(1311-08-07) Arrival
Summary: A new guest moves into her quarters at the Guest Tower.
RL Date: 08/08/2019
Related: None

Gotland Suite — Guest Tower

"This will do. Nicely."

The words were uttered at a low volume, seasoned by the dark timbre and a foreign accent, by the blonde visitor that moved into the suite. Dark grey eyes had their gaze sweep over the interior, and with a gesture she indicated for her maid to get a tapestry out of one of the chests she had brought along.

"I shall try and add my own personal note to the chambers," Elin declared towards the castellan, and her smile tightened a little, even as her tone remained courteous and amiable. "But thank you." Dismissing the woman with a nod of her head, she waited until the d'Angeline had taken her leave.

Her long hair was done in a braid, with a number of smaller braids starting at the temples joining in a bigger one. Her attire was her travel garb, practicality chosen over flashiness. And the style was definitely less playful and of a more direct, plainer charm. A fine linen shirt with northern ornaments at the hems, with a leather vest worn above, tied with a leather strap to have the garment wrap about her in casual hint at her slender waist. A pair of leather leggings worn beneath a slitted riding skirt of dark green color. The bow and the quiver were easily discarded and handed off to Gunilla, the maid.

She turned her head then, and a vague smile played with her features, when Elin Asbjornsdottir glanced towards her travel companion. "Einar. You can sleep over there," she announced sweetly, as she considered the Gotlandish warrior who had been tasked with her safety. Having her gaze pointedly brush the door to the servant's room, she turned then towards her maid.

«I shall have a bath. And then I'll slip into something more formal.» Her language had slipped to her mother tongue. She sounded all the more proud and distinguished as befit a jarl's daughter.

A vague gesture was given towards Einar, and he obeyed with a low snort, withdrawing to the door, where he offered a bow, before he slipped out through the door with a mumbled, «I'll hold vigil.»

«Yes, you will.» Elin didn't even turn to watch the man depart. Her hands lifted to undo the laces of the vest as soon as she heard the door close behind him.

They had arrived a few hours ago, with a ship that now lay moored at the harbor, with the flag of Gotland fluttering in the evening breeze.

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