(LOG) In which Tyltin screams like a little girl

Mereavus mused some on that particular topic - it seemed they were all rumoured to be having some sort of unnatural relationship with Ilgnuit. "As far as I'm aware he has yet to find out," she answered. "Which may well be one giant headache, but we're prepared for it. I haven't spoken to him since the ball - though Samuel tells me he has. Some sort of brief, passive conversation, he said." She assumed his return to Synaria was entirely in earnest, rather than some sort of subterfuge - she could only hope she was right. An issue with him over Samuel wasn't going to be a pretty affair - less pretty than the argument in which she'd deemed him a melodramatic rugrat, in fact. But the ball had smoothed that over.

Danele Valenti nodded softly. ilgnuit would not be a problem, she hoped. However, considering his behavior of late, she was not so sure. "I would allow him to find out when the official announcement is made. That is just my advice. That way, he can cause no scene, if he is so inclined. Afterwards, if he brings you any trouble, do not hesitate to come to me." She adored Ilgnuit, but knew the drama he could bring. Mereavus did not deserve such, considering this was to be her time.

Garnett rolled her shoulders as she wandered down the stairs, aches dissapating somewhat. A soft hum trickled from her lips, the girl finding more and more that she enjoyed the quiet haven that was the women's quarters. Clad in the delicate lilac gown the Queen had given her for her betrothal, she felt more herself. A book was tucked under arm as she slipped into the room, sword of course at her hip. As she pushed open the door, she peered inside, catching the voices before she saw the inhabitants. A smile spread over her face at the sight of them. "Mother, Lady Mereavus." She murmured with a nod, sinking into the couch next to the Queen with a small wince. "I hope I'm not disturbing you ladies."

Mereavus nodded lightly in agreement with Danele on that particular subject - the less drama, the better. She'd already steeled herself for it, and given how counter-protective she was of things she cared about (really, previous to this, only the Queen herself, but a good example nonetheless), she'd be perfectly happy to hand out whatever iron was necessary to ensure things went smoothly. Her hand lowered briefly to Danele's wrist at that last part of her utterance. "Always my first stop for everything, you know that," she murmured quietly, before glancing up and returning her hand to check the positioning of one earring at Garnett's entry. "Your Highness," she greeted - ever the same greeting, it got no less formal or any more expressive. "Of course not." And then, then! That same old thought. "Would either of you like some tea?"

Danele Valenti shook her head and wrapped a gentle arm around Garnett. "Of course not, Darling. Mereavus and I were just talking idly." She had given her word to say nothing, and Mereavus knew she would hold to that. "I am surprised to see you up and about. I assumed you would be quite sore today." News of her training with Uhtred had spread about the palace like wildfire. Of course, such a thing had made the Queen grin. Garnett was not one to sit back very long, and she was proving it. When her wrist was gently clasped, she shifted her hand to give Mere's own an affectionate squeeze. "That would be lovely. Ginger for me, of course. I am afraid my belly has yet to settle this afternoon." She had managed to nibble on some dry toast earlier, so she had not gone completely without.

Garnett sunk into the Queen appreciatively with a pleasant smile toward the advisor. "Yes, please, that would be lovely." She murmured, letting her head rest against Danele's shoulder. Laughter trickled from her as she shrugged. "I spent nearly the whole of yesterday soaking in the bath, but lying about just makes me more sore. You should see my bruises though..." Her head shook in amusement as she stretched her arms out in front of her, flexing her wrists. "At least I cannot complain that my husband is not taking teaching me seriously, right?" Impulsively, she planted a kiss on Dan's cheek as her gaze dropped to the small swell of the woman's belly, and she trembled for an instant, her eyes locked on it. "How have you been feeling, Mother?" She had so hoped to control the quaver in her voice, and her teeth captured her bottom lip, small spots of red rising in her cheeks. It was all too easy for her too forget the Queen's pregnancy when she wasn't around.

