"Alas, I've not yet seen fit to travel outside Taldor, my lord. Perhaps one day, when there is nothing left to be done within our borders, but for now, my goddess Iomedae wishes for justice, and there is a dearth of such within our nation."
She pauses as Rose approaches, and then frowns at her light raillery; something about her quip clearly strikes the paladin wrong, and so she waits until her companion departs before resuming her line of conversation, her tone now more business-like and professional.
"I won't take up much more of your time, Lord Centimus, but if I may be blunt, as at times all travelers must be: may I ask where your own inclinations lie when it comes to matters of primogeniture, and the upcoming vote?"
Inwardly she curses the clumsiness of her question, but Rose has left her off-kilter and with no more patience for games.
As the others move off to their respective missions Marius lingers until Lady Lotheed glances back at him. "I hope that Rose is mistaken, but Pythareus is a military man and the sword is the tool closest to his hand. I won't presume to speak for the others, bu whatever happens, know that I am with you and the Princess. I suspect they feel the same. With your leave, my lady." Marius bows and moves off back into the gala.
Heading towards the hors d'oeuvre table to fill a small plate, the nobleman pushes thoughts of Pythareus' schemes to the back of his mind and focuses on finding a likely target for Lotti's ire.
Viscountess Nicodemus bemusedly accepts the books handed to her, and Lotti can just hear her companion start tearing into Lord Heubret for this "heartless, despicable prank" before she makes herself scarce.
In the courtyard, with some clever positioning as she reads the fortune of a breathless young debutante, she can overhear a couple of aides speculating about Lady Gloriana Morilla and how she seems to hold herself apart from her fellow nobles. "But I hear that if you have the right connections she might be better disposed towards you. Mind you, she's very selective in who she calls a friend, she has some haughty ideas about how aristocracy should behave."
Marquess Deschamps doesn't demure at Rose's compliments and simply acknowledges them with a small smile. "I am honoured by the praise of a connoisseur, Lady Talbot. It was a pleasure to meet you." Although the latter is usually a staid platitude that everyone utters, from her it sounds utterly sincere, and somehow significant. Rose walks away with the feeling that she has made a friend. At her words of warning, Lady Morilla nods slowly, although somewhat puzzled.
In the Archives, Duke Centimus seems indeed more relaxed and happy than his usual self, taking the message without question and nodding his thanks to Rose.
He then turns to continue his conversation with the paladin, giving her question serious consideration. "I see that we share a sense of responsibility for our country, Lady Mokei." He nods, as if to himself, then seems lost in thought for a few moments before abruptly raising his head to look Konstiantina in the eye. "I usually keep my cards close to the chest, as it were, but I think you and I are of the same mind, so I will tell you that I believe that any person who is capable of ruling should have the opportunity to do so, regardless of the condition of his, or her, body." He drops his head towards his own legs, covered by a thin, delicately knitted blanket. "I know what many think and say of me, that my condition makes me less capable as a leader and administrator." He snorts. "That is, of course, rubbish. So if I, a cripple, can still be in a position to serve my country, why should a woman not have the same freedom? Especially one as smart and as capable as the Princess." His gaze softens and drifts to the side as his voice drops a little. "You know, I feel somewhat connected to her, by more than the disdain of some of our peers. Her brother and I, we both had riding accidents, but I survived... It is strange to think, should Prince Carrius still be alive none of this would happen, we would still follow the same path set for us by our forbearers. There would be no talk of abolishing millennia-old laws, or the rights of women." He sighs, rubbing his face with one hand. "I am sorry that he died, of course, he was a sweet kid, but - if I am to be perfectly blunt here - more good might come of that than if he hadn't." Count Zespire looks slightly horrified at this, glancing around to see if anyone might overhear, and Duke Centimus seems to come out of his stream-of-consciousness musings with a rueful shake of his head. "Pardon me, Lady Mokei, I didn't intend to get so dark there. What can I say, people are complicated and messy creatures." He gives her a weak smile, but does not seem inclined to continue the discussion.
As Marius walks away from Lady Lotheed, he almost trips on a walking stick leaning against a fine leather armchair. The owner of the cane, a small man in his early thirties, apologizes profusely and pulls the jeweled implement closer before continuing his conversation with his companions, who all seem to be foreign delegates. "As I was saying, losing both my parents at such an early age was devastating, but I believe the newfound responsibility strengthened me. Guiding our trading companies to greater heights has been very rewarding - hah hah, if I may make that little joke - as it allowed me to carry on my father's legacy in the service of our great country. Our economy is stronger than ever, and I am happy to have the opportunity to play a small part in that. And while I hear your concerns regarding the political situation here, I can assure you that this is only a temporary ripple that will very soon subside and things will go back to how they always were. After all, continuity and stability are in our best interests as merchants."
Tickled by her patroness's approval, Mirann happily skips through the Courtyard, dancing to the ambient music of her surroundings and floating down from the Gallery above. She stops before the Landgrave Ogvai Jarlbjorn, moving idly for a time before realizing not exactly who she stands before, but his status. Caught off guard, she pauses, collects herself, and approaches.
"Good evening, sir," she says with a bow of her head, "I am Mirann Zalar, a dancer from the Kith, and ward to the Marquess Charlotte Deschamps. I hope my dancing did not disturb you nor interrupt any of your business."
After a brief exchange with the Senator, she returns to the Gallery and to Wyssilka once more, feeling emboldened.
She moves with professionalism and fluidity, knowing more what to expect from the halfling. After the dance she thanks Wyssilka genuinely, adding, "I had a fantasti- no, a fantabulous time dancing with you!"
Rose, somewhat confused at Konstiantina's rather rigid reaction over the compliment and at most lightly playful wordplay, decides to withdraw from the conversation, lingering in the library until Lord Centimus starts a long monologue directed at the paladin.
Figuring her 'companion' had the man eating out of her hand anyway, she instead directs her attention to the momentarily forgotten Count Zespire. "Dear Uncle thrice removed, would you walk with me for a moment?" she asks him softly, leaving the other two to their conversation.
"Am I betraying the mission by doing this? What if I misread things and he backs Pythareus? Is it too soon? How far should I reveal my involvement? But the man is a hero, one of our most experienced leaders. And family. If this does come to bloodshed, we need him as a commander. He *has* to survive!"
