Post by The Radiant Dawn on Aug 3, 2014 1:31:22 GMT -5
Leona and her companions had taken cursory glances of the crowd from where they sat, noticing immediately that they were seated opposite several curiously small, furry creatures that only Leona was partially familiar with. The small creatures were only focused in front of them, everywhere else were humans like them. The effort and resources that all of them placed into their clothing was ridiculous to them. Even with their brilliantly reflective ornamental circlets the Solari were out of place. All around them was a sea of dresses, suits, and certain pieces of clothing that they could not quite categorize. None of it looked remotely comfortable to wear which only added to how ridiculous it looked to them.
The dress of Isabelle, which Leona likened to an exotic bird in how absurd it looked, was one of the pieces of clothing which drew special notice. Leona and her companions drew special notice from her, as well. Her shock was easily discernible from her widened eyes, as if the sheer fact that their clothing and armor was not completely ridiculous was a cause for alarm. She was quickly and preemptively silenced by a man sitting beside her, of precise relation unknown, but obviously someone with a degree of intimacy with her. Leona locked eyes with him as he did, while her two companions only tilted to look in his general direction. Were they not addressed specifically, they would assume it was Leona with whom anyone wished to speak. She was here for that purpose. They were not.
The man's foreign accent that was so closely in line with Fiora's lead to Leona immediately associating the two. He might be of the same bloodline, but Leona drew no further conclusions, for she was wholly unfamiliar with nobility and all its intricacies, especially of the noble houses of Demacia. There was a certain hint in the man's speech which immediately put Leona at odds with him. There was something about him that she disliked, only she could not yet tell what. "Demacia has, thus far, proved interesting." Replied Leona, ever so conditioned to the norms of brief Laconic speech. Were the man to want specifics, he would have to directly ask for them.
Post by The Grand Duelist on Aug 3, 2014 2:17:31 GMT -5
When Leona replied, Sebastien's eyes darted to hers instantly. He recognized her--barely. Some champion, correct? His lips twitched. As Leona gave her short but sufficient answer, Sebastien listened carefully, ears picking up the obvious foreign accent that Leona carried.
Sebastien smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling."Excellent," he said in reply, cocking his head slightly as he unabashedly examined the three Solari. Adrien gave the Solari a precursory look before focusing determinedly elsewhere. It was evident that he was not comfortable--although the reason, whether it was due to his proximity to the loudly chattering yordles, the Solari, or even his own brother, was unknown. Isabelle, initially following the conversation with dull eyes, turned her attention to the yordles, staring at them with delight as if they were some sort of entertainment.
"Allow me to introduce myself." Sebastien spoke almost apologetically. Sebastien Laurent. Eldest son of Luc Laurent, and heir to zee family throne." He sighed melancholically. "No doubt you met my dear sister, Fiora--we are not so alike, but I prefer zat."
He paused, poised like a viper on the verge of lunging. There was an air of learned culture surrounding the eldest Laurent, but it was tinged with a roughness that the stance of his body and the tone of his voice did not fully conceal.
"Now you must be zee leader of your people," Sebastien continued, a small chuckle slipping from his lips. "It must 'ave been a privilege for you when our dear King contacted you. A little advice, royalty does not always know best."
"Sebastien!" Adrien hissed, turning his attention back to the conversation. He seemed to have been listening in quietly, content until now.
Sebastien shot a look at Adrien and the youngest Laurent withered under his gaze. "What I mean is," he added reluctantly, "is zat King Jarvan must 'ave so much on 'is plate. Zat is...what I meant, of course." he winked knowingly, a small smile playing on his lips.
