Inouv 27, 228: Foreign Royalty

Foreign Royalty
Summary: The Salon at Darfield Castle is the place for the unusual gathering of two Kundari Royals, one Moniwid Princess and a slightly exhausted Mobrin Baron, which does not keep them from having a civilized conversation.
OOC Date: 16/12/2013 (OOC)
Related: None directly
Players:
Nima Dastan Draventa Ruthgar 
Salon, Darfield Castle
A haven of serenity amidst the rush of the castle, the salon is designed as a place for relaxation or socialization. A hearty fire burns in the massive, marble fireplace, throwing a russet glow across the room. The walls are divided top from bottom with pale wooden paneling above and lapis marble with silver veins shot through it below. Several armchairs, a couch, and a loveseat are set around a beautiful table for an intimate tete-a-tete, the furniture finely made of deep mahogany wood with blue and silver cushions. An azure rug covers the center of the room, but at the edges the dark wood of the floor can be seen. A side table holds tea, coffee, wine and several small hors d'oeuvres, and desserts.
27th day of Inouv, 228

The Salon is the place to be currently and this evening is no different. As the fire burns in the fireplace, keep a soft, warm glow about the room, assisted by the various candles around, Princess Nima is seated on a love seat, a goblet of wine in her hand as her maid, Syri had just finished filling it for her. The evening is clear, outside for once, no snow falling, but the lack of cloud cover has made it much colder around the kingdom, including the drafts inside the castle.

Sitting right beside his sister on the love seat is Dastan. He's got a cup of Chocola in his hands as he slides ever closer to his sister to warm up some. "It's so cold." He says, teeth chattering during a particularly cold draft. "When will winter end?" He's certainly not dressed for the winter, the clothes he wears is more traditional of a Kundari prince then of someone prepared for winter.

Draventa steps into the Salon, wrapped in some warm thick dress and shawl that makes her tiny frame look even smaller. She's on the arm of her hand maid and her guard follows behind them. The maid , ih her free hand is carrying a drawing book and pencils. Drav's pale eyes room the room, a small smile when she sees that there's already people here and that the fire is going. "Is there room for another?" Drav's voice is quiet, like she's not wanting to disturb the peace.

A little less polite is the young pale noble man who slips into the Salon behind her. Ruthgar does offer those present a silent greeting with a bow, before he lets himself fall onto one of those chairs at the back of the room. He wears the red and black of House Ruxton, and there is a weary look in his face, and something in those pale grey eyes suggests he is not so much seeking conversation. His gaze lingers for a moment on those Kundari foreigners, but not in any offending way, and a curious sparkle enters his eyes briefly. The Moniwid is spared a glance too, there is certainly something about her frailness that catches the eye.

"Dastan," Nima says gently, slipping a hand around his shoulders, leaning into him slightly. "Perhaps the winter will end soon, I have never experienced on such as this with the ice falling from the sky, though hopefully it is over." Her guard is just inside the door, doing what it is he does best, watching Nima and Syri and Dastan. At the new arrival, the guard nods politely and Syri, in her best manners, offers a curtsy. As for Nima, she lifts her chin and regards her with a warm smile. "Please do join, you are more than welcome." Gesturing to the other seating areas. Her accent is certainly not local and her mode of dress is a saree, her skin olive, her eyes an almost impossibly light blue. As Ruthgar enters, her gaze is just as curious as his seems to be. "Good evening, Sir." For surely he is a Knight. "Might my maid Syri get you anything?" Looking between he and Draventa. "There is wine, if you wish?"

Content to snuggle up with his sister, his eyes watch the two newcomers. The first, a pretty, quiet brunette, then a stalwart man. Smiling to the both of them, he says with a smile. "Hello, I'm Dastan." Sitting up, he motions to some of the other seats nearby before nodding his head respectfully to the both of them. Then, looks at his sister for direction on what to do next.

