Terence
Tiny Vik
The Mizzen Market, Tonate Proper

Vik smirked beneath his mask, such an innocent view of how the world works beyond humans was rare to him.

"Your life is worth so much more than this gold you offer, Arin.  I can't accept it in good faith, as repayment.  Besides, you aren't in the right state of mind to be making deals, just focus on resting right now."  He pushed the mug of ale closer before the boy took a sip.  Before the waiter left, Vik whispered something about putting everything on the tab he was opening.  "If you truly wish to repay the debt, you'll need all your strength, lad, let me take care of the payment."

Vik waddled over to another chair, and hoisted himself into the seat by the elbows.  After he adjusted, and crossed his legs at the ankles, Tiddlywinks leapt into his lap, and he began to scratch the cat behind the ears.

"Tell me, Arin, why were you thrown out into the garbage?"  He spoke softly, accompanied by the purr his companion was emitting.
Steven
```
Prince Mikhail Durkhan-Maith
Maith Mansion, Tonate Proper ```

Mikhail had spent the evening with the Staffords, at least part of it. Angelica was insistent that he needed to stay with her, and seeing as how he wasn't really keen on exploring the _Pleasure Barge_, he wasn't bothered by the alternate route taken to the Maith Gardens. Arriving there sparked memories of his time here, before he was an Astorian Prince. Before he was a Feyshorian Prince. Back when he could barely speak and his time was spent with the piles of books brought up from the library. 

It felt like it had been a lifetime ago. Duties at home weren't harsh, but his mother's style of ruling wasn't the same as Maith's. Days could pass and he'd not see any work being done, only to blink and have it revealed to him she'd been working on something in private that was to be unveiled the next morning. She didn't let him in one the process, which, he felt was to keep his childhood in tact a little while longer. 

He, personally, felt it served as an injustice to keep him from all the practice he could get on the position before he was asked to take it and couldn't ask for her help. It wasn't something he liked to think about, and every time it was brought up she gave a little more leeway, but the expression of guilt always came with it. He had a feeling she felt she was turning into an awful mother as he grew older. He didn't really know what to say to that, to be honest. 

Arriving at the gardens, he split from the Staffords, his own Eclipse tailing him as he made his way through the gardens that had helped keep him from going stir crazy while he healed. The blooms were the same, hyper-saturated with the light of the setting sun. Animals were new though. The feast was started with a first course being passed about, and he wondered why he'd yet to see his mother arrive. She'd been on the barge, and he could see it illuminate from the harbor, so either she'd gotten off or was still lingering. Why... He _really_ didn't want to think about. 

No sooner had the thought passed his mind did he turn, finding himself offered a clay bowl by a homely servant who was smiling very brightly as she dipped low enough for him to see she wasn't quite to uniform. He kept his eye on the bowl, nodding his thanks as her thick accent murmured his title before she dashed off. Was this what adulthood was like for a Prince? He wished there were more familiar faces like at the Council.

```Queen Anyanka Durkhan
Maith's Feast, Tonate Proper```

A familiar face did arrive, however; auburn hair nestled beneath a silver tiara, it's gems sparkling like the water in the harbor where it misted. She'd stopped at their own ship long enough to change into something a little more... Herself. Jax had accompanied her, though didn't seem anything close to excited about returning to the ball instead of heading back for home. She could understand that, but she had a duty to make an appearance. Maith and the Southern Federation were her allies, She'd not seen much of the man since the Council, and it was well past time for them to speak on upcoming events. 

Namely, his hopes of bringing Mikhail into Terresol with him. 

Her dress was warmer than she'd have liked, thick pressed velvet in a dark black clinging to her frame from her bust to waist, loosening at her hips and swaying with every step as the skirt trailed behind her. A crown of silver graced the neckline, gems placed to match the tiara she'd chosen for the occasion. Usually, she'd have opted for something to cover her arms - between the scar from the Shifter's bite and the sigils that lined her arms, she wasn't keen on having them out anymore. Weaknesses on display, she'd thought. But tonight they didn't feel like a weakness. They felt like battle scars, proof she was willing to fight. And Win. 

Something she felt Maith would appreciate to see in an ally. 

