jewellery, the extravagant decoration, and doesn't stop once. It only stops when it reaches the refreshments and realises the extent of the drinks on offer. Pushing herself to her feet, she makes a beeline for the serpentine chest. The crowd peels out of her path like the waves avoid the prow of a ship.

Miriemi has left the Quiet Alcove.

"My lord duke, it doesn't seem right that you should be without an escort this evening," is how Sylphie greets Niccolo, dipping into a soft curtsey before she falls in beside him in his drift towards the refreshment table. "If I had known-- Well, my lady cousin was without someone herself." She smiles brightly at the duke, an easy thing on her lips even as silver-grey eyes study him for a moment.

Valkieri looks just about to greet his sister when his gaze catches on Eleyna across the room. His lips visibly thin and his jaw tightens as he watches her a few moments before tearing his gaze away. It is a rather distinctly less expressionless glance than she favored him with. Now when he mutters quietly to his sister, it looks considerably less welcoming.

Orazio moves through the crowds like a gaudy, white and gold crow, pausing here and there to survey the crowd. His expression is a touch too sober to be truly welcoming, but he does start to make his way towards Dawn and Joscelin and the small group gathered there.


Princess Natalia lowers her lashes in a coy sort of fashion as Beaumont talks about her. "I would adore to talk fashion with any of the people around here. Although, I am sure you can teach me something as well." Then they are moving off. She does incline her head towards Niccolo though before she tips her head to receive Beaumont's words. There is a full laugh at that as she hears his words and gives him a smile. "I will keep that in mind. Just be careful..." Her voice then drops lower to his ear. A teasing gleam found in her blue depths.


Edain bows his head in greeting to Niccolo and says, "Duke Niccolo Velenosa, I am glad to see you. I hope you are blessed this day. Please make yourself at home and enjoy our hospitality." And then he approaches the Cavalier table where Lord Valkieri and Lady Cara have taken residence. "Lord Valkieri, Lady Cara, I am glad you both could make it here this evening."

Miriemi mumbles quietly to herself as she picks through the assembled bottles, oblivious to the social warfare flying about her head. Glass tinkles as she moves it roughly about, checking labels then putting them aside with a snort. Eventually, she settles on a small bottle of the plainest mead she can find.

"I suspect her taste -far- outstrips mine," Dawn remarks, her voice touched by laughter again. "You might remember, I require help when it comes to choosing anything fine. I haven't a creative bone in my own body. But thank you for your kindness, Mistress Joscelin. I quite agree, a piece is given life by those who wear it... ah. Do you know Archlector Orazio?" The question comes as she spies the priest's approach. She lifts one beringed hand to signal the man with a greeting, one punctuated by her smile. "He serves as the Sentinel's Voice."

For once, if would seem, Princess Sophie Valardin is not wearing the distinctive robe of pristine white that denotes her calling as a Mercy of Lagoma. (Anyone looking to collect on their bet is encouraged to do so discretely if unable to wait until the end of ball.) Instead, she is quite the vision in flowing chiffon of a dreamy blue and silk of a pearlescent white. In homage to her House's proud military tradition, there is metal filigree decorating the neck and under-bust of the gown, completed with matching filigree shoulder caps that glitter with gems and the delicate draping of fine chains over the sides of the arms and back. Even her usual braid has been forgone for an elegant upsweep of gathered ringlets, clasped by jeweled clips shaped like dragons.
    Much like her sister, Isabeau, she has been here early on. Finishing up a jovial conversation with a few of the guests, her attention drifts across the expanse of the Vow, which is far more populated than it was the last time she checked. Many faces, some known and some unknown, and one of those classified as the latter draws her attention. And so it is she saunters her way toward Miriemi.

"It's not the first function I attend on my own, my lady," Niccolo assures Sylphie. "Although often I find myself coming to these functions with Her Grace," he says, referring to his daughter. He reaches for Sylphie's hand and holds it up, almost to his lips in a greeting. "I'm quite glad to see you, however, it's been too long," he says and glances at the refreshments. "Care for a drink?" His attention goes to Edain when the High Lord addresses him. "Your Grace," he greets the Valardin prince respectfully. "Thank you, Your Grace. For the invitation by your family and the hispitality both. I hope the gods are finding you well."

Cara looks up from murmuring something to Valkieri and greets Edain with a nod, a ghost of a smile accompanying the gesture, "Prince Edain -- I am thankful to have been invited to such a splendid affair. It is not often that I have had the opportunity to share in the fabled hospitality of House Valardin. I must say, my expectations have been tremendously exceeded."


"You should certainly talk fashion with my sisters, when they aren't busy hosting an elaborate ball. I myself don't mind a little fashion here and there, I do enjoy my gold trim." Beaumont grabs a dark red wine, handing it over to Natalia, and then grabs one for himself. He takes a large sip, leaning over again.


Joscelin turns to see who Lady Dawn is gesturing to, her eyes warming with recognition. "I do know him," she says, bowing her head in greeting. "Archlector Saik, it's good to see you again." As an aside, she leans towards Dawn and says, "He is prone to praising me for my spiritual clarity and then being scandalized at my encouragement of his niece's dastardly ways." Her eyes sparkle impishly. "Kima Saik is as prone to corrupting me as anyone else. It's that damn smile of hers and the way she insists everything will turn out just fine."

When Cara murmurs back to him, Valkieri just tips his chin and directs his gaze at a certain noble lady across the room. Whatever they're quietly discussing must wait for a moment, however, as he offers a polite smile to Edain as he approaches. "Your grace. Thank you, of course, for your gracious invitation. I can tell you that your wine is excellent." Because he's sampled that, at least.

Dafne slips into the Cavalier Table with the Rubinos, possibly seeing a safe port in a storm. "It seems very crowded here," says the little Zaffria, and she seems about to say more, before she notices Edain's presence. She blinks at him, and dips her head hurriedly, her dark curls bouncing against her neck. "Your grace."

Dafne has joined the Cavalier Table.

"Lady Dawn, a pleasure as always. And I have had the pleasure of meeting Mistress Joscelin, although I fear I owe her an apology." Orazio turns to the crafter with a rueful smile that softens the severity of his features. "Not for the encouragement of my niece - although I fear she needs none. But rather, for not following through on an order. Yet." He offers a bow. "Perhaps I can make it up to you, sometime soon?" As he straightens, he adds, "I hope I am not interrupting?"

Miriemi grumbles as she puts aside the bottle of mead after giving it a good sniff. Her digging through the chest doesn't seem to be yielding much better results, though. She glances up and realises that people are beginning to stare at her. "What?", she demands, before turning back. But not before she notices someone heading directly for her. She casts a critical eye at the young woman.

Alis quietly makes her way around the room, pausing here and there to greet guests she hasn't spoken to yet. Eventually, she will make her way towards the buffet tables. But a keen eye is kept on the crowd during every step of her perusal of the familiar floor. If something looks out of place, that's where she'll be heading. Of course.

"A pleasure, Archlector," Dawn echoes, inclining her head to Orazio as he arrives. Her smile tucks deeper with notes of amusement as she glances between the two, Orazio and Joscelin. "I was about to say, Lady Kima hardly needs encouragement. But I find her delightful conversation, myself. She's not once attempted to sway me towards anything dastardly. It's just as well, I likely have no talent for that either."

"If I had known, I would have remedied it immediately," answers Sylphie warmly, lightly with only a hint of teasing to her words. "Though, certainly not with any company that could rival that of your lovely daughter's. So perhaps it is best that I did not try." Her smile only grows softer for the greeting, and she tips her chin in a nod to the offer. "Wine, if you will." As Edain approaches, she doesn't quite curtsey with her hand caught, but she does dip quickly and murmur some words of greeting that are lost within Niccolo's greeting.

Natalia gets an effervescent white gold wine with floral-confected tropical aromas from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Niccolo gets a black garnet wine with a savory and spicy aroma from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Natalia gets a vibrant pink rose wine with a citrus scent from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Valkieri gets a black garnet wine with a savory and spicy aroma from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Niccolo gets a bronze-hued brandy with smoky notes of roasted nuts and tobacco from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Sylphie gets a bronze-hued brandy with smoky notes of roasted nuts and tobacco from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Miriemi gets a minutely hazy gold mead with a herbal tea-like scent from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Orazio gets a bronze-hued brandy with smoky notes of roasted nuts and tobacco from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Dawn gets a sweet honey gold wine with buttery overtones from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Dawn gets a black garnet wine with a savory and spicy aroma from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Edain dips his head to Lady Dafne, and greets her with a pleasant, "Lady Dafne, it is wonderful to see you again." And then to Sylphie, "And do you as well Lady Sylphie." Edain says with a greeting. But he continues to makes the rounds, trying to greet everyone, "Archlector." He says with a bow as he greets Orazio. He does however retreat to find a spot at the honor table, as everyone starts to mingle and enjoy themselves. A quick passing smile for Isabeau and all her hard work.

Edain has joined the Honor Table.

If Eleyna even notices Valkieri's reaction to her, there is no change in the expression on her face to indicate as such. Perhaps another woman would do the wise thing and walk away, leaving them to their scowls and whispers, but, instead, Eleyna moves to approach the lord and his sister. "Lord Rubino. Lady Ashford. How lovely to see you."


     Joscelin's laugh is bright, and carrying, her delight plain to see. "Forgiven, Archlector, come by as soon as you like, or send a missive if you want to be sure you have the time set out for you." She grins at Lady Dawn. "You underestimate yourself, my lady, I'm sure you can do anything once you set your mind to it, especially at trouble!" She moves to accept a drink from a server, turning her scarred, exposed back for a moment, her dress cut low to the middle of her spine.
     "Didn't you ever get into mischief as a child, my lady? I can't believe you were always so .... well-behaved," she teases playfully.


The Grayson princess laughs a bit more towards Beaumont's words, but their conversation has grown more quiet between them. She takes the red wine offered to her and takes a slight sip. For a brief moment, the color stains her lips before fading. "I am sure that gold trim is becoming. I prefer expensive and gifts. I adore gifts." She offers him a look from beneath the fall of lashes. Her voice reaching his ears alone. Then she offers, "We should greet people or I will be forced to join the High Prince and he will be most put out by that." She looks towards the Honor table and back to Beaumont.


"You may count on it, Mistress Joscelin," Orazio offers. At her teasing of Dawn, though, an intrigued expression settles on his features, and he gives Dawn a look of amusement and curiosity. "I must confess that I agree with her, and struggle with the idea that such a clever mind has never turned itself to mischief."

The young woman who is on the receiving end of Miriemi's critical eye is no wilting flower. Mercies of Lagoma brave the battlefields, even during the height of combat, and they've seen the horrific ravages of war upon countless bodies. There is no mistaking the sight of a veteran soldier, and one who has suffered much, and Sophie's face floods with a mingling compassion and admiration, as befits a healer who truly cares about the well-being of others and who rejoices in the strength and resiliency of the human spirit. "Good evening," she amiably intones. "I am Princess Sophie. Welcome."

