|A Wedding at Broadmoor|
|Summary:||After the wedding ceremony, guests meet in the Lord's Hall to celebrate with food, wine, and dancing…and of the course the traditionally ribald bedding ceremony.|
|Date:||27 Jan 2013|
|Related Logs:||Any Ilaria/Alric and wedding-related logs! Continues HERE|
|Lord's Hall - Broadmoor|
|Practical rather than lavish, this large hall serves as the main meeting place for those who seek the Lord's ear. A dais raises a pair of matching, tall backed chairs aloft from the polished wood of the main floor, with colorful banners draping the wall at their backs - the vibrant hues of House Haigh incorporated into painstakingly embroidered scenes of glory and triumph. The remaining walls are wood-panelled, lending a certain grandeur in keeping with the tall, vaulted beams of the ceiling overhead, from which several chandeliers hang. Additional light is provided by the high windows within the northern wall.|
|Little expense has been spared in the decorating of the chamber for the evening's festivities and feast. Long trestle tables line the walls, leaving space at the center of the floor for dancing, music provided by the Lord's own minstrels. Bouquets and garlands of richly fragrant and colorful flowers - a traditional selection of deep red roses, sheafs of wheat and golden primroses - are scattered here and there, further spiced with herbs. Every spare inch of the tabletops, it seems, is laden with platters and bowls of sumptuous delicacies, from roast pig glazed with honey and seasoning, to chicken and duck, bread and potatoes, an array of roasted vegetables.. the kitchens of Broadmoor have truly outdone themselves. Servants work briskly to ensure that pitchers and goblets remain overflowing. Overhead, decorative celebratory banners loop from one beam to the next, between the candlelit warmth of the chandeliers.|
|The largest doorway leads to a porch overlooking the Stone Court outside, while a less imposing archway leads to a long gallery to the south. Both are sedately guarded.|
|Sun, Jan 27, 290|
After a wedding full of the usual pomp and lavish rituals and cloak exchanges, the guests are funneled into the Lord's Hall for an even more lavish reception. The long tables are already laden with food and ewers of wine and water, and the room is an amalgam of the rich, heady smells of a gourmet spread meant to entice and invite. The musicians have been confined to a particular corner, and when the first guests begin to arrive they cease the idle tuning and plucking and begin to serenade them softly.
The high table is set for the newly wedded couple, and two matching high-backed chairs are placed in the center and facing outward toward the festivities. Here Ilaria and Alric are seated, surrounded by family and honored guests and partaking over the post-wedding feast
She may have cried a few tears during the ceremony - perhaps even more so than her parents. But now Katrin sits next to her newly wed sister with a proud smile brightening her scarred face. Dressed in a stunning crimson gown for the occasion, she brushes back an errant curl with a lazy gesture and leans closer to Ilaria. "How do you feel, dear one?" she murmurs quietly to her sister, affection bright in her eyes.
It's fair to say that noble weddings aren't exactly Mortimer's usual stomping grounds, but since it's not currently his turn to be actively watching over Lady Faline he follows the lead of a couple of the Haigh retainers and finds himself a set on one of the far tables. Quite near the musicians it turns out, which suits him just fine. Taking the time to glance towards the top table he makes a quick note of where the Terrick's present are sat, just in case, then turns back to refuse a serving of wine from his neighbour, muttering something about needing to be on duty later.
Sitting next to his, now, wife is Alric. Sitting upon his chair and eyes do go out over the room from where he sits and greets those that start to filter into the hall. Having his somewhat more fancy and for those that saw him yesterday or in the morning he does seem as good as new. Smiling and just sharing a few pleasant words with Ilaria in between greeting people. Offering his hand to her, a bit discreetly. "Feeling good?" He asks, echoing Katrin's question a bit perhaps.
A moderately sized group comes sweeping into the large Hall, many dressed in the colors of House Nayland (no matter how horrific a clashing of colors they might be), except for the lady who heads up the group. No, this particular lady is dressed in all black but does it justice anyway. Visenya Goodbrook, nee Nayland stops long enough to look this way and then that. True to Nayland pride, she takes her time as if her steps were the most important in the entire room, head held high.
After the wedding, Robben and Aemy had lingered in the fountain court for just a little longer with the other Erenfords present before they are just now making their way into the Lord's Hall together, Aemy has her hand tucked safely into the arm of the Ashwood as he leads her to table where there is enough room for the others from Heronhurst. With a smile, she whispers to her betrothed, the joy in her expression obvious.
Daryl enters the Lord's hall looking not quite his usual self. Where he would typically be found in lawmen's hardened leather, the Ashwood finds himself garbed in a flashy, eye catching surcoat of copper tones and black lining. It looks to be brand new. With a broad, confident smile he looks about, escorting on his arm one Lady Ceinlys who seems to be dressed just as well in a elegant gold dress. Setting his free hand on the Steward's arm, he leans in to whisper with a wry smirk, before he looks about for a table that is designated or dominated by Ashwoods, where he'll lead the young woman at his side to towards it. On their approach, the swagger in his gait is flawless, as if the man himself were getting married today. Thankfully? He is not. "Looks like this'll turn out to be quite evening?"
Daryl looks aside towards Ceinlys then, catching her eyes with a meaningful sort of half-smirk, half-smile and then he looks about the room, spotting his cousin Robben from afar, and Aemy beside. His grin grows more, but it is barely noticeable.
Ilaria holds tight to a goblet of wine, cupping the sterling bowl with her fingers and lifting the rim to her lips. She has passed the level of 'sipping' and now takes complete swallows, savoring the heady, oaken red at is travels over her tongue. "I am feeling just fine, sister," she answers Katrin patiently, fielding that same question over and over again as others around pepper her with concern. What else would a bride be on her wedding day besides 'fine'?
Dark green eyes flick sideways toward Alric, and Ilaria succumbs to the subtle request by pressing his fingers with her own before reaching up to poke at her food with a spoon. Despite the intense growling in her belly, the young Haigh - no wait, the young Fenster - tends to her meal with the proper delicate, ladylike bites. Occasionally she lifts her gaze to watch as the nobles pour in through the huge doors, and her eyebrows arch upward at the sight of some couples.
What a beautiful wedding it was. To see her brother finally wed was something to behold. Bella Fenster walks in, her arm slipped into the crook of that of the Jast Knight, currently Sheriff of Highfield. In her free hand there is a single white rose with the thorns cut carefully away. As they approach the table with her family, she moves toward Ilaria, offering her the rose, "Welcome to the family, my lady. I am so happy you are finally my goodsister." Though there will be many crowding the new bride, she does not linger, taking a seat near her brother, leaving the one beside her free for Erik.
A hand rests gently upon her lord cousin's arm as Muirenn is escorted into the hall. A pair of guards, the Erenford crest emblazoned upon their tabards, accompany the pair, making their way silently to the wall where they might watch but remain unobtrusive. As they are directed towards their seats, the young woman sweeps the layers of her skirt beneath her and sits. Bending her head, she murmurs somewhat to Brennart before casting a smiling look at the newlywed couple.
Making his way in with the other quests, Martyn makes his way in and finding a place a bit out of the way for now. Looking around for a few moments, he smiles a bit as he spots Muirenn, offering a smile to his sister for now. Then he looks around the room to spot the various people present for the moment.
Ceinlys is indeed finely dressed for the occasion, even by her typically high standards; the luscious golden hues offsetting her dark hair and vivid eyes in a subtly appealing fashion, and with just a glimpse of bare skin to be seen about her throat and shoulders. Everything has progressed smoothly, thus far. The ceremony was gorgeous, Ilaria looked beautiful, Katrin managed not to ruin her hair and attire while discreetly sniffling throughout the vows. And all that comes together to grace the Steward's features with a contentment that softens and suits her austere features.
Though she tilts her head to accept Daryl's softly-uttered words, the young lady's blue eyes continue to rove those already gathered, even when his remark rouses a fleeting grin, a mere flash of white teeth. It takes a moment more for her to feel his gaze upon her, and she meets it with a fractional nod. It will be a night to remember. With her daughter dispatched - safely under guard - to her bedchambers, the noblewoman is now quite free to relax and enjoy the festivities. She allows herself to be led across the floor, a hand resting lightly upon the ashwood's forearm.
With a gentle smile to Ilaria, Katrin leans in to give a kiss to her sister's cheek and a quiet murmur in her ear before the Haigh lady rises to her feet, eyes flickering across the wide expanse of people. Hr brows raise on seeing certain attendees but a graceful smile eases its way across her lips and becomes a staple of her features. Time to roam and gossip.
Walking beside the young Fenster Lady, Erik matches the her pace perfectly as they approach the high table where the newly wed couple are seated. Remaining silent as his escort offers her greetings and congraluations first to Ilaria, the Jast waits his turn. When she is finished, he takes his turn and steps forward, bowing to the couple, "Congratulations on the union, Lord and Lady Fenster, it was an elegant ceremony. May you two have years and years of happiness." Without tarrying, Erik steps back and escorts Arabella to her assigned seat, pulling her chair back for her before slowly pushing it in, timing the motions perfectly. Then he takes his own seat at her side, finally taking the time to look at the others that are present.
Robben leans a bit closer to Aemy as she whispers to him, nodding a little as he offers her a smile as he whispers something back now, the joy in his own expression unable to be contained either. A brief pause as he turns to look around, gaze pausing on Daryl and Ceinlys at the moment, offering them both a nod and a smile.
A smile to Ilaria is given from Alric as he grins at something she says. Nodding, "That is quite true." Turning towards the arriving couple, studying each for quite some time it would seem. Looking to his own sister and the knight with her. Bowing his head a bit and smiles before having to turn and greet anyone else wishing them well. But for now, food. Drinking and eating, though keeping his posture. All smiles. "Thank you lord Jast." He offers with a bow of his head as Eric steps forward. Anyone else getting the same gesture.
The eldest daughter of Lord Tyroan Nayland, Steward of Stonebridge, finally gives a small nod to the group who has escorted her and Visenya is left to her own devices, save for the maid who always remains at her side to offer aid. Floating strides bring her toward the table of honor, where she drops down into a graceful curtsey, each movement flawless from years of practice. "Young Lord and Lady Fenster," she speaks softly, but in a tone that will carry. "On behalf of House Nayland of Stonebridge, we offer you congratulations on your marriage. I wish you great joy and longevity in your lives together."
All of these ladies on the arms of such finely appointed lords. Where does it end? With Laryssa, as a matter of fact. Cousin to the bride and recently returned to Broadmoor like her sister, the young woman is usually well-attired, but such an event calls for something more. She wears a pale green gown that shows some shoulder, but bears billowing sleeves and a flowing skirt. Her hair is caught up nicely, save for tendrils expertly and painstakingly made to look like they'd fallen free and landed just so against her cheek or neck. This is Laryssa in her element and she is comfortable, features schooled to hold a gentle half-smile as she makes her way towards the new couple, awaiting a moment of their time. Once able, she offers a soft: "It was a beautiful ceremony. I wish you two all the best, may the Seven guide you." Then, she will depart to the proper seat.
A few steps behind her cousin Lady Muirenn and Lord Brennart, not quite lost in the shuffle, Lady Nedra pauses before the table at which the wedding party is seated to offer her own congratulations. "The ceremony was lovely, best wishes to you both on this beautiful day, Lord and Lady Fenster," she offers with a smile to accompany her words. The press of well wishers flowing toward the wedding party and the their tables sweeps her along and she wanders to a seat near where Lady Muirenn and Lord Brennart are seated.
All of a sudden…the wild twang of a taut string!
…not a bowstring, but the chord of a lute; and a bastard in black velvet bears it. The instrument Maldred Rivers caresses in his arms is quite gaudy and gilt enough to lend brightness even to the hairs and eyes in his pallid, narrow head. And he has put on a smile, too - rather as a jousting champion dons a steel visor.
The Frey by-blow's words of the previous evening might be expected to have earnt him a lonely entrance, but he meanders in with a quite a wake, in fact, behind him. A serving-fellow, plump and clean-favoured, in a tunic of undifferentiated Frey heraldry, bears an object enwrapped, shaped like unto the letter Y, presumably some kind of gift; and further back indeed taps stately and considered, leant upon her cane, a mildly surprising arrival - the Lady Firth Frey, envoy to Stonebridge, with a sole guardian - beside her kin - at her beck.
The sight of Ceinlys in all her majesty elicits a sigh from Ilaria, a sound that carries both fond admiration and a twinge of friendly envy. Her attention is drawn away, however, by the pair approaching the table. She turns her gaze to the lovely vision of Arabella and her companion, offering both a cheerful smile and finally - finally - releasing the deathgrip on her wine in order to accept the rose. She lays the flower across her fingers before raising the bud to her lips to brush a kiss over it. "Thank you, Lady Arabella - goodsister. I could choose no one better for the title. I hope you enjoy yourself this evening. Lord Erik, I bid you welcome again and thank you for attending. Please, help yourself to food and wine, and later to plenty of dancing."
Before she can say more, however, Ilaria is distracted by by the movement on her periphery. She looks up to watch Katrin rise, but offers a warm smile and a kiss to the girl's cheek. "Of course, darling. Mingle, dance, enjoy yourself. You are not confined to my side, I assure you. I will find you later." And then again, another greeting. This time an unfamiliar woman who introduces herself as a Nayland. Ilaria bats her lashes once as she looks Visenya over, but her lips widen into a warm smile and she dips her head in acknowledgement. "Of course, Lady Visenya, and we are honored to receive such a lovely delegate from House Nayland. I bid you welcome, and invite you to partake of the feast and the dancing."
By now, Ilaria's head is beginning to spin. To Laryssa she offers: "Oh, cousin, you look so beautiful today! Thank you, thank you, and the Seven keep you. We shall gossip more in a while, I hope. For now, go eat!" And then to Nedra, "Thank you, my lady, and we are so happy that you were able to attend. Be welcome, and I hope you enjoy yourself to the fullest this evening, Lady Nedra."
Once seated, Aemy allows her gaze to roam, offering a smile in return to Ceinlys and Daryl when they both arrive before looking towards the high table where her cousin and Lord Alric are seated. "We can offer our best wishes after the feast if you like," she speaks softly to the man at her side, leaning in to hear his whisper, tilting her head towards him slightly. At his words, a blush steals over her cheeks and her responding smile is bright and warm. "Mine as well, my lord." When she notices Lady Muirenn and Young Lord Brennart, she nods politely, pleased they were all there together.
"Lets give our formal congratulations first," Daryl decides, as he and Ceinlys near their table he angles towards the head table for a brief detour, still linked with the Steward as his bravado sort of gait lessens in the presence of the newlyweds, out of respect perhaps. "Lord Alric, Lady Ilaria…Congratulations to the both of you," His smile is warm as his gaze shifts from one to the other, "I wish you many happy days to come." Then? He awaits to see if the Steward at his side has anything to add before nodding politely and moving to step back towards the Ashwood table, moving to properly allow Ceinlys to be seated first and then move to sit himself. He catches Robben and Aemy's greetings and offers a half smirk and nod towards the pair, before his attention goes back to the young woman he just sat down with a warm smile and raise of his glass.
Pleased at least that Ilaria is finally saying something other than she is fine, Katrin gives her sister's shoulder a gentle squeeze before she aways to the floor where there is much socializing to be done. She dances between the groups of people gathering together on the tips of her toes, even twirling once with her own delight and pleasure at seeing so many fill the halls of Broadmoor. The red of her gown swirls and sways all around her, flaring out with the spin. But the Haigh has a particular location in mind. And it does not take long for her to alight upon her cousin, Ceinlys, in the company of Ashwoods. "Ceinlys, darling, do promise me that you will not attend my wedding when that day finally comes," is the first thing out of her mouth, but with a smile to soften the words. "For you will far outshine the bride and that is simply unacceptable."
"Lady Aemy, Lord Robben, wasn't the ceremony lovely?" Nedra asks of the two as she is seated herself, smoothing her gown with both hands as she selects a chair and takes the seat. Her attention lifts from Aemy and Robben to smile at her cousin Muir, nodding a greeting to Lord Brennart, but even further her attention lifts in time to spot Lady Firth's arrival. She rises from her chair again almost as soon as she's taken it, excusing herself rom the table so that she may slip through the room, her hands holding the edge of her skirts to the side to avoid bumping into any of the other nobles along the way, and appears at Firth's side sort of like a cork popping free from the crowd. "Lady Firth, it's a delight to see you again. Would you care to sit with us?"
Martyn looks around for a few moments longer now, offering a nod and a smile to Nedra as he spots her, before his gaze goes to the sister of the bride for the moment, following her a bit carefully, before he gets to his feet again now, taking another look around before he heads over in the direction of the newlyweds, offering them both a polite nod and a smile. "Lady Ilaria, Lord Alric. Congratulations to the both of you. I wish the both of you all the happiness the world can bring you."
A warm smile as Alric watches the interaction between his wife and his sister. Studying the different people filtering in then and the Nayland does get a bow of the Fenster's head, "Thank you, my lady." Followed by looking towards the Erenfords and Mallisters, greeting them as well. "Thank you, lady Nedra." Trying to get some to eat in between greetings. Though mostly the food rests untouched. At the arrival of the Freys, Alric keeps his smile and bows his head to Maldred and followed by doing the same to Firth.
At the Ashwood and steward of Broadmoor comes to offer their own congratulations, Alric first grins a bit to Daryl and perhaps remembering something before his smile has much the same warmth. "Thank you. It means a lot." Smiling and bowing to Laryssa as well, though letting his wife offer the thanks on that.
You paged Maldred with 'Oh, did you pose in?! I missed it! *scrolls up*'
There is a moment when Erik helps Bella to her seat that her gaze locks briefly with his and her smile widens considerably. "Thank you, Ser Erik," keeping her voice low, not wanting to disturb the others around them wishing the couple their blessings. When there is a quiet moment, she gently touches her brothers shoulder and quietly wishes him all the best with encouragement while her gaze moves to Ilaria, "Thank you, my lady, you honor me to think so." Now that they are all seated together, she reaches for her own wine goblet, gaze drawn inexorably back to that of the Jast Knight. "It was a lovely wedding, everything has gone perfectly so far."
Firth is dressed as a Frey should be, in softs shades of blue grey silk, with fine gold embroidery. The hem of her gown has twelve inch panels woven with silk and it depicts a forest scene with a hint of the twin towers in the distance. Her moss green eyes have a look of amusement in them. She offers a smile at her half-brother that is warm and it shows her amusement. Her long auburn hair, falls nearly to her waist, stands of gold catches the light and gleam in the heavy thick braid that falls down her back. A gold hair clasp keeps the braid from coming undone. She looks over at Nedra as she speaks to her as her smile gets brighter and she offers her a nod of her head in greeting. "Lady Mallister it is a pleasure to see you again, only if you do not mind my brother joining us?" She comes to a halt. "Brother?" This is said to Maldred.
