Time: 25th, Morning
Location: Edwards Estate
Attire: Officer’s Formal
Interactions: @princess Duke Edwards, Count and Countess Damian, @Lava Alckon Drake
Mentions: Duchess Edwards

Oooh, what a wonderful start to the day. “Who is this now?” Mm, yes. She decided to put that aside for now as Duke Gideon Edwards stepped in and greeted her with such warmth. Her positive impressions of him overrode whatever impression his wife moved to present. Perhaps the woman was stressed. Stratya was familiar with that feeling; she’d been a little particular yesterday, herself. She owed Riona a drink somewhere nicer. One where she might actually relax reliably. There was that one drinking ritual coming up. She and her squad liked to celebrate it as a way of remembering their hometowns. Perhaps she would invite Riona to it. Have a proper grieving.

Anyway! “Duke Edwarrds, I mus’ thank you f’r y’r council an’ advice. Constrruction is movin’ along smoothly, thanks tae yourr ‘elp.” She offered something between a curtsy and a bow. Tucked her left foot onto its toe, behind her right, and crossed her right arm over and bowed at the waist. As she straightened and met his gaze again, “attendin’ a parr’y on such lov'ly groun's is nae trouble.”

Flowers in mouth, check. Not that she didn't mean it, mind ye.

Drake appeared and Stratya could not have possibly missed ”they’re going to love us- you.” Mmm, mmhm. Mmhm. Mmhm. Of course, she vocalized nothing, deciding instead that it was good she brought booze. Maybe she’d dig into one of those - one loaf was gone already? W-wow..

“A blessed day, indeed, Lorr' Edwarrds. The Gods see you, I think.”

The young man of the party greeted her and Duke Vikena and Count and Countess Damian before scuttling off to the gates to greet incoming guests. Stratya turned her own attention to the Count and Countess. She still had things she’d rehearsed up her sleeve, “Coun’ Damian, yourr beau’iful esta’e is easily matched by y’ lovely wife. Coun-tess, you arre exquisi’, as always.”

Some of her servants she begrudgingly kept (she treats them very well, she's just not wholely comfortable with it yet) had overheard her rehearsals, to her dismay, and offered to help. Such sweet things.

They had their daughter with them? A devilish idea crept into her mind and, before she could stop herself, "Aah, 'oo is this, now~," she asked with interest and fascination, a stark contrast to a certain greeting she'd received just moments before. "I don't believe I've 'ad t' pleasure. Cap'n Stratya Durmand." In the same stroke as her introduction, she answered the rude greeting she'd received. Though, now she rather wanted to escape.

Mr. St. Claire awoke to the soft glow of dawn filtering through the heavy velvet drapes of his lavish Victorian-era suite. The golden rays kissed the intricate patterns on the ceiling, casting delicate shadows that danced upon the walls. His eyes, still heavy with sleep, fluttered open to the sight of the women around him, their forms draped lazily over the satin sheets. Each one lay in a state of blissful repose and relative undress, their skin glowing in the morning light as their breathing synchronized with the gentle rise and fall of Milo's chest.

A small, knowing smile played on his lips as he stretched, his muscles flexing beneath the warmth of the bedding. The sheets slipped off his body as he shifted, revealing the sculpted contours of his chest and abdomen, the result of years of meticulous care and discipline. The women stirred slightly at his movement, but Milo was already slipping out of bed, his bare feet padding softly on the plush carpet.

Milo reached for the silk robe draped over a nearby chair, its fabric as smooth and luxurious as his very touch. He let it fall around his shoulders, the material cascading down his muscular frame, clinging just enough to accentuate his physique before he loosely tied it at his waist. Confidently, he made his way to the washroom.

The room greeted him with the soft scent of lavender and rosewater, a testament to his fastidious nature. A large, ornate mirror dominated one wall, its gilded frame catching the light in a manner that made the entire room feel like a work of art. Milo approached the water basin, hazel eyes glinting with the usual warmth that had earned him the moniker "Mr. Sunshine."