"Aunt Eleyna -- how delightful to see you again," Cara answers, tilting her head to look at the woman. Her voice is calm and pleasant, as suits the terrain. "What a surprise to see you in Arx -- I had not heard you had made the journey north to our fair capital. I hope the city is treating you well?"

Dawn, now the subject of two sets of curious eyes, opts out of dignity and chooses to wrinkle the bridge of her nose at the pair. It's an expression as teasing as Joscelin's words had been. "Alaric was always the more mischievious, Father used to say... ah." The hitch in that remark is covered by the Lady smiling and glancing aside to accept a glass from a passing server. With wine in hand, she takes on a lighter tone again. "He used to say that he was trouble enough to fill an entire nursery. But he'd just bat those eyes of his and the nurses would all forgive him. My brother is possessed of formidable charm and always has been," she claims before taking a sip of wine.


"I'll introduce you to my other young, adorable sister." Beaumont decides, starting to head for Sophie while he sips his wine and continues having quiet discussion. "I will make sure that you have some fine gifts before you part on your way home. And even finer once I have more time to prepare." he assures, sounding quite confident and sincere.


     Joscelin tilts her head at Lady Dawn, her eyes briefly sympathetic. And then, "You dodged the question, my lady." Her eyes sparkl and she looks to the Archlector. "Honestly, she's trying to pull one over on us now."

"There is very kind of you, my dear," Niccolo offers back to Sylphie, inclining his head. "I think you would have done a great job yourself," he muses, studying the younger woman. "So he intention is appreciated." Noticing a serving coming their way with a tray of drinks, he snags a glass of wine from it for Sylphie and another for himself. "So who did you come with?" He wonders, with a tinge of curiosity, keeping most of his attention of Sylphie but letting his gaze wonder to scan familiar faces nearby.

Alis has joined the Honor Table.

Valkieri actually chokes on his wine when Cara calls Eleyna 'Aunt.' He actually has to cough once or twice to clear his throat. He also, perhaps notably, fails to greet Eleyna himself. To Dafne, he does belatedly note, "No more crowded than the Velenosa gala."

"It does appear to be a deflection, doesn't it." Orazio smiles at Joscelin, then at Dawn. His eyebrows arch. "Not that we would ever dream of pressing a lady. But without confession, one can only speculate as to the nature of the sin. And its severity. Correct?" He grins, suddenly, sharp and teasing enough that it even warms his eyes for a moment.

Miriemi doesn't answer Sophie's greeting immediately. Instead she cracks the top of the mead open with her teeth, spitting the lid out into her other calloused hand before taking a quick swig straight from the bottle. Only when she's wiped her mouth with the back of her ragged sleeve does she reply. "Yer highness." Sophie's expression is met with what could charitably be called a sour look. "Come to show y' lady friends how much you care about the common man, have you?" She snorts. "Or just t' stare at my face?" She takes another swig before wincing slightly. "Don't worry, Yer Highness Sophie, I'll be out of y' pretty hall soon enough. Just came to get some of t' free booze. An' to see what's floated to the top recently."


"Darling, you know all the right things to say. Promises of gifts. I would swoon if I were not upon your arm." Natalia offers towards Beaumont as she looks to find Sophie. "Let us meet your sister, though, I believe I have already met her or seen her." THere is a light laugh as she takes another sip of her drink. She does glance around to see who is where and such manner of conversation.


Dawn's eyebrows lift. "Did I? Oh dear. I hadn't even noticed," is her claim, so very earnest and wider of eye. But she chases that with a chuckle and dips her head to the two, before drinking again. After that, she's able to tell them, "I'm afraid my foremost sin while I was growing up was being far too serious. I can't tell you how many times I was told to smile when I thought I already was smiling. No... there are no sordid tales of mischief in my past. I get into far, far more trouble now, with a single stroke of my quill," she remarks, this time with a grin. "When the dancing begins, Archlector, will you do Mistress Joscelin the honour of a turn about the dancefloor? I think I caught her looking that way with longing in her eyes not long ago." This is what is properly called 'revenge'.

Even Eleyna herself seems a bit surprised at being addressed as 'Aunt', shown in a faint flickering in those pale blue eyes. "I've only just recently arrived, so I have yet to decide how this city treats me," she responds to Cara. Her gaze slides to Valkieri, noting his deliberate snub, but seeming unperturbed by it. Eleyna looks to Cara and says in her soft, husky voice, so at odds with the delicacy of her appearance. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss."

"The Lord Rubino escorted me. I believe there is a contract somewhere written in stone that states that he has to deign himself to or else demons will take him," answers Sylphie, a laugh wrapped around the words like honey as she accepts the wine before lifting it to her lips for a slow sip. "Though, perhaps, I should not make so light of it. I am glad I did not have to come alone. I do not think I have nearly your cool reserve, my lord duke, to bear it so well." She smiles at him while offering the easy compliment, but her gaze shifts to trace his around the room as well, sweeping for less familiar faces.


"Do you enjoy art? I actually know an artist, who is at this very ball." Beaumont wonders, while continuing to prowl around on the search for his sister. Though he pauses to hand his glass of wine off, in order to replace it with some random desert being offered around.


     Joscelin pales as her beloved, sweet, kind, wonderful patroness -sabotages- her. Her lips work silently, like the jeweler is torn between laughing and spluttering. In the end though, she gives the Archlector her prettiest, brightest smile; it's clear that should he accept the offer, she would as well. Because stubborn.

"We were wearing masks there," says Dafne to Valkieri, as if that makes a difference. "And, well. Perhaps someone will charge in and challenge someone to duel." She glances to Cara, and to Eleyna, giving her a little nod of greeting. It's the sort of polite nod one makes when they aren't sure if they know someone or not.

"It can be cruel, but there is sometimes surprising kindness here," Cara replies to Eleyna, lowering her gaze for a moment in response to the lady's offer of condolence. "And thank you. I am grateful for the years of happiness we had, but the loss of the future I hoped we would share is no small thing. Those who have not lost have difficulty understanding it." An acknowledgment, widow to widow, offered quietly -- almost below the level of regular conversation. She slants a short look at her brother, too, as if indicating he should say something, and then pivots to Dafne, the small Zaffrian at the table with them, "Have you met Lady Dafne Zaffria, Princess Eleyna? She too is newly arrived in the city and I think is quite keen to explore it, should you wish someone to venture out with."

Valkieri's gaze snaps to Eleyna rather immediately upon hearing her words. "Really," he says in a flat, bland sort of voice that sounds vaguely skeptical of her condolences. That's saying something, right?

Orazio laughs. "Oh, dear. Lady Dawn, that is something of a tragedy, is it not? Everyone should have a little mischief in their past." At the suggestion, though, he turns to Joscelin, and offers a bow...and his hand. "I would be delighted to dance, should the Mistress agree. Shall we?" Is there just an edge of challenge there? Perhaps. Either way, he looks genuinely enthusiastic about the prospect.

"Well, I do intend to mingle, but since I have you here," Niccolo reaches to take Sylphie's hand in his. "Would you join me for the first dance? Before I run off to greet, and speak with others? I'd be honored if you do," he says to the noblewoman, his eyes meeting hers and a touch of a smile on his lips. Rather than wait for her answer, he tugs on Sylphie's hand, to gently lead her to the dance floor.

Dawn's smile is guileless and pure as she gazes at Joscelin. "Such a gentleman, isn't he?" she says of Orazio. Then, laughing again, she shakes her head at Orazio. "Some might think it so, Archlector, but the circumstances of my life are exciting enough, I think. I must balance them. But, don't let me keep you." Go! Dance! Make merry! She gestures with her glass of wine to send them off, grin nearly as bright as the ensemble she's chosen for tonight.

Orazio has joined the Main Floor.

Joscelin has joined the Main Floor.

It is usually Sophie who seeks out her brother, not the other way around, but odds are that Beaumont isn't looking to hop on his youngest sister's shoulders for a dragonback ride. Regardless, she doesn't seem to notice him or his companion, Natalia. The Mercy's attention is solely on Miriemi, whose sourness does not diminish the Princess' geniality.
    "No," is her simple reply, seemingly unruffled by any prickliness. "I have no need." Then, with the keen eye of a chirurgeon, she does assess the face in question, showing no semblance of disgust. Faintly, she frowns, because said face is quite ruined, and that is always an unfortunate thing. "For what it is worth, I have seen worse." There's no judgment in her tone; merely a statement of fact. Sophie smiles, then, warmly, and notes, "You need not leave, unless that is your desire. I meant it when I said welcome."

Eleyna's eyes watch Cara for a moment as she murmurs, an unusual undercurrent of feeling to her words as she murmurs, "It's all the years left un-lived that are the hardest to bear. You should have had dozens of them." She glances at Valkieri, regarding him in silence but still not rising to the inherent challenge of his words. Her cool gaze falls on Dafne and she offers the woman a muted smile, polite but little warmth, "I had not met Lady Zaffria. It is a pleasure. The thought of exploring the city on my own is daunting. It would be pleasant to have a companion some time."


     Joscelin's smile turns positively sharp at Dawn, but there's zero malice in it. She takes the Archlector's hand, and follows him to the dance floor. "I am apologizing now, Messere Orazio, for any injury you sustain during this," she laments to him quietly. She assumes the proper posture and position, looking up at the tall man. Her cheeks are warm; she's a bit terrified. She mutters something to herself but he could probably hear it as well.

Sylphie murmurs her assent to Niccolo even as he tugs her to the floor, readily lead with a brighter smile on her own lips. As soon as they are there, she draws close, of course; her fingers curl at the base of his neck, just brushing silvered hair, while her other hand remains in his.

The Knight in charge of announcing guests seems almost relieved as new arrivals start to die off but he remains vigilant as always in his duties should he be required.

The dancefloor seems to be filled with an assortment of young attractive couples, many of them from the Valardin Ward and possibly even paid to insure they were always dancing for the evening to keep the mood alive.

A particularly slow set of music with seductive overtones begins to play, a bit racy by Valardin standards but no doubt an invitation to any pairs looking to dance.

Isabeau for her part has done her best along with her sister and cousin to mingle with as many of the guests as possible and she finds herself near the Cavalier table where she curtseys towards the assembled group of Cara, Eleyna, Dafne and Valkieri, "If there is anything at all I can do for any of you, please, let me know."


"Truthfully..." Natalia looks at Beaumont when he asks about art and she looks around in a guilty sort of fashion before chuckling. "I adore art. I adore artists. They are amazing to think of things like that, are they not?" She gives a slight shake of her head as she turns to see the people on the dance floor. Her head tipping to study it before placing herself right next to Sophie. SHe'll let Beaumont interrrupt her though. Natalia's voice moves to his ear again.


