(LOG) The Nyrthlonders Arrive

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen sat once again in full regalia upon his great throne; boots were polished to an impeccable black shine, his deep navy trousers tucked into the tops of them. Fine velvet adorned his frame, resplendant with the colours of his Kingdom. Even the high crown on his head contained three sapphires. Even two great battleaxes framed the rear of the throne on the wall behind, chipped and scarred with obvious use, both almost too massive to be wielded by normal men. The guards flanking the throne held smaller axes, their breastplates bearing the Valenti crest. The floors and falls had all been washed to a fine luster throughout the castle, most especially in this room, where the people of import to the Valentis and the Court were gathered. A glance to his lady wife offered Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen a modicum of comfort even under the expectant gazes of his courtiers...he imagined he could feel the tension mounting in the air. He certainly didn't know what to expect from the Nyrthlonders but he was prepared for the best--and the worst. Those very guards, bedecked in their finest livery and armour, were but a command away from apprehending the King of Nyrthlond should he prove too troublesome. Wyld didn't have time to reflect on the presence of Cyrus within these walls, though he knew the man was still a Prince. For now, the question seemed less relevent than when the Nyrthlonder herald would arrive.

Danele Valenti sat beside the King, as impeccably attired as he. Her gown was sheer perfection, made of royal purple silk, and trimmed in a dark gold edging. The bodice fit her full breasts snugly, while soft folds fell down to her feet, gently concealing the swollen belly beneath. However, when she sat, there was no hiding the fact; not that any wished to. Upon her loose, auburn tresses, her own crown rested, crusted in a stunning array of amethysts, sapphires, and diamonds. She, too, awaitred the appearance of the fellow royals. Though rumors were always circulated, one could never know until coming face to face. She glanced to the side at her husband, then discreetly, slid her pale hand over to his own. His larger was given a reassuring squeeze, for she knew the King was most concerned about this meeting. Next, her gaze scanned the throneroom, touching on this one and that, offering the gentle smile she had become known for.

Emersyn moved within the bustle of people settling, the gold beneath the ornate black lace of her gown glittering in the light of the room, polite appropriate greetings given where necessary, gushing over those she hadn't seen in years even as she saw the knowing glint in their eyes. Silently, she took a seat near the front, hoping that the Queen's advisor would take the spot nearest her, the visual alliance a useful one against wagging tongues. Warm eyes wandered toward the Queen who she offered a genuinely warm smile and the tiniest of winks before traveling on to the King beside her. It was almost a shock to see him in full regalia, but her eyes lingered on him for precisely the right amount of time for a lady of her station, too casual would be just as bad as too interested. The pair of them certainly were a regal sight, and she felt stab of patriotic pride as she sat, hands clasped in her lap and spine straight.

Eilella took her seat gently, hands folded in a content facade on her lap. Dressed for the occasion, Ella appeared in what she could muster up as her best. The colour really did suit her complexion. Careful mint eyes scanned on everyone. Outward appearence hardly hinted anything. It was not hard to imagine possible scenarios of two royals meeting and her unsides were churning. The gentle look of the queen did relax her so. Danele had a way about her for doing that, Ella briefly thought. Feet crossed and uncrossed at the ankles, carefully conceled under the layer of her skirts. How picky were the visiting royals? If I pin dropped whislt they spoke, would there be a declaration of war? Or were they brutes of there own? The copper-haired lady's mind wandered so.

Synaria strode into the room, with all the grace and elegance expected of a princess, even if she was in a good deal of pain. Hair had been perfectly curled and placed high on her head, letting a few loose curls spill down to tickle her neck and shoulders. Flap of bangs, was placed so the scar was mostly hidden. Sari fit tightly around her waist, the extra length coiled around her arm. Bright blues searched the room, offering a light smile to any gaze she met and slowly seated herself on one of the chairs in the front row of the hall, next to Ella. Her poise was strangely perfect for the usually laid back Princess, back kept utterly straight, ankles crossed and those finely painted hands resting in her lap. "Evening, Eilella." She whispered, giving her a light smile before silencing herself, turning her eyes to the front of the room to where the royal pair sat.

