come one! come all! [odette & suitors]

[ollie]

[/color]

“Do you?” she snapped, done humoring these imbeciles. “I don’t know your name, much less who you are. Your face is unfamiliar, and I’ve never met you before today. How could you remember me when I was younger? You’re going gray, for heaven’s sakes!” The man blinked, and raised a hand to his graying temple. He had to be in his late thirties, give or take. “What were you, my tutor?”

The man stammered for words now, and as he did so, she waved her hand tiredly. “Just leave, good sir. I’m not remotely interested in marrying you,” she said softly, leaning back in her chair. As he moved away, her mother hit her thigh with a fan.

“Young lady! That was very rude! All the man wanted to do was court you, must you so abruptly deny him?” her mother hissed. Odette looked away from her mother’s angry face as her father stepped into the room. Sir Wilhelm was ruggedly handsome, looking more like a war hero than the delicate beauty his daughter Odette was. He had a square jaw, a crooked nose, and sideburns that seemed to make his face broader. There was a wicked intelligence in his hazel eyes, the kind of intelligence he shared with his daughter – one that was mostly self-serving, certainly a sly intelligence.

He smiled at his daughter, who straightened in her seat with tight lips, slightly glaring at her father as he sat in the empty chair across from them. “Darling daughter,” he began, voice smooth as an eel’s, “I know this appears very… unfair to you, but what is unfair is that you are such a brilliant and beautiful girl, and yet you seem to find no interest in marrying any suitable men. That man that left is a very well-known scholar that could keep up with anything you said.”

“No, father, he couldn’t. He couldn’t even keep up with my assault,” she snapped, crossing her arms.

Sir Wilhelm laughed, shaking his head. “You will be engaged by the ball, and whether or not you have a spring wedding or a wedding on your damned birthday,” he said, and she flinched at the curse, “you will be married soon. I promise you that.” He stood, brushing off anything from his jacket, and stepped back out into the hall, gesturing to whoever was out there to continue in. “I’m sorry, my daughter was simply doubting for a moment. I am sure she will be jubilant to meet you.”[/size][/ul][/justify]

[Di]

Although he was famous for wicked intelligence, Sir Wilhelm apparently had not the faintest idea of the perfect man for Odette. He had chosen quite a wide variety in history and genres of excellence. But off all the men she had witnessed enter her Lady in waiting’s room, most were either spineless or confident past the point of arrogance. And God knows what Odette was capable of, despite the pressure of her parents in the room. Logically, this whole affair needed... a woman's touch.

Adalia figured her job was out in the hall, pacing to and fro parallel to the line of suitors that were to enter Odette’s chamber. She trotted swiftly through the crowds of suitors. She cast her bright, alert eyes about purposefully. Though she'd glimpsed only a handful of half-decent men, she was on the right track. She passed a man fidgeting under her gaze amongst the line and came to a halt. Adalia started forward, but then stopped at a man years beyond Odette’s age. The brunette frowned, disappointed. She spun around, looking for anything, any clue to aid her.

The brunette knew the men were watching her. It was obvious; the Princess of Regina in their midst was awe-inspiring enough, and Adalia had to fight back a glare. She hated being fussed over. Today, the focus was on Odette, not her. She had enough to worry about as it stood.

Adalia did allow herself a frustrated huff. It was obvious what the fellows were trying to achieve, as she briefly saw a ruggedly cut man flex not-so-subtly. Enticement. She quirked a delicate eyebrow at him. The man, noticing her gaze, flashed her a grin before winking in her direction. The princess resisted the urge to gag. Adalia could’ve laughed right there and then. They seemed so sure of themselves, yet they were unaware of what Adalia had in store for them. The thought of their reactions made her smirk softly; a face Odette would’ve been proud of.

Half of her mind tried to sense the exact moment when Sir Wilhelm would release the next batch of gentlemen into the room. She had to make quick of this. Adalia clambered to the front of the line once again, her decision made.

“When I point to you, please step forward,” Adalia instructed, putting on her best indifferent façade she could possibly muster. She indicated the fidgeting scholar, he elderly blacksmith, the arrogant knight, and a few others she, on impulse, knew Odette would despise upon greeting. “Now,” Clapping her hands together with a kind smile –the men swooned in response– Adalia continued, “the reason I have pulled the few of you out of line is as such: I do not believe that you and Lady Odette would be,” she paused, searching for the right word, “best suited for each other. So unfortunately gentlemen, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Adalia curtsied, finding something extraordinary in the pattern of the carpet so she wouldn’t have to see the males’ flabbergasted expressions. “Thank you, and I’m truly sorry.”

At the same time the men grumbled and trudged towards the stairwell, Adalia heard the grand oak door open. Perfect timing, she thought gleefully. Advancing herself to the front of the line as Sir Wilhelm motioned them inside, Adalia beamed charmingly as she bowed her head before announcing, “This way, gentlemen,” before motioning after Sir Wilhelm and closing the door after they trailed after Odette's father.

