Thedor 27, 229: Two Months

Two Months
Summary: The Princess Roslin pays Princess Emerit a visit, the first in a long time, and the two engage in a pleasant talk as if they had never been apart. The visit ends with a promise, given to the Kilgour.
OOC Date: 27/01/2014 and 29/01/2014 (OOC)
Related: Recent logs about Logen's and Roslin's betrothals
Players:
Roslin Emerit 
Moniwid Suite
The first thing usually noticed about this room is the sense of openness, as it is not laden with heavy furniture. The floor is a soft grey marble. One wall features a huge window, taking up almost the whole wall and showing a lovely view of the horizon. To the right of the window, there is a stone fireplace decorated with amber and some old carvings. There is an incredibly cozy couch in front of the fireplace, in a dark brown cotton type material.
In the middle of the room, there is a burnished oaken long table with eight matching chairs. There are eight crystal place settings ready for use. A wild flower centerpiece has been placed on the table as decoration. The floor of the dining area has been covered with the prey of some hunter in the form of a brown bear fur rug.
There is a smaller wooden door, leading to the Grand Duke's Room, on the left wall of the room . On both sides of the door, small candles are available to provide light when it is dark. There are also candle sconces on the other walls and a candelabra on the table. Above the fireplace, the prey of some other hunters resides: two deer heads with beautiful antlers can be found, one to each side. Between the deer, the edges of two sharp, crossed swords glint.
27th of Thedor, 229

Roslin has been neglecting some of her friends. That’s very ill of her, and she knows it. The weeklong mourning for the queen has passed and Roslin has determined to spend a few days in partial mourning. As such, her gown of velvet is a silvery grey - very fine, even for such an occasion, with a violet purple bodice and underskirt, embroidered with small stones. She wears her hair up with a silver tiarra upon her crown of red braids, and a silver eight-pointed star around her throat.

Today, it seems, is a good day to visit the Ambassador from Rustles Island - a friend, true, but also an important member of court. And there has been so much excitement around the Moniwids this past week, how can Roslin refuse? She comes to see the woman with a maid in two and two guards, who will wait by the door once she’s announced.

Emerit sits on the couch before the fireplace, her feet drawn up under her skirts as she leans to one side, one arm supporting her while the other hand is busy playing with that big ambassador pendant – a pendant that can be quite cumbersome at times, just like the office that rests on the young princess’s shoulders. A pair of slippers can be found before the couch, hinting that Emerit’s feet are once again bare beneath all those skirts. Her attire is still somber, a dark blue sammit with almost no embroidery, except for one bigger snake in black that seems to twist about her waist line.

The Moniwid princess will turn her head as Roslin is admitted, a delighted smile brushing over her young and freckled features, and she will rise – her bare feet coming to stand on the cold stone floor – to offer a curtsey to the Kilgour princess.  “Your highness!”, she greets, the pleasure at the unexpected guest clearly visible in her mien. “I am so happy to see you! Such a long time it has been since last we spoke!” Her head turns towards her handmaiden. “Yulanda, go fetch us some refreshments and… watered wine?” Her moss green eyes shifting to Roslin, as if to make sure this choice of beverage will be agreeable to her. “Pray join me and have a seat.” Her slender fingers gesture towards the couch and the comfortable chairs. She of course will settle herself where she was before, her feet vanishing soon again beneath those dark blue skirts.

Roslin cannot help but smile at Emerit’s response - seeing such happiness of late has become a rarity. She stands before the woman and lowers herself into a respectful curtsy in response.

“And I you, my dear friend. I am so sorry it has been so long. Business for both of us has been most trying of late, I daresay.” She nods to the maid, and moves to sit in one of the comfortable chairs, her back high and straight. It’s a shame that such a friendship as this could not be enough to hold an alliance together, but there it is. Still, Roslin seems most happy and relieved in Emerit’s presence.

“How are you, my dear?”

