Sess 9. 229: Another Slight

Another Slight
Summary: Another confrontation between Count Harmon and Princess Emerit
OOC Date: 23/02/2014 (OOC)
Related: Courtly Impertinence
Harmon Amando Gavino Emerit Benedict Nimue 
Tourney/Faire Grounds, City of Stormvale
The fairegrounds are big enough to hold a great many people, during festivals. They are really just a huge field, with a platform at the center, which is used for performances and announcements as is required. Grass never really seems to grow though, as the tents, pavillions and feet of each festival stamp it out. And just as it is beginning to regrow, the next festival arrives.
During a festival, the fairegrounds bustle with activity, whichever festival it might be. Many vendors set up tables and booths, selling everything from hotcakes to swords. Bards play music and poets recite their latest poems. Artists of all shapes, sizes and typse can be spied around and about the grounds. The scene is quite festive.
9th day of Sess, 229

(OOC: Poses are missing here)

Amando actually pays attention to the map Harmon is drawing in the sand and nods along. "So you think Darfield is safe? Always safe, yes?" He drinks some more wine before explaining his concern: "Father sent me to bring Karissa home. WAanted her away from war. If no war… she not need go home. Me neither.", he beams happily.

Harmon and Amando are talking near the wineseller stand. A rough map has been scuffed into the ground between them. Harmon's rangerly escort is drinking.

Harmon shakes his head, "No, there is no such thing as always safe, your highness, but we are safer here than most places from war." He gestures toward the map, "We are near as far from the water here as you would be on most parts of your island, and there is a larger army here as they make campe and prepare to move to the front after inspection. The only places I could think that would be safer would be in the cradle of the mountains of Sutherland." He taps the spot where the gold mines are, "Or in the heart of Sky Forest, but neither is as comfortable as here."

Harmon says, "Well, not yet…I'm working on a new home in the forest."

Sir Gavino Lionetti moves through the fairgrounds, green eyes clearly searching for someone, but his expression impassive beyond that. He spots a certain young Prince, and shifts his direction to move over near the wineseller stand. As he approaches, he places a hand to his chest and bows deeply towards Amando, speaking in Sancric, <Your Highness.> He offers an incline of his head towards Harmon, now speaking in the common tongue, albeit with a noticeable Skingaard accent, "Apologies for the interruption Milord." He offers nothing further, moving to stand near Amando, and neither chastising him nor seeking to drag him off. He does cast a bit of a meaningful glance to the young man, but it's more of an unspoken "You -really- tried to give me the slip?" kind of expression. One Amando is all too familiar with. Then Gavino's attention turns outward, occasionally glancing towards Harmon or Amando, but otherwise remaining alert for potential threats, as is his duty.

As the tourney field fills yet again with people, a certain fiery haired maiden passes the wine stand, her dress dark green with silver snakes embroidered onto it, worn below a blue woollen cloak. In Emerit's wake follow her chaperone and three Moniwid guards. She almost does not notice the two nobles, when her moss green eyes suddenly drift towards the stand and come to linger on Amando and Harmon. "Your highness!", she exclaims with delight, dipping in a graceful curtsey towards the Kiraric Prince. "Count Harmon Forrester," is added, with remarkably less warmth. Her gaze flits from Amando to Gavino with a curious smile.

"Good.", Amando nods to Harmon, looking quite relieved. "I will write Father…" Before he can continue there's Gavino upon him and he offers a smirk. He did after all manage to slip away at some point and spend some quality time in a barn. He greets him in Sacric as well, offering a Good morning to his guard, but nothing else. Because both men are instantly forgotten when the beautiful young redhead turns up and he bows deeply to her. "Lady Emerit! What a nice surprise so early!"

Harmon nods towards Gavino as he approaches and smiles into his tankard as he lifts the big cup of wine to his lips when the guard questions Amando. When he is greeted by Emerit he smiles, "Ambassador, good morning, you're looking far less contrived, it doesn't suit you, but it is a much more fetching presentation."

