Children of Misfortune {IC}

[Tarieles]

[fieldbox="Nayyirah-Anadil, #a92121, dashed, 10, Vladimir Script"]Nayyirah-Anadil sighed as she stepped from the carriage and onto the grey stones before her. Her eyes gazed up at the castle, and she sniffed. There was a distinct fishy aroma in the air, likely from the nearby river. She flipped her silk scarf over her shoulder, finding it rather cold here. "Dema, Fata, bring my things." She ordered the two women who had accompanied her as ladies in waiting. Fata was an older woman, but not quite shriveled enough to get out of work. Dema was still a young thing, with looks rivaling the princess herself. Well, used to, until an unfortunate... accident caused a large gash across her face, leaving a nasty scar. The two women faithfully followed the princess.

Naya looked down the road, noticing many other carriages and parties were nearing. She scoffed, turning to her small group of guards. "As instructed, leave your two best men by my side." She told the captain. "Otherwise, you are free to go. Please return when I send word." The captain saluted to the young princess, and turned to the men. Two older ones stayed behind, as the carriage rode off, leaving the five desert-folk at the steps of the castle. All along the stairs were armed guards, still as statues. Without another word, Naya stepped forth, with her guards at her side, and gracefully made her way up the stairs and through the open wooden door. Inside the castle, it was very rugged yet elegant. Obviously not one for finery, this king. However, it would do for the trip. She would be here for mere months, most likely.

"Ah, welcome your highness!" Greeted a man she could only assume was the estate's concierge. "You must be Princess Nayyirah-Anadil Bolusi of Lysoria. Please, right this way. I will have servants instruct your guards and servants to your room." He gestured for a woman to show the four to the room. "There will be a small gathering of drinks and nibbles, for your mingling pleasure." Naya was gestured towards a large wooden door. As she stepped inside, she was taken aback by the beautiful ballroom. It was absolutely gorgeous, and while she hated to admit it, much better than the one she had at her own palace. There were banquet tables lined with food and drink, and two empty thrones at the front of the room. She sighed a bit, and shook her head. This whole arrangement was ridiculous, but she would go through with it. For now, she would watch the door, and try to see if she could pinpoint her Prince of Cruecia. [/fieldbox][fieldbox="Faraj Madaki, #845422, solid, 0, Viner Hand ITC"]While many of the royalty rode in carriages, Faraj rode on his horse, just like the rest of his guards. He looked about as weary and worn as them, too. There wasn't much difference in their appearance. He dismounted, turning and roughly hugging all of the men that had ridden with him for protection. "It has been a good ride. Take care, my friends. Sefi, it would honor me greatly if you were to stay with me." The man in question nodded, and the prince smiled. "Wonderful!" He took his things from his steed, and nodded to Sefi. "Then please find a good place for Khamsa. She will need a good rest and brushing."

As his guards galloped away, and Sefi went to care for the horses, Faraj made his way up the large stone stairs. He nodded to the guards, and was soon met by the concierge when he stepped inside. "Welcome to Bellmere, your highness. May we take your things to your room? Also, if you will kindly walk through that door, other royals have gathered for drink and food." Faraj handed off his bags to some servants, and made his way to the ballroom. He noticed many others were dressed a bit more appropriately than he, who was merely wearing some cloth pants, an opened leather vest, and his riding boots. However, at least others were in travel clothes. He looked around, quickly going to get some food. He was hungry from riding so far.

After taking a few hors d'oeuvres, enough to satisfy him for a short while, he began to scan the now gathering crowd, searching for his bride to be. He didn't know what she looked like, just that she was from Quvania and her name was Rosaline Montherry. No one of his kingdom had seemed to have met her before, so she was a mystery. He could only hope that he was noticeable to her.[/fieldbox][fieldbox="Adelaide Lovett, #999cd8, dotted, 20, Harrington"]Adelaide and her small handful of guards and single hand maiden arrived at the castle. The princess was very excited. She had never gone far from her own home very often, and this was a perfect chance to learn more about other countries. She only knew what they were like from books. These people would have stories- personal stories- of what happened in the different countries. She couldn't wait. She dashed from the carriage, with her young hand maiden following after her. The guards, who knew how quick she was, had already sent two to stay with her for the remainder of the trip. These two were the ones stuck with her luggage.

