Rolling Out the Red Carpet [Closed]

[Hilana Chenzira]

70 Glade, Year 123


[Closed - Arvaelyn, Lykos, Æros]

With word arriving from Sentinel Phocion that His Exalted Highness, Arvaelyn Princeps would be coming for a tour of Red Rock Citadel, Athalia made use of Hilana’s ability to go to and from the cities with shopping lists for herself and Lykos, while she went over etiquette, pronunciation, and titles with Lykos. How to greet the Crown Prince in Vastian and introduce himself, though Hilana had assured the both of them that Arvaelyn would not at all be put out if Common was used - she remembered well their initial encounter in which he’d enjoyed the conversation in the tongue he had been raised with. They had had quite the time in the little tea shop off of the Forum.

When Hilana - and her ghostly companion - had returned, it was with a very stuffed Featherlight Satchel. She had clothes, she had some jewelry and adornments, scented soaps and oils, and some extra ingredients with which to commandeer the kitchen. She didn’t think Arvaelyn would stay long, but one never knew. Maybe he would - and even if he didn’t, then she knew Lykos would be all over the various pastries and desserts. Extras were being made - some for Finn, in case he didn’t make the trip, some for her usual dessert delivery crew, seconds, thirds, and fourths, for the demigod, and some for Raithen in hopes that she’d catch him sooner rather than later. She knew that she would be going out again in a week or so to go and investigate the Tower in the west, but she would focus on that later.

For now, they had a lot to do with the Royal Visit. At least with the servii here and the regular cleaning done, and the fact that this wasn’t her home, a great deal of it was off her shoulders. She had even let Lia fuss about her own attire, though Hilana had to inwardly sigh about it. Still... she had made a promise to herself that she would do better with her family, and with Lia in particular. She owed her her life, after all, so if she wanted to dictate outfits... oh, well. Hilana could live with it. Her blouse was colourful and matched her long skirts: dark teal with silver, pink, and white flowers over it with plenty of embroidery, along with a long matching shawl that was draped over her body. Her usual multitude of mismatching earrings were traded for larger dangling beaded ones, and a few bracelets had been added. Tiaz, of course, was in his usual spot around her shoulders... and Fiya had decided that she was going to adorn her bun. The younger python clearly liked that vantage point.

Lia had gone with an orange-red outfit that was similar, though while Hilana’s blouse bared her midriff, Lia’s was slightly more modest: hers was covered, and the embroidery and painting of the fabric was made to look like stylized flames. When she was nervous while Hilana did her hair, the younger sister tried to reassure her. Arvaelyn Princeps may come across as severe... but he had been a good friend to her, and he had, believe it or not, gone to see their people at the Frost Festival at the end of Frost not even a season ago. That had surprised her, and Hilana had squeezed her shoulders before pinning up her hair in an updo. She wore more jewelry, as was her tastes, including a carefully-shaped lodestone that was tucked amongst her tresses. Her own long scarf was certainly worn more like a shawl. The offer to borrow Tiaz was declined, however, as Lia just shook her head. As loved as the reptiles were in Solunarium, she was only tentative with her sister’s pythons. She remembered better than the younger sister what had happened to Yael, and it was hard to forget.

In any event, the group could wait. Hilana had no idea which way Arvaelyn would come - when he had attended the Frost Festival with his betrothed, they had arrived through portals and then with His Hallowed Highness, Kairyndralok. There were portals from the Umbrium and Luxium to the Citadel, he could use those. But chances were, they’d make their own for the Crown Prince. Beverages were aplenty, canapes and hors d'oeuvres prepared, and desserts and treats were lined up on one of the balconies. But for now, all they could do was wait, and Hilana was quite relaxed on the seat and she had Lykos sandwiched between her and Lia. Everything was about done - all she could do was hurry up and wait. She looked at the demigod and smiled reassuringly. It was a good look on him.

[Rickter]

Rolling Out the Red Carpet
Glade 70th, 123rd Year, A.o.S.

It had been his first extravagant event that he was about to be a part of, rather, a chance to have a proper taste of Solunarium culture at it's finest, or so he had been told. Lykos had no idea if such situations were part of the norm in his previous life, however, he could make an educated guess judging from the anxiety that welled in his gut. Sure there was an absurd amount of food that had started to become prepared, far more than even he could've imagined possibly eating in just one sitting alone.

