Martinique has joined the cushion-covered seating.

Savanna, 2 House Velenosa Guards arrive, following Avaline.

The mood of the ballroom of La Rosa (formerly the Pravus estate) is warm and inviting, and the merriment in the air is obvious. Those of Lyceum and the Saffron certainly know how to throw a party!

Tyche, resplendent in her steelsilk flames, sweeps in on the arm of Leonel, her newly minted Marquis-consort. There's a wide smile at her face, a flush to her normally pale cheeks. She scans those gathered, lifting her free hand, the new dragonweep ring catching the light, and waving here and there. "Welcome! Eat, dance, drink, make horrible choices to combat this very sensible one we made tonight," she encourages with a hint of wicked humor to her tone. She digs her fingers into Leonel's arm in a squeeze, and murmurs something to him, before moving through the crowd. She stops first at the man who helped make tonight possible. "Lord Yuri, this looks absolutely stunning. I do hope everyone sees how you've brought this place to life."

Rupert, the Laurent Archivist, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Laurent veteran guards arrive, following Cristoph.

Deva is sitting somewhere with Alantir and -really- digging into her bowl of wedding soup. "Gods, I think I might have missed this the most," the only-temporarily-that-one-time-Lycene holds her spoon like it's her most treasured possession at the moment. Otherwise, she sits properly and even looks put-together with nice hair and a snazzy green dress that reveals a heap of scars, but otherwise she looks like she tried to look nice! The spoon is only put down long enough to applaud as the newlyweds arrive.

Nimue has joined the cushion-covered seating.

Avaline has joined the cushion-covered seating.

For those taking note, Sebastian showed up only a quarter of the way through the ceremony; by his normal standards that's practically early. It means he's here for dinner on time, and seemingly intent on enjoying the excellent Saikland wine, though he is distracted by the fox-shark thing that decorates the newly wedded couple's table. "Would it be a foark, or a shox?" that seems to be directed to whomever happens to be closest to him at the dining table.

Avaline gets Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Ember, Bloody Baroness of Redreef etc., has arrived with two dates. One of them is her cousin, Lady Nimue, and one of them is her general, Martinique Barlinnie. It's not quite on the level of 'mom as prom date' but it does seem a bit telling that she's constantly attending these things with dates who are either employed by or related to her. She looks at each of her escorts: to the left, at Martinique, and then to the right and up, up, up at the shamelessly tall Nimue. "We'll congratulate the happy couple after the initial rush," she decides aloud, right around the moment she spies Saverio sitting on some comfortable chairs -- and begins making her way over toward the Uncle of the Bride.

Martinique gets Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Sebastian gets Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Ember takes Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Cassimir takes Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Stefano, an inconspicuous Lycene bodyguard, Carmela, a gleaming dusken-feathered crow, Ambra, a plain-faced Lycene scribe arrive, following Mirella.

Nimue gets crate of Saikland wine.

Nimue drops crate of Saikland wine.

Deva has joined the a set of luxurious sofas.

Cristoph has joined the a set of luxurious sofas.

Stefano, an inconspicuous Lycene bodyguard have been dismissed.

Carmela, a gleaming dusken-feathered crow have been dismissed.

Ambra, a plain-faced Lycene scribe have been dismissed.

Seated near Cassimir and Yuri with Prince Sebastian not far off, Gaspar smiled at the arrival of two very familiar faces. In the midst of drinking a glass of the finest Lenosian Red (because ritual changed for NO ONE), the marquis nodded to follow the compliment from Tyche. "Indeed, my Lord. This is beyond what even I could have anticipated. Simply gorgeous." He leaved back comfortably in his chair and glanced to Cassimir, that friend from so long ago with a quick smirk before nudging the man's own glass of wine closer toward him.

Deva gets Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Nimue gets Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Caprice gets Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Courting a glass of wine in one hand and Tyche with the other, his spirits are high. A broad, and pleased smile is never far from his lips -- especially when the redhead's comment to the crowd lands. "Within reason. The walls /do/ need to remain standing once we're done here." He gets this message out, just, as a growley rumble of laughter sticks in his throat, refusing to budge. Some discreet words are passed along to him and he responds in kind, lips murmuring just the final few words before they're upon Yuri and Leo's arm is soon thrusting about the man's shoulders to reel him in with a /yank/ to drag him closer, all but immediately. "You've outdone yourself, and I appreciate every last ounce of effort. But you already know this, I suspect. It never hurts to hear it again and again, though, hm?"

Gaspar gets Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

A person that arrives in a very timely fashion and not late at all to any of the things, because that wouldn't be polite or proper is Cristoph. He skims the outer edges of room, careful to steer clear of the influx of guests as well as the honorable hosts. He finds a place to sit that's on the other side of Deva and leans forward so that he can comfortably converse with both her and Alantir as they work through eating dinner. And drinking. As he takes his seat, his slides something across the surface of the table to the Redrain princess and murmurs quietly while his eyes sweep the room.

Martinique first makes her way to find the food after glancing at the menu. Sea bass it seems it shall be. This she will carry to the cushioned seating area with Ember and Saverio, settling herself down to eat, and also snagging a glass of wine from a passing servant. It truly is a party: a day without rum.

Even with most of the new furniture set and adornments strewn about the ballroom in spectacular fashion, Yuri Tessere still seemed to be hounding along to ensure all had been stocked for the evening and was going swimmingly. With only minimal sweat on the brow. The lord and proprietor had been flanked by several staff members, all adorned in rich amethyst silks to stay within theme of the room's decorations. Orders were gently conveyed as Yuri's hand waved abound to the bar, to the stage, to the tables. Back to the kitchens. And if on cue from the waft of his finger, dining attendants began filing into the room with pitchers, trays, and glasses. With business taken care of, he made his way to sit.

There was more than a moment offered to spy Marquessa Inverno's approach. A smile was offered before he issued a gentle Lycene greeting cheek to cheek before bowing his head to Tyche. "Guided by your hand, marquessa." A smirk was offered to Gaspar, canting his head, "If anticipation was a guessing game, wait until you see upstairs. The East as it least finished." And then off toward Leonel swiftly after. The look in his eye sang that he most certainly did know this. Yuri nodded, "No, it never does hurt to hear again. Congratulations, my friend."

Alantir observes Deva with what could best be described as academic curisoity, his expression completely devoid of judgment and attention fixed entirely upon that spoon as it repetitively shovels bite after bite from the bowl to companion's mouth. "It's good soup, then?" he inquires, lips finally curling into a wide smile. And then Cristoph sits, a welcome addition to the table. "Good evening, Duke Laurent. We have not yet paid our respects to the bride and groom, but will likely be doing so shortly." It was an open invitation.

Cassimir is perfectly content to sit at one of the tables decorated to the purpose of the celebration, his hands resting palm-down atop the surface and green eyes reflection the splendor of the La Rosa's ballroom. "I, too, would like to thank you for making my cousins' night complete. All of your efforts are thoroughly appreciated, Lord Yuri." A glass of Violamara is resting untouched within arm's reach, though that fast is broken the moment Marquis Gaspar slides it toward him, and just in time for the couple of the evening sweep through the doors, making their first appearance since speaking their vows. His right hand reaches to cup the bowl of his glass and lift it in a silent toast to both Yuri /and/ their newlywed status, though his eyes eyes shift, squinting with suspicious quality, toward the marquis seated at his side. "What mischief will we get into, tonight? Surely, we cannot ignore the bride's wishes." A sip is consumed thereafter.

There's a wedding to celebrate, and wine to drink - which Medeia is not going to say is the most important part of the evening, but she's looking forward to it, which means that the Lady Eswynd arrives with Haakon at her side. "Marquessa! Marquis," she greets the couple, giving a quick wink to Leonel, "Congratulations, you both look wonderful, I think you could kill someone with that ring." Her eyes widen as she sees Tyche's ring, then a musical laugh passes her lips. A quick glance around finds plenty of familiar faces, and unsure where to settle, she seeks out a glass of wine first.

Mirella has joined the an elegant dining table.

"The walls here have withstood far more than any party we might throw, Marquis," Tyche reminds the man at her arm, using his new title with an amused flair. When Leonel is physically drawing Yuri close, the petite redhead laughs and takes a small step to separate herself, if only to avoid any collateral damage. "Lord Yuri, I would happily guide you on many more adventures, if the results are always this fabulous." A compliment for herself and him on that one. Added benefit! She turns at hearing Cassimir's voice, and she escape Leonel for a moment to squeeze her cousin in a hug, her lips brushing his cheek. "Cass. I expect you to cause /much/ mischief." She overhears Sebastian's remark, and with a laugh and a hand cupped to her mouth to carry to him, "A shox, your highness! A foark is... no. No." The laughter dies down as Medeia speaks, and she smiles to the woman. "Thank you for your efforts, and congratulations on your children." She looks to Haakon, "And to you as well."

"It's SO good." Deva reaches for Alantir's spoon to give it to him, and then slides what's left of her bowl toward him to try. "Try it, then please order another one because I want more?" she requests in her most polite tone. She still grips her spoon though, and she may never let it go. Sorry Yuri. As Cristoph slides her something, she is completely incapable of hiding the surprise all over her face. Gawking and staring and bending a bit to get a better look, she then leans closer to the Duke to whisper something while gesturing very broadly with her spoon. Hopefully there's no one that comes up behind her during this, because they might accidentally get smacked.

Avaline has not been in a full gown since perhaps her own wedding, and the lack of any kind of armor--whether a heavily boned corset or her actual cuirass, feels a little odd being around so many people. Still, there is a kind of muscle memory for these kinds of events as she takes some of the offered wine. Her eyes scan the magnificent ballroom, and she finds a comfortable place to perch on the cushion-covered seating with a few others.

Caprice slips in, collecting and tucking away the souvenir to mark her attendance before stepping aside to take in the scene. The people within are given the same interested, appreciative attention as the decor, and soon the woman is moving towards the newly married couple in order to join the line of well-wishers paying respects.