Mereavus rose to go and prepare said tea, appreciating the silence regardless of the fact that Garnett already knew - her presence with Uhtred had been one neither she or the Huntsman had minded. Trust extended so far, after all, even if she was normally wary. She headed over for the kettle, filling it with water and hanging it on the hook in the fireplace, before returning to the cups to strain leaves. She glanced up at the mention of bruises, nodding along with it. "She's right," she agreed. "I bathed with her Highness yesterday, and they are quite impressive bruises." She then went along with what she was supposed to be doing quietly, having little else to input as designated beverage-maker. Not a job she particularly minded, really.

Danele Valenti tightened her arm around Garnett's shoulders upon hearing that trembling tone. She knew her pregnancy was hard on the yound Princess, considering she had just lost her own babe. "I am well, my sweet," she said softly, then pressed a tender kiss to Garnett's temple. "Have no worry, nor care." Smoothly, she shifted the subject. "You should have Uhtred massage your sore muscles with some scented oil. I am sure he would not object." She grinned and winked, then returned attention to Mereavus. "Bruises heal, thankfully. I remember the period, years ago, when I attempted to learn from a fencing master. He was quite adamant in his lessons, often rapping my fingers and shoulders if I performed a wrong movement. Wyld- I mean the King saw the resulting marks, and promptly had the man beaten." It was one time Danele had not objected, for the Master had taken great joy in being able to abuse royalty, as it was later discovered.

Garnett's momentary ache over the Queen's unborn child fell away with a small chuckle at Mere's evaluation of her bruises. "Why thank you, m'lady. It is kind of you to say." Beyond the Queen's words, she was content to let the subject drop, her eyes wandering for a moment to the locked cabinent where she'd stowed the gifts from her family. "I'm sure he wouldn't either, Mother." She murmured, the nervous colour in her cheeks shifting to a heated flush at that thought. Dipping her head did nothing to hide it, and she was grateful the Queen went on though she couldn't quite get the thought of Uhtred's strong hands kneading over her oiled flesh out of her mind. Swallowing softly, she tried to drag her thoughts back to the conversation. "I am surprised both at the King's and Uhtred's willingness for women to learn such things, Mother. My own family.." Her eyes rolled as she feigned a swoon. "A lady does not do such things!"

Tyltin Valenti IV pulled himself out of the ether with a heavy effort. He had been sitting on something that was not there, a pinnacle throne of dead, but now he stood to his feet, using the naked claymore clasped in his hands as a cane. For a time, he simply stared into the air above the women's heads, but soon that dreaded gaze filled all of them in turn. The images forced into their minds by those eyes were as graphic as ever: children reaching for their own severed arms and legs, men with gaping holes in their pelvis that seeped blood and urine, horses whose necks were broken with ropes. The gaze finally settled on the woman who had summoned him up, forcing a demand in her with his eyes that was not heard, but fed through the gaze; complicated by the fact that he could only communicate with those whom he made eye contact with. WHY DO YOU SEEK ME.

Mereavus had been laughing at Garnett's mockery of her family, turning from the tea and beginning to say, "Fortunately, I was taught to fence by a woman, so-" and then, an abrupt stop. Both hands went backwards onto the table, before one rose to her forehead in an instant reaction of horror. She'd seen some unpleasant things, but... Not that kind of quality. She moved her hand to her chest shortly after, suppressing a rapidly growing feeling of nausea, and took several deep breaths in an attempt to steady herself. Her instant thought pattern didn't even question what might possibly be the cause, and despite the urge to feint dead away, she carried herself very swiftly across the floor to the divan at Danele's side - albeit, with a decided weakness in her legs that required all the self control she had to keep solid.

Danele Valenti laughed, the sound quite merry and filling the room. "Well, the King was not so willing. I had to beg and cajole for months before he finally relented. Needless to say, after the man had been beaten and cast out, he threatened to beat me, should I ever do such a thing again. As for Uhtred, he loves you and desires you to feel safe. This is one way of ensuring that." The fencing lessons explained how she was able to weild the fire poker so adeptly. Old lessons died hard, it seemed. "You were luc-" she began to say to Mereavus, but was abruptly silenced by the images that flooded her mind. She cried out and clutched her head, feeling a similar nausea begin to roll within. Then, that voice boomed inside of her head. Eyes flew up and settled on the ghostly figure standing only a few feet away. So, he had decided to answer her request. Gritting her teeth against the pain searing through her skull, she dropped her hands and pulled back the laprobe. Danele untangled herself from the frightened women, and rose to her feet. Knowing Tyltin would not wish to mince words, she fell into a perfect curtsy, keeping her gaze locked with his otherwordly one. "Your bloodline is under attack," she spoke softly.

