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* Plot Information for Little Terreille

A naive Black Jeweled witch has destroyed the Territory Court. From its ashes a new court is being constructed, one run by a manipulative killer. As the blood runs in the streets of Goth from open gang warfare, the Steward of Little Terreille begins a gambit to rebuild the Territory from the ground up and challenge the Star of Kaeleer.
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Author Topic: I’ll Put my Armor on Show you how Strong I am  (Read 686 times)

Description: 193, Spring: The Greyling’s Muse is full of surprises! Attn: Breck

Offline Amerys Tiernan

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I’ll Put my Armor on Show you how Strong I am
« on: Jul 08, 18, 06:05:21 PM »
193, Spring: Greyling’s Muse
This thread follows Heedful Caucus, Equivalent Notions, Allies and Allemandes and It’s Never the Right Time.
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The Carriage rolled to a stop outside of an elegant, understated establishment. Amerys was a Little Terreille native, and a had fine understanding of the differences between a brothel (in which those who worked there were victims), a bawdy house (in which those who worked there had some say in their assignments, if not full), an establishment (in which those who worked there were artisans with full right of refusal, under the protection of the owner or manager), and a proper Red Moon House (in which the right of refusal would not even be questioned for it was full in accord with Territory Law, Blood Law and Protocol.

Little Terreille was a long way from a proper Blood Moon House, if only because her people were too used to the ways of the gangs. Greyling’s Muse, undoubtedly, was one of the finest establishments Amerys had ever heard of. It offered an escape from the streets and the gangs, and no one at all doubted Algernon Breckenridge’s ability to protect his people.

That was one reason he was such an effective Master of the Guard.

Amerys alighted from her coach, and waited to be ushered into Breck’s domain. She had no doubt that a number of battle of wills lay ahead, yet she was at least as curious about what the place would teach her of Breck as anything else. It was all part of her odd, stop-and-start healing process, and one Breck was absolutely convinced touched upon her relationships to her Bonded and to her roll as Queen.

If nothing else, if promised to be fun. And in truth, Amerys was desperately in need of some fun. Due to her Triangle’s exaggerated response to her flirtations or overtures, and the disastrous fallout there of, Amerys had been living quite tightly wound, of late. Those pain-filled missteps left her wary, in a general sense, of anything sensual; she did not like being the cause of pain. It left her uneasy, here; not for her own sake but with the knowledge a simple mis-spoken phrase could infuriate or harm. The weight and weariness of measuring every inflection, every gesture, even with her nearest and dearest, was exhausting.

Hayden, though, seemed to accept Amerys for what she was! Dax, of course, was Dax - slightly put out that she was no longer free to go watch over his rowdy bar room brawls, but otherwise unperturbed by her rise in station. Davos, too, seemed comfortable with the ideal of her. If this place could help Amerys mend those otheer relationships that were bent out of true, it would be worth the subtle anxiety and tension that vibrated through her. Amerys smoothed her elegant pink gown, fussing to be certain not a single piece of embroidery was folded over, or caught upon anything. Breck adored clothes as works of art, and so she’d chosen a gown that would honor both him, and Greyling’s Muse. Positively yards of fabric swirled around her, and it was all Amerys could do not to twirl in place a few times, just to delight in how the gown moved.

Offline Algernon Breckenridge

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Re: I’ll Put my Armor on Show you how Strong I am
« Reply #1 on: Feb 11, 19, 12:16:20 PM »
Please, please, please, don't go. Oooh, yeah, I love you so!

At the time that the Queen of Little Terreille was, unfortunately, seeking him at Greyling's, the entrepreneur turned Master of the Guard (there were days that Algernon himself chuckled at the thought) was stuck under a pile of paperwork. The Port Authority with all of its family ties throughout Goth, not to mention all of Little Terreille was really starting to make Breck develop something of an eye twitch. Normally, he wasn't one to smoke save for special occasions, like the birth of someone's child or what have you. There was still smuggling, and he hadn't found it all. But he would. Having had that very thing once been something he was very good at, hiding his activities with almost perfection from the authorities, he would find them. All of them. If they didn't stop, then he'd ensure the Territory Court would get its cut of e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. They'd begin to get damned sick of hearing that Algernon Breckenridge was watching, eventually, as unlike a lot of people, he had so much time on his hands.

