Everlight Family/Isana/Bisciye

Bisciye

This document records a short incident between Isana and Duchess Aila Storme, when the two were enroute to Clermont with the Paladins to clear out a large force of undead from the region.

Storme

During the old wars Aila had passed through this farming region of Bisciye far more than once, but as they all made camp rallying there she could not recall one time she had actually stopped in the region at all. Farmland, as far as the eye could see made Aila wonder just how much of this work that the peasants did all around them as spring began, was responsible for feeding her City. Then, she began to wonder how much had fed her while she grew up there, and then she frowned as she realized she was beginning to do exactly what she used to complain to Smiddich about doing. Pondering numbers and food orders in his free time, always randomly starting up about the tax rates, reminding her that even the farming regions had a great purpose.

A heavy sigh escapes her, and her retained Gideon knows her well enough now that he knows something is bothering her. “Scout reports say Duke Kenneth is in the region” he offers helpfully.

“Isana too” Aila adds, and Gideon finds that rather odd.

“I didn’t know you were fond of Isana”

“I’m not” Aila snaps. “I just have something I mean to tell her”

“About what?” He inquired, cautiously aware of the growing look of impatience on his Lady’s face. Aila is quiet for a long moment and Gideon can tell she is looking for someone’s Heraldry as they move slowly through the encampment, he nudges her horse toward where he could plainly see Isana’s banner. Aila doesn’t relent, but she doesn’t tell him off either. Gideon dismounts his horse, then offers an arm to Aila even though she always just hopped off the horse without accepting assistance. She mades two steps toward Isana’s camp before retreating, Gideon has to stifle an affectionate ‘awh’ as she hides behind him slightly “Are you shy?”.

“I’m a Duchess, tell her I’m here”

“Ah yes, I forgot Duchess’ can never be shy, just must be heralded into tents. One moment.” He leaves her alone with her nerves to seek out the Lady Isana’s captain, well practiced at his job Gideon asks the captain confidently: “The Duchess of Perdan would like a moment of your Lady Isana’s time, could you ask over it?”

Everlight

Gideon asks the captain confidently: “The Duchess of Perdan would like a moment of your Lady Isana’s time, could you ask over it?”

Henrik rests his longbow stave on the soft earth and tilts his head forward, looking at the man, then whence he came. Sure enough, Duchess Aila in blue and black is visible in the distance.

"Ah, yes, I'll do so of course. Is it about the coronation? Erm, never mind. Will you please wait one moment?" Henrik gestures to another soldier with his stave, who moves to take Henrik's patrol spot as the Captain quickly departs. --- "Milady Isana?" Henrik calls as he approaches the command tent. The flap is open, so he ducks and enters, nearly crashing heads together with Cedric. "Oi!"

"Yes, Captain?" Isana asks, pretending not to notice her page's impeccable timing.

Henrik Heinz's stern eye follows Cedric, who ducks around his big brother cheekily out of the tent on some errand. "Ah, Milady, her Grace Duchess Aila Storme is at the camp perimeter, and requests a moment of your time."

Isana glances to the door of the tent, to the finished missives on her camp desk, and then back to Henrik. "Do you... have any idea what she wants?" she asks, tone suggesting there is nothing feasible. "I mean, the coronation went off beautifully, and she's hardly said boo to me... well, ever?"

Her Captain's eyebrows crawl toward his hairline. "I attempted to ask, Milady, but it seemed untoward for me to ask the Duchess' personal business..."

The knight's face pulls and scrunches to one side as she chews her lip, looking about the sparsely-furnished tent again, indecisively. "I suppose, I invite her here? It's a field camp, it's all we've got; that's proper I think. Ced will be right back, I'll get him to fetch a snack and another chair too... Oh but maybe that takes too much of her time?"

Isana looks down at her boots and gives a little huff of air. Seconds tick by, and Henrik shuffles awkwardly at the entrance. "Milady?"

