Well, now isn't this awkward? [Anora please]

[Milo L'Evienne]

The Twenty-fifth Brightening of Melora, Winter of Era XV

Along paths that wound their way through carefully tended gardens with expansive parklands blanketed in snow sprawled beyond them, up palace steps once leaving her warhorse behind with palace grooms where two uniformed footmen opened twin doors wide, the young runner led Anora into a grand reception hall where they was greeted briefly by a tall and elder gent balding and dressed in colorful palace livery. The entry was resplendent with its gleaming marble mosaic floors and walls hung with priceless works of art, and burnished in gold vein and trim, high beveled ceilings with artful frescoes and hung with massive crystal and gold chandeliers. Down wide corridors then lined with portraits and marble busts of historic figures past, through galleries and past parlors filled with blue haired, blue blooded ladies at their tea and balding gents in their libraries and smoking rooms, up a grand staircase laid with crimson carpet and across bridges that made for architectural wonders as they spanned well kempt courtyards and hothouse gardens below. Passing by servants, Rosemen and officials alike, until finally they reached the outer offices of the Crowned Prince, where Mrs. Ada Stromb, more affectionately known as Nana to all who both loved and feared her, ruled her domain with a fearsome efficiency and on rare occasions…despite the Prince’s repeated requests to the contrary, a fly broom wielded with remarkable accuracy and enthusiasm.

The medium sized office that made for a first stop was a luxuriously appointed suite with midnight blue marble floors shot through with gold vein and accented by tapestry woven rugs. A deep beveled ceiling was hung with an ornate gold chandelier, and a scenic fresco landscape was expertly painted around it. A few richly upholstered chairs in crimson, ivory and gold were arranged along one wall and corner with a small marble topped table set amongst them, a fireplace with it’s wide marble mantle occupied an adjacent wall in order to heat the office during chilly winter months. Works of art housed in gold frames filled the room, consisting mostly of landscapes, seascapes and a view of the Imperial Quarter from a raised point of view.

A few closed doors occupied various positions along the walls, including a double pair carved from dark, rich mahogany and sporting ornate antique brass pull rings. Here stood a pair of liveried Rosemen each side of twin doors, armed and at full attention. Lastly, a mahogany desk was positioned aside of the pair of doors, behind which sat the Prince's private assistant. Rather out of place in her lavish surroundings in both looks and demeanor, Ada Stromb was a dwarf of middling to late patterns who was nearly as wide as she was tall. Dark brown hair seasoned heavily with gray and a silky beard were perfectly groomed and laid neatly over an uncommonly large bosom, rosy cheeks were prominent beneath jolly green eyes-and those beneath bushy, caterpillar-like eyebrows. As dwarven women went, she was a fetching example. Dressed in a pale blue frock that ended mid-hairy-calf and a stark white apron, she wore stockings rolled down to her ankles and just above sensible brown shoes. Her desk was tidy, almost maddeningly so, and in place of the usual brass name plaques typically found on desks of this nature-was a dented and chipped wooden beer mug that had most likely been scrawled on by a small child, and in bright red paint. It said Telath’s Bestest Nana. Greeting Anora with a flash of white teeth that showed through a gap in her beard, she said, ”S’rale there lass. Th’ name is Ada Stromb. Are ye after seeing His Royal Highness this bright’nin’?”

[Anora Eventide]

Anora floated through the halls, her skirts making a papery whisper. She smiled politely at her escort whenever her azure eyes were encountered, but did not demand conversation.
The serene expression of her mouth softened her jarring eyes, bright and unfeeling as gems. But she was so expertly wrapped in a graceful cadence, anything amiss about her person was no more than a darting blur in the periphery of one's vision.

The architectural details of balustrades and doorways were observed with an interest that suggested an enthusiasm for décor beyond cursory enjoyment. A rare peace overtook her as she poured her eyes over the flickering tiles of mosaics, finely laced together with gold.

A hushed compliment towards the ceiling, endearing for its child-like delight, "How lovely. Dappled like the sides of a fish."