Said paperwork was strewn across the huge bed he sat in the middle of looking every inch the sated Prince he was. She hadn't been the one he wanted, not in the least, and even after a long skin scalding hot shower, Breck was still extremely jumpy. Amerys therefore, he reasoned, was bound to figure out his little problem and he couldn't have that. Self-deprecation rippled through his mind. This is what you get, idiot. You deserve every bit of this, said that part of himself that he kept hard on lock. The one that was once perfectly willing to con a bitch and take every last sweet mark she had. As such, the cigar had been lit while he'd laid shields on everything that could possibly absorb said smoke in the room. His eyes were more gold than blue then, seeming molten in a hard planed face that was far less patient. Having been shielded also to avoid dropping ash on anything, he set the cigar aside, putting it out with a light touch of his Opal Jewel.

"Are you done?" He growled the three words while signing his name in a flourish upon a yet another page. He knew the Port Authority, despite his unplanned 'visit' there some time ago was still involved in smuggling. Just then, he felt like blowing the whole series of offices and warehouses off the map. Breck watched the woman's hips like a drowning man, a muscle in his jawline twitching quickly while he fought not to bare his teeth. An hour and twenty minutes ago, he'd fucked the Courtesan near senseless, who was still dressing as though she had all the time in the world, and was still in his space. He wanted her to leave. No, really, he needed her. to. get. her. bitch. ass. out. of. his. space, if they weren't going to fuck again. His eyes closed slowly while the elegant nostrils flared; Breck took slow breaths. It had been quite a while since he'd had to deal with this kind of thing, and pondered how far he'd have to go to not cause harm.

"Still getting dressed, as you can see ... Prince."

"And if I pay you another three hundred marks, will you stay?"

Slender brown fingers froze on a delicate stocking.

"I could do that."

He just needed to burn off the edge of it, then plan a trip very, very soon. Every bit the Prince, while some people would have swept the pile of pages off of the bed, Breck wasn't that kind of man even a little. He methodically, and quietly collected each form, arranging them precisely in order while his eyes roamed the body of the woman. Like him, she was half-Hayllian, though had gained much more of the brown skin than he had. His full lips pursed while he watched her, still stacking the pages. Once all near one hundred of them were in order, he collected the folder and settled them within it, sealing it with Sapphire Craft and vanishing the whole thing. With his Opal, he brushed a tendril of Seduction Craft near the Courtesan.

"Your permission, do I have it? Your consent?"

"Yes, you do, Prince." She nodded her head and loosed the curly black hair, easing back toward the head of the bed. With his left hand, Breck gripped her jawline, squeezing firmly before pulling her atop him with the hand moved to the back of her neck. Ripping off the bit of lace in his way as the witch gasped in shock, the coiled muscles in his biceps bunched as he started to move her in a way that would please them both. "Not ... so fast, ah! You're a little intense ..."

Breck laughed. "Don't worry. You'll be well tended, and compensated," he hissed against her ear and doubled the aural shields ... just in case. Comfortable with his masculinity, he sent a spear to spear thread to the Warlord that tended the Therapy, both in terms of massage, and actual Therapy in a building down the street from the Muse. Breck was also polite enough to leave the emotional sense of the thread completely empty, given his present activity, save for amusement, as the courtesan started to tremble. *Hargrave. There's a very important guest arriving soon for therapy arrangements. I was supposed to meet her, but I am ... presently tied up with a personal concern. Do you think you can handle seeing to the Queen of Little Terreille?*

*I ... sure. You know I am not Bonded, right?*

*You'll be fine even if it happens, but you're a Warlord, which is rarer as things go. You'll be doing me a solid, and Lady Tiernan needs to meet you anyway. I'll make sure the Lady Fairuz joins the two of you.*

*That makes me much more comfortable since she runs things here now.*

*Good, good.*

The spear to spear thread cut out neatly, then he sighed because Fairuz was foreeeeeever being a bitch and of the people on staff, she'd been the one to notice when he was wound up and never, ever lessened the bite of her tongue. He initiated the spear to distaff thread much more gently. *Fairuz?*

*Did you fuck someone yet, loser?*

This was why he and the Hearth Witch had never gone at least one round, and they never ever would. His cock immediately grew a little less hard. Thankfully, the woman didn't notice as she was clamped down on his dick like it was white on rice just then, with her pretty face tilted back in absolute pleasure. He almost felt bad for tending to business while ... tending to business, but it was what it was.

