Duchess Madeline Sherbourne was not exactly the one to be nubbed with the adjective of 'friendly' person. Social, flirtatious, entertaining, charismatic, yes, all of that, but not friendly. Evidently, not because she did not spend enough time with people. The balls and the parties she threw had become a sort of a legend in the right circles in Adesia, and if there was one thing they had never lacked, it was attendants. During such balls, the Duchess would rarely get a moment to rest, so taken up in all the chattering, gossiping, and mostly flirting harmlessly and dancing with gentlemen. Harmlessly, because no one would have dared imply she was unfaithful to the Duke out loud. Personally, they all held a lot of doubts. Yet she had taught them all better than to dare speak of them.

There lied the reason to her not being considered friendly. Becasue cruel, snobby and friendly had never belonged into the same group. Cruelty came first-she punsihed the slightest of mistakes with the dreariest of punishments. Her servants all knew their places more than just very well, and the halls of Roseworth Manor never looked anything but perfect. Her eye for details would have noticed any visible flaws right away, not bringing anything remotely good to the one who had made the mistake. Duchess Esabell had been far too lax on those matters in Madeline's opinion, allowing the maids to go nearly lazy. She had changed that drastically, and felt quite proud of herself for it. If it was possible at all for her to feel even more so.

Snobby-ever since she had been capable of thinking. Among all the beings not just in the Kingdom of Adesia, but on this Earth, Madeline considered herself to be the most perfect one. Infallible, beautiful, charming, she was uncapable of unearthing any, no matter how tiny, flaw within her behavior or her appearance, or her existence in general. Her vanity was known far and wide-all the courtiers and commoners alike knew that they would have extreme difficulties with their ascension back into her good graces if they ever dared let it slip she was not the most beautiful of Duchesses, the loveliest in Pemberton, the most beautiful of the Sherbournes. The wittiest, the most cunning and intelligent, too, of course.

Only one period of her life had she been different than that, and her vanity had subsided temporarily-after the death of her husband. Then, her coldness and cruelty had taken over completely, and she would have rarely displayed any emotions whatsoever. Now, she only displayed those she wanted for the people to see, naturally. She appeared a lot happier, but anyone who truly knew her was well aware that behind her smile, thousands of schemes and plots were hiding. Every move you made in her presence she remembered, using it later on. Men mostly forgot that around her, due to her seductive manners. That was either the end of them, if she disliked what they were about, or maybe a raise, if they were made after her likings.

In general, Madeline was keen on looking down on people. She had very little if no true friends, purely by her own choice-she only ever associated herself on higher levels with those she saw could be of further use to her. The others, she held around if solely for fun, and she resented from emotionally attaching herself to anyone. That way, all were dispensable. This statement excluded her children only. Her niece, perhaps. Perhaps. She knew her children were a weakness(the only one she recognized), but not caring for them had simply come as impossible for her. Instead of attempting to spare them the courtly intrigues, though, she urged them to participate in them further. It was the only way to gain power and respect, and keep it.

So, even though she was little past five years of age, her daughter, Lady Josephine, sat next to her in her receiving chambers, dressed in the most sophisticated of gowns one her age could have worn. It was of a darker shade of blue, with a tight bodice and a wide skirt. Madeline had had Diana, her most useful of maids, to braid the child's hair into a long braid on the side, which emphasized her face, proving how strikingly simillar to her mother's it was. Were it not for the childish plumpness, it would have been nearly completely the same. Josephine's expression was as serious as it should have been, slipping an occasional smile here or there. Her posture was already straight, attempting to immitating that of the Duchess(saw by occasional glances she cast at her mother).

Lord Devon, nine years old, nearing his tenth birthday, was also wearing an elaborate outfit, together with a pair of shiny black boots he had recently acquired. He was to Madeline's right side, on a velvet, green chair just like that of the Duchess, only smaller. He even had a small sword at his belt, and rarely smiled. Instead, he only produced sly grins and regarded everyone and everything around him coldly. It did not take trying or effort for Devon to be like his mother-his nature was the same. Madeline looked at him with a special dose of pride. Her heir. She would see him inherit the throne of Pemberton, if that was the last thing she ever did.

It was another afternoon of courtly entertainment in the Chambers of Duchess Madeline. Those were almost as famous as her lavish balls, and they did not lack anything. There were musicians with their instruments, playing the most modern of compositions, there were refreshments, there was enohg room for everyone to sit comfortly and endorse themselves in courtly love, gossip and banter. Certainly, no commoners were allowed to even get near to Madeline's personal receiving chambers, so they never attended such meetings. From time to time, a servant would have slipped in, carrying more beverages or in order to clean something up.

Whoever would enter the room would be scanned by three pairs of emerald eyes, Madeline's, Devon's and Josephine's. The first two had something alluring, yet somehow sinister and threatening within them, while Josephine's were trying to mimick them quite unsuccesfully. They were sincere, honest and widely open.

Naturally, the Duchess had arragned it for herself to be the center of the event. She was not left unattanded unless she wished for it to be so. The courtiers knew better than to look over that.

Not all the courtiers had appeared yet, but quite a number was there. Lord Evenstrome had just been excused by Madeline, and allowed to go get himself a drink, while Lord Danter had only entered the room, approaching the Duchess and bowing before her; "Your Grace." Then he did the same to Joesphine, who appeared a tad uncomfortable because of the act. However, she tried her hardest to respond to it as her mother had, with a hint of a smirk and extending her hand for the Lord to kiss it, "My Lady." To Devon, he solely bowed. He had had no problem with answering regally.

"Lord Danter." Madeline said in her usual seductive way, waving her fan, which was of the same emerald color as her extravagant gown, "So you have returned. How was Marcheford?"

"Not nearly as glorious as Pemberton, Your Grace." Danter nodded his head obsequiousely, "I also bring news for Your Grace..." Slowly, in detail, he relayed to her the tale of Baroness Elinor Brighton's race for the throne of Marcheford. Amused, Madeline raised her eyebrows.

"Elinor Brighton? I believe I have seen her on the ball in Dynham...a rather plain creature, if I recall correctly. Does she have any aid at all from Marcheford nobility?" Danter nodded again, pleased that he has managed to hold the interest of his Duchess for a longer amount of time.

"Yes, Your Grace, she does. She is also attempting to get support from all over Adesia, and she has recently allied herself with Viceroy Mortimer Reed." One of Madeline's eyebrows craned above her green eye. Mortimer Reed? Her friend, the tall, dark-haired Lord she had helped hide from the law some years ago. Upon Alden Brighton's death, he had left for Marcheford and tried for the throne. Serenity Smith had gotten there before him. A smirk curved Madeline's full lips. Somehow, she had doubted Mortimer had given up for all times. She was also certain he intended to dispose of Elinor Brighton, if he had allied herself with her indeed.

"Very interesting, Lord Danter." She cocked her head, her orbs glinting, "I believe, from what I hear, the Baroness deserves the support of Pemberton. Do you agree?"

"Of course, Your Grace." Danter knew nothing of her alleigances with Mortimer. He merely produced another obedient bow, and Madeline dismissed him, haughtily continuing to observe the crowd in the chambers, and the door through which more were to enter.

Another event arranged by the Duchess. Victoria could not complain too much, because she loved a fine party, and a chance to mingle with people. But she did not like how often, and how much money her aunt spent on these things. Victoria felt they could be spent on other matters of the Duchy. She would NEVER voice her opinion to her aunt, or any one that might tell her. Victoria was just the niece. Because her mother had died before any of her other siblings, Victoria had no real rights to the Sherbourne name. All she really was now, was a pawn. She knew it, but hated to admit it. She would not let herself be in that position for long. She would find a way to get herself to a happy place in life, if it meant choosing love over the life her aunt had planned for her.

Victoria wore one of her finer dresses, her multicolored skirts ranged in hue from pastel pink to blood red, as did the roses on her bodice. Her gloves and slippers were scarlet red. She wore her hair softly curled about her shoulders, and down her back. Her green eyes did not show her true personality. She did not want every one to be able to read her like a book, so she kept her feelings hidden, even in her eyes. Her face held a pleasant smile as she entered Madeline's receiving chambers.

Her equally emerald eyes looked up at the three looking at her. She smiled as she looked over her young cousin Josephine. She was going to grow as beautiful as Madeline, it was obvious. She could only hope that the sincerity that was in the young child's eyes would remain untouched. She then looked to Devon. She could feel the same hardness in his eyes as she knew well in his mother. She then looked up at her aunt, hoping that her own mother would not have been like that, had she lived to hold the power all the other Sherbourne siblings now have.

"Your Grace," Victoria curtsied and greeted her aunt formally. Lord, and Lady." She turned smalled curtsies to her young cousins. She slowly came out of her greetings, looking up at her aunt, to see if she had any thing to say. If not, she would go off and mingle with the other courtiers. She had no desire to possibly stir up angered or annoyed feelings in her aunt, at the moment.