Joscelin looks pained; of course the music would turn to a lovers' sway. Of course.

Orazio leans in to speak reassuringly to Joscelin, and perhaps shoots the musicians a look before altering the proper hold he began with to something a little more appropriate for the music, although still well within bounds of priority.

Valkieri's gaze catches on something beyond his party, and he takes the opportunity to clearly put the distance between Eleyna and himself that he's so eager for. "Excuse me," he murmurs, only pausing a moment for Isabeau's approach to say, "Thank you, your highness." Then he's making his way through the crowd to eventually find Dawn, who's apparently been left by a few of her companions. "My lady," he says, fingers tightening on his wine glass. "You look -- truly remarkable." His gaze is earnest, even if the compliments do not fall particularly eloquently from his tongue.


"Then I certainly know someone you might be interested in meeting." After briefly leaning over to Natalia, Beaumont suddenly reaches out to playfully grab Sophie's shoulder. "Baby Sister!" he shouts, then looks over at Natalia. "This is Princess Natalia Grayson. I thought you would appreciate meeting such a guest, who can teach you all about the fashionable things outside of the Valardin house!"

Dawn, having inflicted pain upon on Joscelin, blithely collects herself and her wine to drift through the crowds of those not dancing. The course she chooses is a slow one and quickly ends with Valkieri's approach. His presence, and then his compliment, leads to a deeper smile as she sketches a courtly curtsy for the Lycene lord. "It's a bit unusual, isn't it?" This, with a glance down at the whimsical cut of her armor-gown. "Master Rook's work, and Mistress Joscelin did the choker. I feel ready for the world's most colourful skirmish. How are you, my lord?" she wonders, looking up to meet his eyes. "Enjoying yourself?"

Cara glances at Valkieri as he darts off to speak to Dawn and there is a moment where her serene expression shifts to slightly exasperated affection before it smoothes over once more, and she glances to Isabeau to say, "Thank you, Princess Isabeau -- your home is truly lovely. It must have taken a great deal of effort to produce such a marvelous event, and I am enjoying myself very much." She glances back to Eleyna and Dafne and adds, "I think most things are easier with someone to go along with you. Solitude is not the balm the poets claim it to be, in my experience. Good company is a blessing."


     Joscelin doesn't quite grab Orazio for dear life; instead, she shifts her hold on him to be something slightly more intimate though not suggestively so, though her hips might sway more and her shoulders to suggest more passion than she actually feels for the man. This is a ball, after all, and she must scandali- er. do her patroness proud. Yes.

"It is a very large city," says Dafne. "Which seems obvious, I know. But there are a lot of people and places to navigate, and sometimes it is difficult on your own." Her gaze shifts to Valkieri briefly at his abrupt departure, and she gives Cara a small, companionable shrug."

Niccolo has joined the Main Floor.

Sylphie has joined the Main Floor.

"You certainly stand out," Valkieri replies to Dawn, smile twitching briefly. His expression dries a bit for her question. "Never," he says, although there's a certain self-deprecating humor in his words. His words pitch a bit lower as he adds something else.

Valkieri has left the Cavalier Table.

Miriemi gives Sophie a crooked grin, rendered more so by the scar that cleaves through her upper lip on the left side. There's no mirth in it, though. "Not'n anyone alive, I expect." She puts the bottle down into its resting place with a little more force than perhaps strictly necessary. "You're a Mercy, then? Ain't no mercy saved my life back then. Just me, draggin' me own corpse through six miles of hell." She turns her face away. "No, yer Highness, I know me place. I were a soldier, 'n I expect you know soldiers, so y'know we know what's goin' on. I'm knee-deep in nobles here, yer Highness, an' I stick out like a mole'n a whore's lip."

Eleyna watches Valkieri depart, but nothing on her face changes save for a very faint narrowing of her eyes. To Dafne, she murmurs, "I agree, but hopefully all will become quite familiar soon." Politely, Eleyna gives Isabeau a nod and says with a faint smile, "Indeed, your home is most lovely and decorated splendidly tonight. It is a pleasure to be here."

"I learned long ago to embrace the fact that I will stand out," Dawn says, tucking her chin and chuckling as she smooths her hand over her skirt. "I was telling our hosts earlier, few do elegant half so well as Valardin. But you risk making me a liar, my lord," is added with a nod for Valkieri's own ensemble. Then, a deeper amusement sparks in her eyes, before she tilts her head to listen to that quiet remark. "Ahh. That too I'm familiar with. Wine helps, I hear?" Her own glass is lifted.

Once Sylphie has joined him at the dance floor, Niccolo positions both hands on her waist. The duke leads Sylphie through the steps, along with the music. His right hand leaves her waist and slides up to take her hand in his. He studies the young woman at her whispered words and leans in to speak quietly to her in turn. And off those worlds, he takes Sylphie into a spin, deftly keeping the two of them from getting too close to anyone else dancing.

"My brother has never suffered from the particular disposition of constipated emotions," Cara observes mildly to Dafne and Eleyna, "It is rare that one must wonder what he is thinking -- or feeling. It is true, though, that the city is somewhat of a challenge. I've spent a good amount of time here since I came north, and I am perpetually finding myself turned around. Still, that is an adventure in itself, don't you think? One never knows what one might find unexpectedly around a corner."

"I imagine you should not want /any/ Lycene to hear you say that," Valkieri says to Dawn, brow quirking. "Particularly the Archduchess. I believe splendor is supposed to be one of our regional claims." He snorts very quietly at her compliment. "I have a good tailor, but you'll quickly learn that most of my ensembles fall in similar lines." When she raises her glass, he lifts his to clink lightly against it, voice falling lower for a few words. He gives her a meaningful sort of look at the end of it, and then his voice resumes a more conversational level when he wonders, just a touch awkwardly, "Are you dancing this evening, my lady?"

"Splendor and elegance are two different things, though certainly they can go hand in hand," Dawn counters. Another swallow is taken from her glass, before she sets it aside on a passing tray-- anticipating what such a question means, no doubt. "I haven't, as yet," she says with a glance at the floor, and the victims she'd paired together earlier, "but if that's an offer, Lord Valkieri, I will gladly accept." And so saying, she extends her hand with the expectation that Valkieri will position his wrist beneath it.

Valkieri lifts his hand with the immediacy of reflex to take Dawn's where she lifts it, taking a gulp of his own wine and then setting it aside with a passing servant as well. They're convenient like that. He leads her out onto the floor with the other dancers, murmuring something to her in a lower voice as he turns in towards her to set a hand carefully at her waist and turn the other in its light grip of her own.

Valkieri has joined the Main Floor.

Dawn has joined the Main Floor.

Dawn steps easily into the lead offered by her partner, one hand raised to settle upon Valkieri's shoulder while the other tucks into his. What's said draws the quick flash of her grin and a low remark of, "That does make all the difference." Then, she lets the slow sway of the music-- and Valkieri himself-- guide her into the slow glide cued by the music.

It's a delighted laugh that escapes Sophie when Beaumont is upon her. "Big brother!" she joyfully joshes back, playfully elbowing him, decorum be damned. (Their kin should just be grateful that they aren't challenging Alis and Edain to a dragonback race... although the night is still young.) "Your Highness," Sophie greets the Grayson princess in a pleasant tone, amiably smiling, turning enough to do so without being discourteous to the soldier. "Well met. Did you ever receive my reply to your invitation?"
    Miriemi is then addressing her, though, and Sophie's attention is diverted that way, her expression a shade rueful. "Perhaps not, although I hope they are and wanting to be." Nodding about being a Mercy, she replies, "I am, and I regret none of my fellows were around to lend you aid." Because the Mercies of Lagoma don't discriminate. They'll even try to save Shavs. To the rest, she smiles, a little bittersweetly. "I shall not tell you what to do or not do, goodwoman, but I tell you that you are welcome here, and you /are/ welcome, as long as you respect our home and the rest of our guests, which is what we ask of everyone here. And should anyone have issue with those House Valardin extends guest right, then those individuals will soon enough find that House Valardin has issues with them, and /they/ will find some themselves most unwelcome." Something Sophie is most adamant about.


There is soft conversation going with Beaumont as Natalia speaks. She smiles towards Sophie. "I have and we should take tea soon. I have found a fondness for peppermint myself." She gives a slight chuckle as she looks back over towards Beaumont. Her eyes leave his as she sets her empty wine glass to the side. She looks towards Edain and then Dawn before smiling to her escort.

"We should have brought the twins, Lady Dafne -- they are both very good at making sure that anyone who wishes to dance has a partner. Or at least, they respond well to pointed looks when the subject comes up," Cara says to Dafne, idly.


"Sophie! I hope you're enjoying yourself. I was just telling Natalia about an artist I know. Though she appears to be on the dance floor." Beaumont tries to tactfully points to Sylphie. "Though, Natalia, you should certainly consider yourself to be within the ranks of artists. After all, it takes a keen eye and imagination to think of the things that you wear."

"Oh, I could hazard a guess as to the source of your brother's 'constipation of emotion'. He never did like me much. I imagine even less so now." Eleyna's voice is a colorless murmur, perhaps showing just a trace of puzzlement. She gives Dafne and Cara a polite smile. "Perhaps I should fetch a glass of wine before my mere presence wards off any potential dancing partners. We shall have to meet for tea at some point, ladies." A gracious nod and Eleyna is drifting off toward the refreshments, intent on a glass of wine.

Cara reassures Eleyna, "He likes hardly anyone, Your Highness -- pray do not take it too closely to heart."

Dafne rests her chin on a cupped hand. "They are good for that," she agrees with Cara. "For serving as general purpose gentleman. Did you know, I have not yet had a proper dance in this city? I mean, with someone other than we Gemecittans. Not even a bare whisper of proper Lycene debauchery." Her voice is a little dry. She gives her feet an idle kick under the table and looks to Eleyna." I'm sure you are not scaring off any gentlemen," she assures. "And, if so, they were likely never worth dancing with."

Eleyna offers a muted smile to Cara as she walks away, "I never do. I am a woman used to being... disliked."

Miriemi stares at Sophie for a long time before breathing out. "Mercy be, you're serious, y' poor bastard." She picks up the mead bottle by the neck and takes another extended swig. "I don't know what battlefields you've been on, yer Highness, but I doubt y've seen the same ones I have, else you'd be lookin' far less fresh-faced an' prob'bly a good deal drunker. I'm sure y'know how to stitch up a wound, but do y' know how t' make 'em? B'cause believe me, one is much harder than t' other." She casts an eye over the pair standing behind Sophie's shoulder. "Family'f yers, Princess? Not surprised. Lady as beautiful 's you never stays that way fer long 'less she can afford good bodyguards."

