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“At least she did niet get her wish of a beheading upon Lucien’s ascension to the throne. Godani has spared her life for such vile wishes. Perhaps this is her penance for wishing death upon herself.” Stefaniya said according to the missive, knowing well that the girl was a traitor of state.

Stefaniya reads along the missive, then looking upon the signatures and knitting brows together. "Ea have niet seen half these people in Savoy, even before this whole ordeal. Clearly their loyalty lies niet in Savoy, but in the undead Vasileia." The girl then seemed to continue her walks through the gardens of the Palazzo, readying to meet the undead woman again, expecting to see her head fallen from her body the next time they met. What a grizzly sight to imagine.

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THE PRUVIAN LEGACY CONTINUES 16th of Harren's Folly, 1857 Upon the 16th of Harren's Folly, 1857, just nearly a year after TRH Countess of Provins, Lady Amadie Marlene and Charles Alexander Carrington-d'Arkent were wed, they have successfully sealed their wedlock by welcoming a child into the world, albeit prematurely. The firstborn of the Countess institutes an heir be brought upon Pruvia, as he shall be the next Count of Provins. Charles and Amadie have lovingly named their son Fernand Antoine Pierre Pruvia @Proddy who shall grow up in the settlement of Campagnon, fulfilling his youth in the countryside with his mother and other bountiful family members. Fernand has been born prematurely, though he has been surveyed by various and copious amounts of handmaidens, along with family members who have celebrated the new life and new future for Pruvia. He was born with the hair of his mother and grandmother, the Pruvian auburn, which can be described as brown tresses with reddish tones. He holds the tight and wild curls that his grandmother, Lady Claude Pruvia, also has. May God Protect this Child SIGNED, TRH Countess of Provins, Lady Amadie Marlene Pruvia Count-Consort, Charles Alexander Pruvia

“I believe the Daelish promise of neutrality was the ship that sank. We shan’t forget how those Daels stood upon the walls, bows loaded and arrows pointed at our Prince. Quite the neutral land, da?” Commented the Ruthern of Savoy, passing on the missive to the next.

“Ah.. despite all, we still trek onward.” Commented Stefaniya vas Ruthern, commending her acquaintances and friends alike on their successes, and the progress that continues to prosper in Savoy.

Stefaniya murmurs her agreement with all of her other soldiers, nodding her head and looking over the missive. "Da, Daelish Almanac. Da." Followed by the sole agreement of all the Legion.

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Stefaniya sends prayers to God, thanking him for blessing the Savoyards with such loyalty, and hopes that Vasileia finds peace in her torment.

Stefaniya vas Ruthern awaits about her balcony, the clanking and wave of heavy metal upon the entrance, a door folding open. Prince Lucien handed her the missive, her eyes skimming over the words, and a blessed smile of content, where the sun ray's have drawn across her countenance. "We prosper." Commented the betrothed of Lucien, dedicated to her country and land. @Milenkhov

Stefaniya vas Ruthern seems quite pleased, nodding her head and reviewing this missive along with the other ones of recent alliances.

The little Black Swan of Ruthern had made an appearance upon court, descending from her sleepy quarters and the dimness that engulfed the Palazzo Aggrade. Stefaniya vas Ruthern cracked open the door from the main hall of the Palace, her head peering unto the courtroom, where many of her people were gather, new and old. She slid unto the courtroom, where the Princess Catherine pronounced herself, a blur of an arising plot, a hint of something peculiar. A familiar face appeared to Stefaniya in her fervor, her eyes attentive on her half-brother, Rhys, Duke of Vidaus. "What is happening, borsa?" The eyes of the Ruthern seemed troubled, her mind wandering to foreign places, as she herself was in a foreign land. Though, Stefaniya did not need an answer, as the voice of her mentor rang throughout the halls. "He is not ready, he is far too young!" Princess Catherine's voice rang from all the others, proclaiming her regency to those Haeseni and those Savoyards. Stefaniya knew though, this was far beyond true. The boy-prince sat in his silence, perhaps a contemplation, as the crowd roared for his voice. They clambered over each other with vocals, clawing to hear from Lucien whilst Catherine was seemingly ignored. "I shall allow the regency to continue, though I shall remain in my birthright until I am of suitable age." Proclaimed he, the one all wished to hear from. The courtroom ran silent, attentive eyes watching the moves of the boy-prince. Not a noise was heard, but the eagerness was loud. "I shall revoke my position as regent." Exclaimed Princess Catherine, in a madness, a solemn, a state of unknown. Stefaniya believed that she was already floating into the Seven Skies, and prayers ran in her mind as the ease of the courtroom turned into disdain of the wailing Princess, who grew near to her son. Lucien proclaimed his love for his mother, a caregiver and nurturer, yet in her last moments, Stefaniya saw a different nature, one that was no longer a guide or a mentor. "She is nearing the Prince! She is nearing the Prince!" Suddenly, all was a blur, Stefaniya's gaze fading in and out, until a glimpse of metal, and the unsheathing of a sword came, and the light of God struck the sword's blade. Stefaniya then saw Catherine slip into the ground, though her spirit arose, a vision about the Ruthern, who feared what she saw was true. The horror, a terror striking through the courtroom, as Lucien had been crowned, a life anew, where one was lost again. "Long Live Prince Lucien, and so shall his mother." Stefaniya prayed that night, for the soul of Lucien's mother, hoping she found her way to the Seven Skies. It seems she had work to accomplish, and asked God to guide her path.