There was something blissfully tactile about the beauty in work of art. It worked from the outside in, impressing pleasure on the viewer. When Anora contemplated something pleasing in form or color, her incapacity to easily conjure feeling did not lessen its influence. This sort of enjoyment could be calibrated and measured. Hence, it fit easily into Anora's outlook.

So it was with an uncommonly light spirit that Anora entered Ms. Stromb's office.

The festively plump dwarf was met with a mannerly curtsey and a pretty smile.
"Serale, Ms. Stromb. I am Anora Eventide."

Anora looked every mote a Daltinan belle, all courtesy and crinoline. A mien of calm kept her from appearing entirely idle in her thoughts.
"And yes, I am here for an audience with his Royal Highness, if that is possible."

[Milo L'Evienne]

The old dwarfess might’ve been a gruff one at times, as opinionated as any there ever was as grandmothers of any sort went, but she’d a soft spot too and a good heartedness that meant that Rosemen, Regents…make that Princes, and even some of the most jaded politicians in the land couldn’t help but be given to an abiding fondness for the woman. She smiled on hearing the name itself, Eventide of course known to be cousins to the Prince and there’d been that lovely Avrie paying a visit a month or so early, the white of her teeth showing only in small part through the gap in her beard and her eyes crinkling deep at their edges. ”Aye lass, you’ve arrived a month or two later than Himself was expectin’ ye I hope its not for any manner of hardship?” she asked and while it was true that the dwarf had little tolerance for tardiness or unkempt appointments, timeliness being next to godliness in her book, in this case her question was instead a matter of personal concern as was heard in her tone and seen in her expression. After all, Prince’s family, her family.

”Himself’s in his offices this bright’nin’ though while he’s no visitors at th’ moment I can’t rightly say what has him occupied at present. If I could ask ye t’ wait just a moment or three I’ll ask if he’s available t’ r’ceive,” she said and indicated with her thick hand one of the comfortably upholstered chairs along the wall. And thus began the rather complicated process of working her substantial form off her chair, an exercise carried out in a series of scoots and shuffles that eventually had her dropping the distance where sensible shoes met marble floors with a faint, but still audible ‘thunk’. As good as waddling then to the pair of doors positioned between twin Rosemen, she knocked thrice in quick succession and receiving her answer, slipped inside and shut the doors behind her.

It took a few moments for her to return, five or so, but ultimately she did and in the company of a tall human of Eunesian descent, he of middling patterns with an olive complexion, bright blue eyes, salt and pepper hair and a cultured and professional look about him. He was holding a thick stack of letters, presumably to be delivered throughout palace offices by his own hand. ”Himself would be pleased t’ see ye now lass,” Ada said to Anora while waiting beside those doors and ready to follow her back in, and when the gentleman slipped by Anora on his way out, he tilted his head with a ”My lady,” before departing the offices and disappearing into the maze of hallways beyond.

In contrast to the reception and its lavish embellishments, the design of the inner offices reflected the Prince’s preference for comfortable and functional surroundings. It was a large space with high natural beamed ceilings and dark marble floors, with deep and arched multi-paned windows edged with colorful stained glass panels spaced at regular intervals across the expanse of the wall opposite the doors. Accessible through twin leaded glass doors betwixt those windows was a neatly kept garden balcony with a small table and chairs positioned near the wrought iron rail. The room itself was appointed in subdued shades of green, blue, dark red and gold, rich but understated tapestry carpets placed here and there to help maintain the heat during the winter months. A massive natural stone fireplace dominated a wall to the left and a fire burned steadily in the hearth, while bookshelves built into the wall itself and filled to capacity took up at least two thirds of the right. What space was left on the walls was given to a silver-framed map of the empire, but more numerous personal paintings including a seascape off the coast of Eunesia, a portrait of the Prince’s own father, another of the lady du’Galle and their eldest daughter Hannah, yet another of these was a finger painting done by nearly three ordination old Hannah herself then framed and hung in a place of honor over the mantle, and these alongside an oft used dart board on an adjacent wall. The office was arranged in varied sections defined by groupings of furniture and rugs. Near the fireplace was an arrangement of chairs upholstered in the darkest red leather, a comfortable couch in tan and with a low and polished mahogany table positioned easily in their midst. Off to the right of them and against the wall was an understated bar with wooden replica of a twin paddle riverboat sat on it’s surface. A brown violin case rested upright in a corner nearby. In the middle rear of the room and in front of the row of windows was positioned a long and heavily built table along with numerous wooden chairs for the purpose of meeting with multiple visitors at once. And to the right of the doors leading into the office, the space including the bookshelves was a slightly raised area accessed by a single low step. A large desk was angled well away from the corner, a window to it’s right and the bookshelves to its left. Heretoo was stationed a trio of Knights of the Black Rose in private inner offices, their positions always in close proximity but as unobtrusive as it was possible for three of their kind to be.

