The year is 1677, the food is delectable, the dress is grand, and the times carefree.

Or so it would seem.

Beneath the surface of grand balls, rides through the forest and leisurely strolls through the gardens, lies a web of deceit, malice, and even murder. Do you have what it takes to survive the court of the Baroque era?

The Palace of Light and Air is home to the royal family and their many, seemingly loyal subjects. The King’s last advisor, the Duke of Mollier, had a most unfortunate accident that lead to his death. Since then the many nobles of court (the courtiers) have been doing whatever it takes to acquire the King’s favor and become his new advisor. In the mean time, the King is content to seek counsel from his wife, the Queen Isabella, and his old friend, Duc d'Lorraine.

Though the game has changed slightly from the original, I simply could not top eternal’s description.
The Roleplay:
Each roleplay day is split into thirds, the morning, the afternoon, and the evening. Each part of the day will last about four real life days. This will be adjusted as needed to allow everyone ample time to roleplay their characters. One roleplay day is considered a round.

Rules:
Follow all roleplaying rules of this forum.
All characters must be adults or elders.
Only a Duc or Duchess can become the King’s Advisor.
All RPs must have a minimum of 8 lines. You are encouraged to build conversations via PM then post them in the thread if need be.
Do your best to stay in the feel of the times. Remember, this is before electricity, running water, and automobiles.

The Rank & Titles:
Duc & Duchess – This is the highest level attainable in court. They have the most money, the best suites, and the most sordid past. Each character of this level starts with 80,000 livres, and a major scandal.
Comte & Comtess – The middle level of power in the court. They’re not the smallest fish in the pond, but they sure don’t rule the roost. Each character of this level starts with 60,000 livres, and either a major or minor scandal, decided by a randomizer.
Baron & Baroness- The lowest level of nobles in court. They are just beginning their journey up the ladder. Each character of this level starts with 40,000 livres and a minor scandal.
Untitled Characters – These characters have no title and are referred to simply as Mr. and Mrs. They may very well think themselves wealthy and important, but they’re nothing compared to the nobles with titles. Each character of this level starts with 20,000 livres and no scandals.

There are two ways to gain a title. You can buy a title, or be given a title from the King. It costs 80,000 livres to buy your way up one title.

Scandals:
A scandal can be either a minor scandal or a major scandal. (These are considered levels.)

Minor Scandals: These scandals have to do with flirtations, having relations with a commoner, dueling, and blackmail. If a scandal of this nature reaches the King’s ear, the character will be demoted one rank, and/or given a “morality fine” of 50,000 livres.
Major Scandals: These scandals have to do with infidelity, murder, treason and stealing from the King. If this type of scandal reaches the King’s ear, you are guaranteed banishment from court. (Members of the Royal family, and the advisor are the only ones exempt from this rule.)

When a new character enters the RP they are required to begin with a scandal. These are referred to as given scandals. The level of the given scandal depends on their title and rank. (See section above.) During the RP new scandals are sure to be born. These are referred to as created scandals. All these scandals, both given and created will be put into a scandal database. A created scandal will only stay in the database for one RP week, given scandals stay in there indefinitely. Each round (1 RP day) a randomizer will be ran and a scandal chosen. This scandal will make its way to the ear of Miss Mercy Flight.

Who is Mercy Flight? She is the court gossip, the court snoop. Each day she will have a scandal told to her. Depending on how the randomizer goes, it may already be old news to her. She will then alert your character that she knows their dirty little secret. It’s up to you to do whatever it takes to earn her silence as each day Mercy Flight has the opportunity to tattle to the King. So if she approaches you, it may be in your best interest to do whatever it takes to appease her. IF you decide to bribe her, you must PM me the amount of money you bribed.

Money:
It’s what makes the world go round. Money, and lots of it. Your character begins with a set amount of money depending on their title. There are two ways to earn more money. If it is suggested to him, the King may gift it to you. The other way is by visiting the Court Accountant (randomizer), in RP formally asking for the money. The request will be denied or approved formally in the RP. You can only ask for money four times, and each request is limited to a maximum of 20,000 livres. You must have two rounds between each visit to the accountant. The money is measured in the baroque French currency – livres.

Suggestions:
Every round the King will heed a suggestion made by either the Queen, or Duc d'Lorraine. (The decision is made with the randomizer.)
Suggestions will consist of:
- Granting titles- they can suggest you go up one title from your own
- Bestowing money – a financial gift of up to 40,000 livres may be given
- Demoting- they can suggest you go down one title
- Fining- a financial reprimand of up to 20,000 livres
- Banishment- if they get mad enough at you, you could be banished from court

The format: Each RP Day morning, the King will hold his morning announcements. This is when he will follow through on a suggestion given to him, and deal with any scandals that he has learned about. The afternoon and evening is free time for your character.

Gaining the Prize:
Once your character has been a Duc or a Duchess for four RP days, you are eligible to be appointed Advisor. Once you are eligible, you must get the Queen or the King's old friend to suggest you be appointed to the King. Once they make the suggestion, the King (a randomizer) will decide if he agrees. If the King does not agree to appoint you, you must wait another four RP days before the suggestion can be given again.

