"Of course, thank you." he responds to the woman.
"Again, I am sorry, but important matters need discussing. I am afraid I must take my leave of you."
Valignatir then turns, and makes his way to the Princess' throne through the crowd, weaving around the conversating nobles.
Edit:
Nev listens to the conversation around her, wondering if Gabrielle would ever return to the stage, and if she would, in fact, join Lady Kyra. I am certain it would make for one of the most popular shows in Oppara... She listens as Val and Kyra discuss the theatre, and listens to Lord Scierina as he excuses himself. She turns so that Gabrielle can see her, and makes a small face of concern. I am not overly impressed by the Lord Scierina, I do hope Gabrielle is not forced to make a decision in regards to marriage sooner than she would like.
She glances at a tray of wine glasses as a servant walks by, and begins to reach for a glass before deciding better of it. I fear I will never enjoy the sweet taste of many wines... If only a tankard of mead could look as lovely. She looks about the room, and watches as a beautiful young woman walks towards the group. As Valignatir excuses himself she lifts her arm slightly and gives him an awkward wave, and turns back towards the other women. As she listens to the room, she hears of her supposed relationship, and feels the blood drain from her face a bit. {i]If only they knew what really happens when I visit Val's home every week...[/i]
”My Lady Rubicon, Gabrielle, it has been a pleasure but I believe I will get some air. Enjoy the festivities.” She attempts to sound like she believes dancing and conversation count as festivities, but likely fails. As she turns to walk away, Thorn takes to the air to make his rounds of the room. She can be seen walking towards the gardens once more.
As Thorn flies around the room, he does his best to pay attention to the guests in the room. Nev would need his advice and knowledge... If only she would put more effort into understanding politics rather than depending on me to counsel her... She could be skilled at it if she tried... He glares at Val near the throne. I do not like, nor trust, that man. I do wish Nev would stop spending her time with him, it will do nothing to help her reputation. These rumors will do more harm than I believe she realizes... Though, for him, it might give him an edge, to have a Taldan Noble seen to approve of him. Maybe I can find something else for her to kill, and she would stop this nonsense...
After he gathers his information, he returns to Nev in the gardens. She is standing in a back corner, looking out to the ocean. She did look beautiful, with the moonlight glancing off the metal in her dress. The non-perceptive might think she was surrounded by falling leaves, but he knew that it was his pixie kin flying around her, their wings fluttering softly.
Kyra grinned at Sclerina's counter quip, sensing that he'd obviously missed the point rather badly. Rubicon was a military family, they didn't care about throwing overly elaborate parties - though it was fun to attend others. She simply inclined her head as the man walked off and let it pass, mingling instead with those who remained. Soon after she noted the approach of another lady into their midst, calling Valignatir to the Princess.
"Oh my, I wonder what that was about. We'll have to press the Ambassador later for details." Kyra said bemusedly, though as she noticed the gossip of some nearby nobles, she felt concerned when the topic became clear and the girl of that topic was noticeably affected. As Nev excused herself though Kyra found herself sighing. "Poor thing, put a shield in her hands and she could probably stop a charging owlbear; but she's practically a babe in the woods when it comes to the rapier words of the court." Kyra said somewhat sadly to Gabrielle. She left it unsaid that her...closeness with the Ambassador was mostly the cause, though Kyra wasn't aware how close that really was.
Though, listening to the crowd, she suddenly became somewhat concerned about whispers of assassination. Deciding it might be better to help her ears, she cast Heightened Awareness and decided to disguise it with a small amount of performance.
Kyra decided to continue the Spellsong long enough to get off a Message spell as well, designating Gabrielle and Argos. "Did you catch that? I'm quite positive I heard someone in the crowd talk about an assassination attempt against the Grand Prince." She whispered to the woman, confident that their communication couldn't be intercepted now.
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She considers Kyra's whispers for a moment, finishing the last of her glass as she does.
Just then, Lady Gabrielle visibly reacts to a shift in the music. "What excellent taste! " she exclaims. "Kyra, we must participate. Though, from your reputation, I insist we take our places on opposite sides," she explains, referring to the layout of the floor and the dynamics of the upcoming dance. "We would not want to cast too much radiance on one corner. Instead, we shall divide and conquer, then regale each other with our experiences afterwards. The entirety of what we will see, feel, and hear will last an hour at least!"
She gestures towards the center with her fan, encouraging Kyra to come along.
