Thedor 9, 229: Meeting of Royals

Meeting of Royals
Summary: The Kilgour kids meet with the Laniveer kids. They all get stubborn.
OOC Date: 9/Jan/2014 (OOC)
Related: None
Tyrel Roslin Rowena Elisen Ciarrah 
Room Name
The feature of the Throne Room of Darfield Castle that draws most eyes immediately is the magnificent throne, raised on a dais at the far end of the room. The Kilgour Family coat of arms, passed down from father to son through the centuries, occupies a place of honor above the royal throne.
A rug of purple softens the path across the white marble floor, swirling patterns picked out in glinting silver thread. To each side of the rug, stand tall silver vases of Stargazer Lilies and Irises, their heady scent drifting through the air. The cool marble walls have been draped with mingling swathes of purple and silver silk, with touches of white for smooth contrast. Set about the room, tall silver candelabras hold long purple tapers, their soft glow gleaming on the rug and silks. On the balcony above, more swathes of purple and silver silk have been draped, shimmering with a scattering of silver glitter. More glitter is dusted across the marble floor, and over the soft petals of the flowers.
Thedor 9, 229

Invitations have been sent to Roslin, Rowena, and Elisen from Tyrel. They indicate their presence is requested in the throne room. Far ahead of the meeting itself four comfortable chairs have been set out along with smaller chairs for attendants and servants. Servants report the colors accenting the hall and assist with insights into the lighting and what should look fashionable should the group be seen. When the time nears several bottles of wine, mead and beer are brought out and tested. A few moments before the meeting time Tyrel enters and moves to take a seat. He is dressed in his chain under a fashionable tabard.

His sister, Roslin, is not terribly far behind him. "There you are," she says, sweeping into the room. She is dressed unusually today, in a gown of royal blue velvet with a pattern of darkly pressed flowers. Her underdress and bodice match in tone and pattern, but not color - it is a warm purple. The overskirt, bodice, sleeves and hem are trimmed in a delicate, tiny white lace. She wears a silver eight-pointed star, and a silver tiarra upon her crown of red braids. She seems not quite pleased to see him, but comforted. A hand is placed on his shoulder, and she leans down to kiss his cheek fondly. Only then does she move to sit beside him.

Her Lady, Elisabeth, stands by the door, giving some privacy but also keeping an eye. Just in case.

Roslin mutters to Tyrel, "When this… yours… I… speak… dear…"

Tyrel nods to Roslin, "Of course, Roslin." He then takes up a cup of mead to drink while he waits for the others to arrive.

Rowena has not been looking forward to the meeting and even voiced her displeasure at once again being called upon by the Prince but her brother reminded her that they honestly had no choice but to attend. So here they both are, arriving at the scheduled time, both dressed as is appropiate of those of their station. Rowena's wearing a white gown that has light purple accents embroidered here and there through out the bodice and full skirts, upon her head a simple crown of silver that is nestled just so atop her hair which has been elaborately braided and pinned up.

Once they enter she curtseys, giving Tyrel a look that is nothing in the way of warm, Roslin given a quick bow of her head while she remains in that position. "Young Majesty, Your Highness…"

Elisen strides into the room with a confidence to his gait that would indicate he owns the place, even if he's a prisoner. He's dressed in his finest clothing, including a thick royal cape. Looking about the room, his expression remains flat and unassuming. He offers the two Kilgours an appropriate bow, but does not verbally address them. His brow lifts slightly, and he simply stands there, waiting for them to speak.

Tyrel rises and nods to both as the arrive, "Lord Elisen, Lady Rowena, your attendance is appreciated." He gestures towards the chairs. "Sit and make yourselves comfortable." He takes his seat again, "There is wine, mead and beer, and if you should like any other refreshment or foods it can be sent for."