Green-blue eyes meet his under a firm brow, and Henrik recognizes his commander's hell with it here we go face. "Show me to our visitor, Captain."

As they approach the waiting Gideon, Isana does her best impression of the posture Alyssa takes when she's reviewing the troops: shoulders squared, chin up, hands behind her. Henrik addresses the man first.

"Dame Isana Everlight of Perdan, to see her Grace Duchess Aila."

Isana nods once in confirmation. "If Her Grace wishes I am prepared to welcome her in the Stormfront encampment, else I attend as requested."

Storme

Aila looks severe as always as Isana approaches, but beside her Gideon a young looking cleaned shaved face, complete with a bright shining smile of straight white teeth to contrast the dark cloud that was his Duchess. As Isana approaches and gives her the full respect of her titles, Aila resolves 'hell with it here we go' and relents the smallest of smiles to the other woman. "Lady Isana; Why don't we walk while we talk" she suggests with a friendliness that does not come naturally to her, it is born of sheer determination.

His Lady suggests it, but does not move until Gideon gently nudges her forward with a short sigh; The girl could write letters upon letter of rage fueled missives to the entire realm but when it came to being nice...It was a wonder this woman had any friends at all. His nudge works and Aila begins a stroll at a pace one might expect from a spoiled noble, slow and judgmental as she peers around Isana's camp noisily. Gid follows many paces behind, pretending not to listen as Aila tries her best to be friendly. He has to wonder why? Aila does very little out of her way for people.

"I didn't seek you out for anything official so apologies if I am interrupting work" she is obviously stifling some other comment as she wrinkles her nose for just half a second. "I found myself rather overwhelmed with guests at the coronation and I wondered what you thought of it all in the end."

Everlight

Henrik looks on questioningly as Isana takes a step toward the Duchess. She meets his eyes and gestures with her chin at the other guard standing in his place. The Captain takes the hint, though he watches with soft brown eyes as the haughty Duchess and her too-friendly attendant accompany Isana on a slow stroll away.

“What I thought... of the coronation?” Isana clarifies hesitantly, watching where Aila’s eyes roam as the women circuit the encampment. “Well. It seemed a successful event, and handsomely attended. I must admit, your Grace, my experience in affairs of this calibre is quite thin. My focus was mainly on ensuring my own actions were suitable so as not to be an embarrassment to the realm, and that Aly-- Her Majesty had a good time and spoke with all those she wished to.”

Cedric, returning casually from his errand, happens to stroll within Isana’s field of vision at this moment. He stiffens comically as he notes the strolling conversation. Isana catches his eye, glances meaningfully at the ground slightly behind her on the opposite side from Aila, and back at her page before continuing to speak. He hesitates then awkwardly adopts a long-striding saunter and moves in to follow Isana at an attendant distance, somewhat closer than Gideon.

“Overwhelmed with guests?” Isana queries, looking curiously over at the younger woman. “Please forgive my surprise; your reputation to effortlessly handle extremes precedes you, and I have seen your poise myself. Were you able to enjoy the evening at all?”

Storme

“No” Aila answers bluntly, she and Gideon had put weeks of care into planning it but when the event finally came, she had been haunted the entire night. She had resolved to come there to help so in a figurative leap of faith she did something she rarely did, and expressed herself honestly. “Smiddich had the talent, the presence that kept the minor nobles far back but still happy and included. I felt as though I was thrown into a shark infested lagoon without him there. And then my knight; Apollyon, he worries me sick on top of it all.”

Atop the most prominent tent in the camp a white Falcon- known as Luna- perched on the top of Isana’s banner. She peered down at the two women with the sharp expressionless eyes of a hunter as her master moved through the camp.

Aila didn’t ask permission, and Gideon didn’t need orders. As the Duchess led their walk into the privacy of the tent he stalled outside with the other man. He simply stood outside smiling the same charismatic smile, waiting for the moment when he would inevitably have to apologize for his Lady.

