Michelle
*As Prince Hannibal left the princess, leaving both himself and Delsandra without conversation partners, Astalios considered saying hello. There was much to be gained not only from reaching out to new allies, but upkeep of old ones. Keeping those relationships steady was a major part of politics, which the queen never failed to remind him of. And so, as he found his opening, he made his way over to the princess of Thyseer, presented himself with a respectful nod of the head, and spoke, cordial and pleasant in tone.*

"Your Highness, it is good to see you." *He wondered if she had been watching them just then with a skeptical eye or an inquisitive gaze, hoping to find out more about relations between Astalios and the ministers he commanded - or what he was doing with the chieftain of Dazvaz. She seemed to be a 'ballroom' sort of person, graceful when she needed to be, and perhaps a little sharp tongued.*

"Have you been finding the ball pleasant so far?" *He asked, following the proper courtesies as he went, making sure he was considering his conversational partner's experiences, and never forgetting to be polite. There was much more on his mind than the simple conversation ahead, however - he was worried about the high elf that had left the room so briefly. Battle shock was never a pleasant sight to see, and to pick up the same signs in a lady whom he was sure had never left the noble life was a dark sign indeed.

Her parents, he knew, had meant a great deal to her, and even seeing a vampire again might have been the impetus for such an episode. But should he have done more? Perhaps gone with her as a steadying hand in the time of stress? He did not know, but her request had seemed to be congruent with being alone for a while, having a private moment to collect herself. He knew from her reactions to him that she was putting on a facade there, if nothing else. Perhaps it was best that she had left alone.*

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*Back to the problem at hand, however - he was unlikely to say anything that could possibly maneuver the princess of Thyseer into giving up a secret, so perhaps he might take his chances with a simple question - be honest and straightforward, and the information could be shared freely.* "And how was your conversation with Prince Hannibal? I hear he is an interesting person."

*That, strictly speaking, was untrue - Astalios had heard that he was hardly ever in the capital, never learned to govern, never fought with an army, and shirked his duties at every turn. The grim expression that seemed to be the neutral for Astalios's face remained fixed upon it, impassive for the moment. If he showed disgust, it would be impolite.*
John
Nodding her head to Prince Samir, Delsandra bid him farewell with a curt smile. "Farewell, Prince Samir. It was a pleasure speaking with you." Dipping her head, the moment the Khisfirian prince took his leave her smile disappeared. While the majority of their conversation Delsandra enjoyed, it was his fiery attitude towards its end that left a bitter taste in the eladrin's mouth. Raising her eyebrow as the half-drunk prince wandered over to a noblewoman that had been eyeing him, she soon rolled her eyes and instead focused on an individual approaching her; Prince Astalios. Dipping her head in greetings to the prince, Delsandra smiled happily as he neared before offering her own hello.

"Greetings, Prince Dilitrios. Yes, the ball has served as a fantastic break from planning Sorevelle. It's also a great opportunity to hear King Meshoon's fireworks I've heard so much about. I hear they're quite the spectacle." Gently holding her hands together in front of her over her dress, the princess's fiery eyes seemed bright and cheery, though there was a tinge of curiosity within them. Shifting her eyes over to the prince of Khisifre, Delsandra let out a sigh followed by a chuckle, one that almost sounded like a songbird waking up and singing its heart out. "Interesting, yes. Quite the character. I wonder if most Khisfirians share his fiery nature, though I suppose with a name like *Sun elf* That's to be expected, hm?" Returning her blood orange eyes to Astalios's she took a moment to study the man before her. Broad shoulders, dark and heavy eyes and brow, a stiff jaw and masculine look to him. Astalios carried himself well.

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"I was a bit disappointed Princess Samir could not make it to the festival however, I was actually curious about the news I had heard of one of her guardsmen-" Lowering her voice and leaning in ever so slightly, Delsandra widened her eyes a bit. "-though I suppose discussion of Nala's planned assassination might bring up unwanted memories for our host." Frowning a bit, the eladrin's expression almost looked like a mocked version of pity or sadness, but it soon disappeared as Delsandra let out a sigh, washing away the grim subject with her sweet sounded voice. "Though, I'd prefer not to speak any more of a man no longer apart of the conversation; how about yourself, your highness? I saw Lady Scarleth looked a bit-... *Ill* In the face as Lazaroth's councilman arrived."