Maude Fitzpeter gives a thumbs up as she sees someone sporting her beautiful debutante gown! She smiles the sun's smile as the missive reaches her in the far off deserts, somehow still keeping tabs on the Empire. Countess Amadie Marlene was rather proud that she was spoke so highly of, and fanned herself to rid of her red-hot cheeks. She giggled and giggled.

A BLACK SWAN’S MIGRATION Stefaniya vas Ruthern tending to her florals in the Palazzo Aggrade “Yam here most of the time now since mea papej’s passing.” The words were uttered unto Prince Lucien, when Stefaniya was found roaming the streets of her to-be home. Stefaniya dreaded the day, and pondered it awfully for when she were to move to the Principality of Savoy. As the next Princess, a leader, a ruler, she knew she had to come to love her new homeland and all within it. One thing that kept her affection away was the dry desert lands of San Luciano, where rain was far and snow was even further. “Does it ever snow in Savoy?” Inquired the young Ruthern to the Princess of Savoy, who ultimately eased her qualms with the lack of snow, with a simple. “Sometimes.” Stefaniya then found herself proceeding upon horseback to Savoy, feeling displaced as her father had died, and her mother was absent. All who was left was Duchess Marie, who vowed to take care of her. Although blood was not in their favor, it was marriage that inclined their relationship, and Stefaniya found solstice in the Duchess. Though, she could not help but to believe that Marie became busier with her own children, and Stefaniya became displaced. The weary horse rides from Haense to Savoy became less, with her migration unto San Luciano, and extended stays. Home was not where her snow was, or the looming keep on the most solemn of days, but within her father. Stefaniya’s gaze extended out upon the window from her room, where the breeze of the ocean carried to her quarters, and she felt that somehow, her father was with her. A MISSIVE IS EXPRESSED TO THE DENIZENS OF SAN LUCIANO It pleases me to announce my permanent stay within San Luciano and the realm of Savoy alike. From my home in the Duchy of Vidaus to the Palazzo Aggrade, I shall remain to spend my time being tutored, learning medicine as per my father’s desires, and to focus on the people of Savoy. Eventually, I shall be the Princess of Savoy, and I find it necessary to conform to the culture and the ways of a Savoyard at a younger age, so that I may pass these principles onto my children and the future of Savoy itself. Lady Stefaniya vas Ruthern

“Oh! I knew he was on a date the day I saw him at the tavern with the Valerie girl. How lovely they are to be wed.” The Countess Provins mused, marking the date and sending prayers for the health of the couple.

Countess of Provins, Amadie Marléne surveys the missive posted outside of Aster Hall. With her sisters at her flank, composing the Madame de Provins, she knew that the season would vary from all the past ones. From the Madames de Savoie to a new generation, it was time to show that Pruvia was an exemplary house, with the strong-willed and handsome Provinois girls. “Come sisters, let us make our way back to Chateau d’Aubépine and prepare ourselves. We’ve a standard to meet.” @ncarr @VeganWalmart

A PROVINOIS UNION 1856 Union of TRH Amadie Marlene Pruvia, Countess of Provins and Charles Alexander d’Arkent of Carrington IT is with great pleasure that the House of Provins announces the esteemed marriage between The Right Honorable Amadie Pruvia and Charles Alexander of Carrington. The pair have been suited to a betrothal in their youth, and upon Astercalia’s commencement, will be wed thereafter the debuts. The union will feature accents from the Campagnois culture, inviting all within the realm to witness the display of said culture alongside the matrimony. The wedding shall take place beneath the Chateau d’Aubepine in the dense forests so that the Hawthorn fairies of Provinois can witness the rite of marriage upon the pair. With the conclusion of the ceremony, guests are asked to see the Chateau for the first time since it was built with festivities to follow. T I M E T A B L E The Entrance of the Bride | The entrance of the bride is an extravagant visual, where the bride rides in upon a white horse, or her preferred steed to share with the guests the Provinois equestrianism. It offers a whimsical attitude, as weddings are traditionally held within forests of the Provinois. Tossing of the Hawthorn | At the start of the wedding, each guest shall receive hand-picked hawthorn flowers to hold onto in duration of the ceremony. The aroma is said to calm the bride, and bring luck upon the to-be married couple. When the ceremony reaches its conclusion, wherein the bride and bridegroom have said their vows, the guests are to toss the hawthorn flowers where the pair stand. She will pick one up to put it in her hair, and it's said that the one who threw this flower will be blessed with fertility and luck. Festival of Olde | Proceeding the wedding will be a small festival in the courtyard of Chateau d’Aubepine where guests are asked to don flowy linens, prominent and bright colors, or any sort of extravagant clothing. Any sort of florals are highly encouraged, and hats are restricted. The festival will include food and drink, dancing with ribbons, traditional music provided by a bard, and a speech from the married couple. The Laurel Wreath | TRH Countess Amadie will be crafting laurel wreaths from the hawthorn flowers and branches from the teeming lands surrounding the Chateau. Anyone who asks will be gifted a wreath in the duration of the festival. The best dressed lady will have her hawthorns dipped in wine, tinting them a pinkish-red hue.

