sondher

Nastasiya vas Ruthern smiles from within Maya Sr's basement upon hearing the news.

bye bick :(

Published the 9th of Tobias’ Bounty, 1891 The Baron d’Artois was finally laid to rest after succumbing to his chronic illness on the 15th of Godfey’s Triumph, 1891. At just twenty-seven years old, Arnaud has left behind me, his wife, and seven children which were always so dear to him. My heart aches and refuses to believe that the charming boy, whom I met at thirteen years old, is gone. He had a love and fascination for poetry, dance, music and life all around. Though our relationship was not always perfect, he constantly put in extra effort to make sure that I was comfortable. I have never met another as caring and kind as Arnaud, it is a shame that he was taken from this realm so soon. Along with his family, he has left his ancestral home, Artois, into the hands of his eldest child and her regent. The young Lord was believed to have caught a fever, suffering for three years prior to his death. As he was conscious of his gradual deterioration, he prepared a contingency for the legacy of Halcourt. Originally he planned for me, Henrietta Halcourt d’Artois, to become Regent… but shortly before his death, I fell ill to the very same sickness which took my husband. Unable to muster the strength which is necessary to fulfill the tedious tasks of ruling, I resign from the position as Regent and grant it towards my late husband’s beloved sister, Béatrice Cateline Halcourt d’Artois. I have faith in her work and believe that she will do an exquisite job managing Artois. The Baronial title is now given to the late Lord Arnaud’s eldest daughter, Lady Nicoletta Anastasie Halcourt d’Artois…now dubbed the Baroness d’Artois. Until the eight year-old Baroness reaches the age of sixteen, Lady Béatrice Huntshill shall oversee the realm and take Baroness Nicoletta’s place in the seat of the Harvest Lords in Petra until her era of Regency reaches its end. My daughter, the Baroness of Artois, takes after her father. Not only has she adopted his characteristics, she has also developed his intelligence and love for writing. I have no doubts that once she is old enough, she will make a fantastic leader on the Commonwealth’s council. My blessings go out to my family. I pray that they do not catch this horrid sickness that has spread amongst my husband, my darling son and daughter, and myself. I pray for the health of the Halcourts and our future. My blessings are also sent to my love, Arnaud, may we be reunited one day in the Seven Skies. Que Dieu bénisse l’Artois. Que Dieu bénisse cette famille. SIGNED, BARONESS-DOWAGER, LADY HENRIETTA WILHELMINE HALCOURT D’ARTOIS

Nastasiya, freshly recovered from the sickness that took so many of her kin, spent the consecutive days training-- striking dummies made of straw with her wooden sword. After each successful slash she would habitually glance to the side, seeking a certain raven-haired girl's exclamation of praise, the kind she used to receive from her best friend Milena... but the girl was no longer around. With the exception of the creaks of the old barn she trained in, and her heavy breathing, there was an unwelcome silence that resonated. Her arms finally went limp, weak after what felt like days of relentless beating. She had spent so long trying to distract herself, only for it to ultimately fail. The harsh reality had stricken her cruelly. . . Milena vas Ruthern was dead.

Nastasiya shot an askance look to each youth she passed by from then on, wondering which one of them had snitched to her mother about her partying and antics.

Carolina Temesch boasted a rather proud grin as she spied her husband's name listed amongst the special invitees, "A masquerade, how lovely, Paul! We must go," She finalized without awaiting the Count's approval.

"Nie, nie. They have a point, there is an alarming lack of papej's," The scruffy Ruthern, Nastasiya, commented, jabbing a calloused finger towards the article she referred to.

aye thx puta

Nastasiya cheers for her friend, Lorence Arvid Colborn!

Henrietta Halcourt could barely recall the distant memories she had of her great-aunt, whom she had never really had the opportunity to become close with. Despite the estrangement that she shared with that side of her family, the Baroness d'Artois sent her condolences to Eugenie's Preussens' offspring, feeling sympathy for her relatives.

Nastasiya grinned arrogantly upon reading over the pamphlet, before boasting the fact (to her friends and family) that she had engaged in over five duels at just the age of thirteen. There was no one to say whether she won or lost though. . .

Nastasiya vas Ruthern skimmed over the missive with pouted lips, her calloused hands thoughtfully massaging her bruised knuckles-- a result of the Princess and Falstaff's argument.

Carolina Temesch pushed her spectacles further up the bridge of her nose as she closely examined the Constitution. The ghostly-pale ginger beamed a bright smile upon spotting her signature. Her bony hand reached out, extending a glass of Port de Province towards the ladies gathered around, "To a glorious future, with many opportunities!" The Countess toasted cheerfully, "Now let's get to work."

Carolina eagerly read over the missive, beaming a broad grin before dipping her head in approval, "AVE PETRA!" Exclaimed the patriotic Countess, her periwinkle irises peering out a window in Temesch Hall, overseeing the vast beautiful fields that bordered the keep.

Nastasiya never knew the name of the man, she didn't need to, she called him papej. Despite being aware of his passing, she didn't understand the permanence of death. The youth frequently found herself waiting for the man in the square of Karosgrad, her broad emerald irises desperately roving over the faces of those passing by, but even as time went, she never saw the face of Godric Adrian Colborn. The Ruthern's naive, innocent spirits were quelled as she realized that she may never see him again. . .