As Visenya moves off to the side from greeting the newlyweds, her official duty completed, her blue eyes skip around and then come quickly to Arabella and Erik. There's a slight raising of her brows but she steps on down the table to greet them both, or at least the lady of the party. "Lady Arabella, it is such a pleasure to see you again," she greets warmly. "Especially in a much happier setting. I see that you have been fortunate enough to be escorted by such a worthy knight for the day." Her eyes shift to the Jast and she smiles.
"I'm sure they have so many people waiting in line to offer their best wishes, so we should perhaps let a few of the others get to speak with them first," Robben replies with a nod to Aemy, before he smiles at her answer to his whisper. "I'm glad to hear that, my lady." A nod and a smile to Muirenn and Brennart as well, before his attention is taken by Nedra's greeting. "Lady Nedra. How are you today?" he asks, before he offers her a nod and a smile. "It was a beautiful ceremony, yes." Gaze going around the room again, before it goes back to his betrothed now.
Settled in her seat with a goblet of wine and a tiny helping of several of the more interesting dishes, Muirenn watches the crowd of guests. Her face brightens as Nedra seats herself and she leans to give her cousin a hug, "I am so happy to see you dearest! I have missed you! Will you come back to Heronhurst with us?" Glancing around, the young woman's eyes narrow slightly as she glances at her brother.
Since the word has been given to eat, and they've no need of lengthy introductions, announcements, gift-giving and so on those common tables at the far end of the hall set to enjoying themselves. It's not every day the nobles hold a feast after all, so they're largely intent on enjoying it while it's there. Conversation flows easilly enough, especially with the wine flowing as it is.
Having found himself sat besides one of the Haigh's scribes Mortimer spends the first part of the meal in conversation with the man, swopping stories about their respective familes and the antics of their children. Fahers are the same the Riverlands over it seems. Occasionally Faline and Lothar get a glance, but he's positioned himself on the right side of his table so that those checks doesn't actualy require much craning of he head to complete. He's still refusing the wine though, sticking instead to the non-alcoholic alternative.
The pleasantries out of the way to the couple, Laryssa finds her seat and settles in. The smooth expression remains as she watches more nobility enter the hall and make their way for the head table. A slight tightening of her lips occurs upon spotting the bastard, but she covers that by reaching for a goblet of wine and beginning to drink. Slowly, to be certain, but it does seem to be filling her time for the moment as she people watches.
"Indeed it was, My Lady, one could only hope that theirs is the same when the time comes." Erik says with a pleasant smile offered to Arabella before reaching for his own cup of wine take a sip. When the Nayland-Goodbrook lady approaches though, the Jast Knight recognizes her immediately. "Lady Goodbrook, I am pleased to see that you are able to attend this event and that you are looking very well. Also, we at Highfield would like to give you our most sincere thank you for your assistance at the camp. Your healing touch was much appreciated and needed."
Exchanging a quick hug with Muirenn before she'd slipped away from the table again, "I'm quite well, thank you for asking, Lord Robben," she had replied as well. Muirenn's question makes Nedra's answering smile hold a fine edge of relief as she nods, "I'd really like that," she admits. "Staying in only one place for weeks on end tends to make me a bit antsy," she says with a wry glimpse of a smile before she'd ducked through the room to where Lady Firth and Ser Maldred are standing.
Nedra shakes her head slightly, "Please, call me Nedra," she asks in a quieter voice, her words pitched to carry to Firth without shouting to the room at large, "every time you say Lady Mallister I glance over my shoulder to see if my mother is standing there," she admits with a laugh. Firth's question, in return, causes Nedra's attention to sweep past Firth to Maldred to whom she gives a look that is curious and mildly wary before she nods. "But of course," said even as she'd glanced at Maldred curiously, her attention shifting back to Firth, "if he doesn't mind our company as well."
Actually, in the wake of Daryl's effortlessly polite words to the bride and groom, the ebon-tressed woman on his arm simply offers a knowing smile between the pair, not bothering to further their headspins with an additional repetition. We'll catch up later, that look seems to say, before she dips an elegant curtsey and allows the young Lordling to guide her toward a table with the other Ashwoods, offering a nod and a smile graciously toward her cousin and Robben in passing. The short train of her dress sweeps across the boards lightly with every step, and it's with apparent relief that the young lady eases down to the chair Daryl draws for her, murmuring her thanks as he likewise seats himself by her side. In short order, there's a goblet of wine in hand. Nothing unusual there.
As Katrin approaches the table, though, the Steward quarter-turns in her chair to better face her young cousin, a warm smile offered without hesitation. "Katrin! Don't be so ridiculous, you look fabulous, as always. Besides, if anyone threatened to outshine you, I would have them strung up by their toes for the insult. So worry not. Will you sit?" A gesture indicates the seat to her other side. After all, who better to mingle with than this table of beautiful creatures?
This is a time for strings, now swords, and Maldred's lute comes naturally to rest where an instrument more dire would usually be settled, slung across his back. His tongue, for once, is quieter, and he lets his…sister's rackety gait overtakes him as he considers the field, scanning it as if waiting…for some new incursion.
Ilaria catches Ceinlys' gaze - the slight nod, the smile, the curtsey - and responds with an understanding smile of her own. Thankfully for the young girl, the traffic around the high table is beginning to lighten as grumbling stomachs and thirsty mouths venture to their own seats to dig into the repast. Ilaria relaxes visibly, leaning back in her seat and taking a lazy sip from her goblet. She spares a glance toward her husband, and her lips move silently as she mouths the word to herself, testing it out in her head. From her expression, the result is at best awkward.
The bride shifts her attention toward the gathering once more, and the sight of a nimble lute-bearing man catches her attention. Ilaria leans in toward Alric, touching his arm with her hand before gesturing vaguely in Maldred's direction. "Your friend has arrived, my lord, and in the company of a Frey retinue." There is a certain sense of cat-got-the-canary from the combined effect of her voice and the amused quirk to her mouth.
The bastard is roused from this apparent abstraction by the extraordinary…is that…caution? Even deference? from that daughter of eagles, Lady Nedra Mallister. "My apologies, my lady…I missed your courtesy. I have been somewhat startled by the an eruption of more unexpected kinswomen than my lute has notes. Its fault, of course, not theirs…"
She is late obviously, later than most of her kin even. Entering the Lord's Hall through its immense double doors, Lyanna beams however as she quickly realizes that she might be late, but not too late. Clad in a beautiful dress of blue and grey, with the pattern of the Frey sigil echoed in a silver thread, her hair of course orderly arranged after the hurried ride from the Twins into a snail at the back of her head, secured with pins of silver, the Frey Ambassador to Highfield pauses for a moment to cast a glance about the hall before she spots her aunt Firth and even her bastard cousin/uncle Maldred, and swiftly joins them to form what is known as a Frey delegation. "Aunt Firth. Cousin Maldred. I rode as swiftly as I could. I am glad to see you are in good health, the both of you. Have you already offered the good wishes of our House?"
Looking up when she is greeted, Bella reaches out her hand to gently squeeze the other lady's, pleasure lighting her eyes. "It is wonderful indeed, my lady. Your help was quite irreplaceable at the camp. Perhaps I could study with you for a time, if you would allow?" The mention of her escort is giving a quick lifting and lowering of her brows, "He is quite a knight," sharing a quick and teasing glance with Erik.
Leaning on her cane, Firth looks at Maldred. "Apple Brandy I think for both of us, after we say our greetings." This is said in a low soft voice to him. Then she looks to Nedra. "Nedra, it is then. You may call me Firth or Meredith as it pleases you. I would be honored to sit with you. Lady Nedra Mallister, may I have the pleasure of introducing you to my niece, Lyanna Frey." She turns her head to look at her niece. "You look very lovely my dear and I pray that you are well from your travels? We have not had the pleasure as we have just arrived. We are working our way towards doing that very thing."
Daryl lifts his mug up for a sip and settles comfortably in his seat, a look towards Erik then, a raised grin and a quick shake of his head. He seems amused if anything, leaning over to speak a few words quietly before he turns and notices Lyanna's arrival, offering a smile towards her and then looking to Ceinlys beside. "Well, it seems your planning has gone quite smoothly. Look at Lady Ilaria, how happy she is with it all." Merely idle talk for now as the man peers about, taking in everyones location and current activity while remaining silent for the most part.
Seated near the other Erenfords, and Ashwoods and the Mallisters now, Aemy tries to keep up with the flow of the conversation as it dances around her. Rising, she greets Nedra with a hug when she comes near, agreeing with Muirenn. "It would be lovely to see you in Heronhurst again." Retaking her seat, her vivid blue eyes rest once more on her betrothed, happiness fairly emanating off her. "I think you are right, my lord."
"Something a touch more potent, at this late, my lady," Maldred mutters gracelessly back in his sister's general direction. "And I've both respects and a present to deliver, if our sweet bride and her groom's kin let me weave quite close enough. But besides…we are not yet gathered. Not fully." His smile carries the bitter glee of privy knowledge.
It's with only the subtlest of pauses that Nedra replies to Maldred with: "These things happen, Ser Maldred, and it is such a rather large crush of people, but a lovely crowd for a lovely day." Deference, no. Wise and wary caution with regard to the oft sunny disposition of Ser Maldred? yes. Her attention shifts back toward Firth, a smile forming on her face again as she nods, "Wonderful," is murmured before introductions are made and she aims another smile toward Lyanna. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Lyanna," she says, offering a curtsy that is somewhat hampered by the flow of brightly dressed nobles, "I'll save seats for all of you at our table," she offers as she straightens. A glance over her shoulder to the table where the wedding party is seated allows her a glimpse into the brief lull between well wishes and the happy bride and groom. "If you go now you may have a chance to say a word or two before being trampled," she suggests with a glimpse of a grin then waves one hand to where Lady Muirenn and Lord Brennart are seated adjacent to Lady Aemy and Lord Robben. "I'll see all of you in a moment," she offers before weaving through the crowd again.
A last nod is given to Ceinlys before she turns to move along with Daryl. Having caught that look from her as well most likely. Though before he can do much more, other than try to start to eat, he feel the touch from Ilaria. Leaning in to listen and it does bring a grin on his face. "So I've noticed." Eyes going to Maldred and taking him in, though seeing as the man for once opted to wait with remarks and stay close to his sister, Alric is only watching him for a moment. Bowing his head to Maldred if he does offer a look his way. "I will have the time to greet him soon enough." He speaks in a low tone to Ilaria. Perhaps a slightly amused look that does show in his eyes at that. Though he also do grant a warm look to Ilaria both for her words and her current mood at that. Sharing it perhaps.
Soon after Alric does offer a touch to Ilaria's arm before rising to stand and lifting his goblet. "If I may," More to gain attention than an actual question. His voice rising and carrying through the hall. "It is a joyous occasion that we do gather, as perhaps clear in the looks of all the people here. So to you all I wish to thank all for the well wishing as well as for everyone to gather during this event. So thank you!" He calls out and will take a sip from his goblet, "Now, mingle and joy all of it. The merrier the better." He finishes before reclaiming his seat and smiling to Ilaria.
Having offered his best wishes for the happy couple now, Martyn looks around the room again. Heading over in Muirenn's direction now, his smile widening a bit as he moves to give her a brief hug, should she let him. "My dear sister," he offers to her with a smile now. "You look quite beautiful." Turning a bit as he Nedra arrives as well, he offers her a smile. "And you as well, cousin. Everything's well with the two of you, I hope?"
The compliment given by Arabella has Erik grinning in amusement at the Fenster Lady before he turns his attention to Daryl who approaches from Ilaria's side of the table to whisper some words. Some words are whispered back before he lets the Deputy return to the Lady Ceinlys. The Jast Knight then remains quiet as more people continue to speak to the Lord and Lady of the day, sipping at his wine for now, eyes continue to study the gathering of nobles.
Ilaria's aren't the only eyes to land upon Maldred.. or his companions. Though Ceinlys' glacial hues are decidedly less sweetened by wine and recent matrimony. For a long moment, she studies the Frey bastard with his lute, then moves onward to Lyanna. Well, she gets a smile, whether she notices it or not. The other one, she has yet to encounter, and so her attention doesn't linger overlong, returning with polite haste to her cousin.
The chatter around the Ashwood table elicits a softer smile, as Ceinlys briefly regards the exchanges between the Fenster lady and Highfield's gallant Sheriff, missing nothing over the rim of her goblet as she takes a slow sip of wine. As the Deputy speaks with her directly once more, the raven-haired woman chuckles and nods, following his gaze to the high table, and her radiant little cousin. "I am glad. She is deserving of every happiness the Seven would bestow upon her. As shall be Katrin, when her day comes." It's not an afterthought, either. She seems to genuinely believe it, looking aside to the aforementioned with a quirked brow. Still, she's distracted again as Daryl offers her a whispered remark, meeting his gaze and nodding gently in assent.
Rainwashed blue eyes follow her cousin Nedra as she discourses with the Frey bastard. Internally the girl just gives a little sigh but the smile upon her face is a pleasant one. Her brother approaches and Muirenn turns her attention to hime with a rose-pink smile, "My brother dearest!" That he came to see her is obviously pleasing. Extending her arms, she gives Martyn an embrace. "It is so good to see you! We have invited cousin Nedra to Heronhurst after the festivities when we return home, would you care to accompany us?"
Though quiet words are exchanged with those seated near to her, Laryssa is awash in an ocean. The young woman has often preserved observation in such situations as this. So many people, so many words being passed, so many expressions to capture. To her, it is like observing a play. Certainly she may have a few drinks to her name now, but she's wearing it well. Her gaze may linger longer upon some than others, but Laryssa is doing a fairly good job of keeping those subtle.
"But Ceinlys, how could you string yourself up?" Katrin asks teasingly as she sits at the table. "For you always outshine everyone you are in the company of. That gold is simply divine on you." She looks back in the direction of Ilaria and Alric. "I am pleased that the wedding went off so well. Thank you for everything you did for Ilaria, Cein."
"There is no thanks necessary, Sheriff," Visenya responds to Erik with a shake of her dark head. "It is what any healer should have done in the wake of such devastation. I only wish that we could have done more in order to save…" She shakes her head again. "No saddened thoughts here," she muses. But she smiles to Bella. "If you would wish it, I would be glad for it, Lady Arabella," she replies.
Ilaria is startled, but only momentarily so, as Alric rises up beside her. For a moment she believes him to be leaving, and turns back to focus on picking apart her supper. With a subtle wave of her hand, she summons forth the young girl hovering behind her seat to refill her goblet with red wine. The Fenster's voice booming throughout the hall, however, gives her pause, and she stares up at Alric with a radiant expression that some might read as devotion - although to those who know her it probably smacks of 'drunk'. When he resumes his seat, she reaches out to clasp Alric's hand in her own, leaning forward as he whispers something in her ear. Her response is a light laugh and a compliment: "Quick thinking, my lord. We have a moment to eat now."
Some esoteric discourse between bastard Frey and cadet Mallister, indeed, made up of false apologies and courtly suspicion…Maldred Rivers makes an end of it with a deep, solemn, nod, and no move to follow his sisters to sit among the other nobles, hanging back with lute slung quiet and tongue tucked away, and only eyes dartingly attentive. It's almost as if he has learnt his station…were it not that the servant with the gift sticks strictly beside him, and that the bastard's own gaze keeps harking ahead - to the bride at the dais - and back - over his right shoulder to the hall's gates.
Lyanna smiles at Firth's pleasant words of greeting. "I thank you, Aunt Firth. I departed later from the Twins than I had expected. It was a long and hurried ride, a pleasurable one, had I not feared to arrive too late to join the festivities." As she lets her gaze wander again, she spots Daryl, nods from afar as their eyes meet. Then as the Mallister lady greets her with perhaps surprising courtesy, Lyanna returns the kind greeting with a curtsey. "Lady Nedra. I am pleased to make your acquaintance." As her deep blue eyes wander over the gathered guests they come to linger on Ceinlys, the former Haigh that she knows from Highfield. Her smile is returned, of course, accompanied by a slight incline of her head. A similar greeting is offered to Muirenn from afar, as she spots her, should that Mallister lady's gaze meet her own.
Robben smiles a bit as he listens, leaning back a bit in his seat. He smiles a bit as Nedra heads back again towards them, before he looks between the others for now. "I will be looking forward to seeing more of Heronhurst again. It's quite a lovely place," he offers with a bit of a smile, before he looks back to Aemy as well now. "Can I get you anything, my lady?"
The Freys have this day executed a classic bait-and-switch manoeuvre. For whilst all eyes — or most eyes — or at any rate the eyes by which it is reckoned most advantageous to be seen — have been upon the convocation of the fair Lyanna and Firth and the foul Maldred, the eldest of their kin presently at large in the Riverlands has sidled in by some other door. Or has she been here all along? For during Lady Jaimera Trant's sojourn at Broadmoor, it has often been the fate of those who supposed she was not present, to hear a word from her as though out of the aether, or to find afterwards that she knew all that had been said. (Most recently, however, she has kept her chamber, in the grip of an unspecified illness which has required a diet of raw and bloody red meat, and as much fresh reading material as her servants could scrape up out of all the most obscure corners of the keep.)
As the Frey contingent descends upon the high table, the Frey ambassadress to Broadmoor appears at their head, a small erect figure in a black silk gown dotted with her usual golden accoutrements, with a proprietary (nay, condescending!) nod for her juniors, and a formal greeting for the newlyweds.
"My lord and lady of Fenster, you have upon this most auspicious day the sincere felicitations of my house. May the Seven shower you with as many blessings as there are dishes upon this quite remarkable festal board." One of her quick little hands beckons forth the serving-man who entered with her nephew and niece; at a second, less patient gesture, he holds up the Y-shaped object he has borne carefully into the hall, as though in valediction of Lady Ilaria: "A small token," the lady Jaimera intones, "which I hope you will find of use, Ilaria, in your new life."
Daryl nods faintly towards Erik then, "After," he says with a pleasant enough smile, then chuckling towards Katrin and offering a brief nod, "Doesn't she?…I feel like i'm simply blocking her light." There's a light chuckle before the Ashwood indulges in another long sip. He seems to be enjoying himself for the most part, and despite his flashy entrance, he seems content to just relax and blend in with the group around him for now. There's a look towards the couple at the head table, a small wink shot towards Alric and then the Ashwood's gaze briefly flicks towards Robben and Aemy. "…Love weddings," he asides towards the Steward beside him with a playful smirk before moving to put back more alcohol in steadier swigs, not gulping but past sipping.
"Brother I have to agree with you." Firth say. She then looks back to Lyanna and she whispers something into the girl's ear. She then smiles brightly and straightens herself up as she just watches and observes for the moment. She pauses and she watches and listens as her oldest sister speaks and offers her houses salutations and congratulations on the nuptials.
Alric grins and nods, "Indeed. That was my thought." He tells Ilaria with a wink. Continuing to drink from his own goblet. If he notices the look from Maldred to Ilaria and that whole interaction, he does only show a little as his brow raises. Leaning in to whisper before eyes go towards Jaimera, "Thank you, my lady." He offers with a bow of his head and letting it shift between her and Ilaria before leaning back a bit. As for that wink from Daryl, it seems to cause small grin but not much more for now.
