| Bedecked, Bejeweled and Bedazzling |
| Summary: | The ladies at Highfield help Tiaryn make the final preparations on the morning of her wedding. |
| Date: | 03-Nov-2012 |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Great Hall - Tanglewood Manor |
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| A true testament to the nobility and grandeur of the ruling family, this enormous hall serves as the main gathering and feasting area of Highfield Keep, with a high, vaulted ceiling and tall, narrow windows lining the outer walls, allowing sunlight to stream through. Two long feasting tables, accompanied by benches, serve as a comfortable place to enjoy a meal or quiet discussion and flank the path to the raised dais at the upper end of the chamber. It sets apart those who oversee this Keep and the surrounding lands - a pair of high-backed, elegantly carved chairs none-too-subtly emulating the thrones one might picture in the houses of royalty. A vibrant display of banners decorates the wall behind these; namely the crowned wolf of Highfield, on its field of gold. Cautiously concealed behind these, hidden behind heavily draping curtains unless tied back to allow fresh air to circulate, a set of smaller double doors lead to the gardens beyond. Above, at the peak of the hall's roof and wall, a vast window allows light to pour in through leaded glass stained with vibrant hues, depicting the Seven in carefully inlaid detail. A huge fireplace along the length of the right wall is more oft than not alight and crackling with every fresh log that is tossed into its embers. |
| November 3rd, 289 A.L. |
Having spent most of his time in Highfield in the town itself Alric finally makes his way to the keep. Wandering into the great hall as the morning goes on. Perhaps searching for some people. Or perhaps guessing that they would be found at the keep right now. Most likely having been announced by guards once he came to the keep, so his presence probably known to those in charge. Glancing around a bit once in the grand hall. Trying to take in the sight as it has been awhile since he was here.
What a flurry of activity the Great Hall is already, as the final preparations are made for this momentous day! Servants huff and puff as they haul extra barrels of strongwine and ale against a far wall, others stand on tiptoe at the peak of rickety ladders to hang freshly beaten tapestries and banners, draped for the occasion the length of the hall in sweeping arcs from the rafters. Handmaidens chatter as they unfurl beautifully embroidered runners along the trestle tables and from the kitchens the delicious, savory scents of many hours cooking is steadily increasing, watering the mouths of those who have been far too busy to worry about littles things like eating.
Already attired, with her silky ebon hair swept back from her face with discreet pins and braids, the Lady Ceinlys stands, hands on hips, a short distance from the Hall's dais, her blue eyes thoughtful as she oversees the activity around her. No doubt many of these orders came from her, after all. And Seven knows, nobody likes to displease the Steward, when it comes to the matter of Tanglewood's presentation. Resplendent in gold, a nod to the colors of her own House, the noblewoman seems pleased thus far - if one were expert enough to read her carefully neutral expressions.
As a small troupe of seamstresses arrive, however, having been sent for from the township, the young lady permits a rare smile to tug at her lips and sets toward approaching them with her rangy, elegant stride. "At last! Brigid, do send for the ladies, will you? There's as much space here for final touches as anywhere else.." No doubt her cousins will delight in having shiny new accessories to choose from.. though of course, the true focus of the morning is the bride-to-be. And Ceinlys has even thought to have the majority of the selections in appropriate colours to match Tiaryn's choice.
Brigid does not have to search far for Katrin. The scarred Lady Haigh comes slipping into the Great Hall, her green eyes bright and wide as she surveys the preparations for the wedding. "Oh, Septa Mira, I do feel so out of place," she murmurs quietly. "I have a distinct feeling that we do not belong amongst the happy and cheerful today." The girl stops and takes a few steps back before she's caught by the arm and tugged forward once again. "Come, My Lady, you can do this," Septa Mira encourages. Katrin's eyes drop down, veiling her gaze. "I could not bear to see him," she whispers.
"Ah, Lady Katrin!" Brigid says, dipping down into a curtsey. "I was sent to find you. Right this way." The noble Lady has no choice but to steel herself and nod. After offering another gentle squeeze on her arm, Septa Mira withdraws her hand from her charge and lets the lady stride forward, her chin lifted, silky hair flowing out behind her.
It's when Brigid is sent to collect the ladies, though sometime after Katrin is caught, that Tiaryn is finally lured from her room. She comes down to the great hall with a sweep of skirts, already close to dressed. Two of her maids are with her, carrying the remaining items, Tia's hair currently down, reaching almost to her knees. She smiles as she sees some folks already there. "Good day to you both," is her light hearted greeting. "Lady Ceinlys, you look wonderfully beautiful today. My compliments. Lord Alric, I do hope you are intending to dance today, for if I have my way, there will be dancing for all." A brief pause, as she glances around at the preparations, slightly distracted, but then, she says, "Katrin! I am glad to see you here today. Are you going to help out with the finishing touches. My hair has a mind of its own as usual."