*Yes, bitch, I did. I need a favour.*

*The one and only, and don't you forget it.*

Breck bit back a laugh.

*I won't. Queen's coming to visit. Can you help Kallias be good to her?*

*You know I can, but what's in it for me, hoe bag?*

*I'll pay you a bonus, and she's amazing, but I'll let the woman speak for herself.*

*And why can't you do all this?* A long pause followed and the sense of satisfied laughter through the thread from the distaff side. *You're fucking now, aren't you?*

*And if I was?*

*She must be terrible if you can chat to me with business.*

*No, it is more precise that I am just that good, dear Madam.*

*All right. Fine. I'll tend the Lady.*

*Fairuz! No funny business.*

Only laughter was her response; so Breck sighed mentally and went back to the pleasurable activity at hand, even if it was more like maintenance for his temper.

Offline Kallias Hargrave

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Re: I’ll Put my Armor on Show you how Strong I am
« Reply #2 on: Feb 11, 19, 01:57:07 PM »
Wait, madame,
I will tell you in two words, who I am, what I do, and how I live. May I? Who am I? I am a poet ...



Kallias Aureliano Hargrave, Therapist
If things had been different, and his mother had been perhaps only half Dhemlanese, and a citizen of Dharo, he would still be there, taking up his father's title as the Duke of Rochester. But she had not been and was not, and thus was left with the money split with the Lady Elisabeth Carlisle, his short-lived sister, who he'd had an excellent tea with last week. While it was true that technically speaking any grandchildren or children he fathered or were descended from him would have an eligibility to reinstate the Dukedom of Rochester, that would require him returning to Dharo, and living there for at least five years before submitting to taking a wife chosen for him. Kallias, while he loved women, hadn't the slightest interest at this particular point in returning to his father's homeland. Time after all, was on his side.

Instead, he'd studied enough therapy, both physical and mental for the concerns people had that could be tended without the use of Craft, but the simple approach of listening to a person, and letting them be heard. His interest in the subject had been spawned by a Landen acquaintance, and he'd gone from there with his studies of the subject. The number of Blood that suffered from depression alone that were more likely to resist the Craft of a Black Widow and harm themselves did very well as patients with him in his office, before having Mind Healing performed tended to heal 94% better than they might have without.

Typically, Kallias served as a grief and trauma counsellor; he'd held more widowed women's hands than most any man had a right to. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he smoothed the grey suit coat and black shirt he wore, and re-tied the hair he wore to his waist in a long braid. Those concerns were dealt with two buildings over from the Greyling's Muse, while at the Muse he tended to Massage for both physical therapy and sensual therapy. He'd overseen perhaps a total of five Virgin Nights this year alone for ladies that were Lighter Jewelled than himself, and rather enjoyed the few parties the Aristocratic sorts of Little Terreille when invited - being the son of a former Duke of Dharo opened doors that otherwise, might be closed to him. While the upper echelons of that sort of society hadn't interested him in particular, Kallias did like to be well dressed. He respected Algernon Breckenridge, who was less employer now than a colleague as he'd mostly moved on from the Greyling's Muse with its excellent bookstore and excellent near-Red Moon House below.

Fairuz had been pushing to turn Greyling's into a proper Red Moon House, he knew, while Breck resisted because he didn't like change, and would have to finance a complete remodel despite how elegant the place was, as it was closer to a ladies and gentlemen's club by appearance and offerings. He'd rolled his shoulders, both apprehensive and annoyed after talking with Breck, but also intrigued. Sending word to the front staff to send the Queen's Carriage around to the back entrance for a little more privacy, he waited until her escorts opened the door, clearing his throat and folding white-gloved hands at his back. He wrapped a neat sight and aural shield around the space from the carriage to the door so that no one would be able to see who was entering unless they probed. The Queen would be able to see beyond it, as would her escorts, but no one Lighter Jewelled than an Opal would be able to see beyond.

