The Courtyard [EVENT ROOM 3]

[Celandine]

Only the finest and most elaborate of nobility had been invited here, and those who had bargained their way through connection, blackmail, bribery and politics. From the most opulent of dukes to the lowest clerk in a distant parishioners office, these were both the powers that be ok Salvar and the visiting dignatories.

Upon finding that her daughter was already in Salvar and having caught an ear of the potential allies to be made and met so that perhaps the Gilded Lily could finally carve a slice from Salvar's icey grip, Philomel Van Der Aart had bought her way to influence affairs. Tonight trade deals would be negotiated, marriages would be arranged, and political understandings would come together that might or might not influence the entirety of Salvar for yet another year. Here, the Church of the Ethereal Sway held social power, and that implied difficulties, but at a base level because of how they were involved with all matters of life here it meant one single acquaintanceship or alliance might make or break a destiny.

Hair pinned back in a myriad of loops and curls, and dressed from top to hoof in a long-skirted, short-sleeved, satin, royal purple empire gown, overlaid by a lacey, crocheted black shawl, Celandine looked the part of a princess. Pinned as a brooch just below the catch of black lace at her throat a white lily made from silver and mother of pearl was the only clue to her ultimate alliance. Aside from that Celandine was but another young debutante here, one who had carefully hidden her goat legs, and took small steps if only to avoid attention. For those that had known Philomel in younger days they might mistake Celandine for her, but then they would be caught out by the very human ears and her piercing silvery eyes.

Coming into the wide courtyard at the centre of the house, the faun let her eyes roam across the scenery, taking in the roses, the topiary, the water features, the moonlit statue at the centre of all. There were few people here as yet, her being one of the first, but she found a quiet spot underneath the extended wing of a foliage dragon and close to the marble foot of Iverstead. Slowly she took out a small peacock mask from the clutch at her side, and held it hesitantly, not knowing when would be the right time or the right requirement to hide and reveal herself.

It shimmered beneath the dapled light, a mirage of purples, blues and greens. Two round holes served as spaces for eyes and a silk ribbon could be used to tie it about her head. She paused, looking up at the heroic pose of the lord and rolled her eyes a little.

"Awfully arrogant," she muttered.