Her Eclipse flanked her, two on her left and two on her right, all wearing their full armor of silver, grey, and black. Jax's golden moth emblem caught the glow of the setting sun, and when she glanced his way briefly she could see her hair gave off the same glow. Ethereal, and a small smirk graced her lips. She'd started to think age was pulling her beauty from her, but tonight, amongst the backdrop of the Southern gardens, she could understand why some mistook her for a reincarnation of Auryn.

Music struck up, loud and joyous over the gardens, waters, and patrons. Anyanka moved with ease through those in attendance, heading past the dancefloor and soup tables, straight for the seat of power and patron of all of this. In her hands she held a small thin wooden box, no bigger nor thicker than a playing card in all it's dimensions. 

"King Maith." She started, a smile on her face as she gathered her skirt with one hand, stepping up from the grass towards the table he occupied. "Thank you for the invitation," As she spoke, her hand stretched out, offering the box that sat in the palm of her hand to him. It rested in the center, and the distance between herself and the King meant he'd have to move forward to grab it. It gave her enough time to deepen her smile, the sigils on her arms illuminating a soft, icy blue. 

As the magic traced it's way down one, the scars glowing before bleeding down into the next as her veins pulled the magic down towards her palm. The box that sat within it caught with a fire, the same cool shade as the carvings on her skin that were needed to control it, and the box melted away to ash as the fire took to it's meal. 

Releasing her skirts to the wind, the ash blew with them, and in her palm - dusted with ash- sat a small silver ship. A cast of the 4 that were being build in Astoria as they spoke.

"Careful, My King. It's warm."
Ernest
**Lord Alex Coldwater**
**Sea near Southern Isles**

The boat rocked and swayed under the wind as it neared the islands. Alex stepped onto the deck of the ship as a knight quickly pressed a salute, quite same as the other knights that saw him. He was quite late to reach the balls, but the late arrival was unavoidable, with rebel activity rising in the peninsula again, his attention was rightfully divided. 

The wolves did not like going on ships, so when the ships docked into the shrouds, they were the first to leap out. 

In all Alex had come with, what seemed like a larger force than needed but his mother had insisted that he go with a good amount of bodyguards for himself. The group in all was of about sixty knights with horses, twelve dire-wolves and servants to maintain the horses, cook food and serve himself.

**Lord Alex Coldwater**
**Maith's Feast, Tonate Proper**

Alex didn't have the time to rest, he had enough sleep on the ship and he was used to situations like this, it's not the first time he has had to rush into a feast because he was dealing with something else. 

His dress was picked out by one of his servants. It was a rather dark red tunic, reaching down to his knees with works of gold on it, brown leather pants with matching boots and a black cape, also with gold ornamenting it. All in all, he felt quite fashionable wearing it. To adore the clothes, he carried his sword the famous Starblade along side him, shoved in it's scabbard. 

As Alex walked in, surrounded by six knights flying the red phoenix which looked like it had caught fire in the setting sun, he slightly loosened the front of his tight tunic, it was quite hot down here on the islands, hotter than he was used to. 

The music was loud and joyous, spreading over the gardens. As Alex motioned the knights to go out and enjoy the city, he bee lined towards the King's table but as he reached there, he saw the King was occupied with a beautiful woman, who it was he couldn't recognise but he could swear she looked familiar. "My king" Alex spoke out with a light bow. "It is quite an honour to be here, in your ball today." 

As he said all this, he looked slightly at the lady, his mind snapped back into place... This was Queen Anyanka Durkhan. Realising he quickly moved to offer a slight bow towards the Queen but disastrously fumbled doing that. How could a warrior so skilled in battle fumble doing a courtesy before a beautiful Queen?....He did not know. The only words that escaped his lips were "My Queen."
Ashley
Lord Eric Stafford
The Feast, Tonate Proper

As Mikhail wandered off into the feast, Eric took his wife's arm and guided her to their assigned spots. They had spent quite a bit of the trip in constant company, he was somewhat looking forward to sitting down with his wife and having a nice dinner. He found their spot and made sure Angelica was seated before taking a seat himself, right next to his wife. 

_I hope he'll like the gifts._ Eric stressed, not letting it show. The idea of gift giving for visiting wasn't entirely alien, but he'd never had to figure out such elaborate gifts. Eric had always just given a bottle of wine, or a few depending on the occasion. 