"You do seem to have a skill at decoration, Lord Yuri," Sebastian adds to the compliments to the host, "Though I confess I find it passing strange to be here, knowing what this room looked like before, and all the things that were done here." The Pravosi's gaze goes distant a moment, pushing to his feet to blow a kiss towards Tyche as she laughs. Or maybe it's towards Leonel, given he adds, "Welcome to the fealty, Marquis Leonel." Lowering back down into his seat, he turns his gaze to Cassimir, leaning towards him, "Lord Cassimir. It's been far too long. We have a conversation as yet unfinished; you should come by the estate now that winter no longer has a hold."

"I'll watch your seats while you go and do that. These are very good ones and it would be terrible for you to lose them," Cristoph replies to Alantir as he stretches his legs out underneath the table. He's careful not to kick anyone else that they happen to be sitting with. He fails in this and does briefly touch the foot of a person he's never met, the Oathlander offers the stranger an apologetic smile! Whoops. He watches as Deva's spoon goes waving around and their conversation once again drops again to a quiet affair, his head shaking back and forth and his smile lopsided, half present.

"My dear Lord Cassimir, I could begin to guess passes for 'mischief' among such a group as this. Let's start with seeing just how much wine I can sneak into you first and then we'll see what sort of chaos we can conjure." Gaspar smiled again and took another sip, looking over the nearby bottle of Saikland wine as though he might use it for cooking or something. There were so many familiar faces about, some not seen for a long while. No doubt due to that damnably cold winter that indeed did not have a hold as Sebastian noted.


It wasn't so much a misunderstanding as an eagerness to celebrate her first wedding in months that led to what Nimue's pointedly going to remember as a 'polite misunderstanding' surrounding the wine and how much of it she's allowed to drink.

'Open bar' means OPEN, and she'll die by those words, whether they apply here or not.

Unlike her usual mix of stylish, moderately reserved gowns and bespoke rider's attire, Nimue's opted for a deep violet gown with a diagonally plunging neckline and matched leg-slit surely inspired by her cousin. Her date; her Baroness, the woman whose lap she's throwing long, long (, long) legs across upon returning from her first pass around the refreshments.

"Ember's /lucky/," she chirps after a quick swig straight from the one bottle she managed to walk away with, "to have a friend as diligent as you."

One confidently silent beat later, she adds:

"... what'd you diligently do, again?" in a conspicuous whisper as she leans towards Severio.


With his eyes cast out upon the veritable sea of familiar faces, there's one that stands out, most assuredly. "Gaspar." Wherever he is, Leo's trip there is quick, upon a sprightly gait that drags Yuri along for the ride. Tyche had removed herself from the equation momentarily and so, there's a free arm to be thrown about Gaspar's shoulder wildly with a rough clapping strike, fingers squeezing into his brother's shoulder to yoink him in, too. "It's good to see you, it's been a while -- too long, in fact. Thank you for coming." Medeia's greeting doesn't go missed and upon hearing that voice, Leonel's eyes are searching out for her with a flit and bounce, until it lands upon the woman, his smile bright, and excitement gleaming in the hazel that regards. "Lady Medeia, you've made it. And congratulations to you in return, for the healthy twins."

Of course the blown kiss was meant for Leonel, why wouldn't it be? Look at the way he's dressed. Look at that mug. It's his wedding, and so there's an eager smack of his lips to Sebastian in return, the man's broad shoulders rocking with a restlessness as a laugh burgeons in his chest. "Thank you, too, your highness."

Mirella arrives without any fanfare and without any noise, as per usual. Dressed in green silks and sporting loose ash-blonde locks, she presents a less striking sight than she'd be with her normal white hair and contrastingly dark attire. Without even asking if she's welcome, or if she's not supposed to be heading that-a-way, she walks over to the elegant dining table, where she dips into a perfect greeting curtsy first to Tyche and Leonel, then to the others assembled nearby. Then it's time to take a seat. She dips a small nod to Cassimir, smiling in a distracted but pleasant-enough kind of way.

Kalb, the chill bodyguard arrives, following Nisaa.

Patrizio takes Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Yuri seemed to take quite the load off as he settled down into his chair, rather close to Cassimir. A heavy sigh was issued with some faint glimmer of exhaustion before his fingers found some manner of lifeblood in the wine, bringing rim to lips to reinvigorate. A glance was offered to Cassimir with a smile, "I was approached with a task and I could not possibly say no. I do not think this is your first time at La Rosa, is it?" There was a head-tilt toward Sebastien with a smile, bowing his head gently, "Your Highness, a pleasure to see you again. I...figured it would be but I have had the Marquessa ear on what was to be remodeled with care in tact. There was respect in the remodel, I assure you. Anything my crews had found belonging to Pravus shall be returned in kind." Gaspar was afforded a snicker before masking the expression with a long pull of his wine glass.

Patrizio is channelling his inner Sebastian as he finds his way into the ballroom, not an impression at all that there's anything amiss when he's looking about, the play of a smile finding his lips at the scene that's unfolding within. His hand rises to briefly stroke through that fabulous mane of his as he's making his way further in, the turn of those jade eyes this way and that to see where familiar faces might be lurking, as well as perhaps to figure out where the bride and groom have gotten to, so that he might give his regards.

Yuri takes Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

Avaline smiles at Martinique, brought out of the haze of the event. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to perch without a word, it's been some time since I've been able to attend such a grand event. The fashion alone is enough to take my breath away." She raises her glass of wine to cheers both her and Ember. "Princess Avaline Velenosa, formerly of the House Igniseri. I'm afraid I've only been in Arx but a week now. Still finding my feet again."

Ember seems unfazed by having a six-foot-three woman's legs across her lap. Without missing a beat from her conversation with Saverio, she reaches down and adjusts those giant legs to be more comfortable. For Ember, that is. Looking over at Martinique, Ember takes a discreet glance at the woman's plate and then makes eye contact with a server, signaling 'that, give me that.' Shortly, she will have both sea bass and wine. "...was that meant to be my birthday present, Lord Saverio?" Ember asks, returning her attention to the Inverno seated next to her. "After all, you certainly wouldn't have forgotten my birthday."

There's a joyful laugh from Sebastian and a wink to the newly minted Inverno, as he lifts his glass in toast to the new groom... and bride, of course. "Oh, not to worry, Lord Yuri. We took all that was of value to us," he assures Yuri with ease, "And I'm eager to see what else you've done with the place. Perhaps you'll even let me find my old suites later...?" he looks full of anticipation, sitting upwards, though he turns his gaze to Mirella as she joins the group. "Messere Mirella. It's been far too long."

Tyche watches the exchange between Sebastian and Leonel, a laugh quick to follow. She reaches out a protective hand to press to the new-Marquis's chest, shielding him from the Pravosi prince. "Keep your wiles to yourself, Bas!" She turns at Mirella's entry, the same hand leaving Leonel vulneral and reaching out a hand to squeeze the small woman's arm. "I'm so glad you made it. You've been there since the start of my adventure here in Arx, so it is essential that you would be here." She turns survey the other guests, spying Ember, Martinique, Avaline, Nimue, and Saverio all gathering around the luxurious couches. It is the last she focuses her attention on, her smile widening as she invites, "Uncle Saverio, how wonderful you made it." And then to the others, "Baroness Ember, and all, thank you for attending. Enjoy the food."

"In a moment," the knight murmurs, returning the spoon to her bowl and scooting to the end of the booth, "and thank you, Cristoph. I will return momentarily," he concludes, rising to feet and wandering in the direction of the line forming near the Marquessa and her new husband. He is adorned in platemail (because of course he is, he doesn't know better) but thankfully has recently seen to its polishing -- making the rubicund semi-presentable and (maybe?) appropriate for the celebration. Whenever Leonel and Tyche afford the prince a moment, he dips his chin respectfully and offers his gauntlet to either of the pair to shake. "Congratulations, Marquessa Inverno. And to you, Leonel. We wish you all the best in your union, and a lifetime of happiness and prosperity," Alantir announces, the words as stupidly sincere as one would expect from a Valardin. The "we" here seems to be a reference to Deva and Cristoph.

Martinique eats with decent manners but always seems just shy of wolfing her meals down. She's done with her own food by the time Ember has finished making her request, and passed the plate off in turn to focus on yes, the very good wine. Which she plans to consume a lot of. "A week eh? Yes, this place can be rather dizzying. It's quite a contrast to when I have to go back out to the Isles to deal with matters there. Were you traveling?" She pauses on the question as Tyche approaches, and gives a respectul sort of seated half-curtsey. "Thank you for the party, Marquessa."

Ember offers Tyche a reserved smile (because that is how Ember smiles). "Marquessa. I'm not sure you've been properly introduced: my cousin, Lady Nimue Redreef." Ember pats the thighs on her lap. "And my infantry commander, Martinique Barlinnie." She motions toward Martinique in time for the seated half-curtsy thing. Then she glances at Avaline. "...and another person, with whom I believe /I/ am not acquainted."

That Sebastian is with the couple makes it all the easier for Patrizio to find his way over to them, the grin spreading across his features as he joins the group. "Bas, I thought it's long since passed from being your job to be a corruptive influence. Especially since it'll be years before you can teach your son to take up that role," comes the general's voice with all the mock seriousness that he can muster, even as he's just slowly, slowly shaking his head. And a laugh, because he can't really help himself. "Marquis, Marquessa, all of my congratulations on your wedding day. I hope the gods shower all possible happiness on you both."