Roslin has a polite smile for both Rowena and Elisen. She looks to their gaze as she bows her head back to them, respectfully given their position here. "There's also some mulled wine," She explains gently, nodding to a nearby servant who sets about making sure everyone has what they want. Roslin and Tyrel get theirs poured as though it was already known what they would ask for. For Roslin, it is a hot mulled wine. She cups it in one hand and takes a sip, smiling at the flavor. "I prefer the warmth. The cold gets under my skin in the winter, but the sweetness of Chocola does not settle well for me." She goes quiet then with the pleasantries.

"If I may make a simple request of you, could I possibly get a cup of willow bark tea sweetened with honey made for me, please?" That is the only thing that has helped Rowena with the headaches she has been suffering from without having to delve into the more potent, and perhaps even potentially addictive herbs. Once her request is given she makes sure she is presentable before speaking further. "Thank you for having us," she responds with, as polite as Tyrel is without being any more so. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Elisen waves his hand at the servant, not particularly thirsty. He offers Roslin a slight smile, and then once his sister has been served and has seated, he takes the seat beside her. Sitting proper and straight, he tilts his head slightly, and waits.

Tyrel says, "With the war season approaching I should like to give you the opportunity to write to those lords and ladies whose keeps we will be approaching. I will be offering the hospitality of our household to those ladies and young men of an age innappropriate to join in battle or those who would be discomforted by a seige and war." He sips his mead before continuing, "I will be asking Roslin, my wife, and my mother to send word as well but as you have the unique vantage of having been our prisoners I thought your word on the matter might help to calm those lords or ladies who might doubt our ability host pleasantly. Once the engines begin throwing stones, unfortunately, it leaves my hands and falls to the whims of the gods to protect the innocents."

"Are you not feeling well still, my Lady? I will ask one of the healers to visit again this evening, and see if there is something that can be done for that." She glances up at Elisen, her own polite smile meeting his. But then her brother is talking, and her eyes flit to him and she remains quiet, allowing the conversation to fall where it may. Her hands remain clasped around the cup on her lap, and her gaze moves from Tyrel to the others.

The entire time Tyrel speaks Rowena's quiet, her expression as cold as the look he was given seconds ago. By the time she speaks her voice is level and near-emotionless, her eyes holding to his face for however long it takes for her to give answer. "I see. How gracious of you all for giving such concideration. Here I was, thinking you were nothing but a heartless bastard. I see I was wrong, if only in part." Her chin lifts and she laces her fingers together, back straightening. "I will pen a short missive to our people, asking them to come to you for safety if the need arises, Young Majesty, but I do not foresee many coming across the border just to put themselves into the hand of those who they see as being their enemy." Casting a look to Elisen, she nods once, giving him permission to speak on the subject if he so wishes. "Oh. No, Princess. I am fine. It's just a headache. Stress seems to be the cause of them. No need to put yourself or your healers out," she adds, gracing Roslin with a smile. "But thank you."

Elisen stares at Tyrel for a long moment before he answers. He inhales, and then shakes his head. "You will do no such thing, sister." He looks at Tyrel, "We will not write my people and tell them it is in their best interests to allow themselves to be taken as your prisoners." He folds his hands in his lap, "Of course, the other option, is you could value peace over continuing this war, and stop refusing to speak to us on the matter of negotiating an end to this hostility. Should you be so obsessed with slaughter and the quest for more power and blinded by ill-informed revenge that you would rather refuse the opportunity to find peace between our people, then I would note… If you are truly benevolent, and your kindness is based on good intention, I would be happy to write them and tell them they may travel to Meade Castle for shelter until your offensive actions have completed."

Tyrel watches the exchange between Rowena and Elisen towards the end of Rowena's response. He takes another sip of his mead as he turns his attention to Elisen, listening. When Elisen finishes he sets his cup down and rests his elbows on his chair, steepling his fingers. "You may write whatever instruction or message you wish, Lord Elisen, your letters will not be opened by my hand or any by my command, as I have told your sister." He seperates each pair of fingers for a moment before pressing them together again in repetitive sequence, "If you, or your sister, have a matter to bring to our attention that would reduce the impact of this struggle on my subjects you are welcome to do so. To date those subjects the pair of you have brought to our attention have been insulting at best."

