Private Tales Called to Court

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Iskandar Estate: Alliria - Main Hall


It was such a different thing, Petrus thought, to hold court and receive foreign dignitaries than it was to hold his more... personal gatherings. In one sense it made him feel powerful, deservedly so, but on the other a small part of him wondered if all nobility merely used the pomp and affluence as a shield for their more... less than honorable affairs. Every rival he'd had slain, every threat blackmailed or cowed into submission, seemed to be the case. From cheating on their wives or husbands to having children kidnapped and sold for profit to the morally destitute Petrus idly rubbed his chin as he awaited the arrival of the regent of Amol-Kalit, both considering himself now a good bit more 'clean' than some of his contemporaries and also wondering exactly what skeletons, so to speak, such a powerful woman had in HER closet.

Regardless the thought was only a passing thing, like a nice bauble in a shop window he strode by, earning his notice for a moment before it was gone forever. Lost in the fanfare and circumstance his position in Allirian society afforded, and burdened, him with. The wealth of his house was no secret, indeed he was more than eligible to content for a position on the Merchant Council, and for a time those in higher circles of society whispered of his lack of position there being quite the slight, or ploy by the council, but these rumors were pure superstition and the words of sycophants. In truth Petrus had politely declined consideration for the Council sometime ago, though he did keep the prospect open, he was more than content to stay just inside the Council's circle of associates and use such a position to his advantage in every conceivable fashion.

As such new rumors had begun to circulate. Now of his "unofficial Councilor" status and Petrus was loathe to even entertain these ramblings. He did what he did for his own reasons and did not answer to the murmuring masses beyond being a supplier for goods they may need to sate themselves. All told this extravagant, draconian wealth was once again on display as Petrus heard the approach of the Lady Regent of Amol-Kalit and her entourage. An entourage that would have, of course, been met by an accompanying escort of his own men long before approaching his estate. An estate that, for now, was a beehive of activity and effort. From the guardsmen with their supremely polished arms and armor to the servants who had scrubbed every surface clean even new carpets had been introduced so that the Lady Medja did not have to set foot on anything but finery. As was her privilege, of course.

The moment that the Lady Regent and her entourage entered the main hall their arrival was heralded by proclamations of all the appropriate titles and lines of finely-dressed house guards would separate row upon row of crossed pikes and Petrus would lean forward in his seat out of interest. The woman was as the paintings and portraits depicted, which was certainly surprising, most nobility demand those that portray to make them look more.... well.... more. He gave a low hum at the regent's choice of finely-applied, though heavy, make-up and stood as she approached his seat. Striding down the few short steps to meet her Petrus would bow his head in a show of respect, offering a hand, palm up, to accept her own as he spoke.

"We hope the travels have found you well, Lady Regent. Welcome to Alliria, and my home, such as they are. Your presence is an honor."

Petrus, however, did not quite smile. He was no charmer, no flatterer, and though his tone was polite it did not drip with affection or any attempt at purring hospitality. Instead Petrus would straighten himself and release Medja's hand, the Allirian's face a usual stony, inscrutable thing now melted a bit with idle curiosity as his brightly amber eyes swept over to the magical objects, two stone fists, that followed the regent, as well as her entourage. The usual assortment of guards, paiges, and attendants of her own expected. Including the presence of one white-haired, rather beautiful, Letai. Though Petrus did not let his eyes linger anywhere, he was not a child, and instead his amber orbs returned to meet Medja's own gaze as he spoke once again.

"We have seen to a dinner in your honor Lady Medja, though there is still some time before it is ready, tell me: Is there any piece of Alliria I could show you to whet your appetite? Any of your entourage are welcome to accompany you, of course."

Truthfully the regent was also a stunning woman, of poise and an underlying fierceness Petrus had grown accustomed to noticing in women of nobility and power. An underlying sense of threat and cunning that, though Medja stood at the perfect height to seem both small and petite, the jut of her chin to address him eye-to-eye did not at all seem childish. Rather he could respect the pride the woman carried herself with, even so far from home, as he had always respected ambition such as was obvious within Medja's eyes. An ambition she would find, strangely, not quite reflected in Petrus's eyes. Not because the Allirian lord was timid, far from it, but because his broad features and squared jaw were, quite simply, expressionless granite just bordering on politeness. Not out of any sort of disrespect but simply due to Petrus's own nature.


