Thedor 44, 229: Courtly Impertinence

Courtly Impertinence
Summary: The Moniwid Ambassador is displeased, the cause: Count Harmon Forrester. Her reaction maybe a bit over the top - or maybe totally justified by his conduct?
OOC Date: 13/02/2014 (OOC)
Related: Briefly before Crawford-Kilgour Wedding
Emerit Harmon Draventa Aldren Nimue Benedict 
Boar's Head Inn, Sutherland
A spacious inn, it is a two story affair that has been sturdily built with thick Sutherland timber. The downstairs is divided into three parts with outside entries for each: The kitchen in the back, the Noble dining area, and the common room. A double sided fireplace rather than a wall resides between the higher and lower class sections for warmth while the kitchen has it's own hearth for cooking.
Upstairs are nice private rooms for rent to those who have enough coin. Commoners may bed down on the first floor on their side if they bring their own bedding and pay the modest fee. Two large hounds doze by the fire at night.
44th day of Thedor, 229

It is already afternoon, and the hour the wedding is approaching. This fact is causing more than a light stir to Princess Emerit. She has been upstairs in her room for over an hour now trying to pick the right dress and hairdo. Still, she had changed at least three times, and finally given up with a sigh, the wave of her hand to her handmaiden dismissive. When the Moniwid Ambassador now emerges from her room and descends the stairs that lead downwards to the common room, she looks pale and nervous. Her hair arranged with silver pins that it will fall over her left shoulder, the dress she wears a bodice of dark blue with silver snakes embroidered onto it, while sleeves and the skirts are of a light blue colour. Dark blue slippers cover her feet and become visible as her skirts are slightly raised. Moss green eyes will wander over the tables and pick an empty one, where she will sit down, while her handmaiden will get some watered wine.

Harmon bursts through the door and into the Inn, "…care what the latest fashion is. I'm not sticking that down my trousers and walking about." He pivots and talks back out the door, "Just, go and fetch the darkest of my leathers, all eyes should be on the bride in any case." He then turns back into the Inn looking about. "Ah, let there be a tun of birch about." He walks towards the noble section of the room pausing to look over Emerit and nod, "Lady, I don't believe we've met."

Draventa's had to endure being poked and dressed like a baby doll for the better part of the day. Her dark hair is piled up onto of her head, almost haphazardly until one gets close enough to see all the pearl pins holding the locks up. She has a few tendrils coming down framing her face, but for the most part her long hair is up. The dress itself is a purple, not quite the Kilgour colors, but obviously chose to echo that.Accents of silver are through out the dress, almost scattered like stars. A statement of who she will be at the wedding with, or maybe a statement of who she will be soon enough. Either way, she didn't pick the dress, but her handmaids both look pleased as Draventa's group assembly follows her in. The princess herself looks pale, maybe a touch nervous. She's playing with the necklace around her neck, a purple pearl on a braided silver chain.

Her brows twitch upwards, perhaps due to her slightly nervous state, when Emerit beholds the nobleman. "Indeed, we have not," she replies, her words leaving her with a bit of air, that makes her sound breathless. Her head turns and she will cast Yulanda an accusing glance. "This dress is suffocating me!" Hard to believe with her slender physique. Moss green eyes return to study Harmon and she will let out a slightly distracted chuckle. "Forgive me, my lord. I am Emerit Moniwid, Ambassador of Rustles Island." Her gaze will flicker when she notices Draventa, but she will rise at once, her skirts rustling a touch as she smoothes them with her slender fingers. "Princess Draventa." A curtsey is offered, a smile tugging at her lips as she realizes she is not the only nervous Moniwid at Sutherland.

One of the guards that filters in after Harmon gives the man next to him a thump and gestures towards Draventa's group, there's a quick shuffle amongst the guards and that one is suddenly one of the two breaking off for the common room rather than staying with Harmon.

"No forgiveness is needed, Ambassador." He looks over towards Draventa and dips forward slightly, "Princess Draventa, you look lovely. Though you should speak with your companion." He gestures towards Emerit, "She seems to be pursuing a breathtaking beauty, which I believe would be near as troublesome as the heartstopping and blinding beauties we discussed earlier." Harmon glances back towards his men, his smile shifting to a wolfish grin, "Ah, still hoping to impress…he's been practicing dances almost since we parted last."

Draventa drops her necklace at the sound of her name and turns. She'll politely smile at Emerit, "Ambassador." She'll raise an eyebrow at the Count, "I should hope that she is wiser than that, Count Harmon." Even as they speak, the Princess is causally waving Alice off, who looks torn, to stay or go. But at the Count's words, she'll curtsy and casually make her way towards the common room. Loraine looks annoyed but won't say anything. "I don't think I have ever been to anything as grand as the wedding sounds like it is going to be. Sir Jarvice has been working none stop, it seems."