Roslin nods once more to Rowena. "If it persists unto the morrow, My Lady, I shall bring someone by to see you all the same. I do not care to see you suffer." Then she sits back and looks to Tyrel, allowing him to speak. "If I may," she says, looking back to the Stewart pair. "Perhaps, being a simple young girl, I have misunderstood some previous discussions, My Lord Stewart. I have been under the impression that you and your sister were not authorized to seek a negotiated peace here. But if we are incorrect in that, as my brother said, I am sure we would both be extremely eager to hear your proposition." She speaks gently and softly, but with no lack of confidence or conviction.

"You say that you will not read any letters we send back to Laniveer, Prince Tyrel, but I have to admit to a bit of skepticism. While I do not wish to call you a liar, seeing as how I feel we have been misled by the words spoken in the past I think I will need to ask for a small token. Something to prove that you will keep to that. I'll let you decide what that token may be, if you choose to honor this small request I make, but I do ask it be soon, if you do." Rowena rises to her feet and starts to pace, speaking to the three she is with as a whole now instead of addressing each individually. "While I hesitate on trying to act as peace brokers I do think we have reached a point where we should become open to such discussions happening sometime in the future although I will admit to being worried. Both families are stubborn…" She looks at Elisen, daring him to try and deny that with a brow inching up slowly, "… and I fear that peace talks would take many months. Perhaps even years. Would the war be allowed to continue on while we act as hypocrites and speak of a union of our people and the word 'peace' is uttered by our own lips?" The subject of her headache is given a nod but she lets it go, the quick bob of her head to the Princess an agreement. If her head still hurts then she'll let her know.

Elisen shrugs, "We came here, an olive branch, and you met us with imprisonment. With lies. With constant subtle insult. With complete lack of respect for who we are." He shakes his head, "With no return of any sign of an olive branch, negotiating peace is rather difficult." He doesn't look at his sister at all.

Tyrel taps each finger against eachother twice as they talk, when they finish he says, "You are welcome to place the message into the hands of your servant and instruct them not to deliver to other than the person you instruct, you may then inquire of them as to the delivery should you wish them to return and they may bring what response if any is given." He stills his hands, "If you wish for peace, suggest to your father that he set aside his false claim to the throne and accept a life of comfort and peace. The talks would progress quickly after that, prior to that point I agree, talks would be quite pointless." He looks to Elisen, "You live, Lord Elisen, that you do not recognize an olive branch does not mean it was not extended."

Roslin is more interested in watching her brother than Elisen at this point, testing to see if he is, in fact, remaining strong and calm. He is. Elisen, however, gets a glance from Roslin. No more warm smile. "My Lord, please," she says to Elisen. "If you have such an olive branch, we are glad to see it and discuss it as my brother has outlined. We can find no other way to express to you that we mean you personally no harm or ill in these matters. But murders were commited, and for that war has begun, and a simple arrival of dignitaries cannot cease a battle. The words they say, can. But your father has given you few words to offer us, and ours you have heard - just from my brother's lips, just now. If you wish to write to your father, and begin arranging some autonomy to discuss peace, we would be most happy for it." She kept her voice level and true. She's proud of that.

Rowena pauses in her pacing to reach out and touch her brother on a shoulder, her head shaking slightly. "As much as you might not want to see it, the Prince has the right of this. If they were not willing to offer peace from their end of things we'd all be dead." At least she is willing to give Tyrel that much credit, as much as it pains her. Taking one deep, cleansing breath, Ro looks at Roslin, her expression thoughtful before she speaks further. "I do have one question, Young Majesty. We were told that we may return to Laniveer upon Spring's return only to now be called prisoners and told we will never be allowed to go home. When was this decided and why was that decision made? And…" More importantly, "… whom was this decision made?"

