The Vipers’ Nest: Evening has come!
 

The year is 1677, the food is delectable, the dress is grand, and the times carefree.

Or so it would seem.

Beneath the surface of grand balls, rides through the forest and leisurely strolls through the gardens, lies a web of deceit, malice, and even murder. Do you have what it takes to survive the court of the Baroque era?

The Palace of Light and Air is home to the royal family and their many, seemingly loyal subjects. The King’s last advisor, the Duke of Mollier, had a most unfortunate accident that lead to his death. Since then the many nobles of court (the courtiers) have been doing whatever it takes to acquire the King’s favor and become his new advisor. In the mean time, the King is content to seek counsel from his wife, the Queen Isabella, and his old friend, Duc d'Lorraine.

Though the game has changed slightly from the original, I simply could not top eternal’s description.
The Roleplay:
Each roleplay day is split into thirds, the morning, the afternoon, and the evening. Each part of the day will last about four real life days. This will be adjusted as needed to allow everyone ample time to roleplay their characters. One roleplay day is considered a round.

Rules:
Follow all roleplaying rules of this forum.
All characters must be adults or elders.
Only a Duc or Duchess can become the King’s Advisor.
All RPs must have a minimum of 8 lines. You are encouraged to build conversations via PM then post them in the thread if need be.
Do your best to stay in the feel of the times. Remember, this is before electricity, running water, and automobiles.

The Rank & Titles:
Duc & Duchess – This is the highest level attainable in court. They have the most money, the best suites, and the most sordid past. Each character of this level starts with 80,000 livres, and a major scandal.
Comte & Comtess – The middle level of power in the court. They’re not the smallest fish in the pond, but they sure don’t rule the roost. Each character of this level starts with 60,000 livres, and either a major or minor scandal, decided by a randomizer.
Baron & Baroness- The lowest level of nobles in court. They are just beginning their journey up the ladder. Each character of this level starts with 40,000 livres and a minor scandal.
Untitled Characters – These characters have no title and are referred to simply as Mr. and Mrs. They may very well think themselves wealthy and important, but they’re nothing compared to the nobles with titles. Each character of this level starts with 20,000 livres and no scandals.

There are two ways to gain a title. You can buy a title, or be given a title from the King. It costs 80,000 livres to buy your way up one title.

Scandals:
A scandal can be either a minor scandal or a major scandal. (These are considered levels.)

Minor Scandals: These scandals have to do with flirtations, having relations with a commoner, dueling, and blackmail. If a scandal of this nature reaches the King’s ear, the character will be demoted one rank, and/or given a “morality fine” of 50,000 livres.
Major Scandals: These scandals have to do with infidelity, murder, treason and stealing from the King. If this type of scandal reaches the King’s ear, you are guaranteed banishment from court. (Members of the Royal family, and the advisor are the only ones exempt from this rule.)

When a new character enters the RP they are required to begin with a scandal. These are referred to as given scandals. The level of the given scandal depends on their title and rank. (See section above.) During the RP new scandals are sure to be born. These are referred to as created scandals. All these scandals, both given and created will be put into a scandal database. A created scandal will only stay in the database for one RP week, given scandals stay in there indefinitely. Each round (1 RP day) a randomizer will be ran and a scandal chosen. This scandal will make its way to the ear of Miss Mercy Flight.

Who is Mercy Flight? She is the court gossip, the court snoop. Each day she will have a scandal told to her. Depending on how the randomizer goes, it may already be old news to her. She will then alert your character that she knows their dirty little secret. It’s up to you to do whatever it takes to earn her silence as each day Mercy Flight has the opportunity to tattle to the King. So if she approaches you, it may be in your best interest to do whatever it takes to appease her. IF you decide to bribe her, you must PM me the amount of money you bribed.

Money:
It’s what makes the world go round. Money, and lots of it. Your character begins with a set amount of money depending on their title. There are two ways to earn more money. If it is suggested to him, the King may gift it to you. The other way is by visiting the Court Accountant (randomizer), in RP formally asking for the money. The request will be denied or approved formally in the RP. You can only ask for money four times, and each request is limited to a maximum of 20,000 livres. You must have two rounds between each visit to the accountant. The money is measured in the baroque French currency – livres.

Suggestions:
Every round the King will heed a suggestion made by either the Queen, or Duc d'Lorraine. (The decision is made with the randomizer.)
Suggestions will consist of:
- Granting titles- they can suggest you go up one title from your own
- Bestowing money – a financial gift of up to 40,000 livres may be given
- Demoting- they can suggest you go down one title
- Fining- a financial reprimand of up to 20,000 livres
- Banishment- if they get mad enough at you, you could be banished from court

The format: Each RP Day morning, the King will hold his morning announcements. This is when he will follow through on a suggestion given to him, and deal with any scandals that he has learned about. The afternoon and evening is free time for your character.

Gaining the Prize:
Once your character has been a Duc or a Duchess for four RP days, you are eligible to be appointed Advisor. Once you are eligible, you must get the Queen or the King's old friend to suggest you be appointed to the King. Once they make the suggestion, the King (a randomizer) will decide if he agrees. If the King does not agree to appoint you, you must wait another four RP days before the suggestion can be given again.

If the King does appoint you, congratulations, you’re the new advisor. As the advisor you now have the King’s ear and will be able to give suggestions just as the Queen and Duc d'Lorraine do. It’s time to pay back all those who helped you get to where you are. However, just because you’ve gotten the position does not mean you’re safe, or the game is over. If the king was to find out about a major scandal of yours, you will be fired and demoted to the level of a Comte. The position becomes open again for someone else to enjoy their moment of fame. If you become the advisor and are not active for two RP days,(roughly a month real time) a new advisor may be appointed.

Applications:
Though the palace of light and air is indeed grand, there are only fourteen suites available. So if you no longer wish to participate, please have the curtesy to remove your character from the RP to allow others to join. Do not be surprised if your character is banished if you have been inactive for a month’s time.

When you submit an application please include the following:

After you submit your application, you must PM me your character’s given scandal. This is the scandal they begin the game with, that will stay in the scandal database. You may not post an RP until after I’ve approved your scandal. Remember, the severiety of the scandal depends on your characters rank.

There are limited spots open so please be sure there is room for your desired rank.

If there are any question, please feel free to PM me.

The Palace and It's People
 

The Palace of Light and Air… A splendid French palace exquisitely decorated and lavishly furnished. To the north of the palace lies woods that are a popular place for people to explore, get lost, and simply enjoy time away from others. The stables lie between the Palace and the woods. To the south of the palace you’ll find the palace rose garden, fountain and maze. The maze is a popular place for young lovers to get some privacy. To the south east is the palace orangery, a wonderful haven for flowers of all types throughout the brutal winter.
The Palace Main Floor –

The east wing is home for the higher ranking nobles and the west wing home to the lower ranking ones. “Salon” is a meeting place, weather it’s a casual tea, or a party thrown by a courtier, these are rooms for socializing. The Grand Salon is where the King gives his morning announcements. The Great Hall is a multi-purpose room for when the weather does not make outdoor activities possible. Practice fencing, play croquet, this room is large enough for most anything.

The Palace Upper Floor-

The upper floor is home to the royal family and the king’s advisor. It is not wise to step foot on the upper floor without an invitation from a member of the royal family.

The Palace Lowest Floor-

The lowest floor of the palace is where the servants spend much of their time. It is a floor most nobles never descend to.


The Royal Palace is home to many people. Here’s the few who’s names you need to know.
(All of these characters are not eligible to hold the advisor’s position.)

The King Edouard Auguste Louis Rotherham IV
Age: 42


King Edouard is a private man who spends most of his time in his Salon, or in his private suite. He leans heavily upon his wife and his friend Duc d'Lorraine for advice now that his beloved Duc of Mollier is gone.
He is an NPC whos actions depend on a randomizer. The only people who have access to him is the Queen and his old friend.

Queen Isabella Rotherham
Age: 23


King Edouards second wife, she is often called the most powerful woman of the kingdom. It is a title that she enjoys living up to immensely.

Dimitri-Josèphe, Duc d'Lorraine
Age: 48

The King's old friend, Dimitri, is quite opposite of the King in nearly every way imaginable.

Princess Adalita
The King’s only heir, she is a rebellious young lady. Sadly, Princess Adalita is no longer with us.

Baroness Mercy Flight
Age: "A woman never tells!"


A message from Mercy:
"Why hello dear courtier, my name is Mercy. I have been around this court for many, many years. If your like me you get to know everyone well in time, whether they want you to or not. Now it is time to decide what your future holds; welcome to my game, my world. Do you wish to play?"

Prince Octavien Lahance
Age: 21


Octavien came to this court as an untitled man. Thanks to his luck in happening across the Queen when she was in need he found himself in her favor, eventually moving up the ranks to the title of a Comte. Though he does not have direct access to the king, his marriage to the princess makes him ineligible for the advisor’s position.

Active Characters & Story Synopsis
 

The morning of Day 2, there was an apparent attempt made on Prince Octavien's life by Marquess Federico Berini, one of the queen's past lovers. Later Octavien confided in Isabella that he framed the Marquess.

Duc d'Lorraine, Edouard's old friend has arrived to the Palace. He is to stay and give suggestions to the king regarding his courtiers.

Baroness Mercy Flight tripped and fell, shattering a vase that was a favorite of the first queen. She confessed to Isabella, and seemingly got rewarded with 20,000 livres for her honesty.

One of the guests attending the royal wedding was Marquess Federico Berini, one of Isabella's past lovers. He had saught her company, however Isabella enjoys the company of the newly crowned Prince Octavien more. This past night Federico inturupted Isabella's harpsichord lesson with Octavien, and caused a few problems between the two love birds. Marquess Berini was escorted from the upper floor, only after threatening Octavien Lahance.

The Princess engagement to Duc Silvius Peitou-Charentes was announced. Two days later, everyone was shocked to see Princess Adalita marry Comte Octavien Lahance instead. Rumors are flying about that the Princess' sudden change of heart was because her intended groom was seen leaving the room of Baroness Roseline Taylor the morning of his wedding. However, since the wedding, the Princess and Duc Silvius have been seen in each others company many times. The most notable of which Duc Charentes left his own party with the Princess on his arm.

King Edouard's Morning Announcements
 

Day 2 of the new year (Day 1 was in the previous thread.)

Edouard entered the Grand Salon with his wife upon his arm, and the newly crowned Prince behind him. Missing today, was Princess Adalita, a fact that left Edouard in a rather short supply of patience.

No sooner had he taken his usual place he demanded the nobles cease their endless chatter with his usual authoritive words. “The King Speaks.” Those words alone brought an immediate end to the ceaseless chatter. Just as quickly as the talk had stopped, whispers began to rise as many noticed that the Princess was not with the rest of her family.

“This morning I fear I must bring good news, and bad news. First, I shall take care of business.” A servant from the side met the King as he took a step down from his position. “Baroness Flight,” he called beckoning the woman to make her position known. “Our beloved Queen has brought to my attention that your honesty is a noble trait that should not go unrewarded.” He handed the Baroness a certificate. “Honesty is a trait I admire, and so it shall be rewarded with a sum of 20,000 livres.”

After allowing Mercy the appropriate amount of time to courtesy, Edouard began making his way back to his prior position, not waiting his arrival to continue speaking. “Since much time has passed, and I still have not found a courtier who I esteem worthy of the highest position of being my advisor, I have decided to open the position to those not currently in our court. I do expect that our numbers will soon be added to.”

Now that he was back at his normal perch, he continued speaking. One would have thought that his voice could not get anymore void of joy, however, it soon proved it could. “As I’m sure all have noticed, the fair Princess Adalita is not with us this morning. Something has come over her, I am hopeful that she shall resume her duties soon. In the meantime her suite is off limits, to everyone. No one is to enter her suite without my permission.”

With that final announcement, the royal family, minus one made their way out of the Grand Salon.

Queen Isabella
 

As the morning came, Isabella remained laying in her bed. Her eyes however were not closed. She had sought the comfort of sleep, for when asleep one didn’t feel any hurt or pain. Yet sleep proved to be the elusive fortress that she was unable to find. Instead she remained under her covers, content to stay there. Margret had asked her a couple times to rise, Isabella’s only reply was that she was not feeling well, and wished to stay where she was. Margret knew that something had happened with the Marquess as every servant privileged enough to work the top floor knew something had happened. However Isabella did not confide in her friend the true nature of her sudden illness. She simply couldn’t bring herself to utter what had happened. That she had become weak and fragile. She had a reputation to uphold after all.

Soon a servant entered and spoke with Margret briefly. Margret then walked towards Isabella’s bedside. “It seems you are not the only one who does not feel well my lady.” Isabella looked towards Margret with curiosity. “It seems the Princess has come down with something suddenly. She is too weak to stand.” The statement brought Isabella out of her daze. Though they had not been close, she still cared for the girl. Despite being in her night dress, she quickly made her way to Adalita’s suite.

Upon entering the room she made her way quickly to the girl’s bedside. She couldn’t fathom that this body that seemed to have the shadow of death over it could be Adalita. She had just been so alive and beautiful two days ago at her wedding. How could she suddenly be so ill? Isabella’s thoughts went to the unborn baby that Adalita carried. The young Princess was unresponsive to Isabella’s presence. There was no good Isabella could do for the girl, so she made her way back to her own suite.

She inhaled deeply. Before she did not wish to leave her room, but with the Princess being in such a horrid state, she certainly could not be selfish. She stared at her reflection in the mirror as the servants hastily began to do her hair. She scolded herself for becoming what she had. Yes, she had never felt so alive when in Octavien’s presence. the thought of never feeling the warmth of his embrace again pained her. But she still was The Queen Isabella Rotherham. And she would behave as much so, at least when it was her time to play the part before the audience of the world.

Her servants had done their job well, and soon Isabella found herself giving her appearance in the mirror one more pass over once again. Despite forcing herself into the royal mold, she could see in her reflection that she was not nearly alive this morning as she was the morning prior. She was certain those who did not care, such as Edouard, would not notice a single thing was wrong. However she feared if someone looked hard enough, they would notice her usually cordial smile was not nearly as wide today. If someone had reason to suspect, they would see she was broken. She wondered if the single someone who had the ability to see within her would dare to look.

Soon she left her suite, once again seeing Octavien and Edouard standing together. Edouard's face was heavy with concern, obviously for his daughter. Isabella kept her focus on her husband, as if she allowed her eyes to drift, she was sure the feelings of the night before would spring forth from the deep place she had just barely managed to bury them.

The mood was somber as the three of them made their way to the Grand Salon in silence. Isabella stood as her usual statuesque self while Edouard seemed to rush his way through the morning announcements. In seemingly record time he had finished what he had to say and Isabella found herself in her private suite once more.

The Baroness opened eyes, the new morning was there and from the package on her dressing table so was the gift she has ordered, helena however was not, Mercy did not begrudge her maid the freedom she deserved but she did wonder where she was.

She dressed swiftly and made her way to morning announcements, she had money bestowed on her for the destruction of the vase, she laughed inwardly at that fact, by the time she returned, it seemed Helena had also with a patch of Roses in white and a delicate pink, "my dear you have outdone yourself this time, these will be perfect" she took the spray of roses and placed it inside the vase from the package, it was a peach/pink vase with a cream banner around it with an inlay of white roses, acccompanying it was an urn in the same pattern, it was slightly bulkier with a lid, Mercy felt the Queen could put it to better use than the vase, however she saw the vase as necessasary. She smiled to herself as she constructed the note to accompany it:

My Dear Queen

Upon the understanding you did not require a direct replacement I have had these made for you as a token of my esteem, I hope you find these a suitable gift. I would also like to offer my wellest wishes for your Daughters, well-being. However she is a strong young girl, whom I am sure will return to health in a flourish.

Your humble servant,

Baroness Flight.

She, was going to dispatch helena with them but seing her struggle to hold the both on a tray she took the urn back and walked to the queens suite along side her companion, on her way up she way-layed a passing servant and had her accompany Helena to the door of the Queens suite with the gifts whilst she retreated down the hall, to wait for Helena, of whom she was rather protective, it was a big court after all...

((For the sake of nostalgia I saved Eternal's Avatars for the characters still in use...))

Comte Felix Peitou-Charentes Returns!
 

I nervously drummed the wooden windowledge inside my coach, waiting rather impatiently for the coachman to get a move on fixing the left wheel. Undoubtedly I was already too late, probably by days already. God only knows what had taken place at the Palace in those few days without my heroic presence. Trust my luck for matters like these to spring up in the most unfortuous of circumstances. Oh, damn it all. An extra zealous tap of my hand caused the wooden strip to dislodge itself, falling to the floor with a clatter. Sacrebleu, I cursed silently, picking up the rotten wood and superficially holding it back to it's original place, as if in hope it would perhaps secrete glue and repair itself.