As the guards and carriage left, Adelaide had already burst into the main room, where she all but ignored the concierge, and hurried into the room where everyone else was filing. Her handmaiden and guards went up to her room. She gazed at the people and foods before her. This was lovely. Some wine caught her eye, and she hurried over. She loved wine. She took a glass taking a sip. She nearly spit it out. It was nothing like home wine. This was very strong. Clearing her throat a little, she placed the glass of wine on a passing waiter's tray, and instead chose something a little lighter. This one she enjoyed, and it was wonderfully sweet. "Lovely..." She mused, wandering to the small bites of food that were laid out. She also kept a lookout for her fiancee, though she wasn't even sure if he had arrived yet.[/fieldbox][fieldbox="Quinten Savoy, #87cefa, dashed, 20, Lucida Handwriting Italic"]As the carriage rode up to the front of the castle, Quinten couldn't help but shiver. It wasn't cold, no, far from it actually, he was quite warm. He was nervous. He was marrying a woman who was acclimated to the warm jungles of Melekur. He was one for the cold tundra, and he hated warm places. How was this going to work? He shook his head, stepping out of the carriage. Three guards joined him, and carried his luggage up the steps and into the grand castle. "Prince Quinten Savoy of Emain, I assume?" The concierge greeted them. "Please, the royals will be meeting in the ballroom. I will have a servant direct your guards to your room."

Quinten nodded to his guards, then smiled at the concierge. "Thank you." He told him, moving to the ballroom. There were many people here from many other countries. He didn't see his princess, so he assumed she hadn't made it yet. He went to a table, taking a glass of white wine.[/fieldbox]

 

[lxngdon]

The Princess of Quvania arrived at the castle in her simple carriage, wearing a long white dress with elaborate lace work and her hair kept out of her face by two gold combs. She looked beautiful, but the modest maiden would not accept any compliments from the ladies' maids and guards that had accompanied her to Bellmere.

After her belongings had been taken to her room by her servants, Rosaline and her favourite ladies' maid, Annabella, stepped into the grand room where the royals mingled. Rosaline had never met her husband to be, but she knew his name was Faraj and that he was the Prince of Asharia. Rosaline was excited and anxious to meet her betrothed.

"Your Grace," said Annabella, whispering in Rosaline's ear and turning her to face the opposite direction. Annabella was more of Rosaline's friend then a servant. "I believe that is your betrothed. The man with the open vest."

Rosaline observed the man, who was quite ruggedly handsome and looked very strong. She thanked Annabella before stepping forward, standing before Faraj. She curtsied politely, bowing her head slightly before smiling warmly up at the tall man. "Hello, Your Highness," she said. "My name is Rosaline Montherry, Princess of Quvania, and it is to my understanding that you are Faraj Madaki?"

Apollo had arrived to the castle, wearing his best travelling clothes, with only two guards and one butler. He and his butler stepped into the room where everyone was meeting after the concierge directed his guards to his room. Apollo was excited to meet his future queen and anxious to make sure she liked him. He could not imagine spending his entire life with someone he did not love. Even if he could not love the princess of Lysoria, he would do his best to make sure they were at least fond of one another.

Apollo's mother had ensured that he knew what his bride looked like, so he was able to pinpoint her as soon as he stepped into the room. Apollo took a drink from a passing waiter before approaching his betrothed with a smile on his face.

He was happy with her because she was a very beautiful girl. Apollo bowed slightly to her, as per Cruecian custom, before saying, "Princess, it is my absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Apollo Tandersay, Prince of Cruecia."

Aris was independent enough to not need any servants with him as he joined the gathering with the other royals. He stood off to the side a little, scrutinising the others as he watched them socialise and meet their betrothed for the first time.

Aris was highly irritated by the weather, which, while not necessarily warm, was too hot for his liking as he had been raised in the Arctic. However, it was worth it as he wanted to meet his bride to be. He wondered what she would be like; he knew her name was Brita Erlik and that the was the princess of Fulor. Orinthal had more than likely battled with Fulor before, but Aris hoped his marriage to the princess would stop the two kingdoms from warring.

"Would you like another drink, Your Highness?" James's servant asked.

"No thank you, Lila, I am more than capable of serving myself," said James. "However, if you see my bride to be, please inform me."

James was more anxious than excited to meet his fiancée. He knew what she looked like but he did not know what she knew of him. He hoped to please her when he finally did meet Rosalie Adam.

 

[Kythera]

[fieldbox="Brita Erlik, Turquoise, solid, 10"]Brita was thoroughly sick of the carriage by the time they drove up the extensive stone drive to the Bellmere palace. It was well enough, as castles went, she thought, peering out the carriage window at the stone monolith before them. At least you could still see the mountains from here, even if it was far warmer than she liked. And why was the air down here so heavy? She rubbed her forehead and cheek with one small hand, as if she could wipe away the pressure. It felt like she had stuck her head in a vise. "Gods, how long must we stay here?" she asked absently, scrunching her nose up distastefully. "The air is like lead and it smells of fish." She glanced back across the carriage at her twin, but he seemed to be in a mood of abstraction, staring out the window lost in thought. "At least you get to go back home when all this is over," she continued, rapping her knuckles against Torkal's leg to drag his attention from his inner thoughts. "I supposed I'll be dragged off to Orinthal. Well, at least it's cold there!" She shuddered to think of her escape - only imagine if she had been forced to marry the Prince of Cruecia!

