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."

Arylon

Lyanna was overwhelmed. It was a strange thing to be here in front of her oldest and closest friend, Alyssa Kingsley -- they had only met in person once, now so many years ago on the field of battle, where they had initially formed a kindred friendship. Since that time, they had often seen each other from a distance, often sending help and messages back and forth to each other, but had never again been able to connect in person. Their friendship has, for years, been cultivated entirely by letters.

Those letters meant the world to Lyanna. Alone among the people in her life, she was able to tell Alyssa what was truly on her mind -- her hopes, her fears, her failures and her ambition -- and Alyssa had done the same in return. Oddly, this Perdanese woman from so far away understood her better, knew more about what was in her heart, and was a constant source of encouragement and advice whereas those around her in Sirion often felt like they didn't know her at all. And now, Alyssa was Queen -- something that Lyanna had told her was in her future years ago... something that Lyanna had encouraged her to pursue more than once. And now, Perdan was hers.

"Thank you so much for inviting me to share this celebration with you, Your Highness," said Lyanna.

Alyssa smiled. "You know, I honestly never thought that we would see each other in person again. I'm so pleased you could be here."

Lyanna nodded "Neither did I. But then, I never truly thought that blasted war would end. This is a moment we both dreamed of for so long. Now, we have a chance to build something remarkable, and permanently change the face of this continent. Can you imagine it, Your Highness? Perdan and Sirion embracing in friendship, as we have done here today?"

Once again, the Queen smiled and nodded in approval.

"I know there is an official process that I am supposed to go through for this," said Lyanna softly, almost embarrassed, "but I wanted to present you with this gift from me, in the name of our friendship and on behalf of the people of Sirion, to mark this historic occasion." Lyanna was wearing an elegantly adorned red and gold jacket, and reached into a pocket on her left breast, withdrawing a small object and handing it to the Queen.

Alyssa looked down into her hand, and saw a breathtaking ring made of what appeared to be white gold, with a remarkable emerald at its center. It had a curved, elongated shape to it, with intricately designed carvings. Puzzled, Alyssa raised her eyes and looked at Lyanna questioningly.

"It is called Turinqui Laimaril, Your Highness, which is Elvish for The Queen's Emerald," explained Lyanna. "As you know, Sirion has no Queen, as we are a republic. This ring was actually forged by the Elves thousands of years ago, and it was given to the ancient Queens of the Elvish kingdom that stood where Sirion does today. You may not know this, but most Elvish realms were ruled by a Queen, not a King, and this was worn by some of the most powerful and wise of them. The last known Elvish Queen to wear this ring was Aranel the Illustrious, who is one of the most legendary rulers in Elven history. She unified all the disparate realms under one banner and confronted the hordes that infested East Continent so long ago. She died fighting in what was ultimately a pyrrhic victory for the Elves, destroying most of their kingdoms and driving them into the forests, which is what allowed men to settle in the north."

Alyssa seemed genuinely moved by the gesture. "Lyanna, I..."

"A great Queen once wore this ring, Your Highness," continued Lyanna. "A great Queen will wear it now once again. I know we have many things to discuss -- our war with Shadowdale, Yssrgard, Perleone, and of course and enduring peace and friendship between our realms. But at this moment, on this day, as you ready yourself for your coronation, I wanted you to be filled with joy and happiness, and so I hope you accept this token of my friendship, and the friendship of all of Sirion's people. May your rule be long and prosperous."

With that, she bowed in respect and deference to her friend.

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.”

Everlight

Isana peered into the room where a familiar and fond older lady was fussing over their coronation subject. Alyssa was seated motionless in front of a polished looking-glass while her aunt, looking like an artisan in her shop with a table full of hairstyling accoutrements, carefully brushed and pinned her hair.

Lady Kingsley caught sight of her standing in the door and dimpled, waving her in with one hand, her mouth full of hairpins.

Isana glided quietly into the room, fresh green hem of the extravagant dress tickling the floor, and appeared in the mirror over Alyssa’s shoulder.

"A little something for you before the event, my love,” she said softly, and kissed Alyssa’s cheek.

Alyssa gulped as she took in her partner's finery through the reflective glass. She stared for a few seconds, taking her partner in before turning in her chair to see her properly. She gulped again. Lady Kingsley deflated, while Alyssa took Isana's hand.

"You are beautiful." She said dumbly, still enchanted at the sight of her dearest in the finest of dresses. Lady Kingsley rolled her eyes with an exasperated smile.

"Yes she is, my dear queen, now it is your turn, but you must keep your head still, or the pins will fall out." Alyssa sighed and turned back to the mirror, as her aunt went back to work.

Isana dared the exasperation of Lady Kingsley once more, bowing over Alyssa’s hand to kiss it and give a wink to those deep blue eyes that sparkled back.

“Can’t wait to see you soon, darling. Thank you, Lady Kingsley.”

She curtseyed to them both with as much elegance as she could muster, and made her way out to journey the busy corridor to the main event.

Noire

Dustiria squeezes Kenneth's hand then makes her way with Burr through the crowd and out a side door. She grabs a basket she asked to be set aside for her and heads to where Alyssa is getting ready. Alila had told her they would be taking the stage together with others so it just made sense to sneak in giving Alyssa her gift before the chaos ahead started. No one seeing her would see any emotion from her face but those that knew her would notice her gloved hand held the basket tighter than it warranted. The only sign of her internal nervousness for the days proceedings. She had come a long way from the girl riding horses and running amok like a boy. Dustiria currently was wishing she had had those etiquette lessons she had heard of. She waved away the guard at the door and entered letting a nervous smile show as she set eyes on one of her oldest and dearest friends. She set the basket down. Inside it held three bottles of Belmont special reserve, a dozen pure white duck feather quills, blue ink in a crystal container, and parchment with Alyssa's new Queen seal done in full color at the top page . The ream tied in a blue ribbon. "Thought I would give you this before we have to deal with well everything that follows today. I am so very proud of you and all that you have accomplished and all you will do for Perdan and her people. Now lets hope I don't miss your head when I crown it. Is it too late to go back to just the guard behind you?" she laughs and a hand pushes Burr away from her hair again.

Kingsley

The Queen of Perdan sat stiff and motionless before the looking glass.  Alyssa had insisted cosmetics were not necessary, but her aunt, who now hovered over her handling the queen's golden locks, would not budge on the subject.  Alyssa had forgotten in the seven years she had been gone how stubborn the woman could be, even in spite of Her Majesty's royal status. 

In the end it was her dear uncle who had brokered the compromise, the smallest amount of cosmetic possible, lightly applied to enhance her features, and no more.  In exchange, Lady Kingsley had full reign over the Queen's hair styling, a task which she took too quite seriously, curling, tying, pinning and weaving the golden strands of Alyssa's hair.  It brought back memories of her childhood, her aunt fixing her hair in preparation from a visit from some knight or petty lord seeking her uncle's knowledge or records.  Those memories had always seemed fond to Alyssa on distant campaigns as she thought of home, though as one of the pins pinched her she reconsidered slightly.  Alyssa bit her lip and bore it, she had experienced far worse pain in her life after all.

It was then Isana Everlight graced them with her presence, the woman swept into the suite with elegance, her emerald dress shimmering with white pearls contrasting the black accents of her accessories.  Alyssa could not look away from the woman in her pure elegance as she strode over to where the queen was seated.

"You are beautiful." Alyssa said still entranced.  Isana smiled at this which only brightened her even more.  Alyssa knew she likely would have stared even longer had her aunt not shooed her away, an unfortunate necessity.  Isana took her hand placed a gentle kiss upon it and a parted with a smile, Alyssa watching her as she walked away and slid back out the door to return to the throne room.  She could see her aunt roll her eyes in the mirror, but the little smile she gave reassured Alyssa of her aunt's approval.

"You should not look at me that way, auntie. I am the queen now."  Alyssa noted with some mock sternness.  She found her mood had improved greatly quite suddenly and allowed herself the small indulgence of a playful conversation with her aunt.

"That's true," Replied her aunt in an exaggerated tone as she continued to style the queen's hair. "But I did raise you, Your Majesty, and with all you put me through during your girlhood, I believe it is only right for me to tease you a little now.

Alyssa smiled at this, but said nothing losing herself in thoughts of the coming days.  Of the difficult decisions she would have to make, and of her hopes for her people.  A comfortable silence came over the queen and her beloved aunt as her hair was curled and braided, and pinned, each woman left to the thoughts of her future.  

Alyssa heard the footsteps outside the door first and instinctively turned to the door as the handle turned, to her aunt's frustration.  "I'm going to lock that door."  She said under her breath as the Judge-Magister stepped into the room, cat perched upon her shoulder.

"Dustiria." "Lady Nascot."

Alyssa's tone was gentler than her aunt's, who hid her frustration at the constant interruptions well enough while still making her feelings known, and went back to tending to the queen's golden hair.  Dustiria set the basket of gifts down and stood before the queen who sat still in her chair watching her hairdresser work in the looking glass. "Thought I would give you this before we have to deal with well everything that follows today. I am so very proud of you and all that you have accomplished and all you will do for Perdan and her people. Now lets hope I don't miss your head when I crown it. Is it too late to go back to just the guard behind you?"

At this Alyssa smiled briefly, the memories of their time together coming back, though quickly followed by other memories which faded the smile into her typical stoic expression.

"Ah. No Dustiria, that won't be necessary.  I have the realm to protect me, as I intend to protect you all as well.  And our kingdom boasts the finest knights on The Continent.  I am in good hands."  She said hoping to reassure her friend.  "Thank you for the gifts.  Not mingling with the other guests?"

Peregrine

Ser Ambrose reached the great hall right on time. The preparations were almost over and he only had a few moments to mingle. A few familiar faces instantly stood out in the crowd and the knight made sure to greet each of them even if briefly.

Brighda the ubiquitos was here and he offered her a polite nod and a firm kiss on the hand. "A pleasure to meet you here, my lady. How are things back in Shadowdale? I've heard the war is drawing to an end."

After a courteous exchange with the old priestess, Ambrose greeted the four warriors of Perdan he briefly met at the tourney. The proud and boisterous Duke Lucius. Young Ser Daario, a dashing young man whose accomplishments were yet to catch up with his ambition. The rough looking Lord Ulric who looked more like a relentless hunter than a ballroom courtier. And the legendary Ser Druzil, an ancient king turned knight. "Accept my congratulations, my lords. You have all performed well at the tourney. My ribs are still aching from your blows, Your Grace. And you, Ser Druzil, I hope you do not bear a grudge. It was my lucky day at the tilts, there was just no way anyone could unhorse me."

Finally he approached Lord Tyrann and offered his hand with a faint smile. "It's good to find another noble representing the Griffin court. I bear gifts from king Preston. Let us present them together once the coronation ceremony is over."

Sharpspeare

"Accept my congratulations, my lords. You have all performed well at the tourney. My ribs are still aching from your blows, Your Grace. And you, Ser Druzil, I hope you do not bear a grudge. It was my lucky day at the tilts, there was just no way anyone could unhorse me."

Druzil chuckled to himself. The tourney was a fine affair. There was no shame in loosing. He would have to keep an eye on that one though.

After a few moments, a servant entered the hall and quickly went to his lord. "Mi'lord, the Red Langor you requested," the man replied as he handed the prized wine to Druzil. "Thank you, that will be all for now." The servant bowed his head, turned on his heel, and left just as quickly as he arrived.

Druzil went up and approached the table bearing gifts for the Queen. Druzil left his gift, grown from his own vineyard, on the table with a letter. It read 'Your Majesty, it has been an honor to serve under your command and it will be an honor to serve umder your leadership as Queen. Please accept my bottle of Red Langor, fostered by mine own hand. Wine, like realms, require a steady hand and vision to mature correctly. I am sure Perdan will ripen under your steady hand. Sincerely, Sir Druzil'

After placing his gift (rather late, but you can't rush wine if you want it right), he searched out that Ser Ambrose. He would enjoying sharing a conversation with that knight.

---

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!"

Chamberlain

She set aside the letter, a wry smile coming to her lips. She had half expected this, and had allowed the maids to oil her curls so that her, at times, unruly hair fell in an ebon cascade around her shoulders.

The Ora'n Diadem, was a simple silver band with an etched filigree filled with the powdered fire opels mined from the basalt at Chaos Temple.... back when there was a Chaos Temple, tracing the lines in a flashing lustre. She wore it now, borrowed from her future inheritance.

The dress was a black brocade, though the fabric itself was lightweight. The bodice sinched at the waist with corsetry that emphasised and advertised her usually modest décolletage. The full length sleeves stretched over the shape of her arms in a fine black lace with ribbon banding. A soft leather pulled the sleeves and bodice together, covering shoulders and giving a lightly raised collar, the two sides being joined by a fire opel broch at the top of her sternum.

She arrived at the Ducal Palace alone, unattended and empty handed. Apollyon had asked for her company but she had been unsure whether she would be able to attend, and as numerous servants and heralds had informed her, the coronation was ongoing.... She sat by the concierge, electing to wait out the ceremony and join her realmmates in the Coronation ball that would undoubtedly follow.

The concierge looked to her. "How would you have me introduce you Ma'am?"

She raised an eyebrow toward him as she applied rouge to her lips. Smiling sweetly she handed him the paper: "I have a list..."

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!"

Everlight

The scent of myriad flowers drifted to her nose even before the noise of the great hall. That Duchess Aila had arranged to keep them blooming so late into winter was incredible. By the sound that rumbled to her ears, the great hall was already quite well attended.

Isana took a couple of deep breaths, then stepped up and nodded to the herald before looking out over the assembled crowd.

“The Dame Isana of House Everlight, Dawnstar of the Riverlands, Knight of Perdan!”