Gavino offers a silent bow and a polite smile to Emerit, but leaves the verbal greetings to the nobles. A brief once-over is given to the various guards assembled, but then he simply returns to watching for the time being.

"I… um… yes, a nice surprise," Emerit replies, twirling one of her fiery locks around her finger, the smile on her face, amiable to say the least. That smile loses a fe degrees in temperature when her gaze flits to Harmon. A brow is raised as she inclines her head. "I take that as a compliment?" A statement rather than a question. Gavino's bow is met with a nod of her head.

Amando looked a little confused at Harmon's statement too, but it is only when Emerit openly asks the man about it, he decides a good scowl is in order, daring the older man to say it was anything but a compliment. While he awaits the outcome of this, he asides to Gavino in Sancric: "Has my sister stirred yet?"

Benedict had been helping out with getting some things ready on the other side of the tournament field. It seems he's finished his task that he offered giving a wave and small bow he'll begin moving over to the otherside. It's only as he comes back around he'll view the group and change course not wishing to be rude "Good Day, your highness." he says to the princess before he looks to the others "M'lords." he says no less respectful.

Harmon fixes his attention on Emerit's hair twirl for a moment, his expression registering surprise as she speaks then he answers, "You take many things as compliments when they are intended otherwise, Ambassador, I should think it helpful in your profession." He nods to Amando, "If you will escuse me, your highness, I'm falling behind in the drinking and there's another race to be run."

<She has, your Highness. I believe she mentioned meeting with the Aberdeen Crown Prince before I left.> Gavino replies to Amando in their native tongue, offering a nod to Benedict when he approaches, rather quick to surmise the man's profession. He watches Harmon leave impassively, though perhaps a touch of curiosity paints his features for the abrupt departure.

Emerit's attention will shift momentarily to Amando, when he speaks with his knight in that foreign tongue. A smile will brush over her young freckled features when the Moniwid knight approaches. "Sir Benedict. I hope you are faring well on this wonderful day?". Then back to Harmon, she will raise a brow, hesitating for a moment before she gives her reply. "Are they intended otherwise, I wonder? You mean to insult me then? For what purpose?" A chuckle escapes her, pretending amusement that she probably is lacking.

Amando's scowl at Harmon intensifies at his words. "Are you insulting the lady, Mylord?", he asks and looks at Emerit. "I challenge him to answer for insult?!" It seems half a statement, half a question for permission to do so. Gavino receives another scowl from him. "The Aberdeen Crown Prince again!", he snorts and adds a few ripe words of choice in Sarcic. Even if they cannot be understood by the others, it's clear that the young prince is not a fan of the man.

The lord and knight hears only a bit of he conversation but it's enough his eyes flash a quick second and he steps forward now beside the princess his charge and anyways someone he cares for beyond all that. Benedict will answer her in kind though. "Of course, i'm quite well was helping out a bit trying to be a proper guest." he gives her a small smile "What of yourself?" he'll ask though he does turn back to the man as she speaks to him and he will simply await an answer.

Harmon smiles at Amando, "No, your highness, I am not insulting her. I am just not complimenting her. She is a contrived woman, made to be what she is not. If there was insult done to her by it, then that insult was paid her by her parents, whoever that might be, and by her sovreign who made her into what she is. It is a theme I had notice with her when she took what was already a fetching female form and twisted into something unnatural in the hopes of…well I'm not entirely certain what her fascination is with that fashion."

<The Lady has her own knight to answer any insult she chooses to take, Your Highness.> Gavino points out in a mild tone, tipping his head towards Benedict to indicate the fellow, his words still spoken in Sancric. <And her Highness only pursues the duties she was assigned by his Majesty. You cannot be a good diplomat if you don't meet with other diplomats.> He doesn't seem angry, doesn't have his hand moving to his sword. Though his expression remains stoic, there's a tiny hint of something that might almost be a sort of resigned amusement lacing the words, detectable even when spoken in a tongue foreign to most here.

