Tyrel learns of the escape of Elisen and the kidnapping of Ciarrah.
| Tyrel Time |
| Summary: | Tyrel learns of the escape of Elisen and the kidnapping of Ciarrah. |
| OOC Date: | 01/17/2014 |
| Related: | None |
| Players: |
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| Stormvale |
| See Below |
| It is day 15 of the month of Thedor, 229 2E |
You head towards Grand Foyer
Grand Foyer Darfield Castle
It is day 15 of the month of Thedor, 229 2E - 06:37 PM
The Main Foyer of Darfield Castle is an impressive room, purple and grey marble columns stretching along the walls to the high vaulted ceiling above. Between the monumental columns are padded marble benches for the comfort of those who would socialize here. The marble floors shine gently in the illumination from everburning tapers that provide a flickering light. The recesses of the immense entryway are still, however, shrowded in shadows.
To the west lies the impressive set of double doors leading into the throne room, and at either side of them are stairs leading up to the foyer balcony. The east end of the roomis dominated by a large gateway leading out of the castle. To the north lies the library, and the north wing. South, an archway leads into the banquet hall, another hallway goes down to the general quarters.
Tyrel moves through the foyer towards the courtyard. He is armed and armored with his guards following.
"It is not oft crowded your highness." Elisabeth responds to th eprincess, moving to approach her. "I am Lady Elisabeth Haravean, lady in waiting to Princess Roslin. I am waiting to attend her. At the approach of the prince and his guards, Elisabeth steps back again along the edge of the foyer and she dips into another deep curtsey for the prince.
Draventa nods, "That seems to be true." She'll smile a touch brighter, "I am Princess Draventa Moniwid of the Rustles Isle." Drav steps back as well dipping her head in acknowledgment, perhaps not quite as against the wall as Elisabeth. She'll tilt her head and watch the prince.
Tyrel nods to the women in passing, "Your highness, lady." He does not slow his pace, his steps ringing against the marble, and with that he is gone from the room.
City Center City of Stormvale
It is day 15 of the month of Thedor, 229 2E - 06:47 PM
This lovely city stands in the shadow of Darfield Castle. Most of the local peasants reside in the city, carrying out their daily lives under the protection of the royal family. The cobblestone path veers off into darkness southwards towards the marketplace and to the north, it leads towards the castle along Ruxton Street. Crossroads also pass by, making this an intersection where all roads meet in Stormvale. Torch sconces illuminate the buildings and the narrow path at night time, shadows cast all about. The City Watch can be seen every so often, day and night, on their routine patrols.
It is a winter evening. The weather is cold and overcast. The planet Cri hangs over the western sky.
Tyrel moves through in the company of his guards on horseback, he checks his mount for a moment to call over to Allyn, "All well, guardsman?"
Allyn nods to Tyrel and he drops to a knee and bows as is required as greeting, "All is well enough for now Your Highness. A rather quiet evening so far."
Tyrel says, "Those are good tidings. A word for you, the scrolls have been delivered to the temple so you may see some activity near there. See that the news is passed along to your brother." The prince then continues on.
Allyn nods as he rises, "Of course, I shall let him know as soon as I see him again. Or at least he'll put it in the day's report anyway. "Thank you for letting us know."
A small procession of knights accompanies Tyrel as he rides along the city street.
Market Street City of Stormvale
It is day 15 of the month of Thedor, 229 2E - 07:01 PM
Closer to the river, a bustling circle of shops big and small, hawkers, and tradespeople has grown into a full fledged grand market. This little area has become known as the Market Place, and is where most, if not all, buying and selling in Stormvale takes place. Interesting aromas and sounds are known to come from this area, as it's also where a lot of the crafting takes place. Small stalls and carts are interspersed wherever there is room around more permanent buildings and even pavillions set up for special events. Rumour has it there is a thriving black market here, if you know who to talk to.
It is a winter evening. The weather is cold and overcast. The planet Cri hangs over the western sky.
