illicitembers

[illicitembers]

"I have no preference." she replies, a shrug in place of a smile. It is true. She has no preference. Everywhere is the same. Sotera, Asteria, Frigoria, all of them are more similar than she had previously thought. Lips draw to a smile, icy gaze warms at the sight of young lady.

"I am unsure whether or not petrification will be a success, but it sounds like an amusing idea." it would have been amusing to her sister. Maybe her sister cooked this up. Nothing would surprise her but this seemed as if it had her sister's chaotic fingers all over it.

A shrug and a smile, gaze softening. "Thank you, lady Yan. I do think pale blue suits me as well, but this costume had been very last minute of me. Seeing everyone's disguises I ought to have put more effort in mine." soft chuckle leaves her lips.

"I think Sotera is very agreeable, but I am a born Asterian so my heart will always be there." lies. She hopes Zhao Yan does not see through it.

BUSTED. Revealed by a familiar lady, Yanyan lifts her mask from her face, quite possibly ignoring - or breaking - the decorum of Masquerades. She didn't really know the rules of it. Was secrecy forced upon them by wearing masks, or are they allowed to freely converse with other once their identity is revealed?

she didn't know.

But, she did recognize the lady, so her lips naturally drew into a wide, friendly smile. "I don't dislike them, lady Maeve." Yanyan returned the courtesy of being called by first name basis. While the two of them weren't exactly best of friends, they were close.

as close as one can be in court.

"Hey, I think petrification could be hilarious, if it's done right. If it destroys the décor, then no, of course not. But, I don't know... it could be fun." Yaner chuckled.

"I like your costume, the colour suits you. I just picked the first pastel thing I found in my vicinity, though the Asterian court had been very gracious to me, by letting me choose." she figured everyone will be wearing vibrant or solemn colours, depending on the theme.

"What do you think of Sotera so far? I think it's cute, but I still prefer Asteria."

[illicitembers]

She was horrified to be here. There was no point in attending when the ties to courts remained loose and flexible. No loyalty in her heart for any court but Frigoria's and even that had been something to mull over in the recent years since her sister had taken the throne. In her modest opinion, the Ancient queen was not ready for the position. It corrupted her further.

Hair tinted with golden glitter gleams under the lights of the masquerade. Ice-blue eyes glint with affection at the lady of Tabea's words. She had not been called "apple" since their last meeting many months ago nor had she been hugged. it made her realize how much she misses her friend.

A nod. "They are very alike the court jesters we have back there." careful words for spying ears. She did not doubt her sister had sent spies to oversee this coronation. It may very well be she is one of the masked attendees or even a jester. She thinks that Amusement appears familiar in it's movements, but she brushes the thought aside. Her sister would never be caught dead wearing those costumes.

"I do not have a plan. At the moment I enjoy my time in Asteria. No one know what tomorrow with bring so I may return to Sotera someday soon. Who is to say." shrug lowers her shoulders and a sigh leaves her lips. She had been thinking about going back home as well, but Frigoria -- has it been a home to her, still?

Head shakes and the darkened thoughts of Frigoria disperse. A smile returns to her lips and Maeve loops her arm through Vivian's. "What chaos have you been up to lately? You must tell me everything."

WELL, well, well, look what the icebergs of Frigoria floated in. Vivian's lips immediately drew into a wider smile, forgetting her composure for a moment. She hastily wrapped her arms around the other's petite frame, and equally quickly moved away. It all lasted but a heartbeat, yet Vivian had already felt so much better.

it was so good to see a friendly face.

All these false smiles and well timed chuckles made her mind go poof. But, she had no choice but to attend and she was happy she had met with at least one Frigorian. And a princess, no less.

"Maeve, the apple of my eye, I am absolutely horrified to see you here." she playfully placed a gloved hand over her chest, smile widening once more, though she did throw a careful glance around them.

she knew of Maeve's current... elusiveness when it came to Frigorian court.

she can't say she blamed her.

"I'm having as good a time as one can have on a masquerade." she answered, motioning with her chin towards the jesters as she added ; "Remind you of home, do they?"

they had an eerie aura about them, that was for sure.