Cedric Dunmir enters the throne room slowly and looked around before he took his seat silently dressed in his finest clothes and well polished armor, what little armor he wore that is. His often wild hair was combed neatly and tied back into a tail, if he said he wasn't nervous he'd be lyng, this was something big and he could feel it. The silver breastplate he wore polished to a bright shine and the same were for his black boots. The ranger only had his sword and crossbow but not held in his hand. His sword hung by his side and his crossbow hung over his back and with a quiver of bolts. Prepaired for the best or worst outcome and ever ready, eyes scanned the room and he caught the smile of the queen, that did comfort him as he was sure it did for others. He wondered how this would go and closed his eyes for a moment and prayed silently before he opened his eyes once again, ready.

Mereavus entered shortly after Emersyn; predictably in red, not so predictably in corsetry and black wolf fur. She swept through the door with her usual regal, imperious head carriage, attention naturally caught instantly by Danele. Warm smile offered similar to Emersyn's, though hers came with a slightly more personal overtone of wiping whatever upset there had been clear. Inclination of her head went forward, and then she went to find her poised place next to the Lady von Pith in that visual of unity. She descended to the seat with a smoothed settling of her dress, spine having no choice but to be straight in that contraption, and her shoulders and hands settling into their proper places. Intriguing event to be at, for certain - radiance for show, patriotism entirely in reality.

[#] A flourish of fanfare errupted through the throne room. The herald's voice rang out loud for all to hear. "All rise and hail the King of Nyrthlond, The Ilves Triumphant, Protector of the North and the Ice Seas, Defender of the Frost Giants and Descendent of Orsk himself.." A pause perhaps, or a hesitation as the herald got to the name, a woman's name. "Ulrika Kergard! All welcome the Prince Consort, Cyrus Kergard. All welcome emissary of the Frost Giants, Brith, Prince of Lers." On he continued with the names of all the notables, though doubtless little was heard past the mention of the King, and even less upon the name of the Prince Consort.

Ulrika Kergard scarcely gave the herald time to finish announcing her before she swept in at the head of her party. Though they'd arrived the night before, people tended to see what they expected, and with her garbed fully male and speaking little, she was almost certain the effect would be complete. Even now, her chosen clothing was distinctly masculine, the flowing calf-length overcoat in glacier blue samite over hose and tunic of the same shade, leather boots too dyed to match precisely. Each step resounded on the carpeted floor, her snowbear fur mantle flapping with each step. Icy eyes raked over the room beneath a straight blond fall of hair only to her shoulders. Ulrika Kergard's face likely seemed oddly familiar to much of the court, though they never had seen her before, but the absolute similarity of the Prince Consort at her side answered that question. Upon her head, a silver crown glinted in the form of ice shards, white and blue diamonds glittering against deadly sharp points. Her cool gaze finally settled on the massive throned King, and she inclined her head ever so slightly, his wife ignored.

Cyrus Kergard followed along behind his twin-sister, dressed to match her nearly perfectly. He had recovered quite a bit since his near-starvation in the wilds after his flight...his jaw lay smooth, hair falling about his shoulders, though his face held a sullen note. He'd so wished to wear a dress, just to offset the oddity of his sister, his King. A contingent of Nyrthlonder guards surrounded the two visiting royals, though even they were wary of Brith. He stood a full head and shoulders taller even than Uhtred would have, had the Crown Prince been in attendance; frost-white hair and beard fell to his waist, obscuring his bare, blue chest, laced with darker veins. His only concession to clothing was a set of trousers made from snowbear furs, and when he reached the throne room, a slight chill settled over the air. Cyrus hung back, whispering to him in a language no one else in the room was like to know, before he moved to join his sister.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen's first clue this night would not go anything near as planned was the hesitation in the herald's voice. In that instant, it was quite clear something was wrong...generally such men were flawless, using such pauses by design of the voice for which they spoke. Such things almost never boded well for the listeners of such an announcement. The female name struck him strangely, at first, and he instantly attempted to rationalize it...perhaps he was mistaken, and it was a name for a true Nyrthlonder King? Perhaps the herald had misspoken? But no, he saw instantly that the King was in fact a female--the curve of her cheek was enough to tell him, subtly feminine in a way Cyrus's was not. The crown upon her head hammered the fact home, especially when her brother wore none. It took all the decorum Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen had not to allow his jaw to hang open in astonishment at that moment. When his forest-green eyes flicked to the walking glacier behind Cyrus he failed at the task. Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen showed the whites of his teeth to the entire Court for nigh-on a full minute before he blinked and straightened in his throne, clearing his throat. He met Ulrika's gaze with a coolness verging on belligerence, every fiber of his expression showing his disbelief. "...Welcome to Nharati..." he began, before hesitating. His natural inclination was to address her as a Queen, but he felt such a breach would be unforgivable; instead, he allowed his hesitation to settle into silence, without further address given.

