Feeling out of place, Blayre peered around from her second story vantage point on a guard post at the furthest point of the Royal Dining Hall. The posts, in regular intervals around the upper perimeter of the hall provided an easy view for the sharp shooters. The guard to her left shifted and she didn't miss the minute movement in her peripheral.
All of her senses were on high alert, especially the magical one, and she could feel every bit of magic being used within the building - and likely within a mile or two of the palace. But that distance wouldn't be necessary today. She needed to talk to Holt. She felt unprepared since she was unfamiliar with the palace. Ripley had told her of some various magicked items throughout the palace that she could now mostly identify with her sense - markers of sorts that gave her an idea of locations throughout the castle, so if she did feel something pass -
It was all so difficult. A small part of her wanted to just come out and tell Holt what she could do. If she had better access to the palace, she could be more precise with her calculations when she Sensed things.
The guard cleared his throat. She glanced up at him. Twelve hells. His brow, raised chastisingly told her that he'd caught her lost in thought.
We aren't palace guards! She thought, an echo of Ainslee's previous rage surging in her chest.
It was an excuse though, she needed to remain more attentive to the task at hand - even if her mind had been wandering to important places. As if on cue she saw Ainslee's red hair appear as her friend paced in the space that she had been stationed in on the first floor below.
Fletcher was on the wall opposite Ainslee. He was leaning against a column, tapping a booted toe against the marble floor to some unknown rhythm. Several other guards were stationed around the lower level - enough to be noticeable, but not so many that it seemed like the Royal family appeared to be distrustful of their guests. Which of course they were. Who wouldn't be when Rory had been attacked, the King had likely died of poisoning - though the court physicians were having trouble confirming that.
The doors opened suddenly with a rush of air that Blayre felt up in her second story perch. The hair that commonly escaped her braid, tickled around her face as it moved in the slight breeze, and the smell of dinner drifted up to her, making her stomach growl. She would have to wait to eat until after the royals and their guests had dined.
As if on cue, various servants entered, strutting into the room in a militaristic formation and taking up posts behind each chair at the table.
The Royal Family entered the room led by Briannon, the yet-to-be coronated queen, on the arm of her cousin. She looked splendid in an iridescent black gown that shown green in some angles of the twinkling lights of the chandeliers. Her gold hair tumbled down her back and a small coronet of blackened metal rested on her head. Mourning had cast a shadow over her normally auroral appearance.
Rory was fit to match his blonde cousin in a sharp looking outfit of similar fabric. His was a jacket with a pair of coattails that fluttered against the backs of his knees as he walked. The chandelier light turned his curls into molten embers. He glanced up toward the rafters and caught her eye where she perched - he knew exactly where she was despite the shadows. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and she could feel a flush covering her skin and stepped further into the shaded alcove.
It was dangerous to call attention to her like that. The guards up at the top were supposed to be unseen, imperceptible. Hopefully it went unnoticed.
Rory escorted Briannon to her seat at the head of the table, where the servant pulled the chair out for her. She gave a close-mouthed smile - tight and tense, Blayre thought, and Rory brushed his lips against his cousin's - his queen's proffered hand.
As he moved to take his own seat to Briannon's right, as was custom for the heir to the throne, ocean eyes lifted, returning to the upper ledges where Blayre was. A pleasant chill went through her, but her attention was quickly diverted to the mages who had entered - Conal the Crown Mage, and Caval, his apprentice. Conal was using magic for something, but she couldn't tell what. It was a minute detail, so small that she hadn't noticed right away. And she wouldn't have if she hadn't been so attuned to each little bit of magic around her.
Lady Alessa and Lord Durrighan seated themselves across from the sorcerers and to the right of Rorrick. A couple of other guests arrived, who Blayre mostly ignored once she had assessed their potential for magical threat. The final guest arrived alone. He looked familiar - though she couldn't place him. The man appeared to be in his forties, dark hair tied back with a darker ribbon. Rather than take his seat, he strode to the head of the table where a grin was splitting Briannon's face in a very unqueenlike, and unmournful manner.
She stood abruptly, chair legs scraping against the floor, and prompting the rest of her guests to stand.
"Oh Lonan!" She exclaimed, "I hadn't expected you to be here so soon!"
"I came as soon as I received your letter about his Majesty."
Lonan...Duke Lonan. Blayre realized. The man was known to be a long time friend of King Barton.
Briannon, as though finally recognizing the commotion she was making began to wave her arms, "Sit, sit everyone!"
Blayre couldn't help but to think that her new Queen had not looked so young and vulnerable in years. Rorrick's face lacked all of the joy that his cousin's held, and his greeting to the other Duke was no more than a curt nod and a murmuring in a voice too low for Blayre to hear distinctly.
Alessa who had reseated herself beside him, pulling nervously at the high neckline of her dress, and Caval looked stiff as a board. All in all, Blayre felt that she had a bird's eye view over one of the most awkward meals she had ever witnessed. She wondered if the guards felt the same, or if they were used to this sort of thing.
