(1310-07-16) Intervention
Summary: An intervention for Roland, or a pleasant gathering organized by Jacqueline involving family and friends. You decide!
RL Date: Mon Jul 16, 1310
Related: None
ligeia arsene jacqueline roland chloe jean 

Garden — Aiglemort Residence

High walls stand protective vigil around the gardens that flank the house, though from the inside looking outward they are half-hidden behind orange and cherry trees and cultivated honeysuckle vines that take turns filling the air with delicate fragrance. Much of the area is mere greensward, flagstone paths traversing it at various angles whose complex pattern is meant to be appreciated from the townhouse's upper balconies. Raised beds are regularly placed, regularly spaced, mingling a combination of ornamental plants with herbs and edibles, joining the form of a noble pleasure garden with the function of an expansive kitchen's demands.

The southern side of the house is dominated by a terrace that runs its entire face. Access to the house can be had there through various sets of doors, while shade is abundant under the combination of lush, flowering vines and sheer fabrics adorning the massive pergola sheltering it. Stone urns overflow with flowers, spilling down two steps to a ground level version commonly used for martial practice.


As befits a future sovereign Duchess, Jacqueline has extended very gracious, open invitations to those Camaelines residing in the city to visit the d'Aiglemort townhouse as often as they please. It helps perhaps that quite a few of them already reside in the house, but there are others who do not that she encourages as often as possible. As tonight, when more specific invitations were sent out to a select handful of nobles in the city for what was described as an idle evening in the gardens. Because it is. As the sun sinks down enough that some shade spills across the yard, it is cool enough to sit out of doors, where the terraces are set for company. Several small round tables are arranged in a loose arc beneath the pergola, decked out in white linens and large arrangements of colorful flowers that nearly bisect each table, though are low enough that people sitting on either side can make easy conversation. She's hired musicians to fill the night up with soft stringed melodies, and the servants are out and about in black livery and white gloves with trays of chilled wine and finger foods, both local and Camaeline. The lower terrace is blocked out in low-lying lamps, which will illuminate the tiles better as the night grows darker.

Jacqueline herself is easily spotted. She has a chair positioned where she can see everything easily, where she can oversee without necessarily having to get up. Her gown is bright red, perhaps a nod to her husband's house colors, softened up by ivory panes and silver netting. Dark hair is worn in a wreath of sorts from which a few curls escape, artful ones mimicking the ruby anemones and pearl snowdrops pinned into the plaits.

Arsène arrives as invited, clad as is his habit in darker hues recalling the coming knight, though there are no stars to be found in his garnments. Ever accompanied by his longsword tied to his belt, he offers a growingly familiar sight to the inhabitants of Marsilikos, and more specifically, Jacqueline and her guests when he steps into the gardens. "Cousin, radiant as always." he says, coming to greet the hostess with a smooth, gallant bow. How polite! "I hope you've been well, since the palace. Is the rest of the family to be here?" he asks, smiling. Apparently he's in a good mood.

Jean has arrived.

"Well, I would not necessarily say it was my fault. I was only the encouragement…" Ligeia drawls to her guard as she enters, words trailing off as her smirk ebbs into a radiant smile. "Jacqueline! A pleasure, darling. Thank you for the invitation..I do hope we can make up for the lost and wasted time we missed one another with my early departure the other evening? Though, we did both escape a dance with my clumsy cousin. Think of the bruised toes…" A pale hand is placed against her cheek like a Lady properly and thoroughly scandalized. "Perish the thought." she bemoans with a soft laugh. The Basilisque is dressed in a gown of deep emerald this evening, cap sleeved for once to allow her arms to be bare - though the voluminous skirts maintain some modesty even if the fitted bodice does not. Dark hair is covered as always beneathe a veil held back by a half-crescent headpiece, always as richly embroidered as her gowns.

He's a newcomer to this whole thing here but there is a Jean L'Envers at the Aiglemort Residence. Quelle surprise. The Namarrese is dressed in a black doublet with a matching pair of black silken trousers, a sword sheathed at his side, the hilt's leather faded, well-worn; the pommel has a ruby set on the wings of an angel that wind around it.

