The Silver Queen [AU]

[Tethras Clan]

Zevran and Isabela, naturally enough, turn heads by the dozen as they move through the building, getting a feel for the crowd and slowly trying to make sense of the rather organic and disorderly layout of the manor. Carver has more luck fading in the background, his impressive build and good looks being negated by his lesser quality outfit and barely hidden scowl. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

Which is why it's strange that it's Carver who runs into their host and his lady wife first. The bride has her hair done in an intricate braid, multiple braided strands woven into a single large plait down her back, with night-blooming moonflowers woven into it to provoke an ethereal, elven effect. Her ears are pointed, her eyes a cool, distant violet, her hair a shimmering, healthy silver. Her dress falls to the floor, covering her body in demure, complex layers of lace; her arms, shoulders, and upper back are a little more risque, still covered with lace but showing more skin beneath. This is the easiest place to pick out the design: there are hints in the top layer of very pale  pink, showing the design to be one of small, blooming carnations among the forest of greens that darken as the layers get closer to her skin. Likely the bottom layer is solid, a dark jungle green, but it's nearly impossible to tell. 

Her gaze is demurely pointed to the floor, and she says nothing, only curtseying when her husband squeezes her elbow just a hint to prompt her.

[Carver Amell]

Carver's eyes linger on the bride perhaps a moment too long. Elven, but otherwise, she seems nice. Respectable. Tame. It's what he would have wanted for himself, but somehow, he finds he'd prefer Isabela. I suppose I never really knew what I wanted.

Tearing his gaze away, he gives a small bow to Olocaryn. "How d' ya do?" he asks, playing up his rural accent. "Lovely party."

[NPCs]

Olocaryn pauses, just a second, at the greeting. "...charmed. I must confess I do not recognize you," he says rather pointedly.

[Carver Amell]

"Yeah, uh, my cousin, Zevran DuMont? He invited me to tag along, since I never been to a fancy city party like this one. I'm real impressed, to be honest. My pa always said we were born for city life, but Sweetwater ain't no city, not really, not like this'un. I didn' see what all the fuss was about, bein' in Sweetwater. But here... I ever get a hankering to sell Pa's land and move, I might just come back here."

[NPCs]

His expression slowly turns both amused and faintly condescending. "Well, we do pride ourselves in Jalzaid on being refined. We might not have the magic of Nyra, the piety of Draslina or the reach of Teurnal, but none can compare to our art or our beauty." He smiles slightly, glancing at his wife. "Which is not to say beauty cannot be found elsewhere of course- but I like to think we're clever enough to bring it home to enjoy, no?"

[Carver Amell]

"Well, I haven't been many places, but this is shore the finest. Congratulations to you and yours. Your wife is quite lovely as well."

[Coquette Blacquin]

The lady wife shows no sign of having heard, her eyes on the floor, silent. 

[NPCs]

Olocaryn's hand, resting just above the small of Coquette's back, presses lightly. Which would normally be something she'd barely feel. But in this case, that slight pressure pushes the pin that was 'accidently' left in her dress into her back, right over the spine.

[Coquette Blacquin]

She starts, not so much a jumping as a tensing, subtle enough not to be visible. "Thank you," she says simply. "You are too kind."

[NPCs]

"Forgive my wife, she's... not suited for crowds really," Olocaryn says politely. "She much prefers spending time alone with me or with a friend or two." Slipping on a look of concern, he pats her arm with his other hand. "Do you need to take a little time to collect yourself with Tessa, my dear?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"If it pleases m'lord husband," she says, her voice holding exactly the same meek inflection as before.

[Carver Amell]

"Uh... sure," he says, awkwardly. "Well, it was lovely to meet you, but I should find my cousin."

[NPCs]

Olocaryn clucks his tongue. "Yes, of course. I should take my wife downstairs so she can rest. She must be having another of her migraines," he says dismissively, leading Coquette of to another room.

[Carver Amell]

"That's a real shame. I hope you feel better," he says, as they part ways.

He'd meant it as a subtle excuse, but Carver does swing back to where he knows Zevran is mixing. He catches his eye from across the room, waiting for him to excuse himself (leaving Isabela to continue speaking to the couple they were chatting with) before he says quietly, "Something's wrong with the bride."