*The Verge of War* A Medieval Rp

"That it is" Cliffton nodded, taking her hand and placing his other one lightly on her waist (about to be)
Jane placed her free hand lightly on his shoulder. The music was nice, but too slow for her taste. "Purely out of curiosity, but from what kingdom do you come? As stated previously, it won't affect my opinion of you. I would just like to know," she smiled sweetly at him.
 
India pawed at the stable floor impatiently. She wasn't used to being tied out, and she was tired, hungry, and a little bit thirsty too.
Herja, nervous about being discovered in the (Edinburgh) stables, cautiously poked her head from the hay loft of the stables.
 
Jane placed her free hand lightly on his shoulder. The music was nice, but too slow for her taste. "Purely out of curiosity, but from what kingdom do you come? As stated previously, it won't affect my opinion of you. I would just like to know," she smiled sweetly at him.
"Um...Edinburgh" Cliffton decided it couldn't hurt "And you?"
 
Linnet looked over when she heard a door open. She couldn't discern who it was because of the shadows, so she decided to keep quiet and let them make themselves known.

"Indeed, nothing less," William grinned beneath his mask. It had been a long while since he had been able to be himself at a ball. While abroad, he never felt quite as comfortable teasing and having fun as when in his own country. He stopped nearly in the center of the room and turned to face Gwen. He held out his hand to begin dancing.

Fawn closed her eyes to take in the sounds of the room: the gentle music all around, laughter from a far corner, voices echoing agains the stone floor. Slowly, gradually, she let her head rest on Edmund's firm shoulder. Edmund didn't mind in the least. The waltz was perfectly slow and just the right volume. It allowed him to think.

(Aw poo. Poor Richard :lol: )
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"Alena, please. You've just awaken from being unconcious for a spell. Please put thoughts of my mother away for now. Relax," Edwin told her, his voice gentle yet commanding.


Peter ran his fingers though his shaggy brown curls, breathing deeply the cool night air. The ball suddenly didn't seem so exciting. He had only come for her.

Gwen took Williams hand. "So I suppose you are used to balls even grander than this?"
 
"I'm...nobleness" Cliffton decided to leave it at that "And you? A princess, perhaps?"
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Cedric pretended to be sorry "I'm terribly sorry young sir; I guess I was mistaken. It's clear you are no such thing. Perhaps...an assassin in training?" He was messing with him; hoping to antagonize him enough to find out what he really was. A prince, he hoped.


Thomas rolled his eyes. This man wasn't worth his time. He stomped towards the desert table to retrieve more sweets.
 
Peter ran his fingers though his shaggy brown curls, breathing deeply the cool night air. The ball suddenly didn't seem so exciting. He had only come for her.

Gwen took Williams hand. "So I suppose you are used to balls even grander than this?"
( :love )

Curiosity finally got the better of her. "Lovely evening, isn't it," Linnet commented, breaking the silence. She took a sip from her glass then leaned against the rail.

William slipped his hand around Gwen's thin waist. "Used to them, yes. But fond, indeed not. I much prefer parties nearer home," he replied.

"You smell like roses," Edmund interrupted Fawn's train of thought. Without looking up, she replied softly, "Rosewater."
"Ah. Sweet and simple." He twirled her gently. No more was said. The two continued this way for the remainder of the dance: she with her head on his shoulder, enjoying the moment; he with his fingers entwined in hers while he was deep in thought.
 
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( Hey Bantam, this is for you )

Katrina left the room and headed downstairs. On the stairwell, however, she ran into Tom (random servant guy, filler, insignificant don't dwell on him or you'll be wasting your time and mine XD). "Hey, have you seen the king's saddle bags?" He asked.
Katrina shook her head. "No, why d'ye need them?"
"I'm supposed to polish them. It's been a while, and you know how that leather cracks," he explained.
Katrina thought a moment. "Have ye checked the stables?"
"No. Good idea." He took a step, as if to leave, but then stopped. "Can you check for me? I'm in a real hurry to get all the king's shoes finished before his return, an' searching the barn for bags is gonna take away a good deal of time."
Katrina frowned, but nodded. "Sure." She skipped by the laundry, making sure to keep her face down so she wouldn't be stopped. Grabbing a random shawl lying nearby, she went out to the stables.
 
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Hearing no startled stableboys running about, Herja risked going down to check the mare's condition.
India was digging a hole in her stall, annoyed and totally bored.
Clucking to the mare, Herja placed a hand on her shoulder, the muscle flinching under her hands as though shooing a fly. " Easy, girl. Take er easy," she cooed. The mare vigorously nodded her head, as if to say, take this thing off! I am so done with you, and this halter! Herja ran her hands along the neck, the dried sweat stiff on her supple neck. She had cooled down enough, she should be alright now if she is let go. Herja started to unbuckle the halter, not paying attention to much else but the horse. Her shoulder wound had slowed bleed, but the blood had covered her arm, and she was coated in a layer of road dirt and horse sweat, along with her shoulder and arm shining with fresh blood.
 
Katrina entered the stable. She heard rustling from a stall, but didn't think anything About it. There seemed to always be a stableboy or knight in here. She took the lantern from the wall down and went to look among the saddles for the bags. The room they were in was basically just an open stall. She held up the light and looked around the king's saddle but to no avail. Prince's saddle, same results. She got down on her hands and knees and looked around the base of the saddle stands. The dust got to her nose, making her let out a loud sneeze.
 
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