Spirits of the Earth

"This is pointless." Dimitri growled softly, arms crossed across his chest and slouched in his seat as he stared sullenly out the carriage window. His body swayed to the gentle rocking of the wheels traversing the carriage way leading towards the fifth, and thankfully last, manor he would be visiting during his journey around Moonspear. Weeks spent traveling from estate to estate had soured his mood, and one would not be incorrect to say he was sulking in his seat. Worse than the traveling were the women.

In five houses nearly a dozen girls to meet. The last four would be at the end of this path. Every nobleman and noblewoman with daughters of a marriageable age had sent him invitations to their homes. Those had begun pouring in the very day he'd taken his place as High Lord of Moonspear! Even before he had formally announced that he would be seeking a bride. That had annoyed him more than anything. The assumption was galling that they would pressure him immediately. Still, it was to be expected – the price to pay for being the highest lord, and most eligible bachelor, in the entire province.

He had to constantly remind himself that he did have to do this. It was non-negotiable, really. A High Lord needed a wife to produce heirs. House Orlov needed him to do this, and Dimitri would do anything for his house. Even marry some fool woman he didn't truly know. Even have children. That alone had him sighing and letting his head fall back against this seat. Babies were messy, noisy, smelly, fragile, and demanding. He did not understand the appeal some held towards the little pink monsters. At least he would not be expected to attend the children's every need. A lord was busy enough, but a high lord would be busier still.

"I am never going to find a woman that I am going to enjoy being married to. If it weren't for the need to reproduce to get the court from breathing down my neck I wouldn't marry at all. Simply picking a name out of a hat would be as good as this foolish parade, and it would be a lot less wasted time and energy. This has been so inefficient. Who talked me into this again?" Of course only silence was his answer, it wasn't as if Dimitri actually expected a response, he might as well have been talking to himself. Lazar sat silent and unmoving across from him, his eyes barely glowing as the construct conserved energy.

The carriage was slowly rolling to a stop anyway. Sitting up straight and smoothing his clothes and hair, Dimitri adjusted his appearance to not look as disheveled and road weary. He had changed into regal finery before making the last few miles of the journey, just as he had before each estate before this one. While he had met many of these men and women before in passing, this was his first appearance to most as High Lord of Moonspear. With all the resistance and opposition Dimitri wanted to make an impression on his subjects to drive home the message that he was now the ruler of this province, and they had best remember it.

As soon as the carriage had come to a complete stop, Lazar woke up, rising from his seat to help his master make minor final adjustments to his fitted long coat and vest, which were both black with gold buttons and embroidery. Indeed, his boots and pants were also black, his gloves and silk shirt with a high, stiff, and ruffled collar were golden thread. The House Orlov colors, naturally, were to be heavy in his wardrobe during such a trip. If one looked closely they could see the buttons were carved into tiny house crests.

The door opened and Dimitri took a deep breath before rising and stepping down out of the carriage, taking his first real look at the Manor of the Zamt'ris noble house. Truth be told it was a rather impressive sight to see the family's honor guard in all their finery, as well as the family themselves behind that. He stood before his carriage surrounded by his own guard in their ceremonial uniforms. At first the grand displays had really startled him, but by the third house they had become slightly dull.

As he was formally announced, Lazar stepped down from the carriage to stand silently behind and to his left. The construct brought him a slight amount of comfort. Perhaps even more than his honor guard, which parted to allow him to step forward to meet Lord and Lady Zamt'ris and their many children. Dimitri's posture and movements were carefully made to display regal grace and assurance, even as his lilac eyes moved over the four women standing behind the Lord and Lady. Any of them could become his wife. Or none of them. So far none had left quite a desirable impression on Dimitri from any of the previous houses, but he had to go through the motions even if he didn't think they would amount to anything.

This is pointless, Amaya said to herself, watching the carriages pull to the columns of Guardsmen. She couldn't help but shake her head at the grandeur of it all, this person was little more than a man. Albeit, a man with an impressive title. It wasn't too often that a High Lord or Lady would visit the Zamt'ris Estate, in fact, Amaya couldn't recall it happening before. Maybe with was quite the event. Though it still lacked a cause, this was the last Manor that High Lord Orlov would visit on this tour, which if rumors held true, he would pick his bride. She knew of the houses that came before theirs, she suspected that he'd likely already found a bride and was merely going through the rest of the tour as a formality.

Not that it mattered to her. Call her strange, but she enjoyed her life, it was familiar and enjoyable. She wanted for nothing as it was, and while she were content why would she strive for more? No, avarice was unbecoming of her, but it didn't stop her from laughing at her sisters as they tried to make themselves seem so much more. Bellamy, her immediate older sister, had rigged an altered Cosette under her dress to make her bust look bigger. Altira, the youngest, wore some ungodly high heels as to accent her hips and chest. Her feet would be out for blood later. Juniper, the second youngest, had chosen to shine. Like literally shine, She wore such reflective jewelery that the sun glinted off her.

Amaya had gone for something more modest. Correction, as modest as she could get away with. Her normally worn mage robes had been replaced with a deep purple two piece robe with long flowing sleeves. It looked very reminiscent of the robes that you would see in the rare paintings of Fae Royalty, though her mother had made it painfully clear that it came from the far east, courtesy of the Sinclair Trading Company, whom Lord Zamt'ris was recently allowed access to a trade route though their acquired land. She also wore a necklace of brilliant amethyst and white gold. Still present around her neck were her necklace of Mediums, three animal claws on a length of string. Her hair had was an overcomplicated cascade of braids running down her back. It had taken hours to do, and was damn near impossible to do without a team of women braiding hair. She could have spent that time studying summoning, or trying to draw out a familiar to form a contract with, but no, this had been so much more important.

When Lord Zamt'ris spoke, his voice demanded the focus. The man looked like he could have been an opera house star in another life, he had a very broad chest that slimmed the further down his body you went. His dark hair had begun to grey, showing his age, his experience. The lord had been playing the political game for a long time and quite well. Like his family motto, 'Fortune Favors The Objective' he was everyone's friend. "Greetings My Lord" his voice carried throughout the courtyard with ease, "Welcome to the Zamt'ris Estate, My family and I welcome you." He and Lady Zamt'ris bowed, "These are my sons; Michael, Martin, David, and Neil. And my Daughters; Bellamy, Amaya, Juniper, and Altira." Each of his children bowed or curtsied in turn with their name being called. Though, that was hardly the most interesting thing.

Poor Altira, not that what happened wasn't totally foreseeable in every way possible way. As the youngest Zamt'ris went to curtsy to the High Lord, one of her heals snapped, causing her to tumble and fall on her ass. She would have continued to fall had one of the guardsmen not reached out and caught her on the shoulder blade, there preventing the young lady from smashing her head on the masonry.

As the guardsman helped Altira back to her feet, it was silent. And it was all Amaya could do to keep from laughing. But she had to not laugh, because once she started, she would be rolling in the laugh belting out guffawed tones. It was hilarious to her. But not to Lord Zamt'ris, while it did not show on his face or body, it made him quite irate to be humbled so soon before a new player in his Political game. The Lord merely smiled once the issue seemed resolved, "Shall we carry on? Our cooks have prepared quite the meal should it so please His Excellency."

The Lord and Lady bowed to him, and he respectfully bowed back, although not as deeply as they had. Each of their sons received an inclination of his head. They all knew that it wasn't the boys he was here to see. More's the pity, of course. Fine young men, he was sure, and that wasn't counting their appearance. Rather than let his eyes linger on them, he moved to the true focus and purpose for being here.

Dimitri let his eyes roam over each young lady as she was introduced. It took an effort of will and biting his tongue not to say anything as Bellamy curtsied to him. Fyarion preserve him! Was Lord Zamt'ris introducing a daughter or offering a buffet? He supposed another man might have found her revealing, attention-seeking clothing to be thrilling and enticing. All he could think was that he was looking for a wife, not a whore! He managed to keep his face schooled into careful neutrality, it wouldn't do to show clear disdain.

The next young woman, Amaya, was strikingly different from the first, and the others. Her hair was shock white and her eyes deep purple. She looked like her mother more than the other three. More than that, her robes were regal, but modest in comparison to her older sister. Indeed, of the four of them he would have to say she was probably dressed the most modestly and discreetly. That made him curious. Was she not trying to impress and entice him? Dimitri knew that he was here to meet all four girls, but perhaps Lord Zamt'ris was trying to direct his attention to one in particular. Maybe the oldest, given her shameless display.

It was a chore not to squint at the next girl. Juniper, was it? He had never seen such gaudy jewelry before in his life. It was a bit tasteless, was it not? At least Bellamy was trying to flaunt her own physical assets, as little interest to him as they might be. Did the girl think such jewelry, truly ugly in its opulence, would impress him? This really was a hopeless cause. What had ever made him think this was a good idea? A thousand girls could be paraded before him and he still wouldn't find one that he actually wanted.

Lastly came Altira, the youngest of them all. Her attempt to make herself stand out wasn't immediately obvious, until she attempted to curtsy. Dimitri was quite sure that was not the way in which she had hoped to make an impression! It took a great deal of effort not to flinch as the poor girl fell. While it was certainly embarrassing for her and her father, he was more concerned if she was alright. Thank Fyarion one of the guardsmen caught her before she struck her head. He was surprised when Lord Zamt'ris proceeded as if nothing had happened once the girl was situated again.