She walks to the most secluded place she can find either inside the Libary or back in the hall, then faces her uncle with determination. "Uncle, we don't have much time. There's something important you must know right away. Our group of friends that recently ended the pirate threat in Ridonport overheard Pythareus speaking to a confidant just now. He heavily implied that he will attack the Senate either during or after the vote, presumably to seize power for himself. This information came from an honorable soldier I couldn't imagine lying under any circumstance, even to safe his life."
She nods solemnly. "I hope they are wrong. But if they aren't, it will be a a suprise attack on an enclosed space on mostly unarmored targets with no exits. As a military leader, I'm sure you can predict the chaos of it better than myself. While there's magic, I was informed he sounded very confident about his 'plan', whatever that may be. I am not telling you this to persuade you either way in the vote, but because I believe the country needs a hero like you to survive if the worst does happen. Please, if you can, make some covert preparations for your survival in such a scenario. And please attempt to keep him from learning we know of this! The more time we have to prepare, the better, I believe."
Nodding to himself as he mentally notes his impressions of Earl Merkondus, Marius moves on. Making a round of the room he exchanges pleasantries with various minor nobles or their hangers-on, maneuvering himself a bit closer to Earl Gahez Varima--an unknown quantity to him entirely. Though the gods know there's more than enough nobles in Taldor for anyone to keep track of.
Once he feels he has a better handle on the Earl's disposition Marius steps closer, awaiting the opportunity to make an introduction.
"Earl Varima? A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I'm Marius Erallan, of Ridonport. "
The Landgrave is at the improvised zoo, face pressed closed to the bars of a cage that is currently holding a cockatrice. "Couldn't even get a linnorm. Ha! At least a little one..." As Mirann steps and twirls around him, he puts out a hand to prevent her from coming too close to the cages. "Careful, little one, some of these are dangerous." He has a thick Skald accent, with sibilant ss and rolled rs. "Good ef'ning, Mirann, I am Ogvai, Ogvai Jarlbjorn. I do not mind dancing at all, although the kind I am used to has a lot more jumping, hah! And the music has a lot more drums. But vat you do is not bad either. Just mind you don't stray too close to these beasts!" He completely glosses over the fact that he is standing right next to the cage of likely the most dangerous creature there.
Back in the Gallery, the dancer puts on another entrancing performance together with the halfling, which has the audience applauding with vigour and requesting an encore. Wyssilka bows to Mirann, replying in a sweet voice. "You honour me by sharing your skill with me. You seem to know my name, may I know yours?" As they converse, a noblewoman in a ridiculously gauche gown and extravagant jewelry approaches at a lazy pace, affecting disinterest. "My, that is not the usual kind of performance you see at these events, now is it? I suppose someone took my advice and added some spice to these performances..." Her gaze passes Wyssilka over entirely to fix on Mirann.
Meanwhile, Rose maneuvers Count Zespire between two tall bookcases, relating her suspicions to him. He reacts with shock, then shakes his head. "No, he wouldn't. Pythareus attacking the senate... no." He raises a hand to forestall further assurances or protestations. "I don't know what your friend thought he heard, but the High Strategos is in service of Taldor, like I am. And even if he countenanced such unthinkable act, he would not be so foolish as to speak of it in public!" He takes a deep breath, composing himself, then regards Rose for a moment before nodding. "But, it is good to be cautious. I will keep in mind what you said."
In the Gallery, Marius engages the young Earl in conversation, catching an earlier discussion that Varima is having about maintaining cordial relationships with other nations.
As Marius converses with Earl Varima, he glances over the fellow's shoulder to spot a tall, muscular noblewoman elbowing her way through the crowd on the other side of the Gallery, three dandies trotting after her like remoras in the wake of a shark. Rose, in the process of delivering Lady Morilla's message to Martella, also notices this, at the same time that Martella hisses to her, "There she is! Malphene Trant! Oh, she's making a beeline for poor Amadorian." Glancing over, Rose recognizes the bespectacled young senator to whom she had handed another message earlier.
Mirann shakes the halfling's little hand, introducing herself. "You're quite the performer yourself; where did you train? I did my studies at the Kith."
When Pace intervenes, she curtsies and pretends to agree with the noble, not seeing the harm in a bit of sarcasm. "Yes, milady, my patron takes a very keen ear to your opinions; a woman so evidently on the fashion forefront of our time is a woman to keep your eye on, says she."
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Wyssilka fades into the background as the countess interrupts their conversation, while Abrielle Pace seems to swallow the insincere compliment whole, giving Mirann a radiant smile. "It sounds like your patron is a woman of excellent taste, then. Not everyone can pull off the kind of daring sartorial statements I make, my dear. And she is also wise to listen to my opinions, for I have a very keen sense for where the wind is blowing, if you get my meaning." She taps the side of her nose with a meaningful look. "And right now, it seems to be carrying the Lioness on its wings, isn't that right? What a glorious moment for us women, to finally have the opportunities we deserve."
Knowing she lacks the needed information on nobles and their concerns to do more than annoy the Lady Morilla, Lotti files away the gossip and heads back to the archive for more "vibe checks".
Feeling optimistic, the gnome takes a gamble and approaches a pair of nobles conversing between two bookshelves. "Do you wish to learn your fortune, Your Grace?" she asks the Grand Duke Avernathus. "The fates have many things in store for each of us, if only we have the skill - or wisdom - to discover it."
"And you, Viscountess?" Lotti keeps a carefully neutral expression on her face as she turns to Octavia. She might not be able to see very well, but the "seer" hoped the effort would bleed over into keeping her voice from betraying her. "As you well know, sight beyond sight is both a talent and an art."
Lotti amasses an impresive collection of tomes and treatises around herself, presiding over the pile with mysterious dignity and poise. As she does so, a group enters the library - three nobles led by a Senate guard that seems to be acting as a guide as she points to various places in the room while offering a running commentary in a low voice. As they near Lotti's space, the gnome can hear "...most recent, as the current structure is built atop the ruins of several older senate constructions." As the nobles' attention starts to drift, the guide lowers her voice even more, with an air of conspiratorial secrecy. "Some of the oldest ones are said to have involved the intentional immurement of workers, so that they could not betray the exact layout of the building, and the secret passages that were very likely part of the structure."