Alric smiles as he sees all the arrangements made for the coming wedding. Soon enough spotting the steward. Starting to walk in a slow pace towards her. Taking in all the work. The sight and scents. Bowing to the lady. "Lady Ceinlys, I must say that things look great." He offers with a genuine smile before looking towards Brigid to see Katrin followed by Tiaryn. Offering a bow to them both. "Lady Katrin, it is good to see you again." He offers before looking to Tiaryn with wide grin, "Of course, my lady. I can not sit all by myself when all others are enjoying the dancing." He says rather cheerfully and sounding a bit playful as well. "And you look wonderful, lady Tiaryn. All of you do."
Having made it back from Stonebridge that morning, Einar has had time to ensure the cousins he brought back with him are settled and then clean himself up form the road. Perhaps it wasn't helped entirely by th efact he brought three cousins and not the expected one, but such is the wya of things with family weddings. Now it seems though that he's made the fatal mistake of asking if he can help with anything and has been roped in to carry 'things'. He's not entirely sure, but they look like decorations and he was asked to take them to Great Hall, where apparently someone would take them off him and do things with them. He'd decided not to dely matters by asking and so arrives in the hall with a small chest under each arm. Spoting the small gathering he waits to be releaved of his burdens and then heads over to join them. He hasn't seen the bride-to-be in days after all.
At the Steward's calm, authoritative request, the newly-arrived seamstresses dip in the most passable curtsies they can muster while laden with bolts and bundles, then obligingly head toward the end of the table she has indicated, in a quieter corner of the hall. Sensibly, a footstool already awaits; a dainty height for a dainty lady, should one need to have her hem mended or pinned. Has she really thought of everything? Well, well.. maybe she does have a fondness for Tiaryn, after all.
As others begin to arrive, the young lady settles her features into a serene smile of greeting, though it typically never quite reaches those icy blue eyes. Spotting her young cousin first of all, she opens an arm invitingly toward the rather unhappy-looking Katrin, offering to link her slender forearm through the crook of her kin's elbow, if permitted and offer a reassuring squeeze with her fingers. She wouldn't enquire, not at this precise moment.
Instead, Ceinlys looks next to the bride, and her soon to be good brother, as each make their entrance to the hall. "Lady Tiaryn.. you look positively radiant, if I might say so. I do hope you'll find this to your liking.." A vague gesture toward the bolts of lush fabric being unrolled clarifies what she speaks of. Though she had made mention of it, she hadn't quite explained the extent of finery she had ordered for the women to fuss over. "Consider it a wedding gift. And Young Lord Alric.." Graciously turning her smile toward the man, the wolfish woman flashes her teeth in a slight grin. "I do look forward to seeing your grace on the floor. Perhaps you might teach Lord Aleister a thing or two, hmm?" The sight of Einar arriving gives her pause, with that curve still lingering on her lips, but she leaves the surprise to fall upon Tia, rather than spoil it.
A genuinely warm smile alights Katrin's gaze as she looks toward Tiaryn. "Oh, you look so lovely, Tiaryn," she greets warmly. "A positively radiant bride. Your soon to be husband is a very lucky man. Stepping first closer to the bride, she offers the woman a friendly kiss on the cheek in greeting if permitted before she steps back and toward her cousin instead. "All looks lovely, Ceinlys," she compliments quietly in greeting, happily allowing her cousin to link arms with her. She's allowed her emotions to be hidden behind the steady smile that never wavers, even as her gaze sweeps the room and comes across Alric. The Haigh girl just tips her head in greeting to the man.
Tia smiles at Alric, offering a "Thank you, my Lord. You are most kind. But if you will excuse me, I cannot possibly stay quite like this .. " She lets those words fade out, but definitely allows the kiss on her cheek. Her hands move to clasp Katrin's hands briefly, before letting her go, unless stopped. Turning next to Ceinlys, she looks where she's directed to. Her eyes widen slightly and her smile does indeed light up her face. "Lady Ceinlys, you are a gem. Thank you," she says, simply. There is a gentle warmth in her gaze, as it seems perhaps she may also feel a friendship for the Steward. Though as Ceinlys gazes past her, Tia does turn to see who is there, and her eyes widen even more. "Einar!" Oblivious to even the finery that had her attention only moments ago, it seems that family outranks shiny in her books, she takes the few steps necessary to give her good-brother a hug. "It is good to see you, I am very glad you are here. I have missed you."
Alric smiles and listens to the talk between ladies before he is addressed by Ceinlys, grinning in return. "I am sure that I can try, my lady. We'll see if a wolf can dance like a swan." He offers rather lightly. Tiaryn's words getting a smile and nod before his gaze follows that of Ceinlys towards Einar. Offering a nod to him in greeting.