"I look forward to seeing the bounty your cooks have no doubt laid out. Please, do lead the way, Lord Zamt'ris." Dimitri had been torn about asking if the poor girl was alright, but since she was back on her feet he decided it would only embarrass her to draw attention to the incident. Instead he decided to pretend that nothing at all out of the ordinary had happened.

Though physically Altira was unharmed, her pride was more than a little wounded. It showed each time her height changed with each step. Amaya was smiling because of it. Served her right! After all their mother's warnings, it was proven true. Pride cometh before a fall. While it wasn't normally Amaya who would find the misfortune of others humorous, she couldn't help it here. Since hearing of the impending arrival of the High Lord, all of them had just become so vain and rude. Bellamy had tried to explain the honor in being chosen to wed the High Lord, to become a High Lady and experience the most lavish of lives. Amaya told her she was delusional, that is couldn't be much different than the life the already lived.

As the progression made their way to the dining hall, Dimitri was directed to one head of the table, Lord Zamt'ris on the other. Lady Zamt'ris sat to the left of her husband, Michael sat to the right of his father. As the eldest son, he had always claimed that spot, the other brothers filled in that end. On the other side of the table, Amaya and Bellamy were seated on either side of the far end, closest to Dimitri. Juniper and Altira sat to the left of the two older girls, a maid having brought Altira a more study set of heels. The first wave of food to be set out was not food at all, but bowls of hot water and lye soap, as well as a small towelette.

Lord Zamt'ris began, "So, Your Grace, how has fared your tour so far? I hear you visited the Martheens, truly a shame to hear about their daughter's ailment." And so it began, The Lord was quite the actor, he could point out great flaws in any family and make it sound like his heart bled for them, while in the same breath he would humbly brag about his own. "Bellamy recently stole the scene at a ball held by the Martheens, quite the dancer she is." Ah, there it was. Amaya finished cleaning her hands and dried them with the towelette. She briefly wondered how her father would praise her. The bowls were soon taken away and replaced with a green salad. As per custom, they all waited for the guest to start eating before taking up the first dish.

Dimitri was content to remain quiet as the rather flamboyant parade made its way to the dining hall. He wondered how much a spectacle they must appear to someone not familiar and accustomed to these grand displays of excess. At least this was the last house. Just another week of all the pretending and he could be home and back to business as usual. Except he would have to decide on a girl if he hadn't by then, and once he had picked one, there would be wedding plans. Half of Moonspear would wish to attend, no doubt.

He took his place at one head of the table when directed, Lazar appeared immediately at the left arm of his chair as everyone took their seats. Dimitri removed his gloves fluidly and handed them to the construct, who took them with a bow before retreating from the table to stand quietly against a wall out of the way. Lilac eyes observed each of the other occupants of the table silently as he washed his hands and listened to Lord Zamt'ris begin the conversation, his expression was somewhat reserved, which he hoped they would simply attribute to weariness from a great deal of travel. Not entirely untrue, of course.

"Did she? A pity that I was not in attendance, but as you can imagine I have been very busy of late. Perhaps I will get to see all your lovely daughters dance soon, and maybe even have the opportunity to dance with them." Not that he actually had any interest in dancing with any of them, let alone Bellamy, but it would not do to be a rude guest. "As for my tour, I fear it has been quite wearisome. The hospitality I have been shown at each house was to be commended, of course, but long weeks away from home is not ideal, especially when there is so much to do."

A smile played across Dimitri's face as the salad was brought, "Every house after the first has seen the early conversation always turns to fishing for an answer to a question no one wishes to ask directly for fear of seeming over eager or rude. I am sure you and your daughters are very curious as to if I have come to a decision already after meeting a girl from one of the previous houses. I have not." With that he took the first bite of his salad, quiet content to see how each of the girls, and the entire family really, would react to that news. He was curious to see just how eager each would be at such a proclamation.

Amaya nodded at the proclamation with idle interest, it would have been rude not to, but seeing that the lord had begun to eat, so too did she. Briefly, the white-haired girl wondered how quickly she could be away from this dinner, back to her books or just roaming the garden with her familiars pondering unsolvable queries from the art of Summoning. She blew the thought from her mind. She was sitting next to the High Lord of all Moonspear, it was highly unlikely that she could just sneak away.

The rest of the room seemed to shift pressures twice. First with relief, then with anxiety as each of the girls tried to think of ways to gain the favor and affection of the High Lord. Amaya could see the upturned corner of Bellamy's mouth, or the wide and enthusiastic eyes of Juniper and Altira. Internally, she was groaning. Maybe it was just something she would never come to understand.

"If my memory serves me well" Surprisingly, it was Amaya who broke the silence first, she sought to turn the attention away from the bride picking, after all, it was somewhat uncommon for a High Lord to visit, "You are one of the youngest people to ever be named the High Lord over Moonspear, Do you think this is advantageous or disadvantageous?" Might as well squeeze in some actual conversation while they could.

Three faces looked hopeful, but one seemed only to acknowledge Dimitri's continued availability with the minimum required interest to be considered polite. Even if she feigned enough interest not to be rude, he still couldn't help but wonder if he should feel insulted. It was true that he had no real desire to find a wife aside from having no other choice, but this thinly veiled indifference was starting to make him itch.

That Amaya should be the first of the women to actually speak to him caused him to arch a brow at her curiously for a moment. Her question was even more interesting. All the girls before had only been interested in flirting, flattering, and fawning over him in the most disgusting of ways, or of subtly, and not so subtly, making sure he knew just why they would make the perfect wife. It was exhausting to say the least. Not to mention tedious beyond all reason.

"That is actually false and misleading. I am not even close to the youngest High Lord of Moonspear, I am merely the youngest to be appointed when the ruling house has changed hands. Which, of course, has only happened twice now. If my last name were not Orlov, were I from the previous family, no one would question my taking the position at court." It was a rather infuriating double standard. If the previous High Lord and Lady had a direct heir, even if it were but a child of fifteen, they would have taken the high seat and no one would have questioned it because of tradition.

"House Orlov served both of the previous ruling houses faithfully and without falter. We would have continued to do so, had the seat not become vacant. Some claim that I am too ambitious, or rash, because I am young. I am not so young as to have boyish naivety or foolishness. I have been the head of my house for near a decade now and House Orlov thrives stronger than ever. Some are merely jealous that I have both vision and am still young enough to pursue such vision. The only disadvantage to my age is the prejudice of my fellow lords and ladies. If it would silence them I would pray for grey hair, but it would not. Instead I will focus on more important matters, such as serving Moonspear and her people, as I always have."

Amaya regarded his words while delighting in her salad. Her sisters each looked at her with varying levels of shock. Amaya continues as the salad was replaced with pan seared lamb-chops, "All people in great positions have faced oppositions, The fact that the only opposition to arise so far is your age and name is perhaps a very good sign." The serving staff started laying out glasses of wine as Lord Zamt'ris finally spoke up, trying to regain control that was arrested from him by his own daughter.

"That's my girl. Amaya's got a good and optimistic head planted firmly on her shoulders. She's also an accomplished summoner! Now then.." And the lord started to drone about various happenings with the Zamt'ris Fief, such as opening trade to the Sinclair Trading Company and the good and wealth it has brought it. Amaya took a sip of the wine, uncaring for the updates that came from her father. While both her younger sisters considered her with some amount of shock, though Bellamy seemed to have recovered.

"It is a sign only that those are the most easy things for them to currently attack." Dimitri said with as much amusement as he could muster. Which wasn't a lot. His eyes had moved to Lord Zamt'ris as he picked up his wine glass, bringing the glass to his face and swirling it softly to savor the scent for a moment before taking a sip with satisfaction as he listened to him speak of trade dealings and how his lands were doing.

Topics to be expected, and ones he actually paid careful attention to. After all, it was his duty to know the goings on in Moonspear. Even lords opposed to him needed to prosper for the good of all of the province. These trade deals with the Sinclair family were of keen interest. Featherfall was one of Moonspear's neighboring provinces, and he liked hearing news from all over the kingdom. It was such a shame, he'd heard that Lord Sinclair's daughter had vanished without a trace. How tragic, and unfortunate. The Sinclair family had risen from very successful merchants into the nobility, and as such were quite young at court in comparison to Orlov or Zamt'ris, but one did have to admire such tenacity.

For a few minutes he was content to let Zamt'ris talk while he tucked into his lamb-chops, which were excellent. The wine had been very good as well. Everything always was the very best at each house he stopped at. Everyone was scrambling to impress him while there was a chance for a daughter to become the High Lady. So far the only truly interesting thing he had learned about any of the young women was that Amaya was a summoner.

"Excuse me, Lord Zamt'ris, please do forgive the interruption, but if I may redirect the conversation slightly? You said that Lady Amaya was a summoner and I find myself curious if any of your other daughters possess any magical skill. It is a topic of great interest to me. Only a few of the young women I have met on this tour have had any skill to speak of in the arcane."

Altira suddenly perked up while Juniper seemed to deflate to a proportional level to her sister. "Martin has been teaching me about Telekinetics! Watch this!" The youngest daughter extended her hand to her glass, which was a handful of inches from her hand. For a moment, nothing happened. Then slowly, her glass started to shake, yet still planted in the spot. Then very slowly, the glass slid to her hand with ease. An observant person might have noticed that Martin was readjusting his wedding band, fingers subtly moving because of it. Altira raised her glass and beamed at Dimitri, her pride restored and swelling.