Her aunt and uncle had thought it to be a wonderful idea for young sarita to go to this ball. After all she had only been here a year, and still hadn’t gotten out that much. She knew she could see the dissapointment in her aunt rosalyns eyes. The way a person would look at a stray who just wasn’t adapting like they should. After all she was many miles from home, and she knew her father was out there. He told her that day when she left, that she must go without a complaint. A part of her wanted to scream and yell at him, while another understood. She had been caught, she had to leave otherwise if word got out it would ruin the family name. For a young lady to know such harsh things? But tonight was different her aunt ordered her to go. After all she said that she would never become known, if she didn’t interact with others.

So what did she do? She got the maid to dress her appropriately, squeezing the poor girl into a tight corset, and bodice that was her aunts when she was younger. A light black with flowering her aunts mother had embroidered in it herself in a pastel blue. Of course the embroidering, had been updated to fit the fashion now, why wouldn’t it? Giving her small waist a even smaller one, almost making her gasp lightly for air. The dress being swept down in the chest slightly in a square cut, with the fashionable draping sleeves. Her skirt lightly flowing out about her. The coloring a light pastel blue like her bodice design complimenting her rich lunan features. Deep skin toned, not to dark but naturally that way with of course a slightly lighter complexion then most who always were in the sun. Green eyes stared at herself in the mirror as the maid finished on the last of the lacing. Quickly going to her hair, fighting with the naturally wavy strands as she forced them into a braided halo around her head.

This of course took about a hour, and by the time she was finished she was swept off by her aunt and uncle to there carriage. The ride was bumpy, and she couldn’t breath at that sometimes she wondered why women wished to wear such things. Her small hand brushing lightly over the dress as the carriage came to a stop. With the help of the driver her, her aunt and uncle climbed down. Her small fan folded lightly in her hand as she walked. Back straight and held proper like she was taught, when they got inside she blinked at the three sitting at the fore front of the ballroom before freezing for only a moment. Her aunt ushering her forward, she could feel a glare coming from the lady, that almost seemed to resonate every where. Shaking the shiver that ran down her spine she smiled as her aunt and uncle bowed and curtsied to all three. When it was her turn she lowered her head lightly dipping down softly into a curtsy M’ladies… Doing this once more to the youngest girl and turning to the young boy doing the same M’lord she couldn’t hide the lunan accent she had which rolled off her tongue as she spoke. Hoping that they would dismiss her so she could slip off and try to hide abit it was so uncomfortable in a new place at times.

Lady Victoria Carstairs, the daughter of Madeline's eldest sister, was grasped right away by Madeline's eye. The girl did not seem to have tried to do so, though, instead choosing to enter with a rather normal demeanour, and a pleasant smile on her face. Victoria's smile was nothing like Madeline's own; in fact, it reminded her of Esabell more than even of Victoria Sherbourne. Her niece was naive, and the Duchess held nothing in such contempt as naivety when it was present in those on her side, in this case, her family. The endless attempts of all the governesses and the tutors, even Madeline herself to amend that trait did not seem to have come through to Victoria. Nothing seemed to be capable of taking the dreaminess and what she saw as more than just slight childishness from the young woman. Oh, there were means, truly cruel means, but Madeline had decided to save those for her enemies slowly. Now, if Victoria ever dared to turn into one...

Appearance-wise, Victoria possesed quite a few characteristics simillar to her own. The eyes, for example. But everything about her was much softer and a lot more innocent than any of Madeline's features. Her eyes were of a lighter shade of green, and did not shine with that dangerous-looking ferocity, like two cold emeralds. Instead, they were much warmer and softer. Another difference was the hair, which was not as raven as the Duchess'. Yet the resemblance was unmistakeable. Madeline inwardly called Victoria a meeker version of her looks, and a completely different personality from her own. If anyone asked, she did not refrain to say it out loud. Changing Victoria was not exactly on her list of most urgent plans-the girl held little importance, so her behaving within the boundaries of proper was enough, solely to preserve the honor and the dignity of the Sherbourne name.

If nothing, her niece had a sense of style. Madeline had always glared with disdain at Esabell's plain dressing style and the fact she had never paid much attention to that particular, very important aspect of a Duchess' and a Lady's life. Victoria's attire was always fashionable, together with her hairstyle and her posture.

There had been a time when thinking of her dead sister would have brought Madeline at least a twinge of pain and remorse. When she would have cared(if not openly showed that caring, for she had always been good at hiding what she felt in such situations) for anyone in the family who had died so recently, or even a long time ago. Yet at the moment given, all she felt at Esabell's name spawning in her brain was faint rememberance. Before, when she had been younger, Madeline had been close with both of her elder sisters, and her younger brother Mathias. As far as similarities had gone, it had always been Victoria and Esabell, Madeline and Mathias. Oh, yes, had any of them died ten, eight, five years ago, she would have mourned them, members of the Sherbourne family.

But that family had betrayed her. No matter what people said, that family had given her reason to only hold some respect and value for the name, not for the people behind it. Esabell might have been considered a 'good and a caring sister', but what she had done when Evan had been lined up for execution, together with their own mother? What had the honest and open Victoria done? They had all kept the fact the thought Mathias had made a mistake, that he should not have executed Katherine(they had not cared too much for Evan) to themselves, obediently bowing to their younger brother. The only one that had dared protest, dared stand up to the Duke, dared beg for the life of her husband, had been Madeline. All the rest of them had done had been turning their backs on her and standing by tamely, wathcing her being made a widow and her children orphans.

Objectively, it could not have been held against them. The punishment for treason was well-know, as it had been since the most ancient of times. Perhaps Madeline should have been glad she had escaped the same fate, because the fact Evan had been her husband and that she had, even as a child, been the favorite of their Uncle Edward did not do much for her defence. But all emotions of love she had had for her siblings had gone away that day. Mathias had even taken away her name, the name of her husband which she would have gladly kept, with pride. He had dared treat her as if she were not a widow, dared invite her to balls and parties and entice her to wear red! Her sisters had, as usual, been too timid to take her side. Indeed, she and her brother had been the only Sherbournes without that despicable trait in this generation. Luckily, Devon and Josephine had inherited that, especially Devon. Josephine did show tendencies towards turning Esabell-like, but unlike Victoria, she had been with Madeline since her birth. Her nature could be easily modified.

"Victoria." She returned the greeting directed to her with less coldness than usual. Rare had, she mused, ever heard her voice sound warm. Perhaps Stephen Carstairs has told his daughter of the way her Aunt had been before? As stupidly in love as to refuse a Baron for a mere Lord? She hoped not. Not that it was a decision she had ever regretted, but if her niece was to follow in her footsteps in that manner...well, it was sufficent to say she would never allow it. Before Madeline could have said anything else, her daughter Josephine's happy voice interrupted her, "Victoria, is that a new dress you have?"

That sort of impulsive enthusiasm was what Madeline was intent on weaking in Josephine. In fact, she often reprimanded her younger child upon such outbursts, for her own good. Even now, she sent a warning gaze at her, causing Josephine to stiffen suddenly and draw back(she had taken a step foward, as if to touch the fabric of the dress). However, she said not a word, considering it extremely below her to reprimand her precious children in public. It was what showed she saw them in a different light than anyone else. Had Victoria done something improper, she would not have hesitated to scold her. Her reprimands sent towards her children were never too strict, either. Even now, she felt slight regret that Josephine's face had taken on a guilty look. She had also felt an emotion quite distant from her, endearment, at the happiness in the little girl's voice. This time, Devon took on her role, though, looking at his sister abruptly; "Josephine, control yourself."

Madeline smiled softly, because of Josephine's behavior and because of the way Devon had recated to it. She felt another surge of pride for her son. She also found she could not feel disappointment for Josephine, in spite of all. If there were any human beings that currently had access to her heart, those were her children. Children she had spoiled nedlessly, yet taught how they should act if they wished to survive the intrigues of the daily life at court.

"Indeed, you have taken care of your appearance, niece. Are you, perhaps, hoping to find yourself a husband? Or merely engage in courtly love?" Her words were also a warning, not merely a simple remark. Victoria had to be aware of the fact she was going to be married off soon. To a man of astounding influence, of course, for Madeline would satisfy for no less. As she had said, she valued the Sherbourne name, and the people behind and their personal needs were to be sacrificed for its glory and the glory of Pemberton. No Sherbourne would be allowed to marry below their status.

Another greeting came from the Lord and the Lady Iglesisas, Rosalyn and Marcus, who had entered the room shortly after Victoria. Nodding to them curtly, Madeline noticed another woman was with them, a young woman that could not have been much older than twenty, perhaps even younger. The Duchess watched her with an eyebrow raised-she was evidently new to the court, and judging by her accent, she could not have been out of Luna for a long time. A visiting member of the family, perhaps? She did not look as if without manners, and was quite evidently a Lady, or they would not have brought her here at all.