He cupped his hands under the cool water, splashing it over his face in a ritual that had become second nature. As the droplets trickled down his skin, his gaze lifted to the mirror. What he saw there was not his perfect face as would be expected, but instead the reflection staring back at him was... wrong.

The distortion was subtle at first, a slight ripple that made the lines of his face appear fluid, almost melting into one another. He blinked, expecting the anomaly to pass, but it only deepened. The once-kind eyes darkened, and his chiseled features warped as if the mirror had become a portal to a world where everything familiar was twisted into something uncanny.

Milo’s breath caught in his throat as he stood locked in a silent stare with whatever his eyes were seeing there in the mirror. The moments stretched out, each second laden with a growing tension that felt out of place in the otherwise serene morning. The smile he’d worn just moments ago was gone, replaced by an expression that was hard to decipher… anger perhaps, or simply just intensity.

Then, with a blink of his eyes after a long time of not doing so, the distortion faded, leaving his reflection as it should have always been; perfect, composed, untroubled. Yet, Milo found himself unable to tear his gaze away, the afterimage of that warped visage lingering in his mind.

He let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing as he forced himself to look away from the mirror. With a final glance at the water basin, he turned and left the washroom, his expression shifting back to one of serenity and confidence as he made his way back to the bed where the women, now awake, were waiting for him.

Time:10am
Location: Edwards Estate - Drake's Party
Attire: Dress, Amulet
Interaction: @PapaOso Cassius @FunnyGuy Lorenzo @CitrusArms Stratya
Mention: @Lava Alckon Drake

---

The Edwards' estate was even more grand than Charlotte remembered. As Tempestes came to a halt before the sprawling manor, her gaze slowly swept over the majestic structure with admiration. For the Vikenas and the Damiens, Sorian was a seasonal retreat, a place to visit when the leaves changed or the summer sun beckoned. But for the Edwards family, this was their main residence, and they certainly made sure everyone knew it.

The pink-hued stone of the towering structure gleamed softly in the morning light, with its turrets and spires seemingly reaching toward the heavens.

As they neared the entrance, Tempestes slowed to a gentle trot. Cassius dismounted first, offering his hand to help Charlotte down. She accepted it gratefully, her feet touching the ground with grace. She didn’t release his hand immediately, taking a moment to absorb the grandeur that surrounded them.

"The Edwards have always had a flair for the dramatic," Charlotte remarked, her tone light yet appreciative. "Duke Gideon Edwards is not simply a Duke, but the Duke of Soralia—second only to the royal family in power. Sometimes, I forget just how vast their influence is until I'm standing before their estate."

A stable hand approached with quiet efficiency, dressed in neat livery bearing the Edwards family crest. With a respectful bow, he addressed them.

“Allow me to take your horse, my lord, my lady,” he said, his tone polite, his eyes respectfully lowered as he reached for Tempestes’ reins.

"Oh, thank you—just one moment!" Charlotte reached into one of the saddlebags secured to Tempestes. Her fingers brushed against the carefully wrapped package inside, and she gently pulled it out. The gift, wrapped in green paper and tied with a silver ribbon, was simple yet elegant. Turning back toward Cassius, she gave him a playful smile and raised her fist in the air. "Onward!"

Another servant appeared, leading them to the yard, where the soft melody of a band intertwined with the chatter of guests.

Charlotte's eyes swept across the sea of people already gathered on the lush grounds. Despite the early hour, the estate buzzed with conversation and laughter. "So many guests, and it's still early... Lord Drake is very beloved." Charlotte remarked softly to Cassius, her voice carrying a note of admiration. Her gaze drifted over the scene, pausing as she spotted her stepfather standing near a table that hosted Duke Gideon, the Duchess, and the Damiens. Lord Drake Edwards himself was seated nearby, the center of attention, as one might expect on such an occasion. Just beyond them, she caught a glimpse of Prince Wulfric departing with a striking horse.