Bellamy was biting her lower lip, saying nothing. She had knowledge of the arcane too. But it was more than a little tabooed within Moonspear. Her fingertips could drive men and women mad, though, not in the same ways that anyone else could. She knew primal magic. While her two eldest brothers had been training as recruits for the Order of the Moon, she nicked one of their books detailing the magical art. At the time, she had been jealous of her sister, learning summoning. Now she was well versed in the art, and practiced more than a little bit. It's how she was never at a shortage of willing bedmates, how she never seemed to come of child no matter the number of men she bedded. If caught, it likely cause her to be put to the sword.

Dimitri watched as Altira perked up, eager to tell and show him what she had learned. It was certainly an interesting display to watch the glass shake unsteadily before suddenly it miraculously moved with ease. Well, miraculously if you did not take not of wiggling fingers further down the table. To be fair, her brother did try to be very subtle, and had Dimitri not been looking for such signs, he might have missed the magical intervention.

"How very marvelous, my lady." He feigned a smile and raised his glass to Altira, not willing to crush the obvious pride she was feeling at how she had 'moved' the glass, especially after her embarrassing tumble earlier. It wouldn't do to tear down her confidence as she was trying to learn. Although he had to wonder just who that intervention had been for. Had her brother done it so his sister would feel pleased with herself or so that she would not make another blunder in front of him? Impossible for him to know without asking, which would be rude and no guarantee of the truth.

Turning his eyes to the other women, he noted their expressions. Ignoring Bellamy, he focused his attention on the seemingly disappointed Juniper. Judging by her reaction she must not have any magical gifts. He did not want her to feel bad about it. After all, magic was not a requirement by any means. Dimitri smiled warmly at her over his glass. "Lady Juniper, you have a sister that dances beautifully, a sister that is telekinetic, and a sister who can summon. I am simply dying to hear what special talent you must certainly possess. Perhaps you have a lovely singing voice or play an exquisite instrument?"

Altira seemed to radiate happiness, what with being complimented by the high lord of all Moonspear and all. Juniper, however, felt rather put on the spot, her mind seemed thick, like syrup. She struggled to find something redeeming about herself, something that stood out.

"She's a damn good Violinist." Came the rough voice of Micheal, he paused to take a drink of wine before adding, "An even better pianist, easily the most musically gifted of us all." Juniper seemed to shrink under the compliment, as bashful as she was. "She could likely learn any instrument you could give her, have a few songs picked out by hour." Added Altira as Juniper's cheeks reddened harshly. Bellamy chirped in, "It's thanks to her that my own playing is tolerable, as opposed to causing deafness." before Amaya added, "And if she should you get her to play a harp, you'd find it more relaxing than the softest bed."

Even in the half light of the dining hall, the blush on Juniper's cheeks were unmistakable. Her family had rallied around her when she faltered, much like they always did. Juniper was the glue that held together decency when the family dynamic turned dramatic. She was the family sweet heart, the one that could unite them to a common goal no matter the situation. Despite any quarrel, the job of a family was to build each other up, and thanks to that, Juniper found her voice. "Yes, Milord, as my brother and sisters have said, I am good with an instrument."

Poor girl, Dimitri observed her struggle, his gentle smile never changing as his lilac eyes regarded warmly. It was almost inspiring the way her siblings rallied around her, singing her praises in regards to musical talent. Any one of her sisters could have tried to downplay any desirable traits, could have tried to announce their own strengths to him, but they hadn't. It was a closely knit family, it would seem. At least from the outside looking in.

"It would honor me if you would play for me sometime during my stay, Lady Juniper." He had to go through the motions. Dimitri smiled and said what he was expected to say. The young women would hear what they wanted to hear, but there was no real heart in it. This had told him much about Juniper herself. She was bashful and had practically wilted under pressure. There would be a lot of pressure as the High Lady.

What a gifted family, each in their own ways. Nearly all of the young women he had met on this tour were fine young ladies, each worth knowing. It didn't matter. He could enjoy the company of most of the young women, but there would never be a spark. There would not be lust or passion no matter how many he spoke with. His marriage would feel hollow regardless of who he chose and that made it all the harder in some ways to choose.

"Such lovely daughters you have, Lord Zamt'ris. How is a man to choose between them?"

Lord Zamt'ris raised his glass to Dimitri and bowed his head, the usual response to a great compliment. "With no small amount of hard thought, and perhaps the council of those that know them best, Your Grace." As the lambchops were replaced by healthy portions of chocolate rum cake and wine glasses were topped of across the table.

These talks were, more or less, boring for Amaya. It was, however, petty interesting to watch Lord Orlov and try to gauge his thoughts. He hadn't looked in Bellamy's direction for more than a few seconds. He wasn't even considering her. The White-haired Lady wondered what had caused it. Logically speaking, Juniper was likely also no longer a feasible option for a wife. She faltered under the generally small amount of pressure that was around the table. That would be nothing compared to life of a High Lady.

Casting her eyes about the room, she took stock of Lord Orlov's servant. Were his eyes... glowing? With her hands politely under the table as she waited for Dimitri to take the first bite of the dessert, she began to rub her hands together. Her brand of summoning magic required three things, a Contract, a Medium, and a Catalyst. Usually, the Contract determined the Medium and the Catalyst. This particular spell was with the spirit of a firefly, the Medium was heat, the Catalyst was friction. It was useful having something she could always summon.

Within a few seconds, the firefly was in her hand, asking it's purpose into her mind. She willed it to explore the servant, learn about him. Meanwhile, Micheal spoke up again, "My pardons, m'lord, but would it be out of line if I were to inquire about any skill you possess with a blade, bow, or spear? I am certain that m'lord will pick a fine champion, but it would be reassuring to know that my Lord Sovereign is versed in the ways of conflict should the need ever arise."

Oh yes, of course Lord Zamt'ris would want to weigh in on which of his daughters became the next High Lady. He was sure every single member of the family had a favorite of the four. Dimitri felt weary just thinking about the long, probably tedious discussions that would assault him in the coming week. Although discussion was being generous, no doubt his talking would be at a minimum and it would be more like hearing a sales pitch from an ambitious trader. At least, if past experience at the other four houses were any indication of what he could expect here.

"I look forward to hearing the council of you all, and to spending time with your daughters to learn more about each of them, of course." Dimitri hated to lie so extravagantly, but anything less in this instance would be considered rude. Hopefully the women would surprise him and simply be themselves, he was sure they were probably very pleasant young ladies in such context. Unfortunately he doubted he was likely to see much of the real women. They would probably be too busy posturing and fawning over him. All for a title and some illusion of a grand lifestyle they undoubtedly had.

At least desert had arrived, and more wine. He wasn't sure if he was more excited about how decadent the cake looked or the fact that it signified that dinner was nearing an end. Either way he took a bite and savored it, knowing that no one else would touch theirs until he had, such tedious posturing it all was. Still, tradition and customs were important culturally as a whole, so he went through the motions as he was taught to.

He turned his eyes to Micheal as the young man spoke, regarding him thoughtfully for several moments. "Allow me to try to reassure you, then. My person is under excellent guard, as you no doubt saw upon my arrival. I was educated in military affairs, but steel is not my weapon. I am a politician, a scholar, and a mage. My magic and mind are my weapons and armor. Forgive me if I disappoint you, but I am no warrior."

Against the far wall, Lazar remained a silent and immobile sentinel until the little firefly approached him. The construct raised on gloved hand to hover before the very small gap between collar and hat, allowing the little spirit to land and rest upon his finger as he quietly observed the little creature and it, in turn, observed him.

Amaya chewed her bite of cake thoughtfully, she loved rum cake but barely tasted it. She was a bit distracted by the small amount of information that the firefly fed her. So the servant was a magical construct, and it seemed to possess some amount of sentience or Dimitri was able to control it from afar. Maybe she would get the chance to ask him about it during his stay.

On the other end of the table, it was Martin who replied instead of Micheal, "I beg your pardons, Milord, but you're wrong. All people are warriors in their own right. No less than a knight or a ranger is a warrior, the only difference is the weapon, and a weapon is merely a means to an end. Take Juniper and Bellamy for example, their weapons are music and dancing, respectively. Both tools are quintessential in the battle for the moral of a group. Your weapons serve you best in your battlefield, the courts of Moonspear." To which Micheal interjected, "You'll have to excuse him, he thinks he's far more profound than he actually is. As you can see, Martin possesses the depth of a puddle after the rain." The comment sent both brothers into silent, shoulder shaking laughter. Seems the wine had been flowing far more freely on that end of the table.

Lord Zamt'ris snapped his fingers and two servants came from the shadows at the edge of the room and started to help the older brothers out of their chairs. The Lord has noticed that his sons were both well into their drinks, and now that they were starting to speak, it was time to remove them from the area, "Apologies, Your Grace, but I should tend to my sons. I do so hope the meal was satisfactory, Amaya can show you to the guest quarters. The rest of you, off to your rooms." It was only as the rest of her family started to filter out, that she spared a glance at the waterclock. It was well after eleven, fast approaching midnight. Where had all the time gone?! She quickly dispelled the firefly before smiling towards Dimitri, "Would you like to head to the Guest Suite now, Lord Orlov? Or we can stay and chat while we finish our cake. Or I could show you around the Manor. Wouldn't want you to get lost during your stay."