Einar isn't going to begrudge Tia a hug, not on her wedding day and he smiles at the embrace. Breaking it after a few moments he takes half a step back, placing a hand on each of her arms so he can take a proper look. "You didn't think I'd miss it did you?" he asks in what is obviously mock offence, "it took a little longer than planned I'm afraid for I have returned from Stonebridge with extra cousins. I assured them though that you wouldn't mind." That said he gives her another quick hug then lets go properly. "You look.." he struggles to find an appropriate word for a moment, ".. radient" yeah, that one will do, it's covers most of it.
Ceinlys seems neither surprised nor offended that Einar's presence so swiftly distracts the young bride, indeed looking over Tia's head to offer a nod of acknowledgement and greeting toward her cousin as he's wrapped in a hug, choosing not to intrude as they reacquaint. Turning her attention for the moment to Katrin, she tilts her head with that little half-smile of hers, softening her tone now that she's not addressing everyone with a hostess' hospitable good cheer. "..thank you, cousin." She still doesn't press - she recognises that mutinous set of jaw, for she does it herself on occasion. Better to let whatever it is wait until they have a quieter moment in which to converse.
Idly beginning to wander in the direction of the swathes of fabric as they are laid out in a vibrant display across the table's end, interested to ensure the quality is high enough for the eyes that will fall upon it shortly, the Steward chuckles low in her throat at Alric's jest, good-naturedly shaking her head at him. When was the last time she got to dance, anyway? All she ever does is work!
She and Katrin, arm-in-arm, stroll toward a gathering of seamstresses, with a veritable rainbow of wares ready to be ooh'ed and ahh'ed over, while Tiaryn herself, closer to the entrance hall, is greeting her cousin, Einar. And Alric? He's loitering about, teasing people, of course.
Sometimes seclusion comes at a high price; one misses out on family gatherings, entertaining events, and interesting conversation. Sometimes they miss out on dresses. Ilaria draws the line at missing out on dresses.
As if a moth drawn by the flickering lure of a candle flame, the young Haigh flits across the threshold from the gardens. Her cheeks are pink from exercise, and her hair is touseled, windblown. Drawing her hands from their warm place tucked up in the opposite sleeve, the girl pauses past the doors to wait for Heolla to catch up. "Look," she murmurs to her companion, her voice breathy with excitement at the frothy array of feminine adornment. One pale hand reaches up to twitch her hair into place, draping it in a dark, silky fan across her shoulders.
"This is such a lovely display, my dearest cousin," she calls out, lilting soprano rising in volume to be heard over the general murmur of the gathering. Swift, graceful steps bring Ilaria closer to Ceinlys and Katrin accompanied by the rustling of her skirts to announce her arrival.
Tia gives Einar a smile, willingly accepting that second hug. She chuckles at his mock offense, shaking her head. "I thought you might be delayed by bandits," she replies, teasing him in return. "And which cousins have you brought back with you? Of course I do not mind, but I am curious." Her head tilts a bit, the long tresses of hair flowing with her movement. She pauses to wait for his answer, her maids hovering around, with their fingers itching to get back to work on finishing up her preparations. She does reach to tug Einar with her, as she too moves towards the glittering shiny display of cloth and accessories that is right there tempting every female within miles.
Alric nods to Ceinlys, "And if he rejects a dance then I am sure others would be able to offer a dance." He says in a still rather playful tone. Studying Katrin as well, though he doesn't ask. Instead looking around a bit. "Oh, do tell me if there is anything I can help with." He offers to them all. Though before anyone can offer anything he spots Ilaria as she speaks to her cousin. Starting towards the Haigh ladies as well then. Seeing as it has mostly split up between them and a reunion between the bride and her goodbrother. With the great hall having been prepared for the coming wedding.
The voice of her sister draws Katrin's attention over all else and she offers Ilaria a warm smile. She holds out her other arm enticingly, trying to draw the younger girl in to the confidences amongst Haighs and former Haighs. "You have managed to accomplish so much, Ceinlys. It is truly remarkable," she murmurs lightly. Alric only gets a very slight narrowing of her eyes as he comes closer but she does not speak out against the Fenster joining them.
Einar isn't entirely sure that a he should be loitering in the hall was the women sort, well, whatever it is they're sorting, but by the mountians of fabric and pins and seven knows what else he figures he's probably safer outside. It doesn't seem though that Tia is giving him the option and so he follows his good-sister, answering her query as they walk "the Ladies Nerys and Anathema and Lord Emrys. I am not sure if you will remember them from Ander's wedding or not," and actually, as he pauses to think for a moment, he can't actually remember if Emrys was there or not, "but they are cousins to my Lord Father." The sound of Ilaria's voice reminds him that there are other people in the room to greet as well and he quickly moves to rectify that. The three women get a polite bow, followed by "Cousins, it is good to see you all well," then Alric gets a brief nod.
It's the true sign of a Haigh woman, enraptured by fine fabrics and little glittering trinkets. But those are still safer flames than others, of late. The display, set upon the end of one of the hall's long feasting tables, is plainly very expensive and apparently organised by the Steward herself as a gift to the day's bride-to-be. And, seeing as the latter is making a beeline for the finery too, Ceinlys slows her graceful stride, in order to allow a sudden crush of bodies around the seamstresses. Judging by her attire, she can likely afford to be patient.. she's hardly lacking in sparkle. Aleister might have found himself a little light of purse, this month!