"Would this be a relative of yours, Lord Iglesias?" She directed her question towards the had of the Iglesias family.

It had been a while since Isaac had really gotten the chance to see the now Duchess Madeline. The last time he had spent any "quality" time with her was long ago when they travelled through the country side. If it wasn't for the bandits he protected her against, it would've been a pleasant trip. After all that, the duchy went under a big political make over time and time again. Madeline, naturally, was caught up in all the affairs and now was busier than ever. Come to think of it, Isaac barely saw any of the Sherbournes. His thoughts came across Esabell and her untimely death. Signing, he washed his face with the water basin placed before him. He couldn't put on a sad face just before a social event

Ever since Madeline became duchess, parties and balls and all other sorts of gatherings occur. Isaac had grown accustom to all of the social shuffle of Pemberton, but he was starting to feel overwhelmed. On the plus side, he had grown more and more skilled at getting himself prepared. For the day's event, he decided to wear his violet doublet and white tights with his boots. His face had been closely shaven and his hair was combed back. After drying his face, he carefully tucked his hair under his wide brimmed feather hat. Picking up a bottle of cologne, he dabbed the minty smelling liquid upon his collar bone. After putting his things away, he took one last glance at the looking glass and smoothed out his shirt.

The travel to the duchess' chambers was surprising quick, as he arrived to the room full of fellow courtiers. Perhaps he was just grown familiar with the manor. Nevertheless, he straighten himself up like a proper knight would and stepped into the chambers. He took a few glances around to see if he spotted anyone familiar (his heart had hoped that he would see Leana darting to and fro) and he saw the face of Victoria, Madeline's niece. She was dressed in the finest colors of her duchy, but didn't look too excited to be there. He would speak to her soon enough; he first needed to greet his duchess.

Stepping before Madeline, he pulled the cap from his head and tucked it under him as he bowed. "Your Grace," he greeted. He then turned to the children by her side. "M'lord, m'lady," he said, respectfully bowing to each one of them. He waited to be spoken to, as he had been taught. His loyal was strongly tied with the Sherbourne family, which was part of the reason why he didn't question the whereabouts of Duke Edmund.

Victoria looked up at Madeline, wondering to herself how much her own mother would have looked like the Sherbourne woman before her. Her father, Stephen Carstairs, had told her to take the best features from Esabell and Madeline and combine them together. In her mind's eye Victoria could see her mother as she should be, smiling down at her, the Duchess of Pemberton. She let out a soft sigh, knowing that her mother would have never thought that her brother would have died so soon. Leaving Esabell, and now Madeline, to rule in his stead. It would have been Victoria sitting at her mother's side up there tonight, had Victoria Sherbourne not died over 15 years ago.

However, now was not the time to dwell on what might have been, or on the memory of the oldest of the Sherbourne siblings. No, now was time for the eldest grandchild, the begining of the next generation, to step forward and shine. She was the age her mother had been when she left this world, leaving only the memory of that dazzling smile. She was determined to light the room with her own smile, the one that looked much like her mother, but enough like her father as well. She would not let herself fade as merely the niece of the duchess, she wanted people to know that she had been here, to feel that she mattered. She refused to think that she was only a pawn.

Victoria's smile brightened when she heard her aunt's greeting. It warmed her heart to think that maybe she might get a glimps of the Madeline her father had told her about. The Madeline in the story had found true love. She refused her family's wishes to marry a rich Baron, to marry the lesser lord, that she loved. It was like a story right out of a book. Victoria found it only second to the one of her parents, finding love high enough in the ranks for their parents not to try to push for any one else. Victoria hoped to one day find a love that was worth telling in a story.

Her thoughts were disrupted by the cheerful voice of her young cousin. "You have a marvelous eye there, Lady Josephine, my dear cousin. This is indeed a new dress." Victoria had always been fond of the young child, always reminded of how the world should be looked at, through a child's eyes. "I am sure that if you like it enough, that your mother will be sure to have one made for you in a similar fashion." She winked at the young girl. She had seen how Josephine had drawn back, and she knew it was from her mother's look, and now her brother's words. Victoria hoped that her words might put at least a little of that smile back on the child's face.

Returning her attention to her aunt, Victoria let her smile fade a bit. "I will find a husband in good time, my dear aunt. You mus'nt worry so." Victoria was a bit worried herself. She knew that if she did not find love in a man that her aunt and/or uncle did not approve of, soon, she would be forced to marry some one of their chosing. Madeline would want it to be for money, and Edmund would want military support from any union. This all made Victoria nervous. At the moment, she was the only pawn that they could use the most to their advantage.

Victoria stepped aside as a few more courtiers came to greet her aunt. She hoped she could slip away with out much more conversation about marriage. Her green eyes paused a moment, as she looked over the Lady that had come in. Her accent was so lovely. Victoria could tell, also from her looks, she must be from Luna. Stephen, her father, had spoken so fondly of the land; and Victoria had always wanted to travel there. Victoria knew that she must talk with this girl, if she would be staying in Pemberton.

Then her eyes rested on Sir Isaac. Victoria smiled, knowing he was a loyal family friend. She nodded her head in greeting, hoping she would get a chance to talk with him later. She barely knew any thing more about him. There was time to change that. Why not tonight? It was as good as any other. Perhaps finding small talk with him would keep her mind off of her mother, and off of how her aunt wanted to marry her off to the man with the most money and power she could find.

She hadn't wanted to attend the ball. It was a grand affair, to be sure, certain to be filled with dancing and all that was court life, but Hala, slightly withdrawn at times, was afraid of the typical things a foreign Lady fears - would her accent be awkward, hard to understand? Were her clothes correct, made in the typical style? Would she be snubbed or ignored? Would she do something wrong or offensive? Emma and Richard both assured Hala that, despite her exotic name and slight accent, she was a Pemberton in looks and breeding; though they often stumbled when she mentioned that her 'breeding' also included Remaliah.

Still, a Lady was expected to attend such things. Hala had yet to meet the woman behind the afternoons entertainment - the Duchess - but grave warnings had come from her striking sister, and before they even left their home Hala was given dozens of instructions on how to behave around Duchess Madeline. She did her best to remember it all too, as it had been said that the Duchess was not a forgiving woman. Entering now, Hala would not allow herself to hide behind her social sister and her eagerly friendly husband. Lord and Lady Gavell were very low on the scale of importance, but were known for their kindness - no one knew about their kind hearts more than Hala herself, as they had taken her in without a moment's notice, never questioning her desire to leave Remaliah.

On this afternoon Hala had dressed carefully, dismayed when Emma and Richard were both in pale shades of pink, informing her that it was a sign of nobility. Her only gowns were a lovely cream brocaded dress and a slightly fancier, pale green satin one. She chose the satin, knowing that it brought out her eyes and golden hair. With its tightly cut bodice and sweeping skirt, coupled with tiny glass beads and flower embroidered on the bodice, it was indeed the better of her two dresses, even if it was the wrong color for Pemberton. Her hair was worn loose, the curls falling neatly about her face, and the style favored her greatly. Hala would never instantly strike one as a rare beauty, but was nevertheless captivating in her own way.

Immediately, Emma moved towards the Duchess, led by Richard and followed by the nervous Hala. Duchess Madeline was a beautiful woman, and clearly many of the rumors were true - everything was flawless, from the refreshments to the children beside the Duchess, no detail seemed overlooked. It made Hala want to hide more than ever, but she refrained, instead giving a respectful curtsey together with her sister. "Your Grace." Her voice was soft, hardly audible. She was so nervous about her accent that Hala was surprised she was able to speak at all. "My Lady," Addressing the girl now, before turning to the young boy beside the Duchess. "My Lord."

She fell quiet as Richard smiled, feeling as though they had walked into the middle of a conversation. There was a very regal Lunan woman, a man in a violet doublet, and a lovely young woman in various shades of red - clearly, a high ranking lady. Yet Emma and Richard both remained in place, as if by walking away they would have commited some unforgivable act. Trusting their judgement, Hala's eyes fell to the floor demurely as she prayed that she would not make a mistake.

At the prospect of getting her hands onto a new dress just like Victoria's, Josephine's eyes glowed and her smile returned almost instantly. Even if her child did happen(God forbid!) to display more of Esabell-ish characteristics, at least she was never gojng to suffer from that horrible lack of style. Already, she evidently knew how to recognize approving outfits. The girl's eyes climbed pleadingly to Madeline's, and the Duchess once again ascertained what she had known before-Josephine would get ten of such dresses, or even more fascinating ones, if she only said she wanted them. Refusing her such a wish would have been more heartless in Madeline's eyes than mass murder. Indeed, her heart seemed to have only remained intact on the matters concerning Devon and Josephine.