Dimitri's initial reaction when Martin began speaking was to arch a brow at him, very few people would tell him he was wrong about anything. Of course the very wordy little speech that followed was greeted with the same unreadable expression as the high lord held his tongue while staring at Martin with his pale purple eyes. It quickly became apparent that both Michael and Martin had lost their heads in their wine, probably consuming more than they should under the circumstances.

Lord Zamt'ris was quick to usher them, and his entire family, from the meal. Bringing the dinner to a close as gracefully as he could. Dimitri could only incline his head slightly to his host as the family began to file out. Except Amaya, certainly the most unique-looking of the daughters. While relieved it was her and not Bellamy, he had to question why the eldest daughter had not been charged with tending to the guest. Something for him to ponder later, for now he turned to Amaya with an easy smile.

"So many options, my lady. It is rather late for a tour, and I beg your forgiveness, but I am weary from so much travel. Although it shames me to pass up an opportunity to explore with such a lovely guide. Perhaps tomorrow? More importantly, how ungentlemanly it would be of me to not allow the lady to finish her dessert? Especially when it is this excellent." With a chuckle he took another bite of his cake. All of the food had been quite delicious, and he was looking forward to seeing what would be served throughout the week during his stay.

"Apologies, M'lord, You are right, A tour this late at night run risk of being left in dreamscapes. I could come and get you in the morning, before breakfast? That way It can be fresh throughout the day." Amaya took another bite of her rum cake, wondering why she had been chosen as opposed to Bellamy. It occurred to her that her father had likely noticed what she had.

In truth, she didn't know what to try and talk with him about. And for such a small plate there seemed to be quite alot of the dessert left. On both their plates. "I hope my brothers hadn't offended you. Their good men, the both of them. And the fact that they would even attempted something like that, under the influence of the cups or not, shows that they think you too are a good man, one worth knowing."

"No apologies needed, my lady. I think a morning tour before breakfast sounds delightful." Dimitri really was interested in seeing more of the property, so his interest did not even have to be feigned on that matter. Also, of the four young women he was expected to spend his week with, he could certainly say that Amaya was not the least pleasant. Hopefully the time would not drag by and the company would be at least tolerable.

They had plenty of dessert left, and though it was good he wondered how they would even steer the conversation between eating. What did he really talk about to a woman that he might have to marry? He turned his eyes to her as she spoke about her brothers, considering what to say while savoring a bite of his cake. "They have not offended me, and I suppose I should feel complimented in that case. I do like to think that I am not a completely without my merits. Although I do not know if I would call myself a good man. That seems...presumptuous, somehow. I am an imperfect man that tries to do good things."

Dimitri chuckled at himself. "Listen to me. I am becoming as philosophical as your Martin. A sure sign of particularly good wine."

Amaya chuckled softly, "Perhaps that is not a bad thing, Lord Orlov. Some of the greatest minds in magic have been sage-like hermits. It's part of what makes their journals so difficult to decipher. Like a giant riddle." she picked up her wine glass, looking at the dark red liquid before setting it aside. The alcohol already warmed her, any more and she risked making a fool of herself. "If you don't mind my asking, were you always gifted with magic or were you taught? Or was it a mix of both?"

"I was born gifted with spirit magic, but it did not really manifest until early childhood. I think I was four when my first significant magic actually occurred. One of the family cats died, a grey tom with white boots that I was very fond of, but for weeks after the old thing had been buried they would still find me talking to it, and occasionally the servants swore they saw it following me about the house. After that I was tutored extensively, of course, and eventually there was no more talk of the cat, because it had gone. Its spirit finally moved on, I suppose." Dimitri paused thoughtfully for a moment, shaking his head. "What of you? Were you naturally prone to summoning or is it a purely taught skill?"

Amaya listened to his story with genuine interest, nodding where appropriate. When the high lord turned the question back on her, she looked thoughtful for a moment. "A bit of both, actually. When I was younger, I had some amount of talent crafting wards, weak magical barriers, things like that. When David was training for knighthood, he came across a journal. It was paradoxically written and he couldn't decipher it. So I took it off his hands." She paused to take a bite of the cake.

"What I soon found out was that it detailed the practice of summoning. Even with my once tutors helping me to reveal its secrets, it was quite the endeavor. After sever years with it, I think I know most of what it wants to share, and some of what it doesn't. I just with I could figure out who wrote it in the first place." Placing focus back Dimitri's eyes, "I am grateful for my understanding of wards. When you first summon a spirit, before making a contract with them, they can be quite dangerous." Amaya grabbed the center claw on her Medium Necklace between her index finger and thumb, showcasing it to Lord Orlov. It was a tiger claw, "This one was quite the fearsome beast, I have since learned him to be quite docile."

It was with rapt attention that Dimitri took in Amaya's recounting of her experiences with wards and this mysterious journal on the subject of summoning. What he wouldn't give to get his hands on such a book. Not that he had ever took a practical interest in summoning, but it was still fascinating and something that he was sure to be capable of if he only applied himself to the task. Most interesting was the amount of time it had taken her to decipher the writing. Surely such a transcript would be highly worthwhile.

"That is all quite astounding. Please, before I leave you simply must let me see this journal. I cannot afford years devoted to studying it, but just to have a few minutes with it would be quite thrilling. Not to mention I would love to see your work first hand." There was no pretending now, Dimitri was genuinely interested and excited by the idea of seeing Amaya work and of seeing this book of hers.

Calm yourself Amaya, he isn't that interested. He is trying to be cordial. Try and think herself down all she like, the girl couldn't help deny that having someone other than family take an interest in her hobby was, flattering. Perhaps a bit staggering. But she wasn't Juniper, and she sure as hell wasn't Bellamy. She wasn't going to loose her head over this. "I would be honored to share the journal and some of my knowledge with you, Lord Orlov." she spoke calmly, with a smile and a courteous nod.

The ringing of spoons against bowls told them both that the cake was gone, and the timely chime of the clock told them that Midnight had come, "Shall I guide you to your suite now, Your Grace."

Lilac eyes practically lit up, Dimitri grinned as she agreed to share her magical talents with him before he left. They were very similar, in their magic, although he specialized in healing and she worked with summoning. Both were forms of spirit magic. There weren't a great many mages that were exceptionally talented with magic of the spirit, elemental affinities such as fire, air, earth, and water were much more common.

They had finished dessert, and he heard the clock signal the arrival of midnight. How late it had gotten! Dimitri had been on the road since dawn and found himself quite worn out, despite his excitement regarding this mysterious journal. With a weary smile he stood from the table and gestured to Lazar who immediately brought his gloves, which he took and pulled on.

"If everything I have seen so far has been any indication, I imagine my suite is a veritable paradise. Please lead the way, Lady Amaya."

Amaya stood and politely pushed her chair in, "If you will follow me, I will show you to the Suite." She spoke calmly while she tried with some success to smother the fluttering in her chest. This wasn't like her. It's the wine, she assured herself. The Lady walked out of the dining hall and into the main hall. Ascending the grand staircase and turning down another hall, where she quickly him to a set of wide Oaken doors.

"Here you are, M'lord. I wish you a restful sleep. I will be here an hour after dawn for your tour. If you need anything, there is a silver bell on your nightstand, ring it and the house staff will be here post haste. Before I go, is there anything else I can do for you?"

Dimitri bowed his head lightly to Amaya and followed her silently through the house. Lazar followed but a few steps behind him, moving almost as silently as a ghost, and almost as unnoticed as one as well. During the quiet and brief walk, the High Lord tried to contemplate how his week spent with the Zamt'ris family might go, but thoughts of a warm, soft bed kept distracting him. He really was tired. Perhaps a bit anxious as well. These weeks away from Rillaria put him very behind on important paperwork.

They reached the beautifully carved oak doors to his suite and Dimitri turned to his hostess with a grateful smile as she gave instructions before asking if there was anything more he could need from her. "I think that will be all for the night, Lady Amaya. I think I've kept you from your own bed quite long enough. Thank you for the very pleasant company." With that he actually bowed to her quite graciously.

"May all your dreams be pleasant, my lady." Dimitri said softly as he straightened, before pushing open the door and stepping inside. Lazar followed him, also bowing to Amaya before he shut the doors wordlessly.

Amaya returned the bow to both Dimitri and his servant. The young Lady would have to remember to ask a name for him. Or it, Amaya reminded herself. The white haired woman hurried back to her own room, eager to rest despite the fact that her head would not shut up.

--------

Morning game quickly for those who didn't get to sleep before midnight. Likely that Amaya's sisters were all up pacing long after both the high lord and Amaya went to sleep, so they were unlikely to be up so soon after dawn. Amaya on the other hand, was up and dressed in a nice, semiformal gown. Perfect for interaction with guests who would be staying for a while. The fabric was a soft purple, almost of a similar shade to the high lords eyes, though it were unintentional on her part.

True to her word, Amaya waited on a nearby bench in the hallway outside the Lord's suite, two mugs sat with her, still steaming hot chocolate for her, and coffee for him. She had asked one of his guardsmen if he knew how the High Lord liked it, only to be given a strange look. So she instead brought a small container of milk and sugar with her.