"The soup looks good," Eric commented to his wife, looking to her to gauge her reaction. He placed their gifts on the table, well within his sight. "And you look lovely." Eric said, placing his hand around her waist, pulling her toward him a bit.
Steven
```
Lady Angelica Stafford
The Feast, Tonate Proper
```
Eric took her arm, making her pull her gaze away from the prince to her husband. He was already guiding her away, and by the time she looked back Mikhail had disappeared into the crowd. Great. If that kid died again it was on her head, and she didn't really think Anyanka would take kindly to 'I stepped away for Baby Ray soup' as a good answer. Still, he had his guards, she'd just need to check in again. Her gaze moved to one of her guards, and the stern look she gave before nodding in the Prince's direction was enough to send the South Feyshorian man off in search of the heir. 

They were seated as the feast started, far enough away form the main tables to not be bothered with constant pleasantries, but she could see Maith from her spot. They'd go up eventually and say hello. For now, she took the seat she was offered and smiled to Eric when he commented on her looking lovely. 

"You're biased, my dear." She reminded him, though she leaned into the way he wrapped his hand around her waist. "One more night, and we can go home, don't you miss home?" She questioned. As someone who had spent too much time in the humidity, she was itching to get back to a stable - less salty climate.
Cedric
Bastien de Lysse
The Mizzen Market, Tonate Proper

The soft expression left Bastien's face as soon as Lutur began to speak, replaced with cold indifference. He had initially thought, for a moment, that Lutur might have matured since last they had met. And yet as soon as he opened his stout mouth, egotistical drivel began to pour forth. *'He is the same tantrum-throwing little boy I remember.'* His eyes flicked the man's smaller stature up and down. *'Hasn't grown up in any sense, it seems.'*

Though his expression did not change, Bastien's amethyst eyes glittered like shards of ice as Lutur's words became increasingly abhorrent. Talking about the apparent pleasantries and luxuries that occurred after his own father's death. To see Calypso subjected to such inane drivel was hard to stand by and watch. Luckily, she made her own dry remark that went unbeknownst to Lutur and, for a moment, the corner of Bastien's mouth turned upwards ever so slightly. His neutral expression returned as Calypso turned to ask Samsom about their service together.

At the mention of the incident with the Korkovian women, a small amused huff escaped Bastien's lips and he gazed up at the sky, gently shaking his head at the irking memory. He had not taken part, gods no, but it was certainly a scene to remember. He had been glad they departed from Korkou as soon as they did. It didn't feel soon enough. At the mention of Carney Vortigern, the man, with his determined rage and tactical precision, came into Bastien's mind. And to think, soon Bastien would be serving underneath another Vortigern. He glanced down at the simple clothes he was donned in. *'I must change before I make my entrance at the ball,'* He thought. *'And perhaps down a few drinks as well. It's going to be a long night.'*
** **

Bastien opened his mouth to reply to Samson's pleasantry, but was cut off as Lutur jerked from his sister's grasp and promptly interjected into the conversation. The heat of the isles did not warm the frigid gleam in Bastien's eyes as he gazed down at Lutur. He was not in a place to say anything regarding the late Lord Dumagne, but now his own father was brought into the mix. And Lutur still had the audacity to act superior. A foolish decision

"I'm quite happy with the prospect of my father living for many more years to come," He replied coolly as he stared down at Lutur. His voice was crisp, formal, but not confrontational. "A man's true worth is not only weighed by his birth-given titles. Acts of bravery and selflessness for one's people are far more impressive accolades, are they not?" His tone was casual but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "A strong character makes for a strong leader. Anyone may be born into a high position of power. It is, however, a special breed that actually earns their position in the eyes of others." He gave Lutur a small sharp nod, one of his lips turning upwards slightly as he said, "But I'm sure a man of your caliber knew of such things."

He did not mention how low Lutur's caliber was.

"But I digress," He continued as he turned back to the group. The start of the ball was imminent, and he needed to get ready. He locked eyes with Calypso for a moment, then thought *'To the hells with it,'* And offered her his arm. It was more rigid and formal than before, but the gesture was clear as he turned in the direction of the mansion. "I'm afraid we must continue to head back to the mansion if we are to be punctual for the ball." His eyes scanned over Lutur before they flicked back and forth from Peraz to Samson. "I'm sure we'll be able to talk to one another more during the festivities."