concordancegrimoires | A Small Happiness: The Fete

To say that Queen Ashelia has spared no expense for this fete would be the understatement of the year. The palace grounds and gardens have been thrown open to any who would come to mark the anniversary of Dalmasca's restoration and the end of the war. A heightened guard is present to ensure that peace and order are maintained at all times, though they are kindly not obtrusive enough to make one feel ill at ease. It was the queen's wish above all else that her people be granted a brief reprieve from the pressures of life. A small happiness.

The entertainment alone must have cost a queen's ransom. There are dancers and musicians scattered throughout the crowds. A company of sword jugglers in the east garden. A fire eating Bangaa to the west. A lively group of acrobats flip and spin through the crowds, inducing oohs and ahhs as they go. The height of the evening is marked with a remarkable 30-minute fireworks display set to music by the court's musicians.

And the food! The queen has made arrangements for nearly all of the city's merchants to have a small booth to provide tasty delights for the party. Of course, none of the edibles are free, but they have all been paid amply enough that their base costs have been covered, so their charges for the nibbles are minimal. Most are offering finger foods and street snacks, in addition to the ample piles of nuts, fruits and tiny handheld loaves of bread. Pastries and petit fours abound in more than one corner, and naturally the enticing smell of spicy kabobs permeates the open air. The wine flows freely, at least until supplies have run out, though more than one person catches on quickly that Tomaj has watered it down. At least his ales are hearty enough to quench a parched throat. Cinnamon and mint teas are being offered to anyone who has drank their fill of more intoxicating liquids.

***

The internal party is far more subdued and dignified that the outside celebration. Only those with specific invitations are being allowed inside, and small wonder. Among the guests are the royal family of Rozarria, some of that nation's highest ranking generals, the young Emperor Larsa Solidor, a contingent of elite nobles from Archades, the Marquis Halim Ondore IV and his cortege. Then there are those who helped the queen reclaim her throne. She has insisted on their inclusion for their aid in the restoration of Dalmasca. This isn't as much a fete within, as it is a dangerous dance of political plays. There are smiles and well-wishes, but everyone present understands this is less about being friends and more keeping tabs on ones neighbors.

The entertainment present is like that outside, though in smaller in number and performers. Music is provided by the queen's own court musicians and plays all through the evening. While the entertainment has been scaled down for interior purposes, the banquet is anything but. The royal kitchens have been at work for days in advance preparing the most astounding and delectable creations they could: roasted poultry, rack of lamb, a whole suckling pig, little cakes shaped like birds and flowers, fresh fruits and nuts artfully displayed, wyrdhare pies shaped like rabbits, starfruit surprises in star shapes, tiny brioche filled with buttered wild mushrooms, toasted breads smothered in caramelized wild onions and melted nanna milk cheese. Truly a feast for the senses and not merely the mouth alone. The finest of the Dalmascan wines have been brought up from the cellar, a few bottles of Bhujerban Madhu as well. (Though the winemaster is keeping close eye on who has had how much of that.) If there is anything at all missing, it is the absence of drinking water, though who would choose something so basic when so much better is available?

((ooc: Feel free to use action or prose tags, as per your preference.))

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[Not too far from where Vayne is lingering is a party goer who is clearly not a local. For that matter, he doesn't have anything that would identify him as any of Ivalice's native populations. Maybe a young knight? Not one of the guard for the party, even though he's wearing armor. Plate armor, in fact, in the desert.

Ceodore often looks over to a very pretty blonde, where she's socializing and smiles. Clearly he's got it bad for her. Every so often though, he looks toward the palace. There are people inside that he knows from Gaia who he considers friends. He's somewhat curious how they are in their own world, but wouldn't dare presume to have himself announced at the gates. Doesn't stop him from looking though. Or potentially looking suspicious.]

[If he didn't look so out of place, Vayne perhaps would have smiled, but as it stands, he tucks a little more of the long veil he wears up again, inclining his head in a submissive gesture, polite.]

[Then, an idea.]

[With some haste, he acquires a little writing instrument and scribbles a note, using one of the spikier fruits to see it has a firm base - ]

[And he tosses it at the stranger, voice just loud enough to be heard.]
"Catch!"

[The note is rather simple - 'Get her something to eat, then tell her you love her']

[It takes a second for Ceodore to realize he's been the target of the incoming fruit. Mostly because he barely reacted in time to grab it out of the air when it whizzed close to his head. Oblivious boy is sometimes quite oblivious. He turns the direction of the voice though.]