[Mimi]

Christian rode ahead of the Silian entourage with a smile ever present on his face and whistling a light and airy tune much to the disgruntlement of the servants and court doctor who rode behind. No, they weren't as bothered by the tune as they were by the fact that the Silian prince had accompanied them...against the knowledge of the King. The court doctor had been present, in fact, when the boyish twin of the departed Rian bounced into the throne room requesting absence to "hone his military skills" with the famed general who had recently returned from the now deserted Reginien battlegrounds. And the father, ever trusting of his innocent and honest second eldest, gave him the heartiest permission a King could grant. Imagine the doctor's surprise, then, when half way to the kingdom of Regina, someone suddenly shouted, "Y-y-your Highness!"

No one in their little group wanted to face an angry Silian King - it was suicide! - and the doctor shuttered to think of the terrible man's reaction when he found out.

...What if he were blamed? What if he were implicated for bringing the Silian Prince along? Or...or...dear god, for kidnapping him? Who knows what the King would do to him even if he was innocent!

Absolutely terrified, the court doctor cantered up to ride alongside Christian who remained blissfully ignorant of the other man's distress.

"Y-y-your Hi-hi-hi ---" His throat suddenly felt very dry, and he gulped a few times before trying again. "Your Highness, it is my strongest belief that it would be best for you to return to Silus. T-t-think of your poor father if nothing else!"

Christian clapped the man affably on the shoulder and sighed.

The court doctor immediately lit up. It looked like the Silian Prince was going to be more reasonable than - - -

"Look at that falcon! Isn't it magnificent!"

...he'd expected...

"Your Highness!"

Christian blinked and looked at the court doctor confusedly as though he'd just appeared at his side. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The court doctor sighed. Well, it was just a life...there was always...reincarnation...

"Your Highness, at least change into more presentable clothes before we arrive! What would your father say?"

Or more importantly, punish him if he learned that he'd allowed his son to waltz into the Reginien court dressed in - in commoners' clothes! Oh, the horror!

Christian shrugged. "Oh, come now. How else could I have followed you all so long without being discovered? And I won't stay for long; I know my father would send a battalion soon to retrieve me. Just for a short while to assist Rian a bit with his..."

He paused, looking for the right word. "...rough personality. And I'll go! So I don't want any fuss over me; I'll just introduce myself as - as..."

Christian furrowed his eyebrows in deep contemplation. "...as an esquire of the household! Yes."

He nodded his head as though immensely proud of his plan and continued his tune where he'd left off.

The court doctor was almost crying by now.

"B-b-but Your Highness...you are your brother's spitting image!"

"Not spitting image! I do have hazel eyes, you know," Christian added cheerfully.

The court doctor gave up.

It wasn't much later that the Reginien castle came into view, and unlike his brother, Christian was highly impressed. Well, he'd been impressed for a while. The trees seemed more majestic, the water clearer, and the air less polluted. Regina might not have been as large as Silus, but Christian fancied it more - how would he say it - homely? In the good sense, of course.

Christian gradually fell back to bring up the rear of the company as the court doctor announced their arrival and the gates rumbled open. This was the first time that Christian found the presence of the court doctor to be rather...strange. Why the court doctor? It wasn't like his brother was sick or anything of that nature. Ha! Rian sick? The thought was absurd! From what he managed to read of Rian's letter before the doctor had snatched it away, his brother was angry - very angry - but healthy as a horse.

The group came to a halt before two lavishly dressed persons whom Christian could only assume were the King and Queen of Regina. While the court doctor made small talk, Christian took the opportunity to slip away, discreetly dismounting from his stallion and leading the horse to the stables before stealing into the castle.

...He should have been an assassin.

Whilst entertaining the thought, Christian wandered about the castle, clueless and, well, hopelessly lost until, that is, he came to a long line of men who seemed to be waiting to gain entrance to a bedchamber.

Well! That had to be his brother's bedchamber then! Christian beamed at the thought that his brother had already made so many friends in just a day! Granted, they were all men, but how could Christian blame him? Women were terrifying. He nearly blanched just thinking about the horror stories Rian used to tell him about witches and hags. (Which made Rian's going off to woo a woman all the more confusing, but who was Christian to question the future King?)

Sliding into line behind a robust youth who had a swaggering step, Christian waited patiently to be admitted to see his brother.

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[Nessie]

Sir Nathan Dunbar was an unusual individual in that he wasn't here as a potential suitor for Lady Odette. Yes, the promise of land was certainly alluring to him, but that was all. Dunbar was not and had never been a romantic soul. He was the sort of man who would chose money over love.

Despite this, he wasn't exactly the most wealthy of men. He had enough, sure, and he had his title. That was all good and well. But he was discontented, moody, displeased with almost all he saw. Gold was corrupting and would tempt him to almost anything, and it wasn't as though he needed it.

Gold had led him to do many things in his life he now looked back on with regret. Gold had persuaded him to bribe people, hoodwink people, steal from people, hurt people...even kill.

The whole business of the murder had been kept strictly confidential; the only ones who knew of it were him and the duke who had asked him to do it. Afterwards Dunbar had been so racked with guilt as to contemplate his own death...how could he have let himself sink so low, to murder...and for what? A bag of gold coins?