"I've long since left Asteria, though I'd only ever been there in passing." more accurately, the queen had instructed her to only breeze through it.

"I'm in Sotera now. It'll be, what, couple of months now. Six? Seven?" all good girl go to heaven, the old limerick popped into her head, but she shrugged it off with a light grin, "Soon will be a year, however you look. And what of you?" Vivian asks, flicking the other's shoulder with her fingers.

"I haven't seen you in a while, as well. What have you been up to?"

[illicitembers]

"I like being mocked. Just do it with a dash of intelligence so I have a worthy opponent. This is distasteful and very low effort." Iseul speaks, shrug lowers the shoulders. The fabric of her dress glimmers like liquid metal in depths of the forge. It vexes her, the shimmer and glitter that had been shoved in her hands before the masquerade. She would have liked a different costume. But one cannot pick and choose at things freely given.

"Yet we try. We talk of their jests as if it were a great riddle, when it could just as well be as transparent as it is, a jest made to entertain and abhor the audience." huff exists her lips and she fidgets, dark gaze searching for refreshments. She would love a drink to pass the time.

Uneasy. They are. Head leans to the side, eyes narrow in thought. Inquisitiveness. Agreement. Sentiment clearly written in her masked expression. "Pleasant, but dull. This provides at least the satisfaction of appearing to consider their words. It may be the only entertainment they provide." a chuckle, entertained by the paradoxical thought of boredom serving as it's own entertainment.

"She has very large shoes to fill and I am not speaking of the size of the old queen's feet." slight snort, amused by her own retort. "She will do well. Her mother remains at court council. I do not see how the young Angorian could fail with such advisors at her side." another shrug lowers her shoulders.

A kindred spirit, then. Yixin found his own disgruntlement with the jesters reflected back at him on this person's face. It didn't take a particularly close look to make out the military training behind her posture, the tension in her shoulders.

"It's my experience that the nobility don't like to be mocked, but somehow, that seems to change when masks are in play." Perhaps it was exciting, when you can disregard your reputation? "I suppose there's no use trying to understand why. But here we are, and here they are too." He smiled, just a hint of bitterness showing through.

It would be nice to have a drink in hand, just to focus his attention on it, but instead he adjusted his mask slightly. "I'm sure they were thoroughly vetted before being allowed within, though their full-face masks make me a little... uneasy. But there are more pleasant things to discuss, aren't there?" Even if she seemed to agree with him, it wasn't right to complain endlessly about the entertainment of a gracious host. Let alone one with their history. "The Coronation was an impressive affair. I'm sure the new Queen will do an excellent job."

[illicitembers]

Advantageous. It has been. A general cannot discard duty even when in entertainment for it could be a deadly oversight. One does not merely amuse oneself with leisure, not when kingdoms are in question and the ball is merely a distraction from the unavoidable destruction that bubbles and boils beneath the very surface of their veiled faces, gloved hands.

Asterian by birth. Pleased to have been right, Iseul offers the woman a nod. Something nags in the back of her mind, a name, an image, a remembrance. Her history lessons and court intrigue scream for attention, but her mind is a battlefield and it yields no room for things she finds irrelevant.

There is relevancy to the young lady in front of her and a name of a house emerges from the depths of forgetfulness. Shih. It could very well be their descendant. Someone the Han family had been acquainted with, if one should call their amicability as such.

Lips draw to a smile and head inclines to a bow. "The way you hold yourself betrays your Asterian origin. High of birth, even, but the lack of guards tell me not royal." A guess, but educated one.

She speaks of discord, followed by the thoughts and worries of the kingdom's union. The same question weights in her own mind, but she yields nothing of it. Uncertainty. That is what it is. The woman excuses herself, the general smiles a soft pull of lips to the side.

"Fret not. I know what you mean to say and if I am of liberty to comment, I would. But." she pauses, ponders for a moment whether or not to share her own thought. The mask helps.

