KING OF HEARTS - 34th SAUN 717
[/color]
Noble marriages were rare occurrences, Royal ones even more so. For most, they came only once in a lifetime, yet this was the second time Cassander would be saying his vows. Normally, the commoners would have deemed this an excellent opportunity to celebrate and seize the chance to drink themselves into oblivion, but this was an unusual union in all regards. The staunch Rynlists among the general population made their thoughts on the whole affair well known, and even some more moderate voices had joined in slanderous protest against the marriage.
But what did the King care for the opinion of the mob? Had half of them not already united against him in the civil war? And had he not defeated them utterly? There was no doubt his marriage had angered many people, but their numbers paled in comparison to how many had risen against him before. This too would pass, he thought. The anger directed at him would subside and the plebs would find something else to be outraged about. Perhaps a few seasons of lowered taxes would help encourage them to see things from the right perspective.
Cassander had left most of the preparation to his future wife, he had too many matters to tend to already. She, in turn, had made a few observations about the conduct of Xander Andaris and his wife, Celeste. Their marriage had been a shallow copy of the masked ball and presented a difficult challenge to the future Queen. She could please the general public if she kept up with the trend of humble and pious festivities, or she could humiliate the freshly wed couple and put their riches to shame. Both options were equally tempting, and both were equally unsuitable. In the end, she decided on a middle ground. The festivities would be moderate by the standards of nobles, but plenty coin would be spent on the hundred lucky commoners that had received her personal invitation. Furthermore, her husband-to-be had approved her request to open all taverns and inns to the general public and let them drink and eat their fill at the Crown’s expense. Thus, neither nobles nor commoners would have much to whinge about.
---
The twin suns were merciful, the days of unbearable heat that had caused great fires in four of the regions were behind them. But the King sweated. He was alone in his room, save for Harley, the dog Tristan had gifted him, resting on his bed. Bit by bit, the wedding drew nearer and with every passing trill, the responsibility resting on his shoulders grew heavier.
Back when his father and mother had still been alive, he’d addressed large crowds on occasion without breaking into a sweat, and just an arc ago, he’d outsmarted Veljorn and served as the usurper’s servant in disguise, risking life and limb in the process. Then too, the salt hadn’t been trickling onto his brow. But now, now he sighed endlessly, and puffed his cheeks before the mirror. Emerson was sweet and kind, but she could not comfort him, nor would she if she knew what he'd planned.
He wondered, at times, how many people truly believed his love for the Empress was real. Perhaps he had inadvertently succeeded in convincing her too. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and many boys his age would gladly swap places with him, but she was his elder by far and he knew full well what she was after.
His thoughts swiveled around to Tristan, his ally, who’d certainly be present. He was glad to have a friend rule in the unruly East, it was at least one burden off his shoulders. Still, he could not reasonably claim to truly know the eccentric Venoran and hesitated to think of Tristan as a truly close friend.
A few more names crossed his mind before he concluded, for the umpteenth time that trial, that there was no one he could lean on, no one he could utterly open his heart to. Perhaps it was the ill fate of Kings, to see enemies everywhere, to never be at ease, and to have a stiff rear from sitting on cold and uncomfortable thrones.
He stepped away from the mirror and walked over to the bed where the mischievous dog greeted him with lazy eyes. “I’m glad you’re here at least,” he whispered as he tickled the dog behind the ear. “I just wish they would be too.”
His eyes flicked over to the regal portrait of his father and mother, hanging high up the wall opposite his royal bed.
--
The nobility had been invited to the nearest shores, just outside Andaris City where they were instructed to wait for the arrival of the King and Empress. The commoners that had been invited by Emerson would join them later in Andaris temple. Upon their arrival each noble would be checked for possession of weapons by tall and silent guards from the Iron Hand. Each of the attending nobles, or couples, was assigned a personal servant they’d been cleared of weapons. Tristan was blessed with the company of a sprightly young fellow who, upon discovering he’d been assigned to the eccentric artist, appeared close to a nervous breakdown. Perhaps the situation would be confusing to Tristan for a bit, but when the boy finally had mustered the courage to ask for the man’s signature, Tristan would understand him to be an excitable fan! The boy held out a piece of paper, his hands covering whatever else was already written upon it, and practically begged Tristan for his signature. “I’ve tried acting,” he confessed, “but I am still not as good as you, I’m sure! I dream of being in one of your plays someday!”