Garnett nodded her ready agreement to the Queen's words, her soft laugh echoing with the other women's, but a quiver in the air made the princess blink, pale eyes locked wide and frozen on the figure that appeared. She could not feel him, not that terrible cold that the other spectres filled her with. As though it could somehow protect her or at least frighten him as it did the others, her hand crept to the sword at her waist, the girl scarcely touching it before his visions flooded her. With sickening force they battered her, similar to what she'd seen beyond the veil but more often than not those that had given her the images were from the targets of such treatments. The visions twinned together in her, Garnett unable to breathe until his gaze passed over her. Tears crept down her cheeks as she shook violently, gasping for breath, her eyes locking with all force and will on the bowed Queen. That trembling hand found its way to the pommel of her sword, but her fingers felt dead and numb, unable to grasp and she slumped against the couch. Somewhere, beneath the fear, beneath the fierce rolling of her stomach, she heard the words the woman spoke though she knew not what to make of them.

Tyltin Valenti IV watched the queen move with accusatory expression permanently fixed to his face, receiving the curtsy as barely acceptable as possible: a mere slight nod of his head. The woman was nothing to him. They were all nothing to him. Eyes fluttered to the armed woman, glowering at the touch of the sword. Did she want to challenge him? He barraged her with such imagery that would have even made him cringe in life... before the sickness. It was only the queen's words that kept him from trying to drive the girl insane. He scoffed without sound and turned his eyes back to Danele, suffusing her with a particularly poignant image of a woman having her breasts viciously removed. MY BLOODLINE. Pretenders to the throne. Frauds, even. SPEAK SENSE.

Mereavus gravitated towards the divan Danele had vacated, pulling herself over to Garnett and drawing the Princess to her - clearly, Danele had enough hold on her senses for now, and the Advisor seemed the least plagued of the three of them. Though certainly, no less frightened. One arm settled around the Princess' back, the other taking her hand to draw it away from that sword. She had enough experience with her own unnatural presences to know that things only got worse when challenged - Samuel could attest to that. And things would feel ten times safer if said witness was present, but he wasn't. So all she could really do, was watch with a sort of morbid fascination - she didn't want to see any of it, it churned her stomach and had her heartbeat all awry, but not seeing seemed almost worse somehow.

Danele Valenti resisted the urge to reach for her own breasts as the image seized her mind for several seconds. God, she could feel the pain, smell the blood, knew the fear that rolled through that unfortunate victim. She clutched a hand to her head, again, and rose from the curtsy. It ook everything in her not to stumble backwards. She knew not that Garnett presented a threat, so was unaware of the images her daughter in law was being assaulted with. "Your descendants," she reiterated through trembling lips. "An unknown force has arisen against the Valenti family, and ultimately, Nharati." Waves of hatred, resentment, and insanity washed over her, radiated from Tyltin so strongly. "Already o-one unborn has been l-lost." Hell, she was stuttering now, but she was determined to push forward. "Dreams of death, blood, and despair are haunting me on a regular basis. My home, my family is in peril, and I cannot allow that." Mereavus would know of her dreams and visions, but it would be news to Garnett, of course. "I...I beg for answers, help, whatever your Majesty deems worthy. Please." She was pleading? Most definitely.

Garnett shrieked as his images tore at her mind, the girl jerking in her seat as she ripped her eyes from him. They lingered with her yet, blood and violence like nothing she'd ever seen, screams of others' agony echoing in her ears, their terror her own for that moment.. and yet she'd not forgotten the snake's instructions, and she hissed, fury in her strangled voice. "No." Even as his images fled from her, she clung to images of life, her training session with Uhtred the first one to come to mind, his voice louder than life in her ears: You will be raped and beaten and your throat will be slit, and you will piss yourself when you die. Don't reach for it. Take it. And she lost herself in the vision of the lesson, rolling over his moves and her own, trying to feel the weight of the sword even as the advisor held her hands. No sword now..not now..Garnett's pale hands gripped Mere's so hard it seemed her fingers would break, and she stared at the wall away from the Ghost King, refusing to look at him...scarcely hearing the Queen's words, hearing little beyond the clash of the practice swords in her mind.

