Nar 08, 228: Royal Introductions

Royal Introductions
Summary: On an idle late morning Princess Emerit meets the Kilgour Princess Caillin and her own cousin Prince Conall Aberdeen - and moreover his Royal Highness, the crown prince Tyrel. However, her attempt at taking up diplomatic negotiations is not graced with luck, as Tyrel is about to leave with his troops.
OOC Date: 11/07/2013 (OOC)
Related: Logs regarding the Moniwid Delegation, Night's Dessert and New Acquaintance and Officially Arrived
Players:
Emerit Conall Caillin Tyrel 
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.
Nar 8th, 228

A late morning it is indeed, and time seems to stretch on endlessly. The Mist of the Island sits on the couch - no, she is sprawled all over it, lying on her back, her fiery long curls spreading out beneath her head like an ocean of red fire. Her dress of dark green satin with embroideries of black snakes on the bodice contrasts nicely to her pale complexion. Before her on the table is a plate with fruit and cheese, hardly touched so far, and a cup with watered wine. Holding some grapes with her hand above her face, Emerit eats them slowly with slightly bored delight, one by one. Three guards in Moniwid colours stand unobtrusively at the wall, watching the display of youthful leisure which might appear - in a somewhat innocent way - slightly provoking.

Conall is soon enough entering with Caillin on his arm as he leads her inside. "I think the cooks should be ready in a moment." He assures her before spotting Emerit and nodding his head to her as he regards her for a long moment. "Cousin. I see you are well." He offers before helping Caillin into a seat. "I'll be just a moment. Mingle." He tells the two of them.

Caillin steps inside the salon with wide smile in her bright face. "Oh, I can't wait! I feel a bit hungry," she chuckles and glances at the woman inside. "Oh, Your Highness, enjoying your morning?" Princess asks quite formaly, because she is the host, as Prince already mentioned her today twice. So, girl tries to remain friendly. However, her attention quickly is turned to Conall, who helps her to take a seat. Of course, girl brushes through her lightly blue skirt with soft fingers, after she sits, just to make the fabric fall elegantly and natty on the ground. Caillin sits straight with a warmth in her grey eyes, which follows the Prince.

Emerit's moss green eyes drift idly towards the door, just in time to notice the new arrivals. And while she does not exactly jump out of the seat she moves into a more appropriate and upright position with the natural grace of the young maiden she is. Connall gets a wary glance and a nod, as she puts the grapes back onto the plate. "Cousin. I am well enough thank you." The hint of a smile tugs at her mouth.

The Princess's entrance however seems to impress her more, Emerit rises with a sudden swiftness from her seat and lowers herself into a deep curtsey. "Your Royal Highness, I am pleased to see you." Her eyes are studying Caillin attentively and, almost in response to her smoothening of her skirts she does so as well, slender long-fingered hands brushing over the cool dark green fabric of her dress, before she resumes her seat. There is an awkward pause, before Emerit leans forward and takes her cup of watered wine, immediately noticing that the other two nobles are in lack of one. "Pray, forgive me. I am sure you would like something to drink? Or have you already arranged for a servant to provide you with some?"

It takes a moment but soon enough Conall makes his reapparance. "So, what did I miss?" He asks with a smile on his lips. Soon behind him comes the wine. "Think the deer meat will be a moment longer to be sliced and diced. I asked for some as appertizer you see. You are free to join us, Emerit." He says before moving to find a seat and have wine poured for those wanting.

Caillin just follows the Prince with her gaze and smile dances on her lips. Though, she tries to sit mannerly as polite lady, without any hints to her emotions. So, girl chews on her lip until Conall finds a seat. She smiles to him. However, soon, just to fre herself from staring at the Prince, Caillin glances at Emerit "So, how you enjoying your stay? Do you have everything what you need, Your Highness? I hope you visited the market. There is a baker, who sells so tasty pikelets! Today I was there…" sighs girl remembering her morning "As always, met with some villige children, gave them to eat. Though, this time your cousin joined us, so if you do not believe, that these pikelets were tasty, ask for him!" Caillin sniggers.