"I shall arrange for the finest tailors to pay a visit to Roseworth tomorrow, Josephine. You can, then, order any dresses you might desire." Her face lighting up, Josephine exclaimed an earnest 'Thank You', turning back around and scannning the rest of the chambers with her eyes. No doubt, she had embraked upon a search for the sorts of attires she would soon be able to wear. Unlike the Duchess herself, Josephine had always been fond of lighter colors, such as pink or pastel blue. Madeline had clothing made of such materials as well, but she most certainly preferred deep red and emerald to them. This aspect also reminded her of the softer part of the Sherbourne family, but she was certainly not about to forbid her daughter to wear the kinds of dresses she so much adored.

Victoria said she would find a husband in good time. Madeline smirked an ironical smile, fanning herself lazily once more. In her age, she had already been promised to the Baron from Bellezza. Baron Tiziano de Rossi, that had been his name. Her mother had introduced her to him, and only after they first met informed Madeline of the plans she had schemed with him, concerning her. Naturally, she had gone crazy with fury, refusing outrightly to ever become Madeline de Rossi. It did have a nice ring to it, now that she recalled...Anyway, the Baron had been disgusting. In spite of that, her mother had been right. Back then, it certainly had not appeared so to her, but Katherine had picked a man of extremely high position and power for her daughter. Yes, in the end Madeline had become the Duchess of Pemberton, which maybe would not have been the case had she gone off to Bellezza, but that could just as easily not have happened. Madeline had been stupid to refuse him, objectively, yet she was very proud of that fact. Her refusal had gotten her Evan, Devon, Josephine, a lot of pain and suffering, but she regretted it not for a moment.

Had a rich man of higher standing than hers and with more property than her own offered her marriage now, she would've gladly agreed. As she had agreed to marry Edmund. Love had been lost to her for a long time. It had no indication of returning, ever again. Besides, if she had been taught anything by the Sherbournes, it was that love only brought downfall. What worked here was cruelty, no emotions and betrayal. Evidently, it had served her well. So, just as Katherine had wished to marry her off to de Rossi, she would now go through with marrying off Victoria to the highest bidder.

"Worrying, Victoria? Not at all. I am certain that you will find yourself a husband of high standing, proper ties and affluence." The statement carried a hidden message for her niece to understand. She had to find a man with those qualities, or Madeline would not allow her to marry him. Or, rather, if she was uncapable of finding such a man on her own, Madeline would find one for her. No other possibilites even came into consideration.

The Duchess was distracted from her niece by a man she noticed eneter behind her back. A satisfied, seductive grin danced on her full lips as she recognized him. Sir Isaac Clerval. A memory spawned in her mind at the sight of him, a memory of herself going riding and being attacked by a band of highwaymen. God knew what they would have tried to do to her(Madeline was secure she could've gotten away from them on her own, even though it was clearly her deluding herself), had he not come along and fought them off valiantly. Then, he had accompanied her, and they rode together, until a messenger came, informing them of Mathias' death. That detail did nothing to make her memories of Sir Isaac any less pleasant, just as the memories of the time spent with him.

"Sir Isaac." Madeline batted her eyelashes at him in her cold, slow, seducing way, "It has been a long time since I have last seen you." True-Madeline had been rather busy lately, and she had not come upon Sir Clerval on any of the balls she had been attending. Most likely because she had been taken up in dancing with all the important Dukes, Barons and such, "If I recall correctly, our last encounter had occurred when you had so corageously aided me when I was surrounded by bandits." A few of the courtiers nearby turned towards Sir Isaac with interest-such news were always fun at court. Sir Isaac, Madeline noted, was also extremely loyal to the Sherbourne's. A quality she could not have admired more. And that was expected.

Lord Richard and Lady Emma Gavell were the next to come greet her. Madeline noticed the young lady with them, whom she recognized to be Lady Hala bint Nasr. The Duchess had never met her, but she had heard a lot of gossip about her. Mostly that she was the perfect Pemberton Lady(bah-Madeline hardly believed anyone to be more perfect than herself), in spite of the scandalous ways of her mother, Lady Susannah. Madeline had also heard a lot about Lady Susannah, the wild lady who had run off to Remaliah and had a child-Hala-with one of the natives there. It had occurred when she had been a mere child, and the story had fascinated her back then. Now, she looked upon it as foolish, just as the case was with anything of that nautre. Back then, she remembered with sarcasm, she had often endorsed in fantasies about herself running away with a tall, dark stranger.

Hala was no great beauty, as her mother had been, but she was a handsome lady. Greeting coldly Richard and Emma, her eyes trailed over to her.

"You would be Lady Susannah's daughter, would you not?" She asked, her voice flat and expressing little interest. A corner of her eye still remained on Sir Isaac, the most interesting of those surrounding her currently.

Then, Josephine turned towards her, and said in a tone supposed to be barely audible(yet heard by all, for it was that kind of a loud whisper), "Mother...could we offer them all to sit down?" Raising her eyebrow, Madeline chuckled, together with a few other courtiers. Personally, she had no problem at all with people standing in her presence while she sat imperiously on her chair. It was common knowledge to her that they should show her respect and that she was worthier than them. It was the kind of treatment she was used to. Josephine's comment, though, except for making her laugh, also made her fulfill the desire of her child.

"Yes, Josephine." Madeline said amusedly, motioning with her head at the empty seats nearby. There were plenty of sofas, each capable of holding three persons, and a couple of red armchairs, "If any of you desire to sit down, do accept my daughter's offer."

It made her nervous to be in the presence of such a lady of high ranking power. she knew that, with the appearance and air that the lady gave off would have been even intimidating to her own mother. Something young sarita was never good with, but always was able to act and pretend that she was. Trying her best to keep that ladies appearance on her face. Stepping back beside her aunt and uncle, her hands gently folded infront of her. Glancing slightly towards her aunt, she caught the smile that was flashed her direction like she had done the right thing. It wasn't till everyone started to enter, that she started to become even more and more nervous. The way that they all seemed to crowd around the duchess and her children.


Smiling to the others who looked over her way after making there presence known she took a deep breath. She really knew she had to get out more, to meet more people. It wasn't till her uncle had been spoken to that he bowed his head speaking placing his hand on sarita's shoulder. This is my brothers daughter, and my neice lady sarita her mother died so she was sent to live with us here... Somehow he knew the woman could care less, well then again he didn't know because after all a foriegner would be in there lands he didn't know how she would react to that. Her aunt taking sarita and moving her slightly to the side. One could tell even her aunt was slightly intimidated by the overall appearance of the duchess.

Her aunt may not have, had children before but she sure could act like a mother that was all. The way she wanted to get sarita, out of the glare of the woman. Once more as her uncle spoke it made her feel like she was a lost puppy dog, that they just was forced to take in.

Emma's lessons, warnings, and advice all swirled throughout Hala's mind. No one quite understood why Hala worked so very hard at being the 'perfect' Pemberton Lady, and in effect the very opposite of her outspoken, daring mother. Often, Hala didn't understand it either. Yet she continued to strive for perfection, to always be the most behaved, in fashionable dresses (Seeing all of the various shades of red and pink around her, Hala's cheeks wanted to burn), who was seen by all to be a respectable woman. It was her only goal, which was in itself a sad thing, though the girl tried not to dwell on that. Even when Madeline immediately pointed out the obvious, her mother, she tried very hard to pretend she was just like every other Lady here - normal, without a wild mother shadowing her every step.

A brief reprieve came when the Lunan was brought back to the center of attention, and Hala dearly wanted to sprint for one of the sofas, if only to give her an excuse to run from the green-eyed Duchess and her sharp memory. But again, Emma and Richard seemed in no hurry, they both smiled good-naturedly at Hala, encouraging her to speak. Licking her lips nervously, Hala finally answered. "Yes, Lady Susannah Lyon-Clark is my mother." She could only hope that Madeline continued to show little interest in her; if any of the gossip was right, she'd be dismissed shortly. Of course, that would mean Richard and Emma would need to let her blend into the background... yet, of course, why should they? Everywhere else Hala went she was friendly and high-spirited, always up for conversation. Her stomach, choked with butterflies, was invisible to the well-meaning couple.

"Hard to believe she's such a tame lass; when I recieved her first letter, I was concerned she'd be some wild native." This from Richard, his brown eyes trying not to focus on Madeline too much, and nearly failing. He was a simple man, and the Duchess held his attention like a shiny chain holds a Magpie. "Yet, here she is, everything expected of a Lady - though I question perfection in any one but you, Your Grace." Flattery was common from courtiers, and while Richard was often quite obvious in his attempts, the sincere meaning was there behind them. He didn't seem to notice that Hala flinched when he mentioned the chance of her being a 'wild native' - in truth, when she'd arrived she'd been very different from the typical Ladies in Pemberton. From her clothes to the way she wore her hair, nothing about Hala had been 'right' for this place. But within a week she'd drastically changed into the Lady she was now, with no trace of kohl on her eyes, trying not to pull the Lunan woman into conversation, even if they both appeared to be on the outskirts of things here.