Mereavus rose, naturally, at the herald's announcement, russet eyes turning to this King of Nyrthlond. And would you look at that. A single lookover made removing the slender fan from her mantle necessary, and she turned those dark eyes towards Emersyn with one of those looks that was only translatable between the two in question; How very interesting. She knew a kindred spirit when she saw one. The fan spread itself shortly after, intended to cover something of an amused smirk. She fanned herself as though a delicate woman who felt the necessity of calming herself before the vapours took over, brow quirking some at the veritable lack of title. She could just predict the vituperation that would come from that, eyes sliding back to this she-King once that long look with Emersyn had been exchanged.

Danele Valenti was as surprised as the King. Only years of training kept the expression from her face when the King turned out to be a she. That one was sure to garner enough rumors to keep the Palace buzzing for months. Quite the interesting party, they were, flanked by the brother and behemoth of protector. Was his chest actually blue? A sardonic smile touched her lips at the blatant disregard of her presence. Now, that was no way to enter a kingdom, now was it. Never one to be shoved aside, the Queen pasted on her most gracious smile and inclined her bejewled head. "Welcome to Nharati, your Majesty. It is with great honor that we recieve you into our lands. That welcome extends to the Crown Prince, of course, as well as all within your party."

Emersyn rose along side Mereavus with a politely interested look on her face that dissolved into wide eyes though her lips remained pressed together. Her dark gaze found itself locked on the slender King of Nyrthlond with an undeniable fascination, but she snatched them away to share that glance with Eave, all too knowing. Interesting indeed. It was Wyld's stumble that drew her back to the moment, and as the rest of the room took their seats, she watched silently, unable to keep from glancing over this ..King and her own King. A silent mental blessing was shot toward Danele for her impeccable sense, the tension in the room slowly ebbing up.

Synaria turned and stood as the herald began his call. The womanish name uttered did not suprise her, as she was unfamiliar with their native tongue, and went on the assumption that it was indeed masculine. Cyrus' name sparked a light churn of her stomach, in anticipation of further tension. All that though, was blown away when the curious party entered. Gemmed brow tried to perk up as jaw desperately ached to drop after a moment of stunned confusion as the true gender of the King was realized. To hide the war with her facial muscles, Syn lowered herself in a deep bow as they party passed her. Bright blues focusing on the floor, deep breaths taken to ease her stomach and cool her rapidly churning mind. Of course, some questions would not be silenced. Who, or what was the blue chested brute? An Other? How was he allowed passage to Nharati? Was it paint? And mostly... how had a woman gained the title of King?

Eilella rose with the crowd to honour the foreign nobility. Brow creased lightly at the King's feminine name and even more so at the mention of Cyrus, of whom rumors still traveled around. At the sight of the female King, Ella followed suit of Synaria and held her mouth tightly shut so the sudden cough would not escape. That would be horribly awkward. She kept her eyes politely down-cast, briefly glancing up in hope to exchange a glance with Synaria. And how Danele excepted them after such a slight! Ella marveled the polite Queen. This..was going to be one interesting evening.