It would be guests that appear first. No matter. Jacqueline rises carefully. A bit stiffly perhaps, if one were to be completely honest, with the brittle grace of someone who has learned to disguise weakness under deliberate motion. She is all smiles though, a thousand candles of brilliance coming on with flawless ease as first Arsène, then Ligeia and her guard are led into the garden. "Cousin, dearest to my heart, I feared you might decide to forsake us this eve. I have been well, thank you, and they should be here, sooner or later." And, "Ligeia. It is so lovely to see you somewhere where we might actually be able to talk. Her Grace's ball was lovely but the crowd grew so tiresome." And lo, there is Jean, recipient of all of this welcoming as well. "And Lord l'Envers as well. Let us hope the gossipmongers do not presume we are planning something."

"Nonesense, cousin. I had neither duel to fight nor woman pining for me to attend to, and it has been too long since I've enjoyed such gathering." Arsène answers Jacqueline, before turning his dark gaze to Ligeia. "Bardling. As ever." The greeting is given with a smirk, amused, and not altogether unhappy to see her there. It must be a ploy. And then Jean comes in too! "My Lord, a pleasant surprise to see you here." he likewise greets. "It must be the third time we've seen each other. At this rate I've seen you more than other Trevalion." he remarks.

"Presume? It should always be that you are planning something." Ligeia asides to Jacqueline as she gives Jean the once over. She pauses, twisting her lips in thought before nodding once. "Lady Ligeia de Basilisque." she introduces with a dip of curtsey and then continues, "Her Grace's ball was lovely, the wine though I sadly only imbibed the one. Such a lush." The jovial curl of her lips reserved for the other lady shifts ever so slightly, one corner quirking to lend her pale features an impish cast. "Duelist, as always." Arsene is not awarded a curtsey, but he does get a nod.

The rumors started earlier in the day. Servants whispering about the young betrothed couple, Roland d'Aiglemort and Chloe de Basilisque. Constant bickering since their arrival has provided the house staff with much entertainment. There is even a rumor that some sort of betting pool is taking place. They say the young Roland was entertaining some other woman amidst the tall grass when the Vicomtesse de Crouzet stumbled upon them. She nearly fell on top of the duo almost making it a threesome! But something happened some argument erupted and the other woman fled the scene. The couple spares no expense at the level of insults they hurl at one another. There might have also been a flying tea cup the other morning.

The most recent rumor is how the young noblewoman confessed to never partaking in an assignation before but was certainly going to a Mandrake! Clearly this was meant to get at Roland's goat and it seems like it did. He started moving his belongings out from their shared room. They say they argued the entire way up the stairs but the most curious thing is no one has seen them all day today. Heard them? indeed. More crying, more screaming, more broken glass. The servants are taking lofty bets now when suddenly, the sound of one disgusted Chloe echoes in the halls and a slam of the bedroom door makes it all the way to the garden. She is attempting to compose herself the entire way towards the gardens and while she appears flawless in mint green, her hair in place and her jewelry simple yet elegant, her cheeks are flushed. Anger or something else? It is difficult to decipher. Hands smooth down the front of her bodice and skirts prior to crossing the threshold to the gathering in the gardens. "Good evening." Chloe curtsies to all and greets Jacqueline personally. "My lady, forgive my tardiness."

Oh Roland is a loud one, certainly. Eventually Jacqueline is going to have to summon some of the guards to put him in line. If he isn't training in the courtyard, he is goading and seeming to ratchet up the animosity with Chloe at every chance she gets. Opposites attract. Sometimes. Othertimes they just eventually kill each other. Roland follows soon after, a simple shirt and vest in Camlach colors. "You're ridiculous. I knew you didn't go to the damned Night Court!" hes shouting after her as hes working on a shoe and comes entering the garden by kicking his other shoe on and looking up at seeing everyone present. "OH I SEE! AN INTERVENTION IS IT!?" Roland declares, accusation levied at his future wife to be.