A woman, dressed in meticulously cleaned formal attire approached Xander and Celeste and graced their presence with a proper curtsy before laying out the schedule to them. First, the King and future Queen would arrive on the beach to partake in the ritual of setting a boat aflame to burn away the past, though there would be a slight twist on the ritual, she forewarned. Then, they would all head towards Andaris temple by the most fashionable mode of transportation, though she would not explain what exactly that entailed. After the ceremony had been completed in the temple, there would be a great feast and banquet in the palace, and they were expected to give their gift to the freshly wed King and Queen.
Velaine had been assigned an older servant who explained the same schedule to her in his gruff voice, wizened by age. He seemed particularly delighted to be in her presence and revealed himself to have once have served under her father, when she was still a babe. When they found themselves somewhat apart from the rest of the nobility he lowered his voice. “I’d be on your guard if I were you. The King is planning something… I don’t know what, but I can sense it in my bones. An unpredictable man is a dangerous man, I say.”
Idgaffe was greeted by a young but experienced servant who seemed somewhat insulted to have been assigned to a lesser noble. For up and coming servants, there was little glory in serving house of Endor who were more mockingly referred to as cavemen in higher circles. The snobby servant dutifully explained the schedule to Idgaffe before excusing himself to tend to a “pressing matter.” He did not return, leaving Idfaffe free to mingle with the other nobles in attendance.
Hart would find himself far removed from the beaches, and far from any nobility. The Alliance, or what was left of it, had poured all its resources into seizing the unique chance presented to them. Their leader, Gilwyn, had passed away in a fire in Ashan that arc, but his legacy in Andaris temple still remained. Who would search a temple for a hidden stash of weapons, belonging to the Alliance? Gilwyn had only entrusted this secret to Hook before his passing, and now the prostitute was relaying the information to Hart with an ugly smirk plastered on her face. They stood in a back alley, ten bits removed from Andaris temple, but Hook still kept her voice down.
“It’s all taken care of,” she assured Hart as she handed him a forged invitation along with a bundle of clothes. “Go to the bath house and clean up, I want you smelling like daffodils. After you’re done, put on those clothes and head towards the monastery, you’ll recieve further instruction there.”
Gilwyn’s was not requesting anything, she was demanding. For once she was glad Hart was such a softie, it made him rather easy to pressure. Still, she hoped he’d have the gut to carry out his gruesome task. Before Hart left, she let out a short whistle to regain his attention. “Don’t get any funny ideas. Our agents are everywhere.” After that ominous warning, she vanished.
--
It was noon by the time the Empress and the King arrived on the shores just outside the capital as they arrived by closed carriage each. Cassander down the main road while Emerson’s carriage drew up from the opposite side. The King’s carriage was followed by the full might of the Ouroboros, numbering about a hundred in total. All were decked out in their impressive armour, each of them sworn to protect the King with their lives. They sat astride mighty warhorses while a small force of Skyriders circled above to keep the skies clear from danger. Yet there was a notable absence among the many helmeted faces of the guard. Those who knew him well would be unable to find Andraska’s face in the column.
Only the nobility attended this first part of the ceremony, and prior to the couple’s arrival, they had been ushered a little way onto the beach by polite and helpful servants, assisted by a small force from the Ironhand, dressed up in ceremonial attire. There were a few more notable absentees among the nobility. Ebony Venora was not present, nor were Andre or Emma Krome. They had each cited old age as the reason for their respective absences, but some rumour was abuzz if this was really the case with Ebony. One had to wonder, with all the horrendous stories about Venora brought before the courts, if Ebony was not secretly preparing to beat some sense into her family with her walking stick.