There was that familiar expression of curiosity and nosiness Astalios likely had seen before. One the prince would have seen in his own courts, the ladies discussing gossip on anyone that dared pass within their vision. Delsandra knew not of Lady Scarleth, only that her parents had perished. The princess never really concerned herself with such matters, as they effected her in no way whatsoever. The loss of another's parents was something they'd carry, not Delsandra.
Michelle
*It seemed, from the way that she reacted, his estimations of her character were correct. She was bedecked in a beautiful gown of blue and gold, jewelry was tastefully wrought over her, and a curiosity that bordered on being an ear for gossip. The news about Princess Samir he had not heard, but he noted down for the future. Assassinations were never pleasant business, and it seemed something had happened to her that might at least be cross-referenced with the occurrences recorded at King Zarreus's parents' demise. That would yield at least more information, which never hurt at all. Aggregation of data was always a pleasant experience, and it gave so much more of a strong base of knowledge to build from.*

"I am sure that the musicians of Thyseer are hard at work honing their skills for the coming festival. Every year, they seem to impress the court more and more, though I have not attended in quite some time. This year, I will have the time, barring any unfortunate incidents to address." *He mused, racking his brains for his schedule. Sorevelle seemed to be open, or at least lacking any events that could not be delayed a day or two in order to attend and make another appearance in society.* "And, of course, with your proclivity for planning events such as these, I have no doubt that it will run smoothly and be quite impressive." 

*Though the eyes of Delsandra seemed bright and cheery like a candle flame, his own were dark and unclear like silt on a creek bottom, brown as muck. He returned her gaze with a question forming in his mind - what was behind her motives? What did she really hope to gain in this endeavor by trading gossip? Was it just for enjoyment?* "As for the fireworks, I suppose they shall be excellent, although I am not sure that I remember the last Thunder Fest all too clearly. It was, after all... Quite a long time ago. It seems a lifetime away now."

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*His voice was calm and quiet, though not shaky or unsure. Remembrance was a powerful thing, he thought to himself, and it would be wise to recapture that image of himself before the wars he had fought - to remember what his friends had been like at court, and to force himself to think that there was more than just the prevention of conflict or the winning of wars. There was a life, a long time ago.*

"Well, I am sure that Princess Samir had her reasons, given that the unfortunate occurrence." *He spoke carefully now, making sure he could be seen as sympathetic, but ultimately logical. To refuse to excuse the absence of someone who had nearly been killed was a callous thing indeed, and he did not intend to seem callous to his subjects or to any allies.* "Prince Samir... Can probably fill his own niche, as I doubt that his being a sun elf is the only reason for his personality." *Indeed, most people with the capacity to understand the concept of responsibility could adhere to it. It was his choice to run.*

"Ah. Lady Scarleth..." *He paused for a moment, but it was no secret to anyone in Alynthi. People knew already that her parents had been the unfortunate victims of a vampire attack.* "Perhaps it is understandable that Lady Scarleth is ill. Her parents were the victims of vampires, and to see one was an uncomfortable experience for her. This is no news to the court, of course, but it is as always cause for some sympathy and respect. The loss of family is always a tragedy." 

*His gaze was a little pointed as he attempted to make sure that Delsandra was treating his Grand Mistress of Magic with the proper respect she was owed - not just as a noblewoman, but as a person who had undergone a great loss. Compassion was not only proper, but needed.*
John
Delsandra's eyes seemed to widen quite a bit at the news of just *How* Caleesi's parents met their end. Looking over to the exit the woman had gone through, the princess frowned slightly. No wonder she reacted so fearfully. "I see. I had not known her mother and father met such a terrible end. All the more reason why *Creatures* Like Lord Olagwyen should not be allowed to exist. If I had it my way, they'd burn on a pyre one and all." As she said the final few words of sentence, those fiery eyes almost seemed to light up like the flame within a fireplace, an obvious indication of an eladrin's anger should their eyes glow so ferociously. That frown never seemed to end, and soon her tone became one of irritation as well. "I should hope King Meshoon has a guard watching the man's movements."

Perhaps it was a bit much for Delsandra to feel as though Lysanthir needed to be constantly watched. If he dared hurt or make a move on someone, a war would surely start, or at the very least a call for Lazaroth to surrender their Master of Laws, even a demand for vampires and werewolves to be outlawed in the kingdom. Quite the issue indeed. Perhaps Delsandra was also thinking too little of a man *Known* As the Master of *Laws*. It was obvious the princess thought very, very little of vampires and beasts of the same ilk. Rolling her eyes and closing them for a long moment, Delsandra soon opened them once more and tried her best to put the thoughts of burning Lysanthir alive behind her, though as those thoughts did invade her mind a fire began to form heavily in her chest.