"Hello, Ilaria darling. And oh, don't force yourself to social niceties, you two. I know you're dying to look." Gently extricating her quietly supportive arm from Katrin, now that her sister has arrived, the ebon-haired Ceinlys ushers them subtly toward the table and the Flints; an indulgent smile playing about her lips.
A smooth intervention, needs be, would leave her standing, arms folded, as she addresses Alric again, glancing up and aside to him with a chuckle. "Was that a very complex suggestion of a dance later, Young Lord? I am most flattered." Yes, she will certainly return the teasing. He knows that, by now. She's only briefly distracted, waggling her fingertips in repeated greeting toward Einar as he bows.
Tia chuckles softly, as she thinks about that. "The more family the better at a wedding," she says resolutely. As she arrives at the finery, she releases Einar, allowing him the freedom to stay or go, as he chooses. "Ilaria, I did not see you arrive, my apologies," she says. "Welcome to the - Fun." She pauses to look at all the finery, and then she lets mischief light up her face. "You must all help me now, to show my best. Camden blue, yes?" And she's now looking at the materials, caught up in the girlishness of the moment. Her blonde curls have not yet been swept up, for once flowing freely near to her knees, and in public at that. Which perhaps explains the maids hovering about her, as they wish to get her bedecked, bejeweled and bedazzling.
Making his way into the Great Hall, Perrin pauses momentairly as he takes in the preperations for the coming wedding. Then he scans those that are present, the smile spreading as he spots more of the Haighs and mostly his sister. With measured strides he makes his way across the great hall and once he is close enough so that shouting isn't neccessary "Ceinlys," he greets first then "Lord Alric, good to see you once again." The other's as they crowd the table are given a chuckle and a tip of his head.
Stepping out of the hall leading toward rooms and guest rooms, Miranda's attention is on a basket over one arm. She does look up on entering the hall only to be startled by the number of people present. Her expression flickers toward shy until she notes the veritable plethera of fine cloth and sparkly bits on the table. A smile tugs at her lips and she takes a few tentative steps toward the finary. Then, her gaze slips back to those in the room. "Lady Tiaryn? Am I intruding if I join you?" Although dressed for mourning, Miranda's gown is still made of fine silk and well crafted. Expensive, if subdued.
Wide, hazel eyes tear themselves away most regretfully from the fine display, dancing up to look first at Ceinlys and then Katrin. Ilaria's awed expression melts into an equally warm smile, and she leans in to wrap her arm about her sister's in the manner of a loved one ready to whisper secrets. "How can it still surprise you what Ceinlys accomplishes, Kitty? Honestly, sometimes you say the silliest things." Wrinkling her nose, she leans in to rub it to her sister's in an affectionate greeting before laughing most girlishly.
Those same eyes full of mirth and mischief turn to Tiaryn, and the girl dips into a respectful curtsey for the bride. "I would not miss your happiest day for the world, Lady Tiaryn, and any excuse to spend my father's money…" As her voice trails into silence, Ilaria straightens and casts a demure glance toward Alric, one directed at him from beneath a fan of dark eyelashes. "And perhaps the Young Lord Fenster's as well."
This thought, combined with Ceinlys' coaxing and the irresistible beckon of fripperies, spurs Ilaria into action, and she jumps forward to swarm the poor seamstresses with Katrin in tow. "Look at the purple one, sister!"
Alric keeps around to be able to help. But does mostly smile and stay silent. Except for being addressed of course. Grinning as Ceinlys offers a tease in return. "Only time can tell, my lady." He continues before offering another nod to Einar as she comes to greet them all. Turning to see Perrin and offers a smile and a bow of his head, "Lord Perrin, it is a pleasure." Then he turns towards Ilaria. The newly arrived lady getting a glance. Perhaps recognizing her slightly. Not enough to know who it is perhaps. Listening to the talk and grinning at Ilaria's words. "So those are the first words offered to me, my lady?" He asks her in a teasing tone.
Perfectly content standing where she is, near Alric, Ceinlys watches the young ladies enjoying a genuine spell of 'fun', that half-smile undiminished. Think what you wish of the noblewoman; when it comes to her family, she does have a soft side. Even for that tearaway Katrin. Blue eyes wander absently in Miranda's direction as the little Ashwood appears, but the Steward, once more, makes no move to intrude. This is not her day, and her duties in the arrangements are almost over. Let them all do as they please.
A murmured word aside to one of the more senior servants is met with a simple nod of understanding. The matronly household retainer snaps her fingers at some others and they troop off toward the kitchen. Now what? Seven knows. But the Lady Ceinlys, following a grin at her two cousins as they compliment her and depart, is suddenly entirely distracted by the sight of a familiar silhouette strolling through the doorway. "Perrin!" It's a rare thing to see any real outburst from the woman, and this one is still considerably restrained.. but she grins broadly as she steps toward him, arms offered toward him in embrace. "I wasn't sure you were coming, brother!"
