Kingsley Family/Alyssa/A Crown of Gold

Arylon

Lyanna wondered with awe in what she saw in Perdan. She had never actually been to the city, having only seen it in the distance during battles in and around Troyes and Bescanon. As she had been forced to simply imagine what the true city was like, she believed that the city was certainly splendid, but no more grand than any other city. In the far north, Sirion City -- her city -- was the greatest, most populous, most prosperous, and most influential city known. Its power and authority were unquestioned, and unrivaled. Only one place to Lyanna's experience -- the city of Oligarch, several hundred miles to the south -- surpassed Sirion in size, though it was nowhere near as elegant and beautiful as Sirion was. Oligarch was originally built by brutal clannish orcs, and while the Elves had eventually defeated them in war and rebuilt the city, it still maintained a somewhat rough, utilitarian design. Sirion was still a far grander city.

But this... was remarkable. She had heard tales of the beauty of Perdan City, of course, and intellectually she understood that one of the reasons Perdan was able to constantly fight such overwhelming odds and return to power over the centuries was because of the economic and political power of this city. She knew it was great, but she had no idea that human hands could have engineered something like this. Twice as large in both size and population to her own city, it was also meticulously crafted and designed. The streets were wide and comfortable. The buildings were made of many materials, with expert stonemasonry incorporated into most of the most important buildings. Colors were everywhere, with bricks and colorful paint littering every city block.

Perdan was not crafted by the Elves as Sirion was, and so it lacked some of her city's intricate designs. Missing were many of the curves and carvings, fountains and gardens that she had grown so fond of. But still, this was the most remarkable city she had ever seen.

It was made even more grand as the streets had recently been decorated for wintertime, and (she presumed) the Queen's Coronation. Garlands had been spread out between the buildings, there were lanterns hung from rafters and lines strung overhead which shone brightly. It reminded Lyanna of the festive atmosphere in Sirion around the annual Winter Festival. Perhaps these Perdanese were not so different from her people, after all.

Earlier that day as Lyanna was buying some exotic jewelry in bazaar at the city center, when she heard trumpets blaring from a distance, soon followed by a crush of common people rushing to the interior roadway that was the main artery. She paid her coin for a beautiful blue topaz ring, slipped it on her finger and quickly followed the masses of people. Soon thereafter, she saw the massive procession carrying Queen Alyssa through the streets. She looked tired, but was very clearly putting on a brave face for her people, trying to give them the thrill of saying that the Queen had seen them. The burden of the crown must be immense, to no longer be allowed to simply be tired -- one must be a Queen at all times.

The procession passed by relatively quickly, and was surely headed for the palace. Lyanna found her Captain and asked him to have the soldiers find themselves some accommodations in the city while she attended to the Palace, also ordering him to make sure that none of her men visited the local brothels or did anything that would reflect poorly on themselves, or on her by extension. They were visitors and trying to leave a good impression, and must act accordingly.

Lyanna allowed several hours to pass to give the Queen and her people plenty of time to settle back into the Palace, and in truth she considered perhaps delaying the announcement of her arrival to the city until the following day to give Alyssa more time to relax after her long journey before being forced to call on visitors. She decided against waiting, mostly because there was nothing about announcing her presence that mandated the Queen to see her in any event, and she at least wanted to pay her respects and ensure that it was known she had arrived. If the Queen wanted to wait to see her, that was entirely up to her and she would find no offense to that.

And so she walked to the great doors at the Royal Palace, and encountered two guards who stopped her progress. "State your business, Sirionite," barked the knight on her righthand side.

"My name is Lyanna Arylon, Lord Speaker of Sirion, Duchess of Osmeneliath, Margravine of Sirion City and Ambassador extraordinary and plenipotentiary for the Republic of Sirion. I am here to notify the Queen that I have arrived, and look forward to both meeting with her, and attending her Coronation."

Kingsley

The Queen's footsteps echoed through the quiet halls of the Ducal Palace. Her dress was simple but elegant, her traditional white skirt and bodice, the latter inlaid sparsely with gold trim, to indicate her position as Queen of Perdan. She tightened her woolen shawl, a deep green, snuggly around herself, as she crossed the threshold outside into the palace gardens. At her side followed the big black cane corso who had been her faithful companion for the past several years. She tapped her side once for him to tighten his pace to hers as they came outside.

It had not snowed today, but remnants of the previous falling earlier in the week still clung to the ground. It was a much nicer day, a bit warmer, perfect for a brief winter stroll. Ever since she had returned to the palace she had been locked in rooms writing letters, so the break was sorely needed, and Shadow seemed to enjoy the detour as well dashing off to explore the gardens they had walked together so many times, investigating each bush to ensure there was nothing suspect waiting for his queen. She watched him as she found a seat on an ornate stone bench, waiting patiently and enjoying the brief sunshine before the clouds came again this evening and the inevitable snow would float gently from the heavens upon her garden and her kingdom.

The garden as well was decorated festively for the season and the upcoming event. She had seen the lanterns lit up at night the evening before and it was beautiful. She had even gotten a smile as she and Isana had strolled through this same little section the night before, giggling at some silly trifle. It was light and fluffy, like the remnants of the fallen snow. The smile began to form across her face again as the memory played in her mind. Her little family was all here. Everyone she knew and loved would be here with her, to celebrate their shared history and tradition, and to honour her, as they had honoured her so many times before.