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"An excellent suggestion, it is a good song. Now the key is to find the right man." Kyra nodded at her suggestion, immediately picked up on what Gabrielle was really implying and played right along with it. Of course, both would still be connected via her spell.
"Just remember, I'll be a whisper away, Argos I'll appreciate if you sit this one out and not scare anyone off hmm? Perhaps head over to the parlor and keep yourself busy. Don't give me that look! Maybe see if Lexarius is here?" Kyra said, turning her bodyguard around and sending him off to be useful. She quickly followed after Gabrielle and made her way onto the dance floor, at which point both girls separated to the respective sides of the room. Chatting up some of the patrons around her, she accepted a few invitations to dance and feigned interest while she looked around for anyone suspicious.
Argos could only give Kyra 'the look' at both girl's plan, even he wasn't stupid enough to not figure out what they were doing. "Very well milady, just don't get yourself into too much trouble." Argos nodded to both women and left them both to the ballroom while he doubled back to find one of Eutropia's ladies-in-waiting.
"Good evening, I was wondering if Captain Lexarius is on the premises? I'm his cousin Argos." Argos asked.
After Constantine and Lord Rook exchange a bit more small talk with Senator Karthis, one of the Princess’ Guardsmen approaches.“Apologies my lords, The Princess wishes for Lord Karthis to attend her immediately.”
Lord Karthis gives a knowing glance of an old man towards Rook senior, “My lords.” after he takes a bow he begins what looks like a slightly painful walk up a long row of stairs.
“Lady Gabrielle d’Apcher, I presume?” The shock of white hair is off putting at first, and does nothing to alleviate the awkward stare he is giving the young lady. ”It seems your mother would like me to ask; Might I have this dance?” He looks right into Gabrielle’s eyes unblinkingly awaiting a response. It’s difficult to tell, but he seems less than excited to be here.
”Iz zhat… no it could not be… Have my eyes found ze Lady Rubicon?” A familiar melodic voice rings from the crowd. The handsome, bronze skinned, young man approaches. ”Milady, may I have zhis drav-cosa? Ugh… How you say, Däncé?” Why can’t you remember him, and why do you know with certainty that he’s a noble?
Having walked into her throne room, Valignatir takes a deep bow before continuing. "Before we get to the important topics, your majesty, I would ask how your health is faring, and give us a little privacy." Valignatir casts Silent Table. The guards seem uneasy, but the Princess waves them to ease. "Now that that's done, my lady, I do have some rather important business to discuss." Val starts to pace back and forth, but always within the area of the spell.
"Milady, I have done some research into our...legal problem, as requested. It appears that, without the Senate's backing or coercion, you will have problems stepping up to the throne without risking a civil war, and I, above all else, do not want that to happen. So, we need to figure out a way to sway the Senate into changing the laws, or making an exception. I am confident that if we could get the Senate behind you, there wouldn't be any problems."
"My first thought was to just go ask them, but no... That is far too forward. If, however, a pack of 'Qadiran' assassins happened to visit misfortune on your father, we could likely sweep the support of the senate with an 'emergency power' clause, and most of the nobility, along with the military, would not question it too much. This nation craves a war with Qadira, and I think it might be time for us to give the people what they want." He pauses momentarily to let his thoughts catch up to his words.
"Of course, I would be honored to publicly offer my support of this campaign and its leaders, along with as many of House Jeggare's resources and troops as I can manage."
"Here, please, have this.”He hands a scroll to one of the servants. “I know it is a difficult proposition, and I know Her Majesty will need time to ponder it. That is a scroll of Sending. When you have decided, you may use it to contact me, and I will arrive at this villa within the day. We can meet here, and discuss the real details, without a crowded ballroom waiting to overhear what we are discussing." He takes another deep bow before speaking again.
"Oh, I nearly forgot! I will have to invite Lord Karthis over, to get his opinions on a war with Qadira… Whether he believes we are ready, what preparations would need to be made, and if the senate would back us. Am I correct in guessing that he can be trusted with this?"
Princess Eutropia listens intently as Valignatir speaks. Then she turns to one of her guards. "Pierre, go tell Lord Karthis I require his presence immediately.”
As she turns her attention back to Valignatir, she seems unsettled by the what has been proposed. "As much as I need to secure my place on the throne for the honor of the Stavian Dynasty, and this country, I do not wish any ill intent to befall my father in the slightest. Though I do see the need for some provision in our laws for an emergency power to be placed in the event of the Emperor’s demise..."