Post by The Radiant Dawn on Aug 3, 2014 12:28:27 GMT -5
Leona gave a brief nod to Sebastien as he introduced himself. Of course, he had to mention that he was heir to the family throne to her, even though whatever power he might have or was in line to have meant practically nothing to Leona. He was related to Fiora, as suspected, but seemed to not be fond of his sibling. In the moment he paused, Leona introduced herself in turn. "I am Leona." He might already know who she is. She thought to introduce herself if he did not. Her eyes briefly glanced toward Adrien, taking note of how he appeared uncomfortable, and toward Isabelle, whose attention now seemed to be entirely diverted elsewhere.
In an instant, Leona knew why she disliked the man, and came to dislike him further. A privilege, for them? He spoke as if the multiple thousand year old institution of the Solari were some minuscule kingdom begging for the attention and goodwill of it's larger and more powerful neighbor. The man's arrogance could very well separate his head from his shoulders one day, if he continued to say things like that.
The man could certainly use another barrier in his mind to stop the words that were coming from his mouth, for it seemed as if his thoughts were poorly filtered by his mind. Leona, of course, concealed the sudden spike of anger underneath the typical Rakkor mask of indifference. She assumed the man was never punished for a word he spoke in his lifetime, considering how now he even spoke ill of his own king. He gave a smile and a wink to her, as if he was intending to conspire later. He might find it disappointing that she was not a snake like him. Why do you say that?" She asked, curious to see how far he would go before he felt uncomfortable speaking ill of the very man he owed allegiance. Owed in theory, Leona thought. Leona was coming to see that the king might not have all his subjects on his side.
Post by The Grand Duelist on Aug 3, 2014 16:50:45 GMT -5
If Leona gave any noticeable indication of her irritation at Sebastien's words, the eldest Laurent did not notice. Absentmindedly brushing off some invisible lint from his doublet, Sebastien looked at the King's table, focusing on Jarvan. His King.So close in age, as well. He chuckled to himself before returning his attention to Leona.
"The Shadow Isles invasion 'as certainly shaken Demacia." Sebastien answered, twirling the ring on his middle finger idly."Not to mention zat our King Jarvan eez quite new to his role, zanks to zee work of an assassin." He sounded suitably remorseful. "But I worry zat our king eez overwhelmed wiz his duties and I find very little competence in zee Demacian Council to set 'im on zee right track, truth be told.No offence eez meant, but I 'ave a feeling zat 'is motives are not all laid bare to see."
He stopped speaking, aware that he was being cryptic but also just as aware that saying anything more bluntly would translate into "I think the King is unfit to rule". Adrien let out an exhale, apparently following the same train of thought. The younger Laurent sat quietly still, nimble fingers playing with his coiffed hair. His eyes darted from Leona to Sebastien to Fiora and to Jarvan.
Finally, before Leona could compose a reply, he spoke to his brother in rapid Old Demacian, falling back to his family's preferred language for secrecy.
"Sebastien!You are speaking too brashly. There was no reason to talk like that, especially to the foreigners. What if she relays this information back to the King?"
Sebastien cocked his head as he listened to Adrien's protest, face still turned to the Solari. His expression tightened, and his eyes wandered warily to the King's table again.
"Non, she wouldn't." he replied back in the same language, although he sounded unsure.
"Forgive my brother," he gestured at Adrien, speaking to Leona. "Such banquets unnerve 'im, and he was just wondering when zee food will come."
Post by The Radiant Dawn on Aug 3, 2014 20:34:28 GMT -5
There came the answer to one of Leona's questions. She had remembered Jarvan being a prince correctly, and now that the old king was dead, he had taken his place. In spite of her feelings regarding the man, Sebastien gave surprisingly useful information. His avoidance of directly stating his thoughts was obvious, and Leona had wished that he simply said that he does not think the king is a suitable one, as would have been the Rakkor way to go about it. He would, of course, never do that.
Leona took interest to the sudden emergence of a foreign tongue and its hurried and warning tones. Sebastien's justification was, of course, a blatant lie. He would not have adopted such a tone or an unfamiliar tongue if he was speaking about something so trivial. Nonetheless, Leona decided to play along and pretend as if she believed him. Leona nodded her understanding. "Of course." She replied in her normal tone, her emotions hidden under her ordinary countenance.
