The Importance of Curses and Life

[Saint Tribs]

The Happenings of the Castle Tempest that lead to the Birth of Celeres Tempest, Son of Garvan and Lady Yvaine. ... And all the trouble that happened Afterwards.

The castle was in most ways very normal, there was the usual hidden passages and a large dungeon that was probably full of unsavory people. Rough gray stone built to stand the test of time and it did because it was still standing and had been standing and would stand for another thousand years.

The Kingdom itself was well sized, not too big nor too small but it occupied a prime bit of coast and plains and was wealthy enough to be envied by other Kingdoms. There had been peace though for at the most twenty five summers, the King knew because he counted every year and every line on his face and every new gray hair that appeared. He knew because he counted every mile stone in a certain boy's life and because he watched the boy's Mother age like he did.

The brother of the King was Garvan and the King was Eligius and the King was the eldest but he never married while Garvan did marry. Gavan married a lovely woman who he adored and who adored him. They were happy and once she was pregnant they were even happier but it wasn't meant to be. The pregnancy was false and now with a crib in the room it was a constant reminder of what they couldn't have.

They tried and tried and prayed and begged and pleaded with all the gods and Garvan went to war over and over again trying to make himself into the sort of person the gods would smile on, take pity on and give him a son.

Garvan finally decided to go to his brother, Eligius the King and beg and plead that he lay with his Wife. The King didn't agree at first but after months of pressure and war looming on the horizon and Garvan having to leave again the King agreed and he laid with Garvan's Lady. Garvan went off to war, not knowing his Wife was pregnant with his brother's child but hoping she was. He didn't come home from the battle and he never received the message that told of his Lady Wife bringing forth his son into the world.

Celeres was brought into the world with all the usual ways and was raised with all the usual things befitting the King's Nephew. At least until someone commented that the King doted on the boy like he was his very own son when Cel was five years of age. From then on the King treated Cel kindly but coldly, he didn't show him the love or attention previously as he was trying to keep his Brother's Memory and the Lady's honor pure.

***





​

It was a usual day in the Kingdom and Celeres was up with the sunrise. It peaked over the high mountains to the East and cast the kingdom in it's golden glows and made the dark stone of the castle gleam with the dew the night had left on it. For Celeres it was the most beautiful time of the day. People were rising and the noise had just started but hadn't hit their peak yet. Preparations for the day when it was full of mystery and promise and not things like Court and manners and bowing, oh the bowing!

Celeres could look out the window and watch the sun rise into the heavens and for a little while he could, he thought to himself, himself. He stroked his neatly cut little beard and in the wavy and pitted mirror that he refused to let them replace, he'd shave. Not too much, not too little. He was rather dashing. Or he would be if only he could rid of those freckles! With wavy hair the darkest brown and then the freckles, as far as Celeres was concerned it was no wonder the ladies didn't care for him. He was average and ordinary. Of all things for a potential Prince to be! Not that Celeres was very interested in that either, mind you.

No. Celeres much preferred hawking and hunting and riding and he liked the art of combat though he knew that perhaps he wasn't the best. He got special favors, being the heir apparent and every day that went by Celeres wished the King would take a Wife and produce a Male child! Anyone but him! Then perhaps his teachers would stop not trying to hit, then his teachers would treat him like a person and stop being afraid of training him.

It wasn't like the King even really cared.

At least there was a jousting Tourny that day, Celeres could go watch. Perhaps, just perhaps he could convince a certain Fair Lady to go with him. With that thought in mind, even the onset of the day and the end of the morning had the Prince excited. He dressed in usual attire, a fine linen shirt and a leather vest and the cotton trousers he preferred and scuffed pair of knee high brown boots that matched his vest and he was off. Up and away before anyone could get a hold of him. He'd been getting better at it over the years; the art of the clean getaway.

One apple (stolen from the kitchen!) in his mouth and one rose (stolen from the King's gardens!) in his hands and a purse full of coin (his own, surprisingly enough), Celeres was off to make a social visit.

 

[Ochalla]

Racquel was not an early riser, to the lament to those that server her family. The requirements from her were very light and she often she would find ways to entertain herself well into the evening. Yet obligations and traditions were abound and every morning at the same time the maid came in to open her drapes and set out her cloths for the day. It could have been worse of course, but every morning Racquel groaned as the light hit her eyes. At she wanted was another five minutes to continue her dreams.