"Zut, Monsieur. You break it, you pay for it." said the coachman's head, appearing in the opposite window.
"Comte," I mumbled under my breath. "It's Comte, not Monsieur."
Clearly the scruff had no regard for respect or manners. I waved him off. There was no time for menial matters like this, and if his carriage was as rotten as the dead, that was his problem. I had serious business at the palace. Not that anyone would be expecting me to roll through the grand entrance; for all they knew, I was on a mission of intensive wine-tasting to find the perfect grape for my vineyard. Which was close to the truth, although my vineyard was ruined from the cold snap this winter and I had no money or time to invest into it's maintenance.
"S'no good, this won't fix," stated the fool, waving one arm towards the wheel which had evidentially snapped clean in two. "Yer'll have to go elsewhere. I can't do nothing for yer today; or yer can wait three days or so for me to get a new wheel."

I cocked an eyebrow, donning my most sinister and intimidating glare. "Are you suggesting that I impose upon myself an even greater degree of late-dom, when this morning I have an urgent appointment with Her Majesty, the Queen?" Well, that was a small white lie. I had no appointment, but was certain the Queen would be more than willing to create one once seeing I had returned. The peasant shrugged, dislodging a fat flea from behind his ear. "She'll have off with your head, you know. Mon Dieu, she will. It's been a few days since the last execution. It'll be a big public event, and we might even keep your head on a spike if we can get rid of the fleas."

With a grunt that sounded closer to a squeak of fear, the cretin made a slow movement towards one of the two horses. Undoing the straps that secured it to the carriage, he handed me the reins.
"Take 'im. But I'll be wanting him back before sunset or else... else I'll..."

I smiled courteously, accepting the reins from him and chirping a "Why thank you, peasant. Au revoir!" With a brief yet patronising wave, I dug my heels into the side of the old carthorse and left in a cloud of trailing dust. Most impressive, indeed.

The horse was harder to handle than at first expected. Most of the ponies I'd had experience with were usually well-trained pedigree specimens with mild tempers and docile nature, hand-picked for those qualities. But this brute.. It was stocky and muscular, and it's hair was coarse, ruddy and covered in dirt. And the beast had a complete mind of it's own, speeding up to an out-and-out gallop as it realised it had freedom from the coach. No matter how hard I tugged the reins, the horses head remained solid. "Whey! Steady boy!" I called in vain, in some attempt to soothe the savage. At least we were heading the right direction, I thought, as we careened along the street knocking over the market stalls and spilling vegetables all over. The palace gates were drawing ever closer; perhaps if I could skilfully swing from the speeding horse and land on both feet, it would impress any courtier spectators. But alas, once more my luck ran short. The horse suddenly came to a complete and abrupt halt, spotting a juicy cabbage roll past. Unfortunately, I did not lose momentum and found myself still flying through the air at breakneck speed, and the palace wall was coming up with equal enthusiasm. I prayed that it would be one of those impacts of the likes where you don't feel the pain until a long time afterwards. No such luck. The pain was immediate and severe, and a dozen little pinpricks of black blurred out my vision. My last thoughts were hoping I hadn't broken anything serious, like my nose. What a state I'd look turing up at the Palace with a nose like a drunken brawler. And then I fainted.

When I came to, it was to the most vile, obnoxious stench I'd experienced since that filthy one-legged prostitute in Belgium. In fear it was her again, I snapped my eyes open and they soon focused on the grey wiry hair of some old hag. Oh hell, where was I now? The hag retreated a little, grinning toothlessly and clutching a bottle of brown substance. Ah. Smelling salts. I suddenly realised what I was doing, and that I still was very much late, except now looking much more worse-for-wear. I picked myself up shakily, brain reeling trying to come up with a way to explain this one off to the court. "Step aside, peasants!" I shouted to the gaggle of onlookers. "I have an important duty at the Palace to take care of. Now, after finishing the testing of our palace defenses," - I patted the solid wall - "I can officially confirm that our palace is safe from intruders." I puffed my chest out, recollecting any scraps of dignity I had left, and strode away from the scene as best as I could. This proved to be somewhat harder than at first thought, as my leg must have somehow been damaged with the impact, and I seemed to have gained a limp. Zut alors, I'd return to the court not only horseless but also a cripple and a royal mess.

There was no way I could be expected to use the main entrance in my current state. The whole palace would undoubtedly see me, ask questions which I couldn't answer and still retain a modicum of respect amongst my peers, and I would generally be demoted to Palace Fool Number Two, alongside Claus the Clown. No, I could not go through the palace gates. I leaned against the sturdy wall, musing for a few minutes, when the thought hit me like a courtier being thrown off a rogue horse. Myself of all people should know of 'alternative' routes into the Palace - had I not instructed various women to use them, almost every night since I became a Comte? Yes, the palace was riddled with secret entrances and tunnels, the nearest of which was only fifty feet or so from where I stood. I limped along the wall until I came to the gargoyle sculputre with three eyes, then took twenty steps outwards until I was amidst a coppice of trees. Between the two yews, there was a patch of ground which was slightly risen compared to that around it. I felt around amongst the leaves for a rusty ring of iron; grasping it, I gave it a tug and the trapdoor came open releasing a cloud of dirt. After a short coughing fit, I waved the dirt aside and climbed into the hole. Of course, it was only when I got down there did I realise how dark the tunnel was. Cursing, I fished around my ruined outfit for a tinderbox of some sort. Alas, I wasn't one for arson so never had that object on my person. I would have to proceed in complete darkness.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the occasional crunch underfoot and the constant scuttling in the background. Perhaps it was better to be dark; that way I wouldn't see what company I had, and the palace would never learn of my irrational fear of spiders. The tunnel felt as though it was getting endlessly deeper, and it showed no signs of rising again. To my knowledge the tunnel didn't exit in the cellar, but behind an ugly tapestry of some late monarch on the ground floor. I kept on, noting how damp and putrid-smelling the tunnel actually was. And I'd forced young women to use this tunnel often? No matter, they were only prostitutes. Eventually, my eyes picked up the first few rays of dim light creeping around the edge of the tapestry ahead. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, rushing to get out of the spider-ridden tunnel but hesitating just before I pushed the tapestry aside. Anyone could be strolling past, and what would they think to see a bedraggled, barely-recognisable fool stepping foot in the palace? They'd call the guards and have me executed, that's what. I laid wait for a few minutes, listening carefully for footsteps. None came, so I slipped out from the darkness into blessed morning light. I took a few moments to revel in the cleanliness of the palace around me, before sprinting as best as I could with my leg injury up the staircase to find my suite. All I could hope for was no room changes in my absence; it would be most humiliating to walk in upon someone else and expose myself looking in such a state. I could see the door to my suite now, and there was nobody else around - I had made it! Lady Luck had finally taken my side for once on this damned day!

"Well, if it isn't Comte Felix.." came a voice behind me. Oh, merde...

((Whew! Oh I've missed my Felix. So, as you can see, Felix is very much approachable and that bit on the ends open right now for anyone to step in. He would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else you saw him looking like a peasant covered in dust and tunnel-slime Oh and can I still use Felix's application from the old thread? Or will I have to repost it again here?))

((OOC: What an amazing re-introduction Hay. It's going to be nice to have him around again! You can repost your app if you like, or leave it where it is. Either way I'll just link to it in the characters listing.))

*edit*

((OOC: Quick comment to those of you who have been with me from the beginning in the old thread. I do not know if I will be able to link to the posts of the old thread after HP archives it. So if you'd like your application available, please post a "re"app in this thread, and I will change the links as needed. Thanks!))

((OOC: Nice picture Swirly. Just a little note... if you look at the Palace Maps (post 2 ) Lilian is on the bottom floor, so she'd have to go "up" to visit Isabella.

Usually someone would be a fool to go to Isabella's Suite without an invitation, but luckily for Lilian she has her title to protect her. I will work on an RP and add it to this post shortly.))

*edit*
((As promised....))

Once inside the safety of her suite Isabella ordered a brunch brought up to her. She had taken her usual thinking spot by the northern window, looking out over the forest. The trees were a picture of death, their branches standing tall with no foliage to dress them. They looked like scrawny skeletons… Much like Adalita.

The thought had snuck into her mind, a most unwelcomed intruder. Isabella recalled how beautiful they had been with their hues of red and gold when she had found herself lost. When Octavien had rescued her. Not only had he rescued her from the humiliation of being lost in her own forest, but shortly after he rescued her from the golden cage of her crown, from lonely nights, and she had though from a lonely life. A smile snuck its way on her face, just as stealthily as the horrendous thought had earlier. She closed her eyes, images of him donning his mischievous grin replaying in her mind.

As she leaned against the wall, her thoughts were soon interrupted by a knock on the door. Isabella turned her head immediately wishing to see who it was. Had Octavien been able to put his mind to rest during the night? He had said that they’d talk later, rather than he wished not to talk to her at all. Her gut said he would seek her out, he just had to.

As the doors entered, she saw two servant girls, one of who didn’t look the slightest familiar. And that meant something as nearly all the servant girls looked identical to her. Isabella’s own servants took the beautifully decorated vases from the girls. “A gift, for her Royal Highness.” They announced.

Isabella’s eyes sparkled once again. The assortment of pink and white roses were absolutely breathtaking, so soft and delicate. The vase they were in, and its accompanying urn managed to not be outshone by the beautiful bouquet. The gift was truly marvelous. Her heart leaped at the possibility of them being from Octavien, however her head chided her for such presumptions. He had had no time since they bitterly parted ways last night to purchase such an extravagant gift. Logic stated that it simply couldn’t be from him. So who were they from then?

She reached for the note that accompanied the gift, she opened it gingerly and eagerly read its contents. As her previous smile faded, giving way to a much different one she looked at the gift with new eyes. The Baroness had chosen a vase to replace the one she broke, however this one was most obviously created with Isabella in mind. In a way the gift had been Baroness Flight’s way of acknowledging that Isabella was the current Queen, the one before her no longer mattered.

Isabella leaned in one more time to take in the glorious scent of the blossoms when there was another knock on the door. As a servant girl made her way to reveal who it was, the woman on the other side began speaking. “Your Majesty?” Her voice sounded as if something was wrong. “M-might I be able to discuss something with you?'

The doors then opened to reveal Princess Lilian standing at the door way. Isabella’s eyes blinked and her face bore a serious expression as she was most surprised to see her. “Princess Whitman”, she addressed the girl as she began to walk towards her. “Are you alright?”

(( Oh, sorry! *headdesk* Yeah, I actually paused for a bit and wondered whether or not to send Lilian to the suite, but in the end was kinda 'Hey, she's a Princess, go crazy!' Hehe <=) ))

Baroness Valary DiBendetto - App
 

Name: Valary DiBendetto
Title: Baroness
Age: 19
Bio: Valary was blessed with good looks, not that she cared. Her attitude towards life is somewhat pessimistic, but underneath the sharp look, sharp tougne and possibly harsh personality is a young woman who believes being tough and sharp is the way to live in the world. Preferring the company of the black stallion she once had before her father went bankrupt, Valary is determined not to follow the ways of her father who wanted nothing but money, and make a name for herself at Court, whatever way she can.
Picture:

My original icky app
 

Name: Mercy Flight
Age:
Title: Court Gossip - Baroness
Personality: "What can I say? Life is life and other peoples are so much more interesting. I can be sworn to secrecy... if we're friends or if there is something in it for me."
Mercy is very loud and insists it is the public's right to know, this point of view may have come from her deceased husbands constant affairs that she knew nothing of until his funeral. She at the moment lacks good friends, which she craves this makes her an excellent target for flattery, or occasional bribery.
Picture: (The magnificent Dame Judy Dench)

The Queen's expression troubled Lilian, but she could not turn back now.
The Princess curtsied, her jet black hair tumbling over her right shoulder.
“Princess Whitman”, she addressed the girl as she began to walk towards her. “Are you alright?”
'Oh, yes, I am most content, you are most gracious hostess' She replied softly, a hint of nerves about her voice 'Though, I was wondering if I might prey upon your kindly nature. I- I must face reality, I can no longer run away from the grief, I must stop at some point'
She took a deep breath and fluttered her eyelids.
'I...I thought that perhaps...I might...stay in this court, not as a visitor...but as a member of the household?'
'B-but if not' She added, flustered 'Do not worry, not at all...I mean, of course, I am being rather foward, I can assure you I will not be insulted in the slightest if you decline'

Re-app - Octavien Lahance
 

Name: Octavien Lahance

Age: 21

Title: Untitled, to Comte, to Prince

Personality:
Octavien was a young man with a hunger for nothing more than fun and adventure. Unfortunately, this lead to quite a few precarious situations, and after having been seen leaving the bedroom of one too many married women, his parents sent him away from home, to the court, in the hopes of having him discover that there's more to life than just having "fun". And he did. He discovered power, and the perks of having friends in high places. Now he has his mind set on earning a title, one way or another, and although still a carefree thrill-seeker, he can also be a cunning, ambitious trickster. He's watching the aristocrats and learning what he can from them. And the higher the title, the bigger his interest. Thus, he has taken a special interest in the Queen herself.

Picture:



And one and two more, just because. :P

Valary's eyes fluttered open. Her room was cold, no doubt because she had left the window open during the night. She pushed back to covers of her bed, and swung her legs out, barely registering the dull thump her feet made as they hit the floor. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She wasn't going to miss morning announcements.

--------------------------

Valary watched as the Royal Family departed, mulling over what she had just heard. She hadn't been at Court long enough to really know Baroness Flight, but she knew who the Princess was, and felt slightly worried at her lack of health. Normally, she would not have cared, but something made her worry about the woman. She shook it from her head, and began to walk out of the Salon, the usually stony face of hers strangely thoughtful. A few strands of her hair were beginning to fall from their carefully prepared style, but she brushed them away impatiently, barely feeling them as her pale hand swept them into place. She stopped near a window, and looked out. The Palace grounds looked dead. The trees were nothing more than withered skeletons, shadows of their previous blooming form. The wind whistled angrily outside, and she turned away, careful not to trip on her long dress. She looked into the black folds, and lost herself in them, too lost in thought to notice anything around her.

((Approachable. And a little rambly from an unexperianced RPer, but hopefully I'll get better))

((OOC: A quick note to those who are around. "Baroness Valary" is no longer part of this RP. So please don't have your characters approach her, as she will not be able to reply.

Sorry Fayreview! I'm a bit late for Mercy's sake. :doh ))

((Well that's why pencils have erasers, and posts have delete options ))

Roseline Taylor..
 

(Sorry about the hair x.x Forgot to download some relevant ones before taking the piccitures .. xP)

Isabella & Princess Lilian - Isabella's Suite
 

((OOC: Wow funheart Roseline looks like a whole new sim!))

“Oh, yes. I am most content, you are a most gracious hostess.” The seemingly delicate woman replied. Isabella’s face then immediately switched from an expression of concern to an expression of curiosity. What did this visitor want, and why did she seem so fragile compared to the other day?

“Though, I was wondering if I might prey upon your kindly nature.” The woman’s choice of words brought a new feeling upon Isabella. It was one she wasn’t used to. If someone desired something of her, they usually had their subtle ways of hinting at it. It seemed the Princess was going to bluntly ask for it. No one had been so bold to do that since her meeting with Duc Silvius, and that hadn't turned out so well. But what could Isabella possibly grant Lilian that she did not already have? “I… I must face reality, I can no longer run away from my grief. I must stop at some point.”

As the woman took a deep breath Isabella continued to listen intently. She soon believed Lilian’s apparent nerves were caused by a hurt she had been hiding. Not so much unlike a certain queen she knew. “I… I thought that perhaps I might stay in this court,” she continued. “Not as a visitor, but as a member of the household?”

A slight smile came to Isabella’s features. It wasn’t necessarily cordial or comforting, it was the sort of smile she got when reminded of her position of power. “… I can assure you I will not be insulted in the slightest if you decline.” Lilian quickly added.

Isabella turned and began to slowly pace away from the doors, her delicate fingers tapping at her waist as she thought. The young Princess wished to stay in Isabella's kingdom, and not return to her own. Perhaps what she truly sought was a new life, one that did not remind her of the tragic accident her fiancé had died as a result of. What the woman really wanted was a new life, a new identity… a new title?

Having paced three yards or so from the Princess who stood just inside the doorway, Isabella turned, her answer had been prepared. “With his daughter in such a horrid state, I am afraid the King is not in his typical condition. But, I do think once the Princess has recuperated, perhaps I can mention it to him. I don’t see any reason why he would object.”

She smiled at the Princess Lillian, this time with a smile shining with satisfaction. This Princess had some odd ways about her, though it seemed she was smart. After all, she knew who to approach when she needed something accomplished, a fact that showed she knew who truly ruled the kingdom.

((OOC: Fay... sorry if Mercy takes insult to my last sentence. lol What can I say... each of our girls "owns" the kingdom. ))

*edit*
((Welcome littlesunshine!))