"Vicomtesse de Crouzet, a pleasure to see you again." Arsène grins when Chloe makes her entrance. "My other cousin's intended. Or is it anymore? Do please clarify whether you're now free to pursue." It's unclear whether the man is serious or not, though the amusement in his black eyes is evident. He says that, of course, when Roland is there. "Or perhaps you'd like to clarify matters yourself, good cousin? Though I dearly hope I've not been invited to such an… intervention, as Roland called it. It's really not my forte." He glances to Ligeia, inquiring. "Perhaps you'd care to make use of your gentle tongue and heal all breaches within the couple?" Oh the sarcasm, it is so present as to have a life of its own. He also looks on the edge of outright laughter.

"Better they think we're up to something when we aren't; then, it'll inure them when we /are/ up to something," Jean quips somewhat mischievously to Jacqueline, offering nods to each Camaeline subject of the heiress to the Duchy, focusing on them for a long, almost unsettling moment. Ligeia, particularly, earns his attention. "Jean Shahrizai de L'Envers, Vicomte de Tonnere." With a bright smile to the woman, then, and a dip of his chin to both her and Arsene, he says, to the latter, "Likewise, my Lord. It has been far too long, even if that's just been a few weeks. After all, I endeavor to make a good friend out of you, yet! Our interests align, I do think."

The Bard has found some imaginary dirt under her nails entirely fascinating as the sounds traveled down the hallway, the din of the argument reaching the gathering until the sources made their argumentatively (Chloe is at least fashionable) late appearance. Ligeia seems entirely oblivious to the going ons of her cousin and her betrothed, that is until Arsene comes in with assist and gives her no other option but to comment upon it. "Yes, darling. It -is- an intervention. I would be a poor cousin indeed if I did not listen and do my research on someone to marry my darling, beloved Chloe. I've heard the rumors and deem them to be true - you make love as you eat, with a great deal of noise and no subtlety. A lack of cunning we could manage, but a limp gimp? Never. My darling, you must simply learn to rise to the occasion"

With his shoes now firmly upon his feet, Roland takes a moment to button up his shirt and vest, glaring at Chloe and waiting for the daggers to come out. Clearly an intervention is a Camlach family assassination. Ment to take out the weak ones and the ones who will endanger Camlach. Or some such. Arsene would be perfect for it. "Watch it Cousin. Shes still mine." He uses the word 'Mine'. He seems rather possessive of this woman who drives him into a rage and whom he seems to annoy to no end. "If I had a glove I would waggle it at you to get you all aroused and then toss it off somewhere." he states to the duelist, and then Ligeia gets his ire. He peers at her for a long moment. Listening to her words. Processing them. "I'll pass. Maybe later." Clearly he has taken her words at some kind of proposition. "I rise when I want to."

"Perhaps over drinks some evening, and we can discuss in various depths over everything and nothing. Is there any good place you know personally would offer something suitable?" Arsène tells, and asks, Jean with a smile, his good mood upheld. As to the Ligeia's answer… Well, that does it. Arsène laughs, and does so with such mirth. "Just what I hoped to hear! Bravo, my congratulations, dear bardling, for such a performance." And only then does he address Roland, arching a brow. "Once again, cousin, I must inform you that as much as I enjoy your little adventures and the chaos they bring, I am not interested in you in such a way, and never shall. Please return your attentions upon your intended." He smiles, pleasantly, as one should to family. Perhaps with a tad bit too much mocking amusement.

Chloe blinks a few times, expressionless over the delicate canvass of her face. She hears Roland, he's difficult to completely block out yet she ignores him and the ridiculous idea this is an intervention. He's so dumb. Yes, her exhausted blinking eyes say all of this. Obviously. "Dear Vicomte de Dreux, while it is easy to see good looks runs in the family, I would rather stab myself in the eye than to be courted by another male who shares Roland's blood. No offense. You are quite lovely." If people are greeting one another with kisses to either cheek, Chloe purposely avoids it. She fakes the gesture and exaggerated how far her head turns to one side then the other so they don't actually touch her. Perhaps it's her obsessive compulsive disorder. Perhaps it's Roland. What she does do next is a smart move. A glass of wine is snatched from a passing tray and while Ligeia blathers about sex and food, Chloe drinks.

