The Koenas' Jottings: Male Presentation

[livrose 1594]

The Koenas’ Jottings

On This Lifstala’s Male Presentations 

The date had been pencilled in as 10th of Joma and Umund

 

Spoiler

(these notes were made in Emma’s diary, so their contents are not known IRPly!)

 

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It has been a successful season thus far, though I find my memory waning. With so many young debutantes and bachelors flocking through these doors it has proven hard to keep track of them. I told myself I would compile a list, just for my own eyes, to remind myself of each participant so I might form a rounded view of them. Anastasya assures me it is a good idea. Here goes:

 

I. His Serene Highness, Karl Sigmar.

I’ve never quite noticed just how alike Karl and Sigismund look - well, not until he stepped beneath the box and peered upwards, blowing the arena’s sand from his vision. The boy looked positively gallant, and had a rather extraordinary opening including fireworks and all sorts of dramatics. Whatever nerves he felt did not rise to the surface of his calmed composure. He elected to try his hand at the archery challenge, and… well… was not wholly terrible. A solid effort from my dear boy, and he did not embarrass himself completely. Good thing he’s Grand Prince to bolster his status! I cannot help but wonder whether his misfortune this Season is due to a lack of girls interested in him, or he who is not interested in pursuing them. My conscience tells me it is the latter.

 

II. His Royal Highness, Sergei Aleksandr.

Karl’s other half- mildly delayed in a daydream at the beginning of his exhibition, but he seemed to pull it together. I didn’t spot Lady Aloisa in the crowds, though I’m sure she was watching with an especially keen eye. His entrance was inferior to his brothers, lacking fireworks and bugling, but nevertheless dobry. He chose the joust as his trial of strength: had a successful start, landing a large hit, though in the third and final round was lanced from his horse. A good effort, one that did him no shame, and surely impressed the Lady Aloisa. I suppose that is all he cares for.  

 

III. His Royal Highness, Josie Frederik.

I feel I have to record the growth of little Josie! From a mere toddler, he has grown into quite the handsome man. Perhaps a touch prideful. He focused on the eligible ladies who littered the high stands, throwing waves this way and that. Ah! And the polished plate of Barbanov-Bihar armour shone with the sun overhead. Though- perhaps I ruined whatever bachelor look he was going for with his childhood nickname… as in a bid to make the match more challenging for himself, he removed his helm. (I note that it smacked poor Lady Sorina in the gut!) The dear boy then proceeded to lose. Poor thing. I sent him some flowers afterwards. 

 

IV. His Royal Highness, Lucien Auréle.

The entrance of my eldest was rivalled only by the Savoyard Prince- no doubt they planned it together, as they do most things. Trumpets sounded as he strode into the arena along with fireworks. It is most certain that his display sent many a lady swooning in the crowd. For his trial, he chose a duel. He bested the Lord Marshal himself, ranking him the first successful presentation! A foreign prince besting my three sons is a tad disheartening, but, alas, I must give credit to the Prince where it is due. A stellar opening, dazzling match, and triumphant victory to top it off. The Prince will certainly have maidens flocking to his side. 

 

V. His Lordship, Matyas Alban.

Lord Matyas was simplistically direct in his opening; a refreshing change! He strode out and addressed us, the judges. I must note that his confidence was admirable- and thus was further proven in his decision to circumvent our challenges altogether, instead presenting his own written work. A… rulebreaker, some kind of daredevil, to assert his own idea! I'm sure that is the sort of thing ladies love these days. Though, my complaints died once his work was presented: a short story surrounding women’s rights. It strayed from the presentation guidelines, yet was a daring move. Perhaps it paid off - for it certainly made the boy stand out. Both 'bad boy Matyas', and a man who believes in equality? Woah! 

 

VI. His Lordship, Konstanz Barclay

Konstanz Barclay - the poor unfortunate soul whose betrothed cast him aside a week ago! She, who married only the last saint’s day in a flurry of royal fuss… leaving him quite alone. The poor boy, how I do feel for him. His mother tells me all sorts. I believe his intentions in this presentation therefore were to impress. He marched out, planting a spear into the sand. Yet, instead of conventionally greeting the judges, Lord Konstanz began to dance provocatively towards the stands. It can only be assumed that this was some sort of ancient… mating… signal, as I can see no other reason for the showcase. A challenge of wit was issued to him, despite my understanding that he is rather soft in the head. He ran out of time before naming the last Haeseni Consort: myself! A good effort, I suppose. Perhaps his saddening story with Princess Renata will pull at a few heartstrings of Haeseni ladies. 