"No forgiveness is needed, perhaps, my lord. But… maybe an introduction?" Emerit replies with a raised eyebrow, seemingly little impressed by Harmon's flowery words. Still she will look at him with a smile. "You are acquainted with the lord…?" Her gaze shifts from Harmon to Draventa, and it is now she becomes aware of her sister's attire and look. "By the Gods…. you look astonishing." There is no mockery at all in her tone, and a certain flicker of pride enters her green eyes as she looks Draventa over with a more than approving smile. "If Mantilo were here… He would not believe his own eyes." One hand moves to her fiery red curls that spill over her left shoulder, checking if they are in place. "Count Harmon.", she will greet once Draventa mentions his name, and she will incline her head with a smile.

Harmon smiles, "Count Harmon Forrester of Sky Forest, Ambassador, I would as for excuse but you've already mentioned that Draventa looks quite astonishing, so my reason for the omission of an introduction is obvious. I imagine Sutherland isn't holding much back, they've a need for a celebration with all that has happened and to see their heir marry a Princess…I believe it is beyond their expectations entirely."

Draventa's not one to flush, but her cheeks to turn slightly pink. "I did not pick out the dress…this is all Alice and Loraine's doing." She reaches up, almost like she's going to tug at a lock of hair to try to cover her neck some, but then stops herself. Loraine looks like she's going to slap the princesses hand (This battle may have been what took them so long in getting the Princess ready) but then smiles when Drav stops herself. "No…I think your right, Mantilo would not believe it. I look…" Drav looks down, clearly uncomfortable. "I hope it is not too flashy. The pearls aren't too much?" She'll indicate the ones in her hair. Pale eyes look to the Count now, "I suppose not. Rustle Isle affairs are always done…differently. Not less, just…different."

Yulanda returns with the watered wine and pours Emerit a cup. The fiery haired princess smiles when Harmon introduces himself. "Glad to make your acquaintance. And as I can see you are quick in excusing your negligence with my sister's looks." A glance is shot in Lorraine's direction, and the Moniwid will lower her head just a touch. "Still, I beg you, do not get too carried away. This Princess is betrothed, Count." Her slender fingers point towards Draventa. Do her eyes narrow a touch as she studies the Forrester? Her smile appears to be all amiable. Her expression changes a tad however, when she addresses the other Moniwid, her smile is a touch warmer as is the tone of her voice: "No, you don't look too flashy. Just like the Princess you are, Draventa! It becomes you well indeed."

Harmon smiles, "Too carried away? Your traditions must vary a great deal from that of Sky Forest. A woman should never complimented more or gifted as lavishly as when she is being courted, else how will she see the worth of her husband? I cannot think Prince Logen the sort who wishes to win a contest because all others retire from the field, in fact I've heard such said about him almost word for word. Why then should he not wish a chance to prove himself to his bride? I think you'll find this Princess's hand hotly contested for as she takes the dance floor this evening."

Aldren comes into the inn now, his clothes a bit dustier than they have any right to be. He is shaking his head as he looks down and goes to the bar. Quickly wine is poured and swallowed. Turning he notices the trio sitting. A smile given to each in turn but he seems to forego any formal greetings and simply asks, may I join you for a bit? I have need of my room but my sisters will most likely be hours before it is surrendered.

Draventa 's eyes widen slightly at Emerit's words. Why would she even say that?!? Any warmth leaves them, narrowing slightly, "That's quite enough, Emerit. The Count knows who I am, and who I am betrothed to. I do not need you to go ahead of me and make such comments." She'll start to say something else, but then the Count is making such comments that are not helping her case. "Count Harmon, "i am betrothed, not being courted. I know what Prince Logen's worth is, and what he's willing to do to prove himself." Or not. Her cheeks are slightly flushed, "I seriously doubt if I will be danced with at all, much less that there will be any strife for my hand." Drav is still standing, and with how the conversation is turning she'll most likely not sit at all. A forced smile is given to Aldren, but she'll not reply.

A sip of wine is taken, as a line appears between Emerit's brows, a strange sight indeed on a forehead of a girl this young. "There is a difference between seeking an open battle, my lord, or trying to besiege a fortress that is already in someone else's hands. While that someone else is not looking. It speaks of cowardice and cunning, and I am sure, Prince Logen will most certainly disapprove. Furthermore, I fear, your conduct is in danger of being regarded as treason against the crown of Mobrin." The Moniwid ambassador is not jesting, it seems. Her gaze is cold, and her voice low, her smile only a hint, still it remains there, a last trace of courtly politeness. She has worked too hard for the betrothal to come about, by the gods, to let it be jeopardized by a foolish count. She inhales deeply, her lips curving into a moderate smile, when she notices the Haravean. "Count Aldren. Pray join us."

After having disappeared with the Duke of Sutherland for a chat Nimue returns, her tiny throng of ladies and guards following beside her. She doesn't seem to notice anyone as she enters the inn anew, looking to perhaps hurry and get changed before today's festivities begins. Those attentive enough will notice her, however.

