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Jorah openly winced when Clarissa kicked him, but even his new bruise couldn’t dampen his spirits – especially because his friend’s simmering anger did wonders to balance out the anxious sea of discomfort lapping at the edges of his psyche, courtesy of all the nervous nellies in the room. Now of course, it wasn’t on purpose; he’d never take advantage of Clarissa like that, he preferred to bother her for his own entertainment. But it was a happy accident all the same.

In contrast to the lacklustre attention he’d been paying for most of the morning, Jorah listened closely to the introductions of his peers, eager to finally drink in some new faces. After Clarissa was Auberon, who reminded Jorah of a stained glass saint, both in form and in manner. But as opposed to the many straight and narrow nobles he could name (his father chief among them) Auberon carried a comforting air of sincerity that endeared him to Jorah more than he’d expect of one of his ilk. In an intriguing contrast, Lienna held herself just as stiffly, if not more so, but a coldness rolled off her that Jorah might have compared to the shrewder Lords of the Roundtable if it wasn’t seasoned so strongly with fear. 

Widolaic was much bubblier than she looked like she should have been – Jorah couldn’t tell if he was letting the stories from Adrestia get the better of him or if shifty faces just ran in the the Vestra family – and Kellen’s introduction made Jorah wish he could go again, if only to recover from the secondhand embarrassment the little lordling inspired. Apparently Nathanael took pity on the boy and went next, and Jorah commended him for choking back his simmering disdain for the sake of another. 

Rounding off the group was Adelaide, the third and final House Leader, who felt like what he initially expected from Auberon: superior, calculating, and utterly secure, like a mountain lion sizing up her prey. He’d met many of her ilk before, and had great fun antagonizing them – she’d be no different. Finally, Isolde’s introduction was almost as painful as the waves of anxiety wafting off her like acrid smoke, and Derec was… fine. His little twinge of nervousness was probably attributable to public speaking, but who could blame him? Unlike Jorah, not everyone was a natural entertainer. But he could learn. Starting tonight!

Head back in his party, Jorah was ready to continue his preparations when the uglier Professor Kalonic’s dismissal was rudely circumvented by Professor Tall Guy’s insistence that they missed somebody. Jorah followed his gesture with naked incredulity to find, with some difficulty, a shadow of a boy at the other end of it, rivaling Isolde in insecurity and dread. What a weird kid. He was deeply uninteresting, but because of that, also intriguing – he seemed to blend into the very walls, both visually and emotionally. It took a great effort to pinpoint his aura, and even then, Jorah struggled to tell where his vague discomfort ended and the general vibe of the room began. It reminded Jorah of reading a dry old tome, eyes roving over the same sentence ten times before he finally nodded off at his desk. That was hardly worth keeping him from his party!

Another thing keeping him from his party was Professor Euphemia’s invitation to stay after dismissal, but his chafing under the bonds of House Leadership was considerably soothed by the comeliness of his captor. Out of respect, Jorah paid careful attention to the professor as she delivered her address – and even heard a few of her words, too. Reports, chores, meetings with the other Leaders, it all sounded like stuff that could be half-assed easily enough. Or, more likely, put off until Clarissa finally surrendered to doing it for him. That would be even better – she’d do a better job anyway. 

The only question Jorah could come up with was “How do I get more acquainted with Priscilla?” but even he feared the wrath of a jealous Clarissa enough to keep his tongue in his head until the professor departed. But even those few minutes of professionalism wore him ragged, and as soon as Euphemia was gone, he was back to his old self again. 

[color=FFAB66]“Galatea, that’s that family that broke off from House Daphnel, right? We’re practically cousins!”[/color] he exclaimed by way of greeting, standing on his toes to clap a friendly arm around the shoulders of his taller Blue Lion friend. [color=FFAB66]“So then, cousin, can I count on you to mobilize the Lions at my party this evening? I know our fair companion will do her part to get those inter-house relations rolling.”[/color] He punctuated his words with a suggestive wink at the Adrestian princess, but otherwise focused his attention on Abraham. Augustine? Whoever – he’d have time to get to know him at the party.

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