But any lingering thoughts about the where’s and why’s of the absent Duke and Duchesses were quickly discarded as both carriages were opened. There was a trill of hesitation in Cassander’s step as he presented himself to the gathered nobility. His clothes were of the finest make, green with golden trimming, and the crown sat snuggly atop his neatly combed head. For all the criticisms leveraged at Cassander, it could no longer be said that he was just a boy, there was a regal and mature look about him now, something determined in his eyes. Yet it was the reveal of Emerson Sands that drew applause from some in the crowd. The dress she wore was perfectly tailored to her slender form and her face was surprisingly unveiled. Even Cassander appeared taken aback before he regained his composure and greeted the crowd in his youthful voice.
“Honoured guests,” he started as his gaze swept across the assembled nobility. He read their thoughts without the aid of any magic. A minority of them were sincere in the smiles they sent his way while the vast majority considered the whole marriage an affront, but one they’d permit. His eyes narrowed for a trill as he considered who among them were the conspirators vying for the throne. There was always someone. His head turned to Emerson as he squeezed the lie past his lips, “Love.”
Emerson replied with a sweet smile before his eyes returned to the crowd. “Some among you do not approve of this marriage,” his voice was stern. “To you I say, fear not. But before I speak of the future, before dear Emerson becomes Queen, I must clear you off your debts.” He folded his hands behind his back as he spoke, his voice was carried forward by the wind. “Some of you have rebelled against my reign, and I forgive you. Some of you have sinned, and I forgive you. Some of you,” his eyes turned to Emerson, “have gleaned something worthwhile in me. I forgive you too for that mistake, dear Emerson. Now, let us leave the past behind.”
An large, old sloop, filled with firewood, rested somewhat further along the shore, closer to the water. After a short march there, all nobility were handed a lit torch and asked to form a circle around the boat. This time it was Emerson who spoke first. “Let us burn the past, together, and let us kindle a new light into the world.”
But what did the King care for the opinion of the mob? Had half of them not already united against him in the civil war? And had he not defeated them utterly? There was no doubt his marriage had angered many people, but their numbers paled in comparison to how many had risen against him before. This too would pass, he thought. The anger directed at him would subside and the plebs would find something else to be outraged about. Perhaps a few seasons of lowered taxes would help encourage them to see things from the right perspective.
Cassander had left most of the preparation to his future wife, he had too many matters to tend to already. She, in turn, had made a few observations about the conduct of Xander Andaris and his wife, Celeste. Their marriage had been a shallow copy of the masked ball and presented a difficult challenge to the future Queen. She could please the general public if she kept up with the trend of humble and pious festivities, or she could humiliate the freshly wed couple and put their riches to shame. Both options were equally tempting, and both were equally unsuitable. In the end, she decided on a middle ground. The festivities would be moderate by the standards of nobles, but plenty coin would be spent on the hundred lucky commoners that had received her personal invitation. Furthermore, her husband-to-be had approved her request to open all taverns and inns to the general public and let them drink and eat their fill at the Crown’s expense. Thus, neither nobles nor commoners would have much to whinge about.
---
The twin suns were merciful, the days of unbearable heat that had caused great fires in four of the regions were behind them. But the King sweated. He was alone in his room, save for Harley, the dog Tristan had gifted him, resting on his bed. Bit by bit, the wedding drew nearer and with every passing trill, the responsibility resting on his shoulders grew heavier.
Back when his father and mother had still been alive, he’d addressed large crowds on occasion without breaking into a sweat, and just an arc ago, he’d outsmarted Veljorn and served as the usurper’s servant in disguise, risking life and limb in the process. Then too, the salt hadn’t been trickling onto his brow. But now, now he sighed endlessly, and puffed his cheeks before the mirror. Emerson was sweet and kind, but she could not comfort him, nor would she if she knew what he'd planned.
He wondered, at times, how many people truly believed his love for the Empress was real. Perhaps he had inadvertently succeeded in convincing her too. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and many boys his age would gladly swap places with him, but she was his elder by far and he knew full well what she was after.