Allyn arrives from the City Center.
Allyn comes running down the street into the market area from the center of town, "Your highness! wait! Something's happened!" he looks around to see if the prince is still around the area.
Tyrel draws rein, the going is slow through the streets and a loud guard gets attention. He turns his horse about, "More clarity, guardsman, what has happened."
Allyn moves over towards Tyrel as he stops, he doesn't want to shout it, but he looks a bit paniced which is odd for him, he leans over some and speaks, trying to keep his voice calm, though he's not out of breath, "The princess..your wife… Laniveer..kidnapped.."
Tyrel considers for a moment then starts walking his horse back in the direction of the city center, "Where is she or are they now?"
Allyn starts to walk along with the prince, not paying attention that he's so close to a horse, "They got on a boat, out to sea the guard that told me said."
Tyrel looks to the guards around him, "You four, go and rouse the captains, get boats out to the water and return my wife. Now." He continues walking his horse, "You said Laniveer, where did you get this information and what is already being done."
The guards set off at a gallop.
Allyn nods, "A guard came up to me just a bit after you left. He had a gash on his face, he said someone named Sereh Temple is dead, that the Laniveer the male one had a bunch of men with him and attacked the party the princess was with and that they kidnapped her."
Tyrel considers for a few more moments then says, "So be it. Guardsman, see to the city and the docks, many troops will be dispatched to ships I wish no opportunists to take advantage of the situation." He then spurs his horse on to greater speed heading towards the castle.
You paged Laetitia, Roslin, and Cayden with 'A messenger rushes to find you. "Prince Tyrel wishes to tell you he has received word that Princess Ciarrah has been taken captive by Lord Elisen and stolen away to the sea. Ships are being sent after her.
Cayden's messenger includes word that he is to ready his ships and pursue immediately.'
You head towards Game Room
Game Room Darfield Castle
It is day 15 of the month of Thedor, 229 2E - 07:26 PM
As you step into the game room, you are greeted by a pair of card tables arranged in the area that previously was the waiting room to the castle infirmary. The tables rest on soft carpeting of a dark hunter green. Lining the walls about two thirds of the way from the bottom is dark wood paneling, beneath a green and gold chair rail. Above the chair rail, the ceiling and the rest of the walls are painted a rich cream color.
As you pass the card tables, which have been partially screened off to cut down on ambient sound, you note that the fireplace and dumbwaiter that graced the infirmary proper remain to fulfill their necessary functions. The former has clustered before it comfortable chairs, upholstered in green with gold accents. Also in the room are a billiards table, a dartboard, and a chess table with chairs flanking the left and right. A sideboard provides snacks and drinks to those who come here to relax and enjoy themselves.
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Contents:
Aldren - A man around 6'0, dressed in green and white.
Avi - A man, just under 6 feet tall, with jet black hair, hazel eyes, and a beard and mustache.
Faerinia - A pale, diminutive young maiden.
Rowena - 5'6, blonde, blue eyes, soft features
Tyrel - A tall handsome young man, wearing fine clothes and clean shaven.
Chessboard
Exits: [O] Upper Hall
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<OOC> Faerinia runs away from Prince.
There's a hell of a ruckus moving through the halls approaching the Game Room.
Those stupid doors that bar the game room from the hallway are slung open. What do they reveal? The Count of Greenshire. His usual manner obvious. A scowl for Avi but most likely eye contact as well. He will remember his place and approach, "Prince Avi." He says all but begrudgingly while he nods and offers the hand to the chest. To the princess he does not know he looks as he raises. "A pleasure my lady." A sly look at the unknown beauty. "How do you find yourself in such company?" Another look at the prince. Are there guards or what not? He does not see any and he continues "With one more we could play cards…OR darts.." His words to no one. But he will continue to the Renden. "It seems we are to meet." He squints his eyes but stops measuring the man and just helps himself to a seat.