De Pooh

Two presents were left on the table in her room, one with small reflective gold specks and thin red ribbons wrapped around a clear glass jar in a teardrop shape from within. Pandora recognized the precious raw honey and could not help but to salivate. She hoped to enjoy the royal delight with the new queen one day, a spicy yet floral scent on toast together. Filled to the brim, the glass jar contained a thin layer of honeycomb. A honey that warms and tingles the lip that only a bee would die for.

The other package was to be the dress she had ordered. An unusual perfume came off of the package. A small holographic note reads, “Heading to the coronation? Special alterations were much needed to be made, thank me later. xoxo —Thalia Chanel-Hilfiger”

At first, she thought she had put her top on backwards. In disbelief, the top was adjusted back to the front, then front to the back. Pandora’s mouth was agape. The modest neckline of the opaque indigo turned into the deepest and widest of all v lines she has seen. Fortunately, the fabric underneath held her dignity. The sheer lace with flower-like embroidery barely covered anything without the sides of the v, remarkable that it was all fitted. Pandora remedies her situation by draping on her military coat with the first button, hoping any reason to uncover herself would not come so soon as she steps into the carriage.

With the queen’s present in her hands. the carriage made an abrupt stop. A large crowd can be heard whispering amongst each other about the next noble to arrive to the coronation, unable to see what family the they belong to.

Stepping out of the carriage, Pandora kept her head held high. Her hair was combed straight down, as she did not hire a hairdresser in time for the event for an up-do. A golden wired hairpin in the shape of a small bee clips to the side of her hairline. She lowers her shoulders, slowly relaxes her neck and with one breath, tightens her abdomen. Not knowing what to expect, she can only offer herself to this world. She thinks of the letter Queen Alyssa wrote to her- maybe she will have a chance to meet her?

“Dame Pandora, of House de Pooh!”

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.

Dubhaine

"It seems Duchess Aila has quite the gift for organisation," Bedhwyr lifted two flutes from a passing tray, sniffing both discretely before handing one to his helpmeet. Or was he the helpmeet? He never could remember. As with many matters involving the enigmatic Ambassador there was a carefully cultivated ambiguity to their relationship which a lesser man would have found maddening. But then again, a lesser man would long since have lost her interest. Of all the Dubhaine matriarchs only Brigdha had chosen a life mate .

"I never doubted it dearest," their glasses gently clinked a silent toast, "Her Grace is very much a creature of firm intentions, not easily distracted from a goal when she sets her mind to it." Brigdha smiled inwardly as she remembered her first accidental meeting with the young Aila during her visit to Evora. That was back when King Smiddich had been Perdan's Ambassador, a role he performed with considerably more wit than many who'd worn that title before him, and the young Aila had been refreshingly - even charmingly - plainspoken.

"I was surprised you agreed to accompany me," Brigdha sipped her wine, the bubbles tickling the fine hairs at the tip of her nose, "You wouldn't normally be seen dead at an affair like this."

It was true. Bedhwyr was happiest hunting with hawk and shaft, often disappearing off into the wilderness for weeks at a time with their son Naevan, only to return with some tall tale of adventure. Brigdha liked to think that was where Etain got her wild streak from, though doubtless her mother's Serpentis blood played a role in that. She wondered idly where her granddaughter was. The instruction to meet them in Perdan had been quite clear and she anticipated the usual carefully thought out excuse of some perilous adventure that was deemed more important than being scrubbed up presentably for High Society. Balance knows she'd given the lass ample time to grow out of her wildness and prepare for the strictures of noblesse obligé.

The Baron-Consort squeezed her hand, breaking into her reverie, discretely mouthing the word "Perdan" without so much as a whisper.

She could hardly blame him. Many of those who dwelt north of the Bescanon or east of the mountains remembered a very different Perdan to the one she'd come to know in recent years. And out in the wildlands where feuds were nursed generation to generation like fine vintages? Well, there a murdered kinsman might be repaid to the sixth or seventh generation. What was that old saying? Before you embark on revenge dig two graves...

Brigdha had already done that long ago and then some. Carl, the father she could never acknowledge, Rhidhanaand Aednadh the sister's kin she could not save. For a moment a deep and abiding sorrow threatened to well up inside her and a definite chill was felt by those nearby as if a zephyr in the high mountain passes had somewhat found its way into the warm beating heart of the Palace, but it died on the instant and the corners of the Sorceress's eyes creased, her cheeks flushed as a broad smile spread across her features. It really was adorable that he thought she needed his protection!

"If I'd known you were so eager to see Perdan up close I'd have invited you sooner," she teased, knowing full well that this wasn't his first visit to the heartland of the 'auld en'my' as he liked to call it.

Peregrine

Fifty riders approached the Lion's Gate from the south. They were not dressed in actual uniform but they all sported robust blued steel breastplates, which glistened from under long black capes. The man at the fore was dressed pretty much the same as his retinue. If not for a masterfully crafted winged helmet and a golden chain clasping the cape on his chest. A young squire who rode by his side wore a livery marked with a sigil of black swooping falcon over a white mountain. Yet the banner over his head was that of a red griffin on a golden field, the royal sigil of Caligus. At the rear of the procession two carts could be seen, their contents concealed by silk covers.

The stranger apparently had his papers in order as the guards immediately let his company through, after only briefly checking the carts and looking under the covers. Making their way through the city, the riders did draw some attention. The worldly and the eductaed ones could recognize the man as Ser Ambrose, the winner of the latest jousting tourney in Isadril. The man was in his peak shape and wore the tourney winner's laurels. That alone somewhat mitigated the plainness of his face and the absence of hair.

It was his first visit to Perdan and so he took his time too look around. Ambrose was not born in Perdan, but he knew full well that this city was the craddle of his noble house. Many knights and dames of his line were buried at the local cemetery. That did not matter though. He came here to hail the living. And so he rode to the royal palace to learn if the inauguration ceremony has already begun.

Vorn

Shortly after all the other nobles arrived a lone figure of a girl walked swiftly to the doors of the Palace. Moving to the first servant she saw she said, “Hi I’m Isabel Vorn I don’t normally come to thing things where do I go?” The maid motioned to follow and led Isabel to the throne room. Isabel quickly mixed into the crowd hiding a small wrapped package.

---

Storme

As each noble is announced upon their entry their well known family names cause all attention to fall on them, their fine regalia, and whoever might be lucky enough to be on their arm. There is a great buzz in the throne room as some people mingle while others file directly to their place. The host, Aila who was once lost in the swarm is now very obvious as the Duke Lucius Poe maintains a wide berth around her; with force if required.

When it seems that all have arrived, the pair of them climb the steps of the dias at the front of the room, the best view in the house save those who would actually be involved in the ceremony shortly. With the host in place, all in the throneroom begin making their way to their designated areas. Perdanese nobles know these rules well, Council members stand at the center, at the side of their Queen as she is Crowned. Dukes to the front, followed by Priests, Lords, knights, and finally the minor nobility.

The Judge Magister Dustiria Noire will have the honour of bestowing the crown, Isana Everlight the bearer of the ancient crown. In a short time, every lion will take their place and the Crowning Ceremony for Queen Alyssa Kingsley will begin.

Kingsley

Lady Kingsley took a step back, admiring her work.  Weaves of blonde braids coiled and linked together in a golden crown, weaving together into a sturdy, elaborate bun of woven braids.  She slid in Alyssa's silver hairpin, the little wolf charm dangling from the upper tip to finish, smiling proudly at her niece in the mirror.

"You look regal, Your Majesty."

Your Majesty. It still didn't feel quite real.  As if Kay or Smiddich were in the room, and she was talking to them.  Alyssa had never dreamed of being queen.  Only to do everything she could for the people and ideals the rampant lion stood for.  What this woman had taught her it stood for.  But here she was, and in a few minutes the crown would lay upon her head, and the world would witness Queen Alyssa of Perdan.  She looked up at the matronly woman standing behind her.  You will be proud of my reign.

"Thank you, Auntie."  the queen replied gently, with a solemn hint of resolve.

The moment was interrupted by a knock at the door as a palace courtier peaking her head through the door.  "Your Majesty."  She muttered deferentially stealing a glance at Dustiria.  "Lady Judge-Magister.  They are ready."

Alyssa looked over to her friend and gave a resolute nod.  "Are you ready, Dustiria?"

Dustiria affirmed and the queen stood to her feet, giving her aunt a hug and inspecting herself in the mirror one final time.  She loved her hair, and her exquisite white dress flowed around her, the skirt hanging well off her hips and moving like a gentle breeze as she moved.  Golden trims affixed to the bodice gave the dress a regal appearance, a small emerald pendant on a silver chain around her neck.  Satisfied she was suitable to appear as the Queen of Perdan she nodded once more to Dustiria and together they left the suite into the hallway.  Dustiria fell in easily behind her, a comfortable familiarity with having the woman at her back, as she had watched over so many times before, so long ago.  We've come so far together, she and I.  And all of us.

The crowd was much larger than she expected.  She recognized all of the important people in the front, her foreign guests, include her dear friend Lyanna, as well as the dukes of the realm; Duke Lucius who wore an inscrutable expression and Kenneth who wore an easy encouraging smile.  She flashed him a quick  tiny smile back before turning her stoic gaze to the dais upon which the throne stood.  It was then she saw Isana once more, taking her by surprise.  Was Isana part of the ceremony?  Aila had not told her this would be the case, but seeing her up there in her beautiful dress with their colours, Alyssa did mind at all, watching her smile proudly as the Queen approached the dais.

The other council members had already taken their places, and Dustiria nodded to Alyssa and took her place as well.  Alyssa Kingsley took a deep breath and ascended the steps before her.

Navaar

As the nobility filtered into place, priests beside dukes, Cayden had taken the opportunity to step up beside Duke Kenneth and pass on a greeting. He didn't look the part of the Prophet of a new faith, wearing clothes befitting normal nobility, his house colors emblazoned with a symbol of the Aspects of the Flame on his chest and the Alexandrian crest beneath it. It didn't help that he burned his cloak outside of the palace either. A show for the future believers to remember, he thought to himself. He could always get a new one, though his former Captain that decided to stick with him might be a little unhappy about it.

When the Queen herself finally entered all eyes were drawn to her, and she moved with all the respectful and awed gazes she well deserved. Cayden withdrew into his mind for a moment and kept mental notes for his next journal entry. Something about beauty, grace, and the charged energy of a people as they watch one they love gain absolute power.

Everlight

A sea of eyes stared up at her, all with a clear view of everything she did, every move she made. Isana felt a thrill of nerves chill and tighten her shoulders. Standing on a dais in front of assembled nobility was not the same as commanding her soldiers, as she had thought it might be. These were peers and royals. At least she did feel appropriately attired to be in such a position. Immense gratitude for Ambassador Kenneth's advice on her garb for the event again floated into her thoughts, and she sought him out in the crowd. His impressive plumage was unusual and exotic making him very easy to find. She caught the Ambassador's eye and smiled brilliantly, and shut her eyes briefly with the slightest of nods in thanks.

Gradually Isana wondered if she'd been too eager to attend the dais. Duchess Aila had appeared and announced them, so up she came, but now several minutes had passed and still she stood beside the throne, doing her best to look important and also not attract the attention of all those eyes. Aila was making last-minute hushed direction to a few stewards, and Alyssa and Dustiria were nowhere to be seen. The dark-haired knight swallowed her nerves and kept a serene expression, distracting herself by looking for Cedric along the edge of the room.

A fanfare sounded near the entrance of the Throne Room. The colourful sea of nobles turned and hushed.

An honour guard of four guardsmen, in full, brilliantly polished plate armor with helmet plumes and capes in the colours of Perdan, stood at attention in the large doorway bearing between them an oaken box bound in golden filigree.

"The Lion's Crown of Perdan!" cried the herald, followed by another brassy melody from the two horn players as the guard stepped down into the room. Their sabatons rang against the stone floor as they marched in formation up to the dais. The leading guard took a knee and respectfully presented the box before Isana. One armoured hand opened its lid to reveal the sharp and sparkling crown.

Eyes wide, Isana glanced to Aila. The woman gave a nod. Isana took a single step forward and gingerly slipped her hands into the box to catch hold of the ornate cushion beneath. She had never seen the crown so closely before. It was sharp! Carefully, slowly, she lifted the regal adornment from its nest, her heart hammering.

As the sparkling golden crown became visible above the oak a cheer went up from those seated closest, that was quickly echoed by the room. Isana straightened and held the crown out on its cushion for all to behold amidst the ringing cheers. She smiled proudly even as she thought, It's heavy, too! Why do they make these so heavy?

Luitolf

Days had passed since Gislin had arrived in Perdan with little word. He had intentionally made his way to the Temple of Leandra in Perdan, the largest temple of the faith in existence, and stayed there trying not to be seen by most of the contingent in the city. The aging duke remembered the temple as he had approached it. It was unlike most temples he had seen before, much closer in build to the smaller chapels but on a larger scale. The building had large domes and spires, stain glass windows, and a statue of the goddess herself peaking off the top. The pronoas of the temple was shorter than most he had seen, but it led to a bigger inner area, one large enough to have easily fit everyone here, and naturally, it's where he felt it should be held, under the watchful eyes of her matron goddess, but with the amount of nonfaithful present, he understood why this place was chosen.

Instead, he found himself in a crowd of mostly strangers, but soon that would be rectified. Slowly, covered head to toe in his ceremonial robes, the senescent priest started to make his way through the crowd toward the front where other dukes and princes were located. As he arrived at the front, Gislin recognized one of the dukes next to him, the very one he apparently owed drinks to. Coincidences abound. He thought to himself, nodding to the Duke of the Riverlands just as the fanfare began to play. Quickly, glancing upward, a woman he didn't recognize caught his eyes standing there looking more nervous than a long-tailed dog in a room full of rocking chairs, just as the Queen herself entered the room. This was all just a formality at best, and one of little importance to Gislin, as most gathered here were here to see a queen made, in his eyes, she already was one. There was no questioning that fact, and anyone that tried would find themselves with a quick retort.

