[center][color=Black][h1][b]C[/b]aterina [b]M[/b]eitelde [b]G[/b]rochain[/h1][/color] [IMG]http://i61.tinypic.com/5pk5s9.png[/IMG][/center] [hr] Caterina sat at the table patiently, waiting for anything to happen. She was looking at the main stage at the center of the large hall, which had a man talking loudly getting people's attention. Then a small amount of smoke appeared, strangely enough, causing some of the ladies to yell out in fear as other men gripped their swords momentarily. All calmed down again when the smoke cleared and revealed a woman, that Caterina recognised as the traveller woman that had told her 'future' earlier. The moment of recognition caused her to inch forwards in her seat, looking closely at the woman. She danced strangely, in a way unknown to the court. As such many women looked away, but it was mainly the men that seemed to enjoy the dancing. A short glance at her father revealed to Caterina that he, too, was watching closely. Queen Anne, Caterina's mother was also watching, although doubts could be placed on her interests. Atleast father wasn't gawking - the woman was pretty, so mother would surely excuse him. No doubt she felt some attraction to the woman too. Caterina glanced back, and noticed the woman was now laying down. It was getting a bit too much for her, so she got up and walked away to the right, behind the many tables and seats, looking around for someone interesting to talk to. Sure enough, she noticed Terryn ahead of her, aproximately twenty meters alongside the side of the hall, standing near a pillar. She was headed for him, but got distracted by a man that looked like a Black Shield soldier, and a lady that resembled a lady-in-waiting, or perhaps even a noblewoman. She had a face that Caterina had never seen before. Being a princess meant, to Caterina, you could talk to any person you wanted to. And as such she stepped right up to the two people, stopping behind them with a cheerful [b]“Hello,”[/b] in her high pitched feminine voice. She would wave lightly at the two of them, smiling widely at them, before continueing her introduction. [b]“I'm princess Caterina Meitelde Grochain, the daughter of king Gregar and queen Anne.”[/b] she'd say with remarkable ease in her voice, as if she was having no trouble with it that she was the princess. It also didn't seem to sound like she thought it was anything special, when in reality it was probably something special to the both of these people. Caterina would look at Sara, and then Saewine. Her face was one of wonderment, wondering why there was a guard nearly sleeping on the table, and a lady-in-waiting talking to him. [b]“... and.. you are?”[/b] she said, slowly, to ask about their names, and who they are. [b]“'tis not often I see a Black Shield sleeping on duty. Surely.. my father would not be appreciative of that.”[/b] she said, with a slight smile, though subtle at first. [b]“Neither Terryn. Actually, he's a good friend of mine! I should call him over, to discipline you.”[/b] She would wait a moment to see the reaction of both the lady and the soldier, before smirking subtly again and smiling at Saewine. [b]“I'm kidding. It's tiresome, these feasts, so I know how you feel. I think this is my third feast this month..”[/b] she said, crossing her arms and looking around in a bored manner. She was remarkably nonchalant for a princess, definetely a different brand of princess compared to her sisters, though the eldest was definetely just as cheerful as Caterina was. Once she was done looking around she'd look back to Sara, noting how beautiful her dress was compared to hers. Suddenly, Caterina felt underdressed, although that was through no fault of Sara. [b]“Oh, what a nice dress! Who made this? Was it the tailor in Coedwin? They have the nicest fabric there!”[/b] she said, although any other woman would frown at Coedwin's fabric, since it was rough and thick, not suited for feasts like these where it would get very hot very quickly. It also looked more like something a soldier would wear. But that perfectly suited Caterina, who was always more interested in the martial parts of royal life than the feasts. Something her father didn't always appreciate, but managed to cope with as long as Caterina did as she was supposed to. Caterina would bend over swiftly to feel the fabric, holding it between her fingers gently to not disturb the dress too much. The colour was definetely nice according to Caterina, but the fabric was a bit too flowy and thin for her liking - something she often struggled with. [b]“Hmm, I'm sure my sister Aren would love this dress!”[/b] she said, before looking over to Aren who was sitting at the royal table, enjoying the festivities and entertainment on the center stage, along with her husband. Erica was still sitting alone at this point, looking at the doorway to the feasting hall in a focussed manner. Hm.. so she was truly waiting for that knight. Would father improve? The slight distraction gave Sara and Saewine time to talk to eachother or Caterina for a few seconds before a large, muscular hand with a large silver ring with a Monarchist cross got put on Caterina's shoulder. [hr] [color=black][center][h1][b]T[/b]erryn [b]H[/b]offmann[/h1][/center][/color] [center][IMG]http://i59.tinypic.com/2eo8tna.png[/IMG][/center] [center][color=black]“Virtus Juvat Fideles”[/color][/center] [hr] Terryn couldn't help but scoff at Warren's remark - and here he was thinking that Warren was smart. The guy may have been right about Caterina, but if he really expected Terryn to stand idly by when Caterina was threatened he should think again. Terryn was more likely to throw away his life for Caterina than for Dorran, for that matter, but that was something that Terryn wouldn't want to voice so publicly. He might be a liked person in court, there were plenty of figures that hated him for being chosen as commander, instead of their son, or they themselves. It would be best to simply shut up and nod at Warren for now. [b]“Aye, I know, don't worry. Get back to your post.”