Lord and Lady LaVelle were not so difficult to find; unlike their daughter, dressed in the sylvan wisps of silver and white, they were both proudly clad in their house colors, deep red and russets that, when there were many of their household gathered together, gave them the appearance of a shifting bouquet of roses and peonies - though some of those who were not fond of the family compared them to tomatoes, but that rarely happened in earshot.<br/><br/>Many in the LaVelle colors were dotted throughout the ballroom and the other rooms surrounding, much of the house having been opened for the ball, but the thickest gathering was around Lord and Lady LaVelle; she sat upon a chair while her husband stood behind, both indulging in their hosts wine and chatting amiably with those around them. The Murnaus in attendance were likely similarly gathered in quite some other part of the house.<br/><br/>When Lawrence Chester approached the group, most of the conversation lulled, naturally curious and cautious eyes looking him over and trying to figure out just who he might be, bearing the colors of neither of the great and quietly warring houses.<br/><br/>"Good eve to you, sir," Lord LaVelle greeted him jovially enough, and beckoned for a servant passing with a tray of wine. "There's room enough in these cups for another - join us, perhaps?"<br/>