*edit 2*
Oh!! Someone please spot Felix!! (Isabella would... but alas... she's busy.))

((Shenan I'm too tired to even think about what Mercy thinks...What can I say recent events have made me wonder about my part here at S2C... But I'm sure Mercy wouldn't begrudge Isabella her 'dellusions' ))

Fleur sat quiety at her open window. She softly combed her long curls as she gazed out of the window. There was a gentle breeze that hit her flushed cheeks. She day dreamed there was a world of excitement and passion outside that window. With freedom and happiness that she never knew. She sighed thinking of how delightful a life of adventure would be. Her dream was interuppted by a gentle knock at her bedroom door. Fleur lifted herself slowly from her chair and made her way to the door. Slowly opening the door, with curiousty across her pretty face. "A letter for you Miss" a servant said to her at the door, handing over a letter address to Fleur. "Thank you" Fleur replied and stepped back into her room.

She sat at her dressing table, carefully opening the letter. The letter was in small neat handwriting, it was unmistakebly her husbands Charles writing. She should have known. She would never recieve a letter of important or interest to her.
Fleur sighed boredly as she read the letter.

Mi fleur más querido ha sido tres semanas desde que i escribió por último. Usted no contestó a mi letra pasada. Fui preocupado. Cómo puede la confianza de I usted si usted no hace mientras que le digo. Espero que usted sea bien y que se comporta como usted debe. Conteste por favor a mi letra ESTE VEZ, yo se preocupan más de usted. Su marido Charles

Fleur frowned at the letter and ripped it up. She would not reply back, not yet anyway. She would let him worry a little longer. Still angry Fleur left her bedroom. She walked the highly decorated corridors, fanning herself along the way and smiling at passes by.

(approachable)

Octavien
 

(((ooc: Sorry it's taken me a while. Now I know what this 'real life' that everyone is always referring to actually is.

funheart - Aw, she's so pretty. )))



The Prince that appeared by the King's side this morning, to await the Queen by the grand staircase on the upper floor, was clearly a young man with a burden that weighed heavily on his noble shoulders. He was tired, yes, that much even a fool amongst fools could see, but what was more was that a small crease had formed between his fair eyebrows, looking as though it had been literally etched into the features that so rarely donned signs of anything but cordiality, attentiveness and dignity. The usual light in his eyes seemed to have been dimmed. It was evident that something was bothering him. Most were sure to attribute it to worry about his 'beloved' wife, whose health had been rapidly dwindling during the night, including the King. Only two knew better - that there was far more to the story than that, that it wasn't even the biggest concern on the mind of the young Prince - and only one of them was someone who he could bring himself to look in the eye. When Isabella left her suite and joined them, Octavien's gaze had grown quite attached to one of the many marble statues decorating the large hall in which he and the King had stood waiting. He was not yet ready for their eyes to meet, and for their silent communication to to commence. There were things he longed to say, but they were words meant for his lips, not mere glances to be given whenever a random opportunity presented itself. He did, however, manage to tear his gaze away from the statue just long enough for it to land on the floor just infront of Isabella, while he offered the slight, courteous bow that was expected of him.

Trailing after his mother- and father-in-law, down the grand staircase and into the Grand Salon, Octavien barely listened to what the King had to say for his morning announcement. He was quite preoccupied with his own thoughts. Given last night's disaster, he had realized that he would have to protect himself, and Isabella, from the detestable brute that threatened their safety, and their... 'friendship'. In doing so, he would have to use a language that the man could understand. And he knew just what language that would be.

Upon returning to his suite, he wasted no time. Time was of the essence, as he wasn't quite sure how serious the Marquess had been about his threats. Perhaps he was already on his way to request an audience with the King, or perhaps he was taking his time, to make the Queen and the new Prince sweat. Octavien hadn't looked for him among the courtiers that had attended the morning announcement, but he was sure he'd been there. After the pleasure he had taken in offending and insulting Isabella and Octavien both last night, Octavien couldn't imagine that he'd pass up the chance of trying to see what damage he might've done, nor did he doubt that the Marquess was the kind of man that would toy with his enemies for a bit before he struck.
Thus, Octavien went straight from the doors to the desk, where he sat down to compse a brief note.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Marquess Berini,

It appears we got off on the wrong foot. With your permission, I would like for us to start over, as I do believe setting aside our differences could prove most beneficial to both parties. Please find me in my suite at your earliest convenience so that we may discuss the matter further.

Cordialement,
Prince Octavien Lahance

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Keeping the note polite and devoid of the proper royal tone was pure torture, but in order to keep from provoking the reptile known as Marquess Berini, Octavien thought it best not to sound too demanding.
Let the man think he was grovelling.

"Gilles!" he called as he picked up the small piece of paper and waved it a little bit so that the ink would dry before he folded it once and handed it to the servant that moved swiftly to stand by his side. "Have this note delieved to Marquess Berini's suite immediately."

"Immediately, Your Highness", Gilles confirmed, and then quickly left the suite to carry out the order.

'Alea iacta est'.
No more than half an hour later, there was a firm knock on the door, and Gilles, who by now had returned to his master's suite, declared that the Prince had a visitor. Having waited on the bed, leaning back against the many and soft pillows, and reading a book to pass the time, Octavien smirked to himself.

"Please send him in", he said and snapped the book shut as he stood, leaving it on the bed to greet his guest over by the comfortable armchairs and the beautifully carved table that were all placed in the centre of his suite.

With a deep bow, Gilles retreated from the door to allow the visitor to pass, and in strolled a nothing short of nonchalant Marquess Berini; tall, dark, and wearing a smirk matching the one that only seconds earlier had curved Octavien's lips. Now, however, it was gone, replaced by a faint but polite smile, with just a hint of agitation. A move most intentional on Octavien's part. As long as the Marquess thought Octavien was ill at ease, he would feel like he was in control, and thus see no reason to be overly rude or threatening.

"Marquess Berini", Octavien said. "Thank you for accepting my invitation. Please, take a seat."

And as the two men sat down to talk, Gilles closed the doors to the suite, cutting of the soft murmer of their voices to anyone that might happen to pass through the upper floor hallway.


(((ooc: Needless to say, he's not approachable at this time.)))

"Well, if it isn't Comte Felix.." Mercy laughed lightly. "I must say I am suprised to see you looking like this my dear Comte... But it is nice to have you back, at least I assume your staying because no one with a title like yours would return looking like that for a flying visit." She winked at the young man, taking a brief break from class boundaries afterall he could hardly object in these circumstances.

"Now how have you been in the time since you left us?" Mercy enquired of the young man, she had never known him well but she felt that was more of an over-sight on her part that more than anything else, after all he was, usually, an attractive and well presented man, she looked him up and down, even dressed like that he still looked good, in fact she had never seen dust and micellanious fluids made to look so good....

((Wow, Mercy ran away with me there.... Dare I say hopeless crush forming ))

Felix
 

I winced at the voice; there was no mistaking that silky trill. Fight or flight mechanism began to kick in - did I take my chances and sprint the last ten yards or so? Perhaps I could claim I had a gutter-dwelling twin, although even that would be detrimental to my reputation. "I must say I am suprised to see you looking like this my dear Comte... But it is nice to have you back, at least I assume your staying because no one with a title like yours would return looking like that for a flying visit." she winked.

"Baroness Mercy Flight," I beamed. My last resort was to try on the ole charm; maybe
the woman would be so stunned by my adoration, I'd have the chance to make a swift getaway. The urgent news I bore laid heavy at the back of my mind. That could wait until I had made myself presentable, I prioritised, but not much longer.

"Now how have you been in the time since you left us?", asked Mercy, eyeing my dirty attire.
"Busy," I replied "Ah, just moments ago I stood outside the palace when a putrid-looking theif attacked me. I suppose he was after my riches, although I never carry those on my person. It took but a few moments to overcome the scoundrel with my manly strenghth, but he appears to have left his traces of" - I sniffed a nasty patch of green - "Cave slime on my person." I fidgetted anxiously. Now was not the time for hold ups. But I couldn't disappear in a cloud of smoke without ensuring my white lie had been swallowed and digested, else the whole court may think me a sewer-dwelling idiot.
"But you, Madame, look even more radiant with every day. I do hope all's well?"

Mercy clicked her teeth together, "hmm well aslong as you are alright and safe now," she glanced him up down, she supposed it was plausible... But Mercy had other things on her mind she smiled at Felix.

"I myself am good my dear man, much better than the banished Duchess, and the rather ill Princess or of course her husband, Prince Octavien who must be going out of his mind with grief..."

Mercy paused for effect to allow these bits and pieces to slip into his mind, he may have heard about Marie, but that wasn't big news in comparrison, the details of the marriage between Octavien and the Princess would of course be common knowledge, and even if the reason wasn't she would not divulge that, the Queen had trusted her with that one. His brothers encounter with the Princess may be known to him but it had been hushed so again she would not approach the subject, however she felt she had given him some news in the way of Adalita's illness which would not have travelled far beyond the Palace gardens.

Mercy wanted to pass on the information, just so the newly returned Comte would realise just who really ruled this Court.

((Shenan sorry if isabella takes offence to that one and Haylifer feel free to shoot Mercy down by telling her it's startilingly old news ))

*Edit*((Thanks Atropa, it's nice to know someone is paying attention to what I type... even if it isn't me :P))

Felix
 

"I myself am good my dear man, much better than the banished Duchess, and the rather ill Princess or of course her husband, Prince Octavien who must be going out of his mind with grief..." said Mercy.

I raised an eyebrow, taking each new fact one at a time. Banished Duchess? Who? What for? I made a note to enquire about this piece of gossip at a later date, but it was the second part of the statement that sparked some intrigue. Or rather, panic. I'd heard of Princess Adalita's union with Octavien on the grapevine whilst on my hiatus, plus a number of other interesting rumours regarding her, but the word "rather ill" struck out like a fist. That fist must have knocked some sense back into me, for I remembered why I had risked life and limb rushing back to the Palace and my mission was not yet complete.

"Octavien's marriage?" I said, my voice a bit too high-pitched to be innocuous. "Yes, how unfortunate for him to be committed to wedlock so young. My dear Baroness, I'm afraid I really must fly now. I have some minor heroics to take care of." I bowed hastily, then disappeared into my suite. I had little time to lose, and an important job to finish. I had to see Queen Isabella as soon as possible; thankfully my manservant was faithfully waiting inside my chamber.

"Pierre, please get word to the Queen that I have returned and consequently must rendezvous with her urgently. Tell her it's possibly an emergency. And for God's sake, stand up a little straighter when you do so, you give the impression of a crooked charlatan."

I waved one hand at him impatiently as he scurried off, then collapsed down into a chair. The only reason I had not fired that peasant Pierre after all these years was his speed and efficiency at moving through the palace. In all other respects, he was a useless imbecile. Hopefully today his message would reach Her Majesty in time. I ran one hand impatiently through my hair, only to find it thick with dust and all other manner of horrors. Mon Dieu, I'd completely forgotten about my appearance! There was hardly time to bathe properly, but a change of clothes was vital.

I then found it proved impossible to concentrate on my actions, so I headed into the washroom, filling the basin with icy water and dunking my head into it. I recoiled a little as I felt the cold freeze my brain. That seemed to refresh my way of thinking, at least. Scrubbing at the grime on my skin and hair, thoughts span dizzily around my head. Adalita was already sick, which had serious implications. The worst news I'd heard today, perhaps. I tried to piece together what I already knew, drawing up conclusions and planning how I could present things. Although, if I took the position of a deluded optimist, this news could be taken as a positive. Yes, it was excellent news, because it meant that there was still time to undo things. I grinned despite myself; I hadn't failed yet. Then I noticed that my undershirt had been put on the wrong way, and cursed.

Finally, I managed to get myself correctly attired, and began to pace the room in apprehension of Pierre's return, muttering idle threats to the absent servant in order to somehow paranormally speed his journey. That blasted peasant, what's taking him so long? I could have sought out Isabella myself, and taken less time. Even if it did bear the risk of decapitation, the risks could be outweighed by the importance of the tale I had to tell.

(( Pierre has apparently been sat waiting in Felix's suite for months now, poor guy. Did they have basins back in 17th century France? Bleh. Rambly post and sorry for abandoning Mercy so rudely, Fayre Felix just remembered he's a man on a mission.))

((Oh i shall forgive him ... until he does something else wrong that is :P))

Isabella
 

((OOC: Swirly, since it’s been more than 24 hours, I’m going to assume Princess Lillian is ready to move on. Fay – Well, if she has to share the title with someone, I suppose Mercy isn’t her last choice. ))

Once Princess Lillian had expressed her gratitude, Isabella was once again alone in her suite. Well, as much alone as a queen could expect to get during the day as the usual servants still milled about. Isabella lowered herself onto an armless chair, taking a few minutes to simply breathe. So much had already gone on this day and it had just begun! So many things swirled around in her mind, she felt as if she were about to drown.

To begin there was Adalita's sudden illness. It had come on so quickly, it was really quite a shock. Thankfully the Palace had been searched, and there didn’t seem to be a soul that donned the same illness. Edouard was in a foul mood, which could be understood. But still, it didn’t make things any easier on the rest of the people that shared the upper floor. Servants were walking on eggshells, and Isabella… Well, she’d hate to come across as cold and cruel, but she had other matters on her mind.

Matters that involved two very different men, for two very different reasons. Marquess Federico Berini, the thought of the man’s name alone brought a disgusted look upon her fair face. The man proved to be an idiot, a brute and perhaps a loon. She had half expected him to visit her late in the night, or this morning. No doubt he would wish to give her one more chance to earn his silence. Perhaps the servants had done their job at keeping the man off the second floor entirely. Isabella hoped so, as the last thing she needed was him going to the King. Though most his verbal assaults were aimed at Isabella, he had only made one threat. A threat aimed at Octavien.

She worried about him. Though last night his words had crushed her spirit, she just couldn’t doubt that what she thought they had just begun to share had been true. He couldn’t fake that look in his eyes all the time. When she had begun to open herself to him the night in his Suite, she saw it, she felt it. He would send for her once he was ready to talk. She just had to be patient. She hoped.

As she had come to that conclusion a servant approached her. “Your Majesty, we have just received a request for your presence…” Isabella’s eyes were about to grow wide at those words, words she had been longing to hear. “… from Comte Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes.”

“What?” the word had escaped her mouth before she could even realize how improper it was. Certainly she had heard the young lady wrong. “Are you certain it was Comte Charentes?”

“Yes your Majesty, that is what his servant had said.” The girl answered meekly.

Isabella came to her feet quickly. Could it be? Her beloved Comte had returned? He had been gone for what seemed to be ages, she had gone on with her life without his humorous antics. She had figured he was gone for good.

“What word shall I send Your Majesty?” the young girl queried cautiously.

Isabella ceased her pacing, waving her hand to the girl to get going. “Yes, of course I will see him. Send word that he is most lucky indeed, as I can meet with him in my Salon.” As the girl hurried to answer the request, Isabella continued to pace lost in thought of what could have possibly brought Felix back to the Palace, but more importantly, why had he left to begin with.

((OOC: Okay Hay… Felix can come up. But, I warn you, Isabella is going to make him wait for her a little while. ))

Octavien
 

The upper floor hallway had been peacefully at rest, ever since Marquess Berini's arrival to the Prince's suite. Half an hour had passed since then, and only a few times had there been the faint sound of footsteps echoing between the sturdy but exquisite walls as servants went on with their daily chores. All was quiet, and almost eerily so. The news of Adalita's poor health hung like a dark cloud of worry over the entire upper floor, it clung to the faces of the servants that occasionally drifted up and down the grand staircase and in and out of the suites. It was almost as though everyone was already in mourning, even though no further word had been issued regarding her state.
But indeed... Those who had seen her were painfully aware that there did not seem to be much hope of a full and speedy recovery. Or even a slow one...

Yet another young servant girl had just quietly left Adalita's suite, when all of a sudden, there was a loud crash coming from behind the doors to the suite right across the hall - the newly crowned Prince Octavien's suite. The muffled sound of raised voices defied the thickness of the wood, and moments later, the silence shattered completely as Gilles burst through the doors.

"Help!" he cried in a voice ragged with horror and desperation. "Murder! Murder!"

His wild eyes locked on the terrified girl who seemed to have frozen to the spot the moment the doors had flung open, and was now clasping the tray she was carrying so tightly that the color of her fingers was draining so quickly, it was only outdone by the rosey hue of her cheeks.

"What are you waiting for, you stupid girl?!" Gilles yelled at her. "Go get help, the Marquess is murdering the Prince!"