Quite a crowd had gathered around Madeline, but it didn't surprise Isaac at all. His duchess was an influential woman, demanding respect from those around her. In all honesty, she intimidated Isaac, not just because she was duchess. No, it was something about her, about her mannerisms, about the way she held herself. Nevertheless, he dared not to cross Madeline in the slightest of ways. She was a Sherbourne, part of the family that took him in, raised his commoner self and bred him into the knight he was today. He would never let himself forget that, and he doubted that anyone else would either.

As Madeline spoke of his fight against a band of thieves, he felt the eyes of other courtiers upon him. Inwardly, he felt flattered that she would mention him in that sort of light. He took pride in his title as a knight and was determined never to become anything less. "I was only fulfilling my duty to you as a knight, your grace," he replied honestly. "Your good health is all I could ever wish for." That day had been a dark day for the Sherbournes and he was glad that he was able to prevent another tragedy from occurring.

He stood patiently as Madeline addressed the other visitors. There were two very new, very different faces in the crowd. Foreigners, he believed. As the conversations carried on, it seemed more and more evident that they were part of the Pemberton court. His attention was quickly pulled away by the words of Madeline's young daughter.

He couldn't help but smile at her kind gesture. Madeline, of course, looked delighted at her child's simple suggestion. Isaac waited for the other ladies to sit first, still standing with his hat in his hands. Of course, he planned on sitting in one of the arm chairs. He didn't want to seem rude and seat himself next to a lady that was not his wife. He was knight after all.

"What a thoughtful young lady," he remarked, smiling at Josephine.

The Lunan woman, Lady Sarita, did not interest Madeline much. There seemed to be no captivating story behind her arrival here-just sent to live with Adesian relatives. Plenty of women had done so, even though some for different reasons. Her husband's mistress, Lady Catalina Velazquez, came to her mind right away. She, the Duchess thought triumphantly, had not dared appear here, in her chambers. Neither had Edmund. Edmund knew he would not be welcomed after their argument at the ball, but in Catalina's place, Madeline would have most certainly come to annoy her rival. The Duchess was glad that Catalina had been afraid or not bold enough to make such a move. Not that the mistress' arrival would have evoked any emotion within Madeline. She could not have cared less for her husband. In fact, if the two of them where somewhere together right now, with those bastard children of theirs(she could not have cared less about those, too, since they carried no Sherbourne blood, only the filthy Duncan and some Lunan). Madeline only liked basking in yet another proof of her power.

The daughter of Susannah Clark(originally Lyon) was far more entertaining. At least, her history was. Madeline held it would have been fun to hear about how the lady's mother had lived in Remaliah, or rather, how she lived there still, with that lover of hers, whose name was obviously Nasr. Of course, such talks might have proved embarassing for Hala, the 'perfect' lady(indeed, now that she gave it better thought, the Duchess considered that kind of 'perfection' extremely annoying) but Madeline hardly paid any attention to that tiny detail. It did not matter at all what others thought of any course of events, as long as the latter suited her. She had little consideration of others. Little if none whatsoever. Right now, Madeline wished to hear of Remaliah.

That was interrupted by words from Lord Richard Gavell. Madeline noticed his eyes were glued to her, and smirked her usual seductive beam. Yes, she was used to being regared in this manner, but it always felt pleasant-and why not enjoy things that felt good? Waving her fan, she listened to him explain how surprised he had been when Hala had not turned out a wild native(really, he had a point there-Remalians were told to be passionate, not timid and polite). Madeline heard his comment about her own perfection, but did not display any sign of it. Another thing that felt good was letting people wonder what on Earth had passed through her mind, behind those emerald eyes.

"You would not mind informing us of how Lady Susannah is spending her days in Remaliah, Lady Hala? Or entertain us with a description of your homeland?" She directed the question coolly at Hala, wondering what her reaction was going to be. Even though her words had what would be called a questioning form, it was obvious by her tone that she was not going to take no for an answer. Then again, who would have dared deny her request, anyway?

None of Madeline's attention had ever left Sir Isaac, whom she inwardly bestowed the title of the handsomest man surrounding her at the time being. He settled himself into an armchair, not wishing to offend any more demure lady that would have minded him sitting next to her, directing a smile at Josephine. Josephine blushed at this, not able to take compliments as matter-of-factly as her mother. That would be amended soon, once she got more used to them. And she was going to. While she waited for Hala to answer, she turned towards the Knight, gifting him with a smile more brilliant than that Lord Gavell had received; "Sir Isaac, you have not told me how have you been? Have you managed to charm any ladies lately? That should not have represented much of a challenge to you, since they are all standing in lines to be swept off their feet by you, I am certain." Only the most deserving(in her opinion, of course) got complimented by the Duchess Madeline.

Had she been a mind reader, Hala might have fled the room. It wasn't that she was denying Remaliah, precisely, it was more denying her mother and the choices Susannah had made for them all well before Hala's birth. Richard proved to be little distraction, the simple talk of court life easy for him, and Emma was no better. Perhaps if she'd been like her mother, passionate and sincere in her beliefs, they would have thought differently of her. But in truth Hala had never been that girl. Even before she'd learned of the many lies told to her, discovered why she was seen as so strange by her peers in Remaliah, Hala had been quiet. It was easy to be silent, after all, when one spends so much time hiding behind a shimmering beacon of a mother.

When Madeline asked of her mother, saying the name that for some reason left Hala angry at the world, the blonde was silent. Even when the Duchess turned to the man in violet - Sir Isaac - she remained with her eyes demurely down, her hands clasped nervously before her. Just thinking about her homeland, the slow, rolling sand dunes, the mystery of the pyramids, the romance of it all... it made the young teen feel very world-weary; for what seemed like a million times now, she again questioned her purpose here. Why had she run away from home? Why was she striving so hard to be like her half-sisters, normal ladies who recieved no notice from most, who lived invisible lives? She just didn't know, but kept all such thoughts firmly off of her face. She would endure this, speaking of her Remaliah, and when it was over with she would smile and dance as expected. She could do this.

"My mother is well, Your Grace," Her faint tone had steadied now, and was richer, warmer somehow. It was obvious that Hala was still very nervous, but was not letting it deter her. "She has taken to painting the many marvels Remaliah holds, and along with my father they are traveling to Cairo." She paused, raising her eyes from the floor. Silly to think that moments before this had scared her, speaking of her birthplace. Instead it seemed to fight off her fears and to drain away the nervous energy that had her all but fainting this morning. "As for my homeland, there is so much to speak of. There, the ground is made of rolling sand hills, stretching endlessly across the land in a wild desert. Even at an Oasis, there is sand all around - and the trees are very different from here."

"What I love most of all are the pyramids. They tower over many cities in Ramaliah, and serve as burial chambers to great kings and queens. There are also many sculptures, built by hundreds of servants, toiling away under the hot sun. To watch them is very humbling, in a way. The Remalic way of life and dress is also very different from Adesia. At parties like these, servants often put cones of perfumed grease on the heads of guests, and as it melts it has a pleasant cooling effect - keeping the skin from drying out, and indeed staying cool, is very difficult at times. And men, women, and children of all clases line their eyes in Kohl, while using red ochre on the lips and henna to dye their fingernails."

There was color in her cheeks now, and her eyes were almost dancing. As her voice picked up a steady rhythm, the small, shy side of Hala seemed to vanish. She had gone quiet now, feeling that she was indeed overpowering the conversation and making a spectacle of herself. She wanted to go on about wigs and amulets, about watching those in the poor districts beating copper into bangles. Her own ears still were marred with the holes for her earrings, and she found it odd that so few people here put more time into their appearance. Even the poor in Remaliah dressed well, whether it was in a coarse linen kilt and long robe or a simple kalasiris. And the adobe homes, with their mud bricks, how Halal wanted to explain how they were made - the time and effort put into each and every one. So many things to say, yet Hala kept her voice in check. No need to gush every little detail, after all.