 

VII. His Lordship, Eugen Barclay

Unlike his brother, Eugen was prompt, arriving on a glorious stallion. He seemed humble, kind, and landed somewhere in between Matyas’ simple entrance, to Luciens’ ostentatious one. The trial he chose was no surprise; a joust. For his riding was quite skilled, he and the Duke Ruthern were equally matched. On their second bout, the Duke dismounted him, sending the teen smacking into the dirt below. A harsh fall, but quickly recovered - and for that, I must applaud the Barclay lord. 

 

VIII. His Lordship, Mikhail Ruthern

Perhaps the most controversial bachelor of the Season… Mikhail Ruthern, who my judges had declared the Nikirala Stag, until he defaced his name by hurling insults towards good members of the Court. Alas, he entered the arena with his arms up, as if already victorious. He knelt, and requested two trials. Two! Bold- stupid, perhaps. His father battled him in a joust, and was dismounted by his own son… I suspect the Duke did not fasten himself itno his stirrups properly. No matter! Lady Amadea issued the boy mathematical questions, converting this that and the other in manners I can hardly comprehend. His success in both these challenges was indeed questioned once the uproar began regarding his dubbing the ‘Nikirala Stag’.

 

IX. His Lordship, Matyas (Joren) Baruch

He entered the arena, adorned in high standard silks and material - being fond of fashion myself, I admit he caught my eye. Amidst his entrance, and opening introduction, a particular farfolk girl was by no means shy as to her excitement. Has Matyas (or Joren, as his nickname goes) found his match? A farfolk girl? As I scribble these notes, I cannot help but recall his amusing challenge. He too, elected to stray from our guidelines, calling in a bold declaration for a “name duel”. A battle against Matyas Alban for the right of their name! Dreadfully exciting. Yet, I fear the impact was lost on this Baruch as he lost… forfeiting his name for a whole year in favour of Joren. 

 

X. His Lordship, Borris Kortrevich

Borris, my dear nephew and poet-extraordinaire. He was never the loudest, most confident of men, but he approached us with a smile and a slip of paper. We accepted poetry as his challenge, which he recited unfalteringly. The lyrical prose garnered the attention of more than one lady, including Adele Ludovar. Perhaps her attentions have strayed from Matyas Alban! The first, I thought, was rather depressing for such an event. The second piece, ‘Above the Rest’ was charming. “It is not the rose’s hand I seek…” the boy recited. My! Perhaps Lady Dorothea will be upset. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was a masked insult towards the Rutherns, or perhaps the boy should be commended for his honesty in his pursuit of something more valuable. 

 

XI. His Lordship, Jakob Morovar

Ah! My interests were piqued at this presentation. The Morovar matched out, donning a new fur cloak over his shoulders. His pleasant arrival and look was affected somewhat by his rather quiet responses - I half thought him mute at first! Once the awkwardness had passed, the Duke and Morovar saddled in for a joust. It did not last terribly long, as the boy was soon dismounted. Not quite the credit to his Dame mother afterall, but I suppose there is still time yet! Perhaps Klara should not shackle herself to a singular option, this early into the Season… 

 

XII. Firr, Grigori Vyronov

Perhaps this Vyronov would have been more successful had he not shown, like the de Sarkozy or Demetriyus Kortrevich. At least, then, the honour of his family would still be intact. Somewhat. I do feel for my Secretary. The beginning was oh-so-pleasant, manners impeccable, dedicating his joust to the daughter of the Grand Lady in a swooping chivalrous gesture. Yet on the first round of the joust he was dismounted, and landed harshly. Unlike Eugen Barclay, the Vyronov stood, protesting this outcome. To smooth any discontent, the pair fought again, as the Vyronov declared his family’s honour rested upon his victory. His next dismounting was more painful - perhaps not physically, but I felt a  collective wince echo within the arena. Thereafter, I have heard he has been dubbed “The Undesirable of the Season.”

 

XIII. Firr, Lukas Vyronov

Firr Lukas arrived with the fierce determination to make up for his brother’s slips. He arrived with a red rose in his teeth, confidence radiating, and threw the flower up into the stands to the Duchess Georgina - much to the frustration of her husband, the Duke, who stood beside her. Confidence! It can make up for any blunder. He faced the Duke in a trial, where he triumphed fair and square. I admire his nerve. Where his brother failed, he did not, and thus elevated his family’s name a touch more. It is he, who is the favourable face of the Vyronov family. Good on him. 

 

 

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- E.K.

[tcs_tonsils_ 2833]

Borris Iver Kortrevich goes on with his day having never seen these notes.