The lovely Queen, with her hair up in bundles and curls, stood upon the dais as radiant as the evening sun with the mysterious nervous one standing next to her, she dressed in green. Gislin found himself marveling at the pair on the stage. Never in his life had he been witness to a ceremony such as this. Usually, a ruler just took power, but few had pageants such as this. He found himself smirking at the thought of Germanico, the naked king he hated, being paraded around in such a fashion but swiftly put the thought from his head. Normally he would love to see a day where that fool was embarrassed like that, but this was not the time or place for such thoughts.

There will be time for such musing later. The erstwhile prince shook his head slightly thinking to himself, As well as the things the Queen and I need to discuss. Today is for Her Majesty up there. May she shine so radiantly that it appears that Leandra herself walks among us.

Poe

Lucius nodded at the new arrived Sir Ambrose as he made his way through the crowd towards the front to take his place once again. His impassive expression gave nothing away as the slow beat in his ears began to fade away.

"It seems Alyssa has quite the network outside of Perdan" Lucius thought to himself.

Lucius looked on as the soon to be crowned Queen made her way inside, they exchanged just a moment of eye contact before Lucius turned his attention to the Duchess Aila. "A crown fit for a Duke...or Duchess" He whispered into her ear and laughed.

Storme

Of every Noble of the Ducal rank, Aila the host of the coronation was least conspicuous. She had opted for military regalia leaving her as a slender, modestly ornate figure at the front of the room. For Aila her confidence came not from her clothing or riches but instead her golden mane, fair features of her face and stellar personality. As a result the fact that she was least flashy did not bother her in the slightest, and while she didn't know it, it worked in her favor greatly.

Her retainer Gideon remained present with special permission to attend Aila within the throne. room. He recently had slunk back into the ranks of the minor nobility and it was clear for him to see even from a distance that his Lady was in total misery. As everyone took their places and the ceremony was seconds from beginning Aila stood between the two Dukes staring down at the floor; as if she might start praying. Yet he could tell her jaw was tense, and he knew she could hardly keep from frowning. How he wished he could run up there and sweep her away, to tell her she didn't have to watch…

The Duke Lucius turns his attention to her, and while Gideon does not know what he said, Aila looks straight up at him as he says it.

    "A crown fit for a Duke...or Duchess"

Lucius always had a penchant for telling the best jokes at the worst time. She gives him a quick glance up, a thin smile as if she thought he was amusing and then levels her gaze on the throne.

He should have known this would be difficult for her. Perhaps his joke was ill timed?

As the ceremony is about to begin he offers her a comforting rub on her back without a care for who of the nobility spied it. "We will have drinks to fortify ourselves after this ordeal" he offers in a low whisper, finally winning a second more genuine little smile from Duchess Aila as he parrots one of her quotes back to her.

MacArbin

Kenneth smiled and warmly returned Cayden's greeting, with an added mention that he should join the Riverlands contingent in the party after the ceremony. He had a few people he wanted to discuss the new faith with, and having the prophet of it there would make that all the easier.

His eyes caught Isana's glance, and he gave a broad smile and a brief bow of his head as a surrogate for the full bow he would normally have responded with. He briefly hoped that the rest of his arrangements were as fruitful as that had been, before he caught the murmurs signalling someone else approaching the first circle. He turned and recognized his old negotiating partner, giving a quick smile and nod, and caught a bit of tension in Aila that he would have to check on later, right before the fanfare began.

And as Dustiria moved through the oath, he looked on with pride. They had come a long way, all of them, and seeing Dustiria giving the oath to Alyssa made that all clear. Perdan was different from the burning, butchered landscape he had landed in years ago, and while they had lost many, many more had stepped up to carry the banner forward.

It was a good day, and only going to get better.

Noire

Dustiria follows behind Alyssa thinking. Her face as usual shows nothing but just a blank surface.

“Seems like yesterday King Peregrine assigned me to protect the Imperatrix. Her silent shadow, her Blade of the White. Now look at us. All those talks with Smidditch...I never would have thought I would be here putting a crown on my friend while he is off somewhere without a word. All my life he was there...the uncle that wasn’t the father I wished for. Are you proud? I am truly on my own now aren’t I.” her thoughts return to her dear friend, “  As I set this heavy burden upon Alyssa will she crumple...so much stress already nearly doomed her. I will be there as a support as always, Isana, so many others too. Will we be enough?”

The trumpets sound again as the guards in front move away and let Alyssa and Dustiria mount the dais. Dustiria sees Isana with the crown and gives her a subtle nod. She waits for Alyssa to take her position before she faces the crowd before her. Surprisingly, Burr stays sound asleep on the back of her shoulders and neck for all of this.

"I want to thank you all for attending this wonderful and special occasion. I am honored to have been asked to crown not only our future queen, she is also one of my dearest friends."

Dustiria gives the watching crowds a brief, uncustomary smile before her face clears of all emotion once again. Dustiria unrolls a scroll, turns to face Alyssa and reads.

"Alyssa Kingsley of Whitewater , former Duchess of Perdan, former Margrave of Perdan, former Imperatrix of Perdan, and much more, you stand before all of us as it was you who won the right to wear the crown of Perdan. From votes of men and women who have faith in you to lead our great realm forward into a new age. But faith is fleeting and can be misplaced and that is why we have the oath." Dustiria looks at Alyssa and lets the weight of her words sink in before starting the oath.

"The oath is sacred. The oath is a promise. To reward the great people of this realm for believing you are fit to rule. As I read through each section you are to answer with 'I Will', this is to demonstrate you understand the burden of the oath and the weight it carries" She continued casting her eyes down as she began to read.

Will you take the oath?

Will you swear to uphold the laws of our realm at all times?

Will you swear to protect our ideals and customs from internal and external threats?

Will you swear to bring hope and prosperity to our realm?

And finally.

Will you swear to speak the truth even if your voice shakes?

Dustiria looks at Alyssa as she reads the last line awaiting her answers.

Kingsley

Alyssa's eyes met Isana's who fidgeted slightly, a hint of nerves apparent as she held the crown of Perdan on its satin pillow.  Alyssa tried to give her an encouraging smile as the two stood a few feet across from one another, Dustiria between them, scroll in hand while a crowd of onlookers watched the women upon the stage.  Alyssa held herself tall and straight, focusing away from the crowd, and on the woman before her.  The energy through the room was electric, but without even a word, her appearance grounded Alyssa to the moment.  This is for you, dear Isana, and for them. Alyssa reminded herself.  She trusts in you, they trust in you.  Such is your duty to them as theirs to you.  The bonds of feudalism are our bonds.  Our society is the oaths we give to each other.  She spoke to herself intently, giving a glance to her subjects and the foreign peers she would be working with.  You have my bond, each of you.

Then spoke Justice, the laws of Perdan, the codes and ideals she had sworn to uphold.  They came through the voice of her beloved friend Dustiria, but they were delivered with weight of a kingdom, and the expectations she had for her new queen.

"Alyssa Kingsley of Whitewater , former Duchess of Perdan,  former Margrave of Perdan,  former Imperatrix of Perdan, and much more, you stand before all of us as it was you who won the right to wear the crown of Perdan. From votes of men and women who have faith in you to lead our great realm forward into a new age. But faith is fleeting and can be misplaced and that is why we have the oath."

"The oath is sacred. The oath is a promise. To reward the great people of this realm for believing you are fit to rule. As I read through each section you are to answer with 'I Will', this is to demonstrate you understand the burden of the oath and the weight it carries" She continued casting her eyes down as she began to read.

    Will you take the oath?

The hall was silent as they awaited her answer, but they did not wait long for Alyssa answered without hesitation, with the sureness she felt in the trust of her people.

"I will."

    Will you swear to uphold the laws of our realm at all times?

"I will."

    Will you swear to protect our ideals and customs from internal and external threats?

"I will."

    Will you swear to bring hope and prosperity to our realm?

"I will."

    Will you swear to speak the truth even if your voice shakes?

"My voice will not shake." The Queen declared with determination.  "I will."

Dustiria nodded, and reached over to the satin pillow where sat the crown of Perdan.  Shimmering gold, inset in the front with three gems ruby, sapphire and citrine in the center, along the sides intricate engravings of lions roaring proudly, its points sharp as a lion's fangs.  Dustiria gently set the crown upon Alyssa's head; she had been told that it would be somewhat heavy, but the weight still surprised her.  Justice called out again, the voice of the Kingdom of Perdan herself, ancient and mighty, through Dustiria, and echoing throughout the hall for the entire kingdom and the entire Continent to hear that she had accepted her new Queen.

"ALL HAIL QUEEN ALYSSA!"  She exclaimed.

Daubeny

Apollyon stood and cheered as Dustiria pronounced Alyssa Queen.

He was glad, he could think of no better a person to lead Perdan.

Though he cheered Apollyon felt strange, like he wasn’t himself, he looked down at the white and gold armour he wore.

Slowly he sighed, this wasn’t him, he continued to clap and cheer for a moment longer and then left, weaving his way through the crowd to the back corner of the hall, there he slumped against the wall and sat down.

He felt proud, he saw the happiness of those around him, he had to protect that, his look became grim, there would be war soon, against who, he didn’t know but all the same he would soon have to fight.

If he needed to sacrifice his own honour for that of his realm then he would happily pay that price one hundred times over.

He lightly sipped at a wine flask he brought with him and waited for the music to start, he would have no partner, but he could enjoy his friends having fun.

Pryde

Benjamin watched the proceedings with quiet pleasure, happy to see the kingdom move on into a new future with a new queen.

How many kings and queens had he seen in his time here? One. Two. Three. Four? Five or more?

He rubbed his forehead as he considered each one. They had all been good in their ways, since he came to Perdan. They had lost much in that move, but they had gained more.

Free Oligarch might be lost forever, but its legacy lived on even now. It lived and it thrived.

He looked towards Lilly as she murmured with her companions. She turned as his eyes fell on her and she smiled at him.

Benjamin nodded and turned back to the proceedings.

Perdan lived, and it was his great hope that this queen would thrive as well as her predecessors. Or perhaps better.

A man could always hope for better...

Goldwater

"All Hail Queen Alyssa!"

Jacelyn and some other nobles immediately answered with booming voices,

"Long live the Queen!"

He watched the coronation from his place in second row, standing behind his lord. A warm smile displayed on his usually emotionless face, he was certain Alyssa will lead Perdan to glory and prosperity, hopefully staying the Queen longer than her predecessor.

De Pooh

There were many cheering at the crowning of the dearest new Queen- and Pandora had gingerly clapped for her as well. There was one noble in particular that looked familiar in the second-to-front row, but she was too afraid to look closer without her blade.

Pandora glanced over at the noble who upped and left his seat. In prestigious gold and white armor he seemed insatiable and distracted. She could almost see a grimace from the noble as he walks past her. After some time she turned, but his head was no longer found. Not wanting to be rude she turned her attention back to the newly crowned Queen in her elegance.

Poe

Lucius silently mouthed the words along with the Judge-Magister. The words he wrote as when he himself was Judge of Perdan. Seneschal it was back then. Lucius Poe the last Seneschal of Perdan. He would always have that and that filled him with as much sorrow as joy. Shifting from one foot to the other he glanced over his shoulder just in time to notice his steward had arrived just at the right time. The end.

"Yes..Yes All hail the Queen and may she reign forever yada yada yada" Lucius mouthed mockingly hoping to speed things up so he could get a drink whilst still in a playful mood.

He did give a salute to the Judge-Magister that wasn't in mocking. She had done a wonderful job and he knows it's not easy to be in that position. The weight of a crown is heavy to all involved after all.

Rauf

Arnold stumbled into the coronation quite late. He'd call it 'fashionably late' but he was far too drunk to pronounce "fashionably" correctly. As his eyes adapt to the light in the room, which took an inordinate amount of time, he is hit by a sound wave of cheers and clapping. "I..I know I'm la... *burp* ...te. late." he says, but is luckily drowned out by the cheers almost as much as his liver was in alcohol. He searches for a nearby chair to take, and after a few attempts, manages to plant his backside into it.

Vulparan

The young knight's enthusiastic voice can be heard amongst the throng of shouting and cheering that erupted in the hall, standing taughtly upright in order to get a good sight of the final

"All Hail Queen Alyssa!"

"Long live the Queen! May her reign be eternal!"

Daario collapsed into his seat in the centre of the third row - surrounded by fellow more junior knights and senior lower nobility. Sitting taught and upright, he catches a few glances from familiar faces and smiles warmly. His eyes burnt bright with the enthusiasm and passion of a newly-risen young knight, with sight of the very woman who knighted him not so long ago who now sits before the nobility of the realm as their new leader, heralding a new era for the realm.

Sharpspeare

"All Hail Queen Alyssa!"

"Long live the Queen! May her reign be eternal!"

Druzil added his voice to the cheering for his new Queen. Silly young knights want her reign to be eternal? As a former King himself, he knew that wasn't best. Life is better when you make the most of the time you've got. Knowing it will end, makes you cherish what you have. Still, it was better not to ruined their enthusiasm. Druzil was sure Queen ALussa WOULD make the best of her reign. He was looking forward to seeing that.