Her guard returns shortly, and whispers something in her ear. "We do have a fifty-fifty split of the Senate at this point in time, I'm sure with a the added weight of Jeggare gold in a few pockets, it wouldn't be difficult to find the needed two-thirds to see reason in this emergency provision. As a note though, it is still treason for any Taldan to be caught considering the Kings downfall. I would caution you to watch your words more carefully in these matters. As a point, though, a Chelaxian would be almost required to consider such an event in their country so as to prevent such a tragedy..." She trails off suggestively as Lord Karthis makes his way to the Top of the balcony.
"Lord-Senator Karthis, at Her Majesty’s request." he says slightly winded from walking the stairs all the way from the ballroom floor.
"Senator! We were just discussing possible needs for a potential campaign against Qadira. The Ambassador has told me that the Jeggare house would be happy to assist in funding a force for your endeavor. Though, I fear that gearing up our phalanx to the east might have negative consequences for our Lord Emperor...” She eyes the Senator for a moment. Feel free to speak candidly, the Ambassador has secluded us with his magic for the time."
Lord Karthis, a man in his early 50s, looks quiet contemplative before responding with purpose in his words. "A war with Qadira would put pressure on the Lords Rook. It might be wise to consider what they would have to put forward to defend their lands, and how far we would really want to push the Keleshites back. I've already discussed lightly the possibility of getting a higher level of weapon technology with Lord Rook, but I'm not sure he thinks I'll take his jesting advice all that seriously… Jeggare money would certainly make that a better possibility."
Valignatir, in his concentration has stopped pacing. "Ah, the Rooks; quite the noble family. I have actually met the younger Constantine, and I will bring the topic up in conversation if the chance presents itself. I am not a strategic man of war, but I trust you, Senator, and the Rooks to be able to handle this matter quite effectively." He then noticeably changes his train of thought. "As for advanced weaponry, did you mean the thunderous firearms of Numeria and Alkenstar? If so, I will bring up some of my contacts there, and see what I can do about securing the weaponry, if needed. What kind of scale in terms of quantity are we speaking of?"
The Senator replies without much thought ”Ten… Maybe Twenty thousand… It might be more prosperous to pay them to teach our smiths to make the weapons for ourselves. This would definitely put our soldiers ahead of anything the Qadirans could throw at our troops. I also hear they aren’t that difficult to learn to use either.”
The princess puts her hand up to interrupt the conversation for a moment. "Perhaps we should call a meeting soon to discuss all the considerations we must make for such an undertaking. Certainly, there would need to be propaganda to make the idea of war more palatable. Perhaps the story of the Grey Dame saving the Princess from evil Qadiran monsters... Then there is the matter of funding, expedition forces, and a strategist to design an infallible attack against the Keleshites...She begins to contemplate ”Lord Valignatir, as well as the other tasks you have ahead of you, would you be willing to find a group of Nobles to put on one of the greatest productions in the New Taldan Empire?" She finishes with a grin and a twinkle in her eye. Clearly she's in her element when plotting... It’s almost unnerving to see one with such a reputation for naivety plan like the best of the Chelish Lords.
Valignatir recognizes the glint in her eyes as a look that he himself has held many times. The look almost had him wondering whether she was actually Taldan. "Your Majesty, did you mean for me to fund a play? Because there are two specific Ladies, actually in attendance tonight, that I can certainly attempt to recruit to put on a majestic opera fit for the grandeur of both of our visions for Taldor."
”Indeed, Lord Ambassador.” She sits back in her throne. ”Please plan on hosting a meeting with all the chosen individuals at the end of the next fortnight. Lord Karthis, I assume you will also be in attendance?”
The Senator bows graciously, ”By Your Majesty’s will.”
”Good… You are both dismissed. The princess stands and walks to the dais of her balcony.
”Shouldn’t the Grey Wench be dragging her knuckles back to Lastwall to kill more monsters?” As Nev turns around to see who’s being so rude, she’s shocked to see its Lord Commander Triamond Eiredor. ”What? You expect me to be a gentlemen to you because you’re a ‘Lay-dee’? Sweetheart, you’ve seen more than most of these pretentious c*nts ever will, so why should I dishonor you by keeping up a facade?.”