Though it had been gold that had dragged him down, it was gold that built him up once more. The duke who had ordered the murders, seeing the state it had left Dunbar in, was prepared to part with more money in order to keep him on his side; a man like him, who for all intents and purposes seemed amoral, would be a useful ally, especially in these dangerous times.

Sir Nathan knew of the fragile state between the nations of Silus and Regina, though he wanted little to do with it. Having apparently shunned his guilt and remorse, he was back to being his old self. He wanted gold and he wanted power...but not as much power as a kingdom. He was simply content to live his life and do others dirty work, if only to earn himself a little credit from those of higher authority, and rebuild his fractured self respect.

This being said, why, then, was he waiting outside Lady Odette's chamber with the other suitors? Mainly because he hadn't been given a task to carry out in awhile, and he had little else to be getting on with. He supposed he could have taken his horse out for a canter, but watching other people was, on the whole, more entertaining.

People were fascinating creatures. Their different personalities, their ways of reacting to situations... The thing about people that amused Dunbar the most, when he was in a contemplative mood as he was now, was how titles and glories all faded to nothing when a man was faced with the prospect of death. It all meant so little, in the end.

He knew that.

And yet he continued to hanker after money as though it were all that kept him alive. But ever since he'd committed the murder, he'd raised the bar; his services now came with a much higher price. He deserved that much.

Dunbar did not stand in line with the others; rather, he stood off to the side, doing a credible imitation of a statue, barely moving as he watched the men proceed. It was from this vantage point that he sighted the newcomer (there hadn't been one in the past half hour or so) joining the end of the line.

He looked different, this youth. Sir Nathan wasn't sure why, but there was certainly something...off, about him. He was one to speak, with his attire in shades of black and grey and his mouse brown hair lank and unkempt. He didn't really look the part of a noble.

Nor did this man, dressed in what looked to be commoner's clothes. Dunbar was intrigued. Having contemplated approaching the man for several moments and twisted his ring, the only piece of adornment on his person, about his finger in apparent agitation, he eventually decided to do so. There was only so much entertainment watching a slow moving procession of men could give.

Having mentally assured himself that his dagger was secure on his belt alongside his coin purse, Dunbar seemed to snap from his reverie and approached the man, the smallest of smiles appearing on his usually frowning countenance.

Upon reaching the man's side he inclined his head in polite acknowledgement; if one was to judge by outward appearance this man was not worth scraping a bow for.

"I take it you are here to see the Lady Odette, sir?" Dunbar asked, all innocence.

[Di]

Adalia hesitated, then closed the door when a proper amount of gentlemen entered Odette’s doorway. How many are left, she wondered. The Princess looked back at the line half-heartedly. Initially, she only noticed dozens of men left, but then she thought she saw the line get longer or she was just imagining; she wasn’t sure. After a long moment, she realized that she was staring at a definite, stubborn line that refused to diminish. Adalia gaped and drew in a long, steadying breath. She hadn't seen this many men in once place. Incredulous, Adalia turned back towards the door—looking back, she didn’t see where the dent in the line went.

On a whim –not caring at the moment if she seemed off-putting– Adalia decided to repeat the process she had followed through the entire day. There was no point in dilly-dallying. It was best to get a head start so she could relax a bit. The princess heeded this thought, but at that moment she couldn’t break the rapidly progressing feeling that some unannounced time limit was coming to an end already. She had to work fast.

Despite the fear present in the brunette’s eyes, she continued down the line, dismissing other contenders while the seconds bunched together and collapsed into minutes. Eventually, however, Adalia believe she had made excellent progress and turned to leave. She paused with her left foot halfway on the ground and seemed to consider something. Adalia took the moment of hesitation as she figured, I’m already this far down the line, I might as well continue. And so she did.

Adalia sighed, defeated as she reached the end of the line. When her brown eyes observed that she had nothing left to work on, she turned to head back up the line. As she began to trek towards the door, she stopped. She nearly passed two new entrants: a young man of humble presence and a noble of some sorts as they moved in the direction from which she came. “Excuse me sirs, but are you waiting in line?” She asked, waiting patiently as it seemed that the eldest was discussing something with the youth. Now that she thought on it, the young man looked particularly like…

“Prince Rian!” Adalia exclaimed in a shocked whisper. Casting a side-glance to the door before taking a risk to discover what was going on, Adalia hastened towards Rian. She murmured a quick, “Pardon me,” to the noble for interrupting her conversation before she tapped her index finger timidly on the young man’s shoulder, walking into his peripheral view as she talked. “Prince Rian, pardon me for being so rude, but what are you doing in the line of suitors for Lady Odette –oh!” Her polite question had ended in a soft gasp, her free hand darting to cover her distressed mouth. She quickly removed her hand from the shoulder of the man who was indeed not Prince Rian.

