Phersades

A Missive of Ileana Kortrevich 'With Duty, Comes Honor’ “9th of Jula Ag Piov, 483 E.S” This Saints day, I was made aware of a missive regarding me and my lineage. In this missive, The Right Honorable, Ileana Stefaniya of House Kortrevich, claims that she has never met me nor knows anything of my lineage and therefore ‘doesn’t exist’ since it is untraceable through her records. She also then condemns me for loving the man I have chosen as my husband and then disowns me. It truly is a shame that blood of my blood would stoop as low as to disown me, the third Kortrevich she has disowned in the last ten years or so, especially so close to my wedding. Honestly, I do think it to be a pretty poor gift, especially for a cousin that Ileana Kortrevich is acquainted with. I do admit that there is no shock that the records of my line are not so documented as my father, after the death of his own, broke off from his family within The Kingdom of Haense to focus on a life elsewhere. Ileana Kortrevich says she was only made aware of me this Saints day, yet I do regret to inform everyone that I have sat with Ileana and explained in great detail my lineage and how it ties to her own. Not long after our departure from Almaris, Ileana had found me and initiated a conversation. In this conversation I explained that my father is Anton Otto Kortrevich, first born son and second born child of Nikolai Mikhail Kortrevich, me and Ileana’s grandfather. As a teenager, due to the proximity of Acre to the land which Jerovitz resided on, my father had left home to pursue knighthood in Acre. After spending many many years there, he had jumped back and forth between Jerovitz, Acre, and then eventually Adria where he had meet and married my mother, A Samardzic, who sits as a half sister to the leading lord of the current line of Carrion-Tuvyic. As stated, Ileana learned all about my lineage and should she try to claim to have not been aware of me prior to my wedding invitation, I also present that this conversation between my cousin and I was also witnessed by a third party, Eredain Glennmaer. I will not stoop down to your level and speak of the man you have decided to take as your husband, August Vilac, as I hope that despite his name and lineage, he treats you well and is a fitting consort for a House that I take great pride in, even now. Though I will say that personally, I do not care much for your word in the end. I write this response mostly to reaffirm my lineage and to let you know that your disownment does nothing. You deem me an enemy, so I will still use the name I was born with as it pairs with the blood that runs through my veins. You may not like me being a Kortrevich, but all your ‘disownment’ truly does is disinherit me from a House I do not ever wish to lead. Therefore, I will continue to walk around with the name and claim myself one as I have been doing now for years and years until I take the name Van Aert. I hope you sleep well, my dear cousin, with the knowledge that even once I take my to-be husbands name and devote myself to the House of Van Aert, that the blood that runs through me as well as you tying back to our Grandfather will also run through my children and their own, and so on. The blood of the bull will flow through my descendants and each and everyone of them will be raised a proud citizen of The Duchy of Adria. Signed, Klara Miray Kortrevich