Whatever nice polite things Jacqueline may've been about to say are temporarily suspended as this tempest in a teapot comes whirling out into the gardens. She turns about to study Chloe and then Roland in turn, her smile having settled into portrait perfect serenity. Dark eyes watch the pair of them from beneath the somnolent weight of dark lashes, and her hands draw together in front of her, clasping a bone-bladed fan of red silk and black lace. She gives them, both of them, a minute to compose themselves, and one certainly passes the test. The other though… "Roland." She only says his name, leaves it hanging in the air for a beat like a single chord plucked on a harp string. "Now please. Find yourselves drinks. Make yourselves comfortable. As our sweet Basilisque has so keenly deduced there is some method to my madness here but this ought be considered naught but dinner on a summer's eve. I am still keen to see you start something of a duelist's club, and in fact we have the space for it, but now is not the time."

Ligeia bows with a flourish to Arsene, the curtsey a caricature, the sweep of the elegant pale arm too drawn out to be serious. "Oh, darling Duelist, I do so live to please you and only you." If glares were daggers, Arsene and Roland would look as a pair of pincushions right now - enough to rival the city's armory even. It is a show after all, the entrance of the betrothed couple has dictated it so, so perform the Bard must. "Shall I pirouette next? Oh, I can sing." While there is venom in her smile, a hint of amusement dances in her dark eyes. As for the proposition, she simply arches a brow and sees to some wine.

Chloe's response brings even more mirth to Arsène, and he bows. "Wisely said, My Lady. I do wish you good luck." The Vicomte, from both his lack of surprise and general amusement, seems to have both expected, and wanted, such a response. "No offense taken, my dear Lady." he assures, chuckling, till he shifts his attention to Jacqueline, and nods. "An excellent idea." And he goes for the drinks, though not before remarking to Ligeia, "I know. You should find other purposes in life, you know. I'm an unhealthy obsession to have." A sip is taken of the red wine after he's taken a seat for himself, comfortable and at ease, a feline at rest, waiting.

Roland sniffs slightly as he deflects the social blows with his sheer… assuredness. Are people making fun of him or goading him? Silly peoples. He is Roland! Arsene gets a wink! Ligeia gets a wave of his hand. "Please don't sing im still hung ov—" And then Jacqueline says his name. To everyone else its just her calling out her cousin. To Roland its like… a dagger on a chalk board. A threatening chalkboard. He snaps his vest slightly, as if trying to clean himself up. Running a hand through his hair to get it into better shape.

"Sounds good. There are a few places in the city that are, well, they're not exactly prestigious, but they're good for what they provide. That is to say, good drinks, good food, and that will suffice the uneasy mind," Jean states to Arsene with another smile, the L'Envers' violet gaze going from Roland to Ligeia and then back when the latter simply… makes that commentary on the former's bedroom skills. Suppressing a chuckle, he bows his head to Chloe and introduces himself again, "Jean Shahrizai de l'Envers, Vicomte de Tonnere." Jacqueline's comment about a duelist's club has his attention, then. "Truly? That might be the one bit of entertainment not easily found in the city, or its outskirts. I fear that my favorites at the local chapter of Mont Nuit might be tiring of me. A little bit of deliberate violence /never/ goes amiss."