Shadow's bark interrupted her, alerting her to the figure behind. Alyssa turned back with a jolt, her eyes scanning, and her hand falling instinctively to her side. But she relaxed at the sight of the Kingsley guard whose metal boots clanked against the stone walkway. But it was his charge who caught her interest the most. Fiery red hair and a warm friendly smile caught her eye immediately as the guardsman dutifully made introductions.

"Your Majesty: Lyanna Arylon, Lord Speaker of Sirion, Duchess of Osmeneliath, Margravine of Sirion."

He did not get through his mumbled and butchered pronunciation of the old elvish before Alyssa was to her feet, deftly crossing the distance between them and enveloping her friend in a warm hug. "Lyanna... my old friend." She said gently.

The Queen pulled away and offered a warm weary smile, straightening herself and elegantly returning to her typical graceful demeanor. "I am glad you made it."

Everlight/MacArbin

An elegant figure dressed in tailored leather trousers with a tapered leg, governors jacket and calf-high boots approaches Isana’s table.

“Lady Isana, a quick word, if I might?”

She smiles in recognition and inclines her head in invitation. “Ambassador! Of course.”

He takes a seat next to her and leans in conversationally. “As you know, I am helping a few of the dames and knights with making arrangements for the coronation. And I had an idea… I know Her Majesty very much enjoys Starlight.”

The statement seems a question. “She is quite favoured, yes.”

“And I am thinking that a gorgeous saddle from one noble, elegant silver brightwork to grace it from another, and the like would be an appreciated and cohesive set of gifts. Would you concur?”

Ambassador Kenneth was asking her opinion! And what a brilliant idea. The image of Starlight all decked in new trappings prances through her imagination and she flushes with happiness.

“I concur indeed... in fact I had already started in that way, with a recent gift of new saddle blankets for the crisp winter we're having.” Isana informs him. “Ah, I will ensure I do not arrange saddle blankets then!”

“Well…” Isana rubs the side of one digit along her smooth chin thoughtfully. “A set in the colours of Perdan may be appropriate, or a more formal saddle pad. Those I gifted were in her own heraldic colouring.”

“Ah, I quite understand. A gift for the Queen, rather than a gift for Alyssa, as it were." He pauses a moment as though making note of the idea, then continues. "Now, for my own gift, I was considering a further expansion of the Stump in Bescanon, along the lines you designed, to create a truly private retreat with a full suite, if you felt that such might be appreciated.”

Her eyes go round. “Oh! Kenneth are you certain? That would be beautiful... I am sure she would love it, the Riverlands are very dear to her... but that is an extravagant gift!”

Kenneth smiles widely and spreads his hands, palms up. “There are a few benefits to being a Duke, my lady. And if you both will enjoy it, then it will be done.”

Isana’s jaw drops open in a wide grin, her eyes shining. “I... I am speechless. You bring brilliant ideas and incredible gifts. Please, let me know if ever there is a service I can do for you, you do so much for Her Majesty.”

Sir Kenneth bows, and rises with serious eyes. “If she stays sane with the crushing weight of her responsibilities, then that will be service enough. Keep her well, my lady. Keep her well.”

Isana’s smile fades slightly, and a faraway look comes to her eyes. “She bears much. If it is the only thing I do, you can trust I will always give everything I have to keep my beloved Majesty well, and happy too as oft as I can manage it.” Glittering light gathers at the corners of Isana's eyes, as she continues softly, “We are stronger together.”

The Ambassador nods, the woven pattern of his deep blue Ducal circlet glistening as he moves. “That you are, and may it always be so. Many thanks, Lady Isana, and if there is aught else I can do, you have but to name it.”

Brightening, Isana stands to curtsey to the departing Duke. “Always a pleasure, Ambassador. Stay well yourself, and thank you again.”

De Pooh

Pandora had sent a letter home to ask for her family to send a welcoming present to the queen. She figured her mother would know what gift may best suit the new Queen and represents the family.

In the city, Pandora felt warm in the new boots her mother gifted her before leaving home, a pair of well made water-resistant fur boots that were nonslip to ice. Trimmed laces were knotted and braided neatly to hold up its shape towards the knee. It has been several days since Pandora gave her men time to themselves after traveling to Perdan on foot. She had not expected a social event at Perdan and instead, left her formal attire at home in Bescanon. She was drawn to the little tailor store passing through the city for her first time with mannequins showcasing padded gowns.

The streets were busy in comparison to the evening her men arrived at the windy gates. Occasional gusts of wind came from the direction of the mouth openings of the closest gate. Pandora kept her hands deep in the pockets of her amber-colored military coat. Alone, she was able to overhear great excitement about the Queen’s arrival from several ladies entering the shop.

Peering in through the glass window, Pandora could see mannequins in fashionable dresses. Some had long dress trails, some had extra lace around the arm cuttings and some daring with dress slits. One dress in the window particularly had sleeves made out of a reflective, sheer fabric.

Pandora stepped inside and was greeted briefly by a second worker, as the owner was busy entertaining the ladies that had been chatting amongst themselves that just came in. Pandora briefly gazed at the necklaces offered next to the dresses and wondered what the Queen would wear that day.

