((OOC: Dumb moment. I went back to Roseline’s app, and she’s the same age as Isabella! lol Oh well… not many people around, the Queen doesn’t need a good reason to introduce the Princess. She does as she pleases. ))

Just as the question had left her lips, Isabella and Lilian came upon a beautiful girl seemingly lost in a painting. Isabella searched her mind, trying to recall the woman’s name. She was certain she was a Baroness of court, but for the life of her she could not find her name.

Isabella and Lillian had come to a pause before the woman noticed their presence. Isabella smiled with amusement as the girl curtsied and some words spilled from her lips. “Baroness,” Isabella began to make introductions, “this here is Princess Lilian Whitman”.

Isabella stood politely as the other women in her company traded greetings. Isabella was in an awfully wonderful mood this morning. Perhaps it was the carefreeness of the night prior carrying on into the day. Maybe it was the satisfaction of getting her way once again via the morning’s announcement. Either way, she felt positively generous. “Would you ladies care to join me in my Salon? Princess, I am most curious as to hear your tales of travel.”

((OOC: If I’ve godmodded anyone in any inappropriate ways, please go ahead and say something. Anyone feel free to move the trio up to Isabella’s Salon. I wanted to think of something more exciting for them to do, but it’s winter and the three of them would freeze outside. They can stay there till lunch time, as she has a lunch date with Mercy.))

Adalita stared out one of the windows. She had spent a good bit of the night just appreciating being in Silvius's embrace. She had left his suite in the small hours, and had paid barely any attention during her father's adress. She just barely registered Duchess Marie's banishment, lost in her own thoughts. She had wanted to go riding, but it was too cold outside. Maybe later, she thought. If it warms up. Sighing, she walked down the hallway, hoping to run into someone, anyone, to talk too.

((Approachable))

Mercy crept through the castle her dress still dust covered, she came to a corner and haulted, there were voices, her instinct was to leave especially when one of the voices seemed to belong to a certain Duc whom she had manipulated far too much to speak to politely, and from the sounds of what Silvius was saying he was talking to the Princess, a woman who she was by no means dressed to see.

Mercy at that turned round, and began to dash in the other direction however suddenly she began to fall fowards, she hit the stone floor hard her hands landed firstfollowed swiftly by her torso, her head thankfully hit a rug, though it did little to soften the blow, the final thing to hit the ground was a mahogany table and the porcelain vase which had sat on top of it, evidently it had been the table which had caught her dress and caused the fall.

She struggled to climb up from the floor and escape before the Princess or the Duc came to investigate the sounds, as she knew they would assume the worse if they were to find a woman of Mercy's reputation round the corner from them with no real reason to be there.

((Sorry... i was thinking of Octavien pre-wedding clearly... or was just being particularly blonde in a moment of nostalgia... XD))

"Don't you look lovely this morning?"

Adalita turned, and smiled at Silvius. Anyone could discover them, so they had to be discreet.
"Thank you, Duc Silvius. You are looking well yourself. Normally I am not one to gossip, but a banishment must be talked about. What did you think when you heard of the Duchess's banishment? Suprising, was it not?"

'Princess, I am most curious as to hear of your tales of travel...'

'I must say' Said Lilian 'I have seen the most unbeleiveable things during my adventure, but it takes alot of getting used to, as you can imagine'

'Though I must offer you a gift as thanks for allowing to stay in your beautiful home. I purchased the most extraordianary item of clothing in Bawara and the jewellery is incredible. Everything is so colourful and vibrant there'

Roseline thought of her own home, a large country house and her cousin whom she had gone to the wedding of. Some days in Court seemed to drag, and she dreamed of settling with a man and raising a family. Silly fantasies of a young girl. For now though, she was in Court, attempting to make her way to the top of the social ladder, or perhaps simply stay near to where she was. Finally she found her body that she had seemed to float away from, her eyes settling finally on the painting itself, one of a Princess from long ago she know realised.

She pushed a piece of stray hair out of her face subconsciously, turning her head when she heard the approaching footsteps. To her shock, it was the Queen herself and a young woman accompanying her.

Hastily, Roseline curtsied deeply, a small smile on her lips.
“Good Morning, Your Highness.” She said quickly, bowing her head again after she had straightened up.

“Baroness, this here is Princess Lilian Whitman”. Isabella said smoothly, forcing Roseline to widen her smile and curtsy to the visiting Princess.

“Your Highness.” She said simply as a greeting and sign of recognition at the visitor’s title. She felt slightly uncomfortable, even though she should not at the Queen, and her royal companion’s presence. Roseline rarely interacted with the royals, unlike of course Silvius and possibly Octavien, both of whom seemed as much at home around the ladies of the Family as with any other courtier, a trait which Roseline had none of.

