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A Rose In The Wind: A Saga of the Halmae -- Updated June 19, 2014
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<blockquote data-quote="ellinor" data-source="post: 4756699" data-attributes="member: 14561"><p><strong>1x03</strong></p><p></p><p>The hall glittered with celebration. The crystal chandeliers sparkled, the parquet floors shone, and the marble balusters were positively reflective. A long table of hors d’oeuvres stood at one end of the hall, attended to by a bustling – yet nearly invisible – battalion of servants, and the punch bowl seemed always to be full. A string quartet played in the corner. <em>Anyone </em>who was <em>anyone </em>was there. In fact, a great many people were there who were not quite anyone, but who were just close enough to being someone that it would be unseemly to refuse them entrance. The di Raprezzis were gracious hosts, and all of Pol Henna knew it. </p><p></p><p>Dante and Giovanna di Raprezzi – Rose’s father and mother – presided over the event with grace. They were a striking couple, not only for their beauty, but also for their confidence. The di Raprezzi family’s trade relationships continued to bring them great wealth; their alliance with the di Vittanis (that is, Giovanna’s family) had given them great influence in the Pol Hennan council; and the di Raprezzi Academy for Arcane Studies, now in its fifteenth year of operation, attracted many of the best and most skilled sorcerous students from throughout the Peninsular Alliance and beyond. As the couple mingled through the crowd, a weasel wound its way about Giovanna’s gem-green dress and under her red hair, settling over her shoulders like a stole. If anyone thought it unusual – and few did – no one dared comment.</p><p></p><p>As Rose descended the stairway, Dante and Giovanna stopped to watch – Dante beaming with quiet pride, and Giovanna smiling with a gracious charm belied only by her restless, tired eyes. But if Rose shared any of her mother’s concern, her looks did not betray it. She was ready for what this night would bring. First, the gala. Then, whatever came next. </p><p></p><p>To the trained eye, Twiggy – standing several steps behind Rose – might have seemed slightly less sanguine. But then, anyone would seem less sanguine than Rose. And few eyes would be trained on Twiggy. Not when there was so much else going on.</p><p></p><p> ###</p><p></p><p>Tavi knew the minute Rose entered the ballroom. He always knew exactly where she was, like a sixth sense. Maybe it was a sort of sixth sense, given his sorcerous abilities. More likely, it had grown from the years of training, years of watching. Years of being ready.</p><p></p><p>He watched Rose kiss first their father, then their mother on the cheeks. <em>Mother’s going to kill us all if she catches us</em>, he thought. <em>Me especially, for letting Rose leave like this… Ah well.</em> He shrugged mentally. He was Rose’s protector, even if he was protecting her from their own mother. </p><p></p><p>“Good evening, Signor Tavi,” said a young lady, approaching Tavi from the side. </p><p></p><p>It was Bianca di Angiuli, the daughter of one of the di Raprezzi family’s key allies on the Pol Hennan council. “Good evening, Signora Bianca.”</p><p></p><p><span style="color: Magenta">Ooh! Ooh! A new person! Maybe she wants to dance!</span></p><p></p><p>She smiled, tipping her head coquettishly. “I couldn’t help but notice how handsomely you are dressed tonight, Signor Tavi.” </p><p></p><p>“Thank you.” Tavi kept an eye and a half on Rose. “You look lovely as well.”</p><p></p><p>“You’re too kind,” she replied, with a slight curtsy. “I would be honored,” she said, “and my father would be as well,” she added, “If Pol Henna’s most eligible bachelor would do me the honor of a dance.”</p><p></p><p>Tavi nodded distractedly. “Yes, a dance, certainly. A bit later? I will find you.” He wasn’t in a dancing mood, but politics and courtesy did have their demands.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: magenta">No, dance now! Dance now!</span> Phoebe flitted from one shoulder to another.</p><p></p><p><em>There’ll be plenty of time for dancing, Phoebe. Don’t worry.</em></p><p></p><p><span style="color: magenta">A busy night? YESS!</span></p><p></p><p>Tavi kissed Bianca’s hand lightly as she returned to the crowd.