The group moves on, and Lotti returns to her conspicuous hoarding of books, but only a few moments pass before an old human man attracts her attention with a polite cough. "Good evening, madam, I could not help but notice your interest in the offerings of our archives, here." He gives a shallow bow, a little stiff with age. "Pabrus Telecoum, librarian, at your service. You also seem to be familiar with matters of the arcane, I have here a text that was donated to the library, perhaps it might be of interest to you." He offers Lotti a dog-eared and crumbling journal. Leafing through it, the loosely-bound pages contain the somewhat compelling tale of a young wizard's growth to womanhood and inheriting her family business in Cassomir, some 250 years ago, although large portions are missing or damaged by water so it is a little difficult to decipher the specifics. However, the most interesting feature of the journal is extraneous to the story itself, as tucked into the back leather cover is a scroll which Lotti immediately recognizes as being of an arcane nature.
After examining her newly-acquired treasure, she manages to get a read on the auras of both the Grand Duke and the Viscountess as they converse quietly in a corner.
Meanwhile, back at Martella, Rose sees Malphene Trent advancing on Senator Duo. Unfortunately, everyone except Marius was absent.
"I'll try and interfere. Can either of you get the others, either by message or by finding them? I'd rather not be by myself, just in case," she says to the two of them, then walks in the direction of Martella's target.
Martella speaks hurriedly into her badge, and everyone hears her message in their minds. "Need some back-up in the Gallery, quickly!"
As Rose starts moving towards the noblewoman, she watches as Malphene and her sycophants corner the young senator, bodily interposing themselves between him and his conversation partner, then shoving him into a nearby meeting room and shutting the door behind them. Ornate, gilded letters proclaim it to be the "Beldam II Waiting Room".
Figuring it was her job to at least buy time until the others got here, Rose attempts to open the door.
Finding it locked, she thinks for a moment, then simply knocks. "Lady Trent? I am Raesilia Talbot, daughter of Duke Talbot. I was hoping to make your acquiantance. Now, I know it is your debut in high society, but surely I did not notice you kidnapping a senator just now, did I? The scandal would be unheard of, damaging the reputation of your entire family for years! Could you perhaps open this so we can talk face to face, instead?"
Rose keeps her distance from any of Treant's supporters and speaks mostly from the doorway. "Lady Trent? I am Raesilia Talbot, daughter of Duke Talbot. I was hoping to make your acquaintance..."
She widens her eyes in mock shock at the happenings in the room. "Though not exactly in this manner...? You *are* all aware that we are at the most prestigious social event of the civilized world, correct? Gross misconduct such as manhandling fellow nobles ill suits us Taldans and puts either side of the vote to shame. A scandal like this would mar the name of your entire family for years, if not decades to come! And just on your introduction to high society, too. So please, why don't we all have a drink, trust in the vote to run its fair course and forget all about this ever happening, hm?"
She folds her hands in front of her abdomen and smiles pleasantly.
"Thank you for your candor, my lord," Konstiantina says to the Baron. "I appreciate it and promise to be equally candid in all matters with you. My lady Iomedae would have it no other way."
She's about to continue when she hears Martella's hasty summons.
"If you both will excuse me?"
And with that she leaves the archives, hurrying to the Gallery, where she espies Rose making a beeline for a closed door.
There's no time for talk, so Konstiantina simply sweeps in behind Rose, expression severe, brows lowered as she does her level best to both ascertain what is going on while looking like she already knew.
As Rose approaches the meeting room, she can hear Malphene's raised voice from inside. There is a pause as Senator Dou makes a reply, too quiet to be heard through the door; it does not seem to go down well with the young woman, who begins shouting. As Rose opens the door, she can see Amadorian Dou backed up against the wall, with Lady Trant fisting his shirt and shouting in his face ...smartass! I'll show you what we do with smartasses and traitors!" She whirls around at the sound of the door being open and Rose's voice, a sneer on her face.
"I didn't call for the help, you can come back to clean up when we're done here." Her companions, three young men who all look like aristocrats, grin maliciously.
Her face falls a little as Rose introduces herself and points out the potentially damaging consequences of her behaviour. She slowly releases Senator Dou, giving him a dark look that clearly communicates 'we're not done', then gathers her posse with a twitch of her head and sweeps past Rose with a scowl. She almost runs into Konstiantina, giving the paladin an up-and-down flick of her eyes with a disdainful sniff as she storms off.
Amadorian calmly straightens his shirt and jacket, turning to give Rose a bow. "Thank you, Lady Talbot. Your arrival was fortuitous, she was riled up enough to resort to physical means of intimidation, I believe." He takes off his glasses, removes a square of doeskin from an inside pocket and starts to clean them as he gazes through the open door that Lady Trant stormed through. His lambent grey eyes are a little wistful and sad. "We used to be childhood friends, but she has changed so much... Her father's influence, I suspect. A shame."
Konstiantina's handsome face expresses nothing but cool neutrality as she watches Lady Trant sweep past along with her flunkies, and when the party is gone, she steps into the room, a short, vertical line between her brows indicating her concern.
But she still doesn't know what is going on, and in such moments, has learned to hold her peace and wait till she does.
So, moving forward to stand alongside Rose, she studies Amadorian, parsing his words, and waiting for Rose to add some much needed context.
Amadorian calmly straightens his shirt and jacket, turning to give Rose a bow. "Thank you, Lady Talbot. Your arrival was fortuitous, she was riled up enough to resort to physical means of intimidation, I believe." He takes off his glasses, removes a square of doeskin from an inside pocket and starts to clean them as he gazes through the open door that Lady Trant stormed through. His lambent grey eyes are a little wistful and sad. "We used to be childhood friends, but she has changed so much... Her father's influence, I suspect. A shame."
Rose nods understandingly at his admission. "You have my sympathies. Losing one's friends is never easy and to be called a traitor by a former one must hurt even worse. I take it she didn't like how you intend to vote?"
She then acknowledges the paladin's stern and silent prescence with a grateful nod. "Oh, and you are most welcome regardless, senator. Thanks aren't necessary; our mutal friend takes care of our own and so do I. May I introduce Lady Mokei, an... 'acquaintance' of mine? While I personally view violence as a regrettable last resort, that doesn't mean we are defenseless nor unwilling to act, should it come to it, as I believe she examplifies well."
She gives the other woman a charming smile and waits for either other conversationalist to make their further introductions.
'Maybe she likes being complimented on her martial prowess more? I wonder what her glare in the library was about...'
Amadorian shakes his head and replaces the spectacles on his nose. "Her father had certain... expectations, as my own father used to be a political ally of his. I'm afraid Lord Trant does not take disappointment well." He bows to Konstiantina as well. "A pleasure to meet you both, I am Amadorian Dou, junior senator. It is encouraging to see such solidarity among our cause, however I am afraid that I must insist on repaying you for your bravery." He speaks the last phrase with solemnity and utter seriousness. "Please visit my office tomorrow."