A soft sigh will escape the Moniwid at Roslin’s inquiry. “Oh, I should be fine I suppose, with those negotiations of betrothal and alliances more or less finalized.” The smile on her face is faint though, as her hands fold before her in her lap. “Whereas I have not had the chance to wish you joy on your own betrothal. Oh,… I do remember my visit to you, after Duke Ronan had summoned me to speak of betrothals and such, and my…. misstep in assuming he would consider me.” A soft chuckle ripples through the room, as Emerit’s eyes start to sparkle with amusement, that will fade a touch when she reaches out for Roslin’s hand. “How do you feel about all that. It must be… quite exciting I assume.” Her gaze studies the Kilgour attentively, as her hand gives Roslin’s a light squeeze.

“I had hoped he might consider you. I’ve met your sister once or twice, but as you must know I have the highest opinion of you. And you are somewhat legitimized in your status. Men can be so difficult,” Roslin smiles, almost fondly at the thought. “I am…” She searches for a way to describe it. “I am very happy, I must admit. I have always thought my future lay in a foreign marriage, perhaps to an heir. But with this marriage I shall be able to stay with my beloved Mobrin all my life, and assist my brother as he ascends to the throne, when the time comes. And His Grace …” She blushes a little. “There are so few men in the world that I admire as much as he. He is clever, strong, capable, honest, and loyal. Everything I should wish all men to be. In him I am truly blessed.”

She takes a moment just to glance out the window, to engage in a moment of daydream before she returns her gaze to the Princess beside her. “Ah, yes. That betrothal. I have spent some time in the last few days wrapped up in all that. I understand that their first meeting did not go terribly well. When will the arrangement be announced?”

A warm smile lightens up her demeanour, as Emerit hears Roslin’s comment. “I am so glad for you. News of betrothal do not always bring joy to those involved. To see you are quite taken with him already… and that you will remain in your home country after all,… I only wish my sister will find near half as much happiness in the match I have negotiated for her. And yes, I heard as much. Your brother has quite a temper it seems. If he should wish to see me to discuss certain rules of betrothal, I shall be very happy to oblige.” A light twitch at the corners of her mouth, accompanied by a confident expression of Emerit’s eyes suggests she does not feel intimidated at all by the prospect.

“The arrangement will be announced by the Voice of the King, I presume.”, the Moniwid Princess will continue. “We only need to agree on a date for the wedding, there is still the period of mourning that needs to be considered. For Prince Logen’s wife, and yes, for your mother as well.” Emerit pauses, as she suddenly realizes she has failed to offer her condolences yet. “I am so sorry, your highness. The Queen will be certainly missed. To think that she was present at the beginning of the negotiations, and now – gone.” Emerit’s hand moves to her pendant, and her gaze is lowered, her mien the mirror of her sympathy.

“Your words are kind, Your Highness. I thank you for them. There is of course my wedding to consider as well - as our arrangement was made first, so too our wedding should happen first. His Grace intends we are to wed in Sutherland. I intend to invite as many of the court down with us by fast ship - and to be returned the same way - for the event. I hope you shall be able to attend.” She takes the wine once it is offered, smiling graciously and taking a sip.

“Yes … Logen is a fairly difficult creature to understand. I cannot say that I understand him myself very much. But as you have ears, no doubt you have heard the stories of our fights and how infamous they have been in the past.” She still seems a bit amused by that. “But he and I had a long talk about his behavior regarding your sister. I informed him how entirely inappropriate he was, and how he ought to spend the next 20 years on his knees to her and your family to make up for it. I believe he has gotten the message. Is your sister faring well, after it all?”

“Oh, certainly,” Emerit replies, her lips curving into a delighted smile. “I understand those two weddings will have to be scheduled appropriately. And I will be most happy to attend yours!” Her gaze shifts towards Yulanda and she accepts her cup of watered wine as well, inclining her head gracefully. “Thank you.” The handmaiden will put down a plate with fruits and cheese onto the table before them as well, before she will retire to her chair at the back. “And I am glad you spoke with your brother. I haven’t been able to catch up with my sister myself, as she does not exactly seek my company, but both the chaperone and her handmaiden reported to me about what happened.”