Tyltin Valenti IV was plainly outraged. NOT MY DESCENDENTS. THEY ARE DESCENDED OF A SUPERSTITIOUS FOOL WHO WOULD CRY AFTER HE RODE HIS WOMAN AND FONDLED LITTLE BOYS IN THE GARDEN. All utterly true, of course. So much for the glory of the Valenti line. Still, Nharati was important to the Ghost King. Naked reluctance seeped into the pores of the room despite the fact that his expression never once changed, and then relented. YOU HAVE TOLD ME NOTHING THAT I CAN ANSWER. Obviously, the dead man would need something more in the way of details. Impatience crept into the atmosphere as he used the interim to show Danele how a spear was then thrust into the womb of the woman so that she could be lifted into the air on it.

Mereavus's hand endured that clenching without complaint - at least it wasn't a sword hilt. Better they seem simply as terrified and womanish than any real imposition, regardless of personal stakes. She kept her arm around her, as if it might do any good for anything, and simply remained as attentive as was possible. She leaned to touch her cheek to Garnett's temple, whispering very quiet reassurances without looking away. She knew what she needed to know, and reasoned that something good was effectively happening, simply in a horrific way - some things had to be done like such. So, she'd let Garnett cling however she wanted, if it helped in some small, minute, impossible to see way. Or so she told herself.

Danele Valenti balled pale, cold hands into fists at her sides. Despite the terrible images he kept forcing into her mind, her eyes stayed locked with his. "STOP IT!" she nearly screamed. "Whether you wish to acknowledge it, or not, they are your descendants!" Righteous anger began to take hold within. "I want to know who is attacking my family, who threatens my husband and his heirs, and what I can do to stop it." Out of false courage, or stupidity, she took a step closer toward the spirit King. "Would you allow your kingdom to be destroyed as it almost was during your reign? You were plotted against, and used; driven to an insanity that stole every moral and shred of common sense. Because of the wicked acts you were made to commit, you were cursed to wander the nether world. Your Majesty, this is the chance to redeem yourself." She doubted she would appeal to any sense of decency with Tyltin, so she had decided to delve a but further. Still, deep within, she screamed in fear, knowing all of this could blow up in her face.

Tyltin Valenti IV was not the sort of person to be talked to in such a way. Particularly since he'd already basically agreed to assist her. The problem was simply that she wasn't telling him anything useful. He seemed to grow as he towered over her, his eyes wide now and the images forced to the surface swimming by quickly, as though she were being thrown into their midst. She had offended him. WHEN YOU DIE I WILL PLUCK YOU TO PIECES AND SCATTER YOU THROUGHOUT THE COSMOS. YOU ARE MINE. I WILL TEAR YOUR HUSBAND APART AND FORCE HIM TO SUFFER IN DEATH WHAT HE SHOULD HAVE IN LIFE. I WILL EAT YOUR CHILDREN. TELL ME WHAT I NEED TO KNOW AND PERHAPS I WILL SPARE THE LAST.

Garnett's eyes stared sightlessly at the wall, her focus far beyond it, nerves seared by the images now gone. The low murmur from Mereavus brought her closer to the moment at hand, and with silent tears still streaking her cheeks, she let herself rest against the advisor. Each breath shook her as she kept her eyes unblinkingly away from the Ghost King, though now her ears were on her Queen, listening with intensity. Pressing her lips together, she forced her breathing to quiet, supressing the urge to cringe when she heard what she was saying. How she wished she could hear the other side of that conversation, and despite her resolve to look away, her eyes found themselves back on Danele as she pried her fingers away from Mereavus..looking as though she might spring from the couch despite the fact that her legs would not support her.

