[fieldbox="Léonie de Valroque; The Unsung Song, Darkmagenta, solid, 10, times"]
A violent dream had disturbed her sleep that night. She had dreamed it before, and she was certain, despicably certain, that she would dream it again. After calming down, after assaulting her face with ice-cold water, the young Duchess Leonie de Valroque stood at her window, clutching a necklace tightly in her hand. She watched the sky lighten as the sun rose, shrouded in the same grey clouds that had reigned the skies for the past few days. This overcast weather was typical for the season. And yet... and yet it felt different. Her dark, tired eyes flicked to the white spires of the Grand Cathedral, one of the most commanding buildings in Val Royeaux. Faintly, she could hear the Chant being recited. It was somewhat reassuring; at least some things could stay constant, despite all else. Then, slowly and hesitantly, she settled her gaze on the imposing, arresting Imperial Palace.
No. The thought sat firm in her mind, she tried forcing it to take root.
I will not think of it.
And yet she couldn't help it. Was it a mere trick of the light, then, that made the sky seem that much darker over the Palace? The grey seemed to fade into a stormy, almost purple color. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her breathing at rhythm. Ah-- there, there. The color was fading, back to grey. A trick of the light, that was all.
These thoughts had no use, they were not helpful. If anything was truly wrong, Leonie was certain that her father would have done something about it. He would have heard something about it. He would have told her.
So, it must not be a real problem. It must just be her.
A few hours later, after calming herself, washing up, and getting dressed, Léonie made her way to the breakfast room. The Dukes of de Valroque's lived in a lovely
maison de ville, prestigiously situated near the Avenue of the Sun. On brighter days, the sun shone charmingly through the stained glass ceiling, patterned with their family crest. Today, to Leonie, it just seemed oppressive. But that impression might have been influenced by Duchess Beatrice's thin-lipped expression, which Leonie noticed immediately upon entering. She chose to ignore it, though she knew it couldn't bode well.
"Good morning, father." She approached Francis de Valroque and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Mother." No kiss for the Duchess, who sat stiffly on the other end of the table across from the family patriarch. She was a proud woman, with restless grey eyes. They scanned Léonie's outfit critically. Her daughter was practically dripping with gold and jewels; several necklaces, bracelets, and a ring on practically every finger. As it should be. Léonie took a seat at her father's right hand.
"Have Hughes and Etienne already eaten?"
"Yes, and they have already left. You have overslept, Leonie."
"My apologies, mother."
"Oh, come now, Bea. Leonie, Hughes already left for the palace," Francis replied, finishing his Antivan spiced coffee in one long sip.
"I'll be joining him shortly. We've received word that a few Grey Wardens are coming to Val Royeaux. I believe Hughes will be among those who receive them."
"A... Wardens? Why are they coming? Is there something wrong?" Her voice and face were, as always, unexpressive. But Leonie could feel her heart beating faster as she uttered those words.
Beatrice tutted, stirring sugar into her coffee.
"Why do you always jump to such negative conclusions? The Wardens have no power anymore, hardly anyone pays them any mind. It's a visit to make sure no one forgets about them, despite their irrelevance."
Francis
mmmed noncommittally, and Leonie didn't comment —she seemed focused on her toast and jam.
"Well then, I'm off!" Francis stood, dropping his napkin on his chair.
"Cherie," he kissed the top of Leonie's dark hair, then gave his wife a peck on the cheek.
"I'll be at the Palace all day, and night, presumably. There's a masquerade tonight, to welcome the Wardens. 'Despite their irrelevance.' I will see you beauties there later."
"Masquerade..." she echoed the word apparently unthinking.
"Yes, and a big one at that. Even lowest houses have been invited." He made a comment about a family that had been unexpectedly invited, and Beatrice was quick to offer her opinion of them, but Leonie's mind was elsewhere. She inadvertently interrupted her mother mid-sentence.
"Father?… The Grey Warden symbol is a griffon, is it not?"
"Indeed, I believe they used to ride them into battle, a long time ago." His daughter nodded somberly at this information, staring intensely into her cup of tea, thinking of her dreams.
Francis left, and Beatrice and Leonie sat in thick, unyielding silence. The clock ticked on the mantle, delineating each seconds. Leonie was not perturbed by this. It was not unusual.
As always, Beatrice broke the silence.
"You are meeting with Ser Absalom today, are you not?"
"Yes," Leonie replied, immediately adding,
"Later. I wanted to meet 'Tienne first, after his lessons. He mentioned he needed to go to the royal library today for some books. I thought I could go with him."
Beatrice bristled slightly.
"Just let Hughes do that."
"Hughes will be busy, presumably, with the foreign guests--"
"Francis can, then."
"Presumably--"
"I will take Etienne. No need for you to go, Leonie. No need."
She sat in measured silence for a moment or two, breathing deeply. "... Don't you have to attend Madame Lascelle's salon today, mother? Isn't it a weekly gathering? She might think it impolite--"
"He can surely go to the library alone, Leonie!" Beatrice's voice had taken on that slightly higher pitch that seemed to be reserved only for her dark-haired daughter.
Leonie sat in silence yet again, still staring stony-faced into her hot drink.
"... Very well, mother. May I be excused?"
Meal times were always uncomfortable when they were left alone, but no topic was as contentious as talk of Etienne. Beatrice liked keeping the youngest de Valroque away from his sister.
"Be on your best behavior with Ser Absalom, Leonie. The Villeforts are a powerful family. It would be an excellent match for us."
"Yes, mother, I will be." She left the breakfast room meek as a lamb and silent as a ghost. But she had no intention of paying Absalom a visit, and every intention of meeting her younger brother near the university gates, where they could walk to the Palace together. After a quick trip to the kitchen for a sweet roll, which she wrapped in a cloth napkin, she donned her mask and stepped out onto the city streets. Though completely undetectable from her speech and expressions and mannerisms, a feeling of deep unease still pressed on her heart.[/fieldbox]