Browsing through the rack, Pandora felt the reflective sheer lace fabric and was pleasantly surprised that it was not too tough and scratchy. She fell in love with the indigo dress with blue reflective fabric. The dress had a modest neckline, running straight across. The long lace sleeves were delicately cinched at the wrists, and the torso of the dress was cropped. As a two piece, underneath the high-waisted pleated skirt had extra padding for the winter.

The young worker was beyond thrilled that Pandora took an interest, and measurements were taken in a private room. An order was taken, no questions asked, and delivery would be made in several days to the inn.

Storme

Flowers were being delivered from the new Palace’s gardens, the only part of the construction that had gone well the year before had been the gardens and today the last remaining flowers from the growing houses had been clipped, gathered, bundled and delivered. Kegs of fine beer were being heaved up from the bowels of the palace to be opened, liquor was being bottled in the kitchens, confections being delivered from bakeries in the City came a day in advance, as the gates would be closed to commoners tomorrow.

At the center of it all was just one young woman.

The scene around Aila was painfully familiar to her today, and as always missing just one person to make it all feel right. Servants and attendants swarmed the kitchens, throne room, and great hall cleaning and decorating. Outside of Aila’s study a line had formed that extended long down the hallway, and inside the Duchess took just one request at a time- quickly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of work flying at her for tomorrow.

Gideon, her family retainer had cut the line and slid into the room as he was allowed and found Aila standing in front of her desk with arms folded as she is shown two different samples of rich fabric. Gideon recognizes one of them as the window hangings in the throne room- and when Aila points to the opposite design, the woman holding them deflated just slightly. Changing those hangings would take her most of the day.

He takes his place beside her and watches her in command, keeping order, answering questions in a way that made no one cry, so far. He was feeling rather proud of her. “Will you be relieved when tomorrow is over?”

Aila cracks a smile as he interrupts what she is doing, she was well in control but he could tell there was the same sadness clinging to her heart as she did the work she had become familiar with over the years with Smiddich. “Very relieved. No, blue I said blue. The Queens eyes are blue and so blue around the throne-- Do you un--”

The servant nods furiously and flees before Aila can get her words out “They’re scared to death of you” Gid notes.

“If Queen Alyssa marches up to that throne surrounded by red blooms, making her look splotchy, they will have reason to be scared” She warns as the flower arrangement woman retreats even faster.

“Splotchy?”

“You can’t understand, it’s a blonde thing. Golden Lion banners everywhere make it hard enough.”

“Gold is no good for blondes? Your uniform for tomorrow has gold” Gideon is rubbing his eyes now, she’s instantly made him feel exhausted, yet her next thinly veiled insult restores him just as quickly.

“With me it looks wonderful, but it won’t on a plain, pale blonde like Alyssa. ” Aila approaches a dress form standing in the corner of the room wearing her Golden Lion Archer uniform. Perdanese colors trimmed in real gold threadwork, a finely stitched lion. It appeared much like her old one, just far higher quality. As she lifts the sleeve and holds it beside her face Gid and the next servant looking for answers both nod at her.

"You're right. I can see it now." he lies.

Stewart

The warriors wearing Hell's Rain armor arrived in the morning mist. Their commander spoke to each one of them, saying the same words to each.

"Eyes open, swords at the ready, stand strong." He then saluted each one with his arm across his chest.

He, himself would do the same. Remaining out of sight, but vigilant as always. There was a Queen, and friend, to coronate in the days to come. He was ready to give his life to protect her if need be.

Goldwater

Horns blared as soon as the city walls came in sight on that cold, misty morning. The host entered Perdan through the Iron Gate, forcing their way through the crowded streets. At the front, a few soldiers with staffs and knobsticks pushed the locals aside, making way for the rest of them. A young captain rode just behind them, shouting:

"Make way! Make way for the Baillivus!"

After them marched the remaining soldiers, dressed in shining hauberks with heavy cloaks around their shoulders, carrying the colours and banners of house Pryde and Goldwater. Armed with spears and broad axes, silent and determined, these men were clearly soldiers from Bisciye, veterans of the Great northern war.

In their midst rode lord Benjamin, accompanied by his companions and Sir Jacelyn. The younger knight remained slightly behind his liege to display his subordination and loyalty.

Poe

Make way for Duke Lucius

The banging of drums had been the first to be heard, it's tune delightful and energetic. The horns followed next and they hung in the hair triumphantly.

The sound of hooves echoed as horse after horse entered through the gates of Perdan. Easily over one thousand of them all mounted by musicians and Duke Lucius sat amongst them as the musicians began to sing.

Make way for Duke Lucius Say Hey! It's Duke Lucius

Hey! Clear the way in the old bazaar Hey you! Let us through! It's a brand new star! Oh come, be the first on your estate to meet his eye.

Make way! Here he comes! Ring bells, bang the drums! You're gonna love this guy!

Duke Lucius, mighty is he, he's lovely! Strong as ten regular men, definitely! He faced the galloping hordes A hundred bad guys with swords Who sent those bandits to their lords? Why, Duke Lucius of course.