Medja Wisteria​

 

[Medja]

Immaculate or not, Mistress Medja of Ragash's feet would not grace the floors of the Iskandar estate. As ever, her prodigious magics in tandem with the various earth-rich bangles she wore enabled her to drift afloat, a few inches off the ground. She looked no worse for wear in her ensemble, an elegant piece that was quite modest by the Kaliti woman's standards. And, of course, the iconic symbols of her might, the Fists of Aramekh, hovered in the sorceress' tow.

Despite her appearance, however, she and her entourage were somewhat road weary. The journey from Ragash to Alliria was neither short nor easy, even whilst making use of the portal stones (honestly, that there were none yet discovered in Liadain closer than Elbion was nothing short of criminal). Still, she carried herself with all the poise and grace befitting a woman of her stature, and her escorts were no exception.

Among them were many of her Hidden Hands, of course, but also a few performers that had managed to earn her attention. An exotic, snow-white-furred dancer was among them.

Emerald eyes soaked in the sights of Petrus' home before settling on the man himself. Medja drank in his appearance with all the attention of an appraiser assessing a fine gemstone. He was weathered, yet very precisely put together and with a degree of rare, practiced restraint about him. This was a man who knew what he was doing. The edges of her lips quirked upwards, nearly imperceptibly.

Let the games begin...

"Well met, Lord Iskandar. My travels progresses as smoothly as could be expected, given the circumstances," The regent spoke with dignified authority, keenly practiced in the Allirian trade-speak, though her Kaliti accent shone through in spades. "I was told that the Allir Reach is usually quite rainy. I was pleased to find my caravan not plagued by such foul weather."

An attendant took a shawl from the mistress as she peeled the thing from her shoulders before neatly tucking it away. A polite smile formed on her mien as she considered the trade baron's offer.
"You have my deepest thanks for your hospitality, dear nobleman. I will admit, I have heard naught but wondrous tales of Allirian wine; as a connoisseur, I think perhaps a tour of a vineyard or storehouse might be in order. Ah, but I am in no rush, of course."

 

[Wisteria]

Wisteria was as poised as ever upon the approach of their destination, though a tingle of excitement traveled up her spine. She had never been so far from home, and it was so incredibly exciting. She had made friends with other entertainers, all hand picked by the Lady Medja. It was a high honor, but the hidden hand had already anticipated in being selected. Drunken men told tales, and perhaps something of note would slip. It was her job to pull that information and report it.

Ear were flicking back and forth, each new sound pulling her attention as they made their approach of the estate. Her tail gave a swish as she steadied herself for court, and she had even opted to wear shoes. Blue dancer silks wrapped luxuriously around her curves, but even she couldn't compete with Lady Medja in all her glory. Her eyes glowed with pride as she followed in the entourage, studying the man that had invited them here with a keen eye. They would exchange niceties, but really they all ached for respite from the journey, as new and fun as it had been, even Wisteria was ready for it.

Medja Petrus Ritus Iskandar

 

[Petrus Ritus Iskandar]

Iskandar Estate: Alliria - Main Hall


In the intervening moments between his final words and Regent Medja's retort Petrus would step forward and politely lace his hands behind his back. The court already setting about it's usual machinations of intrigue and interplay, with hidden hands and loyal servants mingling cordially. Meanwhile a banner of the golden sun and field of his house, contrasting starkly with an obsidian horizon, would frame the head of House Iskandar like some coronal crown. Frankly speaking if one did not know Petrus his stony disposition would likely make his demean and countenance toward the Lady Medja impolite or, even, hostile.

However, Petrus had noted the twitch of her lips and how her eyes had alighted upon him like a jungle cat wishing to test it's fangs and claws against whatever animal Petrus would allegorically be in that scenario. In this way he fully expected Medja to work her angles, ply at him, and he her in turn. Petrus accepted her niceties about the weather with a slow, knowing nod and waved a hand gently, attendants of lower station working to relieve and aid those among her entourage who had things to unpack and sort. Of course this aid would only go so far as to be polite and helpful, not probing or accusatory, and as Medja made her first soft demand, her first play, Petrus inclined his head forward ever so slightly. Not quite approaching a nod, but most definitely a motion of acknowledgement.