"I'm not sure if I will be able to travel with you back to Heronhurst, but I will make sure to come visist as soon as I can," Martyn promises, before he offers a quiet smile. "I promise I will come visit very soon." A brief pause as he looks around to offer smiles and nods to all at the table now.
"I would be honored if you would teach me, my lady," Bella says simply, looking between Erik and Daryl as they speak together, slowly sipping her wine, unaware it keeps getting topped off by attentive servants. There is a brief time when she just allows herself to look at the sheer masses assembled, hearing the different conversations before she looks back at Erik, a question in her gaze as she leans in to speak quietly with him. Her dinner remains untouched.
As any good noblewoman should, Ceinlys accepts the compliments with a mere smile and a modest shake of her head.. but no further arguments. Daryl's quip earns him a sardonic sidelong glance, though, before she permits a soft laugh. "Not in that outfit, m'lord." It's so rare to see the Ashwood Deputy out of his armors.. unless you happen to be a wench frequenting the Ash and Oak, perhaps. Swirling her wine slowly within its cup, the Steward relaxes and looks out over the crowd, if anything seeming a little restless already. "I hope they begin the dancing, soon." Looking to Katrin, she grins slightly, before disguising it with a sip. "Have your eye on any suitable partners, cousi? Preferably ones not wearing overly heavy boots?" Jaimera's arrival draws her eye for a moment; though having been aware of her aunt's residence within the Keep she's a little less startled than some by the sudden flash and flair of a practiced courtier.
Shooting Jaimera a glance that expresses less warmth but rather a mixture of respect and an awareness of creepy stories she has heard through her childhood of her dear aunt, Lyanna nods to the words that are offered by the Frey Ambassador to Broadmoor and makes a deep curtsey to the newlyweds. As she straightens, she hears Firth's whisper and chuckles lightly, as her gaze find Ceinlys once again, although the expression in her deep blue eyes seems to be a wary one.
"There are many here who might make able dance partners, Cein," Katrin replies lightly to her cousin as she lets her gaze roam over the room, resting on different people. That gaze does linger a little longer over Martyn but it does move onward, perhaps with some regret to have to do such a thing. "But perhaps if you might be willing to share, a dance with the Lord Ashwood at some point this evening would be marvelous. But that would be later in the evening, I believe. After he has warmed up and already gotten used to not trodding on his partner's feet."
The moment Lady Trant of Gallowsgrey (or Jaimera Frey to the uninitiated) has finished her piece, and the servant presented his still enigmatic tribute, the bastard of the Crossing joins his…lady aunt, with a few surprisingly graceful stries, for all their hurried magnitude, and offers his arm, with the restrained, but slightly savage humility of some otterhound expecting soon to be granted leave for a fresh drive.
Aemy catches that look from Daryl. Again. Something was off, and it was.. odd. Studiously now, she avoids looking towards him at all, instead she focuses on those at the table she is seated at. Leaning in, she speaks softly to Robben for just a moment, perhaps replying to the question he asks of her, followed by, "It would be a pleasure showing you around again."
A sonorous laughter resounds from the corner, where an idle musician shares a word with a new arrival. Garion has brought his bold smile, as well as his frills around the sleeves of his worn but cherished midnight blue doublet. He put's his hand jovially at the fellow musician's shoulder (who does not seem to be a whit puzzled by the confidential gesture) before he turns with straightened shoulders to the company. The minstrel does not mind to look at the commoners too long, for many, many juicy nobles seem to linger around. Among them even a few familiar faces.
The damp weather or an exhausting journey have washed a few streaks of his light brown hair into his face. With a often practiced movement they find their way back to a more flattering position, as he walks to catch the Freys on their way back from the couple, waiting in a position where he could be caressed by as many eyes as possible.
Visenya chuckles with delight. "It would be my pleasure, Lady Arabella. I will be returning to Stonebridge once the dust has settled here in Broadmoor but you might write to me there and we could arrange a time," she suggests. "I do look forward to it a great deal." She smiles and dips down into a curtsey. "But I will detain you no longer. There are just so many to see on a day like today. Enjoy yourself, Bella." With a cheerful grin, she heads off, brushing back a dark strand of hair as she looks around for other people to crash in to.
"You may be waiting quite some time for that particular miracle, sweetling." chuckles Ceinlys, in regard to Daryl and his big man feet. "But I would certainly allow you the opportunity, if you're feeling brave." For more reasons than one. Pausing as the Ashwood himself leans in again to murmur in her ear, the Steward twists her lips in a slight smirk, taking a deliberate and unhurried sip of wine before briefly turning her head to reply in tones equally hushed. Whatever the exchange is, they both seem to find it humorous.
Setting her goblet into one hand as she reclines a little deeper in her chair, surveying the chamber at large, the young lady absently shakes aside the tendrils of ebon hair framing her jaw and throat. For now, her expression lapses to one of musing, particularly as she catches the change in Lyanna's expression. How odd. But she's used to people occasionally looking at her as if expecting to be torn apart by voracious wolves at any moment. Such is life.
Having abandoned the half-hearted pursuit of her food, Ilaria pushes her plate forward on the table in a subtle request for its removal. Separating from the shadows behind the bride's seat, her personal serving girl plucks up the plate and utensils and wipes free of crumbs the half-circle of linen-lined tabletop before her mistress. All of this occurs without half so much as a second's worth of attention from Ilaria, who is instead spreading liberally her attention upon the sea of glittering nobility scattered amongst the tables. Here and there familiar faces draw her gaze, and if met she offers a gentle curve of her lips in greeting.
Only when Jameira proceeds toward the table with the stately posture of a queen does the girl cease her mental meandering and focuses sharply upon the Frey. As Ilaria leans forward in her seat, her dark hair spills over her shoulders and frames her face in soft chocolate waves. The serving girl at her elbow leans in to whisper two words into the new-minted Fenster's ear, drawing forth an understanding smile. "Lady Jameira, you honor us with your presence, and we are most pleased that you have chosen to attend. Please extend to your lord our deepest gratitude for such felicitation and for this gift." Swimming in the viridian depths of her gaze is a glimmer of interest that flickers to life and reveals itself as she follows the gift with her eyes. Her eyebrows arch upward, and she gestures to the empty space before her upon which the oddly-shaped item may be placed.
"Well I didn't want to bring you down," Daryl counters towards Ceinlys, eyeing his garbs and rolling his eyes a touch. "This is on the verge of ridiculous…So it's fitting." A toothy grin, and he arches a brow towards Katrin then as she makes that offer, almost warily. She did lay the smack down on him not to long ago. "…M'lady, I believe I get progressively worse as the night progresses. Has something to do with the wine intake." A small laugh though he does eye the woman, as if he was waiting for another smack across the face. Women enjoyed hitting him. A look back to Ceinlys then and he moves to pour himself more drink. "Better get some liquid courage in me then, for when it starts." Like he needed anymore than he naturally had. He tilts his head to hear Ceinlys' quiet words with a small smirk.
Without anyone overly chatty nearby, Laryssa has had no difficulty finishing her meal. She's spent a moment draining her goblet once more. Once it is full again, she has found somewhat of courage and makes her excuses, rising to her feet and taking a wide circuit of the hall. Her eventual goal does seem to be the table the Ashwoods are settled at, but the young woman is taking her time getting there. Offering small greetings and kind words to familiar faces as she mingles her way through.
With a nod to her brother, Muirenn's long fingers curl about the stem of her glass. Lifting it, she gives the wine a bit of a sniff before taking a sip. Leaning towards her cousin, she speaks in a low voice "My Lord Brennart, I am rather impressed at the number gathered here, however, I think I am developing a bit of a headache. I think perhaps in a little while I shall take one of the guards and return to the Inn to pack and rest for the return journey. It shall be a long one."
Pausing for a few moments as he hears Aemy's words, Robben turns to look over in Daryl's direction for a little while, raising an eyebrow as he looks over towards his cousin. Shaking his head a little, after a few moments, he looks back to Aemy, offering her another smile. "I'm really looking forward to that," he offers. Lowering his voice to whisper back to her now.
"In that case, cousin, perhaps I shall offer you first refusal. I'd hate for your dainty little toes to be flattened." Teasing Katrin cheerfully, quite at ease in the present company of her kin and allies, Ceinlys arches a brow in silent expectation before adding, "Besides, it will give me yet more time to.. numb the imminent pain." By way of explanation, she takes the pitcher smoothly from Daryl's hand and tops up her own goblet, then proferring it toward Katrin, should she desire more too.
As a thought seems to occur, sobering the young ladys features just a fraction. Tilting her head, she leans in to murmur something quietly to her equally dark-haired cousin.
The rumblings of possible dancing start to make their way down towards the low tables, causing a few of the assembled smallfolk to hurriedly start clearing their plates or downing their drink. The drink may keep flowing once floor space is cleared but the food will be les easy to come by after all. Mortimer, for his share, is now politely listening to young and enthusiastic armsman's tales of glory and valor in relation to the recent fight for Stonebridge. He keeps his own feelings on that to himself for a bit, letting the boy have his moment, although the idea of being able to move around and pick and choose his conversation partners is becoming distinctly appealing.
Is that a deeper breath drawn in through Lady Trant's elegant nostrils as her bastard hound arrives at his accustomed mark, to her right and a few circumspect inches behind? She finds Ser Maldred's arm without looking for it; but scarcely has she curled her hand about it than she transfers her fingers to the back of the elbow and gives the arm in question a shove forward.
"Unwrap it for her, why don't you." It isn't particularly a suggestion. For she has seen the speculative glint in the young bride's eye, and she feels, with an odd charity, that the poor girl ought to be given *some* amusement at her wedding feast.
"I am sure that there have been far worse than you, Lord Daryl," Katrin replies with a smile. "But your pleasing face and glib words shall surely make up for it," she muses. Her eyes twinkle with her own personal delight. She looks at Ceinlys as she whispers into her ear, head tilting to the side. Her gaze sharpens slightly as she leans in to reply in kind.
Nodding a little to Muirenn, Martyn offers her another bit of a smile, before he looks a bit concerned at the mention of a headache. "A headache?" he asks, after a few moments of pause, before he lowers his voice to offer something quietly to her.
Alric chuckles at something and his gaze continuing to just jump around the crowd. Seeing Ilaria pushing her food away and he offers a reassuring smile, perhaps understanding at how hard it is to actually start on eating, especially seeing her drinking quite a bit. Eyes not really staying too long on people, other than perhaps being a bit intrigued by what lady Jaimera brought.
If it isn't quite a bark the anointed knight of the Crossing gives in response to his aunt's command, it certainly isn't interpretable in the Common Tongue. Before a moment passes Maldred is immediately before the dais, and as his hands go hurtling to the gift's silken surroundings - in plain Frey grey, if of costly stuff - his head bows near low enough to brush beside the bride's sweeping, but ordered braids.
And then the bastard has a blade in his hand again. What he bears, what his aunt brought, are two long, steel, shearing secateurs. They shine just like those cold Frey eyes, as Maldred humbly presents them hilt first to the bride.
Having just refilled her cup, Ceinlys now makes no bones about raising it for a far longer swig than her genteel little sips of before, licking her lips carefully free of any remnants before answering those seated beside her. With a 'one moment' look of apology to Katrin, it's to Daryl that she offers her first answer, smirking wryly at him from beneath dark lashes. Propping one elbow on the table's edge, she keeps her wine-cup raised just enough to partially obscure her expression from most onlookers. In the wake of a few whispered words, she holds the young man's gaze for a long moment, before slowly turning back to her cousin, still half-chuckling, and offering a quiet murmur to her, in turn. Women and their gossip, Seven help us all…
Hearing her aunt Jaimera's words, Lyanna's gaze wanders from Alric and Ilaria, whom she spares an especially pleasant smile, to the gift in question. The way she gnaws on her lower lip expectantly and leans slightly forward to get a better view of it suggests she has not the slightest idea of its contents. As does the look of surprise in her eyes as she stares at what her cousin Maldred has unwrapped.
"For your sewing," the Lady Jaimera explains, nodding to the shears, "and any other occasion upon which, during the performance of your wifely duties, you come across something which urgently requires cutting."
Firth watches from here she stands with her hands on her cane she just takes everything in. Including the exchange of gifts. She is quiet for the moment as she watches. Her gaze lingers for a moment on the dancing before it comes back to Kin and the presentation of the gift.
Daryl looks across towards Robben, giving a friendly incline of his head in response with a wide, winning grin. He chuckles lightly before nodding towards Katrin then, "Very well, though…Don't say I didn't warn you." Perhaps he had some payback planned. Or he's just not feeling too comfortable in those new boots. As the pitcher is taken from him, he raises a brow towards Ceinlys with an amused grin. "Hey. Not a smart thing to do when it comes to me…I'll…" The Ashwood pauses then as he hears the words ushered back from Ceinlys, and he replies in kind with a growing smirk, soon lifting his drink to mask it, putting the rest of it away easily before moving to claim that pitcher back. There's another snicker and look across towards Robben and Aemy.
Hunting… hunting… Visenya cuts through the crowd without a care in the world. A goblet of wine is mostly untouched in her hand, used mostly as a prop and something to do with her hands as she pauses here and there to make conversation with those of her acquaintance. Halfway through the large hall, she pauses, however, gaze shifting toward Daryl as he sits in relaxation amongst his kin and others. She lets it linger there, perhaps even catching his eyes, before it skips onward, as if nothing had ever happened. Her pace resumes. It's hard to know what ever passes through the mind of Visenya Goodbrook, given her mastery of the celebrated 'You will never be able to guess what I am thinking' face.
For some reason, Katrin's face scrunches up as if she's suddenly smelled something foul. All pretense of light-hearted joking aside, she leans in, whispering to Ceinlys. She's forgotten everything else for the moment.
The corners of Ilaria's eyes crinkle, and she barks out a sudden, unexpected laugh that no doubt sounds borderline shrill and sharp to the tender ears that might surround her. The ubiquitous Maldred seems nearly to materialize from the air, and not a moment later is he propelled toward her table. Ilaria's response is to lean back a bit and watch with some trepidation as the man deftly peels back the silk wrapping to reveal—well, indeed. Scissors?
Automatically, the Fenster bride reaches out as the hilt is presented to her, slipping her slender, pale fingers about the cold, shining steel. The tip of her thumb traces over the subtle and intricate scrollwork along the outward edge of one part of the handle, and then she spreads her fingers wide. The blades open with a quiet but all too pleasing 'shick', the sound of which punctuates the lull of the bastard Frey's whisper. Ilaria's bright eyes widen - and widen more - and then dart to her side to catch sight of Alric on her periphery.
"These are of beautiful make," Ilaria murmurs, and in full view of those who may be looking, she tests the scissors' mettle by cutting along the hem of the grey silk cloth. It parts beneath the onslaught like a hot knife slides through butter. "They are perfect, my lady. Ser Maldred. Thank you" Hmm. Her subsequent smile is sly as she relinquishes the gift, returns it to its bed of silk, and signals her maid to take them away.
Looking towards her brother, Muirenn gives Martyn a fierce hug and brushes a kiss to his cheek. His words are considered and then she discreetly replies. A tender pat to his cheek and a mischevious poke to his ribs token a comment not entirely upseting.
Nedra's trip through the room had been somewhat longer than originally intended, but there's nothing to be done for it when one encounters old friends of one's mother. Nedra may be many things, but reasonably wary of her mothers displeasure tops the list 9 times out of time, or more realistically 10 times out of ten. Finally extracting herself from the round robin of greetings, best wishes, idle conversation encompassing the weather, the food, the wedding, the music, the reception and quite likely the price of tea someplace far fetched and bizarre, Nedra returns to the table at which she had briefly been seated. "This is quite the occasion, isn't it," she says as she draws a chair and seats herself facing Lady Aemy and Lord Robben, quite coincidentally interfering with Lord Daryl's line of sight. Alas, these things just happen some times. She nods at Martyn, seeing her cousin hugging Muirenn as she reaches for a goblet to pour a bit of watered wine into.
Alric is smiling and looking to Ilaria and to the gift as it is revealed. "Thank you, my lady. It is quite nice of you indeed. As you, ser Maldred." He offers as he thought it seemed like quite a pleasant gift for his wife. Studying to see what Ilaria actually thought of it. Resting a hand on hers if she allows. Though noticing Maldred movement and perhaps just shooting the man a more stern look before it softens as he looks back to Ilaria.
Right, the dancing has started so thats Mortimer's cue to politely excuse himself from the rather one-sided conversation, refill his tankard and find a quiet bit of wall to lean against and watch proceedings from. It's far more of a normal situation for him and he seems to be relaxing a little as his eyes slowly scan the room. It's almost like pickpocket watch on market day infact, only now hes not looking for trouble, just keeping half an eye on the Terricks present awhile watching the ebb and flow of conversations and groupings.
Ceinlys chokes slightly on her wine as Jaimera's voice drifts across the clamour of the hall, of the chatter and music. Maybe she was listening too closely, in spite of the numerous discussions taking place around her. But something plainly strikes her as entertaining, in the words. Regaining her composure with admirable determination, she dabs at her lips with a napkin and glances down to ensure her dress remains unmarred. Good. While Daryl's further words earn him another of those sidelong glances, it's to Katrin that most of Ceinlys' attention goes, their discreet conversation still ongoing. Whatever her cousin has uttered has her suddenly laughing again, enough that she briefly has to cover her lips with her free hand, trembling with mirth. Quite unlike her. Eventually though, she composes herself enough to reply, shaking her head.
Drifting past a distant relative Laryssa goes after a few kind words, approaching where the likes of Daryl, Ceinlys, and Katrin sit. She's holding a goblet in one hand, but has only imbibed enough to avoid risk of spilling. Thus far, at least. And that's only since leaving her own table. "Mind if I join you all? I tire of tales of days past and would rather think of the present and future."
Oh sweet relief as it comes across Katrin's face. She gives Ceinlys a smile and squeezes her cousin's arm gently with a nod. Bu she continues with her whispering, pausing as she looks up and sees Laryssa. "Of course, cousin. Come and sit," she invites. "I do hope that you enjoyed the wedding."
Nodding to Muirenn's hug and kiss to the cheek, Martyn listens with a nod to what she says. Looking about to say something, he pauses a bit at that poke to his ribs, shaking his head a little bit. "Didn't expect that poke," he offers, with a chuckle now. "I will let him know, and no, we would not want her to descend on anywhere in wrath." Turning to offer a nod and a smile to Nedra again now. "Cousin. I hope you are well?" There's a pat to Muirenn's shoulder for a few moments as well now.
Daryl glances about the room then as the whispering Haigh's do their thing. Looking right, he catches Visenya's gaze and offers a small nod and smile to the left…Laryssa. A widening grin from Daryl and he mimics Katrin's invite, gesturing for her to sit. Three Haighs. Brilliant. No doubt that wine of his is lifted for another long slurp. " How are you, M'lady?" He queries of Laryssa, suddenly feeling outnumbered. There's a look around…Where the hell is that Jast knight? And finally, a glance at Katrin. Curious, perhaps.