"Long live the Queen!" cheered Druzil. He then sipped at his wine with a smile on his face. "Long life the Queen"

Etain

Etain was amongst the last of the coronation guests to arrive, presenting the credentials prepared for her by the Ambassador of Shadowdale to the guards at the palace gates and slipping into the rear of the hall just before the doors shut. An expectant hush rippled across the audience, here and there punctuated by a nervous cough or the sound of fidgeting and shuffling. She picked a path through the assembled nobility, apologising here and there for any inconvenience caused as she made her way swiftly and elegantly to the Ambassador's party at the front of the hall.

The seasoned warrior felt decidedly out of place in her formal court attire, hair pinned up and makeup carefully applied to her freshly scrubbed and perfumed skin, long flowing moon spun silks circling her mincing, teetering heels, the matching gloves completely unsuited to the handling of bow or blade, and a selection of tasteful jewellery showcasing the black diamonds she'd collected in her travels. In her hands she carried a small presentation casket containing the Ambassador's coronation gift to the new Queen. Her role today was that of The Honourable Etain, Gentlewoman and Companion-in-Waiting to the Baroness of Evora. Of course she would have much preferred to attend in her actual role as an officer of the Ghost Watch, with dress sword and the comfort of britches and flat-soled boots. Still, she was sure her grandmother had her reasons, irritating though it was not to be in the know.

"You made it then," her grandfather suppressed a grin as he kissed her cheek and put his arm about her shoulders, but it was clear in his whispered tone.

"I said I would," Etain looked bashful as her eyes scanned the pageantry prepared for the coronation. Beautiful though the arrangements were she was mildly perturbed by the lack of quick exits should something untoward occur.

"I sometimes forget what an attractive young woman you are," her grandmother said approvingly, kissing the girl's other cheek, "Perhaps we can find you an eligible young Batchelor here in Perdan."

"A hawk has no business with pigeons," Anagridh spoke swiftly in the Elven tongue, and as ever there was a deeper double meaning than a casual eavesdropper would have perceived even if they had been well versed in that dead language and its passionate, blood-soaked poetry.

Etain considered the reference for a moment. The Princess was right, a marriage seemed decidedly unlikely given the fierce mating habits of Dubhaine women. But more important was the shared recognition of her own tactical assessment.

Chamberlain

She glanced guiltily at the seating for Marshals, no sign of Apollyon to her surprise, though her Vice, good Jace, was more than making up for the odd empty seat. She gave the Concierge the briefest nod.

He cleared his throat. "Lady Lorelai Genevive Catherine de Wolf Chamberlain, Dame and Steward of the fair City of Aix, Marshal of her majesty's Blackmane Paladins, Princess of fallen First Oligarch, Princess of Nivemus, heiress of the Ora'n Diadem and keeper of the coin of fate..." the man glanced at her questioning, she gave the smallest nod and a smile, allowing his words to buoy her through the embarassment of a late arrival.

Snatching at a glass from one of the servers she turned to the dais. "To Alyssa of Perdan, may you govern over interesting times!"

She was not concerned if her toast was echoed or not, it was fitting... for the best any could hope for of and for anyone was interesting times. The Duke was upstanding, his merry gaze accompanied by a wicked smile as he reached a hand toward her.

Skirting the minor nobility she took Lucius' gloved hand settling into the chair at his side.

Vulparan

Just as the doors were shut for perhaps the final time, in the throng of nobility and well-wishers Daario chuckled gently at the portly gentleman before him, "that may be so, friend, but I would wager the Belmonts and their mead could give your man a run for his money!"

Just as the merchant looked ready to retort, a radiant, exquisitely dressed figure - although clearly somewhat uncomfortable in her elegant ensemble - wafted between the pair of them, delicate jewellery set with glistening jet black diamonds catching the young knight's eye as she passes.

He paused for a moment as she continued on and idly muttered some muted apology for her having to brush between them, almost entirely captivated by her presence.

As she moved on, his eyes trailed, her beautiful flowing gown further twisting and drawing his attention like a paintbrush on canvas.

"Sir?" A voiced piped, the merchant in front of Daario plunged the young knight back into reality. With that, he rested his gaze for a mere moment longer - long enough to watch the woman warmly greet an exquisitely attired older pair - and tore his attention back to the considerably less interesting man before him.

Poe

"That's what I call an entrance" Lucius smiled as he watched the Steward of Aix settle at his side. "Beautiful and deadly. A wonderful combination" He added taking his seat again.

The slow thud of drums began to build in his ears once again as his temples began to pulsate. Lucius closed his eyes and leaned his head back losing himself to the music that played within this mind, the intoxicating effects making him feel divine. "This will be a night to remember" he murmurs.

Daubeny

Apollyon perked up when he heard the man by the door speak up, introducing Lorelai.

He stood up, his height allowing him to see a little over the other guests, he could barely make her moving out towards the chairs, sitting next to Lucius, he slowly made his way back towards his seat, though he paused and cast his gaze to Lori, he hesitated for a second then walked over, he gave a light bow to Lucius “M’lord Duke Poe, it’s a pleasure to see you in Perdan.”

He gave Lorelai a sparkling smile “Steward Chamberlain, I am glad you came after all, maybe the party shall not be so dull.”

Apollyon gave her a up and down and caught himself blushing “You look beautiful tonight Dear heart, though that comes to no surprise on my part, you always look beautiful.”

He had a sparkle in his eye that seemed to be missing, he gave a small smile to the pair “Do pardon me, I am sorry if I interrupted a conversation, I shall be taking my seat again.”

Chamberlain

She accepted his words with a smile. Watching as he left... Apollyon wore his armour well. She had heard in the salons, his name being connected to a few of the Perdan noble women, and frankly she could blame neither he for looking, nor them for hunting.

She herself was much changed by her experiences with the Blackstone Legion. The fear... and the loathing that led to her execution of Abigail yet saw her have nightmares where she removed the mask and found Apollyons face, broken in death, looking back at her rather than his step sister.

Lucius made it impossible to plan or even catalogue an idea... he was pure impulse... without time to think she would simply act or respond... it was liberating and entirely what she needed in these most gloomy of days.

She scanned the room, so many new houses represented and as yet, people she had not met. With one hand she picked a handful of fruit, picking over it with the other.

"So. My Leige.... what is tonight's game of choice?"

Thrane

Tyrann returned the faint smile and accepted the offered hand of Ambrose, "Aye, I too am pleased to find myself not alone. I would be honored to present them together." Tyrann remained close to Ambrose as to not lose him in the crowd and watched in awe the coronation of the new Queen of Perdan.

He joined the chorus as the crown was placed atop Alyssa's head, "Long live the Queen!" He soon found himself swept up in the crowd flowing into the reception hall. He was not overly fond of crowds and he visibly looked uncomfortable. He knew that soon that with a bit of liquid courage this anxiety would fade and that he could immerse himself in the merriment.

Everlight

<3

It seemed to Isana as though a conjuring trick had been performed. No sooner had she lifted the crown before the crowd than her darling the soon-to-be-sworn Queen Alyssa Kingsley and Judge-Magister Dustiria Noire were stepping up onto the dais.

To Isana’s awestruck and adrenaline-flooded vision, Alyssa seemed to float up onto the stage. Her dress in signature white drifted about her like snow, or a waterfall, or the wind made visible; the gold of her hair a radiant sun. Words departed her mind as Alyssa looked up to catch her eye, and gave that little fleeting smile that was only for her. Blue eyes held hers for a lingering moment as the world faded around them. Isana’s heart, already hammering from being on stage, felt as though it would burst from pride and love radiating toward this woman who was so much of her world. Her eyes followed as Alyssa moved to stand tall on the stage and faced the mass of watching faces serenely.

Dustiria came several steps behind her. Warm affection bubbled up as she noted Dustiria’s exotic outfit to match Kenneth’s, with the added adornment of Burr apparently asleep around her neck. She gave a little nod to the redheaded Judge-Magister, who was stoically all-business and ready to do her duty.

The ceremony began.

As Dustiria’s voice rang out Isana squared her shoulders and lifted her chin to look out over the crowd, holding the Lion's Crown motionless. Where before she had seemed unsure, now outwardly her purpose was clear and strength evident. She was a lion, among lions, and together they were strong.

With the eyes of the crowd now on her friend, Isana looked more closely at the faces near the dais. The front rows were a riot of colour and unknown dignitaries: a serene woman in ivory silk attended by a military man in deep blue; a young and capable-looking noblewoman bedecked with sparkling black diamonds; a tall and striking woman in scarlet; and an old and formally-attired priest watching the proceedings with detached scrutiny sat among those she knew. Sir Apollyon seemed subdued though he followed the proceedings attentively; Duke Lucius gazed about with a smirk, Lady Lorelai looking striking sitting beside him.

“Will you swear to bring hope and prosperity to our realm?”

"I will."

“Will you swear to speak the truth even if your voice shakes?”

"My voice will not shake." The Queen declared with determination. "I will."

Alyssa’s departure from formula underlined her fervour like a stonemason’s chisel. The truth would be spoken, the room could feel the certainty of her declaration. Isana knew her more deeply than most of those assembled and had absolute confidence in her love’s words. She felt how taut the blonde woman was, standing at full attention just an arm’s length away, keenly focused on the task at hand. None was so determined to be just and true as she.

Dustiria stepped to Isana then and lifted the crown from her hands. It’s happening! Isana turned ever so slightly to watch with pride as the sparkling symbol of Perdan’s leadership reached its resting-place atop her darling’s brow.

She had set eyes on many startling things in her lifetime--incredible vistas, the near-end-of-the-world, brutal battles, monsters approaching with fangs and murderous intent--and none affected her as this did. A ringing began in her ears and she felt lightheaded as her vision darkened around the edges. I’m standing beside the Queen… and the Queen is my sweet Alyssa.

"ALL HAIL QUEEN ALYSSA!"

Isana clutched tightly at the empty cushion in her hands and took a deep breath. The room tilted sideways for a moment and then righted itself as the ringing faded. The knight gave her head a shake, paused, and then roared out the shout with the crowd as her vision cleared and the shock of reality grew into excitement.

"Long live the Queen! À Perdana!"

A brilliant smile stretched across her features. She turned to beam at the newly-crowned Queen, heart singing.

Storme

As the golden crown is placed upon Alyssa brow a roar of celebration erupts from the crowd in the Throne room, a combination of shouts known to the Perdanese, “Long live the Queen!”and “À Perdana!” dominant among them. Outside the city bells rang out proudly, alerting the peasantry to the beginning of their new Monarchs reign. At the front of the room all on the dias were assaulted by the noise.

As the crowd cheers Aila leaves the side of her fellow Dukes, spying her retainer standing near the back doors of the Throne room. She has shed her deadly serious look for an almost professional friendliness as she raises an arm in the direction of Gideon, who shouts a short order at the guards. The sound of Halberds connecting with stone as guards snap to attention hushes the cheering abruptly and all eyes fall to the back of the room out of the open doors of the throne room.

Opposite the doors to the throne room, the doors to the great hall are slowly opened and held back by more guards. They reveal to the guests a brightly lit floor cleared for dancing, and a second, more comfortable looking throne set at the back of the room. It is also surrounded by perfect blue blooms, but they are hardly visible behind the obscene heap of gifts piled around it on heavy oak tables.

A sound familiar to too many of them begins to fill the room, the feet of a hundred men marching down the vaulted corridor toward them all. Aila offers no explanation as her guests look between her, and the hallway nearby.

After a very tense moment of suspense it is soon revealed that the Duchess Aila is marching an army into the great hall. This army  is not one of soldiers, but one of servants dressed fine in the colours of Perdan, each of them with a proud rampant Lion stitched onto the breast of their tunics. The weapons she armed them with, trays of drinks, and fresh food perfectly timed to arrive still steaming from the kitchens.

Sideboards are loaded and drinks ready to be offered, in the gallery the soft tones of a song well known in Perdan begins to flow from a hired orchestra of bards. Everyone is looking at the Duchess, waiting…

“It is an honour to be able to host this event”

Aila addresses the room with her proper Perdanese accent, able to speak over the large room easily. She had seen it done a thousand times, afterall.

“I invite you all to enjoy yourself in the adjoining hall” She motions again to the ballroom that has just revealed “To congratulate our Queen, and to celebrate this great day in Perdanese history. . . À Perdana! And Long live the Queen.”

With that Aila nods at her retainer who begins ushering people out of the room, then turns to Alyssa, instructing her deadly seriously “Go out the way you came, best not to wade through the crowd.” Clearly, Alyssa being crowned didn’t stop Aila telling her what to do at her event. “They’re grabby today”

She turns on her smile again and leaves the dias, charging down the steps to help Gideon get the minor nobility, or riffraff as she affectionately called them, into the great hall without much fuss.

Daubeny

Apollyon went back to his seat, he glanced back at Lorelai, she had moved on, he could tell, she seemed happy with Lucius.

Apollyon felt a sadness overtake him, this was his fault, he had driven her away, the Legion drove her away, he has lost her.

He felt something snap in him, was it all worth it, Apollyon was surrounded by friends and yet.

He felt sick in his stomach and hurt in his heart, why, why did he do this to himself.

He remembered his father’s lesson, one of many, taught to him as the whip fell upon his back, love was weakness.

Apollyon had been weak, he sat down in his seat, he felt uncertain, he must be over reacting.

No, no, no, no, NO!

Apollyon’s mind screamed in protest of its self, he was living a lie, he had been since he left the Legion, he hated the white and gold he wore this moment, this wasn’t him, none of this was.

He never should have left, Perdan, they didn’t understand, he wasn’t one of them, he never was, he never will be.

Apollyon felt his breath get erratic, he clutched his head in his palms, as the chorus of À Perdana rang throughout the hall.

He felt confusion, grief, anger, he was so confused, Apollyon was overreacting, he knew he was but why, what was wrong with him.

