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@camelliaxaltier
"Perhaps he could be neither unskilled nor uncaring but instead has had a few too many glasses of wine, although he is rather steady on his feet, so perhaps not." Mell accepted the wine glass, a smile gracing her features in lieu of a spoken thank you. "She may, I have heard stranger things that women have found endearing."
Her cheeks flushed crimson as she stood and looked where she had been sitting. "It appears so. My apologies, my thoughts were so engrossed in my book that I did not notice it when I sat. I must pay better attention to my surroundings." In her embarrassment, it took her a moment to realize the man speaking to her was the Prince of Spain. Upon this realization, she hastily curtsied. "Again, my apologies, Your Highness."
Mell looked out the window and up at the gathering clouds. "It does, thank you," she closed the window as she continued to speak. "I was so lost in my book that I do not think I would have noticed even if it had begun to rain."
Mell blushed, embarrassed. "I was so engrossed in my book that I did not notice when you had spoken." Mell smiled at the girl next to her. "It is no intrusion, if I wished to be left alone I would have stayed in my chambers and read there. The sun shines this brightly so infrequently this time of year, it would be a shame for you not to enjoy it."
Mell was grateful that she had been right about him asking about her book. "I agree with you, or at least I do for now, I have nearly finished. I had been intending to read it for some time now, and finally picked it up." Mell smiled, as an avid reader, she enjoyed discussing books nearly as much as she enjoyed reading them. Her own enthusiasm blinding her to the forwardness. "I would love to discuss it with you once I have finished, it has been a rather interesting read."
Hal turned towards the new voice, welcome to an opinion that at least seemed to consider possible options. “It is feasible one such thing could be designed. You would, of course have to take in several obstacles into account before such a feat could even be attempted. Most notably how to engineer an entire ship to with stand the force of a catapult swinging forward without it overturning the ship, and how to store enough ammunition to make the whole journey worthwhile. And they are not light. or small. You’d have to give up space for sailors to account for projectiles. In my opinion, a stealth operation based more upon subversion would work better to overturn the government and pit the people against each other. No society can run if everyone is at each other,” the curly haired young man returned, most likely rambling. It was a topic that had inspired him as a lad, despite the actually reality of such a place ever having existed being dubious at best.
"You are right, by the time one could be designed, built and sailed out, your stealth operation could already be significantly underway. If you were to lay siege, you would also have the additional cost of supplies, plus a limited supply. There would be no telling how many months of supplies would be needed, and the risk of running out of supplies." Mell had always found the tales of Atlantis interesting, some of her favorite books growing up held stories of the mysterious city. "How do you plan on getting a stealth operation in? Getting them there would be problem enough,but they would then have to assimilate to Atlantian culture without being discovered. They would then need to become involved in the politics if they were to over throw the government. It would take years before they could even begin. You would have to choose young men and women who have just come of age, or you risk them growing too old for the task at hand before they can enact their plot."
Though a book laid open in her lap, Mell’s mind was elsewhere. Although she was barely 18, she had already begun to feel the pressure to find a suitable match. If her father had his way, she would be married to the first wealthy man that expressed interest in, much like her sister had. But Mell did not want someone who valued her solely for her pretty face. She yearned for something else, not romance, but for someone who valued her intelligence above all else. She was disturbed from her thoughts by someone speaking. “Utopia, written by Thomas More,” she said, assuming that they had asked the title of the nearly forgotten book.
- Joyous laughter as he watched one of his masked companions join in the dance with very little skill in the area of dancing, the man weaved between courtiers in perfect time with one another whilst stepping on this gentleman’s foot and tripping over that woman’s dress. Instead of joining in himself, a masked Francis had found a prime seat near the front of the room, by the King’s table, and watched rather happily with a cup of wine in his hand and a jug before him. “ Have you ever seen such a sight? You may not believe me but he had not had a single cup of wine, he is simply a terrible dancer. God bless him, he partakes regardless of this fact and often does so to cheer up the spirits of others. Join me for a cup, I believe he is to soon be on the end of a scolding if he happens to step upon that Lady’s skirts one more time. ”
Mell had been passing by when the man spoke. She paused momentarily out of curiosity, but sat in the chair adjacent to his when she saw the man he was speaking of. “You are right, I do not believe it. There is no possible way that someone could simply be so... unskilled.” Typically, she was not one who would gossip with a stranger, but after several glasses of wine, she had grown bold. Her attention turned back to the man dancing, and she giggled as he stepped on the womans dress yet again. “I think she is past a scolding at this point. I think she may slap him if he is not careful.”