"Shall we join Lady Nedra?" Firth asks those in her party with kind smile. She offers a slight inclination of her head to those who are seated at the table on the raised dais. She then starts to slowly moves in the direction of the table. She looks over her shoulder to see if any of her family are joining her.
"You are most welcome, child." The Frey lady whose aged ferret-face has hardly moved throughout this exchange, despite the mirth it has provoked in more distant quarters of the hall, gives one last firm nod to the bridal couple and withdraws, carrying her family in her wake.
Now fully in control of herself once more, the laughter fought back down, Ceinlys likewise looks up to greet Laryssa with a subtle smile and a nod, waving her toward an empty chair. "Absolutely. Have a seat." She's distinctly more welcoming, when warmed with wine.. and yes, poor Daryl really should be afraid. With a last mutter aside toward Katrin, the Steward politely returns herself to the conversation of the table as a whole. It's amusing to be seated beside a man who attracts so many eyes, for varying reasons of course, but still. Toying with a curling tendril of her long hair where it brushes at her collarbone, the elder Haigh daughter lapses, for a moment, into the respite of merely people-watching.
Another sip of wine and Muirenn absently turns the goblet. Moments pass and then she bends towards Brennart and says softly, "I think I shall excuse myself if you do not mind my lord cousin? Do you wish to stay longer?"
With the gift having been presented, Lyanna follows her kin to the table where Nedra is seated, and takes a seat beside the Mallister lady. Noticing Aemy and Robben now for the first time this evening, she inclines her head with genuine delight. "Lady Aemy, Lord Robben. What a pleasure to see you at this feast. You seem to be in good spirits, thank the Seven!" A shadow seems to pass over her features as she remembers the last festivity which they attended, of a much less joyful kind.
At the greeting from cousin and Deputy both, Laryssa slides into a seat with careful arrangement of her skirts. She takes a drink of her wine and offers a smile towards Katrin. "I did, as a matter of course. Your sister was radiant." With their earlier exchange having gone well for the most part and wine warming her soul, Laryssa's able to offer a smile towards Daryl that is not put on in the least. "Well, m'Lord. Shall I be looking forward to a dance later, or will you spend the entire time with the Lady Ceinlys?" A soft tease- certainly not with the bite that she offers of many. And it's a good thing the Jast is away in the company of those at the high table, else Laryssa might feel somewhat outnumbered.
The seemingly absent Young Lord of Ashwood has made his way in from a side door, the large man dressed in his house colors. The quality of his clothing is appropriate for the event, far higher than the simple leathers he can usually be found in. His hair is tied back, a dark grey ponytail keeping it out of his face and his stubble has actually been shaved away. It seems that immediately after the wedding ceremony, he slipped away, but now he's back and looking slightly…upbeat? He sure as hell looks to be in a better mood than most have seen him in since the death of his brother.
Moving towards his family's table, Bastien drifts by his little brother and simply pats the younger Ashwood on the shoulder, before moving to an empty chair and lowering himself into it.
Keeping several steps behind his aunt is easy enough even at a sedate turn, as Maldred's position has left him several steps beyond her for the present. His head of tainted straw dips low in a final, conclusive bow, but such elegance is impaired when he trips and stumbles against the board, lurching back with a sanguineous bloody lip and a rather less courtly expression in his lady aunt's train.
Nedra glances up from the table to smile again the Ladies Frey, Jaimera - Firth and Lyanna, and Ser Maldred of the Cheerful disposition, arrive at the table occupied by a assortment of Erenfords, Ashwood and Mallister's. "Ladies," she says as she rises to her feet again, "and Ser Maldred," the same smile shared in Maldred's direction, "please join us," she asks as she sweeps a gesture to the open chairs she'd saved at the table. Her smile slips a few notches at Maldred's lurching gait, the look upon her face a mixture of caution (again) and wary observation.
Another refill of his goblet comes quickly, Daryl is really putting away the alcohol, though he seems to be handling it well. A look up towards Laryssa, and he opens his mouth to respond, though no words come from his parted mouth. A look to Katrin. To Ceinlys. How did he get himself into this position? And to top it off, here comes his Lord cousin Bastien. "Dances all around!" He urges, apparently eager to get to a safe zone, away from Bastien. He may look upbeat but…Daryl knows better. His eyes settle on Ceinlys finally as one of his hands start drumming lightly on the table's surface. "So," He emits, clearing his throat. A look towards the dance floor. Then a small lean out of his head for a discrete look at Bastien. There's a small smile offered if his look is caught.
Arching a brow in mingled amusement and curiosity, Ceinlys openly looks between Laryssa and the man seated by her own side. Well, what's a wedding without ill-advised trysts, or at least forging the paths toward the same. She's not here to judge. Nor is she here to rescue Daryl. And lo and behold! A distraction arrives in the towering form of the Heir of Highfield.
Summoning a slow-burning smile as she watches Bastien take a seat, the young lady then gently raises her goblet in his direction, inclining her head in a silent toast of greeting. Or so it would seem. The way her eyes linger on him suggest she actually would voice her thoughts.. but not call them across a table where perfectly pleasant dramas are already unfolding. Seated between Daryl and Katrin, Ceinlys looks very much the noblewoman this evening, in a gown of gold and with her thick ebon mane neatly pinned up at her nape. Slowly but surely, people begin to recover from the tragedy at Tanglewood.
Distractedly, hearing Daryl clear his throat, she glances back, then waves a hand in dismissive gesture. "Take my cousin first, m'lord. I've need of a word with Lord Bastien."
Lyanna arrives at the table before Firth does once Firth gets to the table she makes a beeline to that promised chair. She lowers herself into her. Looking over shoulder she sees her favorite bard and she smiles bright. She offers Garion a nod of her head in greeting along with a warm smile. She then arranges her skirts around her as she leans her cane against it. She smiles warmly. "Thank you Lady Mallister." She looks at the others and offers a nod of greeting. "Good evening, is there any wine, whiskey or brandy?"
So accustomed is she to moving in tandem with Ser Maldred, that his tottering bow elicits his aunt's attention though she has already stepped away.
Letting the younger Frey ladies continue without her, Lady Jaimera turns upon the heel of a dainty leather boot and takes stock of her nephew: messier even than usual. She pulls a plain white handkerchief from the deep recesses of a sleeve and proffers it to him with a sarcastic flick of her wrist.
The festivities are fun, the friends and conversation even better. Seated as she is beside Robben, Aemy is content. Tilting her head towards him to hear his reply, she laughs softy "Perhaps you are right, my lord. I also am eagerly anticipating it." As Nedra joins, her eyes rest on her friend. "I am looking forward to you traveling back with us this evening to Heronhurst. It has been an enjoyable wedding." As Lyanna joins, Aemy offers her hand a gentle squeeze. "My lady, it is lovely seeing you again.We are in good spirits, surrounded by people we love. Good friends. How was your journey?"
Ilaria's expression is mischievous at best, and she steeples her fingers together as Maldred draws back from the table. It is almost as if the girl has metamorphosed into a viper and is waiting intently for her prey. Flickers of candlelight are reflected in the girl's green eyes, but she gasps in complete startlement as Maldred trips and dives head-first into the table. The thud of impact is masked by the sudden scraping of her seat as she shoves backward and jumps up, reaching out as if there is much she can do to help the man. When he straightens suddenly, her hand draws back, and rather than enhance his embarrassment with her over-feminine attentions, she curls her fingers about the empty water goblet at her side. Dark lashes brush against her cheeks as the girl glances downward.
Suddenly, she drops into her chair, covering the goblet with her hand and tipping it down, and then up, and then down, and then up - a gesture of sudden restless boredom. "More wine," she orders, setting the cup aside and resting her hands in her lap. Her focus drops downward, and she studies her fingers intently while mulling over something.
In all his frills and confident posture, the fellow musicians soon wave Garion back at his place, handing him his weary lute. With a rash flick of jealousy in his cerulean eyes, the musician rescues his intrument out of the unfamiliar, brazen hands, that have had the impudence to catch hold of it. "Yes, yes, go and get yourself a cup of wine, I'll sing." He says, before his firm fingers wander suavely over the strings and produce the first chord. When her raises his voice it is surprisingly rotund with the soft wings of husky breath at the edges, when verses of romance spread through the hall. Of course a slight adjustment was made to the verses to praise the matrimonal occasion.
Beneath a linden, in its shade,
Beside the heath, our couch we made;
And, should you near that spot, youll find
Bruised flowers and grass we left behind.
On forest edge, down in a vale
Happy the day!
There sang so sweet the nightingale.
When I came to that meadow fair
My lovely wife, long ere me, was there.
With gracious lady greeted me
The raised goblet is met in kind with Bastien's own, the large man snagging the cup set out for his seat and filling it with red liquid. She might voice her thoughts, but even in his good mood, Bastien's stoicism remains. At least its lost the animosity that has been staining his normally neutral disposition. Taking a sip from the goblet, Bastien sets it down and after a brief stare, breaks his gaze away from the Lady Ceinlys. His eyes sweep across those in attendance, and settle on Maldred for a long moment. That smile fades, but only momentarily. Soon enough, he's looking back towards those at his table and caught by Daryl's greeting. The large man simply nods at his younger cousin. Hey, it's a step up from glowering!
In echo of the others at the table, Laryssa raises her goblet to Bastien as well. There's a raised eyebrow reserved for Daryl, however. She's caught him speechless. For perhaps the first time since they met. This only provides fuel for the fire. Shoulders roll back and the young woman watches the Highfield Deputy intently for a moment before Ceinlys provides the suggestion for him to select a 'cousin' to dance with. A glance to Katrin, then.
Lyanna's deep blue eyes widen a touch as she notices the… Young Lord Ashwood sit down at her table. Nonetheless she offers him a friendly smile. "Lord Bastien, I am glad you have not stayed behind at Highfield." She hesitates, as if contemplating to add more, but leaves it at that. Overhearing Ceinlys' words to Daryl, Lyanna arches a brow in silence, but warms up visibly as Aemy addresses her with a question. "My journey was hurried and enjoyable, Lady Aemy. I am glad I arrived here on time. Well, sort of. I had no idea there would be such pleasant company… And such competent minstrels" She adds with a smile as Garion's comely and familiar voice resounds through the hall.
"It is quite an occasion," Robben replies with a bit of a smile to Nedra, a grateful expression as the Mallister seated herself in Daryl's line of sight. "Are you enjoying the festivities, Lady Nedra?" he asks, before there's a smile as Lyanna comes over again. "Lady Lyanna. It's good to see you were able to join us. I hope things went well?" A brief pause, before he adds, "And yes, good spirits. Wouldn't want to weigh such an occasion down, would we?" There's a brief pause as his shoulder is patted, and he turns to offer a smile to his older brother. "Bastien." Looking back to Aemy at her words, he offers her a bit of a smile now, before looking over to Nedra again at Aemy's words. "So you're heading to Heronhurst as well, Lady Nedra?"
Rising, Muirenn reaches to give a fond embrace to her cousins, Aemy and Nedra, and then demures quietly "I am afraid I am getting a headache. I shall return to the Inn to rest a bit. If you will all please excuse me." The Freys and others are included in the soft explanation of her depature, "It was, in its odd way, good to see you all again. I regret not being able to stay longer." There is no false pretense in her, for she always will be a Mallister no matter the house she is wedded to and why lie when all know that there has been a strain between the two noble families. Nonetheless, she is friendly and the smile she offers those at her table is a true one.
For his part, nursed equivocally by a widowed Lady and inspected grimly by a Young Lord, the Frey bastard appears dizzily indifferent, surlily smearing at his split lip in his unsteady retreat, but before long he has straightened up. After all, he bears a lute, and the expert strains seem to cheer him - or at least garner black amusement, as he begins - indeed - to unfasten his own ornate, but somewhat out-tuned burden.
Alric eyes widen a bit as Maldred hits the table. "Are you alright, ser?" He asks with a raised brow but then looks to his new wife at her reaction. Watching her drinking down her wine. Sitting still for another brief moment before shifting and rising. Bowing to Ilaria. Offering a hand as the music continues on a bit more. "If I may, would you accept a dance?" He suggests with a bright smile. Waiting for her to accept, to be able to move along with her if she does.
With Daryl suitably entertained - or whatever you'd choose to call it - his companion rises in a smooth motion from her seat, calmly leaving the chair drawn and flitting a glance in Laryssa's direction before gracefully gliding away. She doesn't stray far, though. Only around the table toward the newly arrived Lord Bastien, where she then draws to a halt. Lingering by his shoulder, she follows his gaze out toward the minstrels and the gathering dancers as the swelling music swiftly draws all eyes and thoughts. Only belatedly does she look down and offer the unreadable man a tentative smile, wrapping one slender, lace draped arm across her waist to serve as a prop for her other elbow.. and her firmly held goblet. "I thought you had changed your mind, m'lord." A rare admission, from the Steward. "I am, for once, pleased to have been mistaken." Taking a tiny sip of her drink, she looks away from him again, as if distracted by a perusal of the nobility already up and twirling their way around the chamber. "Or was it perhaps business that brought you, in the end..?"
Making his way further away as his sister takes her leave, Martyn starts circulating through the crowds now, just looking at the various people present for the moment. Once in a while stopping to offer a few words to some of the people present.
Firth offers Muirenn a bow of her head and she nods. "I pray that you will have a swift recovery good Lady." This is said to Muirenn. Her eyes then drift to where Maldred is and there is concern on her face. She then waits for one of the servants to give her something that is alcoholic and strong. Once she has been given a filled goblet she leans back a little bit and takes a sip. Her gaze then goes to the dancing and she watches them for a moment as she listens to the music that Garion plays and sings.
Well. That could've been worse. Daryl's smile becomes a bit more genuine as he moves to stand from where he sits, one hand absent pulling at each of his sleeves and then a small exhale of breath, eyes searching…Searching…Erik, where the -hell- are you? Donning a charming grin between Katrin and Laryssa, he observes the music and extends a hand first towards the elder of the Haigh women, "May I? Take you for a dance that is?" His speechlessness is gone, replaced by his cool, calm demeanor. And without fear of an immediate smack upside the head from Lord Bastien, the Ashwood seems in good spirits again, and he speaks to Laryssa, "Surely I will offer a dance to you as well, but I will take Lady Katrin first, because I -believe- Ser Erik was looking to ask you for one. If you find him you should ask, though if not, i'll be right back after breaking your cousin's foot." An expectant, albeit wary look to Katrin.
Lady Jaimera's auntly disapproval — of Maldred's hematic state, or his quasi-musical intentions? — is expressed via a sniff, at the conclusion of which she abandons him to the consequences of his follies and the floor before the high table to dancing.
Her stately progress about the fringes of the hall could be viewed as a quest for the lesser of a multitude of evils. Haighs? She's had enough of them lately, and then some. Mallisters? Seven hells, no. Commoners? Not while there's breath left in her. Ashwoods? … Well, perhaps a Haigh turned Erenford who keeps one pretty foot beneath the Ashwood tent. Her niece Ceinlys is no worse company than many and notably better than some, and, if she looks up, may sight an impending aunt.
Smiling pleasantly at Robben, that smile diminishes a touch at his question, and nodding a bit hesitantly Lyanna replies: "They did." But nothing more. As Muirenn leaves, Lyanna inclines her head in a polite goodbye. "Lady Muirenn. You have graced us with many a beautiful song at the funeral. I will always be happy to see you again." Noticing Maldred and his lute from the corner of her eye, the Frey lady arches curiously a brow. Now that is a side to her bastard cousin she has not yet had the pleasure of experiencing.
Sharing a few passing words with others as they pass by, or pause briefly, Mortimer seems content enough to people watch fora while given that all seems quiet and civilised. Makes a nice change in many ways. Martyn's progress is noted, given that he knows the man and as he draws close enough for actual conversation he offers the Mallister a polite nod and a "m'Lord."
As she notes Maldred looking as if to begin performing upon his lute, Muirenn replies to Lyanna with a soft laugh, "You may wish my lady that I were singing once again." Eyes twinkling she inclines her head and then takes her leave.
A pregnancy gives one (or in this case two) a great many excuses to arrive late when there's a break between events. And so it is that Kamron and Saffron Mallister return. They were at the ceremony, and then slipped away for a nap and a bit of a respite. Now, they return, Kamron giving his very pregnant wife support on one arm. Looking around the hall, he nods his head, "You were right. A very good turnout. Apparently, too many people don't get to visit Broadmoor any more often than we do."
Sitting quietly beside Erik, Bella looks over as her brother rises and asks his wife to dance, there is a quick smile, though she does mostly listen to the surrounding conversation, speaking briefly with her mother for a moment, her brow arched, a cough, a quick denial with a sharp shake of her head. Looking back to Erik, she grins, speaking a few words to him.
When Ceinlys makes her way around the table towards him, Bastien's brown eyed gaze settles back on the well dressed Lady. The Bastien she knew during his days as her escort and bodyguard shines through, a man not seen in ages as the Young Lord gives her an answer in that casual, but brief manner: "Which would you prefer?"
The large man's finger circles the rim of his cup, smudging what wine has been left on the goblet's edge as he turns in his seat towards Ceinlys. Locking his eyes onto her own, he comments in that casual tone, "I am going to accept."
Oh the poor Deputy of Highfield. Digging himself so deep today. Now he is in her element and Laryssa is basking in it. She takes a sip of wine, hiding the brief smirk that flares. Free hand lifts to wave softly towards Daryl. "Please. Show my cousin the floor, m'Lord. I will ensure you do not slip away before we have a dance." And he can be certain of that. Pale blue gaze drifts across the hall to seek out the Sheriff. If, indeed, he had intended to ask her to dance…
Saffron Mallister dimples up at her husband as she is escorted back into the affair. She looks at ease in her simple silk and cotton gown and cushioned slippers, and her hair is not overtly done to further emphasize a kind of elegant comfort. She glances across the hall with a slight touch of interest, searching for familiar faces and finding that almost all fit that particular criteria. She gives her husband's arm a squeeze as Kamron leads her onward. "I'm not terribly surprised by the turn out, honestly, Love… Lady Ilaria and Lord Alric both have generated quite a gathering of friends."
Perhaps still recovering his composure as he attempts to tune up his begilded lute, Maldred falls - almost certainly by accident - into a rough equivalent to the tune a westerlander classic, something about precipitation and persecution. Almost certainly not a deliberate parody, surely?
"Master Trevelyan," Martyn greets Mortimer as he hears the man's greeting, offering a bit of a smile now. "I must say I never expected seeing you here. How are you?" he asks to the man, before his gaze goes around the room rather briefly, falling on Kamron and Saffron now. Offering the two of them a nod and a smile for the moment.
Nedra keeps wandering from the table, sptting this friend or that family acquaintance, returning a few moments after Kamron and Saffron join the table, though missing Lady Muirenn and Lord Brennart departing. My, people come and go so quickly in a banquet this large. "The music, how lovely," she remarks in a quiet voice to Lady Firth as she seats herself again. "One of the servants had a tray with glasses of brandy," she offers one to Lady Lyanna, keeping the other for herself as she's taken her seat.
