(1310-10-27) Basilisque-Somerville Wedding Feast
Summary: The wedding feast of Sebastien de Basilisque and his wife, Evelyne Somerville de Basilisque.
RL Date: Sat Oct 27, 2018
Related: Other logs of Sebastien and Evelyne
anse aurelie dior evelyne jacqueline lysander matthieu ortolette phaenne sebastien timothee yves 

Great Hall — Ducal Palace

High and light colored are the walls of the Great Hall, woods of golden tones used in the wainscoting that reaches till mid-level, with elaborate ornaments of fish chasing each other carved into them. A great hearth governs one end of the hall, with a large shield looming above, showing the coat of arms of House Mereliot. With six tall windows on one side framed by long dark blue curtains of heavy brocade, the wall opposite has a line of a couple of shields of Eisandine Houses, placed at regular intervals, and the pair of impressive double doors, through which courtiers usually will enter. The floor is of polished cream colored marble, enhanced with white inlay work depicting the ever repeating pattern of Mereliot fish. Lighting is provided through the lamps at the walls and three large chandeliers suspended from the arched ceiling, polished glass beads glittering where they catch and magnify the light of candles.

Oh what a day.

It had started off with weather that was surprisingly fair for the season. When a procession of Basilisque and Somerville nobility had made their way over to the Temple District in a modest procession of obvious purpose. The bride, Evelyne de Somerville, attired in a fine dress of long sleeves in the white and green of her House, had walked with her hand resting upon Sebastien Basilisque's arm, her hair done in a fine way that reflected surprising modesty and elegance at the same time. Under the observant eyes and ears of their family, the ceremony was held at the Temple of Elua, their replies coming to the questions of the priest, after those preliminary words often imposed by religion. With her hand resting upon his, Evelyne had spoken the vows, and watched him for his reaction. Afterwards the newly-wed pair had been surrounded by their families to accept well wishes and congratulations. The next step had been undertaken in a more private context. A marriage is made to provide heirs, and so their next visit had been to the Temple of Eisheth, just Sebastien and his Evelyne, to go through the ceremony of lighting her candle to Eisheth.

Bride and groom had then been separated, she returning to the Somerville Residence while he went with his kin to the lodgings of House Basilisque. They were not to see each other again, until the wedding feast in the evening.

Fitting the occasion, the Great Hall has been re-decorated. While the large shield with the Mereliot crest is still adorning the wall at the far end, banners of the houses Somerville and Basilisque have been put up at the long wall to the side in an alternating pattern. Large trestle tables and benches have been assembled, leaving some space for mingling and dancing. Refreshments have been lined up on the tables at the sides, plates with tempting morsels of finger food, bits of cheese, rolls of smoked ham wrapped about dates and dried plums, small pastries filled with goat cheese and herbs, others filled with spiced meat. Beverages are provided by attentive servants in white and black livery, offering white and red wines, depending on the preference of the guests.

Those arriving without a mask in place will be pointed to a big basket nearby, containing a multitude of half-masks, some white, some black, and others combining the two colors.

Even bride and groom are wearing masks. Evelyne does, at least. A mask of white velvet covers the upper half of her face, leaving slits for her blue eyes to look towards those arriving. She — at least such is the plan — will be the only one clad all in white tonight. She wears a rather daring version of a gown, white lace strapped to the front of her torso by thin cords that run around to her back, flaring skirts of gauze, enriched with lace here and there, opaque in certain important places, while see through in others. More lace applications sit on her shoulders as if in casual caress, fastened to the same cord structure at the back, while arms are left bare. A snake of silver, studded with glittering gems and stones, coils about the base of her slender neck, and her blonde hair is left to cascade openly down her shoulders and back. A smile is offered to Sébastien who stands beside her.

Behind a black half mask of velvet enriched with a few glittering dark stones, brown eyes look down at the bride and have a twinkle of mischief and excitement. Sebastien de Basilisque is wearing a thick black cotton pants with lacing down the outer sides. His black silk tailcoated shirt is of a very tight fit around the waist, chest and even arms. Long sleeves are folded up to bare the man's wrists. Seven obsidian gem buttons decorate his shirt. Furthermore, he is clad in a very flattering vest made in a black brocade fabric. It's unbuttoned and left to flutter when the man moves. On top of that, a high quality coat with velvet lapels, cuffs and collar, and a satin lining is hanging on his shoulders. To add even more darkness to his visage, the young vicomte used a black eye - liner, adding depth and mystery to his dark brown gaze. His hair is a bit tangled but still groomed. A silver earring is twinkling from his left ear as well as an old silver snake pendant on his neck. A scent of brandy is circling around this dark figure.

Anse has been with the wedding party most of the day, in fact he even married the couple! Arriving to the celebration with the Basilisque family looking somewhat out of place at least color wise, still clad in the blue robes of the priesthood, though he has at least put on a white half mask not that it will do all that much to disguise him. He wears a bright smile on his face as he greets the couple once more, offering them both hugs while brightly exclaiming "Brother, and new sister, i'm so happy for you both."