If the King does appoint you, congratulations, you’re the new advisor. As the advisor you now have the King’s ear and will be able to give suggestions just as the Queen and Duc d'Lorraine do. It’s time to pay back all those who helped you get to where you are. However, just because you’ve gotten the position does not mean you’re safe, or the game is over. If the king was to find out about a major scandal of yours, you will be fired and demoted to the level of a Comte. The position becomes open again for someone else to enjoy their moment of fame. If you become the advisor and are not active for two RP days,(roughly a month real time) a new advisor may be appointed.

Applications:
Though the palace of light and air is indeed grand, there are only fourteen suites available. So if you no longer wish to participate, please have the curtesy to remove your character from the RP to allow others to join. Do not be surprised if your character is banished if you have been inactive for a month’s time.

When you submit an application please include the following:

After you submit your application, you must PM me your character’s given scandal. This is the scandal they begin the game with, that will stay in the scandal database. You may not post an RP until after I’ve approved your scandal. Remember, the severiety of the scandal depends on your characters rank.

There are limited spots open so please be sure there is room for your desired rank.

If there are any question, please feel free to PM me.

The Palace of Light and Air… A splendid French palace exquisitely decorated and lavishly furnished. To the north of the palace lies woods that are a popular place for people to explore, get lost, and simply enjoy time away from others. The stables lie between the Palace and the woods. To the south of the palace you’ll find the palace rose garden, fountain and maze. The maze is a popular place for young lovers to get some privacy. To the south east is the palace orangery, a wonderful haven for flowers of all types throughout the brutal winter.
The Palace Main Floor –

The east wing is home for the higher ranking nobles and the west wing home to the lower ranking ones. “Salon” is a meeting place, weather it’s a casual tea, or a party thrown by a courtier, these are rooms for socializing. The Grand Salon is where the King gives his morning announcements. The Great Hall is a multi-purpose room for when the weather does not make outdoor activities possible. Practice fencing, play croquet, this room is large enough for most anything.

The Palace Upper Floor-

The upper floor is home to the royal family and the king’s advisor. It is not wise to step foot on the upper floor without an invitation from a member of the royal family.

The Palace Lowest Floor-

The lowest floor of the palace is where the servants spend much of their time. It is a floor most nobles never descend to.


The Royal Palace is home to many people. Here’s the few who’s names you need to know.
(All of these characters are not eligible to hold the advisor’s position.)

The King Edouard Auguste Louis Rotherham IV
Age: 42


King Edouard is a private man who spends most of his time in his Salon, or in his private suite. He leans heavily upon his wife and his friend Duc d'Lorraine for advice now that his beloved Duc of Mollier is gone.
He is an NPC whos actions depend on a randomizer. The only people who have access to him is the Queen and his old friend.

Queen Isabella Rotherham
Age: 23


King Edouards second wife, she is often called the most powerful woman of the kingdom. It is a title that she enjoys living up to immensely.

Dimitri-Josèphe, Duc d'Lorraine
Age: 48

The King's old friend, Dimitri, is quite opposite of the King in nearly every way imaginable.

Princess Adalita
The King’s only heir, she is a rebellious young lady. Sadly, Princess Adalita is no longer with us.

Baroness Mercy Flight
Age: "A woman never tells!"


A message from Mercy:
"Why hello dear courtier, my name is Mercy. I have been around this court for many, many years. If your like me you get to know everyone well in time, whether they want you to or not. Now it is time to decide what your future holds; welcome to my game, my world. Do you wish to play?"

Prince Octavien Lahance
Age: 21


Octavien came to this court as an untitled man. Thanks to his luck in happening across the Queen when she was in need he found himself in her favor, eventually moving up the ranks to the title of a Comte. Though he does not have direct access to the king, his marriage to the princess makes him ineligible for the advisor’s position.

The morning of Day 2, there was an apparent attempt made on Prince Octavien's life by Marquess Federico Berini, one of the queen's past lovers. Later Octavien confided in Isabella that he framed the Marquess.

Duc d'Lorraine, Edouard's old friend has arrived to the Palace. He is to stay and give suggestions to the king regarding his courtiers.

Baroness Mercy Flight tripped and fell, shattering a vase that was a favorite of the first queen. She confessed to Isabella, and seemingly got rewarded with 20,000 livres for her honesty.

One of the guests attending the royal wedding was Marquess Federico Berini, one of Isabella's past lovers. He had saught her company, however Isabella enjoys the company of the newly crowned Prince Octavien more. This past night Federico inturupted Isabella's harpsichord lesson with Octavien, and caused a few problems between the two love birds. Marquess Berini was escorted from the upper floor, only after threatening Octavien Lahance.

The Princess engagement to Duc Silvius Peitou-Charentes was announced. Two days later, everyone was shocked to see Princess Adalita marry Comte Octavien Lahance instead. Rumors are flying about that the Princess' sudden change of heart was because her intended groom was seen leaving the room of Baroness Roseline Taylor the morning of his wedding. However, since the wedding, the Princess and Duc Silvius have been seen in each others company many times. The most notable of which Duc Charentes left his own party with the Princess on his arm.

