So it Begins

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The robust waning moon shone bright over the way that led to the castle of Teronna, its silvered light making the shadows deeper and more inclined to keep what was concealed in them secret. The party that traversed the path was small, only two men astride horses and displaying no banners bearing crests declaring where they came from nor their intent. As they neared the grand gates, one rider broke apart from the other and approached the gate. He presented a missive which was examined closely by the guards before they hastened to bid the guests entry. Without further word, the riders urged their horses inside. The echoing clatter of hooves on the courtyard stones bounced noisily off the surrounding walls, heralding the arrival of the visitors. The one who presented the missive fell back, allowing the other to advance further into the courtyard, clearly deferring to some sort of superiority. A pair of dark eyes examined what could be seen of the castle from within the darkness of the hood, revealing nothing of what they found in their smoky depths.

Meanwhile, inside, servants hastened about the estate, carrying word to the proper recipients that their expected guest had arrived early.

Another guard approached the visitor who was just dismounting his horse followed closely by what could only be taken as a footman who appeared to have been awoken only minutes before. "Begging your pardon sir but we were not expecting to receive you until the morning."

"I see." The newcomer murmurs, his mouth pulling into a ghost of a smile that did not reach those dark eyes. He offers no apology for himself or his purposefully early arrival. The journey, which had taken him the better part of a fortnight had been problematic enough with the early frosts this year, come early on the heels of the end of fall which would soon give way to the biting chill of winter. Orders from his king had brought him here and they would accept him...under the auspices of alliance, of ‘peace’. His King had sent him here for a reason; best be getting it on with. "Well, I am here now so, unless you intend to wait until morning, perhaps we should get in out of the cold." Cold indeed; his deep, rough brogue was colder than the icy winds tearing down from the north, promising a storm.

"Yes, yes! Do come in out of the chill sir; our stableman will see to your horse and I will personally assure your things are brought to your rooms." the old, harried servant blathered quickly.

Gabriel Rohan's lips curve once more in that apparition of a smile, the moon glinting cruelly in his eyes before he passed through the doorway into the castle.

[Cera Le'Orin]

Within just a matter of minutes, the castle was buzzing with the news of the arrival of the envoy from Arcisea. Servants became flustered, panicking that their king would blame them for being unprepared, despite the very fact that Sir Rohan was not to be expected until the next morning. He must have traveled quickly and some even wondered if it had purposely been done so.
Guards and knights watched the men proceed into the castle's main hall, eyeing them with nothing but a dark curiosity, while ladies whispered and giggled amongst each other, rushing down the halls towards the princess' chambers.

King Allarcik had already been alerted of the ambassador's arrival and was swiftly making his way towards the main hall. The servants made quick work of ensuring a roaring fire warmed from the heart as they served the Arcisean visitors warm drinks while their rooms were being prepared.
Owen, the stocky man who had greeted Gabriel and his companions, was quietly barking orders in the background for their luggage to be carried to the next floor as the king of Teronna made his quick approach into the room. A thick cloak rested upon his shoulders, hiding his nightwear, and a crown upon his brow as he'd offer the warmest smile he could summon.
"Sir Rohan...rather unexpected," he began, holding out a hand in search for the other's in a welcoming shake. "I do hope the trip wasn't terribly long."

Meanwhile, the ladies rushed into the princess' room, tittering away about the arrival from Arcisea, giggling compliments and gossip under their breath.
"Sarah, what is it? I was just about to slip into bed," Cera questioned, managing to keep the irritation from her tone fairly well. It was late, and she was tired.
The young blonde paused; hands folding before her as she offered a quick curtsy of respect. "I'm sorry, my lady...but your father has instructed us to get you up and ready. The men from Arcisea have just arrived."
Those bright blues immediately widened before they narrowed into what appeared to be obvious annoyance. They were not meant to arrive until tomorrow. Now, why did that feel so typical of anyone coming from King Julian's kingdom? Still, Cera wasn't about to question it. And though she was prepared to simply send the women away and go to sleep, she knew her father would be furious. This wasn’t the time for childish games when her marriage to Julian would ensure the safety of Teronna.
That, at least, was what her father expected. The princess on the other hand, felt that the king had other ideas. But that could simply be chalked up to cold feet and her ever-creeping paranoia giving that her idea.