The song continued until well after all the horses had cleared the gates and he had hoped his low key entrance may go slightly unnoticed.

The retinue slowly advanced through the city, headed for the castle.

Daubeny

Apollyon rode out to the front of the Palace on a chariot, he wore a suit of Blackstone Legion Legate Armour, reforged and decorated to be Gold and White instead of the Black and Orange. He wore arm bracers and greaves with dark crimson leggings, he halted his chariot and handed the reins to his personal servants, knowing the Stable Boys wouldn’t know what to do with it.

He walked up the stairs, he could feel the scathing looks from minor nobility as he ascended towards the palace, he knew manner blamed him for the Legion’s threat to Perdan.

Maybe wearing their armour wasn’t a smart choice but Apollyon took pride in his past, parts of it atleast.

He heard a mumble from someone as he walked past a noble couple on the stairs, “Traitor.”

Apollyon felt like he had been punched in the stomach, he heard it all around him now on the crowded stairs, traitor, betrayer, liar, renegade.

Apollyon felt the colour drain from his face and he lowered his head as he pushed his way to top of the stairs, he knew he was here early, but that didn’t matter, maybe he could lend a hand, or if Leandra willed it there could be something he could fight, Apollyon felt angry now, his shame boiling away, he heard the distant blaring of horns and shouts of song. He sighed, well, guess Lucius has arrived, great.

Apollyon entered the palace, he pulled a servant to the side for a moment “Where is the Duchess?”

He was directed to the Duchess’s Study, Apollyon thanked the scared looking man and walked down the hall towards the throne room, he thought he caught a glimpse of a noble woman he hadn’t seen before.

He ignored the line and entered the Study, he gave a light knock on the door.

“Good Day Duchess Storme, do you have a moment?” Apollyon gave Aila a small smile, he gave a nod to her retainer “Hello, Gideon right?”

Storme

Thankfully for Aila the ruckus Duke Lucius was causes occured at the other end of the palace, leaving her in good cheer within her study as she continued to attend matters of the coronation. With her back turned to the door, poring over some plans with Gideon and another attendant she was surprised to hear the familiar sound of a man in armor approaching.

Aila only recognized him by his armor, he was a unique spectacle of a man on any day with his peculiar foreign style of armor and manner. Otherwise it had been so long she might not have known him at all. Aila herself stood wearing a simple red dress, not ready for the ceremony herself except for her hair which had already been carefully wound into an elegant twist of braids held together with a plain silver comb. Gideon her handsome attendant however wore Storme colors, a silver falcon seal on proud display on his breast.

Gideon was the first to reply as Aila was left gawking at Apollyon in a bit of surprise shock "Right, I'm Gideon. Welcome!...?" He looks to Aila who snaps into action at last.

"Daubeny, Apollyon, he's one the knights of Perdan!" As she informs Gideon they both break into friendly and sincere smiles. "He was my first jousting opponent. I was nineteen, he was one of the first to make me feel welcome among the other knights."

"Ah I recognize that name! Interesting to think about...I can't imagine you feeling unwelcome in Perdan now my Lady. How did the joust go?" Gideon had seen her full-body tackle a Duke and so he had become more reluctant to assume anything about her martial skill

"Oh total obliteration for me! At any rate of course I have a moment for you what do you need Sir Apollyon?"

Storme

Apollyons gift wins a smile from her, she does enjoy a good drink at the end of the day but the offer accompanying it surprises Aila, after all the time they had not spoken what gave him this idea today? Well, he was her knight. perhaps he was simply taking the opportunity to reach out... Yet, with an army of servants there were not many tasks left worthy of a man of Apollyon's calibre. "Please, my knight" Aila begins, looking rather touched "You need not concern yourself with lesser issues. After All, you should save all your strength, for your task is far more important than frivolities."

Gideon gives her a strange look, that only grows more confused as she ventures to a sideboard for some glasses, and places one on the desk closest to Apollyon before opening his gift and offering him a taste. The wine may have been rare, but Aila was never known for sitting on a fine vintage; Too much time at a King's side had spoiled her badly "Your job today is to simply witness a ceremony and have a pleasant time. Afterall...I am trying to live up to a big reputation. I can't have my knights on ladders dusting chandeliers when they should be safely on the floor and tipsy". As she speaks she pours herself a glass, and tastes the wine when she finishes "If it pleases you, stay for some drinks while I sort out these attendants." With a wave of her hand another came in and in short order she sent them back out again with ten more tasks.

"Don't have too much" Gideon warns her, annoyed to see her drinking so early in the day. Aila hands him a glass of his own and the protests stop at once.

Storme

Apollyons gift wins a smile from her, she does enjoy a good drink at the end of the day but the offer accompanying it surprises Aila, after all the time they had not spoken what gave him this idea today? Well, he was her knight. perhaps he was simply taking the opportunity to reach out... Yet, with an army of servants there were not many tasks left worthy of a man of Apollyon's calibre. "Please, my knight" Aila begins, looking rather touched "You need not concern yourself with lesser issues. After All, you should save all your strength, for your task is far more important than frivolities."

