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La Rosa d'Ebano Grand Opening!

Come one and all to the grand opening of the new venue nestled within Reflection Square! Lord Tessere invites you to feast upon the exquisite cuisine that Iriscal has to offer, brought humbly to the Lyceum Ward of Arx. Festitives will be held in the stunning grand ballroom of La Rosa for dancing and mingling

Date

Feb. 20, 2021, 9 p.m.

Hosted By

Yuri

Participants

Scylla Tyche Gabriella Bianca Alessia Lianne Thea Keely Apollo Leonel Romulius Nurie Medeia Natasha Reve Azova Baelos Aedric

Organizations

Location

Arx - Ward of the Lyceum - La Rosa d'Ebano - Grand Ballroom

Largesse Level

Grand

Comments and Log


It is to the full-service bar that Scylla has gravitated, naturally, and a glass of rum is already held aloft in her right hand. Pewter eyes rest upon the entry doors to the ballroom, studying each individual guest as they filter through individually or in groups. It is time to start mingling, then! Lips part to feel the cool press of glass against the lower in taking a brief first sip of her favorite spiced rum, and when the satisfying burn of alcohol runs down her throat, she sighs with relief. "Marquessa Tyche," the scarred woman begins as she pushes off from the bar top and lopes forward to properly address the one she named, "Very glad you could make it. Lord Yuri will be thrilled." Their newfound conversational closeness grants her the opportunity to speak at normal volumes, no longer straining to be heard over the din of the music and various conversations. More ladies enter through the doors, mostly unfamiliar, but that does not diminish her enthusiastic smile as she turns to greet them in kind. "Good evening, welcome."

Natasha arrives, following Romulius.

Fajra arrives, following Lianne.

Siri, an attentive apprentice, Paris, a charming mercenary, Lianne arrive, following Apollo.

Finn the large Northern hunting dog with icy blue eyes, Rocco, the rascally assistant arrive, following Thea.

2 House Velenosa Guards arrives, following Leonel.

Sir Alren, Scholar Duran, a perpetually put-upon assistant, 5 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Bianca.

Thea has joined the cushion-covered seating.

The Marquessa of Caina was fashionably early, and her escort fashionably late, but she sweeps in alone at first! And this makes her an easy target for the newly-minted Baroness, and her lips curve upward in a warm smile. "Baroness Scylla Stormblood," she makes a point of drawing out the title, no tease to her tone, only admiration. "When I heard about your return to the ranks, I meant to send word. But you know how the world works," she cuts a gloved hand through the air, indicating the nature of a busy life. "How does your island suit you?" She leans in, then, to share a little secret, "And I would not miss this. Lord Yuri gifted Prince Leonel and myself with a few jars of his home's pasta sauce, and I cannot resist. Do not tell him I'm only here for the food." When she straightens, she spies Leonel coming to join her, and her smile widens. "Get lost, your highness?"

Even though one can manage to get Gabriella out of her armor, her movements still bear the rigidness of a soldier as she walks into the ballroom. The Princess is quick to scan the room, gravitating toward some of the more familiar faces there. "Ready to see my newest strategy for events like this?" She asks Tyche, as she approaches to join the sofa, bidding her time to wave at those nearby.

Bianca slipped into the grand ballroom, her eyes lifting to take in the lay of the room as well as the occupants that inhabited it. Her guardsmen had been left in the main hall rather than clanking through the event in a cacophony of scraping metal and thunking boots, blessedly granting the holy woman a bit of respite from their perpetual vigil. Long strides carried her about the periphery of the event until her small smile found its way in distant greeting to Thea. Tyche and Leonel both received their own nods as well, but she continued on toward the Malvici and the cushioned area.

Gabriella has joined the a set of luxurious sofas.

As she passes through the double doors to the elegant ballroom, Alessia seems taken by the opulence within, pausing for a moment to fully absorb it. Her brows rise at the sight of the mirrored bar counter and that is the direction she walks, naturally, admiring the room as she walks. She lifts a hand on the way to give Tyche a warm greeting. "It's a delight to see you!" She calls out.

Attending her second event of the evening, Marquessa Lianne Malespero arrives on the arm of a different gentleman than the last, though Apollo's just as dark-haired and handsome as her previous escort. Well-dressed, too, though it hues which match her own a bit more reliably, both of them tending toward blacks and muted notes. The most colorful thing upon Lianne, really, is the glass of red wine she snagged on her way in. Though she tilts toward the Whisper at her side to murmur softly as they drift in, she offers smiles to familiar faces, to Bianca and Alessia, Tyche and Scylla. A good crowd, it seems.

Thea has been on time. Not early, not late. Just on time. Grabbing a drink on her way, she goes has takes a seat, making herself comfortable. Seeing Alessia, Thea gives her slight wave. "Lessi, it's good to see you,"a smile appearing. As Bianca makes her way over, the Malvici is already scooting over,"Mother Bianca. Good to see you,"she greets.

Klavdiya, who is definitely a handmaiden and not a pirate, Fluffy, the wary wildcat, 2 Eswynd shieldbearers, Loryk, a cocky but amiable reaver arrive, following Medeia.

Keely slips into the ballroom, taking a deep breath and visibly forcing her back straight, her shoulders square. Still, there's an uncertainty in the way she looks around, a hesitation in the moment she takes to decide where to go next. Not spotting anyone immediately familiar to her, she opts for the bar, to get a drink and her bearings, before going any further.

Keely has joined the mirrored bar counter with high-back, cushioned stools.

Bianca paused her step upon hearing Alessia's call across toward Tyche, the sound drawing the Legate's attention aside briefly with it's familiarity -- and there was a Lianne as well! A nod was granted in the ladies' direction along with a touch of a broader smile for Lianne which scaled the breadth of her usual demure repose. As Thea scooched, she slipped to seat herself beside her. "Blessed be. How was the Ball of Hawks? I was so disappointed my schedule denied me attendance."

"Oh do tell," Tyche trills to Gabriella as if the woman holds some great secret to how to navigate social events. "Is it to become the center of attention and win endless adoration and acclaim?" she wonders playfully, her dark eyes taking in the Pravus princess and her much more relaxed attire. "You look ready to celebrate such a grand opening, at the very least!" She notes Bianca's entrance, the white-haired woman hard to miss, and her gloved hand lifts to waggle fingers. And then to Alessia, she turns, both brows lifting. "And this time we do not match, Lady Alessia! The stars did not align for us today." Another smile for Lianne, and Apollo, and... all the familiar faces everywhere! "How please Lord Yuri must be by this turnout," she muses.

Apollo is escorting properly in fact, an elbow on offer, and when Lianne tilts to murmur to him, quietly attendant. Though quieted, he does offer a slight smile, sidelong, to her, a murmur of what is apparently acceptance or agreement, a few hushed words in response. He scans the room, offering the same muted greeting - a smile, mostly in the eyes - to anyone whose attention tips his way.

"No, I'm precisely where I intended to be /exactly/ when I intended to be there. Also," A drink had found its way into Leonel's hand at some point during his merry jaunt -- or woefully lost meandering -- and a quick sip was indulged before he continued, " ..I was looking for Lord Yuri to offer my congrulations, and things of that nature. He's a bit elusive at present in the sea of faces so I s'pose it'll wait." One individual in particular caught his attention and though he delivered both a return pitch of his crown forward and a lift of his glass belatedly, Bianca's greeting hadn't gone unnoticed. In the wake of it Leone's eyes cut a glance in Scylla's way and she, too, had a prime view of the prince's scalp as his head respectfully bowed. "It's been too long and I hear you're doing very well for yourself these days, Baroness Stormblood." His smile stretched onward for ages and dug into his cheeks, holding fast for a time. "Lovely to see you again -- and without my brother on your arm. What's he keeping himself busy with tonight that he couldn't accompany you?"

Lord Tessere emerged from stage-right as the clamor of the musicians rose to a spectacle of an entrance; the notable proprietor had arrived. Yuri chuckled lightly at the fanfare, motioning with his hands to the lead player as the musicians quieted. He turned along to the guests, giving a formal bow as he clasped his hand together, "I pray, this shall be brief, ladies and gentlemen. I want to issue forth a sincere thank you for joining together at La Rosa this day! The conception of La Rosa was something I could not have done without support of fond friends, to which I would have never mustered the wearwithal to attempt! I humbly bring to you, and all of Arx, a taste of the south and the comforts my home. It stands as a beacon to all to gather treasured moments and make fond memories, as well as delight in eclectic meals that our staff have prepared today, in a small variety, for your palette's pleasure! I do hope you enjoy your stay and enough with me! Onward! Welcome to La Rosa d'Ebano!" The musicians roused again at the coda of words the lord had uttered, continuing in a spirited fanfare to invite festivity again. Yuri took a short hop from the stage to the dance floor, summarily flagging down a server for a wine glass as he made to approach the guests.

Carolina, an orphan from Bravura leaves, following Lore.

If nothing else, Romulius Blackshore's attire could be described as suitable for a lord of the Mourning Isles. It's not quite as dour as the plate armor that the Sword of New Hope can almost always be found in, but carries all of his usual taste for a monochromatic palette and practicality. A black overcoat serves to cover most of his broad frame, straps and buckles keeping its fit secure, high collar hiding the whole of his throat and lending to a rather severe appearance. Color comes only in the way of a silvered band about his wrist that occasionally flashes from beneath his garb's thick cuffs, a line of stones adorning it - half of them hued a near-perfect match for the distinct cerulean gaze that serve as a mark of his lineage.

His entry to the ballroom is accompanied by Princess Natasha Thrax, his childhood friend apparently being served escort by the Blackshore for the evening. There's a murmur offered down to her - she is a tall woman, and only heightened by the snakeskin boots she wears, but still finds herself dwarfed by her companion's larger frame - before his eyes sweep the chamber for familiar faces. One in particular, it seems, as he makes towards the evening's host. "Lord Tessere - it's a pleasure to see you. I trust you remember the Princess Natasha?" A gesture is made towards the Thraxian magistrate on his arm as he offers an apologetic smile to Yuri. "You'll forgive, I hope, that I've yet to reach out to arrange our lunch and spar. I assure you that I've not forgotten - duty has simply managed to swallow me whole, this week. I do look forward to sampling Iriscal's finest."