"I am uncertain whether or not it is a good idea. I am inclined to agree with you. It could very well be the jesters are singing us a warning. It would also be harmless fun. Tasteless in it's timing, but harmless."

She does not approve of the arranged nuptials, but she does not comment. It is not her place to say and it is not the time to have such discussions. She comments on the masks, instead.

"You have interesting appearance. It stands out from the sea of monotonous colors and shapes."

With the woman's command, the soldiers scattered like fleeing mice. Their discipline was evident in their drawn shoulders and puffed-out chests; respect and discipline so freely given denoted the woman’s rank, hard-fought.

Wait.

‘Unquestionably Soteran and an esteemed, young soldier…’

If her assumption was correct – that this woman was indeed General Han – then her liege father would be beside himself with joy. He was quite thorough, incessant even, in priming her on Soteran customs and key personages, but she could ill afford relying on pure conjecture alone.

General or not, the woman seemed willing to entertain her query.

Jiao Bi allowed a faint smile to grace her lips at the pointed observation. She could hardly blame the woman for such reservation; no one thrived in Sotera by welcoming every stranger with open arms, or any Court for that matter.

“You’ve positioned yourself in the most advantageous spot of the venue,” Jiao Bi remarked. She shifted her weight to the ball of her right foot, letting her left hip rise to a contrapposto, a subtle gesture to distract herself from the ache gnawing at her feet.

Had this been any other day, she might have taken a bit of time before responding, ascertaining the woman's character through her tolerance. But this was an unfamiliar stage, and she was learning the counts and spacing to an entirely new choreography. At a disadvantage, adjustments had to be made along the way.

She straightened her posture, lowering herself into a bow, every motion deliberate and measured. The ambience of candlelight bathed her ivory robes in faint gold, like sunlight ghosting across koi scales. Never mind her feet.

When she rose, her gaze met the woman's, “Asterian by birth, as I suspect you have already deduced, though I am pleased my mask offers a modicum of mystery.” she introduced herself, a melodic coolness present with each syllable. She had drawn out a pause for the words ‘House Shih’ – not Jiao Bi the performer of Asteria’s Court, but Jiao Bi of the Shih name must take precedence.

She accepted the champagne with a gracious nod, raising the glass slightly in acknowledgment before taking a single sip out of courtesy. The faint sweetness clung to her tongue, but she agreed with her father to keep her thoughts sharp at Court. As far as liquor concerns, indulgence begot indecency, while refraining implied disrespect. Restraint, then, shall be her chosen poison.

“Ghosts indeed,” she murmured. “I confess I find the jesters’ performance more ominous than vexing — like a fine thread pulled too taut, waiting to snap. Perhaps… that is the intent. What better way to remind us of the precariousness of our positions than with dulcet discord?”

Her voice dropped a pitch lower, taking on a conspiratorial lilt. “Speaking of precariousness, what do you make of this union between Asteria and Sotera? It strikes me as a marriage born of strategy, not sentiment, and such arrangements often sow thorns rather than roses. My House, for one, has seen firsthand the consequences of alliances turned to ash.”

She allowed the briefest of pauses. It was long enough for the woman to consider the weight of the words but not so long as to betray hesitation. The softening of her gaze went unnoticed even to herself, though her free hand betrayed her thoughts – a subtle flaring of her fingers that tapped at the base of her hip bone. It was Jiao Bi's quiet way of assessing how much the woman might reveal.

“Of course, I mean no offense. My question stems only from a desire to prepare – not just myself, but my family – for the tides that may follow.”

As if the waves haven’t long since swept her family out to sea.

Then what would Sotera's tides bring?

[illicitembers]

Remember to smile. Mother's voice flutters to her ear, though the woman's presence is long unfelt. Taken by fate and fatality. Survived by four children. Survived by the entirety of distastefully packed world.

Two kingdoms spin on their axis. The jesters turn their attention to attendees, painted smiles false and honest. True and untrue. She dislikes the crowd. Dislikes the masked ball that hides friends from foes and turns foes to friends. Alliances and discord. Together they dance on the already packed ballroom dance floor.