"Let us pretend for a few moments that we have been required to lay all of our weapons down outside, hm?" Jacqueline offers this out too before she reclaims her seat again, settling into it with the same brittle grace that she rose with. To Jean, she nods. "My husband is passing fond of the sport and often laments how out of practice he will become. One of my cousins has made a name for himself doing precisely that, and the other has a tremendous love of fighting in general. Those of us who are not skilled in the blade can appreciate the artistry of steel in skilled hands." One of the servants brings a tray around and she collects a flute of white wine, one liable to spend a fair part of the evening in her hand as a prop rather than a crutch to hobble through dinner with her relatives. The fan ends up on her lap, blending into all of the red. "How have you all found Marsilikos to be? In many ways I fear I will have to live vicariously through you, and bid you tell me everything about who you meet and what you do. Well. Almost everything. I've heard there is a tremendous international element in residence. Dignitaries from every shore around the Great Sea, but so far other than a few things in the market, I've seen few of them."

"And here you make the assumption that I want something healthy. " Ligeia drawls apathetically into her wine, sharp eyes darting between the others as she claims a seat. This isn't her starring role and for once? Well, she's happy to be the audience. "There has to be a way to make this into a wager. I say she clocks him with a teacup. Ten points for the chest, twenty for the head." A beat. "Though now I'm tempted to sing just to be obstinate to him," a pointed finger indicating Roland. She calls across to Jean, "My dear, are you a betting man?" She sighs dramatically. "Well there goes that. We must lay down all of weapons now, teacups included."

Chloe takes a seat among the company and lends Jean a polite smile. "Vicomte de Tonnere, we've not been properly introduced. I am Lady Chloe de Basilisque, Vicomtesse de Crouzet." She sets her glass of wine down at the table and casually eyes the utensils making certain the forks have the precise number of prongs and are set according to proper etiquette and placing. When she goes to push the glass of wine at a more desirable angle, her eyes grow wide. Silent horror chokes her. There is a red ring on the table cloth. She blinks a few times feeling the swell of anxiety rise within her. Cheeks blaze with crimson blush. The glass is thus quickly set in the exact same spot as the ring. While Jacqueline speaks, she begs of the servant to bring something to clean the spot. Quiet whisperings. This is totally normal. Everything.is.fine.

Roland raises his hands to show he is unarmed, curling them into fists only briefly! Roland is the only weapon that Roland needs. Obviously. Though he does better with a sword. "She has already tried teacups." he remarks languidly as he takes his own seat, his voice adapting to the room as needed. His eyes are upon Chloe as she seems about set to lose herself in a moment of imperfect order. He almost looks about for something to aim and throw into the glass, to add more chaos to Chloe's life. And then Jacqueline is speaking. "It is quaint for its differences. I rather like it. A change of air is good, I say." He speaks of Marsilikos

"Prestige is not a high concern, in the face of good drinks, food, and entertaining company." Arsène tells Jean. "I'll hold you to it, then." His gaze shift to Jacqueline as she calls the guests' attention upon herself, or at least, the ones bearing arms. "But of course, dear cousin. Have no fear, no fight shall break out. Or at least, I won't do so myself." he grins. It's a very trustworthy grin. "A duelist's club shall certainly keep us busy and entertained, I'm sure. Though I wonder if Augustin will deign, he has a reputation, you see, as Knight of the Swan." Praise for his cousin? Possibly! Though there's something in the amused twist to his words… "Dear bardling, keep it up and I will think that you are propositioning /me/." he remarks to Ligeia, smirk sharpening. But his attention returns to Jacqueline as she asks of Marsilikos. "It has been a mix of entertaining and boring, so, rather similar to home. But I'm afraid I've not met anyone 'international' that might procure you any enjoyment. You've met the ones already, anyway. No, I've kept to the company of d'Angeline."

"Now you try your hand at comedy - I would only keep it up if you could." Ligeia retorts to Arsene, the insult lazy as she crinkles her nose at him before downing a good few sips of her wine. She's distracted, that much is clear as she eyes Chloe. "We can remove the tablecloth?" She tries to helpfully suggest. The Lady isn't ALWAYS vinegar. Only 99.9999999999999999999989% of the time. "I think the dueling club would be magnificent. Will you limit the weapons to swords?"