Once the morning battle was lost, she would dress and groom and then go down to sit with her family. They were once more in the capital city, so Racquel's normal escapes were not available to her. There would be no running into the woods, or talking to the family priest about medicine, and most definitely there would not be any weapons practice. These were not suitable actifpvities for a lady of marriageable age.

Still they could not force her to take up needlework, and she would never sing like a song bird, and if she could remember the title of every single petty functioner that was at the castle, so what? After breakfast concluded, Racquel went out to the garden, a basket in hand with a book as well as clippers. Some fresh flowers were needed in her room as well as the sitting room.

As she navigated the garden she hummed to herself, carefully picking out flowers one at a time with an eye for color and a nose for fragrance. She wanted something light and uplifting. Suddenly she was no longer alone. "Who's there?" she demanded, turning, the clippers in one hand a large yellow daisy in the other.

 

[Vay]

No feast before the tournament? Only one afterwards? The king was going mad (according to his knights) so Antony.. Lord Anterius Septor as his proper name went had arranged for fiv3e barrels of mead to be bought from a tavern and brought up to the barracks. His name was cheered, the men-at-arms and castle guard heard the noise and were invited to join, Anthony was cheered and then the armed men promptly proceeded to get drunk and many a friendly punch up was had. Still the royal guard was waking up with a hangover, not the worst he had ever had but bad enough so that when his attendant came to him with news of the dawn he sent him to the apothecary for a cure and hid his face in hos pillow.. no it wasn't his pillow, he had never mace it out of the barracks.. SHI...

He was on his feet and stumbling over the floor paved with the unconcious bodies of men in uniform as he pulled his tabard over himself and headed for castle. The cure met him on the way and he drank it and sent the boy for more. He needed to be cleaned up and armored and already the servants were waiting for sponges and oils. One look at him and they knew what he had been up to. "Drinking with the knights again Your lordship?" the soft voice cam as he was undressed and pushed into a bath. "Only a few tankards.. The king decided to only have the feast after the tournament so we decided to have one of our own. There may be a knight or two forfeiting but it better than grumbling at the king."

Really he had done it to hear their stories about riding out into the kingdom and slaying demon, rescuing damsels (though if they rescued so many why were none of them married?) and claiming glory for the king. And it was on these stories he reflected as he was bathed and dried and his hair perfumed and brushed and he was dressed and armored. It wasn't the well polished and decorated suit of armor, that was in his tent at the jousting lists, the first tournament of the day was the sword, and so the only think marking him as a guard of the king was the shape of his helmet, even is is was made of dull iron. There was no glory or fame to be won by the sword like there was with the lance, but Anthony always entered all three. Sword, lance, and bow.

 

[Saint Tribs]

Celeres held his hands up with a grin as he stepped out from behind the bushes and winked at her. The half eaten apple was held in one hand and the rose, blood red in the other. "It's just me, Lady Racquel. I thought I'd come and see you for a moment." He lowered his hands, taking a bite out of the apple with a cheeky grin. "And somewhere along the lines I found this rose." Celeres couldn't help but to tease as he placed the rose into her basket.

The garden was beautiful and well tended, it was simple compared to the King's gardens but Celeres enjoyed his time there. Or rather anywhere that wasn't under the King's disapproving eye. Celeres turned his head as a trumpet sounded, people were probably heading to the jousting arena. There was a pang of longing that he'd never be able to do something like that but he shook it off and focused once again on Racquel.

"You are going to the Joust, aren't you? It's quite a thing really and I was wondering if you'd allow me to escort you?" Celeres couldn't help but to be hopeful that Racquel would agree with him. "I can introduce you to some of the Knights?" He offered. Ladies liked Knights, he wasn't sure where Racquel's interest lay in the case though. She was a woman, so she probably liked Knights and shiny armor. Still, she'd be going with him... right?

Which meant that maybe the Knight's would be kind and not try to woo her away?

Celeres wasn't holding his breath.

 

[Ochalla]

"Oh, Celeres!" Racquel exclaimed in some surprise, quickly moving the clippers down. Threatening the king's nephew could seriously get her in trouble, even if it was all an honest mistake. No one was there to notice her slight indiscretion so other then her own embarrassment, cheeks flushed, there was no harm that had been had.