The Union of Johanes Van Aert and Klara Miray Kortrevich [!] Johanes Van Aert and Klara Miray Kortrevich within the palace gardens. There is no doubt that the move from Almaris to our new land was a treacherous one. Plenty was lost to the Mori'Quessir including the homes we’ve built and for many of us, our loved ones. Though through the hardships we’ve faced, we have prevailed and shown our strength within our communities and still we stand. After settling into their new home and nurturing a cherished courtship for countless years, it is great delight to proclaim the imminent union between His Grace, Johanes Van Aert, and his betrothed, Klara Miray Kortrevich. To celebrate this sacrament of marriage, the two have planned a festival for those invited to indulge in. ✥ The Ceremony His Grace and his betrothed will unite in holy matrimony under the eyes of God within the halls of the Adrian Cathedral of Saint Humbert. Following the completion of their vows, the union will be legitimized by the scribing of their names onto the marriage register. Guests are encouraged to bring gifts for the bride and groom to ensure their marriage prospers well. These may be exchanged before the wedding party moves to the hunt. (Sunday, 6/25, 3pm est) ✥ The Hunt After the Ceremony, The Duke and Duchess will lead the party to the tourney grounds just outside of the Duchy. From there, groups will be taken into the surrounding wilderness to hunt for fresh meat and furs that will then be presented before the Ducal pair to be prepared for the days to follow. ✥ The Feast With the game hunted during their outing, as a showing of their appreciation to their guests and citizens, the Duke and Duchess will present a full feast before their guests to enjoy there on the festival grounds. INVITATIONS ARE EXTENDED TO THE FOLLOWING.. ✥ His Grace, The Duke of Blackvale, Valentin van Aert @Vermy ✥ The Right Honourable, The Count of Aldersberg, Markus Sarkozic @Nooblius ✥ The Right Honourable, The Count of Metina, Lucien de Rouen @subatomic ✥ The Right Honourable, The Count of Susa, Justinian Basrid @JoanOfArc ✥ His Lordship, The Baron of Harlingen, Manus de Ruyter @Capace ✥ His Lordship, The Baron of Euler, Stefan Euler @Gaja ✥ His Lordship, The Baron of Reyne, Ser John Reyne @Milenkhov ✥ And all other citizens of The Duchy of Adria... ✥ Her Grace, Renilde I of the Petra and her noble pedigree @tilly ✥ Princess Veralya Wynasul of the Principality of Talar’nor and her noble pedigree @Amuletic ✥ His Royal Majesty, Uriel I, King of the Adunians and his royal pedigree @MalchediaelVult ✥ By the Blood of the Herald, Odin Freysson Ruric, High Chieftain of the Rurikkid, Jarl of Vjardengrad, Chieftain of the Freyssons and his noble pedigree @ichigomaster98

When the news finally made its way to Klara, she mourned quietly in her office that she had been so anchored to. "Yam sorry Aedypapej, I wish we could have spent time together." - Somewhere else though, The soul of a Kortrevich, once close to the young poet, flickered. Perhaps Nikolai was not always the best, but even in death, the memory of the eight-year-old Borris showing up to that empty keep was still one he cherished.

Klara Miray Kortrevich read through the missive, humming softly to herself while she thought. "I can't believe he finally found a woman willing to give him children...." Still, she was happy for that cousin of hers.

Klara Miray Kortrevich thumbed through the papers that had sat at her desk for days and days, though there was no end to her task list. She laid each and every one out so that she may have her pick to tackle first. In the end, she mindlessly chose a random piece, picking it from where she sat and leaning back to take the words in before a knock came at the door to her shop. One more interruption. The courier wasted no time upon being let in, handing off the news of the King's departure with haste before leaving just the same upon being waved off by the to-be Duchess. Klara unfolded that parchment and took a seat in that large wooden chair that she often worked in, settling comfortably as she read through it. Despite the departure of an enemy, Klara didn't smile. There was some sort of bitter taste that welled from her throat, making her sick the longer she read. Who would she tell? Surely, she could not tell Alikos. She knew all well what he would say should she speak her mind, he would remind her of all the awful things that came from Haense. He would remind that Kortrevich what they had done to his Mariya, the girl he raised. He, like others, would remind her of the cold hearts they carried, their incompetence, ignorance, and all else... But that was not what Klara wished to hear. The Vasoyevi was thankful for the life she had presently, surrounded by people who truly loved and cared for her; Nesrin, Nadia, Alikos, Eredain, Johanes, but that still did not make up for the pain that ached her heart in the moment. Slowly, the paper was folded up and set on top of the desk like everything else that plagued her mind and took up her time. At any moment, that familiar Inquisitor would walk through the doors to celebrate the loss of King Georg I, but for now Klara sat in the silence of that room, taking the moment to mourn in private. So there in that office space of her soon to be boutique, she cried over the stolen painting of the late Queen Esfir Amelya. One day in the future, when Georg would eventually end up in the Seven Skies, there he'd be met with an old friend. Renate Mariya Barclay would walk alongside that aged Barbanov, Osha perched on her arm just as she always had in their life. "For what it's worth, I always knew you'd be a wonderful king. Sorry we could not be there like we had planned."