Han Iseul dislikes dancing. Many a men come asking, but she declines everyone with a cold stare of her fiery tempered dark eyes. Unbound hair flows to the back, coal dark waterfall of iron curled hair. Though it only ever managed to curl the tips of her long tresses.

Disinterested in the song. Iseul steps away from the crowd and finds an isolated spot with a decent vantage point. Cold blades of steel press into the back as she leans against the stone wall. Weapon concealed in case of merriment becoming too merry. Too unruly.

A figure approaches. Lips force a smile, an upwards curl to appease the decorum and her mother's nagging voice lodged in the back of her consciousness.

"They are unruly. Do they threaten us or amuse us? I do not think they are aware of the undertone of their words, but jesters are often blunt and disinterested in how their crowds would interpret their words." she does not interpret them favourably.

"What say you of their jest?"

[illicitembers]

The jesters come into play. Head tilts to the side, attentive, pale gaze fixes upon the two courtiers. Their attires are strange, masks stranger, words the strangest. Unrest coils it's serpentine tail around her skeleton, gripping tight at the mention of tales. Repetition sinks a restless stone deep in the pool of her exterior tranquillity.

She fights the urge to flee.

There are others she sees in attendance. A sister. A brother. Courtiers that belong to none of the extant kingdoms. The cold and dark aura around the Frigorian citizens alerts her to a fouler thing at play. Why is her sister here, she asks herself with a frown, hidden beneath the pale blue mask. She sees her brother, ear close to their sister's ear, keeping council. Maeve hopes it is a council to still her rather than inspire more chaos in her restless blood.

Her brother is rational. She hopes her time away from him did not change that. Hope is a wanton thing always requiring more. She turns away, near-white tresses of hair hidden beneath the golden powder she had uses to dust her hair.

She shimmers so wonderfully in the countless candlelight.

A figure approaches. Lips stretch to an inviting smile, glass of wine taken from her left to her right hand. A nervous fidget.

"An entertaining bunch are they not?" she asks, tone dulcet and soft.

"Do you suspect they wish to turn us to stone? Why would they speak of petrification if it is not their intent?" the tone holds amusement, but a tremor of restlessness weaves through it.

This looks like one of her sister's practical joke. She would not put it past the Valerian dynasty's ruling queen to attempt kingdoms wide coup by petrifying everyone. Who in the court of Frigoria had earthen powers? She does not recall.

Her sister's last letter could very well have been right. She might have spent too much time away from home.

[illicitembers]

Frigorian court often held masked balls. It was a way of celebrating their isolation from the rest of the world by pretending their masks are part of it. What the Cruel king had done affected the Frigorians to a larger scale than her sister wants to admit or believe.

The commonfolk hated it. She has spoken to enough of the commoners to know they did not hold grudges against the two kingdoms nor they condoned the half millennia of isolation and festered hatred. They had begun to despise the Valerian line, but their distaste and restlessness was quelled by the appearance of the princess of ice.

She did not enjoy the title. The frost that coats her tongue when she says it. The frost and the cold in her bloodstream, pouring outside to manifest on her near-white hair and the icy paleness of her eyes and the complexion. The commonfolk of Frigoria likes their cold blooded princess sometimes a lot more than they like their queen, her sister. Her brother had been a golden middle not only as the middle child and male, but in character as well.

She ran when she could. At first opportunity. At last light. Between the darkness of the night and lightness of dawn's awakening, Maeve fled from Sotera to Asteria, evading her sister's spies and guards that the Ancient queen had sent in order to protect supervise her.

She finds herself in Sotera again.

Mask veils her in secrecy and it gives her liberty to converse with a friend known person. A young lady she had met in Asteria and befriended with ease. The bubbly nature displayed by Zhao Yan makes Maeve smile, lips pulled in corners, curling upwards.

"I think you are overthinking this." she laughs.

"I think they wish to entertain us. Petrification does not seem like it would be a fun way to conclude the evening, though some may beg to differ." Maeve speaks, head tilts to the side. Icy gaze fixes upon the young lady of Asteria.