As such, the street sounds ebbed away, while with Craft, Kallias opened the double polished black wooden doors just beyond where he stood. Waiting until the lady was assisted to step down had him wrapped in a controlled nervousness. Once he saw her face, everything in him relaxed, but there was an odd feeling of disappointment when he noted he wasn't hers. She was pretty, seemed about six times as anxious as he was, and moved with a fair amount of trained poise despite her youth. "Welcome to Greyling's Muse. Lady Tiernan, I am Lord Kallias Hargrave, the Massage Therapist on staff, as well as General Therapist standing in for Algernon Breckenridge." He swept a tight bow; the black coil of braid sliding over his shoulder before he brushed it back with the flick of a shoulder.

"He's asked me to inform you that some personal concerns have drawn him away for a time, but he'll join us later. Lady Fairuz will meet us inside once you're settled in a private room. I am willing to Escort you officially, but you are in no way required to touch me at this time, if your comfort level is not assured," He smiled, patient and calm, offering an arm if she wanted an Escort officially, but neither did Kallias allow the impression that he would force the Queen to touch him if she was particular with doing so for those she did not know well. Every Queen was different, he knew, and this one had quite a lot of weight upon her shoulders as he understood it. Kallias offered observation with compassion and complete ease. Indeed, it seemed he could have waited there for the lady until she'd completed an entire seven courses meal if that was what she might want. Moreover, if she needed it, he was more than capable of defending her personal safety. He was not especially tall, but perhaps just tall enough at six foot one, while his psychic scent was just clean and fresh, offering no specific tang or sweetness, and empty of anything bothersome. It was unusual and very much so, but perhaps in a good way.

Offline Amerys Tiernan

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Re: I’ll Put my Armor on Show you how Strong I am
« Reply #3 on: Apr 12, 19, 02:12:29 AM »
193, Spring: Greyling’s Muse
This thread follows Heedful Caucus, Equivalent Notions, Allies and Allemandes and It’s Never the Right Time.

A pool of quiet seemed to form around the Carriage as the doors wafted open. Warlord Djar Liaman handed her out of the carriage with flourish. He usually transported her, whether she was traveling in a normal carriage or one designed to ride the Winds. He timed a wink with his bow, and Amerys twinkled at his delight in being here. She had no doubt he was looking forward to spending a few hours enjoying the establishment, and it lightened her heart that this was so. But his fun, of course, would have to wait until he formally handed over the duty of Escort to Breck.

Amerys rested her hand lightly upon the Warlord’s arm, and the pair drifted forward through that perfectly crafted tunnel of peace and quiet. It was a such a thoughtful gesture that it both touched and surprised her. As the end of the tunnel of peace stood a striking man. The elegant dark skin and night-black braid of hair suggested he might be part long-lived. What she didn’t see was any sign of her Master of the Guard. Her hand tightened upon Djar’s arm, and her smile died a sudden death at the news that Breck wasn’t even here.

The graceful courtesy was responded to with the ease of long practice, her Protocol as she both responded to his greeting so precise as to nearly shout her other-wise concealed dismay. He’d phrased the information that Breck wasn’t here so neatly that she was prevented from simply turning around and going home.

And never, ever coming back.

“Lord Hargrave,” Amerys lifted her chin, a pained pride in the gesture.

“This is my Escort, Warlord Djar Liamar.” All the fun had drained out of the evening; now it was a lesson. It was politics and compromise and what is best for Little Terrielle. She had so wanted to be just Amerys, for a while. A moment more she stared, before turning her attention to her tense guardsman.

“It seems we are outmaneuvered,” A smile and ironic lifting of an eyebrow eased Djar’s tension, if not her own, then her gaze returned to her host. Who was a handsome, beautiful dressed, a complete and total stranger, and a male besides! And Beck had promised to be here. She was mortified, embarrassed on a number of levels.

So she evoked her ability to Emotion Shield, and then summoned the mental discipline that helped her to find her center. Between one heart-beat and the next, the young lady before him transformed from the rather anxious and trusting Amerys, here to meet her friend, to the Queen of Little Terrielle. It was accomplished through a rather brutal suppression of emotion, but it was part of the arsenal that had let her survive her abrupt and blood-soaked ascent to power. Her own Psychic Scent, reminiscent of a silvery rain, vanished behind her Shields.

