<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #8040FF">House of Ostergaard</span></span><br/><span style="font-size: 130%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #8040FF">Castle Ofertha</span></span><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://aidanmoher.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/the-huntress-by-s-ross-browne.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #8040FF">Valkyr Thyra Ekundayo</span></span></div><br/><br/>Thyra had watched with little interest in the jousts that were going on in the arena. She would be up soon enough, but she wasn't concerned. Most of the winners of the jousts had been mediocre at best and the losers--well, they were losers for a reason. She did wonder, however, where Felix and Freya were. It wasn't like Felix to be late for anything, so she had a feeling it was Freya who was at fault for the delay. It wasn't that it mattered if they watched her or not, they knew already knew what she was capable of--it just unnerved her that they weren't already there. Didn't Felix complain about some politics he had to handle?<br/><br/>She gave a smirk, her dark lips seductively curving though it was unintentional. She was pulling her thick braids behind her, arranging them so they would not be uncomfortable in her helmet later. She grabbed her items needed, though a squire Felix had given her had tried to do it for her. She had growled out she didn't need help and the boy coward under the woman's harsh glare. She was beautiful and terrifying. Exotic to many of the southerners for her dark skin and almond eyes.<br/><br/>The squire, however, insisted to follow her. He had said that Felix would have his head otherwise and could she just let him keep that? She had given a<span style="color: #8040FF">'tch'</span>sound over her shoulder and he took it as permission, following the intimidating woman out to the arena where she was to wait her turn and prepare herself. As she passed by through the tents, she saw an angry Sir Alexander leaving Sir Leon's tent and she found that curious. Unlike her sister, she knew much of the politics in Ipale, but only because of her old life. She had no doubt that Freya was spitting and cursing at Felix the entire trip towards the grounds.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #8040FF">'Speak of the devil,' </span></span>she thought as she looked up, seeing the forms of Felix and Freya coming over a hill. They were still a little bit of distance, but close enough that she could identify them. They both looked worn and tired by the other and she couldn't help but let out a chuckle. No doubt their beliefs were, once again, not aligning.