Briarwood Family/Liliyana/The Ball of Thorns

Meanwhile

Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood

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Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns

In the soft glow of the moonlight, Lilyana Briarwood stood regally at the entrance to her family mansion. The delicate beams filtered through the overgrown garden, casting ethereal shadows that danced upon the walls of the small, purple-hued mansion. Its exterior, adorned with thorny vines that had long lost their vibrancy, seemed to meld with the night, creating an air of both elegance and eerie mystery.

She wore a wispy black dress that flowed around her curvaceous figure like wisps of smoke. Lilyana's midnight black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her burgundy eyes held an eerie depth that shimmered in the moonlight. Her presence exuded a captivating charm that seemed to beckon the moonlight to her side.

With a serene exhale, she smoothed out the few crinkles in her dress and straightened her posture. Tonight, a grand ball was to take place within these walls, a gathering of the elite and the powerful. Lilyana's gaze turned wistful as she contemplated her missing younger brother, Malachi. She hoped he was safe, somewhere far from harm's reach.

Her introspection was broken by the authoritative clearing of a throat. A middle-aged man, marked by a salt-and-pepper beard and cold navy blue eyes, approached her. "Are you ready to receive our guests, Daughter?" he inquired, his voice resonating with both command and underlying tension.

Lilyana nodded gracefully, her countenance unwavering. "Yes, Father," she replied, her voice a soft, soothing murmur, "will Mother be joining us?" A subtle note of concern laced her words, a question left hanging in the air.

Her father's gaze narrowed, and his tone turned sombre. "No. Not tonight," he replied tersely. Leaning in, he spoke in hushed tones, a venomous undercurrent tainting his words. "You look the part but do not forget what your duty is. Try not to enjoy yourself too much tonight, Dame Briarwood."

Lilyana's smile remained steadfast as she met her father's gaze. "But of course, Ser Elias Briarwood," she responded with unruffled grace, her words a gentle reminder of her stature and resilience.

With those words, her father walked away, leaving her in the moonlit silence. A sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her attention to the rising moon, a symbol of change and new beginnings. "And so it begins, time to put on a show," she murmured to herself, her voice carrying a sense of purpose.

A clap of her hands brought forth a servant, adorned in a silver elk skull mask, from the shadows. "Ma'am?" the servant inquired.

Lilyana turned to face them, her expression composed and decisive. "Inform the others," she instructed, her voice carrying the weight of her authority, "let the musicians start and have the guests admitted in. It's time."

The servant bowed respectfully and retreated, carrying out Lilyana's orders with quiet efficiency. As the night progressed, guests began to arrive, drawn to the mansion by the enchanting melodies that emanated from within. Lilyana steeled herself, her warm smile in place as she greeted each guest with poise and charm.

The mansion soon echoed with the lively strains of music, its haunting beauty resonating in every corner. Lilyana stood, a figure of elegance and mystery, presiding over the Court of Thorns. As the moonlight continued to wash over her family's mansion, she embraced the role fate had cast upon her, ready to navigate the dance of intrigue and nobility that awaited within the shadows of this most auspicious night.

(Music I have playing for reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxFS1DFRnrk )

Roleplay from Juste Lamphear

Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)

Pirouetting Under the Lunar Gaze; The Briarwood Ball.

The music was serene. Perfect, even. The ensemble of strings called out into the night like a siren song, entrancing the young knight as he stepped from his buggy.

"G'luck to ye, laddie, advisor says with a glint in his eye. No chaperone needed; Juste would brave this night alone.

The night seemed to be Sir Juste's favourite time. While his family colours were white and red, Juste opted for a full black garb with red trimming. His trousers fit tightly and had red pinstripes that tucked away under knee-high leather boots that had cuffs at the tops. He wore a red undershirt with a black vest and coat, both adorned with crimson trimming and the family crest on his back. Ultimately, he wasn't dressed too regal, but enough to pass for a proper guest.

The young knight's stark hair was let down to flow over his back as he took long, purposeful strides into the moonlit mansion. A knowing grin was plastered over his face as he is finally given the chance to meet with Dame Liliyana for the first time. With the grace of a ln ebony cat, he would reach out for her hand with a bow of his head, offering a kiss to her fingers while greeting her. "Well met, Dame Liliyana. The night is perfect."

Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood

Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)

Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns

As the guests filed in – a collection of rich merchants and minor nobles of Aix – Lilyana greeted each with a polite and serene smile. Her lips curved gracefully, but her thoughts danced in cryptic patterns as she observed the unimpressive arrivals. These were her father's friends, a network of connections tied through social and financial bonds. Some faces were familiar, acquaintances from the echelons of nobility, and she could already foresee the pattern of the night.

It was a ritual repeated far too often. Her father's companions had brought their sons, suitors preordained by familial aspirations. Lilyana's heart sighed with resignation; once again, she would have to deflect advances that held no genuine interest for her. With a soft exhalation, she prepared herself for the chore of the evening.

Amid the sea of mundane interactions, one figure stood apart. A lone silhouette, purposeful and regal, strode with conviction toward the entrance. His attire spoke of higher nobility, befitting someone of her own stature. Her eyes traced his movements, recognizing the distinction in his bearing even though she was unable to discern his colours or insignia.

Politely, she extricated herself from the clutches of an old soldier turned merchant, Rickard Trask, who was ensnaring her in a web of tedious war stories. With a smile that concealed her distant thoughts, she addressed him, "Perhaps thee can finish thy tale inside, Good Lord. It sounds like one best shared over drinks and one not to be kept to myself. I hear Mr. Astigar has a love for such tales." The old man nodded, grinning, and ambled indoors, leaving Lilyana free to pursue a more captivating conversation.

As the lone figure drew closer, Lilyana's gaze remained locked on him. His presence resonated differently, sparking her curiosity in ways that others couldn't. His steps were deliberate, each one carrying an air of calculated elegance. When he reached her, their eyes met, and her cryptic smile shifted subtly into one of genuine warmth.

The soft rustle of fabric accompanied her movement as she extended her hand. In the pale moonlight, her cheeks took on the faintest hue of blush as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. "Greetings and grace upon thee, Ser Juste," she said, her voice a soothing melody wrapped in an eerie cadence. "The night is beautiful, isn't it? But I would not call it perfect. There is much yet to be seen. I am grateful thee came."

His presence, his energy, was a fresh breath of air to the night. She offered him a delicate curtsey, her eyes gleaming with inquisitiveness as she spoke, "Welcome to my home. The Court of Thorns welcomes and embraces thee for this night. May thee enjoy it."

Roleplay from Juste Lamphear

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Juste: The Ball of Thorns

Sir Juste was a reserved young man. He was clearly listening to Dame Lilyana as she spoke to him, but his attention was also fixated on everything around him. He was keeping tabs on every exit, every witness, and every alibi as if he were a thief infiltrating a big score. If she was attentive enough, Dame Lilyana might even catch on to his mannerisms. It wouldn't be farfetched for her to wonder if he was prone to paranoia. Regardless of it all, he too had picked up the same patterns she has.

This isn't her party. He thinks to himself. It's a party for her, sure. But it's not her party. Looks like I'm the first of the Perdanese martial heads to have arrived. I bet she's itching for an excuse to not be stuck with political agendas and would-be suitors.

"I am grateful, Dame Lilyana for the hospitality of yourself and your esteemed family. I look forward to meeting with more of...Our peers as the night goes on. Though I admit that I would be pleased to share wine and conversation with you before you are lost to the...Masses."

A keen ear would pick up Juste's accent. It was subtle, and sounded as if many years of study went into hiding it. But English was not his native tongue, which was odd for a son of Aix. His voice was gentle, and flowed like the silk that lined the inside of his shoulder cloak. Most people speak with body language that gives them away. A subtle curve of the brow, or flick of their gaze. Hand motions, nodding, or leaning. And while Juste wasn't immune to body language, he was definitely using an incredibly small amount of it, as if the notion of doing so was being kept in check.

How disciplined.

Shameless, however was the attempt for a second kiss to her fingers, to be done while locking eyes with a mid-thirties charlatan that had been watching the two Knights like a hawk. Dame Lilyana would be afforded plenty of time to react, but he was likely to move on soon after.

Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood

Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (19 recipients)

Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns

Lilyana's eyes shimmered with intrigue as Juste remained in her gaze. His guarded demeanour, the way his eyes scanned the estate's entrance, it all danced with a hint of caution. She sensed more than met the eye, a man cautious not of thievery but of something deeper, something concealed. Her lips curved in a quiet acknowledgment of his vigilance, a touch of amusement hiding behind the cryptic veneer of her expression.

Observing him, she contemplated his mannerisms, the restrained way he moved, and the economy of his gestures. This knight of the realm, he held himself back. There was a story behind his eyes, one she intended to uncover.