When Rowena takes the Prince's side, Elisen slowly turns to look at her. His face is expressionless, but there is fire in his eyes. He swallows, and then slowly turns to look at the Kilgours. "Our olive branch was the unorthodox expression of respect to King Kilgour, to send the very heir and one of the children of the Stewerts. Your olive branch is," and he smirks, saying with a bit of amusement, "You didn't kill us." He smiles, pursing his lips, and he nods. "Hrm." Lifting his brow, he continues, "So be it, then. Unfortunately, you have now stated as the only negotiating point you are willing to entertain, is my father simply handing you Laniveer. I can't even begin to discuss that with you, because to do so, would make acknowledgement of things you have declared treasonous to acknowledge."

Tyrel dips his head as Rowena aknowledges the point, when Elisen declares his problem he reaches for and sips his mead. When Elisen finishes he looks first to Rowena, "The initial decision was mine, I ordered the patrols that found you in our lands uninvited and unescorted and named you prisoner before I knew who you were, I have never done otherwise. I have clarified with my father regarding the matter and he agrees." He then looks towards Elisen, "If you wish to support your father's claims, then yes, save your words. If you wish to speak of how he might retire to a comfortable estate a Lord who was placed into a difficult position by errors of the past then you may and are encouraged to do so."

Roslin looks to Rowena, and then back to Elisen. She keeps her head high - she is unafraid and confident, this Princess. "With all due respect, My Lord - I was under the impression that it was your sister who was the ambassador, and who would determine what may or may not be an appropriate starting point for any negotiation. Were we incorrect in these impressions?"

Rowena finds herself unnerved when that look from her brother is noticed, that something she recallls seeing in the eyes of their father. She doesn't flinch from it, however, and soon recovers the steel she's somehow manage to regain despite everything they are now being made to endure. "I see…" Not sure what to say to that, she glances to Roslin, almost looking like she might ask the princess for help. The question she asks Elisen is a fair one but she doesn't look at her brother when the answer is waited for. It's almost too much for her to stand right now.

Elisen answers Tyrel first, "To discuss his retirement is to acknowledge the position he would be retiring from. And by your rather immature decree, that is treason." He looks at Roslin, and he nods, "My sister's duty as ambassador does not grant her rank over my duty as heir. I'm sure she, and you, understand that." He shakes his head, "If the only acceptable solution for peace is for Laniveer to simply give you everything so that you win, then, there's nothing more to discuss here." He rises to his feet. "That's not really how the spirit of negotiating for peace works. Perhaps it's time that instead, I speak with King Callem and not his underlings."

Tyrel sets his cup down, "He was recognized as the King of Laniveer, there is no treason in that, Lord Elisen. My own father was misled and it was only the behavior of your father that lead to the research that revealed the truth. You were once thought to be a prince, and she a princess there is no treason in ackowledging that, only in continuing to insist upon it." He rises and well and nods, "I would caution, however, that you do not declare my father's decree imature…he took this betrayal far more personally than I have but has shown great restraint in allowing us to treat you with courtesy."

"And why would you speak with my Father, My Lord?" Roslin asks, tacking onto Tyrel's train of words and catching Rowena's gaze and then turning her own on Elisen. It becomes a bit more stony. "You have just admitted that you do not have the authority to speak with your father's words. Your sister does - she is the one he has trusted for such delicate situations as these. Beyond your status as my brother has described, you have no standing here to negotiate anything." She shakes her head, setting her wine cup aside. "I think perhaps, if you permit, Tyrel, we should adjourn. Lady Rowena," Roslin turns to the woman and rises, offering her a respectful nod. "I thank you for having the open-ness to take this opportunity to heart that we may avoid the spilling of more innocent blood in this war. If you would permit me, I am sure I would delight to speak with you further soon about how we may best accomplish this. As I am sure my brother would be equally happy for such an opportunity. And of course we always welcome you to bring your brother and advisor as you see fit for such discussions."

Rowena rises as well. "King Callem did invite me to meet with him. I do hope to be able to speak with him before too much more time passes. I also hope he is well." She bows her head to the Kilgours, her eyes lowered. "I thank you both for having allowed us your time. I do hope we can hold another meeting once we are in a better position to negotiate our desires and maybe even come to an agreeable decision for all parties involved."