~|~ OPEN ~|~
The night’s festivities were well under way, hours had passed, as had several goblets of wine. Spiced wine, foreign wine, traditional wine. And Hal had had some of each. “I do protest, m’good sir ! There is no way such a plan of attack could ever have succeed in conquering Atlantis ! It was supposed to be a sea culture surrounded by water, how would you have gotten catapults all the way out there ? ”
Camellia had been listening to the blonde boy speak, with a growing sense of amusement. He was right, Atlantis was supposedly surrounded by water, therefore a land catapult would not worked. "What if they were on ships, I do not see why one could not design a catapult meant to be placed on the deck of a ship," she said, inserting herself into the conversation. In her opinion, it was the most interesting thing to happen that evening.”Although that would be a rather costly option. What is it that you suggest?”
juandemendoza:
“I think you may have a point.” As cynical a point of view as it seemed coming from such a young lady, Juan was inclined to agree. Romance had never turned out for him - his feelings only leading to inward frustration and disappointment. “But there is some joy to be drawn from it, I think. At least for some. There must be, or we would not have such grand parties to celebrate it, is that not true?” He looked to his companion, nursing his own cup. “My lady, tell me what gives you this point of view. You are young to be so spurned.”
She nodded in agreement. “I suppose you may be right as well. It may be something to celebrate for those lucky enough to marry for love or to find love in their marriage.” Mell took a long drink from her cup to delay answering. When she was a girl and her mother had still been alive, she had believed in love. She had seen it in the way her mother and father interacted. But after her mothers death, her father became cynical and in turn so had Mell. She laughed softly. “I must sound like quite the cynic. My father raised my sister and I to marry for political advantage or wealth, not love.”
Camellia Masquerade
open
Juan was far more an observer than a participant when it came to any sort of public spectacle. He kept to himself, more than anything - always at the edge of the fray, watching silently, not at all one to take part in the courtly merriment. But that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the fun, looking across the way with a raised brow, utterly bemused by an elaborate routine happening across the way - some sort of dance put on by the players that had come for the celebration.
“A week of festivities. Do you not find it exhausting?” He posed the question, taking a sip of his wine with eyes still trained across the room before he turned to face them properly. “Are you a great lover of the holiday? A week only for romance?” It was a mixture of diplomatic probing and genuine curiosity - testing the mood of the courtiers around him.
It wasn’t that Mell didn’t enjoy the festivities of court, she would just prefer to be somewhere with her nose stuck in a book. However, her lady had asked her to join in on the festivities, so there she was, standing on the outskirts, an untouched glass of wine in her hand. She hadn’t paid much attention to the man standing nearby until he spoke. “I suppose it could be exhausting, especially if you were one of them,” she answered, gesturing towards the crowd. ‘I never held much interest in it, romance is for children and poetry. When we believe it can hold a place in our lives, it causes far too many problems for my liking.”
Breakfast had long since passed; as she was wont to do, Meg had slept into the late morning hours, ignoring the customary first meal of the day completely. Her time was hers to use as she pleased, and the youngest Tudor much preferred evening hours to the day. While sunlight illuminated the daytime, the shadows that fell after dark were so much more intriguing and enticing… Those thoughts, however, unfortunately did not quell her hunger, as her stomach rudely reminded her. Meg was quickly assisted in dressing and was soon tearing down the stairs towards the Great Hall for the midday meal, eager to consume any of the delicacies her cousin’s kitchens had prepared. Her curls bounced against her back as she descended and nearly crashed into a passer-by. “Oh, I do beg your pardon!” she exclaimed, though a grin still graced her features. “I’ve nearly run you over!”
Mell had gotten to know the castle walls so well, that she did not pay attention to what was around her and instead had her nose buried in a book. It was not the first time she had walked like this, in fact her nose was in a book or letter of some sort more often than not. Her father had instilled in her the importance of reading and knowledge from an early age, and it had blossomed into a genuine love for books. Mell had been reading when she realized that mealtime was nearly over, but she couldn't bear to put her book down at such an interesting part. She looked up for a brief moment and nearly let out a yelp of surprise at the woman so close that they had nearly walked directly into each other. "No please, the fault is mine. I was so enthralled by what I was reading that I did not want to put it down, but I should have paid attention to where I was going."
To say the granddaughter of the Sharif of Mecca was a natural-born lady-in-waiting would’ve been a rather heinous lie. Yes, she was graceful and sophisticated, could converse and recite poetry beautifully, but she was also far too restless and in the habit of wandering off during the quieter moments. Confident someone would come and look for her if need be, Amina took great pleasure in roaming the gardens, much different from the ones she had grown accustomed during her time in the Ottoman court. And while the gardens of her childhood home were dear to her, they were frankly unfashionable and often lacked the care they required. It wasn’t very surprising, not with the unforgiving weather and punishing heat of the Arabian Desert.
“It’s very beautiful, is it not?” she asked after the necessary greetings, having only now realised she wasn’t actually alone. “Even during the colder months.” Amina paused for a moment, glancing at the other. “Have you had the privilege of seeing the gardens during the summer, when everything is colourful and alive?”
Mell had taken a quiet moment when she was not needed to get a breath of fresh air. Too often, she stayed inside the castle on the nice days, but today was an exception. She was enjoying herself, despite the chill in the air that seemed to seep through her cloak. "They are quite lovely now," she agreed, "but my favorite time is spring when the gardens seem to be teeming with life."
