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Ink splodges dripped onto a slither of fine paper. 'Dearest Bianka...' The quill swirled in cursive, and at a blink of an eye there was already a paragraph written. Would she ever send it...? The other letters sat in between old books, left yet never truly forgotten. She must send a gift at least. She made her way to her jewelry box and almost immediately found what she had been looking for, dropping it into the envelope with the note. Surely, one day, the time would be right. Maybe that day was today.

"They took the previous Orenian capital's name and merely tagged it with 'new'?" Questioned the reader who was too busy observing the affairs of the world. "And I thought the name itself was supposed to be named after the late Frederick's wife. If you wish to make a better future for the people, you could at least start it without the inheritance of a kingdom you wish to not be, yet clearly are excelling in restoring without explicitly saying so." She let out a chortle to herself.

"Macaroooooooonies..." Daydreamed the young Alyona Rhetta Godunov. Wanting to be in attendance after finding out about the event, she rushed off to find her two other triplet siblings. @CanadaMatt@Itz_Cookie

A pale finger skimmed over the papered missive slowly, taking in each word, until the pointing came to a halt. "And history repeats itself- almost." Commented the reader. Where usually she would of laughed after, the air was filled with a drawn-out silence. Her room once more became an echo chamber to her thoughts; wondering what could of been.

Anne de Vilain placed the auction's missive upon her husband's desk once news had spread to Karosgrad. "Finally, someone serves us justice..." She commented when pointing to the specific bidding of Charlie the Chicken, hardly containing her laughter, "and only 3,000 minae too! What a mockery." @Greehn

The lurker of the Jazloviecki manor, Cathy, held the missive of the House's current affairs. She paid little attention, skim-reading it, a soft exhale border-lining a huff escaping her lips. It was a specific conversation she craved now, one that rattled her bones even in thought, yet it was the only thing now on her mind. The de Vilain scrunched up the parchment and stashed it into her satchel - venturing off to find a specific bastard of House Jazloviecki.

"They also tried to dishonour the de Vilain family name when they took to arguing with my sixteen year old niece, and then refused to duel." Commented Anne when reading the Petra Post's particular section, delivered fresh this morning by her brother. The air was crisp this particular month of Sigismund's End east of the River Petra, the birds cooing. "Wolfgang, you should see what Adrian delivered!" The redhead held her shawl close and made her way indoors with the newspaper clutched at hand; leaving the bitterness of the cold. @Greehn

Peering over Wolfgang's shoulder, the Lady de Vilain made a mental note of the date. "May Sviatoslav be blessed finally with the nourishment of good union, for the ruins of his last marriage certainly left a mark on us all." Anne remarked with a sigh.

Anne made sure she would be in attendance with her husband! "Oh, how love seems to blossom almost everywhere these days..." She chimed.

"Maybe I should be in attendance, and support those who I can..." Commented young Cathy de Vilain outside of the Jazloviecki residence, visiting them once more after having read a missive on her way into the region. "They do work hard after all."

There were no words that left the lips of a dark-haired woman. Simply, she grimaced; scrunching the letter in her gloved hand as if it were thorns. Despite her attempts to let it go from her mind for the rest of the day, the thought of the house's state made her restless. In the end, she retired to her bed and sat upon it - a particular portrait across her room staring right back at her.

"You shall pave the way for a new Acre, I am sure." Anne commented to Wolfgang in Castle Vilain's living quarters after the congress. "You have the support of many, all who wish nothing but the best for your people. You displayed diplomacy whilst that pathetic excuse of a ruler walked away with cowardice." @Greehn

Anne grimaced, having seen two Aaun supporters leave Acre after trying to promote a duel against its baron. It isn't very sovereign-like to lie in front of God, for all of Almaris to see, is it? She thought. They drew blades first and we were asked to leave upon being denied the right to secede. I recall seeing a vein pop upon his forehead, not wanting to lose more land. How very unsovereign.

A young child, one who hardly remembered her mother's face nor knew her father, sat idly by the riverside. Her legs swished about in its waters, paddling calmly, hands thrown in the air out of exclamation. The five year old let out a loud shriek of laughter, unaware that the very same thing she found enjoyment in now had ended the life of both her parents. Oh, born from their affair - yet now was the only thing that remained of it.

After a long day in the sun, farming that of berries from the vineyard of Acre, Cathy de Vilain was made aware of the summit's discussion. Though she had not been present at the meeting, she was indeed a witness to what had transpired the given day of the election. She thought long and hard, particularly on the mention of 'nobility' a little too often. Was it only those of noble kin that mattered? What about those her brother tenanted on the lands of the barony? She shook her head with furrowed brows and continued on with her basket at hand.

A young girl, one who barely knew how to read or write properly yet, stared at the jumbled letters of her name: LADY MADELEINE RENÉE OF ARTOIS. She clapped for her successes, even if she wasn't conscious of them yet.

Her presence within Castle de Vilain was never known, yet upon that day her mother's words led her to belt out a loud cry. Catherine did not know her father well, being a reclusive in Hannibal's shadow, yet the news had struck her all the same. The ringing in her ears, harsh and loud, relentless in its call to forget she was ever told. Her mother handed her the letter, and once in her possession the young girl turned on her heels to walk out of the room. She made her way up to the top of the castle and sat herself down among the pigeons. Cathy de Vilain wiped her face with sleeve, looking to the letter. Once more she disappeared for the rest of the evening to be alone with her thoughts.