Gideon gives her a strange look, that only grows more confused as she ventures to a sideboard for some glasses, and places one on the desk closest to Apollyon before opening his gift and offering him a taste. The wine may have been rare, but Aila was never known for sitting on a fine vintage; Too much time at a King's side had spoiled her badly "Your job today is to simply witness a ceremony and have a pleasant time. Afterall...I am trying to live up to a big reputation. I can't have my knights on ladders dusting chandeliers when they should be safely on the floor and tipsy". As she speaks she pours herself a glass, and tastes the wine when she finishes "If it pleases you, stay for some drinks while I sort out these attendants." With a wave of her hand another came in and in short order she sent them back out again with ten more tasks.

"Don't have too much" Gideon warns her, annoyed to see her drinking so early in the day. Aila hands him a glass of his own and the protests stop at once.

Daubeny

Apollyon smiled and took the offered drink, he sipped it, savouring the sweet strawberry taste that rolled down his mouth as the light blue liquid sloshing in the glass.

“Very well then Duchess though I have never struggled with ceremony before.”

Apollyon gave a small grin and a light chuckle “It certainly won’t be as arduous as the Legion’s Blood Oath ceremony, standing in full armour for two days, chanting, this will be a piece of cake comparatively.”

Apollyon looked down at his armour and his expression fell and he appeared sad about something “Duchess, speak truly and freely, do you think I am a traitor to Perdan?”

Apollyon looked up and at Aila, his expression showed he was conflicted about something “I hear that word whispered behind my back more often then I would want it...traitor.”

Apollyon took a sip of the wine “The insult I find being called that is unbelievable and yet I can’t help but find myself agreeing.”

Apollyon smile suddenly returned and he seemed happy if a bit teary “But of course Duchess, I shall stay here and give you some more company whilst the attendants pester you.”

Storme

As Apollyon mention the Legion Aila senses the shift in him instantly, holding her hand up to the next servant sending them back out the door until she is ready. Talk of treachery, whispers, a man who does not know himself anymore.

Gideon regards them both with confusion, and sniffs the drink cautiously as if suspecting there was something off about it to make Aila's knight fall so melancholy so quickly. He sets it aside and takes Aila's too as she moves to approach Apollyon. Placing a slender hand on the large shoulder of his armor she guides him to her seat behind the desk. He is instructed to "Sit" As his Duchess feels that he is exhausted.

"You are my Knight, Sir Apollyon. A knight of Perdan, among the finest in all the Realm. If you were a traitor, Smiddich would have nipped your head off long ago. Alyssa well, " She keeps her mouth buttoned on that one.

"Therefore, if you find it to be an insult that is because it is, a grievous one, and one I won't tolerate. So please; Mark all who accuse you of treachery with a broken appendage of your choice. I shall deal with them as I find them ambling about."

Daubeny

Apollyon turned his head away in shame as he felt Aila put a gentle hand on his shoulder plate. He tried to shift himself away, more ashamed at the emotion he was showing then anything, if this was the Legion he would have been whipped twenty times just for showing the emotion he did now.

He took note of the servants being waved away, he sighed and allowed Aila to guide him to a chair, he sat as he was ordered.

Apollyon stifled a laugh “He would have wouldn’t me, he didn’t even know who I was I reckon, we only met once, as for Alyssa, I doubt she would ever kill me, maybe if....”

Apollyon looked up at Aila and gave her a sympathetic look “I wish to just say I am sorry, I have heard his majesty’s leaving has been hard for you, you are truly remarkable being as strong willed as you are despite it all.”

Apollyon looked away for a moment then shook his head “Let them have their hateful whispers Duchess, better their hate fall on me then the others, I would rather be their focus then another else.”

He took a final sip of the wine, “Worry not Sir Gideon, it’s not the wine, just my mood.” Apollyon gave Gideon a slight smile.

Apollyon then stood “This is your chair I believe Duchess, I will stand next you, we best not keep the servants waiting any longer then necessary.”

Everlight

Cedric sat by on an elegantly brocaded couch watching with interest as Isana’s dark chestnut hair was expertly coiffed into a complex coil of braids atop her head, adorned with sparkling green gems and white pearls. The hair was to be ornate to suit the gown, Sir Kenneth had said. This left the page out of his normal duty, but he stayed by to learn and watch.

The Dame was already dressed: The gown worn by Isana Everlight, ordered from the seamstress Thalia on recommendation of the Ambassador, was a simply tailored long gown of green. But not one green, or two, or even three. The fabric was embroidered heavily with silken leaves working their way through from the bright, delicate green of new spring at the hem, in dappled emerald shading through the fitted bodice up to a bust of the deepest of evergreens, and spreading into fitted sleeves of rich black. Tiny white pearls scattered throughout gave a subtle shimmer. The neckline was wide to display Isana’s strong archer’s shoulders. Deep green gems dangled from her ears, and at her throat a tiny black gem carved into the likeness of a standing wolf hung between two more green sparkling motes on a delicate silver chain. She wore new black leather fittings for the armorial theme: belt and bracers with silver inlay and a polished black hip quiver of shortened, decorative arrows fletched in white, green, and black, and heeled black boots from Allory’s Last.

“There you are, Milady Isana,” the attendant stepped back and curtseyed deeply. “I do hope it’s to your liking.”

Isana thanked the woman warmly and dismissed her, then turned to Cedric.

“Well, Ced, what d’you think?”