Recognition flickered in Juste's gaze as he thanked her for the hospitality. His choice of words caught her attention—a subtle emphasis on "our peers" and the idea of her being "lost to the masses." Lilyana perceived the emphasis and felt the weight behind them. He knew, she realized, he understood the role her father had assigned to her this evening. The unspoken words echoed between them, a shared understanding of the orchestrated charade. Ever a connoisseur of nuances, Lilyana detected a soft accent that flavoured his speech. A second language, spoken with mastery yet revealing glimpses of his origins. Another layer to unravel in due time.

Her response was a delicate smile, a subtle nod acknowledging his words. "Indeed, sharing conversation and wine with a fellow knight of Aix would be an honour," she said, her voice a whispered melody. "But to desert the entrance with the absence of my presence? Unthinkable. Who else would extend greetings to our esteemed guests?" A delicate finger tapped her chin in a thoughtful gesture, and a plan took shape behind her eyes.

"Would thee perhaps grace me with thy company through the gardens?" she proposed her voice a soft invitation. "There is a small patio nearby from where we could see the entrance. A place less congested, where conversations may flow freely, no?"

As if in response, her gaze shifted momentarily, meeting her father's frigid stare from across the hall. His disapproval was palpable, the icy daggers he cast her way an unspoken warning. A challenge glinted in Lilyana's eyes, silent defiance directed at the man who sought to control her.

A kiss upon her hand brought her back to the present, Juste's eyes a shield against an impertinent gaze. Her cheeks flushed, a delicate pink tinging her skin, as she smiled anew. "Shameless, Ser Juste. An interesting move," she remarked, her tone a velvet murmur.

With a graceful inclination of her head, she gestured toward the gardens, a realm veiled in the moonlight. "Shall we? Or does the heart of the mansion hold greater allure?" Her gaze sparkled with curiosity.

Roleplay from Juste Lamphear

Message sent to all nobles of Perdan (20 recipients)

Juste: The Briarwood Ball

A careful gaze is cast in the direction of Dame Lilyana's presumed father. Donald did tell Juste about the man, but at the same time, it was also information from Donald. You would need more than a pinch of salt when listening to his opinions.

"Denying your invitation would be folly, Dame Lilyana. The night is still in its infancy. There's yet plenty of time left for me to ignore everyone else here. For I do not recall seeing their signatures on the invitation."

Sir Juste somehow managed to straight his posture even more than it already was as he presents his arm to to his fellow Knight. And while he wasn't trying to make things too obvious, it would likely be clear to Lilyana that Juste was poking the bear. Seems like inciting the ire of her father was a game to him.

Other things for Lilyana to take note of in regards to Juste was the fact that he was still yet young. Though despite his age, he presented himself with the etiquette and mannerisms of someone who was well practiced. Most men his age, even some of nobility would be cocky, especially with being a newly appointed Knight, but not Juste. He was careful and meticulous, almost like he was under some sort of spell.

While they walked, he would start the volley by requesting, "Tell me about your experiences thus far, is it at all like what you expected?"

Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood

(Personal message to Juste Lamphear)

Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns

Lilyana's smile, warm as the moon's glow, held a mischievous glint in her burgundy eyes as she turned her attention to Juste. With a movement that was both inviting and daring, she leaned slightly into him, her arm entwining with his, as if she reveled in the disturbance they had ignited within her father's carefully orchestrated evening.

Their connection seemed to provoke a crack in the veneer of her father's composure; Lilyana could have sworn she heard the chime of a shattering wine glass, a sound that blended harmoniously with her laughter.

"Ser Juste, isn't it curious? How many have come uninvited to an occasion where the few are expected," she mused cryptically, her voice like the soft rustle of leaves.

Together, they strolled into the heart of the moonlit gardens, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets. Her gaze flitted toward Juste, observing the refined poise that set him apart from the knights she often crossed paths with. There was an aura of enchantment surrounding him, as if he were ensnared by a spell, a sensation Lilyana knew intimately.

Juste's inquiry dipped into that of her experiences, drawing her musings to the surface. Her response was wrapped in layers of cryptic candour, her words like riddles threaded with a soft sense of confidence. "In some aspects, yes, it was what I expected," she replied, her voice like the sigh of a breeze. "The realm at times hushed, like the breath held before a storm. And yet, their tapestry is woven with threads of distant tales and subtle politics, adding flavour and colour to the tapestry."