Nev's anger is burning in the back of her throat as she turns to see the man behind her, and once she does, her zeal deserts her. She knows that she looks startled, her mouth gaping in a decidedly unattractive way. And suddenly she feels entirely foolish in her absurd disaster of a dress. She was not meant for parties, she was not meant for the life of a noble, and she most certainly was not meant to be speaking to the Lord Commander on the Princes' Terrace, surrounded by pixies, in something not too far off from a nightshirt.
She makes a grab at Thorn before he can say anything to make matters worse, and is gleefully pleased as she manages to knock him into her skirts just as she hears the murmurs of foul words come from his little mouth. She gathers herself, attempting to stand tall and confident in front of him, and gives him a proper Knightly bow.
"Lord Commander Eiredor, I suppose it was silly of me to not anticipate seeing you here this evening. As it is, I am decidedly not anyone's idea of a proper lady, and I do not expect anything from the Lord Commander, let alone false courtesy. I believe I shall take your coarse words as a compliment, regardless of their intention." She says, with as much fervor and confidence behind her words as she can muster.
"Take my words however you like, I didn't ask if they'd be pleasant to your ears." He looks like he's at wits end with the night. "I assumed you were used to the foul mouths of men away from home anyhow... Why are you here? We both know you belong mounting a thick beast. You hate this fake sh*t as much as I do."
"I am quite accustomed to the foul mouths of men in battle, or near to it. I am not accustomed to it here, where everyone is so utterly concerned with what they say, how they say it, how it's taken. I suppose it might be refreshing under certain circumstances. And I am here at the request of the Princess. I do believe that you are aware that I am, in fact, her lap dog." She says the last with a bit of a bite, if he was going to insult her all night, she might as well join in on the fun. To say that she was confused was a drastic understatement. I have no idea what I have done to garner his interest, and apparent ire... Nor do I have any idea as to the best course of action here... If I thought I could win I might challenge him to a duel... That, at least, I can understand. That is my language...
"Ah, Opilio Damasus...what wasn't expecting I knew you?" Kyra turned to Opilio, a smug sort of smile on her face. "My dear, even if my brother Lexarius hadn't mentioned you to me off hand you would have to be hopelessly obscure to escape my knowledge. But yes, I think I would enjoy this dance with you more than I would most here." Kyra smiled, holding her hand out to let Opilio lead her out to the dance floor.
"See the Princess? I wonder what she's talking about with the Chelaxian Ambassador." As the two walked out onto the dance floor, she began using Spellsong again, dancing masterfully as she cast Acute Senses upon herself. The usefulness of not needing to prepare spells once again her saving grace as she listened in on their conversation.
She could practically even hear Eutropia's heartbeat with how sensitive her ears were - though she was careful not to let the magic overwhelm her with the music. As the dance moved on, she scowled when she saw Senator Karthis join them, and her mood worsened to hear where their topic shifted. War...with Qadira no less, was the Princess more foolish than she though? Desperate perhaps, to get the Senate on her side. "Oh my, was I frowning? I think I just heard the most dreadful thing and it put me out of sorts." Kyra said to Opilio, suddenly realizing she might be looking quite off to her partner.
"Not-to-worry, Jamael... It seems ev-ery-body in thez country's court is preoccupied with greata-mattas." Even as her attention to the dance begins to fade, Opilio manages to twirl Lady Kyra around the ballroom with the grace of a flower petal on the wind. "Your people fret too much over ze smallest of mattas. Who iz in whose bedchambers; Why ze lady zey call 'Grey' decides to wear a dress made of metal. Who cares? Maybe you should just kiss ze man if front of you, because you can."
"Besides all zhat, Uncle checked him out... It's one of ze reasons I'm here, to keep an eye on him"
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She could hardly believe her eyes. Lady Gabrielle had eagerly read every novel she could of the adventures of the Shadowed Hunter of Ustalav. And though she had expected someone a bit more romanticized, it was a treat for her regardless.
"My lord Durahan," she replies with an elegant curtsey, "I would be honored." She then slips her fan through a small cloth pocket of her gown sized just for it. "If you were to regale me with your favorite tale of adventure told from the person, I would be quite thrilled as well," she adds, offering her hand and hoping he would be comforted.
, take higher
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Kyra was actually taken aback at the skill of her Dance partner, it wasn't often she got to cut loose and really strut her stuff so to speak with someone capable of keeping up with her. And she found herself actually getting into the mood as it were. "Why, what frighteningly simple advice; yet one finds they can't bring it in themselves to 'not care' when they're playing the game of thrones. Still, I haven't had quite so much fun in a good while - you're better than you let on." Kyra winked, leaning in for a kiss, nothing too committed yet better than a short peck, then leaned her head over his shoulder. She couldn't be too carefree with the stares they were likely attracting.