The young man nodded mutely, eyes wide, as he took in the spectacle of his Knight in full regalia.

“It’s that bad?” she asked with light sarcasm, feeling an uneasy twist of exhilaration and nerves in her stomach. She turned to view herself in the mirror... and was stunned.

So this was what it was like to dress as high nobility. She felt like a very bold version of herself, but also somehow as though she were looking at someone else. The fine woman who looked back at her was surely one of the fantastical dames of her childhood novels, not Isana Everlight of a small town nobody here had heard of in Beluaterra.

“You look incredible, ‘Sana…” Cedric finally managed in his cracking voice.

“Yeah… I’ve got to agree with you… wow. I owe Sir Kenneth more than I thought. The man has taste. Whoo. Okay. I’d best get out and mingle, I suppose? Something the Queen’s consort ought to do?”

Cedric grinned, noting the blush that had crept up into Isana’s cheeks as she spoke.

“My Lady, if I may suggest, perhaps stop in to see Alys-- er, Her Majesty, before you arrive at the event?”

Isana grinned back at her cheeky page. “Haha, you know, that’s an excellent idea. I’m off then, and mind you’re uniformed and tidy for the celebration afterward, in case I need you.”

---

Storme

As you approach the Palace you will see throngs of peasants gathered outside the walls hoping to steal glimpses of the higher nobility on their arrival. Some crane their necks to see you, others stand far back with their arms crossed, satisfied to watch the fancy horses canter by towing their fancy carriages.

Within the Palace yard an army of grooms, stable hands and attendants worked as efficiently as possible to get the nobility safely in the Palace, with higher nobility given priority by order of the Duchess.

When passing through the grand entrance of the Palace you see there are rows of guards all standing at attention. They are holding Halberd and wearing Perdan colors, all with lions rampant and proud displayed on their tunics. Their formation directs guests further into the entrance where you can see the doors of the throne room are left wide open, two guards on either side. The Duchess has put thought even into the approach her guests would make. There had been huge Perdanese banners hung from the rafters in rows, the artifacts that populated the room normally had all been spruced up, cleaned, shined, and put forward with pride.

The throne room itself is the obvious recipient of hours of detailed care. Flowers of every color are strategically arranged on every wall and under every window. Minor nobility comment frequently on the sweet smell in the room and among the ladies the flowers are the main topic of conversation. Every surface had been cleaned and polished to gleaming, window hangings selected especially for the day have been washed, pressed and put up. The throne itself glimmers at the front of the room surrounded by very specifically blue flowers, with a backdrop of more rampant Lion banners.

Stepping over the threshold, you are immediately met with a booming voice of a herald announcing your arrival to the event. The Herald bows to you curtly before standing back at attention with the guards.

Among all the polite compliments and pleasantries stands the Duchess of perdan, wearing her finest military style uniform with the bracer and guard, proudly denoting her as one of very few archers in the room. She spends her time before the ceremony greeting minor nobility graciously but leaving each guest as quickly as possible trying to get to the next.

Noire

Dustiria paced in the room Aila had her in. Every once and a while she would unroll a scroll and read it again. Burr seems to be enjoying his ride around the room on her shoulder if the loud purr was any indication. Dustiria wondered when the person Aila had chosen to do her hair would arrive or should she just do her usual braid and be done with it. She heard a males footsteps go by and she looked to the door happily but the footsteps went by and the smile faded.

"I thought he had arrived back ... probably busy. Ambassadors always had work." She thought to herself as she started pacing again and reading.

Mercia

Anna had seen the Palace many times in passing, but never quite this opulent nor this populated. The mass of bodies packed tightly together, hopeful to catch a peek of finely dressed noble guests, are first to draw the attention of the sable-haired girl, her lips curved downward at the edges, her expression steely and scrutinizing. Those that meet her eye are quick to look away. A man stands outside the door of her carriage, offering his hand in assistance, and is promptly ignored before moving on to the next arriving noble. Anna's eyes sweep the area, lingering on the draping banners and regal decor, and despite her earlier expression, she appears to be mildly impressed, or perhaps simply approving. As she carries herself inside, a man's voice declares her presence.

"Dame Anna of Dimwood!"

The knight dips her head with a cordial smile to those that offer one to her, perhaps a tad facetious to those closely observing her mannerisms. A glance is cast sidelong at the unfamiliar woman with the creature perched on her shoulders, offered naught but a quirked brow before Anna's focus is pulled to the floral arrangements. Her chest rises and falls as she breathes in the sweetly scented air and moves through the mingling figures on to the throne room. Her gaze comes to rest of the Duchess, tracking her movements closely and waiting for an opening. Rather impatiently, though, Anna saunters up to the woman as she's conversing with another guest.

"Duchess Aila," she greets in a silky alto voice, "What a lovely reception this is."

It may be difficult to tell just how genuine she's being with the deadpan expression that accompanies her words, though she does respectfully dip her head before allowing her eyes to flit about the room again.