He heard he chorus shift in his mind, the voices turned to jeers in his mind as he could almost hear the hate, they hated him, he hated himself just as much.

Apollyon felt a tear roll down his cheek and he glanced up at the stage, his eye caught Aila’s as she ushered the minor nobles away, his eyes were shaky from emotion and tears started to build up, his look was pleading, he wanted it to stop, the pain.

He stood and rushed from the hall, tears falling freely, he felt sick, what was wrong with him.

Poe

"First I must change...not much room to move in my heavy armour" Lucius laughs.

Lucius got up from his seat with his head aching from the sudden reappearance of the music and made a quick escape to his accommodation in the city. The heavy black and grey armour was dropped for a far more flamboyant ensemble. He wore a leather tunic of red and black with golden patterns sewn elaborately through it. As always he wore tight black trousers provocatively tight held even closer with a decorative belt and leather shoes. A cloak of fur was fastened in place with a metal brooch resembling a dragon.

He wasn't finished.

Upon his face he wore a masquerade mask that sat just over his eyes that was solid gold with an intricate dragon design.

Lucius finally ready swaggered back into the room ready to begin the night. Lucius clicked his fingers to summon one of the retainers nearby. "For the Duchess and for the Queen he gestured as he passed him two gifts. Make sure they get them and you tell them they are from Duke Lucius..do you understand" Lucius commands.

There she was.

"Steward Lorelai....a gift" Lucius offered with a dangerous smile before handing her a mask of her own.

Storme

Just what Aila didn’t like to see, Appolyon had been moved to tears by the ceremony, even after she had been so careful to avoid overwhelming Alyssa’s very most loyal… As Aila reaches Gideon, dressed in his fine clothes with the Storme seal displayed on his breast, the only falcon among a pride of lions. He flashes her a huge gleaming white smile “You’ve done so wonderfu-”

His kind words are cut off by a sharp gesture by the Duchess, motioning to the back doors of the throne room “Daubeny lost the plot halfway through the ceremony can you go mop him up?”

“Me?” Gideon seems frightened by the idea, and wants to protest but Aila has already moved off through the crowd toward the drinks and music. He is left in a sea of people, moving in the opposite direction of traffic and apologizing profusely while he bumped past a few dozen noble elbows.

In the corridor outside he finds silence, but there is only one way to go. “Sir Apollyon?” Gideon hears nothing but his own voice echoing back. “It’s Gid! Lady Aila sent me. I’ve come to- help.” What else was he supposed to say?

After their meeting in Aila’s office he really had no idea what to say to the man; there were things he had been dealt in life even he, a man who lived a decade longer than Apollyon didn’t know how to handle. What’s more, he was an intimidating man to be told to ‘mop up’ tall, handsome, with a reputation as a fighter and ladies man…

Gid found his throat dry as he called again “...Sir?”

Chamberlain

He cut a striking figure, reminiscent of the woodcuts of the Highwaymen who ravaged the young noble women in virtually every racy novel by Lady Maud Fontaine that were passed from bunk to bunk by the blossoming girls of the Academy. The mask simply redoubled the effect.

Opening the box, she was entranced by the exquisite onyx mask, smooth with a natural lustre of gold veins that had been polished tracing out from the eyes. She reapplied the kohl around her eyes before slipping the mask into place.

He pulled her up by the hand setting the pace across the chamber and into the ballroom. His rough breathing made for a palpable excitement and she felt her own laughter bubbling, despite her vague difficulties moving at such pace in her heels and gown.

He had a reputation, she hadn't witnessed it personally, but as she allowed herself to be drawn around the dance floor, she could fully imagine the ruination of the daughters of many noble houses, that had fallen beneath those barely covered hips.

He slowed, scanning the room, dropping his arm with a feline grace so that she moved from propelled to escorted. Many of the women looked to her with abject hate, but she took their loathing and wore it with pride, the mask and her escort doing more to set aside their petty jealousies than any active attempts she might make to re-educate them.

She followed his gaze to the small pockets of true, major nobility in the room, nobles of Perdan and further afield mingling with one another in small groups. As the music rose he pulled her close guiding her into a grinding embrace as he made a beeline across the floor.

Daubeny

Apollyon rushed down the hall behind the throne room, tears streaming down his cheeks, his head felt like would spilt in two, he didn’t know why, why did he feel like this.

He reached the door at the end of the hall and pushed it, he found himself on a balcony and Apollyon sighed out a sob.

He leaned against the railing and clutched at his temples, clearly in pain, he growled and slammed his fist into the wall.

Why did he feel so miserable, why did he always feel so miserable, he felt his heart beat in his chest, he felt such a deep pain he thought he was dying.

Apollyon cried again, he felt furious, he wanted to fight, scream, so whatever it took to feel good again.

He sighed as he found he couldn’t bring himself to do anything of the sort, his anger simmered into a cold rage, he breathed in and out when he heard the man call out for him.

It was Gideon, Aila sent him to come tel him to stop crying probably, a kind gesture, but not what he wanted.

He waited a moment longer, his mind a whirl with a thousand thoughts and none of them good, none of the ones he noticed atleast.

He stepped into the corridor and saw Gideon, was he afraid, Apollyon would have laughed but he knew why, his reputation as a warrior was earned with the blood of many dead enemies, or maybe he had heard some horror tale of the Legion, Apollyon didn’t realise the look of anger, not as pronounced as a snarl but more like a slight stiffness of his mouth and his eyes like glaring daggers, to make it all worse Apollyon had a dangerous coolness to his eyes, a look of pure apathy.

He stepped forward and walked down the corridor “I am here Sir Gideon, you can tell the Duchess to stop worrying, I am...” He paused, he wasn’t fine, he wasn’t fine, he wasn’t fine, he wasn’t fine.

Apollyon blinked and felt unsteady on his feet, he tried to give a small grin, it was all he could conjure to give the facade of him being ok. “I appreciate the gesture Gideon, but it’s misplaced, if Aila sent you back here so I could sob and cry to you about how cruel life has been on me, then I fear I must disappoint, though knowing the Duchess, she just didn’t want me to hide away, it’s all about appearances with her and I still must make mine.”

He clapped the man on the shoulder “You can go enjoy the party, I think I ought to go get drunk, or drown, either way it will be best done with ale.”

Apollyon stepped back into the hall, he saw all the minor nobles being ushered, maybe he could have some fun tonight after all.

His eyes fell on Lucius and Lorelai, both wearing masquerade masks, then again, luck was never in his side.

As long as Jacelyn isn’t....aaand there he is, right there, great, now he definitely wasn’t going to have fun.

Apollyon reached to his hip for his flask but stopped, no, he wouldn’t hide away in his cups, he would suffer through this discomfort and the disquieting thoughts like he was taught to.

Storme

Stunned was not the word. Gideon stood there insulted and relieved all at once; He was so wrong about his Lady, dismissed him entirely, but in the end did go back with the others like Aila asked to see happen.

Left alone in the hallway he rubs the back of his neck in an anxious gesture, glancing down at the silver falcon sigil. All he had ever been was a Storme man, he served three generations of them now and no one seemed to see him as anything more than a shadow. Aila had sent him, but he had come to help, even if he didn’t know how…

“Pfff….” He lets out a long annoyed hiss before turning heel and heading back to Aila. She was easy to find, holding her little pinky out straight as she sipped from a delicate little glass. “He said for you to stop worrying about him he’s fine”

“My knight said -that-?”

Gid held his tongue about the comment regarding appearances “Yes… But he’s back. Do you mind if I go?”

“No Gid why? You don’t have to, you've worked as hard as I please stay.” she pleads

“Headache My Lady”

“Oh…” Aila nods to him with a thin smile “Well do rest then if you’re ill.”

As he leaves her side Aila turns back to the view of the room, Appollyn had come back indeed, Lucius was wallowing in the attention he was getting, others were drinking, many talking, while others waited near the center of the floor for the next song to begin… Aila is alone and painfully aware of the Minor lords nudging their sons ever closer to her, and makes a swift move to escape to the front of the room before she has to dance with one of them.

Daubeny

Apollyon sighed, he had been rude, he saw Gideon leaving and walked over, he put a hand on the Knight’s shoulder “Sir, wait a moment, I wish to apologise, I was rude to dismiss your help as quickly as I did, I am sorry, I am just, not feeling myself.”

He gave him a smile and a nod “I thank you for your worry, but I will be fine, I have gone through far more then some dark thoughts and a party.”

Apollyon gave him a truly grateful smile “I did mean what I said though, enjoy your night Gideon.”

He removed his hand from the Knight’s shoulder and walked over, he could see minor lords nudging their sons towards the Duchess, Apollyon almost snickered, poor lads didn’t know what they were getting themselves into, time to go be a good Knight.

Apollyon came up beside Aila “Duchess Storme, would you care to dance?”

His appearance seemed to ever so slightly deter the minor lords, many knew Apollyon and knew better then to bother him, not wanting to test the Knight after his earlier outburst at Lord Pendleton.

Navaar

Cayden excused himself from Duke Kenneth as the party began in full with the promise to return in short order. The festivities were moving in to full swing as circles opened on the dance floor. The young Prophet slowly made his way through the crowd, slipping around the nobility with a practiced confidence, and to the front of the hall to where a small line to visit the Queen had formed. Falling in behind someone he did no know, he waited. And waited. And waited. The young noble finally made his way to the front of the line and bent his knee to the new Queen with Isana standing close by.

"Queen Alyssa, and Lady Isana, it is good to see you both again, even if we spoke little during my time here." He smiled as he stood up and produced a box for the Queen. "In honor of your rise to power, I thought I would bring a gift of common ground between us." Inside the box was a large white candle, a bit grainy to the touch compared to normal wax. Cayden gestured to the box in her hands. "Amongst the Aspects of the Flame, there is a Goddess, Riuna, that you know all to well as Leandra. Leandra in my faith is the Goddess of the White Flame, a divine presence and defender of humanity, and this candle was made to burn with a pure white flame, filled with her light. In the hours that you need faith, support that may be just out of reach, or if only to say a prayer, no matter what our differences are, you can burn that candle for her guidance."

He paused for the Queen, but did not want to linger too long and eat up her time. Once they had exchanged pleasantries, Cayden gave a bow. "Thank you, for allowing me to be here, Your Highness, and it was wonderful to see you again as well, Lady Isana. I must go rejoin Duke Kenneth, but I am always at your service while I am here," he offered to the both of them..

Goldwater

Jacelyn walked into the hall whilst quitely talking to a minor noble from his retinue. Tall, bald, yet with a mighty beard, this well built knight will serve as burgrave of his castle in Bisciye one day.

Stopping at the servants to grab some food and a cup of wine, Jacelyn looked around the room. On the other side of the hall, he noticed Apollyon hastily leaving, very well. At least he didn't have to meet him yet, but that will surely happen sometimes during the evening. Will I be able to hold back, ran quickly through his head. The last time they met, Apollyon dislocated Jacelyn's arm and broke his head, which still hurt sometimes.

Oh, well. Hopefully they won't bash each other's heads in and the Judge Magister won't have to intervene.

Dubhaine

The coronation reception was well executed, the food more than sufficient for a gathering several times larger than the packed ballroom could have accommodated and ne'er an empty cup, glass, tankard, goblet or flagon to be found anywhere amongst the revellers. In every corner and alcove the hubbub and burble of eager conversation was to be heard, with the guests back-filling into the throne room and overflowing into all the adjacent rooms and corridors of the Palace.

This was Perdan's day. And more so this was Alyssa's day. The recognition of a new Queen to rule over a people who in recent years had been much changed. Brigdha well remembered the dark time under Atanamir when the Church of Humanity poured oil on the flames of the North's recently hard-won peace, and before that even as far back as King Sangue. Their time was passed and a new glory had fallen on Perdan, and yet amidst the chivalry and honour she could sense forces of the Higher Worlds at play. Tensions which in time would cast a shadow across this bright spring. That was the nature of cycles, to repeat and revolve, never quite the same and yet always driven by the same venal forces.

The Ambassador put such thoughts out of mind as she led her small entourage to the Queen and with due solemnity and all the deftness of a career diplomat she presented the simple casket which Etain had prepared, it's contents a blessing from her private scriptorium.

"Your Majesty, please accept this humble gift on behalf of my master, His Majesty Shadow King Lindow."

De Pooh

It was all such a lovely experience in Perdan. People were chattering, some were slow dancing to softly played music. The attendants held the wine glasses and variety of savory snacks on a large platter for guests to pass by and enjoy the evening scenery.

Her first sip of champagne was a surprise to Pandora. She had mistakenly thought to drink the whole glass in chugs. A strong aroma lingers and fizzles on her tongue. Although the scent of alcohol was extremely light, she was expecting something much more pleasant. As she processed what she had drank, her eyebrows furrow in an upwards motion. Her eyes were closed shut and briefly for a moment her tongue sticks our in an open frown to shiver. The attendant was horrified, he quickly turned around to the side offering smaller platters of roasted chestnuts. They were dressed in a light drizzle of brown clear syrup accompanied with a small skewer. This was his hopeful attempt to shoo the young inexperienced drinker away.

Pandora disappointedly walks away with a small platter of chestnuts, hoping to get the taste out of her mouth. She heads towards the edge of the room where you can see out through the glass windows of the room. A few messengers ran towards the castle with several horses waiting outside. Nibbling at the chestnuts she observed how distraught the messengers were through the window. She had finished her platter without distraught, and enjoyed it. But, something about the evening looked very ominous. Something was wrong.

Pandora was pulled to the side- the palace servant leaned in her ear to whisper the details of Nascot and the undead. One of the horses was for her, but her men had to be rallied. In the corner of her eye she could see a few of her men had snuck in dress attire to enjoy the coronation. They were standing next to the table with cut cheese, sliced smoked ham and olives. Pandora approaches them from across the room coldly. You could palpate the nerves her men had, seeing their lady in anger for sneaking in.