"Your father's just over there... and Lord Edwards too," she continued, her tone warm and inviting. "We should go wish him a happy birthday." With a graceful nod, she subtly encouraged Cassius to join her in making their way toward the table.

As she approached the table of respected nobles, she steeled herself for the encounter with Calbert Damien. It wasn't her greatest desire to approach him at the moment, but it was best to get such an ordeal over with. As she neared, her gaze caught that of Duke Gideon Edwards, whose face lit up with a wide, welcoming smile at the sight of her.

"Good morning, Duke and Duchess Edwards. Thank you for the invite to this wonderful party, and good morning Count and Countess Damien."

The Duchess, appearing aloof, continued to sip her champagne as if Charlotte hadn't spoken. Meanwhile, Count Damien returned the pleasantry in a kind tone, though Charlotte couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze directly. His wife, however, offered a warm smile, whether genuine or not was difficult to discern.

Duke Gideon, on the other hand, was visibly pleased by her presence. His smile was not just polite, but sincere, as if seeing Charlotte brightened his day. "You’re always welcome here, Lady Lottie," he said, his voice rich with genuine affection and his trademark charisma. "Look at you! Walter would be so proud of the young lady you’ve become."

His words, delivered with such conviction, wrapped around her like a comforting embrace. She smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Duke Edwards."

Turning to face her stepfather, her grin widened as she caught his eye. "Fancy seeing you here, huh?" Charlotte greeted him affectionately, her tone light and teasing. "I don’t suppose you’d like to join me at that empty table in just a moment? I would like to wish Lord Drake a happy birthday first… Oh, and might I add, what a lovely suit. The color complements you wonderfully."

As she was about to approach Drake as planned, Charlotte noticed him already engaged in conversation with other gentlemen. Rather than interrupt, she allowed her gaze to wander, eventually settling on a striking blonde woman nearby. The woman’s attire immediately caught Charlotte’s attention—pants, unusually so, and apparel that suggested she was part of the royal guard. Charlotte couldn’t help but be intrigued. A smile played on her lips as she took a step toward the woman, her curiosity piqued. "Pardon me, my name is Lady Charlotte Vikena. I don't believe we've met."

---

A sharp, resounding crack sliced through the cold, morning air. Solid wood kicked against Sjan-dehk’s shoulder. Off in the distance – roughly a hundred paces across the field of Sorian’s range – the upper-left corner of a rectangular, wooden slab burst into splinters, matching it with the other three. The painting of a person brushed haphazardly on its centre, however, was markedly untouched.

Sjan-dehk huffed, his nostrils flaring. He clicked his tongue and brought the rifle in his hands down to his waist, its smoking muzzle still pointed towards the target. “That makes three,” he groused.

Beside him, Mursi peered through a spyglass. He hesitated for a moment, then grimaced. “Maybe the sights are still misaligned. I can–”

“Don’t bother,” Sjan-dehk interrupted and shook his head. He had enough experience with such things to know when a weapon was at fault, and when fault laid with the person using it. In this case, he knew for certain that it was a case of the latter.. A muted and frustrated sigh left his lips, and he stood his rifle upright on the ground, hand wrapped around the forestock and still-warm barrel. “Just one of those days, I guess, where I’m especially terrible.”

And the reason what that was so, was clear to him

He had been awoken by a nightmare earlier that morning, one which had shocked him so much that he had almost fallen out of his cot. And while he couldn’t recall every detail, and what little he did remember wasn’t anything more than vague sounds and scenes, the feelings that nightmare had evoked – the unease, the discomfort, the disquiet – stubbornly clung to corners of his mind. Sjan-dehk had tried to clear his head of them, of course, but even after busying himself far more than he needed to with Sada Kurau’s morning routines, they refused to leave. Preparing for a morning of rifle practice failed to serve as a distraction as well. Even now, as he looked at the results of his poor marksmanship, those lingering traces of his nightmare whispered to him from where they hid in his mind.