"Well, if you're inclined to insist, I believe I'll take you up on that offer."
'If we survive...'
She inclines her head towards the senator regardless, and parts with him upon leaving the room.
When he is out of earshot, Rose turns to Konstiantina. "Thank you for the assist. I wasn't sure Treant would be ameniable to logic, but fortunately she was. Now... was there anything we had to discuss before returning to our tasks?"
"But of course," says Konstiantina, speaking at last once the senator is gone. "Though it seems you had the situation well in hand before I even arrived. Well done."
The paladin briskly smooths down her robes and then gives Rose a neutral smile. "I believe I was going to tackle Countess Pace next. Unless she has already been taken care of?"
Martella waves to Rose from the other side of the Gallery, indicating that she should come over.
Once Rose approaches, Martella hands her a file. "Well done with Lady Trant, please be a dear and return this to the archives."
Lotti excuses herself from the elderly pair in the Archives and makes her way back to Lady Martella - though apparently whatever issue the noblewoman wanted addressed had already been resolved by the time she arrived. Well, waste not want not she muses as she sips yet another cup of tea.
”I couldn’t help but notice that nobody has spoken with the servants,” Lotti observes out loud between sips. ”This dress is certainly lovely, but it’ll stick out like a cat in a henhouse there. If only there were someone more practical than me...” She takes another sip and winks conspiratorially at the Lady Talbot.
The paladin briskly smooths down her robes and then gives Rose a neutral smile. "I believe I was going to tackle Countess Pace next. Unless she has already been taken care of?"
"Not that I know of. And it looks like Martella has another letter for me. If this is the last one, I believe I will search the servant's quarters next. We still need to find that exit. Good luck with your task, lady Mokei." Rose gives Konstiantina a curt nod and moves to take her charge from Martella, where Lotti joins them.
”I couldn’t help but notice that nobody has spoken with the servants,” Lotti observes out loud between sips. ”This dress is certainly lovely, but it’ll stick out like a cat in a henhouse there. If only there were someone more practical than me...” She takes another sip and winks conspiratorially at the Lady Talbot.
Rose smiles. "And she says it with such a straight face, too, as if she couldn't change shape and outfit alike the moment it suited her? Remind me to never play a card game against our dear elder."
She slips the file into her handbag. "But on a more serious note, Lotti's right. I was planning to take a look there anyway. If there's an emergency exit somewhere, it has to be there. And if not, someone should know how to dispose of the trash in an unseemly manner."
Rose effortlessly weaves through the crowd towards the library for the third time, where she takes a moment to look at and study the contents of the file before returning it to its rightful place.
After that, she approaches Count Zespire again. "Apologies for leaving just now, uncle. There was an emergency of sorts I had to care of. Thankfully a lesser one than our previous conversation." She smiles wryly and gives the man an apologetic bow. "What I wanted to say back then is that I hope you're right. I admit I am inexperienced in these matters, and not an important figure in the grand scheme of things. However, I do trust our source, and what I *can* do is relay information between those I believe also have Taldor's best interests at heart. I hope someone as accomplished as yourself can turn that into a meaningful difference should it still to pass."
On her way to the Beldam II room to help out with the situation surrounding Malphene Trant, Mirann comes across Rose and Konstantiantina on their ways out. Overhearing the question about Pace, the Vudrani woman quickly shares what she's found out , and heads back down to the Arcade, pilfering the buckler for added measure.
Rose takes a peek at the file as she walks towards the archives, deftly avoiding those in her path - it seems to be minutes of older Senate meetings. She catches Count Zespire as he is about to exit the library in search for a drink (as food and beverages are not allowed among the scrolls, books and various parchments). He nods at her words. "I am flattered that you think so highly of me, niece. It is good to be cautious, and I will keep my eyes open tonight."
In the Arcade, a Phalanx soldier clears his throat as Mirann reaches for the buckler. "Please don't touch the exhibits, miss."
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Lotti smiles innocently at Rose and bids the noblewoman farewell before setting down her teacup and collecting Wobblekins from under the table. She first swings back through the archives, finding the Grand Duke Avernus standing by himself.
”It’s fascinating, isn’t it?” Lotti doesn’t look directly at the much-larger man, but instead studies the spines of several large times on the lower shelf. ”A testimony to Taldor’s strength that is has survived so long out of balance with itself.” Feeling rather than seeing the Duke raise an eyebrow, she shrugs her shoulders. ”Disqualifying an entire half of the family from using their full potential? It’s like practicing only evocations and not abjurations, or thinking that magic can solve all your problems when a strong sword arm prevents a good half of them from even showing their faces. Luck is certainly a large player in politics, but it’s a fickle card dealer that you’ve got to be prepared to play with.”
Lotti then floats off in her best imitation of Rose to stand near the Viscountess Nicodemus. She leans on the wall and sighs dramatically. ”It’s a shame, isn’t it? Knowledge lost from the silencing of an entire half of the population. Who knows what books were penned, what thoughts were put to paper before someone decided they weren’t worth keeping and tossed them into the rubbish heap like yesterday’s fish? What secrets, what mysteries could even a page of such a tome reveal to us now! Alas, I fear such destruction and loss will continue as long as this country continues to pretend some people are more capable than others sorely because of what’s between their... ears.” She nods gravely and looks up at the noblewoman’s clouded eyes.
Her work here done, Lotti heads across the courtyard to the Arcade once more. Spotting the same noblewoman who had mentioned that particular crossbow earlier, she quickly makes a beeline for an adjacent display case. ”Have you heard of this Baronet Cicato?” she asks innocently. ”He’s such a dashing figure in that breastplate - surely the fates have something good in store for him!”
Her curiosity sated (or perhaps her companion’s patience worn out), Lotti turns her attention to the displays themselves. She passes quickly by a serving tray propped up on the velvet cushions and instead directs the attention of anyone nearby to an intricately-carved dagger and buckler. ”Can you not sense how the fates swirl around these?”
The Grand Duke sights along his long, sharp nose towards the gnome, slightly taken by surprise by the shrewd speech. "Well, you're not wrong, mistress, although I'm not sure why you're telling me this. Are you a student of the arcane?" He seems curious more than anything, staring in puzzlement as Lotti walks away to speak cryptically with the Viscountess. His brows furrowed, he returns to the study of the tome in his hands.