</p><p></p><p> ###</p><p></p><p>Mena scanned the hall, standing between Rose and the door, arms folded. In her Defiers’ regalia, she was one of the few visibly armed individuals in the room. But she was nearly always armed, and obviously dangerous even when she wasn’t. </p><p></p><p>She scanned the hall again. It was unlikely that anything . . . untoward was going to happen to Rose tonight. Not during the ball, anyway. Once they headed out, it was another story, but the ball should be relatively peaceful. </p><p></p><p>Of course, that kind of lax thinking tended to get people killed. </p><p></p><p>So she scanned the hall again.</p><p></p><p>As she did, she spotted Dame The Scourge moving towards her. The Scourge was the leader of Pol Henna’s order of the Defiers of the Wind, and someone you wouldn’t want to meet in a <em>well-lit</em> alley. </p><p></p><p>“Dame Searing,” The Scourge began, referring to Mena by her formal name, “I am pleased to observe your attentiveness.”</p><p></p><p>“The Evil Bitch’s deeds may find us at any moment.”</p><p></p><p>“We listen for her always,” The Scourge replied. “And even now, we have rooted out a nest of the Children of the Wind.”</p><p></p><p>“Progress.”</p><p></p><p>The Scourge nodded. “And what of your charge?”</p><p></p><p>Mena paused. “She is . . . extremely normal.”</p><p></p><p>The Scourge set her jaw. “And that is strange enough. I don’t know how you can stand it. Staying cooped up in a place like this instead of riding out with us to frustrate the works of the Harlot of the Air. You should be punishing evil, not . . . <em>teaching</em>.” She spat the word out like a curse.</p><p></p><p>Mena kept scanning the room. “Evil lurks in many places,” she said, “and must be fought on every front . . .” </p><p></p><p> ###</p><p></p><p>“Tavi!” </p><p></p><p>Rose was by the punch bowl, exchanging a whispered word with Twiggy, when Tavi heard a voice call his name.</p><p></p><p>After she pushed her way past several people, Tavi could see that the voice came from Francesca di Turrini. Her family was part of the “new money” voting bloc. </p><p></p><p>She crossed her arms. “Nice party.”</p><p></p><p>Tavi smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”</p><p></p><p>“We should get married.”</p><p></p><p>Tavi coughed politely. “Would . . . you like to dance?”</p><p></p><p>“No,” she replied. “Look, I don’t exactly swing your way, and you’ve got your own thing or whatever, but my mother has been on my back. So you and me, heir and a spare, and we’ll call it quits and I can get back to my life and you can get back to yours.”</p><p></p><p>Tavi pursed his lips. “I’ll . . . think about it. If you’ll excuse me…”</p><p></p><p>Tavi quickly made his way away from the scowling Francesca. <em>Midnight can’t come fast enough,</em> he thought.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: magenta">That’s what I say!</span></p><p></p><p>###</p><p></p><p>Savina stood near the wall, nursing a glass of punch. Arden stood behind her and to the side, in the shadow of a curtain.</p><p></p><p><em>Are they sure they meant to send me?</em> Savina thought. <em>Surely it’s a mistake. I know Rose said she wanted the most innocent among the Givers . . . but I’ve only just taken my orders! There’s so much I don’t know. How can I be the most . . . anything? And sneaking off like this? Against the wishes of Dona Giovanna di Raprezzi? If we get caught, we could get into trouble. To say nothing of all that travelling . . . I’ll have to make sure I pack a tent— </em></p><p></p><p>Her revery was disturbed by the approach of a older noble gentleman, his gray temples a stark contrast against his black outfit. He gave a distinguished nod. “Signora Savina.”</p><p></p><p>Savina curtsied, recognizing him as Vittorio di Avanzo, the leader of the largest minority Council faction . . . the faction that had been the majority until Dona Giovanna’s family had replaced them. “Signor Vittorio.”</p><p></p><p>“I would like to be the first to congratulate you,” he began, “on your sixteenth birthday.”</p><p></p><p>Savina blushed. “Yes, in one month . . . ”</p><p></p><p>“I need hardly point out that you will be of marriageable age that day. And that I, myself, am recently widowed . . .”</p><p></p><p>Savina’s eyes widened. “I . . . that is . . ."</p><p></p><p>”There is great benefit that might come of an alliance between our houses. Your family has remained neutral in the factional politics of the Council. A noble sentiment, I’m sure, but it has long kept you from the heights of power a family as distinguished as yours demands. But, with your family’s vote joined to our faction, we would have enough votes on the Council to—”</p><p></p><p>“My father is the politician,” she demurred. “I do not have experience in. . .”