Surely the feast itself was a mark for the type of guests they were about to receive, and well, once he had been told it was to be the crowned prince himself? Yeah. Lykos definitely felt a budding sense of nervousness within his excitement. After all, he'd only spent half a fortnight here within the citadel, and already he was going to be meeting some highly important figures in the Varvaerynism culture. To him, this man already seemed like a living legend, someone that the people of Solunarium revered to no end.

So yeah, one could imagine just how anxious he felt about the idea. Though when it also afforded him the finest that Solunarium could also provide? The wolf almost felt like a king himself from the treatment given, that is, once they finally started with the fancy baths with aromatic bubbles. From there he'd been given a haircut and a stylish trimming of his beard, taking off some of that "Northern grunge" that still clung to him when they'd finally finished. Knowing that the wolf often liked for his skin to breathe, the servii had also provided him with an enormous selection of clothing options.

All of which was fine linens and some of it even silk, leading Lykos to repeatedly say "Gratias." rather graciously at every turn. It was clear he wasn't used to such exceptional treatment, and of course, in the time spent in preparation for the feast itself; he had received as much on proper etiquette as he could about stand from Lana and Lia. Not that he wasn't fed up or irate over it though, simply put, the wolf was wildly overwhelmed with the energy of it all. It had felt like the immensity of the brave new world he'd ventured into had reared its head at him once more, and all Lykos could do at the moment was sponge it all in his noggin.

Hopefully, everything stuck when he would need to use it, because the wolf admittedly watched the banquet hall where the feast was to be held. Admittedly, his nose crinkled often and it was impeccably difficult not to drool. The food always smelled delectable with each meal, but Lykos could tell the generous hard work that Lana herself had put into the catering. He did like the attire that the sisterly pair wore out to this event, as he sat between the two, he always felt comfortable just basking in their presence. And if anything, it gave him all the more courage than any liquid spirits could provide.

Donned in a turquoise silken vest trimmed with gold, a couple of the servii had gone out of their way to tailor personal designs on the cloth. Combine that with the deep royal blue trousers that felt smooth across his legs, and he just about felt like he lived up to the idea of being the alleged "Lord of Frost" he was supposed to be. If the wintry patterns sewn into his attire hadn't given such implication, then the jeweled accessories they also provided certainly cemented it into his mind. Necklaces of silver with sapphires hung around his neck, and he even wore a fancy belt trimmed with a silver lining.

When the younger sister gave him a smile, the wolf looked from where his attention remained fixed, the food obviously, and then provided her with a soft if not bashful grin in turn. Gods it would've been so much easier to shift in his Lycan form now, that way, no one could see the nervousness trying to surface in his eyes.

[Arvælyn]

Arcem Rubrum Petram had been constructed during the Solunarian colonial era as a stately residence for Prince Phædryn the First. Even then the site had been remote and none of his regal siblings opted to build fortresses in the far reaches of the empty Expanse. Since the death of Phædryn millennia earlier it had not played host to a banquet. It served, instead, as a site for furtive surveillance, arcane experimentation and the sequestering of dangerous items and individuals.

Manned by a skeleton crew for much of its long history, it had become a hub of activity under the stewardship of High Sentinel Cithæra. Since the arrival of Arcas, it had become the headquarters of the newest branch of the Vigilia Argenti: The Custodes Deorum.

Today the upper floors of the citadel had been bedecked with decorations, and even the surface of the mesa into which the fortress was built had been outfitted with refreshments upon tables overlooking the breadth of the Expanse and the Sceptre shining in the sky nearby.

At the appointed hour, the welcoming party would be invited to await the royal entourage on the red stone mesa’s platform.

Phocion’s princely garb looked not so dissimilar from his Sentinel uniform. It was more ornate, and more designed for æsthetic appeal than freedom of motion, but the colour scheme was the same silver on black. A glistering corset of silver inlaid with chainlink design rounded his slender waist, and the skirt of a black cassock fell to just barely grace the ground. Silver pauldrons adorned his slender shoulders with thin chains that were linked to the corset. His face was bare, but for the kohl lining his pale eyes and the silver princely diadem bisecting his pale brow.