Cassimir stands to his full height to accept Tyche's hug with uncharacteristic zeal, and his voice, while typically monotonous in its verbal delivery, is filled with an inflection that betrays his own brand of mirth for her marriage: muted. "I am very happy for you, cousin. He is a good man, a perfect addition to the family. I may even allow him to hug me tonight," he adds on with a straight enough face that the humor may slip past anyone lacking familiarity with him. When that is done, he side steps and does, in fact, lean into a side-hug with the newly-minted Marquis of House Inverno, and a murmured exchange allows him to say, "Welcome to the family, cousin." It's a brief embrace, and imbued with as much physical camaraderie as he can muster for the nonce, and then it's back to mingling with those seated at his table. After easing back into his chair and scooting himself in, eyes first rest upon Prince Sebastian, to whom he replies with warmth to say, "Yes, I believe we do. I apologize for not stopping in sooner. With my own wedding behind me and my enlistment in affairs involving Lady Brigid's...former estate...I have found myself rather tied up. I will be sure to call on you in soon, your highness." It is a promise sealed by an affirmative nod of his head. To Lord Yuri, Cassimir replies with a contradictory shake of his head. "No, I'm afraid I have not. It's truly luxurious. I'd like to take a tour about when we're not otherwise engaged." At last, Cassimir is free to address Marquis Gaspar, though only after a smile of greeting is shared with Mirella, who has just joined the table. "You are welcome to try, but I must warn you that my tolerance for alcohol has increased considerably since I first arrived in Arx all those years ago. You'll have your work cut out for you." Now, he plucks up his wine glass again to sip from its side, as though to initiate the challenge.

"It was -a- present," Lord Saverio Inverno assures Ember, "But not -the- present. That, of course, had to wait until I could present to you in person. I would rather be late than crass." The man has few visual tells in his expression, with just a hint of a smile curving at his lips that doesn't quite touch his cool brown eyes. He then head tilts towards Nimue, "I'm going to trust her assessment on matters of the Bloody Baroness' luck."

It seems Nisaa arrived to the festivities a bit late, but she arrives nonetheless, a vision in pinks and purples. With grace, she steps inside and takes a look around the grand and beautiful ballroom, a delicate smile upon her lips as she takes it all in. After getting her bearings, she makes her way to the bride and groom, giving them a gentle curtsy in greetings, when she is sure she will not interrupt. "My congratulatings to you both on your marriage. I shall hope it will be a fruitful union for your houses." At that, she smiles towards Prince Sebastian, a small curtsy to him as well.

Gaspar rose at the approach of his brother and smiled all the more, wrapping the man up into a tight hug. "Congratulations, Leo. Now, let's out-marquis all the rest, hmm?" He gave Leonel a firm squeeze to the shoulder as well before settling back down into his seat. His gaze cut to the side as Yuri snickered and he grinned all the more before nudging his cousin-in-law lightly in the ribs. He caught a glance of a once-familiar smile and lifted a hand in wave. "Princess Avaline, cousin. Wonderful to see you again after so long." Gaspar dipped his head toward the light-haired beauty. And once more to Cassimir with a soft chuckle. "No doubt the influence of the marquessa and gang." Again, his sip came easily and long, content and enjoying such a fine evening.

Alantir has joined the a set of luxurious sofas.

Cristoph is reading through a letter that was recently handed to him by his assistant. It briefly looks as if he might request Rupert give him something to write with, but then Alantir is standing. He seems to remember where he is, "If anyone takes your seat, Prince Alantir? I will challenge them to a duel over such an act." Will he? Maybe not. If that cheerfully joking tone is any indication. After the words are spoken, he smooths his hand across the page and continues with that quietly exchanged conversation with Deva. His finger taps against the page and after another moment's hesitation, "Rupert? Can you find me something to write with," he asks the man, something entering his expression that's not just well entertained party guest.

Nisaa gets Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.

"Recovering at my home in Granato from two adorable 9-month long parasites. And then some," it's a joke made in good humor and a crooked smile. "I've seen very little of the isles, but my mother used to tell me brief anecdotes when she'd talk of her travels--how do you find it here in contrast?" She bows her head and simultaneously raises a glass to the bride. "Radiant, breathtaking and truly a jubilant occasion, Marquessa." And in doing so catches Ember's glance. Her half smile widens at Ember's predicament. "Avaline Velenosa, it's a pleasure, please, don't get up."

Mirella turns another smile to Sebastian, pairing it with a gracious nod. "I was thinking the same, Prince Sebastian. It's very good to see you again." To Tyche she turns, then, the smile renewed and made just a little brighter, fonder -- though not to such an extent as to make her friendly gesture to Sebastian seem unenthusiastic by comparison. "It's been a pleasure and an honour to be with you. I'm glad to be here." She pats the Marquessa's hand, giving it a small squeeze, then relinquishes the grip so that Tyche can move on. Finally, another smile and dip of her head to Leonel. "And glad for both of you." Then it's back to watching the party-goers, taking in all the finery of their clothing and the room in which everyone has gathered.

Nebulosa arrives, following Volya.

Yuri chuckled toward Sebastien with a cant of his head, "I had figured as much. Nothing but some old cloth that we had found on cleaning of some of the wardrobes. Nothing to cause immediate concern." Nonetheless, he bowed his head at the reassurance. The prince's inquiry had Yuri raise a brow with an airy chuckle, "But of course. On principle, I keep the West Wing closed as we are not so ready to unveil the suites there but the East Wing is outfitted with a few necessary pieces to make La Rosa an entertainment venue. Some may have names, but are hardly finished to my liking." Cassimir's confession had Yuri turn his head with a start, mouth slightly agape, "Oh, I would protest if you did not. But more a smirch on my hospitality if I did not commit to tour for you." Yuri tried to escape that elbow nudge from Gaspar, reaching along to give the Marquis a hearty pat and squeeze of shoulder.

Deva narrows her eyes and takes her bowl back, so she can eat what's left of the soup as Alantir rises. While she finishes the last of it, she mumbles a few words to Cristoph between bites. Her expression is mildly puzzled and concerned, brows lifted higher. And higher. Until they sink and crinkle together, and she -finally- puts the cutlery down to reach for a napkin and dab the corners of her lips while formulating a low response.

Mirella gets Inverno-Velenosa wedding wine - Violamara from crate of Saikland wine.


As Martinique finishes her plate off, she finds a wine bottle thrust in her direction, courtesy of an attentive Nimue.

An attentive, broadly beaming Nimue with small roses blooming in her cheeks who promptly flashes that smile towards the Marquessa, just in time to be introduced. After dipping her head in acknowledgement, she remarks, "I'm sure that /I/ would've remembered such an introduction, so let's go with 'nice to meet you; charmed," then does the best curtsy that a tipsy woman who's sitting with her legs draped across another woman's lap can manage. "I appreciate your hospitality! I /love/ weddings."

Beat.

"Most weddings!" she amends as her attention - arching brow and canting head and all - shifts towards Avaline.


Martinique gives a nod and a knowing smile. "Well, congratulations on your twins then, I am told they're a blessing and a curse." She'll raise her glass slightly to Avaline before drinking again. "The Isles are wilder, and less settled obviously--and the ocean is, well, I wasn't raised in the Isles, I came there as an adult and I still remember the first time I saw it. How big it was--" whatever else she was going to say is pre-empted by a wine bottle, which she will accept with a shrug, upend for a goodly moment, and then return to the tallest Redreef. There are more where that came from.

"Alas, your highness," His eyes find Tyche as she diligently moves to intercept. ".it seems as though my wife is going to stand as a bulwark for what's left of my virtue." His grin is crooked now, and the laughter has subsided yet -- it's still just as rich, and booming as ever. "Enjoy the party all the same." Yuri has slipped free from underneath Leo's arm, and so the man seems to have one free, and it's quickly rising to hoist his own glass high in Sebastian's direction. There's a swing of his crown then toward Gaspar to receive the man's words, and one final tight, gripping clench of his arm 'round his brother's frame in the wake of the message. "And so we shall, brother. And so we shall. It's important to me that you're here. Have hte time of your life, hn?" Thusly he relinquishes the clinging grab of Gaspar and turns to Alantir at his approach, with a deep pitch of his head to the armored fellow. "Thank you, Alan. I see you've come to enjoy yourself as well .." Knuckles rap against the rubicund plating, squarely upon Alantir's chest. "You had it patched I see. Recovering still? Recovered? Well, if it's the former, good food and drink here will set you on that path quickly."

Mirella catches his eye and that eager curve still clings to his lips, corners dug into his cheeks. "I'm heartened that you could be here for us. Indulge yourself, please. We won't take 'no' for an answer."

Before she can get that glass of wine, Medeia and Haakon are intercepted by a member of the La Rosa staff, handing off a note. Medeia reads it quickly, sighs softly, and leads Haakon out, making a quiet exit.

2 Prodigal reavers, Mykael leave, following Haakon.

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

"Crap." That's the first word out of Volya's mouth arriving, with newly arrived Sword of Zaffria on his arm. "Look, so Lianne said 'go be Malespero's representative'. Pretty sure she was stuck in meetings all day and couldn't go herself." He takes a look around the ballroom, dressed in that ever present uniform of all-black. From the high collar long coat to the black boots and black gloves, the Confessor certainly looks the role. "I am not good at large functions."

"What?!" Sebastian looks both startled and abhorrant at Patrizio's suggestion, pushing upwards so he can clasp a hand on Patrizio's shoulder for a moment. "That is never /not/ my job, cousin." He eases back as Patrizio greets the couple, turning his gaze back to the table, expression easy at Cassimir's words. "Oh, no need to apologize. I understand very well what it's like to be newly wedded," his smile is bright. "Whenever suits, my lord." It's hard for the Pravosi prince to miss Nisaa's arrival, and his greeting of her is effusively warm. "Darling Whisper Nisaa. Do join us, won't you? Do you know everyone? Mirella, and Lord Cas-- oh, Lord Yuri, that is a shame. My rooms were in the Western Halls, and had the best view of the Gray River. Perhaps," with a tilt of his head, "We can make a deal to give myself first choice at renting it when it is free to do so?"