Tavern Help Wanted Help wanted at The Crow’s Catch. Pinned to missive boards around Aevos was news that various jobs are in demand at The Crow’s Catch Tavern within The Duchy of Adria. With the official opening of that pub, there are plenty of positions open for the public to pursue with any and all welcome. The tavern bolsters a generous circle of leaders, so any workers employed may expect generous yearly salaries, hospitality and gratification for their quality efforts. BARMAIDS Barmaids are expected to be available daily to attend to the daily patrons of the tavern. They should be efficient in their work behind the counter and in the kitchen alike. Their duties will be serving both alcohol, preparing meals ordered, being around for private and large public events, as well as being available to clean and tend to the counter until customers arrive or the duration of their visit. There are currently two positions open. Barmaids receive the following payment: I. A yearly salary of 10 mina. SUPPLIERS Suppliers are expected to supply the tavern with supplies needed to keep the business stocked. This will include fresh meat and vegetables, clean bottles, as well as doing business with other suppliers for trade. They will be expected to always be on the lookout for new import opportunities. There is currently one position open. Suppliers receive the following payment: I. Payment will depend on the quality of game, amount of bottles, or buyers obtained. CHEFS Chefs are expected to help the owners come up with new recipes both for alcohol as well as meals sold within the tavern. Chefs will help prepare meals alongside barmaids and offer help in serving patrons should the days be busy. There is currently one position open. Chefs receive the following payment: I. A yearly salary of 10 mina, extra will be offered depending on serving work for the week as well as recipes made and offered. Terms of payment are always negotiable as well. Should you wish to inquire about the positions offered, please send a letter or seek out Klara Miray Kortrevich (Phersades) or Nesrin Carrion (Zetterstrand)

The Crow’s Catch Est. 1928 Owned and operated by House Carrion-Tuvyic, The Crow’s Catch is a quaint pub located within the Duchy of Adria at Belvitz 1. Should any local or traveler enter the tavern, they will be met with the scent of hearth fires and hand-pies made for the patrons who find themselves in the midst of merriment. The tavern is home to many original brews such as spiced bourbon or common favorites like Carrion Black. On top of the large variety of drinks to choose from, the chefs and barmaids of The Crow’s Catch have compiled an ever-changing menu of savory meals and treats to pair with your ales and wine. Every now and then, items on the menu will be switched out and rotated to offer something new to its regular visitors. The Menu The menu offers a wide mix of local brews and imports offered by suppliers from around Aevos. If you would be interested in selling your stock to The Crow’s Catch, send a bird to Lady Nesrin Carrion, or Klara Miray Kortrevich. Carrion Black This signature dark ale is contained within a small bottle. For those fortunate enough to get a taste of the most beloved brew of the northern realms, they’d be met with a pleasant, rich drink. Any customer of the mildly strong alcoholic beverage would be met with a warming sensation. A taste of burnt hops lingers long after having a sip, giving the drink its trademark flavor. The Bulls Bourbon A crafted drink that combines bourbon and cherry juice, with added spices such as nutmeg and cinnamon lingering within the taste as well. This punch is very mild with a 9% ABV, however, one can add more alcohol to their drink if they so please. This drink is typically served warm, heated in a pot and served in a mug. Miray’s Honey Mead A clear, amber drink made of locally fermented honey. It had an undeniable spice to it brought about by use of cinnamon, and another darker note of zest from the orange peel added during the fermentation process. It was easy to drink yourself into a stupor given how light it tastes. This mead was served warm to combat the chill in the air, a small reprieve. Grandaxe Whiskey - Imported A drink to keep even the hardiest dwarf warm in the winter. This golden-brown liquid was aged and fermented in The Residence of the Grand Retiree. The smell of oak and rye would follow this bottle around even when sealed. Braised Boar Ribs These large cut ribs are a sweet and juicy entree perfect for any table. The natural savory flavor of the boar pairs perfectly with the array of sweet and salty spices in which the meat is seasoned with. The meat was pre-prepped and marinated with a mix of honey, oregano, sage, nutmeg, and cumin before being set over oak wood to slowly roast alongside finely sliced apples. Sidonia’s Square Spuds Perfect for any side dish would be these garlic potatoes, soft on the inside, with a crispy, buttery outer layer.. These red potatoes were cut into cubes, hand tossed in oil and fresh cloves of garlic, then seasoned sparsely with salt & parsley before being lightly covered in butter. Then, ultimately baked. And many more…