Post by Exemplar of Demacia on Aug 4, 2014 2:49:01 GMT -5
A few words carefully placed, and all were moving to their places. As Jarvan IV watched the guests settle, he took a certain comfort in studying their reactions.
There was an elegance to the seating he devised with input from his advisors and his father's notes. When he ascended the throne for the first time it had felt solid and grim, a coronation of somber certainty. Demacia would stand forever. He would stand with it. In greif, he had expected the feeling of cold security, clung to the comfort of power as he mourned his father's passing. He was the rightful heir, raised to take uo his father's place, destined to rule. All was as it should be, or so he wished to believe. The truth of his standing was much more frightening, and he was beggining to feel the currents of change pull. Nothing could shake the foundations of Demacia like the death of her King.
His small audience having parted, he took to his seat at the head table and watched his arrangements fall into place. Action and preparation were his allies. He kept his body and mind in motion, and it kept his new pressures and fears of leadership at bay.
The Generals took to their seats first, as if sitting for a feast required the same discipline as receiving a cavalry charge. They were used to organization without question and made it a comfort. They took pride in the obedience of their inferior officers, in serious and faithful service to crown and country. It didn't matter that there was leniency in Jarvan's announcement. The cold orders they prefered would never fit a state dinner full of foreign dignitaries. Regardless, the Army and Navy heads took his announcement as an opportunity to exercise discipline, their whole number being seated together only moments later.
That alone had a strong affect on the room. Sure, their actions would do little to shame many of the nobility into hurrying to their seats, but there were a few who would pay heed. Namely, the young nobles most indebted to the crown whom Jarvan IV had seated at the same table. They too fell into place and from what he could see from across the room, settled into their places amicably.
On the far right, the representatives of the College kept their own hierarchy, and as he expected, a combination of age and decorum had them seated as well.
Those seated in center, those most likely to let the world hang on their dalliances had little choice but to square away neatly or seem ridiculous standing in the open while all else were seated. It was a small victory, but not unappreciated.
He knew these people. He had studied them, including the Council members at his right hand, for years under hisnfathers instruction. Jarvan III had always referred to his relationship with the nobility as a "gentle war". With father gone, many would seek changes where they he had kept walls. Ambitions stirred and boundaries were probed. Doubts were voiced and loyalties questioned. It was a quiet happening, but he had been included as a Prince in his the machinations of his father's reign, the subtle political maneuvering and applications of Royal command. Still, he could rely on many to lean as they had before as if nothing had changed, and he watched them lean.
The spiritmight were tied close to the lightshields. They backed him at every step and supported him with somber council. He had always loved his uncle. There was no love lost there. His detractors, subtle as they were, were also a source of comfort when they could be relied upon to chafe and gripe in predictable ways. He set them where they would be at odds with one a other, played their grudges and dislikes against them.
It was the unknown factors that bothered him, the problems that preperation and preemption could not reach. Those would simply have to be given a chance to show themselves, and Jarvan IV resigned himself to face those challenges as they were revealed. Hidden animosity could be painted as shameful cowardice with the right brush. He would grant them that.
Jarvan IV watched the room with a calm smile that masked his anxiety.
Post by The Half-Dragon on Aug 4, 2014 3:25:53 GMT -5
Shyvana chuckled as Lux said that this was the way many nobles kept in touch, she didn't really understand why the nobles just didn't visit those they wanted to speak with instead of sending out messengers or holding banquets such as this one. But before she could reply Jarvan's voice rang out into the room and Shyvana turned her head towards him as he said that it was time to take your seat at the tables and that the dinner itself was going to start soon. Looking back at Lux she smiled. "I enjoyed speaking with you, Luxanna, but I have to return to my table now." she said and waved briefly before going over to her designated table.