Adalia, now taking a step back from the young man, blinked as she took him in. Strange. Although he was clearly not prince Rian, the gentlemen bore an eerie resemblance of her suitor. His eyes were darker, yes, but otherwise, he was a spitting image of the Silus Prince. After coming to her conclusion of the man, Adalia realized she had been staring for quite some time, her head tilted curiously. She blushed from embarrassment and quickly curtsied, bowing her head deeply to hide her reddened face. “My deepest apologies for staring, sir. I thought you were someone else. I had no right to.”

[Mimi]

Someone else, like his brother, might have taken Sir Dunbar's failure to bow as an offense as Christian should have, but the man was so jubilant to be in another country (and to assist his brother, of course) that almost nothing could have deterred his good mood. He felt like a new born babe who just learned to walk or an elderly man stretching his legs for the first time in weeks. It was a feeling of liberation to not only be able to escape the Silian court but also reinvent his very identity! The thought made him all bubbly and happy-like inside so much so that he forgot he'd promised to stay only for a day or two.

Etiquette, however, was something beaten into all nobles, and as forgetful as Christian was sometimes, the simplest salutatory gestures weren't so much something to be remembered as much as something part of a blue blood's instinct. Thus, Christian offered the noble a humble bow, momentarily dismissing social standings, for he was raised to only bow to those that bow to you and to forgo that instruction under no circumstance (even if he were pretending to be a servant). It was simply the Silian way.

"Good afternoon, Sir," he greeted cordially but paused at his next few words.

Something like confusion washed over his features, and he hesitantly repeated the name he mentioned. "Lady...Odette?"

He cocked his head to one side and mulled over this "Lady Odette". Had he perchance met a Lady Odette some time somewhere? No, he was fairly certain he hadn't. Was there a "Lady Odette" standing in this line? Christian glanced up and down the line. No, no. There was only men unless "Lady" was the man's given name, and that was absurd.

Just as he was coming to the conclusion that he didn't in fact know such a person and thus wouldn't be here to see her, a woman of regal bearing interrupted their half-conversation with a demure "pardon me".

Prince Rian? Why would Prince Rian be waiting in a line to be admitted into his own bedchamber? 'My! Reginien customs are certainly different!' he thought to himself.

Christian chuckled quietly at being mistaken for Rian. This wasn't the first time. Scores of women had come up to him, mistaking him for his more famous brother, before he gently corrected their mistake and sent them on their way to the real Prince Rian. Not many came looking for Prince Christian, and when they did, well, they asked the strangest questions!

He still remembered once, after he and his brother had returned from a successful hunt, how a seemingly harmless girl strolled slowly up to him, batting her eyelashes - which Christian found curious and attributed to the fact that there was a lot of dust in the air that day - and a bit red in the face - the sun, of course because it was very sunny that day too. After confirming that she was indeed looking for a Prince Christian, she quietly asked, "Ah, by happenstance, Prince Christian, are you married?"

Oh dear. Christian's mind was starting to wander again. He shook his head a bit and tuned back into his surroundings just as the woman before him began to speak again. He barely managed to catch her apology.

"Oh, no. It's perfectly understandable. I do bear a striking resemblance to him, don't I?" he asked amiably, stepping back a bit and bowing as she curtsied.

Christian studied the woman for another split second before asking, "Ah, would I be correct in assuming that you are the Reginien princess?"

Women were fearful creatures, yes, but for Christian to have survived so long at court, he had to have some tolerance for them. As long as he didn't talk to them for too long and they didn't do or say anything too unexpected, Christian found he could suppress his intimidation for a good while.

"My name is Christian, and I am - ah - the Silian esquire of the household. I came with the company and commodities that Rian would be needing for his seven day sojourn."

Christian mentally winced when he finished his little introduction. Perhaps he shouldn't have called Rian by only his first name...but then again, esquires of the household were supposed to be close to the nobles they tended...weren't they? And maybe he shouldn't have said his real name...but then again, who knew Rian had a twin brother and much less that that twin brother's name was Christian?

He cheered up at bit at his own explanations and flashed both lady and man an uplifting grin.

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[Nessie]

Well this was awkward. Despite the fact the man was dressed in common clothes, he greeted Dunbar with all civility, going so far as to bow in his direction. Feeling as though he'd made some sort of blunder in etiquette Dunbar hurriedly bowed in return, as though his manners had only momentarily deserted him.

As a look of confusion crossed the man's face however it was hard for Dunbar to hide a grin. What was he looking so anxious about? Surely that was why he was h-

“Excuse me sirs, but are you waiting in line?”

Princess Adalia had joined their little party. Immediately Dunbar ducked into a low bow, hardly daring to raise his eyes from the floor as the princess and the newcomer conversed.

"I am not, Your Highness, but I believe this young man may be."

He straightened up however as the conversation turned towards the man's resemblance to Prince Rian.

Nathan had yet to meet the prince, although he'd seen him about the castle. He had to admit he liked the sound of the man...but he had yet to have the pleasure of conversing with him. He duly noted that the likelihood of this would be slim anyway, considering his low rank...not to mention there was no apparent reason for the pair of them to converse.