“They approach.” He noted, squinting as he turned his gaze skyward, where a V formation could be seen in the distance. The large wyverns were visible before the figure at the point of the formation, but as they drew closer a humanoid shape with bat-like wings would become visible.

Lest the tables be toppled, Elementalist Sentinels lifted their hands to offset the winds stirred by the beating of wyvern wings, as the draconids descended. Arvælyn’s landing was far more graceful, as his outspread wings did not flap during a smooth descent executed through his Kinetic Craft.

He alighted directly in front of Phocion, who bowed low. Smirking, the younger brother stepped forth to draw him into an ostensibly nonconsensual embrace.

“Salve, frater.”

“Ave, Celsitudinus Exaltatus.”

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

- - -

- - -

Æros wasn’t too surprised to hear that Arvælyn intended to tour the Citadel, all things considered. Given his literal tether to Hilana and his own interest in the demi-god, he welcomed the opportunity to be party to the princep’s tour. Considering Arvælyn a friend, it was always nice to see him.

Unlike the last time they saw one another just a couple days before, he and Hilana would be separate entities. However, that didn’t mean Æros would be present devoid of flesh. He’d asked a cousin of his, one Hilana would actually be familiar with, if he would be so kind as to lend him his body for the day’s affair– and the man had granted the request. Palæmon was somewhat of an odd, esoteric elf and part of the reason he’d agreed was morbid curiosity about what it felt like to be possessed. But then there was the fact that his soul wouldn’t be fully silenced and while he’d be relegated to passive observation, this was a way that he could attend, too, and being in such proximity to the draconic crown prince was an opportunity he wasn’t keen to decline.

While Æros could’ve superimposed his own visage over his cousin with Masquerade, maintaining possession, at the moment, wasn’t the easiest thing for him to do and it made expending æther more taxing than it otherwise would be– to maintain so complex an illusion as his previous Fae form would’ve been…tiring. That didn’t mean he appeared entirely bereft of enchantments, however.

Palæmon was tall even for an elf, though not imposing; he was lithe with angular features and an almost dainty air to him, with the bluish pallor to his skin giving him away as distinctly moonborn. Æros had dressed him in similar attire to what the deceased patrician had preferred in life; that is, more jewelry than cloth, white gold being the unifying metal of choice. Further, Æros had enchanted him with some of his old features: his horns, his eyes, and a toned down version of the galaxies that previously crept over his skin. His cousin would not normally dress like this, but the man didn’t object– there was a strange novelty in looking so…unlike himself.

Once preparations had been made, they needn’t have waited long for the princep’s arrival, something made clear by the wings of wyverns on the horizon. Upon Arvælyn’s landing, the first thing he did was embrace his brother– something that was a source of mild amusement for Æros.

He’d wait until the two of them would part before he’d do anything, but once they had, he’d move to get Arvælyn’s attention. “Salve, Arvælyn Princeps– what brings you to the citadel?”

Perhaps a redundant question given the citadel’s purpose and those present, but Æros was more curious about how the princeps would phrase why he was there than much else.

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Hilana Chenzira]

All in all, Hilana was quite pleased with how Lykos’ outfit had turned out. They’d done a wonderful job dressing him and preparing him, and the fact that he was not seeming too uncomfortable was reassuring. In any event, Hilana was calm, and Lia was taking her cues from her sister’s own relaxed demeanour. The elder sister gave Lykos a reassuring smile, her head up, and when Sentinel Phocion noted that the Crown Prince and his entourage were approaching, the Vastian women looked to the skies. “Those are wyverns,” Hilana told Lykos quietly, smiling at them, her eyes brightened. Lana did so love her reptiles, and apparently, the wyverns were no exception. “I’ll see if I can’t get us one to go for a flight on later,” she grinned them, only for Lia to shake her head at her, getting up and smoothing her skirts before motioning for Hilana to do the same. The girl did as she was bid, adjusting the long shawl-like scarf and securing it for the wingbeats, though it was hardly necessary with the work of the elementalists that were keeping everything together.