Day 2 of the new year (Day 1 was in the previous thread.)

Edouard entered the Grand Salon with his wife upon his arm, and the newly crowned Prince behind him. Missing today, was Princess Adalita, a fact that left Edouard in a rather short supply of patience.

No sooner had he taken his usual place he demanded the nobles cease their endless chatter with his usual authoritive words. “The King Speaks.” Those words alone brought an immediate end to the ceaseless chatter. Just as quickly as the talk had stopped, whispers began to rise as many noticed that the Princess was not with the rest of her family.

“This morning I fear I must bring good news, and bad news. First, I shall take care of business.” A servant from the side met the King as he took a step down from his position. “Baroness Flight,” he called beckoning the woman to make her position known. “Our beloved Queen has brought to my attention that your honesty is a noble trait that should not go unrewarded.” He handed the Baroness a certificate. “Honesty is a trait I admire, and so it shall be rewarded with a sum of 20,000 livres.”

After allowing Mercy the appropriate amount of time to courtesy, Edouard began making his way back to his prior position, not waiting his arrival to continue speaking. “Since much time has passed, and I still have not found a courtier who I esteem worthy of the highest position of being my advisor, I have decided to open the position to those not currently in our court. I do expect that our numbers will soon be added to.”

Now that he was back at his normal perch, he continued speaking. One would have thought that his voice could not get anymore void of joy, however, it soon proved it could. “As I’m sure all have noticed, the fair Princess Adalita is not with us this morning. Something has come over her, I am hopeful that she shall resume her duties soon. In the meantime her suite is off limits, to everyone. No one is to enter her suite without my permission.”

With that final announcement, the royal family, minus one made their way out of the Grand Salon.

As the morning came, Isabella remained laying in her bed. Her eyes however were not closed. She had sought the comfort of sleep, for when asleep one didn’t feel any hurt or pain. Yet sleep proved to be the elusive fortress that she was unable to find. Instead she remained under her covers, content to stay there. Margret had asked her a couple times to rise, Isabella’s only reply was that she was not feeling well, and wished to stay where she was. Margret knew that something had happened with the Marquess as every servant privileged enough to work the top floor knew something had happened. However Isabella did not confide in her friend the true nature of her sudden illness. She simply couldn’t bring herself to utter what had happened. That she had become weak and fragile. She had a reputation to uphold after all.

Soon a servant entered and spoke with Margret briefly. Margret then walked towards Isabella’s bedside. “It seems you are not the only one who does not feel well my lady.” Isabella looked towards Margret with curiosity. “It seems the Princess has come down with something suddenly. She is too weak to stand.” The statement brought Isabella out of her daze. Though they had not been close, she still cared for the girl. Despite being in her night dress, she quickly made her way to Adalita’s suite.

Upon entering the room she made her way quickly to the girl’s bedside. She couldn’t fathom that this body that seemed to have the shadow of death over it could be Adalita. She had just been so alive and beautiful two days ago at her wedding. How could she suddenly be so ill? Isabella’s thoughts went to the unborn baby that Adalita carried. The young Princess was unresponsive to Isabella’s presence. There was no good Isabella could do for the girl, so she made her way back to her own suite.

She inhaled deeply. Before she did not wish to leave her room, but with the Princess being in such a horrid state, she certainly could not be selfish. She stared at her reflection in the mirror as the servants hastily began to do her hair. She scolded herself for becoming what she had. Yes, she had never felt so alive when in Octavien’s presence. the thought of never feeling the warmth of his embrace again pained her. But she still was The Queen Isabella Rotherham. And she would behave as much so, at least when it was her time to play the part before the audience of the world.

Her servants had done their job well, and soon Isabella found herself giving her appearance in the mirror one more pass over once again. Despite forcing herself into the royal mold, she could see in her reflection that she was not nearly alive this morning as she was the morning prior. She was certain those who did not care, such as Edouard, would not notice a single thing was wrong. However she feared if someone looked hard enough, they would notice her usually cordial smile was not nearly as wide today. If someone had reason to suspect, they would see she was broken. She wondered if the single someone who had the ability to see within her would dare to look.

Soon she left her suite, once again seeing Octavien and Edouard standing together. Edouard's face was heavy with concern, obviously for his daughter. Isabella kept her focus on her husband, as if she allowed her eyes to drift, she was sure the feelings of the night before would spring forth from the deep place she had just barely managed to bury them.

The mood was somber as the three of them made their way to the Grand Salon in silence. Isabella stood as her usual statuesque self while Edouard seemed to rush his way through the morning announcements. In seemingly record time he had finished what he had to say and Isabella found herself in her private suite once more.

The Baroness opened eyes, the new morning was there and from the package on her dressing table so was the gift she has ordered, helena however was not, Mercy did not begrudge her maid the freedom she deserved but she did wonder where she was.