Meanwhile, Octavia's old, gnarled hand shoots out as soon as Lotti starts speaking, finding her shoulder. She chuckles in a dry, papery voice. "Oh my, what aura, what strength. Oh, the spirits are gifting me with such visions about you!" Lowering her voice, she pulls herself closer, dropping the act and rasping. "I've heard you around here before, haven't I? Are you a charlatan, an entertainer? Or are you truly interested in the esoteric? For if not, kindly do not waste my time, I have little enough of it left." Although her manner seems brusque, Lotti gets the feeling that she made an impression on the old woman.
In the Arcade, only the journal and the buckler are left of Earl Vernisant's historical display. As Lotti leans in closer to examine them, a middle-aged human woman leisurely walks over to stop by the gnome's side, gesturing towards the journal. "A fascinating historical artifact this is, although it has no intrinsic magic. What you might be detecting are the traces of alchemical and magical substances used in the preservation of it." She cocks her head towards the "seeress". "If you'd like, I can show you. I am Copernia Vau, the Senate's curator of antiquities. Our restoration room is this way." For the next 15 minutes, Lotti gets a tour of aforementioned room, where artifacts are cleaned and preserved, and a short demonstration of how one would go about treating paper and parchment against the ravages of time. At the conclusion of the tour, she offers two small glass bottles capped with cork and carefully labeled in a neat script. "Here, if you would like to practice what I've just showed you. Remember that you need a soft, wide brush to apply the unguent to more delicate materials, such as paper. Use only a drop or two, else it will infuse the base too much."
Leaving the others, Konstiantina makes her way down to the gallery, studying her target as she draws near. Countess Pace's ostentation and ridiculous gauche clothing could be interpreted in two ways; either the woman truly was invested in appearing like a peacock, with all the psychological foibles that went into such an ambition, or she was actively seeking to be underestimated by her peers.
Konstiantina hoped it was the latter.
"If I may, Countess?" Konstiantina speaks with smooth, cool grace, her smile reserved, her presence calm, collected, confident. "I have not had the opportunity to present myself: I am Konstiantina Mokei, paladin of Iomedae. May I speak with you?"
If the countess proves amenable:
"I'm afraid that I'm not one given to subtlety, so I ask your pardon for my directness. There is a matter being put to the vote today that concerns me greatly, and I am endeavoring to learn how the principals plan to vote."
Something about Pace's gaudy appearance causes the paladin to grow all the more centered, to try and speak to the figure at the heart of that display, to connect with the real Abrielle Pace. She holds the woman's gaze with her own, and something powerful seems to wash over her, not mere confidence, but a sense that she is acting with her goddess's approval.
"I simply ask that we set aside the normal games of bluff and feint and speak, if possible, as two women to each other. The fate of our sex is in many ways being determined with this vote. Do you plan to support women's ability to inherit, or are you opposed to it?"
The Countess peers at Konstiantina over her spectacles, her eyebrows rising as she is being addressed. "And what have we here? A paladin, how extraordinary. A little out of place amongst all this, hm?" She gestures with her ostrich feather fan at the assembled nobility. "I am flattered that you would think of me as one of the principals, although you are quite right, of course. And why would I not support such a cause? Especially with the growing support it has been gaining, why, it seems the churches are also getting involved now, isn't that so?"
Mirann scowls at the guard and hangs around the Arcade until he is distracted with Lotti and Copernia Vau, at which she takes the buckler anyways.
When Konstiantina and Rose converge to assist Malphene, Marius decides that too many cooks would spoil the broth and instead runs through a tally of the Senators his companions have not yet fully wooed. As the Grand Duke Avernathus pauses in his rounds to admire a shattered stave dating to the Shining Crusade, Marius resolves to make an opportunity and steps up beside the elder nobleman.
"A sobering reminder, I think," Marius begins slowly, contemplating the shattered staff on its satin pillow. "That staff once held the power to call down fire from the heavens and turned hosts of the dead to ash--until one day Albrennus pushed his luck too far and the Tyrant's brutes caught up with him. Magic is a wondrous thing, it lets us push the boundaries of the possible moreso than any other skill. Yet when it is all said and done the difference between triumph and defeat hangs on Fortune's fickle favor." Marius bows to the Grand Duke of the latter is amenable to conversation. "Sir Marius Erallan, recently of the Taldan Phalanx. At your disposal, my lord."
Konstiantina's smile is measured, her expression gauging, her presence tempered by her awareness as to how many of the nobles hardly say what they truly mean.
"Iomedae is wherever justice and honor are both exemplified and needed. Today truly seems to be such a situation. And while I do not speak ex cathedra, I speak as a Taldaan with vested interests in our nation's view of justice. Countess Pace, I don't expect you to confide your secrets to an overbearing stranger. I simply ask that you consider, when you vote, that you and I are as worthy of wielding power, influence, and deciding the course of history as much as any man, if not more so than most. May I ask you again: which way do you intend to vote?"
Mirann snatches a cloth napkin from the arm of a passing servant, then deftly places the silver serving tray on top of the buckler, covering both with the napkin and carrying them away.
Grand Duke Avernathus snorts at Marius's approach. "Why is everyone talking to me about fortune and luck today? Taldan Phalanx, eh? Good for you. Interested in magic, are you? Or just bored?"
Meanwhile, Countess Abrielle Pace starts giggling, a sound that is at least odd coming from someone of her age and affectation. "Oh, so direct, so forthcoming, dare I say - blunt! Aren't you precious." She links her arm into Konstiantina's and begins strolling around the Gallery, languidly fanning herself. "You are obviously not used to these things, my dear, but you did well to come to me for guidance - I am very well versed in both the social and the political scene. Your first lesson is to never say what you truly think. Everyone here keeps their true goals and motives close to their chests." At that, she trails the feathered edge of her fan over her own bosom, smirking. "And yes, you are a clever girl, we women do have power and influence, even if we do not wield it overtly." She continues in this fashion for a few more minutes, lecturing the paladin in the finer points of social subterfuge and political manipulation.
Marius' lips quirk in a tiny smile at the Grand Duke's sarcasm. "A trifle bored, yes, and I am genuinely sorry if I've inflicted the same upon you, my lord. As to your first question: are their any souls in all Golarion so boorish as to have no interest in magic? I confess my personal talents are not in the arcane, but I studied under Field Marshal Vaerli and am familiar with the Art in an academic sense."