It hadn’t surprised her that Palaemon had agreed to serve as Æros’ host for today, if only because of the opportunity to visit with royalty. The attire had amused her, though, if only because it was very typical of the half-Fae to dress that way... and she had been around the Moonborn Elementalist to know that it was not his style. Still, Palae was a good sport, and Hilana had brewed up some remedies to help with the after-effects of being possessed. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but her own constitution was sturdy in comparison... so the sickness that came from having Æros’ Runes ripped out was decidedly unpleasant.

When Arvaelyn was close, Hilana smiled up at him, but she and Lia both bowed when the half-dragon landed. A light touch on Lykos’ arm from a little wind from Hilana encouraged the demigod to do the same, and when she saw Arvaelyn hug Phocion, her eyes absolutely danced with delight and amusement, unable to keep the grin off of her face to see it. She did, however, aim to get back to a straight face by the time the younger brother released the elder. She knew full well that she was absolutely never going to have the opportunity to pounce on Phocion like that, and that she’d run into a kinetic wall if she ever attempted it, but she could enjoy it while Arvaelyn did. They’d already explained what that word, frater, was, in lessons when they were explaining family connections and titles to help expand on the demigod’s Vastian, so the sisters didn’t think it necessary to translate it.

But when Æros spoke glibly to inquire why the Crown Prince actually came, both sisters looked at him. Lia in askance, Hilana in bemusement. Lia murmured the translation of what the spirit asked of the Crown Prince to Lykos in Common, while Hilana spoke up in the Common tongue as well for Lykos’ sake. “He’s missed my cooking, clearly, Æros,” Hilana’s tone was almost dry, but she was at least making light of such a question. “And he obviously decided he’d best make a long flight to come out here to enjoy it again.” The preparations for all of this made it clear that this visit had been planned for weeks. Hilana also knew that this was the launching ground from which they had done work on the Sceptre, so possibly Arvaelyn had wanted to come and see it up close as well. He was, after all, familiar with the Crown Prince of Kalzasi. Besides, a foreign demigod was worth a look.

“Your Exalted Highness, this is Lykos, Lord of Frost, and my... cousin, Lia. Both of them were instrumental in defeating the enemy at the Crystal Tree when Æros and I traveled beyond the borders a few weeks ago.” Hilana made the introductions, and Lia would bow again. She doubtless knew that Arvaelyn would know something was very different about Lia, but such as it was... Hilana’s story was that she was her cousin from her maternal side, and she was sticking to it.

“Your Exalted Highness,” she murmured, keeping her gaze lowered deferentially, her hands folded in front of her.

[Rickter]

Anxious as he might've been about this whole affair, this proved all the more a real learning experience for Lykos. The fact he would be meeting with royalty very soon both unnerved and excited him, only because he wanted to continually maintain the best impression yet. Of course, the sisters were keen on making him remained himself at all times, but even so, the wolf wanted to set the best example possible as the late Lord of Winter. Yet while the aromatic food tastefully distracted his nostrils, the disturbance within wind currents reached his ears far above in turn. What he looked to see amazed and also terrified him in turn.

Those were wyverns? Judging from the scents that they gave off as they drew near, the wolf could literally smell the pheromones off of them, and they were exceptionally dangerous to the wolf's nose. Still, it rather amused him to see Lana excited to see such fascinating creatures, though, the idea of riding one somewhat horrified him still. He wasn't sure why either, but Lykos did not dwell on it. While the Elementalists did awesome at wavering the rush of wind from the wyvern's wings, the wolf still heard their massive gusts as the first rider came down to land.

Truly, they were impressive marvels to behold, and while the idea made him nervous, Lykos almost wanted to at least pet one of them just once. The fact Aeros was present in another body did not surprise the wolf either, since the specter seemed to enjoy these sorts of social occasions. Lykos could only hope he'd live up to the formality that was expected out of them though, for he obviously had no experiences to recall when it came to such matters. As the scaly beast made it's descent to land, the wolf felt a light tug at his arm, his observant eyes on the sisters before he realized the first queue of the social graces needed to be displayed.