Dubhaine

"Ambassador The Baroness Evora!" the Stentorian voice announced the arrival of Brigdha's party. The Ambassador herself was a picture of formal courtly propriety most add odds with her usual priestly attire, dressed in an elegant ivory slipper-satin empire-line gown with matching evening gloves, her discretely jewelled white gold tiara blending effortless with the thin traceries of grey visible in her impeccably coifed raven locks. The effect was as the lightest dusting of snow in the high mountain passes. Fitting really considering that she made her home amongst the highest peaks of Evora.

"Captain The Baron-Consort Evora!" her companion was a finely-built warrior despite his advancing years, the midnight blue of his dress uniform discretely decorated with obscure battle honours earned in service to many northern realms: Fontan, Sirion, Dunnera, and for many years now Shadowdale. A scabbarded dress sword jogged lightly at his hip with each step of his polished black boots. It was rare for Bedhwyr to attend formal events or use his official title. His presence denoted the high respect in which Lady Dubhaine held her hostess, the new Duchess of Perdan.

"Princess Anagridh Elune Serpentis and companion!" the Elven aristocrat stood head and shoulders above Leopald, former Captain of the Ghost Watch and head of the Ambassador's security detail, her haughty stature as striking as the scarlet silks, flowing damasks, and ruinously expensive accoutrements of ancient Elven royalty. Leopald by contrast was a somewhat unimposing fellow, his dress uniform the charcoal grey of the Ghost Watch with appropriate rank and insignia. Like Bedhwyr he wore a scabbarded sword at his hip, a pair of dress gloves tucked smartly into his belt.

Goldwater

A group of nobles entered the throneroom, stopping by the herald.

"Lord Baillivus Benjamin of Bisciye and his wife!"

Quickly overlooking the small crowd, the herald continued,

"Sir Jacelyn of Aldburg!"

Jacelyn, dressed in his black brocade pourpoint with a heavy, furry, golden cloak around his shoulders, followed Benjamin and his companions into the room. Staying just behind his lord and his wife, Jacelyn's face showed no emotion as he overlooked the crowded hall.

The group of sturdy Bisciyans slowly made their way through the crowd, stopping in the front rows.

Poe

Lucius sneered as the pungent odour of poorness hung in the air outside of the palace. "Why are all the low born here" He spat.

His armour was heavy, it's colour was black and grey with a dark grey cloak over it with the hood pulled up. His right pauldron resembled that of a snarling dragon. Lucius stepped over the threshold and lowered his hood. "Lucius Poe. The Duke of the Golden City and Margrave of Aix" the Herald bellowed.

He strutted past the herald, his heavy sabatons echoing across the hall as he went and took his place.

Everwind

"Amelara Everwind, Dame of Clermont!"

The young dame swallowed, filled with nerves, the feeling of being announced into such an event seeming incredibly overwhelming! Just as heads were starting to turn, wondering where the just announced attendee was, she stepped forward bravely.

One to usually dress to impress whenever she can, even Amelara felt foreign and undeserving in the elegant attire she wore today. Having sought assistance from Ser Kenneth, it had been a rush to get such attire ready - but Mastercrafter Estelle had been a saviour for her, albeit a rather harsh one.

She tried hard to keep the excitement from her face - she was a dame now! No longer a child dreaming of queens and kings, castles and battles. That was a reality now, and how she was enjoying the opportunity to look beautiful and attend this important event.

Remembering her etiquette lessons clearly, she gracefully moves to take her place

Storme

Some new knights had arrived, an opportunity to escape from the lower nobility and ascend to the company she belonged with. As if reading her mind, the woman heralded as Dame Anna of Dimwood approaches her abruptly. Duchess Aila turns from a fat little wife of a lord with her famously shrewd little smile to regard this new Lady of the realm. Internally Aila checks off all the boxes that determined whether or not she had the time of day for someone. Young, beautiful, dressed well for the occasion, and with a distinct air of superiority. Yes, Aila liked this one.

Oh and manners as well "Good evening Dame Anna, what a pleasure to meet you so soon after your debut" Aila returned Anna's good manners with the practiced ease of someone who had been to more than a few social events. Deadpan or not, the lines were all the same; "I hope you do enjoy yourself. The ceremony is a traditional affair, but I have the finest libations to celebrate afterward"

Aila turns her attention from the Dame momentarily to watch the Duke of Aix make his entrance and promptly forget what she asked him to do for her. Disappointment in men was not new to this lady, she covered her annoyance with a false smile "If you need anything please do ask".

The next name announced caused Aila to whirl around to witness, Brigdha- who she thought the world of and just as excitingly, what appeared to be her family. After the dark tales they had shared Aila had never found the courage to ask the status of her immediate family; seeing them warmed Aila's heart a great deal. As an afterthought she informs Anna "A Priestess from Shadowdale, very mysterious but lovely Lady"

Poe

A shadow soon eclipsed the minor lord and his voluptuous wife as black gauntlets rested on the back of both their necks.

"F*ck off".

Lucius followed after the Duchess to ensure she wasn't side tracked by the riff raff that claim to be nobility.

Daubeny

Apollyon entered the hall, he remembered the Duchess’s words maybe he would take her up on the offer. He made his way over to Alyssa, he gave a short bow “Good Day your Grace you are looking well, I hope you enjoy you day.”

Apollyon gave a quick smile to the dame she was talking too and continued, he made passing greetings here and there, he almost ran into Jacelyn “Ah Sir Jacelyn of Aldburg, good to see you again, tell me how’s the head treating you?”