Draventa is quickly ushered to a comfy chair near the fire. She'll murmur something to her maid, who steps over to Syri and starts getting a glass of wine, "Yes, please. I fear this weather is making me sluggish. i could sleep for hours…" Her accent is also different, from the islands. She'll smile softly, "Hello Dastan. I am Princess Draventa Moniwid. I believe I've briefly seen you both at Temple?" She'll look to his sister, "I don't know if there is a warm room here." Her eyes drift over to Ruthgar and she'll dip her head in greeting, although she'll say nothing yet.
Elisen has disconnected.

"Good eve,", Ruthgar greets with a surprisingly polite and soft voice, and the hint of a smile brushes his face when he becomes aware of his own discourtesy. "Your highness," he adds after a short moment, for the colour of Nima's skin and her foreign attire as well as her regal bearing clearly point him to who she is. "Forgive me, I was in thoughts. I do not believe we have met in person yet. I am Baron Ruthgar Ruxton. And… a bit of wine will be most welcome." There is a twitch at the corner of his mouth when Dastan addresses him, and he inclines his head, remaining seated as he is.

Draventa's accent seems to be noticed by the Ruxton as he turns his head towards Draventa, and her introduction seems to take him a little by surprise. He rises from his seat now finally, offering the princess the required bow of greeting. "Glad to make your acquaintance, your highness," he says, a slightly amused expression appearing in his mien. "Princess," another bow finally to Nima. "A rare sight indeed, to see the variety of foreign royalty assembled here at this very Salon at Darfield Castle." He will retake his seat, seeing both women are settled in theirs.

"I do remember meeting you, Princess Draventa. You were speaking to the Crown Prince of Aberdeen? I have not had the fortune of visiting Moniwid, though I recently returned from a journey to Jadda." An indulgent smile is given to Dastan, along with a brief nod of approval, but slightly correcting without correcting him at all. "This is my brother, Prince Dastan al-Milan and I am Princess Rania Nima Yasmine al-Milan, ambassador from Kundari. Though simply Princess Nima would suffice, if you prefer." Just adding the titles and last names for ease of greetings, should the others wish.

Syri hovers at the sideboard, prepared to get drinks for the others and as the maid joins, she pours two goblets offering one to the maid for Draventa, and the Kundari handmaid, lady-in-waiting, takes the second to the man to offer it, should he desire. The guard beside the door steps further into the room and stokes the fire, adding more wood for the royals and noble in the room.

"It is lovely meeting you, Sir," still not getting his name, though she does not press, but offers a warm smile instead. "With the war going, it seems it is time to choose sides. My country, despite being a neighbor and under former rule from Laniveer, have opted to ally with Mobrin and her forces."

Draventa bows her head to Ruxton, but doesn't rise. "I should hope that the more foreign royalty that gathers, the sooner we can stop tip toeing around each other." Drav smiles, turing back to Nima, "yes, Prince Conall is my cousin, from my mother." Drav's hand maid sips the wine, checking it before walking over and presenting it to the Princess. Drav gives another small smile to Dastan, as he seems a bit out of practice on how to speak.

Ruthgar's gaze drifts from Nima to Dastan when she introduces him properly and inclines his head, looking again suprised. "Your highness." A belated proper greeting towards the Kundari prince. The wine is accepted from the Kundari handmaid, those pale grey eyes perhaps staring a little longer than would be expected on the foreign servant - but these strangers do indeed look unusual. His attention is soon back on Nima though and he nods. "A wise choice, your highness." His head turns to Draventa and Ruthgar manages a smile. "Tiptoeing? Are you referring to the customs at our court, your highness? It is a dance one either enjoys - or despises." His gaze is lowered and he takes a long sip from the wine, a sigh breaking free from the depths of his chest, suggesting the latter - in his case.

Dastan nods, "Aah, yes! I remember you now." He says to Draventa, giving her a smile. "That was an interesting day. I've not been back to the temple sense, I guess I should go back again soon." He looks to his sister again for conformation, sipping on his cup of Chocola, just listening now to the conversation.