Placing the clippers back into the basket she took the rose that Celeres placed there and inhaled the fragrance. That he found his way to her garden surprised her a bit, though at this point it shouldn't have. There had been hints before that he was trying to court her. For Racquel's part she had not encouraged the behavior, but admittedly had not discouraged him one bit either. She enjoyed Celeres company, but the thought of him as being anything other then a companion, a friend, could not be forced. There were worse things she well knew, but he didn't cause that spark in her.

"The jousting?" Racquel did not think much of jousting, but the other events were very interesting to her. In fact she had in her mind some plans that after noon when the archery competition would begin. "I would very much enjoy going with you, but I may no be able to attend all the events with you. Will that be alright?"

As they walked down the garden, in the direction of the gate, Racquel's mother, the Dutchess Gryffon came out of a side path. "Ah, your highness, off to steal away my daughter for the day?" The Dutchess of course had no issue with a man in such a position as Celeres to be courting her daughter. It was after all politically advantages not just for their family, but also meant a secure future for her daughter. "Let me take that basket from you dear. Now go along children, have fun."

 

[Vay]

Arms spread he was strapped into her plain armor and handed his helmet which he held as his sword was strapped to his back. It was not a sword hit for battle, that would kill his opponent, instead it was a blunt slab of metal as long as from the tips of his fingers to the opposite shoulder. "Who wil I be facing first?" he asked as they began trooping from his chamber to the sword arena. "Sir Guy of Eksby." the squire said hurrying after him with the griffon banner of Arthur's family. "A common born.. I'd better be on my toes, hes a good fighter, when he can get you in the sight of his good eye.. alright once we're there place the banner and make sure my horse's mane is properly brushed and.."

He was interrupted by the arrival of another hangover cure which he drank and then they were in the courtyard shading for the gates to the arena. "And make sure I won't run out of lances this time and that they're made of something better than bulsa wood." he stopped at the gate into the arena as he waited to be announced hulling his helmet on as his banner was placed where it was visible to the crowd and the king took his seat. Of course he'd be here... right any mistakes and he could be looking at a shaming.... any minute now....

 

[Saint Tribs]

The Heir-Apparent had nodded. "Of course Racquel." Though he raised a brow, wondering what she was up to that she wouldn't be able to stay for all the games. Perhaps she had a lover in the wings? Well, she was pretty and well thought of by all and from a good house and ... Celeres tried to get his head back to the correct train of thought.

So it made perfect sense that her Mother would take that time to appear. Of course. Celeres bowed to the Lady of the House of Gryffon with a smile. "With your permission of course, Madam." He straightened up, his wavy hair spilling over his shoulders for a moment. "Thank you." Another smile and he looped his arm through Racquel's and was quickly walking her out of the garden.

"Your goodly Mother has mental powers that can always seem to locate me when I come to call upon you, doesn't she?" He chuckled softly as he attempted to lead Racquel to the tourny. At the very least for the most part the people did sort of part when they saw him coming. It wasn't a wide path of course but it was something and he and Racquel had an easy time of it to get to the tourny.

"Would you like to sit in my box? Perhaps you would rather the stands?" Though being in his box at the very least might dissuade her from giving out kerchiefs to whatever Knight she favored. Assuming she favored one.

Celeres knew he was doing a great deal of assuming but...

"It's about to start! The King is going to make his Speech. We should sit."

 

[Ochalla]

Racquel was half convinced her mother had servants waiting for Celeres arrival with orders to immediately in form her of his arrival, for he was correct, her mother did always seem to find her way to say hello when he came a'calling. It was perhaps not so unexpected, but it would have been nice if just once her mother didn't show up. Racquel always felt pressured with the looks she was given.

The walk was pleasent, and while there were many people about to, they were able to make their way without pause of fuss. There was advantages to being a royal guest. At Celeres inqury as to where she would like to sit, she looked at him in surprise. She had assumed they would sit in the royal box as a matter of course. That they could do either gave her pause to consider the advantages. Not that she would be as silly as to flirt with every knight that passed by. That would have been unkind to Celeres. In honestly though she hadn't given much thought to who might be jousting today.

The decision was taken out of both their hands when she heard a trumpet. The king was about to speak. Quickly they both found an empty spot in the stands to sit for the time being. There was a lot of people moving around and Racquel kept close to Celeres so she wouldn't be bumped around too much. Once seated she looked at Celeres, the rose close to her lips under her nose.