Milo was still sat behind his desk with Sir James nearby at the bookshelves when Anora was accompanied inside by Mrs. Stromb. Dressed in buff colored breeches in a darker shade and a cream colored doublet with traces of rich bronze in its weave, his hair was cropped short and shot through with minimal strands of premature silver at his temples that contrasted noticeably against a darker field of brown, and he was clean shaven as opposed to a previous habit of keeping a neatly trimmed goatee. He seemed pensive initially though anyone well aware of his legendary dislike for paperwork might’ve easily surmised that his expression was born of lingering distaste for the stack of it he’d just finished seeing to, and the larger stack that still remained on the desk to his right. Or in fact a result of any number of other matters or concerns needing his attention these recent months. Whichever the case when he looked up and spied Anora entering, he stood and greeted her with a genuinely warm and welcoming smile. ”Miss Eventide, please come in,” he said while Mrs. Stromb quietly shut the doors behind them and stepped aside while waiting to see how she could be of use. ”It’s good to see you again, I hope the snows of Prime have not given you too much trouble on your travels, they’re especially persistent this Winter, and much the same in neighboring provinces.”

[Anora Eventide]

The young woman's cheeks took on a charming peach glow at Ada's question regarding what kept her from being punctual. It may have been a reaction of artifice adopted after a hundred tea parties, but it was no less becoming. Add to that, the fact Anora loathed being late. Order was one of her chief concerns and tardiness was a cardinal sin.

"I am embarrassed over my lack of punctuality," an honest admission if anything was, "I was kept by some matters of the hands and heart, but they are hopefully mended." A grateful twinge that barely skirted her eyes, "I appreciate your concern, Miss Stromb. It is comforting to be enquired after."

Anora did not encourage conversation with Ada or the Eunesian man, but she fluttered pulses and smiled softly whenever addressed. Hemming every instruction from her escorts was a temperate, "Thank you, kindly."
She did not endear and enchant with passions like her younger sister, but there was a calming appeal to the elder twins even manners. Where Avrie thrilled, Anora lulled.

Milo's prompt greeting almost made Anora flinch, but her emotions were so tightly reined, she only blinked naturally and curved her mouth pleasantly. His artless smile was equally disarming, she had not encountered something like it since her visit Jaedaxia. The realization made her privately weary.

When the doors clicked shut behind her and she was properly ushered into Milo's office, Anora descended into her skirts in a measured curtsey. Her greeting was a pretty murmur, reminding him that this was the quieter twin of the pair.
"Your Highness."
Anora inclined her head towards Sir James, as well, mindful of all present.
"Sir James."

It struck her as appropriate to float upright again when asked about her journey. Ah weather, an easy enough introduction.
"I am oddly fond of winter," considering her cool mien it was not such surprising admission, "And Prime's climate is balmy compared to the keenness of Vortex's cold." A whisper of a smile, "All that to say, I fared moderately well despite the snow."

The woman placed her hands atop another and rested them in her skirts and retained this lady-like pose as she inquired after the royal family's health.
"How fare Nell and your children? I hope they were not too high-spirited after the Cloudkiss festivities."

Her head tilted slightly as she waited for a reply and whatever else would follow. Milo had not allowed this visit to converse about the climate. In the back of her mind, varied thoughts were being arranged as she braced herself for slightly more complicated discussions.