The Mist of the Island leans back on that couch and takes a sip of the wine, her mien slightly pensive. “The recent reports are much more positive though. It seems Logen has offered her a room where she can persue her art during the day, painting. And I hear the prince does indeed try to appear more agreeable.” Moss green eyes shift from the fire in the hearth to Roslin, and the Moniwid smiles faintly. “As for my sister… she is a tough soul. Maybe her anger at me arranging this will keep her wrath from turning towards others. We are… not on the best of terms, to be honest. Never were. My half-siblings do not think highly of me, apart from the Grand Duke Mantilo.” She sighs softly. “However, I hope, she will warm to the match, as soon as she knows your brother better. Until then… I will be wise and keep my comments and advice towards her to the most necessary minimum as not to stir her opposition to the match any more than I already have.”

Roslin can’t help but smile mischeviously. “Oh, he made that offer? I’m so glad it went over well,” Sneaky Roslin! She sips her own wine again, setting it aside to pick up a bite of cheese. For a moment, she considers reclining back, curling her feet up beneath her. Then? She does it, abandoning the appropriateness of poise and posture for comfort with a friend. Mmm, the power of cheese.

“Yes as I recall, Logen may have mentioned that he was most displeased with you … because your sister may have mentioned she was most displeased with you. Logen does not typically like to have … how shall I say this. He takes every cue, and often bases his opinions and impressions off what others might say. I had to remind him that you are, indeed and in fact, a Princess.” The Princess shakes her own head a little dismissively. “Honestly in such a family as ours I really have no idea how he managed to turn out this way. But if he’s already doing better, that’s a good sign. And if your sister is stronger of personality than she first seemed, that will also be good. She’ll need it. But I hope being a Kilgour makes up for it somewhat - we will take good care of her. Of that I promise you.”

There is an amused but approving flicker in her green eyes when Emerit sees Roslin follow her example. “Yes,… I am glad they seem to get along better. But I am curious as to what your brother will say to me when I meet him in person - which has not happened as of yet.” A soft chuckle escapes the Moniwid, and her gaze finds Roslin’s once again. “Oh, how I’ve missed these conversations. You must promise me to spend more time with me, as long as you are still allowed to, until those duties of a married woman will claim you, and you will be far, far away in Sutherland.” Her gaze is lowered and her mien grows thoughtful. “There will be little need for me here, after Draventa is safely wed. I have pondered… returning to my home. Someone else may take up the office of ambassador. Now, that the alliance is finally established…” Her fingers play with that pendant, as Emerit’s gaze shifts once again to the Kilgour Princess. “You have no idea how heavy this office can weigh on my shoulders at times. As this big and heavy pendant here - not at all suited to be worn by a young princess such as me.”

Roslin tears off a bit of the cheese to put in her mouth. And then another - this is how she goes about eating it. “I wish I could say what his reaction will be. But I cannot - it is impossible to tell. It will depend more upon his mood than anything you might say or do.” Something in Roslin’s memory makes her laugh. “Why I caught him in a strange one recently, and he talked as if he and I were best friends!” No doubt it is well known that Roslin and Logen are a combative combination.

“You are right though - I have been neglecting my friends. I am sorry for that. It is my own doing. But I shall see it properly mended from now on.” She leans forward to swipe up her wine glass before settling back comfortably with it. Nibble. Sip. “But I shalln’t be so far away as all of that. The war will be starting up soon and Ronan will be needed here, at my brother’s side. And he will want me here too, I think, while he is gone.” Just as it is known that Logen and Roslin are very far apart, it is equally known that Roslin and Tyrel spend great amounts of time together. “No, my duties will be split between Sutherland and here, and so shall my time be. And as long as you are here, if your greater duties are seen to, it would be nice to have some companions going back and forth sometimes. And you would get to see and know Sutherland, which - besides being rich and beautiful - is warmer than here.”