Within Isana’s tent Aila continues, still resolved to breach the subject she had come here to touch on. “I did not organize the event for me, despite what some may think. I thought a lot about the previous coronation, and asked Alyssa her feelings about what sort of ceremony it should be.”

Hazel eyes scanned the tent same as they did the camp, Aila had a hard time shaking the habit she had of passing harsh judgment on every place she entered; but in recent months she had gotten far better at not outright criticizing. “I gave you the part I did for a few reasons. I watched my love be crowded from behind three rows of people, I didn’t want that for you. And I wanted you to lift the crown.”

Aila clears her throat daintily, she feels very uncomfortable but the usual severe expression she always had remained in place for now “Because, while the Judge lays the crown on he head for the first time, but it is you who will place it every other time”

Her well practiced expression wavered in the form of a twinge of her lip, threatening a frown. Remembering those private moments when she had helped Smiddich prepare for dozens of official meetings tugged at her heart painfully.

“I wondered too, if you had the same first thought as I did the first time you picked it up.”

Everlight

As Aila walked confidently ahead of her and into Isana’s own tent without discrete invitation, Isana’s face fell from polite interest through surprise to a dismayed grimace. While the Duchess continued her musings aloud through the canvas, Isana turned silently to Cedric and gestured him toward the mess. He was sharp, she hoped he’d understand her meaning.

She followed into the tent and wondered if this was an unannounced inspection rather than a casual visit, as she found Aila’s pretty and stern face was systematically indexing the contents of the whole while she talked. One step inside the door Isana stood, arms clasped behind her back, listening quietly and pointedly leaving the one desk chair for the Duchess. The space was tidy as usual, with the commander’s desk and her few frivolities the only things distinguishing the contents from any other knight’s: a mottled thick grey pelt at the foot of the bed, her signature green coat atop the trunk, and an extra lantern and novel beside the bed. Not even the larger campaign bed she’d taken to sharing with Alyssa on their foray to Kalmar was in evidence this trip.

   “I gave you the part I did for a few reasons. I watched my love be crowded from behind three rows of people, I didn’t want that for you. And I wanted you to lift the crown.”

   Aila clears her throat daintily, ...the usual severe expression she always had remained in place for now “Because, while the Judge lays the crown on he head for the first time, but it is you who will place it every other time”

   Her well practiced expression wavered in the form of  a twinge of her lip, threatening a frown. “I wondered too, if  you had the same first thought as I did the first time you picked it up.”

Isana blinked several times, noting a downturn of Aila’s lip but not processing it immediately as her mind handled the crown revelation.

“Again I am grateful for the consideration shown to invite me to be part of the ceremony despite my rank… As to the first thought, I’d have to know what your first thought was then, Your Grace. For my own part, while I wish I could say it was on the reverence of the moment or the symbol of our monarchy… my first thought was shock that such a heavy and sharp item was to be placed, and then worn, on her Majesty’s head. It seemed risky and strange.”

She stopped and lifted her chin again, finding it hard to be properly formal in her own space, and unsure what the proper level of formal even was under the circumstances.

Storme

The Duchess is not as insensitive as people like to imagine her, she can feel the tension even if she has the ability not to show it on her face. Yet Isana said nothing to suggest why she was so clearly uncomfortable, so Aila stayed standing where she was acting as if there was nothing wrong at all.

As Isana stands in a sort of stunned silence, blinking over and over Aila holds her tongue- offering the smallest of encouraging smiles. “If I wanted you to take in reverence and symbolism I’d have sent you to a history class.”A joke, not a very friendly one. “Ahm, you took from the experience what I hoped you would. I’m sure you’ve often heard people in Perdan always says ‘heavy lies the crown’ but the real line is ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown’ They are so often mixed up that one reminds me of the other”

Aila was in the middle of doing the very thing that she so often told off others for doing, rambling.