Emerit lowers her gaze and shakes her head to Amando. "No, your highness. A challenge would not be fitting, coming from a prince to… a mere count? and one without manners, at that." This a statement, too. Her gaze flits to Benedict and she shakes her head ever so lightly, a silent plea for him to hold back. Then, a sigh escapes her as she addresses the Forrester once again. "Count Harmon,… I am not sure I catch your meaning. You think me contrived? Made into something I am not? Based on a dress I was wearing to the wedding festivities? Or do your reservations lie deeper… Is it… because I am a bastard, Count? And you cannot bear to deal with those?" Her moss green eyes flicker, as her gaze stays fixed on to Forrester.

Amando clearly bristles at Gavino's words and glares at Benedict. "He's a useless bit of furniture if he doesn't speak up for his lady", he replies to his bodyguard in Sarcic, before trying to switch back to Common. He is clearly still trying to work out what Harmon is actually saying. "Twisting female form… into unnatural shape? You are artist, Lady Emerit?", he asks the woman curiously, "Saw those at court once. Twist their bodies all strange. Head over arse…" He tries to make light but realizes that his joke is rather lame and just stares as Emerit spells things out. Oh.

Benedict is about to say something no doubt his mouth opens brow furrowed but he looks to his side spotting the head shake from his charge he will obey her wishes unless he's needed to protect her but he isn't happy about it. He listens further and it's definitely not to his liking. "M'lady your as much a Princess as any i've yet met." he cant stand and simply say nothing so at very least make his own outlook known though she likely knows it already.

Harmon laughs lightly, "Your highness," he addresses Amando, "The Ambassador was wearing one of those corsets that women tighten to make them look pinched in the middle, she had it on so tight she complained of not being able to breath. That is what I meant by twisting her form. You will also want to be quite cautious with the Ambassador, while she might wish to remind you that I am only a Count, she fails to mention that I have more men, and more land, than your father does." He gestures towards the rough map drawn on the ground nearby, "I would also council that you should avoid treating the heads of your vassal houses as less than a prince or princess, we all bear noble blood." He looks back to Emerit for a moment, "Well, most of us do, and to attempt to set a prince above those that support you is not always advisable, though I suggest you speak to your father or tutors regarding that."

Emerit would be amused by Amando's words, under other circumstances. Now she can just shake her head, the glance she shoots him revealing a bit of sadness that has always been there: the taint of her birth, spelled out to her by an impertinent count. "I am a Princess," she states matter-of-factly. "And by all means seeking to serve my home of Rustles Isle as best I can. If /that/ is a fault that is to be condemned, my lord," - her gaze flits to Harmon, - "even an expectation I have failed to live up to, in your eyes,…" Her melodic voice trails off, before she begins anew. "I have negotiated an alliance with the Crown of Mobrin, my lord. If you do not trust my word in this, pray, bring your questions and doubts before the King."

A low snort escapes the Mist of the Island at Harmon's attempt of an explanation towards Amando. "I treat others with the respect they deserve, Count, regardless of station, but based on how they treat me. You may have more men and more lands. Whereas your manner is impertinent and uncourteous." A pause. "And my father, the late Grand Duke, is dead. As much as I miss his counsel now and then."

Amando presses his lips together, bristling visibly. But he is also taking his time to pull a somewhat coherent Common together to finally address Harmon again. "Count, Prince or King, it does not matter. You wish no disrespect to your person and the Lady Emerit wishes the same. What she likes to wear is her own business. She is not forcing you to put yourself in corset, yes? We are here for diplomatic friendship, no? So let us behave diplomatic as we should and treat everyone with courtesy." He casts a sideglance at Gavino as if he wants to say 'look how mature and wise I can be!'