Evelyne receives the greeting of the Priest of Elua who wed them with a smile, apple scent only faint, as she accepts the hug of her brother-in-law. "Thank you," she murmurs. "It is a great day, and we should be rightfully out of our minds…" A jest, perhaps, if one goes by the twinkle in her eyes. She looks towards Sebastien beside her, and that smile intensifies just so. "We will be *shocked* once we wake up together in the morning. Am I not right?" A soft sigh. "Time has gone so quickly and here we are, at our own wedding feast, waiting for the guests to arrive…"

Sebastien hugs his brother patting the back of a man a couple of times. "Thank you for your wishes, brother." He says still leaning close to Anse and the other Basilisque can smell that vicomte already celebrated his wedding with more than a few glasses of brandy. Then the man looks down at his bride and smiles. "Well, I only hope it will be a pleasant surprise to you, darling." And then his eyes wander to the door in order to see what guests are arriving as well as he glances to where musicians are. His smile grows wider.

It is a union of Basilisque and Somerville, of Camlach and l'Agnace, and the party would not truly be a party if there were not a healthy representation from the houses of those provinces. Many of the Camaelines are conspicuous, in this instance for the black and white that dominates their house colors, but for the flashing steel-bright cheer they've shown the whole way through. Among them is Jacqueline d'Aiglemort, the Vicomtesse of Morteau, which by land borders Basilisque so closely, but further the future sovereign Duchesse of that province, and so more likely than her father to see the future of this match blossom. One never outshines a bride on her wedding day and she's made no attempt at it, her gown erring toward the somber side, black and silver-white commingled in heavy silks embroidered with lighter, brighter white snowdrops. She, like many from her house, has brought her own mask, a half-domino of white adorned around its edges with tiny crystals that resemble the tiny flowers. She (and they) shall be along shortly, offering effulgent greetings - her hands, and airy kisses for the cheeks of both bride and groom. "Our most heartfelt congratulations, my lord and lady."

Ortolette has not been with the wedding party, but has had a blessedly short distance to go to the feast, needing only to descend the stairs in order to attend. As such, she's one of the first few in attendance, but she does not, contrary to her common custom when bound to her ambulatory chair, merely stake out a corner of the room and remain there for the duration. On the contrary, she is on her own two feet, dazzling toes of silver slippers peeking out from below the amply waving soft-pleats of a gown of a pale seafoam, set in at her waist with a low-dipping cincher and frilled at the hips to allude to more curvature than she possesses. A translucent gossamer frill rises from the bodice's neckline, folding in on itself and then bound with a white ribbon around her neck, over which the surplus flowers and frames her cheek and chin, matching the simple white masque she wears over not much more than her eyes, a ribbon bound behind her head, her hair done up in curls to add a little bit to her insubstantial height. She enters as a guest— thing one of note— and thing two, a most unusual accessory to her outfit— a courtesan dressed assiduously to match her outfit and escort her to the banquet, providing her an arm on which to lean and a meet decoration with whom to be seen.

Dior arrives to this grand event as the escort for Ortolette. The young man with his long crimson hair forms a picture of elegance in his high necked pale turquoise doublet with its silver buttons and flowing white silk undershirt. His breeches are a medium grey and his boots tall and made to match them. Emerald green eyes peer out from behind a white half mask with tiny turquoise stones dotting its surface. That vibrant crimson hair is pulled back into a neat braid and secured with a white silk ribbon. With the fragile Mereliot beauty on his arm he moves gracefully into the room with a warm smile on his face from behind his mask. He provides a rather exotic bit of eye candy for those watching the pair and also enables the lady to lean on him if she feels the need for extra support.

Enter another masked creature, this one a lighter hue of blonde, half-mask of choice from the basket is a combination of white and black. Aurélie has stuck to the dress code, her dress is black with white sleeves, cleavage arranged in a pleasing promise of curves in the neckline, above the tightness of a high waist cut that flares out below, where the fabric sits rather loosely. A chain of silver adorns her slender neck, with a heart-shaped pendant resting there against her collarbone. And while she moves with the Night Court's grace, there is an awkwardness about her, as if she were not used to move in social contexts as this one. Swiftly, her green eyes have singled out the pair of bride and groom, and so Aurélie moves closer, waiting for Anse to conclude with his greeting. "Brother Anse," the young blonde Basilisque greets her relative, and then the groom, "My lord Sebastien. I doubt you will remember me, as I left Cléroin when I was seven. But here I am, Aurélie. Basilisque nó l'Envers. My congratulations on the match." Aurélie dips into a curtsey, blinking slightly. "May your marriage be fruitful.", she offers to the bride and groom, and maybe it is that remark in particular that chases a blush upon her cheeks.