Elisen looks a bit taken aback by Roslin's words. "With all due respect, Lady Roslin, you are wrong. I am surprised a lady such as yourself doesn't understand the hierarchy of nobility, but it's not place to explain it to you." He looks at Tyrel, "Your father has claimed my father is not King. If you wish me to entertain that allegation, I request you provide me with proof." He looks at Rowena, then back at Tyrel. "Young Majesty, please be aware that as of this moment, my sister is no longer acting as ambassador for the Laniveer. All further efforts in our relations will now be handled with me." He looks at Rowena, "As for you, sister, you may remain as my advisor for now. Should Princess Roslin or Prince Tyrel be in your presence for any reason, you are to be accompanied by me. Do you understand?" He gives her a rather stern glare. Before allowing her to answer, he turns to the others and bows, "Until our next meeting then." He turns, laying his hand on his sister's arm to lead her out. "Come along."

Tyrel chuckles and looks towards Roslin, "Do you recall that conversation we had about why the sister might be acting as the superior?" He gestures towards the pair, "We should have started a pool and hired an oddsmaker, it would have made good sport." He dips his head towards Elisen, "Lord Elisen, I look forward to our next conversation. In the meantime do give some consideration to those letters, I will provide you with six keeps to warn, we will not attempt all six, of course, but I cannot give you details of our entire battle plan and give you full leave to write as you wish."

Roslin too, is grinning. "Indeed. It would have been great sport - and I could have collected a new pair of gloves with my winnings. Although," She turns back to Elisen. "Princess, My Lord. By yours laws and ours, I am a Princess. Not a Lady." She has no intention of making a great deal about it, though, and instead looks toward Lady Rowena with sympathy. "I shall send a letter over in the morning. With your permission, I would like to pay a visit to see how you fare." She glances up at Elisen, then back to Rowena. Her smile is small - but hopeful. Encouraging. "And perhaps one day soon we might find a bit of peace in the world yet. Good evening to you both."

Ciarrah arrives from the Grand Foyer.

Roslin, Tyrel, Elisen and Rowena have been talking for some time in the throne room. Four chairs have been arranged but the quartet are now standing and appear to be making ready to part. Tyrel and Roslin appear to be in good spirits sharing a joke of some sort while Rowena and Elisen look more serious.

First her brother has the audacity to strip her of her rank in front of the others, the same people who dare to try and make light of it all. Glares that do nothing to conceal her anger are given to every single person here, including the guards and whichever of Roslin's ladies might be present, each look accusitory, before she turns and leaves, her footfall as heavy as her heart. There's no goodbye, no curtsey, no gratitude voiced. It might be petty of Rowena to behave this way but she has to leave lest Roslin and Tyrel see her cry.

Ciarrah has fed the babies and finally makes her way to the throne room. She looks towards the faces of those gathered, from her husband, his sister and her cousins. There is a sense in the air of things being wrong and seeing Rowena, she approaches her and gently places a hand on her arm. "Cousin?" Accusing eyes lift to her husband and her other cousin. "What has happened?"

Accompanying Ciarrah is her maid Serah and two guards.

Elisen furrows his brow at the Kilgours, "I'm glad you find this amusing." He turns and follows his sister to the door. As he approaches Ciarrah, he looks at her, "Nothing's happened. Your husband won't allow it." He smiles at her, not a grin of warmth, but of obviously covering up great annoyance. "We were just leaving."

Tyrel spreads his hands exposing his wrists a sign he had nothing to hide to his wife, "A curiousity answered, My Princess, one which Roslin and I had puzzled over. The revalation was slightly unexpected at the moment, though I should like to compliment your cousin, Lady Elisen has managed to maintain her composure quite well. Roslin would have been red as a sunrise by this point."