Moon and Sun this was going to be a long evening.
The dinner party was beginning to show signs of movement after several courses of food. A familiar touch of magic followed by a tap on Blayre's shoulder broke her from her near-trance as she stared wistfully at the leftover food below, the smells of roasted fowl and freshly baked bread rising to meet her where she perched above them all.
"Rorrick wants you to move your post to ground level" Ripley reported, his tone curt and matter of fact.
Blayre glanced at the guard in the next alcove with a bit of apprehension, but nodded almost instantaneously. She wasn't about to argue with the person who was rescuing her from certain starvation and a major crick in her neck from standing in one spot for hours. How did the guards do it? Sure she'd been in some tight spaces as a Seeker, but to literally be paid to stand in one spot for such long stretches of time? She shook her head, following Ripley into the corridor.
"You should know I don't approve of this."
"You don't approve of what?" Blayre asked, footfalls silent on the cushioning of the running carpet beneath her feet. Her uniform felt itchy, and for once her hidden arsenal of weapons made her feel constrained rather than powerful.
Magic was rolling off of Ripley in uneven waves.
"His interest in you."
Blayre halted abruptly, grabbing the rogue mage by the wrist. "Excuse me?"
"Don't play stupid with me, we know you're not."
She looked directly up into his face, her eyes glinting, "There are a lot of things about you I don't approve of.If I'm so intelligent then why don't you approve?" Blayre snapped, feeling her hackles rise.
He had frozen in place, though not in fear, but his chin was raised and he leaned slightly backwards as though it might cause him pain to come in physical contact with her. She pressed further.
"Because it could get him killed." He spat, then spun on his heel and stalked down the hallway. She didn't know if he expected her to follow. Maybe he didn't care.
Resisting the urge to throw something, she stomped her foot and cursed under her breath than strode after him, through a couple of right hand turns into new hallways, and then down a set of stairs.
Ripley stopped at a door manned by two guards who nodded as they stepped aside for her to pass through. She entered on the side of the hall where Ainslee was positioned. Her friend glanced in her direction, and one of the guards gave her a quick glance, assessing the potential for threat and then turning his gaze back to the interior of the room.
The servants were bringing in the last course of the meal - a decadent chocolate mousse. Topped with early season, strawberries. Blayre just about drooled as she watched those seated at the table life spoonfuls to their mouths. Rory's back was to her, and she noticed that he took one bite then pushed it away.
"Hi." Blayre said quietly, stepping up behind Ainslee.
"You got moved?" Ainslee inquired, glancing up to the upper level. Her voice was just above a whisper. The murmur of polite conversation and clinking of silverware on glass prevented their conversation from being disruptive, though Blayre suspected the real guards would most likely disapprove.
"I suppose I did." Blayre said, "Though Ripley didn't seem at all pleased to deliver the request."
Ainslee barely reacted. "So how long has your brother been in the capital?"
Blayre's first inclination was to play dumb. But Ainslee was testing her, she could tell. Though she didn't feel that now was the time nor the place.
"Just over a day. He wanted to surprise you."
"Hm. He looked rather much like he was quite entertained without me, surrounded by all manner of friends. Didn't even notice me as I passed by."
"Ains, you can't expect..." Their conversation was cut off when Briannon stood, bringing an end to the dining experience.
"Thank you for joining us to sup tonight." She said, her voice projecting loud and clear under the acoustics of the high ceilinged room. It had lost all of the girlish fervor that she'd greeted Duke Lonan with.
Now she commanded the room, "The night air is warming as summer approaches, so please, enjoy the patio." She waved a hand to the outer wall where servants had opened the doors to the outdoor patio.
That hadn't been part of the briefing earlier that afternoon, and one look at the guards told Blayre they weren't happy about the deviation from the plan.
If Blayre knew one thing, it was that things rarely went according to plan.
The group followed the Queen's lead and followed her out of the room toward the outside, Rory lingering back. Alessa caught sight of Blayre and Ainslee and made no effort to hide an enthusiastic wave. Blayre gave a half hearted wave as the other woman walked away. She noticed Duke Lonan take Briannon by the arm and lead her outside.
Very presumptuous.
"I suppose we should follow suit." She didn't wait for Ainslee to reply, and began walking toward the outside.
Rory was beside her in an instant, "I don't trust him." He said darkly. She avoided looking up at him. She didn't want to draw attention. More attention that he was possibly already drawing - though everyone but some of the servants and guards had exited to the patio outside.
"I'll keep my eye on them." Blayre said.
"I would appreciate that." The smile softened his tense features. She wished she could erase the tension.
She couldn't do it with her hands, but she could perhaps with her actions. Blayre offered a small smile of her own. "Go, finish your dinner party."
He gave an exasperated eye roll, "Only if you meet me after? The night is supposed to stay clear. Let's take a walk later."
Blayre swallowed, heat flooding her. "Sure - Your Grace."
He flashed a smile and walked outside to join his cousin and their entourage of elites, leaving Blayre craving more than just a good meal.