She dressed swiftly and made her way to morning announcements, she had money bestowed on her for the destruction of the vase, she laughed inwardly at that fact, by the time she returned, it seemed Helena had also with a patch of Roses in white and a delicate pink, "my dear you have outdone yourself this time, these will be perfect" she took the spray of roses and placed it inside the vase from the package, it was a peach/pink vase with a cream banner around it with an inlay of white roses, acccompanying it was an urn in the same pattern, it was slightly bulkier with a lid, Mercy felt the Queen could put it to better use than the vase, however she saw the vase as necessasary. She smiled to herself as she constructed the note to accompany it:

My Dear Queen

Upon the understanding you did not require a direct replacement I have had these made for you as a token of my esteem, I hope you find these a suitable gift. I would also like to offer my wellest wishes for your Daughters, well-being. However she is a strong young girl, whom I am sure will return to health in a flourish.

Your humble servant,

Baroness Flight.

She, was going to dispatch helena with them but seing her struggle to hold the both on a tray she took the urn back and walked to the queens suite along side her companion, on her way up she way-layed a passing servant and had her accompany Helena to the door of the Queens suite with the gifts whilst she retreated down the hall, to wait for Helena, of whom she was rather protective, it was a big court after all...

((For the sake of nostalgia I saved Eternal's Avatars for the characters still in use...))

I nervously drummed the wooden windowledge inside my coach, waiting rather impatiently for the coachman to get a move on fixing the left wheel. Undoubtedly I was already too late, probably by days already. God only knows what had taken place at the Palace in those few days without my heroic presence. Trust my luck for matters like these to spring up in the most unfortuous of circumstances. Oh, damn it all. An extra zealous tap of my hand caused the wooden strip to dislodge itself, falling to the floor with a clatter. Sacrebleu, I cursed silently, picking up the rotten wood and superficially holding it back to it's original place, as if in hope it would perhaps secrete glue and repair itself.

"Zut, Monsieur. You break it, you pay for it." said the coachman's head, appearing in the opposite window.
"Comte," I mumbled under my breath. "It's Comte, not Monsieur."
Clearly the scruff had no regard for respect or manners. I waved him off. There was no time for menial matters like this, and if his carriage was as rotten as the dead, that was his problem. I had serious business at the palace. Not that anyone would be expecting me to roll through the grand entrance; for all they knew, I was on a mission of intensive wine-tasting to find the perfect grape for my vineyard. Which was close to the truth, although my vineyard was ruined from the cold snap this winter and I had no money or time to invest into it's maintenance.
"S'no good, this won't fix," stated the fool, waving one arm towards the wheel which had evidentially snapped clean in two. "Yer'll have to go elsewhere. I can't do nothing for yer today; or yer can wait three days or so for me to get a new wheel."

I cocked an eyebrow, donning my most sinister and intimidating glare. "Are you suggesting that I impose upon myself an even greater degree of late-dom, when this morning I have an urgent appointment with Her Majesty, the Queen?" Well, that was a small white lie. I had no appointment, but was certain the Queen would be more than willing to create one once seeing I had returned. The peasant shrugged, dislodging a fat flea from behind his ear. "She'll have off with your head, you know. Mon Dieu, she will. It's been a few days since the last execution. It'll be a big public event, and we might even keep your head on a spike if we can get rid of the fleas."

With a grunt that sounded closer to a squeak of fear, the cretin made a slow movement towards one of the two horses. Undoing the straps that secured it to the carriage, he handed me the reins.
"Take 'im. But I'll be wanting him back before sunset or else... else I'll..."

I smiled courteously, accepting the reins from him and chirping a "Why thank you, peasant. Au revoir!" With a brief yet patronising wave, I dug my heels into the side of the old carthorse and left in a cloud of trailing dust. Most impressive, indeed.

The horse was harder to handle than at first expected. Most of the ponies I'd had experience with were usually well-trained pedigree specimens with mild tempers and docile nature, hand-picked for those qualities. But this brute.. It was stocky and muscular, and it's hair was coarse, ruddy and covered in dirt. And the beast had a complete mind of it's own, speeding up to an out-and-out gallop as it realised it had freedom from the coach. No matter how hard I tugged the reins, the horses head remained solid. "Whey! Steady boy!" I called in vain, in some attempt to soothe the savage. At least we were heading the right direction, I thought, as we careened along the street knocking over the market stalls and spilling vegetables all over. The palace gates were drawing ever closer; perhaps if I could skilfully swing from the speeding horse and land on both feet, it would impress any courtier spectators. But alas, once more my luck ran short. The horse suddenly came to a complete and abrupt halt, spotting a juicy cabbage roll past. Unfortunately, I did not lose momentum and found myself still flying through the air at breakneck speed, and the palace wall was coming up with equal enthusiasm. I prayed that it would be one of those impacts of the likes where you don't feel the pain until a long time afterwards. No such luck. The pain was immediate and severe, and a dozen little pinpricks of black blurred out my vision. My last thoughts were hoping I hadn't broken anything serious, like my nose. What a state I'd look turing up at the Palace with a nose like a drunken brawler. And then I fainted.