Klara Miray read through the write up of the Duma, beaming with pride the whole way through.

Mrbeast of modpacks, thank you bonito!!!!!!!!!!

The Folly of a Princess “Listen…” Mariya loved how soft her mother spoke during their morning walks, it was almost as if she was attempting not to disturb the mists in the air. She did not have the luxury of many memories with the woman, but she remembered the way it felt to hold her hand as they walked through Reinmar. Some days they visited the Duchess who shared Esfir’s raven hair and green eyes, Other days were used for the two to just spend time with each other. The small Princess waddled beside her Serene Highness, arm stretched upwards so that her hand could remain in her mothers own. “Do you hear that, Ma princesse?” It was the song of crows, their shadows soaring over the two royals. They called out into the air, their voices mixing with that of a sorrowful mourning dove hidden in the treeline. Those black birds began to circle, watching something that laid where those rows of roses ended. Mariya felt the Grand Princess lift her up, carrying her in her arms as they moved to investigate. What was it those crows sought after? What were they watching? The closer the two got, the more fearful the small Barbanov grew. Surely it would be a monster, something vile that would rip her from her mother. The crow's call was nothing but a warning. Alas though, upon their arrival, all Mariya and her mother saw was a dying hare. It was covered in a crimson that spilled from its sides, the only telltale sign of its life was the slow breathing, and the occasional kick of a hind leg. Mariya gripped the collar of her mother's coat, hiding her face in it to shield herself from that sight. Esfir cooed, rubbing a hand over the four-year-olds back as they watched those birds jump around that animal in its agony. “Seems the poor thing was attacked, probably from Krusev.” “Will et be okay?” The young princess asked, mustering up just enough courage to look at the scene from over her own shoulder. “Probably not. It will pass soon, and it will be given to the grass and the birds.” The future queen gestured to that cloud of crows that remained in the sky. “You know, they say that bad things are to come when the crows circle. A bad omen. Oh the hare will not be fine, but this happens to everything at some point, nothing to fear, Ma princesse” Mariya did not understand that, could they not just help that writhing rabbit? Patch it up with herbs from the clinic. They could nestle the creature in Esfir’s coat and carry it all the way back to the city. All would be alright, wouldn’t it? “So bad things will happen tae us?” The little princess asked in fear as she leaned back in the woman’s grasp, eyes searching over the Grand Princess’ face. Esfir seemed taken back by that question, unsure of what to think of it before the laughter erupted from the Kortrevich. “Well… I do not personally believe that, they are just tales, superstitions. No, My lovely girl, you will live a long and happy life. Your father and I will ensure that too, don’t you worry.” Despite the dying creature that laid just beyond the fence at their side, Mariya felt safe and hopeful. The head of that tiny girl would rest against her mothers shoulder, snuggled in the expensive furs of that coat as she was carried all the way back to the Morrivi. Mariya didn’t cry when she found out about the Queen's passing, but the look of her father when he was faced with telling her was a sight that would never leave her mind. The way he paled, the shatter of the glass against the southern palace floor. Mariya couldn’t cry though, she had to be strong for her father, or her brothers if she ever got to see them. The words blurred, the things that were said, but Mariya sat there and held the king tightly in her arms like she was his caretaker. The warmth that radiated from Georg gave her a sense that everything was going to be alright, but she knew that she had to be strong so that she could see her father smile again one day… Maybe she would not get the same comfort once she left the Balian palace, not back in Haense. It was all pity. The people that walked up to her, they watched her like a wounded dog, apologized for a loss that nobody truly mourned in that kingdom. She could not cry in front of them. How could she be so weak? She did cry in front of Johanes though. She knew it was not right of her to go to Adria, but there was something about that town that brought her peace, even in her most dreadful times. He was her friend even though he was an odd character. Mariya took comfort in his attempts to cheer her up and the way he smiled at her through that roguish beard. He let her sit there in the courtyard of the keep and cry her eyes out. It was a cry that she needed, one that was built up from years and years of loneliness and pain, one that needed an out with the loss of Queen Esfir. The