He was nothing if not determined to maintain etiquette here, therefore, bowed his head and upper body forward graciously, pondering if the manner itself had been a common practice within the North. It had felt far too familiar not to be, even so, it had been his first act of respect upon receiving such an esteemed guest. Noticing Hilana's reaction to the Prince and the Sentinel sharing a familial embrace, Lykos couldn't help but ponder if there was something about the action he missed for a moment. Then again, the younger sister knew and seemed rather familiar with the two of them, therefore, it was arguable to say he only observed a simple reaction from Lana.

Once Aeros seemed to take the initiative and approach, however, Lykos looked at the physical avatar the ghost possessed, his eyes a little wider for seeing just how blatantly the man approached. Lia thankfully translated everything he heard, leading the wolf to briefly shake his head in pure astute wonder. Really?! The first thing you do when royalty arrives is to go and just address them so plainly?! Either Aeros really had close affiliations with the two to overlook such boundaries, or he simply had balls of brass for just brazenly approaching in such a manner.

Either way, Lana went on to jib about her cooking skills, to which the wolf quickly agreed, anyone would miss her wonderful meals of unparalleled taste and splendors. Come the time for his own introduction to the Crowned Prince, Lykos stood a little straighter within his shoulders now, determined to look respectfully toward the Prince. Only... he realized that Prince Arvaelyn stood shorter than he did. Not that the wolf wasn't getting accustomed to being as tall as he was around here, but, how does one his size look down at someone of such stature with proper respect?

Oh well, he'd figure it out as he went with it. The moment had finally come when he needed to remember everything he'd been taught, from the articulation of dialect to the arrangement of words themselves. “Salve, Celsitudinus Exaltatus." He greeted a bit strongly with his Northern accent, nonetheless, after another bow of respect to the prince he spoke with a bit more confidence in his tone. “Luvat in occursum adventus tui." A standard greeting to be sure, but to deliver it to such an esteemed visitor made Lykos feel ever the diplomat.

In a way, he was a bit proud to have picked up on what Vastian he could in the time he'd stayed here. He had hoped it would show the Exalted Prince his dedication to learning their culture, and of course, his intention to be a proper guest in their homeland during his stay.

[Arvælyn]

Phocion's shoulders tensed at the sound of Palæmon's voice uttering the cognomen of the prince. Arvælyn turned his furnace-churning eyes toward the figure, and blinked at the sight. He knew it was Æros, of course, but the blend of his cousin's actual features and those of the deceased senator seemed strange to his senses. It had, of course, been strange when Hilana had played host to the ghost, but there was something queerer still about this middle-ground with the horns and the suggestion of his erstwhile celestial skin. Realising he'd paused overlong, he parted his lips to reply but Hilana's joke served to break the tension for him a bit and he chuckled.

"I'll admit I could stand to eat something. I was keen to stretch my wings, despite the greater efficiency of portals, and that was my longest haul to date. Might we indulge before the tour commences?" At the mention of a tour he met Palæmon's eyes, indicated that such was his answer to the question Æros posed.

"Right this way, Exalted Highness." Phocion, for his part, pursed his lips and forced them into a smile to conceal the vexation he felt over this egregious lack of decorum, but it had been the Crown Prince who initiated it with their embrace. Now it seemed the bloody Northerner was the most attentive to Solunarian formalities, executing an appropriate bow and even addressing the prince properly in Vastian. Imperfect Vastian, but Vastian all the same.

As Phocion led Arvælyn toward the spread that had been set up here on the mesa platform, the prince regarded Lykos and spoke to him in Common.

"Your accent is Kalzasern," He'd been better briefed than he was letting on, "How strange that I should never have met nor heard of you during my time living there. Your ilk are difficult to miss, when they aren't making a point of being furtive... as Arcas learned when he first visited Solunarium." He turned his gaze from the Northerner to the buffet table and considered his options.

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: -
NOTES: -

- - -

- - -

Æros needn’t rely on the use of Mesmer to discern Phocion’s rather pointed displeasure regarding the overall lack of decorum. Though it did help– through a quirk, his perception when it came to reading people was improved even without the ability to read the man’s very concealed Symphony. Nevertheless, his particular drop in decorum was a risk, however reckless, and it was one taken for his own amusement, at that. He’d succeeded; poking at Phocion was the point. He only cared about Arvælyn’s reaction, and the half-dragon, at least, was not a poor sport about it. Funnier still, it would appear Lykos’ attentiveness only served to further ruffle the sentinel’s feathers.