She considers something in her wine glass. “Would you be happier, at home? You know there is always a place for you here, Ambassador or not. And who knows? Perhaps a Knight or a Lord in your future.”

Now it is Emerit’s turn to reach for a piece of cheese, and a delighted expression will spread on her features as soon as she tastes it, while listening to Roslin’s words about Logen. “However that encounter will go,… I want to assure you that I’ll manage just fine,” she remarks with a smirk. “I’ve mastered far more challenging conversations.” A pause, as she listens to Roslin’s plan of splitting her time between Sutherland and the capital, and she nods. “It does sound tempting. It really does…” Her gaze growing pensive as her moss green eyes wander towards the window. “I am not sure, if I would be happier at home. But Mantilo will be there. I feel so lost without him, at times.” She sighs softly. “And I have failed to make friends at this court, you being the exception, your highness.” A warm smile is offered to Roslin. “And besides… I sort of promised Draventa to refrain from my post as soon as she is wed. I doubt she will enjoy encountering me here, once she is settled, and this court will become her home…” Emerit’s lips curve into a halfhearted smile. “As for the knight or lord… I have not met any one who would really consider me as a match. The most agreeable candidate,” she lowers her gaze with a slightly awkward expression, “being that Prince of Jadda. Foolish of me, I know. Yet I felt most at ease when I met him - it feels like ages ago at that feast that was held to welcome him. He is gone now, I presume. With the current situation as it is?” A glance is shot in Roslin’s direction, and she chuckles. “Apart from him, noone was really interested, or visibly enjoying my company.” Her hands fold before her as she admits that.

“Oh my dear,” Roslin chuckles. “I have no doubt that /you/ will be fine. It’s him I’m worried about - always him that I worry about. But tell me - what is between you and your sister that is so poisionous? Logen and I have managed to share a family, a realm, even a castle together and no one has died. Well, no one relating to our arguments, I should say. Can the animosity between you and Draventa be worse? Perhaps, if you stayed as Ambassador, in you she would have an ally and would come to see you as I have - as a treasure.”

She idly sips her wine, enjoying the flavor mingling with the cheese. “Friends at court are a difficult thing, that I will grant you. I do not think I have too many that I should call simply friends - most are those I have come across during other business. You, when you first arrived and there was all that … confusion with your brother. Some of the Lords in business we’ve had together. Even Lady Elisabeth, my lady-in-waiting, why we met while we were both pursuing studies in Lakeshire. No - very few things in the way of friends directly. But friendship grows from other things, I’ve found.” She smiles at some thought. And the smile grows as talk turns to the Jaddan Prince.

“You should have had the envy of much of the court were you to catch that one - myself included. Who ever thought a Jaddan savage could be so … refined? Handsome? And …” Roslin can’t help but blush and giggle a bit. “Those tunics he wore when he was here - with his arms bared. Such arms!” She leans back again, sighing at the memory.

“It is a shame he is not with us now - perhaps things with Jadda would not be as tense as they are now. I admit that your status as a bastard would make matches difficult. But you are a Princess all the same, and there are many Lords and Knights who would be honored to call a Princess wife. I find men see so little past what is honorable sometimes, they forget to look at the woman herself.” Roslin shakes her head dismissively. Ah, Men.

A shadow falls over Emerit’s features and she sighs again. “You have no idea. They… hated me ever since my father brought me back home with him. And now Draventa seems to think I negotiated her betrothal for my own ambitions… Ambitions I do not have. I never asked for this office, to be honest. It was given to me by Mantilo, and he never gave me much of a choice.” Her fiery red locks bounce about her as she shakes her head lightly. “Draventa is blaming me for everything that is happening to her presently. But I suppose I have to live with that.” Her hand moves towards the table to take the cup for another sip of wine, her gaze dark as her thoughts seem to linger a little longer on her family. But not for long.