The carriage came to a halt at the top of the drive, and a footman stepped forward to open the door. Brita shook out her heavy wool skirts as she disembarked, muttering under her breath about the clumsiness and idiocy of dresses. Father would have her look her best for their arrival, though ordinarily no great proponent of skirts. The worst part was she had no place to keep her weapons in this silly gown. She felt naked without a sword and axe, at least, by her side. Especially walking into a den of snakes, as it appeared to her they were doing. None of these people had any reason to love the Erliks - and many of them had many very good reasons to hate them. To throw herself among them without a single weapon seemed singularly foolhardy.

When Torkal had come around the carriage she threaded her arm through his, flashing him a little smile. "Come on, Tor, let's show these fools why they fear Fulor."[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="Torkal Erlik, orange, solid, 10"]"Mmm," Torkal said absently to his twin's ramblings. He was staring out the window, but his eyes looked past the picturesque scenery, dwelling on his bride-to-be. Treolei... a large kingdom, a profitable alliance, to be sure. It was a sensible arrangement, and he only hoped the truce would hold in the long term. It wasn't that he was against an arranged marriage - after all, he was the Crown Prince, it was only to be expected that he would make a political marriage. But he wasn't sure how to feel about his bride. Would it be a passionless marriage of convenience? Could they perhaps learn to love one another, despite being thrust together in this willy-nilly way? He hoped that possibility existed. Life without love seemed... forlorn. Empty. Soulless.

He tried to picture what his bride would look like, but to be honest he had never seen a Treoleian in his life. They were a very lawful people, that was good. He knew they were noted for their horse breeding and alcohol brewing... not as good. But even if his wife drank heavily it still didn't mean he would have to, and well, horses in mountains were just never a good fit. She would have to acclimatize. Torkal only hoped she would be a calm, rational woman, a salve to the warmongering barbarians that made up the court of Fulor. Even his dear sister, whom he loved with all his heart, was a warrior first and foremost. If only there were one person who could share his tastes and opinions he thought he could be happy.

A wave of fishy air blew up his nose, causing him to crinkle his face. Brita was right, this place did smell rank. Neither twin enjoyed fish of any kind. He hoped it did not always smell so putrid here.

Alighting from the carriage, he stretched his short legs, wincing as he shifted his weight from one to the other. He let Brita take his arm, giving her a wry little half-smile. "But what if I don't want them to fear me?" he asked, as she led him into the castle in the wake of an eager servant. She merely laughed in response, each knowing that the other would never agree on that point.

The twins entered a stunning ballroom to find several others already arrived. Blinking away the light reflecting from the glistening decor, Torkal looked around with somewhat quickened breath. Some royals certainly stood out - he was quite sure he recognized the Prince of Asharia and the Princess of Lysoria by their attire - but of the others he was uncertain. He gave a slight bow to the room in general, and dragged his twin over to the food and drink tables. Eschewing a very heavy-looking wine, he selected a lighter vintage and stood sipping it, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he examined each of the other princes and princesses present.[/fieldbox]

[fieldbox="Brita Erlik, Turquoise, solid, 10"]Entering the ballroom, Brita was at first dazzled by its magnificence. Once her eyes adjusted, however, she curled a lip and ran a critical eye over the metal-work. Not nearly so fine as that produced in Fulor. She shook out her many silver bracelets, and fingered the sapphire drop that descended nearly to her waist. The gown might be cumbersome and unusually heavy and conservative compared to the other princesses', but her jewelry was without compare. She flicked a glance at her twin's relatively restrained jewels, wishing for the hundredth time that Torkal would don the accessories that befit his station.

Torkal bowed, and Brita supposed she should follow suit, but before she could she was being pulled mercilessly over to the refreshments. Shrugging, she helped herself to the strongest drink she could find, wincing palpably when she discovered it was an overly sweet wine. "Urgh, how can they drink this swill?" she whispered to Torkal, heedless of the servant standing close enough to hear her quite clearly. She put the glass back on the tray, and flapped a hand at the servant to take it away, before turning to eye the rest of the room. It was a strange mix of looks and attire, scattered across the ballroom. Her dark brown eyes ran systematically over the other attendees, until she came to a very tall, thin young man with white-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He looked decidedly Northern. Smacking Torkal's arm she demanded, "Tor, Tor, do you think that can be Prince Aris?" He did not appear to be particularly muscular, which she found a clear fault, but at least he was very tall. In fact, he must be a full foot taller than her. Something about him looked almost cold, but it intrigued her nonetheless. "I am going to meet him and find out," she declared, abandoning Torkal to cross the room towards her presumed betrothed.

She stood squarely in front of him, her stance more fighter-like than feminine, and offered one firm little hand. "I am Brita Erlik, Princess of Fulor. Are you Prince Aris?"[/fieldbox]

 

[lxngdon]

@Kythera

Aris was studying the grand decorations when a voice caused him to look down. There stood a short, fearsome yet beautiful looking woman who was adorned with more jewels than Aris had ever worn at one time. She introduced herself as Brita, the princess of Fulor, and Aris was glad to see he had finally met his betrothed.