"I find them enjoyable. They are a nice change from the usual way these balls go. Are they to your liking as well, lady Yan?" she speaks, revealing the identity of her masked speaker.

availability: open to all !

DRESSED in a light purple, lavender thread stitched gown and with a pretty soft pink, feathery mask on her face, Zhao Yan has found herself rather enjoying the festivities around her. The coronation itself seemed to have been a success, though even her untrained senses could pick up on some tension here and there, before Soleil Angorian swore her oath and everyone was led away to change for the dinner and the masquerade.

It was all so very luxurious and it had been the second coronation she had attended, the most some people had been to in their lifetime. Granted, unless they met untimely fates or their rulers were usurped, but that hadn't happened in centuries, not since the last war with Sotera. How long has it been since that? How long had she been part of Asterian's court? Had it been weeks or months?

it had all turned into a single, event ridden ribbon for her to truly make sense of it.

Yanyan had enjoyed the festivity, standing in the corner, watching and sipping on the drink in her hand, a bubbly, golden liquid in a tall, crystal glass. The champagne they served was exquisite, but one could expect as much for a gathering of this scope and merriment.

When a masked figure passed her by, she reached out and lightly tapped their shoulder, drawing the figure's attention to herself.

"Do you think the two bards are speaking of actual stones or are they just trying to make limericks... rhyme? Unless their act is some kind of earth magic that would make the garden statues move, but wouldn't that cause damage to them, when they crumble? I doubt Sotera's gardener would look favourably to that." she giggled.

[illicitembers]

That something was amiss, was evident in the way the Wise had seemed to tense when the two court jesters began their jest. How much of it was entertainment was uncertain, but the tension in some of the Soterans' postures convinced her of something other at play, a card yet undealt, a hand yet unrevealed.

Joy and Amusement, those were their names, yet they only have seemed to have enjoyed themselves, not the guests of old queen Eliona's court. She was bored by the repetitive tones of the jesters lutes, their songs dull, their voices high. Had she not have known better, she would have reckoned it was a pitch only dolphins could hear.

She sighs, tension entering her body instead leaving it, the song filling her skull with dread and anticipation. She did not know why she felt like that all of a sudden, but she suspected it was the vexing tonality in their voices, so saccharine and so blunt, a sword that had been rusted by all of the blood it had spilled.

A woman approaches and Han Iseul fixes her posture, hands folding in front of her. A soldier standing at ease. A general, overseeing the court by isolating in the most advantageously positioned place in the room. The lower Soteran dignitary speaks to Iseul, foregoing any proper decorum and it vexes the general. She blinks, head tilts to the side and lips arch in distaste. Another flocks to her side, then another, then one more. Bored by their yaps and misplaced amazement, head turns towards an approaching figure.

A lithe form, glades over as if on a cloud. Interest piqued, the general waves her hand to the crowd. "Scatter, scavengers. If you want to mingle, book an appointment."

They obey.

Dark gaze fixes upon the new arrival, the woman's words pulling the corners of ruby painted lips to a crooked smile. "Under all these masks are we not ghosts?" Iseul asks.

A tray of refreshments appears, handed over by a harlequin dressed servant. She nods in recognition and dismisses him once more, two long stemmed glasses of celebratory champagne in hands.

One is offered the the stranger, the other drawn to her lips.

"The words are strange and so are they. I have no knowledge of who they are. Word has it the chamberlain assigned them. Some say it was old queen Eliona's own practical joke. She may wish to tell us we are all false here. I reckon she merely wishes to entertain us, though I find them less entertaining and more vexing."

Head cocks to the side, watchful gaze rakes over the young lady. "You are no Soteran, are you? However, with the masks one cannot differ between friends and foes." she doubts the lady is a foe. Her instincts would have alerted her. Yet one is never certain when people are in question.

𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝟶𝟶𝟷 : The Masquerade

𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁

Her first court experience taught her the importance of arrangement. Those positioned at the sides were a league of spectators with great convictions; esteem was awarded for their show of unity – a collective meant to promote anonymity. Whoever took center stage became fair game for the clothed wolves. As for the corners? No courtier risked a corner, no body was made to fit a 90° angle, and nobody diverged from the herd without the act being premeditated.