</p><p></p><p>Vittorio grasped Savina by the wrist. “I recommend you consult with your father, then,” he said, through clenched teeth. “Things in Pol Henna will change, I assure you, and when they do, friends will be remembered.”</p><p></p><p>He had barely time to hiss out the words before Arden approached, protectively. “Blessed Daughter? Forgive me, an urgent matter requires your attention.”</p><p></p><p>Vittorio did not even look to see who the voice came from. “My lady,” he said, “we are occupied.” </p><p></p><p>Arden lowered her head. “I beg your pardon, m’lord, but I am no lady.”</p><p></p><p>Vittorio turned in confusion, finally realizing it was a slave who had addressed him. He recoiled at discovering his inadvertent show of respect . . . but he did release Savina’s wrist. “Pray, speak with your father,” he whispered. “I will be in touch.” </p><p></p><p>A pair of dancers twirled by as he strode away.</p><p></p><p>Savina shuddered.</p><p></p><p> ###</p><p></p><p>Dame Mena was introducing Rose to one of the Harbingers when Vincente di Ginola, holding the hand of his 8-year old daughter Donatella, approached Tavi. Vincente gave a shallow bow. Donatella squirmed. </p><p></p><p>“Signor Tavi,” Vincente began, “I would like to discuss a subject of mutual interest.” A smile twitched on his lips.</p><p></p><p>Tavi nodded politely, as courtesy dictated. “Indeed, Signor Vincente. How may I help you?”</p><p></p><p>“It is common knowledge that while you have received several offers of marriage, your parents have so far declined to accept any of them. I understand that you and your family have certain . . . priorities in this area,” he continued, “and I believe that my Donatella may prove . . . attractive as a bride.”</p><p></p><p>Tavi blinked.</p><p></p><p>Vincente nudged his daughter. “Show him, Donnie.”</p><p></p><p>“Da<em>aaa</em>d!”</p><p></p><p>“<em>Just like we practiced,</em>” he hissed.</p><p></p><p>Donatella frowned, slumped her shoulders, and waved with her right hand. One, two, three, four, five little flames popped out from the tips of her fingers. </p><p></p><p>Vincente, beaming with pride, raised an eyebrow to Tavi. “Naturally, the wedding itself could be delayed.”</p><p></p><p>Tavi blinked. Then he blinked again. He blinked once more, just to be sure.</p><p></p><p>“As you know,” Tavi began, slowly, “as head of the family, my grandmother has the final word on the matter of my marriage. I’d have to consult with her—”</p><p></p><p>But a sudden commotion at the far end of the hall caught his attention. His eyes whipped first to Rose. Satisfied that she was perfectly safe, standing as she was within a few feet of Dame Mena, his eyes whipped back towards the commotion.</p><p></p><p>Jan Kormick had entered the room.</p><p></p><p>Dressed in the robes of a Justicar.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ellinor, post: 4756699, member: 14561"] [b]1x03[/b] The hall glittered with celebration. The crystal chandeliers sparkled, the parquet floors shone, and the marble balusters were positively reflective. A long table of hors d’oeuvres stood at one end of the hall, attended to by a bustling – yet nearly invisible – battalion of servants, and the punch bowl seemed always to be full. A string quartet played in the corner. [i]Anyone [/i]who was [i]anyone [/i]was there. In fact, a great many people were there who were not quite anyone, but who were just close enough to being someone that it would be unseemly to refuse them entrance. The di Raprezzis were gracious hosts, and all of Pol Henna knew it. Dante and Giovanna di Raprezzi – Rose’s father and mother – presided over the event with grace. They were a striking couple, not only for their beauty, but also for their confidence. The di Raprezzi family’s trade relationships continued to bring them great wealth; their alliance with the di Vittanis (that is, Giovanna’s family) had given them great influence in the Pol Hennan council; and the di Raprezzi Academy for Arcane Studies, now in its fifteenth year of operation, attracted many of the best and most skilled sorcerous students from throughout the Peninsular Alliance and beyond. As the couple mingled through the crowd, a weasel wound its way about Giovanna’s gem-green dress and under her red hair, settling over her shoulders like a stole. If anyone thought it unusual – and few did – no one dared comment. As Rose descended the stairway, Dante and Giovanna stopped to watch – Dante beaming with quiet pride, and Giovanna smiling with a