"It's a good thing you've got an eye on him, I think we should all be worried if Chelaxian gold were funding a folly down south..." Kyra whispered ominously as she leaned back.
Valignatir slowly descends the stairs, looking down into the throng of nobles to see if anyone seemed to have heard his conversation.
Having reached the bottom, Val heads back over to the Chelaxian wine, and picks himself up another.
"Lord Rook, is is not?" he says upon seeing the older man.
"I don't believe we've officially met, although I guess you already know me. I'm Ambassador Jeggare, from Cheliax."
He offers his hand out to shake, putting a smile on.
Constantine gives a devilish grin at his words, arching an eyebrow. ”Her majesty’s ambition is nothing less than extraordinary. It’s quite unusual for a woman to seek the throne.” Glancing around the room, he shakes his head slightly. ”She always seemed to have a mind for grand ideas however. What would House Eiredor say to such a rise in station from our dear princess?”
Incredibly pleased to be chosen as a dance partner by Eutropia, Constantine smiles pleasantly at her. He swirls her onto the dance floor, keeping to the music and moving swiftly. He is far from a professional dancer, but skilled enough in noble etiquette to be skilled at many things. Hhe pulls her close as she speaks of his return and the Blackspears. ”Your Majesty, my broher always had the greatest faith in your goals. His sudden death maks me wish to support those same ideals in his stead. No contract with the Blackspears will ever stand between Taldor and glory.”
”Hah! You would expect at least a few of my siblings to be here seeking someone’s approval. Unless others have scampered offf to the far corrners as I had.” Constantine glances around, frowning mockingly at the crowd and tsking at the lack of Rook participation.
”My dear brother is enamored with his role as eldest and forgets the excitement ourt parties bring. It would be so pleasing to infuriate him with a my own lands. I will have to seek glory and gold should my Company’s services be needed in the Souther border.”
Bowing to Lord Karthis as he departs, Constantine whirls on his father, a smile hiding the faint worry behind his eyes. [smaller]”Surely something such as that would be able to be picked up. A mind blank spell might be blocking him..I will keep my ears open for anything. It is concerning and I hope does not deal with our young majesty.”
The approach of the Chelaxian ambassador sours the smile on Constantine's face. "Ah, our dear friend from Cheliax. How do the torture and maiming go these days?"
"Well, now, you haven't been that out of touch... have you? Your oldest brother Bellarius rarely leaves the country, and he wouldn't let his kids go without him; Hestia is off evangelizing in Andoran, the twins are fighting in some Garundi war, and Kent hasn't left the monastery in years."
And, at Valignatir's approach, he shifts his drink to his right hand, leaving the ambassador awkwardly shaking a metal hook (and seeing if this amuses his son). "Ah, Ambassador," he responds smiling, "And naturally you've heard of me as well. Don't worry—I make a point to learn the face of every devil summoner who's set foot in this city. Are you looking for something? I generally don't bring books to this sort of party."
Valignatir grimaces at Constantine's greeting.
"And how is fighting for coin, not your country, Constantine? Besides, that's not even my style. Have you been to Nidal? Very interesting place."
Turning to Lord Rook, his lips curl into a wide smile.
"Ah, Lord Rook, you recognize my talents. Now, could we keep this somewhat civil, gentlemen?"
"And, no, I'm not looking for anything. What makes you think that?"
Thorn shrieked as he tumbled down into the folds of Nev's dress, cursing at her now, instead of the imbecile of a man. He rolled onto the terrace, his robes dusty and in disarray. The pain in his wing let him know that it was bent, and he grumbled as he walked towards the parlor. A shrill whistle came from his lips and the other pixies scattered. Nev apparently thought she could take care of this on her own, and so he would leave her alone.
He made the slow, arduous walk through the dancing nobles, dodging feet and flying fabric. He reached the parlor where a few nobles were gathered, including the bloody Chelaxian. He climbed the table cloth and found some food and a glass of wine to drink. He was certain that he looked ridiculous, leaning the large glass over so that he could sip from it. He sat on the edge it the table, his wing bent, his robes dirty and slightly torn, looking dejected. "That woman is going to get herself killed." He mumbled to himself, while glaring in Val's direction.