Bianca has joined the cushion-covered seating.

Nurie mingles at the edges of the crowd, dark eyes drifting to the decor, and delighting more in the peoplewatching especially as guests first come in. She does have a drink in hand, though at the moment is is quite full. When Yuri draws the gathering's attention, she listens with a smile that lights her eyes, lifting her glass in salute.

Arriving unusually late, Medeia hurries into the ballroom and quickly slows her pace once through the doors. She has clearly come dressed for the occasion in a dress that is nearly fully covered in black roses made from satin and lace, with hints of red peeking through. She managed to catch the last half of Yuri's speech and purposefully strides toward him as he collects his wine glass. "Yuri, dear, this is all amazing, of course." Leaning in to give their traditional cheek kiss greeting, she says something more quietly to him before settling herself upon his arm at his side with a smile.

A breath of a laugh escapes Tyche at Leonel's smooth excuse for his small delay. "The perfect response, which I believe completely." She watches him sip his drink, and then with bold fingers ready to wrestle the wine from his own if she must, she reaches out to steal his cup so that she might indulge. There's a cheeky familiarity to the move, and after the sip is stolen, she returns it to him. When Yuri speaks, the petite redhead looks to the young lord, a flash of pride for the man's accomplishments made. "Cheers to Lord Yuri. The place has never looked better," she remarks with wicked amusement, knowing very well the grounds she stands on. "And I will not regale you with all of the mischief that used to occur within these walls."

"That we don't." Alessia says with a rueful smile, glancing down at her honeysilk outfit. "Perhaps next time. I figured gold was my color today. I couldn't say why." She settles down at the bar, pausing to throw waves Thea and Lianne's way. "A... whiskey please." She decides after some deliberation.

Thea spies Natasha, Natasha, and Romulius and well--she offers an amused grin. "I swear I've seen you all recently,"her gold-flecked green eyes lit with mischief. When Apollo makes his way in, she greets him as well, her eyes still as bright,"I have something for you to try at some point. As promised." When Medeia makes her way in, Thea waves to her too. So many people. Again. Turn to talk to Bianca, she answers her,"It was well attended. I'm sure we'll be having something else again. Soon. A family dinner of some sort. You'll be more than welcome to attend,"she assures. "I haven't seen you since--well, that time,"she says with amusement.

"I was discussing the other day with Lord Orland that I should arm wrestle others for secrets." Gabriella reveals to Tyche, keeping a small tug at the corner of her lips. "That way, I'm still playing to my strengths, but it should be easier to mingle." She adds, following her sentence with a sigh. "I feel rather bare, but as long as I keep Gluttony with me, I know I'll be safe." She comments, taking note of the drink ordered and nodding in agreement, "I'll also go for the whiskey." She settles, saluting briefly to the other woman as means of introduction, "Princess Gabriella Pravus."

When Prince Leonel strides forward to stand beside the Inverno marquessa, Scylla affords him a respectful curtsy. "Your highness. A pleasure to see you again, and thank you. I am not sure where your brother is, actually. Tonight, I'm here to make sure everything goes well for my dear friend, Yuri, so perhaps it's for the best I'm free to wander a little." A wry smile accompanies her latter words. Yes, it is a relatively brief greeting, but his date has just made it a point to inquire after her new position, which demands that she bat it away passively with a wave of the hand not occupied by a full glass of rum. "It's...seen better days. Angry, scared citizens, low food stores, and no boats, which is probably not conducive to island living. And don't worry at all about the missed letter, my lady. Truth be told, I've been too busy to read half of the ones I've received, anyway." Marquessa Lianne receives a wave, then Princess Natasha on the arm of Lord Romulius, naturally. Bother Bianca is afforded a simplistic, but respectful inclination of her head, and that's when Lord Yuri's voice lifts above the mixed vocalizations to welcome everyone. Her glass is raised in a toast to him, pairing well with Tyche's verbalized cheers.

One can't be faulted for believing that the High Lord of Maelstrom's only sister and sibling might have developed a specific allergy towards social events with how rarely she ever attends them, ever content with her cases and mysteries, or whatever cogs of infinite machinations that keep spinning within a fealty in the brink of a civil war, but Natasha Thrax's presence in La Rosa is either a ringing endorsement or definitive testament to the idea that Yuri Tessere may have more charm and congeniality than he has a right to bear, however softened by femininity interjected within her blood by the more mysterious side of her parentage. While it might be *too* much to expect that she divest herself of her spartan threads entirely, she has made an effort this evening to keep her promise to another - her gown is more elaborate this evening, spun out of sea-touched wool that spills in a cascade of amethystine and silver threads, dotted occasionally by crystal snowflakes. Ostensibly *not* something that she would have picked out herself, but one that fits her very well and even keeps her preferences for long sleeves and high collars in mind, making the most out of her sleek and sharply elegant lines and the imperious high set of flawless, alabaster cheekbones.

Eyes as dark and lit like embers sweep across the venue, curiosity present on her features at the decor. She has yet to visit anywhere in the Saffron Chain and she takes her first taste of the culture here, but she shelves her curiosity at the soft murmur from Romulius, a smile angled his way, before she dips her head towards Yuri. "I certainly hope so," she greets, once re-introduced. "We met at the Lady Medeia Eswynd's sparring event, not too long ago. La Rosa looks spectacular, my lord, and I'm looking forward to the lunch and spar, also." The sight of familiar faces threatens to broaden her smile, fingers lifting towards Scylla, Thea, and Lianne and Apollo.

As Yuri begins his short speech, Keely turns back from the bar, wine now in hand, and listens with intent interest. As the music starts, she can't help but tap her fingers against her glass to the beat, nodding a shy hello to those who approach the bar, but not yet brave enough to dive into the mingling.

Orion, a healer's surly Assistant, 2 Redoubt Buccaneers arrive, following Azova.

Azova arrives, following Reve.

Yuri sifted his away along to the esteemed guests, meeting Medeia rather head-on as he greeted her in such a friendly manner though keeping that hallmarked Lycene greeting from cheek to cheek. His eyes cut away to Romulius and Natasha, offering a respectful bow to each of them as a leisurely smile plastered to his face, "Oh, of course I do. How are you, your Highness? Thank you for attendance. Oh, do trust me as well, Lord Blackshore, I have not forgotten either. Though, this past week had been a rather whirlwind of a time ensuring all was set for the evening. You will have to forgive me profusely, though, perhaps delight in the evening as a precursor to come?" His brow rose at Tyche's interjection as his stared with an open mouth, before clearing his throat, "Marquessa Inverno! Well...I am sure I shall keep the sanctity of such times rightfully fit amongst the walls for no secrets shall dwell without of them." His eyes settled along Scylla pointedly, giving raise of his glass. Wandering eyes sought out Nurie with a tender smile, another toast of his glass from across the room before his gaze had fallen on Legate Bianca with a surprised perk of his brow. She received another smile, followed but a reverent bow and a toast of his glass.

Lianne's smile warms for whatever Apollo offers in soft response, a nod marking her own agreement with something before they're veering off a little so that he might snag a glass of white wine for himself. Convenient that they both have glasses to lift at the conclusion of Yuri's speech. It is then, toward the host that she turns them, though it might be entirely coincidental given that half of everybody else is over there at the moment. More than antyhing else, it might be the pull of that wave from Natasha tugging her in that way. "Lady Medeia, always a pleasure," is accompanied with a nod. "Lord Yuri, a delight to see what you've built. I look forward to exploring the evening's offerings. And Marquessa Tyche, you look stunning tonight." Brows arch as she looks to the familiar Inquisitor, addressing, "Princess Natasha and her fine dancing partner. Whose lead are we following this evening?"

Bianca reached to give Thea's shoulder a small pat. "Things are still moving along that other front, yes? And oh, yes I would love to attend another Malvici dinner. It's been too long since Eirene has drunk me under the table." A slithering breath was slowly exhaled, pallid silver of moonlit irises drifting again as she seemed to relax a touch now that she was in the comfortable company of Thea. It was within this brief divide of her attention that Yuri's gaze was matched and he received a warm smile along with a low and gracious dip of her chin, but rather than distract the host she summoned a passing platter of wine to gather one for both herself and the Malvici beside her.

Medeia's hazel gaze sweeps the room from her spot at Yuri's side, returning Thea's wave, smile growing at the sight of Natasha and Romulius, and a... twitch of that smile, a flickering of emotion, that settles back into bright happiness when she spots Apollo and Lianne. There are so many familiar faces that she allows herself to be pulled along by Yuri, adding her polite greetings. "Marquessa Tyche, one of these days we will actually meet on purpose, hm?" Bianca gets a wave. And then she's replying to Lianne, warmth in her tone, "The pleasure is always mine, Marquessa Lianne. I should visit you, soon."

Apollo, accosted by Thea and her promises, simply lifts brows, smiles at her with as much of a bow as his escorting hold allows. "Lady Thea," he offers, "it will be a privilege." He gives an apologetic smile as - after the toast - he's tugged off toward others; he does his level best to make it look like not-tugging, and that mostly works. There's a deep breath, and then he greets - with a bow - "Lady Medeia." The greeting lands gently, a moment's pause taken before he turns toward Tyche and Natasha. "Marquessa, your highness. I hope you're both well this evening." There, about a third of that glass of white wine, suitable punctuation for the greetings.

There are those that might make a quiet sort of entry through those grand double doors of the ballroom and then there is Reve Halfshav. He moves through the threshold as though he owns the place, Lady Azova Darkwater on his arm as is typical for these sorts of events. He might be stepping in a practiced way so it gives the impression that she, too, is emitting confidence. There is a particular artform to that. "Oh, very lovely," he acknowledges, snaring a glass from a passing attendant and inhaling the aroma before passing it off to Azova like some fine prize. His gaze scans the crowd as he prowls onwards in search of those of House Tessere. So that he might make with the greetings.