“Captain,” a voice called to him.

Sjan-dehk shook his head, blinked a few times, and turned around. Kai-dahn, the commander of Sada Kurau’s detachment of Seaborne, stood before him. Dour-faced, with severe features and a demeanour to match, Kai-dahn was an anomaly amongst Sada Kurau’s crew. Still, Sjan-dehk considered him to be a welcome presence. No matter how skilled, or how experienced the crew, a disciplinarian who believed in doing things by the book was always good to have. That Kai-dahn was a capable leader, good soldier, and fierce fighter was simply a bonus.

Kai-dahn snapped to a salute. Sjan-dehk responded in kind. “I’ve already addressed the men and given them their orders. Do you have anything you wish to say to them?”

“Yes,” Sjan-dehk replied, then looked over to the two dozen men assembled in neat ranks. All of them were dressed for battle – lamellar cuirasses over blue tunics, leather pouches and satchels hanging from waist belts, wide-brimmed hats tied securely to their heads, and rifles behind their shoulders. Each of their faces was a strange mix of young and old. Their complexions spoke of youth, but the depth in their eyes, and the way they carried themselves, betrayed their status as veterans of countless battles. Be it at sea or on land, they had followed Sjan-dehk into battle time and time again.



A quiet, ethereal voice whispered in Sjan-dehk’s head. He quickly pushed it away and did his best to pretend he hadn’t heard anything. “I suppose you all saw that?” He asked and jerked a thumb towards the target at which he had been shooting. A few nods went through the ranks. “Try not to do that, and you’ll be fine for today,” Sjan-dehk added with a smirk. Some of the men laughed, but a stern look from Kai-dahn silenced them. In turn, Sjan-dehk glanced at the Commander of Seaborne, and he relented. “But just to be absolutely clear, whether we like it or not, we’re representing the Commonwealth while we’re out here, so I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour.”

A memory of the previous night popped into Sjan-dehk’s head. Stratya had told him that firearms weren’t as common here as they were in the Commonwealth. “There might be locals curious about what we’re doing, but don’t worry about them. Just do what you’re supposed to do. If they try to talk to you, you don’t have to reply if you don’t want to, but just try to be polite. I’d rather not clean up after one of your messes today like I had to last night.” He looked at one particular man. “Isn’t that right, Yehn-tai?”

“Don’t worry, Captain,” Yehn-tain called back. “We won’t understand what they’re saying, anyway.”

Sjan-dehk nodded, then looked at Kai-dahn. “All yours, Commander.”

Kai-dahn saluted once more before barking orders at the men. As they broke ranks to get into their firing detachments, Sjan-dehk hefted the rifle in his hands and looked at the target once more. He clenched his jaw, and returned to the firing line. He didn’t have to try again. There was no need for him to; he could just sit back and let Kai-dahn and Mursi handle everything until it was time to return to Sada Kurau. But he couldn’t leave things as they were.

With deft actions that came with practice, Sjan-dehk reloaded the weapon. He half-cocked the hammer, swung open the breechblock, took out a cartridge, pushed the paper cylinder into the breech, swung the block back into place, and clicked the hammer into position. Simple. He barely even needed to think about it, and it was done in less than a quarter-of-a-minute. He shouldered the rifle, and lined the sights up with the target in the distance. It blurred and sharpened. He drew in a deep breath.



The voice whispered again, and only now did Sjan-dehk recognise it from his nightmare. He clenched his jaw and held his breath. Whether he was worthy or not – whatever that meant – was unimportant. The things he had done, he did not because he wanted to, but because he had no choice. Did it make him a bad person? Maybe. But what did it matter if he was? He did his duty, he kept himself, his crew, and his ship alive. That was all that mattered. Everything else was irrelevant.

He pulled the trigger. The rifle cracked and kicked against his shoulder. Through the dissipating smoke, he looked at the target.