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Lotti smiles and thanks the kind archivist. ”You’re too kind - that is, as long as you’re not implying I need these,” she teases as she sinks into a deep curtsy. ”By the way, have you heard of this Baronet Cicato? He’s such a dashing figure in that breastplate, isn’t he. Where do you think it came from? It’s certainly in the local style, but those details...”
Feeling satisfied with her work (and with her pockets rather full), the “seer” makes her way back to the Archives to pay another visit to the Grand Duke and the Viscountess. She turns the corner of a bookshelf and almost runs into Octavia, stopping a moment before stepping on the noblewoman’s dress. ”Oh, my apologies!” she murmurs softly, not wanting to cause a scene (this time). ”But just the woman I was searching for! This journal came into my possession under rather mysterious circumstances, you see, and while I detect arcane power inside I find myself hesitant to delve in without another scholar at the risk of causing damage to myself - or others. Your reputation precedes you, and I would humbly ask to benefit from your expertise in the hidden and occult.” She holds the book out so the other woman can inspect it as she wishes.
As the conversation dies down, Lotti spots Marius speaking with Avernus and decides to leave the two gentlemen alone. Wandering into the nearly-empty senate hall, she smiles. Perhaps it’s time for a bit of fun.
”Noble senators, your attention please!” The elderly gnome raps on the surface of the podium she sits perched behind, glaring over thin spectacles at the other sightseers. ”Yes, yes you - of course I’m talking to you!” She looks down at Wobblekins with a long-suffering face before continuing. ”Now, it has come to my attention that some of us... have filed a motion to outlaw chairs! Grand Duchess, how do you feel about this? It was you who filed the motion, was it not?” She motions to a lady in a gaudy pink gown and waits for a few moments before turning to another woman underneath an emerald-green hat adorned with flowers. ”And how does the opposition respond? Viscountess, remember that you are not only representing yourself, but also the hundred of carpenters and guilds that would be devastated by this legislation.” She grins at her two “victims”, inviting them to play along if only for a moment.
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Avernathus scoffs at Marius's question. "You're in the Phalanx, son, you must have met plenty of souls with no interest in magic. Glad to hear you're not one of them, though. And if you're interested in further studies, there are a few writings I can recommend."
In the restoration room, curator Vau taps her chin with one finger in thought. "Baronet Cicato... I believe he hails from Cassomir, or whereabouts. He's been asking me about acquiring some exhibits from Absalom, for the Arcade. I think he mostly wants to study them, from what I understand he has a keen interest in modernizing our military."
Back in the Archives, Viscountess Nicodemus is sitting in an alcove, clouded eyes staring into the distance as she runs her fingers over a small leather-bound tome. "Ah, the seer. So you are not wasting my time after all." She sets aside the book and reaches out one hand, waiting. "Let us see what you have found here. A mysterious journal imbued with arcane power? Truly magical tomes are very rare, but... ah, yes, there is psychic resonance." Once she has the journal in her hands, she runs her fingers across the cover, along the spine, turning it in her hands. "Ah, she is forgotten now, but when she wrote this she was so full of hopes and dreams... Grand ambition, learning, curiosity. Another practitioner of the arts, perhaps." She hands the journal back, adding drily. "The magic you sense is an arcane scroll. Nothing too dangerous, but not particularly useful either, unless you regularly find yourself violently antagonized."
Octavia ponders for another moment. "I like you. If you ever want to visit my Endless Repository in Porthmos, I shall personally give you a tour. Much more interesting things there than this sad journal."
On the Senate floor, the woman in pink appears nonplussed, but another noble steps in. "Indeed, Grand Duchess Solarian filed this motion, and I fully support it! Let us consider for a moment the many hazards that chairs pose, as well as the adverse effects that they might have on one's health! And let us also consider the many cultures that forego chairs entirely! Surely we are all familiar with history here, and with the ascendance of civilizations such as Ancient Osirion, or even our rivals Katapesh and Qadira!"
A few onlookers scoff and cry "Nonsense! Outlaw chairs? Preposterous!", but the other woman Lotti had singled out seems inclined to play along. "Oh, please, Lord Lymere, surely you are not so feeble as to be unmanned by a chair! Health hazards, indeed. Or perhaps do you have hidden motives to rally so against these implements of civilization? Perhaps you have a mercantile interest in a cushion cooperative!" Lord Lymere laughs once, sharply. "Ah, Lady Khazar, you are one to speak of mercantile interests! Or, should I say, 'Lumber Baron of the Jalrune', hmmm?"
The half-serious, half-playful debate continues for some time, with more people drawn into it and taking one side or the other. Lotti finds herself face to face with an older male half-elf dressed in an expensive robe, his greying brown hair falling in ringlets across his shoulders, who is still wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "Ah, Mistress, that was very entertaining, thank you for that." He takes off a large gold ring emblazoned with an aristocratic crest and offers it to the gnome. "Judge Dartist Mercenian, at your service. Please take this as a sign of my, and my family's, favour."
With her task completed, Rose makes well on her promise to Lotti and moves back to the Senate hall, where a particularly heated debate on... chairs of all things (?) seems to take place.
She tries not to get caught up in the amusing insanity on display and sticks close to the edges of the room, where she instead focusses on any weaknesses in security, like windows that could easily be opened. Once she feels she can't find anything else, she observes the servants as they came and went, especially from where they appeared with the food and where they took the trash. That one had the highest chance to be near a less obvious exit... or so she figured.
After locating it and deciding on an excuse to go there, she enters the door and looks around for the person coordinating the servant's logistics, if he or she doesn't spontaneously approach a noble entering the non-public area.
Rose discovers two small side exits located between the Emperor's Hall and the courtyard. The windows in the back wall of the building, behind the Senate Floor, are high and narrow, their lower edges about 10 feet off the floor.
The servant's area is as large as the Imperial Archives, a sprawling wing of storerooms, kitchens, workshops and pantries, operated by a small army of servants who are currently bustling around. There does not seem to be one person coordinating this, the servants seem to mostly know what they are doing and only occasionally they shout terse questions and instructions to one another as the flow around Rose, nodding respectfully.
Milling about the Arcade after her latest theft, Mirann accidentally steps on the Strategos's boot. Visibly embarrassed, she bows deeply. "I am dreadfully sorry, Milord. Might I offer a dance as apology?"
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Marius finds himself genuinely enjoying his conversation with the Grand Duke and lingers perhaps a bit longer than strictly necessary. Eventually making his exit with an earnest handshake, the nobleman refills his plate and then looks around for another target. For a wild moment he contemplates walking right up the the High Strategos and introducing himself, but quickly dismisses the mad thought with a shake of his head.