When I came to, it was to the most vile, obnoxious stench I'd experienced since that filthy one-legged prostitute in Belgium. In fear it was her again, I snapped my eyes open and they soon focused on the grey wiry hair of some old hag. Oh hell, where was I now? The hag retreated a little, grinning toothlessly and clutching a bottle of brown substance. Ah. Smelling salts. I suddenly realised what I was doing, and that I still was very much late, except now looking much more worse-for-wear. I picked myself up shakily, brain reeling trying to come up with a way to explain this one off to the court. "Step aside, peasants!" I shouted to the gaggle of onlookers. "I have an important duty at the Palace to take care of. Now, after finishing the testing of our palace defenses," - I patted the solid wall - "I can officially confirm that our palace is safe from intruders." I puffed my chest out, recollecting any scraps of dignity I had left, and strode away from the scene as best as I could. This proved to be somewhat harder than at first thought, as my leg must have somehow been damaged with the impact, and I seemed to have gained a limp. Zut alors, I'd return to the court not only horseless but also a cripple and a royal mess.

There was no way I could be expected to use the main entrance in my current state. The whole palace would undoubtedly see me, ask questions which I couldn't answer and still retain a modicum of respect amongst my peers, and I would generally be demoted to Palace Fool Number Two, alongside Claus the Clown. No, I could not go through the palace gates. I leaned against the sturdy wall, musing for a few minutes, when the thought hit me like a courtier being thrown off a rogue horse. Myself of all people should know of 'alternative' routes into the Palace - had I not instructed various women to use them, almost every night since I became a Comte? Yes, the palace was riddled with secret entrances and tunnels, the nearest of which was only fifty feet or so from where I stood. I limped along the wall until I came to the gargoyle sculputre with three eyes, then took twenty steps outwards until I was amidst a coppice of trees. Between the two yews, there was a patch of ground which was slightly risen compared to that around it. I felt around amongst the leaves for a rusty ring of iron; grasping it, I gave it a tug and the trapdoor came open releasing a cloud of dirt. After a short coughing fit, I waved the dirt aside and climbed into the hole. Of course, it was only when I got down there did I realise how dark the tunnel was. Cursing, I fished around my ruined outfit for a tinderbox of some sort. Alas, I wasn't one for arson so never had that object on my person. I would have to proceed in complete darkness.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the occasional crunch underfoot and the constant scuttling in the background. Perhaps it was better to be dark; that way I wouldn't see what company I had, and the palace would never learn of my irrational fear of spiders. The tunnel felt as though it was getting endlessly deeper, and it showed no signs of rising again. To my knowledge the tunnel didn't exit in the cellar, but behind an ugly tapestry of some late monarch on the ground floor. I kept on, noting how damp and putrid-smelling the tunnel actually was. And I'd forced young women to use this tunnel often? No matter, they were only prostitutes. Eventually, my eyes picked up the first few rays of dim light creeping around the edge of the tapestry ahead. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, rushing to get out of the spider-ridden tunnel but hesitating just before I pushed the tapestry aside. Anyone could be strolling past, and what would they think to see a bedraggled, barely-recognisable fool stepping foot in the palace? They'd call the guards and have me executed, that's what. I laid wait for a few minutes, listening carefully for footsteps. None came, so I slipped out from the darkness into blessed morning light. I took a few moments to revel in the cleanliness of the palace around me, before sprinting as best as I could with my leg injury up the staircase to find my suite. All I could hope for was no room changes in my absence; it would be most humiliating to walk in upon someone else and expose myself looking in such a state. I could see the door to my suite now, and there was nobody else around - I had made it! Lady Luck had finally taken my side for once on this damned day!

"Well, if it isn't Comte Felix.." came a voice behind me. Oh, merde...

((Whew! Oh I've missed my Felix. So, as you can see, Felix is very much approachable and that bit on the ends open right now for anyone to step in. He would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else you saw him looking like a peasant covered in dust and tunnel-slime Oh and can I still use Felix's application from the old thread? Or will I have to repost it again here?))

((OOC: What an amazing re-introduction Hay. It's going to be nice to have him around again! You can repost your app if you like, or leave it where it is. Either way I'll just link to it in the characters listing.))

*edit*

((OOC: Quick comment to those of you who have been with me from the beginning in the old thread. I do not know if I will be able to link to the posts of the old thread after HP archives it. So if you'd like your application available, please post a "re"app in this thread, and I will change the links as needed. Thanks!))

((OOC: Nice picture Swirly. Just a little note... if you look at the Palace Maps (post 2 ) Lilian is on the bottom floor, so she'd have to go "up" to visit Isabella.

Usually someone would be a fool to go to Isabella's Suite without an invitation, but luckily for Lilian she has her title to protect her. I will work on an RP and add it to this post shortly.))

*edit*
((As promised....))

Once inside the safety of her suite Isabella ordered a brunch brought up to her. She had taken her usual thinking spot by the northern window, looking out over the forest. The trees were a picture of death, their branches standing tall with no foliage to dress them. They looked like scrawny skeletons… Much like Adalita.

The thought had snuck into her mind, a most unwelcomed intruder. Isabella recalled how beautiful they had been with their hues of red and gold when she had found herself lost. When Octavien had rescued her. Not only had he rescued her from the humiliation of being lost in her own forest, but shortly after he rescued her from the golden cage of her crown, from lonely nights, and she had though from a lonely life. A smile snuck its way on her face, just as stealthily as the horrendous thought had earlier. She closed her eyes, images of him donning his mischievous grin replaying in her mind.