"Princess, I am pleased to finally meet you," said Aris. He took her small hand in his long, thin one and kissed it, as per the customs of his country. "Yes, I am Prince Aris. May I say that you look resplendent in your jewels. That would be a sapphire, correct?" He nodded to the large gem hanging near her waist.

Aris had a definite air of intelligence, but despite the fact that he always thought he was right, he was inquisitive and wanted to learn about Brita's kingdom and her culture. Sure, he had read about Fulor, but he had never had enough conversations with actual people from the mountains. He wanted to please his fiancée as he doubted he could live with someone he did not get along with.

 

[Emi]

[fieldbox="Rosalie Adam, #708c6d, dashed, 15, Vivaldi"]

Mood: Excited, Nervous, Annoyed ll Interaction: James ll #708c6d
@.♥Δ♥.LYDIA.♥Δ♥.
​

Rosalie was tired, and bored. Well, more bored than tired. That was just how she was, if she wasn't entertained, usually by exploring, she became tired and bored. Her head was in her hand, and she was staring out the window. Luckily, Bellmere wasn't to far from home. However, being in a carriage for even an hour made her feel bored and almost out think herself. Denice, her lady in waiting, was around her age and rather pretty in her own way. The only thing was that Denice acted like an old lady, and the complete opposite of Rosalie, but that made them work together somehow. Even when Denice was lecturing her about what a princess should do, and behave. Now was no different. Denice was sitting straight, and had a rather serious look on her face. Yes, Denice was the epitome of grace while Rosalie was a wild child and more often than not was found in the swamps exploring.

"Rosa, sit up straight, we are almost at the castle. Wouldn't want your future husband to see your lack of grace before getting to know your personality," Denice said sternly yet warmly.

Sighing, she glared at her slightly but straightened up. In a way though, she was right. She really should try to make the best impression with her husband before she let her shenaniguns get a head of her and probably make him wish for a different wife. Before she could reply, the carriage slowed and came to a stop. Rosalie had to withhold herself from looking out the window to see the castle. The door opened and she could finally see the castle. Her castle was big, and nice if you didn't mind the swamp. The Bellmere castle reminded her of home, from appearance to smell. While they had a slightly different fish smell, it was still close enough for her to breath in and a smile come to her face.

The two women left the carriage and made their way to the ballroom. "Now, we just need to find husband to be, and then I can go eat," she said happily and looked around the room.

She somewhat remembered what he looked like, well, kinda. More like a foggy memory or a dream, but still, she had an idea of what he looked like and that was more than most had. While Denice scanned the ballroom for Rosalie's betrothed, she slowly made her way to the food table and was able to sneak a few bites of seafood and a glass of some very sweet wine before Denice caught her. "Please princess, imagine meeting Prince James with shrimp breath!" She huffed and actually looked like she may throw a fit.

Sighing, she drank more of the sweet wine to wash away the shrimp smell. "There, better?" She asked a bit snootidly.

Her attention was pulled away from the steaming Denice when she spotted James and a small ounce of familiarity washed over her. "Denice, hush for a moment. I believe that is him," she said and set her mostly empty glass down.

Denice looked like she was steaming mad, but easily calmed down and looked elegant as usual before nodding and somewhat shoved Rosalie towards James. Rosa sighed, fiddled her her hair, which was down. While most would have fancy up does, Rosa couldn't stand the tight pins that would keep her thick black hair in place. So, like always, it was down with a piece in her hair. She made her way towards him, ignoring a princess she could already tell would annoy her. Not that it mattered, she would probably never talk to her anyway. Once in front of James, she curtsied slightly and looked at his face. "Good evening Prince James, I hope you remember me," she smiled softly.
[/fieldbox]

 

[Tarieles]

[fieldbox="Nayyirah-Anadil, #a92121, dashed, 10, Vladimir Script"]Naya turned as she heard a voice, and she saw her betrothed in front of her. She smiled at him, though it was a bit fake. Mentally, she was just wishing she could go home. "As it is the same to you." She responded, also bowing slightly. Curtsies were foreign to her. "My name is Nayyirah-Anadil Bolusi of Lysoria. However, if you have troubles with the pronunciation, you may simply call me Naya." She said, knowing he would likely have difficulties. Most foreigners did when it came to Lysorian names.

"I do hope that we can be civil towards each other in the future." She said, slight amusement in her voice. She knew that there had been history- bad history- behind their nations, but everyone had bad history with everyone. She doubted it would make the two hate each other. While she was still a bit upset having to marry this man, she would at least keep the facade up long enough to please her parents and everyone else who was involved in this awful arrangement.[/fieldbox][fieldbox="Faraj Madaki, #845422, solid, 0, Viner Hand ITC"]Faraj stopped eating, setting his plate down on the table nearby. He smiled kindly at Rosaline. "It is good to meet you princess. Yes, I am Faraj. You are very stunning." He told her, looking her over. He honestly wasn't expecting a pretty girl. He was expecting average, at most. But, she was surprisingly gorgeous. He gestured to the food. "Could I get you something to eat or drink?" He asked.