“Finish. We are headed to Nascot, let us rally with the rest of them at dawn.”

The two men felt a terror from the icy gaze. They dropped their plates and rushed outside after her. Pandora did not wait for them and instead rushed out in a hurry to her horse. She had to get her gear at the inn, and her horse made a dash for it. The indigo dress held up extremely well on horseback, though Pandora felt a little woozy on the way.

Poe

Lucius was thriving under the scrutiny that the other nobles families put him and Lorelai under. It was clear that they shared more than just physical attraction as they stared into each others eyes as they danced across the ballroom. She was elegance personified and her mask only added to her allure. She was a riddle Lucius Poe did not want to solve...chaos wrapped in silk.

They moved in sync as if they both where experiencing ecstatic seizures dancing to music that others couldn't hear. Lucius pressed his lips to the stewards neck before whispering into her ear words that couldn't be heard by anyone else. The best lip readers in all of the eastern kingdom would swear the words 'Court' and 'Faceless' had been uttered but no such evidence exists.

"You dance wonderfully Dame Lorelai...let us drink and toast to an evening to remember" said the Duke of Aix.

Storme

Lady Brigdha had come all that way, and how she so loved that woman; the udea of meeting her family made Aila feel excitement for the first time in weeks. Making a straight getaway from the minor Lords toward the front of the room where the Ambassador of Shadowdale presented her gift to elegantly, Aila is forced to stop. As she tried fleeing, a male voice had called to her too prominently to ignore, she turned back with a thin smile on her lips.

A quick survey of the scene told her all she needed to know. Sweaty lordlings, fat lords nudging them along, and a knight in white to step between them. He was trying to do her a favor “Of course, I love to dance.”

The Duchess holds a slender hand out to Appollyon, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor, much to the dismay of those behind him.

Peregrine

The ceremony apparently went according to the host's plan, smoothly and swiftly. The young monarch was sworn in and the great hall bursted with well wishes and congratulations. Ser Ambrose joined his booming voice to the chorus.

Finally it was time for inaugural presents. Priestess Brighda went first. He did not mind her preceding him, she was after all a legendary figure. So Ambrose patiently bode his time in the line.

Finally the Caligan delegation was called forth. Servants carried in numerous chests and buckets, which apparently arrived in the two carts following Ambrose's company from Domus. As the chests and buckets were being opened the gathered could see they were full of flowers. Yellow and black roses. Despite the hall being already filled to the brim with flowers, everyone could smell the new scent emitted by the Caligan flora. They did not look as fresh after a two days journey, but the scent was still quite exquisite.

Ambrose took a knee before the Queen's dais and spoke. "A hundred roses from my suzerain, High King Preston of Caligus for the mighty and beautiful Queen of Perdan. My king wishes to offer his congratulations and extend a hand of friendship."

The final chest was then opened and instead of flowers it contained a sword and a shield. Both extremely fancy and ceremonial looking but crafted well enough to be used in actual combat. The shield was round and had a roaring lion head bas relief protruding out of its smooth surface. The swords gilded pommel was also shaped as a lion's head, with black onyxes for eyes.

"The true knight's conviction is his weapon and honour is his shield. Perdan is famous for its chivalrous ways. In Caligus we share these ancient values. Perhaps with new rulers assuming the thrones in both realms we will yet see a closer and warmer relationship. Such is King Preston's sincere desire."

The envoy paused, giving his Caligan companion space to also speak his piece. And lingered to hear the Queen's reply before retreating and letting the next guest bear his gifts.

Chamberlain

His exploits were legendary, wild, brave and ruggedly handsome, he had oozed a masculinity that fueled the fantasies of the girls and even some of the boys at the Academy. His flirtation with religion had seen a swelling in the eager ranks of 'Leandra's Youth'. And as Seneschal there were those who kept scrapbooks of cases and woodcuts from the law almanacs.

And now he was her Leige, herding her and parading her around the great and good and jealous and desperate of Perdan and her neighbours. Each step and turn in an exhilarating and synchronous orbit of one another increasing the need of a growing connection she had neither expected or even recognised before this night.

At a pause in the music, he pulled her close. His hands moving with a self assured determination down past the small of her back, his finger tracing the line of her spine and sending an excited flush through her body. As she extended, he leaned in, lips tongue and teeth grazing her neck as he brought his mouth to her ear. Looking into his eyes she smiled her understanding.

Then he stepped back, allowing her to feel his absence, just as keenly as she had so recently felt his presence

"You dance wonderfully Dame Lorelai...let us drink and toast to an evening to remember" said the Duke of Aix.

She curtsied low, "It already is... my Leige." She favoured him with a quirk of her lips. "Though I fear I may not be the Maid of Aix, very much longer if we continue to dance." It actually bothered her a little that she truly did not fear such a prospect at all. He was dressed in a manner that left little to be imagined yet her mind raced with a whole range of imaginings that would have usually made her blush.

He pulled her up, laughing. "My dear Dame Lorelai... that would be quite the spectacle on the dance floor... though I am game if you are!" His wolfish grin made her consider this as a serious prospect, and as her eyes widened, he laughed heartily breaking the tension. Chagrined she picked up her drink, he turned her toward him, drawing her onto a couch. Placing their drinks aside he calmly placed a confident hand on her thigh, as his fingers traced upwards he leaned in close to her ear again. "You are right though... you will not be the Maid of Aix much longer."

MacArbin

Kenneth had joined in the cheers with the rest, of course, and then swept up to recapture his lady now that she had discharged her duty, before eagerly making his way toward the dance floor, with an agreement to speak with Cayden after a few dances.

While he had missed Apollyon's actions during the coronation itself, it was impossible to miss the interplay on the dance floor. Lucius and Lorelai, with Apollyon trying gamely to make up for it with a dance with Aila, bah. He had sympathies for them both, under the circumstances, but...He shook his head as he and Dustiria moved through a mirror dance together.

"I still cannot believe Lorelai's gall. That recitation of titles was tackier than Nemean's claims to royalty. Khelta save me from such delusions...Not that I have overly much to worry about, I'm sure you'll keep my head from swelling that much..."

He pushed the distraction aside, for a time. The hurt would be too raw for it to be any good to go to Apollyon, and he was not on those sorts of terms with either Lucius or Apollyon. Aila...He guessed would prefer there not be a scene, and as the ships came back again and again with no good news on the hunt for Smiddich, he had little to help her with, save a standing invitation for when she was ready.

So, instead, he danced. He and Dustiria had never danced much, but he always enjoyed it, and matters had been chaotic enough that they could use some time to just...Enjoy each other. The rest of the world could wait, for a time.

And so, they danced, and laughed, and eventually Burr announced that the dancers were too energetic for his taste and they laughed again before finding drinks and a quiet (or at least, quieter) corner.

He was sure someone would find him soon enough, Cayden if no other, but for the moment they could enjoy talking, perhaps the occasional kiss, and just taking in the celebration and music and cheer.

Storme

It is easy for Aila to tell that her knight is unhappy, and as he offers to travel across a room via dance she has to smirk. A mention of the priestess of the Shadows is an odd addition to...Did he know that they often spoke during her visits to Perdan? Perhaps he heard that Aila had invited her personally? The mention of fate after a glance at another woman Aila hardly recognised from Aix catches her attention and she understands now.

As she ponders this, he reveals that he cannot even dance and Aila let's out a puff of a breath when he asks her to lead. Did they even make men like her Smiddy anymore?

"Forget about that, If you step on me I will be cross" she warns without an ounce of humour as she leads him to the floor. A song she recognizes is beginning just as she does, and her hands are placed on Apollyons shoulders. She is shorter, and far smaller, dressed in military regalia the same as him. In a merciful gesture she look him in the eye with an am encouraging nod as she instructs "yours go on my waist".

She He was a far cry from the handsome sailor who had swept her off her feet and twirled her around any dance floor he could find, but Aila kept that to herself. Slowly she began to dance with him, both daring him to step on her feet and also gently instructing him so that those around him couldn't hear. "See, not so difficult"

Daubeny

Apollyon gave Aila a thankful smile and slide his hands to her waist “Thank you Duchess, I am sorry, I know I must be disappointing compared to others you have danced with, clearly you aren’t the only one here disappointed in me.”

He was sure not to step on her feet, slowly getting the hang out it, it was rhythmic, almost like sword fighting. He slowly began to try to be more daring, he spun Aila around slightly and gave a grin “Maybe not so disappointing.”

He slowly made his way towards the edge of the dancing area not to far from the Priestess from Shadowdale “And my duty is done.” He said as he gently spun Aila one last time before releasing her “I will admit Duchess, I lied about my dancing skills.”

Apollyon gave a grin “Thank you for the dance.”

He walked over toward the table serving wine when he stumbled into Jacelyn, “Ah, Sir Goldwater, I see they dragged you up from Bisciye.”

De Pooh

andora could not resist admiring the couple’s sensuality dancing under the spotlight. Is this the romance between lovers sparked by an interest across the ballroom? The touching and whispering in each other’s ear in an embrace was dreamy and fresh. She reminisced reading fairytales of princesses with happy endings. Drifting from those thoughts, she started to imagine herself dancing with someone else whose eyes could not wander even if they wanted.

She quickly snapped out of it with a gentle reminder of her surroundings. Other nobles started to shuffle towards the dance floor. Looking down at her indigo dress, she was reminded of how much she loved the sheer fabric of the sleeves and thought it was silly of her to cover up with her military coat. How many more times would she ever have the chance to dance? Certainly nobody would remember her after the coronation.

Pandora stands up and adjusts her gown by patting down firmly in an outwards motion to lessen wrinkles in the fabric. She places her coat neatly on the chair, and stares at it for a while.

Hm, just whom to politely ask? Someone already dancing- yes that wouldn’t make it too odd. Just one step after another no? Nobody would know. I could be anyone. Dame... of anything.

Who knows what will happen. Her family certainly would not hear of this. There’s no shame and nobody would know what family she is from by the colors she chose to wear at the coronation.

Pandora takes off her hairpin in the shape of the bee and leaves it in the pocket of her military coat. She takes a deep breath and turns around. Headed towards the floor, she lightly taps the gentleman on the back. He seemingly looked distracted from dancing with his partner. A little too lightly, the first tap must have gone unnoticed.

Quickly after getting his attention, she could feel her heart beating out of her chest and her cheeks warming up. She looks down and away for a second, and quietly mumbles.

“Dance- would you?”

She looked up at him to observe his reaction. Maybe she was unclear. A false start. The second time Pandora thought she could be louder, but again was rather quiet. She bravely looks directly into his eyes.

“Would you dance with me too- please?”

Poe

Lucius could feel the Dame quiver as his fingers danced up her thigh.. For a moment he weighed up how heavy a punishment he would face if he dare scandalise something as serious as the coronation but that moment soon passed as he pressed his lips to hers and gently bit down on her lip and kissed her. "I did say you would be rewarded for being on your best behaviour" Lucius laughed.

Not quite sure if this was her best behaviour or worst he continued to kiss her.

"Remind me to get you a better estate when we get back to Aix" he mouthed.

Goldwater

"If it isn't the champion of Perdan himself! Would you like some wine, Sir Apollyon?"

Jacelyn tried to hide his emotions, but failed miserably. One could not possibly miss the irony and bitterness in his words, even if he was deaf.

"I have been accompanying my liege, Lord Benjamin. Some knights are simply still loyal to the people they serve under and live with, and I count myself amongst them."

Everlight

With that Aila nods at her retainer who begins ushering people out of the room, then turns to Alyssa, instructing her deadly seriously “Go out the way you came, best not to wade through the crowd.” Clearly, Alyssa being crowned didn’t stop Aila telling her what to do at her event. “They’re grabby today”

She turns on her smile again and leaves the dias…

The Queen and her Consort exchanged a quizzical look at the Duchess’ statements and quick departure. The confusion of the moment dissipated as the two saw each other and the bright dawn of a new era shone between them.

Isana embellished the personal moment with a low curtsey, eyes locked to the brilliant blue gaze that followed hers, and rose to extend her arm gallantly in offer. “Your Majesty, might I have the honour of escorting you to the… er, back hallways to your other fancy chair?” Isana asked, giddiness adding a ripple of humour to the question.

“If you would be so kind, my dearest Knight,” Alyssa replied softly, delight curling her lips into a little smile. One warm hand found Isana’s forearm and rested on the smooth new bracer. The dark-haired knight felt a little thrill at the touch as she always did.

Isana glanced up to the sparkling mountain of razor-sharp lions, back to Aly, and gave a little incredulous shake of her head.

“Let us live. I never thought I’d be so alive,” she said quietly. “I love you, darling, and every wild step of this journey.”

Arm in arm the pair descended the dais and found a clear path out of the hall and around, enjoying a private moment of calm before joining the very public celebration.

Those watching as the Queen and her escort rejoined the festivity might note a high blush in both of their cheeks, though whether it had been caused by the excitement of the coronation or something else... would be improper to wonder at on such a formal occasion, goodness where are your manners?

Queen Alyssa Kingsley elegantly claimed the celebratory throne in front of the guests already dancing below. Once she was settled Isana took a step back to her right hand, happy to watch the decadent celebrations from an excellent vantage as several of the dignitaries came forward to present gifts and deliver their congratulations. Her thoughts were divided between admiring the spectacle, and daydreaming of the opportune moment when she could whisk her graceful lady off to the dance floor...

Daubeny

Apollyon sighed, he wasn’t in the mood for Jacelyn’s antics right now, but not a small part of him wanted to push back, relishing the potential fight. “Champion of Perdan? You are too kind Sir Goldwater and I would love some wine, but I must say wasn’t this an occasion for knights of Perdan?”