"Thank you," The Basilisque Vicomte offers to Jacqueline d'Aiglemort. "It's a true pleasure to have you here. I hope that you will enjoy the feast and the meal. Mademoiselle Audrialla prepared a very delicious cake. Well, at least that is what my wife here said, and if she believes that the cake is tasty, I do believe it too!" He laughs and gently pokes Evelyne, but his gaze remains on Jacqueline d'Aiglemort for a few moments before the man looks at another lady. "Aurélie. Basilisque nó l'Envers. How could I not remember?" A lie. But his voice does not even tremble. Though, his smile and eyes show no recognition except a pleasant acknowledgement. "Enjoy the feast as well and thank you for your wishes."

After the greeting and well wishing given to the bride and groom Anse steps aside to let others come and greet the pair. He offers a warm smile at Aurelie as she greets him in addition to Sebastien and Evelyne "hello cousin, it's been a while" Anse says to Aurelie after her well wishes are given to the wedding pair.

"My lady," Evelyne acknowledges Jacqueline's congratulations with a curtsey. "We are honored that you are here tonight to celebrate with us." Maybe the former Somerville had a few efficient days of courtly polish from her parents, so shortly before her big day. Or the brief time in service as a lady-in-waiting on trial, to the Duchesse of Eisande had been good for something at least. The gentle poke from Sebastien earns him a faint glare, but her smile remains all amiable. Then there is another Basilisque relative who greets them, and Evelyne catches herself sighing softly. "Where are the Somervilles? Are they all hiding at home?" Apart from her parents, and the aunt and uncle she had been staying with.

"Quite a while," Aurélie agrees with Anse, happy to step aside and thus out of the crowd that has gathered about the pair. "I wonder… I heard my brother Gregoire is in the city, have you by chance seen him at the temple?"

Ducal Heir of Somerville might not be the brightest star in the room, but there is something in his silent and proud posture accompanied by mildly stern and pale features when he enters the Great Hall in a slow and haughty manner. The young man's attire can be considered regal but not too pompous. His coat is a three-quarter length and made of a rich black and white tapestry fabric. It displays a velvet collar, cuffs, pocket flaps, and lapels. Thirty-two silver buttons fasten its lapels and decorate its cuffs and collar. These buttons have ornamental carvings of tree branches. Timothée wears completely black silk shirt under his coat and a dragons pendant is dangling on a short silver chain from his neck. His long black pants show off crisscrossed lacing down the sides of the legs and are tucked into heavy black leather boots. His right hand is clenching a silver head of a dragon which is a decorative top of small cane. The rest of the cane is circled by the dragon's body and tail. Timothée is followed by his guard who is carrying a medium size chest and he has his to-be-wife on his arm. The wooden chest has very detailed apple tree carvings. Timothée Rafael de Somerville takes the mask as its mandatory and puts it on, but he is not taking too much of a time and simply heads straight to the bride and the groom afterwards, leading lady Phaenne with himself. He offers a nod of acknowledgement to the groom but his focus is immediately turned to the bride. A young man extends his hand with a palm up as if asking for Evelyne's hand. "Lady Evelyne." He places a peck on her knuckles if she allows. "I hope you are enjoying your celebration?" The young man doesn't even mind if he interrupts others who want to great the lucky pair.

"I expect it shall be delightful. All of it. Truly, today is a blessing from Elua." Jacqueline won't eat up all of their time and attention though. She has smiles for the train of Basilisques, familiar or not, and soon moves off to rejoin her own little cluster of people, possibly just so she can accept whatever glass of wine one of them has procured for her in the process. Not to drink, mind, but it takes some paying attention to note that she makes of it a prop, something to occupy her hand and ensure she isn't pressed with additional libations.

Ortolette: It's perhaps a testament to her general seclusion that despite having been of a household with the Somerville Evelyne for some time now, the both of them are acquainted and little else. "How happy the bride looks," is a remark held drifting past the ruffles of her collar, far enough for Dior to hear and not much further, step faltering en route to pay her respects, or else simply allowing those who are zealous for such greetings to pass by ahead.

Phaenne arrives with her soon-to-be husband Timothee Somerville. She's wearing a dress with a long skirt and long sleeves, very modest for d'angeline standards perhaps, but then again this is a wedding and not a fete at one of the salons. The dress is mostly white with only a few small details of black adorning the embroidered bodice, black being a color that the young Mereliot lady normally never wears. She picks up a white half-mask from the basket. She looks around the gathered crowd as they enter but for now simply let's Timothee lead her towards the couple being celebrated today. She gives Tim a subtly annoyed look if he does indeed interrupt some of the other guests to give his own greetings but she stays at his side and otherwise doesn't give away what she thinks about his brazen behaviour. When they're in front of the bride and groom, she gives the couple a curtsy as appropriate and a small smile curves her lips upward as she looks to them. "Congratulations on the big day. May your union be one joyess and full of pleasure.".

Anse shakes his head at Aurelie as the pair step off to the side. "I have not. But I can't say i've been there every day and every hour, so by chance he could have still visited and I just missed. I will keep my eyes out for him though if he does arrive, I must say I've done a poor job of keeping up with family here in Marsilikos, how long have you been here cousin?"