"Oh, your cousin? That is good, there is already a connection between Aberdeen then and Moniwid." Eyes lower as Nima looks into her own wine goblet. "My father has sent me over as an offer for an alliance between our two kingdoms. Unless I wed Dastan to Princess Roslin," she teases, looking back up and to her brother. "Now that the weather seems nicer, we could take a stroll around the city tomorrow, if you wish, Dastan." Settling her gaze back on the Knight, she smiles with delight. "I believe so as well. My father is wise to send us."

Syri inclines her head, indicating the other servant having sipped the wine and it came from the same bottle. It was safe to drink. The fire is roaring now, rapidly warming the room.

Draventa nods, "Yes. My mother was Aberdeen." She sips her wine, Looking to the young Dastan. He doesn't seem ready for marriage. In response to Ruthgar, "It is a dance, of a sort. I am no good at it. I prefer honest, straight forward interactions."

Royalty, even foreign royalty does not have perhaps as much fascination for someone who is already married to a princess. Especially if this baroness turned princess has given him a hard time of late. Ruthgar shifts in his seat, sipping the wine, his gaze weary and that line between those brows suggesting a lot has been on his mind in the last few days. What great fortune these foreigners are foreign enough to not be aware of his identity or the recent drama connected to it. A topic that has made the rounds through the halls and servant's quarters of the local nobility for sure. Or maybe they are just polite enough not to mention any of it in his presence.

However, maybe it is the mention of Princess Roslin, maybe it is Nima's jesting (or maybe not so) suggestion to marry her brother to this Kilgour princess; or even the mention of marriage at all: The baron of Dellhaven empties his cup and sets it down onto the table, his mien clouding for a moment, before he rises from his seat. "Honest, straight forward interactions… I agree with you there, Princess Draventa. Alas, tis a rare thing to be found within this court." There is a moderate smile on his face when Ruthgar nods to teh Moniwid as he says that, before he extends his attention to all that are present. "Your highnesses, I must take my leave. Pray excuse me. I hope you find this castle and the land hospitable as becomes your station." He bows in a polite farewell before he moves to the door.

"I agree, straight forward is probably the easiest way to find solutions." Only a slight pause before she speaks again. "I have heard Aberdeen is a lovely island with lovely wine." Nima speaks softly to the Moniwid Princess. Turning her gaze back to the Knight, she studies him as he finishes his wine, watching his expressions over his features. His immediate agreement with the Moniwid brings a smile and she rises when he does. "I wish you the best, Sir. Thank you for your good wishes." Her gaze settles on her brother. "Dastan, I must speak with Altair, would you accompany me?" Summoning Syri, who takes her wine goblet and places it aside, the duo and the guard at the door prepare to leave, even if Dastan decides to stay perhaps a little longer.

Dastan eyes widen as Nima jokes /again/ about marrying him to Roslin. "Uhh…" is all he says, blinking, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. He nods as they speak about straightforward talk and honesty. "I don't like having to tiptoe around what I say to people, it's not… efficient." He sighs, finishing up his Chocola. "I will come with you if you require. Or I can stay here and keep Lady Draventa company for a while." He motions to the princess. "It's up to you, this is your command, as it were." He smiles up at her, shivering as another draft enters the room.

Draventa bows her head as Ruthgar leaves, eyeing him a maoemnt before turing back to the Princess, "I was lucky enough to spend a summer there. it is beautiful." Drav looks between the two Kundari, waiting to see if she's going to be talking or drawing for the evening.

Nima certainly had not meant to make her brother uncomfortable and when she notices the look, she ducks her head. "My apologies, Dastan, I truly was teasing you. I will promise you it would not happen." Looking at him several moments longer, she touches his shoulder gently. "However, in not too long, I could be leaving both you and Altair here and being taken to Sutherland with.. a new husband." She does not look unhappy at the prospect, but she does seem accepting of it. "I imagine it is lovely, Your Highness. Aberdeen, I mean." Between them, she smiles. "Yes, please Dastan, stay with the Princess, enjoy your time. I must off." Offering a curtsy to the Moniwid, she straightens after and nods to Syri, indicating they are leaving and the guard opens the door for the pair.

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