Jiao Bi held no fondness for corners anyway, only uncertainty awaited there.

She strayed from the dance floor, pursuing respite along the edges, hopeful that the crowd would swallow her whole. She was keeping her poise simple and spine pulled to a taut for interlocutors; on the other hand, she suspected she had overplayed on propriety. Yet, she took comfort in the fact that she was a nonperson, having danced only with her father, his associates, a few Soteran nobles from lesser houses, and a couple of foreign dignitaries.

Unfortunately for her, the tightness of her slippers had begun to envelop her feet – she couldn’t help the twitch forming at the corner of her left eye and mouth. She scanned her surroundings for unoccupied seats but found none. Across the ballroom, furniture and décor graciously displayed themselves from a withdrawing chamber. As she steadied her foot to tap the front of her robes, the crowd swept to her sides.

Gone was her only path to proper respite, as adults and children alike flooded the floor for one more Soteran spectacle.

‘As if the coronation was not enough to sate their appetite.’ Her voice was barely audible as she sniffed, her breath catching at the sight of her daxiushan's skirt and lower sleeves, now stained. Regret engulfed Jiao Bi. She hugged the ivory gauze closer to her frame. Her daxiushan, a sponsorship from her aunt – who found prosperity through commerce after relinquishing her nobility – was still money wisely saved. That she had been careless with it absolutely gnawed at her.

The murmurs from the crowd brought her back to reality, though her mind was dulled by exhaustion. Just when she believed she couldn’t share the spectators’ enthusiasm, there were strum strings playing the most pleasant melodies accompanied by the silvery chortle from a wind instrument.

The creases on her face softened, if only a little.

‘Soteran musicians? Dancers? Performers?’ She mused.

Curiosity finally piqued, Jiao Bi spearheaded her way through walls of besotted nobles, enduring the constriction in her lungs and the prick of each step until she glimpsed the performance through a gap between two ladies’ necks. She locked in her knees, leaning slightly as her periphery caught a blur of festooned fools.

For every prance and romp and jolly, Jiao Bi hoped for her ennui allayed, but the audience's laughter and the fools’ festive tone proved as vain as the act they performed.

"...a tale as old as time has forgotten how to come alive."

For a moment, her composure faltered. Was this a ballad then? A threnody for both Kingdoms and their forgotten Houses? For once-proud legacies undone, like tapestries unpreserved? A ballad set to lure her into thoughts about House Shih’s precarious position? How their relevance teetered on the edge, clinging to glories of yore?

Joy’s phrasing seemed to proclaim her unspoken fears: Will the Shih name become nothing but a forgotten tale?

“What's in a name, if it falls like rain?” Her words spoken, soft in its bitterness, might have been mistaken by a bystander as a quip at the performers. But to her, it was a reminder – Jiao Bi needed to remind herself.

By the time the fools concluded their riddles, she was steady. The crowd had parted, almost as though Joy and Amusement themselves held dominion over the throng - as center stages who controlled who stayed and left.

‘Ominous fellows,’ she thought with a smirk barely meeting her eyes. Should she dare to aim for the position of court jester? At least her bleak humor might find its audience, though it'd plague her liege father with constant apoplexies. Speaking of her father – was he just as affected by the fools as she was?

Drawn by the nagging suspicion that something was amiss, Jiao Bi decided to gauge interpretations of the song. She lingered near a small group of attendees.

“Their words,” she trailed, letting her words soak into the space, “carry a strange cadence, do they not? Almost as though they sing to ghosts rather than their spectators.”

Her tone was acerbic yet measured, a languid amusement tugging at the corners of her lips, but her eyes only showed the faintest of creasing.

[illicitembers]

It was by pure luck and chance that Maeve had found herself attending queen Soleil's coronation. She was not even properly invited, just strung along to enjoy the merriment of a masquerade.