Never one to usually avail himself to social functions considering his convalescence, the future duc de Siovale has made an exception this evening, if not just to pay his due respects to the Camaeline house at the center of the event. It has been a few years since he has served on the borders of Camlach, but he has not forgotten the experience of it. Matthieu Rocaille's tall, broad-shouldered form, clad in an impeccably tailored, high-necked white coat, closed in the front, black breeches and boots with a white shirt underneath, he seems to have reclaimed much of his former stride - the walking stick that has accompanied him since his return from his ordeals overseas is gone, every movement imbued with the stony confidence of a man hammered upon the anvil of responsibility.

A black half-mask sits on his face, framing ice-blue eyes chased with silver. He is accompanied by his Cassiline, and boyhood companion, Gabriel de Montreve. A quick sweep has him picking out the bride and groom relatively easily - they are the only ones wearing the only pure black and white outfits in the room.

Evelyne spots the arrival of the Ducal heir of Somerville, and that oddly enough draws a low silvery chuckle from her lips. "I've complained too soon?", she remarks to Sebastien. "Here is at least a Somerville. And one of standing, as well." Granting the congratulator her hand she inclines her head whilst offering introduction. "Sebastien, let me introduce to you Lord Timothée de Somerville, heir to our Duc. I am glad," this Eve adds towards Timothée, "that you have come." Her gaze sweeps to Phaenne and she smiles. "And this is…? Ah yes. Your intended. I believe your nuptials shall be at least as joyous as this one. Exciting." At which Evelyne winks towards Phaenne. "Please. Enjoy yourself. There is wonderful food and drink. And yes… a wedding cake later. Absolutely delicious."

"Before we enjoy anything…" The Ducal Heir interrupts after giving a second nod of acknowledgement to Sebastien upon introduction. "Wedding is always more a celebration to a woman than to a man, and that day has to be all about the bride. More importantly, you are of a house Somerville and I hope that you will not forget this. For this reason, I have a small gift to you, lady Evelyne." Ducal heir waves with his two fingers to the servant. The servant of Timothée Rafael de Somerville immediately brings the chest in front of lady Evelyne. He bows deeply and opens that chest for her to see inside. First of all, a glimmer of precious gems, silver and gold will draw the eye. But taking a more detailed gaze one will see that the chest contains a silver and black lace choker. An oval, brightly red gemstone forms the focal point of this piece, framed by fairies and scrollwork. A short chain suspends a glinting fully ripe apple and another drop stone. The choker is worn with a black, bow-tied ribbon. Beside it lies a very romantic piece of jewelry which combines fine silver and glimmering gemstone into a cuff style bracelet. The trio of amethystine accents only helps to enhance its appealing and eye-catching design. This cuff bracelet features heart shaped cutouts along its length. Crafted almost entirely in silver, it has a dark gleam reminiscent of silver. A trio of crystal hearts, in purple, sits center on this jeweled accessory. One can find very beautiful earrings as well. They are made of silver and display flowers crafted with stunning detail and color. Touched by the sun, these purple and gold colored flowers reveal their inner beauty, having some transparency. However, the most impressive piece in the chest is a stiletto. It's sharp blades twinkle with engraved words: "Defy All Storms". The pommel of the piece is formed by entwined blooming apple branches.

"We arrived in April," Aurélie replies to Anse, lowering her gaze. "The lord l'Envers and I. But I don't go out into the city that much." A servant approaches them, offering them glasses of red or white wine, but the young blonde Basilisque shakes her head. "A bit of watered white wine… I am not feeling that well," she murmurs, looking visibly relieved when she receives a glass with the requested beverage after a moment. "As for Gregoire… he married recently into House Baphinol, or so I heard. Which explains his arrival to the city."

Anse doesn't seem to be drinking either today, offering a smile and a shake of his head to the servants offering of wine. He looks back to Aurelie and offers another smle to her "well, I would be happy to see you if you ever came to visit Elua's temple. And as I said I will keep an eye out for my other cousin." Anse gives a curious look to Aurelie then "would you like to go sit down, since you're not feeling well?"

Evelyne looks surprised, when Timothée presents her with a gift, her and not Sebastien, her husband. Even so, she cannot help but look, when the chest is opened and its contents are presented to her. "Oh… my lord…", she gasps, reaching for the pieces of jewelry first to inspect them and admire the play of the light in the gemstones. "These are beautiful…" Her gaze flicks to Sebastien, "Don't you think?" She places the pieces back into the chest, and then looks at the dagger. There is surprise in her eyes. A bit of hesitation perhaps. "Why would you gift me with a dagger on my wedding, my lord?", she asks Timothée.

