joyous royal.

Hello! Here's some preliminary info on Céline.

Second child to Queen Ève and first princess of Firene, Céline has come to Garreg Mach to further her education as a royal, intrigued by what she's heard of the institution from her chats with Emblems Byleth and Edelgard (something canonically touched on in their Bond supports.)

Nobles and royal heirs from differing lands coming together to bond and learn from one another is a fascinating concept for her, and she's curious about such a social experiment, as well as what she and Firene could possibly gain from it.

So do come say hi. She'll have a lovely pot of tea prepared for you~

Thread Tracker / (Temp) Ball Tracker

(Mun guidelines below the cut!)

Total Skill Points: 6 → 7

[Monthly Point]: +1 point allocated to Faith ( Faith: D+ )

"If the tea bags are not to your preference, perhaps you might like to try my blend? It is a lovely marriage of black tea and jasmine."

Céline sips at her teacup, fingers delicately pinched about the handle—the scent of jasmine petals mingle with the flowers on the other girl's dress in a such a way that reminded her of a spring meadow.

"Oh, dear!"

Céline's hand stills at the warning, halfway in the process of reaching for one of the dimly lit mints piled in the bowl. She hadn't even considered the possibility that there would be fake ones.

And yet—

She picks one up, holding it up to her nose. A few sniffs, and—hm. Ah. Indeed.

"You're right..." Céline sets the fake candy down, turning to the man who so helpfully warned her. "It doesn't have the usual menthol scent of mint. Certainly similar, but not quite. There's a bit of an off twang to it..."

She smiles, "Thank you, good sir. It seems you've saved me from quite the faux pas. I do hope you didn't know of this from prior experiences...?"

"Ah, Divine One. A good evening to you, as well."

Céline wouldn't be herself if she hadn't caught at least a few of the whispers floating about the ballroom. Something about two women getting into a tussle, both with two-toned hair... but whatever her concerns, it was something Alear seemed to have no intention to delve into, and so Firene's princess leaves her questions unasked.

"Nonsense! All flowers are beautiful, especially one from you." Céline accepts the lily graciously, whilst offering a yellow one of her own. "And a dance sounds lovely—I need to move around a bit after this tea break."

"These are fairly good options for those mindful of their budget."

Céline surveys the offered selection of teas thoughtfully, having already sampled each blend after arriving at the monastery. Of course, some teas tasted better than others. And some were obviously higher in quality...

But there wasn't anything necessarily wrong with simple.

(Alas, she did wish these were loose leaf rather than tea bags, though.)

"You know, I learned to make an herbal tea from Lapis once, using simple foraging ingredients." She giggles, "It had a rather unique taste, but was no less delightful than the high-end blends I've had."

Because it had been a taste of Lapis's culture, and her experience. Experiences that Céline wished to better understand, as one meant to protect the common people.

"Mm. But I would love to have some of those leaves from the Brodian highlands again. Remember? The ones you gave me to aid in my sleep."

Mercy has been shown to many of their enemies in the past. Queen Ivy and Princess Hortensia. Lady Veyle. Mauvier. Mercy is kindness. It is compassion. Mercy is peace.

When she lays her eyes on this woman, Céline feels anything but.

Where had that mercy been for the people of Florra? As they screamed and wailed, trapped in fire. As they desperately ran from their burning homes, only to be cut down by an Elusian soldier's lance, the rusted blade of a Corrupted, or Zephia and her Hounds?

Men, women, children...

None had been spared. If one did not lose their life, then they lost a relative, a friend, a loved one—they lost their spirit. She cannot count the number of pleas or complaints sent to the castle in the aftermath, either begging for help or cursing the ineptitude of the knights and royalty. The callousness of the Divine Dragon that should have protected all.

(She has never told the Divine One of this.)

Zephia speaks as if it is merely in the past, a memory left to fade and a scar long healed. It is not. For as long as Céline carried this love for her homeland, it would never be.

Firene's princess watches the Mage Dragon with a blank expression, giving her prettied (and obnoxiously emphasized) words nothing but a light scoff in response. Though she takes the orchid, she does not offer her own flower. Zephia could make her gestures, play her games. Céline had no interest in entertaining them.

"That shouldn't be an issue," she twirls the stem between her fingers, turning on her heel, "for there is nothing here to burn." Not a relationship, nor a truce. Certainly not any agreement.

And with that, Céline takes her leave.

Céline is left slightly breathless by the energy required by the traditional Lythian dance, only ever really seeing it performed by clerics during the rare celebrations held in the Holy Land, as well as certain Firenese festivals.

As such, she is most familiar with the steps that reflect the dance trends from her country... though the power of Brodia, the laxity of Solm, and the solemn restraint of Elusia were more difficult to grasp. The girl next to her seemed to be handling herself well enough, though—so much so that she's still able to carry on conversation, leaving the princess to offer a bit of a sheepish laugh.

Another chassé, and she lifts her arms overhead in fifth position: a gesture meant to symbolize reverence for the Divine Dragons, and the blessed sky.

"If you have time after the dance," Céline bows and extends her arms in time with the music, taking that moment to pluck a yellow lily from her own bouquet, "I would be delighted to explain each flower. For now, would you be partial to a lily?"

She straightens, offering said flower to her, "Yellow. My gratitude for your company, joy in your interest, and hopes for a new friendship."

What a beautiful person.

Like tea and honey, Adrestia's waltz made a lovely pair to the nobility this man carried himself with. He looked the part of a classic royal: the soft furs of his cape, a perfectly pressed suit of royal blue, shimmering underneath the ballroom lights. The violins swelled in full force; to twirl and sway in his hold made her feel like the quintessential princess from her childhood storybooks, a rare thought of fancy she didn't mind entertaining.

But as the music comes to an end, Céline clasping his hand and extending her opposite arm to mimic a bird's wings, the excitement of the dance fades. In its wake, the sobering weight of reality is left to set in.

Letting his hand go, Firene's princess lifts her skirts for a curtsy. "Thank you kindly for the wonderful dance—might I offer you this lily, in gratitude?"

A small note!

The night had been a busy one, so Céline found it imperative to take breaks in between the conversation and dancing. (And to rest her feet, fatigued as they were walking about in these heels—of course, a Firenese lady was taught to never admit as such.)

And for her, what better way to unwind than with a cup of tea? In matching with the night's floral theme, she had requested the kitchen to brew her blend of black tea and jasmine petals. Though normally paired with the green teas of the east, combining its sweet, floral notes with the earthiness of black tea created a most bold flavor—and a strong, delectable aroma as well.

Add in a drop of honey, and she was truly in paradise.

Perhaps it was the scent that attracted this gentleman, his praise for her tea and offering of gifts bringing a smile to the princess's face. She could always appreciate a fellow tea connoisseur.

"Oh, my! Mint is the perfect palate cleanser. I take it you're no stranger to tea, then... please, have my lily as a thank you."

She sets her cup down, replacing it for the flower that she then offers him. "I procured this particular tea blend from a friend: a pairing of black tea leaves and jasmine petals. I only wish it were the night-blooming jasmine I heard of once; I would be curious to taste the differences."

Even now, she thinks to the Nohrian blend Emblem Camilla once told her of.