Ulrika Kergard's triumph sparkled in her pale eyes as she watched the unrufflable King of Nharati actually lose his composure enough to have his jaw hanging open like a baby bird. The stares of his court were enough to have a smirk twist over her thin lips, women fluttering with fans..half of them looking away though she could not fail to catch the amusement of some of the women. Good humour faded, however, and a brow arched at the King of Nharati for so bare a form of address, and her eyes sharply shot to his wife when she spoke. "You are most gracious, Queen Danele, and it is with pleasure that we visit your fair land." If the King would fail to address her properly, she would fail to acknowledge him, hand extending to her brother. Ulrika Kergard continued on, her voice patiently instructional as she addressed the Queen. "Prince Cyrus, however, is not Crown Prince, I fear, Your Majesty, but Prince Consort..something like a Queen." A bright smile crept over her lips. Yes, she would flaunt that forbidden relationship now. What good was being King if she could not? "Our customs differ from yours in some respects in regards to succession." Indeed, no one was given a crown.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen shared a brief but uneasy glance with the Captain of the Guard, who was just as dumbfounded by the Other as the King himself was. The odd party consumed his attention, keeping it away from the twin spectres of Emersyn and Synaria...of course, now the tactical situation had vastly changed. It remained to be seen just who might wind up being the captives if a struggle ensued. Wyld was confident that his soldiers could keep the small party from taking over the castle, but he was not at all confident he nor his lady wife would keep their necks intact in the process. Realizing his folly, the King suffered Ulrika's condescension to his wife as patiently as possible before clearing his throat. "Apologies for the misunderstanding, Your Highness," he said loudly enough for all in the room to hear. Her notion of a Prince Consort left a bad taste in his mouth, as much because Cyrus had been betrothed to his own daughter as he was Ulrika's brother by ties of blood.Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen covered his distaste with a concealing smile, still not conceding the full weight of a Your Majesty or Your Grace."It is my most fervent wish that our two Kingdoms should continue on the path of friendship and understanding, the foundations of which your esteemed father and I worked so ardently to accomplish." Well, at least Wyld had done; the old dead King was even madder than Cyrus toward the end.

Cyrus Kergard beamed at the royal couple when Ulrika pointed him out, his eyes widening for emphasis when she pointed to his station. A slight nod reinforced her words, as easy as an unconscious tick. He felt the cold building within him, his eyes flashing a more brilliant, glacial blue for a moment...but he mastered the urge to unleash the frost within, remembering well Ulrika's dire warnings to keep from embarrassing her overly much. Cyrus was pretty certain that freezing the Nharati Court to death would qualify. He remained silent for much the same reason, though he could not help but indulge in a lascivious grin.

Danele Valenti found it was taking every bit of lesson and training she possessed to maintain a calm facade. Oh, this was just too rich! However, in some deep part of her, she rather got a kick out of this woman king. She had tread upon ground that was commonly forbidden to women, and had succeeded. "Your customs are foreign to us, Your Majesty," she conceded, after Wyld had spoken. "The King, and myself, are of like minds in wishing continued understanding. It is with humilty we ask for your patience, and know that you are of like minds." Her eyes touched on Cyrus for a brief moment. Such a handsome one he had alway been, but it had not been difficult to detect the traces of madness within. He seemed to accept the title given him all too willingly. Another interesting tidbit, to be sure.

Synaria finally rose from her bow, sharing a long look with Ella, the suprise evident in her face while it was turned away from the view of the party. Slowly then she turned back as the Royalty exchanged pleasantries. Another shock came then, at Cyrus' title, blazing blues widening, thankful that none seemed to be paying attention to her. Another deep breath was taken as she felt the tension mounting. But another odd sensation crept over her. Those usually placid black nails twitched gently, causing a low thrumming tremor that echoed up each slender bone. Glance was cast downward to them. Usually that only occured when she was overly... emotional. It seemed odd for it to be happening now. And for the millionth time, she was thankful there were no outward signs of the ink's unease. Teeth bit her lip in thought before it was shoved aside, in favor of absorbing the interaction at hand.