Danele Valenti may have offended, but it was unintentional. More horrible images assailed her mind until she was clutching her head once more and sinking to her knees. Her skirts puddled around her, and had she not been in agony, she would presented a rather fetching picture. Eyes slammed shut while she took deep breaths, trying to fight through the visions of blood, death, and threats. Surprisingly, the threats did not terrify her, though. If anything, they filled her with even more ire. How dare he threaten her family? Her husband? Her children? Unaware of the thin trickle of blood flowing from one nostril, head shot back up. "Magic flows through the halls of Nharati's palace; your home." Was she daft to persist? Most likely. None of this was going to bode well at all. "Was it not magic that drove you to your actions? Ultimately led to your death?" She did not know anything other than what her dreams and visions had revealed, and they were cryptic, at best.

Danele Valenti: (Retcon the last statement to Tyltin in that post referring to insanity. None would have known. )

Garnett could watch no more, knowing sorts of things her beloved mother-in-law saw, and she slipped from the couch onto her knees. The jarr lanced through her whole body, Garnett unable to supress a wince for her bruises and muscles had not yet healed. A delicate hand found its way to the small of the woman's back, supporting her gently while she kept her head bowed, each breath a fierce strugle. None of this she knew, not really, not even the magic though certainly whispers of strangeness had reached her ears. It was a rather belated realization that the Queen seemed to desire to speak with the Ghost King, the thought nearly dizzying her. Still, she could tell she was struggling with what she wished to say, and she curled a reassuring hand around her upper arm in silent support.

Mereavus watched Garnett in her movement, and opted to join her in a similar motion of support - fear or not, the dead could only go so far, and eventually even horror grew tedious. It all seemed to be dragging out far past what it should be. She placed one gloved hand on the Queen's shoulder, eyes lifting to look more directly at the Ghost himself. Not fearless, certainly, but an element of desire to support and protect cast said fear aside. Show her what he would; duty before fear. She adjusted to settle next to and just behind the Queen, forearm braced against her shoulderblades. A brief glance was given to Garnett, and then she went right back to looking at Tyltin. At least he seemed to have agreed, even peevishly.

Tyltin Valenti IV did a new trick, now. Rather than show her a memory, he showed her just what it was that he would like to do for her. In her mind's eye, his claymore was solid and shining and singing its war glory as it thrust through her throat, making her gurgle and whistle and make all manners of jerking. He would have played that image out longer, but abruptly he was frozen. All images stopped. His eyes, so wide, now widened more than was possible in life. His mouth opened... stretched... shattered as back of his head connected with the back of his neck. Fear was in the room, now, suffocating and imposing. Tyltin knew immediately. He knew, and he feared, and it was too much for him. For the first time, an audible scream wrenched through nonexistent lungs, so fierce and ear-piercing that it seemed to shake the very foundations. And then he began to melt as sand in an hourglass.

Danele Valenti was more than greatful for the support offered by Garnett and Mereavus. She leaned against them both, letting them hold her aloft, and kept her gaze directed toward Tyltin's. The new onslaught of images, combined with the sudden, suffocating fear, proved too much for the Queen. With a ragged scream, she collapsed back into the arms of the two women, allowing darkness to claim her. Well, so much for that. Remind her never to mess with the Underworld again.

Garnett's head snapped up as that awful fear descended on the room, cold that wasn't coursing through her nerves in a violent rush of gooseflesh that couldn't begin to express the chill that gripped her. Certain blood would erupt from her ears at those screams, she stared at Tyltin, unable to tear her eyes away as he crumbled. Though her hands tightened on the Queen, lowering her gently to the ground, she couldn't look away from the ghost as surely as she'd refused to look at him before. What the blood hell was going on here? "No!" It was a desperate yell directed at the Ghost King, an arm grasping for him..though so far distant she'd not even brush his fading form. "Tell us!" She shrieked at him, tears dripping down her cheeks, panting with her desperation to know what could terrify HIM.

Mereavus's fear was more directed at the Queen than it was Tyltin, arms descending swiftly on her passage into collapse. One settled onto the backs of her knees, the other around the upper regio of her torso, and she rose with the straining of muscles she didn't even know she had, and laid her out on the divan, hand tilting her jaw upwards to ensure that she could breathe. It remained there to balance it a moment, and then moved down to rest over her stomach lightly. Hang spirits, her concern was elsewhere. She balanced the back of Danele's cranium carefully in her second hand, simply poised and waiting for any sign that something might possibly be wrong other than a general passing out. She'd deal with her own loss of senses later.