 

[Saint Tribs]

"Sorry about not getting us to the box in time." Celeres gave her a little smile as he sat down with her on the bench. Oh my. She was sniffing the rose and her lips... He wondered what was softer, her lips or the rose petals? It didn't matter for what Celeres would give to be someone that Racquel held close to her! The trumpet sounded again and Celeres forced his attention back to the tourny.

The King stood up and took a pace forward and raised his hands, giving a smile to his people. King Eligius waited on the stands to quiet themselves until only the noisy breathing of the horses could be heard. "Welcome to the Mid-Summer Tournament!" He bellowed, sounding rather pleased with things as his people gave a cheer. "There will be three separate events today- Trial by Sword!" Another cheer. "Trial by Archery!" A slightly less loud cheer. "And last but not least, Trial by the Lance! Jousting!" Now that had the people shouting and stomping and clapping and cheering without thoughts in their head.

Eligius's eyes never wandered over to his errant and estranged son. They stayed on the groups of Knight's roaming about.

"Let the Tournament begin!"

 

[Vay]

The gate clattered up and on either side of the sandy arena floor two big him with big swords entered, helmets on and visors down. Each raised a hand when their names were announced, but of was no the joust, the cheeres were a bit on the apathetic side. The crowd however clearly favored the common born Guy over the noble waster Lord Anterius Septor. Guy however had earned his title on the battlefield and payed for it dearly and as he and arthur squared off, to honor a questing knight of many years veteran Arthur let Guy have first swing, his sword tip buried in the sand, and Guy struck him a blow in his shoulder, a modest score of points yet not the match was on.

Arthur brought his sword up and started circling to the right, making Guy turn his head to keep with good eye on him. Then there was a swing and a parry. Another swing and Arthur sidestepped driving his sword into Guy's breastplate. The flag with up and score was tallied, the two readied and the dance began anew. Guy swung and Arthur, blocked, Guy swung again and the young guard rolled tot he side and struck a blow to his back. Guy was just too slow and as the sand ran out no more score had been earned.. Arthur's skewed sense of honor not allowing him to beat the veteran but more than one blow.

 

[Ochalla]

Racquel was relaxed as they sat in the bleachers. "Do not fret, we can see much here still." Which was true. The view from the box would have been better, but it was in her mind that down here Celeres did not have to worry about the approval of the king. It was a sad state she thought that the king could not give affection to his nephew and she wondered what the cause was, for Celeres was a delightful man and she did not know the king to be cruel. It was very puzzling.

The trumpets sounded again and the names of the first two contests were announce. The name of the second man caused the lady to sit up straighter. The young lord Septor? She did not know Arthur well, they had had in fact only one encounter, though it had been recent. In fact in her mind it was but yesterday and yet a lifetime ago. How could one dance have caused her such distraction she did not know, but it had only been one dance and she she fancied it as nothing more then a one sided attraction. Still she watched as the armor men moved, the rose now laying on her lap as she gasped as the young man was struck by the well beloved veteran. The competition continued and her eyes were upon the two armored men the whole while until the time was called. Racquel was grinning and clapping enthusiastically once the winner was announced. It seemed for the moment she had forgotten her companion.

 

[Saint Tribs]

Celeres was nearly off his seat as he watched the sword match. It was exciting, though he knew it wasn't the most popular of the events (at least it was more popular than archery!), he really enjoyed it. He knew he wasn't the only one as he glanced back to Racquel, her rose in her lap and rather forgotten as her eyes and attention seemed so focused on the Knight.

With Lord Septor the Winner of the bout, he couldn't really blame her. He was rather... Knightly, wasn't he? Celeres smiled to himself but it made his chest tight, like one of the women's corsets. He'd seen enough fainting ladies and as a child had sat in with his dear Mother as she was laced in or cut out of a corset that had become dangerously tight.

The heir-apparent found himself clapping with Racquel. "Good form of him, don't you think?" He smiled over at her and followed her eager gaze to the Knight. Celeres of course had no idea about any sort of dances as he didn't attend them nor care about them, not any more.

"The next up should be Lord Oisin and Lord Meurig." Celeres offered before the announcers had a chance.

Soon enough though other Knights were taking the Ring.