His thoughts swiveled around to Tristan, his ally, who’d certainly be present. He was glad to have a friend rule in the unruly East, it was at least one burden off his shoulders. Still, he could not reasonably claim to truly know the eccentric Venoran and hesitated to think of Tristan as a truly close friend.
A few more names crossed his mind before he concluded, for the umpteenth time that trial, that there was no one he could lean on, no one he could utterly open his heart to. Perhaps it was the ill fate of Kings, to see enemies everywhere, to never be at ease, and to have a stiff rear from sitting on cold and uncomfortable thrones.
He stepped away from the mirror and walked over to the bed where the mischievous dog greeted him with lazy eyes. “I’m glad you’re here at least,” he whispered as he tickled the dog behind the ear. “I just wish they would be too.”
His eyes flicked over to the regal portrait of his father and mother, hanging high up the wall opposite his royal bed.
--
The nobility had been invited to the nearest shores, just outside Andaris City where they were instructed to wait for the arrival of the King and Empress. The commoners that had been invited by Emerson would join them later in Andaris temple. Upon their arrival each noble would be checked for possession of weapons by tall and silent guards from the Iron Hand. Each of the attending nobles, or couples, was assigned a personal servant they’d been cleared of weapons. Tristan was blessed with the company of a sprightly young fellow who, upon discovering he’d been assigned to the eccentric artist, appeared close to a nervous breakdown. Perhaps the situation would be confusing to Tristan for a bit, but when the boy finally had mustered the courage to ask for the man’s signature, Tristan would understand him to be an excitable fan! The boy held out a piece of paper, his hands covering whatever else was already written upon it, and practically begged Tristan for his signature. “I’ve tried acting,” he confessed, “but I am still not as good as you, I’m sure! I dream of being in one of your plays someday!”
A woman, dressed in meticulously cleaned formal attire approached Xander and Celeste and graced their presence with a proper curtsy before laying out the schedule to them. First, the King and future Queen would arrive on the beach to partake in the ritual of setting a boat aflame to burn away the past, though there would be a slight twist on the ritual, she forewarned. Then, they would all head towards Andaris temple by the most fashionable mode of transportation, though she would not explain what exactly that entailed. After the ceremony had been completed in the temple, there would be a great feast and banquet in the palace, and they were expected to give their gift to the freshly wed King and Queen.
Velaine had been assigned an older servant who explained the same schedule to her in his gruff voice, wizened by age. He seemed particularly delighted to be in her presence and revealed himself to have once have served under her father, when she was still a babe. When they found themselves somewhat apart from the rest of the nobility he lowered his voice. “I’d be on your guard if I were you. The King is planning something… I don’t know what, but I can sense it in my bones. An unpredictable man is a dangerous man, I say.”
Idgaffe was greeted by a young but experienced servant who seemed somewhat insulted to have been assigned to a lesser noble. For up and coming servants, there was little glory in serving house of Endor who were more mockingly referred to as cavemen in higher circles. The snobby servant dutifully explained the schedule to Idgaffe before excusing himself to tend to a “pressing matter.” He did not return, leaving Idfaffe free to mingle with the other nobles in attendance.
Hart would find himself far removed from the beaches, and far from any nobility. The Alliance, or what was left of it, had poured all its resources into seizing the unique chance presented to them. Their leader, Gilwyn, had passed away in a fire in Ashan that arc, but his legacy in Andaris temple still remained. Who would search a temple for a hidden stash of weapons, belonging to the Alliance? Gilwyn had only entrusted this secret to Hook before his passing, and now the prostitute was relaying the information to Hart with an ugly smirk plastered on her face. They stood in a back alley, ten bits removed from Andaris temple, but Hook still kept her voice down.
“It’s all taken care of,” she assured Hart as she handed him a forged invitation along with a bundle of clothes. “Go to the bath house and clean up, I want you smelling like daffodils. After you’re done, put on those clothes and head towards the monastery, you’ll recieve further instruction there.”
