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[center][h3][color=8493ca]Court Mage and Advisor Eirwen Blackthorne
Athroyeaux Castle, Throne Room[/color]
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[@Estylwen][@Izurich]

A chill ran down Eirwen's spine at the sight of that ghost blade. He would be pressed, soon, to make a choice, and he could play one role or another; which would afford him more days to live? Should he refuse, given all he'd heard and witnessed, he would not put it past this king to merely clean up the mess that was himself here and now.

Eirwen had his goals, true, but he also wanted to live.

[i]"Do you accept?"[/i]

His gaze slid towards Melisande as she nominated the human duke to receive the blade. [i]Either way the wind turns, he is likely the ideal choice. A wise move.[/i] He had no grand ideas of wielding it himself, to be certain. Not only because he did not fancy playing a hero, but also because it would be a danger to himself and his apprentice should this thing be brought back to court where it might be found and questioned. Though the Duke, too, seemed hesitant. For now, Eirwen would behave as normal, standing silent until the attentions of those above forced him to speak. 

Truthfully, he did not intend to make his final choice today, as much as they might press him. He would say what was needed to remain amongst the living and proceed from there. The real choice could be made later, and he was not one to be rushed. 

[center][h3][color=8493ca]Hathforth Pier[/color]
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Eirwen was quiet, mind racing despite the blankness of his face. A gracious comment to the queen, another to Lord Urimyar - until that one burning question stopped his thoughts and, as it seemed for a moment, his heart. He opened his mouth, to speak, to weave a tale, yet Melisande beat him to it. How strange, when lately she had seemed eager to place the responsibility of such things on himself.

And then she sold him out.

Had the the capability to feel at that moment, he was sure he would have experienced a great storm of emotion. Wrath, shock, fear. As it was, all he felt was a mild disappointment, everything else choked down by the seed as always. Likewise, the expression he directed at Melisande was one of the same - less like someone who had just been betrayed and more as if she'd just made a mistake on some unimportant assigned homework.

[color=8493ca]"Lady Tearmoon. I must admit I am gravely disappointed today. After the trust her Majesty and I have placed on you, an attempt to sow distrust amongst her court? And after I have invested so much already into your education."[/color] His voice was smooth, calm, confident. Then, to the tall one beside them, he continued. [color=8493ca]"The tale is true to an extent. We did, indeed, proceed to this ghostly court, in my intention to investigate. I had assumed my apprentice, in her wisdom, indeed understood my intent. Perhaps Tearmoon, beyond this young one, deserves more scrutiny. 'Tis often the elders that puppeteer the young."[/color] He tsked his tongue, shaking his head. Up until this point, he had intended to protect this apprentice of his; alas, now she had forced him into either accepting his own fall or weaving her own. [color=8493ca]"Regardless, though I'd hope my years of demonstrated loyalty would afford me some measure of trust, I am more than prepared to face the queen should she have questions regarding this incident."[/color]