“I just had hoped to remind you of it as well. And I did. Which brings us to the reason I am here. You should realize that you’re in a unique position, one that I was in not so long ago. You have a big job to do, and with us at the brink of war I felt I should offer you some unsolicited advice”

Aila lifts her chin to match Isana’s formal stance, perhaps that way Isana would look past the fact that this twenty-two year old was about to chide her. “I notice you are not present in the small council, I assume this is your choice. Reconsider it at once. You do not have to contribute but it will help you both if you know what goes on in that chamber.”

Point one down, point two “Alyssa serves Perdan, and only Perdan I see it, you know it, it’s been this way for a very long time. More than when she served Imperatrix your job is to serve her. She’s got not just Delphine to oversee, but everything else. Make sure she eats, organize her staff, be sure that before she ever enters a room the fires are lit and the covers turned down” She couldn’t help but feel quite exposed while she revealed all the tiny tasks she would oversee for their previous King. “When she can’t sleep don’t let her work instead. When she cannot eat, bring her desserts no one with eyes can turn down” A quirk of a smile as she thought of the cakes she would wave under Smiddich’s nose when he was most bogged down.

“Stay in the region she is in, read her letters, be sure the titles are all correct. After two dozen letters often mistakes happen and foreign Kings are VERY uppity about their titles. You should learn the heraldry of your enemies as well as your allies. Red martlet” she recalls “Whenever I saw a red Martlet I knew…”

A sigh.

“And take this advice with good nature please. I know you are already doing these things to some capacity, I don’t think Alyssa would be as well as she is if you did not. We are different, when I was where you are I was twenty, thinking all Smiddich did was collect taxes and throw parties!" She lets out a bitter laugh "I wish someone had told me these things. All of my efforts toward the two have you has stemmed from that. I see your place in this, I want you to know I see it.” She waves her hand flippantly, as if she hadn’t just bore a secret part of her soul to Isana, a near stranger.

“That is all I wanted to say” she pauses, it really wasn't but it was all she had the nerve for before she knew just how annoyed Isana would be with her.

Everlight

   “And take this advice with good nature please. I know you are already doing these things to some capacity, I don’t think Alyssa would be as well as she is if you did not. We are different, when I was where you are I was twenty, thinking all Smiddich did was collect taxes and throw parties!" She lets out a bitter laugh "I wish someone had told me these things. All of my efforts toward the two have you has stemmed from that. I see your place in this, I want you to know I see it.” She waves her hand flippantly, as if she hadn’t just bore a secret part of her soul to Isana, a near stranger.

   “That is all I wanted to say” she pauses, it really wasn't but it was all she had the nerve for before she knew just how annoyed Isana would be with her.

Isana’s eyes rested on the lantern by the bed but did not see it, instead looking back over the past month. Yes she had been watching out for Aly, always would--with gratitude to her ancestors’ stars for her own empathetic nature--but maybe it hadn’t been enough. Heavy lies the head… What was she not seeing? If her sophisticated Duchess had not known what to expect in supporting a monarch beau, what hope did Isana have?

Worry pawed at her like a thousand tiny hands, each with its separate negative image. She forgot her Liege was in the room, instead pursuing the will o’wisp of this new path of thought into perilous murky darkness. When she had been training the Stormfront and seeing to her own paperwork, ought she to have rather been at Alyssa’s side? When she’d left the lantern burning and gone to bed before her love’s late return, should she rather have stayed awake, stoked the fire… or even stayed with her in the court? And small council...

She looked up from her pursuit to see her Duchess standing formally, apparently actually finished with the narrative. Recent memory replayed--her voice catching on a phrase, the bitter laugh--and realization hit Isana: she is helping me, and her knowledge was dearly earned.

Isana’s smooth features contorted into a mask of confusion, grief, and gratitude. This woman, usually an unassailable visage of haughty nobility whose approval was probably unattainable despite being nearly a decade her junior, was imparting priceless wisdom to her knight. She was doing so without request, for the good of the realm-- or to protect Isana from the same hurt it seemed she had felt, the same cruel learning curve, perhaps? Either way it was a merciful gesture and entirely unexpected. Frustration at her liege’s rude lack of care in invading Isana’s space balled up and was pushed aside to make room for the confused gratitude.