With military nobles on the mind, however, Marius spots Landgrave Ogvai Jarlbjorn and internally shrugs. Nabbing a second drink from a passing servant, Marius approaches the other noble and presses the drink into his hand. "Thank all the gods that the vote is nearly here, I think I've reached my limit of gossip and false smiles." Tossing back his drink, Marius inclines his head to indicate the medals pinned to the Landgrave's chest. "Where did you serve, my lord? It had to have been better than the Galtan border--half the time the arrows they sent our way had revolutionary pamphlets tied to them. I'd have preferred poison to that drivel."
Konstiantina allows herself to be guided about the gallery, listening with a slight smile as the other woman lectures her on the arts of diplomacy and courtly intrigue, and only inclines her head when the other finishes.
"It may surprise you, countess, but I am not wholly unfamiliar with the courtly arts. I am Konstiantina Mokei, of House Mokei, and spent most of my youth at court, used, as you can imagine, as a pawn in the ploys of my elders."
She comes to a stop, disengages her arm - though gently - and turns to consider the countess. Her expression is somewhere between kind and thoughtful, her gaze speculative, her bearing proud. "My directness is a choice, and while I'm aware how it may serve me ill in this environment, it's one that my patron and goddess Iomedae commends. And in the end, I know that my successes or failures will be earned on account of my character and principles, not through misdirection, innuendo, trickery, or outright lies."
Her smile remains on her lips, robbing her words of potential sting.
"I genuinely appreciate your elevated skill in this arena, Countess Pace, and don't underestimate you in the least. It's why I've chosen to not spar with you, for surely I would lose to such an adept practitioner of the subtle arts. Thus, my almost child-like directness."
Her smile becomes genuine, and she reaches out to touch the other woman's elbow. "While you must continue to battle amongst the greatest political warriors of our realm, I will be removing myself shortly to where I am better suited. I simply hope that you will remember our conversation, and, when the time comes, to vote in favor of our gender and our ability to wield power, no matter what form it takes."
With that, Konstiantina inclines her head graciously and takes her leave, sweeping out into the courtyard, where she takes a moment to survey the crowd.
Then, feeling moved by her own conversation with the countess, she steps forward into the center, and just as the conversation lulls, calls out in a firm and carrying voice:
[b]"My Lady of Valor, Iomedae, Light of the Sword, I call out to thee in this hour of need. I pray to thee for guidance, that thy wisdom enlightens me and those within this great building, and allows their eyes to perceive the path of justice. May you reward honor and fairness, and may you illumine the matters at hand so that every man and woman who is to cast a vote is guided by your virtues. May those who wish to bring justice to every member of this nation be rewarded, and those who wish to horde power be moved to greater generosity of heart and soul."
The High Strategos frowns at the intrusion, but his mood softens as Mirann begins to dance.
In the courtyard, the Landgrave is stretching mightily and yawning as Marius approaches him with drinks in hand. The Ulfen man accepts the glass, peering at it with a sorrowful expression. "Vy is it so tiny? Vere are the proper drinks around here?" He shrugs, downing the drink in one swift move and deftly placing the empty glass on a passing servant's tray. He offers Marius his hand and forearm in a soldier's salute. "Another varrior, yes? Good, good! I fought giants from the Fog Peaks. Tried to varn the emperor ven they invaded, but he didn't listen! So I fought them myself, chased them back to the Peaks, haha! Then emperor says 'here, this piece of land yours to protect'." He rolls his shoulders, smiling widely. "Then emperor says 'come be a senator and talk talk talk talk all day'. That wasn't as much fun." He makes a face and his shoulders slump. Then he brightens up again, smacking Marius on the back with a meaty hand. "Your story funny though!"
Countess Pace practically preens at the paladin's praise. "Ah, Lady Mokei, I'm sure your character is very admirable. You can use that to your advantage with certain people, I'll grant you that. An interesting tactic, I look forward to its results. But consider this - the odds are already stacked against us, so we must use every trick available to us in order to get ahead." She reaches out to take Konstinatina's hand and pat it, a trifle patronizingly. "You can rest assured that I will vote in a way that will augment my power, never fear." She giggles again, waggling her eyebrows a little.
Lotti curtseys and thanks the judge kindly for his generosity before taking her leave of the senate floor. Making her way back up to the gallery, she finds the Marquess Starborne again and grins, hands on her hips. "Well?" she asks expectantly. "Was that more to your liking? It wasn't magic per se, but a bit of laughter - and commitment to the joke - is almost as good as an enchantment." She waggles a finger and winks. "Almost."
As the Marquess departs, the laughter lines smooth on Lotti's face and she ponders the senate floor below again. Nobody's tried speaking with the servants yet. If anyone knows about a surprise, it'll be one of them. Her mind made up, the gnome bundles up her skirts and makes her way back down the stairs to the ground floor. "You'd think they'd get as tired of all this climbing as I am," she remarks to Wobblekins, who is equally unimpressed with the effort required.
As the steps come to an end, the "seer" considers her approach. Fellow servant? I'd have to magic up a disguise and somehow keep everyone from touching this skirt, which would be downright impossible. A noble? She'd have to have a good reason to consort with common folk. A parent? Maybe not direct family, but extended... Yes, I think that might work best. Her plan constructed, the gnome makes a few small adjustments to her hair to cover her elongated ears and applies a bit of makeup to give her face a more halfing-esque appearance. Once satisfied, she heads into the servants' quarters.
"Hello? Excuse me dear, have you- Oh, yes, you're very busy, no worries. Oh, sir, have you seen my nephew? He said he was a cook here at the Senate, and I wanted to- Yes, I can wait- Wait, do you need a hand with carrying those? No, it's no bother. None whatsoever - besides, what would Harold think if he saw his mother's sister's cousin's grandmother just sitting around and not helping?"
Greeted with a swarm of servants from different professions, Rose heads to the largest kitchen and introduces herself to one of the head chefs. "Greetings, Master chef. I am Raesilia Talbot, daughter of Duke talbot, and I simply had to meet the staff that made those utterly exquisite shirmp packets I tasted in the gallery. Lime and Rosemary, and braised in butter, I think? Or those delicious steamed Osirian Littleneck clams! How do you all make those, and for so many visitors in so little time?"