As she leaned against the wall, her thoughts were soon interrupted by a knock on the door. Isabella turned her head immediately wishing to see who it was. Had Octavien been able to put his mind to rest during the night? He had said that they’d talk later, rather than he wished not to talk to her at all. Her gut said he would seek her out, he just had to.

As the doors entered, she saw two servant girls, one of who didn’t look the slightest familiar. And that meant something as nearly all the servant girls looked identical to her. Isabella’s own servants took the beautifully decorated vases from the girls. “A gift, for her Royal Highness.” They announced.

Isabella’s eyes sparkled once again. The assortment of pink and white roses were absolutely breathtaking, so soft and delicate. The vase they were in, and its accompanying urn managed to not be outshone by the beautiful bouquet. The gift was truly marvelous. Her heart leaped at the possibility of them being from Octavien, however her head chided her for such presumptions. He had had no time since they bitterly parted ways last night to purchase such an extravagant gift. Logic stated that it simply couldn’t be from him. So who were they from then?

She reached for the note that accompanied the gift, she opened it gingerly and eagerly read its contents. As her previous smile faded, giving way to a much different one she looked at the gift with new eyes. The Baroness had chosen a vase to replace the one she broke, however this one was most obviously created with Isabella in mind. In a way the gift had been Baroness Flight’s way of acknowledging that Isabella was the current Queen, the one before her no longer mattered.

Isabella leaned in one more time to take in the glorious scent of the blossoms when there was another knock on the door. As a servant girl made her way to reveal who it was, the woman on the other side began speaking. “Your Majesty?” Her voice sounded as if something was wrong. “M-might I be able to discuss something with you?'

The doors then opened to reveal Princess Lilian standing at the door way. Isabella’s eyes blinked and her face bore a serious expression as she was most surprised to see her. “Princess Whitman”, she addressed the girl as she began to walk towards her. “Are you alright?”

(( Oh, sorry! *headdesk* Yeah, I actually paused for a bit and wondered whether or not to send Lilian to the suite, but in the end was kinda 'Hey, she's a Princess, go crazy!' Hehe <=) ))

Name: Valary DiBendetto
Title: Baroness
Age: 19
Bio: Valary was blessed with good looks, not that she cared. Her attitude towards life is somewhat pessimistic, but underneath the sharp look, sharp tougne and possibly harsh personality is a young woman who believes being tough and sharp is the way to live in the world. Preferring the company of the black stallion she once had before her father went bankrupt, Valary is determined not to follow the ways of her father who wanted nothing but money, and make a name for herself at Court, whatever way she can.
Picture:

Name: Mercy Flight
Age:
Title: Court Gossip - Baroness
Personality: "What can I say? Life is life and other peoples are so much more interesting. I can be sworn to secrecy... if we're friends or if there is something in it for me."
Mercy is very loud and insists it is the public's right to know, this point of view may have come from her deceased husbands constant affairs that she knew nothing of until his funeral. She at the moment lacks good friends, which she craves this makes her an excellent target for flattery, or occasional bribery.
Picture: (The magnificent Dame Judy Dench)

The Queen's expression troubled Lilian, but she could not turn back now.
The Princess curtsied, her jet black hair tumbling over her right shoulder.
“Princess Whitman”, she addressed the girl as she began to walk towards her. “Are you alright?”
'Oh, yes, I am most content, you are most gracious hostess' She replied softly, a hint of nerves about her voice 'Though, I was wondering if I might prey upon your kindly nature. I- I must face reality, I can no longer run away from the grief, I must stop at some point'
She took a deep breath and fluttered her eyelids.
'I...I thought that perhaps...I might...stay in this court, not as a visitor...but as a member of the household?'
'B-but if not' She added, flustered 'Do not worry, not at all...I mean, of course, I am being rather foward, I can assure you I will not be insulted in the slightest if you decline'

Name: Octavien Lahance

Age: 21

Title: Untitled, to Comte, to Prince

Personality:
Octavien was a young man with a hunger for nothing more than fun and adventure. Unfortunately, this lead to quite a few precarious situations, and after having been seen leaving the bedroom of one too many married women, his parents sent him away from home, to the court, in the hopes of having him discover that there's more to life than just having "fun". And he did. He discovered power, and the perks of having friends in high places. Now he has his mind set on earning a title, one way or another, and although still a carefree thrill-seeker, he can also be a cunning, ambitious trickster. He's watching the aristocrats and learning what he can from them. And the higher the title, the bigger his interest. Thus, he has taken a special interest in the Queen herself.

Picture:



And one and two more, just because. :P

Valary's eyes fluttered open. Her room was cold, no doubt because she had left the window open during the night. She pushed back to covers of her bed, and swung her legs out, barely registering the dull thump her feet made as they hit the floor. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She wasn't going to miss morning announcements.