"My name is Christian, and I am - ah - the Silian esquire of the household. I came with the company and commodities that Rian would be needing for his seven day sojourn."

This was getting stranger by the minute. Sir Nathan was glad to be in the presence of someone of similar rank (the man tended on nobles so they weren't that far apart) and yet...despite his attire, Nathan thought he didn't seem as though he were of a lower status...

"I find it somewhat strange, sir, that you should so closely resemble the prince...and yet you are the esquire of the household?"

Nathan wasn't sure whether or not he should have kept the musing to himself and kept his trap shut. It seemed the conversation was more between the princess and this man, and who was he to interrupt? But it was in his nature to be curious (or, should I say, suspicious) of those he met.

Besides, Christian had dealt him a winning smile, a grin even. He seemed amiable enough not to mind being questioned.

[Di]

"Oh, no. It's perfectly understandable. I do bear a striking resemblance to him, don't I?"

The brunette noticed the young man and turned to her. She had remained curtsied for a while, afraid that she was not yet forgiven. His countenance didn’t perceive any falsehood in his amiable nature. Adalia thought she detected a faint blush upon her cheeks, but figured it to be embarrassment.

Adalia hesitated, and then finally arose after the friendly voice of the young man had persuaded her.

But when she had met his gaze, she could help but look on. The young man’s eyes shone as he beamed. They entranced Adalia; she found herself in love with that color. And as the brunette found butterflies fluttering about her stomach with longing, she felt a sheepish blush arise once again.

"Ah, would I be correct in assuming that you are the Reginien princess?"

A long moment, she realized that she was staring for quite a while. Adalia gaped and drew in a long, steadying breath. “I-I beg your pardon, sir. Yes. I am Adalia,” Adalia murmured, feeling all of her will power used on preventing another sap-happy smile akin to when she had first met Prince Rian. However, it hadn't felt quite the same, and Adalia couldn’t figure out as to why. Incredulous, Adalia tilted her head slightly as she mused upon it.

"My name is Christian, and I am - ah - the Silian esquire of the household. I came with the company and commodities that Rian would be needing for his seven day sojourn."

The hazel-eyed male seemed surprised, but he smiled despite how off-put his first reaction was on the subject of his identity. So, Hazel was Christian. Christian, she thought of his name experimentally. He seemed to throw the name out like it was a gold coin for Adalia to catch. Christian didn't seem to press on, but for the moment, Adalia didn't care because she was realizing that those hazel eyes had a powerful, mind-lulling gravitational pull, and she was falling headlong.

That must’ve been the addition in comparison to her infatuation of Prince Rian. She remained like that, gradually relaxing in his presence, still locked gazes with him what was becoming a fenced-in, private road between their eyes. If they'd been birds, this moment would have been like two cranes flying past each other to their separate lives, the edges of their wings just touching. She didn’t want to separate.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t gaze into his eyes forever; the male would become perturbed if she insisted on going on. The brunette glanced at the noble, allowing him to ask Christian a question. It was true; it was slightly uncanny that a man of lower class was so close to Prince Rian when he seemed to be an exact copy of the Silus Prince. But while she waited for Christian to answer, she turned her attention to the noble. Initially, she couldn’t place his face in any memory of hers. Maybe she hadn’t seen him until now, or maybe she could place him faintly in a memory of sketchy faces, she wasn't sure which. Well, there was never any harm in reaffirming her doubts. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. Have we met before? I can’t seem to remember,” Adalia admitted sheepishly, offering him a kind smile.

[Mimi]

Christian found that the Princess, as he had correctly assumed, was looking at him awfully intently and for an awfully long period of time without breaking eye contact. It was starting to make him nervous, and whenever Christian grew nervous, everyone knew. He began fidgeting with his fingers, which under normal circumstances would have been adorned with rings but at the moment were shockingly bare.

His mind went into a frenzy of questions. Why was she staring? Did she know he was lying? Did she not like him? Had he said something rude? Maybe he should have bowed lower. Maybe he should have been more polite. How could he have been more polite if he hadn't even yet known for sure if she was the Princess?

Christian began feeling light-headed swimming in all his self-doubt, and his smile faltered. In the back of his mind, he wished his brother were here; he could handle such situations with so much more refined grace and elegance than Christian ever could. Something in Adalia's face, however, held his eyes to her just when he was about to run his hand through his hair and use that as an excuse to look elsewhere. His heart suddenly gave way within his chest, opening into a chasm of...of what felt like sadness. Sadness for the many multitude of things they had in common, but before the feeling could deepen and make Christian really depressed, the Princess looked away. He nearly breathed an audible sigh of relief.

Just like that, Christian forgot all about his abrupt bout of melancholy, and a smile returned to his face.

He laughed nervously at the question. "Ah, yes. I've been asked about that many times."

Christian paused for a split second, trying to muster up something to alleviate their doubts. "...In fact, as I was growing up, my own father couldn't believe the resemblance and asked my mother if I was indeed his child."

Another nervous laugh. "But yes, I am simply the esquire and quite close to the Prince, for as children, we tried to fool the peerage into thinking one was the other."