Though his cries had already attracted the attention of everyone on the floor - and everyone nearby the staircase under it as well - and they all came swarming into the upper hallway. Some realized what was happening faster than others, confusion and deafening chatter filling the air before another desperate outcry from Gilles forced them to take action. As an army of servants, courtiers and guards stormed into the Prince's suite, they saw Octavien slumping to the floor with his back against the wall, his left hand covered in blood and just dropping from a gushing cut on his right shoulder. The Marquess a few yards away, by the table and a chair that had been knocked over, just staggering to his feet to the soft, clanging noise of a bloody dagger slipping out of his grasp and hitting the floor.

"Seize him!" Gilles roared, pointing accusingly at the Marquess. "He tried to murder the Prince!"

Marquess Berini's eyes widened as he saw several burly guards come towards him, looking far less pleasant than they had the night before, and he drew a quick breath as if about to protest. He could do no more, as the very next moment he was grabbed and quickly overpowered, rendered unable to move a muscle in the firm grip of the guards.

In the meantime, Gilles had rushed to Octavien's side, grabbing the first thing he could find in the process - a small cloth on a nearby table - to try and stop the bleeding. With shakey hands he tried to press it against the wound, but found himself to be dismissed by the Prince himself, who for obvious reasons seemed determined to act strong and calmly collected, and keep his dignity infront of the large, previously horror-stricken and now increasingly agitated audience that had gathered in and around the doorway.

"Take him to the scaffold!" someone in the noisy crowd shouted; a voice that was soon joined by others.

As was to be expected, the people called for immediate retribution, for justice to be done. No trial was needed, for they had all seen it with their own eyes; an attempt had been made to take the life of their very Prince. Justice should come on swift wings.
But as the guards started dragging the Marquess out of the suite, there was another call.

"Wait!"

With the help of Gilles, Octavien had come to his feet once again, and now stood straight and majestic, speaking with a firmness in his voice that demanded the attention of everyone. Even with the blood that soiled his arm and hands, and keeping the bloody cloth pressed tightly against the wound, he managed to look dignified and regal. A bit disheveled perhaps, with ashen curls coming loose from the velvet ribbon that had tied them back, and clothes that needed straightening, but still every inch a Prince.

"He shall not be sent to the scaffold", he continued, now in a lower voice as the chatter had ceased, but still just as firm. "A man so consumed by jealousy and hatred is not the master of his actions."

As he spoke, his eyes wandered from the crowd to settle on the Marquess, and it was obvious that while he himself may want nothing more than to have the man's head, he would not make himself guilty of the same crime and let his emotions run away with him.

"Take him to the dungeons", he ordered the guards instead, "so that he may calm down, and come to his senses. Then we shall decide his fate."

Then his gaze returned to the Marquess once again, and he motioned a signal for the eager guards to wait yet a few seconds before dragging their prisoner off to his new dark and damp lodging. Apparently, the Prince had something he wanted to say to the man. He approached, and his eyes, although a pale blue, pierced Marquess Berini's with an inner darkness that left him well aware that while his life might have been spared for now, it could come to be the subject of change, should he give the Prince even the tiniest reason.

"Marquess Berini", he said in a voice that had dropped so low only the Marquess and the guards around him could hear. "Know, that from now on, you are alive only because I allow it."

And with that, he took a step back and motioned for the guards to take the prisoner away, not giving him a chance to retort. For his own good, of course.
The still growing crowd parted, much like the Red Sea, allowing the guards to pass on their way down to the dungeons. Some trickled after them, to watch the prisoner and listen to his wild protests, while others stayed to gossip and exchange every minute detail of what they had heard and seen, and others yet stayed to study the Prince, perhaps hoping he would collapse and bring even more drama to the story, or perhaps, although doubtful, to make sure he was alright.
Octavien, however, soon proved to be a most uncooperative participant, as he ordered his servants to usher everyone out of his suite, and leave him to recover in peace.

The morning finally came, and Roseline was rudely aroused from the comfort of her bed by the heavy velvet curtains that normally blocked out the unwanted light, being pulled apart. Roseline’s eyes fluttered for a moment at the light appearing behind her lids, and she finally opened them fully to see Louisa, her maid standing innocently by her bed. With a chirpy ‘good morning’ Louisa rushed off, happy that Roseline was actually up at the right time.

Morning’s used to be something that Roseline would look forward to, a new start but recently have become less desired by her tired mind which simply wished to stay in bed. With a small sigh, Roseline lifted her still tired body out of the warm sheets reluctantly, taking her time to fully wake herself until she could put it off no longer in fear of missing the morning announcements, the one thing that did cause Roseline to force herself up.

A short time later, her fair hair had been fastened up and her bedclothes had been replaced by a day dress. Finally, she made the short walk towards the Grand Salon, thinking of other things than the announcements. The sky was overcast, yet again, which forced already bored courtiers into the confines of the Palace walls.


--


At last, Roseline made her way out of the crowded Salon and into the crowded corridor directly outside of it. Eventually, Roseline had made her way away from the Salon and the corridor outside of it. She would have gone outside, like she did when the weather was warm enough, if it wasn’t for the threat of rain hanging over the Palace.

Away from the crowds, Roseline began walking along the deserted hallways of the rest of the Palace, finding her thoughts running away from her. Walking was always a good time to allow your thoughts to run away with you, even better when you could not get lost. A conclusion Roseline had come up with some time ago, after an unfortunate walk in the forests surrounding the Palace. Yes, even if she would prefer to be outdoors, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about getting lost inside, as she had to do out.

Her thoughts finally landed on the Princess. Everyone in the Palace, even the whole Kingdom was worried for her health. No one thought for one second that she would not make a fast, full recovery but it always did shock the Kingdom when a member of the Royal Family became ill. The poor girl had only just said her wedding vows, and now was confined to her Chambers, to hopefully rest up and come back to her duties as soon as possible. Yet again though, Roseline found herself worrying about the Princess’ new husband, Octavien. What an awful situation that he was in now. His new wife down with illness, while he tried to come to terms with the fact that he now was a married man, a married man to the Princess no less. Her thoughts were everywhere this morning. On wanting to congratulate Baroness Flight… on thinking of all the new blood that will come into Court any given date, and of course the Princess and her new husband.

Finding herself come round in a full Circle, Roseline passed the Grand Salon again, yet this time it was much less crowded, occasional groups of courtiers milling about at the sides while others walked briskly past, with people to see and places to be. She had just walked past the ornate staircase leading up to the top floor, when she heard the shout.

"Help!" Came a male’s voice from the floor above, causing every courtier on the floor below to stop, some even rushing up the stairs before he had finished the word. "Murder! Murder!"

Roseline suppressed a gasp. Surely someone wouldn’t joke about such a serious matter? No, the voice sounded completely serious, but her mind quickly moved onto the prospect of who it was that was in trouble. The Princess? The Queen or King? Octavien? Any of them could be in grave danger right this moment. Roseline stopped dead for a second, only to come back to her senses as a Comte of some sort barged past her to have his moment in glory, and to help whoever was in trouble.

Roseline looked up the grand staircase, which was already packed, many people obviously not all being able to fit onto the top floor. She moved towards it, taking her place on one of the steps near the bottom, not wanting to turn away and be seen as someone who would not protect her Royal Family.

The sound of voices grew, the news of what had happened running down the mass of courtiers trying to get as close as possible to the drama. ‘The Prince. It was the Prince!’ Someone told the courtier next to her, before the pair dissolved into quick, quiet French.

“Seize him” The same deep male voice came, booming down the stairs. "He tried to murder the Prince!" Came the confirmation that everyone waiting needed before a loud chatter drifted up from the crowd. Roseline simply tried to listen, she wasn’t close enough to see what was happening but it was easy to get the picture as the news spread through the mass like wildfire.

Someone close by shouted to take him to the scaffold, which sent another burst of chatter into the air, but Octavien’s voice, almost drowned out by the insistent chitter-chatter of the courtiers, came firmly to give the guards some order.

Then, everything happened quickly, Roseline found herself being pushed backwards against the banister as the rest of the courtiers moved back to make way for the culprit, who was now being restrained by two muscular guards and just as quickly as it had appeared the crowd dispersed into nothing, only a couple of clusters left talking in this corridor, though Roseline doubted that there weren’t others talking elsewhere, about the drama that had just happened.

Roseline seemed to understand what had happened all at once, realising that she was stood, no longer being pushed back against the banisters and looked up the beautiful staircase to see Octavien’s door being firmly shut.

With a worried nibble at her bottom lip, Roseline took the couple of steps back down to the main floor slowly and stopped at a small window in the hallway. Her eyes drifted across the gorgeous gardens as she found her attention once again being drawn away from her.


((Approachable =]))

The return of Duchesse Annelise De L'Orrine.
 

{{Check out this nerd...No, really. My formerly decidely gone character has returned! Haha, what great news! I think...}}

{{Bah humbug...double post!}}

Name: Annelise De L'orrine

Age: 24

Title: Duchess

Personality: Annelise has recently returned to the court and is very happy to see her home once more! She will enjoy her usual activties, which include jests and many other things.

Felix
 

96.. 97.. 98..
I counted each click of the heel as I paced the floor, trying to keep my calm and attractive head on. With a surge of impatience, I kicked out at a copper bedwarming pan left lying around by those inefficent wenches. The thing sprung open with a clatter, emptying its sooty contents everywhere. Mocking me, damn it! Even my bedwarmer was mocking me.. And Pierre, he was the biggest mocker of them all. Where in God's name was the greasy charlatan? If he didn't return soon, I would have to take action and go find him myself. Which is precisely what I did; readying myself, I stormed through the door with such force that I knocked an equally focused Pierre to the floor.

"Pierre?" I blinked, as he lay sprawled across the floor and spoke in a somewhat irritated tone.

"The Queen permits you to speak with her, in her Salon." he said, propping himself up with his arms.

"What are you sitting down for? Chop chop, man! Call the chambermaid too when you get chance, I think you must have knocked the warming pan over on your way out last time." He scurried to his feet and back where duty called like a loyal little rat. Disregarding his impertinence, I hurried along the corridors to the staircase, passing a mirror along the way. Noticing my hair was being it's usual rebellious self, I reasoned that a few minutes wouldn't hurt anyone and set about making it at least slightly tidy. There... Felix, you dashing young man. How do you keep the ladies off you? I winked briefly to my reflection before setting off again. Damn these distractions, I needed to focus! Focus on what I was meant to be doing. And it didn't help that coming the opposite direction down the stairs was a pretty young lady who was undoubtedly a new face around court. Hold your tongue, man. Keep straight ahead.

"Why hello there beautiful, I don't believe we've met?" Curse my inability to keep quiet. I flashed her a winning smile. "Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes, Comte de Cognac, at your service my lady. And who have I the pleasure of meeting?"

"Comtesse Fleur Baisez-Corazón," she replied, fanning herself. Undoubtedly I'd also be fanning myself if I were so hot.

"I do believe you're a new face around court, Comtesse?" I said, waggling my eyebrows knowingly. She nodded. "Then it would only be proper for me to offer you a tour of the divine attractions of this palace." My conscience immediately chastised me for the suggestion, giving me a mental slap around the ears. The Queen would be furious with me for making an appointment and then becoming sidetracked; if she wasn't already so, for my disappearing in the first place. And then when she realised I had such vital news.. I paled noticably.

"Good Lord, is that the time?" I squawked, pretending to notice some invisible clock. "My lady, I think I possibly have an urgent appointment elsewhere. Consider me in your debt; I owe you that tour." I winked, bowed quickly, then again attempted my ascent of the staircase.

Finally I reached the top of the stairs, swinging around the corner and nearly crashing through the doorway to Her Majesty's salon in hastiness. Righting my balance, I gave the wood three smart taps and waited for that pretty servant girl (whom I'd got to know rather well) to see me in.

((littlesunshine123xx: Let me know if you didn't want Fleur used a little bit there I'll change it. Felix demanded further distractions. I possibly think he's purposefully looking for them. Oh and big yay! No more exams So surely I have no excuses for crappy RP posts like this, but yoink, I've promised myself no thinking tonight. I'm exhausted.))

Isabella
 

((OOC: Hay- lol As soon as I saw littlesunshine’s app… I knew Felix would find a way to get to know her!))

Isabella had just commenced her steady, rhythmic pacing pondering the most intelligent way to question Comte Felix. Yes, he had been her closest ally in the kingdom, but he had been gone. She needed to tread with great caution till she established that his motives and intentions had not changed during his absence.

It was not long before the same servant that had forwarded the Comte’s request returned announcing that he now waited for her in her Salon. “Thank you.” Isabella responded. “I shall arrive, when I arrive.” Isabella had decided to make the poor man sweat a little. She had been excited to hear he had returned, but there was no reason for him to know that. If the man thought that perhaps she did not regard him as highly as she once did, he’d be easier to read. It saddened her that she now was treating him as such, but, when you held the position that she did, you had to be careful.

After fifteen minutes had passed Isabella slowly left her suite and sauntered to her Salon. As the doors were opened, she immediately spotted him standing by the fine selection of wine that sat in the corner of the room. She found it quite humorous, but hid the fact very well. He turned around suddenly, as if he were a kid that had been caught in a candy store. “Why, Comte” she began. “Which have you missed more during your absence, your Queen, or her beverages?” Isabella’s brow was quirked in an accusatory way.

As soon as he answered her question a sound penetrated the walls of her salon. Isabella’s head turned in instinct to see what had interrupted her turn to speak. Thanks to the sturdy construction of the Palace, the sound had seeped through as a muffle, but the urgency in the voice managed to pierce through when the volume had not. Again, another yell had been given in the halls of the upper floor. Isabella’s entire body turned in its direction, yet she hadn’t moved towards the door yet. With silence in the room, and her ears intently listening, she thought she deciphered a few words… Marquess? Murder? Prince!?!

With that Isabella no longer waited in curiosity, instead she fled in fear. Moving as swiftly as her large dress allowed her, she flung the salon door open, much as it had been thrown open the night before. She stepped into the hall which had become crowded with onlookers. It seemed people crawled out from the cracks of the Palace, never had she seen so many servants and nobles standing side by side in a crowd. Her head turned to the direction of the west wing. Again, she heard the same voice cry out.

“Seize him!” the voice roared.

I know that voice.

“He tried to murder the Prince!”

“Giles.” The word had seeped out as a whisper between her lips automatically. She knew his voice, as she had heard it when he escorted her safely to her suite after the night she had spent with his master. The next name from her lips came naturally, not hushed as the first had been. “Octavien!”

She fought to push her way through the crowd that had gathered. “Take him to the scaffold!” someone cried out, which was only the first in what soon became a deafening chant calling for the death of the Marquess.

Isabella’s face was deathly pale even for her fair skin. She knew the Marquess to be many things, but never did she think he would attempt to murder Octavien. He was a lowlife, the sort of scum that reveled in playing dirty. Going to the King with his suspicions was right up his ally. She didn’t think his jealousy would lead him to make an attempt on the Prince’s life. If he were to kill anyone, she thought surely it would have been her life he’d want. The thought of Octavien being killed because of her was too much to bear. She just had to get to him, she had to find out if Federico had succeeded. Was that his goal to begin with? If he could no longer have her, she would have no one?

“Let me through!” she demanded, wishing the fools would just part, allowing her to pass through. As she determined she’d force everyone aside, she suddenly felt someone stopping her, pulling her back. Isabella turned, ready to banish whoever it was that was stopping her from being by Octavien’s side.

((OOC: The person who pulls her back, knows who he is. So, sorry, not approachable at this moment. ))

((Mercy and I made a descision no more writing about the water potential of a potato, however sadly I haven't had a chance to read everyone's long posts... I will though I promise!!!!!!))

"Good day my dear may I be of assistance? You seem slightly lost." Mercy approached the young woman who seemed in some way familiar to her ((Annelise)). Hmmmm who is she Mercy pondered and narrowed her eyes slightly, when the woman began to turn she switched from thoughtful to brightly smiling.

She hoped she hadn't disturbed the young girl from important ponderings but Mercy was feeling helpful today and this woman did seem without a real direction staring out of the window as she was. It was when the face of the young woman was turned to her it hit her just why this woman was familiar she was indeed a Duchess, of the court, more memories came back and her eyes widdened slightly, though her smile refused to faulter.

(((ooc: Fayreview - Oh boy. I think Mercy might just kick your behind.
And uhm.... Silvius lost TWO of the ONLY loves of his life? Talk about a contradiction in terms... *lol*)))

((OK. Now I have to back track and see what you've all been doing ta Atropa I hate to be in the dark :P. If I'm honest I was ploughing back through the old thread for the details on Annelise, only to remember i already know her scandal shock horror whilst i was at it i found the first thought Queen ever had about Mercy:

"However Madame Flight had a reputation of her own making as well, of being the nosiest woman alive. Queen Isabella knew very well, she could never allow Madame Mercy too close to her."

Well it's nice to know opinions change huh ))

"I, Duchesse, am Baroness Flight. But of course I can escort you to your chambers."