“The prince Naazil,… you and I know, he would have been beyond my grasp. Besides, there wouldn’t have been any benefit of a match between he and I. No, I just found his company to be agreeable. And I liked his tiger.” A warm smile lightens up the Moniwid’s demeanour as she tilts her head, almost chuckling at the memory of all those terrified courtiers.

She will sigh softly, her moss green eyes raising to meet Roslin’s gaze again, a sparkle of mischief now clearly visible within them as she reaches out to give the Kilgour’s hand another squeeze. “Alright. I promise to stay around for… let’s say, two months after your wedding. If there should not be any eligible candidate by then…” She shrugs, raising her cup with her free hand, in a playful toast.

“You married your sister to the second son of the most powerful family on the continent. What a terrible sibling you are,” Roslin teases, unable to hold back a grin. “Really it’s no wonder they can’t stand you.” It’s obvious from her tone that she’s teasing. “What does your sister think you are getting out of this? What does she think you aspire to be?”

Leanin foreward after a moment, Roslin does narrow her eyes slightly at the Bastard Princess. “I have some ideas. One in particular. But it really does depend on the pride of other men. And they are such prideful things. But I think … well, we’ll see.” Already scheming, the red-headed princess leans back once more.

“I think that such a match would actually have caused us alarm, here. And he was such a man to be around. But let me ask, my dear - what are your ambitions in life?”

“I have no idea what she thinks, really. And I feel I can’t do anything to convince her that I didn’t have any larger scheme on my mind when I negotiated this, and no, I do not plan to take over Rustles Island!” The Mist of the Island lets out a melodious chuckle. One brow is raised as Roslin leans closer. “Ideas? Indeed?” She shoots the Kilgour a curious glance. The question has her bite her lip thoughtfully. “Do I have any ambitions? I have never given any thought so far. Power and influence have never been really part of my goals. Still. I feel I might have some counsel to offer. If I could find someone who would value my wit and intelligence. Can such a man be found? Most men will feel intimidated, I fear.” Her gaze shifts to Roslin again and she smiles. “A sensible match, aye, that is what I would prefer. Far from all those tempests of the heart that can cause so much grief. And maybe… it would be a good thing after all to search for such a match here, of all places. The Dowager Duchess is up to something, I am sure. If I should return…” The fingers around that cup tighten and Emerit takes another sip of the wine. “I better not tempt her…”

“Well, I’m sure she and I shall be talking. Perhaps I shall glean a bit more of her opinion.” Roslin is ever a sneaky little thing, isn’t she. “But yes, I daresay you have a great deal of counsel to offer. Tell me something - you are called a Bastard Princess. In your country, are you legitimized? In Mobrin, as you have taken your father’s name and a title aproppriate for his daughter, we would more or less consider you his child. It would be fairly-well accepted. Is it so, in your lands?” Roslin nods to the servant who pours her another cup of wine. Delicious, delicious wine. “And the Dowager Duchess - I assume that is your father’s wife? She sounds terrifying already.”

Another bit of cheese and fruit dissapear into Roslin’s mouth while she considers. “I am with you on the passions of the heart - useless things. Only ever destructive, that I have seen. I would never marry for love. It only breeds failure. I am pleased to have been betrothed to a man of good sense, honesty, integrety, and strength. I admire Ronan Crawford very much. In truth I think I could not have asked for a better man to be given to.” Remembering that once Roslin sent Ronan to Emerit, she blushes a little. “In truth I … always thought so. Even when it was all but certain he would be betrothed to Princess Nima. And when I suggested he look to Rustles Island for his wife.”