"No need to get testy, Ambassador—I assume my son was merely referring to your country as a whole, something that... I hope... you have decent firsthand knowledge of."
"And when you get to be my age, nobody talks to you at parties unless they're looking for something... although sometimes all they're looking for is a well-crafted insult."
"So, he meant to insult my entire homeland? That is not wise...."
"But no matter. I am willing to let this pass without incident, if he is. As for my reason for talking to you, I just recognized you as the wizened sided I have heard so much about, as I just had to meet you in person. Had I known your son held such ideas about my nation, I might have had second thoughts."
"All of Taldor holds those ideas, and many hold worse ones. The concept of worshipping—let alone emulating—Hell itself is unthinkable here, and you will find many who resent House Thrune or your whole government for its persecution of former Taldan citizens peacefully worshipping our gods."
"The fact that you haven't heard this much simply means that most of those you've met here are more afraid of you than my son here, who fears far less than he should. If you wish to understand this city or our nation, learn to listen without making an entrance—that is my 'wizened old' advice."
"I am not so naive as to not see Taldor's attitude towards me. Believe me, I know how you react. I am no stranger to discrimination and hatred."
"Nonetheless, I understand and appreciate your advice, there is quite a difference between being resentful of my government, and outright accusing me of torturing and maiming people in my spare time."
"But enough talk of Cheliax and Thrune. How fares House Rook?"
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Smirking at Valignatir's riposte, Constantine almost seems to like the man even more. "Very lucrative! I hope to serve only the highest paying Taldane nobles. Its interesting you confess to so little preference for such disgusting habits. I would have thought Cheliax's strict laws would lend favoritism toward more...untoward practices in regard to prisoners--most of whom have committed no more crime than to seek freedom or worship an arch-devil. I suppose they've learned to pick their ambassadors better. I do hope you keep your corrupt ideas of proper governance to yourself, however. Little good comes from the shores of your nation, except perhaps the martial talents of your hellknights. Some, at least, deserve respect for that--although not their determination to emulate the very bowels of depravity in Hell."
At mention of his fearlessness, even in the face of absurdity, Constantine lets out a laugh. "Fear is something that is best in small doses and restrained for those situations that lead to marring this beautiful face, father!"
Returning his attention to Valignatir, he walks slowly around the cleric, eyeing him up and down in a blatantly rude manner. "You are correct in that you have done little to earn any direct resentment. Beyond your religion...and your position...and your beliefs. I do not see Cheliax as seeing much benefit to a strong Taldor. And that, Valignatir, is something that causes much strain upon seeing your pale face."
The ambassador's much more diplomatic tongue turns the issue aside and directly tries to change the topic. The combative Rook frowns slightly, shrugging, not attempting to pursue the topic although seeming a bit disappointed his fencing partner was willing to turn his back on the matter. "Our House is, as always, strong."
"Careful, son," Lord Rook replies, smirking, "Knowing you, this is starting to sound like flirting—and you know how scandalized your poor departed mother would feel about such a match."
"As you say, Ambassador. Cheliax's centralized legal system is not without promise, but many of its laws, like many of our own, are dangerously capricious in their intent, enforcement, and effect."
"As for House Rook—the chickens are quiet, river traffic is calm. In times like this, even my eldest son could run the family estates by himself, which is why I'm here in the capital. 'Patience is our sword,' and all that, you know. It's been over five years since the last time someone tried to kill me—maybe they're learning—which, from what I hear, is more than can be said for yourself."
The look Constantine gives his father is fully scandalous and unabashed. "Politics and nations are one thing, but he does have a clever tongue, Father. And I've heard...intriguing things about Chelaxian nobles and bedrooms."
"No, I am much more civilized than those who use such courses of action regularly. I am, however, versed in the art of interrogation, and can perform the acts required."
Valignatir says this last part without any trace of bragging; instead, he seems to be remembering some event that happened in the past, as his eyes seem to move past his conversation partners.
Coming back to the present, Val smiles again.
"Well, I hope I never earn your resentment, for that is not what I am out to do. As for my particular ideals on government, I will try to keep my influence to a minimum. Although, all of us can admit that Taldor could benefit from some order. Whether that is of the Cheliax brand is up to its citizens, I suppose."
"I am most glad to hear that all is well with you. As for attempts on my life, perhaps now is not the time nor the place to discuss that. Let's save that for the less joyous times, shall we?"
Turning to face Constantine again, he smirks along with Lord Rook.