Duke offered her handkerchiefs and space, he did not try to hold her hand, and there was no selfishness in his actions at that moment. He made her feel safe, so she sat and sobbed her heart out until there was nothing left. Mariya grew to love the people in Adria, the way they treated her and respected her despite the fact that she was the Princess of an enemy nation. She couldn't imagine raising a sword to fight any of them, especially those who grew up alongside her. Now the Princess wasn’t stupid. Conflicts that reach so far can not be repaired with a band-aid, but there was so much love and compassion in the heart of that young Barbanov. Maybe she could show them, show her father that those in Adria were no threat, not one that mattered before the Mori. There was hope in her heart that if she tried hard enough that she could have aided in that attempt for peace. She would not have felt right in her life if she at least didn’t try, and try she did. “He is not coming, they’re going to try and force me into Karosgrad… They’re going to kill me.” Mariya paced around the courtyards of Sheffield in a panic. Georg had already sent the first letter stating that he would not show up to the keep and that he refused to meet with her there. She had already made the dinner that was to be served, some sort of stroganoff with a chocolate cake for dessert. She had been told that chocolate was her father's favorite, and this dinner was supposed to go smoothly. Carolus knew she was a traitor, that subjective term. He knew of her trips to Adria and how compassionate she was, enough so that the Deputy Palatine attempted to suggest peace. Mariya's plan for this dinner was to bring the King to the military keep she called home and try to convince him to step forward with his own terms of peace. However, The Colborn had eventually gotten back to Mariya that he had succeeded in getting the King of Haense to consider such. The King was to call for a Herzenfest, gathering all the peers to a meeting where they would discuss and vote on how they would move forward. Elated by the news, Mariya decided that she would bring this up with her father as well, get information, and ask what changed his mind. Even if he was to discuss peace with the peerages, Mariya practiced caution, especially with the vicious attack on Lorena Gant for also being a traitor. There was a fear in the back of the princess's mind that should she walk into Karosgrad, her people would also beat her or threaten to take her head. King Georg never showed up, only Ser Vanhart. The knight explained that Georg never came because they thought it was a setup, that the poor princess was being held captive and that a brigade of Adrians were waiting. That was not the case, and the only thing Vanhart was met with was Mariya, a few people who roamed or worked in the keep from time to time, and a dinner waiting in the kitchen. There was a confrontation as Ser Vanhart attempted to bring the princess back home to discuss everything with her father in Karosgrad. When she refused, Ser Vanhart left, promising the young princess, that seventeen-year-old, that he would find her on the battlefields because he was wrong about her. She pleaded for him to tell her father she was sorry, but the knight refused and insisted she wasn't. This wasn't the way it was supposed to go. Mariya wanted peace for her friends back in Adria and for her family back home. Her father insisted that no matter what she would have chosen as her future path, that he'd have been proud of her - Orcish Shamanism, Magery, or being a ward in the Adrian courts should the war end. It didn't matter as long as Mariya was happy, then Georg was happy, or so he said. In the end, it was best to just leave. She had decided that since Ser Vanhart wished to go home and lie to her father about her intentions, that she would pack up all of her things from that keep and head to Adria to stay. She feared that the Brotherhood would soon march on Sheffield, so as soon as the Knight left, Mariya did as well. The days that followed were quiet and peaceful. There was still that fear that lingered in her thoughts, the regret knowing that no matter how hard she tried, her family now hated her. She would never see Aleksandr smile again, not at her... She would never again see Stefan’s stupidity as he moved about the square, messing with the young women in the streets. It was hard, but it was the path she chose in turn for the Duke’s hand, or the comfort of her friends and mentors who showed her more attention than her own blood. Maybe one day everything would die down and she’d be able to hug her family once more, assure them that she still loved them. It would just take time, and even with this failure of hers, she would pick herself up and try again. So there she sat in her new room, hopeful and bright as always, enjoying the air that swept through her windows. At least for a time.