It was easier to hide from other guests beneath a mask. She would not be surprised to see many of her Frigorian kinsmen attending the ball as she knew her sister send many a spies to both of the kingdoms. Once, she had been her spy as well, though now she had been self employed. Listening to no one's instruction but her own. She did not really want to spy on anyone and then report back to her family. Where was the point in that? Destruction? If her sister wants to sow chaos and discord, maybe she shouldn't do it such extent, or there won't be anything left for her to spy on.

There was a mask she had recognized. It wasn't unwelcome to see the lady of Tabea among the guests, but she knew her presence here must have been arranged by the Ancient queen.

"Good evening, Vivian. I trust you are having a good time?" Maeve accepted the offer of drink and offered a smile to her old friend in return.

"It has been some time since we've met, rascal. I wonder how you have been doing. Are you still in Asteria or has the wind blown you elsewhere?"

availability: open to all !

WHAT in the fresh Frigorian hell was this? The Joy and Amusement, or whatever their names were, seemed as mad as bats in a belfry. What seas they spoke of, what petrified stones? She could grasp them by the head or the tail, but there was something about them that unnerved her.

she wasn't fond of lutes.

The stringed instrument always had such an eerie quality about it that Vivian could never quite stomach hearing it for long. But, alas she was now in the Spare Princess' employment and she didn't have many options at her disposal, not at the very moment that is.

The only thing she could do was drink and smile and bat her pretty eyelashes at everyone who had crossed her path and offered her a dance. 'Of course, milord. Why not, milord.' She was one more milord-ing away from just dissolving into the ground and bolting for the gardens.

Perhaps when the annoying lute stops, she'll use the opportunity of a respite to get away from the cacophony of excited courtiers.

Stifling a sigh, Vivian adjusted the intricate, black-and-silver mask she had concealing the most of her face and plucked two goblets of wine from the servant who had crossed her path, carrying a gilded tray of silver goblets.

how bloody pompous.

"This ball doesn't seem to be stopping in the foreseeable future and you seem absolutely parched. Care to join me for a drink?" she offered.

[illicitembers]

The general of Sotera had attempted to enjoy herself. Her queen's coronation passed with much fanfare and little objections. Those who had tried to object were silenced by her dark, unyielding stare.

The mask was an annoyance. She would have opted for any kind of a disguise, but Eliona had wanted her to show the strength of Sotera, so now she was stuck with a hardened lacy mask resembling the armour of some long forgotten knight. The rest of her dress was there to match, all in metallic hues with some fiery red threads woven around her bodice and skirts like wayward embers.

She should not have shown displeasure over the masquerade, but her stone cold facade had recently yielded to only one emotion. Vague disinterest of the world around her. What had once been a sweet and competitive girl had turned into a dulcet ember, barely cackling in the forgotten fireplace. It was good, though. Better than hot headed rage or flaming annoyance.

She couldn't understand Eliona's push for the unity nor she had looked to it favourably. The two kingdoms were similar in some ways, but their past had been so bloody, so... unusual that she had failed to see the reason behind it.

And now these annoying jesters with their feverish, impish smiles. At least one other looked like he was having some kind of a foul time. Han Iseul found herself walking over to the man, but the air around him was familiar, regal. She had seen a similar bearings in her new queen and her royal sister. It would be an educated guess to address him as your majesty, but Iseul had learned better than to merely guess.

"Why have a meaning when their costumes are meaningless enough. Joy does not look jovial and the only amusement I see on Amusement is the chipped paint on it's smile. But, I suppose they are entertainment enough. Masked balls can't seem to get enough of rude jesters and their thinly veiled insults."

Or threats, but she did not voice that particular irk. She could have only been paranoid to hear the threatening tone. It really could all just be harmless, albeit tasteless, fun.

event 001: the masquerade open starter

Lin Yixin figured, at the end of the day, it was best to be seen being sociable at an event like this. Sociable with Soteran nobles, to show that he was not prejudicial or begrudging; sociable with Asterian nobles, to show the good relationship he had with his people. Even sociable with the servants at the royal palace, to come across polite and respectful.