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Eyes that were too blue to be called gray and too silvery to be called blue examined the entrance hall with short sweeping glances for the bare moment it took for the king to enter and greet the newcomer. Rohan received the offered hand with a firm but nonthreatening grip. He dropped his chin stiffly over it briefly before speaking, his coolness dissipating instantly with what appeared to be a sociable smile, "It was well enough Your Majesty. You have my sincerest apologies for our late -or should I say early- arrival." One side of his mouth twitched upward in a smirk that might give the illusion of humor, laughing at his own words. On him, it was...enigmatic, smooth, his tone flattering enough without being simpering. On anyone else, it might have given the impression of self depricating humility. "I am not usually one for long distance travel; it wears on ones patience after a time. Usually, the sooner I reach my destination, the better. I must say, your kingdom's countryside is something to be admired. Were I one to indulge in leisurely travel, yours would be a place to do so with relish."

Meanwhile, the young man who had accompanied Rohan was still in the courtyard, pulling bags from the larger horse he had ridden, readying himself to depart the moment the horse was unburdened and its rider had himself a drink. He was never intended to stay; Rohan was to be the guest, none other. Too many and Allarick might let his more paranoid tendencies run rampant as they were usually wont to do. Rohan could only hope that the man's daughter had some sense about her; she would need it.

"On behalf of my king, I wish to thank you for your hospitality in receiving me to your kingdom and your gracious home." Yes, he was early and it was late though not excessively so; still, nor was it what one might consider the proper hour at which to receive visitors. For an expected guest, the gaffe was perhaps excusable especially considering the his reason for being there in the first place. And that was to facilitate alliance negotiations among other matters of business including but not limited to Princess Cera's betrothal to King Julian. Somehow, the stranger from Arcisea managed to acknowledge this, gently reminding the king of it without seeming to do so on purpose. However, a close watch of those silver-blue eyes of his told the truth.

[Cera Le'Orin]

"Of course, of course...traveling can be very weary," the king replied, as though such was unknown wisdom that he was bestowing upon the younger man. "Your room should be ready any moment now, but please have a seat by the fire." A hand ushered Gabriel towards the hearth as he would find himself a comfortable seat.
It had been a bit of a nuisance to be pulled from the warmth of his bed, from the scent of that wench's hair who rested beside him. But such had to be done in order to keep the praise of the Arcisean king...and that meant pleasing his most trusted man. Now, if only his daughter could keep up her side of the bargain. The girl had been nothing but relentless in her arguments against this whole situation and he was already exhausted just thinking about the further onslaught that would surely come.

Owen soon came waddling in with freshly filled cups of wine; offering one to the king before holding the tray out in front of Sir Rohan, still trying to brush the sleepiness from his features.
And then Cera would make her appearance. She had been silent in her footing, entering the main hall with a cautious step, coming to see her father in one of the chairs and the unknown man across from him, his back towards her.
"Ah, my darling! How nice of you to come greet our guest," Allarick spoke, reaching out a hand towards her to motion her forward. Though there was a smile on his face, it was clear to her within his eyes that he was not pleased that she had taken so long, let alone decided to do nothing but brush her hair and throw a robe onto her shoulders. He was allowed to do that. She was supposed to be proving she was marriage worthy. The look she gave him in reply told him she cared little for propriety right now.
"Father..." she finally greeted him. Holding back a sigh, Cera pushed forward slowly towards the fire; eyes drifting to the side to fall upon the arrival from Arcisea.

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In a flash, the steely glint of those eyes was gone, replaced by that genial half smile as he bowed his head in gratitude and waited for the Allarick to sit before lowering himself into the proffered seat. The nights were just getting chill here, a thin frost coating the earth that melted in the morning sun. Back home in Arsicea to the north, the ground was already rimed with frost for over a month now, barely melting when the weak, watery sunlight fought its way through the clouds, the warmth not even enough ease the mildest of windburned faces. In the southern kingdoms, men talked of Arsicea winters as children might speak of monsters in the night, telling tales of snows forty feet deep and how the ice wind comes howling out of the northern ice fields making the barren trees rustle like living things.