She allowed her eyes to gracefully divert to the floor, only coming up as the Princess spoke to her.

She smiled gently at the Princess, wondering if the pair would move off at any time soon, or if Roseline herself should make her excuses and leave their presence in case the Queen had come to give the Princess a tour of the pictures on the walls and would prefer no other courtiers hanging around them. Just as the thought entered Roseline’s mind however it was pushed quickly away by the Queen’s velvet voice.

“Would you ladies care to join me in my Salon? Princess, I am most curious as to hear your tales of travel.” She asked, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for such an invitation to be given out. Roseline gave a small smile, something to fill the space while her brain attempted to find something suitable to say. To be invited back to the Queen’s Salon for the simple reason of seeming to be in the right place at the right time. Roseline allowed her hands, which were ceremoniously clasped at her waist, to fall, and one smoothed out a crease in her dress, her eyes meeting the Queen’s. If she could, she would almost turn it down, for what was she meant to say when there, she had no etiquette training in what she should say while speaking to the Royals, and the only person that she could know in the Court would be her Father, who’s example was hardly one anybody would wish to follow quickly.

“It would be a pleasure, Your Majesty.” She said, bowing her head once again, that annoying strand of blonde hair falling down the side of her cheek.


---

(((ooc: If Silvius and Adalita aren't gonna hear Mercy, would it be alright if I sent Octavien to come across the poor woman?)))

"It makes you realize how unstable this Court is!"

"I doubt there is a Court that is perfectly stable. But I should guess this may be the most stable." Adalita gave him another smile, saying she would prefer for them to be alone. It was hard being forced to act as if there was no longer a relationship between them and that they were having a conversation for the sake of it.
"I heard your party failed slightly because you left because of fatigue. I hope your next will be as successful?"

"Would you like to..."

Adalita shot him a look saying, Not here. He may have forgotten about the clattering noise. Then she shot him a look saying she would like too, but it was too risky. Looking out the window, she noticed it was starting to brighten up. She saw this as an excuse.
"Would you like to join me for a ride, Duc Silvius?"

((Sorry it took so long, bit busy))

The hours following the morning announcement had, to Octavien, proved quite instense. Along with Gilles, his trusted servant and confidant, he had spent them looking for a solution to his problem, for something that would allow him to get his way when it came to the affair between Adalita and her darling Duc.
He had found it.
After hours of searching, he had finally found the one thing that could put an end to the gossip that would have himself looking like a newlywed Prince with an already adulterous Princess wife. Once he had presented it to Adalita and Silvius, they would have no excuse to add fuel to the fire they themselves had started when Adalita had chosen to attend the Duc's party alone the night before, and then leave on his arm. No excuse whatsoever.
Now, all he had to do was to tell them about it.

But before he did that, he had one other thing he really should do. While he and Gilles had been hard at work, one of Octavien's other servants had brought news that there was a new and quite prominent guest in the Palace. A princess Lilian Whitman, of the kingdom of Royaume. As a member, although most recent, of the royal family, it was his duty to welcome her. It would be most impolite not to.
Thus he had Gilles fetch him the ocean blue coat that he had discarded when he had stood from the harpsichord hours earlier, and slipped into it once more before leaving his suite.

Swift, light steps carried him down the stairs to the first floor in search of this new, honored guest, and he was just about to start down one of the luxurious hallways when a loud crash made him stop dead in his tracks. What on earth was that? It had sounded almost as though one of the vases or the many porcelain figurines adorning the hallways had met it's demise on the smooth but hard marble floor. Quickly Octavien turned, and headed in the direction from which the noise had been heard. Perhaps it was just the clumsiness of one of the servants, but still, it would be better to check and see if everything was as it should be, or if something serious had indeed happened.

"Baroness!"

Rounding a corner, he was horrified to find Mercy struggling to get up from her sprawled position on the floor, her legs tangled in a less than clean dress and surrounded by shards from the vase that had announced her moment of humiliation loud and clear. Though gentleman that he was, he didn't stop to stare. Instead, and without hesitation, he rushed to her aid, placing a firm but gentle hand under her elbow to help her to her feet.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing his words as he tried to make eye contact with her.

Though she had little chance to reply, as it seemed the sound of her accident had attracted others as well. Hurrying down the hallway from the opposite direction of Octavien, came two servant girls, but stopped when they set eyes on the mess on the floor.

"You there", Octavien addressed them both, his voice now firm but far from arrogant or unpleasant in any way. "Be so kind as to fetch a broom. It seems I'm not quite as graceful as I thought."

He himself would rather take the blame than to embarrass a lady.



(((ooc: Fayreview - Hope it's ok? You didn't say anything, so... Let me know if you had other plans.)))

((I was actually just looking for an excuse to keep Mercy active but distracted until lunch and Octavien's aid is greatly appreciated.))