[Milo L'Evienne]

He’d long been a study of expressions, of postures and demeanor, picked up from his father there was no denying in both practice and inheritance, enhanced in more practical terms on the stage and then practiced to all the greater extent throughout the course of his time lawyering and in the political realm. She was in fact the mirror image of Avrie, yet at a single glance she was as different in her demeanor as brightening was from darkening.

His differences and similarities with his siblings might be explained by a shared father but different mothers, different upbringings, a simple matter of nature verses nature. But even in this it was striking. His own children differed certainly, Hannah inquisitive, authoritative, nothing got past her to the extent that it was sometimes unnerving, Owen serious and introspective and Madeline the outspoken entertainer and the self appointed belle of any given ball. But here it was striking, even at a glance. Whichever the case, what lay ahead would not be an easy conversation, and not one he’d been looking forward to.

”Please, call me Milo,” he said with a smile as he stepped out from behind his desk and in response to her greeting, Sir James, unused to the attentions of the Prince’s guest, all the same greeted Anora with a gentle tilt of his head and a soft spoken ”My lady.” With a gesture of his hand towards the grouping of chairs near the hearth Milo added,

”I suppose my preference for warmer weather is courtesy of my Eunesian upbringing…please,” he said as they arrived at the seating area. ”Winter, in small doses though my children do tend to enjoy the snow. May I ask Mrs. Stromb to serve us some tea or coffee?”

He waited for her to take a seat first, then took his usual chair across a small table and nearest the bar while Sir James relocated himself to suit. ”They’re well thank you,” he said of his family and added, ”always in high spirits though, Nell and the children are away on a holiday at the moment, enjoying warmer climes than these. I expect them back nearer the end of Winter. And your own family, how are they?”

[Anora Eventide]

Taking a seat, Anora subtly arranged the bell of her dress within the chair. She sat straight-backed as a dance instructor, defying any comfort the cushions attempted to give her.

"Tea would be much appreciated thank you," the woman neatly answered.

When told the children were always in high spirits, she gave a low, surprising laugh, a velvety ripple of sound. The smile lingered as she said.
"I should have known better. Such is the way with happy children."

A facet of her expression shifted to something a fraction more withdrawn when her family was asked about.
"My parents are happy as expected during this season of change in their lives. Their birds have flown the nest and new members are being added every month. Austin is well, continually making a name for himself in Natura."
"As for Avrie," a gently spoken name, as if another misstep would sever her connection to it, "I have not seen her since Daltina, but she is keeping to Natura."

The neat little checklist of relation was accounted for. Strange, Air'riela half-siblings and cousins were removed from the intimate circle of proper connection. Anora could barely fathom their existence nonetheless their relation to her.

"Thank you for your inquiry, Milo. It is pleasant to speak of familiar things."
Though it was subdued, there was a sliver of enjoyment there. As much as Anora could, she enjoyed Milo's manner. He was diplomatic without excess artifice. Pity he was royalty. She idly wondered if prolonged exposure to intrigue would curdle his good nature. Maybe he would hedge himself in steelier figures who could bear the brunt of machinations.

"I have been traveling too long through unfamiliar cities and woods. It is easy to forget that there are faces and locales I know by heart."

But that was all the pleasantry she would allow herself. Even familial comforts were quickly smoldering wicks. The candle was burning at both ends, and the juxtaposed portions of her life were drawing precariously nearer like flames, threatening to snuff the other. But it gave such light.

"I do not mean to press dour subjects, but I also do not wish to impose on your valuable time, either, Milo."
A smooth tilt of her head as she paused.
"May I ask, what are your opinions on the Arium Directorate's political climate in relation to the rest of the Empire? My observations, I admit will tend to be more localized than not."