“I…” she began, and stopped, rethinking the words as her voice betrayed the emotion she felt. She looked to one side, brows casting dark shadows. One hand found the end of her braid in habit.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Isana managed, her voice quiet and rough. She took a deep breath and continued, meeting Aila’s gaze with one that sparkled both from gathered moisture and from fire within. She let her hand fall from the braid but did not resume the full attention stance, and simply stood as she spoke.

“Your advice will be taken gratefully to heart. I suppose I look like a startled deer among stags, not knowing well what is expected in this role. 'High society' in Thalmarkin was the occasional trip to the austere capital of Unger, where many of the nobles are nearly as savage as the monsters they vanquish; by necessity of course, but it makes the version of haut monde I grew accustomed to very pale in comparison with our Perdan. Her Majesty Alyssa is very different from your Lord, but I know her well, and with your guidance I will work to be her consort properly. Or at least now know better how to try. I will do everything I can to make her life easier, for her and for Perdan.”

She paused, guilt invading her features as she remembered where this familiar tent stood: on campaign in Bisciye, far from her love who could probably benefit from her help with all the recent letters she'd been getting, and a few foreign dignitaries still in the capital.

It was her turn to sigh. Isana met Aila’s eyes again, and for the first time, it felt like maybe she understood a little of what she saw there. There was so much to do...

A small smile curled into one cheek. “My Liege, if I may… I can certainly understand thinking all His Highness did was throw parties. There was a time when I thought the same.”

Storme

Visible relief characterizes the features of the young Duchess as Isana takes her words with careful consideration, and takes no offense to the rather presumptuous advice given to her. Something is learned about Isana Aila did not know, to think of this Lady as one of the savage Lord of Thalmarkin was difficult to do…Her tent was neat, her men well trained, and she didn’t burp, smash, or kill one thing at any event so far.

As Isana levels her gaze on her liege's hazel eyes she is met with none of the usual coldness and severity, all that lived there in that moment was a little hint of sadness. “He made it look easy,” Aila says with a little laugh and a wistful look, “But it is not. . .”

With what she had wanted to say said, and the faint tones of Gideons voice attempting to make conversation outside, the Duchess decides she should leave before overstaying her already tenuous welcome. “Thank you for hearing me out. This subject has been a weight on my mind since the coronation and it has helped me to get it out”

Wringing her hands Aila seems to want to say something, falters, turns, falters again, and heads to the exit of the tent intending to take her leave rather than embarrass herself.

A flurry of, “I wouldn’t want to keep you any longer, I should go, there is much to do, good luck at the battle” all came as a nervous rush of a goodbye but still, Aila lingered by the flap of the tent with one hand on it as she wrestled with her better judgement.

“Just-- One more thing…!”

She grits her teeth, puts back on her severe look of Aila-ness that made her so very difficult for others to like. “If I ever find anything like I had before I won’t hesitate- So HURRY UP and get married will you?”

And with that she was gone, making like her namesake and storming from sight muttering "Not sure who is worse, you or Kenneth" under her breath.

Everlight

Feeling thoroughly off-balance between epiphanic realizations and meteoric changes in behaviour, Isana realizes her intrusive guest has left and lunges out the tent flap after her.

“Duchess Aila!” she calls after the woman, then stumbles to a halt nearly crashing into Cedric with his heavily laden tray. She steadies the boy with both hands, and straightens, looking to see if she’s been heard. Aila is some distance off, still facing away, but she has stopped. Isana continues, voice pitched to carry just far enough.

“Whether it pleases or pains you, Milady Duchess… you may be well served to know that I proposed to Her Majesty on the Autumnal Equinox, just last week.” A long pause, and a softening of Isana's brow that suggests a smile. “She accepted.”

Without waiting for a response Isana continues, “And, unrelatedly, my Liege… if you and your attendant wish to stay, luncheon has arrived.”