Upon hearing the news of the Sedan Academie finally opening from Makoto himself, Ottilie rushed down the Jazloviecki residence's stairs. "CHILDREN!" She yelled, pamphlet at hand, "IT IS ABOUT TIME YOU GET SOME GOOD EDUCATION!" @Siranja @Tourning @scarahpot @Pork

ISSUED ON THE 11TH OF HARREN'S FOLLY, 1890 After the great success of Her Most Honourable's tea party, Princess Augustina de Joannes and Margravine Ottilie Jazloviecki welcome the women of Sedan once more to a revelry of sisterhood in the form of a soirée. Situated on the palace's veranda, the sunset's gaze will overview the attending guests as they mingle over fine red wine. Much shall be discussed at said meeting - from the latest gossip in the Sedanian ranks, opinions on political matters, upcoming events and much more. Adorning fine silks and garments, the women attending are to look the part and dress up for their own self-indulgence. To reiterate: this event shall consist of women-only, with the exception of Mister Makoto Iekami who serves under Her Imperial Highness. Any men, particularly husbands who lurk in the shadow of their wives, will not be allowed upon entry. SIGNED, Her Imperial Highness, Princess Augustina Theorosia de Joannes, Princess of Balian and Sedan, Baroness-consort of Ponce The Most Honournable, Lady Ottilie Franziska Jazloviecki, Margravine-consort of Grodno, Baroness of Castile, Member of the Princess Council

The Margravine-consort looked to the missive with furrowed brows of worry. "Oh, what a dreadful thing..." She ushered, looking to her aurum blade Sunlight that hung by her husband's longsword.

DATED THE 12TH OF THE SUN’S SMILE , 1889 The past decade has been one of many hardships. To lose one's home, to feel the loss of a loved one, to become a victim of war - each bears its many scars that forevermore will follow me onward. Upon the triumph of the Barony of Acre and his surrender as Lord Protector of Oren, Elric Castile has disappeared with no trace. My brother is now presumed dead. Whether he is or not, I have left myself grieve for him in private for some years. Despite his actions he did in the name of the fallen kingdom, I loved him fiercely. I had looked up to him for the duration of my adolescence, and once I had reached the age of maturity he had continued to be that burning torch of reassurance. There was one occasion I recall - my wedding day - where he had taken the time to calm my nerves before he walked me down the aisle. In those moments, Elric possessed a caring nature only those close to him had witnessed. He was also charismatic, and a loyalist until the end. In light of his condition, I inherited the Barony of Castile. It was an unthinkable outcome when we had first been awarded the title, for me to carry it, yet no one could have foreseen the future. I had put off an official statement on the status of one's house and barony for some time, and yet as I start to heal I find it only appropriate to address such matters now. The Barony of Castile, as well as House Castile, will remain under the wing of House Jazloviecki and the March of Grodno until my death. Serving as Grodno's consort for over a decade by my husband's side, I find it most suitable that the two families shall be united side-by-side to gain back the presige we once had until my heir takes over. Wherever my family goes, I go. This has led me back to the Principality of Sedan. Whilst my brother left many years ago after our family served the de Joannes for many years, fate has led us back to our roots. I am unsure of what this may bring, but I only intend to do what is best for the future going forward. As for my heir, my children were born with a Lechian legacy, one of which does not entitle them to carry my responsibility. Yes, I recognise that they are of Castile blood too, yet I know that my brother would have wanted to keep our line going with kin intended to rule Castile and not Grodno. Therefore, if any one of my siblings can prove themselves that they are willing to continue our family's name and honour after my death, then they should do so. My loyalty and trust is won through those who act, not by our predetermined connections. I will not have us erased from history because of Castile men and women who abandon their namesake, for they disappeared like Elric - only they chose to do so. It is undeserving, particularly when in times of need they hide. Even without Elric, Castile will prevail. The Harvest Confederacy thrives on my brother's surrender, and whilst his role within the war may have tarnished our family name, I will do my best as matriarch to overcome its losses and march us forward into a new tomorrow. SIGNED, The Most Honournable, Lady Ottilie Franziska Jazloviecki, Margravine-consort of Grodno, Baroness of Castile

Ottilie Franziska expected Makoto to show - after all, she did agree about him being an honourary woman in her eyes.

ISSUED ON THE 11TH OF THE FIRST SEED, 1889 Upon the recent move to the Principality of Sedan, the women of House Jazloviecki find themselves seeking companions to socialise and confide in within their new homelands. Therefore, the Margravine-consort of Grodno and her eldest daughter Walentyna Stasia invite all women, both of noble and common blood in Sedan, to attend an afternoon tea party to enjoy some light beverages and the accompanying chatter that follows such events - whether it be idle conversation or gossip. Not only will this occasion introduce the new citizens of Johannesport amongst those in attendance, but hopefully shall establish further connections for a possible lady's society in the near future. SIGNED, The Most Honournable, Lady Ottilie Franziska Jazloviecki, Margravine-consort of Grodno, Baroness of Castile The Honourable, Lady Walentyna Stasia of Grodno

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