Antoinette was pacing. And not just little pacing, where you lean from one foot to the other, indecisive.
She was full on pacing, one side of the room to the other. Her skirts were swirling around her ankles, her hands locked behind her slim back. Blonde curls bouncing with each step. Her blue eyes were fixed unwaveringly upon the rolling carpet beneath her moving slippers. Suddenly, mid-rotation, she stopped, facing the closed door in front of her. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
Two maids and a manservant were flattened against the walls in the chamber. All had been watching Antoinette's passage from left to right cautiously. Once, the manservant had attempted to open the door for her, and Antoinette had turned on him with such ferocity that the third maid had fled the room.
Now, a full ten minutes later, Antoinette stood, staring at the same door the poor man had tried to open. Her fingers twitched. Ought she to enter?
As Baroness, Antoinette was supposed to attend these sorts of things. The Duchess throws a party, you go. You talk. You laugh over things that aren't funny.
That was what you did.
But this was different. So very, very different. For one thing, Antoinette had never met this Duchess. She was new, she was terrifying. She had a reputation for bringing one's sanity down around one's ears. Antoinette personally thought her sanity was fragile enough as it was withotu anyone going at it with a rapier.
And that was without even considering the fact that the Duke might be in there. Antoinette's eyes flashed at the thought. They hadn't spoken since he had bestowed her with her title. Hadn't even crossed grazes across a room.
Good riddance. Wasn't it? Everything Antoinette thought she had stuck a pin in her feelings for Edmund, they squirmed away again. She wanted, nay, needed to blame him for this past year.
Yet every time she tried, he escaped.
Damn him.
So here she stood, contemplating a door that led either to her doom, shame, or insanity.
Or, she added with bitter amusement, all three.
Suddenly, Antoinette checked herself. This was not acceptable. She was no ninny, to cower at the sight of a difficult piece of embroidery. No, she was Lady Antoinette Rouge.
Nay, she was Baroness Antoinette Rouge.
And let no one forget it. Antoinette shot another glare at the manservant, and beckoned him over. Slowly, he detached himself from the molding and inched over.
"My lady?" He said, watching her carefully. "Are you....."he gulped, "ready?"
Antoinette nodded, throwing her head back so that her curls bounced and danced in the light. "Quite." She said smoothly, as though she had not just spent the last ten minutes prowling this very chamber.
With another scared gulp, the man opened the door, calling out as he did so:
"Baroness Antoinette Rouge."
Antoinette swept forward, her gaze darting around the room. Instantly, she spotted the new Duchess. To her relief, no Edmund stood at her side.
"Your Grace." Antoinette murmured, sweeping a deep curtsy. "Thank you for inviting me here today. Tis' an honor."

Victoria was happy she was the one to put that smile back on Josephine's face. And, she could not help but giggle a little as the child looked up at Madeline, her eye's begging her. Victoria already knew her aunt would give in, as her children were most important to her. Even if they were not, however, who could say no to that face?!

Madeline's final response added to the child's happy face, and Victoria admired this. She was happy the girl would get to know the warmth of a mother who puts you above the world. Victoria knew that her and her cousins were opposite in this. Victoria had grown up without her mother, raised by her father, while Devon and Josephine had Madeline, and their father was gone. Victoria's heart broke for them, knowing they were without a father, but Victoria also knew that if Madeline gave Edmund the chance, he would try to fill that void in their lives. Though, that would never happen. Madeline and Edmund's relationship was purely one of keeping and raising titles.

The topic of marriage sent shiver after shiver up Victoria's spine. Victoria understood completely what her aunt meant. If she did not find a man of high standing, proper ties, and affluence that she could love, she would be given no choice in the matter, and be forced into a marriage she did not want. "I will do the best I can to do so." Victoria hated this idea. It was not at all appealing to her. She did not care to marry into power, all she wanted was a man who cares about her, for her, not her standing, and the way she looks. There was no doubt, even if the words made Victoria blush, but she would make any man look better, just by being on his arm.

Victoria found her mind drifting over the kind of man she wanted, ignoring what her aunt demanded of him. Some one who would actually listen to the ramblings of a woman, a kinda heart not only towards her, but any one, and some one who loved her, for being herself. She did not know why her mind kept drifting back to some one with everything she told herself she wanted. Adrian. Yes, he fit all of those. He, however, only loved her as a friend, so that idea was out. He was going through a rough time, as it was. With people having thought he was dead, and then Serenity taking control of Marcheford, and refusing to take him back. Victoria was happy enough just to listen to him when he needed a friend, and then to watch that smile come back to his face. To know he was happy was all that she needed.

Wow, how did her mind get so off track? Victoria shook her head and cleared her thoughts, just in time to hear her young cousin offer every one in the room to sit. It amazed Victoria that her aunt let the offer stand. Victoria smiled up at Josephine, a truly pure heart lay in that child, and all she could do was hope the girl would always stay that way. Victoria scanned the room for a chair in a place she could see every one, almost as well as her aunt's place. Finding one that would suit her well enough she took a seat. She payed little attention to her aunt's many guests, for most were woman, and had Madeline not just finished telling her that she needed to find a husband? At the moment the only man in the room was Sir Isaac, whom Victoria flashed another smile. She would just have to wait until more people showed their faces at this event.

Again, he was amused by young Josephine, seeing that she was unable to properly accept a compliment. Isaac was half expecting her to take it smoothly, just as her mother would. No matter, she was still young and under the guidance of Madeline, all will change. Still, he was slightly humbled by her actions, seeing the innocence in a lady that he hadn't seen in such a long time. Well, there was one certain young miss that was constantly in the fore front of his mind that had such qualities. Fortunately for him, she wasn't around that day. He didn't want to risk giving that kind of information away in front of his duchess.

He waited for his turn to speak, as one of the foreign women started to describe what it was like back at her homeland. The knight found himself fascinated by her words, as he could only picture the things she once saw. It was no wonder why his duchess pressed on about Remaliah. As much as he wanted her to go on, the lady stopped and allowed Isaac to take his turn. He flashed a curious smile toward her before speaking to his duchess.

"All has been well, your grace," he started. Again, he felt honored that she would actually compliment him. His Pemberton pride began to swell as he continued. "Ah, you think of me in too high of a regard, your grace. Yes, I have been able to...charm the ladies, as your grace has kindly put it." He stopped there, but he knew what that question was leading to. Had he found a lady yet? Officially, he had not. He was still very much a bachelor. His heart, however, had long ago left him and was being held captive by a commoner. Not that he minded, of course. Still, he decided to continue the conversation for conversations's sake.

"But I have yet to find a lady of my own," he quickly added. An announcement by the door pulled his attention away as one Baroness Antoinette Rouge was approaching. He had heard of this woman before, but had never met her in person. He fell silent and allowed the baroness to speak with the duchess. In the mean time, he stole a glance at Victoria and gave her a quick nod, letting her know that he didn't forget about her.

"I wish you luck on that matter, Sir Isaac, even though I hardly believe you are going to need much." Madeline's mind, somewhere in its back, did connect the fact Victoria was searching for a husband with the fact Isaac was looking for a wife. However, it never reached the part where all the important thoughts dwelled. Sir Isaac may have been handsome, he may have had a way with words and he may have been enjoyable to flirt with, but all he was was a Knight. As noble and as glorified his profession was, it brought not any enormous income or any larger land, nor the title and the prestige she wished for her nice. Lady Victoria Carstairs marrying a Knight serving her family-no, that would have been out of question. It would have been a waste of her good looks, which she believed were fine enough to allow her access to a Duke or a Count.

A most interesting thought she had had had been connecting Prince Benoit and Victoria. However, after meeting His Majesty, Madeline left with a distinct impression he would not have liked her. Benoit was a frivolous young man, enjoying parties and balls like her niece...but, he was one for bolder, more fiery, more adventurous things than Victoria could have ever offered him. The Duchess knew better than to try and cast the girl, with her skills highly unpolished, into the whirldwind of charades she would need to keep up with in order to win the heart of Benoit. Frankly, Victoria would have most likely screwed it all up. Not been good at it, to use a more polite expression. Madeline and Pemberton both had far better chances at an alliance with the Prince without Lady Carstairs.

Lady bint Nasr's tale of Remaliah was very much amusing to Madeline. The thought of using red ochre on her lips was quite appealing to her, who had always enjoyed enhancing her appearance in every way possible, leaving people breathless. The further it went, the better it felt. The grease on her hair did not sound as pleasant, but the cooling effect and the care such things gave to her skin made it feel as something she would have most certainly enjoyed trying. Her hair would have appeared extremely shiny with the grease, and washing it off later would have been easy. One thing she had not heard Lady Hala mentioned had been the men there-something Madeline would have gladly listened to for a long time. But of course, Hala was proper. Susannah would have most certainly paid more attention to Lords(were they called Lords there?) in Remaliah.

But for a few moments there, the shy and the demure side of Hala seemed to have moved away, uncovering a person with far more ferocity and passion. Spotting this, Madeline did not give it much further notice, merely noted it as she did with all such details. In Court, they often came with far more use one would have ever estimated.

"Perhaps the ruler of Remailah would enjoy a visit from the Duchy of Pemberton?" She merely remarked, "I, for one, would be glad to see and experience the things you speak of myself." Of course she would have gladly visisted the eastern lands. Especially after hearing this. Their parties were most likely far less uptight and far more among the lines of what would have been called scandalous here. Madeline would even have the perfect excuse-for the sake of diplomatic relations. Imagining Edmund in such a colorful place(or at least it had stricken her as colorful) made her laugh. He would have had such a hard time adjusting to it! All the more reason for her to wish to go. Him staying behind would have been dangerous, since God knew what kind of stupid reforms he could make during her absence...but losing him somewhere along the way sounded more than merely nice.