Chloe levels a look at Roland as if she can already sense what he's thinking. A quiet standoff comes to a close when she turns to Jacqueline. "In truth, I've not settled myself into a routine yet, but from what I can see it is a lovely port city. The salons of the Night Court are kept well as expected and I did spend some time in one of the temple gardens. Everyone has been most welcoming and inviting. Mostly everyone." A simple shake if her head is given in reply to Ligeia's "helpful" comment.

Jacqueline studies Jean from across the table and little sea of flowers, eventually giving the violet-eyed vicomte a smile. "Perhaps it was merely a seasonal influx," she says, regarding the foreign population of the city. "I admit news of the recent tragedy made my first nights here a bit restless." The other matter is so much lighter, and thus she shakes her head. "We could extend an invitation to Augustin. He might even favor us with an appearance. Perhaps we should construct some rules though. Give the winner of each meeting a prize. Let them invite someone in, maybe?" Here she looks to Arsène, expectant more than deferential. "What would you find tantalizing enough to want to win more than once?" And there is Ligeia's question, which she considers. "I do not see why that would be necessary. It might be more amusing to require a different weapon each time. A sword, a dagger, a mop…" A look at Chloe. "…an eclair."

"Were I more like him…" Arsène motions to Roland. "That response, my dear Bardling, would only confirm my suspicions." he answers Ligeia. Jacqueline's question is considered but a moment before he answers. "Beyond the cheers of the crowds and the glory? Simple. Have the winner, champion, defend his title every time one rises up enough to challenge it. That would interest me in winning more than once, for each time, one fights against the best the city can offer. What else could appeal?" She did ask the man who loves fighting. A lot. "Leave the weapon to the fighter's preference. I've no interest fighting a man wielding a dagger if his mastery is the greataxe." His face twists in obvious loathing. "That'd waste both our time." And few things are more dire, says his tone.

Roland seems to have little interest in a dueling club. Why would he? When obviously he would win. At least that might be what he is thinking. "An eclair…? Sounds messy." He remarks with a grin, "Sounds fun." Fun is almost better then winning. Almost. A delicate balance for the Camlach man. "As for a prize… obviously an all exclusive enjoyment of the Nigth Court." He peers over at Arsene and Ligeia as he is mentioned. "I would be great at comedy. Make everyone laugh." he sniffs in his own assurance.

"Knights of the Swan, or Knights of Vain Glory?" Jean smiles thinly after that, apparently finding the whole matter about the knightly order distasteful. "No matter, I have not met this Augustin before." He offers a nod to both Chloe and Ligeia each, smiling brightly at them, before mentioning to the latter, "Not a betting man, but also not one to shy from a challenge." Now Jacqueline's words across the table to him draw his attention, and he mentions, to the d'Aiglemort, "Well, there /are/ a number of foreigners in the city, but even if a seasonal effect, I find that some of the people involved to be… well, it puzzles me, truly, why the Menekhet would stay here instead of continuing their journey to Elua, among other things."

Jean does mention to Arsene, on that note, "I dueled someone once who thought bare knuckles counted among the weapons of polite duelling."

The very sound if the word breathing forth from Jacqueline's lips are like a prayer to Chloe's ears. /Eclair/. She looks up from the marred table cloth and smiles graciously at her hostess. "I've already paid for your assignations, Roland. Consider it a wedding present. A man of your esteem requires a delicate hand. I've been told there is a very capable adept in the Rose Sauvage who could keep your massive ego reigned in." She mouths the words -You're Welcome- rather than say it aloud.

"Were you more like him - " Ligeia begins, but after another glance to Chloe she stills her tongue and drains the rest of her wine. "It is a pity that you are not a betting man, Jean. Wagers and a gamble are all I can bring to the duels other than my magnificent presence. I shall leave the actual swords to those suited to wield them. Pastries included." And indeed, the living porcelain doll looks at though she would not even be able to lift a sword were she to try.