Dead centre.

---

Time: 10am
Location: Edwards Estate / Drake’s Party
Interaction: @princess Charlotte, @FunnyGuy Lorenzo

---

As Cassius dismounted from Tempestes, he extended his hand to Charlotte with a natural ease and offered her a charming smile. She took it, her touch warm and delicate, and for a moment, he found himself lingering in that simple contact as she did not release his hand immediately. He certainly had no reason to complain.

He followed her gaze as it swept over the Edwards' estate. It was far grander than the places he'd called home over the years, and even more impressive than the mind-blowingly beautiful Damien estate he was only just beginning to get used to.

Charlotte’s admiration for the place was evident in the wonder that painted her expression as she explored it with her eyes, and that spark in her gaze told Cassius more than words ever could. It was as if she was drinking in every detail; the marble statues standing sentinel along the walkway, the vibrant gardens bursting with color, the way the sunlight danced off the fountain's crystal-clear water…almost like each element was weaving its way into her very soul.

"The Edwards have always had a flair for the dramatic..." Charlotte remarked, her tone light, drawing him back from his thoughts. He smirked at her words, the corners of his mouth lifting in response to her observation. She was insightful, something he was growing to appreciate about her. She understood the grandeur, but there was no detectable trace of envy or insecurity in her tone, only an appreciation of what it was.

“It’s quite stunning.” Cassius exclaimed simply as he handed the reins of Tempestes to the stable hand and watched as Charlotte retrieved a gift from the saddlebag. She turned to him with that playful smile that always seemed to soften the edges of his mind. "Onward!" she commanded with a gentle lift of her fist. He chuckled, the sound a touch softer than usual, as if her infectious energy had already worked its magic on him. Plus, she simply looked adorable as she did so.

As they walked toward the yard, the sounds of the party reached his ears, a soft melody intertwining with the hum of conversation. Cassius wasn't a stranger to gatherings like this, but they usually involved more drunkards and ne'er-do-wells and fewer distinguished guests. He felt the weight of eyes on them as they moved through the crowd, his presence, especially so close to her, undoubtedly drawing attention. But it was Charlotte who held his focus, her graceful demeanor an easy draw for his eyes and thoughts.

"So many guests, and it's still early... Lord Drake is very beloved," Charlotte said softly, her voice carrying a note of admiration. He glanced at her, the way her eyes lit up as she took in the scene around them. It wasn't just the admiration in her voice that caught his attention, it was the way she saw these people, the way she always saw something good in them, and in places, and even in moments. It was a perspective so different from his own in many ways, so untainted by the bitterness and cynicism he carried so deep. But it was just so her.

As he continued to process her words, Cassius's grin faltered for the briefest moment. For some reason, Drake’s name on her lips tasted bitter, a sharp edge cutting through the easy charm he wore so well. He quickly smoothed his expression, but the feeling lingered like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch, and a single...slightly petty, thought crossed his mind. dRaKe iS vErY bElOvEd. Cas thought to himself with a sly grin.

When she mentioned his father, Cassius felt a familiar but brief tension coil in his chest. Calbert Damien stood among other nobles at the table and Charlotte led them over. “Father…Countess.” He said in greeting to Calbert and Liliane, his patented smirk playing on his lips.

The Duke of Soralia greeted Charlotte with genuine affection, which warmed his heart considering how the man’s wife didn’t even seem to acknowledge her presence. "You’re always welcome here, Lady Lottie." Duke Gideon said, his voice rich with warmth. Cassius noted how Charlotte seemed to brighten at his words, her smile softening into something genuine. It was more than clear that they held one another in high regard. He then stepped up to the Duke and Duchess with a subtle bow.

“I’m glad we can finally be formally introduced.” His words were absolutely brimming with charm as he spoke. “Cassius Vael, or rather Damien. Lovely to meet you both.”