Bob, the chartreuse parakeet arrives, following Baelos.

Bob, the chartreuse parakeet have been dismissed.

"There is nothing at all to forgive, my lord - your efforts have proven more than fruitful, from the look of the place. We'll not keep you long, though. Best of luck, it seems as though you've far more guests than just us to greet." With the appropriate greetings dispensed, Romulius makes to lead Natasha away from Yuri and his hosting duties. Medeia receives a warm smile and a dip of his head en route to the mirrored bar, "Lady Eswynd." Thea's comment earns a low chuckle and a half-shrug, white teeth flashing into a grin at her astute observation. Scylla's wave is returned in kind - so many familiar faces to greet, tonight, and he's surely missed plenty. On reaching the bar, eyes turn towards Natasha with a raised brow. "Will you be having your drink here, then, your Highness?"

Nurie claims a seat at the bar, after giving her cousin an impish wink, and taking a sip from her glass, seemingly content to have her reflection do the same in the mirrored surface. When her eyes catch sight of the Whisper and his escort, there's a wink for Apollo there too. Reve and Azova's entrance makes her courtly smile falter into a flash of a grin, and she offers a brief (if not very dignified) wave.

Nurie has joined the mirrored bar counter with high-back, cushioned stools.

"Then we will say I sent a letter, and it is in the stack you have waiting to read when times settle," Tyche lies easily, but all for the sake of some charming quip. Her expression softens from the playful, however, as she leans in to offer, "I know very well islands that are seemingly undesirable to most. If you need assistance, I would offer it. If you do not, feel free to cast me off as an overstepping southerner." She straightens just in time to hear her name being spoken, compliment attached. "Marquessa Lianne," she greets the woman with a smile, her gloved hands smoothing over brocade. "Thank you. And you look quite lovely as well." To Apollo she dips her chin, "Master Apollo. You look dashing as well. Not as much as your companion." She grins. And then Medeia is there, and the redhead laughs warmly, "Where's the fun of planned meetings, Lady Medeia? We have so much more fun in these impromptu adventures." And finally to Gabriella she notes, "If you challenge people to arm wrestling for secrets, I would lose in an instant. You would know my deepest darkest!" She shakes her head at that, and then sweeps a hand to Leonel, drawing him forward, "Has everyone met Prince Leonel Velenosa?" A sweeping introduction for a sweeping occasion!

Azova doesn't even have to be confident when she arrives anywhere with Reve, because he is confident enough for both of them. And a pair of body doubles if such a thing existed and were necessary. "Does it remind you of Iriscal?" she wonders, taking the time to look up and around as they arrive, with wide eyes apparently eager to learn more of the place he fostered in. Nurie is greeted with both a warm and excited smile of course, glass lifting toward her in lieu of a wave before she tries the vintage with a quick sip. It's not rum, but at least she doesn't make any faces about it.

"I have not." Alessia says with a warm smile, approaching Tyche again with her glass. "It's a pleasure to meet you, your highness. My husband, Donatello, may have mentioned you once or twice." She takes a sip. "Lady Alessia Mazetti." Her gaze drifts to Apollo. "Messere, it's lovely to see you. How have you been? Did you see Lady Adalyn?" Her mirth subsides when she says this.

1 Kennex corsairs, Wyatt, a large Kennex Laika Hound, Mary Lucennia, an alluring lady's companion leave, following Cecilia.

"A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness," Keely replies from the bar as Prince Leonel is introduced, in a voice probably too quiet to be heard over the music and din of conversation. But she's trying! She takes another small sip of her drink, eyes still watching intently on the crowd.

Thea nods her head to Bianca, telling her with a chuckle,"It is, yes. Sorry it's been taking so long. We were just here not long ago, actually. Having dinner." Seeing Apollo busy being all manly and escorty, she nods her head in understanding as she takes a sip of wine that Bianca suppolied. "Lord Yuri, this place is great by the way. I've enjoyed it the times I've been here." When Azova enters, Thea greets her with a smile,"Azova, hey."

NOTHING epitomizes luxury and grandeur like Baelos Redrain. Well, actually the prince's invitation must have said dress code is 'snappy casual' because he is, well, casual. That said, he does not miss the opportunity to admire himself in the mirrored bar as he swaggers inside and immediately looks to find a whiskey.

The secure hand on the small of her back steers her easily towards the bar, with the Thraxian princess following Romulius' lead, though her gait, usually so clipped and quick, slows in overt appreciation of La Rosa's carefully curated aesthetics. "Yes, absolutely. I think you know what I like," she tells the Blackshore lord with a smile, with no small degree of mischief, movement in her periphery prompting a turn to fully regard Lianne's drift towards their direction; her face easily catches near-obsidian irises that hardly miss much. Once she's ventured closer, Natasha's slim frame angles towards the darkly resplendent Marquessa Malespero and her comely escort; also a familiar face. "Marquessa, I'm pleased to see you again, though I'm glad for the opportunity to actually greet you properly, this time. May I present Lord Romulius Blackshore." She gestures to her powerfully built companion, who somehow manages to still tower over the tall princess by several inches. "My oldest and best childhood friend. My lord Blackshore, this is Marquessa Lianne Malespero and her companion. Have you met Guildmaster Apollo?" Medeia's smile their way prompts a small wave in turn.

Yuri bowed his head cordially to Lianne, having stepped in time with Medeia, "Marquessa Malespero, so wonderful to see yourself and Messere Oakwood. I am pleased to inform you that you shall not be disappointed. La Rosa endeavors to be a focal point of dining elegance for those that wish to have an experience unlike, from what I have seen, in the city. And the ballroom? A fine aftertouch." He wafted his hand about with a chuckle, "I intend to offer such a venue for all manner of extravagant function; be it familial meeting, counsel feast, what have you. Perhaps seasonal balls for the peerage." His head canted off to where Tyche had made a spectacle to introduce Prince Velenosa, "Ah! You have done it now, Marquessa. He shall preen for all to see!" He spoke aside to Medeia a moment, uncoiling away as she had become preoccupied. Thea was offered a grateful bow of his head as he glanced between she and Bianca, "Lady Malvici! Well, thank you ever so much. I shall tell the chefs that the regards are flowing in with high praise! That shall bolster spirits, no doubt."

Bianca lifted her glass to Medeia's wave, another smile crossing the room to meet the Harlequin in company to that small toast. Thea's words drew her attention back, though and she chuckled. "No, no apologies for due diligence, Thea. I am glad to hear you both are appreciating the process rather than trying to bluster through it as if it was a duty and not the budding of your future." Her smile turned up to Yuri as he approached, but again she would not retain him overly long with idle chatter. Man of the hour and all that!

"Lord Blackshore," Medeia returns to Romulius, seeming faintly amused by the formality. Her eyes settle on Apollo for a ingering moment, some unspoken exchange there, before she smiles brialliantly at Tyche. "Marquessa, I can't argue with you. Not when you're right." She gives Yuri's hand a squeeze before he moves off, looking to move now toward the bar to collect a drink for herself.

"Should I take that as an invitation?" Gabriella lifts an eyebrow to Tyche, turning momentarily to take a glass from one of the servants and sip from the whiskey. "Though I was bested one time by a certain Redrain Prince." She admits, inclining her head in a polite bow to greet Leonel as he is drawn forward. "A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."

Apollo gives a shake of his head at Tyche, smiling. "If I were as dashing as Marquessa Lianne," he says, "I would fear some sort of incident, being in her company." Attention turns on to Alessia, and he gives her a smile, a dip of his head. "Lady Alessia. I did - I just came from escorting her home, in fact. Fed and left to rest. I was very glad to do it." His eyes crinkle at the corners; it could be the infusion of a smile, but there's also something tired, in those eyes. He turns eyes on toward Romulius. "I might not have had the pleasure, no. Lord Romulius, very nice to meet you. I did a bit of work with House Blackshore a couple years back; I can't recall if we met then." His brows loft, inquisitive.

Scylla has joined the a set of luxurious sofas.

"Absolutely not," Tyche laughingly replies to Gabriella, a shake of her head to emphasize that she was most certainly not challenging the woman to an arm wrestling match for secrets. "Unless," an idea strikes, a single gloved finger lifted to tap her lips. "Might I pick a champion?" Her dark eyes slide to the incoming Redrain. "A certain prince, perhaps, to defend my secrets from you?" Her hand lifts to wave to the man, the humor never far from her expression. She tilts her head when Alessia speaks of her husband, mentioning once more, "I still have not met the man. A shame, because I would love to know who was strong enough to align with you." Apollo's remark she dips her head to, "Wiser words have never been spoken, surely."

"A bit," says Reve in turn toward Azova with a smile. Enough for him to act as though he was at home, though. Comfortable enough is this Halfshav. He spies Yuri yonder, inclining his head toward the host in an amused sort of way before he spies Nurie yonder. Lo and behold, he is heading in that direction without any hesitation at all. Maybe just a mid-stride snare of another glass of wine. "Cousin. I am so very, very pleased to see you." Yes, he greets Nurie with a kiss to the cheek.

Reve has joined the mirrored bar counter with high-back, cushioned stools.

Lianne belatedly angles an apologetic smile toward Thea, potentially making mental note to return the Guildmaster later in the evening. For now, however, she addresses Yuri brightly, "Oh, I have no doubt. This is a beautiful beginning. I do look forward to dancing." The arch of her brows might imply invitation, but she doesn't trouble the host any longer while he's thus swarmed. Instead, she offers Apollo an apologetic look when he's declared to be not-quite-as-dashing as she is, the impish glint in her eye belying any sincerity there. Nevermind the flicker of warmth which follows for his retort. With a bit of gravity, she nods from Tyche to Medeia and states, "I must agree with the marquessa here. I expect our meeting, which I agree we ought to see to soon, won't have near so much fun as this evening shall." Of course, she says that before anyone asks after Adalyn. The question draws a look toward Apollo first. Finding him smiling, she smiles, too, that same good humor, entirely sincere, turned toward Alessia. There might be some further thought, but there are introductions being made. "Lord Romulius," comes with a bow of her head. "A pleasure to meet you. I've only recently made the princess' acquaintance and find myself already enchanted. It speaks well of her that she holds such long friendships."