There are Kilgour guards outside of the game room, posted at the door where they can keep an ear out for any inappropriate conversations or wrong doings without being such an intrustion upon Rowena's privacy that she'll feel stifled. Odelia, her Lady in Waiting, is present within the room and is about to rejoin the card table Rowena's been seated at. By her hand is a cup of tea and there's a tray that bears a plate, upon which has pastries and other sweets for people to enjoy. Looking up, Ro watches as Aldren speaks, offering him a smile. But, since he's addressing Avi and not her she turns to speak to Faerinia. "Tell me a little bit about yourself. What do you do for recreation?"
Avi turns when the doors open, brow arching up ever so slightly. He inclines his head in Aldren's direction, "Your Excellency. In case you have not met before, this is Prin… sorry Lady Rowena." He's not at way and to him the Stewarts are rulers of Laniveer. It's how they approached the Isles. So he's trying anyway. "It is good to see you again Excellency. I hope you are doing well. I hear congratulations are in order." He then turns back to Rowena, "Ah Lady, I am a boring man. I sail my ships and spend much of my time on the seas. Most of my pursuits surround the sea. I wish I could be more fascinating, but my late wife always said the only things she ever worried about competing for my attentions were the sea and my ship."
"I create miraculous compounds…and play cards. My…lady." Faerinia speaks with her teacup raised high, an act that obscures part of her face, with her ironed out expression aiding the other part. "Books, games of strategy." Failling to address the Count immediately at his entry, her look shifting to a darker aspect for the briefest of twitches. Avi is granted his allotment of air space, as she dwells upon the teacup itself with a look of complete interest.
The Count is about to take that seat when he hears all the noise. He turns quickly, still an eye on the finger island /pirate/ but one to the door and one to the Albino. A lingering glance before he looks back to the door. "What in hells?" He says quietly as he crosses the room back towards the ruckus.
Cayden (Cayd) pages Laetitia and Tyrel: The messenger returns to inform you that Prince Cayden has departed with all due haste. (And if anyone's watching the docks, Six ships will depart in a realistic timeframe for recalling sailors and disembarking thereafter).
Laetitia (Lae) pages Cayden and Tyrel: My messenger will be followed by the Queen who will follow him back to Tyrel so she can kill people.
The sound from the hallway distracts the Laniveeri who looks in the direction it comes from. Makes her have to stop and actually piece together what Avi and Faerinia said to her before she dares respond. "It is pleasure meeting you," she offiers to Aldren at the same time he turns to go back the way he just came from, her expression now wary. "I am sorry, Lord Avi. Lady Faerinia. I…" Falling quiet, she simply waits to see who, or what, is approaching before daring to speak further.
Tyrel arrives at the head of a group of guardsmen and knights. He gives a quick scan of the room then says, "Lady Rowena, you will accompany me, now. The rest of you will excuse the interruption. Lady Odelia you will go to your room immediately and lock yourself in, I suggest you not open the door except to Rowena's voice. What else you may do is on your head." Tyrel is dressed in full armor and armed, his guards the same and not a one of them looks at all pleased at the moment. "There will be some commotion in the castle, please keep yourself from the hallways as much as possible. There was an attack on a noblewoman in the city, it is being dealt with."
Cayden (Cayd) pages Tyrel and Laetitia: (OOC: So am I supposed to find them or just sail around looking?) ;)
You paged Cayden with 'Notify Alasair that you're joining the pursuit, you have 'fast ships'.'
The Count stands back as the interruption happens. He askes the prince. "My prince," Qucikly he acknowledges as he should. "Who was the lady?" He looks to the prince now and steps aside for the apparent princess to leave safely. Still he looks questiongly…
Avi turns at the commotion, an eyebrow arching up. Of course he bows at the Prince's entrance, his brow remained raised. He takes a step back, to not heed the ability of Rowena to go to the Prince. He looks between the Prince and Aldren a moment and resists the urge to let out a sigh. This might mean that he's stuck with Aldren as company for longer then either man might like. At the Count's question Avi glances at the man then turns back to his cup of coffee. The truth is he knows few of the nobles and he has no real attachment to most of them.