--------------------------

Valary watched as the Royal Family departed, mulling over what she had just heard. She hadn't been at Court long enough to really know Baroness Flight, but she knew who the Princess was, and felt slightly worried at her lack of health. Normally, she would not have cared, but something made her worry about the woman. She shook it from her head, and began to walk out of the Salon, the usually stony face of hers strangely thoughtful. A few strands of her hair were beginning to fall from their carefully prepared style, but she brushed them away impatiently, barely feeling them as her pale hand swept them into place. She stopped near a window, and looked out. The Palace grounds looked dead. The trees were nothing more than withered skeletons, shadows of their previous blooming form. The wind whistled angrily outside, and she turned away, careful not to trip on her long dress. She looked into the black folds, and lost herself in them, too lost in thought to notice anything around her.

((Approachable. And a little rambly from an unexperianced RPer, but hopefully I'll get better))

((OOC: A quick note to those who are around. "Baroness Valary" is no longer part of this RP. So please don't have your characters approach her, as she will not be able to reply.

Sorry Fayreview! I'm a bit late for Mercy's sake. :doh ))

((Well that's why pencils have erasers, and posts have delete options ))

(Sorry about the hair x.x Forgot to download some relevant ones before taking the piccitures .. xP)

((OOC: Wow funheart Roseline looks like a whole new sim!))

“Oh, yes. I am most content, you are a most gracious hostess.” The seemingly delicate woman replied. Isabella’s face then immediately switched from an expression of concern to an expression of curiosity. What did this visitor want, and why did she seem so fragile compared to the other day?

“Though, I was wondering if I might prey upon your kindly nature.” The woman’s choice of words brought a new feeling upon Isabella. It was one she wasn’t used to. If someone desired something of her, they usually had their subtle ways of hinting at it. It seemed the Princess was going to bluntly ask for it. No one had been so bold to do that since her meeting with Duc Silvius, and that hadn't turned out so well. But what could Isabella possibly grant Lilian that she did not already have? “I… I must face reality, I can no longer run away from my grief. I must stop at some point.”

As the woman took a deep breath Isabella continued to listen intently. She soon believed Lilian’s apparent nerves were caused by a hurt she had been hiding. Not so much unlike a certain queen she knew. “I… I thought that perhaps I might stay in this court,” she continued. “Not as a visitor, but as a member of the household?”

A slight smile came to Isabella’s features. It wasn’t necessarily cordial or comforting, it was the sort of smile she got when reminded of her position of power. “… I can assure you I will not be insulted in the slightest if you decline.” Lilian quickly added.

Isabella turned and began to slowly pace away from the doors, her delicate fingers tapping at her waist as she thought. The young Princess wished to stay in Isabella's kingdom, and not return to her own. Perhaps what she truly sought was a new life, one that did not remind her of the tragic accident her fiancé had died as a result of. What the woman really wanted was a new life, a new identity… a new title?

Having paced three yards or so from the Princess who stood just inside the doorway, Isabella turned, her answer had been prepared. “With his daughter in such a horrid state, I am afraid the King is not in his typical condition. But, I do think once the Princess has recuperated, perhaps I can mention it to him. I don’t see any reason why he would object.”

She smiled at the Princess Lillian, this time with a smile shining with satisfaction. This Princess had some odd ways about her, though it seemed she was smart. After all, she knew who to approach when she needed something accomplished, a fact that showed she knew who truly ruled the kingdom.

((OOC: Fay... sorry if Mercy takes insult to my last sentence. lol What can I say... each of our girls "owns" the kingdom. ))

*edit*
((Welcome littlesunshine!))

*edit 2*
Oh!! Someone please spot Felix!! (Isabella would... but alas... she's busy.))

((Shenan I'm too tired to even think about what Mercy thinks...What can I say recent events have made me wonder about my part here at S2C... But I'm sure Mercy wouldn't begrudge Isabella her 'dellusions' ))

Fleur sat quiety at her open window. She softly combed her long curls as she gazed out of the window. There was a gentle breeze that hit her flushed cheeks. She day dreamed there was a world of excitement and passion outside that window. With freedom and happiness that she never knew. She sighed thinking of how delightful a life of adventure would be. Her dream was interuppted by a gentle knock at her bedroom door. Fleur lifted herself slowly from her chair and made her way to the door. Slowly opening the door, with curiousty across her pretty face. "A letter for you Miss" a servant said to her at the door, handing over a letter address to Fleur. "Thank you" Fleur replied and stepped back into her room.

She sat at her dressing table, carefully opening the letter. The letter was in small neat handwriting, it was unmistakebly her husbands Charles writing. She should have known. She would never recieve a letter of important or interest to her.
Fleur sighed boredly as she read the letter.

Mi fleur más querido ha sido tres semanas desde que i escribió por último. Usted no contestó a mi letra pasada. Fui preocupado. Cómo puede la confianza de I usted si usted no hace mientras que le digo. Espero que usted sea bien y que se comporta como usted debe. Conteste por favor a mi letra ESTE VEZ, yo se preocupan más de usted. Su marido Charles

Fleur frowned at the letter and ripped it up. She would not reply back, not yet anyway. She would let him worry a little longer. Still angry Fleur left her bedroom. She walked the highly decorated corridors, fanning herself along the way and smiling at passes by.