But of his own amusement Æros would not express. Rather, he’d nod in acknowledgment to the words of the princeps, remaining fairly blithe in attitude. “Learning to fly with newfound wings must be fascinating– and exhilarating, no? I can certainly see the appeal of that over portals,” he’d reply.

While Æros could tell from the reception of both Arvælyn and Hilana, at least, in terms of their expressions, that they found his current form uncanny, the spectre would act as if naught was amiss. Perhaps this was a coping mechanism, perhaps it was something else– nevertheless, he had little desire to outwardly acknowledge reminders of the strangeness of his condition.

However, when the princeps was led over to the buffet table, Æros would move only enough to stay within reasonable range for conversation. His perception of eating had shifted entirely in the span of a few days, this being the third individual he’d possessed. He genuinely couldn’t tell simply by looking what on that table would even taste good to him, as the servus he’d possessed the day before when he’d met with Lykos had vastly different tastes than Hilana, both of whom differed from what he’d had in life. While he definitely wanted the indulgence of fine food, he’d hesitate, for the moment, trying to remember what Palæmon’s tastes were.

Arvælyn’s words surprised him, pulling him from his thoughts. Æros had genuinely hoped that the royal would look upon the Lord of Frost and have some semblance of recognition– that would’ve certainly been helpful, given his experience being raised in Kalzasi…but alas, no. The deceased patrician wouldn’t say anything, though, wanting to see what the wolf-like man would say.

- - -

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Hilana Chenzira]

The sisters were rather pleased with Lykos’ greeting. That went about as well as it could have, and their student was definitely hard at work learning more about the language and etiquette. Hilana had gotten the crash course a few years back, and Lia, well, she had far more experience than her sister did... though she had far less experience with those of Royal houses. All the same, tradition and rules made things flow smoothly. If one knew what to do, then it was a lot smoother sailing. Knowing the customs meant having a blueprint of the rules of engagement and appropriateness, and that was a measure of safety in and of itself.

One did not want to visit the College of Compliance for social disasters, though it amazed her at some level Hilana had not yet been hauled through those gates. Lia murmured the translation for Lykos again, but once the half-dragon Prince switched to Common, she didn’t need to translate further.

Hilana did pat Lykos’ arm approvingly and encouragingly when he’d finished his address, as if to tell him he had done well. She was all too happy for them to hit the buffet first; there had been a fair bit of collaboration between herself and the servii on the menus, and while they’d done their bit and Hilana had done hers, the food was as it should be. There was a considerable array of comestibles, from more delicate canapes and elaborate displays of fresh fruit to carefully carved and shaped roast beasts, from pasture-raised lamb and beef to wild game like sandcock and antelope. Baklava, melopita, fruit pies of all shapes and sizes, along with a number of different types of cookies, some of which Arvaelyn may have recognized from the first day that he and Hilana had met and they’d had a nice chat in the tea shop of the Forum in Ash.

The girl did want to ask a dozen questions about his wings - was it difficult, was he enjoying the learning process, did he find it exhausting, how often did he practice, did he fly the entire way there or part of it and part on a wyvern’s back... but she refrained. She was not oblivious to the fact that she owed a great deal of the privileges that she did to the Sentinels, and while much of it had to do with regards to the divine quest given to her by the Founders, Hilana was not keen to vex Prince Phocion beyond that what she already had. And opening her mouth and inserting her foot was one way of doing it, especially after Æros’ wanton disregard for formality.

At Arvaelyn’s mention of not having known or met Lykos in the past, even now after looking him over and doubtless scrutinizing him with his Craft confirmed for Hilana that what Myshala had taken from him was not just his own memories, but the memory of anyone who had ever interacted with him. His influence, knowledge of him, and everything that accompanied it was gone. Finn hadn’t recognized him, though he’d said he’d felt something, so it was as she thought. May have had a connection somewhere that was long since forgotten, but with his accent being confirmed as Kalzasern, that helped narrow things down for her. A promise was a promise, and Hilana would find Lykos’ people. She owed him, and she was going to make sure she made good on that debt.