Rising to bend deeply at the waist, teacup left to rattle and splash the saucer has Faerinia inexplicably to onlookers shift from tense to more relaxed when the situation is explained. Barely. Her shaded look conveys the lack of surprise communicated by her body at the mention, for she remembers fully the attack on the Baroness Kilgour and does not blanch for a moment.
Ah, well. So much for a night of pleasant conversation and the threatening of one's figure by consuming too many sweets. Rising gracefully, Rowena approaches the Prince, her eyes holding to his. She's either being brought in for her protection or to be questioned, the latter being the lest favorable of the two possibilities that she's faced with now. "Of course, Young Majesty." Tyrel is not made to wait as she doesn't stop to say her goodbyes, a necessary lapse in manners she's sure the others will understand.
Tyrel looks towards Aldren, "Lady Serah Temple is reported to be dead, my wife's lady-in-waiting, my wife is reported to be kidnapped by Lord Elisen and several other men and taken by boat out to sea. You will excuse me if I do not speak on the matter further, the more I think on it the less I seem to remember that Lady Rowena is a woman, a lady, and my cousin." He extends his arm to Rowena, "I begin to remember more that she is her brother's sister and her father's daughter. If you will take my arm, Lady, I have hopes that your company will remind me of the former rather than the later."
You paged Laetitia with 'The messenger will lead you back to the throne room where Tyrel indicated he will be shortly.'
The Count does not fail to notice the weight of things. He ignores the white haired girl and the pirate for now, "Tell me my prince before you leave…" He shakes his head. "We will talk later f you allow." He nods and turns as to allow the man to proceed. No doubt this is surely not the place for discussion.
Avi's brow goes up further. Now that is interesting. And everyone was treating Avi like a pariah. Avi's looking better and better.. Go Laniveer. Thanks for making Avi look like a sweetheart. Avi simply stays off the side, trying to stay out of the way and thanking his stars he had witnesses to his presence. He's never even met Prin… sorry Lord Elisen.
The count is still 4 murders 2 kidnappings for team Avi and 3 murders 1 kidnapping team Stewert
Much to Rowena's credit, she keeps quiet but while she's silent the surprise of that regester upon her face. Tyrel knows she's not a good actress by any measure and wears her heart and her emotions on her sleeve. Arm sliding through his, she nods once, allowing for him to take her wherever she is to be taken by him.
Faerinia joins Avi the presumed pirate in reducing her visibility. She does not move perceptibly, simply she appears to occupy the furthest reaches of the room, the silent listener privy to her distant relative being led away, gears begin to turn. Never are the Kincaid without a few cards up the sleeve.
<OOC> Tyrel will be escorting Rowena to the throne room, the castle will be buzzing and the navy is mobilizing at the docks. Rumors abound. Enjoy!
Tyrel nods towards the Count as he departs.
Rowena begins following you.
Throne Room Darfield Castle
It is day 15 of the month of Thedor, 229 2E - 08:09 PM
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.
Tyrel makes his way down the stairs to the throne room. He is accompanied by his guards and Rowena, but none of Rowena's maids, servants or guards can be seen having been led off to the Laniveer suit. Tyrel is dressed in his traveling armor and is armed, though not enough time has passed since rumors began flying about for him to have done so in response to the news. Word from the harbor below is that ships are heading out already and signaling those on patrol to give chase.
Rowena is just as quiet as she was before they left the game room. Her expression, shocked as it was upon hearing the news, is not stony, her posture a bit straighter than normal as if even more steel has been poured down her spine. Even the angle she holds her chin in is a little higher as if daring anyone to speak to her. For someone who is foreseeing a world of hurt in her immediate future she is remarkably calm.