The missive detailing her disownment thankfully didn't grace the young Barrow's eyes for that first day. She spent her time in her new room, sorting the few things she took with her: Necklaces and gifts given to her by friends over her years, letters from those she cared about. The shaking of her hands would stop eventually, and she'd eventually be able to stomach some food.

When Mariya Karenina eventually found out, she'd offer a soft prayer out into the realm for her great aunt. The air felt heavy in the palace that day, and in her room did the princess cry. Though the news would never reach it, somewhere beyond the realm and void of all good things, would a particular soul feel the impact of the princess he once considered a sister.

"Do not forget, Your Grace Burning and tearing down houses brick by brick out of petty spite. They rest every night with us on their minds." Azrielle penned back in jest

Azrielle Vilac read through the missive, a brow raised as she glanced over each word. "Ea will just simply say no if that is what I wish... Also, a criminal in Balian? Es this on paper? I do not remember ever hurting or threatening August. He was always my favorite of the children, en besides Gwendel en his lies, Persephone en her spawn were quite sweet to me before Gwendel did what he did. You would think after two decades, they would learn to breathe a little. I had the evidence, I was present to witness the crime, I did what I needed to do for justice, it is not my fault that the leader of their branch MURDERED a man. "This has come a couple years too late. As far as I know, everyone else who has claim to the name Vilac sees those of Marius' line as a joke anyways. Though they have taken quite well to me and Wilhelm, surely it will not be hard for me to get the name back if I even bother dropping it at all." Azrielle handed the missive over to Everett O'Rourke, allowing him to read it though. "Maybe I should show this to Emerentia and her brothers, or Wilhelm, surely she would get a kick out of this." The woman couldn't help but laugh. Though perhaps there was some relief if she dropped the name and let the others reinstate it. A snip from Marius Vilac's line? No longer associates with the snakes down south? The trial was over, Justice was served. If they no longer wanted her, then perhaps that was a good thing. No longer my circus, no longer my monkeys.