“How nice of them to invite the Pruvias. Guillaume, it seems they too believe my mother is Viscount, like you believe! Perhaps we will reserve the date.” The Countess of Provins, Amadie read off the missive to her brother.

"AH! I LOVE BEING A CAMPAGNOIS. Finally we see some rich culture.." The Countess Provins noted with a BEAMING SMILE!

Viscountess Amadie Marlene, a 10-year-old girl with barely any direction. Her father had abdicated in favor of her, and in favor of the piety within the church. "How will I do it?" She queried, a timid youth who barely left her room, a hard-set face, with the a storm of heavy clouds raining down on her, melting in responsibility. She knew not what was ahead of her, but she was born to be determined. The Viscountess of age 14, Amadie Marlene, the same name but a different ambition. She was meant to help Her Imperial Highness who has come back from a long voyage at sea, as she asks a favor. "Will you stand with me, Viscountess? We will restore the Empire to greatness," and Amadie agreed, knowing well that she was risking her life. Viscountess Amadie Marlene of Provins, as she stands before the dais, efficiently presenting her history in a form of lashing knowledge. She spewed this of her ancestors, of the ones before her who impacted the Empire, the ones before her who made her the Viscountess Pruvia. The ones before her who made her. . . Countess Amadie Marlene, as she stands upon the construction of her keep, overseeing that her masons continue their industrious climb. Today, it was not just a day to reminisce on her rich past, but to work for the good of her family - Pruvia.

Viscountess Amadie orders her sisters to start making preparations, getting the best silks and armor for the lovely Madames de Provins, and working toward showing her strength through the uniqueness of her family. She then pens a letter to Her Majesty, Empress Anastasya I. "Dear HIM Anastasya I, I am pleased to say that I am willing to sponsor one girl as a part of the Viscounty de Pruvia. It would be my pleasure to give a special experience to a girl of outstanding nature, but of common birth. I shall help her with the following: - Teaching of Provinois Culture - Finding a dress for the debutante - Teaching her etiquette - And inviting her to family functions upon the season Please inform me if you have found a girl who has ambitions to be a part of the season and partake in the extravagant Astercalia. It would be my honor to offer this experience, and I shall provide housing for any sort of House calls upon said girl. Sincerely, TRH Amadie Marlene Pruvia, Viscountess of Provins" @Eryane

Stefaniya vas Ruthern hopes she makes a good impression on her to-be father-in-law.

Viscountess Amadie reads over the missive, finding some issues with the rules of Astercalia. "No wearing armor? Nonsense. Presenting in pretty silks from foreign lands only shows my influx of mina, but not the willpower and strength my house holds." Amadie sat there with her sisters, having a rather bountiful talk about the influence of women in the coming decades, specifically with her mother's involvement with Rosemoor. "Do not follow such silly rules, as women are also soldiers, workers, Duchesses in their own right, and armor will not hold you back in your Empire."

Hiding within Vidaus was Stefaniya vas Ruthern with her dear sister, Angelika, the sounds of war, although far, were pounding in her ears. She could imagine the metal clanking and the explosions catapulting from the trebuchets, and the many men and women putting down their lives for their country, and this scared her. Although it was a battle of God and Land, she could only imagine her ailing father upon the fields, putting his last, like how he did with her and Angelika. "When will papej be home?" The girl queried innocently to her mother, awaiting his arrival so she could greet him the same way she always did, with a hug and a kiss, and the gift he brought for her upon returning was a story, always. Then he came. Blood ran from his mouth, staining his dark beard with eyes shut and body lifeless. She watched as he was carried into Vidaus, faces of solemn, faces of war. Stefaniya watched as he was transferred through the courtyard, and she followed behind, hoping to encounter him, to hear his smoky voice, just once. "Papej? What's wrong with papej?" Stefaniya trailed, continuing to ask the people surrounding her father, but no answer was gifted to Stefaniya, no word of her father's life, and how it had slipped from this world into the Seven Skies, and no word about what happened, And, no goodbye except her own.

Stefaniya vas Ruthern drops her mouth agape in awe, surely to use this upon her reign with Prince Lucien.