Laetitia is here, having been pacing with impatience, an object clutched in the Queens right hand which is held steadfastly to, the Queen a broiling well of anger that seems to weave itself into the air about her, like tendrils of rage lashing out. She's dressed as she was all day, deep plum dress, dagged sleeves, plenty of bosom, hair up, and an unmistakable look upon the Queens face as she turns mid-step towards those breaching footsteps. Ah, if looks could burn, the Queen would have Rowena engulfed in flame. But no words, instead a look to Tyrel, expectant. Hungry for flesh to be wrought from bone. She really is sweet. Honest, "The Skingaardian Ambassador has offered their ships to assist pursuit."
Tyrel says, "Kind of her, mother, however that ship is not ready to depart immediately and the ships from Aberdeen were, and I believe Cayden's enthusiasm to return his sister outweighs the kind thoughts of Skingaard. I should also prefer not to mix their captains with ours in case of disagreement in tactics, though we will thank them profusely for the offer when this is passed." He gestures for servants to bring out seats, "May I call for some refreshment for either of you?"
The queen's angered glare is met with something similar although Rowena's lacking some of the fire in her own glare. She hasn't been addressed yet but surely it is just a matter of time before the accusations begin to fly. "I would like a cup of tea, please," she eventually answers and then she tacks on as if in afterthought, "hold the poison." Once the seats are arranged she sits down, smoothing the skirt of her cream gown beneath her backside with her palm as she settles in.
"Watch your eyes, Lady Rowena, for I've a mind to sweep them out with my own claws." Laetitia will state icily as she looks to Tyrel, shaking her head as a seat is brought out for the Queen, the woman moving to sit upon it, hands folding into her lap, item still clutched to tightly, "You look upon a Queen, not some commoner."
Tyrel settles in, and goes silent for a time. When the servents bring drinks he opens a bottle of mead and drinks from it. "I am having a great deal of difficulty at this exact moment, Rowena, thinking of reasons to keep you and your staff alive."
"Word has reached me that there is some confusion regarding the scrolls gifted to us by the gods. Our temple is a stronghold of faith and purity, it is not, however, a military stronghold. The gifts of the gods have ever been moved through the people, the mask, the arrow…" Tyrel lists the relics and who holds them at present. "Such has ever been our way, but it has caused some of those relics to be lost for a time, and while I respect that these scrolls may reveal a new way I will not risk their destruction or theft by leaving them unprotected when the very action of their revelation was a caution against such. I have sent word to the temple that knights will be provided to safeguard these relics until they are fully understood, and that the royal family will sponsor the construction of a secure storage area for them. Until such time as these basic measures I am holding them in safekeeping. I commend those who wish to act in defense of the temple and these relics and will be commissioning a special detail, any who wish to enlist in the military for the express purpose of defending temple sites will be permitted to do so, though not all may be assigned to defend the temple in Darfield."
Rowena looks at the Queen and speaks to her first. "While I understand your anger now is not the time for petty threats and posturing, Your Majesty, as neither will bring back my cousin to you or your son." Spoken calmly, it is as if Rowena's somehow managed to turn her emotions off. The same eerie calm is then turned to Tyrel. "Because you know to do so will not bring your wife back to you…. Tyrel, I had nothing to do with this. Whatever my brother did, he acted alone." There has been no speaking to her about his intentions, nothing to indicate he wasn't still sick. "As far as I knew, he was still being tended to by the healers."
"You have surely been here long enough to know that I do not do petty threats or posturing, Lady Rowena, as I have every intention of you not leaving alive. Thankfully the decision is not mine alone or I'd send your body to your brother wrapped in silk and lace with your spirit very much gone from the vessel in which it resides now." Succinctly stated, the Queen continuing to sit straight backed in the seat. Indeed, she'd have had them killed upon stepping into the courtyard when they first arrived.
"It would seem your brother has abandoned you in the same manner in which your father did. Leaving you completely in the dark, or so you claim. Leaving you to clean a mess in which they both made, you ..completely ineffectual in the grand scheme of things. Tell me what makes you useful right now, Lady Rowena, and why your life should be spared."