Baelos has long been empowered with the ability to perceive his name uttered by a female no matter the size of the crowd. Whiskey procured, he weaves his way amidst the better dressed and adorned, and toward Gabriella and Tyche: "I never hesistate when signalled by the Marquessa.." He winks to both of them. "Do I sense a contest in the works?"

Baelos has joined the a set of luxurious sofas.

"Greetings, hello -- yes. That's in fact how i am, Marquessa Inverno." A flutter of eyelids later, and Leonel's head had returned to the present. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance -- charmed, even." A freshly supplied glass of wine had apparently preoccupied him and stolen his thoughts away so much that it took a moment for the prince to re-orient himself amidst the small crowd, though a crooked smile came as easy as his sidle up against Tyche's side had. There was an incline of his head for all of those involved in the impromptu introductions, before Leonel's loe affair with whatever vintage had been delivered to him continued. "Did we secure the location of Lord Yuri yet, hn? Did you pass along my well-wishes and congratulations while I was busily planning our bright future in my head?" The query was for Tyche, and so that's the direction that his head swung, at least momentarily. His eyes rested upon her for a beat before he was scouring faces far off and away from those closest to him.

Azova inclines her head towards Yuri in greeting, but as she has her hand tucked under Reve's arm she leaves her hello as simple as that and follows him to the bar. "We should be certain to come here often then." is decided, while she leans slightly and murmurs something towards him as they settle into high-backed and cushioned stools. "Do these spin? Please tell me they spin." she whispers in a very not-quiet whisper towards Nurie.

Azova has joined the mirrored bar counter with high-back, cushioned stools.

Azova belatedly waves at Thea too, because only now is she catching up on everything. Whee!

Two crystal tumblers, one of rum and one of whiskey are collected, the latter offered to Natasha. His introduction to Lianne prompts a polite bow and a smile, his greeting coming out in a baritone colored by an accent typical of the Isles. "Marquessa Malespero, the pleasure is mine, I assure you. Though, I can't say how well it speaks of her that she has chosen to hold *my* companionship for so long." Another grin with that, the expression coming naturally to the Sword of New Hope before attention drifts towards Apollo. "Guildmaster." A smile and dip of his head in greeting before he continues, "We did not, unfortunately - I believe this is truly our first introduction. My sister spoke highly of you and your involvement, though. Allow me to extend very belated thanks."

Thea thanks Bianaca as she lifts her wine glass. "Thank you. We're trying. How are you? I'm assuming busy,"she says. As Baelos makes his entrace, she greets him with a nod of her head. "Prince Baelos. It's been well--it's been a long time, has it not? How are you?"

Nurie answers Reve's kiss to the cheek with one placed to his own, and one offered to Azova as well, if it is accepted. "Your highness," she says to Keely, "Have you met Lord Reve Halfshav, and Lady Azova Darkwater? Lord Reve's mother was once a Tessere, and he was fostered in Iriscal when he was a boy. Lady Azova is a talented healer, and a Mercy." At Azova's question though, she looks towards both her and Keely conspiratorily. "I--I'm not sure. Let's have Reve try it out first!"

Scylla has been standing for some time off to the side of the luxurious sofas, but suddenly feels inspired to settle upon one of the cushions. It is a relatively graceful motion, only because of her extreme awareness that the rum in her glass could spill with one errant move. When she relaxes her spine against the plush back, one leg crosses over the other, and silvery eyes fixate upon Princess Gabriella. "Baroness Scylla Stormblood, a pleasure" she replies conversationally to the introduction made some moments prior, though at a time when a distraction in the form of distant waves and greetings to familiar faces took precedence. Now, with the freedom to socialize properly, the umbra-clad sailor balances her drink upon the armrest along her left side, momentarily forgotten in favor of getting to know new people. Cue the arrival of an unfamiliar Prince dressed casually for the occasion. "If there is a contest, do allow me to watch. I like to gamble." Her words are paired with an air of levity, and sharp eyes shift to settle upon Tyche.

The elder Blackshore's entrance is strikingly unceremonious and overshadowed by the atmosphere of pompous bluster generated by the guests and their revelry. Upon recognizing that he had stumbled upon a grand opening, of all things, the sailor's solemn expression falters -- though this lapse in learned austerity is only temporary. No matter the size and volume of the crowd, the food and liquor were supposedly some of the best that the district had to offer. Cold cerulean gaze identifies an unoccupied table near the entryway and boots soon carry him in that direction, sidling effortlessly into the relative privacy of the booth and collecting a menu to survey.

"I'm not one to say no to a rematch." Gabriella declares to Tyche, lifting her glass in Baelos' direction as he approaches their seat. "And we meet again, Prince Baelos. Are you both acquainted already?" She asks, taking a longer sip from her drink to boost her faculties. "The pleasure is mine, Baroness. I see we favor similar pastimes, I mostly gamble for fun rather than gains."

"Never?" Tyche challenges Baelos already simply in his word choice. "Mmm, that would have served me well to know months ago, your highness." Some shared secret there, but she swiftly moves on to the contest brewing. "Princess Gabriella is demanding arm wrestling wins for secrets. Did you win one off of her recently?" She twists as Leonel speaks to her, a brow arching slowly, "Yuri is just there, and he knows quite well how eager we are to celebrate him. What plans do you have for our bright future? Please do tell. Make them particularly detailed and dastardly, too." She slides one gloved hand into the crook of his arm, a quick squeeze given. If she misses other people speaking to her for a moment, their comments go unheard and unaddressed, because she's leaning in to murmur something to the Velenosa. When she straightens, she's hearing Scylla's call for gambling, and her laughter bubbles up, "Look what you've started, Gabi. You must do it now. I will tell you one secret if you beat Princes Baelos. Not too rowdy though, hmm? We don't want to distract from the grandeur of his event.

"A pleasure," Keely replies to Nurie's introductions of Reve and Azova. ""I'm Princess Keely Grayson," she offers in return to them both. "Really, it's good to meet you both." To the question of the spinning chairs, she looks down at her own, and then back at the others, laughing softly at Nurie's suggestion. "Agreeable to me."

Lianne's kind words soften the Thraxian princess' expression further, to the point of the utter banishment of her signature severity to avail a fleeting glimpse of the woman underneath so much nigh-near impregnable professionalism. "As you're aware, the circumstances of our acquaintanceship were very unique, but I think the world has a way of arranging things the way they ought to be," Natasha offers to Romulius quietly, her own mezzo-sopranic diction shaded with her own Islander accent, though her gaze lingers on the Marquessa. "These days I find a remarkable solace in my lady Malespero's company. She and I are very like-minded in many things." After a beat and a scything slyness that cuts the distance between her companion and herself, fingers reach forward to take the offered tumbler of whiskey, keeping it aloft without taking a pull of it just yet. "But some have told me that variety is the spice of life, so I suppose to afford my own life some additional character, I must break up careful consideration now and then with ocean-bound shenanigans and well-meant recklessness, where I suppose *you* come in and why I've chosen to hold your companionship for so long. Keep being so mischievous and you'll inevitably force my hand by telling the Baroness Stormblood that you've broken your one social event rule for me tonight."

Yuri canted his head toward Leonel with a chuckle, "Bright future, oh? Here I am, your Highness." Indeed, he was before Leonel! A bit of a friendlier gesture was granted to the Prince with a hand to his shoulder, "You can pass along said well-wishes now, if you wish!" He chuckled heavily, tapping the man lightly on the shoulder before lowering his hand, "Has the Marquessa been keeping you cooped up, feasting along the spoils I had sent over?" He glanced to where Tyche had run off before he turned his attention to the man, "Very good to see you, my friend. Have you had a chance to take a moment, have some wine or a snack or two?" Tyche did not need to look far either, for he had placed himself well into the throng of guests. Yuri's meandering had taken him from Leonel in greeting to Tyche with a smile, "All's well? Just intent to make my rounds."

"Busy as ever, but I've been making an effort to be more socially accessible as of late rather than remaining in my sanctuary of dust and books." Bianca chuckled softly, sipping her drink. Her eyes strayed toward the entrance and the man who had the very good idea of exploring the menu and actually eating, Aedric. However, a murmur from Thea beside her had the woman of white leaning to peer down at the Malvici's hand and whatever it was that garnered her attention also drew forth a refreshed smile to her lips.

"That would almost indicate the weak willed would have a tough time with me." Alessia says with feigned offence. "That's a horrible thought, I can be a very soothing presence." She chuckles. "But yes, he has a strong spirit." She finishes her drink before handing it over to a passing server.

Azova welcomes the greeting from Nurie with a delighted smile, returning the kiss on the cheek before her gaze settles on Keely. "Your Highness. It's a pleasure to meet you." she offers. "What say you, Lord Reve. Would you like to try spinningh the stool to see if it works?" Her expression is already near overflowing with mirth already, but she looks positively challenging at him when all the ladies are in agreement.

After collecting a glass of something from the bar, it looks like vodka with a fancy twist of citrus peel floating in it, Medeia makes her way toward the couch that Scylla is at. "Admi- Baroness," she corrects herself. A curtsy is given, with a warm smile. "How is your shoulder?" She then looks to Gabriella, offering a polite nod of greeting. "I'm afraid we've not met before. Lady Medeia Eswynd."

"We are acquainted, as you polite southern ladies would say." Baelos responds to Gabriella regarding Tyche. "She knows me well enough to caution against my rowdy nature. And I was just about to remove my shirt and do this properly!" Scylla gets a fond smile and a nod of greeting, no doubt due to her stated fondness for gambling, but the Redrain turns away for a moment at Thea's greeting to reply: "Too long!" Looking back to the others nearby, and the Pravus princess in particular, he quirks a brow: "A rematch then?"