Settling back into the armchair, Rohan removed his gloves, setting them aside just in time to receive a glass of wine from the servant who had greeted him at the door. Lifting the glsss from the tray, "Your good health." He lifts the glass toward King Allarick with a nod before taking a sip. "Mm. It is said your summerwine here in Teronna is the finest; that there is none to equal it throughout the kingdoms. One taste is pure...magic." A wry smile pulls the corner of his mouth at the slight, if tasteless, joke. Of course, everyone who had attended the signing of the Accords had agreed that in light of the surge of uprisings from magic users and mystics trying to overthrow kingdom rulership, the only way to protect the people, and namely themselves, was to bann the study, practice, and use of all magic and death to any who broke the law. Still, everyone knew of King Allarick's fanaticism regarding magic users and it was something of a private joke among those of the Great Council. "I must say, I quite agree." It was palatable though rather more fruity and sweet than he liked. Rohan had just tipped the glass for another sip when Allarick greeted someone just come into the room behind him. Turning, Rohan got his first look at the woman who was to marry his king, standing automatically and dipping his head. As he raised it, Those silvery blue eyes appraised her, taking in the defiantly wild hair that looked like it had barely seen a comb before she'd come down, her dressing robe, and her smooth skin untainted by the rouge powder some women used to give their cheeks color. When she turned, reluctantly he saw, to look at him, he saw the stubborn fierceness of her eyes and set of her jaw. She had fire, he couldn't deny that.
"So...I see rumors are true." He murmured in his low, rough brogue with a small ghost of a smile playing to one side of his mouth, a secret smirk. Standing, he reached out for the lady's hand to bow properly over it in greeting as he had the King's. This time, however, he held her eyes as he did so, taking his time with the social convention. Upon rising, he would continue. "It is an honor and pleasure to at last behold 'the most beautiful jewel of the known kingdoms'." And the most proud, it would seem, if the high arch of her brows and stiff hold of her neck were any indication.

[Cera Le'Orin]

Her ladies were all aflutter over this man who had come from their foreign ally. They giggled and whispered, falling into that love-struck trance that so many naive girls their age stumbled into. Perhaps the princess was the only exception.
They kept telling her that her marriage to Julian was a good one, simply because he was handsome. Cera had seen a portrait of him, and indeed he was handsome...but there was something about his eyes. Something she didn't like and couldn't quite figure out.

Now this man, who shifted to face her, had similar eyes- silvery narrowed hues, set into sharp features that turned to look at her while smirking lips parted to speak his appraisal. For a moment, she felt a coldness rush over her, an uncomfortable tingle down her spine as he took her hand...still watching her intently with those eyes. Cera held that gaze with all the strength she could call upon, offering a tilt of her head and lift of her chin to bring bright blues back to his own once he stood straight, towering over her small form.

There was a shift in her attention towards her father, her displeasure clearly seen on her face from Gabriel's words. She was unable to truly figure out if he was being honest, simply being polite, or flat out mocking her in front of the king without little care in the world. Not that Allarick would do anything on her behalf- this marriage had to happen. Nonetheless, it grated on her nerves and she wasn't about to keep all of those ill feelings inside.
"How unfortunate that the king could not come himself," she replied, that gentle voice laced with sarcasm, maybe almost with disgust. Apparently there were more important things to do than to meet the woman you were to marry and spend the rest of your life with. Even a letter would have been sufficient instead of sending the man with the hooking gaze...

Handsome indeed, but there was a darkness to him...and she wasn’t sure liked it.

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To his surprise, Rohan found that he enjoyed the steadiness of her stare as he bowed over her hand. How… . unexpected. It was not his place to enjoy or approve of anything where Princess Cera was concerned; he was here to watch, to listen, and to thread his influence where he could to be assured that things went Julian's way. Julian had chosen his man well. Rohan knew how to walk the fine line of propriety and condescension, admiration and intimidation. In fact, over time he had even come to enjoy the intrigue, the game. So, when she canted her head trying to look down on him with those haughty eyes though he stood several inches taller than she, he couldn't help the slight lifting of that uneven smirk. She was fencing with him and he found it...amusing. Her rage, as well, was enough to almost make him laugh, almost like a kitten that thought it was a lion.

When she looked back at him with that fiery defiance, he responded to her nearly scathing remark with one of utmost civility, unhindered by the husky quality of his voice, so different from the tones of what some would call 'a gentleman's'. "It is unfortunate indeed although for none more so than my king himself. My liege sends his deepest regards to the Princess." He removed a small, leather pouch from inside his vest. Glancing briefly to Allarick, he nods, "If you would permit me your Grace... " Untying the small bundle, he opened it out, the interior of the fabric a soft black velvet upon which the firelight caught on a glittering sapphire jewel pendant on a finely wrong silver chain. "He bid me to offer the princess this token as apology for his being unable to come himself just yet." He stared across the small space, that silver-blue gaze fixed on hers. "And as a promise to do so the moment he may tear himself away from his kingly duties."

[Cera Le'Orin]

It was strange, how much she wanted to looked away from those steely eyes, but found herself unable to. They were far from inviting, and yet, she couldn't seem to break her gaze. Cera would blatantly say it was her defiance and strong will, yet she knew that it wasn't. It were as though he was the lion and she the unsuspecting doe. She was immediately chilled to the bone. Maybe it was the sudden distrust, simply because of where he came from...though, it couldn't just be that.
Even so, the sound of his voice lulled her in just a little bit until the snake-like smirk made her realize what was happening.