((Shenan I'm assuming here that they were kept ))

Mercy smiled to the younger woman and with a bow of the head, began to lead the way. "It is so nice to see you once again in our Court, though your introduction was unnecessary I remembered you as soon as I saw your beautiful face." Yes she remembered something, hwever she wasn't going to bring it up the poor girl seemed lost here and perhaps her past should stay past. "I do hope everything went alright with whatever drew you away from us."

((Oh dear, I shall have to make up some sort of convo with an NPC later for Mercy to get the details of all that.... *sighs* Atropa you just couldn't make my life easy could you? :P))

((Well Shenan bebding time is just as good huh? Oh well I'm having a REALLY rough week it seems so this is the the only roleplay that has had any maintenance from yours truely! so think yourselves lucky!!!!!!!!))

((Well i think shameless advertising is good Shenan! After all you weren't the only one to try and "nag" Haylifer about a certain characters return I say "nag" as I nag, you may call it what you wish!))

"Yes there are some amazing people in this court." Mercy refused to say nice, the levels of Irony were just too much! "Well i personally am most glad to welcome you back, we recently lost a Duchess you see, mind you that was for the most terrible of behaviour." Mercy smiled at Annelise as they reached the door. The woman seemed distarcted and at slight dis-ease around herself. Mercy did not think of this as a bad thing.

"But of course we do not expect a repeat of that, and especially not from a fine young woman such as yourself." Mercy was pleased that she had seen the young woman early, it paid to remind new comers of her presence, even if both Annelise and Felix were more 'returners' than new comers. They had been reminded in some way of Mercy's existence and of her power.

She nodded at Annelise and had begun to walk away when a pale and flushed Helena rushed up to her. From the urgency with which Helena gripped Mercy's hand she sensed she should hurry. Once a safe distance, helena proceeded to fill her in on a rogue man in the court and an attack on the Prince. What was happening with the Prince? She had wondered before and now she was forced too again, Mercy decided to seek out a guard to see what they knew of the matter.

((Sorry RubyAmbition feel free to Call mercy back if you wish or to be upset with her, but as a gossip she is drawn like a moth to the flame, and a faithful servant chat was the only thing I could think to do!))

Felix
 

"He tried to murder the Prince!" came a yell from nearby. Murder? There was a murderer in the palace, a dangerously immoral revolutionist no doubt, who could be on a trail of destruction through the whole of court! Thankfully, the word 'tried' held some positive implications. Octavien wasn't dead, and the murderer was likely to be unskilled at his trade. The word Marquess could also be heard multiple times. Whoever this Marquess person was, and whatever business he had in the Palace.. Surely he was yet another deranged buffoon, jealous over Octavien's recent marriage to the Princess. The Princess. What with her misfortune, and now the Prince; how romantically tragic.

Merde. Something was definitely awry out there, and whether it be murder or not, it didn't sound good. If that man got anywhere near Isabella.. God only knew what could happen. We'd have a case of treason; and I would have lost my beloved Queen, along with her especially lovely collection of beverages. Thankfully, she was safely up here in the Salon, protected by not only scores of armoured guards, but my skilled expertise in negotiation. I breathed a sigh of relief, turning to the Queen to comment on the commotion.

"Isabella?" My eyes darted around the room: gone... The Queen wasn't anywhere to be seen. And if she wasn't up here where it was safe, then...

My heart leapt in panic, as adrenaline forced me to run forwards, towards the doors which were still swinging from Isabella's departure. I sprinted across the gallery, nearly crashing into the wall opposite. The crowd of spectators could be heard audibly now, their panicked voices claiming fear for their lives. If only the Queen had the same sense of self-danger. Then, I heard her voice above all others, crying Octavien's name as she attempted to push through the frightened crowd.

No time to spare, I fought my way through the crowds after her, hot on the heels of that speeding flurry of royal lace. Did she not understand there was a murderer on the loose? A lunatic deserving of the gallows? There was no other way. I valued the Queen's life far too much to allow her to pass through that crowd easily. Even if she didn't.

With a surge of chivalric strength I didn't know I posessed, I managed to wrestle the gossiping courtiers aside and catch hold of the Queen by the arm. It took some effort restraining her; the woman turned out to be quite strong for such a lady of grace.

"Let go of me!" she cried, turning around with eyes full of fiery determination. "I must see what-"

"I can't let you, Your Majesty" I said, with an attempt to impose some heroic chivalry in my voice as I pulled her a few steps away from the crowd and the dangers behind it.

"I order you to unhand me, Felix!" came the reply, not a fraction of the level-headed, calm Queen Isabella the court knew her to be as she struggled to free herself. "That's an order, you hear!"

Did I dutifully follow orders, ever the loyal sidekick to Isabella's every word? I couldn't. I couldn't live with myself if I messed up here.

"And put you before a murderer? With all due respect Your Majesty, as a Comte I do believe it's my orders to protect you with my life. He'll try kill you too if you give him the chance. I regard your life with the highest value, even if you don't."

I glanced to the heart of the action; this Marquess person was being held by at least twenty guards, and being dragged away. I let out a small sigh of relief that at least he was no longer a threat. Octavien was nowhere to be seen, though.

((Blahhh, sucky and rambling and no good, I know, but it's late and I've had a few drinks now and I can't rightly concentrate. Pfft Fayre, shameless nagging? Heh, I require no nagging, how could I resist it? Anyway.. bed now. :howdy: Goodnight, courtiers!))

((Ahh thanks Atropa. I'll fix that, although I'm currently using a keyboard literally 2 inches wide. May take some time. Can we not pretend Octavien was snooping around someone elses suite when it happened? :p))

((EDIT: I'll leave it until the morning when I get access to a proper PC rather than trying to get the iPhone to scroll down the editor box... Ew. I somehow managed to get a load of funny squares appear anyway.. Oh well. Everything will be better in the morning ))

Isabella - Upstairs
 

((OOC: Friendly reminder, a little less than 24 hours before we move onto the afternoon.
Hay – Post 2 has palace maps. Once you get to a screen that you can actually see on, learn them. Also, since I have time tonight, I thought I’d go ahead and reply as if you changed that post of yours. See how much faith I have in you?
Fay… You may nag, but I simply asked. Only once! lol
Glad to see so many familiar faces return, and new ones appear. May we all create wonderful twisted storylines together!))

The crowd was thick, every eye and mind was on the Prince’s Suite and what was happening inside it. Including Isabella’s. The possibility that Octavien could be dying before they had come to terms with each other was gnawing at her mind and at her heart. She could not allow that to happen. She was not going to be left on this pathetic world the rest of her life knowing that it was her fault that his life had been taken.

All those thoughts had taken over her. She had felt rage before in her life, but this, this emotion, it was different. All her past moments of rage had been because of something done to her. She was double crossed, insulted, or perhaps underestimated. Never had a rage been born out of her concern for another person.

So when her arm had been firmly grasped, it was with blinded eyes that she turned, hissing demands. “Let go of me!” Her head spun around landing upon Comte Felix. Her eyes narrowed, communicating abundantly clear her displeasure at being held back. “If you know what’s best for you-“

“I can’t let you, Your Majesty!” he interrupted her, pulling her back from the crowd.

Isabella still couldn’t see clearly, all she saw was this pathetic little man, stopping her. Why in the world was he stopping her? A command! She thought quickly. If it was one thing the man understood, it was orders. “I order you to unhand me Felix!” she followed through on her thought as she attempted to pull away from him. “That is an order!”

“And put you before a murderer? With all due respect Your Majesty, as a Comte I do believe it’s my orders to protect you with my life.” Felix’s words had begun to penetrate her anger, beckoning to the rational woman that was buried underneath. “He’ll try to kill you too if you give him the chance. I regard your life with the highest value, even if you don’t.”

His words bounced around in her mind, as she struggled to take a deep breath. She had stopped pulling with all her might, so when she snapped her arm back from the Comte, he had allowed her the freedom from his grasp she so desperately wanted. She looked around as she quickly regained her posture, it appeared that everyone but Comte Charantes had their eyes focused on Octavian’s Suite, seemingly oblivious to the fight she had just put up to be in that room. A fight she had lost. Her mind knew that Felix was correct. Who in their right mind would allow the Queen of the kingdom to be near a murderer? One who apparently had the quest of Royal Blood driving him.

With Felix’s eyes still upon her, watching for the slightest sign that she might make a run for it, she stood erect and with her head held high, she purposefully brushed passed him, walking towards the Salon. She did not enter through its doors however, as she still had every intention to gather what information she could. As she turned, she spotted the doors to Eduard’s Salon open as well. The King stood in the doorway of his Salon in the company of palace guards.

Just then she heard the distinct cry of Marquess Berini as he was being drug in her direction, the guards bringing him down the stairs. “I don’t know where that dagger came from!” the lunatic cried out. Obviously grasping at straws. With the amount of eye witnesses the man was a fool to think his charm could buy his freedom.

Isabella grabbed a servant by the arm. “Run at once and see the nature of the Prince’s condition.” The startled girl took a second to comprehend the order she had just been given before running down the hall. She had gotten to the doors just as they were being closed. Once she returned to Isabella, the only news she could give was that she did see Octavien walking deeper into his suite. So he appeared to be okay.

Isabella forced a thank you and turned instantly to enter her salon, leaving Felix to close the doors. She found herself fighting so many emotions it was dizzying. There was the guilt she carried. If she had just allowed the Marquess to indulge in his fantasies one more time, none of this whole horrid mess would have happened. She was scared at what harm he had done to Octavien physically, never mind the harm he had done to their relationship. Most of all she was frustrated. She wanted to be in that room with him. He was there to defend her from Federico in her moment of need, how could she not be with him now?

Isabella suddenly found herself in front of the wine cabinet that Felix had been studying so closely just moments ago. Her thoughts had led her here. She firmly grabbed the long neck of the container and filled a glass. Taking it in her hand, and much unlike normal she downed the whole glass. It had been a long time since she had a good drink. She had been quite content and happy spending her time with Octavien, she had no need of such drinks. But right now, the smooth liquid called to her. She may have managed to gain control of her body, but she struggled to gain control of her emotions. As she poured a second glass, much calmer now than when she had poured the first, Felix’s voice pierced through the silence.

As Isabella’s stare was fixated on the harpsichord, she listened to his words.

((OOC: Hay, I couldn’t decide what to have Felix say. I thought a comment about if she planned to share any of her wine with him, or perhaps he hadn’t seen her drink like that since just before a certain Duc’s death, or even something about him recognizing Federico Berini. So I thought I’d leave it for you to decide. ))

((OOC: Welcome back S2CForums!
With the downtime, and problems some people are having logging in, the morning for our characters will be extended. Afternoon will come about 34 hours from this post.

Also, I'd like to announce that an old friend of the King is on his way to our palace. He seems promising to shake things up a little bit. More information coming soon... ))

((So 'next morning' turned out to be two days later. Oh well. It's pretty much fixed now I think Two days without my beloved Felix! I become far too attached to my RP characters, is that weird? I think I'd cry if some random Marquess had a go at my little Comte. Punch his lights out, too. I'll edit this with a RP when it's spiffed up :D))

Please watch your posts
 

((OOC: You know I love you all. And I hate to be a downer. But now with the new rules of creating a new thread after a RP reaches the 1000 post mark, I have to be a meanie, and ask everyone to remember the rule about spam. (No, not the salty stuff some call food, the little comments made on the forum.) I am enjoying the feeling of us being a big happy family, I'm so glad the forums are up and that my beloved courtiers are around. But please make sure the posts you make are necessary. Thank you!
*runs off to delete her own spam* ))

((Ok Shenan point taken! And yay corner room! Mercy has more windows than she needs but that makes for a nice, bright room huh? I figured she hasn't said anything for a while so here is a boring pointless post for y'all))

Mercy returned to her suite, so a Duchess had returned along with a delightful Comte, it seems people would be around every corner once again, which meant sneaking around would be slightly more complex. She wondered as to what she should do today. The sun was bright, the clouds were perfectly white she did not however feel like riding the house she had "relieved" the last Duchess of so perhaps a wlak instead? yes she thought. what a lovely day for that. It would give her time to think and to wonder just what to do with herself. She needed a new distraction, a hobby if you will.

With her mind vaguely focused on trying some flower arranging she crossed the place gardens to the orangery.

((Approachable))

((Mmmm. As Shenan isn't here I just thought I'd say that one, thoughts are thoughts so whatever your character wants to believe is ok, but it would be helpful if you could OCC so we know YOU aren't confused and it's just your charcters view and two that Atropa is just trying to keep the storyline together, which is why she corrected Ruby as well, its an amiable trait

and on a little note so you all know Mercy is aware of the false marriage because she was talking to Isabella about it.

That being said keep up the good Roleplaying!))

((OOC: Fayreview - thank you for trying to help!
Everyone - I will be bold and say that this RP is a little different than others in that it's storyline is quite twisted. It's what makes it what it is. With the implications of it being full of "secret" backstabbing and what not, it is more important in this rp than others to keep the storyline straight.

We had the big discussion back when regarding Adalita's pregnancy and marriage, where I went back through the posts and rebuilt the timeline. I really don't want to do that again, so please, take the time to know what our characters know and what they don't.

Heck, I've known that Duchess Marie had an affair with Edouard for ages. However to this day Isabella still only suspects it. And that was after finding out she gave Edouard gifts and danced with him at the Masqurade Ball. So please be careful in that aspect.

Onto other things... The King's Old Friend, Dimitri-Josèphe, duc d'Lorraine is due to arrive at the Palace this RP day! We'll have to all give him the proper Palace of Light and Air welcome. (Mercy, that's your cue. ) ))

Felix and Queen Isabella
 

I stood awkwardly in the tense silence, as Isabella walked past me and opened that fine wine cabinet. I watched with a mixture of curiosity and longing for that bottle as she poured its burgundy contents into a glass; understandably the Queen would have a thirst for the alcohol to calm her nerves right now. Who would expect otherwise? Even I, the most level-headed and heroic courtier in Paris, felt thoroughly shaken up by the recent goings-on. I fiddled with my sleeve, waiting for the second glass to emerge from the cabinet eagerly. I was met with disappointment, and mild surprise as the Queen downed her own glass in much shorter time than even my record. Shifting slightly closer, I cleared my throat slightly in order to draw her attention to the poor drinkless Comte who just risked life and limb for her sake, but her attention was too focused on the spirit before her.

As she poured herself a second drink, my mind gently toyed with the idea of telling her where I had been for the past many months, and more importantly why I had returned. I supposed the outcome would be something similar to a nervous breakdown, so decided to hold my tongue. And if she asked, I'd have to come up with some excuse. A good excuse, of course, as not to make her feel like I had abandoned the palace. I didn't dare to imagine what life without my charming self around would be like, however brief the period.

But, I mused to myself, why would a non-fatal assault on Octavien unsettle her so? The two were close, I knew. I'd often seen them together but only assumed that their relationship was merely a friendly one. Though looking at Isabella now, the expression on her face gave away all to clearly that she was deeply concerned about him, and I began to wonder.. was there anything more?

The silence was becoming a bit too heavy, never a good thing after a traumatic event. I knew from experience. Perhaps I ought to lighten the mood a bit, take her mind off things. Or offer some consolance. After all, I'd heard on the continent that sadness was a great aphrodisiac - maybe stress had the same qualities. I hushed that thought. The Queen needed comfort, or humour, or both. Then of course, there was that nagging curiosity to ask about her position with the Prince. Far too bold to ever voice of course, but maybe I could subtley tread around the area and uncover some secrets.. Though knowing my clumsy manner of 'subtleness', I'd end up ejected from court minus a head.

"Château Margaux," I commented, eyeing the bottle speculatively. "Now, I'd recommend my own brand of eau de vie, Your Majesty." I indicated the squat bottle of Cognac nestled away behind other various tincanters. "I doubt anyone could down that liquid at such speed. Here, allow me." It wasn't so much a challenge as a way of directing her attention to my lack of beverage. I took the bottle out, pouring two glasses out and taking one myself. Serving a Queen with Brandy? My conscience questioned me, accusingly. I shrugged it off as a necessity in present situation.

"I think I should act as taster, though. God forbid, Federico the Maniac could have poisoned it and tainted the heavenly flavour." I waggled my own glass and took a sip, passing her the second.

Her lips twitched a little. It could have been a tiny smile, although still looked troubled. Or just a reflex to the strength of the spirit. Once the brandy took hold, that would take care of that matter though. I leaned a little closer, attempting to look sympathetic and kind.

"Oh don't fret, Your Majesty. If I know the Marquess, he is a complete oaf full of ineptitude at nearly everything. I doubt he even knows the correct use of a dagger. He probably suspects them to be fancy toothpicks." I chirped. It was another white lie; I'd only ever met Marquess Berini once before at some majestic ball in Vienna, not even long enough to determine anything except he looked much less dashing than myself, and pout over the number of women he seemed to attract despite.