"Well, I'm glad to correct it now," Apollo offers to Romulius, with a dip of his head. Finding a hollow in the conversation, he sips at his wine, glances sidelong toward Lianne. There's a certain attendance of Natasha; her commentary on the solace found in Lianne's company, in particular, seems to snag his interest. A warm murmur to Lianne, and he parts from her company for a moment - turns out he wanted red wine, and just didn't know it.

"Was a Tessere," says Reve with a shake of his head and a grin to Nurie. "Once and always, mm?" That might be spoken a little bit too quiet though, mind. That said, introductions are at hand and his focus lifts toward the Grayson princess. He straightens his spine and regards her for a moment before a dip of his head occurs. "A pleasure, your highness. As said, Lord Reve Halfshav." Now Reve, he is still amused as he looks toward his cousin, then the Lady Darkwater at that particular question. "Me try it out, mmm?" A flash of a sharp grin is offered to the Grayson princess but he is snaring the Darkwater with (hopefully) no small amount of vigor to assist her with her barstool claiming. He will stand still, thank you. Also, of particular note, is with a feat of strength he tries to see if the barstools spin. With the one that Azova is in. Mind you he keeps arms close to snare if need be. Or maybe he's just caging her. There's really no telling there.

With whiskey being handed to Natasha, Lianne lifts her glass of red wine to the princess and drinks. A glimmer of humor dances in her verdant eyes, but she gives no shape to the toast, no words to go with it. Romulius' words are met with a high arch of her dark brows, considering, like she hears some challenge therein and may take him up on it. There might, too, be a glint of warning in that look. Her expression shifts toward seriousness as she looks to Natasha again, that hint of something softer caught surely, but it's her words that pull the scholar in. "I disagree with you on that point, what the world might arrange, but that might be a conversation better saved for later. A touch too substantive for a night of wine and--" She glances to a passing tray, considering the food. The thought falters some for other bits of conversation she catches, expression warming again. With a laugh, she wonders, "Must you?" Her gaze slips toward Scylla for a moment before trailing after Apollo at whatever was whispered. "I think I might like to try a bit of the food on offer this evening. I don't suppose I could convince the two of you to find some quiet corner here to occupy with me?"

"You certainly did take your time making your way to your favorite guest, Lord Yuri." The mirth in his voice was reflected in the broad smile arranged upon his lips, and Leonel's hand rose for Yuri, to set a playful clap of his palm upon the other man's cheek. "Consider yourself well-wished -- the place is beautiful." His eyes wandered, taking in the environment of the building instead of the people that filled it, that time. "I know where I'll be spending an inordinate amount of time now." When his attention finally made its way back to Yuri, some shrewd narrowing of his eyes accompanied the words that followed as Leonel's shape listed in the man's direction. "I need to have a talk with you at some point. Not about the sauce, though that /was/ delightful. I've a proposition that you might be interested in, hn? Later, later." With the man of the hour finally addressed, Leonel's head swung again in Tyche's direction, the murmured exchange of her words still fresh in his mind and the prince's only immediate response was the queer perk of a brow and bemused stare. He couldn't keep his lips straight for overly long though and quickly he caved, succumbing to a crooked, and slyly presented smile that preceded some hushed mutter of his own.

Bianca has left the cushion-covered seating.

Sir Alren, Scholar Duran, a perpetually put-upon assistant, 5 Templar Knight guards leave, following Bianca.

"Indeed!" Gabriella exclaims, flashing a smile to the Eswynd lady. "A pleasure to meet you, Lady Medeia. Are you also favorable to arm wrestling?" She questions, blowing some air out of her nose at Baelos' response. "Well, I don't have my armor on tonight, so we'll both do it out of comfort zone." She searches for an armrest of the sofa to provide some support for the challenge, "Ready whenever you are, Your Highness."

Far from looking fearful at the prospect of being spun around, Azova's expression is delighted. Even when the attempt at spinning the stool is met with... near disaster. He tries it, and he's sure strong enough that the stool moves. -Fast-. But it sure isn't in much of a spin. It starts to, on one leg or two that might leave a streak on the floor, before it wobbles wildly and the Darkwater healer is tumbling out of her seat in a peal of laughter. "They spin well enough when you try real hard it seems!" Ahem. Maybe that's an apologetic glance at the proprietor of the establishment.

Alessia has joined the a set of luxurious sofas.

Keely cuts her conversation at the bar short as the attempt to spin the chair goes sideways -- literally. "Oh dear. I'm not sure that's quite what we meant," she notes sympathetically. "Are you all right?" She looks to the spilled lady, but the laughter seems like a safe sign that nothing has been seriously injured.

Apollo is just a moment - a few steps to trade out wine glasses - and then he's turning back. Tugged by his ear, in fact, which did in fact catch on 'try a bit of the food' as he offered Lianne his arm again. It's some sort of magic for his mood, a giant lift. "I'm very interested to learn what they have on offer," he says. "Something smells nice." His eyes swing around the room, considering - and if they light on a plate, it might make a decision about a /what/ to eat, straight off.

"Oh, I am quite in my comfort zone.." Baelos retorts with a laugh. Polishing off his glass of whiskey, he takes a knee beside the sofa and pushes up one sleeve. "OK, time for bets..

Scylla bends her elbow to press the cold rim of her rum glass to her lower lip to imbibe from the pooled liquid within. It is a brief affair, then she's back to conversing freely with those mingling near and around her. "Oh, never coin, your highness. We never had enough of it to throw away so recklessly. It was always duties or chores for a week, a month, sometimes a year when the stakes were particularly high." Her unmarred eyebrow lifts with some latent levity, even as her mouth curls into a smile. She tears her gaze away from Gabriella seated beside her to settle those stark silver sights upon the Redrain prince. There's an air of curiosity detectable in the sideways tilt of her head, though before she can put her thoughts to words, Lady Medeia approaches and steals all of her attention away thereafter. "Lady Medeia," she murmurs brightly, her head dipping forward respectfully. "Don't worry, I still want to refer to myself as such; it'll take some getting used to for everyone. 'Scylla' is just fine, between us." The woman balls her hand into a fist and knocks lightly against said shoulder. "All better, thankfully. Just in time to get knocked around again, when our orders come down. And yours?" With the arm-wrestling contest commencing, so the baroness sits forward in her seat a little, and turns her attentive gaze to the action. "No bets tonight, but I'm rooting for Princess Gabriella."

There was a brief glance along to whatever commotion was happening at the bar, a server trying to at least point out to the guests there that the stools did not spin as they had hoped. Yuri glanced to Leonel with a smile, "Oh, please. When I have fully built out the ground floor with the terrace, it shall be a place for all seasons. I now just need to envision how we can allow a grotto, of sorts, to be mirrored upstairs. For I have an abundance of suites that will need purposing, in time." His head canted somewhat, nodding, "Of course, you will always have my ear, your Highness. We will meet soon after and you can enlighten me to the proposition." He paced over to Tyche to offer her a greeting; a peck to each cheek before he pulled away and canted his head along to another commotion. "Bets? Gods, what is going on there..." He stepped to, settling in time along toward Scylla as he glanced to her with a bit of a smirk, "And what exactly is going on here? There's a cold dance floor though I see everyone is apt to congregate at the bar."

At the inevitable horrible sound that probably happens in some capacity when a leg goes scratching across the floor, Nurie can't help but cringe. Her sidelong look is almost childlike for a moment. Her eyes widen for a moment as Azova makes a three point landing, and she's immediately up out of her seat, to help offer a hand. She doesn't cast a chiding glance at Reve, instead shaking her head slightly with her mouth twitched into a smile she's trying to hide--but Yuri is given a very apologetic look, if that sound didn't get lost in the general crowd. SHe can't help but inspect the floor though, with that artist's eye.

"Oh, I am quite in my comfort zone.." Baelos retorts with a laugh. Polishing off his glass of whiskey, he takes a knee beside the sofa and pushes up one sleeve. "OK, time for bets.. truths or gold!" To the Pravus, he arches a brow as he clasps her hand: "I think we have spent more time like this than speaking. Is this your way of flirting, I wonder?"

"I've far more than one rule, when it comes to affairs such as this, your Highness. Knowing you, you'll try to have me break them all - much to the Baroness's amusement at your recount, no doubt." Romulius answers Natasha's threat with a shrug before his gaze shifts away from present company. Something near the ballroom's entrance, it seems, has drawn the whole of his attention - he almost doesn't seem to catch the request made by Lianne, and his reply is distant and delayed when he finally answers. "I would be glad to, Marquessa - if you'll excuse me just a moment?" Whatever it is that has drawn his interest has done so with vigor, and in a rare moment of lapsed courtesy, he doesn't wait for a response, heavy footfalls carrying him towards a booth nearby that Aedric has occupied. "Uncle. I'd not expected to see you, here." The cerulean that marks their bloodline is apparently a powerful magnet, Romulius having had no difficulty in spotting him through the crowd. "I am meant to dine with the Princess Natasha and Marquessa Malespero here tonight - can I expect to see you at the manse, soon?"

When Leonel suggests some secretive meeting with Yuri about some proposition, Tyche's interest is certainly piqued, but she does not ask for all of her curiosity. Perhaps because she's being given her own secret when he leans in to murmur something to her. Whatever it is was, she turns more fully toward the Velenosa, leaning in to converse quietly about this or that. When she pulls away, she spares a brush of her lips for his cheek, and then her attention is fully on the arm wrestling that is not going to be at all rowdy. "Lord Yuri, they are trying to win secrets. I've assigned Prince Baelos Redrain as my champion, and Baroness Scylla has determined that Princess Gabriella Pravus will win. I think she has some desire to hear my hidden truths herself." That about sums it up, yes? She turns to take Yuri's hand in both of hers, squeezing. "This is a lovely event, Yuri. You should be so pleased with what you've done. Have you uncovered all of the little passages and trapdoors in the rebuilding?" Her dark eyes twinkle as if she might simply be teasing - but then again...