Yes, she would definitely do nicely for continuing the Madaki line. He could only hope that it was common to have boys in her family, so they could have many fine sons. However, as he had told himself before, he would also be okay with some daughters. "This place is very... green outside." He added, attempting to make some small talk. [/fieldbox][fieldbox="Adelaide Lovett, #999cd8, dotted, 20, Harrington"]Deciding to finally try and be friendly and not be a shy mess, Adelaide decided to talk with someone. She saw one man, drinking wine from the table. He looked a bit rugged, but not really scary. Definitely northern. She slowly approached, smiling kindly. "Hello." She said to him, giving a small curtsy. "I'm Princess Adelaide Lovett of Sagewynn. Very nice to meet you." She said, appearing quite calm. She felt like she was going to cause an earthquake with how much she was shaking, but to an observer, she looked perfectly normal.

"My fiancee has yet to arrive." She explained. "So I was hoping to find some companionship in you. Perhaps share stories of our homes?"
@Kythera[/fieldbox]

 

[Kythera]

@.♥Δ♥.LYDIA.♥Δ♥.
[fieldbox="Brita Erlik, Turquoise, solid, 10"]Brita's mouth twisted wryly as the prince kissed her hand. It was a quaint gesture, and she supposed he was being polite, but it almost made her giggle, as accustomed as she was to being treated as a warrior first and a woman... maybe third. Or fourth. She choked back the laugh, trying to tell herself it was no bad thing to receive a little chivalry now and then.

"Yes, it's a sapphire," she said, her hand drifting automatically to the gem, twirling it absently in her small fingers. "One of the largest ever found in Fulor. My people are renowned for our mines and jewelry, you know." She squinted her eyes up at him, trying to recall what the textbooks her tutor had been forever forcing in front of her said of Orinthal. Snow, that was all she could remember. Lots of snow. Well, that was no hardship, she was used to snow and cold, in fact she quite liked it. After a day of hunting through mountain forests, to snuggle up by the great fireplace under a pile of furs and watch the white flakes piling up was a pleasure she could never get enough of.

"Have you wolves in Orinthal?" she asked suddenly, her thoughts having wandered far from her necklace. "We had a beautiful pack, outside Morburn. I used to love hunting with them in the winters. But they migrated away last winter," she added, with a forlorn little smile. "Dogs!" she exclaimed, jabbing a finger toward the prince. "You have dogs in Orinthal, no?" The image of sled dogs racing through the snow had popped into her head as she thought of the wolves of Fulor. That was what the textbooks had said about Orinthal, she was almost sure of it. Almost.[/fieldbox]


@Tarieles
[fieldbox="Torkal Erlik, orange, solid, 10"]Torkal's deep brown eyes followed his twin as she crossed the room to introduce herself to her betrothed. She was so confident, so bold. Sometimes he wished he could be so fearless. It wasn't that he was afraid, precisely; he just hated people ranting and yelling at him. It was all so pointless. No one even understood him, besides Brita. Well, not that she really understood, but at least she tried. No one else Fulor did. It was like he was a changeling, dropped in by mistake by a wicked fairy. That's what his father, thought, anyway. No proper prince of Fulor would be so pacifistic, so learned, so weak.

As he was lost in thought, a dark woman, a little shorter than himself, approached and introduced herself. He blinked down at her, a bit perplexed, but after a moment gathered himself to bow politely. "But of course, Princess. I am Prince Torkal Erlik of Fulor. A pleasure to meet you." He looked her over, musing to himself for a moment. She seemed rather shy, or nervous, perhaps both. Well, that in itself was a nice change. "Sagewynne," he murmured, rubbing his smooth chin. He had yet to be able to grow more than a fluffy shadow, much to his father's dismay. But at least he looked clean-shaven now. "Your people are quite learned, are they not? I have read much of the mysticism of Elvestre-Til. Will you tell me about it?" He gave her a sweet, inviting smile, reinforcing the sincerity of his words. Unlike his twin, Torkal was always genuinely interested in learning more, and Sagewynne in particular had always held a lure for him. A people who were defined by intellectualism would be a welcome change from his own war-like home... besides the fact that they were noted for their wine.[/fieldbox]

 

[lxngdon]

Rosaline blushed when Faraj complimented her beauty. She was no stranger to compliments but, being the modest girl she was, they always surprised her. "Thank you, sir," she said, smiling. "You are quite handsome yourself."