Eyes lighting up as if getting an idea, she continues. "Oh, is there perhaps any chance I could stay a while and learn something about your recipes? As a Talbot, I'm expected to be proficient in at least two of our familiy's crafts, and while I worked at one of my uncle's restaurants as a chef in training for a while, I would really like to learn more! I'm afraid I haven't had the opportunity to practice in high society recently and I fear my knowledge might have slipped."
After receiving an answer, Rose either stays in the kitchen for a while or lingers around to get a deeper sense of how the servants worked here. She especially takes note if any of them seem unusually nervous and keeps an ear out for gossip. If she believes her prescence makes them watch their tongues, she slips out of sight for a while, then uses the Sleeves of Many garments along with a quick hair-redo to change into someone with a perfect copy of a servant's outfit.
The gnomish senator ponders for a moment, mischief glittering in her eyes, before agreeing. "It was pretty funny." She gives Lotti an appraising look. "If you ever get bored of living among the humans, you should come to Wispil, we like this kind of humour there."
In the Servant Area, most of them step around the halfling-looking visitor, but she manages to get the attention of a an older halfling woman carrying a crate of carefully-packed glasses. "Harold? I don't know him, but I don't work in the kitchens. Maybe Dedrien? What does he look like?"
Dedrien, a towering half-orc woman in a much-stained apron appears from one of the kitchens. "Harold? Not in my kitchen. Why, has he done sumthin'? I told alla you to give Lady Morilla the special treatment, didn't I? She got me a book of recipes from Vudra! And a magical ladle! If I hear any of ya scoundrels been rude ta her..." She crosses her muscled arms and scowls menacingly. "Hells! Who let this cat in here!"
Fortunately, Wobblekins is saved from Molly's wrath by Rose's intervention. Dedrien is in turns baffled by her presence here, pleased by her compliments and flustered by her request. "Um, thank yeh, Lady Talbot, happy to hear ya liked 'em! Umm, was just about to go an' make another batch of the shrimp, they do get eaten like crazy... Jus' be careful, one of the boys spilled sum jam on the floor, mind yer pretty dress." In the kitchen, the chefs, sous-chefs, scullery maids and various other workers are mostly too busy to gossip much, and somewhat unnerved by Rose's presence.
Marius takes three steps towards Marquess Starborne before he sees Lotti and the gnomish noble smiling together. Tipping his glass at Lotti in salute, the youngest son of House Erallan turns his attention back to Earl Yander Merkondus. A member of the conservative bloc, unlikely to vote our way. Very well, let's see what we can do about that.
Taking a moment to Study the other nobleman, Marius approaches and introduces himself. "Earl Merkondus? I had meant to introduce myself before but didn't find the opportunity. Marius Erallan, of Ridonport. A pleasure to make your acquaintance." Marius lowers his voice slightly in a conspiratorial manner. "I must confess my lord, the word on the wind is that things aren't looking good for the vote, it seems the Princess' faction is likely to prevail. I don't know how you're able to look so calm." Marius carefully gauges the other man's reaction.
Fortunately, Wobblekins is saved from Molly's wrath by Rose's intervention. Dedrien is in turns baffled by her presence here, pleased by her compliments and flustered by her request. "Um, thank yeh, Lady Talbot, happy to hear ya liked 'em! Umm, was just about to go an' make another batch of the shrimp, they do get eaten like crazy... Jus' be careful, one of the boys spilled sum jam on the floor, mind yer pretty dress." In the kitchen, the chefs, sous-chefs, scullery maids and various other workers are mostly too busy to gossip much, and somewhat unnerved by Rose's presence.
Noticing the somewhat tense reaction from the staff, and seeing Wobblekins and Lotti linger around the room in the back, Rose smiles gently. "Now now, there's no need to be so formal. Your kitchen, your rules, hm? It was my request, after all! Surely I can borrow one of those spare aprons over there and do some honest work while I'm here? This dress has convenient short sleeves for a reason."
Not waiting for permission, she confidently strides forward and slides the apron over the dress, taking care not to slide in the grease on the floor... which was kind of hard, on heels, but so be it!
For the next few minutes, she carefully follows instructions from Dedrien. "So, you mix the dough like this, add the spices to the mix... wait until the outer layer starts to brown... and-"
To her own surprise, she manages to decently copy the professional orc woman's food flip at the first try! "Huh. Maybe I haven't quite lost my touch yet! So how long should we let them stir until serving?"
She keeps working for a while if allowed, trying to help out the staff and learn some things on the way, hopefully buying some time for Lotti to move around more freely while the attention was on this weird overdressed noble cook in the kitchen.
Earl Merkondus nods in greeting to Marius, still seated in one of the plush armchairs in the Gallery. "Ah, my lord, a delight to meet you. Please pardon me for not standing, my leg is bothering me terribly tonight. A childhood accident that took my brother's life and left me crippled, alas." He sighs, his expression somber, as his mouth tenses in what seems to be both current physical pain and old grief. At Marius's remark, he shrugs slightly. "Politics are what they always are, Lord Erallan. Factions come and go, and take their turn at being in power. But through it all, the wheels of commerce turn. Why, even revolutionary Galt, with their curious ideas about government, are starting to feel the inescapable need for trade."
In the Servant Area, Dedrien rolls up her sleeves to give Rose a dose of personal instruction on making shrimp packets, talking her through the ingredients, measurements, step-by-step preparation and her own special tricks. She pauses now and then to glare at some of the other personnel who is staring slack-jawed at the noblewoman helping out in the kitchen. As she closes the oven door with a satisfying thunk, she wipes her hands on her apron and reaches up for a small wooden box sitting on a high shelf. Taking a couple of vials from inside, she offers them to Rose. "That was good work, m'lady, thank ye f'r yer interest. Now then, if ye'll come across some not-so-good cooks, these should set ya right again."
In the rest of the building, a gradual hush extends from the entrance to the senate, and the crowd parts as servants unroll a crimson carpet through the Arcade of triumphs and the senate floor. Grand Prince Stavian III, surrounded by a host of his Ulfen Guard, ascends the hundred steps and starts moving briskly across the ceremonial carpet. Guests quickly flow towards this, straining to catch a glimpse of Taldor's leader. Without sparing a single glance for his subjects and guests, the Grand Prince strides towards the Emperor's Hall, disappearing inside and leaving most of his guards to form an imposing and forbidding wall in front of the entrance.
As the assembled guests murmur in confusion and consternation, servants begin to bring out a light supper, placing various expensive cheeses, fruits, pastries and wines out on tables, or carrying platters to offer momentary repast. The food seems to placate the crowd, and soon conversations return to normal.