“Enjoy your evening, Djar. Anyone chosen as my Escort by Prince Breck,” and how Amerys hated calling the distinguished man by a diminutive in public! “Will be not only trustworthy, but already vetted by the Court.”

Amerys’ gaze was steady, her will implacable, as she stared at the young man who did in fact have the authority to overrule her where her safety was concerned. It took him longer than it had her, to work it all out, but she saw the sudden understanding, the softening of his posture. The Queen of Little Terrielle could not refuse Escort by Lord Hargrave without appearing to distrust her own Master of the Guard. An insult, at the best of times. Unforgivable, in front of Breck’s freinds, confidants and employees. That was a personal and political wound Amerys would never visit upon Breck.

Djar gave her another graceful bow, and Amerys’ smile softened to something wistful. “Thank you, my lady.” The Warlord offered a second bow to Lord Hargrave, before fading back and formally relinquishing her protection to the stranger.

Only then did Amerys step towards Lord Hargrave, her gloved fingertips just resting upon his elegant sleeve. “I would enjoy a tour of the establishment, Lord Hargrave, and to learn a little about you. Prince Breck has spoken to me of Lady Fairuz, but your name is new to me.”

Offline Kallias Hargrave

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Re: I’ll Put my Armor on Show you how Strong I am
« Reply #4 on: Sep 01, 19, 02:31:54 AM »
Lord Kallias' smile and pleasant welcoming presence did not shift so much as an atom of spatial presence. It was less control than precision training and compassion for any lady in Lady Tiernan's social position. He was cautious not to indicate (yet) that the shift from a young woman to a young Ruling Queen in persona was one that he could see through without activation of Craft, but the experience of counselling so many through their most private pain.

Hargrave could also sense that the woman and Queen both were vastly lonely. In both a social and sensual fashion, which caused swift anger to rise in the Warlord, which he immediately tempered simply because he did not have the needed evidence of the situation to go charging in. Worth consideration as well, was that perhaps the Lady Tiernan might not desire his aid at all. Often, painful situations were made worse by a simple lack of communication, thoughtlessness and impulsivity. All of which were things that Kallias nearly never deigned to choose, with good reason.

That particular set of emotions hit him hard and almost caused Kallias to need to draw an extra breath. Instead of reacting, he received the Queen's apprehension with the aplomb of a gentleman of her own staff, were she to have chosen a man such as himself. It was not her fault that she had not been warned in advance, and he suspected just then that Lady Tiernan had not been told because the spectre of emotional flight hovered where he suspected she believed none could see it.

"I do not know at this juncture if the Prince will make an appearance later during the planned day or not, Lady Tiernan, but for your comfort, I will assuredly request that your preferences are known," he remarked smoothly in response to reassure.

"You do me a vast honour, Lady, in being willing to consider a male that you are unfamiliar with safe enough to guard your very life if so required. If it is a comfort to you, Lord Liamar may and should continue with us?" Being Queen did not mean joy could not be had, but for some reason, the Lady Tiernan seemed to believe this was the case. He wondered what pain she had beheld that caused her to believe that the world was not always at her feet, and hers to rule.

However, the question seemed resolved with the muted exchange between Lady Tiernan and Lord Djar Liamar, the latter of which stepped backward smoothly to allow the Queen to accept his aid. As such, Kallias only continued to smile and inclined his head. "Much as your Master of the Guard would have it, Lady, you need only initiate a request for anything you require. I had a thread communication from the Prince practically minutes prior to your arrival, if it helps handle the shock, which I am deeply sorrowed for. As I understand it, this outing was intended to be one of ease and relaxation for you, was it not?"

Once the Lady Tiernan moved closer, his pulse skipped slightly quicker. Lack of a Bond or otherwise, he liked what he saw and felt just slightly drawn in, the way all men were to a Queen.

"Please do not be sorrowed, that I am not yours, and thus it might mean to you a lack of personal trust. Perhaps such might mean that we have a rare opportunity where I require nothing from the Queen that she does not desire or ache to give?" The Craft around the carriage tightened just then, making it clear that the one that had ensured her complete and utter privacy had been Lord Hargrave himself.  He just hoped it was enough to allow the woman comfort from the disappointment of perceived expectation. Once they were in privacy, he vowed to explain his colleagues' absence.