Mercy closed her eyes and breathed deeply before opening them again and blushing profusely as his eyes sort hers... "It seems the Prince is a true gentleman," she said when the servants had moved out of sight, "though there will be talk anyway for no fall could make a woman look like this, even if I had tripped over some sort of wild animal I fear I would look better."

She became acutely aware of her current state, a bruise was already flourishing on her left arm, there were thorns and porcelain shards in her dress and her hair had been shaken out by the fall.

She sighed "I suppose I should come clean for otherwise you shall just wonder." She also trusted the man before her, he was more honest than she herself, not that it was difficult. "I was indulging in some... hushed... physical work this morning, finally getting back at a certain Duchess I have no plans of seeing again. It involved walking in the forest hense the dirt and thorns, I was sneaking back to my room when I heard your wife and..." she paused to clear her throat "the Duc around the corner, not being dressed for seeing royalty and not really desiring to have to explain this to her Royal Highness I turned with haste and caught my dress on the table." She gave a half laugh

"I believe the rest is clear, yet now I know I look considerably worse and am still in the presense of royalty." She then became aware of a trickling feeling on her face, she moved her hand and touched her cheek, it was bleeding but it was a clean cut at least, she turned slightly and retrieved a hankerchief from within her bodice, she pressed it to her face before turning back to look at the Prince and bowing from the waist down.

(((ooc: Sorry, but... Isn't it supposed to be winter? *s* The rain and the freshly cut, life-sparkling grass, I mean...)))

(( Since it's been four and a half days since morning was called, I'm going to go ahead and move us into the Afternoon. Swirly and funheart, I'll be posting an RP soon that would deposit your characters right outside of the Queen's Salon after having spent some time in there. I'm sure Lilian would appreciate Roseline's help in finding her suite maybe?
And yeah... since it is New Years day in the RP, I think we need to stick to the fact that it's winter still. Time in RPs can get so tricky. Much like time in the Sims game!))

As the trio of women began to make their way to the wide grand staircase, two servant girls hurried down the hall. Isabella was a bit curious as to what they were seeing to in such a hurry but figured like most matters of the palace, things would resolve themselves without her interference.

Once they reached the Salon shared by Isabella and the Princess, the women began chatting the morning away. Each armed with their drink of choice, be it tea, or wine, they sat for about an hour doing what women of class usually do best. Chat. Isabella listened intently as Lilian shared stories of her travels. Though she enjoyed listening to the stories immensely, she was a little curious as to how this woman was granted so much freedom. Was it her fiancée that took her traveling about the world, or was it something she had been able to do from a younger age.

In a moment of cordial laughter, the doors to the salon opened, servants entered with carts of table ware, and décor. Isabella looked at the time, surprised to see that the morning had seemingly fled away. She apologized to her two guests and explained she had a lunch date in that very room. She asked Baroness Taylor if she would be so kind as to show Princess Lilian where her new suite was, as she would be staying in the Duchess’ old room.

Once seeing the ladies off appropriately she dashed over to her own suite. Surely she needed to freshen up for her lunch with Baroness Flight. She began to go over the lunch in her mind. She was curious to find out how she felt over the morning’s announcements. Though Isabella had been thoroughly satisfied with the banishment, the fact that Edouard had seemed to linger on it interested her. She was just, quite simply curious.

As Isabella entered her suite, she began talking right away without bothering to find Margret in the room. She knew the woman was rather attentive and would hear her voice easily enough. As Margret quickly came to see to her lady’s wishes, she seemed to have a pressing matter of her own she wished to speak with Isabella about. “What is it Margret?” Isabella asked, curious as to her friend’s disposition.

“I was going to mention it to you earlier today my lady, but this morning you were so…” she seemed to struggle to find the appropriate word. “…so peaceful. But I feel that you must have this knowledge at once.”
Isabella began to get a bit worried. This was most uncharacteristic for Margret. “You see, last night, Marquess Berini came looking for you. I told him immediately that the King had sent for you at the dusk. Your Majesty, I spoke as plain as day, but I do not think he believed me.”

Isabella’s countenance was brought down. Of course the man didn’t believe her, he knew quite well that Edouard seemed to have no need for her company in the night. But still, what Margret had done was the best possible thing. “I understand Margret, it is not your fault.”

“He also came this morning, after the announcements. I do believe my lady that he is starting to get a bit agitated.” Isabella had no problem imagining that. He had been in this palace for two days now, and she imagined he would be leaving by tomorrow afternoon. She had not divulged him in his fantasy yet, given last time they shared company they were on much, friendlier terms, he was sure to start being agitated. Isabella thought over the situation a bit. She wasn’t sure what she was to do. She had no wish to humor him and his desires. The last they were together she began to see a different side of him that she didn’t like. As she thought of her options, a servant came to her room.