gracious charm belied only by her restless, tired eyes. But if Rose shared any of her mother’s concern, her looks did not betray it. She was ready for what this night would bring. First, the gala. Then, whatever came next. To the trained eye, Twiggy – standing several steps behind Rose – might have seemed slightly less sanguine. But then, anyone would seem less sanguine than Rose. And few eyes would be trained on Twiggy. Not when there was so much else going on. ### Tavi knew the minute Rose entered the ballroom. He always knew exactly where she was, like a sixth sense. Maybe it was a sort of sixth sense, given his sorcerous abilities. More likely, it had grown from the years of training, years of watching. Years of being ready. He watched Rose kiss first their father, then their mother on the cheeks. [i]Mother’s going to kill us all if she catches us[/i], he thought. [i]Me especially, for letting Rose leave like this… Ah well.[/i] He shrugged mentally. He was Rose’s protector, even if he was protecting her from their own mother. “Good evening, Signor Tavi,” said a young lady, approaching Tavi from the side. It was Bianca di Angiuli, the daughter of one of the di Raprezzi family’s key allies on the Pol Hennan council. “Good evening, Signora Bianca.” [COLOR="Magenta"]Ooh! Ooh! A new person! Maybe she wants to dance![/COLOR] She smiled, tipping her head coquettishly. “I couldn’t help but notice how handsomely you are dressed tonight, Signor Tavi.” “Thank you.” Tavi kept an eye and a half on Rose. “You look lovely as well.” “You’re too kind,” she replied, with a slight curtsy. “I would be honored,” she said, “and my father would be as well,” she added, “If Pol Henna’s most eligible bachelor would do me the honor of a dance.” Tavi nodded distractedly. “Yes, a dance, certainly. A bit later? I will find you.” He wasn’t in a dancing mood, but politics and courtesy did have their demands. [COLOR="magenta"]No, dance now! Dance now![/COLOR] Phoebe flitted from one shoulder to another. [i]There’ll be plenty of time for dancing, Phoebe. Don’t worry.[/i] [COLOR="magenta"]A busy night? YESS![/COLOR] Tavi kissed Bianca’s hand lightly as she returned to the crowd. ### Mena scanned the hall, standing between Rose and the door, arms folded. In her Defiers’ regalia, she was one of the few visibly armed individuals in the room. But she was nearly always armed, and obviously dangerous even when she wasn’t. She scanned the hall again. It was unlikely that anything . . . untoward was going to happen to Rose tonight. Not during the ball, anyway. Once they headed out, it was another story, but the ball should be relatively peaceful. Of course, that kind of lax thinking tended to get people killed. So she scanned the hall again. As she did, she spotted Dame The Scourge moving towards her. The Scourge was the leader of Pol Henna’s order of the Defiers of the Wind, and someone you wouldn’t want to meet in a [i]well-lit[/i] alley. “Dame Searing,” The Scourge began, referring to Mena by her formal name, “I am pleased to observe your attentiveness.” “The Evil Bitch’s deeds may find us at any moment.” “We listen for her always,” The Scourge replied. “And even now, we have rooted out a nest of the Children of the Wind.” “Progress.” The Scourge nodded. “And what of your charge?” Mena paused. “She is . . . extremely normal.” The Scourge set her jaw. “And that is strange enough. I don’t know how you can stand it. Staying cooped up in a place like this instead of riding out with us to frustrate the works of the Harlot of the Air. You should be punishing evil, not . . . [i]teaching[/i].” She spat the word out like a curse. Mena kept scanning the room. “Evil lurks in many places,” she said, “and must be fought on every front . . .” ### “Tavi!” Rose was by the punch bowl, exchanging a whispered word with Twiggy, when Tavi heard a voice call his name. After she pushed her way past several people, Tavi could see that the voice came from Francesca di Turrini. Her family was part of the “new money” voting bloc. She crossed her arms. “Nice party.” Tavi smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” “We should get married.” Tavi coughed politely. “Would . . . you like to dance?” “No,” she replied. “Look, I don’t exactly swing your way, and you’ve got your own thing or whatever, but my mother has been on my back. So you and me, heir and a spare, and we’ll call it quits and I can get back to my life and you can get back to yours.” Tavi pursed his lips. “I’ll . . . think about it. If you’ll excuse me…” Tavi quickly made his way away from the scowling Francesca. [i]Midnight can’t come fast enough,[/i] he thought. [COLOR="magenta"]That’s what I say![/COLOR] ### Savina stood near the wall, nursing a glass of punch. Arden stood behind her and to the side, in the shadow of a curtain. [i]Are they sure they meant to send me?