Around the table she could see faces she recognized from both the Army and the Navy as well as some from the Military Elite. Sitting down Shyvana glanced over the faces that were engaged in different conversations. Some of the members of the army she couldn't recognize and from the looks of their clothes and the fact that they were here suggested they held a position of importance, though she couldn't remember having seen anyone of them in battle. Had it been for the Half-Dragon to decide she would have gotten rid of those in the army who were either crippled through combat or those who she deemed not worthy to lead an army as they had never been on the battlefield itself. She had suggested it to Jarvan many times throughout the years but always gotten the same reply and been shut down.
Shyvana remained quiet and put her elbows at the table, glancing over towards the other tables, she could see the Solari sitting at the middle table with what looked like the Collage at the table furthest away from her with the King and those who were considered most important.
Looking back towards Leona's table she could see one of the Laurent's speaking to Leona, Shyvana couldn't make out what he was saying but she guessed it was bullshit like the rest of his family spoke. The entire Laurent family had a thick stench of uselessness to Shyvana, sure Fiora might be able to use a toothpick in a one on one situation, but should she be placed on a battlefield she would get no one on one situations and her toothpick skills would be useless.
The Half-Dragon sighed and looked back at her table, looking at the different men and surprisingly few females who were engaged in conversations.
Post by The Iron Ambassador on Aug 4, 2014 16:36:35 GMT -5
From her seat straight across from the Solari group, Poppy silently observes the exchange between the Laurent men and Leona, shaking her head. The nobles were always playing their own games, working either to gain the King's favor, or to find cracks in the King's power in order to take it for their own. If these two were similar to Fiora in their boldness and self-confidence, it would be likely that the latter was their plan. She looks to the pair of yordle delegates on her sides.
These nobles and their games, yet again. She mumbles.
What do you mean, Ambassador?
Something new arrives in town, they try and use them for their own benefit. Sometimes, humans tire me so.
Don't worry Ambassador. After all, no one has threatened the Lightshield throne in ages... well, outside the death of King Jarvan the Third. If these nobles even try, they'll end up facing the spear of Xin Zhao. The young yordle delegate smiles at Poppy, whose expression is as emotionless as usual.
Indeed. I still find the whole idea that certain families are above others to be pointless.
As any yordle would, Ambassador.
Poppy turns he gaze momentarily towards the King's table, before turning back towards the Solari. They were an interesting group compared to others. Strong, honorable, yet cruel in combat. They didn't resort to backhanded methods like Noxus, yet they weren't driven by an ideal like Demacia was. Their goal seemed to simply be related to the sun itself. She sighs, staring at the young men of House Laurent with a look of determination. Sometimes, a simple look could break a noble's facade.
Post by Liliana Daysworn on Aug 4, 2014 19:47:56 GMT -5
Hushed whispers bent behind darkened corners of the palace was the only noise Liliana was concerning herself with at this moment, despite making her late for the banquet and despite also knowing that Jarvan would most certainly be against it. Queen Liliana found herself speaking to her one and only father on her way to the dining hall and was caught in a heated debate about what had become the norm for them. Lord Devrin Daysworn had become incredibly insistent and his demands were becoming more and more ludicrous.
"...having said that, I must take my leave. As you were." Without another word spoken, the Queen dismissed Lord Daysworn and swept away, offering no glance back. While she would have very much liked to discuss the very same matters which plagued her over the years, she knew that this feast was important. Not only was it essential it went smoothly for the sake of Demacia but she knew that her husband had set in motion something he very terribly wanted to see succeed.
She hurried along to the dining hall, recalling the names of those who would be present or at the very least, who they represented. The Solari of Mount Targon, for one. The Laurents and Crownguards... of course, Shauna Vayne would find no true cause to appear and no word had been given by the Buvelles. She remembered a few more individuals just as the grand doors of the hall and shafts of filtered light flitted into view. The doorman opened up the entrance just as she arrived and Liliana offered a nod as thanks before inhaling deeply and walked in.