With that, he watched as Lottie moved to the next person at the table. His eyes lingered on her as she spoke with her stepfather. She moved through this world with such grace, navigating the intricate social dynamics in a way that only further endeared her to him. Her kindness was not a facade; it was as much a part of her as her striking blue eyes or her inquisitive nature.

As she spoke, Cassius found himself captivated by the way she interacted with others and how she bridged the gap between formality and warmth. It wasn’t her words alone, but also the way she leaned in just a little, as if the person she was speaking to was the only one who mattered in that moment. There was a sincerity in her gaze that made even the most guarded souls drop their defenses, and Cassius found himself marveling at it, wondering how she managed to turn every encounter into something so... real. She seemed to have the gift of making people feel seen and valued, and it wasn’t a manipulation or tactic...It’s just how she was. There was a strength in her gentleness, a power in her kindness, and he couldn’t help but smile when he was around her.

For the briefest of moments, something about that realization gave him pause. However, he brushed it away as quickly as it came. Stepping forward, he properly introduced himself to Lorenzo with swagger and panache.

“It’s not every day that a man like me gets to meet a Duke, let alone two at one table.” He jested. Cassius leaned in, a mischievous gleam in his storm-gray eyes, his voice dropping to a soft whisper that was laced with playful reverence. “But between you and me…” He murmured, his words like velvet. “There's no contest. The award for the most impressive Duke at this gathering…well, it’s a foregone conclusion, my good sir. That ensemble of yours? Simply flawless. Every detail, immaculate.” His eyes flicked over the Duke’s attire, appreciating the rich fabric, the finely tailored lines, and odd yet wonderful shade of pink as if he was savoring a fine wine. After giving the Duke a moment to drink in the compliments before continuing. “I’m Cassius Damien, your Grace. It’s an honor to meet you”

Time: 25th, Morning
Location: Edwards Estate
Attire: Officer’s Formal
Interactions: @princess Charlotte
Mentions: @Helo Callum, @SilverPaw Wulfric, Annie, James

The Captain felt a little underdressed. She decided she was fine, but the finery all other attendants were wearing made her feel underwhelming. Even the estate itself felt done to the nines. Duke Vikena's attire was particularly fabulous, the color a fine contrast with his surroundings without being overstated.

Someone who was not done to the nines was - James, did she hear his name was? Such a scruffy cat, to be given to Lord Edwards as a birthday gift? Herself, she'd not complain, but she had the suspicion her standards were, ooh, slightly different. She fought the urge to kidnap the cat aside for a quick grooming. Check for fleas, comb out any matts, like she'd done for so many barn cats. Ooh, but, surely the princess knew what- is that the same cat I pet on my way here? Surely she knew what she was doing? Aah, this was probably something better left to - there he is, Wulfric, bringing a stately horse. Yes, she'll let Prince Wulfric worry about that.

Just the distraction the knight needed, she heard a voice next to her introduce herself. One foot moved and the other pivoted, she turned to face the daughter of the Duke she had yet to greet. Charlotte. “Lady Charrlotte, a pleasure. Cap’n Stratya Durrmand.” The woman offered a warm smile, and then took a somewhat theatrical look around before coming back to the young lady and looking her over once, “an’ ‘ere I though’ ‘is uniform was sharp. Well, ’s sharp enough, I s’ppose. Though, I think even the groundskeeper ‘as outdone me,” there was a bit of humor in her voice as she took in her surroundings for a brief moment, and added softly “what fine work ‘as been done ‘ere. 'Ere mus’ be a few skilled pairs of ‘ands abou' it.”

