Work Text:
The mage lights in the hall were a touch too bright, reflecting off the marble floors. Deep blue Banners of House Montclair lined the walls giving the whole place an air of pageantry. Breton nobles from all over the land were in attendance. Silks and lace in different colors pooled and swished with movements. The only sound that was louder was the whispers
The Montclair's eldest daughter Elodienne was not on the dais with her parents. Rumors and speculation were making their way through the hall. Some said it was rebellion. Others insisted she was disowned. None knew the truth.
The doors to the great hall opened and their echo carried through the hall, silencing the whispers instantly.
Elodienne walked forward with a confidence of a noble who was comfortable in her place, but something more. She returned in Montclair blue, cut to the letter of Breton propriety. No sleeve too loose, no jewel misplaced. Her hair coiffed in perfect ringlets. And yet, something about her was different from the last time she was at court. She stood a little taller. Her steps more confident. Her demeanor calm, as if she was a part of and above the spectacle at the same time.
Behind her stood a man with red hair in full imperial Chancellor armor. Red, gold and silver. The whispers begun anew. Was Montclair seeking imperial favor?
Her heels echoed as she stepped forward and the steward announced her.
"The Lady Elodienne Monclair" there was a short pause, "and guest."
Elodienne quirked a brow at the subtle jab and placed her fingertips on the guard's forearm, merely the touch of fingertips against his armor.
She leaned in and spoke to the steward and his eyes went wide before bowing. "Yes, m'lady"
He cleared his throat and announced her again "The Lady Elodienne Montclair and her guard, Bastian Hallix of House Sivelle."
She walked forward with Bastian half a step behind and approached the dais where her parents sat.
"Elodienne, you've returned. We were afraid you'd miss the ceremony." Her mother smiled warmly and welcomed her daughter.
Elodienne continued to her empty throne beside her parents with Bastian taking his place just beside her. His eyes scanning and alert.
"You know I would not miss your birthday celebration, Mother. It would be the height of insult."
Her father studied her in silence, weighing not the armor at her side, but the steadiness in her gaze.
“The court has… spoken often of your absence,” he said at last.
“I would hope so,” Elodienne replied lightly. “Silence is rarely kind.”
A ripple of quiet laughter moved through the nobles nearest the dais, unsure whether they were permitted it.
She folded her hands in her lap, posture impeccable, expression serene. “Travel is instructive. One sees much of the world beyond these walls.”
“And what have you brought back with you?” a voice called from the gathered lords.
Elodienne did not look away from her father.
“Perspective,” she said calmly.
Beside her, Bastian did not move.
The whispers began again.