Ulrika Kergard one more ignored the King of Nharati, rather certain that it was something he was unused to, instead waiting for his wife to speak. When she finished, Ulrika actually granted her a small respectful bow. "Patience I can grant, Your Majesty, for I have no issue with those are eager to learn." The smile that crossed her lips verged on predatory. "And I'm certain we all would find continued understanding the most reasonable course." Straightening, her cold eyes found Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen, holding his green ones for a long moment unflinchingly. She knew the little sandrat Princess that Cyrus had told her about was to her right, having seen the extremely exotic clothes and dark skin in her first glimpse around the room. Without removing her gaze from the King, she spoke, her voice ringing out over the room. "Princess Synaria, do you know what my title is?" Too bad none of his own children were in attendance, or that little Leugeilean brat, but this one would do. "Please share it with the Court, if you would, Your Highness."

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen took a deep, steadying breath to settle the outrage flickering through him at the Nyrthlonder cunt's continued obstinance. Swallowing his pride, he suffered her continued address to Danele, his hand serruptitiously squeezing the Queen's for support...both his, and her own. He very nearly rose when Ulrika had the gall to call him out in such a brazen fashion, his eyes flashing angrily to Synaria, waiting to see if she would answer the summons. He'd told her to take every reasonable means to please his guests, but he hardly remembered such a trifle in the heat of the moment. Only Ulrika's lip-service to continued fraternity stayed him from unleashing his pride.

Danele Valenti allowed her facade to slip for the first time. Her smile grew strained about the edges. It was one thing to show hostility toward fellow royals, but to drag her children into the fray? The Queen was not having it. She was as fiercely protective as any mother over her own, be they by birth or marriage. After squeezing the King's hand once more, Danele smoothly rose from her seat, despite her swollen middle. Gracefully, she stepped from the dias and executed a wonderfully perfect curtsy. "Come now, your Majesty, surely this reassurance of your title is unnecessary?" Her tone was so sweet, so soft, one could go into sugar shock. "There has been a grand feast prepared in your honor." She purposely failed to mention Cyrus, wanting Ulrika to think the focus was on her alone. "The King, himself, ordered that only the best foods, wines, and entertainment be brought in for this auspicious occassion. You would honor us by coming and partaking." It had been Danele's doing of course, but none need know that. "There is naught a fine wine, and some wonderful laughter, cannot tame."

Emersyn found that she was scarcely breathing as this night's reception turned quickly in a direction she never would have anticipated, the sight of Wyld so discomfitted verged on humourous for the King of Nyrthlond seemed as stubborn as he was, and had she not felt the tension stretching toward blood shed, she might have laughed. As it was, she had to force her face to smoothness, absolutely staring when the woman addressed the Princess. Danele, bless her, stepping in...Em nearly rising from her seat to force the woman back to her chair, but she stayed frozen in place, observing everything. A quick glance wandered toward Eave, a hand touching her arm that certainly had to be reassuring.

Eilella-- After the glance was broken, she reached for Synaria's hand, to give it a brief squeeze before quickly returning to the woman's side. Syn could interpret however she wished--reassuring, assuring, a gesture from a friend. However she wished. An amused expression played on Ella's face. The corners of her painted lips twitched, just dying to break out in a grin. But she repressed it quite well, much to her own surprise. Though the taken back expression was not so well conceled and she immediately thought to do some sort of reassuring gesture to the princess but hesitated to get her thoughts straight--rightly so! Ella kept quiet, only giving Syn what she could, a kind smile. Eyes glanced up to the Queen, hoping her sweet distraction would get the attention of the the foreign King.

Mereavus underwent an odd moment of amusement, though it instantly followed itself with recognition that Danele wasn't entirely all right, and thus her spine straightened in that ever-protective urge. Her fan snapped shut, and she slotted it away, russets' attention now firmly on the King for an entirely different reason. The touch to her forearm made her glance across towards Emersyn, hand rising to touch the tips of her fingers lightly. Her attention soon laid itself properly on Danele, jaw tilted some - the humour was still present, though she failed to find much funny if her Majesty wasn't quite at her best. Hand kept the contact between herself and the Lady von Pith - it solidified the 'vapours' excuse, and provided more in the way of that visual alliance.