Making her way to the table in which Jarvan was seated, she offered a high head and a gentle smile as she passed by, turning only when she had reached her place. "Apologies, my King," Liliana said softly, her dress rustling as she moved to seat herself. She was dressed in something simple yet elegant, muted against the bright chandelier glare and the only thing that glittered was the brooch dipped over her collar and the ring on her left hand.
Finally situated, she could take a good look at who had appeared for this feast but not first glancing at her husband with piercing eyes. Liliana liked to think that she knew this man well enough and that she could see through his stiff mask as plain as day. But she also knew better than to try and console him in front of his subjects and allies alike. So instead she offered him a soft smile, genuine in its own right. "Have I missed something of importance?"
Post by The Grand Duelist on Aug 4, 2014 23:56:56 GMT -5
Sebastien opened his mouth to continue speaking with Leona but was distracted by Isabelle. She had been content to stare at the yordles initially, and had been focusing her attention between them and the other fine dresses that her fellow nobles were wearing. But as she returned to the yordles again she noticed a particularly grim one that, after a few short words with the ones next to her, dedicated her stare at her fiance. Slightly alarmed, she shook Sebastien's arm.
"What?" he growled, irritated initially. Then his eyes fell upon the yordle. Azure eyes narrowing, the eldest Laurent attempted to place a name upon the stoic figure, consciously aware of Leona's attention on him. He pursed his lips. She was the ambassador, another Demacia-Bandle City delegate. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Another useless alliance. Gods above, have mercy. But her gaze unsettled him--it seemed so determined. Had she been eavesdropping? He wasn't sure if he had been too loud. Either way, the female better not interfere with his conversation with Leona, if she knew what was good for her.
Covering up with an indignant sniff and a short glare at Poppy, he looked above the yordle, noticing a figure approaching the King's table.
"Our queen." Isabelle gasped.
"Yes, Isabelle. Eet appears so." Sebastien replied, a small unidentifiable noise growling at the back of his throat. He watched silently as the Queen sat herself, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Then, turning back, he met eyes with Leona once more.
"Our queen. Beautiful, is she not? Cream of zee crop." he stated, eyes crinkling, a small light dancing underneath the surface of his cold gaze. Isabelle turned,hearing only the last part, eyes glittering as she misinterpreted the target of the compliment and kissed him on the cheek. Sebastien made no motion as she did so, eyes still focused on the Radiant Dawn.
Post by Exemplar of Demacia on Aug 5, 2014 0:08:06 GMT -5
There she was, just as he was beginning to worry. Just letting her out of his sight had been difficult those first few weeks, now he'd grown accustomed to it. Her presence was a comfort. As she sat he found his hand impulsively grasping hers, and glad their chairs were close enough to permit it. When he looked at her his face flashed with the worry he felt, but the tension quickly melted when he saw the curve of her mouth and the shade of concern in her eyes.
"Nothing yet." And then again he wasn't so sure. Leona's words stuck with him, and he wondered at the truth of them. Still, he could hardly tell his wife that he was considering either that he'd chose some strangely misaligned allies, or that the sun itself was in danger of... going out?
Instead he idly rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, and turned his eyes to the tables in front of him. To their right the Council of Nobles sat silently as the household staff made ready it's army of waiters and busboys. He could see them lined up at the entry doors that lead to the kitchens, and he nodded to a organizers unspoken request to begin serving. As long lines of trays and platters, drink servers and food porters began their procession along the dining hall's long walkways, the Field Marshal General to his left seemed so stoic that it would have been hard to tell if he thought his seat at the King's table an honor or a chore. That is, if you hadn't known him from the age of twelve. Topher Vand was indifferent, like to most things.
That Jarvan could accept, but with the meal being presented before them, no one could say he wasn't trying. He made sure the palace employed the finest chefs in the city, or rather his advisers did. After hearing the Solari's reception of their first meal, he only hoped they hadn't gone too far.
