"Your Majesty," Merlin bowed, before striding towards the throne, "I heard there was a matter of importance. Be it mild or urgent, I'm here to donate my aid." The servant smiled, humbly, his features soft, his eyes reflecting his spirit; he was missing something. Someone. But then again, all citizens of Camelot were. There King was gone.

The Countess observed this female donned in the sort of gowns The Countess would heap coins upon and seamstresses for every hour to construct the frame and line. She held her own gown well as her hands caressed over her youthful form, yet, her eyes lingered on this female. "What name do you hold and from whom did you acquire the beautiful gown?"," she questioned, pondering now if this female held threads to humans and was a virgin. No matter the human, The Countess was famished for virginal blood.