Robert
The Musicians 
*The Burnt Thistle*, Vallen

"You are set to see the most major event of the year tomorrow. A fucking stroke of luck being invited back for the council. I suppose you can choose which royal you prefer that day," Bertolt said. 

"The Feyorians and Astorians are... They're good," Imogen said simply, raising her eyes up to the ceiling. The fiddlers played more vigorously as a couple of the drunker patrons got up to dance with their arms interlocked. It added the unpleasant scent of body odor to the atmosphere, causing Imogen to retch into her mug of mead. 

"Feyorian court is complicated. The Romanovs may look like glamorous airheads from afar, but they are full of nothing but treachery and deceit. The Astorian court is lively but the Duchess rarely stays in her kingdom. She spends the majority of the year trolloping all around Marin in search of her next fuck," Arnaud said with a scoff. 

"There's not a goddamn kingdom here that will make you happy. They're all shit," Bertolt said pointedly, "You needn't waste your time *Deciding* Which is the lesser of countless evils. If I were you, I'd just pick a kingdom and go."
Lawrence
Kallophon
*The Burnt Thistle*, Vallen

"I'm like to have my heart broken by one or both of the Romanov siblings, both of them married if my sources are correct." Kallophon bit off some more bread, and continued through his chewing, "Astoria sounds promising. I have a few good friends in Ostrava. If the Queen travels, well, that's all the better for my plans." 

He furrowed his brows in consideration, then swallowed and asked, "Who does she fuck, exactly?" He broke into a muffled chuckle. "Don't mistake my reason for asking. It just seems a bit unqueenly."
Charles
Belladonna of Taemar
Grunewald Castle, Valen

"Oh you have no idea, my good sir"

Her travels, accompanied by the magic she always liked to be surrounded by, could be considered an exciting experience by some.

She put the bottle back on the table after his response.

" What a shame. Maybe we could cross paths in our travels instead, if you'd like the idea" She dedicated a wink to the nervous man, who seemed to be a bald's man hair away from having a heart attack.
Robert
The Musicians
*The Burnt Thistle*, Vallen

"Both are married. King Daniel Black and some Lady from the Bear Isles. She's rumored to be quite ferocious. Heath Romanov married a feral, wolfy woman," Bertolt chuckled with a shake of his head. 

"Who hasn't she fucked?" Imogen said, "She is called the Whore Queen for a reason. She has been with Heath Romanov on *Numerous* Occasions. Nathanial Vivayn, King Gregor, Prince Carney, Bradai Maith, Eric Stafford, every man in her court, every woman in her court..."

"There was also King Cleburn," Arnaud snorted. 

"King Cleburn *Multiple* Times! The most, they say. They did things with *Cake*," Bertolt said. 

"If you're looking to be added to the list, I suggest going there," Said Imogen, eyeing Tom knowingly.
Kathleen
Viola Godwin 
Apparently back in the castle and wanting to drop dead, Vallen

Trying her damn best not to lean against the nearest table to keep from fainting, she smiled and hid behind her empty tankard for a moment.

"You'll have to tell me about your travels some time, should we meet again of course." 

*Oh. Oh that wink was unfair*

Viola opened and closed her mouth a few times as if to speak. Finally she cleared her throat."I cert-certainly wouldn't be adverse to the idea."

Looking around, she finally noticed all those beginning to leave for their rooms and she looked back to Belladonna,"It's getting quite late and I'm sure you're in need of sleep after travel. Are you staying in the castle?"
Robert
Sir Heath Romanov
Castle Grunewald, Vallen

He winced, watching the wolf get skewered and pinned to the wall like a butterfly specimen. *Well, thank the GODS there are three of us and ONE person can restrain the shifter while the other two handle Anya. God forbid we split up*, Heath thought in annoyance at Angelica's hysterics. He kept quiet, however, choosing his battles carefully. 

The physician came quickly and Heath laid Anya gingerly down for him. Heath did what he was told, tearing at the silk of her dress for the physician to use. He would have felt bad about ruining the fine gown, if he hadn't already been through dozens of her dresses. 

"A shifter bit her. Their saliva isn't venomous like their blood, but I'm not sure if it can still cause infection," Heath said.
Charles
Belladonna of Taemar
Her rper forgot to read the room fully and messed up, Valen

"Oh no, we're staying at an inn nearby. Until we cross paths again then sir"

She did a slight bow with her head and went back to her Lady.

