Who: Ebele and open to Staves
What: Ebele visits her old home
Where: Staves kingdom
When: Tuesday afternoon

It had been a long time since she had been back there, it felt like ages. She had taken a horse out early and rose into the Staves kingdom on her own only carrying a small dagger in case she ran into any problems. She didn't run into any trouble as she entered the kingdom, keeping her head low. It was nice to be on familiar grounds, traveling through streets she used to race through as a child.

It was strange, almost as if she were walking through a dream she had once a very long time ago. She even had to reach out and touch one of the stone walls to make sure it was real. Running her fingers along the stone she smiled. She knew the risk in going home but it was nice to just sneak in for the afternoon. As long as she didn't get caught by anyone important. She meandered the streets a bit more, re-aquatinting herself with the shops and the stands, the locals. She didn't quite blend in but it was nice to pretend for once.

Who: Adrienne, Samuel, and OPEN!
What: Adrienne and Sam are sparing when some potentially interesting happens
Where: Swords Kingdom, palace training grounds
When: Tuesday afternoon

Adrienne spun on her heel, bringing her sword around. Metal met metal in a loud crash, her hand shook a little at the reverberation but that was barely anything. She jumped back and brought her sword around again and held it pointed at her opponent, challenging him to swing again.

Samuel had to admit she was becoming quite the challenger. They had practically grown up together but Adi was always just a little bit smaller, a little bit younger, a little bit slower. Her age was starting to show less as they got older though, she had learned to use her size as a weapon. No one expected such a sweet looking girl to wield a sword with such power. He stuck out again, giving her a slightly more challenging swipe with his own sword. "You're getting quite good little one," Samuel grinned as she deflected the blow with a lithe turn.

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Christoph sat low in one of the armchairs in the king and queen's private sitting room. The room had to be passed through in order to enter their bedroom and, for the most part, was typically used as just that: a mere hallway. The only time the sitting room was actually utilized was when Odilia wanted to talk to her husband.

Across from Christoph sat, Odilia stood leaning her hip against a dresser. Words had not been passed since Christoph had entered the room to find her standing there. He recognized what was going on the moment he entered the room. "I feel you have been distant lately," she said breaking the silence, "especially since the party."

Christoph just stared blankly at her from across the room. He lifted a hand and put it to the side of his head before lazily shrugging a shoulder.

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The steaming, hot water poured from the bucket into the bath with a gentle splash. Svana slid her forearm across her forehead before setting the empty bucket down next to the tub with a sigh of relief. Svana, Hanne's nurse aid, had been caring for the strange twin for many years; filling Hanne's bath every night was the most tiresome task of the day but also the last.

What: Curiosity consumes Cecilia as a hooded figure makes yet another regular visit to a secret room in the dungeon
Where: The dungeon of the Stave castle
When: Friday night

Cecilia's unjust imprisonment, Christoph unaware of the false crimes tacked to her name, left her to rot in the dungeon of the Stave castle. She was transferred from the Arcane prison after the castle was deemed unfit to be lived in even for the incarcerated. Here in the Emporer's third son's home her only source of entertainment was watching people out in the yard from her tiny window, watching mice and cockroaches scurry about the dirt floor of her cell, or trying to strike up conversation with the guards that watched her day in and day out.

Occasionally, though, in the dead of night she was able to witness what had become a weekly ritual. A hooded figure would appear and make his or her way to (and then through) a hidden passageway in the dungeon. The hooded figure was never in there, whatever lied beyond the secret door, longer than an hour but Cecilia's curiosity about what was going on grew with each visit.

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Who: Alistair and Ephrem Westerveldt
When: Sunday afternoon
Where: Swords Castle, Alistair's private quarters
What: Alistair and his son have a conversation.

Alistair paced his room as he flicked cards from all around. His mind was wandering, plotting, pondering what to do as he absentmindedly flicked, flicked, ( flicked )

Who: King Varvenis Westerveldt of Pentacles, Princess Maricosa Westerveldt of Pentacles, Queen Elizabeth of Swords and Prince Liam of Swords
When: Thursday morning
Where: Swords Castle
What: A marriage is arranged

The conversation had been a short and tense one. Liam had seen something like this coming for years. Elizabeth had informed Liam that his Uncle Varvenis was coming with Maricosa and they were to discuss a possible marriage arrangement. Elizabeth told Liam that she would give him as much time to come to terms with it, but it was basically finalized. "Why do you do this to me mother?" Liam asked holding his head in his hands. "All I want to do is read my books and travel."

