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Post by Retrograde on Jan 17, 2018 22:37:21 GMT
Arno laughed. He never imagined that anyone would ever be able to fluster Aelin of all people. She had always been so proud. It was good, though. They reminded him much of his own mother and father. Although Aelin seemed to be able to take a joke better.
"Yes, let's," he said, leading husband and wife through the crowds to a table that had been set up in the courtyard. It was there so that the king might entertain people while eating, with a special throne-like chair set up for him that he found frankly embarassing. Still, the people wanted ceremony and Arno was not going to take that from them. He first made sure that Aelin was seated, pulling out her chair for her, before taking his own seat. On the table were all sorts of foods from smoked sausages wrapped with bacon and goat cheese to more mild foods like a potato and leek cream soup served cold. Little honeyed pastries doused in custard stood on silvery platters, and beverages waited in sweating pitchers ringed by fancy goblets.
Arno grinned. "Max, be a gentleman and make your wife a plate," He said teasingly. He hoped to be able to speak to Aelin solo for a second, if only to see how she was doing. Whether he would succeed was another matter entirely.
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Post by Zoilus on Jan 17, 2018 22:50:36 GMT
Make Aelin a plate? How quaint! But who knew her ever-changing palate better than him, at this point? "Of course, kinsman. I'll make myself one too, while I'm at it. Now, let's see..." He picked up a plate, and began walking around the table, piling it with the most likely suspects.
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Aelin sat down, and felt instantly relieved. "Thank you. I really needed this, coz. I'd almost forgotten how much of a hassle it was to be pregnant, but this one feels...heavier, somehow? I don't know. I just want this one out."
"Now," she said, giving him a conspiratorial look, "was there something you wanted to discuss, more," she glanced at Max, judging the pastries, "privately?"
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Post by Retrograde on Jan 17, 2018 23:09:23 GMT
Arno watched Max go for a moment, before looking back at Aelin. He cocked an eyebrow, and then poured himself and Aelin a drink of small beer, flavoured with cranberries.
"While I appreciate you were trying to help, Cress, when I sent you that letter about the whole Cassian matter I was sort of hoping you would only act if something had actually happened. Now my uncle is even more furious at both of us."
He folded his arms, but it was clear he wasn't truly mad or accusatory. "We are in something of a pickle."
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Post by Zoilus on Jan 17, 2018 23:17:11 GMT
Aelin cocked her head, and gave Arno a look."Rjillund will never accept the new Routaille, and we both know that. You have real friends, Arno, and that's the point I wanted to make. Alendron, and I, stand with you. Let that old fossil throw his tantrums. He can't do anything about it."
She gave a weary sigh, closed her eyes, and took a long drought from her drink. "But, coz, in the name of diplomacy...what were your thoughts on the matter?"
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Post by Retrograde on Jan 17, 2018 23:28:10 GMT
Arno looked at Aelin, sipping his own drink. "I have three bloodlines in me, Aelin. Merov, Galathion, and Cassian. My children will add Vyre to the mix... I want Routaille to be able to cooperate with the continent. I want all of us to be able to work together. There are threats out there that would overwhelm all of us, powers like Boterin that wield the forces of entire continents."
The look in Arno's eyes was sincere and passionate. He had thought about the matter a lot. "I am hoping that in light of the recent wars that have torn across Trevast that we can look to begin working together more. All of us. I understand that there will always be bitterness, of course, but I think if we keep up with these constant wars that just keep getting longer and more brutal that we are eventually going to either be crushed by our enemies or we're going to crush ourselves."
He sighed through his nose. "I think we need to let go of our egos." He straightened his back as he spoke. " Think of what Trevast could achieve working together. We could finally free the slaves in Boterin, eliminate them as a threat permanently. Great public works..."
He frowned. "Sorry, I am rambling, aren't I?"
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Post by Zoilus on Jan 18, 2018 0:06:53 GMT
Aelin raised an eyebrow. "Just a bit, coz. Just a bit." She hadn't been sure what to expect from Arno, but this impassioned plea of unity? Aspects of it were certainly admirable, but on the whole...misguided. The Blood of Arturas should stand together only to keep out would be conquerors, but anything else could never really be trusted, could it?
"I...admire the sentiment, here, Arno, but we live in the real world here. The rivalries between our kingdoms will only end when there is a new emperor, and not even then, truly. There might be another way, though." The gears in Aelin's head began to spin. "If you truly want to build this new Trevast, there is a way: stand with me. Aladez already does. Together, we three could outshine Luska and Rjillund, eventually force them to be Trevastine on our terms. Rjillund is the problem, the bulwark of every backwards thing in our societies: outmaneuver them, surround them with our alliance...and perhaps then we can begin with your dream?"
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Post by Retrograde on Jan 18, 2018 0:21:09 GMT
Arno observed Aelin, and internally he was incredibly dismayed. He knew that he shouldn’t have expected any better of course, but for some reason he had always held out hope that someone in the continent would be able to see reason and past their own egos to actually try and do something beyond simply glorifying themselves. Yet he couldn’t exactly rebuke her, now could he? Routaille still needed some allies, after all, and he knew that Aelin could be temperamental at the best of times.
“Aelin, you know I love you as a sister, and that I have nothing but respect for you. But what you are talking about here will lead to war. Not might. Will. We have just gotten out one of the bloodiest periods of Trevast’s history.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Besides, the sudden appearance of my Merov… cousins has me concerned. That’s really what has me talking about all of this. Apparently there’s a very healthy Empire down there and I don’t think they are just going to wait if we throw ourselves into war again. I am a Merov, I know how they think. Mark my words, they’re waiting for us to slip up somehow.”
