[color=f49ac2][h3] Ayel Raunefeldt [/h3][/color]

[color=f49ac2][b]"Everyone calm down, you will all get a chance to look at me once I have gotten the direction to the stage!"[/b][/color] Ayel spoke up in a loud tone as he used his sheathed sword to poke and try move people to make a path for him, he couldn't afford having any of these seemingly poor people come in contact with his radiant garments. [color=f49ac2][b]"Out of the way mushroom. Relegate yourself to the back where peasants ought to be. You might infect those with far nobler blood with your pox. Go on, shoo, get out of the way. I have a speech to make. You there, wench get this abomination out of the way." [/b][/color]The aurelian man took up his handmirror, the sheer panic that had filled him being in close proximity to blightborn and people of lower social rank was unnerving. The sooner he could get up on the stage which they surely had erected for him against the awful looking building. At least that was what he regarded it as. How could his coming mansion and emporium be neighbours to it? He felt a lump in his noble belly and throat as he dreaded the awful view that he would see every morning, when Faldrin would pull open the curtains to reveal this blight of a building. No this would absolutely not do.

A complaint would have to be made to the prince. Since his father was a reasonable man, according to Ayel, no doubt would it be a breeze to put in some alterations and extra rules.

Such as having none of those blightborn monstrocities be outside after 8pm. It didn't matter that the sun was temporary concealed, it was more about making a statement, to show all peasants who were in charge.

He soon felt another feeling, one of disgust as he realized the building was seemingly an inn or something like that. He didn't want to listen to loud drunk peasants, they should be like peasants, seen but not heard. But from a safe distance.

But the suggestion list he would make for the prince would have to wait, for now he had to settle the problem of there being alot of people blocking HIS path, to HIS stage.

The marquess allowed himself an eyeroll as he moved his bothersome lock from his face.


[color=f49ac2][b]"You there, old guard! Come here and pave a way, I do not have all the time in the world you know? I am rich you know." [/b][/color]He yelled over towards an older looking man in the distance. That older man being Adonis. He didn't recall the man, but then again... all guardsmen types looked the same, barbaric and brutish. Unlike his very own graceful glamour. But he couldn't help to feel a tinge of pleasure amidst it all, for without people, ugly poor people, they wouldn't be able to see the vast difference between them and himself. How he peaked above them like a mountain overlooking a swamp.

The very comparison made him feel a surge in mood, despite having to wait while standing. How he hated that. He wasn't some lowborn guardsman with nothing better to do than guard a door. His noble body was made for sitting down, preferably on a thronelike seat, and high up to have an elevated view.

Then he felt it. The smell of... farmers. How he hated that smell. It reminded him of them having the audacity to glare at him when he would change the deal so he could earn more by selling their crops, while making sure they would be the eternal workers.

The aurelian man took out a finely brocaded silk napkin and brought it to his nose and mouth, wrinkling his nose and furrowing his eyebrows momentarily. His eyes settling on Fiona, he believed he had found the source of his ills.

It was at that moment he realized he had let these ill-minded people to affect him, he recoiled mentally in horror as he thought that his facial expression may contribute to wrinkles later down his noble life. This he would NOT allow. 

[@GambolMuse][@PrinceAlexus][@Qia][@Lu]