((Clearly Felix babbles when he's nervous. Shenan, if you want anything changing just PM me and I'll be speedy and not leave it a whole 2 days like last time ))

((EDIT: Welcome to the Palace, Mahenveau Ooh more young girls for Felix to toy around with.. he will be most pleased :D))

Application: The Old Friend
 

Name: Dimitri-Josèphe, duc d'Lorraine
Age: 48
Title: Duc

Personality: Duc Dimitri studied with King Edouard as a youth, and has remained among his closest confidants since. Compared to the light King, Dimitri is as a skeleton of steel patched together in earth and clay, with a similarly inscrutable disposition. A strong believer in a strong King for a strong kingdom, he dedicated his early years to securing the foundations from which Edouard would rule. His preparations were interrupted by the death of his older brother, after which Dimitri was recalled to his family's estate in Lorraine. Although he has remained away from the court ever since, it was no loss to this strict man, who scoffed at the frivolities of the younger nobles and their nonexistent sense of duty to the throne. Despite his stiffness, Dimitri has often made decisions that throw others for a loop, as long as the ends aligned with his own principles.

Description (close-up profile): Grey eyes. Tanned complexion. Dimitri is of above average height and build, but has become skinnier compared to his days in the army. He has several scars on the left side of his face. Light wrinkles line the corners of his eyes and forehead.


Random Pictures :D

Dimitri pays his respects at a grave.
Jehanne explains her new invention, the "eye ring". Enthusiastically.

______

((My RP style: I'm fine if anyone godmods my character into doing minimal things, e.g. drinking some wine, entering a room, bowing to a lady etc. As long as he isn't doing handstands on the palace walls, I'm good.

Glad to be in this RP, let's have lots of scandalous fun! :D))

Isabella & Felix - Isabella's Salon
 

((OOC: I should have stated it clearly when the RP opened to new players that our court is currently in the middle of winter. It’s the second day of the New Year, so please, the only flowers in full bloom are the ones in the Orangery (greenhouse). The gardens are bare, so is the forest.
Hay, I love Felix. Only he would think the situation to be an aphrodisiac for poor Isabella.
Seiza, I’m glad to see Dimitri’s app. Feel free to start RPing with him whenever you like!
*whispers to Fayreview* psst… I think he’s about Mercy’s age ))

Isabella gulped the first glass down, the act forcing her to inhale deeply. One of several she would need to calm her emotions, to start thinking with her head. Felix cleared his throat, reminding Isabella that he was still there. Her ears had heard him, but her eyes focused on the harpsichord, images of Octavien sitting beside her replaying in her mind.

“Château Margaux”, came Felix’s voice, commenting on the beverage she had just downed. “Now, I'd recommend my own brand of eau de vie, Your Majesty.”

Felix’s words were enough to break her stare, as her eyes quickly shifted from the harpsichord to his face. Watching the man cleverly get a drink for himself and use his words to disguise it as his duty to her managed to bring the faintest shadow of a smile to her lips. She sat her glass down and turned towards him, her arms crossing in front of her body. There was no doubt in her mind, this was definitely still the Comte d'Cognac. On the surface he appeared to be a bumbling idiot, but deep within he was a loyal and fine man, unique in every way.

By time he handed her the glass of brandy he had poured, Isabella’s pulse had managed to slow. She took a small sip while he continued talking of Marquess Berini’s lack of ability to wield a weapon, her eyes widening as she swallowed. She watched him intently as he talked, she decided that he had been through enough, she would not be as harsh with him as she had planned originally. She sat her glass down having only taken one sip, “I have so missed your antics Felix.” She commented sincerely.

Her voice clearly testified to the fact that the events that had just unfolded still distracted her. She however purposed that after her meeting with Felix was through, she would find a suitable cover to check on Octavien. She slowly walked towards a chaise lounge choosing to not discuss the particulars of what had just taken place. “Many things have changed while you’ve been gone Comte.” She turned towards him, lowering her body to sit. “While I do appreciate the fact that you have returned, I wish to know what kept you away, and more importantly why you’ve returned.”

She looked towards him earnestly, watching his body language intently. While she really did wish to know such things, she struggled intensely to keep her mind on her current surroundings. She was well aware that Felix knew her well enough, he could tell her focus was not on him, and she was thankful to know that he was one of the few she could trust with that fact.

*edit* for post below
:laugh: Oh my goodness... now that's an image. Mercy seducing the King. As long as Mercy does her part to keep Edouard in the dark about Octavien, I'm sure she wouldn't mind too much. I can see it now. Isabella calls for Mercy. "I'm going to go spend time with Octavien, will you go distract Edouard?" Oye... that would bring "twisted" a whole new meaning!

((Oh dear! It seems you an I are on exactly the same wave length Shenan! Yup, in fact Mercy, Dimitri and Edouard are all vaguely the same age. But seducing the king sadly is not possible. It also would not do much for Mercy and Isabella's friendship, so that is why she has never tried XD))

((OOC: Im totally lost lol i have no idea what is going on, i want to rp but unsure what to right and who to try and approach. Cud someone pm whats happened. I;m so sorry ive been sick and the board down and stuff and i dont want to drop out cause this looks good))

Dimitri and Fayre - Palace Courtyard, before the Orangery
 

It was the first afternoon of the second day of the new year. A fine day for feasting and dancing in a splendid palace, but the same could not be said for travelling across the countryside at breakneck speed. His carriage wheels clattered dangerously against the hard ground, threatening to break at any moment. The frost had not quite thawed from the road, nor from the leaves, or the eyebrows of peasants he flew past; and it seemed that every new year a little more of the chill seeped a little deeper into his bones.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, but such were the conditions in which Duc Dimitri-Josèphe thrived, and he had never been more awake since this sordid trip started.

They had requested—nay, begged!—him to delay his trip until the ice cleared. But the Duc had to only glance once at the pathetic sun struggling through the grey sky, and his mind was made. To his shame and horror, he was already several days late for Princess Adalita Rotherham’s momentous wedding—now he was but one town away from the palace, the closeness was too much to bear. It would be the head for anyone who would deign to delay him even further!

Dimitri only slept a few hours in his bumbling, bouncing carriage, but his eyes were sharp and clear as the driver alerted them to the Palace of Light and Air. They had taken the Duc’s shortcut, and would round the Orangery, barely skim the Palace Gardens and come to a skidding, halting stop in the grand Courtyard.

He was not an impatient man, but even Dimitri could not ignore some desires. He ordered the driver to quicken their speed. He imagined the palace must be steeped in celebrations and gaiety by now: there was Adalita’s wedding, the New Year parties, and Christmas season was not yet over. All he wanted, however, was to see the young princess married...

A strangled yell tore through the Palace Courtyard.

Dimitri recognised the evasive movement his driver was swinging into. It was the motion of one trying to avoid running over something alive. An animal? A palace hand? He laid one hand upon the carved door, calmly moving in motion with the heaving carriage. Images of the Palace’s Rose Garden, covered in ice and frozen in time, whizzed by his window. The carriage fumbled and clattered and tilted dangerously to one side for a split-second, before regaining its balance with an innocuous ‘thump’ of wheel hitting cobblestone.

Dimitri stepped calmly into the biting outside air, looking for the animal deemed worthy of such precaution. He saw the reason his driver was practically shaking in his seat—it was no animal, nor even a servant; they had almost run over a woman.

The Duc needn’t issue orders: while he swiftly moved to her, his boots stamping heavily into the thin layer of snow; his swarthy aid left to seek servants and the palace physician. Dimitri knelt beside the shaking madame, grey eyes checking for any major injuries even as he offered her his support, his arm and his apologies. He fired off questions at a rapid yet steady rate, aimed at calming her down.

“Are you all right, Madame? My deepest apologies, I have travelled for long nights and neither of us saw you approaching. Where are you hurt? Can you stand?”

______

((Take it away, Fayre! Ohhh, what is this about Dimitri and Mercy's similar ages? Perfectly innocent OOC chat, I'm sure

littlesunshine: Basically, Adalita is sick and someone tried to murder the Prince earlier this morning. Wonderful start for the palace's new year, aye? If you want, you can have your character witness our near-accident in the Courtyard or approach Amelie, a fellow new arrival, in the palace itself.))

Mercy - Like a Dear in the Headlights XD
 

Mercy sighed, she wondered if she could manage proper flower arranging, she had done it that very morning of course but Helena had already chosen the blooms she had merely move the bouquet about a little to make it look co-ordinated.

Mercy recognised a sound. She turned. A strangled yell tore through the Palace Courtyard.

The Baroness was, for the second time in recent days sprawled upon the floor the carriage skittered off to the left swaying slightly, it fumbled and clattered and tilted dangerously to one side for a split-second, before regaining its balance with an innocuous ‘thump’ of wheel hitting cobblestone, Mercy's eyes narrowed, she sadly could not get up in this dress, so she sat there on the ground in the snow, a particularly expensive Blue dress she had been given by a Duchess no less.

She was still sat on the floor trying to look dignified when a man stepped out of the carriage, he looked around for slightly longer than Mercy would have liked, what was he wishing for a twenty year old to have almost hit? His eyes finally met hers.

The man's companion darted into the castle. How she hoped she needn't seek medical attention because whilst they were at itging her mustard poultices and sour concoctions, they'd probably give her leeches for the cut on her cheek as well, all she really needed was a drink. He swiftly moved to her, his boots stamping heavily into the thin layer of snow and knelt beside him she looked up at him with anger in mind, however he knelt beside her in the snow, she shivered and then cursed herself inwardly for doing so.

His dazzling grey eyes checking for any major injuries even as he offered her his support, his arm and his apologies. He fired off questions at a rapid yet steady rate, making sure was alright or just making sure she wasn't about to become hysterical?

“Are you all right, Madame? My deepest apologies, I have travelled for long nights and neither of us saw you approaching. Where are you hurt? Can you stand?”

"Well why don't we try, the pain of standing is preferable over being a Baroness sat on cobblestones in the snow." Several men erupted through the Palace doors. Among them she recognised the man she had frequently seen opening doors on the top floor of the palace, and thankfully Helena. She was lifted to her feet, she winced as yesterday's bruise was still present on her arm. In truth she did not look fine and could quite easily cause some trouble for this new man, Helena came towards her and she gave a whispered message for delivery to the Queen.

She turned back to the man, "I am just a little bruised. I have suffered worst injuries Ballroom dancing. That is not to make light of the situation it just so happens that my late husband was a terrible dancer. Now perhaps you would help a Lady to her room?" Mercy still did not know how to treat this man. He was handsome and seemingly nice but he had just run her over so she couldn't be sweet even if it gave her a chance to be more familiar.

Dimitri and Mercy, arm in arm XD
 

"Well why don't we try, the pain of standing is preferable over being a Baroness sat on cobblestones in the snow."

Dimitri was momentarily shocked by her reply—he had expected weeping and much hitting of chest with flowery handkerchiefs, which he deemed perfectly acceptable in light of the near-accident that had happened. But Madame had instead presented him a glib tongue in the face of such pain. If it would not have been so impolite (or if she had been a man), Dimitri would have chuckled and landed a solid, encouraging slap on her shoulder.

But she was a woman, and so the Duc wrapped one arm around her small back to help her up, his other hand clutching her own. He still had a bit of mass on him, and could serve as a steady anchor until she could stand on her own... or until a swarm of servants rushed at them through the palace doors.

He let her go when her own girls came to support her.

As they spoke to one another, Dimitri turned to his own aid, who had returned as silent as the night. But even within the crowd, one could pick out the latter’s oak-brown complexion. Switching to childlike French, uncommon even among servants, Dimitri ordered, “I wish to make certain that the Madame is all right. Have the bags taken in. I shall meet the King before dinner.”

His aid bowed and left, just in time. The lady was addressing him.

"I am just a little bruised. I have suffered worst injuries Ballroom dancing. That is not to make light of the situation it just so happens that my late husband was a terrible dancer. Now perhaps you would help a Lady to her room?"

“It is the least I could do, Madame.” The Duc offered his arm, guiding them slowly through the throng of servants still milling about. If they did not recognise him, he was nonetheless able to part them like the Red Sea, simply with a stare. He adjusted his long strides according to her capacity.

“When you are in the condition to, I hope to acquire the name of the maker of your lovely dress,” Dimitri spoke lightly. He was neither a chatty man nor a stoic one, but it would help to gauge her condition based on her response to him. “It protected you well. The army could use such talent.”

From his side, he could see the ugly scar marring her face. He had seen the bruise on her arm, and it disturbed him greatly to think that he had put both there. His tone was still pleasant, but his eyes lingered on the gash, “My apologies, I seem to be committing errors frequently today. I am Dimitri-Josèphe. Now you know the name of the man who almost ran you over.”

A pity; he hadn't wanted anyone knowing his name until he'd had time to greet the King and Queen. He had omitted any clue-giving titles and estates, but the lady deserved at least a name to curse in the privacy of her chambers.

Mercy & Dimitri - Coiness is best used by virgins at their first dance, ah well!
 

“It is the least I could do, Madame.” The Duc offered his arm, and with great dignity and authority he lead her slowly through the group of people who had been called to her aid. Despite how she looked she was actually quite proud so many people can to see her, before she reflected that they perhaps had come for the sake of laughing at her. He adjusted his long strides according to her capacity, the perfect gentleman well really he had to be nice to her considering.

“When you are in the condition to, I hope to acquire the name of the maker of your lovely dress,” Dimitri spoke lightly. “It protected you well. The army could use such talent.”

Mercy gave a half laugh "oh you will be getting her name, along with a bill for repairs, for this particular dress was a gift from the Duchess de Clothide Parma and I shall expect you to have it returned to its previous condition." she sought to work out how much of a sense of humour her new companion had, she wasn't joking and hecould not refuse, but he could take it three ways with anger, genuine remorse or in jest, she sensed his response. ((Left this open so you can decide what his response will bethough if i have a feel for the way this character is going I have an inkling as to the response.))

Her blue eyes sparkled with the mans attention, she felt her study him, he then spoke again his tone still pleasant, but his eyes lingered on the gash, “My apologies, I seem to be committing errors frequently today. I am Dimitri-Josèphe. Now you know the name of the man who almost ran you over.”

"Well Dimitri-Josephe" she stretched it slowly as if to mock his first name. "You may call me Baroness Venn," she gave her maiden name, in the situation it just seemed right, it had come to her tongue so freely. "The cut is not your fault of course, and neither is the bruise on my arm" she said without looking at him she gazed forward down the passage too soon they would turn past the blue salon and be upon the step of her own rooms. "I had a mishap yesterday with a vase. Thankfully the Queen was kind enough to forgive me for it." Her door appeared in front of her, "I have always loved that painting" she pointed to a mountain scape on the outer wall of the Blue Salon, she paused and let him look at it. If he ever wished to seek her company again that painting would tell him he was in the right place. "Well I shall let you return to your business. It has been... interesting," without even waiting for Dimitri-Josephe to respond she had slipped through her door and closed it gently in his face, she smiled inwardly but chided herself, he was handsome and rather charming but apparently he felt no need to disclose his position in society to her, which emant he did not have one, or he did not wish to talk about it...

((Hope that's OK Seiza. Just to be confusing you have a woman's title and a maiden name which is only known by one member of the court, Baroness Taylor and i have the first name of a mysterious name who will always be reffered to as Duc d'Lorraine, so really your only chance of getting some recogntion is to mention the incidents, either the running over or the vase collisionwhich of course the Queen is aware of (as is the Prince unkknown to you. Wow, talk about a confusing first conversation ))

Dimitri and Mercy - a door in the face!
 

"oh you will be getting her name, along with a bill for repairs, for this particular dress was a gift from the Duchess de Clothide Parma and I shall expect you to have it returned to its previous condition,” the Madame laughed.

Dimitri let his brow rise in genuine interest at the name—if he recalled correctly, she was referring to the famous (or infamous, or both, as was often the case in this country) douarière. Truly, this Madame was not what she seemed: she laughed in the face of pain and ruined dresses, and received gifts from a Duchess.

“I believe myself capable of, if not hiring more careful drivers, at least repairing your brilliant dress, Madame,” the Duc promised. His tone remained light, but there was no frivolity in it. Where the lady was laughing, he could not bring himself to. Dimitri had a strict code of conduct, and ruining women’s dresses was not one of them. This would have to be remedied at the earliest possible time.

“You may call me Baroness Venn.” Ah, now he had a name! That made things much easier. But then, she stopped before her room. “Well I shall let you return to your business. It has been... interesting.”

The door closed with a rather final, resounding click.

Dimitri remained staring at it, unperturbed. Then he spoke, knowing his deep voice would carry over, as if speaking to slabs of thick wood were an everyday normality for him. “It has been my pleasure, Baronness Venn. As soon as I have settled my affairs, I shall seek you out about your dress at your earliest convenience.” He would have to send a note to her, as even he did not know which suite the King would give him.