Post by The Radiant Dawn on Aug 5, 2014 1:00:03 GMT -5
Leona kept her eyes locked with Sebastien for as long as he kept his eyes on her. She sensed some unspoken competition between them, believing the noble to be sizing himself up to her. Even noticing new events in the periphery of her vision, she kept her attention upon him. It was only when Sebastien broke her gaze that her eyes moved to take note of recent happenings.
Her eyes moved to where the curious small creatures were first. The name of their race still eluded her. Two of them appeared to be conversing quietly with one another, and judging by where the stoic one directed her glare, she could assume it was regarding Sebastien. Her face seemed familiar, but she could not place it. Her eyes briefly moving back to Sebastien, she could not help but take note of how absurd the reaction of the woman accompanying him was to the glare. Did she really think that she would somehow hurt her when she seemed to not even pay her mind?
Leona's eyes darted to the new arrival. Her dress was simpler than many of those present, but to Leona the minimum for the hall was at least slightly ridiculous. Her seat beside the king and the intimacy with which the two interacted lead Leona to assume that she was his wife. Sebastien was quick to confirm it for her. The undertones of his speech, however, spoke malice. Was he jealous of the king for wedding the woman he wanted for himself, or was there some other motive concealed behind his false expression?
Leona was so preoccupied with the undertones of the man's speech that she almost forgot to be irritated with the man's question. It was one of those nonsensical methods of speech of people off of the mountain, to back one into a corner with a question to which the only acceptable reply was a positive one and then somehow believe that the compliment was genuine. The woman, who Leona now solidly believed to be his partner, apparently believed the complement was for her and kissed him upon the cheek, a gesture of affection he seemed to entirely discard so he might continue their unspoken competition of wills. Leona's golden eyes did not break from the focus of his azure eyes for even an instant.
"Yes, that she is." Leona would play along with the man's word games, for now. He would have a difficult time judging Leona's actual feelings at the time, for neither her expression or tone spoke any more words than what was directly meant. She placed her gloved fingers around a glass of water and lifted it to her lips to drink, all the while steadily maintaining her gaze upon Sebastien.
Post by The Grand Duelist on Aug 5, 2014 7:58:55 GMT -5
Adrien kept his eyes on his brother as he continued his conversation with Leona. Conversation. His lips thinned as he watched his brother engage the foreigner in a staring contest. The Solari intrigued him; they spoke only the minimum and it was hard to read their expressions, something Adrien prided himself in doing well. His fingers tapped nervously as he watched Isabelle caress Sebastien's face, failing to elicit any reaction from him. His brother was not doing a very good job showing how madly in 'love' he claimed he was with Isabelle, and he glanced around cautiously. Luc Laurent had taught his sons to always grasp for power with one hand and have the other warding off underlings. As he looked, he was pleased to see that the nobles close to their table (certainly not friends of House Laurent--they were quite removed from their allies. Was this arranged? The youngest Laurent made a mental note to remember this) were currently engaged in devouring the food served to them.
Taking up a spoon and bringing some peas to his mouth, Adrien watched as Sebastien finally looked away from Leona, finally forced to blink. His brother blinked, and it was evident that he was furious for losing the stand-off. Stiffly, Sebastien picked up a knife and began cutting the meat on his plate, choosing to remain silent for now, for which Adrien was thankful for.
Power. It was something that Adrien knew his brother longed for always. It was something that could not be satisfied like hunger and thirst. Of course, the feeling extended to him as well, but he was never first in line for the position of Head of House Laurent. That honor belonged to Sebastien...before Fiora denounced their father.
But Sebastien was not about to let up. Dabbing his mouth delicately with his napkin, the eldest Laurent leaned forward again.
"You must be missing 'ome." he mused, twirling his glass of wine with slender fingers. "Perhaps you 'ave a special someone waiting for you to come back?"