[Milo L'Evienne]

”Tea it is then,” Milo agreed with a quiet smile to Anora’s wishes and as an aside turned to Mrs. Stromb who was already waddling her way towards the small bar aside of the hearth. ”Coffee for me Mrs. Stromb thank you.” As to his children’s dispositions, his smile was a more crooked one, thus more indicative of fondness in his thoughts as he nodded his agreement. ”They are that. These surroundings can be overwhelming ones I think, it’s hardly what would generally be considered a normal childhood but they’ve adjusted well and Nell and I put a great deal of effort into providing them with as normal a childhood as possible, including time away from Prime when we can.”

”There are a number of children in the palace, both residents and staff who bring them for the brightening so they are able to interact with a wide variety of playmates and they’re quite fond of a number of our personal staff as well,” he said as the old dwarf wandered their way balancing a small silver tray and sat it on the low table in front of them. She was as proud of her tea as she was of her coffee, oddly enough it was an elven blend and while she herself preferred a more stout dwarven brew, Himself’s guests seemed to quite enjoy it for its somewhat exotic aspect…Never mind that the Sovereign himself had declared it, and all other variety of teas even the finest ones in fact given his dislike for the concoction, to be alike to hog swill.

”Sugar, cream or lemon lady Eventide?” the old woman asked and obliged before handing Anora her delicate cup on a saucer and handing Milo’s sturdier mug to him with his brew black and rich as it came, she excused herself with a rather awkward dwarven curtsey that given her figure, was more alike to a bouncing ball. Then settling back in his chair with a sip from his mug before setting it aside on the small table between them, he said, ”It’s good to hear your family is doing well. I mean to pay a visit to Natura, to Austin in the near future during a tour of sorts, your parents, well they are gracious to an admirable degree and they struck me as a pair who enjoy a full house on occasion.”

Of course pleasantries aside, there were weightier matters on his mind, on hers to perhaps though he didn’t know her well enough just yet to be certain, and she was so unlike her twin in that way, whose face in his estimation throughout their conversation had read much like an open book. But there was no avoiding it nor graceful way of raising the topic, and Arium was not the only one on his mind. ”Arium,” he remarked with a thoughtful expression after a swallow of his coffee before balancing the mug this time on the upholstered arm of his chair. ”Arium…Arium is a complicated landscape politically, of course all of them have their varied nuances to one degree or another, Arium has always it seemed had the market cornered.” Not to mention that her Governor was a pompous ass in Milo’s humble opinion.

”Before I delve further into my thoughts on Arium Anora and I am very much interested in hearing yours in turn, there is another matter that I am compelled to discuss with you, one that has been admittedly on my mind since that time that I received your letter of inquiry. But one in fact that I feel is better discussed in private for its rather personal nature, for which I apologize but needs must as there are concerns that I believe you should be made aware of in fairness. In your letter, you indicated your intention to marry and the name of your intended, Dimitri Wladisyaw, as it turns out is a familiar one. Are you still, engaged to marry?” he asked in quiet regard, much could be had by way of first impressions when questions were plainly put and so he did.

ooc: my sincerest apologies for the delay.

[Anora Eventide]

OOC: No worries :-)

Anora took her tea sweet and pale, a girl's habit more than a lady's. She was sipping the drink when Milo gave his witty summation of tangled Arium. Her mouth was hidden by the cup, but her eyes dared a wry acknowledgment. The expression was gone the moment it could be discerned, leaving one to question whether her eyes held it at all.

She had come prepared for a political discussion, armed with scattered knowledge on exports, hierarchy, unrest and symbiotic endeavors, a toned fencer awaiting her superior opponent's "en guarde". Such topics could whir the silver little machine to life, these intellectual pursuits that avoided the necessity of something messy as a heart.

But that was not where Milo struck. His preface made the inquiry a double- edged thing. Concern over Dimitri? He was no Venn, such a match would not have suited her metallic temperament, but he treated her with all the kindness he possessed.

Porcelain gently clinked as Anora balanced her cup on her saucer. As if nothing had been said on the matter, the woman regarded the china in her hand. It was delicate enough to see light through, likely some artisan's opus, intended for the highest nobility in the empire.

"What a lovely set," a soft murmur of appreciation.