Synaria's blood ran cold when the woman spoke her name, head lowered slightly. The angry gaze of the Nharati King did nothing to help ease her. The spot she was put in seemed impossible. To speak the title was to further humilate her King in the eyes of these Nyrthlondians, but not to speak, could reap worse consequences. It was then that Danele spoke, putting a pause to Synaria's mental battle. Her tongue lay silent, though she stayed uncomfortably bowed, her body protesting to the position. Ears strained, burning blue gaze daring to lift and shifting between the King's, waiting to see if Danele's sweet distraction would do as intended, or if the King still demanded such a horrible embarassment. All the while her nails continued to vibrate her bones. Ella's smile could be felt, but Syn was too rooted in position to make any visible notice of it.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen very nearly kept his grip on Danele's hand, though in the end he let her go, choosing not to stand himself; such an action might be seen as hostile. Years of diplomacy kicked in, the Nharati King's discomfiture easing. Not many could be said to have intimidated Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen, and none managed it for very long, present company included. Demuring with a nearly-authentic smile, Wyld nodded his agreement with his wife when she made mention of the feast. "Just so...Your Majesty," he finally conceded, trying valantly not to grit his teeth. "Will you and your party please join us in a fine banquet in your honour?"

Ulrika Kergard's pride seemed just as fierce as her Nharati counterpart. She would have her station acknowledged, and properly, by the King if the two of them required a staring contest of three days. She was King of Nyrthlond, and she would not leave until it was acknowledged. "Sweet Queen.." Her voice was deadly soft, eyes focused Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen as she extended a hand toward Danele, bringing it to her lips in reverent fashion. "I apologize for straining you at such a time, and indeed look forward to the feast, but I do, indeed, require such acknowledgement." Cold fingers released Danele's hand, an overly pleasant smile dancing over her face as she turned toward Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen, as if to say now was that so hard? Ulrika Kergard answered in a smoothly respectful tone, smile never touching her eyes. "I would be delighted to, Your Majesty. Thank you so kindly for your welcome to Nharati. I assure you, it will not be forgotten." Her heels clicked together as she bowed, arm outstretched for Cyrus with a smug smile on her lips. "Let us enjoy the good King's bounty!"

Cyrus Kergard's hands dove into the sleeves of his long tunic in Acolyte fashion, so he could claw at his forearms in peace. The pain helped to contain the laughter bubbling beneath the surface, his ice eyes skipping from the King to the other King to the Queen, to one of the guards who looked positively delicious with his close-trimmed beard and long wooden pole topped with that sharp axehead...but Cyrus didn't even dare wink at the teasing boy, lest he distract anyone from the unfolding hilarity around him. When the Nharati King yielded, Cyrus was apt to frown, but he instead nodded slowly. "Come, Brith," he suggested to the Frost Giant, who stepped out of the way of the doors and would follow the Prince Consort at the ragged end of the party.

Danele Valenti's smile remained, even if her emerald gaze hardened a small degree. She allowed her hand to be taken, kissed even, by this feminine King. At least Synaria had been spared any indiginity, even if her husband had not. "Your gracious Majesty, a title is just that; a title. It is the action that one shows that determines who, and what, they are. You rule an entire kingdom, and succeed in doing so by the sweat, and blood, of your brow. Surely, your works speak far louder than any mere declaration could." She stepped back and purposely widened her smile, looking to the court. "Come, and let us feast this eve, my lovelies. The dining hall is open and awaiting our pleasure." Sure enough, the grand hall was lit brightly with hundreds of tapers, the finest china and crystal had been laid out, and servants waited to serve one and all.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen stood at last, regarding Ulrika seriously for a long moment, as if to admit that yes, it was very hard indeed. Stepping down from the raised dais on which the thrones were placed, he bowed as low as he dared, careful to keep that cumbersome crown upon his brow. "Follow me, please, Your Majesty." Rising, he allowed the court to be gathered by command of his lady wife, taking the lead in walking through the throne room. He gave the Frost Giant a wide berth, unable to keep from glancing up the man-thing's towering torso to those frighteningly intelligent eyes. A shudder died low in his spine, the King afraid of no beast, though he took care not to show any disrespect...for the moment. The way to the dining room was short indeed, and Wyld remained standing within until everyone else was seated.