[/i] Savina thought. [i]Surely it’s a mistake. I know Rose said she wanted the most innocent among the Givers . . . but I’ve only just taken my orders! There’s so much I don’t know. How can I be the most . . . anything? And sneaking off like this? Against the wishes of Dona Giovanna di Raprezzi? If we get caught, we could get into trouble. To say nothing of all that travelling . . . I’ll have to make sure I pack a tent— [/i] Her revery was disturbed by the approach of a older noble gentleman, his gray temples a stark contrast against his black outfit. He gave a distinguished nod. “Signora Savina.” Savina curtsied, recognizing him as Vittorio di Avanzo, the leader of the largest minority Council faction . . . the faction that had been the majority until Dona Giovanna’s family had replaced them. “Signor Vittorio.” “I would like to be the first to congratulate you,” he began, “on your sixteenth birthday.” Savina blushed. “Yes, in one month . . . ” “I need hardly point out that you will be of marriageable age that day. And that I, myself, am recently widowed . . .” Savina’s eyes widened. “I . . . that is . . ." ”There is great benefit that might come of an alliance between our houses. Your family has remained neutral in the factional politics of the Council. A noble sentiment, I’m sure, but it has long kept you from the heights of power a family as distinguished as yours demands. But, with your family’s vote joined to our faction, we would have enough votes on the Council to—” “My father is the politician,” she demurred. “I do not have experience in. . .” Vittorio grasped Savina by the wrist. “I recommend you consult with your father, then,” he said, through clenched teeth. “Things in Pol Henna will change, I assure you, and when they do, friends will be remembered.” He had barely time to hiss out the words before Arden approached, protectively. “Blessed Daughter? Forgive me, an urgent matter requires your attention.” Vittorio did not even look to see who the voice came from. “My lady,” he said, “we are occupied.” Arden lowered her head. “I beg your pardon, m’lord, but I am no lady.” Vittorio turned in confusion, finally realizing it was a slave who had addressed him. He recoiled at discovering his inadvertent show of respect . . . but he did release Savina’s wrist. “Pray, speak with your father,” he whispered. “I will be in touch.” A pair of dancers twirled by as he strode away. Savina shuddered. ### Dame Mena was introducing Rose to one of the Harbingers when Vincente di Ginola, holding the hand of his 8-year old daughter Donatella, approached Tavi. Vincente gave a shallow bow. Donatella squirmed. “Signor Tavi,” Vincente began, “I would like to discuss a subject of mutual interest.” A smile twitched on his lips. Tavi nodded politely, as courtesy dictated. “Indeed, Signor Vincente. How may I help you?” “It is common knowledge that while you have received several offers of marriage, your parents have so far declined to accept any of them. I understand that you and your family have certain . . . priorities in this area,” he continued, “and I believe that my Donatella may prove . . . attractive as a bride.” Tavi blinked. Vincente nudged his daughter. “Show him, Donnie.” “Da[i]aaa[/i]d!” “[i]Just like we practiced,[/i]” he hissed. Donatella frowned, slumped her shoulders, and waved with her right hand. One, two, three, four, five little flames popped out from the tips of her fingers. Vincente, beaming with pride, raised an eyebrow to Tavi. “Naturally, the wedding itself could be delayed.” Tavi blinked. Then he blinked again. He blinked once more, just to be sure. “As you know,” Tavi began, slowly, “as head of the family, my grandmother has the final word on the matter of my marriage. I’d have to consult with her—” But a sudden commotion at the far end of the hall caught his attention. His eyes whipped first to Rose. Satisfied that she was perfectly safe, standing as she was within a few feet of Dame Mena, his eyes whipped back towards the commotion. Jan Kormick had entered the room. Dressed in the robes of a Justicar. [/QUOTE]
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A Rose In The Wind: A Saga of the Halmae -- Updated June 19, 2014
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