The door opened yet again, announcing a Baroness Antoinette Rogue. Ah, yes, Madeline remembered this particular lady. Edmund had made her a Baroness, out of pity, because her fiancee William Howard had disappeared. Edmund had been the one to set her up with that fiancee in the first place, so he had felt guilty. There, that proved that even if he came from Benthey, the oh-so rigorous and Spartan Duchy, he was the meekest and the softest of men. Of course, the Baroness Rogue was going to keep on his side, for he would, if she only went to him and implied his guilt, give her nearly anything. Anything, if Madeline was not there to stop him. And she always was when it was about things of importance.

"Baroness Rogue." Her greeting was cold, her voice changing almost instantly from the satisfied tone she had used when speaking of visiting Remaliah, "All courtiers of Pemberton are invited." This was just a sign, a warning that she knew of all her relations with Edmund, and that she was not going to treat wonderfully anyone whose loyalties lied with her husband. After that was done, she spoke with her former voice again, "The Lady Hala bint Nasr was just telling us of Remaliah and the customs of that land. I believe it would be a most interesting location to visit, don't you agree?" Pretenses had to be kept. However, if possessing any wits, the Baroness would be able to tell it was all they were-pretenses.

"Putting that aside, have you heard of the unfolding events in Marhceford?" She was referring to Baroness Brighton, Viceroy Reed(the reason Elinor would have her support) and Serenity Smith.

Adrian had initially decided against going to this...gathering. But he decided to, eventually, after figuring that since his leg was healed and Victoria was there, he should go. Madeline Sherbourne was not his favorite person ever. But the other attendees would suffice. It felt good, regaining his freedom from that linen prison. He slowly walked behind Victoria, taking a seat beside her.

"So many women in one room. You'd think that, if Sir Cerval weren't here, you all would be plotting to take over the world."

He smiled and laughed quietly. He loved being around Victoria. Someone who lit up his world like no other. Even Serenity, who held his heart, couldn't lift him as much as Victoria. The ever lit lamp. His eyes glinted in the sunlight coming through the windows.

"So, I suppose that you have been up to no good, as always?"

He chuckled a bit more. He loved joking with Victoria. She was such an easy going person that it was near impossible to offend her. Atleast in Adrian's case. he took his arm and put it around her seat, out of view of everyone else. He wondered what suprise it would cause. A Marquess coming to a party hosted by the duchess? A man of such duty that he should have no time for such affairs? Such things made Adrian smile. Being under the Duke by only three titles, he had enough help to do his job. All he needed to do was to make sure those who lived under his rule were happy and cared for. He pulled his hand back around and gently grabbed Victoria's hand. He wanted some subtle way to tell her that he cared for her beyond normal frienship. He was completely in love with her.

Victoria smiled back at Isaac as he gave her a nod. She would not mind conversation with him, not at all. He was a friend, and some one trusted by her family. Surely there was nothing wrong with that. When she heard him and her aunt aunt speak about his own marriage plans, Victoria's mind also made a connection. What if her aunt tried to pair Isaac and Victoria together? No, she would not Isaac was only a knight to Madeline. Though, Victoria herself could see herself being content, and not overly objecting to that union. At least they were friends enough, and not total strangers.

Victoria did not want to look at who ever the random person sitting next to her was. However, when he spoke, a smile lit up Victoria's face. "Adrian," she greeted him with a beaming smile. "And how do you know we are not plotting even with him here? We need a couple men as our henchmen you know." Her green eyes spoke of the pure playfullness in her words. "And if I told you I was up to no good, where would all the fun in it go?"

When Adrian slipped his hand around her seat, Victoria's eyes shot up to her aunt. She knew that her aunt might not approve of Adrian. Victoria knew that Madeline wanted nothing less than a Duke, or Count, if not a King, for her niece. It was a nice gesture to make sure Victoria had a secure future, but all that power and money is not what Victoria needed. All she needed was a little care and love. She had her own land and money, being her father's only heir, she did not need more. Of course, however, Adrian was a marquess, he had power and money of his own. Maybe not as much as Madeline wished, but it was much more than Victoria needed.

What was Victoria thinking? She did not even know if Adrian truly felt the same way she did. She had some clue, but she was not sure. She hoped, and prayed, but was never possitive. If she ever found out his true feelings, she felt as if she would throw herself into his arms, and plan to stay there forever more. She let those thoughts slip from her mind. She would not think about the future, when reality was that he was right here, right now. And he held her hand in his.

Victoria blushed a little, but did not take her hand back. He could keep it forever if he chose to. But, she had to keep the conversation on something that would not draw too much attention the them. "Adrian, why are you here? Surely Marquess Smith would not show up to one of Duchess Sherbourne's events with out mischief on his mind." She giggled and winked at him. She knew he was appointed by her uncle, and that Madeline did not always agree with Edmund's ways, so Adrian and Madeline were definately not going to be the best of friends. She was happy to have him there, no matter.

"Well, they do say that he's loyal."

He chuckled. He kept his fingers laced in Victoria's. He didn't want to make it obvious to everyone else that he loved her. He wanted to keep it underwraps. For now, atleast. The only one who should know it was her.

"True. True, you can keep your mischief secret."

He wanted to say my love but he didn't...he wouldn't even dare whisper it in this room. He winked at her. He needed to be alone with her. So then. And only then, he could confess his true love to her.

Adrian glanced at Madeline from the corner of his eye. He loathed her. He didn't trust her. She was just using Edmund for his position. He hated to see people used. He smiled at Victoria's question.

"I don't exactly know. Being around you is good enough."

Antoinette kept her pretty courtier's smile on her face as the Duchess's words washed over her. Nay-as the Duchess's words were thrown at her. They were like little chips of ice. Antoinette lowered her eyes, curtsying again before stepping to the side. She stood with her back against the wall, her hands folded in front of her.
The very picture of the demure lady.
In truth, her mind was spinning behind the peaceable face. Her blue eyes watched Duchess Madeline, considering.
There had been no warmth in the woman's greeting, nor welcome in her eyes. Why?
Antoinette was used to dislike- her success in Soleil had earned her plenty of enemies. But why.....why would a Duchess dislike a Baroness? A Baroness in her own Duchy, in fact? To be truthful, however, Antoinette had not been made Baroness by this woman. It had been her husband who had orchestrated the title. Yet surely, any wife would not begrudge a a lady whom had been honored by her husband?
Again, Antoinette examined the woman in front of her. She was strong-no doubt about it. Ruthless. Beautiful. She did not seem the sort for Edmund. Antoinette took a certain enjoyment out of this-let the bastard rot in an unhappy marriage.
Ha.
Ha.
How ironic.
Still, it did not explain the coldness the Duchess had blown her way. Suddenly, a horrifying thought occured to Antoine. She didn't think she had anything to fear from her, did she? A threat of some kind? Dear GOD.
Antoinette checked at this. She was surprised to see how deeply her feelings about this ran. Once, she had considered Edmund to be a close friend, almost a father. Uncle-like. Loving, but parental. Maybe even fraternal. Anything more.....Antoinette shuddered at the thought.
Maybe before William, she would have considered it. Wondered, more like. But now.....now flames licked her insides at the very thought.
Surely, the Duchess didn't think Antoinette was in love with the man who had betrayed her? How ridiculous.
Still, Antoinette was loath if she would let anyone think that she felt anything towards the Duke other then a deep desire for his total annihilation . Not a chance.
So she stepped forward again, to stand closer to the Duchess. The woman had asked a question regarding Marcheford, a hot topic in Adesia. An opportunity.
"I find the events in Marcheford to be quite intense." Antoinette murmured, responding to her Duchess."I find myself siding with Lady Elinor, as her claim to the throne seems more legitimate. I had not heard which side your husband-" Antoinette inserted as much chilling disapproval as possible into the phrase"-your husband had settled upon, however."

((Antoine thinks Madeline thinks she is attracted to her husband. plotsplotsplots.))

Edmund decided to crash the little party his wife was throwing in her chambers. Ordinarily, he would have remained not a part of such gathering, leaving it for the womenfolk and the men accompanying them. When the late duchess Esabell had had such events of her own, Edmund had never once interrupted. The core difference was, he told himself silently, was that he had trusted Esabell. He knew she had treated the duchy fairly and had been receptive to the needed changes Pemberton underwent. Even as their own marriage faded into nothing, Edmund had never lost that admiration towards Esabell.
Now Madeline was something altogether different. She was lethally beautiful, her cold marbled face always reminding him of a snake readied to strike, holding you in its steady gaze before the sudden bite. And when you lay on the ground trembling as the poison spreads through you, it was her laughter he heard in the background. Edmund didn’t trust Madeline at all. He didn’t really care for her beyond the fact she was a fellow human. The duke of Pemberton came to see what the duchess was up to. He came to be nosy. And knowing this, he smiled a half smile as he entered the extravagant rooms. There was an odd dull glaze to his eyes, that certain knowledge that he was here as an intruder no matter how many curtsies and bows were aimed his way. He was an intruder into enemy territory.