Her attention turned to the gifts Anastacia’s servants were struggling with. She wanted to help somehow, but resisted the urge. She’d been told to mingle, so here she was mingling, here she would stay mingling. She let her attention shift to the gifts themselves, and the sheer amount of them. She touched a finger to her lips sheepishly, and asked quietly, “should I ‘ave brrough’ more gif’s..? I made a baske’ abou’, oh, yae big,” she motioned with her hands, “full o' swee' brreads, and brrough' some good mead. Oh, an’ I made tha’ alcoholic brread, there,” She gave a nod of her head in the direction of what remained. ”Someone rran off wit’ a 'ole loaf, I think.” The Knight looked about and, before very long at all, found her loaf. And the absconder. She took a sharp breath through her nose, “_{and there ‘is ‘ighness is..}” To be devouring that so quickly, so early in the day, had her concerned. She enjoyed a drink, herself, but she didn’t usually start the day with booze. She found him in the slums the other night, too. There could be other problems with that matter in particular, but this overindulgence on alcohol had her concerned. She made a mental note to talk to her sergeant about the location she found the Prince. And.. Wulfric, on the matter, as well.

Stratya turned back to Charlotte, deciding it best she divert her attention for now, back to the matter at hand, rather, the young lady she was speaking with. One hand raised next to her face and she clapped the fingers of her other hand lightly into the palm, “so, how’s t’ day find you, luv?” She settled her chin into her palm with her fingers. A beat, she cleared her throat briefly and said deliberately, ”Lady Charrlotte.” She found herself blushing just a bit for the second time that day.

Time:10am
Location: Edwards Estate - Drake's Party
Attire: Dress, Amulet
Interaction: @PapaOso Cassius @FunnyGuy Lorenzo @CitrusArms Stratya

---

Charlotte's eyes widened slightly in realization, her mind racing as she inwardly chastised herself for not immediately knowing someone as important as a Captain in Sorian. Nonetheless, she recovered and greeted Stratya with a warm smile, "Captain Durmand, it's truly an honor," she began, "And I must say, your uniform is exceptionally sharp. You look not only lovely but also... powerful. And if you ask me, there's nothing more beautifully feminine than that."

She couldn't help but let her imagination wander as she considered what would it be like to wear such an outfit; She had never worn pants like that in her life, and the thought alone made her feel both curious and daring. She glanced down at her own dress, the delicate lace and soft fabric so different from the Captain's attire, yet in her mind, she imagined herself in such a commanding ensemble. The woman's voice seemed to lower in volume, so she lifted her head to find the captain's attention had shifted. Her gaze followed hers, landing on the servants as well. She frowned and immediately called over, "Hello! Does anyone need help over there?" The servants dismissed her rather hastily with awkward smiles.

Her attention slid back to the Captain, her words registering in her brain. "Your gift sounds absolutely scrumptious!" she commented with delight. With a giggle, she added, " And it seems Prince Callum is certainly enjoying it! It must be really yummy."

When the Captain addressed her as love, Charlotte blushed faintly. "I'm having a rather splendid day so far, and I can hardly wait to discover all the lovely treats this party has to offer. "

“Count Calbert’s bastard?!”

The smile she wore fell. She spun around swiftly, her eyes darting between Lorenzo and Cassius. Her stepfather now had his hands over his mouth.

"Oh dear." She murmured. This time, she dared to look at Calbert, and she almost wished she hadn't. He had rose up from his seat and for once, Charlotte saw him drop his facade in the light of day before all. His brows were furrowed, and his expression was one of unbridled fury, as though he was moments away from lunging across the table to strangle Lorenzo.

"...Please excuse me." She said softly to Stratya.

Deliberately, she hurried to Lorenzo's side and looped an arm through his. "Let's go sit please." she announced, her tone just shy of pleading. "I feel a bit overcome by the heat, and I could use your help finding our way to the table." Her gaze then found Cassius, and she bit her lip, an apologetic look filling her eyes. She hoped he wouldn't be too angry as well; they had just started becoming friends after all.