Einar stands awkwardly for a few moments as he is finally released from his good-sister's hold. Fabrics are, it's safe to say, not his thing, but he figures it'd be rude to vanish entirely, The room though is full of women and the only other men are one he doesn't much like and one he doesn't much know. Not perhaps the finest of choices to converse with but in the end he mutters a brief, "excuse me a moment," to Tia before moving towards Ceinlys and Perrin. He's already greeted, and been greeted by Ceinlys so to her brother he offers a warm smile and a "Cousin, it has ben a while I think," if ever actually, but he's not sure.
Tia hears her name and looks over to Miranda, offering a warm smile. "Not at all, do come join us, Lady Miranda. I am going to plead wedding jitters, and let everyone introduce themselves, yes?" She grins at Ilaria's reaction to the fripperies, looking over at Miranda. "Help me find the perfect blue shades," she asks. "Since we will surely run out of time if I don't start soon." Perrin's arrival is met with a friendly smile, and a "Good day, m'lord." She catches his name from Alric's greeting and then her grin broadens at Ceinlys' reaction to him. Noted. She looks slightly scattered towards Einar, and then nods, as he departs. Her attention swiftly back to the tables. "What about this blue?"
The smile upon Perrin grows as he holds his arms out for the embrace of his sister "How could I miss it," he says once the embrace ends "As always, you have outdone yourself, Ceinlys." When Tia speaks to him a bow is given "M'lady. A great day to you as well." He lowers his head a tad "Father sends his regards, Cienlys and looks forward to seeing you when you can tear yourself away one of these days." His eyes watch the woman by the table, a single brow raised "I do not think it would be wise to get between the Ladies," he tilts his head to where they have gathered by the finery "and the items there in, eh Lord Alric?" As Einar approaches he dips his head "Ah, cousin, it has been a while. I hope you have been well?"
It's almost as if Ceinlys knew what Tiaryn was going to say. Because what's the best thing to soothe jitters? The little line of maids return from the kitchens, bearing trays and pitchers brimming with sweetwine. The group fragments, in order to move discreetly about and among the ladies, ensuring everyone is seen to smoothly. The Steward herself is politely left til last, which gives her time to withdraw once more from her dark-haired sibling. If rumor is to be believed, this brother isn't quite as vicious as the next, who some in this room likely recall. And the young lady seems keen enough to have him introduced, turning toward Einar and flashing a smile toward Alric, too, for his greeting.
Taking up a goblet as it's offered toward her, then accepting another to hand toward Perrin, unthinkingly proper in the presence of such close family, the ebon-tressed woman takes in his appearance with a swift, assessing gaze - well practiced when it comes to judging how her kin fare. But she remains quiet, allowing the men their chance to speak and leaving any discussion of their father for another time.
Einar accepts the goblet as one is offered to him and takes a sip before nodding his thanks to Ceinlys for the thought. He's going to take it slowly though as getting blotted to the point he can't see is one of the potential plans for after the service, not before. Then to Perrin he replies conversationally, "I have been thank you, and yourself? I am afraid I have been rather busy these past months and have had far less time than I would have liked to be able to enquire after family."
At the invitation from the bride, Miranda's smile warms and eyes dance with delight. Stepping forward eagerly, she sets her basket on a small side table. When she then gets close enough to the throng, she drops a quick curtsy to everyone in a generalized sort of way intended to be all inclusive, "I am Miranda Ashwood, cousin to Lord Aliester Ashwood." Rising, she accepts one of the goblets of wine with a smile and nod for the maid, though her attention refocuses on tables for a moment. Ceinlys and her kin are offered a nod of greeting that carries an impressed smile. Stepping closer to the table, Miranda looks at Tiaryn, then to the fabrics, "If I may say so, blue suits you, Lady Tiaryn." Her free hand trails over the fabric at her end of things, for she has not pressed close to the bride, leaving that space for kin as is proper. "Oh, these are lovely." She fingers a deep blue silk with darker flowers worked into the weave.
Tia takes up the glass of wine that is offered to her, with a smile and a murmured thanks. She raises it in a sort of salute to Ceinlys, knowing full well who to thank for the kind gesture. A sip is taken, and then Tia says, "Wonderful." She glances back to the blue, unerringly finding the colours that are Camden blue or that compliment it. "This, and this," she decides, having taken the time to look through the lot. Her artistic talents at least allow her to make such choices swiftly, matching the colours by eye a skill that she has honed. "And gold for the accessories, please. What say you?" Yes, she is planning to showcase her maiden house colours, under her cloak of Flint Grey and Black, doing honour to both. Miranda gets a smile at her choice. "That is beautiful, Lady Miranda, indeed." Tia then looks to the seamstresses, a brow quirking, as she moves to check the accessories, finding combs of gold with sapphire gems to her liking.