It's hard to say whether the glance Gavino gives Amando is approving or skeptical, but it's…something. The Knight doesn't give any nod or further acknowledgment though, so as not to make it appear that the Prince is looking to him for any sort of approval. Not having been addressed further, he remains silent for now.

It's not hard to see it's taking a tad of effort not to champion the other. Benedict does hold his tongue but only as it was his charges request that he deos so, he simply follows along with the conversation listening for any sign or hint for a danger which might be there the talk of more men and land is disconcernin but he's able to just shift slightly still keeping his peace he does give another look to Emerit to check and make sure she's okay as well that she still wishes him to remain as he is.

Harmon nods to Amando his attention having remained fixed on the prince, "That is wise, your highness, I should not concern myself with what the Ambassador wears." He looks over towards Emerit, "Ambassador, I apologize for my critque of your fashion, do please crush yourself in whatever way pleases you, I will not speak ill of it again. If there was some sort of misunderstanding please be aware that I was suggesting Prince Amando speak with his father." He turns back to Amando, "Such misunderstandinds do happen, your highness, as she styles herself a princess when she is in fact a lady, the daughter of a duke is not a princess, or even a duchess."

Harmon then adds, "And, she, is of course, just a bastard."

While Emerit is aware of those present, as becomes obvious from her glances, most of her attention is engaged with the count. Inclining her head a touch to his apology. "Your opinion on the dress is forgiven, Count Harmon." A soft chuckle follows. "I am surprised to find men bothering at all about the topic of fashion." That in regards what he says directly to her. His remarks to Amando however have her frown again. "Forgive me, Count, but I must correct your description of the political situation on Rustles Isle. Tis not a Duchy, but a Grand Duchy. His Royal Highness, the Grand Duke Mantilo is revered with as much respect as a King in our lands. We are a nation strong enough to be seen fit for an alliance with Mobrin. The children of the Grand Duke, even his brothers and sisters are called Princesses on Rustles Isle. Do you mean to belittle the birth of Princess Draventa Moniwid, and suggest your Prince Logen is betrothed far below his station?" Her tone has acquired a certain sharpness, while her mien - outwardly at least - remains amiable.

Amando nods stiffly to Harmon, seeming content with his apology to Emerit, though he frowns again when the man keeps harping on Emerit's parentage. But the girl is obviously standing up for herself - and in much better Common to boot. So he leaves her to it and nudges Gavino to whisper something to him in Sancric, his eyes on Emerit. "She's a cracker, isn't she, Gav? I fancy her rotten."

Gavino simply nods to Amando, a brief flicker of a smile touching his features.

Benedict watches between those gathered and listens of course the dukes words raise his instinct to protect for sure, but before he can say or do anything his charge speaks. The young lord and knight cannot help but let a small smile come to his face as she speaks very well for herself. He still remains on his ready but quiet as it's not his place to speak on this front just yet at least. He will continue his silent guard.

Harmon looks back to Emerit, "That is not the custom here, Ambassador. As I said, there are misunderstandings with the language used. You should also have a touch of caution, you've just insulted the wedding of Roslin and Ronan which we celebrate now. Regarding Rustles Isle it is roughly one tenth the people of Sky Forest, King Callem is kind to recognize your Grand Duke as a royal brother, but do keep some perspective in the matter. Oh, I recall you've also just insulted Callem's wedding to Laetitia, oh, and the wedding of Callem's parents. In fact, I believe if you check, Ambassador, the recent weddings of our royal house to others is quite the exception rather than the rule."

