Eryane

@PerfectlyPeachy "Mamej!" A child's voice rang throughout the grey halls of the Ruthern keep. She was barely able to even finish reading when she was awakened with a sudden burst of excitement that incited her to seek out her mother as soon as she possibly could manage. Hastily, Elizaveta dashed up a set of stone stairs that echoed with each hurried footstep. She held a parchment in the air, holding it out for her mother to take and look at. "May I go? I promise to attend all my ballet lessons, and every other lesson, and everything else. All of it."

Closely did Elizaveta listen to the words of her mother, even if she was quite young. All of this she took in for her future, and for what was to come for the House of Ruthern. "The weak shall always fear the strong," she repeated under her breath.

"Mamej, are they scared of us?" asked the small Ruthern child, Elizaveta, after she had overheard her mother reading the missive. @PerfectlyPeachy

After returning home from the neighboring kingdom, Elizaveta walked the bustling streets of Branhavn and listened in on all the buzz around her. The moment she was lost within the gathered people, she clung to her mother and father again without looking away from what she observed in the small town. She gripped her small rapier that hung at her side, for even she had been warned of what may come. @PerfectlyPeachy@Demavend

Many years ago in her youth, a red (yet pinkish) haired girl sat by a roaring fire within the crystal and glamour of Castle Stassion. The first snow of the winter began to trickle down from the sky, although the snowflakes would certainly not stick. These realities certainly were of no bother to young Arabella of Carolustadt at the time, who listened carefully to the stories told by a collection of Orenian courtiers who too were fascinated by the beautiful snowstorm - yet spoke of another place where it was always this colorful and beautiful, with a vibrant culture unmatched in much of humankind. These ladies spoke of Haense, their travels there, and the sights of the red city of Karosgrad with its ambitious new king and imperial wife, Karl III and Amadea of Susa. The year was 1875. Six years later, the flames were not contained within a fireplace of that same castle. A roaring fire reached far above the castle walls, taking anything and all with it that it could. Her first home had been dissolved - the empire - through external and internal divisions and turmoil. And now her second, destroyed. The lands of Haense were all that remained in her mind, and the story-like place that she remembered hearing about time and time again. The realities of the Orenian ladies' descriptions were true - that is, regarding King Karl III. When she entered the Haeseni palace with only a patched-up bag on her back and feet blistered and bloodied from endless days of walking, she nearly fell to the floor from her exhaustion. Yet seeing a man who clearly distinguished himself as the king by his attire, she managed to upkeep some strength to present herself. She spent the evening in the feast hall, discussing her hopes to settle in Haense and finally be at rest with a stable home. She would not see him again, until her days as a Petran Ambassador to Haense in her brief service in foreign diplomacy and the Petran government after the fall of the Acre. He had not changed besides his age and perhaps grey hair, which she no doubt expected from years of leadership. His ambition did not waver, nor did his clear vision for his country or aspirations to continuously work amidst what Arabella saw as a perpetually growing golden age for Haense as a world hegemon. In Branhavn, in the Duchy of Vidaus, an aging imperial lady lit a candle at her window sill. She lived out a life of stability now, a life of relative happiness, where she knew that her sovereign would look after her well-being and those around her. Although Karl would undoubtedly be remembered in history for his ambitious, relentless behavior - she would remember him for his kindness and passion towards his people.

Deep within the lands of the Ruthern duchy of Vidaus, Elizaveta walked the quieted halls of her home that had fallen into mourning as soon as the news had spread. Her lips were puffy and her eyes were red from hours of long sobbing at the grandmother - and Queen - she hardly had known.

Shakily, Arabella of Carolustadt settled the pages down on the wooden desk before her. Even with as many inhales as she attempted, little could be done to calm her. Although not Novellen by name, yet by blood as the daughter of Princess Victoria of Oren, her family's history haunted her as a strong force that once brought forth challenging dreams and ambitions which came into reality as - in many ways - the opposite.

Desperately, Elizaveta attempts to read the letter that her father was sent. Although she was quite young, barely able to read much, the Ruthern tried her hardest to comprehend what fancy words lie before her. She understood nothing. @Demavend

Ithirae appears again, as soon as she last disappeared, as she always tends to do - though it would not be long until she was gone once more. "So, tell me, from the beginning... What is happening?" she says to her sister Valyris.

"Always so well written," Ithirae remarked at her sister's new proclamation.

Arabella of Carolustadt, although not involved in Haeseni politics, takes the news from a courier on the road with some joy for the progressive move for Haeseni society and the continuation of the unique tradition started some decades ago. She wished the best for Queen Amadea's successes as the King's equal, albeit quietly and to herself, whilst traveling through the wintery lands of the dual monarchy. "Long live Queen Amadea of Susa," she'd repeat.

mad cause I wanted all the siblings to equally fight for the throne trying to get the peoples support >:(

which part of our reign did you enjoy the most & the least? also do you still put jelly in your eggs for breakfast?

From her residency in Branhavn, Arabella of Carolustadt curiously listened to the chatter on the street as rumors spiral. She hesitated upon what she heard - could it be true? - the arrival of her cousin, who she had figured to be dead with the rest of the Novellen at the fall of the empire's successor state. If she closed her eyes for long enough, she could still see the ruins of Vienne's palace, and hear the crunch of glass beneath her feet in the dining hall where all the stone busts of the rulers of Oren lay broken. If she tried even harder to tug at her memories, the crackle of a fireplace in the Aster Palace and her mother, Victoria - muttering off about something she couldn't comprehend. After packing her things to go into the capital city of Karosgrad, Arabella traveled the gravel roads leading to Hanseti-Ruska's capital to hear more information on the arrival. It gave her some feeling of nostalgia from stories she heard as a child, although this was quite different. Peace had finally been made - or at least some sense of it, and the international order had been entirely shifted. Nevertheless, she set out to find her family. Curiosity took the best of her.

And then, the wandering traveler was back within the vast range of the Haeseni lands, as per request by the king to stay as the Petran Envoy for some time in the palace. Arabella of Carolustadt overlooked the unfamiliar architecture that stretched across the colorful Karosgrad from a balcony high above most of the city's buildings. Now having a solidified alliance for what she hoped to be a new home and new beginning in Petra, she felt some ease. There was still much more work to do. With that, she downed the Carrion Black she had been recently given!

Ithirae cheers on her sister!

Elisabeth of Hanover wishes her children could've been treated the same by Henry Cordayne.

Ithirae gasps as she takes the document into her hands, as such was given to her moments ago by a courier. Then, she grins. "This is perfect for my new stand-up comedy! VALYRIS! Look!" Without another word, she runs off to find her sister. @Cepheid

Arabella lets out a heavy sigh of relief, at the haste response of the Queen to attend to the issue at hand - especially in a formal, well-written manner. "That's a monarch," the youth exclaimed to herself under her breath, increasingly becoming proud of her decision to have moved to Haense.

Having left behind the dissolved state of Oren, Arabella had settled her bags in the Haeseni lands. She had been there for a few weeks or so now, adjusting to a lifestyle entirely unlike her own after the end of the kingdom. Seeing this missive made her grumble, her nose scrunching. "This seems like an attempt to capitalize on the high division in humanity, and to bring it to Haense. I hope the people here don't fall for these tricks. I hope they stay proudly as one together, especially when the state easily could be in its golden age."

"I fear for what this sort of dish might do to your stomach," quickly chimed in that of Ithirae, who then glanced over the missive with narrowed eyes. "If it, by any chance, has anything to do with human style of cooking, I'm afraid the royal janitor will quit his job. We do have a royal janitor... don't we?" @JuliusAakerlund@VoxyNoir