_ _
The heat rose and rose, as if her patron god were calling upon her to smite the unworthy, the fiends that plagued the earth. For a moment it seemed as though Delsandra's eyes were darkening, that fire turning almost a light grey. Before Astalios could truly catch on however, the princess inhaled, her eyes returning to normal once more. Clearing her throat, Delsandra waved a hand. "I'd rather not ponder on such subjects if you don't mind, your highness. I am curious however how your endeavors have been. I didn't know Dasvaz had a new chieftain, especially one of such a *Formal* Disposition."
Michelle
"I believe that is a worthy goal." *The remark left his lips in the form of a murmur - he agreed with the end goal, but did not think that the descriptions of violence were indicative of much more than the unrestrained bloodlust that he sought to keep caged in his own heart, and not led bleed into his mind.* "Should the Alchemical Association one day invent a cure, we should be able to sort the wheat from the chaff and then give the monsters who refuse to return to normalcy the gruesome deaths they truly deserve. I do not believe it will ever truly leave us, however - no matter how thorough one can be, the world is a large place, with many nooks and crannies in which evil may hide. Sometimes it hides in plain sight." 

*Perhaps, he thought to himself, that was a bit on the nose, but there was something unsettling about the flame in her gaze, the intensity with which her heart seemed to burn. It made him consider - the desire to do right in the world could not simply be zeal. Though passion was helpful at times, it could often cloud one's judgment on the battlefield and off of it - and bring in the messy temptations of following one's own habits instead of what was practical or morally justifiable. It could not be enough to do what was convenient - but what was truly right.* "If King Zarreus posted a guard, Your Highness, that would hardly be endearing towards Lazaroth." 

*Though he disliked Lazaroth as much as the next man, violating the laws of sovereignty and openly guarding ambassadors was a hostile action, much closer to what nations at war might do than what a decidedly neutral (though perhaps disagreeing) country should.* "As you wish, we shall leave the subject for another time." *She was concerning, he knew, in her overwhelming emotional states. People that became too overcome were not reliable in times of battle and in times of conflict, and tended to make hysteria much more common than it needed to be.*

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*She was, however, an ally, and he needed to keep his allies happy.*

"Dazvaz's future is uncertain, as it always is when there is a succession crisis." *He exhaled, the frown remaining on his face.* "It is my hope that this one catches the meaning in my being able to impose my will on his armor." *From an outside perspective, a show of force and a loaded gift. He hoped it looked that way, of course. His reputation had to be upheld. Though he was sure that Umras's intentions were good, he could not appear friendly to the man until he knew him more - and certainly, the game of politics had to be played further before he made a move.*

"I furthermore doubt his disposition is so formal. The armor was poorly crafted, with stress lines running through the plates that indicated to me a novice had made it. It was without design or refinement, and seemed freshly made to me." *He reported his assessment.* "It is my estimation that the smiths of Dazvaz die quickly and mass produce weapons for the slaughter - which we knew from experience. Their weapons would too often shatter in battle even when I was not personally there. Many reports had been generated to that effect."
John
Nodding as the prince spoke, Delsandra found comfort in his agreement of her feelings on vampires. A cure wasn't something the princess had truly thought of, though she doubted it would ever be possible. The gods themselves had to grant the power to kill dragons long ago, which even they weren't immortal like vampires are. The thought of a cure being created for vampirism was a wonderful dream, Delsandra believe it gave a false sense of hope. Though the doubt of vampirism ever truly being eradicated gave the princess pause. Surely the cleansing flame would be enough to rid the world of such heinous monsters? Keeping those thoughts to herself however, Delsandra nodded in agreement. "Yes, evil does tend to always lurk even when it seems as though its been snuffed out."

"I suppose so, yes. Appearances are oh so important in places like this, the last thing you, me or King Meshoon for that matter needs is wolves breathing down our necks." A look of slight irritation seemed to cover Delsandra's face when Astalios spoke of Lazaroth, but she was happy for the conversation to move on. Listening to the prince speak of Dasvaz, her expression remained sour to an extent. It was more than reasonable for Delsandra to be skeptical of the dragonborn chief and his intentions. Time and time again Dasvaz attempted to raid the fae kingdom, perhaps they had grown a brain on their shoulders and decided to try to get in through a politically formed trust between them all. Dasvaz, Alynthi and Thyseer. It'd make for one hell of a tale hundreds of years from now, perhaps even a bard song sung at Sorevelle one day.

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"I do so hope the natives of Dasvaz have come to their senses and wish to be civil with their neighbors. I wonder if your ancestors regret allowing Dasvaz to become its own nation... Have you thought of simply conquering it and reclaiming it once again?" It was quite the forward question, indeed. Delsandra seemed to know her history, and the look on her face was one of genuine curiosity. "Surely it has to have crossed your mind once or twice in your war against those savages." Tilting her head ever so slightly, the princess shifted her eyes after a few moments from Astalios over to the dragonborn chief Umras, the look on her face one of uncertainty.