*** Baelos has called for an opposing check with Gabriella. ***
Baelos checks strength and athletics at easy. Baelos is successful.
Gabriella checks strength and athletics at easy. Gabriella is successful.
*** Baelos is the winner. ***

Medeia laughs softly in response to Gabriella. "I'm certain I would embarrass myself terribly were I to try," arm wrestling, she means. A glance at Baelos has her nodding her head in his direction. "Lovely to see you outside of the Dancing Feather." Scylla's friendly response has her nodding. "Of course, thank you. I am recovered from the arrow, and the smashed knee." She makes a gesture toward her upper left arm, where a scar is covered by black lace. Yuri's mention of the cold dance floor catches her ear. "My lord, shall we have the first dance, then?"

Thea has left the cushion-covered seating.

Reve should be shamed at making such a display, he really should. Yet Reve is absolutely not. He's busy enjoying the moment with a wide grin and a wobbly stool. He begins to help Azova reclaim her seat but Nurie has that taken care of. Still, once she is there he is easing in to take his place beside her anew. He even lends an arm for security. "I am dreadfully fond of you, Lady Darkwater," he remarks, easy as can be. "And you, Nurie, who tolerates me so." He does not offer Yuri an apologetic look, perhaps believing Nurie's counts for his own. "So, are we eating, cousin? Did you school them on how to make proper food?" He finally casts a sidelong look toward the Grayson princess once more. "Have you ever been to Iriscal?"

Her smile threatens to broaden further, dark eyes brightening like coals stoked to further life - it might be strange how a woman can appear so galvanized at the word 'disagree', but Natasha is ultimately a willing slave to her calling; lawyers will forever be enticed to debate, or at least some manner of intellectual discourse that avails oneself of the viewpoints of the other, and assess the body of evidence offered. "Indeed, I made a promise to my lord Blackshore that I would endeavor to set aside work in favor of play this evening, otherwise he claims he wouldn't be able to take me anywhere ever again." A mock-aggravated look is slanted towards Romulius, though this follows into a trailing pass when Apollo rejoins them. "And I'm afraid that if I don't partake in any of the food, I might offend my lord Tessere so egregiously that I may never be invited back. I don't suppose we can have a platter sent to our corner?" Her companion's brief exit from their circle has her gaze following him to where he leads....and upon seeing who it is, her smile fades, for a moment or two.

Still, its disappearance is brief, before she turns to Lianne and Apollo again. "Please lead the way," she says, gesturing that she will follow, and once Lianne has picked a corner, she will do so, though her head cranes over her shoulder, threads of concern stitching over her visible expression. Subtle, but detectable by a pair of perceptive eyes. Her wake to a new location has her passing by Scylla's and Medeia's direction, dropping a soft whisper to both ladies as she does.

Azova always brings a sense of adventure with her when she goes on any outing with Reve, and today was VERY obviously no exception. "I'm fine, I'm fine! I promise! I have too many patients to tend to, honestly. I can't afford to be injured and so I am not." As if that along would determine whether she hurt herself at all. "And I you, of course, Lord Halfshav. I believe this should become our favored establishment. If only for new ways to entertain people with the seating." A dimpled smile is flashed at the others who gathered at the bar, and her voice lowers enough to speak to them alone for a moment.

Gabriella motions her head from one side to the other while considering Baelos question. "Similar, perhaps. But there are some slight differences." She decides, taking a deep breath to focus on the match ahead and make sure the people supporting her won't be disappointed. Yet, despite her best efforts, the Princess struggles over and over until a hard groan denotes she can't go any longer. "Alright, that's it. I have to practice." She grumbles, readjusting her posture. As for the secret... "The reason why I dislike wearing dresses is that Lucrezia once spoiled my favorite dress on purpose. I've found it's much easier to get wine out of armor."

Said glance quickly was brought along to the sound of the clamor, as Yuri glanced slowly along to Nurie with a surprised expression as he settled his gaze down to the marred stool and the thrown Azova. "...wh--is she alright?" His head canted along toward Tyche with a chuckle, which later turned to sincere thanks, "Well...so long as no one is hurt. I do not need that hanging over like a macabre specter. Though, it would give the place more of a reputation." He smirked, "I have not, though I intend to. I did not think I would have been granted the estate though the Archduchess had it fall into my lap. There is much more to be done but I do hope you find it as inviting as it was before." His attention fell onto Medeia as she approached, canting his head with a smile to her, "Oh, but of course. If you had to ask me at all. Perhaps we will garner a few pairs to join us too. Though, the troupe is playing marvelously without any encouragement."

When Marquessa Tyche relinquishes Yuri's hand, she reaches out to collect it to impart a brief, friendly squeeze of reassurance. "Nothing so terrible, just a little lighthearted fun. Don't worry, I'll see to it that they don't ruin the furniture...well, at least /this/ furniture. I can't speak for the bar stools." A concerned look passes over her face as those eyes dart to the far end of the room. Lady Medeia's dance offer has her very quickly and decisively letting that hand go so that it may be put to far better use. "Enjoy that new dance floor, my lord, you've certainly earned it!" A nod follows, and then she seems prepared to return her divided attention to the arm wrestling contest, but, no! There's a whispered word at her ear from a familiar voice, one that sparks a particularly full and emotive smile to liven her visage. She leans in to take it in, and then promptly replies.

Keely's attention remains on Azova a moment longer, not quite convinced that she's completely uninjured, but then, there's little she can do about it either way. She offers an apologetic graimce to Yuri, cheeks pink, before ducking back to continue a quieter conversation at the bar.

Lianne's hand slips right back into place when Apollo offers his arm again, fingers curling below his shoulder. She teases, "That's me," for his comment about something smelling nice, her humor sufficiently dry that it might be difficult to catch that. That mirth is more easily read, and a touch warmer too, when she suggests to Natasha, "What constitutes 'play' could take /any number/ of shapes. After all, conversations such as that aren't likely to quite qualify as /work/, are they?" Though she considers Romulius and his departure, she trusts in his ability to find them wherever they might end up, and so it is that she does, indeed, lead the way to a nice, comfy corner of the ballroom where she murmurs to one of the serving staff about having an assortment of the evening's sampling fare brought over for the four of them to taste. And maybe some refilled drinks. Nevermind that she's hardly touched her wine.

Lianne has joined the cushion-covered seating.

When Gabriella is bested by the barbarian (great title for a book), Tyche exhales a breath of both disappointment and pleasure. "I had hoped to see you win, Gabi, but I am glad my secrets are safe." Before she has a chance to pry one out of the woman, the Pravosi is spilling. "Wait - !" she begins, but it is too late. She learns of the truth to the dress debacle. "I was going to ask a very specific secret. I was going to ask if you found your opponent attractive, but I guess we'll never know." Her dark eyes glitter with amusement, a look cast Baelos, but then she turns to see Yuri being pulled to the dancefloor. "Oh wonderful," she smiles, apparently pleased to see it broken in!

Medeia nods to Natasha's quiet word in passing before handing her glass off to a server to join Yuri. Amusement settles into her expression. "Don't listen to him, Marquessa," she murmurs to Tyche. "Before his meeting, I had a thought such might happen and told him so. Didn't I?" Her eyes sparkle as she looks up at Yuri, offering her hand to dance.

Natasha has joined the cushion-covered seating.

Apollo has joined the cushion-covered seating.

There are worse things than losing at arm wrestling with Baelos. The prince has a joyful grin as the match finishes, leaning in to murmur something to Gabriella before standing again to wave for a drink. Fun is clearly his top priority, although he does a quick scan of the room to see if any coins change hands. His survey is interrupted by Gabriella's admission, and he affects a frown: "A dress-related secret!?" He sighs and gestures to Tyche just as his drink arrives, "A much better revelation!"

Apollo's brows loft as Lianne turns them toward the seating; his eyes turn ceiling-ward. "I couldn't possibly," he says, lightly, mouth twisting with a scrap of humor - but soon enough he's settling in to talk in a space of contrived peace, or at least contrived continuity, introductions and pleasantries settling to substance - both conversation and food, of course, though he drinks his wine as he drifts.

For some reason, Alessia's been a little spacey since she's sat down, but the Inverno's exclamation has her blinking a few times and looking around for what caused such an outburst. "Oh." She says with a light laugh. "Well that's the beauty of aeterna and umbra. No wine stains on those." She lifts a hand before suggesting, "Or any silk that's wine-colored."

Yuri's eye fell from the commotion of arm-wrestling and stool-spinning, the latter found to not be so successful! He shook his head lightly as he shared a quiet moment with Scylla but soon a chuckle, "I leave it in your capable hands, Baroness." He winked to her quickly, giving a gentle squeeze to her shoulder as she had imparted such to his hand. He turned onward to take Medeia's hand gingerly, leading her off to the dance floor as the musicians roused up a jaunty tune for a spirited set from the pair.

"Lord Yuri spent a great deal of time and effort to bring back many things from Iriscal that are very difficult if not impossible to find in Arx," Nurie explains to Reve, "Including some of the staff. Cook was beside herself with joy, I think. And he oversaw everything to make sure it was just so." As Azova resettles on the barstool, none the worse for wear, she beams again as she looks about. "We tried as much as possible to give a sense of home in the Villa, but Yuri's brought to life a vision to share even more of Iriscal with the wider Compact, to bring more of a taste, if you will pardon the expression, than just our textiles." From her tone, it sounds like she greatly approves, glancing with affectionate pride at her cousin as he makes is way to the dance floor.

Yuri has joined the a reflective dance floor.

Medeia has joined the a reflective dance floor.