 

[Vay]

Out of the arena and with his helmet off Arthur was wiping his brow with a rag as the first round of bouts continued. The one in progress would decide who he would face next. The Oisin-Meurig fight was a lot more exciting than his had been, both were younger men who were full of energy. Maybe that was a good thing, whoever he face would be ore tired then he was. He took the ladle of water offered by a steward and drank deep as he watched the fight though the gaps between the planks of the arena wall.

He also saw a familiar face in the stands and squinted... Lady Griffin... maybe the least lady-like lady the way she clapped, a far cry from the dance two summers ago. Who was it next to her...? Oh.. Mr. heir apparent slumming it in the benches? Why wasn't he and his escort in the box? Was this.. illicit.

There wasn't much time to ponder though because as the crowd cheered he had to congratulate the winner and then start preparing for his next round. It wasn't up immediatly but one of the blows for Guy had dented his paldron and it was causing some chafing when he moved.. he had enough time to find someone with a hammer to return it to it's popper shape before he was up again.

 

[Ochalla]

"Yes, I agree," Racquel said, her eyes sparkling. Maybe it was the excitement of the event, but it easily could have been because of someone in the event. Her smile became more modest as Celeres mentioned the next bout of fighters. "This should be exciting then," she told him before turning to watch the event.

The swords were heavier then any she would have ever wanted to handle, but it was smart to at least recognize other fighting styles. While the first match all her attention had been on the Lord Septor, the second was a case study on how two able men fighted, including how they countered each other and what their individual weaknesses were as we'll as the styles weakness. Every style had them, it was a matter of being able to exploit them. Not that Racquel ever expected to have a chance to do so, but this was something her uncle would quiz her on when he learned she went to the event. She knew, because he'd done so before.

It was not too long before the dual was over and the winner announced. Racquel looked over at Celeres and grinned. "That was a very entertaining fight." She had to admit it was better then the first, even if she would have liked to see more of a certain knight fighting. "What did you think? I was a bit surprised how long it took Oisin to react to how Meurig drags his left leg in the fight."

 

[Saint Tribs]

The match was exciting, if the first match had had Celeres nearly off his seat this one even more so. He chuckled as the match closed with Oisin the clear winner though Meurig had definitely put up a spirited defense. "Hmm? Oh yes, definitely. I think he knew, he just wasn't going to use it against him at least until he got rather desperate after that keen move that Meurig pulled off towards the end." It had been a bit desperate and really had only served to irritate Oisin.

"Would you like to move to the box before the next round?" Celeres rose to his feet, holding out his arm to her. "After all, your dear Mother would have my head had she known we sat in the stands for even a round, much less two." He grinned at her. "They have sugar spun almonds..." He teased softly, hoping she'd go with him and out of the stands.

Tournaments could get rough and he'd rather not have to explain that to her Mother either. Or his. Or the King.

"We'll have a better view there."

 

[Vay]

Arthur walked to the armory and handed the shaped metal plate to the smith who looked at, then at Arthur, then started gathering his tools. "Exciting match is it?" the smith asked as the crowd cheered. "My sons watching, I usually have him 'ere with me but he wanted so badly to go I let him..." he gripped the metal in a vice and lifted his hammer. "Don't suppose I'll be able to get him back during the joust neither..."

Arther let the man talk, he was obviously worried as any parent would be... he was much more concerned his a man he had once thought a brother watching the fights with a woman he'd been to a dance with once. Celeres he should have expected, even though he hadn't seen them since they were both boys, Raquel on the other hand... The lady looked to enjoy watching men beat each other with blunt metal. There were more cheers, Arthur would be on again soon. That was the thing about the sword fights, where only nobles and knights could compete with the lance anyone who could afford armor and a sword could fight in the pit... there were a lot of interesting fights int he smaller tournaments, it was a pity this one was most aged veterans.

He took back the plate and handed over a few coins giving the smith a smile and a nod and began walking back to the waiting area, soon the paldron would be strapped back in place and he'd be being called again to face Lord Oisin... it had been a while and Arthus had a trick up his bracer that he'd been dying to try of the The warlord of the west as many liked to call him, governing his western province of bandits and slavers with a strong mounted force and ensuring the king's peace... it was Oisin that had won the joust last year. Not this year though.. not this year.

 

[Ochalla]

Celeres had some valid points and she was glad she could talk to him so freely about things such as fighting styles. Not that she ever spoke a word about her true passion to him, but never once when she made an observation or asked a question outside the normal sphear of womanly life did he bat an eye. He treated her like a lady, but he never treated her like she was dumb.