Tyrel calls over a messenger and sends word for an announcement to be made, "Pardon, mother, but I am through with this." He rises, "I'm sending this trash back then I'm going to war, Rowena, your brother or your father have two weeks to return my bride in perfect health." He gestures towards Rowena, "She has no value to me, her blood has proven itself false yet again…I will speak with father and with his blessing annouce that the stewert family has lost it's right to nobility, they are fouled."
_ IC Announcements
Message: 12/45 Posted Author
Announcement and Notice Jan 15 2014 Tyrel
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An announcement is made and notices and messengers are sent out from Darfield.
Under guise of seeking peace Elisen Stewert has faked his own poisoning to cast doubt on the good nature of the Kilgour family then murdered, in cold blood, the Lady Serah Temple further he has kidnapped Princess Ciarrah Kilgour. Wishing the return of their beloved Princess the Kilgour family will exchange those members of the Stewert party who remain.
"Sometimes those who seem the most ineffectual are those who truly hold the power in their hands, wanted or not." Rowena looks between one and then the other, unflinching. "I can not assure your wife will be returned to you if I am hurt or killed, Tyrel. You and your mother both know the truth of that. And I, like the both of you, wish for Ciarrah's safe return and for those responsible for this to be made to pay, even if the one responsible for this is truly my brother." It is now that she shakes her head and looks down, clarely troubled. "All I have done is be born into House Stewert, my only sin being coming here with hopes we could somehow find a way to be able to find peace, awkward as my voicing of such intentions have been. You want blood spilled then you'll have it but please, Your Majesties. Be sure that the blood you will spill is that of one worthy of such a punishment as death."
"If you were to be killed, Lady Rowena, you'd already be dead." The Queen will intone as she rises up as her son does, turning to look at him, "I am quite sure your father will give approval of such."
Tyrel nods, "I begin to suspect that father was overly kind when he left their nobility intact and that I was foolishly kind when I allowed them to live." He paces, "I will remain foolishly kind one last time, Rowena, when my armies reach your gates and your city falls, if you surrender I will find some place for you to live out your life in quiet peace, and if you wish less blood to be shed I encourage you to speak to those lords and ladies of Laniveer and tell them what it is you have witnessed. Your father and your brother's actions speak for themselves, but if your only sin is the house of your birth, then I will cleanse you of it by disolving your house and granting you the peace you seek." He throws his bottle of mead across the room into the corner smashing it.
Rowena glances at Laetitia, her eyes once more seeking those of the Queen before she turns away to face Tyrel. "And what would that serve outside of your deeply-seeded need for revenge, Queen Laetitia? I don't think anything else would come out of it. Nothing good, at least. Your satisfaction would be short lived as it would not end the war." Rising herself, she nears the Prince, Rowena's pace slow, measured. "I can not negotiate that, Tyrel. I no longer hold the position that would allow me to. Elisen removed me of that. And I'd no longer be a noble by birth or name, so I would be powerless to speak in any official capacity." She holds out her hands, palms up, each arm held to the side and up at shoulder length. "We'd have to find some middle ground to make this work. And this is not me wanting to hold onto a title or my nobility. I am simply stating it as how I believe it would be."
"Why would it need to serve anything but, Rowena?" No more Lady title, she's already of the opinion that her husband will grant her sons request, and that means Rowena is not a noble, "Nothing good comes out of you being alive, nothing good comes from you being dead other than a feeling of satisfaction, which ..tips the scales somewhat in favor of my own wishes but my husband King and my son Crown Prince Tyrel …are much kinder than I. Even as you proclaim your further unworth and uselessness." A look to her son, the Queen never raising her voice as she spoke to Rowena, "I feel as if this has been plotted out by the trio - a plan in the works all along, purpose of the children being sent for just this. To gain entry into our halls, to spit upon our hospitality despite kindness bestowed, so that one of ours could be stolen. This ..negotiation …I fear will bring us nothing."
