Michelle
*The face of Lady Scarleth was pale and drawn, the blood leaving it in favor of a silk-white blanch. The concern in his face deepened, lines hardening further as he looked her over. It seemed to be more serious than he had thought - he had seen this face on soldiers he had served with, the same paleness and sweat at the thought of an axe cleaving the head of their brother or a cavalry charge surrounding them in snarling axes before an iron wave of shrapnel restored the lines. 

That was serious indeed. There was no end to the tremors induced by such reminders, he knew, and the fact that she had retained some sort of grace while experiencing it was impressive. The Grand Mistress's stammerings ended, and returned to a quiet murmur of private matters. Astalios leaned his head somewhat closer to pick out each and every word, bending his shoulder slightly to catch them.

What he heard was somewhat expected, he noted, as the details all clicked into place. How could he have been so foolish that he had not connected the vampires with the one that had killed her parents? It was a harsh reality that had put her in the position to be Lady Scarleth, and not simply... Caleesi. He ground his teeth at the mention, fist clenching nearly automatically before he forced himself to relax once more as the picture came into place.*

"I... See. I apologize for the reminder." *He replied as quietly as she had first murmured to him, keeping their conversation low and private. It felt sickening to be the one to enlighten her to the fact that the man she had enquired about was of the same affliction as the ones that had taken her family from her - a family, he thought, that she had been previously happy with. Shattering her life like glass was not a pleasant experience, to say the least.*

_ _
*Surprising to see one. He caught the words placed delicately in order to avoid saying that she was shaken. But such overtures were expected from a minister of the council, and she was putting on a brave face deliberately for the benefit of the ballroom. He could not blame her for wanting to appear strong - as it was the same reason he wore his armor constantly, even if she could not perform magic on her reputation to turn it into a weapon.*

"I should think, Lady Scarleth, that should a cure be found, all that deserve to be pardoned would come forward to receive it. After that day, we shall truly know the monsters when we see them. Who would choose a life of parasitism and murder over a cure for their disease?" *The question slid from his mouth as if it was a pure thought, unfiltered by the ballroom social atmosphere. His face remained as deadly serious as he had been, as if he was contemplating the future in which vampires were hunted down with complete security in their lack of honor. Those afflicted unwillingly would be able to remove the affliction, and those that remained would be killed.

As Caleesi pressed her hand to her chest and seemed to try to pull a facade of calm over the core of nerves and fear that she had exhibited, Astalios's head dipped back to her in reciprocation of the nod she had paid him, the respect that she had chosen to show. His own respect for her was growing, as was his sympathy for the experiences she had faced since his absence from court life. Perhaps, in another life, she might not have had to go through the loss of her parents, and he might have stayed in the capital, content to learn to govern instead of fight. Perhaps... If he had been there. But that time was long gone.* 

"Go." *He gave her license to leave with a simple word.* "Do not hesitate to ask if you require anything." *And as she left, he refocused on the party, and the eyes of the princess that were fixed upon him. A cordial and firm nod was sent her way.*
John
"Well, forgive me for not wishing to seem rude or nosy in Khisfire's endeavors, Prince Samir." Delsandra's tone shifted once more, though it was one of defensiveness. The way the prince had spoken to her didn't seem to sit well with the eladrin. This was formal, their discussion would remain that way. This was not a place of politics, but it seemed Hannibal was passionate about his home, though what queen or prince or any other leader wouldn't be. Frowning, Delsandra continued, "Yes, crime runs rampant through your streets, though I see your mother and father's efforts of something of respect and honor. I for one would not wish my own home to have such a moniker." Of course, the moniker Delsandra spoke of was Khisfire's nickname, 'The Kingdom of Thieves'. It was a true enough name, one Delsandra personally would hate to have if it were one plastered across Thyseer.

"Its a valiant effort they are making. If some peasant-folk are caught within the whirlwind, if they have nothing to hide they should have nothing to fear. Only those who resist should be seen as guilty, I believe. No man or woman who has something to hide would dare raise a fist to a guard's sword." Shrugging, Delsandra finished her wine and placed it upon a passing servants tray, though turned down a second glass. One was plenty, especially if conversations of politics were to continue. She'd be damned if she would discuss such things drunk or even tipsy. Eyeing Prince Astalios and the departure of Lady Scarleth to the did pique the princess's interest however. Wondering what the prince would do now that he was all alone, Delsandra watched as his Master of Magic disappeared into the ballroom, though the princesses then turned her attention back to Prince Samir.

_ _
"I can't say I'm one for such adventures, especially those that involve sand getting in my clothing and shoes." Smiling as she looked back at Hannibal, Delsandra's eyes still wandered every so often, always keeping an eye on others of interest and their movements; especially Chieftain Umras and Prince Astalios. "As for myself and Thyseer, we're simply going on as we always have. The plague of orcs and dragonborn continue to try their hand at breaking through our walls, but it has remained futile time and time again, especially with Alynthi to aid us should we need them. I've simply been planning Sorevelle in the recent weeks but decided to take a break and visit King Meshoon's Thunder Fest." With a sigh, Delsandra then realized the king had yet to make an appearance. She hoped he would soon.
Mike
The prince noticed the smile of the Princess fade and look amongst the crowd when he was going on about his country's politics. She brought up the talk about crime to be fair, and since he has to be vocal about it not much of an option to not be passionate. Of course Hannibal thought the Princess came here to escape the talk of politics, but he could only think yet again someone was going to mock his home for it's crime. Hearing Qinrel speak up about the *Peasants* Being falsely accused. "God *You are childish*." The prince mumbled while he took a sip of his wine to hide the comment. 

Hearing about the princess's life was interesting but couldn't help but realised Delsandra kept glancing away. When she got to the big events like the Dasvaz attacks, he was interested. Endorsing the word plague to describe the creatures, to even letting out a polite chuckle. "Fair, fair. Breaks are always needed." The sun elf lingered on the thought of the king not showing up. It is odd for the host to not show face especially for an event like this. "That is a fair point. The king is not here." Hannibal took a look around trying to spot the king from the faint memory of the appearance he saw in a painting months ago, or at the very least someone with a crown and all. 

Prince Samir turned back to the Thyseeri Princess to make his depart, as an elegant noble woman met his gaze. Hannibal looked back at the noble to see if the woman was still looking at him, and yet she was. So the prince spoke up to the princess, "It was a pleasure meeting a mostly like minded person. I hope we meet again outside of this event." The prince raised his hand as a goodbye before walking off taking a sip from his wine heading towards the noble woman. But the thoughts of what was up with the Princess lingered in his mind.