He made a note of the painting the Baronness loved, before returning to the entrance hall. Dimitri was ushered to the Grand Salon, where he was requested to await the King’s summons.

______

((Forgot to add: Approachable for a brief chat for the afternoon. *is typing up a meeting with the King in the meantime*))


((Indeed, this is the stuff of courtly nightmare! Dimitri's going to think himself insane when almost no one knows who Baronness Venn is. Depending on what the King and our lovely Queen decide to do, Mercy may find out Dimitri's identity before he does hers! (Well, I think she's got enough magic powers to do it anyway...)

Oh, and just to confirm, we are referring to the banished Duchess Marie who gave the dress, right?

I was procrastinating on work-- ahem, skimming through the original Baroque thread when I found this nifty list of references to the Baroque era that eternal posted. Thought it might deserve another mention, since it's a useful link for people to build their characters from.))

Fleur was out in the gardens. Admiring the beautiful grounds. They where covered in a blanket of snow. Fleur liked the cold weather, the heat of summer was to sickly for her. With tight corsets and heavy dresses the weather was unbearable in Fleurs opinion.

She had wrapped herself in her fur overcoat. Her husband had sent it along with his last letter. Well he was always good for one thing, if nothing else Fleur thought to herself.
She moved over to the frozen fountain. Leaning over it she placed her hand on the icy layer above the water. The ice stung and she had forgotten to wear her gloves. Her hands turned a shade of scarlett. She moved her gaze to the ground which she stood on. The flowers where out of bloom, laying dead and frozen under the blanket of snow. Fleur felt the same, like she too was being suffocated by an invisible layer of snow. But the snow in her case was her husband. He had killed the Fleur that had once bloomed so beautifully.

She hated this place as much as she hated home. She hated him more for placing her here. There had been some scandal in the court, but Fleur had no part in it or knew much about it. She wished she could gossip like the rest of the court, or pretend to be interested in the Prince's state. But she cared for neither.

She was due her own scandal any day soon surely, wasnt she? Maybe then her life would have some fun and passion injected into it. But she knew the effect scandals had in the end, she would have to be careful this time.#

(approachable)


(OOC: Edited so its winter ohh and fleur actually means flower in french so thats why she links with the flowers as well )

((That's the one Seiza, my first blackmail victim!!! I should be more clear Mercy has purposefully always got the Duchesses name wrong as a play for power.))

Mercy smiled from the otherside of the door. He spoke clearly and crisply to her, once he was gone she slipped out of her high shoes and of the sodden blue dress, it was odd but she had hardly noticed how wet it was during her brief walk with Dimitri, and now she hardly cared the state it was in. She poured water from the porcelain jug on the stand into the matching bowl and proceeded to wash before drying herself and switching to her beautiful dove-grey dress, she reapplied make up to her face, touching up the cut on her face ever so slightly as it had healed enough to allow a gentle coat. she applied more make-up to her arm to cover the bruise.

She was about to put the same shoes on when she noticed a crack in the heel. She, with extreme difficulty, bent and picked the shoe up and examined it. The crack was quite visible but was on a section that was not meant to provide support, the were a gift from her husband and now Dimitri's crazy driver had succeed at changing them... was it a sign? She shook her head and called Helena, stressing that she wanted the shoes cleaned and nothing more. She retrieved a different pair of shoes that were slightly lower, there was no way she could walk around in high ones after her accidents of the past two days.

She set off once more for the orangery, this time she was more careful nd made it through to the warm room, she was warm and happy and she could still stare out at a winter landscape that was blanketed with snow, making it all seem... beautiful.

Dimitri and Edouard - old men talking
 

((littlesunshine: Maybe you can have Fleur walking in the Orangery instead? It's like a greenhouse, and that's where flowers are still blooming. Oh, I really like your edited post! Didn't know that "fleur" = flower myself, very nice.

Fayre: LOL! Marie shall have THAT honour that no one can take away, at least. XD

EDIT: I can't believe it. I've been online all day, and now it's 11pm where I am, and NOW we have 5 people viewing this thread. I hate timezones. :eviltongu ))
______

Duc Dimitri was led to King Edouard’s study by one of the younger aids. He kept his gaze straight, but through the magic of peripheral vision, he could tell when the boy’s eyes flicked nervously towards him, look-not-looking at him. Dimitri supposed, with a long-suffering mental sigh, that these younger servants were not exposed to nobles who openly bore scars on their faces, but who instead hid them behind powders like women.

Dimitri took an appropriate number of steps into the study. King Edouard was at his windows, oddly enough. Or perhaps, considering the circumstances, it was only natural. The King turned and gasped. “I was informed that an old friend had come, but instead I greet a walking skeleton!”

Dimitri was not like the boy; although he noted the King’s bent shoulders and strained voice, he did not give away his observations. He replied dryly, “It is only that your courtiers are too fat, Your Majesty. My cooks keep me sufficiently fed, I assure you.”

“Only with bread and wine, likely.” While Edouard’s tone was already more amiable than his public persona, it did not have the friendliness that was typical between them. After Dimitri’s long absence from the court, it seemed the King needed time before he could truly relax himself within his presence. “You are the only person I know who grows thinner in times of peace.”

“I don’t digest peace as well as others, I suppose.”

The two men sat themselves down. They did not speak while a servant poured glistening wine from a gold decanter. They still did not speak until Edouard finished two glasses in succession, which Dimitri tactfully refrained from mentioning. In his short time at the Grand Salon, he had heard many unsavoury things. He hadn’t wanted to believe such malicious rumours, despite the sobriety of the castle and the lack of festivities; but seeing Edouard now...

“You must know by now.”

“Yes.” Dimitri replied promptly, coolly, though his heart despaired. “However, I hope you will understand if I do not offer condolences just yet.”

“Nor would I want you to.”

Dimitri was not optimistic by nature, but for Adalita, he would turn every prayer he had towards her recovery. The men exchanged pleasantries. They settled old fencing disputes. After the disturbing conversations permeating the Grand Salon, Dimitri wanted to know many things—most importantly, the actual name of the Prince, and all these whisperings about an “attempted murder”—but could find no point at which Edouard looked ready to provide answers. And so the questions remained unasked, and the topic returned to families.

Dimitri did not want to remind the King of his ill daughter, but it was rude enough to have waited this long to ask about the next member of the royal family. “And how is the fair Queen? I have not seen her since...”

“You haven’t met her?” Edouard started beckoning. “I shall send for her immediately.”

“There is no need to hurry,” Dimitri assured. “You must all be very... tired. I have not even seen my suite yet. I would like to be more presentable when I meet the Queen. I doubt she appreciates the scent of a man stuck for thirty hours in a damp, closed carriage.”

Edouard looked at him, and his eyes suddenly seemed very tired, indeed. “Very well. Do make yourself available soon, however. I should like you two to meet before dinner.” Then his eyes turned inward, and glinted, and it almost seemed to Dimitri that the King was getting An Idea...

______

((Still approachable for a while, around the east wing of suites that house the ducs and duchesses.

Considering they didn't have any news press at that time, I assume it'll take a slightly long time for the rest of the country to realise that Adalita had married Octavian and not Silvius. Longer than a week, at any rate. Dimitri, like everyone else, had gotten an invitation to a marriage to Silvius. His estate is also rather far removed from the Palace, so add another hurdle towards his news-gathering skeelz.))

Fleur decided to move into The Orangery. The weather outside had became to chilly even for her liking. She couldnt run the risk of falling ill. She made her way into the Orangery.

She smiled as she stepped into the Orangery. There was hundreds of flowers of different colours and shapes blooming infront of her. Was this a sign, that there was hope for her after all. That she too could bloom again even against the cold snow (aka her husband). She picked a soft rose and felt the smooth petal against her fingers. Lifting it to her nose she breathed in the beautiful scent from the rose. It reminded her of the old days, the days where she had been loved by the only person that she had ever cared for.

She felt her eyes sting and tears welled up inside. She shut her eyes and titled her head back trying to stop the tears from falling. She was not alone in the greenhouse. Another woman was there with her to. A little older than Fleur possibly. The woman seemed to be looking at Fleur curiously, probably wondering who Fleur was, or why she was crying. Fleur puller herself together and turned to the lady and smiled. It was a half hearted smile, but she tried to seem as pleasant as possible.

((Edit: i wont have Fleur talk to Mercy just yet but she has still smiled at her and noticed her so they can still rp together later, if u fancy))

"Good afternoon, Comtess Baisez-Corazón," a voice said behind Fleur. She wasnt sure who the voice belonged to. She hardly knew who was who in the court and had spoke to almost no one since she had arrived.

A young lady stood behind her and as Fleur turned around she bowed and Fleur felt uneasy. "I do not think we have meet before. Though you know my name, tell me how is that?" Fleur asked confused. She was anxious of the other woman (Mercy??) behind her, Fleur had been meaning to try and find out who she was. But that would have to wait a moment. She could not be rude to the other girl (Amelie) infront of her.

Mercy waited patiently for the two girls to talk. And busied herself with the hydraynga bush. She wondered what the pink colouring would look like against the Irises she had already collected, oh well she had time to work upon that. After all what else was the Baroness going to do with herself today?

((I know it's not long enough but it's really just me implying Mercy will wait))

((thanks Shenanigans ))

((OOC: Mahenveau - I understand you're new to the RP, and it may take a bit to get started. But NO ONE besides the Queen and His old friend, talk to the king. NO ONE.

This was stated clearly in the second post of the thread that introduces the king.
Granted it used to say Princess, but still.

This RP is thick and complicated. Please be sure to read over the first two posts, several times if you must. This isn't just directed at you, it's for everyone who's newer in the palace.

I need you to find a different way to have your character know everything she knows please. ))

"When I can here, the King told me who everyone was when I came here. I recognized you right away," Amelie replied and Fleur let out a small "oh" before looking down at the floor.Amelie then turned her eye to the other woman and bowed. "And good afternoon to you, Ms. Mercy." She said to the woman. Fleur looked up at Ms.Mercy. She had heard her name used in the court before. She had also heard Ms.Mercy was a terrible flirt and a gossiper. "Ms.Mercy, Comtess Fleur Baisez-Corazón pleasure to finally become aquainted with you." Fleur said poliety and bowed.

"I do not think you have introduced yourself yet. It seems awfully rude that you know our names but I do not know yours." Fleur said to the younger girl (Amelie)

"My dearest apologies, I am Duchess Amelie Du Polingac." She said, bowing her head.
She turned to a bush of roses, and leaned down to sniff them. "Lovely roses," Amelie said. "It's a pity that the winter has killed most flowers outside." she continued. There were waves of flowers, irises, roses, daisies, lilies, so many that were absolutely beautiful. Not only was the sight beautiful, but the smell was also.

"My dearest apologies, I am Duchess Amelie Du Polingac." She said, bowing her head. Fleur bowed also.

Amelie turned to a bush of roses, and leaned down to sniff them. "Lovely roses," shesaid. "It's a pity that the winter has killed most flowers outside." she continued. Fleur nodded and joined her at the flower bed. "Yes it is a pity" Fleur replied and looked out of the greenhouse window and sighed. "But prehaps if the spring is kind then they shall bloom just as beautiful as ever" Fleur said turning back to the roses and smiled down at them. She still had one of the roses from the rose bush in her hand and the pricks where pushing down on her palm.

"Duchess Amelie Du Polingac, I hope you do not mind I inquring but how did you come about moving to the court. Or have you always lived here? I was under the impression you are also new to the court, as am I" Fleur asked Amelie curiously.

((OOC: Another quote from the first post of the thread.

Please! ))

Mercy raised her eyebrows, firstly she had always been Madame Flight and secondly, she too had a title, true it wasn't as flashy as the two younger womens but it was just as valid. True Mercy had not recieved it in the normal manner threatening the postion of the almost Prince to the point where his love out of desperation sought to appease her but that was of course a secret.

She did not have the energy however to correct the girls and decided to let them eventually realise their mistake from another source. She merely bowed to the young women, "they are not dead merely dormant until spring my dear, fortunately they will return when it comes again. I shall leave you in peace now I have a bouquet to put together." Mercy walked slowly away from the women, with a sudden urge to speak to the Queen about her meagre title.

((I'm playing about Shenan, she won't and i don't expect anything from you!))

Felix and Queen Isabella
 

((*rushes to Notepad.exe in horror at it being afternoon already* I SHOULD NOT SLEEP/EAT/GO SHOPPING xD Speedy people. I'll edit here with a RP. I know I'm a spammy beast but I have only the best intentions, and I'm ever so slightly hyper right now.))

I took another mouthful of Cognac, deliberating over the flavour. Not the best bottle my men ever produced, but I'm certain it wasn't the worst. I would have to have words with them later over allowing the sale of second-best spirits to the Palace. The brandy didn't take too long to begin its effect. I felt much calmer, much more suave and excellent as it settled those damn nerves. It was just as well, for the next few statements could have rendered me thoroughly lost-for-words had I lacked that artificial confidence boost.

“I have so missed your antics Felix.” said Isabella, putting her glass down. I felt myself redden slightly; embarrasing it may be, a compliment from the Queen was a sure indication that other things were playing on her mind, defocusing her probably. That statement might have caught me off guard slightly, but the one that followed was one much more difficult to deal with. I'd been expecting the question to come at some point, perhaps a few hours ago I even wished for it, but I was nevertheless unprepared to answer correctly.

“Many things have changed while you’ve been gone Comte. While I do appreciate the fact that you have returned, I wish to know what kept you away, and more importantly why you’ve returned.” she said, studying him.

Did I lie to her, exploiting her trust in me in order to buy more time? Or did I tell her the truth and place even more stress on her mind? It was a tough dilemma, one that was made even harder to solve by that damned brandy. If only there was a way to vaguely answer the question, satisfying her mind and not giving away too many potentially harmful details... But then again, the sooner I told someone about it, the greater chance there was for things to be put right. Before something terrible happened. It was just a tragedy that Isabella was the woman I had to tell.

"Why I've returned? Well, the truth is..." I started, playing with the rim of the glass nervously as I decided how to go about this. "Back when I left the Palace several months ago, something came up. I think you might recall, I left to go investigate a certain golden quill, which took me to the marketplace. It was only on the way back to the Palace, I came across a familiar face..."

I went on with the story, becoming ever more expressive and enthusiastic in my illustration of the saga with the more brandy I drunk. I told Isabella of how I'd stopped for a quick drink at an inn when the man approached me, stating that he recognised me as a courtier and would like a small favour. He seemed to know lots about my brother, Silvius - particularly the negative relationship me and him held. Using this as some kind of bribe, he went into further detail about that 'small favour'. I flatly refused to take orders from such a seedy lowlife, telling him where to go and leaving the inn quickly. But curiosity barred my immediate return to the palace; I followed the man under the guise of Monsieur Thénarde, finding out his name, what he planned to do, and more importantly why. I overheard conversations between him and his associates, a few of whom I recognised well. As the dirty plot developed, I spent more and more time in that inn, listening intently to those meetings. Finally, I had heard enough - enough to rush back to the palace and have the man convicted. I may have been too late, though.

I finished the tale along with the last of the Cognac, letting Isabella digest the information I'd just given her.

((EDIT: RP added as promised :D))

(( Hey guys, I think I'm gonna drop out of this, to be honest it's a bit above my level of writing. Thanks, I'll write a leaving RP for Lilian if you like ))

((We're of course sorry to lose anyone from this roleplay but sometimes the dynamic just isn't their, so good luck else where!))

"Hopefully so," Amelie agreed as she caressed the petals of a pale rose, admiring its perfection.
"they are not dead merely dormant until spring my dear, fortunately they will return when it comes again. I shall leave you in peace now I have a bouquet to put together." Mercy said. "I'm glad to hear so, it would be a shame indeed if they had died. I bid farewell," Amelie replied as she bowed to Mercy.
"Duchess Du Polingac, I hope you do not mind I inquring but how did you come about moving to the court. Or have you always lived here? I was under the impression you are also new to the court, as am I" Fleur asked her. "I don't mind at all. I came from Versaillies, where I was born. I'm indeed new...and it's quite different, I must say. Ettiquite is much more radical and extreme, but I'm willing to adjust." Amelie said.
Amelie walked a little more down the row of rosebushes to the irises, one of her personal favorite flowers, and swooped down to sniff them.
"All of these flowers are absolutely delightful. I wish I had enough time to plant them myself, but unfortunately I don't. It would be marvelous to have a personal garden of my own," She said in a dreamy voice.

"All of these flowers are absolutely delightful. I wish I had enough time to plant them myself, but unfortunately I don't. It would be marvelous to have a personal garden of my own," Amelie said in a dreamy voice. "If I had anything of my own it would be a miracle." Fleur said quietly.