Tyrel spreads his hands exposing his wrists a sign he had nothing to hide to his wife, "A curiousity answered, My Princess, one which Roslin and I had puzzled over. The revalation was slightly unexpected at the moment, though I should like to compliment your cousin, Lady Rowena has managed to maintain her composure quite well. Roslin would have been red as a sunrise by this point."

Roslin gives her brother a little glare. "Oh don't start in about the powder. I feel terrible for the poor woman - she is one of a good heart, if nothing else, and for all your faults I cannot say I think you would ever treat me thusly. Not in public, at any rate." Just for that, Tyrel gets anther kiss on the cheek. Ciarrah gets a low and respectful curtsy. "Forgive us, young majesty. How are my nephews?"

Of course Rowena doesn't need powder. All the blood required to blush or go red out of anger has drained from her face, causing her to look as if she's near-death instead. When spoken to by her cousin she pauses, her voice wavering when she answers. "You'll have to ask your beloved husband… oh, no. Wait. Instead of asking him ask Elisen. I am sure he'd love to tell you all about how he stripped me of any purpose for being here…" Gritting her teeth, Ro takes a moment to compose herself. "Please, do come visit me as soon as you can, Ciarrah. I would like to speak with you." And to her brother she almost growls, "I will not need your presence to visit with family, I do hope." She turns and heads towards the throne room's exit, any further attempt to speak to her or somehow try to get her to stop ignored.

"What did you ask of Prince Tyrel, Elisen? Where are you leaving to, have you finally been released to return home?" As Tyrel speaks, she looks towards him, her hand not leaving the arm of her cousin as of yet. "A curiosity answered? Please no riddles with me, you know my impatience with them. I wish to hear what happened, not a vague outline. What revelation?" And another question.. "Powder?" Unknowing of that particular joke between them, she does look curious. So many questions. No answers. A curtsy is offered back to Roslin along with a warm smile. Something she did have the answer to. "They are doing wonderfully, almost ready for visitors, I believe."

The words from Rowena capture Ciarrah's attention very fully, and she looks surprised. "Stripped you of your purpose?" She does not press further, since her cousin was so obviously upset. "I will come by, Rowena. Tomorrow." Dropping her hand, she does not watch her cousin go. Instead, she looks to the two men in the room. "Explain."

Elisen sighs, watching his sister go. He shakes his head, and looks at Ciarrah. Very calmly, with a hint of disappointment, he offers to his cousin, "If she were ready to be ambassador, a tantrum such as that would have been reserved for private." He glances at the Prince and his sister, then back at Ciarrah. "I'm sorry you all had to see that."

Tyrel looks towards Ciarrah, "I will be glad to explain it all later, Ciarrah, though for the moment we must see if my mother is available. We've contracts to review." He looks back to Elisen, "If you should wish a game of chess, Lord Elisen, I would enjoy a match. Your sister was too distracted to manage her moves." He walks then to Ciarrah and offers her his arm, "Join me?"

"Please have a good evening, My Lord. And please do not hesitate to alert the healers if your sister's discomfort worsens." She looks to her brother, who appears occupied with his wife. Ciarrah, at least, gets a smile. "I look forward to the day. But please do excuse me." They're going off to deal with some matters to which Roslin was not invited, and for a change she seems comfortable with that. Instead, she turns to her lady, Elisabeth, and nods as the pair prepare to depart.

Tyrel looks back towards Roslin as she starts to excuse herself he chuckles, "I believe, sister, that you may wish to join us again as soon as you are able."

"We will also speak later, Elisen, and I wish you to be strictly honest with me when we do." Ciarrah watches him a long moment, her expression serious, with a hint of understanding. "On the morrow, I will make the time for it, make yourself available for it." The order is not voiced as a question. With her gaze resting on Tyrel, she inclines her head. "That would be wonderful, my prince." Her hand slips into the bend of his arm, the smile she gives holds a wealth of emotion. Turning her attention back to Roslin, she offers, "Please do join us. So rarely do we get to talk. And if you will be wed soon, then I would like to spend as much time as possible before you leave."

Elisen nods, and he marches out.

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