Emerit stares at Harmon, her moss green eyes widening at his words. For a moment it seems she will ready a sharp retort, as she inhales deeply, her brows furrowing a touch, and her hands that are joined before her, tightening their grasp. She will manage to uphold a facade of politeness, yet from the flicker in her gaze it will become clear her emotions are raging within her. "A missunderstanding it must be.", she says softly, as she lowers her gaze, probably to hide the fire within them. "I certainly do not intend any insult to the Royal House of Mobrin. Yet… I feel a bit saddened that you will not acknowledge the adequateness of the match for both parties involved. By not acknowledging our political situation and structures, and even trying to measure them with those of Mobrin. Instead of respecting them for what they are. Different. I can only hope you don't intend a carreer as a diplomat, Count Harmon. As you are lacking this certain virtue when dealing with us. Respect." Her gaze flits to Valaria and she lowers herself into a curtsey. "Thank you for the enlightening conversation, though. I will think about your opinions and try to draw some insight from them. Count Harmon." Her smile returns faintly, when her moss green eyes find the Kiraric Prince. "Your highness. I hope to see you soon, next time in more agreeable company." And then she leaves, her retinue of Moniwid guards and chaperone in tow.

If only Amando knew what 'Dude, take a chill pill' meant in Common. As it is, he can only glare at Harmon. A glare that intensifies when Emerit actually makes her goodbye. He does remember to offer her a perfunctiory bow though. "Lady Emerit. May next meeting be more pleasant."

Nimue has come here, looking for her brother only to stop herself short upon hearing what sounds like tense tones as people speak. Takes her a moment to find the source of said tension and a quick flashback to the day of the wedding comes to mind. "Harmon." Frowning slightly, she makes her way closer, the frown deepening slightly by the time she gets tp where she can make it to his side, everyone present curtseyed to.

Gavino bows towards Emerit as she takes her leave, and speaks quietly in Sancric towards Amando.

Gavino mutters to Amando, "She… Highness. Nor… to correct… ignorance, arrogance, and… this Count."

Benedict seems a tad conflicted it seems his charge is leaving, but he isnt sure he should follow or not for the moment he'll remain it would seem though he looks to the others still gathered the duke in question gets his focus a moment though he did promise not to say something. He'll look to the others before a new arrival takes his focus they at least get a nod in greeting.

Harmon looks over to Nimue as she approaches, "Good morning, sister." He nods, "Did you make good time from the castle?" The count, when he departed the castle with his guards opted to run, jump, and slide straight down the hill rather than use the roadways. This has left them all looking a bit ragged but the wine cups are already in hand. "Prince Amando was just giving me some rather solid advice on the treatment of women, I only took a portion of it."

While Gavino's whispered words don't do much for Amando, Nimue's arrival is perfectly timed to avoid tempers coming to a boil. He bows deeply to the lady and offers her a wan smile. "Lady Nimue, good morning." He scowls at Harmon again, then drains his wine glass. "I think need real one now.", he decides and turns back to the wineseller for an order.

"I see." The tone in which Nimue says those two simple words hints easily to her disappointment as does the faint shake of her head at Harmon's explaination as to what's been happening since they parted company for the day. Looking at those here or are currently departing, she opens her mouth as if she might say something… but no. That'll be saved for the privacy of their suite. What she does do is give Amando a smile before he departs to the vendor. And then there's Benedict, someone she doesn't know and the knight who just whispered to Amando, that man being someone who gets a quick glance and a pretty little blush to creep up to her cheeks. "Perhaps some wine would be good for all present, Your Excellency," she murmurs to her brother. "How about you get us all a drink." Suggested, yes, but she makes it obvious she will not let Harmon say no to her.

Gavino simply bows and smiles politely to Nimue, but all the formal greetings are Amando's to handle. He does, briefly, look towards Benedict, his face briefly assuming a bit of an apologetic and mildly exasperated expression punctuated by a slight roll of his eyes, before shifting back to stony neutrality.

Harmon says, "I said something similar earlier, sister, though on a more limited scope." He reaches into his money belt and draws forth a gold coin. He gives it to Old Gus saying, "Go and have the wine seller open a few casques and see any who wish it well wet." He turns his attention back to Nimue, "Now, if you will excuse me, sister, I've a race to finish running and I've fallen woefully behind in drink."

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