Ulrika Kergard's face softened slightly, finally nodding to the King. Pride was a hard thing to swallow, but she demanded no more than her due, and no more than he would in her position. Recognition mattered when it came to heads of state, and she had not fought to attain her position so a pompous arse like Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen could slight her, but she spoke no further. When the King rose and invited her to follow, the King of Nyrthlond stalked out at his side, even if her size made her look rather like a child trotting along side her father, unwilling to break the silence as they made their way. She stood still next to him, hands clasped behind her back. A man was different when he was standing, and this she observed, considering him.

Synaria had waited until the party started to shift into the dining area before straightening from her bow. Ignoring her various pains she kept her back straight, shoulders squared and her chin up a royal degree. Eyes pinned on the giant for as long as he was in sight, a shiver coursing through her, and she assumed it was him that her 'ink' had reacted so violently to. When in the dining hall, she took the appropriate seating, blatedly realizing it would cause her to sit next to Cyrus. A tenseness settled into her muscles, but it was ignored for favor of keeping on her mask. When Ella entered, she gave a slight nod to the chair at her other side, beckoning her friend to sit at her side. Surely the night would not prove so trying with her there to keep the mouthy Princess grounded.

Danele Valenti entered the diningroom and purposely took her place in a chair not at the head of the table. A slight nod was given a set of footman, one who held Wyld's usual chair back, and the other held her own for Ulrika. "Please, King Ulrika, take the seat next to King Wyld(whole name insert here.). It is your honor, and due." She clapped her hands once everyone was seated, and immeadiately, a bevy of servants filed in, laden with trays of various foods, wines, and sweets.

Cyrus Kergard brought up the rear of the Nyrthlonders, sharing a few choice whispers with Brith...or, rather, giving them to him, as the Frost Giant had yet to say a single word, unless one considered a low rumbling growl to be language. His eyes fired with delight when he realized he would sit next to the sandy wench. Taking his chair, he inclined his head with a tight smirk. "Good seeing you again," he breathed, in the manner of a spider to a fly who'd once escaped its web only to return unexpectedly.

Eilella entered the room, quite amazed at the evening thus far. From going wholly unexpected, to bordering-hostile, then (large in part to the sweet queen) rather cordial again. She took a seat respectively by Synaria. Due largely to the friend factor and more minorly to the part which they both understood. Ella sat pleasently as the rest took their seats, hands clasped politely in her lap again for the evening. A smirk was carefully conceled, no doubt largely in part of the unusual turn the events had unfolded. The lady watched Cyrus carefully, not to happy at the way he seemed to address Syn. Perhaps the princess would also have to keep her in check.

Mereavus followed after Danele, seating herself smoothly next to her on arrival at the dinner table, and absently touching her hand over hers beneath the table, out of sight. She smoothly lifted her wine glass once it had been filled, setting it to her lips and then promptly going right into 'observe and silence' mode. She would watch these newcomers and the reactions they made, and only interact where necessary. As per usual, really; which likely Cyrus was well aware of. She shrugged the wolf fur mantle down to her elbows, magohany half-curls gathering in front of her shoulders - generally not accustomed to wearing corsets, the sheer exposure felt alien, and those few reddish, dark strands worked wonders on her feeling moderately more covered.

Emersyn swept out on the heels of Eave to join the party, her eyes lingering worriedly on Danele. Before taking her seat, she paused to place gentle hands on her shoulders, whispering a quick check on her state in her ears. Satisfied that the Queen was well, she took the place next to Eave. Curiousity and irritation warred in her, along with the realization that Wyld might very well find need to vent his frustration at such proceedings, a soft hiss of pain spreading through her in anticipation. With a deep breath, her attention moved across the table, eyes wandering over the two young ladies she had yet to meet, though no doubt the one on the end was part of the family Blacke, she had the look about her .. and Princess Synaria was unmistakable.