"Well, dear Constantine, if the courts of Cheliax and Taldor combined have taught me anything, it's that you should always be willing to try anything once. And this is no exception."
"I'd... rather hear nothing more about tongues," Lord Rook replies, shaking his head. "In any case, what you'll find in the capital is largely the same as what you'll find in the rest of Taldor: boredom, decadence, self-censorship and plenty of laws, with just the wrong ones enforced. Oh, things were a bit more vibrant once, but you never realize how much you'll miss your enemies until they all start dropping dead of old age, and Constantine here can attest to just how much spine the younger generation is showing."
"So why are you here, then? If you wanted to preach the morality of Cheliax, you'd do better in Varisia or Isger. Maybe Absalom or Thuvia if you wanted a challenge. In Taldor, the people who will listen to you the most are the people with the least influence, though most of them would side with Andoran over Cheliax in a heartbeat. And you seem far too ostentatious to be a spy, especially if you carry the Princess's favor. If you're looking for a far-from-home experience, our country will prove thoroughly disappointing; Taldor is the land where Casmaron comes to die. I can probably send my nephew out for a bottle of something Vudran, though, if you want to try rice wine that's been blessed by a thousand gods beyond your own."
"Well, while I'd like to keep my personal business my own, as the 'Ambassador' title suggests, I am here on official business, so to speak."
"Four months ago, the attack on my life within a few weeks of my arrival did unsettle me, and I did not act as I should. I do regret that, and hope that I can improve relations between Taldor and me and my homeland. That is the point, anyway."
"That sounds very intriguing, Lord Rook. I'd love to try said rice wine. I have never been to Vudran, as much as I want."
At the end of Lord Rook's table, the perceptive might notice a moving wine glass, one that tilts every so often and returns to an upright position, the wine level slightly lower each time. After a time, when Lord Rook reaches to his plate for another morsel of food, he comes up empty handed.
"Hmm, that will do. Most Taldans aren't willing to try anything grown East of what they had the foresight to call the 'World's End.' Maybe we can all have some fun then."
"Janus!" he calls out, and a few seconds later the tall Garundi man emerges from the dance floor. "Send out for a bottle of Vudrani Sonti. And... let's say, a cask of something Tien and pickled."
Janus nods, and heads outside to pass a few words on to his driver. "Of course," Lord Rook mentions to Valignatir and Constantine, with a wink, "Neither he nor I nor any of the servants can read a word of Vudrani, so we'll see what Mister Danuell brings back from the mansion."
You're not exactly sure what Lord Rook just sent out for, but knowing his typical behavior (or reading his body language), you're pretty sure it's going to be extremely strong, incredibly bitter, and possibly involve fish eyeballs.
And then, realizing his food is going missing, he casts Detect Invisibility—and stares straight into the Pixie's eyes, saying nothing.
Thorn, suddenly feeling as if someone was staring at him, looks up into the face of Old Man Rook. He smiles awkwardly.
An arched brow and a snort welcome Val's response. "Perhaps you are more interesting than the dreary nation you stem from."
He turns to his father, reaching for a peculiarly emptied glass of wine. He doesn't bother to cast a spell, simply frowns down at it and places it back down--assuming something untoward may have occurred. As nefarious as a noble or servant stealing his drink, perhaps.
"My dear father prefers food as pickled as his own liver." Constantine responds dryly, glancing over at Lord Rook. "However, that may be a family legacy. I met this wonderful Tien woman in Mendev who made the most delicious food. Almost as delicious as the Thuvian delicacies my Vicarius, Anka, serves up during the times I spend on the lands you've graciously allowed me to build upon."
The smirk doesn't leave Val's face.
"Perhaps so."
"While I am not much of a drinker, it tends to dull your senses, I can understand why a man would be. Food, however, is a completely different story. In my travels as an ambassador, I have tasted many a tastes, ranging from the spiced meat of my homeland to the flavorful delicacies of Varisia to the darkened desserts of Nidal."
"I haven't actually had much chance to taste the best food of Taldor, as I haven't had anyone to show me the best. Perhaps you could show me around the food scene, Constantine?"
After about fifteen minutes, Doctor Janus returns carrying a thick glass bottle under one arm and a very small jar under the other; a tufted monkey, sitting on his shoulder, carries a stack of small wooden cups. The monkey leaps down onto the table and Lord Rook takes six cups from him, placing one in front of himself, Constantine, Valignatir, Janus, the still-invisible Thorn, and the monkey; prying open the bottle's metal latch, he pours six cups, stopping to let Valignatir decide if he'd prefer a glass he's already tested.
