Ame sleepily adjusted her ceremonial garbs as she listened to the Lord Steward's address. Her attendants had been informed that today's address was of particular importance, and thus had wrapped Ame head-to-toe with the most intricate of fineries. Most frivolous, in Ame's opinion, as her hair had been twice tied and perfumed with garrishness Ame was sick of already. This much, though, she knew to hide. Ame did not betray anything other than a collected gaze to the Steward, even as the announcement loosed an aura of excitement upon the crowd. As much as she could rather tear off these robes and hide back in her comfortable domicile, back in the world of books and numbers, her mantle was to sit here and represent the might and dignity of Valkenkarr.
The weight didn't settle her nerves. Heavens, now everyone was up and offering their own little two coppers to the news. The other Knight-Commanders, many of them fresh faces save for Idris, uniformly expressed a cautious optimism. It was hardly surprising. Alveria was on the brink of collapse, both from within and from even Ame's own country. A true heir was easily the saving grace that the beleagered state needed, but to have such a light shine from beyond the pale so easily? And without any other detail than the rumor-mill of mountain folk? This was walking a fine line between optimism and naivete.
A miracle or simple illusion, though, it meant the Steward was finally making moves. Ame could hear the distant rustlings of the attendees, and further still; a giant clock hand shaking off rust and grime as some invisible cog or a time-eaten beast purred into life. In time, horses will ride through the mountains and the news they bore would arrest the ears of the Council. A thunderstorm in the distance...
Ame snapped back into her own consciousness as the tempered voice of Kalowick spoke near her. It was due to be her turn next, and her title of Champion-Apparent demanded a voice. She rattled her mind for what to say, but came up with little more than empty platitudes. The profession of her current station was to offer such ceremonies with presence, but Ame found herself lacking in depth and measure.
Keep it simple. Don't stand out. Valkenkarr needs to show straightforwardness right now, no need for dramatics.
She swallowed a deep breath and stepped forward as her turn came. Her vacillation was swept clean from her voice as she spoke up, her guise of measured resoluteness as practiced as ever. "Lord Steward, consider it done. Valkenkarr stands with Alveria, and we will restore the heir to the throne, as sure as snow and steel."
The weight didn't settle her nerves. Heavens, now everyone was up and offering their own little two coppers to the news. The other Knight-Commanders, many of them fresh faces save for Idris, uniformly expressed a cautious optimism. It was hardly surprising. Alveria was on the brink of collapse, both from within and from even Ame's own country. A true heir was easily the saving grace that the beleagered state needed, but to have such a light shine from beyond the pale so easily? And without any other detail than the rumor-mill of mountain folk? This was walking a fine line between optimism and naivete.
A miracle or simple illusion, though, it meant the Steward was finally making moves. Ame could hear the distant rustlings of the attendees, and further still; a giant clock hand shaking off rust and grime as some invisible cog or a time-eaten beast purred into life. In time, horses will ride through the mountains and the news they bore would arrest the ears of the Council. A thunderstorm in the distance...
Ame snapped back into her own consciousness as the tempered voice of Kalowick spoke near her. It was due to be her turn next, and her title of Champion-Apparent demanded a voice. She rattled her mind for what to say, but came up with little more than empty platitudes. The profession of her current station was to offer such ceremonies with presence, but Ame found herself lacking in depth and measure.
Keep it simple. Don't stand out. Valkenkarr needs to show straightforwardness right now, no need for dramatics.
She swallowed a deep breath and stepped forward as her turn came. Her vacillation was swept clean from her voice as she spoke up, her guise of measured resoluteness as practiced as ever. "Lord Steward, consider it done. Valkenkarr stands with Alveria, and we will restore the heir to the throne, as sure as snow and steel."