A Hope for Justice A response from Azrielle Vilac More than a decade has passed since I spoke the truth about the murder of Teft Barclay, violently committed by my once beloved older brother, Gwendel Vilac. I still stand by this testimony today just as I did when I originally spoke it to the now Duke of Minitz, Brandt Barclay. Times and ages may not be exact as some of these accounts were many years ago, but the events themselves are still nothing but the truth, and I will swear this under God. I will start as my brother's statement did; I have lived a simple life since birth. I was born to Victoria Vasile and Marius Vilac, raised in Acre by my mother until we moved down to Balian to live in a home given and maintained by Gwendel. Do not let his words fool you though, as Gwendel, Antonius, and I are triplets. I too shared a womb with these men, and am one of the eldest of thirteen children as well. I acted as a true older sister, assisting where and when I could. I admit that between the two, Gwendel was the better of my older brothers when it came to controlling his violence and anger, so when I recount the events of the murder, it breaks my heart that someone I loved and trusted with my life would betray me in such a horrid way. It is true that our father left us with the false promise of returning, but I will not sugarcoat why he never found his way home. Around the age of ten, I took a trip to the Lector’s Keep in Aaun with my brother Antonius to view the body of my poor father. Marius Vilac was killed and crucified by the Lectors for being in affiliation with the Heralds of Azdromoth. It was a gruesome scene and one no child should ever witness, but it is the truth. The preachings and friends of my father found themselves in the ear of Antonius, who tried to push such on to me and would verbally abuse me when I refused to hear him out. In my late teens, early twenties I had left my brothers in Balian to seek out a new home and new opportunities, which led me to a small farm home in Minitz. Here I had met the victim, Teft Barclay, and the two of us grew quite fond of one another. For the first time In my life, I had not only found my place, but with someone who made me feel wanted and loved. My brothers were not so inviting of Teft or the fact that I had found myself surrounded by those of House Barclay. When speaking to Teft, they often got loud, being outspoken that they were not to approve of our relationship. Regardless, after a couple years, Teft and I had gotten engaged under the table, keeping such news from Gwendel as he still made it clear that he wished to dictate my life, and would be the one to approve or deny this proposal himself. We both knew what the answer would be, and wished to keep our affairs private. With that context, during the time of my engagement, I had taken a trip for a year or two in the attempt to learn more in the way of medicine. I had wished to become a better medic for the growing town, and sought more knowledge so I could achieve this. At the time, Teft had sent me a letter that I believed to be him thinking we had separated. When I had gotten this letter, I was confused because the meaning itself was unclear and I returned home to see if I could get an answer for it. For some reason, Gwendel had decided to visit Minitz that day and was one of the first to also read this letter. He had fully believed that it was a way for Teft to leave me, and his anger took over. When Teft arrived to Minitz that afternoon, he had been intercepted by Gwendel, and the two of us were not allowed to speak. He took Teft and I from Minitz to Petra where the Vilacs were settled at the time and led us to a small cave that seemed to be an old mine with a drop off. Gwendel then forced Teft to the edge of that drop off and began to question him about promises he had made to our house. My brother Antonius held me in the back of the cave to keep me from attempting to stop our brother. I just remember Gwendel using a weapon to threaten Teft, using it as a way to try and force him to back off that ledge. Teft’s death was rubbed in my face and I was reminded of this tragedy constantly. I was told that I would die if I had released the information of what happened. I could not bear to live in Minitz anymore, and was moved to the Vilac manor in Petra. We had planned a wedding, and spoke often of the children we would one day have. I had to live in that house with my brothers as they grew relationships and families of their own, raising children that I myself could not have. They took that opportunity from me and got to live their perfect lives until I finally decided to speak out about what had happened. When I told those in Minitz of the murder, my brothers returned to that abusive behavior, even going as far as teaching their children that I was an awful woman who betrayed my family. I was so worried for my life that I went as far as asking for Oijin to help me disguise myself, changing my hair color and eyes. Since then I have been living between both Minitz and Petra, doing my best to move past this. I will not be able to make the trial of my older brother, once again, I write this and swear that this is the full truth. In my home within Minitz, I leave evidence such as: The note of assumed separation Teft Barclay wrote and signed. A note detailing the location of where the murder took place. The bottles given to me by Oijin that helped me disguise myself. A weapon paired with a note. May justice be served. Blood for Barclay. Signed, Dame Azrielle Vilac

From a tower somewhere north, away from the chaos that had fallen into her life, Mariya Karenina listened to the news of the plans from her hosts. Her hair tangled over the days, but the headaches would slowly stop thanks to the fresh air of her hold. She was tired of the war, but that was not news.

After picking up one of the poems that somehow found its way into the Princess' dress shop, Mariya Karenina Barbanov frowned at its contents. "Now this war has brought littered trash to our streets... We should act with class, niet this vulgar excuse for poetry from someone who is unwilling to even attach a name to this. Pathetic. Even Aedypapej Borris in his lowest times has somehow been able to turn his ill-mannered thoughts into something at least entertaining to read, whatever this is, get it off our streets.." After spilling her thoughts to the shop worker, the Princess flicked the paper on to one of the counters at her side. "Ea will be back.. They could niet even put it on the boards, they had to throw them across the floor..." And off she went to pick up every piece of poetry that was left around the square.