Erik has been quietly watching the affairs of the wedding, glad to see that most of the people are enjoying himself, including his Deputy who seem to, as usual, attracting quite a bit of attention. He has worked on the feast that was provided, finishing quite a bit though not to the point where he is too stuffed for anything else and has pushed his plate forward a little bit ago. Now he is just enjoying the wine slowly and when Arabella leans in to whisper, the Jast Knight manages an amused smile and whispers a few words back.
"I prefer to be right, given the option. The curse of my gender." Ceinlys replies absently, not yet returning to her regard of the Ashwood Lord. Her gaze flits over the table, though, as she lowers herself to perch awhile on a recently vacated seat beside him. Watching Laryssa toy with the Deputy in a manner very familiar to her, the Steward can't help but smirk a little to herself. Some people enjoy music, some embroidery. She rather enjoys watching men flail at the mercy of a Haigh woman.
That being said, when her new companion's words drift to her, on the periphery of her senses, the young lady is looking sharply back toward him. "You're going to-.." Almost echoing his every word, she slowly grasps the gravity of the simple statement and - inexplicably - a flush of rosy hue rises along her cheekbones. Of all the times and places! Clearing her throat, she takes a hurried sip of wine before answering. "Well.. my father will be most pleased, I am sure."
Mortimer follows Martyn's gaze a moment and adds his own nods in greeting to the Mallister pair before turning back to the budding conversation at hand. "Can't claim to have expected it myself m'Lord," he ofers with a casual shrug. "Bit of a last minute thing all told, one of Lady Faline's guards has come down with something and I think I was the first person to enter her line of sight after she found out."
Daryl casts his gaze about idly, noting Saffron and Kamron and doing his best to keep a rising smirk in check; remembering…Atleast some of the activities the night prior. A nod is sent their way if he can catch their gaze. "Certainly," Daryl responds to Laryssa, quickly lifting his goblet to finish the rest of his wine with a quick head tilt and smile. Then he spots the Jast. There's a look given to the man. Just an amused -loathing-. Then he peers about, and suddenly Katrin is gone. Hm. "Well, perhaps you'd fancy a dance right now?" He asks of Laryssa, though the way he begins to shy back towards the table suggests he's more than ready to retake his seat. The reaction between Bastien and Ceinlys is noted, though he doesn't make any comment or action on it. Peering towards Erik. A smile to Laryssa.
Eyeing the exchange between Ceinlys and Bastien with apparent unease - or is it just the flickering light of the torches ligthing the hall that betray the onlooker, Lyanna shifts a little in her seat and leans a little forward to her aunt Firth to engage in whispered words of confidence.
"I had the pleasure of meeting the minstrel once in Highfield, and I admit he made quite an impression on me then as well, my lady." Aemy replies back to Lyanna, looking between Nedra and Robben as they speak. When the dancing begins, she turns her head to watch the couples move to the dance floor. "Are you enjoying the music lord Robben?"
"Good," Robben replies to Lyanna, before he looks around for a few moments now. Gaze pausing on his brother and Ceinlys for a few moments, before he looks back to Aemy as he hears her words. "I am," he replies, with a bit of a smile. "How about you, my lady?"
Firth smiles at Nedra. "I will gladly take that brandy when it comes around." She says to her. "Make that few glasses." Her smile gets brighter. She casts a glance back at others who are arriving she offers them a bow of her head. She then looks over at who else has gathered. She looks over at Lyanna and leans in a little as she whispers to her and she nods.
Something rises in the Young Lord Ashwood's throat. A sound brief and fond, a faint chuckle as the large man catches the sight of Lady Ceinlys /blushing/. Still, he's never been one for teasing or poking fun. Looking away from her for a moment, he spies the goblet beside him and lifts it to his lips to slowly take a sip. Lowering the goblet slightly, Bastien's voice quiets and he asks Ceinlys a question in a whisper. Likely to cause more scandal than simply saying it out in the open, but the man never seemed to care much about keeping up appearances.
Kamron catches Martyn and Mortimer's silent greetings, offering a smile and nod in response. He pauses a little ways inside the hall, glancing around, "So. Ashwoods, Haighs, Seven Above… Freys and Mallisters together… perhaps we had best go save Neddie." He reaches a hand across his body to cover up her hand at his arm, laughing softly to himself, "What do you think, my dear? Or would you like to pay our respects to the new couple first?"
"Ah, I see. I hope it's nothing too serious?" Martyn offers to Mortimer, with a bit of a smile, before he adds, "What do you think about a feast such as this one?"
"As much as I long to sit down, we should go pass along our congratulations." Saffron offers her husband a gentle smile before she nods toward where they will find Ilaria, at hopefully her new husband. She murmurs to Kamron as they adjust their steps. "As long as you can be polite to Lord Alric." She casts a smile toward him now that is only slightly tired around the edges. "This might be the last time we can travel this far, Kamron. I can't seem to believe that we will be turning around in the next couple days to head back to the Roost."
Now close upon a certain convocation, Lady Jaimera's keen ears detect well nigh every word which passes betwixt Haigh-Erenford lady and Ashwood lord. A smile burgeons upon her lips, a smile which when it is in place takes on the character of bright steel. She has found amusement. With a great flourish she indicates that the serving-man who, relieved of the bridal shears, has been following her like a lost puppy, should pull out for her the chair next to Lady Ceinlys's — and upon it she settles herself as though she is planning to stay a good long time. "What good fortune, that this otherwise dreary affair should offer us the opportunity for a little talk, O my niece," she remarks pointedly.
Since her cousin seems to have had her attentions taken by something else, Laryssa decides to be kind. The woman rises to her feet after a long drink of wine. "I will expect something in return for being your second choice," she says to Daryl and though the words may be stern, her tone is light and there is a bit of a sparkle in her eye. She shifts slightly in her seat, watching the Deputy expectantly. The Sheriff, for now, is safe.
Ilaria rubs her palms together before reaching up to fiddle with the soft-edged silver feather holding the heavy cloak about her neck. Her cheeks are flushed - although considering the four…no, five now - glasses of wine, the maidenly pink of her cheeks is to be entirely expected. Her lips purse together, exhaling a thin stream of air in a faint, breathy whistle as her studious, hawk-like gaze darts from group to group gathered below the high table. The melodic twang of instruments accompanied by enthusiastic voices brings a smile to her lips, and the girl looks just about ready to rise when her husband does so first.
The unexpected movement startles Ilaria, but she reaches out automatically to accept the proffered hands. Her fingers are cold to the touch, but her grip is steady and firm. She offers Alric her ear as he leans in to whisper something, and by degrees his words work like a charm to erase the cheer from her elegant facade. In a sudden, violent tug, she yanks her hand away from Alric's and rises up hastily from her seat. One hand presses into the tablecloth as she leans in, hissing loudly into Alric's ear. Anyone quite close to the couple may hear her words. "It is quite my concern if any person regardless of station or disposition has seen fit to injure themselves and dispense of their vital bodily fluids in my presence. Should my response be that of a maternal, nurturing nature, then it is likely I am merely a victim of my sex. Should you see fit to draw any other ridiculous conclusions, the problem is entirely your own. I am going to find Kitty."
Turning abruptly, Ilaria palms the soft silk of her gown to smooth out any creases collected while sitting and moves down and away from the high table with light, slippered steps. Her path is set for nowhere in particular, but she whips her head to and fro in her search for Katrin.
"Well now, let me see what I can do about that, Lady Firth," Nedra replies, seeing that the gift of glasses of Brandy were welcomed. She scans the room for a moment, blue-grey eyes narrowed subtly before catching sight of the same young man with the tray upon which slender glasses of brandy are balanced. "Ah, excellent," she says and - since it's probably the most expedient way to accomplish things - simply ducks through the room once again - retrieves another pair - asks the nice young man with the booze to make sure to pass by their table on his rounds - then returns to her seat, presenting Firth with a glass before finishing off her own.
Maldred has been working upon some timing - not necessarily entirely musical - and it is at this moment that he gives the golden, yet, sonically, rather leaden lute a hearty strum, and begins to belt out - such is surely the only term for his unrestrained, martial…timbre - a tale of thwarted love, originating from North of the Neck but now the common heritage of the pot-shops…
Bella seems pleased with the whispered answer returned from the Sheriff, and she covers the blush by taking up her goblet and sipping from it, certain it has become bottomless. At the sudden and violent reaction from Ilaria, the Fenster almost rises as well to see to her, though realizing she was seeking her sister instead, she settles back in her seat, casting a curious look to her brother before looking back at Erik. "Never say it was uneventful," she speaks softly.
Seated as she is near the edge of the flurry that is the dancefloor, Ceinlys' words are easily lost in the general bustle of the celebratory feast. For everyone but the unruffled man she's beside, anyway. Slowly setting down her goblet upon the table, taking care not to spill it, the young lady first takes a slow breath, as if she were buying time before answering. Surely not. The Steward is never left lost for words. Is she? When she eventually straightens her shoulder, raises her head and looks across to the Ashwood heir, it's with a solemn expression. This must be a decidedly delicate matter under discussion.
Fortunate then, that her answer just barely precedes the arrival of the Lady Jaimera, to whom Ceinlys turns with a ready half-smile and inclination of her head. "Aunt, how delightful to see you out and about, mingling with those of such lesser station." Well, why not humor her. She plainly believes it to be so. "And congratulations for your fine choice of gift to my darling cousin. There's few things so useful as a sharp blade, I find.. save a sharp mind." Clasping her newly freed hands about her uppermost knee, Ceinlys fixes similarly cool eyes upon her mother's younger sister. "Now, what is it you'd care to discuss?" The weather? Optimistic. Hearing a brief few raised words at the top table, she does afford a glance that way, but can see little through the crowd.
Kamron laughs softly at Saffron's warning, "Of course I'll be polite. It's a wedding." He grins crookedly, then starts to lead his wife around to the high table and the man and woman of the hour. As they approach, however, he slows, frowning slightly at the argument apparently brewing, "Uh-oh…" He gathers a small book from his belt-pouch, hesitating, "Perhaps the gift can wait. Or do you think they might welcome the distraction?"
One of the…antique, 'Lysene' lute's faintly metallic looking gut-strings snaps and veers out of place, spraying more baseborn blood along Maldred's fingers, but he seems scarcely to mind, as his voice presses on loud and lusty.
Erik was sharing their private words with equal amusement as he also drinks from his goblet but the cup is quickly removed and placed on the table as there is a slight disturbance nearby between the newly married Lord and his Lady Wife. He does not interfere though, pretending not to notice as it would be improper to stare or gape at what just happened. When Arabella sits back down, the Jast Knight reaches over and gently pats her hand, nodding his head slightly.
Aemy quietly remains at the table, speaking with Robben, "I am. It is beautiful." Though something else has caught her attention and she looks towards the high table, looking between bride and groom, briefly. Body language says a lot, and it was none too pleasant at the moment.
It appears to be poor timing for the Mallister couple encroach upon Ilaria and Alric. Saffron immediately halts under the guidance of Kamron's lead, and she matches his frown for a moment. "No…" she says a touch hesitantly before she releases his arm. "Perhaps I should go speak with her." She chews a bit worriedly at her lower lip before she gingerly touches her husband's shoulder. Where just a few months ago Saffron would depart his side with a flourish of grace and well-placed steps, she instead slowly waddles toward the new bride. "Ilaria," she says with a warm smile, her dimples in full-force to try to sooth her friend.
Alric does offer a smile and a nod as he glances to Kamron and Saffron as they enter. Perhaps a fragment of last night popping into his head at that. He does know that his entire body is sore after all, though still trying to piece together the puzzle perhaps. Though at Ilaria's reaction, he isn't surprised. He was stupid and he knew it. "Apologies." He offers. Moving to follow Ilaria. Smiling still upon his lips and moving after her for now. Trying to reach her. The sober appearance while seated breaks a bit. As anyone that saw his the night before might realize, he is indeed drunk as well. Stumbling slightly in his steps. But still able to carry himself well enough. Straigthening and walking along. "Lady Ilaria. Apologies. I am a jackass. Please." He offers a deep bow at that. Voice loud as he is humble. Trying to get her attention. Not really something he will do often. "Please, let me apologize with a dance." Trying to salvage what he can after his own mistake perhaps.
The Northland Ballad the Bastard Sung (Verse One…)
O young Theomar is come out of the north,
Through all the wide Northland the clans knew his worth;
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none,
He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Theomar…
Smiling brightly Firth motions for Nedra to come closer so she can speaks softly to bother her niece and Nedra. Her voice is low so that only the two women can hear her. She smiles as she speaks. When she is done she says in a warm voice. "Lady Nedra why thank you." She takes a sip and goes back to listening to the music.
A elaboratively placed wink jumps from Garion's cerulean eyes to the ladies Lyanna and Aemy, through the moving bodies of the first dancers. When the sound of an other lute reaches his ears, he cocks his head, his incredibly bright smile getting another touch of rigid sweetness. In a mocking, cheery chords, he comments.
A Frey, a Frey, a singing Frey,
Of colour or name, anyway,
Should leave the tunes to those who need,
The coins to eat. And stop to bleed.
Robben pauses for a few moments as he sees Aemy looking to the high table, his own gaze going in that direction now, with a bit of a frown. "That looks like trouble…" he offers, a bit quietly.
Bastien simply nods to the reply that is whispered back, his lowered voice retreating as he looks away towards the rest of those gathered. "A mutual feeling." Ceinlys' aunt is not quite ignored, but the large man has little to discuss with the woman and so settles back into that statuesque role that he plays so well.
"Second choice?…Ha, hardly I just didn't want to hurt Lady Katrin's feelings and as she aske…" There's a pause as Daryl observes Ilaria with widened eyes, nonverbally exclaiming 'Oh…Shit.' A look to Laryssa, then Alric, a slight grimace, and he hurriedly ushers the Haigh to the dance floor where others have already begun doing so. In a swift motion, he assumes a proper position, eyeing over Laryssa's shoulder at Erik with a shake of his head. He warms his expression as he looks back down at Laryssa, keeping proper spacing. "So, last night…" He begins small talk, "What'd you end up doing?" His question seems harmless enough, flitting another concerned look to Alric, "Come on, man…" He mutters under his breath.
Kamron offers Saffron the book as she disengages from his arm, "Go. Do your thing, My Lady." He turns about in time to catch the musical challenge from one singer to another, shaking his head and laughing under his breath, "Now this could get interesting." Still, he keeps one eye on his wife as she approaches the newly-joined couple, watching for any signal for him to approach as well, or for him to rescue her.
Mortimer has his eyes on the progress of Kamron and Saffron for a few moments and almost misses Martyn's reply entirely. Turning abck to the man besides him he offers "I'm not certain m'Lord, but I doubt it's anything too serious." Before answering the next question he scans the room again, considering what to say before fianlly offering, "I reckon I'd like it more if it were at the Roost, more people I knew and so on." Maybe even his wife. "Food was good mind and I can't really complain. Needs must and all that."
The frown on Lyanna's face while hearing Firth's whisper to her alone, and then another meant for her and Nedra's ears, deepens slightly, and sipping from her glass with a pensive mien she is stirred by the snapping of the lute's string. Maldred's song however, is delivered with surprising skill and manages to bring a warm smile back onto her face. Alas, the minstrel's quick-witted reply, has her break out into a melodious and heart-felt laughter.
Enchanted, despite the trouble brewing, Aemy watches the minstrel, laughter lighting her eyes, the words all in good jest, hopefully, heard and she turns to share her amusement with Lyanna, the other recipient. "I adore his lyrics, so very entertaining." There is a quick nod to Robben at the mention of the trouble.
Maldred Rivers flashes eyes of thunder at Goldenbreath (oddly enough, an acquaintance) - and then roars not with pain or anger, but plain mirth, before he settles down for his favourite art form - the sardonic aside.
"What do they say Lord Lannister always says…? A tool for every task, and a task for every…I think we've found yours, minstrel. I'm not averse to being silenced," he admits, hurling that bespangled, treacherous lute of his mother's down - it had never brought him luck since Catryn Taken left the Riverlands, anyway. Now Rivers strides boldly, though without particularly direction, towards the hall's centre; "In any case," he drawls, "I'd far sooner dance…"
There is a glance for Ilaria and Alric, but there is little that Laryssa can do in this moment. The Haigh allows herself to be led to the dance floor by Daryl and takes up the position for the song at hand with him. "Third choice, then? Fourth?" She's clearly baiting him, but now that they are more isolated and she can speak softly, it's clear it's all in jest. There's a soft laugh at the question of the previous evening and she tilts her head slightly, one of the purposefully loose tendrils of hair falling across her neck. "Why we drank and enjoyed gossip, as we are wont to do. And you? The lad that came for Lord Erik seemed quite flustered to rush him to whatever festivities you had planned."
Robben shakes his head a bit as he listens to the words of the minstrel, then looks over at Maldred, eyes narrowing a bit briefly, before he looks back to Aemy. "It's rather entertaining, yes," he offers with another grin now.
Ilaria pauses as a couple twirl past, and she reaches up with irritated movements to flick her mane of hair over her shoulders. She rolls her arms beneath the weight of the cloak and turns about with a swirl of silkk in time to catch sight of Saffron. The vibrante red hair is like a beacon amidst a dark sea of nobles, and she rushes forward to greet her long-absent friend in a manner some may consider overenthusiastic. Throwing her arms about the girl's shoulder's, she leans in on tiptoes to hug Saffron gently before standing back to admire her. "My lady, I had no idea you would be here! Surely I ought to tweak your husband's nose and give him a nice scolding for bringing you so far."
Breathless and sparkling, Ilaria's good nature has been restored by the meeting, and she steps back to give Saffron a little room to breathe. Of course, because timing is everything, her heel lands on Alric's boot-clad toe. His apology rings loudly in her ear as she steps forward and half-turns to include both companions in the conversation. Now that they are amidst a throng of people, the new Fenster blushes scarlet and reaches up to rub her fingertips over her lips. "We can discuss it later, my lord," she answers quietly before gesturing toward Saffron. "Lord Kamron and Lady Saffron have arrived. Did you know they were coming? I am simply shocked, but in a delightful way. I hope the road was kind to you, my lady."
Saffron accepts the embrace with warm ease, and even manages to squeeze a bit despite the enormous belly now pressed between them. She murmurs something against her hair before she pulls back to smile brightly at her friend. "I wouldn't miss it. You should see the cart Kamron had been brought up here in. I think we left the Roost with naught a pillow." She glances up toward Alric, offering the newly married lord a gentle nod of her chin. "Lord Alric, the ceremony was a lovely affair. I'm sorry we are late to return to the festivities. We required a nap." And she pats at the top of her belly to indicate exactly who encompassed that 'we'. Now she smiles back to Ilaria. "You look lovely, Ilaria. I was hoping to see Katrin… is she off hiding somewhere?"
There's a brief pause as Martyn hears Mortimer's words, unable to hold back some laughter now. Shaking his head a bit at the man, he offers a grin. "Well spoken," he offers, after a few moments of pause now.