It was very late when he retired for the evening, and despite his excitement about the journal, Dimitri found himself ready for bed and easily asleep within minutes. Usually he tossed and turned at least a little when sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, but not tonight. He'd have thought it curious if he wasn't so tired.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lazar woke him before dawn, heating water in a small basin so that Dimitri could refresh himself and shave before dressing. A black, high-collared, quilted doublet embroidered with golden thread, black pants, and the construct had polished his boots. He checked himself in the mirror, making sure he looked very lordly, as appearances were unfortunately everything in this instance, before stepping into the hallway.

Amaya was waiting for him with two steaming mugs of something, and he gave her an easy smile. "I hope I did not keep you waiting too long, my lady. Are you normally up this early? I hope I haven't denied you sleep."

Amaya curtsied to Dimitri, "I haven't been here but a few moments, M'lord. Hardly a wait at all. And more often then not I am. I find an early start gives me quite the jump on the day. Allows me to Accomplish so much more and feel better while doing it." She gestured to the small tray on a portable stand. "I brought some coffee, I find a warm drink serves to drive away the last tendrils of sleep still clinging to the morning. But I didn't know how you drink your coffee" Or if you drink coffee, "So I also brought along some cream and sugar as well." The young lady informed him, ready to prepare the drink how ever he wanted it, as was customary. A hostess must serve her guest.

"How thoughtful you are, Lady Amaya. I wasn't expecting all this," Dimitri gestured to the portable stand with a grin, "I would say you've gone above and beyond the call of your duty as a hostess, except I have seen the lengths some of the young ladies have been going to make an impression on me. You're a downright delight in comparison." He actually gave a slight grimace, a grand showing of just how bad it had been! Thank Fyarion that it was almost over. All he had to do was survive the week, and so far this had been bearable. Although he knew that it would only get worse. The other sisters hadn't yet had a chance to corner him. Yet.

"An ounce of cream, no sugar, please. After that cake last night I daresay I should watch how much sugar I indulge in this morning." Dimitri returned to the easy smile, trying to put aside his dreadful anticipation of the reception the other three women might give him today as they really started to try to win him over.

Amaya was admittedly a bit taken aback by his free speech regarding the other women he had had the 'pleasure' of playing guest to. Part of her wondered why he would share that. "My mother has always taught that a favored guest should be treated better within our walls than their own." She smiled and added, "It's what keeps them coming back."

While adding cream to his coffee, the lady couldn't help but giggle softly at his comment, "I can hear the gossip now, housemaids of all Serendipity and abroad would be in a fit over the young High Lord that was felled over a sweet tooth. Though, it wouldn't be the first time if my memory servers me more accurately than it did last night." She handed him over the mug with a, "Careful, it's hot." before taking up her own mug, taking a long drink from it.

The mug wrapped in both hands, she smiled, "Shall we?"

It might not have been strictly correct to speak so freely about his previous hostesses, but Dimitri was more than tired of the pedestal that he found himself upon within these homes. Yes, he was an important guest, and the hospitality was to be expected, but he wasn't talking about bringing him coffee and being pleasant company. These women had been throwing themselves upon him, attempting to endear themselves to him, all for some imaginary benefit to themselves. Being High Lady of Moonspear wasn't going to be half as glamorous as some of these girls seemed to assume.

Knowing how fake they were being didn't help him choose a wife either. Ultimately it didn't matter to anyone if he even liked his wife as long as duty was done. Dimitri still wanted to at least have a wife that he could stand to be around. He took his now creamed coffee with a sigh. "Truthfully I worry more about my waist. I am not the most athletic of men, and as I said last night not a warrior. If I ate too many sweets I fear my future bride would have a very portly groom. Knowing my luck my naysayers would start crowing about my weight."

Amaya's calmness never left her, "It is not my place to comment on My Lord's diet, but you don't seem like a man to needlessly over indulge. I doubt that should be an issue for you. Now, shall we begin the tour?" The white haired lady began to walk in a slow pace, a 'conversation pace' as her mother called it. It was largely unhurried and could be maintained autonomously without much thought at all. It allowed for proper conversations, or unguided wanderings while lost in thought.

"Manor Zamt'ris is build around two great hallways, that intersect like a 'T' on both levels. As long as you can find either of these hallways, where you want to go should be pretty straightforward, with little divination. Presently, we are on the first floor of the east wing. Our guest suites. Also on this floor of the wing are a series of conference rooms, and a small smoking room. If you use a pipe, which I suspect you don't, the smoking room is well stocked with various tobaccos. The second floor is where my, and my siblings bedrooms are. Located on the west wing is a bathing quarters and Launder. This being an older Manor, we don't have baths for each individual room. I will tell you more about them when we stop by later in the tour."

"Lastly" Amaya added, "On the center hallway, is the dining hall, the kitchen, and the ballroom. Any questions?" She asked keeping the gentle pace for the west wing.

"Thank you, I take that as a compliment." Dimitri smiled, taking a place beside Amaya as she began a very leisurely pace down the hall. It was a nice speed, he could very easily sip his coffee while listening to her explain the layout and location of the key locations within the manor. The delivery of the information was rather like a lecture, he mused as his eyes moved over each doorway or decoration they passed.

After the staggering familiarity some of the other girls had tried to employ in his company it was actually slightly strange in the company of a lady so very impersonal towards him. Amaya was obviously doing her best to be a good hostess, but he wasn't sure he was trying to convince him to choose her for a wife. Her father would want all his daughters trying to win him over, four young women would increase the odds that at least one of them would catch his interest, but it could be that she honestly didn't want to be picked. That was something to think on.

"Yes, what of the outdoor facilities? Do you have many gardens? What about stables?" Sometime after breakfast he would have to see about having a long stroll on the grounds. The fresh air was always invigorating, promoting clearer thinking.

"Well" Amaya screwed her eyes up thoughfully, "Behind the house is an area my brothers refer to as the proving ground. It's where they hone their particular set of skills. We do have a stable, but it is a bit removed from the house, it was built before the forest that used to surround the house was cleared out. So it's located in what was another clearing, now it is just a slightly inconvenient walk. Takes about fifteen minutes to walk there, though I believe Altira has the walk in under seven. She loves riding and is quite good at it."

"There are two gardens on either side of the house, my father will normally host a soiree in one or the other during the summer months, if the weather permits." She left out the third garden, that could only be accessed from within the house. That was her garden, it was a private place for her, a refuge.

As they approached the west wing, the smell of hot water filled the air. "Now, our wash rooms are a bit queer. If you so desire, I can show you how to call for water." She said with a slight blush, "Or, one of the servants can demonstrate it to you, or you can try to figure it out on your own. Though, most guests need to be shown." That was a bit of a lie, all guests in the past had needed to be shown. But she wouldn't dare insult his intelligence by implying there was no way Lord Dimitri couldn't figure it out on his own.

Dimitri took in all the information while sipping his coffee thoughtfully. It might be worth visiting each of those places. At these so-called proving grounds he could undoubtedly see some of Amaya's brothers training, and it would be very enlightening to observe them each in their practice. For the stables, well he wasn't an excellent rider, but his skills weren't horrible, and it would be a good way to spend time with Altira if riding was a passion of hers. He still would have to find good activities to do with Bellamy and Juniper, even if he knew that neither was going to be chosen.

The gardens he would like to see for himself. He loved gardens, mostly because his mother had loved them. Up until rising to High Lord and moving to Rillaria Dimitri had tended his mother's garden personally, and still wished that he could do so. However the groundskeeper was a trustworthy man and knew just how his mother had liked her garden.

Pulling his mind back to the present he tilted his head at the blush on Amaya's face as she offered to show him how to call for water in their wash rooms. "If you would rather a servant demonstrate when I am in need of the knowledge, that is fine, Lady Amaya, there is no need for you to show me yourself."

Amaya nodded in thanks, "This house is vastly different than others I have seen. It really does nothing to curb the rumors towards the persistence of Zamt'ris Ancestry." She was speaking on the fact that, for many decades, the heads of the House Zamt'ris were quite proud and extremely vocal as to their fae bloodlines, tracing back to the Winter Courts of Fae. For a time, over a century ago, there was a cult dedicated to the worship of the Zamt'ris Family, focusing on those who possessed the unique trait that was rampant throughout the Family's bloodline. That same cult has been squashed and disbanded by it's own vengeful idol.

"On the floor above is where Laundry is done, but you need not worry about it. Should you need something cleaned, simply alert the staff. It will be cleaned and returned to you in a matter of hours. Usually less than three." The lady screwed her eyes up thoughtfully, doubling over all she had said in order to make sure there was nothing else that he needed to know about this end of the house.  Nodding, she began to lead him off again, back the way they came.

This time, she turned down the longer of the Grand Hallways and again into the ballroom. Tall windows streamed in light all across the room and cut through the air like curtains. Walking a few paces ahead of Dimitri, she turned sharply on her heels, causing the ends of her gown and hair to twirl around her, both catching the light as they cross the sunbeams. "Now you know of all the rooms throughout the house, and been in all the important one." Amaya said with a soft smile, a friendly smile. "Would you like to cut through the garden and head to the back of the house? Likely you could see Micheal, Martin, and David finish the first of their training sessions for the day."

Everyone knew that the Zamt'ris family bloodlines had always held considerable fae influence. Many of the oldest families had some form of fae far back in their family line, including the Orlov family. However his family had diverged from the fae ancestry many, many generations ago and rarely spoke of it. Only the prominent lilac hair and eyes spoke of their non-human predecessors. Moonspear was a province devoted to Fyarion, but the rural areas still leaned towards fae worship - an unsavory blemish on the province as far as many were concerned. The Zamt'ris family's ties to those rural people was one reason Dimitri was even here.