He had been an outgoing boy once and he tried his best to channel that into his adult self. Laughing freely, drinking happily, there was a sparkle in his eye that only the most practiced observer would know was fake. He danced politely with everyone with whom it was proper, his dance called mostly filled paused for refreshments between songs, taking one quiet moment to glower and brood at his terrible suffering in being forced to be social. It seemed the world around him was ignoring him for the moment, so he thought it was safe to let his face fall, to be bitter and resentful just for a moment. He brought his facade back quickly, only to turn and realise that the lapse had been observed.

"A lovely evening, isn't it?" he tried. Perhaps it would go unremarked upon. "I've been enjoying the... Jesters. They're remarkable entertainment. I wonder what their songs mean?"

[illicitembers]

THEY CALL YOU COLD, BUT YOU ARE MADE --

OF FROST.

tw death.

dark archives. frigoria. access forbidden. parchments 001. to 005.

Maeve Valerian, second daughter and third child of the Cruel king and his queen. Third in line of VALERIAN DYNASTY, trained and fit to rule should her elder siblings fail. Born on a cold day, of the cold year,, under the dark moon. Star sign Capricorn, ruled by Pluto in the hour of birth. From cradle exhibited a frosty breath and froze three of her wet nurses to their chairs. Power rapidly grows. By the age of five frozen over three ponds. Unable to unfreeze. Displays detached personality. Disinterested in the throne of Frigoria.

...

Aged seven, does not leave siblings' sides, following them around like a puppy. Parents displeased over the sudden warmth in the character. Isolated in a tower with her power tutor until her emotions once again freeze over. Unsuccessful. Emotions no longer in check.

...

The king is dead. Ancient queen takes reign. Ice princess thrilled, but not for long. Sister displays uncontainable amount of chaos. The princess of ice is scared and concerned, but instructed to keep quiet and swear allegiance to Ancient queen.

...

Dispatched to Sotera for spying on the old queen Angorian. Remained there for seven weeks before escaping the watchful gaze of ------ Last known sighting in Asteria. Observe from distance. Three soldiers frozen in spot. Do not approach.

long live the princess of ice!

[illicitembers]

I AM FIRE. I AM ---

THE GENERAL.

tw death.

soteran archives, yellowed parchment, sheet 001.

Han Iseul, first daughter of Han Yoo and Park Jin-Seo, seventh in the line of HAN DYNASTY STABLES, the trainers and breeders of Sotera's finest, imperial horses. Father Han Yoo, general manager of the stables, supervisory trainer and horse expert, owns a veterinary clinic specialized in horses. Mother, Park Jin-Seo, lady of old Soteran nobility, thirteenth in line of the name. Born on the full moon late in March, star sign Aries the ruler of Mars and Fire, a giver of power and character. Parents disappointed over the loss of ancestral earth magic and animal voice. Discarded in lieu of her younger brother, Han -name illegible due to burn marks- ..... ....

soteran archives, yellowed parchment, destroyed in seven places, sheets 002. and 003.

At the age of fifteen, Iseul started to train under queen Eliona of the Angorian line. Quickly rising in ranks due to natural stamina, fiery temperament and the volatile bursts of energy and emotion. Fire training yielded less success as she was prone to sudden bursts of emotion. Any and all progress stopped when news of youngest brother Han Chan-Woo's fatal accident reached her ears. Burned seven quarters of imperial training grounds to ash.

soteran archives, yellowed parchment, sheet 004.

Appointed general of Soteran armies at the age of twenty four. Most ties with family cut due to fatal incident with youngest brother. Left behind two living younger brothers and one living younger sister.

soteran archives, yellowed parchment, sheet 005.

Parents died in a freak accident. Emotional outburst burnt the village of Emros to the ground. Five casualties. All of them scouts from ----

soteran archives, royal decree.

By the grace of Sotera's rule, Han Iseul was to take full and total command of Soteran armies, to use and dispatch as seen fit.

long live the general of sotera!

[illicitembers]

The Witcher: Ciri Icons

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[illicitembers]

Ko Mun-yeong - It's Okay to Not Be Okay

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