"This is Sonti," he remarks theatrically, "Made from rice, steamed and fermented, on the far side of the world. They brew similar stuff on the Minkai peninsula, but not quite as potent; this carries twice as much alcohol as a mediocre Andoran wine. You'll rarely hear about it west of Casmaron, because the merchants of Tian Xia like to think they have a monopoly on Eastern oddities, but you can find most things Vudran trading with merchants out of Jalmeray—and, unfortunately, there's a good chance this was bottled on that island as well, barely more exotic than the rest of the Inner Sea. The label's certainly smudged enough that I'd have trouble reading it even if I spoke the language."
And then he takes the jar, and places it on the table.
This jar bears a stenciled label of much clearer letters. It reads, "Demon Tears, or Fire Pearls, Made with Enchanted and Preserved Dragon Peppers."
As Lord Rook unscrews the lid, the jar bubbles and hisses; with a spoon, he scoops out a few small red objects, which vent small amounts of steam as he places them on the plate in front of him, before putting back the lid. "Now these, I can vouch, are properly Tien—Dragon Pearls, they're called, enchanted to stay warm all the way to your stomach. I'm getting a bit full, but feel free to try one."
And with that, he cuts himself a small, wibbly red bit, and swallows it with a bit of the rice wine.
Whatever Lord Rook just ate, he's trying very, very hard not to make a face, and very nearly succeeding
The object you've just put in your mouth is, by far, the spiciest thing you've ever tasted (except for Constantine, who's likely been subject to something like this before, and possibly the long-lived Thorn)—it's an infamous Tian Xia Dragon Pepper, marinated in some sort of alcoholic brine. The degree to which this affects your actions may vary, though Lord Rook clearly put effort into swallowing a piece of one without flinching.
The rice wine is less harsh, though made from clearly-burnt rice, making it extremely bitter on top of the alcohol.
"Go ahead, Lord Rook. I trust you."
While his lips say trust, his actions do not, as he waits to drink until everyone else has taken their first taste.
"Mind if I see the label? I have some knowledge about languages, perhaps I could decipher it."
"Demon Tears? How ironic. Dragon Peppers? Interesting. I did say I'd try anything once, and I won't back down from this."
He takes a piece of the dragon pearl, and follows Lord Rooks' example, drinking the wine with the piece.
"Oh, wow. Reminds me of home! We have spiced stuff like this in Egorian, although not quite as hot."
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"Genevieve," Lady Gabrielle says after just slipping away to find her friend. "I do not see any provoking conversation or interesting gentlemen out here. Might I convince you to join me inside?" she asks.
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Thorn is surprised and pleased to see that a cup is placed in front of him, and smiles up at Lord Rook. He gestures curiously at the Dragon Pearl and tilts the wooden cup to drink from it. He wonders if the others question the extra glass, and if they are perceptive enough to notice the liquid level that slowly drops. As he continues to drink the bitter Sonti, he feels himself relax as his wings droop and he plops to sit on the table. He feels his bent wing brush against one of his long ears and relaxes as the burning liquor does it's work.
As responsible for the night's security, it was Lexarius' job to keep an eye out to make sure the grounds were secure. Most of his retinue was present and had formed the bulk of the perimeter security. He'd left some of his betters at the Princess' side while he made his rounds. Of course that meant he was one of the few nobles here not dressed for a party, prefering his plate armor instead.
As he passed by the Terrace, he couldn't help but overhear an argument brewing between the only two people who hadn't moved into the ballroom. He immediately recognized both, the unmistakable Lord Commander of the Taldan Horse, and the ever popular Dame Atropa who was all everyone could talk about lately.
"Excuse me Lord Commander, is there a problem here?" Lex asked pointedly, moving towards the pair. "Harassment of her Majesty's guests won't be tolerated, so I must ask you to desist or I will be forced to have you escorted from the party."
"Genevieve," Lady Gabrielle says after just slipping away to find her friend. "I do not see any provoking conversation or interesting gentlemen out here. Might I convince you to join me inside?" she asks.
Nev turns to see Gabrielle, a look of mild concern as well as annoyance plastered on her face. "Certainly there is no provoking conversation or interesting gentlemen now, but I can say that tonight has been far from dull!" She says in a huff.