Offline Amerys Tiernan

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Re: I’ll Put my Armor on Show you how Strong I am
« Reply #5 on: Oct 24, 19, 09:45:02 PM »
With a vast polish, the Lord Kallias Hardgrave remained composed and balanced, at least to the degree that Amerys could observe without prying. She considered his question, and his gentle acknowledgement of the odd position she was in. Her own smile softened from court-perfect, as he even invited Lord Liamar to remain with them. As much as she adored Liamar, he couldn’t protect her from her own promises. The fact that apparently Prince Breck had not told him the full reasons she was here was a small mercy, one deeply appreciated.

A warm mischievousness flared in her smile at the Lord’s subtle question as to what she was here for, tempered by a soft sorrow that echoed delicately in her gaze. “The dear Prince thinks I work too hard and don’t have enough friends.” The reference to Bonds drew a thoughtful look from the young Queen.

“I would have been honored and thrilled had Mother Night granted me the honor of Bonding you, yet it is not the only road to trust. That Prince Breck chose you to both protect me and ...” A graceful gesture indicated his powerful Craft, “to guard my honor, wins a great deal of respect and trust from me in turn.”

Amerys’ attention remained upon this unusual Warlord, as they headed inside. Weather he knew it or not, he had touched upon matters that were close to Amerys’ heart. She felt Breck’s tactical expertise in every exchange between them. There was something about Lord Hargrave,  something in the way he spoke of Queens, that drew Amerys’ ready curiosity to the fore.

“Is a kinswoman of yours of my Caste, Lord Hargrave?” She asked.

Offline Kallias Hargrave

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Re: I’ll Put my Armor on Show you how Strong I am
« Reply #6 on: Nov 04, 19, 06:52:14 AM »
Being balanced as best he could even in a moment of strife was important to Kallias. While no one was perfect and people made mistakes that included himself, he was always willing to offer the best and safely vulnerable part of himself to another person. He smiled a little further as the Queen's expression of delight shifted from the elegant political one she was required to give as she likely viewed it to something real and more deserving of her lovely face. The hint of sorrow in her face caused the Warlord to search her eyes with a gentle back and forth motion of his while pausing in heading toward the double doors of the entrance to Greyling's Muse. "No, it is not the only road to trust," the Warlord said evenly, in recognition of Lady Tiernan's worries while taking the extra care in his manner and speech not to dismiss her concerns just because he viewed the place he worked as safe.

In truth, her fears and worries, the Queen's anxiety as he had studied would have nothing directly to do with him as a man or even as an idea. It was only natural for a woman or man to question and wonder at what was unfamiliar to them. "I am one of the Emotional Therapists for the women and men that work for the Muse in its capacity as a nearly being a Red Moon House. I also run an office down the street, but primarily here I attend to sensual and massage therapies for those that have specific concerns," he continued. "I also have long studied grief counselling, as we are a very violent people." Kallias listened carefully to Lady Amerys as he began to walk forward with her slowly once the arrangements seemed to suit her; he had completely understood why the change in schedule that had seemed deeply sudden to her and very nearly an attack. Rather than the beautiful front doors, Kallias neatly steered the well-dressed Queen of Little Terreille to a side door.

"To avoid the onlookers and to offer privacy, we shall go through this door, Lady Tiernan," explained in even, very well-modulated tones. As a result, they ended up in a quiet hallway which was softly lit and decorated in deepened sapphire and silver as tastefully as possible. The pair did not walk long, and from there, Kallias turned left to a doorway that opened up upon a room intended both for a scheduled, professional dalliance as it was for lunch; the bedding space was closed off by a beautifully painted screen. The Warlord halted once they came to a plush couch earthen-toned that wrapped around a corner of a wall in the same warm blue. The table in front of the sitting area had a set of various drinks and finger foods. If Lady Tiernan desired it, Lord Hargrave offered himself to assist the Queen to sit but was equally willing to stand back with contentment for the lady to settle herself without his help. The choice was hers. He offered a bow.

"Shall I serve you? There is water, wine, coffee, and a few kinds of tea."

 

 

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