"If you so desire it, yes," Aedric replies, identifying nephew's voice almost immediately. Though there was no need to look up from the menu, he does so -- offering the younger man a small smile. "Please enjoy your evening. Dance, and drink, if they ask you to. These are the moments you won't want to forget." Priceless, some would say. Attention then returns to the intricately scribbled text etched upon parchment, mind mulling over the unfamiliar names that piqued a sailor's tasteless curiosity.

Gabriella seeks the solace of her drink, "Well, there will be other opportunities, I'm sure." She mentions, one of her shoulders ebbs and flows in a shrug. "Meanwhile, the mystery lives on." The Princess casts a fleeting wink in Baelos direction, before shifting her attention to the dance floor. "At a proper table. This place looks like it'd take dance duels better than my arm wrestling ideas, which isn't half bad either."

"I think it was a delightful idea, and executed brilliantly obviously." Azova decides, much more dignified now that she's back in a seat. There's no telling how long that will last if her wine glass continues to be refilled though. So perhaps her bar-mates should take advantage of the lack of shenanigans while it lasts.

Reve leans down to murmur something to Azova, flashing her a grin thereafter before finding his focus once more on the Grayson Princess. This is likely quiet conversation at the bar, but bluntly, Reve is content speaking in his normal voice. At least not when speaking in a hushed way to that particular Darkwater. "Something to be remedied," he agrees to Keely. "A great amount of education can be found in travels, a wealth of knowledge." He gestures a hand to just illustrate 'and so on and so on' but does not bother with dull details. When Nurie elaborates regarding the taste of the establishment, he dips his head and finally does lower his voice to speak to the group at the bar in reasonable tone.

"Everything seems very breakable.." Baelos observes of the mirrors and other finery. "Dance duels are likely the safest bet." He makes no move in that direction himself, but does remain shockingly silent for a few moments as he looks around and enjoys his drink. But only a moment. "I typically save arm wrestling until much later in the evening. There are only so many ways to escalate when you have already started the arm wrestling." Life lessons from the Redrain. He settles down on the arm of the couch, and glances back to Gabriella, "You never told me which sister.."

With graceful motion, Medeia and Yuri take to the dance floor, one of the lady's hands sliding comfortably behind his neck and the other tucking into his hand. The two have danced often enough that it is effortless for her to relinquish the lead to him as the musicians play a lively tune. As she follows his steps, the skirt of her dress twirls causing those roses to seem like they are floating on a wispy cloud of sultry red and purple hues.

"I think we share the same aversion to the dancing, at least. You look well - I will see you, soon, then. Enjoy your evening, Uncle." With that, Romulius offers a nod to the elder Blackshore, his gaze lingering upon Aedric a touch longer before he makes to depart, eyes quickly finding where Natasha and company have found themselves seated. Long strides carry him in that direction, a quick bow and apologetic smile offered to those seated. "Forgive me. I don't suppose that anything has proven itself particularly tantalizing, yet?" His rum is set upon the tabletop, a quick glance shot towards Natasha with a pursing of lips as he takes a seat.

Romulius has joined the cushion-covered seating.

Yuri captured Medeia's hand as he roped her in close to him, picking up some pace in time with the rhythm played by the enthusiastic musicians. Truth be told, he had led some numerous times but there was some mirth in his expression whereas he slowed down a few times to allow Medeia a lead or two; enacting the woman into a graceful spin to allow her gown to flourish amongst the mirrored facets of the chandeliers and reflective floor to accentuate.

As Baelos settles in with Gabriella, there's a quick smile from Tyche, her attention drifting back to the prince beside her, quite content to engage in a quiet conversation as she sips her wine and watches the dancing.

"How would you escalate it?" Gabriella questions, studying the structure of the room. This time with a different purpose. "Not that I'm planning on breaking anything, it'd be a shame to be banned from such a fine place during its inauguration." She smirks, taking note of his arm at the armrest, "Another round, then?"

In the aftermath of the entertaining arm-wrestling match, Scylla lapses into a ruminative silence at her end of the sofa, still nursing the glass of rum enclosed in her left hand. It is during this discontinuity of conversation and thrills that her piercing eyes aimlessly wander the room in want of some new fixation; she certainly finds one worthwhile. Lord Aedric's presence in a booth, accompanied by his nephew, inspires the baroness's eyes to smolder with intensity, while a crease forms between her emotive eyebrows. A debate ensues in her mind, which is evident in the way she sits up in her seat, then relaxes, then sits up again. Finally, she stands to her full height, inclines her head passively to those seated at the couches, and then makes a bee-line for the booth, passing Lord Romulius on the way and sharing what amounts to a silent nod and wan smile of acknowledgement. "Lord Aedric," Scylla murmurs in greeting, and then, without asking, takes up a seat opposite him at the table. "What's it to be?" Her free hand gestures out to the menu in his grasp.

Baelos ticks off a few fingers, "Drinking contest, brawling for bets, brawling for fun, brawling in anger, general melee, embarassing arguments..." The Redrain wears a grin that makes clear he is kidding, even if his tone is all experience. "You could go a lot of directions." He pauses, "Were you dodging my sister question? I think I know at least one of them." Gods know what that could mean, coming from him.

"I could do with some arm wrestling to start off." Alessia says, suddenly straightening in her seat, her mind having drifted off for a while. "Honestly, that seems the way /to/ escalate things than something we'd need to escalate toward."

Medeia's smile flares with dazzling brightness as Yuri sets her off in a spin, the lights catching on all the little glass beads and curls of shining satin on her dress. When she is drawn back in, she settles close and takes that moment to pull him along in quick, gliding series of steps that take them from one end of the dance floor to the other before seamlessly passing the lead back to Yuri.

"I have some experience with all of them and I happen to be friends with the current fist fight champion of the People's Tournament." Gabriella nods in response to Baelos, pretending to be dead serious about it. "Rather," The Pravosi princess shakes her head negatively, "I'm putting a price to the answer. As I said the other day, I have several sisters." She replies him, turning to greet Alessia with her glass, "I think you'd be most welcome to join us, my lady! Just make sure to be prepared to spill a few secrets."

Yuri shifted along in a sweeping dip to bring Medeia along to the floor before scooping her back up, following that rhythm as the pair swept across the expansive floor. The musicians sparked up the rhythm as the pair set a tear into the floor before Yuri ended the engagement with another spin of Lady Eswynd, drawing her forth with flourish before he was allotted a moment to take a breath with a smile on his face.

As Scylla sits, the sailor stands -- not because he intends to leave, but to demonstrate polite recognition of the woman's new position in society. Once she has made herself comfortable, he returns to his side of the booth. Palms are brought to rest atop either of the mariner's knees, contributing to the uncomfortable rigidity of posture. "Nothing," he replies simply, "but the items described do sound particularly appetizing." Head shifts right, permitting gaze to explore the ballroom's crowded interior. "How are you adjusting to your life amongst the peerage?"

"Hm, I am more than happy to have a fist fight.." Baelos comments with a smile as Alessia joins. She earns a fond grin from the Prince, "Lady Alessia, always a pleasure. The Princess here was just proposing a fist fight at this very lovely grand opening." He clucks his tongue. "Shocking, really." He stands up to free the arm of the couch for the next round, "Perhaps you can win and calm down the situation."

Reve's taking part in a brief exchange there at the barstools. It seems that some sort of agreement has been made - a dance, perhaps - given the fact that Azova is providing her hand to him. "A pleasure," he agrees, tipping his head to the Grayson princess before cutting a look to Nurie thereafter. His expression softens dramatically and he moves forward to bestow a kiss to her forehead. "I will find you to trouble you soon, bright cousin. Be safe or I will be fearsome." It seems she is off to dance with the Grayson anyway. He is drawn to his date however, escorting her formally to the floor so that he can move with the music and spin her about with no small amount of joy. He actually behaves from this point onward, fading into the - ah, no. He behaves because he is not there. Reve and Azova definitely snuck out.

The conversation Nurie is having with Keely, Azova, and Reve seems to be animated and warm, though after some time she stands, smiling brightly, and offers the Grayson princess her arm.

Azova has left the mirrored bar counter with high-back, cushioned stools.

Reve has left the mirrored bar counter with high-back, cushioned stools.

Orion, a healer's surly Assistant, 2 Redoubt Buccaneers, Reve leave, following Azova.

The quiet conversation being had between the Marquessa of Caina and the Prince of Lenosia continues, the pair of them sipping wine, sharing in secrets (without arm wrestling), and generally enjoying their time.

A telltale squeak of pure joy comes from the direction of Medeia as she is dipped daringly low. If asked, she'll deny the sound ever existed, but it happens /every time/. Once swept back up to her feet, her cheeks are flushed with the excitement and exertion of the dance. As they stop, she presses a chaste kiss to Yuri's cheek before stepping away to reclaim her drink or gather a new one so she can continue socializing.

"A pleasure to meet you both. I look forward to running into you again," Keely says to Azova and Reve. She adds something quietly to Nurie at the bar, before straightening up and rising from her seat to take the other woman's arm.

The engaging conversation over in the well-cushioned corner where the Inquisitor-Princess, Lycene Marquessa, well-bearded Blackshore Lord and Guildmaster Whisper sit continues amiably despite the fine distraction of an impressive spread of food before them, dishes sampled while they continue to converse.

"A fist fight." Alessia raises a brow at this. "That is a far cry from an arm wrestling match. Or a drinking contest." She gives a light laugh. "I'm not a pugilist though I'm sure it'd be an amusing show watching me try and find myself bruised in the end."

Nurie has left the mirrored bar counter with high-back, cushioned stools.

Yuri chuckled lightly as the musicians entered into another arrangement, offering a thankful bow to Medeia as she gathered herself and her wine glass to meander off toward the rest of the guests. Yuri flow his cloak over his shoulder, peering off to Nurie as he finally had a chance to come along toward she and Keely, her guest, before offering his cousin a gentle greeting from cheek to cheek, "Cousin, apologies. You are well tonight?" He glanced off to Keely with a smile, "And a good evening to you."