Isabeau inclines her head politely, a strand of blonde hair popping out of place and drifting over her forehead, "Thank you kindly for the compliments, I assure you though, our home is usually a far more somber place. I imagine our Chamberlain is going to be none too pleased with the affair of cleaning up."

Raising a finger to her lips, she smiled at Dafne, "If you seek a dance partner, I can offer the services of my brother, Prince Beaumont, an esteemed champion and perfect gentleman. He can never say no to a beautiful lady."

Natalia arches her brows at Isabeau's announcement when her escort is offered to everyone. There is a narrowing of her eyes but then she looks back towards Beaumont. "It seems that your duties as escort to me has been removed." She nods her head to him as she lifts her arm from his arm. She looks back towards Sophie, but her smile is less full. "Well met."

Cara glances between Dafne and Isabeau and says brightly, "Oh, Your Highness, that would be delightful. I'm sure Lady Dafne would greatly enjoy the experience." She is...perhaps too delighted for this. Maybe.


"I would love to continue this talk later, and I would also like you to consider some of the things I've said." Beaumont says rather seriously, as Natalia knows what he is talking about, and Serious Beaumont is quite Serious! But he turns to Dafne, his smile wide, and offers a hand to her. "I am indeed an esteemed champion, as my dear sister said. But I would not simply stand and make you wait for a dance. What is your name, young lady?"

Orazio leads Joscelin off of the dance floor as their dance comes to an end, speaking warmly and quietly to her. He bows to her. "A rare pleasure, Mistress Joscelin."

Orazio has left the Main Floor.

Dafne glances at Isabeau and then at the...incredibly delighted Cara. "Thank you, your highness," she says. "That would be very kind of the prince. If he is free. Of course, if he is otherwise occupied, I wouldn't dream of interrupting." She looks at Cara again, expression faintly quizzical, before Beaumont speaks. She arises with a swish of her skirts, her cheeks turning brilliant scarlet. She reaches to take his offered hand. "Lady Dafne Zaffria, your highness."

Joscelin has left the Main Floor.

Natalia cuts a look towards Dafne and nods her head towards Beaumont and offers a comment. Then she nods towards the other and seems to turn as if she's going to leave.

"I look forward to it, Your Highness," Sophie smiles, telling Natalia, "I am partial to ginger and lemongrass, myself." Oh, how she loves tea. And speaking of things she loves, that smile turns radiant and adoring when it is turned upon her brother, whose cadence she playfully mimics. (Again, decorum be damned.) "Beaumont! I am." Which he wound know she sincerely mean. Eyes of summer sky blue widen a bit, darkly golden brows lofting with curiosity. "Oh?" The Mercy's gaze drifts to the dance floor, settling on the one artist she knows. "Mistress Joscelin?"
    Then back to Miriemi, who manages to draw a faint frown, her tone the somber one of someone who is versed in the horrors of war. Although, admittedly, not someone who has first-hand experience of being on the receiving end of a grievous wound. "I have been on those where countless have died, or cried out in agony for death, or irreparably maimed and left for dead, where the scars and damage go well beyond flesh and bone. Were I to be so far into my cups, goodwoman, I would be of no use at all." True believer? Yeah. She is.
    As for her family, Beaumont is ditching his date, and Sophie's eyes trail after him, indicating, "Aye," smiling a bit wryly, but the utmost fondly, "That is my brother, Prince Beaumont." Glancing backwards, she notes, "And this is Princess Natalia Grayson..." Who appears to be leaving.

Natalia offers to Dafne, "Well he is escorting me, so I suppose you must decide the proper decisions to make." Her eyes move to Isabeau and then towards Cara. They sit on Cara before she looks up at Beaumont and then back to Dafne and smiles. "I am sure that no one would wish to break etiquette too badly."

Orazio steps back from Joscelin as she's hailed by Sophie, although he turns and offers Sophie a warm smile of greeting, as well.

Cara glances to Natalia and inclines her head, saying gently, "It is kind of you to lend your escort to a young lady who has yet to experience the delight of a ball. But such is the position of one who knows her own value, I've always thought -- those rich in the bounties of beauty and kindness have such generosity."

Eleyna procures a glass of wine for herself, narrowly avoiding talk of escorts and dancing. Eleyna moves away from the refreshments to a spot near the dance floor. She sips from the glass, watching the dancers with a dispassionate gaze, whatever she might be thinking hidden beneath her expressionless exterior.

Sylphie's lips are caught into a smile, matching the Lycene dance movement for movement with an easy sensuality that comes with such a dance as a matter of course. If it draws a Valardin eye or two-- well, they are Lycene and she seems unapologetic even until she dips into a slow, graceful curtsey in turn to Niccolo. "The pleasure was all mine, my lord duke. Thank you again for rescuing me from a danceless social function, yet again," she offers, before she moves to retreat towards the table that Lady Cara occupies.

Dafne pauses for a moment, and then smiles a smile of radiant sweetness, her cheeks still flushed. "It is so very kind of you all," she murmurs. "I am still so overwhelmed by the expanse and complexity of this city sometimess--and sometimes, too, by the generosity of its people."

Isabeau tried not to show any discomfort at the brewing situation, signaling the servants to make sure everyone had an adequate amount of alcohol in their glass even if that might help contribute to the problem.

The utmost in composure, she looked between Natalia and Dafne, a simple nod in response to the words of wisdom from Cara, "Princess Natalia, I meant not the slightest bit of disrespect, nor would I have dreamed of denying you the first dance with my brother. I only meant to offer Lady Dafne a dance with him later in the evening, as she is new in the city and does not know many people. Please accept my apologies on behalf of my House. If there is anything I can do to right this situation, I will endeavor to."

Niccolo dips his head to Sylphie, watching her as she moves over to that table and turns back just in time to see Valkieri leading Dawn off the dance floor as well. His gaze falls on the two of them. "Lord Valkieri, Lady Dawn," he greets them both, with a small bow. "As you are done with your dance, would you mind terribly if I take over?" He asks, the words aimed at both the lord and the lady, but letting his eyes linger on Dawn. "Or do you need some refreshments first? Because I'm sure we can snatch something on our way back to the dance floor," he tells her.


"Ah, Lady Cara! You know, I saved her from a beast that towered over even the largest statue you've ever seen, with a wing span longer than a building! It chased her all the way to me, but I performed my duties as a prince, and fended the foul creature off." Beaumont excitedly boasts, and then returns to the situation at hand, clearing his throat. "I have no desire to disrespect Princess Natalia, nor to dishonor my sister's wishes. So do you believe it would be acceptable to dance with me now, and I will offer this young lady her first dance later?" he asks of Natalia, offering his hand to her.

Orazio fetches Joscelin a refreshment, and once she's settled in with it, he quietly makes his parting with his own glass, and takes a moment to rest by the dance floor, white robes whispering around him as he watches all with interest. At least now there's a faint smile softening his habitual dourness.

Miriemi scratches the side of her face, worryingly close to her almost open wound. She considers Sophie for a few moments. "Hmm. Maybe so, yer Highness, but I think y' need t' fight a war to understand one." She waves a hand, indicating the rest of the hall. "Y' nobles... y' might go marching off at the head of a thousand-strong army, but the most fighting y'do is a duel or two or maybe a nice glorious charge on horseback to clean up after t' footsoldiers. Get yerself in a real melee and maybe you'll get it." She takes a long swig, throwing her head back, flipping stringy black dreadlocks in an arc. Within five seconds, she's finished the bottle. "An' now I'll be findin' m'place again. Who knows? If'n i'm lucky, might find a warm bridge t' sleep under. Thanks f' the booze." And with that, she tosses the bottle aside and is striding for the door, her expression unreadable.

Miriemi drops a minutely hazy gold mead with a herbal tea-like scent.

"From you, my lord, I'll settle for congratulations. It's no small thing to partner a Lycene on the dancefloor successfully," Dawn tells Valkieri as he leads her to the edge. She gives his hand a light squeeze as they step off, her smile for him shifting to Duke Niccolo as he approaches. "Ah, good evening, my lord! I've no objections if Lord Valkieri doesn't," she remarks, tilting a glance between them. "I think I've stamina enough for second before I have to run for a wine cask."

As Lady Sylphie approaches the now crowded table, there's a hint of a brow lifted. "My lady sister," she greets of Cara first though, warmly, as she hasn't seen her yet tonight. And then her smoky gaze drags to Beaumont, a smile playing at her lips briefly, but she says not a word to the prince. Instead, she focuses on stopping a servant for a glass of wine before drawing closer to Cara to murmur something to her sister-in-law.

Sylphie has left the Main Floor.

Sylphie has joined the Cavalier Table.

Dafne, still standing, dips a little curtsy toward Beaumont, and murmurs, "I did not expect this honour, your highness, so I make no claims on the order of your dances. Nor do I wish to show any disrespect to her highness or anyone else." Her words are polite, but no less sincere for that." Her glance turns to Cara, and she murmurs, "Beasts have a fondness for dear Cara. She is so beautiful and sad, like a tragic heroine."

Natalia turns her eyes towards Isabeau when she speaks and there is a pause. A look. "Hmmm." The noise is given for a moment as her eyes slide over Cara's table. "I am sure that is for such people." She offers as she looks back towards Dafne. There is something icy to her eyes, but it could just be a show of the lights before is it blinked away. Then her eyes slide towards Isabeau and then Beaumont. Her hand touches his as she looks towards his eyes. There is a something to that look but she doesn't lower her voice again. At least not yet.

Eleyna glances at Orazio as he stops for a rest near to her own position of observation. She offers the man a small smile and murmurs in greeting, "Good evening, Archlector. It seems you have recovered from whatever beating my beast of a sister inflicted upon you quite nicely." Her voice is a soft, husky drawl, but still able to be heard over the music and conversation around them.

The Lady Sylphie Zaffrias brow draws sharply upwards to Natalia's look to her cousin Dafne, even as she speaks softly to Cara.

*Zaffria's

Cara slants Dafne a look at that, observing drily, "Is that it? I rather thought I got too close to a carrot it was trying to eat, and suffered the consequences. Nevertheless, Prince Beaumont did rescue me in a very bold fashion. He is the epitome of a valiant knight, and should be praised for it." She lifts a glass in salute to the prince, then tilts her head to murmur something to Sylphie, resting her hand lightly on the other lady's arm for a moment.

Cara is overheard praising Beaumont.

Orazio looks to Eleyna, first with surprise, and then with a smile. "Good evening, Princess Eleyna. And I fear I cannot allow the wrong person to get credit for my beating - I was sparring with Lord Victus Thrax before your sister arrived. It was...humbling, but enjoyable. Your sister arrived afterwards. I hope you and she...ah, well, I hope you are doing well?"