The Princess Mariya read through the missive in the comfort of her room, grumbling softly under her breath as she tucked the paper into the drawer at her side. Her focus centered now on the stone dog that watched her as she moved about the room... "Well Iwa.. Suppose the gifts for Viktor will have to wait."

MC Name: Phersades Discord: Catalina#8540 Image: Description of Image: Painting of the princess Mariya Karenina for her boutique Dimensions: 2x2

Despite it all... She wept. Alaesia Ithelanen sat on the stone floor of her home there in the city, her knees pulled up to her chest which heaved as she sobbed. He was not loyal to her; he did not stay with her through the worst of it as most married men and women swear to. He had brought her the most pain she had ever felt, and before his death he had left her alone. Despite all he had done to her, she still loved him. With every new woman she heard about, she still loved him. With the time she spent alone in her house raising their son, she still loved him. She remembered many years ago, sitting in the basement of her Amaethean home in the cold quiet of that empty city. The Ithelanen had nobody; No idea where her mother was, no family, no Agis, but she did meet Acanthus. Acanthus, the young prince who offered her his hand for one reason or another, and he had saved her from herself. He had given her what she needed to grow; Love, and her son. He was gone now, and even before his death he had never truly been how he was when they first met.. She had changed as well, she liked to think, but that did not stop her from the grief and loneliness that fell over her and for the first time in nearly fourty years, she sat in that hole once more like she did before he had entered in her life. The only thing she could stare at from the corner where she sat and cried was the lunarite crown he had given her after they wed, never to be worn again.

"A shame that my brothers and their sons were not as strong as they claimed to be... Maybe if they had done more training rather than acting out like rabid animals, the fight would have gone differently.... Only Godan knows." Azrielle Vilac mused as she returned from the fight, proud to carry her own scars and wounds.

Lucia Carrion read through the warning, a scoff coming from the aging medic as she set the paper down and wondered where she would keep her bokolos now..

A small princess sat in the comfort of her room within the palace... The missive sat on the lap of her handmaiden while she read it out, her hands preoccupied with brushing the Barbanov's wavy locks through. Mariya braided the yarn that made up her own dolls hair and listened to the news. It wasn't a bedtime story by any means, but she asked to hear what the missive held. She asked what every other word meant but understood nothing but upon hearing the name of the house under fire, her eyes widened, and her soft voice rang out. "Aedypapej? Is everyone mad at him?" The Handmaiden shrugged, folding the missive up soon after. "Yam sure you will learn plenty about it once you are grown, worry little, your highness, fore it is bedtime."

Alaesia Ithelanen forced a soft smile as she reached up to pull the crown that currently sat upon her own head. She stared down at it, her mind plagued with the worst thoughts.. It did not matter in the end, she was thankful she would no longer be what she was... Her position gave her a family, it gave her the son she has done nothing but adore. That was enough for her, even if she gave nothing back. Even if she did nothing to help the nation she married into. Regardless, she laid the crown on top of the missive detailing the coronation and she muttered something about relief and excitement for a new era.

So much is lost to those so small; Memories of those who held them, or the way the voices of their loved ones chimed about the rooms, how they were doted over, the attention they were once given. Mariya's eyes only took in the colors, her attention being pulled one way or another by laughter or idle conversation at that last dinner. Only then, in her father's arms, did she happen to catch glimpses of her grandmother. The little princess gummed on her fingers and simply watched: What would she learn from this woman? Who was she? How much would they love each other? Questions lost to the world as the woman faded before the girl's second year. However, the princess would eventually grow alongside the curiosity she held of her grandmother's nature, and she would adore the paintings of the late Queen Amadea and only hope she too could be as great as her.