***((stop laughing at me I'm dumb)))***
Lawrence
Kallophon
*The Burnt Thistle*, Vallen

Kallophon absorbed the musicians' comments as he nursed what was left of his mead. He savoured the spice and the warmth of its taste. It had been a bit unpleasant and greatly condemned by the others at first. To him, however, it was just exotic. It was a delightful consequence of human variety. That's all there was; no good, no bad, just variety—beautiful, fascinating differences.

Heath Romanov, married. That philosopher Nasar was right; the gods were dead, and mankind had killed them. All that remained for Kallophon and all other mortals in this world was heartbreak.

He contemplated the Astorian royal as the musicians offered rather unflattering comments about her. He couldn't care less if she had high passions. He didn't get around as much as she did, but his heart indeed followed a similar track; therefore, he could sympathise. Judging by what the musicians were saying, they had another inclination in common, and she seemed to be comfortable with and open about it. To him, that was very promising.

And the thought of bedding her? He tried to conjure up her image in his mind. Her face was a sculptor's dream and a painter's euphoria. From a distance, she seemed thinner than what he usually preferred, but it *Was* From a distance. In Kallophon's experience, a lot of things you held as criteria could melt away when you were close enough to hear the voice, smell the scent, feel the aura. He did not need to be close to her, however, to sense that he was only going to suffer if he tried. Either she'd reject him and possibly end his employment, or indulge him but eventually be another one who broke his pathetic little heart. The time of depression that followed such an end always made him write his worst material, contrary to what most other artists said of themselves. There would likely be others in her court. If there weren't, there would be food, clothes, company, a place to sleep, and maybe the chance to see all the world. Just not a chance at the heart of a queen; wisdom forbade it.

"Not a fan of her nose," He replied to Imogen, then threw back the last of his drink. "But she sounds like she has a wake of fun for me to join in on. Let's hope she liked my music." He pointed to the three of them, the glass still in his hand. "What about you lot? Where will you go after all this?"
Kendall
Lord Eric Stafford
Vallen, Taemar

Eric blinked, watching his wife plunged a sword into the shifter to keep her in place. He almost forgot about the bleeding Nickles beneath him. 

_Goddamn I love that woman._ Eric thought, before he remembered that the boy beneath him was bleeding heavily from a mangled leg. He applies pressure with his jacket covering the wound and wrapped the sleeves around his leg before tying them as tight as he possibly could to prevent further blood flow. Though he couldn't get as high as he'd like. Quickly, Eric took off his belt and fastened it around the top of Nickles' thigh before fastening it painfully tight. 

The action momentarily brought him back to Feyshore, when he was still a squire. A man was bleeding heavily from his thigh and another man-at-arms was wrapping him with fabric as high and tight as possible to prevent blood flow from the leg. 

"Fuck..." Eric muttered, his hands slick with blood. He gave the belt a last tighten to make sure it was tight as it possibly could be.
Katherine
**
Angelica Stafford
Vallen, Taemar
**
Danico Felrantres, of all the physicians in Marin, of course it would be him. Angelica gave him a begrudgingly thankful look before moving away from the beast she'd just pinned to the wall. It wasn't moving, but she didn't think it was dead either. Instead she moved to where the trio were hunched over Anya, dropping to her knees and trying to ignore the warm and wet feeling that came across her shins as she did so. 

She was most certainly kneeling in Anyanka's blood, and she had to clear her throat to keep from letting bile rise as she got a look at it for the first time. Anya hadn't made a noise yet, and it only just occurred to her that it was because she had fainted. _Twice in one day,_ must have been a record _She was right about this fucking place._ Angelica pushed the auburn locks back out of the Queen's face, noting her closed eyes and paling complexion.

"Anya, Anya you've got to wake up, you've got to stay awake." She started, her hand gripping the Queen's chin and squeezing a bit to see if she'd get a reaction. "Heath how long as she been out?" She asked, her blue eyes darting from Anya's face to Heaths. In the blur of the motion between them, she could see how Mikhail was their child, but that wasn't a thought for now either. "Danico can you help her? Do I need to go find someone else to help as well?"