"I think it's best if we do not let Mother know then," Racquel said with a grin as she stood taking Celeres' hand. The stands were exciting, it was like you were almost in the action, but it would be an overall better view in the box. "Sweets you say?" Playing along with the added 'temptation' of the Royal Box.

Out of the stands Racquel walked with Celeres, the hand not taken by him holding the rose once more. They went around back until they reached the guards holding position at the steps leading up to the Royal Box. They nodded to Celeres and only took an extra moment to look at the woman he brought with him. Once up the steps Racquel could see the many advantages of being in the box.

 

[Saint Tribs]

Celeres had been pleased to have Racquel agree with him and lost himself in the always satisfying feeling of walking next to her and introducing her and helping her into the box as was right and proper. It was the little things that meant the most, it let him turn off his brain and his feelings for just a moment and only do what was expected him of him and not have to worry about anything else. He didn't think he could live like that but for just a few moments it was a clean respite.

Especially from the way Racquel made his heart pound so!

The Royal Box was shaded by thick cloth and hung with tapestries all in the Tempest Family's colors and motif's and whatnot. The seats were well cushioned and padded and the servants brought them water and spun sugar almonds. He carefully handed the little waxed paper cone over to Racquel as he stole one out of it. Celeres focused his attention on the field. "It's almost Lord Septor's turn again and then it's the Archery portion of the Event." There would be a feast that night for the Victor and for the Kingdom in general, a way of being generous while it wasn't exactly a holiday.

Celeres was already trying to figure out a way to get out of going.

 

[Vay]

He was up next and with the ringing of metal he drew his sword. The gate clattered up and he entered the light, helmet on and eyes on his opponent. .. then he glanced at the stands, they were gone. What? Had they left? Probably, why though. It..

Clang.

The sword struck his helmet and sent Arthur staggering back his head spinning. He had allowed himself to get distracted and was now behind.. Plenty of time to make up for it though.. he angled his sword so that the next blow was deflected upwards and he dashed forwards slamming his shoulder into Oisin's breastplate the jarring impact sending the knight stumbling backwards and allowing Arthur to bring his sword around full force hitting Oising on the side and sending the already unstable knight to the arena floor. Its not what most would call fighting fair but that kind of thing was allowed in the pit. It it were a duel it would be a whole different matter.

Oisin's squire rushed into the arena to help the knight up in his heavy armor and they faced off again circling each other like sharks, then Oisin struck and Arthur blocked and pushed Oisin back.. then Oisin swung again, and again, his last blow skirting Arthur guard and slamming into his shoulder with enough force to knock Arthur off his feet and send him into the sand, the already damages paldron spinning through the air and landing in the stands.

Arthur pushed himself up and git to his feet his shoulder screaming in pain as he lifted his sword and his arm dropped momentarily and Oisin grinned. Hurt Arthur wouldn't stand a chance. He swung again aiming to put as much pressure of the injured joint as he could but it wasn't really hurt, it had been a bluff. With an unexpected parry near the guard of Oisis's sword Arthur was able to wrest the blade from his hands and then strike his on the Helmet. then the breast plate, then knock his legs out from under him.. And with that the bout was over Arthur a close victor in what had to be the roughest bout of his career.

 

[Ochalla]

Racquel took the paper cone and took out one of the almonds, enjoying the taste of the treat, smiling at Celeres in thanks. Very soon however the match started, and her eyes were focused on the event, or rather one of the men in the event. When Arthur's helmet was struck by Lord Oisin's blade Racquel gasped audibly, her face set in worry until he set his sword and readied for the next blow. Being oblivious to how obvious her own reaction had been.

As the match continued, nothing else in the world had any meaning for Racquel, all her attention on the clanging swords and moves of the armored men, until finally a champion was had. "Did you see that?" Racquel exclaimed happily to Celeres with the match over.

The match was over though, which meaner that they would be setting up for the archery event.

"Celeres, I, well I made a promise and I must leave, but I will return." It was the truth, she had promised herself that this year she would enter the archery event. It was going to require her rushing home and rushing back, which she knew she could do easily. The only problem would be if Celeres asked questions or even worse try to escort her home. "Can you do me a favor? Can you watch the event? I don't know how long I will be gone, but... Well I would like to hear about it from you." Racquel looked at him with a hopeful gaze.