"Have you yet became aquainted with the King or any of the royals for that matter? I do hear they are the most charming and beautiful people you shall ever meet. But then the people of court would say that, if they wanted to keep their heads" Fleur laughed as she began to stroll down the aisle.

Isabella & Felix - Isabella & Dimitri & Edouard
 

Isabella listened cautiously as Felix recalled all the details of his time away from the Palace. Isabella’s mind was soon focused on what he had to say, as it really was something of the utmost importance. Unlike the Comte, she did not have the calming affects of brandy to help her digest all he had to say. If he was any other courtier she would have asked him seven times over if he was sure he had heard all of that clearly. Was he positive such a diabolical plot was truth and not the mere fantasy of a rejected man? But this was Felix Delarue Peitou-Charentes, the very man who had gone on many undercover missions for her. Each and every time he had done his job admirably so. She had no reason to not believe him.

After he finished his tale, Isabella stood, beginning to pace the room. What he had divulged to her was most serious indeed. There was a traitor in their midst, one who appeared to serve them faithfully, yet was truly willing to do anything for a high enough price. Who was to say that revenge on Adalita would be enough to quench this mad man? Would the satisfaction of bringing down a member of the royal family only give way to greater desires?

Though this all seemed to come about thanks to the Princess’ indiscression and carelessness, action needed to be taken none the less. However she did not wish to be the person to bear such news to Edouard. No doubt to do so would shatter his heart, the one that refused to acknowledge his daughter for what she was, and for how he had failed her.

“Comte, I commend you for returning to inform me off such plots.” She began to address him. “I fear it may to be late for the Princess, but we need to be sure that the deed is paid back in full.” She looked to him, asking him if he understood the full meaning of her statement. Satisfied that he indeed did, she continued. “When you find the party responsible, I want you to return,” a knock on the Salon doors interrupted her before she could finish. She looked to the opening doors, annoyance written all over her face.

“Pardon me, Your Maj…” the servant began before being interrupted.

“Do you not see that I am busy?” she demanded.

“Yes, I do, I’m sorry Your Highness, but the King himself has sent me.”

The servant’s statement caught Isabella a by surprise, “Continue then.”

“He wishes for you to meet with him in his Salon at your earliest convenience, Your Majesty.”

Isabella nodded her understanding and shooed him out of the room. As the servant produced his low bow and quickly shut the doors Isabella struggled to find where she had just been with her words. Edouard sending for her was a rarity at best, and she feared the worst. He could have bad news about Adalita, or Octavien, or perhaps he had seen her struggle to get to Octavien’s suite. Isabella suddenly felt very heavy.

Her eyes quickly returned to Felix as she began to approach him. “I’m sorry, it appears my husband suddenly requires my presence.” She stood only a foot away from him, taking the nearly empty glass from his hand. “Not a word of any of this to the King.” Her eyes bore into his, communicating she meant business and also reminding him that her business always proved to be very rewarding. “And when you’ve found the party responsible, I want you to send word to me at once.” She suddenly lifted the glass to her lips, throwing her head back and swallowing the contents that had remained in the glass.

As he uttered his understanding she handed the glass back to him, then turned on her heels to make her way towards the King’s Salon. The day was but half done and it had already held more than a normal person could bear. All night she had not slept, the pain of the evening before denied her the comfort of sleep. Then, news of Adalita’s “illness”, an attempt made on Octavien’s life, the revealing of a traitor in their midst, and now Edouard wished her presence. She prolonged her neck, holding her head high as any dignified woman would. There was a reason she bore the title of Queen, she would do it justice.

As she neared the King’s Salon the servants opened the door for her. Her eyes looked expectantly in the room for Edouard’s form. Her brows rose and the usual polite smile planted it’s self on her lips when she realized he was not alone in the room. The men rose to greet her as she made her way to her husband’s side, her hands clasped regally in front of her.

“Isabella…” the king called her name, feigning delight at her presence. “Do you recall my old friend Duc d’Lorraine?” Isabella looked towards him politely as he gave a slight bow. The man seemed vaguely familiar to her, but she could not recall where she knew him from. Though it was most unlady like to forget someone who seemed so important to the King, she took comfort in the fact that at least she had not had relations with him.

Dimitri, Isabella and Edouard - King's Salon
 

Dimitri went to his suite immediately after. To his chagrin, he spent the entirety of the time washing (which was fine) and being dressed by a troop of servants for the meeting with the King and Queen (which was not so fine). Just before departing for the King’s Salon, his aid returned with news collected from the palace grounds. When Dimitri sat with Edouard later that afternoon, he was armed with slightly more information than before, but he was no less disturbed.

They hadn’t much time to speak—certainly not enough for the Duc to analyse the glint he was certain existed in his lord’s eye—when the doors opened, and the Queen Consort entered. As they rose to greet her, Dimitri was like a black shadow beside the King’s immaculate white clothes and that ever-present powdered wig. His black hair was tied back in a loose ribbon (not more than one, he told an insistent servant); his suit was dark and well-cut.

The Duc took in the Queen’s dress and bearing with approval: if even half the rumours in the Grand Salon were true, then Isabella was holding up remarkably well in his eyes.

“Do you recall my old friend Duc d’Lorraine?” Edouard introduced him. Anything amiable about him had disappeared. Dimitri sighed inside. Edouard still didn’t realise his wife and Queen was not another audience to act before.

The Duc did not like people wasting time, bandying about silly chit-chat while desperately attempting to remember something about someone. He would save the young Queen the embarrassment of having to guess. He bowed low.

“I oversee the province of Lorraine, Your Majesty, to the far west of your domains. We have the most beautiful forests to walk, the fattest deer to hunt and the most intricate embroideries. I do not believe Your Majesties have visited, but the invitation has always been opened.”

Then he smiled politely, his next words ending the formal introduction. “But I am sure the Queen has more important issues on her mind than to remember an old man like myself. I merely am a friend of the King. We studied together.”

“This is the scoundrel, my dear, who attended our wedding but did not even stay for the hors d'œuvre.”

“An estate needs its overseer,” Dimitri explained simply.

He was terribly calmer than usual around the Queen, like a serene mountain in the horizon, and indeed he was taller than either royal. He did not know what skittish deer might exist under Isabella's royal demeanour, and so he only gestured to take her hand, so that he might kiss it, and then they could all sit down; but he did not snatch it from her side, in case she had no desire to be greeted as such.

______

((Haylifer: Anything from Felix is worth the OOC and wait! *wants to pinch his cheeks so bad*))

Isabella & Dimitri & Edouard - King's Salon
 

((OOC: lol Seiza- I love how you tune into Edouard. However, Dimitri will eventually learn, there’s no skittish dear in that pretty little queen. ))

“I oversee the province of Lorraine, Your Majesty, to the far west of your domains. We have the most beautiful forests to walk, the fattest deer to hunt and the most intricate embroideries.” The Duc listed the fine points of his land as if they would help Isabella remember how she knew of the man. “I do not believe Your Majesties have visited, but the invitation has always been opened.”

That would be Edouard’s fault. Isabella had always loved the idea of going about, seeing lands other than their own. But Edouard would not hear of it. He was quite content holed up in the Palace of his. However, she would not allow her eyes nor her words relay the fact.

“But I am sure the Queen has more important issues on her mind than to remember an old man like myself. I merely am a friend of the King. We studied together.”

Isabella smiled and nodded her head about to greet him properly when Edouard abruptly interrupted her. “This is the scoundrel, my dear, who attended our wedding but did not even stay for the hors d’oeuvre.” Now that Edouard had given her the where of how she knew the Duc, the pieces started to return to her. She realized that she stood in the presence of a man whom Edouard highly esteemed. She much pictured Edouard following him around like a lost puppy, wishing to belong to him. She had tired of hearing so much about him that she was actually pleased when he reattached himself to his beloved Duc of Mollier. How times change.

“An estate needs its overseer.” The Duc quickly excused his shortness at their wedding as he gestured his willingness to place a kiss of greeting on her fair hand.

She raised her hand signaling her willingness, and her pleasure in the fact she finally had her turn to speak. “How could I possibly forget the tales of the legendary Dimitri, Duc d’Lorraine?” she spoke as he took her hand. She wished to make a comment in jest of Edouard’s tales of his friend, however she decided against it.

As the three of them prepared to sit, Isabella was curious as to the exact reason Edouard had sent for her. Did he see his friend’s arrival as something that needed her prompt attention, forgetting the fact that his daughter was to be seen after, and that there had been an attempt on the Prince this day? Was he really so short sighted that he felt she had nothing better to do? Whatever Edouard’s reasoning, or lack thereof, she would have to dwell on it later. Now was her time to play polite hostess, and ever perfect wife. A mask she had perfected some time ago.

“Rest assured my husband holds you in the highest regard’, she started politely. “It is a rarity that he wishes I meet any of his guests. What, may I ask, do we owe gratitude to as the cause of your visit?”

Dimitri, Isabella and Edouard - King's Salon
 

((Whoa! Did anyone else get a scary "forbidden" message for the night? I've been trying to access the site like crazy! Man, if I don't get back on, someone please find me on lynnchama[AT]gmail[DOT]com.

Swirly, I'm sad to see you go, but good luck with other RPs!

Shenan: Well! Let's hope Dimitri won't have to learn that first-hand, eh?

Atropa, I figure if anyone will know what happened to the 'murderer', it will be the King. He didn't mention any names, but if you'd still like it removed, just PM me and I'll edit that part. ))
______

“How could I possibly forget the tales of the legendary Dimitri, Duc d’Lorraine?”

He was amused. Young Edouard once bothered him extensively about his “stories,” but never did he imagine those same tales would be told to this young queen. To a son, perhaps; but not to Isabella, with whom he had conversed once, on her wedding day, and barely any more thereafter. Dimitri bowed again at her compliment.

“I hope Your Majesty remembers only the legendarily good, not the legendarily bad.”

“Rest assured my husband holds you in the highest regard.” Isabella was properly gracious. “It is a rarity that he wishes I meet any of his guests. What, may I ask, do we owe gratitude to as the cause of your visit?”

“I came to offer my congratulations for your daughter’s wedding. Unfortunately, a host of transportation mishaps delayed me extensively, so I just arrived this afternoon.” His eyes turned sympathetic. “I have also just found out the Princess’ condition.”

“How is she?” Edouard asked his wife.

“The physicians remain with her,” the Queen looked down, but returned to the men a soft, solemn gaze. “But there is always hope, my lord.”

“I only pray she was not disturbed by the commotion. I don’t suppose you heard, Dimitri? An attempt was made on the Prince’s life in his own suite.”

“Ah...” the Duc breathed, surprised and a little aghast that Edouard spoke so openly about this. In front of his wife, no less! “It is a popular topic among your courtiers right now. I presume Prince Octavian is all right?”

“I believe so. I was informed the Prince ordered the man imprisoned.”

Edouard and Isabella didn’t even blink at the name, which confirmed at least one of his questions: Adalita had indeed married Comte Octavian Lahance, not Duc Silvius Peitou-Charentes. It was a truly odd situation (an attempted murder wasn’t nearly so, in Dimitri’s experience), but one he would file away for now. While Isabella was quiet, Dimitri mulled over this information. However, the King seemed unusually chatty today, and spoke over their silence:

“A dreadful affair, all of this. Your arrival strikes me the one positive sign of the new year, Duc, which I shall not waste. You mayn’t have heard, but I have long searched for someone capable of taking up the departed Duc d’Mollier’s position. With the assistance of my fair Queen.” Dimitri raised an eyebrow. Surely he wouldn’t be asked to...

“I will be frank: it has been quite futile. Yet despite what has happened, I will continue the search. I wish that you stay and help us.”

“Edoua—Your Majesty!” Dimitri almost forgot his place, although his exclamation was controlled into a murmur. The King knew he didn’t stay at court for a reason, so to be asked to do this! “But my estate—”

“Do not think me unaware of the horde of competent managers you have at your disposal.” The King spoke with some joviality, but under it laid a near-order.

Dimitri had no illusions of his choice in the matter. But he took long enough to answer, considering everything from the cost of travel to the reaction of Her Majesty herself at this, clearly, surprising suggestion. Edouard seemed to remember her too; Dimitri saw him looking at her, and could only assume he was seeking her support.

Isabella & Dimitri & Edouard - King's Salon
 

Isabella had asked the Duc d’Lorraine politely about the reason for his visit. A question that was partly fueled out of proper cordiality and partially out of sincere curiosity.

“I came to offer my congratulations for your daughter’s wedding. Unfortunately, a host of transportation mishaps delayed me extensively, so I just arrived this afternoon.” Isabella’s polite regal smile decreased a little in size as she knew the conversation was bound to turn to Adalita’s ill fate. “I have also just found out the Princess’ condition.”

There it was. “How is she?” Edouard asked of her.

“The physicians remain with her,” her eyes dropped slightly. With what she knew, she doubted the princess could possibly pull through. But she would not allow Edouard to see her admit defeat so easily. She returned her gaze to her company along with a solemn smile. “But, there is always hope my lord.”

“I only pray she was not disturbed by the commotion.” Edouard continued. “I don’t suppose you heard, Dimitri? An attempt was made on the Prince’s life in his own suite.” Isabella looked towards the king startled. To speak of such things quite plainly and openly, perhaps the grief for his daughter had managed to affect his reasoning.

Her eyes soon darted from Edouard to Dimitri, if she had read his expression correctly, his thoughts weren’t that much different than her own. "Ah… It is a popular topic among your courtiers right now.”

I bet it is. Isabella thought to herself. “I presume Prince Octavien is all right?” Isabella continued to sit silently, as if she were not in the room at all. “I believe so. I was informed the Prince ordered the man imprisoned.” I want him hung. she continued to think to herself, her face and demeanor not giving the slightest hint that she had any thoughts about the matter at all.

As Edouard quickly changed topics to that of the seemingly ever vacant advisor’s position, Isabella was left to brew in her thoughts. The day was so filled with strife, but one thing stood out above the rest. She wished to see personally the condition Octavien was in. “With the assistance of my fair Queen.” Edouard’s statement demanded her attention once again.

“I will be frank: it has been quite futile. Yet despite what has happened, I will continue the search. I wish that you stay and help us.” That statement did more than demand her attention. It grabbed a firm hold of and shook her.

“Edoua- Your Majesty!” Dimitri’s statement did not quite match the surprise in Isabella’s own mind. “But my estate-“

Yes! Her mind wished to holler. His estate! His forests full of fat deer! Do not keep the man here against his wishes! Though she was riled interiorly, her exterior only showed a look of surprise with wide eyes.

“Do not think me unaware of the horde of competent managers you have at your disposal.” Edouard interrupted. The man was usually such a weak diplomat, bending and giving to whatever breeze blew that day. What a fine time for him to find his back bone.

That’s when the look on Edouard’s face registered with her. He was expecting her full support in such matters. Though every inch of her disliked the very core of the idea, she simply smiled towards him, communicating she understood his wishes. Her gaze returned to Duc d’Lorraine as she quickly settled any nervousness she may have had, making sure none of them came through her voice.

With her warm welcoming smile she addressed Dimitri, “It seems my husband, the King, is intent you make up for your absence at weddings by staying with us longer. Please do consider it, as I fear the Princess may require more of my presence in short time.”

Whatever opposition the Duc once held towards Edouard’s suggestion, it quickly melted away after Isabella’s words. With a simple nod he conceded, “I shall send for more belongings.”

“Good, good…” Edouard stood shaking Dimitri’s hand, and continuing to babble on about looking forward to the times they would spend together, and the tales they would have to pass along. Isabella had stood as well, as to not seem impolite, the royal glad smile firmly on her face. Interiorly she tried to console herself. This didn’t have to be a bad thing. She was assuming Dimitri’s ideas of what was best for their kingdom would clash with her own. Perhaps she would be pleasantly surprised and their views aligned more than she thought.

As those thoughts ran through her mind, she had absentmindedly followed the unlikely duo to the salon doors. She quickly concluded that she had to meet with Duc d’Lorraine without Edouard in their presence. It was the only possible way she could get a good feel for if this man would be her friend or foe. Now that Comte Charantes had returned, she had every intention to pull him up the ranks. He was going to be the King’s advisor, that was all there was to it in her mind.

“Duc d’Lorraine,” she began during a lull in Edouard’s seemingly ceaseless chatter once they now stood in the doorway of his Salon. “I wish to give you a proper introduction to our Palace. Since you will be staying with us for some time it is my duty and privilege to make sure you are well acquainted with your temporary home.” She clasped her hands together in front of her, lowering her voice a little in preparation for the next sentence. “However, as I’m sure you can rightly understand, there are matters I must see to this afternoon. Will you please grant me the pleasure of your company tomorrow morning?” she looked to him with the same look she had had when attempting to persuade him to stay. If it worked once, surely it would work again.

((OOC: Seiza- After he's accepted or denied, feel free to part ways. Or, bring up something else if you like. ))