"Sometimes my dear son we must make sacrifices to ensure a brighter future. And we must all do things we don't want to do to ensure the suffering of our enemies," Elizabeth said simply.

( “What enemies?” )

Dearest sister,
I hope this letter finds you well. I write that I may ask a favor of you. My dear Maricosa has yet again expressed her wish to be married and has charged me with the task of finding her an acceptable suitor. I cannot think of any young man in the empire I would sooner trust with my daughter's hand that that of your son Liam. Bariah is of course completely opposed to the idea, but I feel in this instance that my wisdom far exceeds hers. Please think favorably upon my request, for Mari's sake.

Yours, Varvenis


Dearest Varvenis,

I think your proposal is a good one. You have always been wise of character my brother and I trust your judgment. Liam is a most excellent match for your Mari and I know he would take good care of her. The two of them could be insured a very bright future if they get married. I think it may be best if we have a meeting in person before we set anything in motion.

Yours, Elizabeth


Dearest Elizabeth,

You are as always the voice of reason. I will have a traveling party prepared to set off immediately, and we shall make all haste to Swords on the morrow. Mari will be most excited to see you-- and, of course, her bethrothed.

Yours, Varvenis

Who: King Varvenis Westerveldt and Princess Maricosa Westerveldt
When: Saturday morning
Where: Throne Hall, Pentacleon Castle
What: Mari bends her father's ear

King Varvenis had been having this argument with his daughter Maricosa for three years now, and she was most definitely wearing down his patience.

“Daddy!” She stamped her foot impatiently. “You must let me debut this year!”

“Mari,” he said evenly. “You are only fifteen.”

“I am fifteen,” she continued, her voice pitching to a whine. “I will be an old spinster soon!”

The King sighed, and patted the arm of his chair. Mari threw herself onto it and continued begging. “Please Daddy. I should like to have a suitor before it is too late! Finny will never marry, and Ebi’s for Temperance now. Don’t you want any ancestors?”

( “Descendants”, he corrected her absent-mindedly... )

Who: Faiz and Tarven
When: Wednesday afternoon
Where: Outside the blacksmith, Pentacles city
What: They talk religion and demonstrate moral obligations

"The Mumtaz asked after you," Faiz grinned wickedly and sat delicately astride the fence outside the blacksmith. "She said she's never seen you take revelation, not once."

Tarven groaned. If the Mumtaz had noticed he'd not been taking revelation at the monastery, then the Ayatollah would probably have noticed too, and then he'd be dragged in with the transgressors for punishment. "I shouldn't have to take revelation if I haven't anything to reveal." He scowled and laid another rod in the furnace.

The blonde slave's grin grew wider still. "Is that so? What about Meriam from the dairy farm?"

"What about her?" With all the work her master put her through, Tarven did wonder how Faiz managed to find so much time to gossip.

"She swears up and down you and she made temptation just this Monday! Honestly, I was a little offended. She's very plain you know; and I'm local."

"What?!" He dropped the rod he was moving in the furnace, too deep to pull out while the fire raged. "I did never! That girl's a liar. And you owe me a length of iron."

Faiz laughed loudly; the eastern lilt to her voice distinct above the city noise. "Aye, you can give me a length and we'll call it even."

"You peddle filth just as much as your master, Faiz."

She shrugged, indifferent to the accusation. "If it buys my freedom." She shifted off the fence with deceptive grace as he moved to shove her out of the way, handing him the enormous leather glove he was reaching for as she did so. "You're going to put your hand in the fire?"

"Sooner the fire than your master's purse," he muttered. A flash burn was nothing compared to the lashing Faiz would get if he did demand a replacement of her.

She did not respond, instead bunching up the hem of her dress and soaking it in the trough by the furnace; ready to tear off strips for bandages should he come out of it with a burn. He was one of the only other people in the town to treat her as a person; any other would have simply demanded resitution for the lost metal even knowing that it would earn her a savage beating, if not worse. But she supposed that's why she and Tarven were friends; because he'd put his hand in the fire for her, and were she ever in the position to do the same, she would.

"Fiona darling, don't slump."

"I'm not slumping daddy," she replied, putting on her best pout face. She did however sit up straighter before sipping her tea. Her hands moved elegantly about her plate, cutting her meat with fine precision before taking the smallest bite to her lips. She even dabbed her mouth with her napkin, looking to please her father with the manners she had learned.

( And for heaven's sake Leopold, take your elbows off the table. )