"Thank you, Mistress Nisaa," Tyche has a bright smile for the Whisper. "Enjoy yourself. I think..." she hazards a glance at her husband, a brow arching in slow question. "We may be at the part of the evening where we dance? And drink. Perhaps both at the same time?" And to punctuate her thought, she scoops a glass from a passing waiter, bringing the wine to her lips with the same zeal Cassimir leapt up to hug her. "Mmm. Perfect. And thank you, Prince Alantir. Thank you, and Princess Deva, and Duke Cristoph." She pauses in her journey to the dance floor further because introductions are being made by Ember. "A pleasure to meet you all, and I promise I will not forget a single face nor a name, no matter how much I drink tonight in celebration of myself," she laughs, and then pauses, a sudden remembrance made. "And Leonel. Myself and Leonel. I'll have to get used to that," she playfully glances toward the man, and then slips toward the floor. Another small pause, however, when she spies Cristoph and his reclined pose reading messages at a wedding. Her lips flicker, but she moves on, drawing Leonel to the reflective dance floor.

Ember lets out a noise not unlike a snort -- maybe some kind of deformed little chuckle -- at Avaline's 'don't get up.' She motions down at Nimue's legs on her lap, just in time for her food and wine to arrive. "Most weddings," Ember agrees with Nimue, like it's some kind of inside joke, and then her eyes turn to Tyche: "This was a truly wonderful ceremony, and I'm sure I speak for my family when I say we feel blessed by the gods for the opportunity to witness it." Ember smiles to Tyche, and that smile holds in place as she turns her eyes to regard Saverio. "I'm here now, my Lord. Right in front of you."

Tyche has left the An adorned table of honor.

Tyche has joined the a reflective dance floor.

Leonel has left the An adorned table of honor.

Leonel has joined the a reflective dance floor.

"You mean to say," Nebulosa replies mildly to Volya's announcement of his own predicament, "that you invited me to join you not as a guest, but as a suit of armor for you to wear to spare you from any incoming expectations of being social." There's a soft laugh that spills from her at that. "How every charming. And poorly thought out, considering it's unlikely that I will recognize a single face among the crowd." There's more, something else she's about to add, but whatever it is? She bites it back, keeping the barb to herself - for now.

Nisaa has joined the an elegant dining table.

Mirella is overheard praising Tyche.

Mirella is overheard praising Leonel.

"I've never been particularly maternal," Avaline admits, taking a deep drink of her wine. She's charmed by Martinque's energy. "Well they sound beautiful," she laughs, catches Ember's snort and she begins to relax further. They may have all been nearly new faces, but there was a familiar jubilance that put her at ease. "Where are you from prior?"

"Yes, a certain Marquis had /no/ influence on my ability to tolerate the effects of alcohol," he retorts dryly, head tilting toward the marquis and the flick of his green eyes betraying his doubt. It is then that the sound of his name captures his attention, and like a cat searching out the source of a sound, the Inverno lord's spine straightens and his neck arches back to rest upon Prince Sebastian, and subsequently, the woman he is being introduced to. "Whisper Nisaa, a pleasure. Lord Cassimir." It is a succinct introduction, but delivered with an air of sincerity. Thereafter, he is content to nurse the new wine in his glass, every so often holding it aloft to observe and appreciate its taste. A letter to Medeia is warranted to congratulate her on the success of her hard work.

"Recovered fully. Enjoy your evening. I would be happy to host you for dinner sometime soon, if you were so inclined!" the Oathlander calls after the pair as they parade toward the mirrored floor, seemingly delighted that they were preparing to celebrate their union with a lovely and likely romantic dance. The knight then pivots upon his heel and returns to the booth, thanking Cristoph for so valiantly defending the empty space in his absence.

Avaline is overheard praising Tyche: Beautiful bride, wonderful hostess, an event I shall never be forgetting

Yuri settled a hand to his chest with a chuckle, nodding his head toward Sebastien, "My apologies. I did not want to have anyone become lost in their exploration of the venue and find themselves wandering into some rather garish construction. I would have been aghast to know if anyone would be hurt on the grounds. But, I dare say, Your Highness, that it would be my pleasure for such an offering. You shall be at the top of the list." A double-take toward the doors leading into the ballroom caught the lord's attention, "Mm, do excuse me a moment?" Yuri then summarily rose to meet the trio of La Rosa servers that wished his audience.

Yuri has left the an elegant dining table.

Patrizio tries to look as if his suggestion to Sebastian was entirely normal, and there's the brief moment where those jade eyes seem very sincere indeed, and as innocent as he really can be. But that's still again ruined by another grin. "Responsibility, cousin-of-mine. Think of the future generation." On the other hand, though, he's also not stealing the glass of wine from before his cousin, and there's the tease of a retreat for a step, and then he's finding himself a seat, since that seems the best answer for the time being as he's weighing what else is afoot about the ballroom.

"*That*," Volya starts, as if sounding indignant before lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. "..is not a completely inaccurate statement. Look, alright, I know, it's kind of," he swerves the two of them out of the way an incoming server that bustles by, "It's kind of true, but we're also both pretty new to the city. Okay, me more than you. You're the one that used to live here. I had thought that maybe y'know, with you being all Iron Guard an whatnot, that you'd know more people. It's only been three years." And yes, he's aware of how that sounds, his sarcasm intentional. A glance at her then. "Oh, I know you want to say it. Let me have it already, I probably deserve it." Beat. "No, I know I deserve it."

"It would be my pleasure, thank you, Prince Sebastian." Nisaa moves in a fluid motion to take a seat at the table. A smile is sent around to the others there. "Good evening to you all. The celebratings of a wedding are always beautiful, but this one, "she says looking around the ballroom, "is especially so." With a small shake of her head, she comments to Sebastian, "I do not believe I wm well acquainted." Looking again towards those present, she smiles and says, "As he mentioned, I am the Whisper known as Nisaa. I am pleased to meet you all." She dips her head towards Cassimir as he introduces himself.

Deva waves at Tyche and Leonel when she hears her name, giving the newlyweds a quick smile. Her attention splis back to Alantir and Cristoph at their table, looking more reserved now that her soup is gone and some other topic has settled in low tones.

Mirella tips a quirky but subtle smile to Leonel. "In that case, I must not refuse. It would be terribly rude of me." However, before wine is sought, she turns her flaxen-crowned head when Sebastian speaks her name. A seeking glance brings her eyes to meet Nisaa's, and thereafter the blonde dips her chin in a nod of greeting. "A pleasure to meet you, Nisaa Whisper. Mirella Fiorelli, minister of upkeep to House Inverno."

"I was only going to say that failing to recognize any faces in the crowd is a feeling you should be familiar with by now." The expression that creep across her face just then is, well... really, if Nebulosa looked any more like the cat that just caught the canary, she'd still have bloody feathers coating her lips instead of the dark crimson stain, more likely from a cosmetics jar. "We should at least offer our congratulations to the couple, on behalf of both our Houses." A beat. "All three of our Houses, really, given that I truly serve as Sword for two."

Whatever Cristoph has gotten himself involved in at his table, it results in Rupert bringing him something to write with. So there he is, in the middle of this grand affair penning some missive to whoever. He hasn't even touched his food and his eyebrows are still drawn into a deep furrow. There are a few quietly uttered remarks and he gets about halfway through his writing and stops, staring down at it with an expression that's concerned. He catches Tyche saying his name, offers a faint smile and nod of acknowledgement and then goes back. The quill touches the paper, he pauses, begins another line and then stops. One hand drags over his face before he drops it. His name is added to the end with a flourish and he sends it out with Rupert. But wait, no. He stops and taps Rupert on the arm, making some gestures and then pointing out to the couple who have moved away.

"I'd be very inclined to visit and eat, yes. Two of my favorite things, your highness. You let me know a date and time that agrees with your schedule...!" The latter half of the conversation is done by way of shouting over the din of the party, as Tyche's abduction has the Oathlinder in shining armor dwindling into the distance, the more she pulls him. There's not /much/ fuss on Leonel's part, aside from the brief pause where he digs his heels in and exchanges an empty wine glass for a fresh one as they pass by a waiter. It's during this time that Deva's greeting catches an eye and there's a bright, and glorious smile that greets her, before the adventure continues. Treading upon the dance floor and stationing themselves in the middle of it in due time, one of Leo's arms stretched 'round the swell of Tyche's hip and lays its palm flat against the curve, before its crawling and creeping up to rest upon her back. The other hand searches out and claims her fingers, to cradle the drink 'twixt their the lock of digits. And thus, he leads the beginning fair few movements of a waltz with his bride, the hazel of his eyes solely reserved for her, from that point onward.

Yuri returned shortly after with servers departing and their fellow staff members returning with trays on carts with piping hot entrees! Platters were settled on each table for each guest to make selections from the menu as fresh wine had been set to each glass in a rather staggering amount of time. Yuri thanked the server that stayed behind, having another side conversation before his head trailed up, seeing Cristoph just within his periphery. A courteous bow was offered toward the trio as he approached, "My lords, my lady. It has been a good stretch of time. How are you all this evening?"

"As I have no children or plans to have any, I understand that." Martinique responds to Avaline. Not everyone is. "I grew up in the Oathlands, domain of Greenwither, it's under Laurent. Very obscure and generally quiet. I wanted a bit more adventure out of life. So now I soldier for Redreef, after a bit of a long way around." Another shrug, another drink. Life takes its path.

Yuri has joined the a set of luxurious sofas.

Saverio moves closer to Ember, reaching into his flowing silk robe to retrieve what looks like a roll of fabric, "You are at that." He leans close to Ember to murmur something into her ear before moving back and saying, "Happy belated birthday, Baroness."

"I deliberately left my future generation safe in the care of his nanny back in Setarco," Sebastian tells Patrizio with a wry smile. "I figure a few years of normal might do him good." Where normal is defined by the Sins of Pravus, anyway. Leaning forward, he splashes more of the Saikland wine into additional glasses, ensuring the new arrivals have them close to hand. "Whisper Nisaa," he adds, with a sidelong smile at the woman, "While modest, is an exceptionally talented dancer. And I shall be sure to steal her for a dance later -- after the happy couple complete their's," with a turn of head that fixes his gaze on the newlyweds with a musing regard.