A stray lock is pushed to the side as Emerit considers Roslin’s question about her status. “I am legitimized, aye, of course. My father insisted I should be brought up as a princess, as befits his daughter. Still… That name ‘Bastard Princess’ is usually used behind my back, by those who prefer to look down on me because of the stain of my birth. Duchess Annya Moniwid has never liked me, for apparent reasons. I am not wroth at her, only sensible enough to apply a healthy amount of caution when dealing with her.” There is a light rustle of her skirts as her feet shift a little below all that dark blue fabric. “And I am so happy for you, that your… sensible match is providing you with a husband that will offer fascination beyond the delight of agreeable conversations.” The Moniwid chuckles, her happiness for the Kilgour genuine, as it seems. “He was all charming when he clarified I was not really a candidate.”, she adds with a wink, smiling at the memory.

“Was he charming, truly?” Roslin grins. “You really must tell me about it. I have always known him to be something of a blunt instrument, but then I find that charming in it’s own way.” She sighs a little. “I’m glad you’re not cross with me about him. Pushing him about, toward your family and Princess Nima’s when it seems it was I who should end holding his hand. After the wedding, I mean. Metaphorically speaking.” Cue the blush. “But … well anyway. I had nothing to do with the arrangement. The shock of it nearly killed me. I haven’t spoken to Nima yet, though. I imagine she’s not like to be very pleased with me. Although we are hoping for further announcements of betrothal soon from the Kundari. It is a shame your brother returned home, or he may have liked to meet her.”

Roslin looks over the other redhead curiously. “I must say I do not think I am able to really blame your father’s wife for disliking you. If Ronan came home with another woman’s child and said I would raise it in my household, I do not know quite how I would react. I do not like to think I would be cruel, but … it must have been very hard for her. But that is not her fault, nor yours.”

Another melodious chuckle ripples through the room at Roslin’s question about Ronan. “Aye, charming, in that very special way of his.” Her amusement not meaning to insult, obviously. “I have met her once, the Princess Nima,” Emerit remarks then. “She seems a pleasant person. Perhaps a touch too foreign for local tastes. Ah, I am only jesting.” She bites her lip again, lowering her gaze. She nods though to the Kilgour’s comment about the Moniwid family’s stance towards her. “It is not only the stain of my birth, I fear, but that my father always seemed to enjoy my company. He took me with him on hunts and such, when the others would just stay at home. That preference he has shown for my person has been continued through Mantilo, in a way. It must be hard for a mother to accept her husband prefers to be more around his bastard child than his legitimate family. So yes… You’re right. I can’t really blame them either.” Another sip of wine is taken. “Still. They haven’t been very nice towards me, which I can’t really forget either. All in all a complicated situation.”

“It doesn’t sound like there was a way the situation could ever be entirely happy,” Roslin says, lamenting the path of her friend’s life thus far. “Still. Two months. That’s what you’ve promised me, and that’s what I’ll work with.” She smiles then, slipping her feet out from beneath her skirts to rise. The cup is handed off to the servant. “Don’t get up, you’re too comfortable to look at there. I’ll see myself out. But we’ll talk again soon, alright?” Roslin promises, leaning down to give the other Princess a kiss on the cheek. “In the meantime, do try to keep your spirits up. Spring will be here soon - that’s something, at least.”

Emerit’s lips will curve into a smile. “Two months, after your wedding, Roslin.” The honorific for once dropped, as would be acceptable between two girls of their age, regardless of their royal blood. She will move to rise as well, but when the Kilgour asks her to stay where she is, she will lean back again. “Am I?”, she inquires, tilting her head to the side, her moss green eyes gleaming with the relaxed delight this conversation has bestowed upon her. “We shall speak soon!”, she says, offering her own kiss to Roslin’s cheek in turn. “Ah, spring! I can’t wait for the warm sun, the flowers. The green!” She will straighten, her head turned as she watches her royal guest depart. “Thank you for your visit. And a good day to you.” The smile will remain on her young freckled features, even after her visitor has left.

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