#regalia-solvieg

The streets of Motostoke were bustling with the energy of the imminent holiday. People going about with the last minute preparations and stringing up the colorful trappings and garlands of flowers. That did not mean that they didn't stop and give way as a Foreign Royal procession came through.

@regalia-solvieg

To Her Majesty, Queen Chiyo Solvieg of Galar.

It has been some time since our last correspondence, I express my sincerest apologies in this remission. Do not worry, all is well in my Kingdom. Things have merely been hectic with the birth of my new royal niece and nephew. Little prince Atlas and Princess Averie are keeping us all on our toes.

But how is Galar? How are You, Ulric, and the children? Has there been any news about Wren and what happened to her?

Once again, I must apologize, for I am writing this from an Inn in Hulbury. Having decided that a visit was overdue I set out with my personal guard. We should reach your city within a fortnight. With the intention to stay as your Royal guest for a month if such plans are agreeable.

I have missed you much my dear cousin.

@regalia-solvieg

@rune-pokemon

She stood just out of the light of the fairgrounds. Cloak about her and a fairly decent disguise on. Only some very sensitive psychics would be able to see through it if they wanted. But as far as Aria knew, Stasi was not here. It all was truly some simple changes that to humans was more than enough. It had been a long time since she'd used her Pirouette form for anything other than warfare... and even longer since anyone had seen her face unmarred by the patch that covered her damaged left eye. The simple glamour she put on was a little jarring to herself. Seeing a face in the mirror she hadn't seen in a long time. Seems her trip to see her cousin this year was dredging up ghosts everywhere.

It was that time of the year, Motostoke’s festival celebrating the end of the war that had previously split Galar (though, some from the North would say it still did). The streets were filled with people celebrating, with stalls spread about selling food, drink, and other wares.

This celebration was also the best time of year for nobles to ask the king for favors, something Otis was keen to attempt to take advantage of. Leading an old mudsdale through the crowds, the plainly-dressed lord made his way to the castle. A trio of weavile, Otis’s hunting party, patiently sat of the steed’s back, looking hungrily at the passing food stalls.