Gabriella glances around the room, "I'm not sure we have many Mercies on duty here." She comments, "Nor I see Lady Clarisse around here." The Pravosi sighs, looking in feign disappointment to both Alessia and Baelos, "I guess we'll have to do with arm wrestling for now. My last round before I have to go." She positions her arm in place, "Will any of you join me?"

Scylla is quite aware of the lord's mannerisms, and so does not seem confused at all by his quick stand as she makes herself comfortable in his presence; it certainly isn't hard. The baroness waits for him to be seated once more before addressing his comments and inquiry with a reply of her own, all the while that scrutinizing stare resting intensely upon the man's grim countenance as though searching for something that has not fully manifested. "Yes, Lord Yuri had to pare down his particularly long list of options, all of them wonderful. Taste testing them was both the highlight of my week, and simultaneously the bane of my fighting figure. I'll have to run a few extra training exercises tomorrow." The tip of her finger taps against the side of her cold glass, now resting atop the table, as she considers his question carefully. "Everything is different. Changed. And I'm perpetually busy. But I suspect it will slow down in time, once my citizens grow accustomed to the new way of things. I've just seen Legate Bianca here, tonight. We continue to pass one another and never have a chance to properly speak. I have thought to enlist her aid with my efforts on Tresova. In the meantime, your nephew has pitched an idea to me that we intend to discuss more at-length soon." The woman sighs, though from relief or relaxation is anyone's guess. That firm stare certainly does not bespeak a degree of comfort, despite her conversational resonance. "How are you?" The tapping against her glass ceases.

"Lord Yuri, have you had a chance to meet Princess Keely yet?" Nurie's introduction is smooth, with a genuinely warm smile for the Princess and her cousin both. She returns his greeting affectionately. "Perhaps before the evening is done, you might also offer a dance, if she'd like?" She grins at Keely. "Lord Yuri will be even less likely to accidentally step on your toes than I," she promises her mischieviously, though at least while she might be tall, she looks like she's very lightweight, so any toe mashing probably won't be too terribly painful. "I'm so pleased that it's such a large gathering for the opening night, dear one," she says to her cousin. "And happy birthday. I think you--I think all of us are very very proud of you."

Just as Medeia's fingers are about to close around her new glass, one of the servers whispers something to her and gestures toward the door. Her lips press thin, casting a regretful look around the room, but she heads out quietly - drawing as little attention as possible.

"Not every party can handle a fight." Baelos agrees soberly. Or sober-ish as he waves down another drink. He has clearly made some room for Alessia to square off against Gabriella, "By all means...!"

"Good evening. An honour to meet you, My Lord. And thank you for hosting such a delightful evening," Keely bids politely to Yuri, if a tad stiffly. "Your cousin has been taking very good care of me," she adds with a smile for Keely. To the matter of a dance, she blushes ever so slightly, but nods. "I would be honoured." She's not too worried for her toes, it seems. "You've done a wonderful job here," she notes, looking around again.

Yuri glanced along to Nurie with a smile before motioning to Keely, chuckling a bit as he offered a bow of his head before gesturing forth with the customary Lycene greeting, from cheek to cheek. "I had not, cous, but I am glad I have! A fond evening to your, Princess Keely. I do have some rounds to make though I would be happy for the chance. Though, my cousin does not give herself proper credit. She has rule of the dance floor if she so chooses to." His eyes settled on Nurie with a smile, "Ah, thank you so much, cous. I had almost forgotten; I trust I may have even been working through it that I barely knew it came and went. Unfortunate that the Marquis had pressing business this eve. But I am sure he would be tickled surprised."

Medeia has left the a reflective dance floor.

Klavdiya, who is definitely a handmaiden and not a pirate, Fluffy, the wary wildcat, 2 Eswynd shieldbearers, Loryk, a cocky but amiable reaver leave, following Medeia.

Yuri has left the a reflective dance floor.

Rising from her seat to take her place opposite to Gabriella, Alessia removes her cloak draping it behind her to allow unrestricted movement. "What kind of parties can handle a fight?" She asks with a wry smile. "I'd say beach parties if I were to guess. Seems like a great place for one."


*** Alessia has called for an opposing check with Gabriella. ***
Alessia checks strength and athletics at easy. Alessia is successful.
Gabriella checks strength and athletics at easy. Gabriella is successful.
*** Gabriella is the winner. ***

"He would," Nurie agrees. "But that just means you'll have to dream up another gathering when he has an open spot on his schedule. I hope that you'll be able to meet Marquis Gaspar and Marquessa Sabine soon as well, your highness!" She grins at Yuri. "Do not let us keep you from your rounds, though." She bows her head to Keely. "Shall we? I think there's a little time to find a good place before the next set!" In truth, she does seem to be rather excited about the dancing, not unlike a youngster who's been permitted to stay up for the grownup part of the party.

Nurie has joined the a reflective dance floor.

Gabriella studies Alessia, not daring to look away from the Lycene while preparing for the next match. "Lowers parties, too. Even if you are a silk or not, they tend to be quite tolerant." She comments, falling silent for the moment to use both weight and technique in order to gain some leverage, building up until she is confident enough to go all in. "Good," She smiles to Alessia, "You did well, too. That will look nice on my record."

Yuri parted gently from the pair as they took to the floor before he spotted along Scylla perched about a pensive Aedric. The lord settled off to the pair with a smile, bowing his head toward Aedric respectfully, "Lord Blackshore, a good evening to you. Have you been rather tended to this evening? Anything I can offer or recommend to you, my lord?" He glanced to Scylla with a smile, canting his head.

"Of course. Another time then," Keely bids, seeming a touch self-conscious but not hurt that the host has other duties. To meeting Gaspar and Sabine, she nods eagerly. "Yes, that would be wonderful," she agrees genuinely. "They sound lovely." She offers a nod of farewell to Yuri, and then turns to Nurie. "Since it's too late to back out now, yes, let's go get a good spot on the floor," she agrees with a grin.

Resting her elbow on the table, Alessia clasps hands with the princess and though it's a struggle between them, she eventually succumbs to her opponent's strength. She chuckles when her arm is pressed down. "You keep a record?"

Yuri. The institution's proprietor. This much he had gleaned from a pair of unruly and surprisingly well spoken stevedores outside of a tavern near the city harbor. At her mention of the food being physicially taxing, he permits his gaze to drop downward and briefly skim over the woman's frame. "You remain breathtakingly beautiful, Baroness Stormblood, and I sincerely doubt that a week of exploratory appetizer tasting will change that," the sailor asserts, confident in his disposition. "I am admittedly unfamiliar with the aforementioned legate, but involving the Faith in your mission is administratively sound. Romulius is a good man. Intelligent, strong, loyal. Whatever his proposition, I am sure it will benefit you and the denizens of Tresova immensely." Speak of the devil. Attention shifts to the Lord Tessere, who is offered a polite dip of chin in greeting. "No, my lord, but I am appreciative. This place you have built is truly breathtaking. A monument to your culinary and architectural tastes."

"Hate to miss out on the secrets, but I must be off." Baelos glances toward someone near the door in Redrain livery just as Gabriella bests Alessia. "Until next time!" He wanders back out through the crowd, leaving without breaking a single thing!

Baelos has left the a set of luxurious sofas.

Nurie laughs, at Keely's comment, though the tone is inclusive and warm rather than mocking. "It gets easier every time!" she assures the princess, of the dancing amongst strangers. "You'll have to come to the next masquerade that House Tessere hosts!" she decides. "I mean, if you'd like. There's nothing quite like it! There's just something about a mask that lets people relax just a little, and be a little more bold." She weaves her way through the crowd, with Keely in tow, looking for a good spot that isn't totally in the corner, but also will provide a little more shelter than those wanting to hog the spotlight might seek.

"Certainly, otherwise I wouldn't know that I still have to beat him twice." Gabriella gestures at Baelos, turning her glass of whiskey so that she empties it all at once. "I should also get going now, but I hope we'll meet again soon." She bows politely to Alessia, turning to wave at Tyche on her way out.

Gabriella has left the a set of luxurious sofas.

"You promise?" Keely asks Nurie, but with a sense of humour to her tone. She's being silly and she knows it. "A masquerade? Oh yes, that sounds like a great idea," she agrees enthusiastically. "I can imagine how the anonymity would... help." Help her too, she hopes. For now, though, she puts her faith in Nurie, letting the other woman choose a good spot for them, but then nodding in approval of the one she's picked. "Yes, this is perfect."

Yuri bowed cordially to Aedric at the praise, "Why thank you, my lord. Truth be told, I was not planning on anything of a venture of this magnitude. A rather poignant conversation with the Baroness here made some lingering doubts all but wash away. And so began an arduous process of what this place should be. There is much more work to be done, but I am more than thrilled with what has been built. And if I could?" A finger gestured to a singular entry, the carbonara, "If you are looking for a rather succulent, flavorful meal, I would go with the carbonara. A delicious cream sauce is accentuated with the bits of smoked ham scattered about the plate."

"I promise," Nurie says in a solemn tone, though there's a twinkle in her eye, as the music starts. "Especially if you have a half a glass of wine between them! Mmmm, or maybe a quarter," she amends. She easily slips into the role of lead, as the music starts, guiding the pair gently around the floor. Her steps are not flashy--she's much more concentrating on ensuring that her partner's glamorous gown can twirl and flow if desired, especially when they pass by some of the mirrored sparkles on the floor, cast down by the light from the chandelier. Admittedly, it's a little playful, perhaps aimed to put a further smile on Keely's face rather than trying to be the most elegant. But there is definitely joy and encouragement in the baseborn woman's smile as she does so.

Keely is overheard praising Yuri.

Alessia is overheard praising Yuri.

Aedric is overheard praising Yuri.

Nurie's attempts seem to work, for Keely starts off hesitant and awkward but soon relaxes into the dance, smiling with more confidence as she catches sight of herself in the mirror. By the time the dance is done, she feels like a proper courtier, as evidenced in the way she holds herself with much greater comfort. From there, she seems considerably more at ease as she enjoys the remainder of the evening.



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