King Allarick approached closer, curious about the small gift the ambassador had within his possession. "Yes, of course," he urged the other man to proceed, the widest grin on his face.
Naturally, Cera was a bit curious herself, though this was all the same spiel. The formalities, the praise, the gifts...every suitor who had gotten this far did the same thing, carrying a heavy hope in his heart that she might smile his way. Only, this time, it wasn't the actual suitor handing her this gift. And it was confusing her.
"Isn't that exquisite, Cera?" her father asked, pushing her to appear a little more enthused.
The necklace was certainly lovely and extravagant...but unnecessary. It was just like all the others, except this time, the Arcisean king managed to choose a stone that happened to be her favorite.

Vivid blues lifted from the beautiful jewel to find the silvery eyes of that enigmatic man, unable to even share a smile for the gift. "I look forward to thanking him in person then," she began conversationally. "Whenever that time comes." She felt her father glaring daggers at her and she stood up a little straighter. "Thank you, Lord Rohan, for bringing it to me. It was...kind of His Majesty," she added.

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'Sire, there is the matter of the gift...?'
'Gift?'
'Aye... for the proposal...Forgive my presumption but I was assuming you would wish to adhere to custom and have a gift presented to your attended even in your absence?'
'Ah yes...that... do go and select something suitable from the vault, Rohan. I'm sure it doesn't matter whatever you choose so long as it sparkles prettily.'
'Yes, sire...'

'Exquisite', indeed, his mind supplied unhelpfully. It was actually rather subdued considering what there had been to choose from but though understated for someone of her status, the gem itself - almost the size of a robins egg - was flawless. And, he could not help but notice - also rather unhelpfully - that it perfectly matched her eyes. When her gaze slid from the jewel to him, Gabriel knew he had chosen well despite her demeanor. The gift itself wasn't the problem, the fact that she liked it was. It annoyed her and she was taking out her venom on him. Very well, then, princess. If she wanted to play, he would play. 

"Oh it is my honor, Your Highness." he demurred, raising a free hand over his heart as he dipped an ever so slight bow to her. Then, taking a step forward, he held the necklace up for her. "May I?" Opening the clasp, he would wait for her to part that wild mane, those silvery-blue eyes daring her to refuse, here and now, in front of her father. His voice was quiet as he spoke, also conversational. "It is unfortunate that he could not be taken away at such a time with the frost having come so early this year."

There was nothing in his well-mannered behavior that could be objected to. Only the slight curve at the corner of his mouth, the tell tale trace of a smirk, that gave away what he knew of her mind, that dared her to speak it aloud, dared her to joust with him. 

[Cera Le'Orin]

It was very lovely...but she had many lovely things. That was the very problem. It was always an unnecessary gift after unnecessary gift, so after awhile even the most expensive thing lost its value. It were almost as though she could be bought with shiny and sparkly things, as if it would be enough to even win her heart. Despite how much she would argue and protest, her father would be quick to remind her that it did not involve the manners of the heart at all, but of politics. That was why this man was here. That was why she was being forced to marry King Julian Merova of Arcisea. And that was why she stood there now in her quiet, seething annoyance.

At his question, her blood ran cold and those eyes of hers may have widened a little bit. Cera didn't bother looking at her father who would undoubtedly urge her to simply oblige the man. So, after a slow, drawn in breath, she barely nodded, "Of course." Almost warily, she turned; drawing those locks of ebon curls over one shoulder. "It is very unfortunate-" she began, and stopped herself from saying anything more. What she wanted to say was that this entire meeting could have waited until Julian was able to attend, but she bit her tongue. And she had to bite it hard. That smirk of his made it nearly impossible to keep her mouth shut. Were her father not there, then, perhaps, she would have further spoken her mind.

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Even with her back turned, Rohan could feel the restraint in those bitten off words, the checked venom in the presence of her father and himself, a stranger, an unknown."Of course," he parroted in a soft, sibilant murmur. His breath ruffled the delicate hair along her neck where he laid the chain of her new bauble, carrying the traces of his mockery at the repetition, of these inanities he delighted in wielding to toy with her now that he saw he much it bothered her. The clasp secured, Rohan pulled his hands away and pivoted around her, hands held out to her as though in supplication. "Especially seeing as that, while he attends to the needs of the kingdom in the preparations for winter, he must miss the sight of you, your Highness." His eyes dropped to the necklace. "I do not think he would disagree in saying that you enhance the beauty of his gift rather than the other way around." Rohan really had chosen well. "We shall hope that his duties do not keep him and that soon my lord shall be here to tell you so himself."
This really was too easy and he was already bored. "And now, your Majesty," he dipped his head first to the king before turning back to the princess, his smile going from polite to baiting in a flicker as he repeated the motion to her, "Your Highness… again, please accept my apologies for the abrupt arrival. I know there is much to discuss but I would not wish to keep you from your beds any longer." It was an offering for the official greeting formalities to end and for him to be seen to his rooms. There would be time in the days to come for him to watch and learn what he must, whatever it was that his king, Julian, was looking for.