Sebastien also raises his brow at the choice of the gifts and he gives a mild roll of his eyes but then he leaves his wife to handle her relatives. Vicomte better focuses on the general crowd seeing out for his own people in there, as well as he looks at the musicians one more time, and at the servants as if making sure that the staff is doing their job well. He waves to one of the boys in order to bring him a glass of wine. He snatches two goblets and offers one to Evelyne while taking a prolonged sip from his own goblet.

"I shall," Aurélie assures Anse, "come and visit Elua's temple. It may take a while though. As I will leave with my lord soon, for his home in Namarre. It will only be a temporary absence." A nod then. "Yes. I would like to sit down. But really… I am fine. Well enough to come in person today to offer my congratulations." Green eyes look towards Sebastien and Evelyne. "They seem to be quite content with their lot.", she observes softly.

Anse smiles once more at Aurelie and bows his head a little "well I look forward to it" he says in regards to the visit. He glances over towards some of the tables and chairs and offers Aurelie an arm "I would be happy to escort you over if you'd like." Then Anse looks up towards his brother and new sister with a smile. "That they do. I pray they'll both be happy."

Excuse my manners, I've….had a lot on my mind lately. I am Phaénne Mereliot and yes I am to wed your cousin Timothee." She looks a bit out of it on closer inspection, perhaps, like she is not entirely comfortable. A small pause then. "Joyous….yes.." Phaenne says, her large grey-blue eyes flickering shortly to the Ducal Somerville heir at her side. It's not exactly a look of heartfelt devotion but she manages to keep the smile on her lips. "Thank you lady Evelyne, I am sure this night will be one to remember, both for yourself and all in attendance." She offers Timothee a slightly tired look at his words about weddings being mainly for the sake of the woman, looking back at Evelyne and Sebastien with a slightly embarrassed look, as much as she is trying to hide it. A small sigh then as the chest is carried forward, and a faint roll of eyes at her betrothed's show of extravaganza. Wine. Where is the wine.

<FS3> Lysander rolls Lute: Good Success. (3 6 1 1 4 3 4 7 7 6 1 3)

"And why not?" Timothée laughs and shrugs his shoulders lightly, "Don't you like it, vicomtess? A title grants you not only with amenities but danger. Of course, if you do not like it, you may…" He leans in and whispers to lady Evelyne Basilisque. His whisper is followed by a mischievous grin and jestful curl of his lips. Which is so rare to him and so it disappears very fast, immediately after he gives a wink to Evelyne. The young man turns to Phaenne then and offers her his arm. "I believe we shall leave the pair now. Would you be so kind to introduce me to some of your family members? I am sure that you can tire lady Evelyne off with a girly chattery at the second part of the festivities. She is now supposed to greet other guests." He explains as if his to-be-wife would be clueless of the common customs.

Somewhere to the side, on a small podium, sits a lone minstrel, attired in black and white and thus blending in with the overall dress code. He, too, wears a half-mask; one of the simple ones from the basket. A black half mask. His posture is relaxed but also showing a certain confidence. Resting upon his lap is his lute, held gently by one hand, finger moving as he has a series of chords add a certain musical ambience at a moderate volume. He looks up, glancing towards all those nobles lining up to greet the newlyweds, and a faint grin shows on handsome features. Chords turn into runs, unhurried and yet skilled. Before he returns to playing softly rippling chords.

Evelyne counters, "I do like it," a hint of a stubborn tone in her otherwise surprisingly perfect courtesy. "The dagger… don't you think I can wield it? I am to live in Camlach. Should I have Camaelines laugh at me for rejecting a fine weapon such as this one?" Tilting her head a little as she receives the whisper from Timothée, she grins then, and yet still shakes her head. The bride's gaze follows Timothée and his intended, as they move off to the side, her demeanor only slightly thoughtful.

The ducal heir of Somerville is identified, easily enough, by a man who keeps close track of those who would be his peers once the older generation eventually gives way to the younger, but he does not approach as of yet. But once those greetings are done, he starts to move. Long strides take him towards the bride and groom, but is halted, in the end, by the presence of Ortolette Mereliot letting others pass her by on her way there, her pale, familiar figure standing out even without the help of the lush and detailed couture that she has decided to wear today. Slowing to a stop, and a brief incline of his head towards the direction of the newly-wedded pair as they continue to greet their guests and well-wishers, Matthieu turns his eyes down to the smaller, fragile figure resplendent in her finery. "Lady Ortolette," he greets, an arm folded behind his back as he affords her a slight bow from the waist - the gesture is mirrored by his dark-haired Cassiline. "I'm pleased to see that your spate of good health is holding." His attention tracks, briefly, towards her companion.

"Thank you," Aurélie says towards Anse, and his offer of accompanying her over to a table. "How are you finding Marsilikos, by the way? It is so different from home, is it not?" She looks towards the priest and relative with a curious gaze, "People will differ, the variety at least, compared to whom you might encounter at the capital?"

Sebastien focuses on Lysander and his beautiful music while drinking his wine and drowning in his own thoughts. Though, once this ducal heir moves aside, vicomte is able to focus back on his wife and other guests. He leans in to Evelyne and whispers something to her before offering a wide smile and a few more "Thank you." To the others.