“Your Majesty, the Salon is now ready for you.”

“Thank you.” she dismissed the girl. She turned to Margret. “Thank you for informing me. If he shall come looking for me again, inform him that there is a guest in our presence, a Princess Lilian Whitman if he asks. Tell him that I am doing my duties as the Queen of this Palace in making sure she is seen after.” Margret nodded her head in understanding. “As for me. I shall just have to avoid him a day longer. He should be gone by tomorrow.”

Skipping her usual once over in the mirror, Isabella strolled confidently out of her suite, making her way to her Salon. She wondered just how agitated Federico would get. She had lost her fondness for the man, and his rather loose lips. As she prepared to enter her salon, she forced the thought of the man from her mind. She had a lunch date, and intended to enjoy it.

((OOC: Isabella's ready for Mercy when you are Fayreview.))
*edit*
((OOC: I'm sorry, I'm not thinking the clearest lately. Take your time, no huge hurry. *smacks hand* Isabella tells me that time spent with Octavien is time well spent.))

(((ooc: I'll do my best to get an RP in for Octavien asap, but I'll need to sleep first. If you get tired of waiting, Fayreview, please don't let me hold you back. )))

((Nonsesne Atropa I agree you need your sleep, as for me I have my last exam in less than two hours... so must dash!))

(((ooc: Fayreview - Good luck! Hope you do well. Though I guess considering the time, I should say "did". )))

"It seems the Prince is a true gentleman."

Faced with Octavien, Mercy's cheeks flushed with a dark crimson hue, as his presence had most likely only added to her embarrassment, even though he had only meant to help her. In an attempt to calm her and reassure her that he wasn't thinking bad thoughts about her in secret, he offered a soft, gentle smile. And it seemed to do the trick, for when she continued to speak, she did it with a candor that quite frankly took him by surprise. Hadn't the story been so unusual and adverse on her part, he would've been inclined to think she was joking. But as she told him about her 'hushed physical work' and revenge on 'a certain Duchesse' - whose identity wasn't difficult to figure out - he couldn't help but to believe her. However it still surprised him that she was telling him all this. The impression he had gotten of her earlier was that she had been avoiding him. Though he had never understood why, what reason she could have for hurrying away from him like she had done not too long ago? Perhaps getting away from him hadn't been her reason. Perhaps he had been too self-centered in that aspect, assuming her hurry was to get away from him, when in fact it'd had nothing to do with him at all, only Mercy herself?
How foolish he felt now, as she open-heartedly poured her story out to him, confiding in him that she had done things that could get her into quite a bit of trouble, should anyone find out.
But if they did, it wouldn't be from Octavien. He'd always appreciated Mercy, even when he'd thought it was a most one-sided feeling. Despite not being part of the royal family, despite being 'just' a Baroness (and a newly appointed one at that), she was one of the most powerful women in this court. Not because of her title, her wealth, or her heritage, but because of her qualities. That was something held in high esteem by Octavien. And the fact that she, like him, seemed to have it in for this 'certain Duchesse' only made him like her even more.

As she kept on talking, mentioning Adalita and the Duc, Octavien's brows momentarily furrowed. They were seen together, again? Was either of them even thinking, at all? If they kept this up, both Adalita's and Octavien's reputations would be in ruins by nightfall.
Though he did his best to hide the re-awakened anger that coursed through his veins, but allowed the crease between his eyebrows to linger for a bit, now with concern for Mercy. He had seen the blood trickling down her face the very moment she herself seemed to feel it, just before she turned away. When she turned back to face him, holding a delicate handkerchief against her injured cheek, Octavien himself was just in the process of retrieving his own from his inner pocket. But, realizing she already had one, and had put it to use, his hand dropped. The concern on his features, however, remained.

"Are you alright?" he asked and took a step closer, as though he feared she would collapse any moment and wanted to make sure he'd be able to catch her. "Should I call for the doctor?"



(((ooc: stylequeen & GeeWay - Don't mind Octavien's reasoning too much. He's p*ssed about the night before, and so right now, to him, they can't do anything right. )))

((It did actually :P))

Mercy studied Octavien's face and then... "Oh my no!" Mercy's eyes widened at the mention of a doctor, she had more than a slight fear of them, with all their leeches and cauterising... No that was not the way to heal.

"That is not to say your magesty I am not most grateful for your offer, I just do not feel in such a jaded a condition as to need one." She smiled at Octavien then paused "and I understand your worry... Look at me I should go and clean up I have been requested to have lunch with the Queen and this certainly will not do, I shall have to have Helena have a look at this cut as well." Mercy bowed deeply, "thank you again your highness." Mercy turned and walked down the corridor at a relatively speddy pace, it would take so long to clean up for for lunch....