Taking the offered goblet, Perrin smiles at his sister in thanks. A small sip is taken before he holds it easily in one hand. "I have been well, Einer. Duties at Broadmoor has kept me busy and I fear I have also been absent on family matters." Fabrics, weddings, the trappings is not something that Perrin is used to so he also stands a bit back, but his blue eyes watch keenly as the women go about picking the right color for whom.
Einar never really even started to assume that Tia would be limited to the greys and blacks of the northerners, so he does offer a brief smile as he spots the colours she's selecting. TO Perrin though he nods his understanding. "I was glad to be able to spend a few days at Broadmoor this summer. I am not sure how many years it had been since I was last there before then, but it was nice to see the place has not changed much from my memories as a child." He then adds with a faint smile, "of course it helped that I had a patient guide. I fear I might have got lost in the gardens otherwise."
Eeee! Katrin gets happily dragged off by her sister to look at all the sparklies and other pretties. She is content to stay quiet and let Ilaria look all she wants.
Alric grins and nods to Perrin's words. "Perhaps." He offers Though staying rather silent in that conversation. Studying the people around. Though turning towards the Haigh sisters. "Have you heard anything from mistress Copperfells?" He asks. Though not going into details. Letting sisters walk off then. Smiling and shaking his head before turning back to the others.
A half smile that is comon to Perrin "The gardens. Yes a few have gotten lost with in them. Who was your escort then, I can't rightly remember now?" With a shake of his head "It doesn't change, not much really. But it's home all the same." Pride sounds in his voice as he speaks of Broadmoor.
As if the presence of servants with trays of wineglasses were a normal daily occurrence, Ilaria bats nary an eyelash as she scoops up a glass when a tray wanders within reach. Curling her fingers around the cool, hard surface, she sips the liquid delicately, letting it roll over her tongue and trickle down her throat as she studies intently the array of goods laid out like a veritable fashion buffet. "Mmm, delicious vintage," she murmurs, glancing aside to Katrin briefly before maneuvering herself around bodies to draw in closer to Tiaryn although maintaining polite distance.
"What if this, Lady Tiaryn?" she inquires, selecting what appears to be a very plain gold chain; dangling from the end, however, is a rather large faceted sapphire in a simple round setting. Draping the chain over her fingers, Ilaria holds it up with her free hand to display to Tiaryn. The gem rotates to and fro, swinging gently and reflecting the surrounding light with a merry twinkle. "I think your blues are absolutely perfect, my lady. You have impeccable taste and a shrewd eye. These will set off your fair features beautifully."
Lifting her glass, Miranda takes a tentative sip of the wine, then widens her eyes a bit in astonishment at the flavor and quality. She steels another peek at the Steward and echoes Tia's "Wonderful," though hers is a bit softer and likely lost amid the quiet chatter. She turns back to the fabrics and looks at those chosen by Tiaryn and her smile softens, "Beautiful, Lady." She kind of fades from the tables, her attention drifting over the ladies and lords present, trying to memorize in moments those present. Ilaria catches her attention as she lifts the gold chain with the sapphire pendent, "Oh, that is beautiful." Her tone is low and warm, alto, though her enthusiasm for the piece displayed is clear.
Einar takes another sip of his wine as Perrin speaks nodding his agreement to the comments. "It was our mutual cousin over there," he answers, nodding in the direction of the Haigh sisters. Realising that might have been a big vague he notions more specifically to Ilaria before turning back to Perrin. "My Lady Mother was pleased to hear what I could tell her of the place. I had thought perhaps that if my Lord Father were to have been attenting today then she might have found the time to visit herself after all these years. I believe though that they have business that is keeping them in the North."
Tia is swarmed by the seamstresses now, briefly. There is work to be done, and they get to it, given the opportunity. After a few moments, they have enough information to get started at their task, freeing Tia for the moment. Tia looks around, taking a break from the fripperies, and sipping at her wine. She might have said she has wedding jitters, but she does seem to be quite calm in her demeanour. She turns to Ilaria, and then Miranda, amusement shining, as well as interest, in her big blue eyes. "I agree with you both. A superb eye, Lady Ilaria. Have you met Lady Miranda? She is one of my Lord Saethwyr's cousins." Her subtle hint is perhaps not so subtle, but hey, it's not quite a brick to the head. "And these combs for my hair. If there are enough of them."
"It's true, the gardens are a bit outrageous." concedes Ceinlys, with a soft laugh, still listening to her brother and cousin while her glacial eyes follow the chatter nearby of the young ladies. The wares on display vary in tastes and styles, as well as value, though all are of supremely fine quality and most are attuned to the hues Tiaryn may have been expected to choose from. Though of course there's a rogue shade thrown in here or there. The steward couldn't resist. And she's far from done yet.