"I am ever a positive influence at all times, my dear lord." He leaned against Cassimir and never quite met the man's gaze during those few words, but he sipped at his wine all the same and looked out at the newlyweds as they began their first dance together. Far too comfortable was the marquis as he held to his glass and plucked at a variety of fruits and finger foods. He did lean a little closer to the man to drop his voice a bit for a fond, friendly whisper.

"See, mentioning such things encourages me to steal a dance myself, Bas," Patrizio points out, just in case Bas' comment wasn't for his benefit from the get-go, even as he's inclining his head to the whisper. "A pleasure to meet you, because I think we've not yet been acquainted. Patrizio Pravus, if such wasn't apparent." No, with that hair, it might well be, though.

An intentional wallflower for this joyous occasion, observing more than interacting, Caprice does eventually depart again - having not lost anything she came in with. Whether that's a success or a failure depends on one's personal point of view.

Ember is certainly not using Nimue's legs as a makeshift table for her plate of food. No, what she's doing is called 'teamwork,' specifically teamwork between Ember, Ember's plate, and Nimue's legs. She leans in to listen to Saverio, and her dark brows lift. "You are too generous, my Lord. Entirely too generous -- and altogether surprising, as always." Ember has a long drink of wine. "More fool I, for predicting to myself that perhaps you had weddings on the mind, given... all of this."

Deva checks composure at normal. Deva is successful.

Avaline nods knowingly. "I think we are much of the same mind on that. But... Duty, duty... and now with that duty fulfilled I serve the Templars again. Respectfully, my own long way around, I suppose. Do you know the couple personally? I admit I am here to support my House, but only really recognize faces by passing them in the Lyceum."

Leonel's hold on Tyche is made all the more difficult by the fact that they have /two/ glasses of wine now, and she is forced to down her own and place it on some poor waiter's tray so that she might hold his hand (and his glass). She grins up at him, her lashes lifting further to look at the ceiling, with its very reflective mirrors. "We look stunning," she informs him, her smile widening as her lashes drop so she can look at him again. "Shall we?" And then she'll begin their dance, moving easily through the steps, letting the musical notes guide their swaying. They make quite a striking pair tonight, cast in all of the chandelier light.

"A pleasure," Nisaa nods towards Mirella then glances towards Sebastian as he praises her dancing talents. "Prince Sebastian, do be careful. Your words may make it far too easy to embarass myself if I do not live up to them." She smiles in a way that is familiar, kind, but also playful. "I would of course be honored to dance with you."

"You're really never going to let me live that down, are you? Three years, Nebula. I think I'm owed a little slack." Volya gripes in playful way, amused before giving a sigh of registration. Another look out at the crowd. "Yeah, yeah. That's a fair point. Can't really just show up and nope the hell out just because you don't really know anyone. Usually that's not a problem, but ah," he pauses to try and pick out a face he might recognize from the swath of humanity. "Well, just make the best of it I guess. And right, give the newlyweds best regards on behalf of our houses." Pulling aside one of the roaming servers, he asks a questions or two, then getting the pair pointed out to him. "Ah, they're dancing. Looks like we'll have to wait a bit til we can offer our congratulations."

Cassimir leans in to accept the whispered words of his friend, and then sits upright again. Both green eyes gloss over as he considers the question for several seconds, and then, when a suitable response has been formed, the Inverno leans back into that confidential closeness to whisper back.

Martinique gives a ghost of a smile at Duty, the emphasized capital. "I've seen the Marquessa in passing but was only introduced today, and never met the groom. But Ember drags me to these things all the time, and it interesting to meet people from all over the Compact and beyond." She gestures, such as present company. "Have you served with the Templars long?"

"Lord Yuri, good to see you again. Sorry, I'm going to step outside for a few moments." The box that Cristoph had slid across the table to Deva earlier is pocketed. "Later," he offers to both herself and Alantir. And with a final glance afforded to the dance floor, he slips out of the room as quietly he entered it earlier.

Cristoph has left the a set of luxurious sofas.

Rupert, the Laurent Archivist, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Laurent veteran guards leave, following Cristoph.

"That," Sebastian lifts an accusing finger, pointing it at Patrizio, though there's nothing but affection in his voice as he says, "Is exactly why I wish to claim the first, because I know you too well, cousin." He gives a bright laugh, turning fond gaze to Nisaa, "Also: I need to dance before I imbibe too much of this Saikland wine. It's, truly, second only to Setarco's. Will you take a turn around the dance floor too, Mirella?"

Deva looks the very picture of calm as Cristoph departs. She already hopped up from her own seat, but she goes a different path, weaving her way through the tables. It might be hard to tell whether she meant to run right into a server or not, but she does. There goes that bottle of wine, red splashing all over her pale green dress and shoes. "Oh, gosh, I'm SO sorry," she insists, scrambling to help pick shards of glass up in the wake of making an absolute mess while the Duke slips out quietly.

Saverio slowly smiles while holding Ember's gaze, "You know, it didn't leave my mind, though timing has not been easy as of late, and you do deserve an answer." He's silent for a moment, letting it stretch just long enough where it is quite possible he's trying to be vexing, "In case it was not clear, yes, I happily accept your offer, and I have the bride of the day's approval for a pact."

Avaline teeters her hand back and forth. "I suppose it depends what you consider 'long'. A few years. Spent my younger years as a page, and a squire, then finally knighted. Studied strategy..." Her voice trails off as she watches the dance floor. "Tell me, do you dance?"

"You more than I, but.." It's a precarious situation that Leonel finds himself in -- dipping Tyche and trying not to tip over the wine glass in the process. He manages it, though it's not without some great effort nor amusement that booms from his chest, his grin sly now before it breaks 'round the edge of the drink, as he snatches the opportunity to have a sip during the maneuver. ".. I'll muddle through, somehow." When she rises again and the dance continues, his steps are just as spirited and sure as they were before, sneaking the occasional glance upward, his eyes cast upon the mirrored ceiling to watch as they float about upon the floor, and it might just be a miracle as he hasn't led them into any other couples by this point.

There's no attempt this time to look innocent on the part of Patrizio, when his hand drifts out to take up the cup of wine, drawing it to his lips as, for a moment, there's the consideration of Tyche and Leonel dancing out there, enjoying the chance to trip the light fantastic. And then his attention returns to the others at their table. "You need a push sometimes, cousin," he says with affectionate warmth to Sebastian, and there's a tip of his head to Nisaa. And Mirella as well, for that matter. "That's the joy of events such as this - having an opportunity to use footwork for something pleasurable for a change."

Ember checks composure at daunting. Botch! Ember fails completely.

Ember drops her plate of hot sea bass directly into Nimue's lap.


Nimue, in turn, is absolutely not picking at Ember's plate as the toll for being used as a table.

This too is teamwork, and teamwork tastes delicious.

With her recollected wine in one hand and a chunk of bass in the other, the tallest of Redreefs leans forward to chirp, "I'm sure it's nothing less than /perfect/," to Ember and Severio both. The fish gets popped into her mouth and chased by a swig of wine as she leans back--

"Is--"

-- pauses; squints--

"-- is that--"

-- and locks onto the warm, welcome sight of the unexpected.

Now, Ember isn't just a swordswoman; Ember is a master of the blade, a physical specimen in the prime of a life in no small part dedicated to martial excellence.

So, /hopefully/, when Nimue darts to her feet with a squealing, "-- it's NEB, and she's--" battle-hardened reflexes will suffice to keep the fish and the floor from meeting--

Hopefully, Ember doesn't happen to spill her food across her cousin's lap at the /exact/ same time she's--

"-- aaaugh, shit, FUCK!"


Martinique is about to answer Avaline's question when Saverio is speaking to Ember, and then her gaze whips over to the both of them as she grins. And then chokes on a laugh as Ember drops her plate. "Well, congratulations my liege." She'll even slap Ember on the shoulder, fairly hard. The soldier looks back at the princess then. "Yes, though not terribly well. And now there's something to dance for." She's still grinning as she sets her wine aside.

"As soon as you wish, Prince Sebastian, just say the word." Nisaa smiles to him and lifts a glass of wine to take a small sip. "Ah, yes, I can see why you say that. It is divine."

Avaline laughs and stands. "Excellent, and should anyone bring up any complaint, we shall congratulate our missteps on the divine drinks we have been provided in droves.

Cassimir leans away from Gaspar long enough to catch Mirella's watchful gaze, which prompts his skin to color some. A smile is shared with her, but seeing as how they are thus engaged in this private discourse, the Inverno does not do much beyond that.

Ember sits there for a long moment while Nimue is on her feet and yelping swears. Her lips are parted a bit and yellow-orange eyes are nearly vacant -- it's the expression of someone who's just been hit on the back of the head much too hard. She looks up at Nimue, then over at Martinique, then back at Saverio, all with this same stunned, brain-rebooting look on her face. "...good," she says, reaching down to pick up the plate. "It doesn't look chipped." She then stands and begins striding toward the dance floor, with a motion for Saverio to follow. Still looking like she's sort of concussed.

The dance at the floor is wonderfully fluid, wine-carefulness included, but there are several moments that draw Tyche's attention from her new husband. Deva's wine disaster, and then Ember's plate of food in the lap. "I did say go wild tonight, didn't I?" she checks with Leonel, just to make certain. There's only good humor there, apparently very little fazing the Marquessa tonight. She murmurs something quietly to him, just before he spins her away, the flames of her steelsilk sparking in the light. "Thank you, Marquis, for a most lovely dance. Now maybe we should see what all of the commotion is about?" She steps to his side, catching the congratulations that are now being tossed toward Ember and Saverio, both brows lifting, a stage-whisper asking Leonel, "Did my Uncle just steal the show?" She is still amused, but there is a faint hint of plotting to her tone, as if she might make him pay in some manner for this later!

Martinique has left the cushion-covered seating.

Martinique has joined the a reflective dance floor.

Avaline has left the cushion-covered seating.

Avaline has joined the a reflective dance floor.

