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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">Lord Rian Desramaux</span></span>
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</div><br/><br/>The castle was abuzz of servants milling about. Their footsteps continued to echo down the dank halls, along with the occasional bit of whisper or gossip. Lord Desramaux’s personal advisor, Esbin, had lit the proverbial fire beneath everyone’s feet, with high expectations as to the castle tidiness upon the Lord’s return. His stern silhouette had caught sight of the Lord’s new wife when she’d wandered through the halls, seeming to be lost without much purpose. It didn’t come as a surprise, considering she’d been little more than a commoner before the wedding.<br/><br/>Regardless, she still had a role to play.<br/><br/>“Your Ladyship? Are you decent?” came the call of Dalma, Myra’s personally appointed lady-in-waiting. She knocked three times before daring to nudge open the door to peer inside. When she saw her to be clothed, she stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind her. The petite, silver haired women curtsied quickly before taking a few steps toward Myra; there was a hint of anxious energy in her feet. “The Lord is nearly here! Him and his entourage have been spotted just a ways away, Lady Myra. Come, come! You must be there to greet him!” Dalma urged with a wide look in her eyes.<br/><br/>Dalma lead the way through the maze-like halls and down a few flights of stairs until they entered the  main hall. The torches about the interior were being lit, casting a orange glow across the stone and tapestries. Dalma pulled open the door for Myra to walk through and was mindful about her dress, helping to lift the back of it so as to keep excess dirt and dust from getting all over it as they headed outside.<br/><br/>A number of other servants were gathered out front. Esbin was there too, with his hands folded behind his back and his posture as rigid as his personality. Before them, the gate of the looming stone walls that surrounded the castle began to open. The clattering of hooves followed, as the Lord and his entourage came through. A number of proud looking horses surrounded an ornate carriage. Each rider was clad in a burgundy colored hood with a long cape, the likes of which caught the bits of breeze that flittered through the air. When the parade of horses came to a stop near the front steps of the castle, the servants quickly went to work helping those on horseback down from their saddles while a number of stable boys took to gathering up the horses and leading them elsewhere. Esbin stepped up to the carriage to open the door himself. Except as he got a look inside, his brows furrowed; the interior was empty. He looked about with a concerned look on his face, before his eyes trailed to the other servants as well as Myra, looking a little bewildered.<br/><br/>A strong hand came to rest on Myra’s shoulder. The gloved palm squeezed gently. Behind Myra was one of the horsemen. He pulled back his hood, exposing his dark hair and a pair of familiar amber eyes. Lord Rian Desramaux was standing there, behind his wife, clad in the attire of his servants.<br/><br/>“My Lord, what is the meaning of this trickery?” Esbin asked, sounding a tad exasperated. Rian’s hand remained resting on Myra’s shoulder but his attention was set upon his advisor.<br/><br/>“A matter to be discussed elsewhere, Esbin. Worry yourself not.”  Esbin didn’t look convinced but did not press his Lord further. Rian’s eyes flicked to Myra as he tipped his head toward the front door of the castle. “Thank you all for greeting me. Let us step inside and get more comfortable.”<br/><br/>Dalma and a few of the other servants pushed the doors open for their Lord and his Lady to walk through. Silently, Rian took the lead down the hall, following his nose to the meal that had been prepared for his return. Within the dining hall, the long table had been laid out with a few choice dishes: spit grilled pheasant, some hearty beef stew, a mountain of rolls ready to be buttered and a platter of brilliant red grapes. A few of the servers hurried to their Lord's and Lady's seats and pulled them out for them to sit. Rian let out a hint of a relieved sigh as he sunk down into the chair, happy to be off the horse he’d been riding.<br/><br/>A number of servants continued to flutter about, pouring them some water as well as glasses of wine. Thankfully, once the flurry of activity settled, Rian and his new wife were left to themselves to enjoy their meal (although Esbin proved a bit of a pest, wanting to discuss matters with the Lord before they ate. Rian shooed him away, happily.) Once they were alone, a few brief pauses of silence stretched between them, until Rian subtly cleared his throat to shatter the quiet.<br/><br/>“... Have you been well in my absence, Myra?” Rian asked cordially, as he picked up his glass and stole a sip of the deep red wine. Another relieved hint of a sigh escaped him, parched from the trip he’d just been through. His eyes idly trailed along his new wife's frame, taking in the ornate dress she was wearing as well as her elegant features he'd not seen since their wedding day. He wasn't sure if their being so suddenly parted had been a good thing or a bad thing for their so newly bonded marriage, considering Myra had seemed so tense during the entire ceremony.<br/><br/>Not that he'd exactly known the woman before choosing her for his wife, but something seemed off about her, though the Lord couldn't quite put his finger on it. Something between when he'd first laid eyes on her in the village and the day of their wedding, something in her had changed, of that he was certain.<br/><br/>Despite his silent observations, the Lord's posture was relaxed albeit straight and formal while his expression remained stoic and neutral.