Wha- huh?

[Oh wait. Message. On the fruit. He looks back up from the fruit to find the one who threw it.]

How'd you know?

[Still acting, still working within a set boundary, Vayne's shoulders slump and pinch in nervousness, shock, surprise, awkward. A hand touches his chest.]
"W-was it a secret? Is it untrue? Forgive my presumption - " [Oh no, Ceo! The random nice stranger is concerned now he has committed some faux pas..!]

N-no, you're right! She's my fiancée.

[The concern over a faux pas whizzes right over Ceodore's head though. He just assumes Vayne is making nice! It takes him a moment of looking at the guy to realize he's different than the locals. Probably the clothes.]

You're not from around here either, are you?

[That then says two things about this strange young man - he is decidedly not of this world (as if the accent wasn't a dead giveaway, which could be considered a sort of snobbish interpretation), and he is not from any form of royalty or possible nobility Vayne may even be capable of conjuring. At any moment, he almost half expects to espy a grimoire, if not expects to see one on nigh most of the guests considering the impeccably timed message from HRM Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca cheerily making itself known in his own book and leading to this whole muddled affair.]

[Then the clothes comment. Well, he's not so...silly or lacking. That's good.]

[Vayne pales and his head ducks, chin disappearing into the purple cloth about his neck.]
"My lord is...quite perceptive."
[But he brightens a little, eager to turn the page of the conversation back to the girl the plated young man has called his fiancee, a far more pleasant topic for his persona. Then there's a strange moment where he recognizes this young man is, indeed, young. He's...about Larsa's age. Give or take.]
"Such a beauty - may you be forever marked with heaven's bounty. Have you been acquainted long?"
[The feeling persists. Larsa would be looking at this point, whether driven by hormones or others, a sense of practicality even, and it makes something...ache a little.]

[Ceodore's pride puffs up a bit at the compliment paid to Ursula. She really is gorgeous. He's pretty pleased at being called perceptive too. He's not constantly oblivious, just a lot of the time.]

W-well, yes. Since we were children.

[Because he's so far removed from childhood now.]

Our parents were friends from before we were born and my father's her godfather.

[The smile is broad, genuine.]
"Fortune indeed does make itself known to you." [He is so young. Why does he want to see Larsa so easily inclined towards this?] "It must make for familial reunion quite entrancing."

Well... now it would. My parents didn't approve at first.

[For the same reasons that her parents probably wouldn't approve, had they been on Gaia with them as well. With no possibility of going home, matters of inheritances didn't matter anymore, making things easier for the kids. Still, sometimes Ceodore worries she's given up too much, faced with never seeing her family again.]

[The man makes a low sound, the flesh between his eyebrows pinching. Concern touches his words -]
"Does some title rest upon your young shoulders, little master?"

[Vayne knows something of titles, and the troubles that enjoy coming with them, but perhaps he is an only child, or, if he were so unlucky, to be one of many and chosen as the best of that lot. But this young man seems yet too kind for that.]

Uh- yeah. [It's still strange for poor Ceodore not to be identified almost immediately and strictly by who his parents are.] My father's the king of Baron.

[If one takes a good and studied look at Ursula, she does look every bit a foreign princess. Neither of them have forgotten what they were born into or the inherent responsibilities that come with it. But here, their titles mean nothing.]

She's the Crown Princess of Fabul. And well...

[And here's where Ceodore's tone takes on a heavy feel of bitterness, clearly quoting someone on the matter.]

'...two ruling monarchs of separate kingdoms cannot marry.'

[He'll never be able to forget his father's blunt and clarion clear take on their relationship. Even though all of them have put it behind them and it no longer matters, those words still haunt Ceodore on a regular basis.]

[Ah. Well that is a common tale amongst nobility, whether they claimed royal, divine lineage or not. Even House Solidor felt the sting of such an act and Vayne, as he is, can see where in some ways, this country or kingdom of Baron, could resist such a union. Though in the Solidor's experience, what with from Archadia's inception over five hundred years ago, the acquiring of more when you had none tended to be better than not.]

[There were just times when you could not be picky. To him, there had to be another story.]
"Does your union threaten the fragile stability of your people?"
[After all, the minor noble that Vayne plays is indeed concerned that such a thing would be seen as bad. The idea is mortifying - why would you then pursue it??]

A Small Happiness: The Fete

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