Fable - Ask Heed not the rabble

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Jiya Luana

The Head of House Luana
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The Montcroix Meridionalis Vineyard

Most of Arethil knew of Meridionalis wine. It came in a peculiarly shaped bottle with a delicate, almost swan-like neck that was said by those who made it to be one of many secrets for the wine's exquisite taste. It was the type of bottle one sent the butler to fetch for a special occasion such as a significant birthday, a wedding, or closing a particularly exciting business deal. What drove the desire and popularity of the wine up more was that every year the taste changed and only a certain number of bottles was produced.

Once that years wine was ready, the Montcroix family often held a selective, elite dinner party with guests from around the globe, giving them a chance to come and sample that years vintage before it went to market. And, of course, provide them with an opportunity to stock their own shelves before the rest of the population. An invite here was, for many, a status symbol and would pave the way for many open doors.

For others, it was simply a matter of routine.

Jiya Luana thought about how she had once envied her mother and father when they had received the signature black envelope the Montcroix family used, embossed with a golden seal in the shape of a harp. It had been as close to mysterious and exciting as her parents ever got, at least to the young girls mind. Her mother had never told her what the letters were, nor where she or her father would vanish to for a long weekend, leaving her in the charge of two older brothers who couldn't care less about their younger siblings activities. So when the black envelope had arrived with her name on it she had been seized with a giddy childlike excitement to finally discover what it meant.

"Another party," she sighed behind her fan as her eyes swept the room.

The Obanese favoured a much more elegant style of castle. Her butler had informed her over here they called them Chateaus. It certainly was not like any castle she had seen. There were none of the battlements and straight defensible walls of Anirian castles. Instead everything oozed elegance and beauty from the curves of the colours to the large windows that let in streams of the dying suns light. Outside there were carefully curated gardens and paths with none of the wild beauty of Cortos, and none of the homely charm of Elbion. It was.... very Obanese. Everything here was meant to be a subtle reminder of an owners wealth for here it was considered rude to so obviously flout ones status and privilege.

Like a Chateau doesn't?

Thankfully it seemed they would be spared a whole night of dancing. Most guests were being held in a large antechamber, though through into the large dining room Jiya spied servants rushing to and fro to finish off the dinner setting. As much as she didn't particularly like the company at these things, Jiya was looking forward to the wine tasting. Apparently the five new blends of the season would be served with the different courses at tonight's feast. And.... she supposed the company wasn't all that bad. There were some familiar faces, yes, which was only to be expected as the country's closest neighbours. But there were others too; people from the shores of Amol-Kalt to the wastes of the Tundra were gathered here. Anyone who was anyone. She should have felt privileged but really she felt out of her depth.
 
"Honestly, I haven't spoken with them for years." The lie slipped from her tongue with a natural ease. "Not since..."

Her lips pursed, as if in thought. "Well, shortly before Lottie turned sixteen. Almost half a decade ago now."

The man standing opposite her seemed to frown, though his lips were half hidden behind an outrageously large mustache. His clothes marked him as Obanese, and the questions he was asking were all obnoxiously pointed. Apparently he was part of the constabulary, or somehow related to it, and had the great misfortune of chasing after the errant daughters of the Montcroix family.

Daughters, whom were some of the few people Elise would call her friends.

"I assure you, Marshall..." She feigned ignorance of his name.

"Benegast."​

He said, a hint of annoyance in his tone. "If I had any contact with them, I would immediately divulge it. I'm no friend to criminals."

Which was, of course, another lie. Though she might not have agreed with their tactics, all three of the sisters were still dear to her heart. Blanche especially, and although she'd not heard from any of them in quite some time, she would have protected them in a heart beat if they asked.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Marshal Bengest." She got the name wrong on purpose. "I see someone who has the manners not to interrogate invited guests of the Montcroix family."

The man opened his mouth to speak, but Elise had already turned on her heel and began to walk away.
 
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Oraya sighed, the decorative fan open and covering half her face. The pinching of her lips behind the decorative material. Such an Obanese fashion - these fans. But the young noble of Urahil had to hand it to them. A subtle way to hide emotions. An entire art all with a simple tool.

Felix wasn't here, thank the stars.

But his stupid right-hand-man probably was.

Probably to keep an eye on her. Just another shadow meant to keep her in line. Keep tabs on her. An annoyance.

Glacial blues swept across the sea of faces, finally finding one she wanted to see. Slippered feet took her purposefully forward, her long gown sweeping behind her. "Jiji," arm would hook amicably into the other of her friend's. With a snap, she folded the fan and let it drop to her side.

"I was hoping to find you today. How're you holding up? Aside from recent politics, is Vel Anir as you once remembered it?"

Head turned as she caught the movement of the Barronness through the throng of people. She'd heard stories and rumors of the older girl growing up. And she'd be lying if she didn't say she wasn't scared.

Please, please don't come over here.

A silent quick prayer to the Goddess Ritz.

Jiya Luana Elise Virak
 
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