[#] A feminine scream rips from the second floor of the Palace, echoing through the halls. Any near the women's wing would feel a horrible sensation of fear wash over them.

Danele Valenti was out cold, though her body trembled almost violently. That trickle of blood from her nostril increased, until it was flowing from both in a steady stream. The strain had been too much, obviously. She was definitely going to kick herself when she awoke, though. Queens did not faint!

Garnett cursed in the old tongue of her native land as she glared at the spot that had been the Ghost King. If Danele was going to risk herself to talk to him, she hoped the woman managed to find out something. Shuddering, she crawled over to the couch where the Queen was laid out, hands fumbling with her pocket to pull out a handkerchief when she saw the blood. Swallowing hard, she dragged back the sobs that threatened as she began to dab away the blood. "F-find..the King..and a healer." She instructed in a quivering voice. Her eyes kept steady watch on her stomach, absolutely certain that a curtain of blood was about to stain her skirts. "Mother..." She whispered, touching her lips to the woman's forehead. "He's gone now, Mother. Come back."

Mereavus didn't balk at the order, despite the fact that moving Danele off her lap might be worse for her than staying put, though she was particularly loathe to leave the Queen presently. She adjusted her hand to very lightly prop her up further, and slipped out from underneath her, supporting her weight with one arm and arranging pillows with the other. More important, realistically, than hurrying and knocking her over. But, once she had done, she crossed the room to fetch the water basin, and placed it nearby with her own handkerchief. "Dab her with cold water on her neck and wrists until I get back," she stated. "It might bring her around." And, off she went, practically fled, in fact, enlisting several servants on the way and returning only once she'd found said King, and informed him rather urgently that he wasn't wanted, but needed by the Queen.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen hurried through the first floor of the castle until he found a servant that pointed him up the stairs. He still had no idea precisely who had made that God-awful noise, but he intended to find out. Almost as soon as he entered the level, he nearly ran smack-dab into Mereavus. Only pausing to question where the trouble was, Wyld was deaf to any further words. He burst through the door to the Womens' Wing with Synaria in tow behind him, only to stop short as his eyes took in the scene: his wife unconscious near a steaming puddle of ghost-goo. For the first time in a great while, his mouth fell open in surprise. His anger and frustration with Synaria evaporated in that moment, replaced with confusion. "What has happened here?" He finally managed, his eyes turning to the only conscious person left in the room besides himself and the Hareshi Princess.

Danele Valenti heard Garnett's earnest plea beneath the cloying layers of unconciousness. Though she would have loved nothing better than to have stayed in the comforting arms of darkness, that quivering tone would not allow it. Reluctantly, she fought her way through the cloying layers. Thick lashes fluttered once, twice, before emerald eyes pulled themselves open. God, her head was pounding like every warhorse in the stables was tromping through it. "God in heaven, remind me never to do that again," she muttered from beneath the handkercheif held to her nose. Luckily, there was no pain in her abdomen. When Wyld appeared, with Syn in tow, she struggled to sit up, wanting nothing to worry him. It did not occur to her that it was a little too late for that. "I-I..." She struggled for a moment. "I..... saw a mouse and swooned?" Goooood one, Danele.

Garnett simply nodded, the blood trickling from Dan's nostrils smearing across her lip and cheek for all the Princess's efforts. Fear vibrated through every fiber of her, Garnett annoyed that she was unable to get her shaking hands under control as she gently stroked the Queen's wrists and neck with cold water, quiet murmurs that attempted to be reassuring pouring from her lips. Her head snapped up the moment the door opened, eyes red with tears and the terror that gripped her painting her face. Pure relief swept over her at the sight of the King, so fierce that she nearly lept to her feet to embrace him..but she caught herself. "Your Majesty.." Her voice shook, lips working wordlessly for a moment, trying to draw from her confused mind what had actually happened. "The...the Ghost King. He ..he came to her.." Without realizing it, she began rocking where she sat, counting the number of times her fingers touched the Queen's wrist before moving to the next. "He..he's afraid.." The words were scarcely a breath, throat tight as she stared at the King's boots. It never occurred to her to cover as the Queen had, her mind too numb for such things, though she did turn her gaze to blink at the rousing Queen.