"I'm afraid that, as a Lycene, I'm unable to offer congratulations for the mere fact of avoiding my toes," Valkieri tells Dawn with excessive sobriety in his expression. "I do think there's a law against it." His apologetic expression shifts into something more polite when Niccolo approaches. There's only the barest moment's hesitation before he says, "Of course. I hardly have claim on the lady's entire evening, my lord." He offers him a respectful nod, and then Dawn one last small smile, before slipping away. A quick identification of those in his party at the Cavalier Table have him headed in that direction.

Valkieri has left the Main Floor.

Valkieri has joined the Cavalier Table.


Beaumont quite gracefully whisks Natalia off to the dance floor, wrapping one arm around her waist, while taking her hand into his remaining one. "I apologize, this has been an intense night. I hope that it at least offered you some excitement?" he asks, hopefully, because why not glass half full!

Natalia has joined the Main Floor.

"I have tried being the tragic heroine, but I am afraid I have never managed to pull it off quite as well," is only softly teasing on Sylphie's part, her smile still warm and bright. Her cheeks probably still slightly flushed from the exhertion even as she glances briefly towards where Niccolo leads Dawn to the floor. "But I am glad you are going to dance, Dafne my love. He should be honored to have /your/ company." She murmurs something, briefly, to Cara after she says it, however.

Beaumont has joined the Main Floor.

Just like that, Sophie is left standing there, seemingly musing over at least some of what Miriemi said before departing. The Beacon of Valardin dims slightly, her expression pensive and, perhaps, and tad melancholy. War and death and woundings are never a happy subject.

Just like that, one of Valardin's assiduous servants is cleaning the broken glass from the bottle the vagrant veteran tossed aside.


There is another "hmmm" given from Natalia to the words from the Prince. However, she moves into the dance steps elegantly with him. It is when they are close that her voice drops to him. She does smile but there is something off to the smile for now. "There is excitment and then excitment."

Niccolo inclines his head in gratitude to Valkieri and turns his attention to Dawn. He offers his hand to the lady. "Thank you, my lady," he says to her, and then leads her back to the dance floor. There, he positions one hand on the back of her waist. The other takes her hand in his, his fingers interlacing with hers. The duke takes her into the steps of the dance, leaning in to speak quietly with her. The first few steps are simple, combining the movement of their feet along with a spin an a twirl here and there.

"It takes a generous man and a humble spirit to admit to taking a beating at all, no less assuring that proper credit is given for it. You have my admiration. As for myself, I am well enough. I am Lycene. Wine, music, dancing. It's our milieu, no?" Eleyna's smile is polite and friendly. For her.

Dawn casts a last smile at Valkieri before she shifts her hand to Niccolo's and returns to the floor from whence she came. Here is a posture she's familiar with! Hand in hand, and her other lifting to find its place on his shoulder, she shifts to adjust to the Duke's leadership. Slow and simple proves no great challenge-- that pace, and that simplicity, she can step through without too much fuss. Even a touch of graceful, now that she's loosened up.


"That is to be expected when we attend social occasions with rules on top of rules, and all sorts of etiquette and propriety to consider." Beaumont shakes his head, trying to offer a reassuringly confident smile. "Princess Natalia, I'm the prince who left to become a champion, and declined the opportunity for knighthood. No one would dare blame an elegant, graceful woman like you, for the actions of someone such as myself. You appear as no more than the victim of my own absent-minded fumbling of the social graces. And who could blame someone who is unfamiliar with me, for that?"

Dafne settles down at the table again, and settles her chin on her hand again. "You are a perfect villainous mastermind," she informs Sylphie. Her tone, too, is teasing, and full of admiration. "The kind all readers secretly cheer for, because she is always so much more interesting and competent than the heroine."

Sylphie's voice holds a hint of laughter, even as she offers too loud in the shifting noises of the ballroom, "Or a thing for widows." She catches herself the next moment, realizing just how the music and sound managed to shift to offer that moment of quiet. Awkward. She is already taking a big gulp of wine, so she only greets Valkieri with another.

Isabeau has joined the Cavalier Table.

Sylphie certainly doesn't seem competent right this moment, but she recovers to add to Dafne, "Thank you. I appreciate your faith in me."

"At least there is some benefit, to make amend for the lonely nights and long stretches of silence," Cara says to Sylphie, sipping her wine with a straight face. Maybe she's joking, maybe she isn't. She watches the dancers, though, and sways very slightly with the music, seemingly unaware that she's doing it.

"I have always felt that when a warrior bests you, it is not a shame, but a lesson and a challenge to become greater. Although," Orazio admits ruefully, "there is only so much improvement one can do at my age." To her claim, he inclines his head. "I have fewer opportunities for such revelry these days, but sometimes it is nice to shake oneself out of the paperwork. Is there anything I can procure for you, Your Highness? A drink, or some refreshment?"

The Princess Natalia nods her head a moment as her eyes slide over towards Cara's table and then back towards the Prince she is dancing with. There is less conversation for a moment. "I am sure that you have your reasons for what choices you have made." Her smile curving her lips a bit more to that. "You are afterall a charming champion that cannot say no to a pretty girl." That's what Isabeau said, right? There is a glance as she looks around the ball and back to the man. Her voice dropping.

Eleyna gestures to her wineglass with a smile, "No, I've all I need for now, but your care and consideration are appreciated." Her eyes drift over the dancers again as she sips from her wine glass, murmuring over its rim, "I've had few opportunities for revelry myself in recent years."

Isabeau has taken a break from being on her feet, joining those at the Cavalier table in conversation and the delights that the Valardin Chefs have put together for the assembled guests; many of them among the most upstanding and respected individuals in the compact.

A maid approaches Isabeau and the pair exchange brief words before the girl rushes off. No doubt some plan being put into place to solve the evident lack of dance partners.


"Don't think me so shallow, Princess. But to deny both my sister's wishes, and a young girl her first dance, it simply seemed unacceptable. It had nothing to do with the discussion we were having, in case you were thinking I intentionally tried to insult you." Beaumont states as he gracefully, swirls the two of them around a few times, knowing his way at least around the basic noble dances, but not anywhere near enough to improvise his own moves.

"So I have heard," Orazio says, quietly. His smile has an apologetic tilt to it. "I am sorry for your loss. Hopefully, you will find Arx enjoyable. I'm told that it has many agreeable entertainments, both of the quieter and more, ah, vigorous sorts. And if I can be of service, of course, you have but to say." A pause. "Although I can really only offer vigorous debates on theology and tea as a diversion."

The Duke of Tor's arrival is perhaps late for the evening, though he comes dressed in more formal clothing than he is otherwise prone to wearing. The colors are the same, dark grey silks threaded throughout with touches of red and black leather boots polished to a sharp shine. Simple, but cut from quality fabrics, his attire for the evening manages to be an appropriate, if modest, show of formality. Light green eyes travel quickly over the nobles present, those both recognized and unknown, as he pauses near the threshold to the evening's entertainments.

Natalia gives a slight laugh at something Beaumont has said to her as they dance. A shake of her head as she responds to his low comment with one of her own. Then she offers him a smile. "It is not shallow to offer a lady a dance and you cannot be blamed for your sister offering your time." She gives him a larger smile to that. "As long as it was not intentional, then I cannot blame what has happened, can I?"

tt :snorts, entirely unaffected by Cara's censure. "That's hardly a suicide. Uncle Lodovico certainly wasn't planning his own death when he married her." He frowns at his sister. "No. It's hardly worth distracting you." He looks back to Isabeau, looking a bit blank. "What happened?" he asks, glancing at the others.

Eleyna nods her head slowly, her eyes still on the dancers as she murmurs, "None are sorrier than I, but you are right. There are delights in this city to distract us all from our grief." Her pale blue gaze is turned on Orazio as she smiles. "Truthfully, tea and theology sound delightful. I'm not of much of a scholarly bent myself, but I enjoy conversation."


"Well then, you have nothing to worry about. The first thing you've learned about me, I hope, is that I am not a man easily led by his whims, despite how I may appear at times. I am muscular, dashing, a man who wields the largest sword in the land, but above all of that, I am a prince." Beaumont uses his most regal tone for that sentence, even holding his strong chin up for a few seconds, for emphasis. "And regardless of how some men carry that title in other lands, I carry it with strength and dignity. I break etiquette, I even occasionally break honor, but dignity and strength are things that I will never break."

"Very well," Cara answers her brother -- whatever they were saying at the table, her words fall into the gap between one chord of music and the next. She looks up as the Duke of Tor is announced and tilts her head faintly, before murmuring to her compatriots at the table, "I hope you'll excuse me?" She rises and steps away from them, taking a moment to squeeze Valkieri's shoulder and touch Dafne's arm supportively, before making her way to wherever Leo seems likeliest to end up.

Sylphie's silvered gaze lifts as the knight at the entrance announces the Duke of Tor, even surrounded as she is by family and friends and Valkieri. It lingers there, her smile softening in an invitation, perhaps, if Leo looks her way. Wrapped as she is in blood red silk that exposes the entire length of her spine, well-- She couldn't possibly fit into this crowd of Valardins.

"Then conversation is something I can provide," Orazio offers. "Please, once you find it convenient, send a messenger, and we will make time to enjoy tea and conversation. I will even try not to have it all center around the gods." He glances at the floor, then back at her. "Would you care to dance, Your Highness?"

Cara has left the Cavalier Table.

"Announnnnciiiiiiiiiing Duke Leo Fidante of Tor!" cries out the rather stern-faced herald wearing ceremonial full plate mail with a gold-etched halberd.
    That is enough to break Sophie's reverie. She has yet to meet the man, but her Highlord cousin, Edain, holds him in high respect. Sauntering over, she smiles amiably, "Welcome, good Duke. I am Princess Sophie."

Eleyna's eyes widen very faintly in surprise. She glances around for some place to set down her wine glass. Once relieved of it, Eleyna takes a step toward Orazio and holds out one slim, pale hand, "Of course. Nothing would please me more."

"There is much to learn about everyone, Your Highness Champion." Natalia offers to him as they dance through the steps. "I can see you are modest and I'm sure you have the largest... sword in the lands." There is a slight flush of color on her cheeks to that before she nods a bit. "Sometimes there is dignity and strength in etiquette and honor." A breath is given as she offers another low comment to him. It is as if she's waiting for an answer.

Leo glances at the knight as he's announced, the outlines of a wry grin touching his lips as he gives the man a small dip of his head. He takes several steps into the room, his gaze drawn to the Zaffria-Rubino pair at the Cavalier table, though he first sketches a bow in Edain's direction, a warm smile given to the host of the evening. As he's about to approach the head table, he is pulled up short by Sophie's arrival. He gives the younger woman a quick look before offering her a polite nod, "Princess Sophie. A pleasant evening to you and honor to your house."