Wyldrigrenkledrysllthen drew up to his full height, wrists clasped at the small of his back as he greeted everyone who entered his eating hall. He hardly acknowledged the shorter monarch beside him until everyone else had shuffled in and taken a seat. Signalling to the seat beside him normally reserved for his lady wife, Wyld tried his best not to let his mind linger on that fact for too long as he took up a half-filled silver goblet. "Lords and Ladies, distinguished guests, and everyone who stands for our two Nations, please lend your ears." He raised his cup, considering it thoughtfully for a long moment. "For many long years our two domains have consolidated power in our respective realms, and we have not come into conflict in living memory...since before the seats of Nharati and Nyrthlond rose to the mantle of Kingdoms. This history enriches our lands, but is no reason for a continued enmity between our two peoples. I propose that we allow our grudges to petrify and dissolve, should any remain." A simple toast, to be certain, but effective for all that. "Now, let us eat and drink to our friendship!" With that, he downed his cup, and a second once a servant refilled it, only then gingerly taking his seat beside the King of Nyrthlond.

Cyrus Kergard's attention was taken up by the King of Nharati, a finger idly stroking along the stem of his own wine goblet. Such claptrap was the stuff of courts, of course, only further convincing Cyrus that royalty had to be the most insufferably boring people in the entire world. When he was finally given leave by his host to drink, he took up his cup and tipped it back, only to find that he'd accidentally frozen the wine where it sat. Whimpering in dismay, he jiggled the cup over his mouth before sighing and setting it down, dejectedly.

Synaria felt her insides cringe when that familiar voice spoke, but outward appearance showed none of her discomfort as it had when he had resided in the castle. A light smile twisted her lips and a congenial nod of her head was given. "And you as well." She answered in quiet lady-like fashion. She of course, felt Ella's displeasure and one painted hand lowered beneath the table to give the ones in her lap a gentle reassuring squeeze. Blues broke from the Prince to glance over at Ella, adding a smile that spoke volumes. That smile then turned to those across the table, fondness to Danele, though it lost its brilliance a degree when it turned on Mereavus and the woman she did not know, but had an idea of. Finally it turned to the Kings when Wyld began his speech, fingers curling around the stem of the wine before her. When he drank, Syn lifted her glass in proper cheer before taking a sip. Curious glance couldn't be helped as Cyrus whimpered, gemmed brow perking, her nails writhing all the harder. "Is the wine not to your liking?"

Ulrika Kergard found herself in a rather cheeky mood at that triumph, and when the Queen addressed her, she gave her a rather bold wink. "And so I shall, Your Majesty." All formality melted away, and she tossed aside her snowbear mantle for one of the servants to catch as she sat down. Her eyes scanned the servants for ale, signalling one of them to bring it to her. Her lips twitched into an amused smirk at the King's toast. Let the grudges die, indeed..when her title came more easily to his lips. "Here, here!" She called out, gulping her ale before smacking the goblet down on the table. Surprisingly, she flashed a grin at the King of Nharati, for the moment quite ready to eat and drink and be merry. Emnity could wait, and at least he hadn't been too easy to cow...the tension having won her grudging respect. A sudden frown tore over her face at the sound from Cyrus, earning him a glare as she snatched up his glass of wine to hand to a servant. "A fresh one, if you please."

Danele Valenti picked up her own goblet, though it was only filled with clear, cool water. Physician's orders, and ones she was not about to dispute. After the toast, she took a small sip. She returned Synaria's smile, though noted her daughter's slipped when her dark gaze found Mereavus and Emersyn. Eyes narrowed a small degree in thought, the gesture so impercitable, that it would be barely noticed. A plate was placed before her, filled with fruit and cheese, while another was placed before Wyld, filled with his favored meat and bread. A similar one was placed before Ulrika and Cyrus, while the others would vocally speak what they desired to be brought.