Having seen to it that everyone had a drink in hand that wanted it, the servants have, under the notice of the nobility, reappeared with platters of sweetmeats and tiny pastries, as well as teensy miniature cakes and other such succulent delights, all laid upon the table to be devoured at whim while the women browse. And what's this, now? Several footmen appear from the entrance hall, stacked in some cases to the nose with boxes and packages, which they set out neatly along one of the benches before the busy trestle. Oh, this has all been choreographed rather cleverly. Just as everyone might be tiring of fabrics… SHOES!! Still content to remain in the background, the noblewoman permits herself a slight grin, waiting for the inevitable reaction to this addition.
"Oh, right, Lady Ilaria," Perrin says as Einar points her out "How could I have forgotten that?" But more than likely he didn't. Listening further to Einar's words he nods "It has been a long while since I last saw your mother, when you see her tell her I send my regards," his brow raising questioningly before dropping "Well it's understandable that they were not able to attend, business is business and it takes a lot to keep a House running properly." Not that Perrin would actually know. The warm smile that was present before on Perrin returns briefly as Ceinlys speaks of the gardens "If my memory serves me correctly, dear sister, I do remember when you were little getting a bit lost in them as well?" He kids, not really sure if it happened or not but it's good to tease at times. When more frills are brought out, and Perrin had turned to see what it was, shoes, he sighs a bit. "Well I guess one can't have to many shoes," though the number of his can be counted on one hand, with fingers to spare.
If Ilaria were any more predictable, she would be utterly boring. As it is, she cradles her wineglass and takes a periodic delicate sip, watching Tiaryn and her companion over the rim of the cup. When the introduction is made, hazel eyes dart over to take in Miranda completely with a quick glance from head to toe and back again. Never one for complete rudeness, Ilaria's expression brightens considerably and she bobs her head toward Miranda in a vague, informal greeting. "Lady Miranda, a pleasure. I hope the day's festivities are as entertaining for you as they are for m—ooh!"
A tray circles within Ilaria's reach, and she snatches up a delectable looking pastry with an avid grin. It's a miracle she isn't drooling like an idiot at this point. Nibbling on the sweet treat, she allows her gaze to drift over the wares once more before - shoes. "Kitty!" The half-squealed exclamation is followed by an elbow to her sister's ribs to catch her attention, and then the young girl is off to coo over something new. With a toss of her head, Ilaria flips her brunette hair over her shoulder before slowing to pace intently among the shoe displays.
Einar nods to Perrin's request then watches the boxes as they are brought in, eyebrow raised questioningly to Ceinlys. As their contents are revealed though he just shakes his head briefly in amusement before replying to Perrin, "I think perhaps that could be true of some ladies cousin, but I find my rather finite collections serves me well enough." HE is in about the same positon as Perrin really on that score. To Ceinlys though he adds, "you havebeen planning this for a while now haven't you cousin. I can tell."
Tia chuckles, watching Ilaria flit butterfly like from one pretty thing to the next, dragging Katrin with her. She glances to her maids, murmurs softly, and then one of them nods her head, going over to offer Ceinlys a curtsey and a murmured question. (Since Cein isn't alone, the question is, "Shall we have a screen erected, so that we might finish our preparations with the lady Tiaryn? Or shall we retire back to her room?")
Tia glances at the delicacies that are now coming through, eyes agleam. And then there's the food! She pauses to delicately eat a bit, purpose in her actions, as she wants to make sure she doesn't overimbibe on her wedding day. She glances at the shoes, but simply calls out to Ilaria, "see if there are gold coloured dancing slippers, Ilaria, please?"
Ceinlys smiles good-naturedly up at her brother, raising and dropping a slender shoulder in a light shrug before sipping at her wine. "More than likely. But I bet I could still outrun you across the green, Perrin." A pause. "Though perhaps not in this ensemble." A vague gesture indicates her flowing gown. Yes, she'd almost definitely trip, in that, regardless of talent and grace. Idly watching her lady cousins as their attention shifts to the new offerings, the Steward answers the maid who approaches her in a quiet aside. "Choose whatever you like, and I'll have it all brought to my chambers. They're larger, and ought to provide room for everyone who wishes to accompany you." She points toward the entrance hall. "The western wing, first door on the left."
That done, she flashes Einar a calm smile of assent, inclining her head in a gentle nod. "That obvious, is it? i couldn't help myself. We so rarely have anything to organise for ladies, I may have overdone it a little in my good mood." It must be a nice change from overseeing Aleister's meetings and dealings, all this decadence. It's a pleasant reminder that she is, first and foremost, the daughter of Lord Leslyn - not just an Ashwood retainer.
