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[center][h3][color=8493ca]Court Mage and Advisor Eirwen Blackthorne
Hathforth Castle, Throne Room, The Hearthfire Gala[/color]
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[@Estylwen][@Donut Look Now]

Eirwen, as was typical of him these days, was not in a particularly good mood; the balls had been entertaining for his first few months in the court, but after experiencing them in what seemed like an endless loop, they ranged from boring to sheer annoyances. His weariness of the whole affair did not mean he could slack off in terms of his presence, however. No, as always, he must be regal, beautiful, elegant, [i]cold.[/i] It was a delicate balance he had perfected, to make himself alluring enough to catch eyes and distant enough to keep his secrets. 

He expected he'd be asked to perform a Snowfall again today. Sometimes he regretted ever revealing he knew that spell. 

He'd chosen the most extravagant of robes for this gala, outshone only by the Queen herself - for of course, he'd never dare to outshine [i]her.[/i] Black satin and silver embroidery in the shape of winding vines made up his garments, ending in short train that ghosted the floors in his wake; his dark hair was lined with strings of silver and pearls, and at his breast lay the pin that subdued his tumultuous emotions down to a bearable simmer. He already wielded his own goblet of Gold-touch Wine, craving the pleasant hum that would make this evening a little more bearable. Heels clicked against the floor as he approached the throne and the three gathered there - the Queen, Vullian, and Lord Rhinecliff.

[i][color=8882be]What a dangerous combination.[/color][/i]

It would be rude to interrupt, even if it was technically within his rights as an advisor. But no, he had manners, or was at least good at pretending he did, and so he stood a short distance to the side. A brief nod of acknowledgement would be given if any of them were to look his way, but unless called over by the Queen in person, he'd be content to wait his turn to speak. In the meantime, his gaze cast over the throne room with a critical eye, taking note of every face present - and perhaps more importantly, every face absent. 

He would remember them all.