Only once Arvaelyn took his initial samplings, and Phocion if he bothered with any of the food - Hilana so hoped he would - did Hilana and Lia nudge Lykos to help himself and get started with his plate. The women would pick out some to eat, while the smaller steely python started to leave Hilana’s bun to make her way down to rest on top of Tiaz, who in fine form, completely content where he was and utterly unbothered by the lightly flowing scarf that Hilana had draped across her person. He’d hidden under them before in Tertium, and now, well... He didn’t have a reason to bite, not today.

Lia, on the other hand, had a hard time getting over the fact that Arcas visited Solunarium, despite Hilana’s reassurances that he was allowed there and stayed where they were as a guest of the Umbrian Crown. He had made his peace with the Founders, and that meant that the old issues were considered settled. At least, for now.

[Rickter]

For Lykos it was a bit astonishing to see that the Crowned Prince had not reprimanded the specter for his behavior, nor did his fellow brethren the silver Sentinel who likely expected such decorum. Aeros' lack of etiquette aside, the wolf did his absolute best to deliver on his part, understanding that the North's accent remained difficult to cover up fully. Regardless, the dialect was practiced and well versed, maybe not so perfectly, but enough to leave Lykos content when he'd expressed his greetings to the Exalted Prince himself.

Arvaelyn was an impressive man to behold nonetheless, clearly a Draconic descendant from the wings he carried at his back. The wolf could only imagine the wealth of power at this man's disposal, if he already had an entire kingdom under his domain. What that could entail for Lykos down the road? It was anybody's guess, but being Lord of Frost had to mean something, to himself and to those who might one day understand Him as a being. It also helped that Lana and Lia were certainly pleased with him, providing him with a couple of gentle pats on the forearm after he succeeded with the greeting.

Were he in Lycan form the bushy wolf tail he'd possess would've swept frantically through the air. Likely giving away the enthusiasm and joy he felt in receiving their silent praise, though, when it seemed that the Prince himself was keen to address him; Lykos developed a tad bit of a timid expression in turn. He wasn't accustomed to meeting royalty just yet, and doing so now, he clearly had yet to possess the full confidence others might when in the presence of one. He was thankful that Lia would translate the conversations for him, of course, but having been addressed in Common by the Prince left the wolf nearly speechless at first.

Kalzasern?... The word resounded in his mind like a hollow and empty thought, bearing no sense of familiarity no matter how hard he tried. "Anata wa shusshin-" He didn't realize how quickly he'd deflected back to his native language, and how natural it flowed from the tongue the moment he started to speak it. "Er... Forgive me, majesty. You know of the North then?" It was an honest and yet earnest inquiry on behalf of Arvaelyn, the wolf almost desperate to understand what he could of his own homeland.

He hadn't the slightest clue where "Kalzasern" might reside if that were the name of such a place, however, he did look to Hilana with a guessable glance before reading into her expression. Clearly, she knew the reference better than he did, which meant that in a roundabout way, she likely had a clue that led him a little closer to home as a result. There was hope yet. Even so, he did not wish to leave the Exalted Prince with little to go on, particularly, when he felt the man deserved to know at least a little bit about himself. "I only know that I am from there... Unfortunately, my lack of memory has hindered any opportunity to discern whereupon my home is."

He certainly didn't know if that would be disappointing or not, having never tried to appeal to royalty in the short time he'd arrived in Solunarium. The wolf wanted to deliver the best first impression he could possibly give, and while he felt he was off to a good start, the lackluster behind his history certainly didn't add to it. He watched and waited though as the royals were the first to garner their pick of the meal, and when Lana indicated that his turn had finally came, Lykos gave her a gentle smile before falling in suit to fill his plate with share as well. Obviously, he found preference in the meaty game that was present, from the lamb and antelope portions available, to even some of the fruits that were served on a platter.

Once he'd gotten his pick of the feast present, he glanced to Lana and Lia once more, keen to stick a little close to them after they had gathered their share in turn. Of course, he was still rather attentive of their guests, as Lykos wanted Arvaelyn and Phocion to both feel that they had his undivided attention whenever need be.