Synaria rushed up the stairs behind the King, though it took a bit more effort to keep up with him. Her mind was still spinning with all he had told her, her heart feeling utterly sick, her stomach writhing as if it had punched her. But, it was replaced by confusion as she looked over the scene. Syn couldn't find the words to say, eyes flicking from the state of Danele and Garnett, as well as the pile of ooze. The obvious lie from Danele made a gemmed brow rise. Though Garnett's truth was even more stunning. Sapphires moved back to that puddle on the floor, lingering over it, and silent as could be.

(18:19) Tyltin Valenti IV: [Is not REALLY a puddle of ooze. He just melted into the ether.]
(18:19) You say, "[But it's fun to have ghost goo!]"
(18:19) Tyltin Valenti IV: [Far be it from me to contradict, then!]
(18:20) Synaria: [*removes all mention of ghost piddle from her post* XD]

Mereavus followed the King back down through the corridors, having little intent of simply abandoning duty, and moved directly over to Danele, settling onto her knees beside the divan and glancing at Garnett as she explained. She assumed Danele could fill in the rest herself, with the Princess' help, and simply stayed where she was, should she be required for anything further. The servants had gone for the healer, though likely it wasn't so necessary as it might have seemed previously. Her concern remained very focal - she could remember everything that had happened very clearly, and should she be asked, be able to recount it. Otherwise, it would be left to others to utter.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen's attention was utterly taken up by the rousing Queen. As soon as she spoke he stalked over the floor, stepping in the invisible-but-nevertheless-existant-spirit-slime as he did so.Danele's words were lost on his ears as he cupped her face, looking intently into her eyes before noticing the smear of blood at her lip. His brow drew down as he listened to Garnett speak. Upon mention of Tyltin's involvement his forest-green eyes shot up, locking onto Garnett's pale face. His expression was a potent mix of concern, fear, and anger. "The Ghost King did this?" That piercing gaze fell on each of the room's inhabitants in turn, even Synaria and Danele herself. Straightening,he felt his hand curl into a fist. "TYLTIN!" His voice broke over the room like a stone landing from a catapult. "TYLTIN VALENTI THE FOURTH, I HAVE NEED OF YOUR COUNSEL!" Anger unlike any he'd felt washed over him, removing all reason, all royal conditioning. Someone had hurt his wife, and he intended to make them answer for it.

Danele Valenti's eyes widened in Wyld's grip. Despite paleness, and the smears of blood, she looked none the worse for the wear. Wyld's words had her rearing up even further, grabbing his arm in desperate fingers. "NO!" she nearly screamed. The images and threats came rolling back into her mind like a tidal wave. "No, please! He came because I asked. I should have known better!" Her tone was urgent and panicked. She wanted nothing to befall her husband. Nharati could afford to lose her. It could not afford to lose it's King. "Please... Wyld... he will hurt you." Tears shimmered in her eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks. For the moment, everyone else was forgotten.

Tyltin Valenti IV replied, surprisingly enough. It was not with presence, nor with horrendous images of slaughtered folk. Instead, it was a sound. A sweeping, roaring, dissonant scream that filled all inches of the room. Indeed, of the castle. Men in town would later speak of that terrible sound that they heard, a panicked and fearful scream that no mere mortal man could make. It was hoarse, almost keening. Some would describe it as a death rattle, but others would dispute that it was a fearful warning.

Garnett shuffled back from the Queen so the King would have room to approach her, her eyes seeming unable to properly focus on the room or the people in it. Helplessly, they lifted to Synaria until they swung around to stare, blinking blankly at the King. His voice made her ears hurt, and childishly, she clapped her hands over them, the red-headed girl creeping away from them all to curl up in front of the fire. She shook..she couldn't stop shaking..until that wrenching noise tore through her. Abruptly, she was still, cowering in the corner of the room as if they were after her, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen's fierce determination was shaken by Danele's plea, his anger stuttering within him, its foundations crumbling in the face of his concern for the woman. He was about to reply that he wasn't afraid of ghosts when that scream hit him, and everyone else in the castle. It lanced deep within him, undercutting his bravado and wrapping daggers around his bowels, until he fell to one knee. The sound was gone almost as quickly as it came, but it lingered on in the back of his mind, silencing him.