Apollyon gave a slight grin but his eyes reflected his displeasure “As you have just reminded me you have no loyalty to this realm, just to Bisciye.”

He snickered “You care more for that little hovel of a region you call home and that old man you call lord then this realm, at least I fight for everyone and not just a single region.”

Goldwater

"Yes, I heard you are quite... Travelling. Could you please help me remember, it is sort of complicated. You were a knight of Perdan. Before, I suppose, you served with those assasins of yours. Then you served under the banner of Perleone. And now you're back here, in Perdan."

His cold eyes remained fixed at Apollyon, without wavering or blinking, trying to pierce his body and find his thoughts, his weaknesses.

"I understand you have to travel a lot to fight for everyone, but I prefer staying loyal to your people, your land. It is hard to stop, if you start changing realms as easily as you change your pants. What would be your next stop, when you grow tired of us, common Bisciyans, Perdanites and so on? Perleone again? Or Eponllyn, maybe?"

Daubeny

Apollyon’s jaw tightened as he felt rage bubble up through his being. “I served the Legion for a time yes, then I served Perdan, sort out a peaceful life in Perleone enjoyed myself for a short time then came back to Perdan, so yes you have the right of it there.”

He growled “I have given more for Perdan then you could ever know boy and I would sooner take my own life then betray the realm and join the North, even when in Perleone my heart belonged to Perdan.”

He looked completely dejected “But I suppose it isn’t enough is it? One mistake, one oversight and I am the Blackstone Murderer who brought an army to her shores.”

He gave Jacelyn a cold look “If you ever suggest I am disloyal again and I will cut you down where you stand and I don’t doubt I could do this, I trust the head still hurts.”

He pushed Jacelyn to the side and continued towards the wine table.

Poe

Lucius soon felt the tension in the air grow as knights and lords who couldn't handle their ale soon began acting like fools.

"We will leave...and continue this elsewhere" snarls Lucius as he stands up with Lorelai.

​​​​Downing his drink he turns to Dame Lorelai just as he catches a quick glance of Sir Apollyon as he pushes past Sir Jacelyn. "Some men are very weak Lorelai. They insist on being suffocated by their own victim complex." Sneers Lucius.

"Dukes are just built different".

Goldwater

"Oh, I am sure you would."

Jacelyn shook his head once more and stopped caring for the other knight.

The Queen finally entered the hall and occupied her throne, as he noticed just before the argument.

Straightening his furry cloak, he approached Alyssa's podium and kneeled before her, offering her his sword.

Kingsley

Alyssa glanced at her partner as they walked arm-in-arm together down the hall to the reception. The duchess's lack of address, especially at her own coronation, had not gone unnoticed but Alyssa's mind was still a whirl, lost in her own thoughts as she held close to her knightly escort. The sounds of cheers and applause weighed in her head as the crown did upon it. For how long will they cheer? She wondered. She bore this for them, duty and responsibility. They had placed their faith in her, and she resolved herself to continue to earn it.

Her mind continued to spin, turning to the path ahead, and the wars to come, walking in step with her lady guiding her. It was the music that began playing at her entrance into the Great Hall that brought her back into the present, as well as a gentle pull from Isana towards the throne at the front of the hall, bequeathed in blue flowers and gifts of all sorts all across the table. The guests all began to file in and mingle. Idly, Alyssa considered the first time she had been in this hall. Kay had stood where she stood now and she had approached him with a gift. As the Ambassadors of other realms did now. She looked to the ring on her right hand, Turinqui Laimaril gracing her finger, it was the first gift she received for her coronation, and a dear one, from a treasured friend. A unifier. She recalled Lyanna's retelling of the elven and hoped she could continue that legacy. She glanced over the crowd assembled, mingling and beginning to dance and enjoy the reception, she spotted Lyanna among them, her red hair a beacon among the crowd of nobles.

Making a mental note to speak with her friend before she left the capital to return home, Alyssa watched over her kingdom and her guests. The other flamingly bright red that stuck out of the crowd belonged to her other dear friend Dustiria, who danced happily along with her lord. Duke Lucius was also dancing quite close to Lorelai Chamberlain, his dame, though she paid it little mind. Sir Apollyon had taken the Duchess's hand which struck Alyssa as unusual as she considered the implications of the two knights and their respective dukes. Others naturally enjoyed the event as well, noble Sir Daario, the quiet Sir Jacelyn spoke softly with Lord Benjamin, one of her most trusted advisors. The young ladies of her court, Anna, Pandora and Amelara she had yet to meet in person yet, silently she hoped to meet them, wondering if they were as she was at their age. In truth the Queen was only older than them by a few years, but it seemed like decades since her knighting, with how much they had all lived through together.

The line of gifts began to form in front of her, taking her attention away from the guests on the floor. Most were the minor Perdanese nobility, looking to garner favor by simply offered minor tokens or gems, some even just congratulations. It was the first Ambassador to approach her that caught her attention from the endless line of baubles bestowed upon her royal majesty.

​​​​​​​Alyssa had never met the Ambassador of Shadowdale before, but had heard a great deal about her. Smiddich had seemed to have a complicated relationship with her, but from all her experiences with the mystic realm of the North, this was typical for Shadowdhavians. Still, Luna had been kind, and Lindow as well. This Ambassador seemed to continue in that tradition, but Alyssa could not help but allow her considerations of Brigdha Dubhaine to linger as she offered the scroll. Something else for Sir Daeron to inspect.

"Thank you, Ambassador." Alyssa offered in exchange. "I have actually been interested in such things for some time now, so this gift is quite welcome. Please send my thanks home with you to your Shadow King. Such a gift is a valuable one, and one of great interest to me."

They exchanged a few more words before the next took the steps up to meet the Queen. These two were knights of Caligus, both of which she recognized, though only was was familiar. "Lord Tyrann." Alyssa acknowledged with a graceful nod. She recognized the other's determined gaze as the knight she had seen by the High King's throne in Domus, but was too slow asking his name as several carts filled with chests and buckets of flowers were wheeled in. They were starting to brown slightly but were still beautiful and she could smell them from her place near the throne. The powerful scent of rose brought back very welcome memories as she glanced at Isana standing by her side who gave her a knowing smile.

When the final chest was opened, the familiar knight reached inside and pulled from the chest a sword and shield. They were beautiful, and the lions of gold stood proudly upon each. As he spoke to her of honour and conviction, Alyssa accepted the sword graciously. "Your King honours me with such a gift, my lords. And your words are wise and true. I am pleased to hear that the lords and knights of Caligus walk the path of honour. There is no doubt in my mind that Caligus is a friend to me and to my people."

Alyssa spoke friendly words with the Caligans for some time before they bowed and returned to the reception. Alyssa sighed softly to herself as the line continued.

When the line to speak with the queen had run its course, Alyssa sat down upon the plush throne, off her feet for the first time since the ceremony had begun. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to center herself before opening them and glancing up at the tall long-haired knight standing beside her throne, admiring her beauty in the elegant dress and fashionings she wore. Isana looked down and gave her a fond smile before returning her gaze back to the floor of dancing couples. You are not nearly as subtle as you think you are, sweet knight.

The Queen stood up and took Isana's hand as the music swelled into a slow gentle melody. "Come, I wish to dance with my lady. And you should be enjoying yourself, 'Sana-dear, not standing about on my behalf. Besides I wish you to meet my friend Lyanna before she goes." Alyssa led her knight across the hall, everyone parting to make way for the pair. Alyssa placed a hand on her waist and the two melted into a sweet familiar rhythm, a dance they had danced together many times before as gentle music floated them about the room, dresses of white and green spinning about with them

And in that moment, holding tight to the person who loved her the most, amidst the crowd of all those who loved Perdan, and their hopes and dreams for its future; in her heart, the Lioness, Queen of Perdan roared.

Storme

The coronation had gone well, people had come to witness, and most of them stuck around for the party after Aila’s bragadocious servant army display. The music was to the Duchess’ liking, the bards themselves were very skilled and many people took to the dance floor. Drink was being consumed at an alarming rate, but that was most expected and thanks to Aila’s planning there was a seamless service of attendants to keep glasses full.

Old minor lords began to leave first, rosy cheeked and having enjoyed themselves; Leaving their sons to continue their revelry but taking their plump wives to the palace apartments with them. As was expected each person had a place to stay in the massive castle if they wished, and that army of servants would make sure each of them made it to their respective pillow or carriage by night's end.

The host herself had enjoyed one short dance but spent the remainder of her time both enjoying glass after glass of sparkling drink, giving backhanded compliments to silly noble girls too tipsy to notice the smarmy look on their Duchess’ face. She had no room to move, and Lucius had lodged himself so far up Lorelai’s...Lorelai that the help Aila had asked for from him was long forgotten, and with Gid upstairs resting she had to fend for herself entirely. Still she was glad to see the pair of them leave, any more time together on the couch and she would have had to throw a bucket of water on them both.

Even Alyssa seemed to be enjoying herself, a rare sight indeed.

There came a point when Aila had enough, enough of being trapped behind a wall of lordlings too drunk to form a conversation, and even tired of the jealous looks from the other girls as she rejected them all one by one. She made a break for the back of the room near the exit and clapped her hands twice in a bossy gesture. Every servant in earshot swarmed her and she stood before them barking the final orders of the night. “Half of you can go start the rooms, the rest will stay till the last guest leaves. Decide among yourselves. Leave the cleaning till tomorrow.” Her last consideration made them all look at eachother, having expected to be told not to leave till the place was reset to its original state this was an unprecedented break.

“Thank you, Grace” one said.

“And have yourselves a drink, just one. She is your queen too”

“Thank you, Grace” they all said knowing this was odd. Very odd. They all watched the Duchess leave the great hall unannounced and alone before turning back to the party to finish off the night.

Navaar

Cayden had piqued the Queen's interest in the faith. That was a good start. He had missed some of his opportunity to speak with the Duchess, but he could linger at the Bloody Stump for a day or two if required. For the time being, Cayden made his way over to where he had seen Duke Kenneth before, intending to keep his promise to meet. Closing in on six and a half feet tall, Cayden was hard to miss wherever he went. Peeking over the crowd, he spotted the Duke and smiled. He could wait for the man while he enjoyed his dance.

Along the way, Cayden snatched a drink from a passing servant and sipped at it. Having to act as a representative of Alexandria in addition to being here for Aspects of the Flame was difficult for one not yet blessed with a silver tongue. The drink would at least allevsome of the tension.

Dubhaine

The cold, exotic, glamorous, otherworldly Princess Anagridh swirled elegantly across the dance floor as first one nobleman and then another and another took the opportunity to be seen with so striking a beauty only to be left crestfallen and heartbroken when she tired of their company and moved on to a new partner. Her previous visits to Perdan had always been in disguise, about some business of other of the Ambassador's, and she played her ancestral role impeccably. Under different circumstances she might just have easily been slicing her way through the same throng with whirling blades, those features so nearly human concealing the heart of a primal predator.

Elsewhere Brigdha and Bedhwyr mingled with the gathered nobility, seemingly equally at home discussing the mundane affairs of commerce with the tycoons and merchants as the weighty affairs of state with great Lords and Ladies. Brigdha of course had for many years run commercial caravans South and West, perhaps not all of them quite as legal as might be supposed, and had collected many humorous anecdotes throughout her long career. Bedhwyr for his part was a soldier through and through, a little blunt perhaps for the consort of a Baroness but never rude or indiscrete. Together they let it be known that Shadowdale had a hunger for exotic foodstuffs from the Perdanese markets and the Ambassador was hopeful this message would reach the Baillivus and encourage him to make contact with his counterpart at the Shadow Court. For all her mastery of arts martial and spiritual, she was at heart a pragmatist. Trade after all was the cement with which friendships were strengthened.

Leopald and Etain were mainly along for show, bodyguards guarding bodies more than capable of guarding themselves, and they soon found themselves falling in with the Perdanese officers and other military guests, drinking copiously and sharing tall stories of campaigns past. Leopald had once been the highest Captain in Sirion, Aide de Camp to General Aednadh prior to her assassination, and his tales of the Northern Wars had the charming ring of truth but of their service to Shadowdale neither he nor Etain said a word. What was there to say? The Ghost Watch were merely a militia regiment and any rumours to the contrary were surely baseless.

Etain had strict orders to behave with decorum and was content to pass the evening in the company of a handsome young Caligan cavalryman, a firm-bodied youth with sensitive eyes and the most adorably dark curls. For his part the officer was entranced by her golden eyes, that hint of her mother's ancient lineage, and would remember them to his dying day. Sometime before the guests began leaving the couple slipped out into the cool spring night and wouldn't be seen again until lunchtime the next day at the Bloody Stump. Whatever passed between them would remain their secret.

Everlight

After the presentation of the beautiful sword and shield, Alyssa’s conversation with the Caligan contingent wandered down paths unfamiliar to Isana. Her gaze roved the envoy for several moments more, then drifted back to the rhythmic sea of colour below.

She lingered longest on the tiered confection across Perdan’s reception hall. It was like the Winterdark festival in Wailing Wood... She was a girl of ten again, wearing the twirly green dress and itchy sweater, watching knights and visitors dance late into the night in the Manor’s hall. There was a cake there too, also taller than her though she was shorter then: Frosted with sugar and cream, topped with toffee-crusted nuts, bigger than a horse, and safely out of her reach. Mother and father were still at the head table, though grandpapa Bearnard was obviously the commander of the conversation. Gran Fey was nowhere to be seen. Little 'Sana remembered her gran disappearing silently with a conspiratorial wink to her granddaughter quite some time earlier. An old man with a scary, scarred face and wearing a cloak covered in teeth and claws had come by asking about her. In a night of many new faces, his was strangest. Something about the Old Gods...