"While such rumors can be problematic in certain contexts, in others they are a boon. After all, the extensive and rich history of your family is why this house was one of those choosen - that and the availability of four lovely unwed daughters of age." He flashed a smile at her over his coffee as he brought it up for a deep drink. The information on laundry didn't interest him greatly, but it was useful nonetheless. Lazar would ensure his things were clean and in order for him, including seeing that his laundry was cleaned and pressed.

They entered the ballroom, which was very grand - he wondered how magnificent it would be alive with a large party. The music, the dancing, ah - what a sight that would be. Amaya had been walking a few steps ahead of him, but she spun around to face him, and the way the light played across her white hair as it and her dress twirled with her movement...

Dimitri stopped dead in his tracks, lilac eyes widening slightly. She was still speaking, but for a moment he couldn't really hear the words. It was a strange sensation! Very few women could make Dimitri Orlov pause, let alone take his breath away. Despite his lack of sexual attraction, he could appreciate the beauty in a feminine form - and Amaya was...

"As lovely as the first spring rose." The words came out softly and unbidden. Coughing softly and covering his mouth with a hand to cover the gentle tint of color that arose in his cheeks at the slip. He certainly hadn't meant to say that! It was true, but he hadn't meant to say it. "Yes, I think a short walk through the gardens and around to see your brothers at their training is a fine idea."

The young lady's face briefly flashed with shock at his statement before returning to the knowingly amused look that Amaya had learned from her mother. Lord Orlov's statement caught her off guard. To say she had been expecting such a statement would be words like clear glass, that is to say; easily seen through.

Amaya give a quick curtsy before turning again with an easy grace, her mask already back in place. "If you'll follow me, Lord Orlov." She lead him across the ballroom to a set of large oaken doors, forcing them open with ease. They opened into the garden. And quite the garden it were. Or would be, if not for the fact that most every plant were prepping to sleep away the approaching winter. It was quite simple to see the mesh dome of wooden bars covering the wide expanse of the garden. During spring and summer, it would be a ballroom of ivy and grape vines. A sight to behold, in mid summer.

"I pray you'll excuse the sight, during the summer the dome is overgrown with ivy and grapes. The master farmers must have already cleared it away before the vines die. If you want to see something remarkable, come back during the summer, This place comes alive." Like the Fae courts of old and worn faerie stories. She left that last bit off. It was improper to brag on Fae heritage. And the Zamt'ris name has quite a bit of it.

His slip of the tongue might have been noticed, but Dimitri was thankful when it was not pointed out. Honestly it was rather embarrassing. Dimitri Orlov did not say things when he did not mean to! The incident passed and Amaya led him into the garden off the ballroom. His eyes were immediately drawn to the metal mesh dome, peering it it curiously for several moments while Amaya explained about the grape vines that would have been there in the summer.

"How interesting. None of the gardens at the castle in Rillaria have domes for vines, in fact, I believe this is the first time I've seen a full dome. There are some trellises for wisteria in the garden at the Orlov Estate, but not at all like this." He turned his attention back to her, smiling and tilting his head. "I would be pleased to return in the summer, provided your father extends his most excellent hospitality again."

Turning his gaze elsewhere he examined the many plants that were preparing to go dormant for the winter. There was a very lovely and complimentary collection here, but it was the wrong time of year to get the full appreciation. That was actually a pity. "Let's continue, shall we?"

"I do believe my father would be quite... ardent for the opportunity to play host to you again. Though, I doubt he would say no to a request you have you within his estate. Looks very good on our family, outwardly mind you." Amaya state as she lead Dimitri though the garden and around to the back of the house. The worn path through the grass spoke clearly, the brothers spent a lot of time in the Proving Ground.

It wasn't long before the clacking of practice swords striking hard against each other could be made out clearly. Just as Amaya and Dimitri rounded the corner, it was clear who was going to win. David was facing off against Micheal, a short wooden sword in each hand while Micheal had a much longer two hand sword, also wooden. Micheal looked quite haggard whereas David seemed near refreshed.

David batted away a lunge and drove the point of his own sword home. Martin, who had been refereeing the bout, called out the hit and stepped between them. "Micheal, you were opening yourself up to much. Too much follow through. You had the advantage of reach here, you fell short because you could not consistently threaten your opponent with the tip of your sword. If you can't land a strike on your opponent, make sure they can't advance." Martin rounded on David, "What they hell was that? You could have ended the bout on six separate occasions, but instead, you toyed with him. Always go for the kill in a battle. Even an untrained fool with a kitchen knife can get lucky."

"And finally! Shame on the both of you," he began as a smile spread across his face, "For not saluting your Lord Sovereign as he because visible." It was then that the other brothers took notice of Amaya and Dimitri. All the brothers snapped into a soldier's salute in unison.

"I'm sure he will be eager to see me again after this visit." Of course Lord Zamt'ris would extend future invitations to the High Lord of the province. Undoubtedly Dimitri would receive countless invitations to all sorts of events, from grand balls to weddings, and more from any number of the noble houses. It would be a nice tangle of political nightmare. Having to carefully choose whose parties to attend and whom to politely decline begging one excuse or another.

His attention was drawn away from thoughts of parties by the sounds of practice weapons striking against each other. When they rounded the corner and the proving grounds came into view Dimitri took note of each of the three brothers present. Dimitri was especially keen to listen to Martin's chastising of David and Michael's mistakes.

Dimitri would have been quite content to have his presence ignored and for the three to continue about their business undisturbed, but naturally Amaya and his entrance had not gone unnoticed. When the three men turned to salute him very formally he bowed his head slightly to them in acknowledgement before cracking an easy smile. "At ease."

David was the first to take up the mantle of coversation, "To what do we owe the pleasure, M'lord? Care to try your magic against our weapons? Or would you rather observe the best warriors House Zamt'ris has ever produced spar?"

Micheal seized the opportunity, "Well yeah, I guess Martin and I could spar for a bit." Which earned him a cuff on the shoulder from his younger brother.

Amaya stepped in to save Dimitri from their pickings, "I was giving our honorable guest a tour of the estate, we decided to stop here and see if you three were stacking off in your training." She added a quip of her own before glancing up at the sky, "It will be about on hour before breakfast, make sure you three are cleaned up." Turning back to Dimitri, she added, "I can show you to the stables if you wish, or perhaps the family library is more to your liking."

Dimitri had immediately begun trying to think up an acceptable refusal to the offer of testing his magic against them, but was saved from it by Amaya who gracefully stepped in to excuse them. She was a very graceful young woman, wasn't she? Dimitri could admire her poise. Of course these were only her brothers they were dealing with, not the court, but it was a nice indication.

He smiled down at her before gesturing towards the manor. "I will find the library much more of interest, and the stables can be saved for another time or another day. There is no rush, I've plenty of time to see it all. Do you have a favorite book, Lady Amaya? I'm rather partial to non-fiction studies over fairytales, but I can appreciate a good book of adventurous heroes from time to time."

Amaya curtsied curtly, "A wise choice. These clothes aren't exactly fitting for long walks, but I figured I should offer nonetheless." She began to walk on, trying to not draw any attention to her brothers now exchanging coins. Apparently some small bets had come closed. Ayama's sharp eyes noted that David came out ahead in this exchange.

While she had already picked out the shortest possible path to the library, she kept up the conversation. "I hate to disappoint you, but since finding the journal I told you about earlier, my focus has been centered around unlocking it's mysteries. However, while hunting out reference material, I did come across what appeared to be a historical account of a spell sword by the name of Braxxis. But the more I read, the more fanciful and epic his achievements became. Granted, I haven't actively hunted for it, I have failed to find a single mention of a Braxxis in any history or compiled text. Quite an oddity it was."

The turned around the far corner of the building before making another turn soon after into a set of doors. "If you would like, I will see if I can find it for you, then you might have a crack at it." From there, they ascended a flight of stairs and turned down a hallway. "But before finding the journal, I greatly enjoyed the works of Zane Marshall, we actually have his original transcriptions. My favorite of these would have to be the Mythic History set of novels." She opened a set of double doors and stepped aside for Dimitri to enter the room,  It seemed to be a large sitting room with large bookshelves on all the walls. Not at all unlike what you might find in any other manor. "Welcome to the Zamt'ris Library."

The High Lord either did not see or simply ignored the coins being exchanged between the brothers as he walked next to Amaya as she continued on with the tour. He offered her a light smile as she spoke about the journal and this spellsword called Braxxis. "You don't disappoint me at all, Lady Amaya. Your focus and passion can be considered quite admirable traits. Although now you have me curious as well. I have never heard of such an individual. I would very much like to see this historical text."

He was doing his best to keep track of every turn, every staircase, and every door. The manor was laid out in an easy to navigate format, as she had told him earlier. "The original transcripts?" Dimitri asked with a raised brow as he stepped into the library, turning his attention away from his beautiful hostess and to the walls lined with books. It wasn't an unusual looking library by any means, but was still impressive - to him most libraries were. He closed his eyes briefly and breathed deeply before opening his eyes with a smile as he looked to Amaya. "How lovely. No matter how many libraries I visit, there is always something...magical about stepping into one."

