Attire: This sans the cane
Relevant mentions: Mayet@13org, Leo Smithwood @Helo, Charlotte @princess
Interactions: Lorenzo @FunnyGuy, Count Calbert Damien, The whole Alidasht party was greeted (decided it was excessive to mention you all for something minor like this)
While waiting for the Alidasht party, Wulfric helped himself to a glass of red wine, which he sipped slowly, savoring the taste. He had noticed only wine was available at the moment. The variety of it was satisfactory, and he assumed other kinds of alcohol would be introduced to the tables later on. Which may be for the best, so that
certain someones would not get blindingly drunk so quickly into these proceedings. His gaze strayed towards Thea Smithwood, who indeed seemed to be imbibing an unadvisable amount of alcohol already. At this point, she had at least separated herself from her brother. However, there was no time to approach Leo Smithwood, as the guests from Alidasht had begun making their entrance.
Out of all the creatures trampling the pristine floors of their castle, Wulfric would claim the tiger as his favorite. A clearly mighty beast of the hunt, and with an unusual coat to boot. Its roar vibrated within his breastbone, and the prince unknowingly found himself smiling. What would it be like to witness it in full motion? Not contentedly pacing and letting itself be lavished by petting the way it was now, but in pursuit of a prey? How its muscles might shift, its claws rend, its maw glisten with spilled blood…How helpless any of its targets would be, unable to do anything beyond surrendering to their death.
Wulfric still partially lingered on that pleasing picture – despite being aware that this was neither the time nor the place – when he noticed tiger’s owner perusing the populace. Allard met the woman’s gaze, small vicious smirk still in place. As he happened to some wine remaining, he raised his glass to her in a silent toast. Doing so, he unwittingly mimicked the actions of one Mina Blackwood. Though, in his case, his Alidasht counterpart was the one to look away first, as intent as she was in her mission to test the mettle of various nobles.
Nonetheless, Wulfric contentedly sipped on his wine. Upon emptying the chalice, he passed it off to a servant, continuing his observation of the foreigners. The procession from Alidasht was grand indeed, though the Royal Highnesses’ courtesy left much to be desired. Only two bowed as they should to the Caesonian royals, yet even for that pair, Wulfric doubted the gesture was sincere. As for the other three, their greetings ranged from insouciantly brazen, to halfheartedly proper – or calculatedly improper – to an openly challenging mockery.
So, they believe to be superior, do they? Their overblown levels of self-importance inspired a range of feelings in Wulfric. Injured pride and indignation. Yet, also a twisted thrill, even a hint of admiration. The fact that his father must be sore was a satisfying one, despite some of his emotions mirroring his sire’s. Adelard expected to match wit with the Alidasht nobles, a prospect which suited his competitive spirit. However, his plans to subtly meet like with like were quickly dashed by an intruder.
Technically, Duke Lorenzo Vikena had been invited. Unfortunately, the man’s talent to cause unprecedented scandals made yet another showing. Lorenzo hurried in front of the Alidasht, announced himself to the King, mistook the Alidasht guests for performers, and caused the Sultan, Grand Vizier, and one of the shezhadi to fall from their elevated positions. Wulfric was torn between dismay and amusement. The former, because this incident was terrible for Caesonia. The latter, because he felt rather vindicated that the Alidasht party had been humiliated.
However, as it would be more politic to display the former, he focused on that. Thus, Wulfric called to mind what he found to be truly regretful.
I shall have to be impeccably gallant, now. Yes, it was a shame that he would have to do what he could to appease the Alidasht guests. Until this matter was laid to rest, and perhaps for a while after, there would hardly be opportunity for his formerly envisaged glorious battle of words. All in all, his scowl of scorn for Lorenzo was sincere.
What followed were assorted attempts at diplomacy. He noted Count Damien was the first to respond, protecting Lorenzo and deflecting the Grand Vizier’s ire. Despite his own previous words to the Count, Wulfric frankly could not fathom why this otherwise admirable man – who by speaking before the King had proven the extent of his influence – was so keen to protect Lorenzo. Was it possessiveness that drove Calbert to embrace him so? Was his help the result of a desire to make the Duke his lover? On the surface, it was an unlikely option, and yet…It may be likelier that it was a ploy to use Vikena’s inborn folly to subtly sabotage King Edin’s reputation.
Regardless of the Count’s motivation, Wulfric clapped when his father prompted them all to do so. Then, he calmly approached his parents and their company. He made it to his destination shortly before Lord Smithwood himself, whose interruption he had not expected. Though, there was another surprising presence there, a certain Count Hendrix, a proficient Varian merchant. It was not the occasion to contemplate why Hendrix was there at this time, however his unobtrusive positioning was in sharp contrast to Lorenzo’s recent bumbling.
While Leo made his introductions to the Alidasht royals, Wulfric whispered a compliment to Count Damien, whom he was standing next to.
“Well intervened,” he nodded lightly. He may not agree with the idea of protecting Lorenzo, but Calbert had done a fine job diffusing the tension. Much was to be said for Charlotte’s selfless bravery as well. It was clear to him she was lying to protect her father. He personally considered her target unworthy of such sentiments, but her actions were commendable ones.
However, when Leo supported Lorenzo as well, Adelard raised a brow at the man’s back. If Calbert’s reasoning had been plausible, Leo’s assertion was ridiculous.
Over-polished floors indeed. For one, he did not appreciate the assertion that his family’s best hand-picked servants were incompetent – if so, the blame ultimately lay with their masters, the Caesonian royals. For another, this was not so simple a matter as to be resolved by attempting to lay all fault at the servants’ feet. Who could possibly be satisfied by such a feeble evasion?
Thus, as his position dictated he may, he decided to voice his opinion. Of course, proper introductions had to be made first. So, he stepped forward, and mimicked the Alidasht greeting perfectly, crossing his arms at the wrists, thumbs to the floor, inclining his head and upper body.
“Your Majesty, Your Excellency, Your Highnesses, peace be upon you.” He rose from the bow, and introduced himself,
“Prince Wulfric Danrose.”Unlike Leo, he did not offer any flattery at this time, as he did not feel that it was opportune. Though Lord Smithwood’s compliments might have been honest, they had inevitably come across as sarcastic. Instead, Adelard cut to the heart of it.
“While certain other factors may have been in play, I agree with Your Majesty,” here, he nodded respectfully to the sultan.
“Regardless of anything else, it was this man whose actions caused the incident in question.” Upon mentioning Lorenzo, Wulfric turned a cool glare at the Duke.
Before addressing the culprit himself, his gaze briefly cut to Count Damien. There was no hint of apology in Allard’s expression, though he did wonder how Calbert would take this. Then, his eyes bored into Lorenzo’s again.
“Duke Vikena,” the address was frosty, reprimand lacing his tone.
“Do you intend to merely stand aside and watch your daughter’s valiant efforts to bear responsibility herself?” Charlotte may not be biologically his, but Adelard believed the point stood regardless.
“Or will you do as honor dictates, and accept your share of the consequences?” As Wulfric challenged the man, it was clear he believed Lorenzo should follow Charlotte’s example, and subject himself to the mercy of the Alidasht royals.
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