Her gaze lingered on him, the moonlight reflecting in her burgundy eyes. "Combat, too, has graced my path. The cleansing of Clermont, a dance with dangerous beasts. My Heartseekers, once a battalion of forty, found themselves facing loss, yet my brother and I reaped the beasts' final breaths."

She lowered herself gracefully onto a stone seat on a secluded patio, and her eyes locked onto Juste's as she continued, "Yet Aix, the birthplace of my youth, has painted a spectrum of experiences. An enchanting city, isn't it? Its secrets whispered through cobblestone streets."

With a grace that seemed innate, she motioned for him to join her. "And what of thee, Ser Juste? What pages has life penned in thy story? What melodies dance within thy memories?"

Lilyana Briarwood
Dame of Aix

Roleplay from Juste Lamphear

(Personal message to Lilyana Briarwood)

Juste: The Ball of Thorns

It would be noted during their stroll together that Juste makes no attempts to touch Lilyana any more than with the arm he offers her. Despite his smirk as their actions make her father irate, the young knight was a proper gentleman.

"Oh, I do find it curious." He answers her from where he stands as she invites him to sit. "Though I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't already used to it myself. Big family, you see."

He accepts her invitation to sit, a neutral expression across his Visage as it was his turn to volley, "Tread carefully, my dear. A sheltered life is often difficult to study, or even understand. I agree with you on your prospect of our Perdan, as well as our Golden city. Alas, my experiences are not to be so openly discussed. Besides, this night is yours, designed meticulously for you to find your future spouse. We should all be learning so much of our...Mark."

He grins wide. What an odd thing to say.

Juste Lamphear
Knight of Aix

Roleplay from Lilyana Briarwood

(Personal message to Juste Lamphear)

Lilyana: The Ball of Thorns

Her raised eyebrow caught the moon's shimmer, a glint of playful curiosity that seemed to embrace the night's mystique as a spark of intrigue danced in her deep burgundy eyes. His response, wrapped in the poetry of simplicity, drew a nod of understanding from her—a nod accompanied by a soft, almost wistful sigh that seemed to echo through the garden's hushed expanse.

In the delicate lull that followed, her heart seemed to pick up its pace, its rhythm in harmony with the secrets that fluttered through the night like leaves in the wind. Juste's words—the casual mention of a "mark"—held an echo of danger that resonated within her. It was the resonance of a puzzle piece slipping into place, a piece she couldn't yet decipher. His grin, an almost uncharacteristic display of emotion, raised further questions within her.

"Indeed, thy experiences, indeed thy persona this night seems to me, a dance," she agreed, her voice a gentle cadence that brushed against the night's stillness. Her gaze lingered on him, a timeless moment held within the moon's tender grasp. "A dance of veils and shadows, I can't help but ponder the truth that might lie beneath, but thee may keep thy secrets."

A sigh, as soft as the petals brushing against the breeze, flowed from her lips. "Tonight, is both mine and yet not solely so." She leaned slightly, her arm becoming her pillow as strands of obsidian hair kissed her face. The moonlight painted her face with an otherworldly glow as she looked at Juste. "In the tapestry spun by my father's design, this night is meant for me to find my future spouse, this is truth."

Her gaze, deep and inquisitive, held his own. "But the strands of fate are often manipulated by hands beyond our own. There's something about tonight that transcends my father's narrative."

With a coy smile, her free hand gracefully arced through the moonlit air. "No, Ser Lamphear, tonight isn't solely about me. It's about thee, about our fellow higher nobility."

Her smile took on a more playful aspect, a hint of some scheme beneath her smile playing at her expression. "The Court of Thorns, my family's legacy bequeathed upon me, is not a realm for the faint-hearted. Those who dare to tread its paths find themselves entangled in a dance of thorns and whispered secrets, with so few who carry with them kind intentions."

A more genuine warmth entered her gaze as she turned her attention to Juste. "I had hoped this night would serve as a mirror, reflecting the hearts and intentions of those who walk these grounds. A chance to glimpse who among our peers might offer something rare to find in this manor, a friend."

With a gentle step closer, the moonlight seemed to deepen the enigma of her presence. "So, pray tell, Ser Juste, as we stand at this crossroad of destiny, would thee make a good friend?" Her gaze locked onto his unmoving as the garden seemed to hold its breath as her question lingered in the air.

Lilyana Briarwood
Dame of Aix