Nedra's head tilts slightly to catch Firth's words to herself and Lyanna, listening with intent curiosity in fact until hearing the last of Firth's words and feeling a trace of a frown forming upon her face as result to the quiet voiced words. She reaches for the glass fo brandy set on the table before her and hastily takes a sip of it, probably - possibly - not the best idea, to add fuel to the moment but she takes a healthy drink from the glass all the same. She shares a glance with Lyanna, a small nod accompanying the small glance, to have been included in the quiet voiced conversation.
A serving maid, seeing the old Frey lady sit for the first time, rushes to place a full cup of wine before her; "That will do to begin with," Lady Jaimera tells her, "but I feel sure you can do better." She speaks in the bracing tone of a master-at-arms who, should a new recruit fail to meet her expectations, is fully prepared to wax wroth. But it is only a careless sideways glance she spares for the servant, for her beady dark eyes are much more interested in Lady Ceinlys and the young man sitting beyond her.
She essays another remark: "One's mind, be it however dull, might drift across many a thorny matter, on a day which marks such a potent transformation in a young lady's life. This morning, she was her father's daughter and a Haigh; but words are spoken, cloaks are doffed and donned, and now she is her husband's wife and a Fenster. Yet what has been bred in her blood and her bone, and may it so readily be transmuted?" While she speaks some commotion erupts at the high table, as though to punctuate her words with a an apt demonstration…
Daryl continues to dance with Laryssa, smirking just a touch at her words, "Oh come on," He says with a light laugh, glancing at the Jast knight once more if only for a second, "Well, we just had a few drinks and listened to some music, lively conversation." He more or less lies through his teeth, swaying and swinging the Haigh as they move about. He keeps using her shoulder as a window to spy on people, not to say he is completely ignoring her. "And…What about Ser Erik? You've been spending a decent amount of time with him, no? Has he mentioned me?" A polite smile and then a glance towards Ceinlys and Bastien.
Bella only allows her gaze to follow her brothers chase of his wife for a moment, lifting her goblet for another sip, she gratefully accepts the pat on her hand. She moves her gaze to the dance floor and watches the others all partner up.
Mortimer raises an eyebrow faintly at Martyn's response but then just shrigs it off as one of those things. "How about yourself m'Lord?" he asks, "you'll've been to more of these affairs than me. How does it rate?"
Alric is more or less ignoring the others for now and feeling the heel on his boot and biting down if he feels any pain and keeping his posture. Perhaps another of many bruises during these brief time in Broadmoor. Nodding at Ilaria's words and his smile is happy once more, if one could tell the difference between Alric multitude of different smiles. Eyes shifting to Kamron and Saffron as be bows his head a bit. "I think I have a vague memory of it. Did I run into you early? I apologize, my memory is a bit clouded." He explains, seeming a bit uncertain if he did meet them or not. Resuming his spot more fully next to Ilaria, even offering his arm to her.
The drink is finished and Firth gets another. She looks at her companion and she smiles. "Just a little seed to plant into the garden that has already been created," she smiles warmly at the two of them. She downs this one and goes for another. This one she is sipping. Her gaze drifts to Maldred and then the dancers. She seems to take everything in. Another smile graces her lips. She looks to Robben and Amey. "Maldred is very good but still not as good as Garion, he is the songsinger." She laughs then at Garion's song. "Well sung." She calls out towards him. Her attention is then drawn back to those at the table she is seated with.
If Laryssa notices that her shoulder is being put to such nefarious uses, she does not reveal it. Like as not, she is doing the same with Daryl's (for once unarmored) shoulder. Observing people as they move along the dance floor. There is some attention paid, mind, to her feet and keeping them from any errant movements. She's drunk enough that she's loose and fluid and perhaps a little more open with her words than she'd otherwise be. "That sounds entirely too tame for you, m'Lord, but I will not press." She does look to him firmly at the question, an eyebrow rising somewhat. "Your name has come up a time or two, yes. I'm sure that comes of no surprise, as he is the Sheriff." Her lips do twitch in mirth she cannot quite contain.
Kamron glances back at the newly-married couple in time to see the apology, but not the cause. He shrugs a bit helplessly across to Alric from his position a few paces back from where his wife is exchanging greetings with the other new wife. When Alric steps up to join the ladies, however, Kamron steps forward himself, "Lord Alric, Lady Ilaria. I think I can safely echo everything my Lady Wife has said about the ceremony." Focusing on Alric so that Saffron can speak with Ilaria, he inquires, "You're feeling alright, Lord Alric? You were well on your way when you stumbled out of the inn last night."
Following Arabella's gaze to the dance floor, Erik finishes the wine in his goblet before he leans in to whisper a few more words to the young Fenster Lady before he rises from his seat. He then extends a hand to the Fenster with a smile, "My Lady, would you are to dance? It appears that others have decided to do so and I do recall how much enjoyment we shared when we were at the Kingsgrove."
"Ahh, but it is not so simple as donning new colours. The hue of one's spirit will remain under the skin for many years to come, regardless. I should know. Do I not yet carry the name of Erenford? Yet I never truly became one." Ceinlys eyes, having wandered toward Bastien on their unhurried journey back from that little disturbance a few moments ago, now fix upon her aunt with a calm smile, that's swiftly obscured as she raises her goblet for a delicate sip. "Just as you, dear aunt, will ever be a Frey. Mantles matter little to those of true nobility, do they now?" There's a fractional tip of her cup there, in a silent toast of understanding. As for the servant.. well, it's not her fault the elder noblewoman is nigh impossible to please. "Brandy." she orders, in an even tone, dismissing the serving girl with a touch more sympathy, seeing as she's blushing scarlet.
"Oh, and do forgive me manners.." Turning toward the young Lord at her other side, Ceinlys leans back a little that the view between he and Jaimera might e unimpeded. "Lady Jaimera, may I introduce Young Lord Bastien, of Highfield."
"Ah, you know how it is. When you've been to enough of such kind of events, they're not really possible to compare to each other," Martyn replies, a bit lightly now. "It's been an interesting one so far, though."
Absently satisfied Garion shrugs at the sardonic answer of Ser Maldred, getting his tunes back to a more casually melody encouraging to dance. For the moment he withdraws adding other feats of his voice, for the word 'trouble' has been overheard from one corner of the room. And of course admiring eyes have to be answered with silvery winks, that remind of the mentioned coins. A bit of a regretful expression comments Lady Lyanna's depart. As he catches the sound of his name in Lady Firth's voice, his satisfaction is far from absent.
Bastien tilts his head forward slightly, as he's mentioned by the Lady Ceinlys. "A pleasure." If the man should treat the older Lady any different than any of the other nobles in the room, he doesnt seem to realize it. There's an air of calm about the Ashwood, and it seems that he's refusing to budge on that mood for anything or anyone. Leaning back slightly in his seat, he watches as the servant is sent away, before looking back to Lady Jaimera. There's something defiant in the man. This seems like a good time to be defiant.
Interesting is not perhaps the word Mortimer would choose, but then he'd also admit freely enough that any noble intreague there is will have gone straight over his head anyway. "I'll take your word for that m'Lord," he offers with a faint smile, given he really hasn't been to enough to know how it is. "Last one I was at would have been Lord Jascen, Seven grant him rest, and Lady Anais. That was a good night, although I was on duty then an' all."
With genuine amusement, Bella listens to the whispered words replying softly, "Yet people actively seek to do so?" Laughing she glances to the floor until she realizes his intent, placing her hand in his, she smiles up at him, quite pleased with the request. "I would be honored. Though I do hope you will twirl me around like last time." Rising, she bows her head, "Thank you for asking."
The young bride's smile falters, but the change is nearly so microscopic as to be easily missed. "Last night?" she inquires hesitantly, looking with a questioning glance between Saffron, Alric, and the suddenly visible Kamron. "Lord Kamron, a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for bringing your lady wife to visit. Today would not have been complete without her." When Kamron mentions an inn, Ilaria turns lifted eyebrows on Alric. "The inn?"
Aemy nods to Robben, agreeing with his suggestion about the music again. She reaches for her wine, talking a sip, not having touched it much through the night.
Daryl just shakes his head towards Laryssa, spinning some and laughing lightly, "I can be proper!" He defends, though his eyes are cast upward as he recalls the bachelor party of Lord Alric. "You know…In a loud, obnoxious kind of way." The Ashwood leans down to whisper a few words, before swaying and finishing the dance as it comes to a close. There's a faint smirk on his features and a dip of his head, "Well, your right, that is to be expected." Then the Deputy moves to lead her away from the dance floor, and on his way back, he'll spot Erik and Arabella moving to begin dance on the next song. The Jast gets a firm 'Fuck. You.' kind of look as he passes. "Ser Erik. Lady Arabella." Then he's moving towards his old spot, seeking to pour himself another hefty goblet of wine quickly.
Even Saffron detects the slight change in the already brittle atmosphere surrounding the bride and groom, and she casts a glance toward ehr hsuband before she brightens with the gentlest of smiles. "We did happen to see Lord Alric celebrating with his fellow Lords at the inn, certainly in excitement for today." She clasps her hands together over the uppermost curve of her belly, fingers lightly folded together. "We saw them only in passing while we were on our way to the Keep." She glances toward Ilaria now, offering her friend a gentle smile.
With her hand in his, Erik guides Bella slowly around the high table and out to the dance floor where others are already dancing. As they walk there, the Jast Knight manages a smirk and nods, "I will do my best, My Lady. The last time was certainly interesting and unexpected, that is perhaps half the fun." Once the arrive at the dance floor, the young knight raises the Fenster's hand slightly as he dips into a graceful bow, then closes in on the girl, the other hand smoothly going to the young lady's hip.
Robben smiles, as things seem to have calmed down somewhat. Taking a sip of his own wine, he glances around the room, noticing the people that's moved onto the dance floor. Another quiet sip of wine taken now, and he looks to Aemy again. "Well, it seems like the dancing has started, my lady. And I seem to recall I promised you a dance." A brief pause as he smiles, "Would this be a good time for that dance, perhaps?"
Alric seems to recall things now. At least a lot of dancing. "Ah!" Seeming to realize where most of his bruises came from now. "I feel quite good now though, thank you ser Kamron. A bit sore but feeling quite good." Looking to Ilaria. Grateful for Kamron's input as it did juggle quite a bit. "Yes. Lord Daryl brought several of us there. We spent some time and enjoyed it together. I do believe that I was dancing and stumbled out of the inn. There was no harm done." He explains and smiles reassuringly. Placing a quick peck on Ilaria's cheek if she let him.
As his Deputy passes, the Sheriff of Highfield catches the look and smirks in return, more of a message of 'You know what happens with assumptions.'. "Lord Daryl, Lady Laryssa." The greeting is given in turn before Erik redirects his focus back to Arabella.
There's an expression of mock surprise upon Laryssa's features and she laughs softly, "You can? Why, whenever shall I see this… proper Lord Ashwood you believe of yourself?" Led off the floor as the song finishes, she listens to what is said to her quietly and when they pass Erik and Arabella, there is a considering gaze for the pair as she dips her head to them. Back at the table, she to seems intent upon more wine. "I am pleased to report," she offers largely for Daryl's sake, "that my feet came away unscathed."
Kamron arches his eyebrows at the reaction to his mention of the night before, glancing over to Saffron and smothering a bit of a grin before he nods his head, explaining to Ilaria, "An entertaining tradition, Lady Ilaria. Usually it just involves some dancing, some singing — usually bad. I'm sure that it was harmless, except to Lord Alric's head and stomach this morning." Glancing out over the dance floor over one shoulder, he adds, "You could probably find those in charge by making a great deal of noise and seeing who flinches."
Lady Jaimera half-smirks with a mouthful of wine (she knocks it back rather less daintily than her niece) and is moved to tilt her cup in reflection of the salute she receives — she doesn't often think of someone being like unto herself, but as a regular and tenacious litigant she recognises that Lady Ceinlys has put a good case. "It's true, you can't turn a pickled onion to a berry preserve by inscribing a fresh legend upon the jar," she agrees.
And then to the introduction, not sought but most politely made: "My lord of Ashwood, how is it that I could have failed so long to claim the pleasure of your acquaintance?" The words are eminently courtly, but the tone perfunctory. "And your father, Ser Jo— I beg your pardon, Lord Ashwood? How fares he? One hears so little of him, one might suspect him of being the unlikely hero of a mere ballad, wafting insubstantially o'er the land, were you not amongst us to put the lie to such fancies with your very solid presence."
Bella dips into a curtsy at the time Erik bows to her, straightening when he moves into position, quite comfortable with the Jast Knight as she places her hand on him, laughing at his suggestion, "Of course, Ser Erik," a quick lift of an eyebrow, a flash of a smile that lingers in her eyes. As they pass the deputy, she greets them as well, "Lord Daryl, Lady Laryssa." Missing both looks.. Or rather intentionally not commenting on them.
Aemy replaced her goblet on the table and when Robben asks her to dance, she rises gracefully, hand placed gently in his. "I would love to share this dance with you, my lord." Allowing him to lead her out to the flloor where he will curtsy to him, a shy smile given.
All this time, the bastard of Frey has been standing - nay, swaying, increasingly bloodily - at the floor's edge. He has not touched a drop, but it doesn't look that way, and that fine new doublet has definitely seen its last. Black, by the way…not the first time he's favoured a get-up like a Night's Watchman, but an odd choice for a wedding. Then again, he's rarely at them. Reeling back towards the tableful of Freys, he smiles dizzily on them, "See, I donned mourning for the Lord of Highfield, at the last."
It is a voice that carries quite so well as his previous song. Then, with a grimace that oddly combines cruelty and empathy, he murmurs to Firth Frey, "Would you could dance, sis; it seems no other partner sallies to me…"
At that, the bespattered bastard looks lingeringly back again upon the high dais; and then he laughs, a sere mirth as grey as his House's arms and his father's face. "But since she…since no one is forthcoming, I am for the hay of the Haighs; my duty done…"
His lady aunt gets no formal farewell, but a dutiful nod as he passes out and away, no doubt looking quite bedraggled and gloomy enough to well entertain the nearby Steward of Broadmoor.
The young Fenster's jaw clenches visibly for just a moment, but it is not necessarily anger at the idea of a drunken bachelor party. She spares a disparaging glance toward Alric as he leans in to press a kiss to her cheek, but the matter of excessive drinking and dancing does little to perturb her. Rather, Kamron's sugggestion seems to cause her features to brighten considerably. "Oh!" she murmurs, letting slip a girlish giggle as she reaches up to trail the tip of her right index finger over her lower lip. "Oh, I see. Well, I hope you had quite a bit of fun, my lord. No wonder you were looking so haggard this morning." She reaches up to brush a bit of imaginary lint from Alric's shoulder, and in doing so catches sight of Maldred making his departure.
"Your friend, dear husband," she murmurs ever so quietly in Alric's ear, leaning in as close as she can manage, "looks as if he is half-dead. I implore you to watch, please, as he weaves his way toward the door like a drunken imbecile, and perhaps in the future you will spare me your jealous imaginings. He is injured, and it is affected his head." Her gaze follows Maldred intently, eyes burning with an indescribable emotion.
"Oh I believe I stepped on them a couple times," Daryl insists towards Laryssa, as his eyes travel downwards towards his feet, "It's just these cushy new boots that saved your pain." A small chuckle, though now he just hefts up the goblet and gulp…Gulp…Gulp…He exhales lightly, getting it down to near empty, and swirling the remainder there. "I said I -could- be, didn't say I would." A light chuckle, though his eyes drift curiously to Bastien and Ceinlys before eyeing the pitcher that had been his best friend so far tonight. Reaching…
And it's empty. Daryl blinks with distaste and makes his way down the table some, idly eyeing drinks as he goes. Finding another pitcher, he reaches and steals it away from whoever it is who was previously using it and moves to fill his goblet back to the brim, whistling lightly. His eyes have a bit of a glaze over them now. "Want to be social? Lets be social." He speaks towards Laryssa, eyeing the group around moving to step off whether she decides to follow or not. He slows as he spots Aemy and Robben moving to dance, and his hand tightens around his goblet till his knuckles are white, while a pleasant smile comes on his features. A look left, right? And who does he decide to bother? His Lord cousin Bastien. Stepping that way, the Ashwood makes careful approach, moving to fall behind the man and offer one of those shoulder-squeezes, not yet butting into the conversation. A look towards Ceinlys and he offers a smile, and to Jaimera as well, before he checks to see if Laryssa is still with him or not.
Rising from her seat after she finishes her drink Firth picks up her cane and moves to head out. She stops when her brother addresses her about the dance and for a moment her face is like carved marble and her eyes hard to read. She looks at Maldred. "If it is what you wish Brother then yes, but perhaps some fresh air.." The words die on her lips and she grows quiet again as she watches him as he finishes talking. She stands there waiting.
With an invitation like that, how can she not? Never mind that Daryl holds the keys to some things Laryssa is curious about. The woman ensures she gets a new fill for her goblet as well before she trails after the Ashwood. Rather than the perfectly smoothed expression she wore at the beginning of the festivities, there's a bit of a smirk there now. Continual bemusement at this point. There is a glance for the dance floor and she steps up alongside Daryl, leaning in to murmur to the man.
Lord Bastien's shoulders rise and fall with a shrug when Lady Jaimera levels the question of his father towards him. "He fares as well as one might expect, having a vassal house fall into his lap and all the responsibilities that come with." Reaching forward to play with the neck of his goblet, the Young Lord's gaze slips slowly towards the thing as he pulls it up to his mouth. "He's little time for social calls. Not yet." Those last two words are spoken with a strange certainty, and after a moment Bastien's eyebrow lifts as he feels his younger cousin's hand on his shoulder.
Alric looks towards Maldred as Ilaria leans in, nodding his head at the whispered words. Leaning back to her to whisper in turn. Looking towards the Frey bastard as he departs. There is not much said from Alric currently, other than having given the two Mallisters smiles and appreciating nods to them.
"I believe Kamron was quite the same state the morning of our own wedding," Saffron reassures with a gentle smile. "But certainly Lord Alric looks quite better off." She then allows the couple a moment of whispering before she brightens once more to Ilaria. "I'm to stay in Broadmoor for a couple days before we can return to the Roost. The Maester and Mistress Dania both were insistent I don't overdo travel. Perhaps you and Katrin will take a tea with me so we can catch up."
Moving to the rhythm of the excellent quality music that is being provided right now, Erik appears to enjoy the dancing that they share, from time to time releasing the hand that is at her hip to release her out and then back. When she returns to his arms, the Jast catches her properly while saying in softer words, "You are definitely much better than me on your feet this time, My Lady." It does appear that Erik is a tad slower in reacting today, perhaps the party at the inn last night is still having some affects on him or something else.
Once again, maybe late is better than not at all and in keeping with his reputation, Perrin steps into the Lords hall. He takes a moment at the door, looking over the celebration that goes on. Only when a passing serving girl goes by does he step on in and grabs a mug of ale. Nods her and there to those he knows of Broadmoor as he makes his way towards the head table through the many that has gathered.
His smile widening a bit as he hears Aemy's words, he gets to his feet as well. Gently taking her hand in his, Robben smiles a bit as he leads the way out onto the floor now. "Thank you, Lady Aemy," he offers a bit quietly, before he offers a bow to her, and another smile as he starts leading in the dance.