"Mm… I suppose entertainment at the Night Court could be used as a prize." Arsène shrugs, after Roland's remark. "As to the Knights, I wouldn't know. I've not met many, save my cousin." he tells Jean. "Though I've fought a few such duels myself. Bare knuckles, against blades of steel. Swords were forbidden to me at the time, you understand." he adds, before turning his attention back to Ligeia's short-lived reply. He smiles. Sweetly. And then laughs when Chloe mentions the prepared assignations. "I've found them to be the best of company. I'm sure you'll enjoy it, Roland."

"Oh my dear wife to be. You think you already know my desires and proclivities? Well I shall tire out these courtesans and let you know if they meet my taste and standards." Roland says with a winning smile to his dear wife. 'Thank You' is mouthed right back to her. Is this a game they are playing? Beyond the shouting, yelling and insults. "I'll see of arranging for that Mandrake for you in return." he says with a dip of his head.

"It is peculiar, isn't it?" Jacqueline's attention returns to Jean. "This is the greatest port city on the southern coast, and if Menekhet is looking to firm up some sort of trade alliance it would be natural that they should send someone to negotiate that. Is that not the case?" Evidently as he has been in the city longest, he is the one she's going to pry this pearl of knowledge from. She quite ignores the back and forth between Chloe and Roland; in fact selectively ignores the entire business of the Night Court, offering only a dubious look. "Greataxes? Fists? What sort of game did you think I was suggesting? I suppose if you wanted a turn at a brawlers' ring that could be arranged, but inviting greataxes would open the door to every barbarian who can swing a lumber axe."

Ligeia's eyes narrow sharply at Arsene and she hisses something at him quietly before claiming another glass of wine. Her attention is garnered by Jacqueline for a moment, watching and listening raptly for that talk of foreigners though she makes no comment upon it herself. "There is something uncivilized about an axe…not much grace to it."

Roland goes quiet as they continue to discuss foreigners, fighting, dueling, swords and axes. "You would be surprised how uncivilized killing can get. Sword or axe…" Roland remarks, claiming a wine glass from a servant and endeavoring to down it entirely in a few heavy gulps.

"She's supposed to go to the City of Elua but apparently bandits assailed her on the way here. She was, last I heard, involved deeply with an Eresse. One of the middle children of that House," Jean offers a brief shrug to this, along with an effusive smile. He nods to Arsene, before commenting, almost as if in an afterthought, "When I made clear that dueling etiquette stated it would have to be weapons, per code duello, he chose… well, he chose knives. So we fought with knives. And he won, narrowly." He points at the scar on his forehead. "I pray to Camael that he does not find me on the opposite side of a battlefield. He might end up like this Bhodistani I killed not too recently." His head severed and sent to someone as a gruesome, if not unsanitary, gift; in a roundabout way to say such things. "No greataxes, please." He says, outright. "Greataxes will bring Skalds and I've had my fill of those." He grins at Ligeia, then. "I might not be a betting man, but like I said, if it is a challenge, I might take the wager."

This is a dinner and a polite affair that is to be met with all the manners and etiquette of her station but Chloe narrows her eyes for a brief moment before she turns to Roland and attempts to reply casually. "Do not bother, future husband. I've already taken care of such things for myself." Her tone is clipped but she pries her eyes off Roland that moment to engage in the rest of the conversation.

"I thought you were suggesting proper duels with swords, yet you started talking about daggers and… what was the other thing? Mops?" Arsène waves it aside. "Then in the interest of proper entertainment, it shall be swords, if you don't wish barbarians or the local servants to participate, dear cousin." he tells Jacqueline. Something in Ligeia's hiss is interpreted, and Arsène smiles, murmuring something. His attention shifts, however, to Jean. "Ah yes, I have heard of that one. A shame I missed that." And indeed, it sounds as if the man truly regrets it. But alas, timing obliges. "Knives, an interesting choice. I suppose there's a certain intimacy to a knife fight, but I remain a partisan of the sword."

"It is a challenge and I will be sorely disappointed in you if you do not take it." Ligeia beams at Jean, raising her wine in a silent toast to him as if he had already accepted whatever wager she has in mind. Arsene's smile is returned in kind, albeit briefly.

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