Hopefully with a bit of truth mixed in, they would better believe him. As he was about to speak again, Adalia's voice cut him off, and Christian respectfully held back his question until Adalia voiced hers.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir. Have we met before? I can’t seem to remember."

Christian, a bit flabbergasted, turned his eyes to the man with whom he'd been speaking. That's right! He had never said his name, had he? For some reason, Christian found that to be very startling and rude on Christian's part since he really should have asked much earlier. He frowned a bit as his negligence and waited patiently for the man to speak, mentally chastising himself to never do such a thing again.

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[Nessie]

Nathan observed the conversation between the esquire and the princess with beady, suspicious eyes, though somehow managing to keep his face free of any negative emotion, neutral, expressionless.

He got the impression that he would have been better off not coming to question Christian; what business was it of his whether he came to see Odette or not? But then, he reflected, better to strike up a conversation rather than simply stand there.

And yet, that was what Adalia seemed to be doing, her gaze entirely focused on Christian for a long moment, even after she'd finished speaking. Nathan found this unusual; was it because Christian, as she said, reminded her of Prince Rian? Why did she see fit to stare at him so?

Her gaze moved to him however, soon after these thoughts passed through his head. He lowered his gaze respectfully, feeling it wouldn't be his place to meet her eyes.

"Ah, yes. I've been asked about that many times....In fact, as I was growing up, my own father couldn't believe the resemblance and asked my mother if I was indeed his child. But yes, I am simply the esquire and quite close to the Prince, for as children, we tried to fool the peerage into thinking one was the other."

Nathan picked up on Christian's nervousness as a cat might pick up on the scent of a mouse. His gaze flicked from the floor to Christian's face as he spoke, scrutinizing, studying. Not only this but he was storing the man's words in his mind for future reference; one never knew when the smallest and most seemingly insignificant bit of information would come in useful.

Sir Dunbar couldn't help a laugh at Christian's mention of his antics; certainly looking like the prince would come in useful, not only for playing jokes but for other matters as well. Although, now he came to think of it, he was lucky he didn't resemble royalty, considering his...profession.

"I’m terribly sorry, sir. Have we met before? I can’t seem to remember."

As the attention of the princess returned to him, Nathan's gaze in turn returned to her. She was smiling kindly at him, which he appreciated, feeling somewhat ill at ease in the situation, out of place even.

"Sir Nathan Dunbar, Your Highness, and your most obedient subject."

This being said, Dunbar bowed again, feeling it wouldn't be his place to return the smile she'd bestowed on him.

(ooc: Shamelessly stolen Shakespeare quote! -pokes Nathan's last comment- If anyone wants to know random trivia. XD Replace the Nathan Dunbar with James Tyrrell.)

[Di]

"Sir Nathan Dunbar, Your Highness, and your most obedient subject."

Adalia couldn’t help but allow pleasant surprise to reflect in her eyes towards Sir Nathan. He seemed to be quite a well-mannered gentleman, very humble. He seemed to highly respect her as royalty, and Adalia’s smile widened. In response, she personally curtsied, bowing her head. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Nathan,” She honestly replied before straightening herself back up. She would have to make sure to mention Sir Nathan to her parents at supper. She would appreciate having him about their courts more often.

Adalia then returned her attention back to the esquire as he told his story of his and Prince Rian’s past, looking wistfully as she did so. There was something there in his eyes—a feeling that no matter where she was, she could feel home just by gazing into them—and that something gave Adalia a spark. She suddenly felt like she had a connection to someone; their brief interaction made Adalia feel like she truly existed.

Color rose to her cheeks, Adalia was certain she was blushing furiously inside as well; she was acutely aware of how embarrassingly starved her social life was. Not to mention her love life… She needed to practice self-restraint against this sudden impulse of infatuation.

But the Princess swiftly steered her thoughts away from that path—recounting the last time she had felt infatuation for Prince Rian, she became a nervous wreck. Her lovesick gaze was one of the things she never needed nor wanted to show.

Besides, she thought dejectedly, he’s here to court Odette. Adalia almost visibly deflated. Of course. All men were here today because they desperately hoped to be with such an exotic beauty. Not her. She wrestled with her feelings of giddiness, disappointment, and longing, trying to reason with them that it just wouldn't have happened anyway. Sadly, emotions were not logical, and they never seemed to understand the expression "way out of my league."

So, shoving her forlorn yearning into the back of her heart, Adalia forced a smile as she asked, “So, you are here to court Lady Odette, I assume?” all the while trying to prevent the sadness from penetrating into her tone.

[Mimi]

Christian's slight frown broke into another wide smile when Nathan finished introducing himself. He liked meeting new people and making new friends, and since they all now knew each others' names, they were all now friends. Something in the back of his mind, though, reminded him, 'But how can they be your friends if you lied to them about who you really are?'

Christian's happy expression fell a little at the thought. The voice was right; they didn't really know who he was. This was why he hated lying. It never did anyone any good in the end, and more often than not, it did the exact opposite. He was often berated for being too honest, and because of his honesty, he was quite useless at court where, as his brother put it, everything was about the "courtly games" one played.

