simmer down

❝     if   the   guards   are   to   be   believed   ,   majesty   ,   one   of   our   own   is   a   murderer      .      ❞      still   ,   dreadful   etiquette   their   hosts   had   .   should   guests   not   be   allowed   haven   upon   arrival   ?   even   with   such   nasty   business   .   ❝      my   belongings   were   searched   with   haste   upon   my   arrival   ,   all   down   to   the   smallest   of   trunks  .      ❞  

Adela’s eyes flashed. “And what reason have we to poison a noble from Aryndale? As our own nation is ripped in two?” She hissed under her breath. She took in a deep breath to calm herself and met Loras’s eyes. “We must all remain entirely above reproach now. All of us will be watched,” she warned in a low voice. “Please, don’t give anyone reason to suspect you of anything until we have an opportunity to clean up this mess.”

It was QUITE late into the night when the doors to his chambers slammed open. Amos frowned at the loud noise that disrupted him from his wine and the music playing in his head and sat up from his where he was lounging on the chaise lounge, about to reprimand the guards when he saw instead, the familiar face of his WIFE.

He tilted his head, and stared at her for a second, before inquiring, “Adela ? Is something wrong ?”

Placing the wine glass on the table, he stood up, staggering a bit on his first few steps. His mobility had been slightly compromised, though he shall never admit it, from the late night drinking he had partaken in all by himself. Then, making his way towards her, placed a hand on the small of her back and brushed strands of dark hair out of her face, “Did something happen ? You look…pale.” 

Amos was rarely the somber type, as his childhood friend often pointed, rather angrily might he add. Yet seeing Adela so deeply perturbed made him shed some of his facade, though not enough to completely shake him out of his stupor.  (   @adelaofnabar​   )  

Adela hadn’t meant to startle her husband by banging door the open quite as loudly as she had. She ignored the way he stumbled as he stood, much as she always ignored it. It didn’t matter - Certainly not tonight. As he brushed the hair from her face she became aware that she was shaking, experiencing a rare slip in her composure.

She stared hard at the floor as she collected herself, noticing the stain at her hem from where she dropped her wine at the news of the poisoning. In this light it looked bloody on the green of her skirts. 

“One of the men from Aryndale was poisoned,” she said, voice soft, finally looking up at him and leaning into his touch. “And I... I couldn’t find you in the chaos of the hall.” She willed her voice not to tremble with her body. “I was frightened that you...” Adela’s voice trailed off. She didn’t even want to say it. I was frightened that you were dead, she thought, shutting her eyes against the sting of tears. I was frightened that you had left me to fight alone.

@imperialstarters​​      /      ❝     you’ll   excuse   my   tiredness      .      ❞      cigar   lifted   to   lips   ,   a   deep   inhale   following   his   words   .   he’d   not   been   there   a   day   and   yet   he   was   already   in   dire   need   of   something   stronger   .  ❝      the   journey   was   long   and   turbulent  .   and   i   arrived   just   to   be   accosted   like   a   common   thief   .      ❞  

Adela pursed her lips, a frown marring her features. While Loras may be among the more interesting men who occupied her court, she couldn’t believe he’d done anything to be accosted for. Not so soon after arriving, at least. “Whatever could you mean?” she asked sharply, ready to come to his defense if need be. He was, after all, one of her husband’s loyal subjects, and therefore her responsibility.

adela bastos : trait inspiration

“But easily found if willing to push the right buttons.” Which usually meant unhappy methods of apothecaries near them. But Ronan would be willing to do it. “You have to buy your ingredients for poison unless you’re an alchemist yourself. Poison usually leaves a trail.” 

Adela sagged against the wall near her for a moment, the stress of the night briefly overcoming her. But she raised herself back up again, hands firmly clasped in front of her. “Then hopefully someone will be able to follow the trail,” she said, her tone somewhat clipped. 

“Poison?” He looked at the goblet in his hand, the music had stopped now and people were talking amongst themselves, gathered. He supposed he should find Henry but he was still standing where he’d been when he heard the news. Aryndale was an ally, he knew the man that had been killed but he was only happy it wasn’t anyone from Antegra. Maybe it made him selfish but Ronan was already accustomed to the idea. “A weak weapon if you ask me.” he spoke again, “But no one really did, did they?”

Adela’s head snapped up. The goblet she was holding slipped from her fingers, red wine spreading on the floor and soaking the hem of her dress. She stood abruptly. “I don’t think the strength of the weapon matters, as it was clearly effective,” she said, swaying on her feet. They’d all been drinking and eating whatever was handed to them all night. 

She glanced up as a shadow darkened her view. Adela flicked her eyes up and slipped her feet back into her slippers as she said, “I’m so sorry. Would you like this seat?” 

Anastasia hadn’t initially planned to attend the ball, the idea of being surrounded by so many people hadn’t appealed in the slightest. But she came around anyway loitering to the side away from anyone that could possibly have a problem with her. She couldn’t deny that she soon began to enjoy herself, the music, wine and dancing may have helped with that. She still jumped when someone sat next to her though, showing she hadn’t settled fully yet.

“Can I help you?”

Adela had spent the better part of her evening dancing and now she was overheated and thirsty and her feet were starting to blister in her shoes. She smiled politely at her partner and excused herself for a goblet of wine and a seat on one of the long benches that lined the walls. She glanced over at the woman next to her when she jumped, lifting one eyebrow for the briefest of moments. 

“Oh, no,” she said with a huff of laughter. “I just needed to rest. Are you enjoying the festivities?”

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬  :  open  !   𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧  :  ballroom  !     𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝  :   @imperialstarters​  !

                               𝐬𝐨     𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬     𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞     𝐡𝐚𝐝     been     one     too     many     cups     of     wine     drunk     already     ,     it     settled     in     her     stomach     as     she     twirled     around     the     room     effortlessly     ,     without     the     accompaniment     of     any     other     but     herself     and     the     chalice     in     her     grip     .     lips     the     colour     of     mulled     wines     smiled     as     she     laughed     and     eyes     the     colour     of     a     sunlit     sky     sparkled     with     something     you     could     only     call     mischief     ,     free     from     her     duties     in     favour     of     the     welcome     ball     ,     the     lady     in     waiting     grinned     as     she     latched     a     grip     onto     the     elbow     of     another     lightly     .     ❝                  you     look     entirely     too     bored     for     my     taste     ,     dance     with     me     .     ❞     her     tone     is     laced     with     a     demand     that     only     she     can     give     ,     with     a     sweet     ,     albeit     slightly     drunken     smile     towards     the     other     .     ❝     i     promise     you’ll     ahave     fun     .     ❞     she     declares     .

Adela started when a hand grabbed her elbow. She had lost her husband in the crowd and was turning in a lazy circle to try to spot him. When she realized what the other woman was saying, she stiffened slightly. A thin smile stretched across her lips.

“Ah, my lady,” she said gently, “There are many young men here who could surely dance with you better than I.”

natalie portman, thirty, south nabar, cisfemale. ––– i believe that is adela bastos, the queen of south nabar. they are thirty years old and are known to be ambitious & clever, though they can also be very haughty & stubborn. they remind me of unbending steel; the sun reflecting off the ocean; the rustle of satin and pages turning; a smile no one else sees.