The Feast for Princess Alysanne

[The Smith]

"Unfortunately for you, I am also a Prince, and not a Lord." Aldric smiled at her, and dipped her low, "Since we are the same rank I need not heed your orders." He winked.

[Edric Stark]

"Yours, indeed, is just a rank." she said with a devious smile.

[The Smith]

"I am not deserving of my grand title." Aldric shrugged, "Perhaps that is true. I will admit my father was disappointed with me."

[Edric Stark]

"I can't imagine why." Alysanne told before she could stop herself.

[Horas]

Jul 31, 2009 20:22:13 GMT -5 The Smith said:

Wrapping his arms about her, Aldric lead her out onto the floor. He cast one look back over his shoulder at Toland, and it was pure venom.

Duncan tips his now empty wine glass amiably at Aldric in reply. He looks around at the various men reaching for swords, arches an eyebrow, then decides to ignore them. He goes back to eating his food.

[The Smith]

Aldric stopped dancing and stepped back. His face blank, "It was a short dance, and have a good evening." He turned and walked toward an exit with a steady gait.

[Edric Stark]

Alysanne went to the door the shorter way and reached it just a moment before Aldric did.
"Could we talk?" she asked him, biting her lip.

[The Smith]

Aldric looked at her, "Do you mean privately? Because we are talking."

[Edric Stark]

"I mean privately." she repeated and looked back at the table briefly.

[The Smith]

Aldric nodded, "Follow me." He walked down the hall and opened a door down the hall. Entering the sitting chambers of an apartment he quickly prepared two glasses of wine, handing her one and sitting on the sofa.

[Ollie]

Ryam slipped into a seat beside the Lord Toland and offers a slim nod. "That was good of you, setting the lecher back a step," he murmurs towards Duncan. "Good. But perhaps not smart."

The Lord Fowler clutches a bottle in one fist and takes a long pull from it. The liquid inside is chilly, and crystal clear.

[Horas]

Duncan blinks. He had met Ryam Fowler on more than one occasion, though the two were not particulary close.

"A harmless accident, Lord Fowler," Duncan says, "I am sure Prince Aldric will forgive me." He smiles faintly. "You should try the duck. It's very good."

[Ollie]

"Oh, he'll forgive you," Ryam confirmed, pulling off a roasted leg of the recommended dish. "Right before he lets loose a box of scorpions in your bed. There may not be better men to cross, but perhaps wiser."

After taking a second sip to wash down his peppered duck, Ryam offered his bottle to Duncan.

[Horas]

Duncan grunts, then waves off the offered bottle, opting instead to refill his empty wine glass.

"Aldric Martell does not frighten me. His sister, well. That's another matter. But I hardly think Her Highness will have my throat slit over a spilled glass of wine." He takes another bite of duck, then wipes the juices from his chin.

[Ollie]

"Maybe," Ryam mutters noncommittally. "Maybe not."

Abstaining from tearing off another portion of their meal, Lord Fowler instead changed topics into a more amiable tone. "How are your sons, Lord Toland? And your... daughters?" he gestured into the air, unsure of the specifics to the Ghost Hill family line.