Orazio takes the offered hand and bends over it, gracefully. "The pleasure is all mine," he says, before leading her to the dance floor and offering a very proper embrace to guide them into the music. "If we cannot dance at a ball, after all, can we truly say we are honoring our homeland?"

Orazio has joined the Main Floor.

Eleyna has joined the Main Floor.

Isabeau took her leave of the Cavalier table for the time being upon hearing of the arrival of the latest guest, the first in quite some time since the Grand Ball had started. Stepping towards the Duke delicately and providing a full curtsey, Isabeau introduced herself, "Princess Isabeau Valardin. It is an honor that you grace our event with your presence." Stepping beside her sister and admiring the Duke's finery she spoke, "As my sister has said, our cousin speaks very highly of you. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."


"Sometimes, yes. But many of our status don't know when to see the dignity and strength in breaking those things, and learning that is how I came to be who I am now." Beaumont quite confidently explains, and then smiles at her whispered question. "Yes, well, now that you've shown yourself to be different from what I previously presumed, I will indeed."

Isabeau has left the Cavalier Table.

"You are the second to presume me a certain way. I feel like I should be insulted." Natalia offers, but it is with a smile on her lips. She is perhaps getting back to herself. She spins with him and then dances more through the steps. "I am a little curious what you first thought, but I do not wish to hear out loud yet." She winks towards him a bit to that as they move through the steps. She's focused on her dancing partner and not so much the others in the room, yet.

Eleyna steps into Orazio's embrace gracefully and follows his lead with a skill that doesn't shame her homeland or family name at the very least. "It's been quite a long time since I've danced. I was afraid I might have forgotten." Some of the chill eases from Eleyna's eyes and tone with each passing moment.

Behind Sophie arises a wraith -- well, no. It's just Cara, who is quite tall, and wearing white, and apparently lurking with just enough grace not to seem like a weirdo stalker (one hopes). "Good evening, Princess Sophie, Duke Leo. I thought I would take a moment to introduce myself -- as I am under Lady Dawn's strict orders to be charming to House Fidante whenever possible." She lowers her brow in thoughtful consternation and adds, "And as I am loyal, I would do my best. Lady Cara Ashford. Hello." She looks to Sophie and adds, "Your family has done a lovely job with the gala, Princess. I must visit Sanctum some day, if it is even half as lovely as what your family has done here." Isabeau is included in the compliment with a bow of Cara's head, before the lady adds to Leo, "And now I have done my duty and shall let you enjoy the evening." She offers a brief dip of a curtsey, graceful, and looks like she's prepared to disappear.


"Perhaps that should wait until we can have a deeper discussion, and I'm not trying to step on your toes." Beaumont says quite literally as he tries to pay attention to his steps. Then he's considering the rest of the dance floor. "When I dance with Dafne, I don't want you to be bored. Is there anyone you'd like to dance with?"

A nod of equal depth and politeness is extended to Isabeau as she takes her place next to Sophie, Leo smiling at both, "It pains me at times the many years I've been away from the Oatlands, but nothing returns me to such pleasant memories as the warm greetings of House Valardin. Lord Edain has been most gracious to me in his friendship and I am honored that it extends to his family as well." As Cara arrives and gives her name, a hint of mirth passes behinds the Fidante's eyes, disappearing as he dips his head once more, "Lady Cara. Lord Prospero has mentioned your loyalties to Grayson. I appreciate the vigor of your efforts in her service and am pleased I could put a face with the name."

Natalia looks around the area as he asks if she wants to dance with another in ther room. Her eyes slide over Valkieri, Niccolo, Orazio and Leo as if pondering them each. Then she smiles and him and offers. "But if I look bored and give longing looks towards you, it is bound to speed up your dance to get you back to my side isn't it? I feel I might get too charmed by the other men." She winks at him though.

Those who know Sophie well know that she is far more comfortable on a battlefield or in the House of Solace than she is in aristocratic events. Which is to say that she is entirely happy to let Isabeau take point. "Indeed," she agrees, cordial as cordial can be. "May we offer you refreshment, milord?"
    "Oh, but then Cara is there, and the Mercy of Valardin turns around to offer welcoming smile. "Well met, Lady Cara, and thank you for your kind words and your presence, although all praise is due my sister." Whom she casts a most affectionate look. With a hint of mischievous mirth, Sophie does add, "Well, perhaps I had a hand," literally, "when it came to the catering."
    Then, back to Leo, warmly, "The Oathlands holds you in esteem, milord, and is grateful for your honorable friendship." Noted with an appreciative dip of her head.

"Ah, he has? Then I would be remiss if I did not also compliment his loyalty to your own house, my lord. I confess, when one is negotiating treaties with a lawyer, it is something of a stressful endeavor, but Lord Prospero has made every effort to be as patient with me as he can. It is much appreciated," Cara glances down, not quite smiling, but her eyes show her amusement. To the Valardin sisters, she again ducks her head and says mildly, "It's delightful. And no poisonings -- what a marvel. I shall have to inform my family that a party without a violent row and/or a severe injury due to duelling is actually both possible and pleasant. Who knew?"

"If you look bored and give longing looks, it will surely increase my reputation considerably. But we will see, perhaps it will depend on how longing your looks are." Beaumont does laugh, slowly dancing her to the edge of the dance floor. "Though I highly doubt that you will be more charmed by someone other than me."

Natalia laughs to that last comment. "Your modesty, you must teach me how you manage it." She shakes her head a bit to that as she offers. "Oh, I planned on the look being as longing as it needed to be." She lifts her hand in attempts to (gasp) touch his cheek. Then she turns her eyes towards the floor, "Lady Dafne? I believe you are up next on the modest prince's dance card." She looks back to Beaumont. "Do be mindful of her feet please."

Niccolo finishes his dance with Dawn, it's been mostly a classical one with a slowing down right by the end. When it finishes, the duke bows to the Voice of Grayson. "Thank you for the pleasure, my lady. It was lovely." He gets ready to lead her out of the dance floor.

"My modesty knows no equal in all the land!" Beaumont shouts quite proudly, and then offers his large hand out in Dafne's direction. "Lady Dafne, I believe it is time for you to make all of your peers burst with jealousy."

"Your Grace, I hope we can be just as gracious in our friendship." Isabeau signaled one of the maids who brought over the drinks Sophie had only just offered, "The hospitality of our House is open to you on this eve."

A soft laugh escaped her lips at Cara's words and she nodded, "Provided you can assure my safety, I would look forward to seeing what a party like you described is like."

Her gaze shifts to the dance floor, mostly on Beaumont and Natalia, hoping there would be no consequences for the earlier slight before smiling at Leo, "Would you care to Duke Leo?"

tt :admits, "I think I might put down some silver to see someone spill their wine on her. Just to see what happens." He watches as Beaumont comes to claim his dance with Dafne, expression somewhat sardonic, and turns his gaze to Sylphie with some consideration. He arches a brow at her in something like invitation.

Lady Sylphie clears her throat, her brow curving upwards at Beaumont as she calls back for Lady Dafne, since she is the Voice of Zaffria, "You may come to collect my cousin, dear prince, or you may not have her at all." She quirks a finger, beckoning him over to the table.

Dawn steps to the side of the dancefloor, her hand curled oevr Niccolo's. "And thank you for asking, my lord. We'll make that chance soon, I promise. I'm ever so slowly learning to prioritize," she says in a tone that's meant to make a joke of it-- though whether the joke is that she's capable of such, or that she's learning only slowly, the lady doesn't elaborate. Instead she turns to dip the Duke a curtsy before she steps free of the dance floor. And then? To the nearest server with a full tray of drinks to steal from, for the Voice has a thirst.

"Would you care to dance, Duke Leo" Isabeau corrects.

"Oh, no poisoning," Sophie concurs with Cara, mirth in her mouth that carries to her summer sky blue eyes. "Our way is to announce that we are to undertake a great and noble quest to vanquish you." Beat. "And then vanquish you."

"I am not often one for formal balls, my Lady, though Valardin's is a song difficult to ignore. As for a drink, I am well for the moment, thank you." Leo flashes a pleased grin at Sophie when she reasserts the household friendships, a look that turns to amusement when he responds to Cara, "Yes, Lady Cara, that is much of the reason why it is he, and not I, that handles such things. His loyalty and abilities make for a most accomplished representative to our interests and it is a shame he could not attend this evening due to those very same qualities of character." He glances up at Beaumont's loud proclamation, an eyebrow arching, "Perhaps less poisonings and brawls, but nonetheless replete with amusements of its own." To Isabeau he offers a light laugh, "I must forewarn you, my Lady, that a dance with me could end in a tragedy for slippered feet."

"I believe it. I am very grateful not to be an enemy of House Valardin," Cara answers Sophie gravely, "For such people, I believe, find themselves rapidly entering the state of existence known as 'squishy' and 'decomposing'."

Dafne finishes her wine at her table, gaze drifting somewhere off to the side as Natalia calls her. Oh, what a pretty wall. She looks to Beaumont as he addresses her, and her full lips quirk in a faint smile. "Do you believe they'll be jealous if you step on my toes, your highness?" she wonders, arising and moving to the dance floor with a flicker of dark silk.


Beaumont immediately begins to march over, back straight, stride confident. "Of course, Lady Sylphie! I meant no disrespect." He leans down once he's at their table,, then offers his hand. "I will not step on your toes. I vow that I would sooner allow myself to fall and endure the humiliation."

Natalia has left the Main Floor.

Niccolo comes to a stop after he's led Dawn out of the dance floor. He looks at the gathering briefly. "I'll be taking my leave now, but thank you once more. Enjoy the rest of your night, my lady," he says to Dawn, and after making sure to catch a look from both Sophie and Isabeau, sharing a hint of a smile in their direction and a incline of his head, he steps toward the exit.

Niccolo has left the Main Floor.

Dawn has left the Main Floor.

Natalia cants a smile at Dafne and Beaumont but she moves to collect a drink. Her eyes slide over the people at the party thoughtfully. That's right mav'er. She's right by the wine. However, she also glances towards the door as well.

Sylphie takes a slow sip of the new wine she's fetched, meeting Valkieri's arched brow with a quirked one of her own, more challenging than inviting. But she exhales a sigh, murmuring a quiet word to her co-Voice. But she's setting aside her drink and reaching for his hand despite any protest that murmur might bring to tug him to the dance floor

Dafne tilts her head back to regard Beaumont. Waaaay up. "I am much smaller than you, your highness," she points out, taking his hand. "And might break easily. I entrust my toes into your care, then. My tiny, fragile toes."


Beaumont takes Dafne's much smaller hand into his, and carefully leads her to the dance floor. "Tell me, how did one so small and delicate such as yourself avoid having a dance? Do these men lack such confidence in their control over their own strength that they truly believe they'll crush you?"