He made his path towards Madeline, firm that she would know first-hand she could not keep him away. After all he was duke of Pemberton and he went where he pleased, did what he wanted. She could be a thorn in his foot but she couldn’t stop him from walking.
As he neared he caught the trailing words from the baroness. He wasn’t surprised at the hated tone she spoke of him with but as always felt that brief moment of total confusion why she blamed him for her fiance’s abandonment. A duke could only do so much and forcing a man to stay who wanted out was not something he was willing to do. And besides, a lord who would skip out on her was unworthy of her hand in marriage anyway. Edmund had given her the barony after his desertion. She got the title she wanted to marry. Now she had only to find a suitable husband and she was no worse off.
Edmund nodded carefully to Antoinette, the fact that he heard her obvious in his cooler than usual gaze. Still, his back was straight and proud and he addressed the duchess first.
“Duchess Madeline,” he greeted her, “my invitation failed to arrive upon my desk. Certain it simply a matter of forgetfulness,” he smiled as if they were old friends, “I shall send thanks to the messenger who sent word of your ahh... little party. I trust you are well?” he asked with the familiar question. It was mostly all he could think to ask her. They had little else in common.
Turning then to Baroness Antoinette, Edmund maintained that empty smile. “Baroness,” he greeted her properly, knowing she would be irritated at the formality, “My ‘side’ as you’ve put it is yet to be revealed. Furthermore, I’ve doubt the duchess be aware of such. Next time, ask for yourself,” he said with an undertone of anger. He tired of playing these games and yet so much of court revolved around head games.
“Carry on now Ladies,” he said as he briefly bowed and glanced about. If they had anything to say, they better do it quick. There were more important matters at hand. He had spotted the marquess and Lady Victoria too. Eager to end this charade, he waited to catch the eye of Adrian, nodding as he would begin heading towards the man.

"Loyal is only one of the many great qualities of Sir Isaac." Victoria sent a smile the knight's direction, should he hear any of the conversation that was being had. Victoria then slowly let her green eyes trail down to their hands. How it filled her with such a wondrous feeling. It truly amazed her how this one man could send such a rush through her. Keep you emotions under control, Victoria, she thought to herself. Her eyes then flashed again to her aunt, hoping that she could not see just how different Victoria was around Adrian. Her aunt was observant, but she hoped this was something she over looked as merely happy to have her friend back from the dead.

Then, she looked back to Adrian, her expression playful. "Adrian, are you telling me that you are using me as a tool in your mischief? I am shocked at you!" She faked grabbing at her heart, and wrenching an arrow from it, then giggled. "You wound..." Victoria wished to carry on with her playful act, but her eyes caught a sight she had not expected to see tonight. She watched as her uncle entered the room, walked right up and addressed Madeline. He then spoke to the Baroness that had been speaking with her. She knew that Madeline must be fuming this very moment. Surely she had not wanted Edmund here, as their differences often only brought bitterness.

She nudged Adrian to look in Edmund's direction when the duke looked their way. Victoria gave her uncle through marriage a smile. Reluctantly she let go of Adrian's hand, then stood to greet her uncle. Her pace was quick, though not a run. Every one in the room could see the admiration a girl might have for a father or an uncle shining brightly from Victoria's face as she came to stand before Edmund. She did not know whether to curtsy, or to hug him, so she did both. First she was formal, giving him a curtsy, then she let the childish side of herself show, and gave him a quick hug. "Uncle Edmund, it is always great to see you." And Victoria meant it, she was always happy to see him, even if he was not family by blood, she felt closer to him than to any real family she had left.

Madeline had wondered if Edmund had, perhaps, sent Baroness Antoinette Rogue here as a spy…and ordered her to pretend she was on her side, so Madeline would confide in her. Well, of course, as always, he was in idiot if he had ever thought his wife would say things of importance to a former ally of his. There was no person in this world that knew all of the secrets of the Duchess of Pemberton. Not even the fact that the loathing in Antoinette's voice at the mention of Edmund seemed genuine(she had learned to recognize such things), put her quite at ease. If she did not make friends, however, Madeline knew full well that allies could be useful. Especially those who had formerly been on the side of the enemy. And allies, before they became so, had to be tested.

Madeline had not quite expected for her husband to appear. Now that he did…how dared he? But anger was not really what struck her-it was more among the lines of amusement. Quarreling with her husband indirectly could have been so entertaining-especially when she would become a tiny bit more direct than she should, while he would, as the good gentleman, attempt to go on with the play. Oh, Madeline acted too, naturally-if she told him what was really on her mind, and did what she truly wanted to do, there would have been no Edmund Duncan in this world to pretend to be the perfect gentleman. So, she satisfied herself with the small freedoms she chose to allow herself. After all, she was the one to choose what was to be allowed, was she not?

As he approached her, with his pathetic smile, all thoughts of it being possible he had planned his arrival in order to cover up for the 'spy' Antoinette erased from her mind before even fully forming. He? Capable of such deceit? Bah! Had they not been in public, she would have laughed in his face. Instead, she returned his greeting with a seductive smile of her own, responding perfectly polite(as polite as she got), Yes, a matter of forgetfulness, indeed. I shall make certain that whoever was in charge of giving out the invitations is severly, severly punished, Duke Edmund.“ She spoke his title with contempt and disdain, showing she held little regard for it. Of course, it had not been a matter of negligence. But she was going to punish the servant she had placed in charge with organizing the event…for the sake of avoiding scandal. The real reason, in reality, was to annoy Edmund further-he hated seeing his inferiors scolded.

As she waited for him to reply, the Duchess averted her attention to someone she had seen enter and sit next to her niece before-Marquess Adrian Smith. Yes, he was sitting next to Victoria, conversing with her…and holding her hand?! Victoria's eyes flew up to meet Madeline's, where they encountered a murderous glare. Certainly the foolish girl did not intend on getting involved in any way with the Marquess? One of Edmund's loyal subjects? Not even in courtly love should she enter any alleigances with him! With any of them! Edmund could easily…well, if he was smart enough,…use it against the Sherbourne family. Plus, a mere Marquess was not nearly high enough for a Sherbourne girl.

If she does anything to embarass the family, I shall disown her on the spot. Madeline thought determinedly. Naturally, she did not believe Victoria would dare do anything, not when she told her she was not going to allow it distinctly. The Duchess was disgusted by the Marquess Smith, only a petty servant of Edmund’s. He, she mused, was certainly going to take the side of his wife…or was it ex-wife, now? Madeline had intended on arguing a bit…or at least passionately discussing…with Adrian, but now Edmund was here…and he offered much more fun. Also, she got a lot more enjoyment out of provoking and irritating him.

At the words he directed to Baroness Rogue, whom she decided to think of as a potential ally, Madeline had a ready answer. Waving her fan, in a bitter-sweet tone, she addressed her husband; “Of course I would be aware, my husband. All I would have to do would be to look at what Duchess Elspeth of Benthey decided, and I would be fully aware that you, as her loyal puppet and marionette, would follow faithfully in her footsteps.” She had said it matter-of-factly, casually, as if talking about the weather outside. A few courtiers gasped slightly, the other few(mostly those from the club of Madeline-adoring Lords) dared chuckle. Madeline was pleased, esepcially because there was not a single lie in her words. Edmund was a wealking, not made for power, still following his old Duchess like a leapdog. Now, there was much more to say on the matter, but unless he provoked her extremely, extremely…she would save it for the time when they were in private.

Adrian glared over at Madeline, catching her stare at Victoria. He held no respect for this woman. Disrespectful wench. The only reason he tolerated her was because he knew that if Edmund hadn't have kept his title, Adrian would be a mere lord again. He didn't particularly mind that. He just hated manipulators who preferred to up themselves rather than society.

"Oh, not a tool. Not at all. Shall I say.....a cohort?"

He chuckled slightly, until he noticed Edmund out of the corner of his eye. A man of good stature. That was, until Esabell died. As far as Adrian knew anyway. Adrian pulled a flask from his jacket interior. It was filled with nothing more than apple cider. The farmers in Llyn who ran orchards sent him a few bottles every few weeks. Adrian got up and nodded towards Edmund as Victoria greeted him. After she was done, Adrian walked foward, holding out his hand.

"Duke Edmund, I trust you are doing well?"

Adrian could be formal when the situation called for it. This situation called for all his politeness and manners. He smiled at the Duke, out of the coner of his eyes he glanced at Madeline. He glanced back at his old friend, waiting his response.