She reached for a golden goblet from the table and sipped the rich wine it contained. "Yes, very green," she agreed, glancing out the window before looking back at Faraj. "Quvania is mostly desert, of course, so I am not accustomed to such lush environments. Do tell me please, Faraj, what is your country like? I am afraid to say I do not know much of Asharia."
​

"Naya," Apollo repeated softly. "I quite like that. A very beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

Apollo smiled. He could compliment the Lysorian princess as much as she wanted him to, but he was determined to actually know something about Naya before they were married. He wondered what she was like, personality-wise. How would she rule? Would she make an agreeable queen?

"So, how are you finding the accomodations, Princess?" he asked her.

Aris nodded, smiling as she remembered a piece of trivia about his home country. "Yes, we do have dogs. We are known for them," he confirmed, nodding again. "In fact, I myself have a wolf-husky hybrid named Mischa. She is a magnificent creature. She was a sled dog when I was a child. She would pull myself and my sisters around in the snow for hours, until she grew old. Now she resides in my room for most of the time."

Aris smiled a little as he remembered his childhood, with Mischa pulling himself, Jacinta and Harmony on their little sled in the snow. "We're also known for bows and arrows," continued the white-haired prince, "and fishing, though I don't care too much for seafood as it has grown rather tiresome. I heard those from Fulor hate it, so we may have something in common there."​

"But of course, Princess," said James. He took Rosalie's hand and kissed it gently. "How are you? I hope your journey was pleasant."

James was delighted to have finally met his betrothed. He noticed the piece she wore in her hair. "That is beautiful," he commented. "Not anywhere near as beautiful as you are, of course."

 

[Tarieles]

[fieldbox="Nayyirah-Anadil, #a92121, dashed, 10, Vladimir Script"]Naya feigned a smile his way, looking around. "Well, it is no Lysorian feast, but it will do. I must be forgiving of the customs, after all." She said, grabbing a glass of wine from a passing waiter. It was a deep red. "We do not have wines like this, however. Ours are much too sweet. These dry wines are much more palatable." She told him, taking a sip.

"And how are you faring, Apollo?" She felt strange, using his first name like that, but they were engaged after all. She would need to get used to it. "How do things here compare to your own home?"[/fieldbox][fieldbox="Faraj Madaki, #845422, solid, 0, Viner Hand ITC"]Faraj's eyes seemed to light up as she asked about Asharia. His country was a source of pride to the young warrior. "Asharia is flat, as far as the eye can see. The grasses there are either dry, lush, or on fire. It is a hard place to live, not like this land. However, many animals roam the plains, making food plentiful." He paused, nodding to a few servants passing by. "It is good for growing short lived crops. But my people are nomadic, so crops are often traded for."

Faraj loved his country. He wanted to make it better, but his father wasn't letting that happen. "And you? What is Quvania like? I only know the things I was taught as a child."[/fieldbox][fieldbox="Adelaide Lovett, #999cd8, dotted, 20, Harrington"]"Of course." Adelaide spoke, smiling softly at the mountain man. "We are a very scholarly folk. We value knowledge over all things. Of course, many people do not like that we have turned from Voienism. However, many of us can still appreciate the religion as a way of thought, such as myself." She then laughed a bit. "Of course, that does not get us out of some riots of the deeply religious people." She told him, still feeling extremely nervous. She always spoke too much when nervous.

"We have large libraries, some rivaling that of Senegha's great library. However, we do lack the rare books and artefacts that they have procured, which is a shame." She shook her head a bit. She was also wondering why such a man as the Prince of Fulor would be interested in Sagewynn. They were intellectuals, and Fulor were brutes. Generally. She did notice that he did not have the look of a fighter. "If you are interested in some of the books we have to offer, I brought some with me to keep me occupied. You may have a look at them later, if you wish."[/fieldbox][fieldbox="Felicity Davenport, #339966, solid, 10, Georgia"]Felicity was practically bouncing by the time the city came into view. "What do you think it will be like, Maria?" She asked her lady in waiting. The slightly older woman chuckled. "Probably like Treolei. They are very similar." She told the young girl. As the carriage pulled up to the castle, Felicity excitedly hopped out, twirling in the fresh air. "Come Maria!" She called, rushing to the castle. She hurried through the doors, and made her way into the main ballroom. She gasped, seeing all of the faces from different cultures. So many obviously different people, and yet they were all the same. She regained her air of royalty, and made her way into the fray, to some food and wine. She was starved.

She took some wine, some she could only assume was sweet, and she was right. She happily sipped it and snacked on some seafood treats that were laid out. Seafood was a rare thing for the girl. She glanced around, feeling dwarfed by all of these people. She felt so tiny.[/fieldbox][fieldbox="Quinten Savoy, #87cefa, dashed, 20, Lucida Handwriting Italic"]Having had enough wine, Quin put down his glass, so he didn't end up drunk before he met his new wife. Speaking of, where was she? He had a sinking feeling that maybe they got ambushed by bandits, and the next day they would hear that the poor Princess of Melekur and her guard were found dead on the road. He shook his head, keeping those thoughts at bay. However, he couldn't help but worry. It felt strange to him. He didn't even know this woman, but he felt worried for her.