Dimitri chuckled softly as he moved further into the room, eyes wandering the shelves with an obvious pleasure. "I think I have found my favorite room in the manor. Of course the library is always my favorite room anywhere I go." Well, his favorite indoor room, to be sure. His heart would always yearn for the gardens and the libraries.

Walking along on wall, Amaya's hand slid lightly across the spines. Without looking at the titles, she selected a book and pulled it free. It was evident she spent alot of time here. "Here you are, the Account of Braxxis." She held the book out to him. It was a pretty thick leather bound hardbook. Ornately done but looked very old. At one time there had been a gold leaf inlay, but it seemed most of it had flecked away. There was also some slight singeing, but it too was faded from age. "My closest estimate puts that book at about one hundred years old. The Master Librarian thinks I am underestimating. Though he long dismissed the idea of Braxxis as fantasy. I disagree." She took a seat in one of the chairs, intently watching the High Lord with this strange History.

It was difficult for Dimitri to divide his attention between the many books, and Amaya. He tried to keep one eye on the fair woman he was supposed to be assessing for marriageability, but the shelves upon shelves of tomes called to him mercilessly. How could a man such as himself, a scholar at heart, resist such a siren song?

At least until she offered him this mysterious book about Braxxis, the intrigue was enough to break the spell the library had cast upon him. Dimitri took the book carefully, but calculatingly, allowing his fingers to brush against Amaya's for a moment as the leather tome changed hands. For a moment he simply gazed at her intently as she explained what they knew, or didn't know, about Braxxis and his book.

Satisfied, he turned his lilac eyes to the leather spine. Holding it gingerly in one hand he let his fingers lightly trace the faded and flaked gold inlay on the cover before opening it to the first page and brushing his fingertips against the page as he read the first few paragraphs - which only served to increase his curiosity. "It certainly is mysterious, isn't it? I find it remarkable that I have never heard of such a book or man if it is truly is close to the age you suggest."

"That's partly why the Librarian opted to dismiss it as fiction. But I refuse to do so. Fiction has this feel to it, the language is informal and impassioned, the tales inspiring and exaggerated. Not so with this book. In this paradox of text, you fill find a form, studious, and academic recounting of the many deeds of Braxxis Therogood. From his pinnacle role in the Summer War, to his seduction of Fae folk, to his conquest of a Faeyn Court, his treasonous Siege of Order of the Moon's Barracks. All told, Braxxis would have lived at least 150 years. Yet I have found no reference to him anywhere." She folded on leg over the other, sitting in a very courtly posture. It was habitual around guests.

"The end of that book seems to hint at something else at play, some sort of.." she paused for a moment, trying to find a word to replace conspiracy, which had been what she was about to say, but she was talking to the High Lord after all, "..Subterfuge."

She began to recite the text from memory. "Over the past year, I have noticed the increasing lack of information on Braxxis Therogood, he does not exist within the living memory of the rising generation, and I fear that most people of my own era are beginning to excuse the man as myth. Stories I have found of late have painted him as a man that did not bleed and could rend mountains to rubble with his bare hands. As I already know, this is simply not true. As far as myths and legends go, his is not one that is spoken often, like all the world is happy to forget this man among men. But more troubling still is the unease I have felt of late, the more I search for information about Braxxis, the more I feel like I am being watched. Recently, My residence was searched on an anonymous tipping that I was a fae worshiper. That is, of course, high scandal and lies, but resisting would only look bad. I was cleared but I found that what information I had gathered on Braxxis was gone. I am trusting my gut on this one, and leaving the tale of braxxis behind me, to be published after my death. Sincerely, Master N."

She shrugged her shoulders in a polite fashion, "I've more or less stopped trying to solve the puzzle, but you are more than welcome to it. And if you can figure it out, I will show you a secret about Manor Zamt'ris." She said with a wry smile.

Dimitri continued to flip through the pages, skimming over them, only pausing to read passages that truly demanded his attention. Of course while he did this he was still politely listening to his hostess. Of course everything Amaya had to say of the book only raised more questions, and the mystery of it deepened further. He wondered just how much time she had spent studying the story of Braxxis that she had committed such an excerpt to memory.

"I agree with you that it seems to be written as a scholarly record and account of this man Braxxis. However I find myself struggling to accept the idea that a man of such supposed renown could simply be erased and forgotten. Why and by whom? I doubt the Order would bother with such an extreme measure." He flipped through a few more pages before closing it with a sigh and spared Amaya a bemused smile.

"You ask a high price for this secret, my lady. Or are you merely challenging me to succeed where you have failed? Would solving this mystery help to win the fair lady's affections?" Now his expression had become almost teasing as he held out the book to her.

She made no move to take the book and her eyes shined with amusement, "Surely Your Grace Doth not think this secret be so small that this quest the Lady hath bequeath to him be ill-rewarded? And if perhaps not her affection, Your Grace would most assuredly acquire a Lady's Admiration, and she would be assured of his scholarly fortitude." She has switched to a slightly more archaic form of Common, namely only used now during time honored traditions such as an Ascension to Knighthood, or Church Courts.

She leaned forward and pushed the book back towards him, "Consider it a gift, to celebrate your eventual betrothal." With that, she stood and straightened out her gown, "Breakfast is likely to be ready soon, will you accompany me?" She held out her arm to him, her palm downward with her hand bent like she might try to pick up something.

It was difficult not to laugh, truly, Dimitri's soft purple eyes were sparkling with laughter even as his lips twitched in their attempt to remain neutral at her teasing words. Her use of an old, formal dialect was quite unexpected. From what he had seen she was a very serious individual, full of propriety and grace. He liked the little glimpses he got of breaking from rigid expectations.

"The Lady's admiration would be almost as good as her affection, I suppose." Dimitri mused as he accepted the book graciously. Hopefully his betrothal would be a reason for celebration. For him it still felt as if a hangman's noose was about his neck and slowly tightening. He was doing this to quiet his naysayers and to make the people of his province happy, it was his duty to them.

Putting aside grim thoughts, Dimitri forced on his much practiced easy smile as he gave a flourish of a bow before stepping up beside Lady Amaya and offering her his arm as a proper gentleman should. "It would be my great pleasure to accompany you to breakfast, my fair lady."

That at least was not a lie, for out of all the women he had met so far along this trip, he found Amaya's company the most enjoyable.

And so they left the library behind, heading for the dining hall. Breakfast was quite hardy, bacon, sausage, eggs scrambled until they were light and fluffy, as well as biscuits and a nice white gravy. It was a bit queer to have a meal that one would normally expect to have at a tavern for a pretty penny, but the food tasted amazing. The way the cook had seen it, the High Lord had enough light and elegant meals over this tour of eligible maidens, he needed something flavorful. And Flavorful it was, table conversation almost ceased as people ate. Only the greatest of compliments to the chef could match the symphony of a silent table.

Unlike everyone else, Amaya had added a spicy paste to a number of the things brought out. Spicy bacon and sausage was so much better, and the paste actually gave the eggs some flavor in her opinion. After breakfast, Altira spoke up, "Your Grace? Juniper and I were going to go to the stables, and we were wondering if you would like to come with us?"

Perhaps such a breakfast might be considered plain in some noble houses, but Dimitri voiced no complaint as he tucked into his plate, the High Lord had lightly dribbled a touch of the white gravy over everything on his plate. It might not have been considered a fancy meal, but it was delicious and filling. That there were no attempts at conversation was both pleasing and surprising. Although considering the quality of the food perhaps not so surprising. He had noticed that Amaya had some unusual smelling paste added to her breakfast.

Dimitri leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh when his plate was cleared and he had washed his breakfast down with a fresh cup of coffee. Lilac eyes watched as breakfast ended all around the table, mentally preparing himself for the return of the demands on his attention. It was not a long wait. A familiar easy smile settled onto his lips as he made eye contact with Altira and rose from the table. Well, he had wanted to see the stables anyway. At least the two sweet youngest sisters were not Bellamy! "I could hardly refuse such a polite a request from two of my lovely hostesses."

Like a proper gentleman, he moved to Altira's side and offered the young lady his arm, flashing her a charming, albeit (convincing) fake, smile. She had made the request, after all, and of the four available young women, Altira was the one of the two going to the stables that he still had to decide whether or not to consider. Even so, he turned that same smile onto Juniper and gestured with his other arm. "How lucky I am to have two arms, the better to accept the privilege of escorting two such beautiful women." Despite that he was not considering Juniper any longer, he would never be rude or dismissing towards the shy girl.

Altira rose from her chair and took his hand, like there was not nor had there ever been any doubt that she belonged at his side. The youngest Zamt'ris held herself well, with a confidence that rivaled most men, but was somehow not in the least bit boastful. Martin nodded to himself as David slid two coins into his hand from under the table.

Juniper rose to join them, and while graceful, it was obvious that she was focused on not tripping herself up, and had none of the easy and self assured grace that Altira had. Micheal flipped a heavy coin across the table into David's waiting hand with a subtlety only afforded by masters of combat and only noticed by mothers, sisters, and skilled archers.

"Do you know the way to the stables, Your Grace?" The question was polite and her tone was appropriate, but her eyes belied the true meaning. She knew he knew the way, she knew Amaya had given him a tour, but she would lead him without judgement if he had already lost his way.

"Your lovely sister did tell me where to find them, Lady Altira, although sadly we did not have time to visit them before breakfast." Dimitri didn't appear to notice all the coins changing hands, but of course he had two young women to occupy his attention. It was rather impressive to see the youngest daughter so very confident and assured of herself. The High Lord made a mental note to himself that even if he didn't choose her, Altira was going to be a very formidable woman some day not terribly far into the future.