Sebastian's gaze is mostly on the dancing couple, but it roves to catch the departing Duke briefly, an odd gesture that seems like a toast to no one happening before he downs the remainder of his glass. "I'm glad to hear it," he tells Mirella. "You'll save one for me? Wait," he halts, in the process of claiming another glass. "/I/ need a push?" He eyes his cousin dubiously. The clatter and swearing across the way doesn't even pull his gaze.

Volya just stands there, with Nebulosa on his arm, staring at the slowly rolling chaos. "Huh." he utters at first, having been occupied with talking to the Zaffria Lady with him and had been looking at the exit for a couple looks, but the commotion bring his attention back. "Well. Isn't that something. I mean, guess this wasn't all for nothing. Can't say I've seen a gymnastic display like that in," he looks upward, thinking. "In a long time, at least." He tilts his head at Nimue. "Do...do you know her?"

Even were it possible to miss someone squealing out the name 'NEB' at that particular pitch generally preferred by women who haven't seen one another in far too long, it would be rather difficult to miss Nimue rising at her notably full height, even in a crowded room. Even more so when it's accompanied by vehement swearing and the sound of plates and cutlery and who knows what else crashing to the floor. Whatever it was that Nebulosa had just been murmuring to Volya about, wry humor writing itself across her face, that look of good humor turns first to recognition and then? Horror, that special sort of horror that crosses a person's face when they can see a disaster about to happen, happening, and can do absolutely nothing whatsoever to stop it. "Nimue?!," she started, which becomes a wince. And then, "Ohh, bloody---". Her eyes cut back to Volya. "Please tell me you have a handkerchief or four somewhere in all of that coat, because she's going to need it."

A hand reached over and gave Cassimir's forearm a fond, firm squeeze and pat. There were no more words that needed to be shared in the moment. Besides, the clamor caused by a perfectly prepared dead fish seemed to override the interest of most other things. As did Tyche's allusion to another pending union. A lone, dark brow lofted high as he sat in the deepest of comfort to enjoy a variety of shows for the night.

Martinique rises with a laugh and moves towards the dance floor with Avaline. Once there she is willing to let the princess lead, but doesn't have a strong preference either way. Once there, her expression sobers slightly, to one of concentration; she doesn't dance terribly often and this is apparent quickly. Not so much formal training as natural grace allows her to perform at least. "Do Templars hold parties? Probably not quite at Lycene or god forbid Islander levels eh?"

After patting around the floor with her hands to make sure all the glass has been claimed so no one hurts their feet, Deva plucks a spare napkin from the nearest abandoned plate setting and starts meandering her way back to the table. She picks at her palms, because she has scratched them up something fierce in this process. "My apologies, Lord Yuri. I am so clumsy. I don't know what came over me." This is spoken matter-of-factly rather than with any persuasive tone. "I will happily pay for the bottle and intend to leave a hefty tip for your gracious serving staff." Then she tries to wipe some of the wine off her dress, but she's really just making a worse mess of it. While doing this, she leans to murmur a few words to Alantir.

"What? Like I just carry around a damn towel cabinet in my back pocket?" Volya says, giving a 'are you serious' look in response. But it does cause him to pat himself down. Then pat himself down a bit more, reaching into the pocket of his long coat. Sighing, perhaps ashamedly, he withdraws two, of course, black, hankerchiefs. "Don't say a damn word." he mutters, handing them to her.

".. hm? You said ..?" Leonel is of no use initially, as he's been too busy rubbernecking the first and second disaster. He's helpless to come to anyone's aid and so all he can really do is stare -- and try not to laugh, of course. "You did say that, yes." Tyche's words register at long last and his answer arrives belatedly, before he's calling out in Deva's direction. "We'll handle it, Princess Deva. Don't worry yourself over that. Accidents happen." The smile arranged upon his face doesn't dim, as there's a time where he's trying to search out for her gaze and hold it, to offer some solace to the redhead. Tyche and Leo's dance concluded at some point during all of this but he's not quite certain when, and so the Marquessa's suggestion is met with another late response, with some of that brewing laughter eeking its way out gruffly. "You've been undermined, it seems -- and by your own family. It always does come from where we least expect it."

The touch to Cassimir's wrist was accepted with what amounts to a reserved empathetic smile. "We ought to rectify the fact of our not spending time together in a while, my friend, so that I can find out all the things you've been getting into."

Saverio s arches an eyebrow at the dropped sea bass, sparing a moment to say to Martinique, "I didn't mean to cause a bass based altercation, my apologies." But then he's standing with slow dignity and moving to the dance floor with Ember, while turning to spare what might be a look of contrition towards his niece.

Patrizio gives Sebastian a look back and quietly mouths, "At your wedding," as if he'd forgotten the matter of how long it'd taken for that first dance. No, it'd seem that some cousins never forget these things, and he's looking particularly pleased, even as his attention shifts, listening to the ebb and flow of the conversation while glancing once more to the dancefloor.

Avaline's arms move into a very practiced stance, knowing a waltz can very well depend on a lead, and in this way, she could help guide them from any particularly rough collisions. She's considerably shorter than the other woman but the muscles are practiced and strong enough to provide a strong hand at her back to allow her to lean back into it and keep the proper center. "The trick to a waltz is leaning out for the balance," she explains. "As for the footwork, I assure you that no one will be looking at your feet. "I know we've held tourney's... and of course sermons and such... But to be honest, I'm not entirely sure. Tell me about Islander parties."

After a polite canting of her chin to Patrizio, Mirella releases her glass and places her flattened hand lightly and earnestly over her heart in response to Sebastian's question. She looks to him with a hint of honest satisfaction spreading across her pallid features. "Of course, your highness. I shall look forward to it." With that said, a brief but friendly smile is flashed, and thereafter the hand goes back to the stem of her glass, twisting and turning it over the table. The smile remains when she turns her attention to the rosy-cheeked Cassimir, but the expression ripples with a momentary air of concern. She's back to her usual composyre soon enough, however, before murmuring in admiration. "Tyche's dress is glorious."


"Damnit, Em--" Nimue hisses beneath her breath while trying her best to swipe sea bass remnants from herself and making no move to slow the Baroness from hitting the floor. Whatever prompted-- /that/ clearly runs deep enough that chasing her for an explanation would be an especially great waste of time; it can be sorted out /later/, when she isn't /in the middle of feeling fish grease soaking through to her skin/--

She dares a glance upwards.

When the friend she hasn't seen in /years/ isn't /staring/ at her with her /man/--

Groaning quietly, she drops back into her spot like a stone, knees together and feet splayed. Attempts at clearing fish debris continue, but downing wine to soothe her addled nerves far and away takes precedence. Given maybe ten, fifteen seconds of self-pity, she once again searches out - then attempts to share a look, deflated and annoyed - with Nebulosa.


Ember has left the cushion-covered seating.

Ember has joined the a reflective dance floor.

Ember checks dexterity and performance at normal. Ember is successful.

Yuri started off toward Deva rather quickly, shooing off the attendant that looked absolutely mortified. There was a soft assurance to the woman before he approached and did his best to pick up the pieces of what lingered of the bottle with Deva's assistance, "Oh, no no, your Highness. So long as you are alright? Nothing broken or bruised?" A glance back toward Alantir was given with a gentle smile and a nod before dabbing gently the wet space with a rather large cloth from the nearby bar counter.

Again, as graceful as anything else going on in the room, Gaspar's lift of a wineglass was as smooth as silk while he took another sip and half-smiled to his friend and companion. "At your timing and leisure, my lord. I've missed it greatly."

Once at the dance floor, Ember maintains her million-miles-away stare as she takes Saverio by the hand and leads. She's clearly drilled herself on how to dance, because she gets all the steps right but doesn't quite imbue it with much charm or spirit: the process is mechanical. After a while dancing, she says to Saverio: "Oh. Right. Thank you."

Martinique is a soldier, and so has some skill in taking orders. She leans out a bit, resting her hands on Avaline's shoulders as she joins in the dance. She has done a waltz before, but not many times. Her footwork is recognizably from fencing and as much about avoiding Avaline's feet as following the proper cues of the dance. But who's checking? It's not a contest, just a celebration. "Islander parties are based around rum, rather than wine, and generally are not considered successful if there isn't a stabbing." She exaggerates, a little bit. "A lot of bonfires, a lot of loud, loud singing--sailors are extremely noisy did you know? And a great deal of drunken misbehavior. For all their conservatism, Thrax know how to party."

"Perfection. Nothing to worry about staining, thank you," Nebulosa declares, plucking both handkerchiefs from his hand without the faintest hint of either ceremony or hesitation and begins weaving her way through the crowd towards Nimue, which apparently also means towards a good many other people bearing some version of the Redreef name. Her escort is apparently welcome to accompany her, but Volya is of less pressing concern than a good dress going to waste. If there is unfortunate fish scattered about the floor to dodge or attendants ready to begin clearing it all away as if nothing happened to try not to trip over, well, so be it. "I come bringing reinforcements, dear," comes the Zaffria's pronouncement, precisely as she holds out the black handkerchiefs that aren't hers to give away to begin with.

Moonsilver, the pale-feathered raven arrives, following Raven.

"Would death be too much of a punishment for this slight?" Tyche wonders of Leonel as Saverio passes by, giving her that apologetic look. She's teasing though. Probably. Totally. "I'll think on this some other night," she determines after a moment, turning back into Leonel's arms and pressing a palm flat to his chest. There are again, quiet words murmured as her attention slides to Deva, Alantir, and Yuri. She chooses not to draw more attention to it, as Leonel already invited Deva to free herself of the guilt. "I'll return to you in a moment. I must go speak with Sebastian." She presses a kiss to his cheek, requiring a bit of a hop to do so, and then slips from his arms to move and find her fellow Voice of Pravus. "Bas," she smiles to the man, clear adoration in her look that softens when she looks to the others at the table, and then rekindles when her eyes are back on the man. "I really do not think my words in the message I sent earlier were strong enough to express how much your gift means to me." She leans in, her hand moving to his shoulder, her lips to his cheek. "Thank you. With all of my greedy little heart."