Synaria winced as the King looked at them all. She knew she had nothing to worry over, she had been in his presence the whole time, but still, it was unnerving. Moreso as he began to bellow. As he did, Syn thought it best for her to make a quick exit. She didn't want to see the ghost, she didn't know what they could see in people, and Tyltin, was the worst of them all. Slowly she began to back to the door, step by careful step, even as poor Garnett's pale face made contact with her. Fingertips reached out behind her to grab the handle of the door when the terrifying wail sounded. Fear like she had never known ripped through her and painted fingers tightened on the knob, face loosing all color. Sapphire's widened and roamed wildly around the room, as if the terrible king would spawn at any moment following. Her knee's shook, and it took everything she had to keep from falling to the floor.

[#] For the second time that day, terrible sounds erupted: A sweeping, roaring, dissonant scream that filled all inches of the room. Indeed, of the castle. Men in town would later speak of that terrible sound that they heard, a panicked and fearful scream that no mere mortal man could make. It was hoarse, almost keening. Some would describe it as a death rattle, but others would dispute that it was a fearful warning.

Danele Valenti damned near jumped out of her skin, anymore plea abruptly silenced in the sound of the scream. Though, she did not know what was worse. That retched, tortured sound, or the ensuing silence afterwards. A myriad of emotions ripped through her, from fear, to anger. Unfortunately, or maybe not, the later took a firm hold of her conciousness. She was Danele Valenti, Queen of the most powerful kingdom in the entire hemisphere, wife to Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen, and mother to his children. No one, not even a long dead, insane King, was going to smother the fire burning in her breast. Slowly, she released her hold on Wyld, then struggled to her feet. Squaring her shoulders, and pushing back her hair, she used the back of her hand to swipe at her bloodied nose. "You bastard," she muttered, tone more fierce than even her husband had ever heard. "If you are that frightened, then do something about it! Help me, damn you!" Then, without warning, she threw back her head and let out an ear piercing scream of her own. No, it was nearly as devestating as the grand Tyltin's, nor carried as far, but it was there, nonetheless.

Garnett stared, fingers still curled over her ears so her heart thrummed loudly in her head, the pace of it fast and rough. The King brought to his knees, Synaria trembling, and the Queen...they all pushed her terror deeper, but her eyes locked on Danele, hoping the woman she admired so much would give her something to cling to..until she spoke. A violent wince shot over her face as the woman's words and tone pierced into her skull, and she whimpered, clutching at her head. Shoulders hunched with the scream, Garnett feeling very much trapped at that moment, her eyes snapping to the door as if her life depended on reaching it. Trembling, she grabbed at the bookshelf to try to rise to her feet, looking at them all as if she'd never seen the before.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen took a deep, steadying breath to help him recover from the daggers of that scream. Shakily he got to his feet just as Danele did, confused by her sudden vitality and anger. Rather than reprimanding her, however, he wrapped an arm about her shoulders and stood tall beside her, hardly wincing at her own loud scream. His strong arm held her close to him, his lips finding her hair for a comforting nuzzle. "He's gone," he whispered with obvious relief. His eye caught Garnett struggling to rise, and he sighed. "It appears we've all had quite an exciting afternoon," he said, his voice lifting to fill the room with its authoritative resonance. "Let us each rest how best we see fit." Turning, he kept his wife in his strong grip and headed for the door without another word, intent on removing her from this room as quickly as possible.

Synaria winced at the Queen's words and scream, it was enough to get Syn moving. Before even Wyld had dismissed them all, Syn turned the knob of the door and threw it open, looking over her shoulder once before fleeing. But where was she going? She hadn't a clue. All she knew was she needed to leave those people, and those screams. And off she went, wandering the castle in a daze.

Danele Valenti was ready to go to damned war, as angry as she was. She wanted to scream in rage again, tear the very walls down if she had to. Then, Wyld's arm was around her and she was leaning into him, adrenaline beggining to ebb. With a sigh, she nodded in complacence as he led her from the room.

I'm going to poo on you, sweetiedoll.

This is Tyltin.