[color=a1e4ee][h3][u][center]Kaelira Isrilen[/center][/u][/h3]
[sub][center]Sister-wife of Kalani Solle, Bride of Krone the Scream Taker[/center][/sub][/color]

Wait… she had another chance?

[color=a1e4ee]“Of course my lord, forgive my insolence, forgive my impertinence. I mean nothing by it.”[/color] she forced herself to swallow and take a breath. [color=a1e4ee]“I will do anything for you if you spare Ridian.”[/color]

She forced herself to stay by the man’s side as they made their way into the dining hall, forced herself to remain smiling demurely even as she sized up the people sitting next to them. Was that… a female Drakken? The Drakken glared at Kai, which didn’t faze the mule-headed Water gem.

Despite the warning look, Kai couldn’t help but stare. Female Drakkens were such a rarity; for the longest time she’d thought they were just a myth. Why else would the Drakkens take so many Gem girls?

It would have seemed to a bystander as though she had a death wish. She stood, on the pretense of reaching for the wine pitcher for Krone, but quickly dropped the pretense and straightened to her full (albeit small) height, intending to draw as much attention as she could.

She spoke quite loudly, enough that she could be heard by anyone who had a mind to listen, though her blue eyes focused intently on the Drakken female next to her.

[color=a1e4ee][b]“I’ve always wondered why it is that Drakken females tolerate their males taking wives from such a “lesser” race. Surely they know how impure the bloodlines of Drakka are becoming, thanks to the Gemminites. Maybe it’s just that the bitches are too ugly, and the males seek prettier stock? After all, a male’s only brain is in the head between his legs.”[/b][/color]

She blushed at her own vulgarity but kept her head high, blue eyes snapping, daring anyone to challenge her. Most of the hall would have heard her little speech… all she had to do was wait and watch the fireworks.
[hr]
[color=e3c5ee][h3][b][center]Astaelin Cassiel[/center][/b][/h3]
[sub][center]Sister-wife of Atallia Faeron, Bride of Edokaluriconus Nordiere[/center][/sub][/color]

Asta did not cry out when the man cauterized the wounds on her back; as a Fire gem she was used to inadvertently burning herself. She faced him, utterly expressionless, as he put the tattoo on her arm.

She put the dress on, though she cringed at how floofy the skirt was and how long it was. Hardly practical to run in. Still, though, at least she wouldn’t have to go naked.

[color=e3c5ee]”My name is Astaelin Cassiel. Perhaps you have heard of me?”[/color] she cracked a sly smile, looking over at the other Gem to see what effect her name might have. If the girl was in any way associated with the rebels, she was bound to know who Asta was.
[hr]
[color=a251bf][h3][i][center]Aymiria Cassiel[/center][/i][/h3]
[sub][center]Sister-wife of Amaryllis Stone; Bride of Zakroti Unalim[/center][/sub][/color]

Miry flinched at the sheer number of people as they walked into the banquet hall, instinctively pressing closer to Zakroti. In the back of her mind she knew to be afraid of him, but it was hard to be scared of someone who’d been nothing but kind to her.

Nervously she sat beside him, trying to hide her trembling. When he got up to go talk to someone, perhaps a friend? she took the opportunity to refill his wine glass.
One of his guards reached out so fast that Miry didn’t even see, until he grabbed her by the wrist and slammed her hand to the table, causing her to drop the pitcher.

“Just what do you think you’re doing? You wouldn’t be trying to poison your husband, not when he’s been so nice to you, now would you be?” The guard held her wrist with such force that she could feel the bones creaking.

[color=a251bf]“N-n-no, s-s-sir! I j-j-just m-m-meant, I j-j-just-t m-meant to d-d-do s-something n-nice for h-him, I s-swear I m-meant n-n-no h-harm!”[/color] the girl babbled, tears streaming down her face as she tried to tug her hand away. Some of the people in the room looked sharply at the spectacle.

The guard held the cup up to the light and smelled it, then held the cup out to Miry. “Prove it, then.”

[color=a251bf]“I d-d-don’t… I d-d-don’t d-drink w-wine, t-though…”[/color]

“That’s too bad. Drink at least a sip.”

[color=a251bf]“O-o-ok-kay…”[/color] nervously she sipped from the cup, wrinkling her nose at the taste. When a full minute went by and she was totally alright, the guard shrugged, wiped the edge of the glass, and put it back on Zakroti’s place.

“If you played a trick, your whole family will regret it.” The guard said, finally letting go of Miry’s wrist. She snatched her hand back, rubbing at the bruise that was already forming, and sniffling quietly, blushing crimson at the embarrassment.

[color=a251bf]“I-it w-w-was just a m-m-misu-underst-tanding…”[/color] she mumbled.