&&. lady laurentia lannister — lannisport masquerade.
heavily inspired by the island of naath.
the lantern-light glinting off gold-thread butterflies stitched across her fitted jacket. her boots, deep navy leather adorned with fine embroidery, were matched by short gloves of the same shade, their cuffs embroidered with ochre suns. and she wore jewelry of gold and sapphire stones. around her waist curved a porcelain half-corset, intricate and fragile-looking, gilded at the edges, and painted with a landscape of naath from within-- its small houses, stretched palms and coconut trees, its dark, amber-eyed people, its colorful swarm of butterflies-- so fine it might have been stolen from a maester’s canvas. there were not many known paitings of naath, but she had one, bought during one of her many voyages-- made by a local artist of the island, plagiarized by the lot of charlatan painters in every port.
the mourning over felyx's parents have passed its days for a while now. so, as tradition often dictated, she knew a celebration for his ascension in title were to come. and he had told her about mira's plans on throwing a masquerade. only a tyrell could add such finesse to her brute cousin's life. and that was precisely why she adored the girl as one of her own siblings. once she was made aware of the plans for the party, she had her costume made, tailored and forged in extreme detail. a lot of coin and thought spent on it. as it was inspired by her favorite painting, for years now displayed on her chamber wall.
the crown-hat perched atop her hair mimicked waves rising with pale blue and white fabric for the foams, a miniature ship balanced among them: reminder and warning both, the only way to reach that dangerous, fever-stricken island. her porcelain mask gleamed white in the firelight, fractured with gold kintsugi lines and touched with butterflies. a clever piece of western engineering-- its lower half could detach, chin to mouth, with invisible magnets hidden along those golden seams. she held it in her hand, the porcelain mouth, in order to sip off her goblet. her lids glittered with gold powder, but what struck most was the tiny lines of red tint streaked right under her masks sockets, glistening like blood-tears, mimicry of naath’s fever, beautiful and unnerving all at once.