Juniper, on the other hand, while graceful, did not exude the confidence of any of her sisters. Such a sweet girl, he could never marry her. The life of the High Lady would be far too much for a girl like her. Not marrying her would actually be doing her a favor, even if she didn't realize it. It was a shame he couldn't think of a younger relative of his to suggest to Lord Zamt'ris.

At any rate, with both young ladies secured he smiled and began retracing his steps that would eventually lead them to the stables. Along the way it would be good to gather more information. "So you both enjoy riding? Any showing or jumping?"

It wasn't unheard of for young ladies to participate in such competitions. He had never gotten into such things, but it was good to show interest in all of the sisters. Although Dimitri was already more keenly interested in Amaya than any of the other three young women he had met here - or anywhere else, for that matter.

While true, Juniper was typically a very shy thing. Crowds unsettled her, men made her voice falter, and the mere idea of possibly being hurt could stall her into inaction. There was one exception that consistently pulled her out of her shell. Altira. The two girls had been born just shy of a year apart. They practically grew up together. For that reason, Juniper always felt far more comfortable around her much bolder sister.

The older of the two gave a soft giggle before answering. "I couldn't ride to save my life, I just like to interact with the horses. However, Altira could ride circles around your best knight." While Altira's face gave no reaction to the praise, her eyes said it all. What are you doing? Juniper's own grin grew and her eyes sparkled. No idea! Seemed like the right thing to say!. Having spent so much time together growing up, Altira and Juniper could practically have full length conversations with each other with nothing but subtle body language. And they did, quite often. Last night the silent conversation had been about the High Lord not so much as looking over to Bellamy save for when she was the topic of conversation.

"My sister has a tendency to think too highly of others, and too little of herself. But she is correct, I do ride." Altira's comment was a mix of saving face and deflecting praise. The Courts were built upon the appearance of humility and subdued smug. Also, to suggest that a woman could do something better than a trained and respected member of the gentry was galling. No matter how true it was. Besides, she didn't need pride to know how good she was on horseback. She had been trained by her brother Michael. A prominent member of the Order of the Moon. She could likely ride a wolf if ever there were one big enough to ride!

When they crossed into the gardens, Altira motioned for him to go straight across as opposed to turning around the side of the building. "Take the Grove Path. It goes straight to the stables, is a walk in the shade, and looks better. And, the Hydrangeas are in late bloom this year, they look stunning along the path, dappled in shade and light as they are."

Dimitri raised a brow coolly at Juniper's rather large boast to Altira's abilities on a horse. That was quite the claim. He wondered if it was true. Rather intriguing.

The guards wearing Orlov colors shuffled slightly, they had been following the High Lord discreetly almost since he had stepped out of his carriage the following day. There were always two of them, taking turns so that he was always guarded. Apparently they were skeptical of Juniper's declaration of her sister's prowess.

The High Lord turned his head to smile charmingly down at Altira as she attempted to deflect the praise with grace before directing him smoothly on the best route to the stables. Yes, she would be a formidable young woman indeed. He could only imagine as to the kind of man she might end up with.

"Thank you, Lady Altira. I always love a scenic route, and have a special fondness for flora. This path will be much nicer. I'm curious about your sister's suggestion of your riding capabilities. It would be very interesting to put that boast to the test." He could probably convince one of his men to even ride in direct competition. Wouldn't that be exciting to watch? At least, as long as the young lady actually did her best. He would hate to see her throw such a competition out of a sense of propriety.

If he could even get her to participate in such a contest.

Altira coolly eyed the two guardsmen following them. She could thrash them, easily. "If it pleases you, Your Grace, There is a large paddock not far from the stable. If you truly desire it, the perimeter of the paddock would be a most opportune place to put my sister's overly generous compliment to the test." Like hell would she pass up on opportunity prove that women could be just as talented- if not more so -than a man. There were far too few Lady Knights in the Provence for her to let this opportunity pass her by.

The scenic route was beautiful, but it seemed- to Altira - to be over far more quickly than usual, now that the prospect of a competition had come about. With the stables looming into view, she almost shivered with anticipation. It had been a good month since she had gotten to run Rapscallion as hard as she knew he could.

"It would please me immensely to see such a contest." Dimitri hummed with a twinkle in his lilac eyes as he cast a glance over his shoulder to see the expressions of his two guards. They seemed to look at each other for a moment, communicated without words before one nodded to him subtly. It seemed he had his volunteer rider.

A good race was fine itself, but a one-on-one competition between one of his guards and one of the ladies he was supposed to be courting? Far more exciting a proposition. No doubt it would be something to witness and talk about later - he wondered what the other Zamt'ris family members would think of his encouraging such behavior.

The stables were simply stunning. Carved stone foundation and dark wood for the walls, large enough to cater to an impressive host of horses. The High Lord's own horses and those of his men were also comfortably taken care of within the stable. Altira excused herself to change into her riding leathers. With her sister not in the immediate area, Juniper seemed to clam up just a bit. "One of the staples of the Zamt'ris fief is how many soldiers we can put to field. One hundred score men serve under our banner, loyal to us and you, M'lord. And our horses are some of the best in Moonspear."

It wasn't long before Altira returned riding a coloured cob, long mane well maintained. "Your Grace! Allow me the pleasure of introducing you to Rapscallion. My own horse." Her hair tied back, Altira wore form fitting leathers excellent for riding, they accented her form with a natural grace.

Dimitri was duly impressed as they entered the stables. They were even finer than the ones at the capitol. Out of all the houses he had visited on this farce of a tour, the Zamt'ris certainly held the most opulence. Each house had been chosen for a reason, but wealth hadn't been the reason to include this stop, at least not by itself. Marrying one of the four girls presented to him here would give useful influence with those backwater fae worshipers that still lingered throughout rural Moonspear.

"Yes, this is most impressive, Lady Juniper. I have not seen finer accommodations for our horses in my travels thus far." Well it was certainly true, but he gave an easy smile for the obviously still quite nervous young lady at his side. She did seem a sweet thing, but it was good that he'd already ruled her out.

His guard had moved to ready his horse as soon as Altira had disappeared, but now returned leading a tall, sleek black gelding just as the lady also appeared riding the cob stallion. Dimitri smiled at his potential bride, lilac eyes moving over the animal beneath her. "What a fine animal, Lady Altira, and well-named. I am anticipating you giving my man quite a challenge."

The guard snorted at the horse the little girl had brought out. It was not as tall or lean as his gelding. He quickly mounted up. "I am not going to go easy on you, my lady. Hope that pony can do more than canter."

This drew a short laugh from both guards until Dimitri fixed them with a stern, disapproving frown. "That's enough of that. Shall we head outside?"

If looks could kill, Rapscallion would be clapped in irons. Anyone watching the horse would see very intelligent eyes glaring at the guardsman who had the audacity to call him a pony. This was personal. He was going to choke on that sentence.

"I'm glad, I'd take it as a great offense if you were to do anything but your best, sir knight." She seemed undaunted by the jeer as her hand went to Rapscallion's neck, he had begun stamping the ground, he was ready to race. "There's a kilometer track out the back of the stable, we use it to find desirable traits in our herds for breeding, shall we?" she started to lead the way back through the stables, the eyes of many horses following them, many of whom were cobs as well, barrel chested with intelligent eyes.

"Yes, let's see this track of yours." Dimitri said softly, casting a warning glance back at his guards. He didn't expect the man to let her win, but he was not pleased with the way the men had spoken to a potential future wife.

Not that he really thought Altira would be right for him.

They followed her out, with the High Lord walking closer to the young lady and her cob stallion, while his men followed leading the leggy gelding. Juniper was still on his arm, and he tried to cast her a pleasant smile. He definitely wasn't marrying her, but she could be his future sister-in-law. Best to be as friendly to the whole family as possible.

To say that Altira and Rapscallion had beaten the knight and his steed, was perhaps a bit of an understatement. Her horse had thrashed his. Taking the lead early in the first turn and gaining so much distance on the knight in the straightaway. It was a good seven second lead by time Altira crossed the finish line- and while she'd go on to swear that she hadn't actually pushed her horse that hard, it was clear that at least one of the duo wanted to make the knight choke on his sentence.

But Altira isn't without without her graces, she rode over to the knight and dipped her head graciously, "How noble of you sir knight, to hold back in order to make your lord's potential betrothed look better. If it were just the two of us without an audiance- I'm certain it would have been anyone's race." and while both her and the knight new it not to be true, she was graciously giving him a way to save face. She just hoped he took it.

Dimitri's lips twitched slightly in an amused smirk at Altira as she tried to claim the guard had let her win the race. He knew his men well enough to know the man on the black horse would have swallowed his tongue before letting a woman beat him at anything. Indeed, the man looked ready to chew nails as he pursed his lips at the young lady. For a moment he actually worried there might be an embarrassing scene caused by the guard's indignation, but he finally bowed his head politely to Altira.

"I would not embarrass the lady in front of a potential suitor, especially not the High Lord. If you'll excuse me, I will take my horse back to the stables." The guard bowed to Dimitri before turning his mount and trotting away.

The High Lord turned to Altira with a smile. "What excellent form you have, and your stallion is most impressive when you let him loose to run."