As it seems that her sister and the good Duke Fidante are about to depart for the dance floor, Sophie offers a genteel bow and steps aside. This permits her to notice the advance of Niccolo, whom she offers a welcome smile. "Good evening, Duke. It is a delight to see you present. Welcome. Thank you for joining us. I do hope that you have been enjoying yourself."

Isabeau's eyebrows arched and her smile turned into a playful grin, "The Gods must have smiled upon us both then." For a moment it looked like Isabeau was about to scandalously reveal some ankle and become the biggest hedonist in Valardin History since Princess Dulceali but instead she revealed a pair of white boots worn over her feet, "A Good Valardin woman always comes adequately armed against her dance partners." There was a hint of mischief in her voice as she added, "I can even take it slow with you your highness."

There's a certain familiarity in the way Valkieri takes Sylphie's hand and follows -- or leads? -- her to the dance floor, as only two people who have known each other their entire lives have earned. On the floor, he flattens a hand on her bare back and folds the other over hers as he draws her close.

There's a certain familiarity in the way Valkieri takes Sylphie's hand and follows -- or leads? -- her to the dance floor, as only two people who have known each other their entire lives have earned. On the floor, he flattens a hand on her bare back and folds the other over hers as he draws her close.

Valkieri has left the Cavalier Table.

Valkieri has joined the Main Floor.

Sylphie has left the Cavalier Table.

Dafne has left the Cavalier Table.

Dafne has joined the Main Floor.

Sylphie has joined the Main Floor.

With a fresh glass of wine secured, Dawn makes quick work of draining it-- keeping up with two Lycene dancers in quick succession works up a thirst. No delicate lady she, at least in this instance, she at least has a smile for the servant as the empty glass is passed back at him. Then, Grayson's Voice collects herself and moves to give pay her respect to the hostesses. "Princess Sophie, this was wonderful. Unfortunately I have to be going but should you ever host another, do please let me know."

"Perhaps, your highness," suggests Dafne as she follows Beaumont onto the dance floor, "they simply looked right over my head. There do seem to be a lot of very tall men in this city."

Laughter fills the small corner of the hall occupied by Leo at Isabel's comment, a touch of respect in his response, "Very well, your Highness. A tourney bout of feet on the dance floor it is." Before extending his hand to the princess, he dips into a low bow for Dawn, "My Lady," he offers in way of both greeting and parting. As he straightens, he extends a hand to the young princess, "Shall we?"


"Perhaps, indeed! I didn't see you until my sister pointed you out, after all!" Beaumont reaches down for her back, and then takes her hand into his, beginning his veeery careful motions through the dance floor. "Though such a small lady should then grow her heart so large and bright that no one could possibly step on or ignore you. No matter the height, you could easily become the largest person in the room!"

"Good evening, Lady Dawn -- lovely to see you, as always," Cara greets the other woman as the Voice of Grayson prepares to leave. She seems content to watch the dancing, merely lurking near the exit herself.

First, the Duke of Lenosia is departing, and now so is the Voice of Grayson. "Lady Dawn," Sophie merrily greets, smiling brightly. "I regret that you leave so soon, as much as I regret these shall be the only words exchanged between us this evening. Thank you for coming, and, yes, you are most welcome and will be duly notified. I do hope, however, that we will have a chance to become better acquainted before then."

Dawn reserves a smile for Cara alone as she steps by. She follows the woman's glance and murmurs something to Lady Ashford before she too takes her leaves. But not before telling Sophie, "I hope for that as well, your highness. Gods bless and keep you."

"And you, milady," Sophie genially replies to the departing Dawn.

"I am not sure I want to be the largest person in the room," replies Dafne, relaxing into the dance. She only dances a little like a Lycene--although her understanding of the steps has that inclination, she lacks some of their more...questionable flair. "But how would I do that? Hearts are not usually seen." A pause. "Unless someone's ripped it out of your chest. Which is probably unpleasant."

Fashionably late is one thing, but Saedrus might just be pushing it arriving at this time. Better late then ever, or something. The Lycene courtesan steps in from the audience hall draped in his best silk attire, a deep teal that compliments the shade of his eyes and painted in pale chrysanthemums of silver and gold with mossy grey vines weaving along the whole of the robe, left open over his chest. Dark hair is braided over his shoulder, brushed down his back as he looks over the crowds. Not that he seems able of sneaking in with the Herald keeping up tradition and announcing "Master Saedrus Cicisbeo, Courtesan of the Saikland Greens." Saedrus winces a touch for it, but casts a small smile to the announcer and a dip of his head.

Orazio at the Knight's announcement, Orazio's head comes up from where he is speaking to Eleyna as they dance, and he looks towards Saedrus, flashing the man a smile and a nod.


"The metaphorical heart! Metaphors are important. If you have a thought, say it as loudly as you like, make sure that you are heard and not overlooked because of your height!" Beaumont tries to encourage, and turns his head to look around them. "Your personality can be ten times as large as your body. Though, you don't have to be large either, if you don't want to. Great things come in small packages, though I would know nothing about such a thing."

Isabeau takes the hand of Leo, allowing herself to be led out on the dance floor and suddenly quite glad she had conveniently just taken a rest because she was not eager to have her toes crushed. It was an art that one learned to when dancing with the sometimes seemingly always armored knights of the Oathlands, "I will admit, to perhaps remembering catching a glance of you when I was but a girl in Sanctum, but it could be childish delusion." Stepping lightly and gracefully as they moved towards the dance floor she asked, "How long have you been friends with my cousin?"

The Duke of Lenosia and the Voice of Grayson may have just both departed, but the courtesan of the Saikland Greens has just arrived, and Sophie brightens to the point that one might conclude her evening only /really/ just started.
    "Master Saedrus," she merrily greets, sauntering over, arms extended, palms up to accept his hands in friendly greeting. "How wonderful to see you. Welcome." Having forgone her usual Mercy's robe, she is quite the vision in flowing chiffon of a dreamy blue and silk of a pearlescent white. In homage to her House's proud military tradition, there is metal filigree decorating the neck and under-bust of the gown, completed with matching filigree shoulder caps that glitter with gems and the delicate draping of fine chains over the sides of the arms and back. Even her usual braid has been forgone for an elegant upsweep of gathered ringlets that cascade golden and luminous, clasped by jeweled clips shaped like dragons.

Natalia is content to stay on the outskirts for now and delicately drink her wine. Although, she does look over the room. Her eyes watch the dancers and then across the room to the others.

Saedrus' cheeks are a little warmer, not having expected to be announced as he entered, but steps further into the fray all the same. He catches sight of Orazio, lifting his head a little to be sure a bright smile is returned to the man and mouthed greeting 'Archlector' accompanying the bow of his head. Any thought to see the Archlector though are postponed when that beautiful creature swathed in blue is heading towards him with open arms. "Princess Sophie," he greets with a broad smile, taking up her hands to turn them over and touch a kiss along the knuckles of both. "You are a vision, your Highness." And when their hands part he reaches instead with a curled finger to adjust a single ringlet into more perfect position amongst the rest at Sophie's shoulder. "Please forgive my tardiness, your Highness, I was lost in some business and lost track of the hour."


"But being small and overlooked is not always a bad thing, your highness," replies Dafne, taking a quick glance down to make sure her feet are safe. "It means that things miss me sometimes. Like arrows. Not that anyone has shot arrows at me, but, in case. Sometimes it means I overhear things. And so on."

Leo has joined the Main Floor.

Leo takes Isabeu's hand in the calloused and scarred hand of a soldier, though he is quite gentle with his Valardin hostess, speaking to her in quiet tones as they move to the dance floor. "You may well have, though it was less your cousin Edain than his elder brothers. We were all very close back when I was a ward of your house, they were almost brothers to me. It is for this reason that I extend that same sentiment to his Grace, as I find much of that same sense of honor in him, even though he was too young to know well at the time." As they arrive at the dance floor, he opens his arms to the princess, turning slightly to face her.


"Overhearing is useful, but if you ever feel overlooked and unseen in a bad way, I want you to remember the power of your voice." Beaumont does take note of Natalia, then stares down at Dafne, considering. "I'll make a deal. You allow me to teach you to wield a sword, I'm sure we can find a practice one laying around somewhere, and you can be a small lady who also knows how to stab people. I'm sure that would balance out the universe. Though I believe the lovely Princess Natalia would like to return to her spot in dance rotation, my offer still stands."

Orazio leads Eleyna graciously off of the floor, and towards Saedrus, it seems. He lifts a hand briefly to try and catch the courtier's eye.

Orazio has left the Main Floor.

"I am not sure if a sword is the best weapon for me," replies Dafne, with a lift of a dark brow. "A sword might be a lot for my small hands to handle. Perhaps I should learn to stab people with...hairpins. Much more my size." She considers, step by step. "It's strange; people seem to want to teach me to fight. But, very well, you can teach me to use your sword. It'll help for when I write about duels."

Eleyna has left the Main Floor.

Cara has joined the Cavalier Table.

Cara drifts back over to the unoccupied table and takes up residence again, colonizing it through the simple expedience of settling a glass of wine on it.

"Good! Though you'll learn to use your own sword. Even some of the strongest warriors I've met are incapable of wielding my sword." Beaumont reaches out to lightly pat her on the head, slowly leading her to the edge of the dance floor. "I will keep in touch. Your family leads to interesting adventure."

The Champion Prince then makes his careful return to Natalia, holding his hand out to her. "I believe that look was just the right amount of longing."

Is she a vision? "A glad one," Sophie smiles, looking amused as Saedrus adjusts one of her ringlets. As for his being late, all is seemingly forgiven, even though there is nothing to forgive. "I imagine it takes no small amount of time to become a work of art." Stepping back, she admires his robe. "Such a lovely teal, and the chrysanthemums..."

Saedrus does catch the gesture from Orazio, watching the man move off towards the dance floor with delicate blonde woman in tow. The courtesan looks back to Sophie, offering an arm out to her, "Princess Sophie, might you do me the honour of a dance?" asked with a gracious bow before the Princess. He chuckles for Sophie's compliment, "I have yet to have one made with dahlias yet." He admits, "shall we? I hope you have not already danced too much?"


"I knew I was not imagining things. I will admit I did not share many of the same hobbies as my cousins." Isabeau assumes position when they reach the dance floor, curtseying like any good Valardin Noble would to her partner before delicately assuming the proper form and position for the current dance while being incredibly mindful of her feet. Her cobalt blue eyes looked up towards the much taller man, attention paid to the scar before asking with a playful smile, "Might I inquire how you got that scar? Not from dancing I would hope."

"I can do whatever I put my mind," replies Dafne, with a little jut of her jaw. She reaches up to pat her own hair after she is patted on the head, but she dips into a little curtsy. "Thank you for the dance, your highness. And my family is full of interestingness."