At the sound of Adalia's voice, he snapped back out of his little reverie and blushed a bit at his inability to focus on the conversation.

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry I didn't ask for your name earlier, Sir Dunbar. 'Twas an offense on my part."

He nodded respectfully in the gentleman's direction and at the same time decided that he liked the man. Sir Nathan seemed very kind, and Christian naturally gravitated to people who were kind (though sometimes, people who acted kind weren't really kind at all). He hoped that wasn't the case with Sir Nathan, and anyhow, he supposed he'd be able to judge for himself. Christian brightened at the idea. Yes, as an esquire, he wasn't as restricted in the people he spent his time with.

When he looked back to the Princess, he found she had started staring intently at him again, and the same nervousness he'd worked so hard to keep down ruptured under her gaze.

"Ummm..." he murmured, feeling his face grow very hot.

Thank God she started speaking; talking would surely take his mind off his nervousness.

“So, you are here to court Lady Odette, I assume?”

...He was wrong. He blanched and found himself at a loss for words as his mind struggled to wrap around what she said. Court? Lady Odette? Who was this Lady Odette he kept hearing so much about?

...

Something clicked. Christian turned to look back up and down the procession for the second time, and it was only during this second inspection that he noticed a good number of the men were, well...a good ten years his brother's elder. His brother only liked to make friends with men his own age.

He turned back to the Princess, and as quickly as his face had blanched, it flushed beet red.

"Oh! Ummm...ummmmm..."

Oh dear, how terribly embarrassing! And this entire time he'd thought he'd been waiting to see his brother! How could he voice his mistake without sounding like a complete dunce? His new friends surely thought him the fool now, but...but...maybe he could still salvage the situation?

"Oh, well, ummm...ummmmm...o-o-of course, of course!" He blushed harder as he said the words and looked down, unable to hold the Princess's gaze for any longer.

"W-w-w-why else w-w-would I-i-i b-be standing in l-line?" he asked, stuttering for all his life's worth and laughing nervously intermittently.

Well! Well, well, well, well...

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Christian felt as if he were a flower wilting under the relentless sun. It wouldn't have been an exaggeration if someone said he was dying at the moment.

Well, well, well...i-it wasn't that bad? After all, he was going to marry anyway, so - so why...why not choose his own poison, as his brother would say? At the thought of his brother, Christian instantly felt better. That was what his brother had done, hadn't it? His brother came to Regina to "choose his own poison", and if that was what his brother had done, then Christian would follow suit.

He sighed, the blush having died down just slightly as he continued to fidget with his fingers and refuse to meet the Princess or Sir Dunbar's eyes.

"Ummm...ummmm...w-w-who i-i-is L-l-lady O-Odette, a-again...?"

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[Nessie]

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Nathan,”

Sir Dunbar inclined his head, a rare smile gracing his angular features.

"'Tis all the more to make yours, Your Highness," he replied.

And indeed it was. Nathan knew Adalia, of course, but could never recall having actually talked to her or met her properly in person. He moved within the lower ranks of the nobility, so to be acquainted with royalty, in his opinion, earned him some well deserved respect. Or at least it would when he told others about this important, if not brief, meeting.

There was something going on between Princess Adalia and Christian...some tangible emotion. Sir Dunbar could feel it. He could pick up on emotions like a predator sensing its prey, a talent that came in useful in his line of work. The princess blushed when she looked at Christian, and her smile was obviously forced; painfully so. She was hiding something.

And as for Christian, well...Dunbar raised an eyebrow almost involuntarily at the man's stuttering, but hurriedly re-arranged his expression for fear of reprimand from either of his companions.

The stuttering, the nervous laughter, the blushing...something was clearly amiss here. Sir Dunbar was burning with curiosity to discover what it was, but knew now was not the time nor the place to try and figure such things out (not that either party would have consented him asking them what was going on at any rate).

"Ummm...ummmm...w-w-who i-i-is L-l-lady O-Odette, a-again...?"

Good God, was this man clueless; almost as bad as the ridiculous Duke of Moorsholm! Nathan scoffed inwardly, with an internal roll of his eyes. The man may have been an esquire from Silus and not a Reginien...but if he was here to court Lady Odette surely he must know who she was?

He managed not to let his true feeling known as he turned his attention to Adalia once more.

"I believe you should handle that particular query, Your Highness, if you don't mind my saying so," he said, keeping his tone neutral yet with a degree of respect as needed when addressing royalty. "You know her far better than I, after all."

[Di]

"'Tis all the more to make yours, Your Highness."

Hearing such a compliment from Sir Nathan caused a sense of pride, as though she was accepting a trophy. She stood before the noble who, according to herself, was the most kind of any of the nobles she had met by far. Well, with the exception of Sir Geoffrey Mortimer, that is. But Adalia was one of the dissenting few of royalty who hadn’t personally conversed with the people of the court on a daily basis. She wondered how she came to be so nervous in the company in her own. But, she digressed, turning back to the conversation at hand.