The Malespero Confessor will follow along after Nebulosa, with a lot of "Hi." and "Oh nice suit." and "Oh, lose that hat, friend." and maybe a "I'm with her." And maybe a couple of "Ooop, just gonna scooch on past ya.", until he too arrives at the center of the crash, with Nimue and the sea bass. Watching Neb just snatch the hankerchiefs out of his hands and observing from over her shoulder, he just kind of shrugs. "Yeah. Yeeeeah, you keep those. Everything alright. I mean, not sure if I really *want* to ask what happened over here but it looked like it was a *thing*."

"Politics," Sebastian counters, to Patrizio, "Sometimes outweighs want," though his smile brightens as he says, "You'll understand when it's your turn. Ah, look -- seems they are welcoming other couples," he says, as he pushes to his feet, turning his gaze to Nisaa with tilt of head in silent inquiry. "Mmhm," he agrees with Mirella, with a bright smile. "The steelsilk was a gift from the Archduchess." His smile only brightens as Tyche slips towards them, leaning in to kiss her cheek in turn. "I'm glad you like it, and sad I didn't get to see your reaction in person. I'll know better for next time," he gives a wry laugh. "You look beautiful, Ty. Truly. Bella made me promise to paint something of this, or I have to write her in gory detail. She wishes she could be here."

Avaline smiles, guiding them to the music. 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3... The hand at Martinique's back not just supporting, but guiding their direction by the pressure of her fingertips or heel of her palm. "Perhaps it's the part of me that dreamed of sailing off and becoming a pirate when I was a child, but I confess, it sounds delightfully loud and debauched." She smiles as their turn around the dance floor makes it through a few measures. "You're doing marvelously. I'm going to spin, alright?" She makes a point to exaggerate her movement as she releases and guide with the hand at her back so Martinique turns in the right direction. "And how do you find soldiering for Redreef?"

At the silent inquiry, Nisaa rises from her seat and offers her hand to Sebastian, letting him lead them to the dance floor when he is ready. "You do, truly look beautiful," The Whisper says to Tyche. "Everything about this day has been a sight to behold. Your wedding will be the talk of the town."

Nisaa is overheard praising Pravus: Congratulations on a strong alliance made

Raven is overheard praising Tyche: What a lovely bride and spectacular hostess.

"I may affix it to the ceiling, if only so that I might stare at myself through your eyes as I fall asleep each night," Tyche crafts an amusing little fantasy, one that doesn't take into account her new husband. She wouldn't really do this. There's a pause, however, at some quiet words exchanged, her gaze searching the Pravosi prince's. Her smile returns, however, and she nods, giving whatever answer she must to his advice. Her attention lifts to Nisaa, "Thank you. I learned much from the Whispers in all of my party throwing." She gives credit where it is due, and then steps back. "Please, do not let me stop you from dancing."

Nisaa is overheard praising Velenosa: Congratulations on a strong alliance made


The handkerchief's claimed for lap-blotting and wiping with nary a beat missed, then all of three seconds later Nimue rises /just/ enough to wrap both arms around Nebulosa's shoulders and haul her into a powerful, awkwardly angled hug. "It's been /forever/," tumbles out in a rush. "I-- how long've you been /back/?" Beat. "/Thank/ you."

Another beat passes as she lets go, then sets a curious squint upon Volya.

"Just my cousin being her unpredictable self," she assures after a moment.


Nisaa is overheard praising Tyche: A beautiful bride and a beautiful wedding

Nisaa is overheard praising Leonel: What a lucky groom!

Martinique checks dexterity and performance at normal. Martinique is successful.

Deva rises from her table, parting with one last apologetic smile for Yuri. The reassuring glance from Leonel is responded to with a quick smile, belatedly. Totally cool. With messy hands and a messier dress, she nods once to Alantir and starts heading out with a napkin clutched to her chest and the knight in her wake. Red curls bounce as she walks with a briskness to her stride, a woman on a mission.

It's easy for Patrizio to grin when Sebastian's threatening him with 'when it's his turn', as if the prince-general's not worried at all about the matter of it ever being such. "This is why I handle military matters and not politics," he offers as the rejoinder when his cousin's rising to go dance with Nisaa, watching admiringly for those few moments and... the head bobs when Tyche's close by, as if to agree with the sentiment about it being a beautiful wedding.

Martinique has been a fighter long enough to respond well to body language cues, and the beat of the music makes for some of its own lead. "It is gloriously loud and debauched," she agrees. And seems to approve. A nod, then, and she steps out for the spin, gliding through the maneuver with nary a wobble. She's seen other people do it enough times after all. Her hands will return to Avaline's shoulders after that, as she lets out a slightly exhilarated breath. "Before I served Redreef, I had a mercenary company...they were killed. Redreef gave me a place when I had none and helped me avenge my fallen. So I would say on the whole good."

Yuri has left the a set of luxurious sofas.

Making Tyche work even harder to secure the kiss is /almost/ too tempting to pass up. Almost. Alas, it's their wedding day, and so he's mercifully letting his shoulders droop and his head hang some, so that the distance between them diminishes and redhead doesn't need to catch too much air to plant her lips upon him. "While you do that, I'm going to go and try to console someone." She doesn't escape without having her hand caught and his fingers lacing into a tight but brief thread with his own, but once it breaks and Tyche is bounding off, Leonel is too -- in Deva's and Yuri's direction, promptly. "So, I can see that you're having a great time." These words are muffled into his glass, and he uses it and the sip of wine that comes hot on the heels of the remark to mask the mischievous grin that's creeping over his lips. Wide, and bright eyes flit between her and him, eventually coming to settle upon the former fully.

Gaspar has left the an elegant dining table.

"I wouldn't," Sebastian warns Tyche: "Just because the servants will be bound to slip in and lie in your bed just to stare at it. And I wouldn't blame them," he adds, with a bright laugh. With another kiss to Tyche's cheek, sky-blue eyes warm, he adds, "Go. Enjoy the night with your lovely husband." He releases his half-hug hold on the bride, turning his gaze to Nisaa. "Shall we? Mirella will keep my cousin-general out of trouble," he suggests, grinning over the Whisper's head towards Patrizio as he seeks to steer the Whisper towards the dance floor.

Ah, shit, Deva can't leave yet because there's the groom! She spins around and smiles, her expression still apologetic and maybe even a little guilty, too. "A wonderful time. This is a beautiful wedding and reception, Marquis. I believe you and your beautiful wife are in for many years of greatness ahead," there's a flutter of fingers toward Tyche as she says this. She then leans in to murmur something to Leonel, gesturing vaguely toward where she ran into the server not long before.

Raven steps in, more than fashionably late but clean if not exactly dressed for the occasion. Verdant eyes scan the packed room and her eyebrows lift as she is briefly distracted by the amazing steelsilk dress the bride wears.

Saverio has left the cushion-covered seating.

"Only a few short days now; with Miranda having married off into Mazetti and my mother passed, the House was in need of a Sword again, and I had far less reason to stay in Gemecitta." Awkwardly angled indeed! Though Nebulosa is thrilled to hug her friend, and to hug Nimue quite tightly, she's also trying to dodge handkerchiefs, and stains, and soiling her own dress. Having taken the time to slip into one of the deliciously Lycene gowns with a back cut low enough to be scandalous at anything *but* a Pravosi-Velenosan wedding, she has no intention of letting it go to waste, too. "But I thought you'd be back in Redreef Shores! I haven't seen your name on the patrol roster these last few days, and had heard some mumblings on the way back to Arx about Blackreef Bay? Blackreef Beach? One of the sailors on The Green Harp had said something about it at dinner one night, though I only caught bits and pieces." There's another squeeze before she unravels her arms and gestures towards Volya. "Have you met your unwitting rescuer?"

Saverio has joined the a reflective dance floor.

"We shall," Nisaa nods towards Sebastian. Giving a smile to Patrizio as she walks past with Sebastian. "Both matters are interesting, if someone were asking me. I've not much of a mind for military myself, but it does fascinate me." Stepping onto the dance floor, she lets Sebastian take the lead in their dance. Though the Whisper is often smiling, her expression while dancing is light and almost effervescent.

Nisaa has left the an elegant dining table.

Nisaa has joined the a reflective dance floor.

Sebastian has left the an elegant dining table.

Sebastian has joined the a reflective dance floor.

Tyche laughs as Sebastian accuses her servants of being obsessed with her. Clearly she likes the idea, the flush to her cheeks a lovely shade of pink. "Perhaps I will put it in the main hall, then, and watch all of the city line up." The idea spreads, and she is stepping aside to let the pair move to the floor. She turns her smile now on Patrizio and Mirella, "General. Are you keeping Mirella out of trouble?" she asks, as if checking in on Sebastian's orders. Of course, he said it the other way around, but she seems to think that Mirella is the greater risk here. After a moment her gaze searches out Leonel again, a newness to the thought of having a Marquis by her side. There's a pleased tilt to her head, and any who might chance a glance at the Marquessa right now will see a woman clearly charmed by her choice in political matches.

Cassimir is overheard praising Tyche: Congratulations, cousin. I could not be more happy for you than I am today.

Saverio dances with Ember, following the Bloody Baroness' lead, "This is very different from you fighting, if you'll pardon my saying so. You're... unrestrained in that area. Unconcerned what prying eyes might see." In offering to lead he smiles crookedly, "I'm not going to chide you, but you might have to learn how to enjoy yourself at some point without a sword in hand."

Cassimir is overheard praising Leonel: Welcome to the family, cousin. I look forward to serving Inverno pinned to your side.

Alantir is overheard praising Tyche.

Alantir is overheard praising Leonel.

