A Veranda at the Sea Lord's Palace

[brigida]

Tristeza considered him silently for a long moment. After a time, she closed the gap between them, and placed a gentle hand on each side of his face. Gazing intently into his eyes, she whispered, "You know which choice is right," and she reached up to place a tender kiss on his forehead, before she dropped her hands, and made again for the palace.

[The Smith]

"Stop." he commanded. "Take off your dress." The Sea Lord turned to look at her, focus coming into his eyes.

[brigida]

Tristeza turned towards him, a look of irrepressible sadness in her eyes--a look of tremendous disappointment. "Will you not take this seriously?" she muttered hopelessly, shaking her head.

[The Smith]

The Sea Lord stared at her. "I want one last night. My night. And I will not hold back." He stared at her calmly. "I will have it to. No matter the cost." He licked his lips, "Then I will never see you again. Understood."

[brigida]

Tristeza returned his intent gaze a moment before she echoed him; "Understood," she said, and, as the late afternoon turned to a twilit evening, as the warm breeze turned cold, and the sun fell away from the earth, she felt death coming nearer; her white cotton dress dropped from her frame, looking every bit the ghost she would soon be, and as she walked towards the Sea Lord, she thought she could see fate on the horizon.

[Tristy]

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Serafina chatted amicably with Villisander as they broke the threshold of the sprawling veranda together, both smiling slightly as though on behalf of some small shared joke. Though the Sea Lord had not yet arrived, the table was already set for the evening meal. The place meant for Lord Delinal himself was at the head of the table, and was set with a determined precision indicative of a servent who feared the anger of his master--Serafina took an immediate liking to that chair, and took the seat boldly for herself, without breaking stride in her ongoing conversation with the Sea Lord's most trusted companion.

[The Smith]

A servant rushed over to Serafina, "Madame, that seat is for the Sea Lord."

Villisander sat, and smiled to himself.

[Tristy]

Serafina nodded pleasantly, "Darling, I bid you not to deprive me the look on dear Sergyo's face when he finds his place taken--you musn't let his rage frighten you. He's really no more than a grumpy pussy-cat," she told the servant, smiling slyly to herself.

[The Smith]

"Ma'am, he will have me flogged." The servant pleaded.

[Tristy]

"Then you had better leave," she suggested, as though this were obvious.

[The Smith]

"Please, just sit over here. I beg of you." The servant begged.

[Tristy]

"I am less merciful than mirthful, darling--it would be in your best interest to leave immediately."

[The Smith]

The servant went and stood against the wall, watching plaintively.

Moments later the Sea Lord entered, and walked directly over to the table. He took the seat next to Villisander, and then leaned over and whispered to the man. Villisander nodded, and stood. He walked over and spoke to some of the servants. The Servants started closing doors, and lowering drapes.

[Tristy]

Serafina rolled her eyes and pouted at the lack of recognition for her impudence. She placed both of her elbows on the table and held her chin heavily in her hands, sulking rather melodramatically. She feigned an apologetic shrug for the serving girl, but exhuded a general indifference none-the-less.

[The Smith]

Soon all the servants have left but the one girl who attempted to stop Serafina from sitting. Villisander grabbed her wrists, and dragged her to the balcony of the Veranda and threw her over.

Sergyo looks up at her and nods to the wine on the table, "Is that a good year?"