Anse takes a seat next to Aurelie as the pair head over to a table, and once on the seat he pulls his legs up into the chair to sit crosslegged in it before hrming a little. "I am finding Marsilikos interesting. Very different from home, a lot more foreigners." Anse begins musing "I've like it so far though. I've met a fair amount of interesting people here, at the very least it will be a good spot to winter before I decide if I'm going to continue on pilgrimage or not. I ended up here by chance.." Anse pauses and glances towards the bride and groom then back to Aurelie "well, perhaps I was guided here to see Sab married. Whos to say. Regardless, Marsilikos is interesting, I've come to like it. And maybe i'll stay longer than the winter" Anse shrugs again "you've been away from Camlach for some time now, havent you? Are you planning to stay here as well?"

Phae just gives Evelyne her best and sweetest smile as Timothee leans in to whisper something in the brides ear. She can only imagine what he might be saying to the young woman. That smile quickly fades as her betrothed's attention is once again fully on her. She offers the bride another small curtsy before turning and taking Timothee's arm. "Yes, something to drink sounds like a wonderful idea." She says to him, either not having heard his words or just ignoring them. The latter seems far more likely. "Oh I'm sure lord Sebastien will tire out the lady Evelyne to her heart's content later on. He, at least, looks like a man of stamina.." She then says, giving Timothee a glance and a wry smile that further underlines the hint of comparison between himself and the Basilisque lord. Only another roll of eyes and a small shake of her head is the reaction as he 'explains' to her the need to let others make their greetings. She leads him towards a small area where snacks are set out and a number of the servants not mingling the crowd with trays are standing ready to offer refreshments to the guests. She reaches for a goblet of red wine, taking a healthy sip of it and looking to the ceiling with a short sigh. She doesn't bother offering Timothee a drink, knowing that he'd likely prefer to serve himself anyway. She gives the gathered crowd another look-over, perhaps looking for some of her relatives so she can introduce her husband-to-be to them. She doesn't seem in a hurry to do so, however.

Separating from the other Camaelines gathered with Lady Jacqueline, Yves Valliers makes his way over towards the queue gathered near the newlywed couple. His garments matching those around him so that he just sort of blends into the black and white pattern. Advancing a few steps at a time as the queue moves along in small bursts. Standing in line, he makes no real conversation, just idly watches and listens in on their conversations. Somehow managing to only look slightly wide eyed about half the time, which is a remarkable improvement since his arrival a week or so ago.

"I do hope that you will not drink too much. It would be a shame if you would make a fool of yourself in the middle of a wedding feast," Timothée throws a comment at Phaenne's desire for a wine. The words are said in a low whispers that only the pair could hear them or the closest and the most curious ears. He, of course, reaches for the glass as well. Though, he decides to only hold it in his hand as some sort of decoration. "I am not planning to stay here for too long. I have some important matters to attend to. Especially, since I do not have what to do here since the dutchess is nowhere to be seen…" The ducal heir sounds a bit disappointed. "I also must admit that you would have looked much better in that black gown I gave to you on the day when I arrived. You could have used a white accessory. Now people might think that you were trying to outshine the bride, darling. You have too few details of blackness." The young man scolds lady Phaenne still keeping his voice very low. Then he takes a sip of wine and adds. "Otherwise, you do look very beautiful. I do like that you are not as skinny as the bride."

Sitting down at the table does two things with Aurélie. It makes her relax visibly, her whole posture seems less tense. Also, she seems content to listen while keeping quiet herself. Anse's reply to her question earns him a shy smile. "Ah, yes. I see. And you are right. It must be the port. And the trade that comes in from the ships that visit Marsilikos from other countries.", the young courtesan muses. A smile then. "I've been away from Camlach far longer than I have been there. Elua has been the place I have stayed longest. Marsilikos…", she ponders, giving Anse a look through her black and white mask, "is far nicer than I had assumed. The weather is pleasant." At which her expression becomes a little thoughtful. "I can hardly say what plans I have. As they very much depend on the lord that delights so much in my company. Right now, I am certain that we will return here. It should only be a brief trip to his holdings…"

Evelyne watches Phaenne and Timothée for a moment from afar, tilting her head a little when Sebastien elects to whisper something into her ear. "Ah well…" Lips curve in amusement. Her hand moves with the glass of wine in her hand, swirling it lightly. Until, looking up, she glimpses Yves and she smiles. "Ah… Look who is here? Lord Yves. I met him by chance at the inn in town. He is of House Valliers. He also sent me a shipment of joie, for my birthday." Said as she turns her gaze towards Sebastien.

"I was in Elua last winter, I think perhaps some day I'll go back. I am not sure I ever gave the city as much time as I should have." Anse muses back to Aurelie "I think I should stay long enough to take a ship somewhere myself. I've yet to try that. Maybe I can hitch a ride along with someone round Aragonia to Azzalle…" Anse shrugs his shoulders "but, that is for the future to bring." Anse smiles at Aurelie then "well, nothing wrong with having no plans. We can all use some time to let the world carry us I think. Sometimes you can plan too much, no?"