Indeed, Sophie will, genteelly accepting the offered arm. "I suspect they will most willingly pose for you." Oh, those dahlias. With a hint of good-natured laughter, she notes, "This eve, absolutely no dancing does not qualify as too much."

Natalia puts her hand in Beaumont's. "Well that's godo because I tried to get the look of longing just right for you." She smiles at him and moves easily into his arms. "I was working on the wine glass, but it never automatically refilled; so I was not certain it would have the right effect." Her eyes slide over the room and back to him. "Remember, if you step on my feet... you break it, you bought it." There is another laugh from her.

And so the evening will transpire. She will lend out her escort to dance with those waiting to dance but return to him between each dance. When the night grows long (or into morning). The most noble and modest prince will do the princely thing and escort the princess home. There is a soft questions and conversation between the two until they leave.

Seeing that Sophie and Saedrus are heading towards the dance floor as he and Eleyna have left it, Orazio chuckles. "Ah, perhaps introductions at a later time, then. I do hate to interrupt those having a good time." He turns back to Eleyna. "Is there anything I can get you, instead?"

Eleyna indeed allows the kiss to her hand and inclines her head to Orazio, "Thank you for being brave enough to escort me on the dance floor. I had thought that I wouldn't be likely to have the pleasure of dancing when I came here tonight. The evening has surpassed my expectations." She shakes her head, "No, unfortunately, I should be going, I think. But I do so appreciate the dance. Perhaps we can meet for that tea and conversation soon."

Saedrus leans close as his arm is taken and he leads off towards the main floor. A shocked expression as he looks to the woman on his arm, "not a single dance, your Highness? Well, we shall remedy this immediately." He tells her, "at least one now, then we must mingle," a beat as he leans down enough to speak near Sophie's ear, "and then, we shall dance until we collapse." Another glance and almost apologetic tilt of his head to the Archlector, and the woman he is with.


Dafne has left the Main Floor.

Dafne has joined the Cavalier Table.

Orazio offers Eleyna a bow. "If I can claim any small portion of the credit for those surpassed expectations, it will be enough. I look forward to our next meeting, which I hope will be soon. I have some lovely Oathlands green to share - light, and hardly bitter at all, even without sugar. Please be safe on your way home, and let the gods guide your steps." Saedrus receives a slight nod, and smile, and there's a deeper nod to Sophie.

"You may claim a substantial portion of the credit for my exceeded expectations, Archlector. Please, feel free to send me a messenger any time." With a final polite smile and bow of her head, Eleyna turns away and moves for the exit, offering her praise for the hostesses of the party on her way out.

Saedrus has joined the Main Floor.

Sophie has joined the Main Floor.

"Not a single one," Sophie admits, not sounding distraught. "Although I did have an interesting conversation with a veteran who did not introduce herself or linger long." And this, actually, appears to bother her somewhat. That gets brushed aside, though, when her eyes follow Saedrus' own to Orazio, whom she offers a welcoming smile and respectful nod, seeming pleased to see him in attendance. Then, in response to whatever is whispered to her, she looks in the general direction of her brother, and lets out a most lovely and merry laugh before murmuring something to the courtesan.

Sylphie checked composure + etiquette against difficulty 15, resulting in 24, 9 higher than the difficulty.

Orazio looking more than a little pleased with himself, Orazio claims a wine glass from a passing tray, and settles himself off to the side to enjoy it, watching the people move and dance with as close to a merry gaze as the Archlector seems capable of.

Isabeau has joined the Main Floor.

"There's always a certain romance attributed to it, but I think it's a way to fill what was pain with stronger memory." Leo is still moving with a bit of stiffness in his step, though he seems more relaxed than when he first graced the floor, "You're an excellent dancer, Highness. That's certainly something you can thank your childhood for, no?" He notes the hesitance, responding with a smile, "It is busy. There is always some activity here or there that demands attention. It's easy to see why this city so easily makes itself the capital of the Compact. Though I do miss your Oathlands as well, it is not exactly on the route back to Tor when I visit." His attention is briefly captures by the swirl of that is an angered young Zaffria, light eyes shifting to Valkieri on the floor before turning away politely.

Sophie tt follows fluidly enough as Saedrus leads, falling into the steps and the cadences of the melody and beat in a visceral sense as opposed to a manner of skill and practice. Indeed, several of the steps are omitted although replaced with something instinctual that doesn't seem out of place even if technically wrong. That said, no one will be waxing poetic about how beautifully she dances. They merely might remark she has a certain heart -- and noticeably less gracefulness than her sister, Isabeau. "If it is a crime, if is a victimless one. And I, too, am pleased." Then, to whatever is murmured to her, she murmurs something back.

Valkieri is left fuming on the dance floor when Sylphie storms off. It's a few moments until he strides off the floor to follow her, temper clearly crackling. He grabs for her arm, but only long enough to snap some final words to her in a low voice before he strides out of the great hall.

Dafne gets a vibrant pink rose wine with a citrus scent from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Saedrus can be seen on the dance floor with Sophie as their dance comes to pause, if only long enough for a drink it would seem. The courtesan looks about to spy Orazio from the main floor and smiles with a brief wave of his free hand.

Sylphie is a bad sister-in-law and cousin; she doesn't even stop to say goodbye to Cara or Dafne. No, on the heels of whatever fight is happening between the co-Voices of Gemecitta, they will also have to share a carriage back home since her storming intent is not cut short based on the fact that she now has to trail Valkieri out.

"Thank you, but one cannot be a good dancer unless their partner is as well so I must give you due credit in your prowess as a dancer. You're a natural it seems." Even as Isabeau speaks and engages in the delicate art of the dance with Leo, she keeps an eye on her younger sister, "I'm grateful for my childhood, it just was clearly not as exciting as that of some of my kin. They have their talents and I have mine."

Sylphie has left the Main Floor.

Valkieri has left the Main Floor.

Archlector Orazio? The very same Archlector Orazio who has just departed? "Aye, we are passingly acquainted," Sophie informs Saedrus as they leave the dance floor. Espying Isabeau and Leo, she brightly smiles before asking the courtesan, "Speaking of beauty in my family, may I introduce you to my beloved sister?"

Cara chats quietly with Dafne at the table, occasionally sipping wine and watching the dancing. Whatever it is they're talking about, though, she looks rather like she's enjoying herself, at least.

Saedrus tilts his head a touch as he notes Orazio's departure. "Perhaps another time," he adds softly. Saedrus looks aside again keeping an eye out for a server with wine, he is Lycene after all, but follows Sophie's gaze towards Isabeau and Leo smiling for the mention of introductions. "It would be a pleasure if you did, your Highness," Saedrus chuckles, abandoning the hunt for wine and detouring enough that they might meet the other pair as they depart the dance floor.


"You are far too kind." Isabeau curtseyed once again as their dance was finished and they left the dance floor, "I am most grateful that you've given me a highlight to my evening." Leaning in to whisper something to the Duke she smiled once more, "Thank you once again for coming, I know my Uncle would have been proud and happy at the friendship you and Prince Edain have."

"Of course, Highness." It is an answer to both whispered and more generally spoken words, Leo turning his attention to Sophie and Saedrus' approach. "I believe your sister wishes to introduce her companion. If you will forgive me my departure, your Highness, I had a lovely evening, even if my timing could've been a bit better." He gives Sophie a small bow, "Princess," he offers in way of parting to her, Saedrus getting a quick nod of his head before he moves to depart.

The courtesan seems a little sad about the Archlector's departure, and the Mercy of Lagoma give his shoulder a companionable squeeze of moral support. And once he has his wine, for his is Lycene, Sophie leads Saedrus to make introductions.
    "Dearheart," she lightly calls out to Isabeau, "Your Lordship," she includes Leo, "If I may present to you Master Saedrus Cicisbeo, courtesan of the Saikland Greens." Genteely, she indicates the man in question. "Master Saedrus, my sister, Isabeau, and Duke Leo Fidante of Tor." Who appears to be leaving. That is life, and he gets the parting gift of an amiable smile. "It was good of you to be here, Duke Leo. We hope that you will be a more regular visitor." Curtsying a little, she inclines her head and, "Good night to you."

Leo has left the Main Floor.

Saedrus bow graciously before Isabeau, greeting, "Princess Isabeau," and again to Leo "my Lord. Take care." He farewells as the man takes his leave. The courtesan chuckles softly, "I fear I really did arrive too late." Said with a small sigh to Sophie and her lovely sister.


Sophie has left the Main Floor.

Isabeau has left the Main Floor.

Saedrus has left the Main Floor.

Cara has left the Cavalier Table.

"Dear sister. I'm glad to see you had such a lovely night." Isabeau offers up a friendly smile and a half-curtsey for Saedrus, "It Master Saedrus, you appeared to have quite the skill as a dancer. Truly, you seemed to bring my sister to life. For that, I thank you."

Dafne has left the Cavalier Table.

Cara offers her arm to Dafne and says to the Valardin sisters, "Thank you -- it was a lovely evening." Apparently, the Ashford is walking the Zaffria home.

Isabeau picks up a minutely hazy gold mead with a herbal tea-like scent.

Isabeau puts a minutely hazy gold mead with a herbal tea-like scent in a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Isabeau gets a vibrant pink rose wine with a citrus scent from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Dafne gets an effervescent white gold wine with floral-confected tropical aromas from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

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

Companionably, Sophie links one arm with one of Saedrus' and rests the palm of the hand of her free arm atop the bicep of the arm she ensnared. "I am yet awake, so perhaps not /too/ late," she gently jests.

Saedrus dips his head politely to Isabeau, "she inspires such things, I believe." He says of Sophie before adding, "and you are flawless on the dance floor yourself, Princess Isabeau, it is a shame I did not have the chance to ask you to join me tonight. Perhaps another time." Attention turned to Sophie with the ever present warm smile, "then perhaps we have time yet to dance, Princess Sophie, if you are not yet ready to retire."


Dafne takes Cara's arm, and curtsies to the Valardin sisters as she and Cara take their leave.

Cara gets a sweet honey gold wine with buttery overtones from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Cara puts a sweet honey gold wine with buttery overtones in a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

Cara gets a minutely hazy gold mead with a herbal tea-like scent from a lustrous serpentine chest with mirror glass panels.

As Cara and Dafne depart, Sophie returns the curtsy and amiable smile. "Thank you for joining us, ladies. We hope you enjoyed yourself and that you have a lovely remainder of your evening."

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

"Perhaps another time indeed, I do look forward to it as I'm sure with Fall and Winter not long away we'll have plenty more occasions to dance." Curtseying politely, Isabeau took her leave of the pair of them before mingling with the last of the guests after a long and eventful night!