"I am delighted to hear it, cousin." Seeing as Jaimera engages Bastien in pleasant - for her, anyway - conversation, Ceinlys looks up and toward Laryssa and her favorable dance partner, smiling. They did make quite the striking couple out on the floor. Daryl's smile is returned pleasantly, also, before she turns attention back to Bastien and Jaimera. Save a brief glance to Maldred as he passes, anyway. Wouldn't want to miss the delicious comedy of that graceless departure.
When Maldred leave Firth quietly slips away, by hopefully blending into the crowd. She soon is gone.
When Daryl smiles at the lady Jaimera, he is so unfortunate as to catch her eye for an instant; she looks at him with an utter dearth of recognition or interest, then lets her gaze pass on to the plenitudinous repast presently being set before her by one servant of Broadmoor's and one of her own. She is a fine trencherwoman, particularly when it's on someone else's coin, and it is clear from her attitude that the viands — and the cup of brandy filled within a whisker of its brim — are of more pressing moment to her than any Young Lords, hangers-on, or even nieces, who might intrude upon her mastications.
Still, she offers a final word or two to Bastien. Three words, to be exact. "I quite understand." And then, ignoring also the exodus of Maldred (she'll tear a strip off him later, never fear), she attacks (that really is the word) a roast pigeon with all the vigour of an old lady who only shows up to these things for the food anyway.
Kamron politely ignores the quiet words between newest married couple on the Cape, although his smile returns when Ilaria's does. He nods at Saffron's statement, "I believe I was approximately half alcohol that evening." He brightens a moment after Saffron makes her suggestion, taking the small book back from Saffron and offering it out to the married couple, "I almost forgot. We thought this might be something entertaining to read together."
Daryl's glazed hues shift towards Laryssa for the moment, having been ready to speak to Bastien granted ample time, though whatever she murmurs gets his attention right quick. He blinks once at her. Twice. At first, he looks like he's about to blow up with anger, but then… "You know what? Your right." He move to step away then, and as he passes Ceinlys he offers a quick few words and continues onwards to heft his wine glass up for a sip, and randomly pick up a tankard of ale in his free hand. A man on a mission. Hefting the ale, then the wine, he takes a good slurp of each before the flashy surcoat wearing Deputy spots an old friend.
"Lord Perrin!" He exclaims as he nears, looking at his now full hands, and taking a long swig of his ale before setting it aside and wrapping an arm around the Haigh's shoulder, almost like a headlock, but not quite. Ugh. He could likely smell the drink on him, of all kinds. "There you are, my friend! Where in the hell have you been hiding!"
"Ah, yes…" Martyn offers to Mortimer, after a few moments of pause now. Looking around for a few moments, he spots Perrin, and offers the man a bit of a nod now, before he looks back to Mortimer. "If you can excuse me for a few moments, Master Trevelyan, there's someone I need to have a few words with…"
Mortimer follows Martyn's glance to Perrin then nods his understanding to the Mallister. Standing up properly, so he's no longer leaning on the wall behind him he answers "of course m'Lord," before offering a short but respectful bow.
The reaction to her words is not quite what Laryssa had expected, but by her expression… she is not surprised, either. A slight furrow forms between her brows and lips press into a bit of a line. She tracks his departure to her cousin and gives a small shake of her head. The smile she offers towards Bastien and Ceinlys is a bit strained, but she inclines her head: "My apologies." And, unless spoken to, she will step aside herself, though seemingly without a specific goal.
If Alric's words have any affect on Ilaria, she is quite good at keeping her features assembled into a mask of amusement and pleasure. Her gaze flickers sidelong to her husband briefly, but she does not make a verbal reply as of yet. Instead, the offer extended forth by Saffron piques her interest and she reaches out to grasp her friend's hand in excitement. "Of course, my lady! Of course, we would be more than happy to host a tea for you, my dearest. I am all giddy with knowing that you will be here at least a day or two longer. I know Kitty will be ecstatic, especially if she misses you today."
When the moment has passed, she pulls her hands back and clasps them together loosely, looking back to Kamron as he speaks. The book presented draws forth a charmed smile, and Ilaria accepts the gift with a bow of her head. "Thank you, Lord Kamron, Lady Saffron - thank you both. I think we will enjoy reading this together, will we not, my lord?" The question is offered to Alric with the quirk of an eyebrow, and she holds out the book to him after a moment of thumbing through the pages.
Perrin lowers his mug as he spots Daryl making his way in his direction. A wipe of his mouth on his sleeve and a laugh as he looks at the two fisted drinker "Lord Daryl! I see you have your hands full?" Again he chuckles "Tell me, how have you been? Oh, and I am glad you made it all the way out here to Broadmoor. I hope you have found it as great as I think it is." His eyes sift a bit and he spots both Mortimer and Martyn and to each he gives a nod as well as a smile.
With all the music and the press of people Nedra has slipped away from the table yet again, only to return with a small plate of finger food fetched from the banquet table. She sets it down near Lord Brennart and wonders in a quiet voice: "Lady Muirenn has taken her leave, do you think she'll be returning?" she wonders. The same servant with his tray of brandy passes near Firth and offers her a refill before carrying another one over to where Nedra is seated and setting another slender glass beside the Mallister woman and continuing on.
When the music continues and Erik dances with her, Bella gains even more confidence as they move together, an easy smile on her face and delight in her eyes. Her eyes do not break from his even when the releases her only to catch her perfectly again. At his compliment, she only gives him a teasing grin, "Perhaps the late hours you kept." Adding briefly after, "At the inn. though truly, I can find no fault. You are as brilliant as I remember." Perhaps catering to his ego, but where could a lady go wrong there?
Aemy follows Lord Robben to the dance floor, curtsying as he bows to her, moving quite easily into his welcome embrace, she dances perhaps just a little nearer than she should, though still, their bodies do not touch. Vivid blue eyes remain locked with those of Lord Robben as he leads her in a dance. "Finally, we get to dance." As many times as they had meant to, dances at weddings had never worked out for the pair.
Alric just smiles to Ilaria before attention shifts to Saffron and Kamron. Letting the ladies talk for a moment. "I never have asked, but I do hope your last time has been an enjoyable time. I have seen very little of you. If you do have the time, I would be glad to spend time to meet before you leave." Not going into more detail about that for now. As the book is offered he looks at it and smiles. "IT looks great, thanks!" He offers to them before smiling wide and nodding to Ilaria. "So I do believe. I am quite positive that we will actually." Taking the book if she keeps it reached out to him.
Arching a brow as she watches that odd little exchange between Daryl and Laryssa, the Steward offers a gentle nod of understanding to the latter, as she tries to save the moment with courtly etiquette. No mean feat, in her present company. Ah well. Briefly watching the Ashwood Lordling as he approaches her older brother, Ceinlys lifts her wine a little in salute toward her sibling across the hall, before taking a slow sip of the contents. Seeing as her tyrannical aunt has been placated with roasted bird - that should take her some time to chew through, even with such gusto - the young lady can safely return her attention sidelong to the Young Lord she's seated with. Dangling her wine between a thumb and forefinger, swaying it idly, she remarks, "I would suggest a dance, m'lord.. but I fear I neglected to wear my armored boots for the occasion."
Catching Perrin's nod out of the corner of his eye, Mortimer returns it with one of his own. He's half tempted to head closer to greet the man properly, but with him already in conversation with Daryl and Martyn having just taken his leave to have a few words he figures he'd just be intruding on the existing conversations so instead drains what remains in his tankard before heading towards a likely looking servant for a refill.
At that, Erik can only laugh in amusement as he nods his head in agreement, "yes… the late hours at the inn. My Deputy certainly knows how to throw a good party, lots of drinking, dancing, and what some may not consider to be singing." Eventually the music slows and another one appears to be picking up soon. The Jast does slow his steps before pulling back and bowing to his partner, "Thank you for giving me the honor of this dance, My Lady. Though I do not believe I should monopolize your time tonight, your Lord Brother is the most important noble here tonight, and his Lady Sister should make an appearance."
"By the fucking Seven, I do!" Daryl says to Perrin, the alcohol he's been consuming loosening his tongue some. The beginnings of a possible disaster. Though not always! He loosens his grip on the man, but moves to guide him along as he did similarly the last wedding they found eachother at, "The Old Hoe is godsdamned -amazing-. I never seen such a…Fine establishment, in -all- my years. I swear. I might find myself there after all this." Hopefully not. "Come on, M'lord. Lets walk and talk! There's so many I haven't mingled with yet."
Daryl passes Laryssa, moving to whisper a few words to her and lightly motion her towards the dance floor. Then? He's headed for a beeline motion for Ilaria, Alric, Kamron and Saffron, and whoever else may be by, still trying to bring Perrin along for the ride. He tilts his mug back for a few gulps before breaking into conversation towards the newlyweds, "Y'know…" He trails, just shaking his head in absolute wonder and disbelief…"I…Have never seen a couple quite like you two…You." He eyes Ilaria, "You are just sooo.." He mulls about, looking for words, "So…Smart. And well put together. And you know what?…I feel like a guest of honor. I truly do. That means you keep your promises too. And I like that." Towards Alric, a devious grin, "And -you-, My Lord…Well. Never have I seen a man dance like you…I mean," He releases Perrin, looking at his own feet and doing his best imitation of a tap dance that Alric probably never actually did, and it just looks outright goofy. "Your lucky, Lady Ilaria…To have him, and uhh.." Seems he's run out of words. "…Great wedding." He lifts his mug for a long sip, and raises his brows twice at Perrin. "Cheers." He'll clink his mug.
"Now, if you will at least excuse me, the boys are making my feet hurt and ankles swell, and I must go stare longingly at the dance floor," Saffron says with a good-natured smile that gentle sets in those dimples. She steps forward to embrace Ilaria once more in a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "We will talk more later when your attention is not required elsewhere." She then gives Alric a gentle nod of her head before she steps up to press a gentle kiss to her husband's cheek. "Go, find a lovely Lady to dance with that won't be so hampered as I am." She glances toward Daryl as he smakes his way in to the conversation, and she steps out of the way to find a blessed chair.
Jaimera hangs about in case she can find anyone else to be rude to after dinner. Cough.
"I would not bruise your tender toes." Bastien doesn't miss a beat as he looks away from Ceinlys towards those who are dancing. "I don't understand the appeal." The contents of his cup are finished off, and the goblet is placed back upon the table and pushed away. "Lady Firth has been seeking an audience with me. About what, I've no clue. I've spent enough time avoiding the woman."
Before excusing himself, Bastien stares at Ceinlys for a long moment. The man's face a blank slate as he seems to watch her, taking in the sight of the woman in an almost awkward way. When that stare has gone on nearly too long, the man levels a simple comment at her. "You look beautiful." With that, he's pushing his way out of his chair and turning away to find the Frey Lady so that he might find out what she needs of him. Duty calls.
Robben smiles with a nod to Aemy. "Yes, finally we get to dance. The first of many more dances in the future," he offers with a smile as his own gaze meet hers. "I hope you are enjoying the festivities, my lady?" Aside from the question, he keeps silent, just enjoying the dance and the closeness to the lady for now.
Martyn nods a bit, offering a smile to Mortimer. "Thank you," he offers, before he starts heading over in the direction of Perrin and Daryl now. Pausing to get himself something to drink, as he approaches the people now, perhaps a bit slowly.
There's a polite incline of head from Laryssa to the nobles she's standing by and the woman drifts away. It's a bit aimless until Daryl is passing by and whispering to her again. She downs the rest of her goblet in short order, staring after the Ashwood. Pale blue gaze has a bit of a clouded look to it- emotions, wine, or both giving such nature to her. The emptied vessel is passed off to a serving girl — hopefully it's a serving girl and not some distant girl of a small house. As Erik and Bella depart the dance floor, Laryssa makes her way towards them to intercept.
Ilaria allows Alric to accept the book, that having been her initial intention, and then she steps into Saffron's embrace. Her lower lip protrudes in a mock pout, but she gives her friend a slight push on the arm and gestures toward a series of empty seats at a table. "Go rest yourself, my dearest. I would not wish you to be anything less than comfortable. And you, Lord Kamron, I have seen plenty of ladies sitting idle at their tables. The men so often prefer to stand about and drink with each other and alternately rumble and roar about their many—well, their whatevers. My lord, I am feeling a little thirsty. Could you find a cup of wine for me?" The last is directed toward Alric, and she turns toward him suddenly. To emphasize the request, she reaches up to curl her fingers around Alric's bicep for a moment. "Please and thank you.
"Just another matter I shall do my best to educate you on, then." teases the ebon-maned Steward, though the glance she gives Bastien is fond. "..all the finest ladies enjoy dancing." As he explains the reason for his departure, though, she grimaces just a little. "Hmm.. well, maybe not all. Do enjoy." Flashing the Lord a swift grin, she casts her gaze back out toward the dancers, entirely missing the man's lingering stare in her wine-fuddled distraction. Until he speaks, that is.
Blinking, she looks his way, as if to confirm that he actually said such a thing out loud.. but he's already making good his escape, rising from his seat and leaving her seated beside the steadily chewing elder Frey. Oh Gods. More wine! Now. She proffers her empty goblet, still watching the tall Ashwood as he makes his way through the crowd, and remaining otherwise quite still as a servant refills her cup.
As he looks from Martyn and Mortimer Perrin spots his sister. His gaze lingers there for a time till a slight dip of his head and a wink is given to her wine salute. Perrin's attention is jerked back to Daryl and he laughs all the harder. "Ah yes, the Old Hoe! Many an hour has been spent in there. He follows along as he's led. "But keep in mind, I plan to not dance. I am not sure of my feet having just arrived." From where is not said. Finding himself led to where Alric and Ilaria are he bows, resting his eyes on the bride "Cousin, you look amazing," he cuts his eyes but not his head to Alric "And you, well you are you. But my congratulations to you both. I am very happy for you both. And it gets her out of my bloody house," the last is said with a chuckle and a wink. As Martyn nears he dips his head "My friend, good to you see you again and here in Broadmoor. I knew some how we would drag you here."
Kamron bows his head at the responses to the gift, "We won't feel bad if you set it aside for a few days, I promise." Alric's words draw a faint frown of thought to the Mallister man's features, but he nods, "We will be here for several days before My Lady can safely return to Terrick's Roost. But please, do not let me drag you away from your lovely new wife." Saffron's words draw a nod, and he tilts his head aside so that she can easily kiss his cheek — given that they're within a few inches one another in height, it's not much of a stretch. "Perhaps I'll offer Lady Ilaria her second dance, after her new husband." He nods to Ilaria, "And then I'll see that some of the ladies sitting idle have a dancing partner." The loud arrival of Daryl causes him to turn and nod a bit stiffly, although Perrin walking attendance with the other man gets a bit deeper of a nod.
After placing her request with Alric, Ilaria turns to catch sight of Daryl in his approach. The odour of wine seems to roll off of his person like the breeze off the ocean, and Ilaria reaches up to cover her mouth and nose with her sleeve…politely. She feigns a yawn behind the silken fringe, eyes glazing briefly before refocusing on the Ashwood. His eager, drunken ramble has her nodding and leaning forward as she attempts to follow it from thought to thought. "Of - of course, my lord, and - well, you flatter me, truly, and I thank yo - yes, I try to keep them - of course well, yes. You are welcome…"
Her voice trails off as Daryl turns his attention to Alric. Blushing faintly, she reaches up to touch her hair carefully and flick a stray lock back into place while offering Perrin a smile of greeting. "You did not push me very far, cousin, if your aim was to get rid of me. You should have exiled me to Stonebridge like poor Sabriel, in that case. Now you shall never be rid of me."
While Mortimer's requested refill gets him a faintly funny look from the server. Non-alcohlic? At a wedding? Really? A quick mention of having to stay alert to safeguard a lady gets him a sympathetic nod and an offer of a beer from the kitchens when he is able. Water acquired though he finds himself almost directly in Saffron's line of advance line of advance and so offers a customary bow of obedience before making sure he's out of her way.
With laughter still dancing in her eyes, Bella shares the amusement with Erik, even as the song ends. "Monopolize is a very strong word, Ser Erik. It is not so, when the time spent is voluntary, so should you find yourself in need of another dance partner, feel free to find me." Offering a curtsy and a quick look only he could interpret, she rises. "I suppose I must share you. Thank you for the dance, it was exciting. As always." Leaving him to Laryssa she has noticed the arrival of Perrin, walking towards him now, pausing to speak with some along the way.
"The first of many more dances, and I look forward to each and everyone we share." Aemy agrees with her soon to be husband. "The festivities are quite lovely, though I know we are leaving Broadmoor directly after the dancing celebration ends." Glancing towards the couple, she sighs, "I think there has not been a good time to offer our congratulations to the newlyweds.."
So that's the first thing Aeron gets to run into is something about Stonebridge being a prison. Oh goody. Where's Sabriel, where is she? Nowhere to be found. Either that, or she's off hiding somewhere. Like he should be. Because there's a lot of people here that he doesn't know. So like any smart man he's going to go hang around the side of the wall, like any good high school outcast would.
"It's good to be here, and to see you again, my friend," Martyn replies to Perrin, offering a bit of a grin. "I hope you have been doing well?" Another brief pause, and he offers a bit of a smile. "And of course you would somehow drag me here. I seem to remember you suggesting that I'd come visit for a while, after all." Once more, there's a few moments of pause, before he adds, "Maybe this would be a good time to stay for a little while, then?"
Alric nods to Saffron first while taking the book. "Do rest, lady Saffron. I will keep an eye on your husband." HE teases with a wink. As for Ilaria's request, he teasingly roll his eyes though his grin and eyes do show amusement. "If you do allow me a dance." He tells her and winks. "I will only be gone a moment." Then he will move away for a bit, getting the wine. The book making sure to be taken cared of and placed where they can get it. Though not before grinning and bowing his head to Daryl, laughing a bit. "Why thank you, lord Daryl." Then he is off. Though it is isn't long before he does come back with a cup to Ilaria and one for himself.
"Then I thank you for your time and the dance, My Lady, and I certainly will seek you out again." Erik says, flashing a grin to the Fenster, inclining his head respectfully before watching her depart.
After Erik separates from the Lady he escorted to the wedding, the young knight appears to be looking for a drink and lucky for him, a passing servant is carrying a tray full of drinks. Grabbing a glass of wine, he takes a slow sip, looking to savor and wet his parched throat from that dance. However, he spots the Haigh Lady coming straight for him apparently, and in quick order finishes the rest of the wine in the cup.
Just in time as that is when Laryssa nears, Erik quickly giving the Haigh girl a smile and a bow of his head, "Lady Laryssa…" Now, it seems like the young knight is trying to find the appropriate words to say, deciding to try with a lighter set of comments, spoken a bit quieter so the words do not carry as much, "I trust my Deputy accorded himself properly and you enjoyed your dance with him?"
There's a smile as Robben nods a bit at Aemy's words, following her gaze towards the couple. "Perhaps we should do so soon then, so we won't forget it?" A brief pause as he looks around. "But for all the lovely festivities, it will be good to get more of this travelling taken care of at the moment. He hasn't noticed Daryl's approach yet, though.