She regarded Milo, visibly non-plussed. He could have asked her about the sort of lace she favored and be rendered the same degree of serenity in expression.
"Yes, I am engaged still."
She took another demure sip of her tea.
"Why do you ask?"

[Milo L'Evienne]

She was a mystery, but Milo more than suspected her mind was quite sharp. Intriguing. He’d not have minded a little political sparring and perhaps…Well with the topic he’d first have to dive into headlong there was the very real possibility that quite the proverbial damper might be put on the remainder of the brightening.

There was no way to ease into it, no ’by the way’ waiting quietly in the wings…if Nellie were here this would be easier he suspected and by the way, he thought given the time that had elapsed since he’d sent his message off with Barrett…Where the Aeternia was Parreyon? Then again, it was probably just as well. They were family here the two of them, even if connected only through marriage.

Still engaged…It would have been too much to anticipate that she might not have been…and it would have simplified matters a great deal. ”I see,” he said after a second or three and a slow nod. From the assumption that she didn’t know, and her reaction all important. ”I should tell you Anora that your reference to your fiancé in your letter was not the first I’ve come across his name, though I’ve not met him personally. He wrote to me himself in fact, I received his letter just previous to yours. Concerns about Arium, others related to Vortex.”

”Due to my desire to remain somewhat accessible to the public to the extent that I’m able, it’s not unusual that I receive letters of this nature or from those whose names I don’t recognize, who may also request audiences of sorts. But given security concerns amongst my staff I’ve begun sending those letters to the Ministry of Justice, cross referencing of names if you will."

"This is where Dimitri’s name struck another familiar chord and I apologize that there’s no graceful way to approach the topic, but circumstances have come to my attention that there is nothing for but to speak with you about both as an official, and more importantly as family with an investment in your welfare. I’ve been informed that your fiancé Anora is being sought by the Ministry of Justice, for a number of criminal charges that are based on first hand, eyewitness accounts.”

As for the exact nature of those charges, that would wait in anticipation of her initial response.

ooc: A thousand apologies...again, my mind is a befuddled one. Forgive?

[Anora Eventide]

A prolonged stare into Milo's eyes was hedged by a several blinks and a soft,
"Beg your pardon?"

She really didn't need the news repeated, but the phrase served as a pause for her mind to hastily gather and assimilate what it had just heard. Her tea was neatly set aside on the desk's edge, and she calmly folded her hands in her lap.

I fear I may be lost.

Dimitri and Anora were far from paladins, but she had imagined barriers they would not cross. Perhaps her collective consensus was not fully founded, but he seemed to love her well.

The lady's version of surprise lacked theatrics and spontaneous disclosure, but a shade of change had spread over her. Considering she had just been told a pinion for her hopes and a repository for what little heart she had might soon be smashed, her self-control was almost frightening. Time and knowledge might be able to turn this steel violet formidable if she cold maintain such discretion.

"This is unexpected, cousin," a more familiar term for a private matter. Her head bowed gently and she observed the particular sheen the light made on her skirt. The cadence of her breathing slowed and she let the announcement swim in her blood a moment. A quick lifting of her chin, and her eyes were almost made living by some gust of frost. The only element that had always seen her through.

"I am glad for your discretion."
A wan little smile as her fingertips brushed a curl from her brow, and a brief laugh, almost charming for its humanness.
"Forgive me my presumption for thinking I was called all the way here to consider politics."
She was moving deftly about an array of disappointments, granted she had not heard the worst of it. The swan song was not begun.

The last of her half-heart's fluttering and decrescendo was stilled with a straightening of her sloped shoulders. Her voice was still a lulling hum, causing the listener to draw nearer to hear it.

"What manner of offenses and witnesses?"

Maybe something easily amended, or a thing distorted by others' self interests. Then her thoughts turned to whether she was disappointed over not only the offense but his being caught. A slightly less virtuous spiral of thought, but Anora was merciless when it came to a lack of discretion.

OOCHow can I not when you use the term "befuddled"? Just one more post and you can reply as slowly as you like, so Anora has fodder to scold Dimitri over ;-)