He frowned at her, and offered his arms. “You know what? It’s Revolution Week. It’s not time for politicking right now. I’ve really missed you, Cressida.” He offered the warmest smile he had on him.
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Post by Zoilus on Jan 18, 2018 0:55:57 GMT
Aelin gave her fool of a cousin a forced smile. "It is. We should be relaxing, dreaming of better days...and I think Max has the food ready, I really am grateful you brought me over here!"
How could he? Why didn't he understand? Had Ferrus not told him off to his face? Had Routaille not already suffered one foreign intervention? Arno needed her, so much more than she needed him, and yet, every offer, every attempt at growing closer was being denied! There would be a new Trevast, with her at its head. Arno would understand, in time. Every single one of them would.
She looked at the plate Maximilian had made for her, and began to vigorously cut into the meat.
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Maximilian sat down. "Ah, the whispering of monarchs, eh? Not for my ears!" He gave Arno a real smile. "So, I didn't get a proper schedule of the Week. What further delights do you have planned for us?"
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Post by Lord Newbury on Jan 20, 2018 11:00:32 GMT
Marc Chapillion
Governor-General
Today was already turning into a nightmare, as Marc - temporary 'Sergeant at Arms' of the Kings Own Regiment of Guard - desperatly tried to keep track of the comings and goings of the multidude of dignitaries present. He was however, ably supported, the Green Uniformed members of the Guard regiment performing admirably despite the preassure they found themselves under. Each group of guard had been assigned a detachment of Nobles to care for, shadowing their footsteps - a tasteful distance apart so as to not interfere in their high society discussions and whisperings.
Marc himself was assigned tot the King, a fact that terrified him to his core. Assassination target number one, he allowe the treasonous thought to plague him, twitching as people passed to close to the Monarch, ever afraid as to what may happen. He had semi-drawn his blade twice already. He was beginning to understand why most Guard Captains became hard nosed pragmatists after a time. A waiting serf dropped a tray behind him, and he spun around - sword hand placed on the butt of his blade.
"Get out!" he snarled, hoisting the man to his feet and handing him to a Guard who removed the waiter with haste. Marc returned to his post, some three feet behind the King, off to his right. A small cluster of some four guards joined him in their watch - and Marc finally spoke. "I can send for your taster, majesty?" he asked, his voice low as he spoke to his King.
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Post by Retrograde on Jan 23, 2018 18:56:45 GMT
Arno frowned at Aelin, noting the rejected embrace. It seemed to be something of a habit of hers lately. And she used to be such a physically affectionate person. He could tell she was fuming, too. What did she expect? She was important, yes, but the Cassians were family.
He turned his gaze to Max, and put the thoughts out of his mind. "Well there is a Tlem festival in two days, I know that... But for you, I have planned a tour of Pyracle tomorrow, followed by a party just for the foreign visitors that night, then the next morning we will have a breakfast with our patriarch, Geron, and some of our government functionaries followed by a special session of the Assembly - then we will have a special lunch put on by the cooking school... Then a few days after that we will have a military parade. There is going to be a lot of free time for you to do as you like this week of course,"
Suddenly, he found himself aware of Marc Chapillion. He was a good man, hero of the Revolution but perhaps a little stern. Arno looked at his empty plate, them up at the man.
"Uhm... Well, actually, the food is self serve and for everyone so I doubt anyone would know which piece to poison and everyone who has already eaten seems fine, so... I think we are good."
He smiled at Marc. "You know, Max, the General here was instrumental in helping the Revolution succeed."
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Post by Zoilus on Jan 24, 2018 17:16:31 GMT
Maximilian beamed at king, "A busy Week, a busy Week indeed! And that's good, exactly what I was hoping for when I was informed that we'd be coming here. I don't know about that free time, though. My old avenues of distraction," he eyed a few passing courtesans, "have been, ah," he gave Aelin a sheepish look, "cut off. Still, mental discourse can be just as stimulating, no?"
With that, he turned to the General. "Greetings, sir! It's an honor and a pleasure to meet a real hero of the Revolution, well, besides the ones I've already met. Tell me, if you're comfortable with it, what drove you to the cause?"
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Aelin watch Maximilian and rolled her eyes. Was he trying to make her look like a joke? Had the Cassians sent him as a sleeper agent, ordered to constantly humiliate her? She had already told him: he could have a mistress if he wanted one, he could hire every damn prostitute on this Artis-cursed island, if he was discrete. And now he was giving this nobody general the hero-worship of a child? Where was his decorum? Where was his respect to his position, and to her?
Aelin turned to Arno: she needed to vent. "Don't be surprised if we can't attend a few of these events, with the pregnancy and all."
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Post by Lord Newbury on Jan 24, 2018 17:25:16 GMT
Without saying a word, Marc stepped away from the King - trying to hide his embarrisment at having not noticed the Monarchs plate was devoid of food. Idiot, he chastised himself, before gritting his teeth as the other Noble spoke to him. A desire to impale people like you? he thought, realising that such a reply to the mans question would probably not be all that welcome.
"I answered the call," he bowed slightly "...to depose the 'Mad King' and save the people from the ravages of his rule." he answered, almost as if quoting words from a text, his face impassive as he said so.
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Post by Zoilus on Jan 24, 2018 17:38:21 GMT
Max smiled but he was a bit disappointed with the answer. But he honestly wasn't sure what he should have expected from such a man? Perhaps the ravages of war had affected him more than most. "A righteous calling, then. Forgive me, though, I didn't introduce myself: Maximilian Cassian, at your service. And your name? I'm afraid I'm not in the army, so calling you general seems...a bit wrong?"
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