A bit of a cloud passes over Perrin's features as Ilaria speaks of Stonebridge. His smile only falters for a moment till it finds it's place once again. "I think Sabriel has found a good home there." No, he won't even say the name of the place. Turning to Martyn he grins "Please, stay as long as you wish. I promised you a guide to see all that Broadmoor has to offer and I plan on doing as I promised." The last is said a bit conspiratorialy perhaps. "And with you and Daryl here we must go hunting. Though this time something more tame that the last we three went hunting. And" he looks to Daryl "no tree climbing."
There's just something in the air of Broadmoor, isn't there? Men cower in the presence of a Haigh woman. Maybe it's why Laryssa was so overjoyed to return to her home. Or, well, it could have been homesickness as well. The young woman clasps her hands gently before her, bringing arms in along her torso. Lips curl in a small smile at the Sheriff of Highfield. "Ser," she offers with a slight tilt of her head. "Yes, he did. I do not think I have witnessed him compose himself so well. My feet, I am pleased to report, came away unscathed."
Daryl quickly lifts his mug for another sip, in good spirits it seems, or atleast trying to be. There's a returning nod towards Kamron and he snickers a bit towards Perrin then, "I promise I won't force you to go dance again, my friend. I'm already in the process of doing that with someone else. Look, look." There's a small pointed finger towards Erik and Laryssa, "See?" The Ashwood turns his attention back to Ilaria, and despite her attempt at polite gesture, he notices. "I…" He spots Alric head off, and speaks loudly after him, "Your welcome."
Back to Ilaria, "No..No, thank -you-, alright? Thank -you-." And..That's that. Daryl gives another nod and moves towards a table, setting down his near empty and slapping Perrin lightly on the back as he passes, moving to grab another. He simply stands off to the side of the dance floor, arms folding in amusement as he eyes Erik and Laryssa with a wide grin. Unfortunately…He spots another dancing couple, whoever that may be, and his face turns a bit redder. Fingers flit restlessly as they rest along his opposite arm…Pondering. Then, he takes a long slurp of his ale, moves to set the mug, and step towards the dance floor. Towards Aemy and Robben. "No promises!" he calls back to Perrin.
Saffron pauses to cast a broader smile toward Mortimer, bowing her head gently as she gently steps away to find herself a seat. "Keep an eye on him, Ilaria," Saffron says with a laugh in regards to Kamron before she settles into the seat and immediately has someone sweep in to give her something to eat and drink. She must be giving the famished look.
There is a pleasantly surprised look on Erik's face when Laryssa's answer is actually positive. "I see… then I am glad to hear that he has composed himself well, and that your feet are uninjured." There is a pause before he then extends his hand to the Haigh lady, the typical confident smile present as usual, "Then would you care to risk your feet again and honor this Jast Knight a dance, My Lady?" The other hand is still holding an empty wine glass but if his hand is accepted, the container will be given to a passing servant.
Kamron shakes his head as it's promised that he's going to be looked after, laughing softly, "Dance with your husband, Lady Ilaria, and then I will come find you for one myself, if you will grant it me." That will also keep the drunks away from her for a little while longer. "In the mean time, however, I think that I will get something to nibble on, if you will excuse me."
When the next song begins, Aemy remains out on the floor, her skirt rustles around her legs as he sways her. "After this song then?" The Erenford offers to Robben, though she seems in no apparent hurry to depart the dance floor, enjoying the moment as it is, a space out of time she can be this near him without having to worry about.. rules.
Cup still in hand, Ceinlys murmurs a polite excuse to her aunt - who's frankly still more interested in her plate and brandy - and rises from her seat in a single smooth motion, golden skirts sweeping the floor around her slippered feet. A cursory glance is cast over the hall as the Haigh daughter sets off, taking a seemingly unhurried stroll around the periphery of the dancefloor and sipping intermittently at her wine as she goes. Left to her own devices for the first time today, the young lady indulges in a faint smile, looking around the sea of faces, some familiar, some not, and in particular toward her cousin and her new husband. There's a strange air of detachment to her expression, though - a faraway mist to her vivid blue eyes.
All too soon, the stolen solitude is swept aside. Catching sight of Daryl as he heads purposefully through the crowd, Ceinlys at first thinks nothing of it. Then she notes his path. For the love of all the Gods.. Setting her goblet down abruptly on the closest table, the young lady strides easily into the fray, intercepting the young Lordling and setting a hand lightly to the crook of his elbow, seeking to half-spin him to face her and, to all who may onlook, silently demand a dance. She steps closer, setting her other hand in the air, ready to be taken and - with an icy smile - regards the man expectantly. Not very ladylike, perhaps.. unless one sees the intent behind it.
"Thank you, my lord," Ilaria murmurs to Alric as she accepts the wine, sipping from it and watching as Daryl takes his leave in haste. She arches an eyebrow, but does not seem interested enough to inquire after him; instead, she turns back to Saffron and bestows upon her friend a gentle smile. "Of course I will, my lady. It will help if he takes up a dance partner, though. Lord Alric has pestered me enough with requests, and I cannot hold him off any longer." After downing another swing of wine, she sets the cup beside Saffron. "Guard my drink."
Stepping away, Ilaria turns back to Alric, and without a word she takes his hand and drags him bodily away from conversation and into the throng of people sweeping about in dance. She stops in a clear space and turns to face her new husband, holding up her hands and waiting patiently for him to process the change of events. "We can dance, but I will not talk about that. It is so silly that it is not worth my time."
"I was as surprised as you are," Laryssa says to Erik with a soft laugh, lifting her hand to place it lightly within his. "I would love to, Ser Erik," she replies, a small smile coming to her features. "Your Deputy has implied that last evening's events in town were calm and composed. Does he tell true? Because I was unaware he was capable of anything less than loud revelry."
And just like any other high school dance, Aeron is content to hang around, apparently just waiting for Sabriel to show up. Not because he particuarlly wants her to show, but damn, that's about the only other person in Broadmoor that he possibly trusts enough to not expect anything. Settling down to lean against the wall, he decides it's up to him to hold up it, even if he does snatch an errant glass on a server's plate. He's here, and he is, if anything just watching. Give the man some credit, that takes willpower.
Carrying a glass of the brandy that she's been sipping, Nedra spots her brother in the thick of the crowd that spreads ever outward from around Ilaria and Alric, Nedra weaves her way through the crowd in his direction. She pauses alongside the table where Saffron is seated and gives her good sister a quick hug and a murmur of, "Saffron, you look radiant," before continuing on. She eases through the crowd in time to wave to her brother and offers him a glass of the brandy she's carrying.
"Thank you," Martyn offers with a bit of a smile at Perrin's words. "I've sort of looked forward to seeing more of Broadmoor. My last visit here was only a brief one, after all." A brief pause, and a grin at the mention of hunting. "That sounds like an excellent idea," he replies.
Making her way through the crowd, Bella finally manages to arrive at Perrin's side. Tapping one shoulder, she quickly moves to the other side, but she is not intending to hide, instead she faces him and offers a quick hug. "Lord Perrin! It is lovely to see you, would you care to dance?" Quite scandalous her asking him? Nah, they are good friends.
Alric grins and nods. Not getting time to say much before he is pulled along to the dance floor. Listening to her words he chuckles. "I know. But a dance because I enjoyed it more than anything last time we did. That is not too much to ask, right?" Keeping a rather light tone of voice. Shifting to hold her in a correct way of the dance and will start to dance. Keeping her close as he dances it seems. "How about we talk about something else then?" He asks and winks, feeling himself being more in his element now perhaps.
When Laryssa puts her hand into his, Erik takes the Lady's hand gently and begins to lead her to the dance floor when it sounds like a new song is beginning. On the way there though, he eyes beckons a servant over in quick fashion and the goblet is handed over, freeing his hand for dancing. Of course, that is when the interrogation begins and the Jast Knight can only laugh in amusement as his gaze focuses on the Haigh's eyes, his own showing that he enjoys the question that is directed at him. "Completely untrue, My Lady, it was most certainly not calm and composed." With the answer given, Erik gives her a mischevious wink before taking a half step back for some distance to bow to the Lady, before drawing her closer again as his other hand settles on Laryssa's hip.
Youstolemybetrothed-youstolemybetrothed-youstolemybetrothed…Something along those lines is travelling through Daryl's head, and he's getting closer, nearer…When spin! He finds himself face to face with Lady Ceinlys. "Oh, hey." Daryl greets with a clearing of his throat, glancing over his shoulder towards Robben and Aemy, before sliding easily enough into a dancing position with the Steward, one hand set on her side. He's perhaps a bit less proper than the dance he had before consuming mass quantities of alcohol. "I was just…Looking for you," He explains with a raising grin, amused then at how she caught him before he had reached his goal. "…Enjoying your evening?" He seems completely casual with the ordeal, willing to go along with it.
While he's drunk, he's not tripping over himself, not yet anyway, and he leans in to whisper a few hushed words before continuing to dance, setting dark green hues on Ceinlys' icy blue after the comments he makes. Erik gets a look. A snicker. "Okay, so maybe it was a little rowdy," He adds towards Laryssa.
"Then it will be so, a hunt. Maybe not tomorrow," Perrin spots his sister heading to the dance floor with Daryl before turning back to Martyn "With all he has had to drink I do not think Daryl will be in any shape to go. But the next day then." About to say more he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns his head, finding no one he begins to look to the other side when Arabella gives him a hug "Ah, Lady Arabella!" he hugs back before taking a step and looks her over "Another beauty has graced my beloved home. I had thought you would have gotten enough of Broadmoor and myself." He tells her grinning "It is good to see you again, My Lady."
There is somewhat a level of comfort with Erik that Laryssa did not have with Daryl. As if there is an understanding- she knows the limits she may experience there and she knows he will compose himself well. It means she has less need to be guarded. The Haigh girl's lips curve into a smile, her hand finding his arm as his finds her hip. A soft laugh in reply to his answer and she inclines her head, "I had thought as much," she says, casting a glance towards Daryl and Ceinlys as they find their way to the dance floor as well. Relief, perhaps, for she had caught his beeline for Robben and Aemy. "So long as there was not too much property damage, I suppose I can forgive you." Lips curved in a broad smile now.
"After this song it is," Robben agrees with Aemy, as he continues to dance with her. A brief pause as he sees Daryl's approach, then how his cousin is stopped by Ceinlys. Offering a momentary smile in the lady's direction, before he focuses on Aemy again for now, with a smile.
Kamron gathers up some of the post-feast gnoshes, putting something in his thus-far-empty belly. As his sister steps up to join him, he offers her a smile and a lift of the wing that he's methodically stripping of meat. "Neddie." The offer of a brandy causes him to laugh, "Not until I get something to eat. I'd rather not make a fool of myself tonight, since apparently I'm going to be dancing with every eligible young lady in the hall."
Ilaria glances away from Alric, hands slipping into his as he takes over and leads her through a dance. She smiles at those who glance their way, keeping time as carefully as possible; before long, however, she is forced to look back at her husband - and just in time. His whisper drifts over her ear, and she clears her throat as her cheeks flush. "I cannot say, my lord, because I do not know how to describe it," she answers quietly before worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "I am sure in time you will feel differently. People have warned me that it happens in such a way. Oh look, Lord Daryl has managed to wrangle dear Lady Ceinlys into a dance."
"How fortunate that you found me then, hmm?" replies Ceinlys, albeit relenting to a smirk as she settles to a dance with the Lordling. "And I'm having a perfectly pleasant time, thank you." She's not exactly stone-cold sober herself, at this stage.. just enough to foresee a disaster and do what she can to avoid it.
Executing a graceful spin in a whirl of gold and ivory hues, she returns to him smoothly and continues the steady rhythm of the steps; so used to such things that she barely needs think of them nowadays. Offering a smile aside toward Laryssa and Erik as they pass by, she chuckles low in her throat. The ladies weren't exactly on their best behaviour the previous evening, either. They're just smart enough not to bring that up, in this situation. With her other hand lightly resting against the hollow of Daryl's shoulder, Ceinlys sobers somewhat in the wake of his hushed words, meeting his gaze steadily for a good long moment before she murmurs a response.
"Ah, well, in that case," Nedra turns, pointedly scans the room, "shall I make you a list?" she wonders, offering her assistance to her brother with a grin. "I'll be happy to arrange it in descending order of age or alphabetically, which ever you prefer," she further offers. Ever helpful, that's what siblings are for after all. Being helpful.
Having found himself a new section of wall to lean against with his refreshed tankard, Mortimer returns to simply watching the crowds as they form and dispearse seemingly at random. Well, watching them and keeping an eye on Faline of course. A good thing to really, given that he's only a short way into his drink when she decides to duck out for some fresh air meaning he's off too.
Robben chuckles at Perrin's words now, "Sounds like a good plan. There's few things I've found that would make people calmer than a good hunt," he offers. Offering a nod to Arabella as well as she greets Perrin.
A smirk is thrown at Daryl's direction by Erik as he sees that the other man is safely in the arms of Lady Ceinlys who has perhaps temporarily averted a possible scene. The Jast has noticed now that his Deputy is on his way of consuming enough alcohol to go from the amusing intoxication to the over the line, what the hell did he just do, drunk. He does offer the Lady Ceinlys a respectful nod as his feet continues to move with Laryssa's. The dancing, with Erik's guidiance, does move them away from the Ashwood and Haigh pair, just in case there are some words that the Steward wishes to speak where she did not wish to be heard.
When Laryssa offers her forgiveness, under certain conditions, Erik chuckles lightly before nodding, "Then we will accept your forgiveness, My Lady, for nothing was damaged, except for the stock of ale that the Old Hoe may have stored. But worry not, the kegs are refilled by coins so there should be complaints by the innkeeper." He then draws his dancing partner a little closer, perhaps a bit close to the line that separates propriety and impropriety but the young knight remains on the correct side. This is so he can lean in for some hushed words though, his expression a little bit more serious.
A hunt indeed! "I would wish to go on a hunt again," Bella quickly inserts into the conversation, offering Ser Martyn a warm smile as well before her gaze settles back on the Haigh. "My brother made me come home, I was in the Flint camp until recently. I have a few things to go and do after the festivities, in different places that I am excited about. After, though, I will be returning here to stay until whatever event is next. It is always a pleasure seeing you, Ser Perrin." As the dance request probaby was not heard, she only remains standing there, happy to speak with him.
The quondam Lady of Gallowsgrey, having picked clean the bones of her initial pigeon — and several of its similarly butter-drowned chums — and then sent to the same address a quantity of roast swan stuffed with mushrooms and oysters, three thick slices of a tender young auroch which had never done her any harm, and six honeyed dormice, casts down at last her soiled napkin and rises from the table. If she were a man she'd be loosening her belt; but she is Lady Jaimera Trant, or Frey, depending upon how one looks at it, and the golden twin-towered buckle upon her girdle remains where it ever was.
"Bring me a slice of that venison pie," she directs the Frey serving man who has all this time stood to attention behind her chair, "and a bottle of wine with it, in two hours' time. I'm not to be disturbd before then, I have a letter to write."
She hovers a moment on the threshold of the hall, inspecting all the young folk whirling about enjoying themselves. It is their day now, not hers — and she's just as glad to be out of it. She sniffs, she swivels, she stalks away.
Martyn chuckles at Perrin's words now, "Sounds like a good plan. There's few things I've found that would make people calmer than a good hunt," he offers. Offering a nod to Arabella as well as she greets Perrin.
Daryl blinks a few times at Ceinlys reply, though he keeps in fluid dancing, the booze having loosened him up a little atleast, though he does have to look down at his feet every now and again. "Well," He decides, glazed hues shifting away, "…That doesn't sound good." His attention briefly goes to Aemy and Robben before he pulls his attention towards Erik, and he can't help but chuckle soundly, at what? Who knows. Soon his attention goes back to the young woman who he's dancing with, and he sidles a bit closer as far as spacing goes, saying a few more words in whispered tone, eyes lowered briefly before they meet hers again.
Alric smiles to Ilaria though, even as she worries her lip. "It's a promise, both to myself and you." He tells her a low voice. Eyes then following hers towards Ceinlys and Daryl and it causes a grin on his lips. "Ye, would you look at that. Seems quite fun." He says. Letting his eyes look around a bit at the others present, as well as the other dancing couples. Robben and Aemy getting a smile and a nod of his head as well. Then eyes to go back to Ilaria. "I do hope you have enjoyed yourself today. And that you did yesterday as well." Remembering Ceinlys having arranged something after all.
Setting his still half full mug down Perrin turns first to Martyn "Ser, I hope you will forgive me but a guest of mine wishes to dance," he smiles before turning to Arabella and holds out an arm "My lady, if you would honor me with this dance?" He grins "I shall try my best to not step on your toes." He waits there, arm raised.
Kamron laughs softly at Nedra's suggestion, "I was thinking from West to East, after Lady Ilaria." Glancing over the assembly, he notes, "And why haven't any young men asked you to dance, Neddie? Are they all too busy drinking and talking about manly things? I recall them actually being willing to dance at my own wedding, although I didn't notice a whole lot of what was going on around the hall."
"I think the happy couple are dancing now, perhaps we should wait a little longer now." Aemy is in no hurry to leave the dance floor, it is one of her lives, second only to music. Following Robben's gaze to the approaching then conveniently deflected Daryl, she smiles, though looks back to Robben. "Perhaps you are right. We could speak with them and then be on our way? All of the other Erenfords have gone to the inn, we could go pack in preparation of our departure."
As she's directed away from the Steward and Deputy, Laryssa offers a nod to the two. "I am sure the proprietor more than welcomed your coin. I know you nor Lord Daryl are stingy whhen it comes to that." She tilts her head a bit to listen as the Jast Knight moves in nearer. She does not seem bothered by them dancing upon that line as they dance. It is merely to conversate at lower volumes and such is to be expected in these situations. Her eyes lower in thought, that furrow forming upon her brow. A soft breath is taken before she responds in kind: voice kept low, for his ears only.
Nedra laughs at Kamron's words, shaking her head at her brother. "You know better," she chides her brother with a wry smile. "So, West to East, after Lady Ilaria, in descending order of geographical adjanency perhaps," she suggests, reshuffling the names of the ladies her brother could be dancing with.
Good-naturedly rolling her eyes, Ceinlys subtly draws the dance to a close, even though the music continues on, and somehow manages to steer the young Ashwood vaguely in the direction of the Sheriff. Fortunately, it's only to offer a brief farewell and explanation to the pair. "Cousin, Sheriff.. if you'll excuse me, I must absent myself for a time. I believe the Deputy could use some fresh air." A faint smile is offered toward them, as if she were conversing with other adults over the head of a tired child. Her eyes search momentarily, perhaps for Ilaria, but she doesn't seem inclined to linger at the moment.
Stepping back from the dancing position she and Daryl had assumed, Ceinlys loops her arm easily through the Deputy's and pivots slowly on a heel, guiding him at a lesiruely pace toward the smaller door, leading out to the long gallery.