"Ummm...ummmm...w-w-who i-i-is L-l-lady O-Odette, a-again...?"

Well, this bit of new was shocking, to say the very least. A suitor of Lady Odette, and Christian had not a clue of who she was. Adalia’s widened at the very thought as she reasoned a plausible explanation for his nervousness. Perhaps he was persuaded into the idea of matrimony himself, and to someone soon. Or maybe he was just so anxious he had forgotten who he was greeting. Or maybe… this was his very first time courting a woman. Oh, the poor thing! She knew how he felt. He must be a nervous wreck.

"I believe you should handle that particular query, your Highness, if you don't mind my saying so. You know her far better than I, after all."

The princess glanced from Sir Nathan to Christian for some time. Se chewed his lip absently, a bit apprehensive as to how to approach such a subject. Adalia eventually nodded in agreement to the noble. It was only expected of common sense. Adalia figured she could ease Christian to calm. “Lady Odette,” she paused, trying to pick her words carefully, “is my Lady in waiting. Her father has declared her to marry by the evening of the ball?” She searched for signs in remembrance on Christian’s part as she explained the condition Odette was under. However, all she found was a nervous man.

As Adalia gazed at him speculatively, she couldn’t help but think that perhaps… Christian hadn’t a cool this whole ordeal was going about. Maybe he had just gotten lost and headed in the direction he deliberated was Prince Rian’s room! Adalia gasped softly, placing a hand over her heart. “Oh Christian,” Adalia clucked with sympathy. Although unsure how to soothe him of his nerves, Adalia gently and carefully touched the esquire’s shoulder with her hand in a kind gesture. “You aren’t here to court Odette… are you?” She guessed delicately, tilting her head to catch his gaze, only to comfort him with a soft gaze.

[Mimi]

Christian chanced a flustered glance at Sir Dunbar when the man handed his question off to the Princess. He wondered what the noble thought of him. Surely he didn't like him or at least thought him very daft. It was hard for Christian to make friends in the Silian court for this exact reason. They were all so sure of themselves and of their futures and frankly liked his brother more than they did him. Christian tagged along behind Rian as his shadow, and everything he did and said attested to that. Rian fitted in with the group; Christian was the odd one out. He fumbled and stumbled, stuttered and faltered. The only thing he was good for, or so in his father's eyes, was probably a political marriage. The thought, however, didn't really depress him; as long as he was in the least bit useful, Christian was happy.

He crossed his hands behind his back and continued fidgeting with his fingers there as he waited for the Princess's reply. She was silent for a while, and the silence made him all the more uncomfortable and acutely aware of his laughable situation. Here to court a woman and not know who she was! Really. His brother would have burst into laughter after which he would have given Christian a well-deserved reprimand. Christian sighed, but it was interrupted by Princess Adalia's soft voice.

"Lady Odette...is my Lady in waiting. Her father has declared her to marry by the evening of the ball?"

Christian nodded a bit at the words, attempting to feign comprehension and failing. He did, however, recall something about a ball at the end of Rian's seven day stay. At this ball, the Princess would choose her husband, and apparently, so would Lady Odette.

Absorbed in his thoughts with a perplexed and thoughtful expression, Christian started at hearing his name. His blush, which had almost disappeared while he was thinking, returned in full force. She sounded like she felt sorry for him. Sometimes, Christian did too though he'd learned long ago the futility of self-pity.

Christian involuntarily flinched away from Adalia's touch and avoided her gaze even though he knew it was incredibly rude to do so. However, the body doesn't always obey the mind, and no matter how much Christian wanted to look her in the eye and respond to her touch, he found himself shrinking back just at the thought. He knew she was just being kind, though, and appreciated it immensely.

"Oh! Well, um...umm..."

He refocused his eyes on the ground and blushed even harder (if that was possible). Oh dear. She had seen through him. (Most people did.)

"I...well, I...um...No," Christian finally sighed, deflated. "N-N-No, I-I'm a-a-afraid I-I-I'm not, Princess. Y-Y-Y-You see, I made a n-navigational error; I was actually l-l-looking for my - Prince Rian's r-r-room."

Christian refrained from wincing at his near error of calling Rian his brother. He forged ahead, knowing that if he stopped talking now, he might not find the nerve to start again.

"U-u-um, but Y-Y-Y-Your Hi-Highness. I hope you won't t-t-think it t-t-too presumptuous of me to - to meet Lady O-O-Odette anyhow s-seeing as I'm a-a-already s-s-standing in l-l-line."

He flashed a nervous smile at Adalia and murmured quietly, "S-Seeing as so many men a-a-are here to meet h-h-her, she must b-b-be a k-k-kind p-p-person and p-p-probably better than whom my f-f-father would h-h-have for me."

Christian nearly sighed in relief as he finally finished talking and tried to focus his attention elsewhere by glancing back at the line. It had advanced considerably during their conversation, but there seemed to be as many men coming out every second as there were going in. He chewed on his bottom lip. At least he hoped Lady Odette was a kind person.

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