He was brought away from his thoughts as the doors above the ballroom opened, and the King of Bellmere stepped out, with his Queen by his side. An announcer stood at the edge, clearing his throat loudly. "Presenting His Royal Highness, King Cuthbert Bavent of Bellmere, and the Queen Gabriella Bavent of Bellmere."[/fieldbox]

The King and Queen of Bellmere were definitely dressed for the occasion, covered in beautiful jewels and rich linens and silks. They looked kindly, and definitely deserved respect. The people in the ballroom bowed to the couple. "Welcome to my castle!" King Cuthbert announced loudly. "I hope you will all make yourself at home here. Your parents have entrusted me with your safety, and I intend to keep you safe to the best of my ability. Now, we all know why you're here. Your parents couldn't stop killing each other." He seemed a little bitter at this, but it quickly faded. "But, now you're here to fix it." He raised his glass with a wide, happy smile. "A toast! For better or for worse. Til death do you part." He drank, and gave his servants the cup.

"Now, we have received word that some of you will be late, due to certain circumstances. The Princess of Melekur, the Prince of Kerrigen, and the Prince of Janholt. They should be here by the evening, so you lovebirds just sit tight. They'll be here soon enough." He laughed heartily. "Now, have some fun, but keep things respectable." He turned to the door, and returned to his quarters, leaving the rest of the royals to their own devices.

 

[Emi]

[fieldbox="Rosalie Adam, #708c6d, dashed, 15, Vivaldi"]

Mood: Excited, Nervous, Annoyed ll Interaction: James ll #708c6d
@.♥Δ♥.LYDIA.♥Δ♥.
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The smallest of blushes crept on her cheeks as he complimented her beauty. Rosalie knew she was an attractive girl, however, she was not one for flaunting it. In fact, most of the time, she was in worker pants and shirt exploring the swamps while her hair was up in braids. Denice smiled slightly, at least she was with a prince with manor's, she thought and slightly elbowed Rosa. Rosa responded by slightly rolling her eyes and gave a bright smile, a smile that could light up a room if you let it. "Why thank you Prince James, you are very handsome as well," her voice was slightly silky in a flirtatious manor, "My trip was decent enough, I hope your trip was also not to long."

[/fieldbox]

 

[Kythera]

[fieldbox="Brita Erlik, Turquoise, solid, 10"]Brita's dark eyes lit up at the mention of his wolf-husky pet. "Oh, excellent! I must have one as well. I don't know about the sled thing, though... I supposed that's how you get around in the flatlands, is it?" She pursed her lip, still twirling her sapphire necklace in hypnotic circles. "Well, I'm sure I'll get used to it," she shrugged. Sleds would be ridiculous in the mountains; chances are you would just go flying over a cliff if you tried to ride one there. A giggle escaped from her at the thought, and she ducked her head and quickly put a hand to her mouth. Flicking a glance up at her betrothed through her long lashes, she thought that perhaps this would not be so bad after all. He had snow and wolves... what else did she need?

That idea lasted all of five seconds. "Fish? Urgh! How horrid. Well, I don't know if everyone hates it back home, but Torkal and I certainly do. It's hard to find fish in the mountains, you see. We mostly eat game and goat. I'm partial to venison, myself," she added with a grin. "But I don't normally hunt with a bow. I'm best with axe and sword," she mused, tapping a finger on her lower lip. "I could say it's because of all the hills and trees, but the truth is I haven't got the best long-distance eyesight!" she confided, with startling honesty. Brita was never one to confess her flaws, particularly to strangers. But she supposed if they were really going to make this marriage thing work they ought to start out with as much truth as possible. She braced herself, but turned toward Aris expectantly, hoping that he would reciprocate her vulnerability. Being out on a limb by herself was a most uncomfortable position for Brita. If only he would come out and join her she might feel more secure.[/fieldbox]
@.♥Δ♥.LYDIA.♥Δ♥.

[fieldbox="Torkal Erlik, orange, solid, 10"]A half smile flickered on Torkal's usually staid face as he looked down at the princess. Now why could not this one have been his betrothed? They seemed to have so much in common. He only hoped his own fiancee would be similar. "I can understand. I, too, value knowledge above other pursuits. It is not so in my kingdom, though, I'm afraid. Perhaps I should have been born in yours," he said, the lopsided smile still twitching on his mouth. It was said as a joke, but it was anything but funny to Torkal. He suppressed a sigh, thinking about the torments of his childhood in the warlike kingdom of Fulor. His father's idea of a library was a few picture books on different kinds of weaponry. It sounded like Adelaide would have many books he had never even seen before. He was not sure if it was appropriate for him to be accepting such an offer from another princess than his betrothed, but he could not resist. "I would love to see them, thank you," he replied with a bow.