Stratya Durmand

Time: 25th, Morning
Location: Edwards Estate
Attire: Officer’s Formal
Family Dirk + Crest
Interactions: Ariella @Tpartywithzombi
Mentions: Anastasia’s servants, Callum, Charlotte

Aah, what a lovely young lady! It didn’t seem like she was just being flattered, the compliments were genuine and thought out. Her uniform wasn’t grand or extravagant, but it was very sharp and powerful. She hadn’t thought of it like that, distracted by all the finery and jewels. The compliment brought an appreciative smile to her face. Beautifully, powerfully, feminine. Ooh, goodness, she could get used to this. ”Y’ think so? Ooh, ‘at’s good to ‘ear. I’ve been yet shy o’ these even's. Hearrin’ such sincerre complimen’s is rreassurin’, thank you.”

Charlotte, perhaps for the best, did not pick up on the Captain’s trepidation regarding the Prince. Yes, it wasn’t anything she needed to worry about, ”’e cer’ainly does, tha’ ‘ighness, him,” Stratya supposed she should just take the compliment, for now. Callum waved to her with the bread and she couldn't decide if he was being saucy or not. It seemed like a plain enough motion. ”I didn' expect anyone ta eat t' 'ole loaf, though.”

A voice shouted something rather scandalous.

At the same time as Charlotte, Stratya and the lady offered under their breath, ”oh dear.” It was, of course, Duke Lorenzo. She nodded as Charlotte turned and excused herself, ”g’on ahead, darlin’.” She eyed the Count, who seemed.. incredibly furious.

Callum blared in next, repeating the scandal. Just as she had been considering how best to distract the Count, the younger prince did something, himself. Maybe not the way she would have hoped to distract him, but it was interesting to note that Callum had done something to deflect from Lorenzo. Perhaps he meant to irritate the Count? Whatever the case, the Count would watch himself doubly so when faced with the Royal Family. Right? The Queen’s Knight caught herself watching the Count and turned her attention away, back to the servants carrying Anastasia’s presents. She sighed softly, deciding this was the least troubling to deal with. Right, let’s organize that mess.

“A’rrigh’, lads, ‘ere I come.” Stratya strode toward the gift-burdened servants, struggling with the crowded bottleneck at the gate, and wondered about how to organize this when she saw her solution just there. Stewart was taking his time, having a leisurely drive on his way home. He must have gone down and come back around. What luck! ”Oye, Stewar’! You faffin’? Bring y’sen hence ‘n ‘elp these lads with ‘at car', put 'er," Stratya took a moment to choose a place, "there. You lads stage there once Stewar’ stops aroun’ and take those ‘eavy ones in two- or three-man teams from there.” She stood by for a moment to see that her orders were working out and nodded, before going to the bar she'd spotted.

She’d been about to get herself mead, but stopped, ”Gods, maybe I shoul’ go ta nice liquorr ‘ouses morre, ‘old on.” Brown eyes scanned over the bottles behind the bar she leaned on with deliberation, ”Oooh, mix me a surrprise, barrkeep. Some’in’... sweet.” When handed a drink, she took a sip and her eyes lit up.

The next thing she saw was the chocolate fountain. What in blazes? The Captain approached the fountain, sipping her drink and looking over the fruits. She settled on a strawberry, sticking it with a toothpick and running it under the chocolate. She let any spare chocolate drip off for a moment before walking away, or so she thought. She saw some about to drip off as she lifted the fruit to her lips and quickly caught the drop on her tongue before taking a bit.

Ooh, she’d tasted fresh strawberry before, but good chocolate was another matter. This was incredible. It was so rich yet so balanced, the way the richness of the chocolate complimented the sweet lightness of the strawberry, she.. had to put this in bread. Stratya had herself a seat with a young lady who, herself, had just sat down to a table alone. The knight had yet to meet Ariella. “Strawb’rries and chocola’e go very well. 'At gives me an idea f'r brread, i' does.” The woman gave a soft ”mmm,” she sat as she finished her strawberry, a pleased smile on her lips, and swallowed before she spoke ”think I’ll ‘ave ta ‘ave morre in jus' a minu'e.” She turned her attention to Ariella, smiling warmly, ”I don’ believe we’ve me’. Cap’n Stratya Durmand.”