Adrien winced, turning away. He knew his brother was just plainly probing now. It was something Sebastien would do whenever he met someone he did not like. Identify the weakness. Expose it. Strike. A look to his side confirmed that the yordles were close enough to overhear the conversation.
"Now you are just being nosy." he murmured in Old Demacian, cutting in for the second time. He rarely went against his brother--Sebastien could get dangerous.
Sebastien turned to his brother, anger finally cracking through his mask of smirking indifference. "And you, my brother, are getting on my nerve."
Adrien pursed his lips before glancing at the Solari, who retained their own facade of indifference. Another look back at Sebastien confirmed that he had indeed angered his brother. "I zink I got some sauce on my sleeve." he managed, excusing himself from the table.
Sebastien watched stiffly as his brother left, slowly turning his head back to the Solari. He closed his eyes briefly before resuming his attention to Leona. "Perhaps you 'ave a special someone waiting for you to come back?" he repeated.
Post by The Radiant Dawn on Aug 5, 2014 14:47:00 GMT -5
Leona staved off a smile as the man was forced to break off his gaze. She had won their unspoken little duel. With his attention diverted, she took brief stock of the food they were being served. Meat was far more plentiful here, and it was not in the form of blood soup as it normally was on Mount Targon. The horrid blood soup that made all who tasted it understand why the Rakkor did not fear death was the most horrid thing Leona had tasted when it first entered her mouth. She quickly grew accustomed to it, but it was at least a mild relief she did not have to eat it here.
She took a reasonable portion of mostly salad with a slight volume of meat accompanying it, not wanting to grow unaccustomed to what portions on Mount Targon were like during her absence. Her companions had already done the same. Onlookers might find it odd that they avoided wine, their glasses contained only water. She could imagine her previous conversational partner might find it mildly irritating that she drank nothing to loosen her tongue.
The man's feigned politeness hardly even so much as obscured how intrusive he was. What did he care if she had a "special someone", as he put it, or not? Just another one of his word games to try and force her to break. "I do not." Even if she did, her reply would have been the same. He had no right to know. The man's younger brother, who seemed to be his brief remainder of restraint personified, left the table, and now Leona could only assume Sebastien would become more and more audacious in his speech.
Post by The Lady of Luminosity on Aug 5, 2014 21:39:40 GMT -5
A voice cut through the conversation that Lux and Shyvana were having, causing the mage to look up. So focused was she on her chat with the Half-Dragon that she hadn't realised that the rest of the banquet had now gotten underway. Turning back to Shyvana, she let the other woman see her smile. "The pleasure was mine, Shyvana. I hope we can speak again soon."
Turning, she began to make her way through the crowd. At first she stopped here and there as she was caught by various attendees wanting to speak with the daughter of House Crownguard. Then a few former teachers and classmates from the College of Magic wanted to catch up. While the latter was something she happily accepted, the former was not - Lux's dislike of the flowery and two-faced talk of the Court was something she kept to herself, knowing it could reflect badly on her House if it was ever made public knowledge. Instead she tried to ignore the bustle and posturing as she scanned for a table-
Oh.
It looked like the two infamous brothers of House Laurent had found seats next to Leona, and judging from what she saw, they were intent on staying. Or at least, one was staying - Lux couldn't identify which brother at last muttered something and excused himself. The other looked like he'd gotten a foul bite of food.
A voice hailed her and Lux made a split-second decision. Her fingers curled lightly around her baton - more for comfort than actual spellcasting - and she bent the abundance of light around her, vanishing from view. A few sharp steps through the crowd brought her to the Laurent male's back - who she now could identify as Sebastien Laurent. Judging from his past antics, I wouldn't think he's up to any good.
She dropped the magic in a swirl, sitting down in next to the man. "I hope this seat isn't taken," she chirped, adopting a disgustingly cheerful tone and hopefully diverting the Laurent from his interrogation of the Solari representatives.
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