When he looked back up he noticed that another princess had entered the room, and was currently scrounging around the buffet as if she had not eaten in weeks. She was a tiny little thing, and looked like she would break if someone only touched her too hard. Torkal was about to introduce himself, since she was standing so near them, but then the girl chose to pick up some seafood and shove it in her delicate little mouth. Torkal could not quite keep himself from grimacing, and turned back to Adelaide before the new princess could see. "Who is it you are betrothed to, Princess, if you don't mind my asking?"[/fieldbox]
@Tarieles

 

[Pasi]

Naila Ghadah Samira


Her long legs draped over the edge of the chair she sat her. Persian sat in her lap, purring and kneeding her lap. She let out a exasperated sigh. She couldn't believe she was here, and that this was happening. Naila had been in her room pretty much since the day she arrived. The servants she had brought with her had been ordered to help out the other royals throughout the Castle. Persian nudged her hand and she gave him a chuckle as she scratched his head, "Aye, I know my dear, it's not home. That is for sure." she said, as a log broke in the fire, and the poor cat jumped straight in the air, landing on his feet. Looking to the fire with a death look, as he weaved his way around her feet, that had now found their way to the floor, he leaned against them. "I suppose I should go and get dressed hmm?" the cat looked at her, as if acknowledging what she was saying, and jumped on the small satin pillow that was on her bed for him. He perched there as she went about getting dressed. Sighing lightly, she opened a small container,and scooped out the contents of it onto a porcelain saucer, and clinked the side of it. His tail flicking as he raced over to the saucer and started to eat, pouring some water into the dish next to him, she scratched his hind end, as she took one final look in the mirror and then made her way out the door to see who had arrived.
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[Tarieles]

[fieldbox="Adelaide Lovett, #999cd8, dotted, 20, Harrington"]Adelaide smiled a bit. "Yes, I have heard not many of your kingdom appreciate the finer arts. I myself can only hope my husband will appreciate written works. And of course, you are most welcome to look at the works I have with me. I am always excited to educate people in things they may not have access to." She said, her eyes following his to a young girl who had arrived. A princess, obviously. She looked as if she was no older than 13. Perhaps one of the other royals had brought their sister? She wasn't outright staring at the girl, just casting glances. How was one so young allowed here? She was torn from her thoughts as her current conversation resumed.

Adelaide quickly looked back at Torkal, shaking her head. "Of course not. I am to be wed to the Prince of Kerrigen. From what I understand, they are very secretive. Fulor is located by Kerrigen, do you know anything of them?" She knew Kerrigen was the product of Fulor's rain shadow, but she knew little else of the country.[/fieldbox][fieldbox="Quinten Savoy, #87cefa, dashed, 20, Lucida Handwriting Italic"]The feel of dread was quelling now that Quinten heard that they had sent word that they were going to be late. Good, he hadn't come for no reason, and he didn't need to concern himself with the death of his fiancee. He would almost certainly be required to attend the funeral, despite never knowing her. Now he only had to find someone else to speak with. It seemed everyone had already found their respective betrothed, which meant it would be rude to interrupt. He sighed, resigning himself to drinking his wine, when he found someone he would likely be able to at least introduce himself to. He approached the lovely woman with the dark hair. "Greetings." He bowed. "I am Prince Quinten Savoy. Charmed." He kissed her hand gently, smiling kindly at her. "May I have the honor of making your acquaintance?"
@Pasiphae [/fieldbox][fieldbox="Felicity Davenport, #339966, solid, 10, Georgia"]Felicity finished feeding from the tables, assuming there would be a large meal later on. She finished her glass of wine, and placed it on a tray of a waiter, who was kind enough to dip down for her to reach. She blushed a bit, embarrassed that she was so short, and turned to see two people near her. She heard the woman mention Fulor to the man. She was supposed to marry the Prince of Fulor. Perhaps that was him? Deciding to find out, the small woman approached with a confident posture, and curtsied as she reached them. "Good afternoon to you. My name is Felicity Davenport, Princess of Treolei. I am sorry, but I heard you mention the Prince of Fulor. Are you the prince?" She asked the larger man. He was at least a half head taller than her, if not more.[/fieldbox]

 

[Pasi]

She had arrived a bit earlier then she had expected, it seemed that the day of arrival had been changed on her,but she seemed to have been allowed to come and make a room earlier then most. This wasn't her idea, and well, it was rather bothersome. She had let Persian in the room, and started to make her way through the castle. Nearly getting run over by a maid chasing a dog. Her sea foam eyes flickering a bit of laughter, as she shook raven head. Most of all the Royals had been talking and getting to know one another. Perhaps she shouldn't have have stayed in her room for as long as she did. But she wasn't sure if the man she was suppose to marry was even about. But as a man with blond hair came to her, she had to admit he was rather handsome, and perhaps she would get lucky and this would be hers. She would give him a smile, and would place a finger to her lip, nibbling on her nail, "The pleasure is mine... Prince Quinten Savoy,@Tarieles my name is Princess Naila Ghadah Samira."Offering him her hand, as she met his eyes.​