Gods. Her eyes found the one called Cayden Navaar in earnest conversation. The parcel he had sent her was in the basket on her desk, opened and unanswered. Her lips hid between her teeth as she watched him, thinking. There was another priest here tonight too, in impressive-looking formal robes, though she’d not gotten his name.

The song ended with a rumbling of renewed conversation and smatterings of applause. Dancing partners fell apart like grains of sand settling in a river and were swept up again in drumbeat turbulence moments later. Isana shifted her weight to the other foot.

She watched Kenneth in his vivid plumage spin about the floor with a young Dame, his matching Lady with her flaming red hair apparently now talking to the cake. ...what? Isana blinked.

Beside her Alyssa sat down and took a deep breath. Isana looked to her and gave an encouraging smile. You’re doing so well, my love! She squared her shoulders and looked back curious to see what was happening with the cake.

The Queen stood up and took Isana's hand as the music swelled into a slow gentle melody. "Come, I wish to dance with my woman. And you should be enjoying yourself, 'Sana-dear, not standing about on my behalf. Besides I wish you to meet my friend Lyanna before she goes." Alyssa led her knight across the hall, everyone parting to make way for the pair.

Isana startled at the hand in hers. Her body melted toward Alyssa’s, cake forgotten, her other hand curling over theirs together.

“Oh but I am enjoying myself! The best view of everyone, standing beside my family…” Her lips pressed into a line that dimpled at her cheeks. “Waiting to claim the first dance with my woman in her new shiny hat.”

She followed gracefully as Alyssa led the way to the floor, eyes bright and flicking about, watching the daydream unfold into reality: the crowd parted ways, her darling betrothed held her tight, and they moved together on a cloud of music.

Two songs they spent together in a reverie that lasted forever and ended too soon. Toward the end of the second, both were beginning to droop, and Isana realized they’d hardly eaten or drank all afternoon. She tilted her head toward the refreshments and gave a little tug on the strong hand in hers.

"Let's have a drink, and see if we can find your Lyanna, my darling Queen?" The faces around them were pleasant and distracted. Isana was certain there would soon be nobles asking the favour of a dance with their new Royalty.

Vorn

It seems that her distraction worked Dustira is now eating her cake with a weird oddly satisfied look on her face, it seems that it is the perfect time to put her plan into action. Just in time too since it looks like Alyssa’s dance was just wrapping up. “Of course, you have to give a gift in person, but nobody said you have to do it face to face!” Isabel thinks to herself with a giggle. Weighing the package one last time “It’s light but not overly and it shouldn’t hurt if it hits anyone probably just scare someone so it will be fine right?” Isabel reassures herself as she throws the small package. It flies end over end in what feels like slow motions until it gets to her intended target. “oh goddess no” Isabel thinks as she realizes it had a touch to much force and the package hits home on Alyssa’s head. After seeing the miscalculation Isabel hides behind the cake again staying out of sight to avoid the inevitable storm that is about to rain down on her.

Kingsley

Alyssa admired her darling knight, her hands around the other's strong broad shoulders as the music came to a close and the band began to prepare for the next one. "Let's have a drink, and see if we can find your Lyanna, my darling Queen?" Alyssa nodded affirmatively and the pair turned towards the reception table arm in arm, nobles of all sorts parting before them as they bowed to her. It was then she felt struck on the side of her head, something loose and light. In an instant her instincts flared. Her hand fell to her side, her blade absent and she cursed at herself silently as she took a defense posture before Isana. Her eyes scanned the room as a small commotion of gasps and murmurs began and a handful of sentries who were previously blended into the background of the celebratory scene rushed towards the concession table where a large decorative cake stood proudly amongst a collection of other deserts, drinks, and hors d'oeuvres.

As they pulled the assailant from their hiding place, Alyssa took a deep breath her head pounding as the blood rushed through her body. Glancing to see what struck her it was a little wrapped package. Picking it up, she unfolded the wrapping to reveal a delicately braided leather cord holding alternating glass beads and bear claws, the center piece a wood carving of a wolf howling obviously made by hand but done beautifully. Alyssa ran her thumb over the smooth dark wolf and looked up to see Isabel Vorn in custody of the guards. The girl was normally quiet and remained out of sight, but now all eyes were on her as the queen's assailant was brought before her. Alyssa felt their eyes too, and she made sure to focus on her breath like Isana had shown her as they brought the Stewardess of Perdan forward.

The girl looked nervous as they stood her before the Queen, who held the necklace delicately in her hand. She watched her for a moment, this girl who had been with her almost since her first days as a knight of the realm. Gentle-hearted Isabel, Alyssa knew her story, and suspected she was one of the few. Both women had been through so much, and adjusting to life outside of war had been difficult for both of them. Alyssa took a cautious step forward for both of their sakes and wrapped her arms around her friend.

"It is a lovely gift dear Isabel." The Queen said quietly to the huntress. "One I shall treasure, as I have treasured the friendship you've given me these years." She paused for a second and loosened her hold. "Please do not fear me. I am your protector, I have sworn it before the Continent. And you are my friend."

And with that Alyssa released her and took a step back offering her a warm but solemn look. "And it is quite improper to throw objects at a queen."

Vorn

“Oh Goddess I’m an idiot” Isabel thinks as the guards surround the cake and pull her to Alyssa. “Everyone is watching me... Staring... No no Nonono...No! I can’t have everyone looking at me” Isabel starts to panic as she is forced in front of Alyssa.

“Here it comes... I’m going to lose the one person I know I can count on today is just the worst.” Isabel thinks sadly as Alyssa steps towards her. “Oh god is she gunna hit me and break off our friendship” Isabel theorizes “I’m sor...” Isabel stops short as Alyssa hugs her “It is a lovely gift dear Isabel.” The queen said quietly. “One I shall treasure, as I have treasured the friendship you've given me these years.” Alyssa pauses before loosing her hold. “It is a nice gift and I even made it by hand!” Isabel thinks proudly before remembering her situation. "Please do not fear me. I am your protector, I have sworn it before the Continent. And you are my friend." Tears start to form in Isabel’s eyes.

The Queen takes a step back and offers a warm but solemn look before saying “And it is quite improper to throw objects at a queen." Isabel’s tears grew heavy and started falling “I-I-I’m s-s-sorry I d-didn’t mean to hit you!” Isabel whines. A noise reaches Isabels ears reminding her of where they were causing Isabel to blush deeply and run quickly for the door not meeting anyone’s eye as she hides her face. She didn’t stop running until she got all the way back to her estate forgetting all forms of formality.

De Pooh

People started crowding around the commotion near the concession table of a desserts and drinks. Everyone was silent when the queen spoke.

“And it is quite improper to throw objects at a queen.”

Pandora had been late to the crowd and could not get a good view of the scene. She tip toes and barely gets a glimpse of the queen’s braided hair as she embraces the assailant. You could hear clapping from the front. As the crowd disperses Pandora was able to inch closer to the queen, unsure of what to say. She became noticeable walking towards her, and calls out her name.

“Queen Alyssa, I just- we had exchanged letters before. And uh-”

Pandora was distracted, her Queen was of a different kind of human. Alyssa’s skin was radiant and although she was a few years older, her pupils conveyed wisdom. At that moment, Pandora had hoped to be like her- well spoken, level headed and taken seriously.

She takes a panic curtsy and quickly puffs out her dress and fixed her hair, “Oh! Pardon me- I am Pandora de Pooh! My family is excited for you to taste our harvest- is your majesty’s taste buds aquatinted with spice?”

Pandora had no clue why she suddenly became self conscious of her hand placement. In the back of Pandora’s mind she just had no idea where to put her hands. You could she her grasping her hands together, fidgeting with the sides of the gown or leaving them by Pandora’s side in chaotic cycles.

Kingsley

Alyssa watched with a hint of sadness as she watched her friend Isabel rush her retreat from the great hall. She knew the girl could be timid, but she hoped that the situation had not left her too upset. Alyssa made a mental note to check in on her later. Isana gave her arm a little squeeze and the pair shared a concerned look as they continued their scan of the great hall for the Ambassador of Sirion. The rest of the realm watched them for a moment but quickly returned to their previous distractions, their conversations and dances. Alyssa gave a light determined sigh as her fingers intertwined with her partner's.

As they continued through the great hall, the queen and her betrothed were stopped again by a young woman Alyssa had not seen before. Her sunny hair matched the rosy tint in her cheeks and she glanced around nervously as she found herself before the queen.

“Queen Alyssa, I just- we had exchanged letters before. And uh-”

Alyssa considered her for a moment, as a memory came to her. Not long after her knighting King Kay had turned thirty, and Duke Smiddich threw for him a birthday party. Alyssa was invited, and met the king for the first time in this very hall. She recalled how she felt that evening, meeting her monarch for the first time. Nervousness had come through her, she was just a knight, and a newly anointed one. But Kay had been so kind. He spoke to her easily and she knew then that he was a true king. As she saw Pandora in this exact situation she could not help but see herself. From before everything, before the Imperatrix, before Kay had died, it was all there in this young woman before her.

“Oh! Pardon me- I am Pandora de Pooh! My family is excited for you to taste our harvest- is your majesty’s taste buds aquatinted with spice?”

Easily. She told herself, offering her best warm smile as the young lady fidgeted. "Yes, harvest from Bescanon is it? I am well acquainted as I was once the Lady of the Riverlands." Pandora still seemed ill at ease, so Alyssa lowered her voice. "You will be a brave knight, Pandora. The path of the true knight is difficult, and sometimes harrowing, but that path will make you stronger, and you will do great things, I know it. I once stood in your exact spot, I had no idea where my path would lead. I look forward to seeing where your journey takes you, Pandora."

Alyssa nodded to the young knightess as she curtsied awkwardly. "It was a pleasure to meet you. We will speak more, certainly."

She departed alongside her lady, considering her own words, and how they mirrored King Kay's to her all those years ago. How curious. She considered of the situation as the two of them together continued through the great hall to find Lyanna.

Arylon

The Queen was truly regal. Lyanna watched in wonderment as she deftly spoke with a young woman. Even from a distance, Lyanna could tell that the woman she was speaking with was very nervous, and yet the new Perdanese Queen's mannerism and voice soothed those nerves and seemed to quickly turn apprehension into ease and comfort. This was a skill she had seen in few others, and was a rarity among royalty. At least in her experience. Alyssa was well served by the path she took to power, she thought to herself. Seeing and feeling what the lowest in station see and feel... that will serve her well with a crown on her head.

Lyanna had been hesitant to interrupt any of the many interactions thus far, as she was but an invited guest. This was a coronation, and a celebration for those native to Perdan, and she wished to ensure that they had their opportunity to see and talk to their new Queen. Here and now, she needed to pay her respects to the Queen of a foreign power, and then get out of the way so that her subjects could bask in the adulation of this wonderful celebration.

For the occasion, Lyanna had chosen to wear a long jacket that flowed almost like a dress to the middle of her calves, which were covered by high boots with five silver buckles. The jacket was tightly fitting -- again, making it look almost like a dress -- and featured a high neck, strong, angular shoulders, and finely woven embroidery mixed with leather. The jacket was black with pale blue accents, and silver clasps. Across her chest from her shoulder to her waist was a silver chain that connected to a a flowing blue cape that hung from her left shoulder. She had also chosen to wear her hair long, hoping that perhaps her red gold hair might make her more obvious to the new Queen, and would give them a chance to speak.

Sensing an opportunity after the Queen moved off from the young woman she was speaking to, Lyanna walked the fifty feet or so that separated them, and approached Alyssa who was walking side by side with a woman she knew to be the Lady Isana Everlight.

"Your Highness..." she quietly spoke.

Alyssa paused, and turned slowly. As she met Lyanna's eyes, she smiled broadly.

"I've been looking for you," she said to the Ambassador of Sirion.

"Your grace, a Queen looks for no one. I am but a lowly servant of my homeland, come to pay homage to Perdan's new Queen, and I am at your service."

Queen Alyssa moved forward and embraced Lyanna in an affectionate hug. "Nonsense. You are a very old friend, and you owe me no service."

"Old?" Lyanna retorted with a whimsical look and an eyebrow raised.

Alyssa once again smiled, while chuckling under her breath. "Alright."

Lyanna then turned her attention to the Lady Isana, snapping into a formal bow upon meeting her eyes. "Lady Isana, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she began. "I am Lyanna Arylon, Ambassador of Sirion, Duchess of Osmeneliath and Margravine of Sirion City."

Isana nodded politely to her.

"And Lord Speaker, of course," cut in the Queen.

Lyanna paused. "Well," she said hesitantly, "actually..." Alyssa gave her a knowing glance. Lyanna had told her some time ago that she had been thinking of retiring from the position of Speaker, and that she had long fostered an interest in law. She clearly remembered that conversation, and understood.

The three conversed for several more minutes, which was a joy. She had spent so little time with the Queen since arriving in the city, and she had affairs inside Sirion she needed to attend to and would have to be leaving for soon. This was her last opportunity to speak with her friend for a while, though as an Ambassador there would likely be more opportunities to visit again.

As time went on, Lyanna sensed that those around the Queen were growing frustrated with the amount of time being monopolized, and knew she had to find a way to excuse herself so that the Queen could carry on with her business. Just as she was about to attempt to find a way to end the conversation and say her goodbyes, Alyssa began to gesture with her hands as she told an amusing story. As she waved around in the air, Lyanna noticed that Turinqui Laimaril, the ring she had given the Queen, was on her right hand.

Never had she felt such a rush of emotions, nor had been as touched. "A uniter," whispered Lyanna as Alyssa continued to carry on, "and a great Queen."