Apollyon smirked and walked off before Jacelyn could respond, as he made his way around the room, he heard the odd whisper and saw glares cast his way, he ignored it.

Apollyon almost ran into another man “Ah Sir Pendleton, a pleasure how goes the trade in Aix?”

The weasel looking man sneered “Well enough Sir Blackstone, how is your Legion? Killed any orphans recently?”

Apollyon felt like he had been slapped, he felt his anger flaring, The weasel grin was ugly almost as much as his face “Sorry Blackstone did I strike a nerve?”

Apollyon let out a sigh “No, you didn’t, good day Sir.” With that he turned and began to walk away when the Weasel snickered “So it’s true, you do have no spine.”

Apollyon stopped, he clenched his fist and spun back to face the weasel, Apollyon pulled him up by the collar, Apollyon was much taller then the man and he glared daggers at the weasel.

“It will be you lacking a spine if I hear one more word of insult from that dung heap you call a mouth, am I understood.” Apollyon’s voice was a low and dangerous growl and the weasel in his hands all but fainted “Y-yes Sir Daubeny, of course, my apologies.”

Apollyon dropped the man who landed hard on his rear before scampering off, Apollyon looked around as many minor nobility glared at him, he could hear the whispers and murmuring of insults.

Apollyon pushed past and went to the other side of the hall.

Navaar

A young man wrapped in an awkwardly fitting cloak was the next to approach the Ducal Palace. It stuck out in strange places, concealing something underneath. Walking with a staff, he approached the guards purposefully, showing an experienced confidence one of his age normally would not have. The guards let him past as he bore not only the crest of the Navaar family, but he was also the Prophet of the Aspects of the Flame. He walked with a staff. People craned their necks to see the man as he walked the final steps towards the palace. If they were close enough, they may have seen the sparks from time to time as his staff hit the ground.

---

From the Journals of Cayden Navaar Alexandria: Day 17

Even though it has not been long since I left Perdan, it feels like much has changed. Today I go to the coronation of Queen Alyssa back in my old capital. I suppose I should make an entrance befitting one of my position. Though he may never read this, I shall dedicate this entrance to Duke Lucius Poe, the Master of the Dramatic, my former Liege in Aix.

---

When Cayden reached the steps he stopped and looked up. His back was to the crowd as he shrugged his cloak off and onto the ground revealing the great axe he used to carry into battle with him, now serving more as a threat than anything else. The Prophet looked more like a warrior than a priest in person. With a fluid motion, he dragged the staff along the ground, striking the flint on the bottom along the paved roadway. Sparks flew, and as they landed on his cloak, the cloth ignited. Quickly, the cloak was burning in a blaze of a five colors, each representing a branch in his faith. Like Cayden's path, the red flame was the most prominent. Finishing the circle, he didn't look back at his cloak as he made his way up the steps, offering the staff and axe to the guards inside.

"Announcing, Cayden Navaar, Prophet of the Aspects of the Flame, Knight of the Altar of Flames!"

MacArbin

Kenneth grinned as the carriage rolled to a halt. He had heard of Lucius' song-and-dance entrance, as well as his spat with Aila over which of them was the "party Duke" of Perdan, and he had his own salvo planned in that particular fray.

"Ready, dearest?"

Dustiria just smiled back as the door opened.

Their troops were arrayed in proper honour guard regalia for the evening, and as they reached the herald, Kenneth's teeth shone out, ready to see what impact they had together.

And this is where his patronage of Thalia, and putting up with her various eccentricities and experiments, paid off. The pair were arrayed in what was clearly designed to be two halves of a single piece of art, recalling their heraldry and colours. The cut was subtly avian, recalling their house sigils, with a waft of fabric from the shoulders that barely hinted at wings. Their shoes had the sharp severity of talons, and the ripples in the blues and purples, the golds and blacks, brought to mind luxurious plumage. Their hair was decorated with flashes of tiger's-eye, perhaps better called hawk's-eye for this night, which Burr just could not leave alone.

"Her Eminence Judge-Magister Dustiria, of the House of Noire, and His Grace Duke Kenneth, of the House MacArbin!"

Vulparan

The young knight swept his hazelnut hair backwards, a comforting act that he has increasingly accustomed to in the stress of noble life. Sir Daario was a picture of practicality, earthen tones dominating his functional ensemble, garnished only by a small silver fox brooch pinned over his heart. Dark riding boots strapped tightly up to his shins echoed loudly in the relatively empty passageway as the knight paced forwards.

A deep breath, another running of hand through hair, and a nod to the guards in their full regalia - with that, the heavy oaken doors straddling the cusp to the grand hall were swung open wide. The echo of his riding boots was drowned out instantly as the roaring humdrum of the packed hall washed over the young knight like a wave.

"Sir Daario of House Vulparan," the herald bellowed, "Knight of Perdan and of the Estate at Crooked Pathway!"

Daario took a purposeful step forward and bowed his head with dramatic gravity, lingering completely still - head inclined reverently - for a moment before wading into the bustling mass of nobles and well-wishers here to celebrate the fresh, some say exciting and perhaps even epochal, era that her majesty Queen Alyssa I heralds for Perdan.