[/b] he'd say, directing Warren back to his post. Atleast Warren had the sense to instruct others, although it really wasn't neccesary, and somewhat disrespectful, to order around a superior. He'd remember this for later, when giving them some talk or something. It'd definetely come up at some time, that much was sure. He glanced shortly at Dorran once Warren had dissapeared again, making sure to keep an eye on the people he was talking to. Sawarim assassins were everywhere, and over the years, they even mixed in with the Broacien people. Most of them posed as slave traders - the only accepted group of Sawarim faith followers in Broacien - but some also posed as Monarchist converts. Dorran seemed to be mostly fine, however, and it was now that more Black Shields also started arriving. No doubt had they been sent here by Nikolas, since it was obvious that the men were bored and that they had too many men outside, and not enough inside. Orders of the king however, overruled that. The only way around that was to simply send more men once they'd finished their rounds, and make the inside a part of that route anyway. Four more men walked inside, ones that Terryn didn't outright recognise himself, but they were obviously selected on their armor. They all wore some form of acceptable armor, most of them wearing partial plate, with cuir bouilli underneath. Another wore an aketon, but wielded a crossbow and had a small quiver of bolts on his right leg. It looked pretty intimidating, but it gave Terryn a good feeling to have someone with ranged capabilities behind him in case he needed it. Besides, a bolt would go through pretty much anything that would come into the hall with a weapon. However that feeling of safety was quickly making way for a feeling of annoyance when he glanced to his left, to check just what was going on around there. In that short moment of looking over there he had spotted Saewine sitting down with his head on the table, then getting up to speak to a lady that Terryn recognised as.. could it be? Sara? And then there was the princess approaching. Terryn let out a heavy sigh and stepped forwards towards the group of three, his footsteps going unnoticed in the loud noises of the room. He reached right up to the princess, standing behind her with a rather tall figure when compared to the princess, even more so since she was bending over to touch the fabric of Sara's dress. He slowly placed his hands on the small petite princess' shoulder, before speaking up. [b]“My princess,”[/b] he'd open, but not looking at her, but rather at Saewine. No doubt Sara had a role to play in this too. [b]“if I may be so free, Saewine here is supposed to be guarding your brother, Dorran. It's your father's orders, I'm afraid, so you'll have to come talk to him some other time.”[/b] His words were respectful, because of the princess' stature but also because of the company. If they hadn't been here, Saewine would've gotten an earful of swearing. Now, Saewine was expected to get back up and stand at attention, and shut his mouth while he was at it. Terryn wouldn't tolerate another slip up, especially from a nobleman like Saewine. It was hard to beat the entitledness of a noble out of them, and Saewine was proving to be more of a crybaby than a soldier. And if there was anything that Terryn hated.. it was [i]that.[/i] Bloody crybabies weren't good for more than fleeing battle and falling dead in a ditch a minute later. And if Terryn could help it, he was the one to strike them down. Retreats weren't allowed unless ordered, or a flank absolutely crumbled. Saewine..? No, he'd flee before he even saw the first clash of blades in front of him. [hr] It didn't take long for the next esteemed guest arrived. [url=http://pre15.deviantart.net/4c3f/th/pre/i/2015/161/9/e/warrior_by_daryaponyo-d8ws9jh.jpg]A young knight[/url] wearing a set of sturdy partial plate armor, adorned with a painting of the Monarchist cross on the front of the plate, in black. Behind him was a cape, a dark burgundy in color, with a black line at the bottom. As he entered, heads turned almost as much as they did when Dorran entered, although for a different reason entirely. His stride was self assured, almost arrogant, but he held himself well and shone out pride, both of himself and the uniform he wore. This was the knight that everyone had been waiting for - Servant of the Monarch [i]Gregar Jeremiah Bluewall[/i], preferred candidate for the title of Grandservant of the Monarch, and effectively one of the most influential knights within the Servants. He was also named after the king, which did him many favors with the king, and also meant he was a good candidate to marry with Erica, Caterina's unmarried older sister, the middle of the three sisters. He approached the royal table, gracefully, as Erica got up from her chair and walked around the table, down the steps to greet her 'friend'. She did a small curtsy, befitting her position as princess, and thus it wasn't too low. The young knight Jeremiah followed suit by grabbing her hand softly and bowing lightly, kissing it gently before releasing her again. After that, he escorted her back to her table, and took seat next to her, with Erica on his left, and Aren's husband on his right. He greeted Aren's husband shortly before focussing all his attention on the princess again, discussing matters of religion and war with the Sawarim followers with her. A few moments later Jeremiah would beckon Warren, who'd be the guard closest to him most likely, and thus asked him to get closer to the table. As soon as Warren would get close enough, Jeremiah would speak to him. [b]“Good man, be a friend and fetch me some mead. I hope you can understand that if Sawarim assassins show up, I wouldn't want to save my princess' life with a dry mouth.. or are [i]you[/i] going to protect me?”[/b] he'd say, with a slight grin, the obvious jab at Warren being intended more as a joke at his expense, but the princess laughed, so for Jeremiah it'd obviously pay off. Warren wouldn't have to worry about losing face, because after all nobody would recognise him in the Black Shields' uniform, but his honour might be harmed by being asked to deliver something as simple as mead. But dogs that bark at their owners are often treated badly. It was truly up to Warren what he'd do, but Jeremiah was quite a renowned swordsman, although obviously not as good as Warren in his younger years. But now.. who could tell?