"Of course. Rain and pressure changes are an unfortunate side-effect of being so close to the most prolific trading lane in the world. But we are relieved to see it was no trouble to you."

If Medja's first play had been to ask after that which his house was most well-known for, to catch a glimpse of it's heart, Petrus's retort came even with his reply about the weather. That his value came from much more than the wine that had her curiosity and it was valuable to remember that. Turning his body without turning his back rudely away from Medja Petrus would idly move side-to-side with the Lady Regent and offer her his arm, to place her own if she was so inclined, as he continued. Though his action and following were could be seen as rather.... warm Petrus kept the same inscrutable demeanor upon his face even as his voice barely shifted to match something just a hair closer to the formal politeness Medja offered.

"I have heard naught but wondrous tales of your wit, and only a fool would consider a request such as yours rushing, my leisure is certainly able to accommodate. Rest can, of course, come after your room has been prepared and dinner served."

Another pair of subtle answers given now, entirely truthful in it's premise the appeasement was meant to enliven Medja's perception before the small, quite honestly easily overlooked mention of Petrus's leisure was a nearly-subconscious reminder that even though he would acquiesce to Medja's request... it was on his time and in his house. Though, despite these small, sub-textual motions of politic and banter Petrus did stop for a single moment to turn his gaze upon Medja's entourage and add.

"I would, however, never dare suggest you travel without one of your attendants."

Picking out the white-furred Letai from early with a subtle nod Petrus would idly turn his richly amber eyes to the emeralds that were Medja's as he suggested.

"This one, perhaps? She seems.... attentive."

Petrus gaze down unto the small Letai was neutral and heavy, not impolite or hostile, not accusatory nor suspicious. A careful intensity to his gaze born of a lifetime of being above beings like Wisteria, of commanding people of her station, left it with quite the passively domineering quality of someone who was simply the ever-dangerous combination of born and bred to rule leveling their judgement at someone else. Naturally Petrus had his own reasons for selecting the Letai but those reasons remained a mystery behind those amber eyes, that granite countenance, and rough-cut gemstone of quality that seemed to suffuse the Allirian nobleman.

Medja Wisteria​

 

[Medja]

Such grim unwaveringness in this one! If Medja hadn't been confident of her current locale, she might've taken the man before her for an Anirian noble rather than an Allirian one. The courtesy of his statements belied the meaning beneath them, a play that only those of great experience would make, if the regent's many political tangles in her past were anything to speak of.

"I am no stranger to the fact that prosperity stems from water, just as life itself does. Even still, Alliria is quite unlike the flourishing canals of my home. It is...refreshing," she answered in turn, reminding Petrus in kind of just where it was she hailed from. Ragash, the glistening city, the jewel of Amol-Kalit, would not be renowned as such if it weren't a thriving desert blossom among the seas of sand that surrounded her. Affluence was no stranger to Medja.

The regent smiled coyly as she floated astride the nobleman, looping her arm delicately through his as he offered it. While Petrus was an implacable stone wall, Medja wore her confidence on her proverbial sleeve. She tittered politely at the nobleman's commendation.

"My, my! And here I had heard of your prowess as an entrepreneur, but ne'er as a charmer," she returned, ever-smiling. "Very well, at our leisure, then."

An important distinction: "our." A subtle reminder of her own that she had spared the time and resources to travel here herself, rather than send an envoy on her behalf.

The sorceress turned her head idly to note the attendant that Petrus had indicated. Interesting; he had managed to select one of her entourage that was among her Sapphires, presenting merely an entertainer. Whether this was by chance, an informed decision, or simply a lucky guess, Medja knew not. It did not matter, however. While she did enjoy the company of her Emerald Hands, those enforcers among her ranks, she did not strictly need them. To show comfort in her situation was fine, in this case.

"As expected, you have an eye for quality, Lord Iskandar," the regent praised before calling out to the dancer with an airy wave. "Wisteria, dear; if you'd be so kind as to accompany us..."