Miranda smiles at Ilaria, "The pleasure is mine, Lady Ilaria." She is about to add another comment when Ilaria is distracted first by food and then by shoes. As the young lady moves off with her sister toward the amazing display, Miranda takes a moment to watch the two, taking their measure. Turning back to Tiaryn, she claims a passing pastry, then motions toward the stacks of boxes, "This is quite something, Lady Tiaryn." There is delight in her eyes now, though she does not rush over to look at the shoes while the bride remains behind. She lowers her tone just a little, "Are you enjoying the day so far?" Lifting the pastry, she nibbles the flacky crust, then the filling, clearly pleased with the taste.
"Still? Huh, I don't remember you ever out running me, Ceinlys," Perrin says with a smirk. A half step back as he takes in her gown "Yea, would have to change out of that, surely." When Einar comments her on the planning and Ceinlys's answer he smiles proudly "Ceinlys has always had a way with planning, down to the smallest detail. I wonder what will be next on her list of surprises that she has up her sleeve," he tells his cousin. A deep breath "But a wedding is definitly the woman's day," he comments in general "where new gowns and new shoes and jewlry rule the day while us men will get by with the finery that we happen to have." As a passing wait staff goes by he puts his reaches out and places his half filled goblet on it, declining another.
The maid returns to Tiaryn, murmuring softly. Tia inclines her head, and then glances over to Ceinlys, catching her eye if she can and smiling a thank you. "I think we've enough for me to retire to finish getting ready, and to leave you all to the wonders that Lady Ceinlys has provided." She raises her voice, and it carries with the skill of one who has learned to project her voice to be heard. "thank you all. It is good to see you, but for now, I am going to retire briefly, so that I might finish getting ready and not be too late for my own wedding. If there are any ladies who would care to continue to assist, we are taking advantage of Lady Ceinlys' gracious offer to use her chamber." With that said, she lingers only briefly, and then she exits, making her way to the appropriate wing.
Einar is not the best placed person to judge if Ceinlys has or has not over done anything, he has been sheltering off to the side since the first opportunity to do so presented itself. He figures though that so long as Tia is happy, thats all that matters. "I wonder perhaps, if anyone has gone to the same lengths for Lord Saethwyr?" he ponders out loud, before stopping a passing servant to acquire for himself some of the fingerfood. Another sip of the wine and he turns bak to Perrin once more, asking, "Do you think we should leave them to it cousin? I must confess to being unsure as to when they will require us gone." ANd being shooed out is so ungentlemanly after all.
A laugh, yes a real one as Perrin nods to Einar "Yes, lets leave the Ladies to dresses, shoes and what else. I feel this is no place for a man at this time." A bow to those present then turning to his sister "Well done, again, Ceinlys. I shall look for you later." And with that he motions to Einar "Shall we, cousin?"
"Never can tell." replies Ceinlys, airily, to her sibling's teasing remark, even as she's smiling back at Tiaryn, inclining her head near-imperceptibly. A glance toward Ilaria and Katrin, with the subtle arch of a slender brow and tilt askance of her head, suggests they perhaps might wish to heed the bride's suggestion - it would stand them both in good stead to help the Lady Tiaryn and keep involved in the day's activities. Besides, it'll be fun for them. As for the Steward herself? "I must make myself scarce for a short while, ladies. But do not hesitate to ask if you require anything further." The servants are already stepping forward to load themselves up with whatever has been selected for the change of setting, and now she waves forward another, elder-looking retainer. "I shan't be far." It's no small task, keeping all this running smoothly. The Castellan, too, must be rushed off her feet, behind the scenes. Passing a warm smile toward Perrin and Einar as they discreetly take the hint to depart, for the time being, the young noblewoman murmurs assurances of finding them later, before turning on her heel, briskly striding for the entrance hall in a swirl of golden skirts.
"Gold dancing slippers!" Ilaria's light soprano rises up from amidst the crowd to alert Tiaryn that she is heard, and like a primed bloodhound, she is on the scent. Without a care in the world for others who may be trying to edge their way in upon her territory, the young Haigh begins scouring over the array of shoes in boxes before finding something that nearly resmbles a golden slipper made for dancing. "These?" she inquires of Katrin, but finding her sister distracted, she instead gestures irritatedly for Heolla to extricate herself and attend to the mistress. "These?" comes the question a second time, and the handmaiden pauses to study them once before offering a hesitant nod. "Good, take them to the Lady Tiaryn's room, hmm? And those, and those. Just in case."
With a dismissive jerk of her chin, Ilaria returns to prowling amongst the finery. This time, she appears to have a purpose in mind, and she quietly points out several pairs of shoes to be set aside before gravitating back toward the dresses. Big spender? Perhaps it is retail therapy. One, two, three, four. Four gowns! No, five.
The girl pauses, lips pursed as she downs the rest of the wine in her glass. Ilaria holds out the glass absently to her side, allowing it to be taken and replaced by a full one. The sixth dress, a rather subdued watery blue-grey, is one for contemplation.
"Now, now, Lari. Save some for the other girls," Katrin chides as she rejoins her sister, looking highly amused. Her arms cross over her chest and she glances aside to Serra. "Do you think you could impose on the kitchen for some tea?"