(approachable)

(((ooc: Sorry it's taken me a while. Now I know what this 'real life' that everyone is always referring to actually is.

funheart - Aw, she's so pretty. )))



The Prince that appeared by the King's side this morning, to await the Queen by the grand staircase on the upper floor, was clearly a young man with a burden that weighed heavily on his noble shoulders. He was tired, yes, that much even a fool amongst fools could see, but what was more was that a small crease had formed between his fair eyebrows, looking as though it had been literally etched into the features that so rarely donned signs of anything but cordiality, attentiveness and dignity. The usual light in his eyes seemed to have been dimmed. It was evident that something was bothering him. Most were sure to attribute it to worry about his 'beloved' wife, whose health had been rapidly dwindling during the night, including the King. Only two knew better - that there was far more to the story than that, that it wasn't even the biggest concern on the mind of the young Prince - and only one of them was someone who he could bring himself to look in the eye. When Isabella left her suite and joined them, Octavien's gaze had grown quite attached to one of the many marble statues decorating the large hall in which he and the King had stood waiting. He was not yet ready for their eyes to meet, and for their silent communication to to commence. There were things he longed to say, but they were words meant for his lips, not mere glances to be given whenever a random opportunity presented itself. He did, however, manage to tear his gaze away from the statue just long enough for it to land on the floor just infront of Isabella, while he offered the slight, courteous bow that was expected of him.

Trailing after his mother- and father-in-law, down the grand staircase and into the Grand Salon, Octavien barely listened to what the King had to say for his morning announcement. He was quite preoccupied with his own thoughts. Given last night's disaster, he had realized that he would have to protect himself, and Isabella, from the detestable brute that threatened their safety, and their... 'friendship'. In doing so, he would have to use a language that the man could understand. And he knew just what language that would be.

Upon returning to his suite, he wasted no time. Time was of the essence, as he wasn't quite sure how serious the Marquess had been about his threats. Perhaps he was already on his way to request an audience with the King, or perhaps he was taking his time, to make the Queen and the new Prince sweat. Octavien hadn't looked for him among the courtiers that had attended the morning announcement, but he was sure he'd been there. After the pleasure he had taken in offending and insulting Isabella and Octavien both last night, Octavien couldn't imagine that he'd pass up the chance of trying to see what damage he might've done, nor did he doubt that the Marquess was the kind of man that would toy with his enemies for a bit before he struck.
Thus, Octavien went straight from the doors to the desk, where he sat down to compse a brief note.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Marquess Berini,

It appears we got off on the wrong foot. With your permission, I would like for us to start over, as I do believe setting aside our differences could prove most beneficial to both parties. Please find me in my suite at your earliest convenience so that we may discuss the matter further.

Cordialement,
Prince Octavien Lahance

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Keeping the note polite and devoid of the proper royal tone was pure torture, but in order to keep from provoking the reptile known as Marquess Berini, Octavien thought it best not to sound too demanding.
Let the man think he was grovelling.

"Gilles!" he called as he picked up the small piece of paper and waved it a little bit so that the ink would dry before he folded it once and handed it to the servant that moved swiftly to stand by his side. "Have this note delieved to Marquess Berini's suite immediately."

"Immediately, Your Highness", Gilles confirmed, and then quickly left the suite to carry out the order.

'Alea iacta est'.
No more than half an hour later, there was a firm knock on the door, and Gilles, who by now had returned to his master's suite, declared that the Prince had a visitor. Having waited on the bed, leaning back against the many and soft pillows, and reading a book to pass the time, Octavien smirked to himself.

"Please send him in", he said and snapped the book shut as he stood, leaving it on the bed to greet his guest over by the comfortable armchairs and the beautifully carved table that were all placed in the centre of his suite.

With a deep bow, Gilles retreated from the door to allow the visitor to pass, and in strolled a nothing short of nonchalant Marquess Berini; tall, dark, and wearing a smirk matching the one that only seconds earlier had curved Octavien's lips. Now, however, it was gone, replaced by a faint but polite smile, with just a hint of agitation. A move most intentional on Octavien's part. As long as the Marquess thought Octavien was ill at ease, he would feel like he was in control, and thus see no reason to be overly rude or threatening.

"Marquess Berini", Octavien said. "Thank you for accepting my invitation. Please, take a seat."

And as the two men sat down to talk, Gilles closed the doors to the suite, cutting of the soft murmer of their voices to anyone that might happen to pass through the upper floor hallway.


(((ooc: Needless to say, he's not approachable at this time.)))

"Well, if it isn't Comte Felix.." Mercy laughed lightly. "I must say I am suprised to see you looking like this my dear Comte... But it is nice to have you back, at least I assume your staying because no one with a title like yours would return looking like that for a flying visit." She winked at the young man, taking a brief break from class boundaries afterall he could hardly object in these circumstances.

"Now how have you been in the time since you left us?" Mercy enquired of the young man, she had never known him well but she felt that was more of an over-sight on her part that more than anything else, after all he was, usually, an attractive and well presented man, she looked him up and down, even dressed like that he still looked good, in fact she had never seen dust and micellanious fluids made to look so good....

((Wow, Mercy ran away with me there.... Dare I say hopeless crush forming ))