"Oh?" Sebastien smiles at Evelyne's introduction. "I do remember tasting joie few years ago! For some reason, I never got a chance to sip it again. Call him here, Evelyne, if he is your friend. I would like to meet this boy!" The vicomte's eyes focus on the lord Yves as he waits for his wife to proceed with introductions. The man does take a few sips of his wine and since the goblet is empty, he sets it aside. Then he chooses to wrap one of his arms around Evelyne's waist and push her closer to himself. The excitement in his features brightens as his cheeks turn a bit reddish, thanks to one more goblet of wine.

Evelyne hesitates — and then follows her husband's bidding. "Lord Yves," she waves him over. A bright smile lights up her features. "I was not sure you would come, after all. What a pleasure to see you." She glances from Yves to Sebastien. "This is Lord Yves Valliers. Lord Yves, meet my husband, Sebastien de Basilisque, Vicomte de Montmarlon." Her other hand lifts and then comes to rest upon Sebastien's as he pulls her against his side, that particular gesture bringing about a somewhat surprised yet also a little pleased expression. "We should have the cake brought in soon," she murmurs towards Sebastien. "Before we get too tipsy, hmm?"

<FS3> Lysander rolls Lute: Good Success. (3 5 4 3 7 5 6 7 6 6 8 1)
<FS3> Lysander rolls Singing: Good Success. (2 3 7 5 1 7 5 5 4 3 8 6 2)

When summoned from the queue the young Lord Yves bows his head slightly and does his best impression of proper society. "I, well, you said I should. Pleasure to meet you," he says to the groom, and then looking between them he manages not to stammer and goes on further to say, "Congratulations on the," he pauses, "Um.. marriage. Everything looks.. .. nice." Reaching back behind his head, he scratches a bit and then smiles, despite the blush and the domino mask. Pleased that he'd managed to get through the standard pleasantries. "I got you wool, so that you can have things made, for when you go to Camlach."

It is an art to remain unobtrusive. Especially for an artist that aches to shine. Lysander Beaufort is all unobtrusiveness at the moment. Until he decides to drop his playing of chords and runs, that remain fragments but not a real performance of his skills. They are good for one thing though. To become overture for a somewhat subdued performance… Mumbling the first verse, his pronunciation becomes more clear as he proceeds, the volume, low, but loud enough to carry a little. There is after all something known as a 'loud piano', and this bard knows how to produce such a quality.

"It is a pleasure meeting you, m'lord." Sebastien smiles at Yves and then glances a few times between him and Evelyne. But then of course he does nod in agreement of Evelyne's suggestion. "We should definitely bring in the cake and then start festivities. I must admit those introductions and simple greetings sound a tad boring. We should go to the part where we eat, drink and dance. Don't you agree, lord Yves?" He briefly then glances at the young lord.

"Lord Yves." Evelyne smiles, perhaps sensing his awkwardness. It is too tempting. It really is. "I wonder… how do you like my dress?", she asks then, turning a little for the young lad of House Valliers, to present the rather risqué sort of wedding gown. While she nods to Sebastien. "I will tell the servants to bring it in." Taking a good sip of her glass. Emptying it, even.

And Lysander sings:

Tell her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Gather it up in a basket of flowers
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Have her wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Where water ne'er sprung, nor drop of rain fell.
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Tell her to to find me an acre of land.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the sea foam and over the sand.
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Plow the land with the horn of a lamb.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam.
Then she'll be a true love of mine

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll see to that enough for both of us." Phae remarks back to Timothee, obviously not talking about drinking too much. Then another healthy sip of the goblet. "More important than your own cousins wedding?" She then asks, looking at him disapprovingly. "I know you're not that well acquainted, but still." She leans in to him a little, then, talking in a lowered but clearly annoyed voice, her composure faltering just a bit but not enough to spill out, or so she hopes. "You know that I don't wear black. Even this much feels…." She pauses for a moment as not-at-all-pleasant memories push themselves to the front of her thoughts. "…just stop needling me about it, would you. Besides, you saw Lady Evelyne, I hardly come close to 'outshining' her." Another long sip of her goblet. She does give him a smile at the compliment, and it even seems genuine. "Than…." And then he goes and ruins it, causing her to shortly look down at herself and then back to him with an annoyed expression kept as subtle as she can. Leave it to Timothee to ruin a perfectly good compliment. "Yes, she is almost as skinny as you, not everyday you see that. At least she makes it look good." She says, her chin lifting and her eyes going to scan over the crowd, or just anywhere except for where Timothee is standing. "I don't see many of my relatives here tonight." She then adds, as much to herself as to the Somerville heir.