Gilwyn’s was not requesting anything, she was demanding. For once she was glad Hart was such a softie, it made him rather easy to pressure. Still, she hoped he’d have the gut to carry out his gruesome task. Before Hart left, she let out a short whistle to regain his attention. “Don’t get any funny ideas. Our agents are everywhere.” After that ominous warning, she vanished.
--
It was noon by the time the Empress and the King arrived on the shores just outside the capital as they arrived by closed carriage each. Cassander down the main road while Emerson’s carriage drew up from the opposite side. The King’s carriage was followed by the full might of the Ouroboros, numbering about a hundred in total. All were decked out in their impressive armour, each of them sworn to protect the King with their lives. They sat astride mighty warhorses while a small force of Skyriders circled above to keep the skies clear from danger. Yet there was a notable absence among the many helmeted faces of the guard. Those who knew him well would be unable to find Andraska’s face in the column.
Only the nobility attended this first part of the ceremony, and prior to the couple’s arrival, they had been ushered a little way onto the beach by polite and helpful servants, assisted by a small force from the Ironhand, dressed up in ceremonial attire. There were a few more notable absentees among the nobility. Ebony Venora was not present, nor were Andre or Emma Krome. They had each cited old age as the reason for their respective absences, but some rumour was abuzz if this was really the case with Ebony. One had to wonder, with all the horrendous stories about Venora brought before the courts, if Ebony was not secretly preparing to beat some sense into her family with her walking stick.
But any lingering thoughts about the where’s and why’s of the absent Duke and Duchesses were quickly discarded as both carriages were opened. There was a trill of hesitation in Cassander’s step as he presented himself to the gathered nobility. His clothes were of the finest make, green with golden trimming, and the crown sat snuggly atop his neatly combed head. For all the criticisms leveraged at Cassander, it could no longer be said that he was just a boy, there was a regal and mature look about him now, something determined in his eyes. Yet it was the reveal of Emerson Sands that drew applause from some in the crowd. The dress she wore was perfectly tailored to her slender form and her face was surprisingly unveiled. Even Cassander appeared taken aback before he regained his composure and greeted the crowd in his youthful voice.
“Honoured guests,” he started as his gaze swept across the assembled nobility. He read their thoughts without the aid of any magic. A minority of them were sincere in the smiles they sent his way while the vast majority considered the whole marriage an affront, but one they’d permit. His eyes narrowed for a trill as he considered who among them were the conspirators vying for the throne. There was always someone. His head turned to Emerson as he squeezed the lie past his lips, “Love.”
Emerson replied with a sweet smile before his eyes returned to the crowd. “Some among you do not approve of this marriage,” his voice was stern. “To you I say, fear not. But before I speak of the future, before dear Emerson becomes Queen, I must clear you off your debts.” He folded his hands behind his back as he spoke, his voice was carried forward by the wind. “Some of you have rebelled against my reign, and I forgive you. Some of you have sinned, and I forgive you. Some of you,” his eyes turned to Emerson, “have gleaned something worthwhile in me. I forgive you too for that mistake, dear Emerson. Now, let us leave the past behind.”
An large, old sloop, filled with firewood, rested somewhat further along the shore, closer to the water. After a short march there, all nobility were handed a lit torch and asked to form a circle around the boat. This time it was Emerson who spoke first. “Let us burn the past, together, and let us kindle a new light into the world.”
OOC info
- Posting order will be established in the first round of posting, which is on first-come-first serve basis. So if Xander posts first and then Tristan, this will be the posting order for the remainder of the thread.
- I am going to do my best to update this once every week, so the next post is planned for Tuesday the 5th of September unless everyone else has posted earlier, in which case I may post sooner. If you can't make it, let me know through PM and we'll figure a solution. It may be possible to skip one or two posts, but some shit's going to go down, so I'd highly recommend you stick around and enjoy the show
- All nobles are expected to give gifts to the King and Queen at some point (I am deliberately being vague about when). It does not have to be expensive, nor should it be seperate gifts for the King and Queen. Try to think of something that your character would give to both of them, and remember, no one said it had to be a physical gift either Get creative!
- Enjoy!