Tyrel listens to both the women his eyes not leaving Rowena's hands, after Laetitia finishes Tyrel says, "Lower your hands, Rowena, your family has shown itself to be untrustworthy and I should prefer to return you to your brother with both your hands and all your fingers. I have given you what terms you will have for finding peace." He moves away from Rowena then to receive another bottle, "You are likely correct, Mother, that this suit for peace was nothing but more lies and treachery. I apologize for having ever troubled you or our home with it. There will be no further conversation with the Stewerts only with those lords who have the sense to swear fealty when given that opportunity." Tyrel uncorks the next bottle and lifts it to his lips but lowers it again before drinking.
Rowena's eyes narrow. "And who said I want to go back? You do not get to decide that for me, I am sorry. I might be beneath you, in your opinion, but I am still a free person and until the time you are petty enough to take that away from me I have the right to choose for myself." She turns and faces the Queen, her anger starting to get the better of her. "I would not lie to you or your son or anyone else, Your Majesty. I would sooner lay down my life by my own doing than lie to anyone, you all especially. But you have already decided that I am deceitful. And even sadder, you have convinced your son of it. Without proof that I have. You just assume that because my brother acted against your crown that I must have as well." Turning away from them both, she looks back towards the end of the hall, her head bowing. "I think this conversation is over. Nothing will be acheived while we all angry and seeking to hurt each other with word or action. I want to go back to my room now, if Your Majesties will allow me the honor of remaining there."
Tyrel lets go of the bottle he's holding and reaches out with that hand, he catches hold of her, a handful consisting of hair and the back neckline of her gone then he pulls back and down while his foot lashes out at the backs of Rowena's knees. It'd take a sharp eye to judge which hit the ground first, Rowena or the glass bottle. Where the bottle shatters sending a spray of mead and shards of glass at the one-time princess, Rowena is is then ripped upward with another pull, dragging her to a kneeling position. "That is not how you address the Queen and you do not leave without her permission." His boot presses down hard on the back of her knee keeping the leg pinned while the armor on his knee digs into her back and his hand still wrenches upward on her hair forcing her to remain there.
Well. That was most unexpected. One moment the Queen was about to open her mouth to call upon the guards to grab the woman and then boom - there's Tyrel. Going all crazy for his momma. She can't help the sudden surprised smile that ghosts across her lips, a hand coming up to touch to her chest; she's genuinely touched by the gesture. He /does/ love her. Which she never doubted of course, but the sudden ferocity in which he forces Rowena to bend knee to her. Oh, how it makes her heart swell, those green eyes of hers shining such appreciation for her son. He will indeed make a grand King one day.
"You may think you are a free person, Rowena, but you have been declared a prisoner. And if we tell you that you are going? You go. If we say you die, you die. You are not in control of your destiny, Rowena. And you will heed us all." A momentary pause as she lets her words sink in, "Crown Prince Tyrel, I don't believe that Rowena or her people deserve any longer the comforts of our good will any longer." Said with a look towards her son, jaw tensing a bit, "I trust you'll find something more appropriate so the Stewarts filth doesn't drag down the rest of the nobility with it's stench."
Tyrel succeeds but not with out a fight from Rowena who is not about to give him the satisfaction of going down upon her knees without her fighting. By the time she is taken down her legs hurt as does her scalp and she has to fight again, this time to keep tears at bay. While Laetitia speaks she nods once but that's all the response she can muster.
Tyrel nods saying, "I will see to it, Your Majesty." He removes his foot from the back of Rowena's knee but doesn't release her hair, choosing instead to drag her about by it. He keeps his hand out to the side at about waist level so that she is forced to walk bent over and if she resits he wrenches quite hard to pull her in the approprite direction. "I will give Rowena an evening to compose herself and move in an orderly fashion to appropriate quarters, if she cannot manage to find her place in the world then I will hang her and those that once were her staff out in gibbets to encourage the speedy return of my wife."