Aurélie had stayed silent for a moment. But it is now that she offers a comment to Anse's words. "If you would like to travel by ship, Marsilikos would be the best place to start such a voyage," she remarks softly. As for planning, that makes the young woman smile and lower her gaze again. "Ah. You are right perhaps. And perhaps I should develop some plans of my own."

"I am getting hungry," Yves replies frankly when asked, and turns his head slightly to look in the direction of the small amount of food already on offer, but perking up further at the mention of further summoned food. Not that he has any power over such things, but the timing couldn't be more fortunate. When the bride inquires what he thinks of the dress he blushes furiously, but the mask does an admirable job of hiding the majority of it and he manages a proper, "You look lovely," without having to pause or stammer even once. The focus on his opinion however is clearly making him shuffle his feet a little as he looks towards whatever queue might still remain, hoping that he can be freed from the cage of social nicety.

Anse smiles at Aurelie even as he starts unfolding his legs to stand back up. "You should consider it, but like I said, nothing wrong with letting yourself drift a bit and see where life takes you. I don't think I'd have come to Marsilikos if it wasn't happenstance." Anse shrugs a little "but it was a pleasure to see you again cousin, and I fully expect to see you more in the following months. I need to go check on something though at the moment, i'm sure i'll see you once the dancing starts."

"Ah… thank you…", Evelyne smiles, apparently content with Yves' reply about her outfit — and with his reaction as well. "Hungry?" That word caught her attention and reminds her that she was about to request the cake. "Please! Bring in the cake!", the bride calls, with wine-induced confidence.

"The cake!"

"Someone bring the cake!"


It may be thanked to the music rippling in the background that the shouts of servants may not draw that much attention. But as it is, the wedding cake had been requested, and so, prompting sighs and comments of 'Ooh!' and 'Ahh!', it will be brought in, carried by a pair of servants on a large wooden tray. It takes some effort to set the masterpiece down on one of the tables, without accident. But they manage. And there, now for all to admire it sits there in all of its delicacy and culinary allure:

Four tiers of creamy white buttercream stack atop one another neatly, with hand-piped swoops and draperies in jet black for adornment. Each layer is crowned by decadent dark chocolate. Climbing its way up the cake is a marzipan snake in white, scales detailed in place. At the top of the cake is a glossy red apple with a pair of green leaves, also made of marzipan. The snake curls around it with glistening sugar eyes and a tiny pink sugar tongue.

"Very well," Timothee sets the goblet of wine back on the table. "I believe this is time for me to leave. As I said, I do have very important matters to attend to. I did not come here for leisure. You can stay and discuss dresses, jewels or whatever you enjoy discussing with other ladies." The young man rolls his eyes. "I also would like to invite you for a hunt two days from now. I am arranging a small hunting party. I hope you won't wear anything white for such an occasion." He extends his hand for lady Phaenne and if she will give hers to the man, he will place a peck on her knuckles. If not, he then simply will bow his head. "Have a wonderful feast. You do need to gather some ideas for your own upcoming wedding, after all. Maybe lady Evelyne will have some advice!" Then a young ducal heir turns on his heel and strides out of the grand hall.

Phaenne's attention is immediately drawn to the cake as it is carried in, a small "ohhh.." escaping her lips. Then she looks back to Timothee. "Already? Before the cutting of the cake?" Another sigh, this time far less subtly than the previous ones. "Fine! Go and take care of you 'important business', whatever it is." Probably killing and torturing something cute and innocent, by her reckoning. "I'd be delighted." She answers to his invitation, although there is no hint of anything resembling delight in her demeanor or the tone that she speaks the word in. His comment about her attire merely earns him a roll of eyes as she extends her hand for him to place a kiss upon, looking away idly as he does so. Her lips part af is to speak again but the young ducal heir turns on his heel and starts walking away before she can do so, leaving her standing there alone. Her expression, however, quickly turns from annoyance to one of something resembling relief as her eyes follow him and he draws further to the exit. Oh well, at least there is cake, and maybe she'll even get a chance of some actually pleasant company as the night draws on.

There might be a moment, in which Evelyne glances towards the chest that was brought by her Somerville kin, the ducal heir, that now elects to stride out of the hall, in the midst of festivities. Pondering perhaps a certain dagger to use for the task that now lays before them. But then, a light shrug of shoulders, as Evelyne Somerville de Basilisque approaches the wedding cake with Sebastien in tow. "Give me the knife," she commands lightly, and in accepting it, turns her head to regard Sebastien. "You need to set your hand upon mine, so that we cut into the cake together. Our first official deed, executed as a married couple." She grins. "Let's get this over with. Lord Yves is starving…!"

Evelyne waits until Sebastien's hand sits on hers as they get to the task. The knife dives into that luxurious second layer of the cake, as she leaves the top as of yet untouched.

When the couple cuts into the cake, the black and white theme continues in a swirl of light and dark cake with blackberries between each layer. Chocolate, vanilla, and blackberry all meld for a uniquely rich taste.

What a sweet temptation to start off the rest of the evening!

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