[Cera Le'Orin]

Her jaw visibly clenched when she heard his echoed words; a shiver running down her spine at the sensation of his breath at her neck. Suddenly, she wanted to be sick. The fact that this ambassador was here meant that this engagement was definitely moving ahead. Her father had betrothed her to man after man, and none had panned out. This felt different. This felt wrong. Unfair.
The weight of the necklace was cold and heavy around her neck, the jewel feeling as though it would suffocate her, glinting there against her collarbone. As lovely as it was, shackles could come in many different forms...

Attention remained on the floor while she almost struggled to breathe; his flattery nearly falling on deaf ears as she could see her father's delight in her peripheral. He appeared to like the necklace far more than she did...or it was merely the fact that he was finally going to be marrying her off. To a king, no less. Not a prince or a duke. A king. Cera said nothing, swallowing a hard lump in her throat until Allarick's voice broke the lingering quiet, "Daughter...what do we say to such kind words?" She could tell that he was becoming frustrated with her and she would certainly hear of it later.
Drawing in a long, deep breath, those vibrant eyes rose to the Arcisean man with only a hint of displeasure that managed to seep out against her will. "Thank you, my lord. You are...too kind."
The king outright sighed and rolled his eyes. There was no hiding the princess' annoyance, no matter how hard he tried. "We certainly cannot wait until the day of his arrival, Lord Rohan. Truly," her father drawled on in his flattery. It took everything within her not to openly roll her eyes as well.

Cera finally breathed a little easier when it would seem Rohan was dismissing himself. Thank the gods. "Oh yes, of course," Allarick said, snapping his fingers at one of the servants nearby to lead the ambassador to his quarters. "You must be exhausted, my lord. We can further discuss everything later. Please-" The king gestured with his hand towards the door. "Rest and enjoy what Teronna has to offer."
"Good night then, my lord," Cera said quickly, her back straightening before she didn't wait for her father's dismissal. She simply turned to leave through that door before anyone else could; her lady Jezebel bowed quickly to both before following swiftly behind.

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Seeing that simple and unassuming jewel nestled in the hollow of her throat was… unsettling. It made him feel unsettled... for nebulous, unidentifiable reasons that Rohan had neither the time nor inclination to chase at present, consumed as he was silently toying and sparring with the Princess. Still, he could not help but think that he really had chosen well. Even if she did hate the thing with every fiber of her being. That much was clear for him to see in how stiffly she stood, in how she practically flinched at her father's patronizing prodding, treating her as though she were a child! Rohan had to hold back a sneer at the man's words, checking himself not out of any actual respect or deference he felt toward the monarch but rather. He needed the king to trust him, to allow him to stay here under the auspices of treaties of union and peace.

At her forced thanks, Rohan was certain that the fate of the bauble was to be flung into the farthest, darkest corner of her wardrobe the moment she was back in the privacy of her own quarters. Something, that same nameless feeling or perhaps tiredness made him want to interject on her behalf, cut between her obvious defensiveness and his annoyance. "I am merely stating truth, Your Royal Highness." was all he managed to grind out through his falsely smiling teeth before Allarick was speaking again. Yes, he did hope it was soon. Fortunately, an attendant came forward then to lead Rohan to his rooms. He opened his mouth to bid her good evening but she was already dismissing herself, stalking past him, with her back straight and proud, her head held high, eyes looking nowhere near him. "Good night, your Highness." He murmured as she passed, head bowed and, this time, his gaze as well though her eyes were looking nowhere near him. Then she was gone
What was this? A mercy? Gabriel Rohan relinquishing the game so soon? And when he was winning, no less? This was not like him at all. But, again, Rohan did not allow himself to examine this behavior too closely, preferring to blame it on the long journey and the late hour.

He turned back to the king, offering one last dip of his head, this one fractionally less deep than those previous, before he followed the attendant out of the room into the shadowed hallways. The sound of the princess's retreating footsteps already long gone, not even an echo of them left in her furious wake.