"Of that, I've no doubt, Princess Deva. You /did/ have a chance to taste some of the food, at least, yes?" The absolute mess of Deva's dress is what pilfers much of his attention, and while it's impolite to stare, he does anyway. He's keeping hysterics trapped behind his teeth, somehow, with just a muffled grunt of it goodnatured laughter. "Well, if not, I'll have a sample platter find you. A little bit of everything, to enjoy at your leisure." When his eyes can peel themselves away from the stains, Deva is passing along some few discreet words and Leonel has a fair share of his own to respond with, before there's a subtle dip of his crown in the redhead's direction, his eyes then flicking toward the exit.

Avaline's smile broadens. "Well done," she whispers. "You're far better at this than you let on," the shorter woman teases. Her expression softens at this story. "I'm so sorry... It's never easy losing comrades. I didn't mean to bring up anything unpleasant." As they spin around the dance floor, she changes topics. "At the risk of being far too Lycene in my sensibilities, my compliments to your dress."

Alantir is overheard praising Yuri.

"Have you ever known me to be anything /but/ out of trouble?" Asks Patrizio to Tyche in a perfectly peaceful manner, though there's the shoot of a smile to Mirella, as if encouraging perhaps some of that trouble that they're being told to stay out of. "My good Marquessa, perish the thought that I'd be anything but helpful." Okay, that too might not be helping matters, but there's that chuckle of his, and then the extending of a hand to Mirella, as he muses, "Would you care to dance, while we're being kept an eye on anyway?"

Sebastian isn't a terrible dancer, but compared to Nisaa, he's practically clunky. Still, she makes it -- and dancing with him -- look effortless, as they join the couples out there. Unsurprisingly for a Pravosi, he does like to dance with flair, several twirls and dips offered in amongst the fleet movement of feet, as he leans to murmur something quietly to the Whisper.

Standing in the back, Volya is just playing observer while Nebulosa and Nimue reconnect, clearly having known each other. The man doesn't have a whole lot to add to the whole thing, but he does listen, giving a vague wave at anyone who happens to be staring at them. Y'know, that kind of wave that would make someone feel awkward for staring at them. Once he's regarded, he just shrugs, giving a light grin. "Nah, I just happen to keep those on me just in case there's evidence I need to pick up and it happens to be covered in blood or...anything else." Must be an Inquisition thing. "I'd say I'm here to make her look good, but it's probably the other way around." He gives a dip of the head at that. "Volya Malespero. Though, I'm guessing the seafood didn't really agree with you?"

Martinique expresses the emotion of a shrug without disrupting the flow of the dance, a sort of shiver of her shoulders that doesn't take too much movement. "It is past, though still somewhat recent, and difficult to avoid in casual conversation if one asks "what have you spent your time doing" or any other ordinary conversational question. But thank you--I, it's borrowed, I don't own a lot of clothes myself. But I did notice yours as well." And her smile is returned, gentle.

Deva is practically wearing the napkin now, like a shawl worn backwards. She shrinks a little as she chats with the new Marquis, her smile pleasant but a little distracted. "The soup. Please send more soup. All the soup. I'll eat any of it that no one else wants. I didn't try the rest though," and at this she taps her fingers against the napkin she's still clutching. That explains it all. A few more quiet words are punctuated with a laugh, and she smiles wider with a shake of her head while peeling backwards toward the door. Alantir's arm is claimed in her own, and off they go!

Having just lifted a patting hand from Cassimir's forearm, Mirella perks up her head at Tyche's question. "We're the height of good behaviour, I assure you. Would you expect anything less?" A flit of a smile is flickered to Marquessa and Prince before she nods to Patrizio. After sending an warmer, more apologetic smile to Cassimir, she says, "I'll be back soon. If you leave before I return, shall we meet back at the estate later?" Standing, she lifts her hand and turns to Patrizio. "I would be honoured, your highness."

Deva has left the a set of luxurious sofas.

Alantir has left the a set of luxurious sofas.

Jasper, an unflappable scoundrel, 2 Redrain Guards, Alantir leave, following Deva.

Nisaa moves gracefully with every twirl and dip Sebastian leads her into. She seems not surprised by any movement he makes. It is almost like she has practiced the dance step by step, though she hasn't. When he murmurs to her, she turns to meet his gaze briefly before returning softly spoken words.

Ember seems to snap out of whatever headspace she's been lost within as combat is brought up. "I enjoy myself," Ember says, in the mildly defensive tone of someone who is rightfully being accused of not enjoying themselves enough. "I just-- I-- Lord Saverio, I am... overtaken... by the... moment." Ember's s-l-o-w way of speaking the words reveals just how much she's scrambling to cover up whatever it is she really wants to say. "It is a momentous day for House Inverno. And quietly, one... one for Redreef Shores as well, and... yes. You lead for a moment. I've run out of dances I know."

"Now that you mention it," Tyche considers Patrizio's claim, and then laughs lightly, "No. So I suppose you're both in good hands." And she glances back to Leonel, who seems to be glancing toward the exit. Her lips curve in a deeper smile, and she nods to him. She moves to join the man, standing in front of him so that she can reach across to claim his left hand in her own. She lifts their joined hands, her thumb brushing over the dragonweep he wears. "Brick by brick," she tells him, and then dips her head to brush her lips over his knuckles. "My husband." A rather sweet moment as she lifts her head to look up to him again, and then with a spin outward she addresses all, "Enjoy the evening! Drink the wine! Eat the food! My husband wishes to escape to the upper rooms of La Rosa, which if you haven't had a chance to visit? I highly recommend." She turns to lead Leonel away, and then a thought strikes, "Maybe just not tonight, hmm? Unless you're feeling adventurous." To both the crowd and her new husband. Because everyone knows what will be happening up there tonight! They'll put all of their gifts out around on the bed and giggle over their haul.

Yuri afforded Leonel a stoic glance before it dropped, the one attendant whom the Princess had collided into wiping away errant tears before she moved away rather quickly with a bow to the once-Prince now Marquis. "Well. Is it everything you thought of? Do I need to clear some of the suites to make way for an afterparty? The card room is always open, as is the grotto. A few more suites of dubious nature." Arms folded over his chest as he scanned the room for any of the servers carting around hard alcohol; he could use it at this point.

Nisaa is overheard praising Sebastian.

Patrizio offers up an apologetic smile briefly to Cassimir, though not too much so - there's the matter perhaps of his being the first one to strike, with asking for such things where he can. And as such, he's offering his arm to Mirella to draw her out towards the dance floor. "I shall not steal you away for the whole evening, I promise you," he assures, with that warm smile of his. "But it does seem a shame to be at a wedding and not dance, mm?"

"You wear it well," Avaline assures evenly. "Like it belongs on you." It may be a bit of flirt. And to the remark of not owning many clothes, "Well that is pure tragedy, a work of art should be able to wear finery worthy of her." It may be a lot of a flirt. Another twirl as the music starts to come to a close. "Thank you for indulging me."

Saverio leads Ember in a dance that's not really recognizable from current, popular dances in the Compact. It's hard to pinpoint, but looks like a very old fashioned Crownlands dance, that's slow and elegant. He boldly holds her and leads, seeming confident and unconcerned, "There's grand moments in the future. There will be struggles and triumphs, and I have faith in House Redreef and House Inverno weathering those storms." He dips her low in the dance, "And I am committed to the success of our houses..." His cool brown eyes lock with hers, "And of you."


"The bass was /lovely/," Nimue promises. "It was just-- it was nothing," comes with a quick, dismissive wave. "Nothing-- not important, right now."

Dark eyes dart between Volya and Nebulosa for as long as it takes a sigh to escape her lungs, then plump lips stretch into a renewed smile.

"It's been years, but nonetheless: I /hope/ you're treating my darling Nebulosa well, today and otherwise," comes out substantially lighter, then she extends a hand towards him. "Nimue Redreef."


"That's twice now, isn't it?" A pause, and some thought weighs heavily on Leonel's brow and briefly purses his lips. "You can't hold an event here, Yuri, without someone demolishing bits and pieces of your property." The hand upon Yuri's shoulder and the squeeze after isn't likely to impart any measure of comfort, given that Leo is finally overcome by that rowdy outburst of laughter, at the young lord's expense. "We'll see if the streak holds. Third time just might be the charm." He reins in the noise, and stalls the riotous rock of his shoulders just long enough to deliver an answer to a question. "Yes, it was lovely, Yuri. Thank you, again.. and you can open the suites all that you'd like, if they'r -- .." Tyche has stolen the thought right from his skull and loosed it from her lips before he can, and Leo's head pitches in the woman's direction, as if that serves as enough of an answer for Yuri. "At your leave, Marquessa. I believe you've /yet/ to actually set your eyes upon my suite, here. I'll give you the grand tour, and gladly."

Perhaps permission must be casualty to forgiveness now and then. Martinique darts downward slightly to try to steal a kiss from Avaline. It's a bold move, a commoner to a princess, but one never wins a battle without taking some risks. Then she steps back, and curtseys more properly as the music comes to its conclusion. "It has been my great pleasure to make your acquaintance princess Avaline. I hear there may be another wedding coming up at some point soon." And she'll smile then, and step away from the floor once more.

"Not to worry, I am about to turn in. We will meet later, Mirella. Please, enjoy the evening," he says, mostly to his dear friend though it does at least cover kindly Prince Patrizio's small bit of apology. A smile is shared with both, and with that done, he stands from his seat, finishes off the lingering bit of wine pooling in his glass, and then does, in fact, depart. The glass is deftly set atop a passing server's plate on the way out.

Well, now there's another Pravosi on the dance floor, Sebastian /clearly/ has to step up his game. He gives a wink in Patrizio and Mirella's direction as he leads Nisaa past them, turning and dipping her in a clearly show-boat way, before he guides her on, voice quiet as he murmurs to her.

And with that, the man and woman of the hour slip out the door, moving to mount the steps of La Rosa and find the suite Leonel calls his own.

While dancing with Saverio, Ember meets the man's eyes, and is so overwhelmed by emotion -- emotion that she really doesn't know how to express with her face, she's so out of practice -- that a single tear rolls down her cheek. "Thank you," she replies, in a tiny voice.