Tyrel pushes into the Salon, followed by Sir Roane Leask, a knight of the Rioga. Tyrel is arguing with him, "No damnit… I will not send the third battalion. They MUST…" his voice trails off as he sees the gathered crowd, particularly his sister. He instantly smiles, inclining his head, "There you are, my sister. I had hoped to see you before we left." He glances to Roane, then back to Caillin, "The first and second battalions will be leaving this afternoon."

Conall smiles and nods at the talk, "Indeed quite tasty." He offers with a smile. As for Tyrel, he grins at the man, Nodding a bit as he listens, "I shall leave with them then. The boats should know to make their way around to Weston." He offers with a small smile.

Emerit's brows rise a touch at Conall's announcement upon his return. "Thank you, cousin. If her Royal Highness has not objections…?" Canting her head to the side, the Mist of the Island casts Caillin a glance of polite reverence, alas, the amused spark in her eyes gives away that she doesn't expect the princess to refuse her the hospitality a host owes his guest.

"Oh, I do enjoy it, your highness. The quarters you have provided us with are adorable." Emerit replies to Caillin, inclining her head a touch with a grateful smile. "And no, I haven't been to the market yet. I have ventured only so far as the Bard's Tale Tavern, and my visit there was too short to get a full impression of what the place has to offer." A light chuckle follows at some amusing memory, perhaps.

But then all amusement fades and makes way for an expression of awe. Again, the Mist of Rustles Island rises, her mien respectful, as she lowers herself into the most graceful curtsey she can muster. "Your… Royal Highness." A glance to Tyrel's face and she knows who he must be, his regal bearing and his address of Caillin dissipating all doubts of his identity at once. Her gaze lingers on his face for a fraction of a second before she lowers her gaze.

When Tyrel enters the room, Caillin joyfully jumps on her feet, forgetting about other people around. She springs closer near her brother and falls into his armful, cuddling her head up to his heart. "I wish I could go with you," she murmurs.

Tyrel smiles as he returns the hug from his sister, even kissing her on the top of the head. After a moment, he grabs her and pulls her away so he can look into her eyes, "I know you wish you could come, sister, but war is no place for women." His words are firm, but gentle. He then starts to the sideboard, but notices Emerit, and his stride slows to a near stop. He looks her over appraisingly, then offers his own bow, "My lady." He has no clue who she is, but assumes she is nobility. After he has bowed, he turns once more toward the sideboard, lifting a bottle of wine to pour himself a goblet.

Emerit bites her lip as she sees Caillin rush at her brother, a smile slowly spreading over her face as she watches the royal enthusiastic outbreak of sisterly love. As if she had experienced a similar feeling as well, and all too recently. Her demeanour sobers momentarily as she glances towards her cousin. Very well, if Conall decides to just ignore her, she can do so as well.

However, when Tyrel greets her, Emerit blushes slightly at his assessing stare. "Not a lady.", she can't help but correct him. "I am… Princess. Emerit Moniwid. My brother and I have ventured far from our home on Rustles Island, your Royal Highness, to seek your friendship. And… to offer an alliance. Possibly. If we can agree on terms, that will be agreeable to both you and us." The words escape her, before she can hold them back. Looking slightly worried that she may have uttered something inappropriate, Emerit lowers her gaze again and lets herself fall back onto that couch. But she does cast Tyrel a cautious glance, anxiously awaiting his reaction - if he will grace her with one.

Caillin sighs, when her brother remainds, that war is not the place for a woman. Moreover, when Emerit starts taking about business, Princess just gives a kiss to her brother's cheek and gets back to sit near the Conall, eating and drinking what servants braught for them. She does not interrupt the conversation of her brother with another Princess.

Tyrel glances back toward Emerit, and as she announces that she is a Princess, he squares up on her, looking her over once more, with a raised brow. "I see. Then… welcome to Mobrin…" He gives a bow, "…highness." He offers a smile, then turns back to the sideboard to replace the cork in the bottle. At that moment, a page bursts into the room, bowing to those present, then openly telling Tyrel, "Your men are ready, highness." With that, the page is gone. Tyrel looks to Conall, "We ride!" He turns toward Caillin, "You shall see us off." He smiles at his sister, motioning toward the door. "After you, sister."

Caillin sighs and follows her brother, offering a smile to Emerit before leaving…

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