Aldren is not attentitive enough to notice Nimue but he is to notice the tension and all that while it forms. A deep breath is had. All he has to offer is, "I will dance with you Princess. We can force jealousy upon the Countess and the prince. I have need to twirl every princess about while in Sutherland. Only two remain." He does not consider the Kundarri woman one so, yea, that leaves Drav and Ros. Even if one will lose the title later on. He does not sit either now since talk of treason is brought about, and by a foreigner no doubt. A look to Harmon is given and then Emerit. "I am sure you have misunderstood our Count of Sky Forrest." He will try and back the man up now, a gaze remaining on the Bastard princess.

Harmon smiles, "Should you require it, Aldren, my room is available for use. I'm told all the latest fasions to be found await…I'll be dressing elsewhere." He chuckles then turns his attention back to the women, "Now then, where to begin with this one." He considers Emerit for a few moments, "I think I will assume it is light-headedness brought on by foolishly wrenching your figure into an unnatural shape that has you using terms like cowardice and treason. Cunning, however, I like quite a bit. I should be off to see to my own attire and you, Ambassador, should likely go and see to your wardrobe before you shoot off your mouth to someone who is less good natured." He rises, "Princess Draventa, I'm aware of your status but I do not feel a woman should be deprived of her moment to shine or a man his chance to earn that light simply because an arrangement has been made. I hope to see you at the wedding and the dancing to follow."

A strange thing happens when Aldren speaks about dancing. Emerit looks astonished at first, when this count seems to threaten her sister with another dance that will make her betrothed and his wife jealous? Then, suddenly a melodious chuckle breaks free, and the Ambassador laughs with delight sparkling in her moss green eyes. "By the Gods, Count Aldren. Tis true. You've danced with this princess here already," - this obviously refering to herself - "and what a dance that was. But do it openly, at the Castle, at the feast. Not as a shady action that might shed bewilderment on a young maiden's mind. That is all I ask of you." Seemingly less irrate than before, she turns to look at Harmon, as she assesses him for a moment, not so much his looks but his intentions rather. "I am willing to apologize, Count Harmon. /If/ I did indeed get you wrong there…?" Some confirmation on his part will be required, however.

Alas, it does not come.

"Mayhaps I chose my words with less calm than would have been appropriate. But I still can see no honour in your conduct, nor in your oily flattery. Sister, beware of him. I trust in your sense to know I need not worry. Even if I cannot trust in his." Emerit rises as well now, slowly, and with the natural grace she calls her own. A smile is offered to the departing - or even fleeing? - Forrester Count. "And by the way…. No need to concern you with my dress, it is all comfortable, I assure you!", she cannot help but add, before he is gone.

Benedict enters into the Inn a little delayed from when he'd meant to arrive however better late then never. He will pause a moment lucky enough to avoid running into others. He will however give a small bow to Nimue in passing a respectful gesture. He has noticed the one he came to seek though she seems deep in conversation he will make his way over towards the grouping he will pause though not wishing to interrupt just moving towards the table silent for now

Nimue is drawn to a stop by a familiar voice before she can reach the stairs and part of what she hears has her raising a brow. "Oh. Hello, brother," she calls out to Harmon before gesturing for her ladies to go ahead of her. If they did what she bid of them earlier they'll have her gown and such things ready and it will be nothing to get her ready when the time comes. Benedict is given a smile and a bow of her head before she slips closer to where the others are, her expression pleased. "I see you are in your element, Harmon. I do hope you will not be distracted when it comes time for the wedding when you must properly escort me." As is the role of an elder brother. The women here are given a curtsey once she is done chiding him.

Harmon wasn't fleeing from the princesses but the moment his sister uses the word 'properly' in proximity to 'escort' he gives off the vibe that he would like to. "Of course, Nimue, I'll be there, though I decided against the costume with the bells on it. If you should need anything before send word and the men will find me, else I will meet with you when you approach the temple."

"Shady?" Aldren asks Emerit. "You mistake me, Lady." He drops the princess title for the bastard as she sees fit to make implications on him in public. Though he remains smiling a bit. "But I must be off to ready as well." He does however offer the appropriate farewells for her and her half sister as they deserve. Nimue gets a nod to as he makes haste up the stairs.

Draventa's jaw clenches, and she's about ready to just turn and walk away from this entire conversation. She'll nod stiffly at both Aldren and Harmon's words, embarrassed that Emerit keeps on with the conversantion. Her eyes seem to lose even the hint of blue, a cold grey now greets her half sister. The only words she gives are, "I am well aware of who I can trust, Ambassador." She'll unconsciously smooth the skirt and turn. "I need to go." She'll nod to Aldren, "I would be happy to dance with you, Count Aldren." And without a goodbye to Emerit, she leaves, only her guards and one handmaid following.

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