Celia had lost track of where Edrik had gone and absolved herself of her self-imposed guard duty for the evening, letting his actual guard make use of themselves as she excused herself to the outside for a breath of fresh air. She had relieved herself of her skirts, her trousers and an old shirt of her brothers from when he was younger revealed beneath, and moved with increased ease and speed out from the main hall where noble guests were hosted. It was not long until she was sprinting, cloak billowing as she moved towards the celebration being held outside by a less politically choked people.
She wasn’t entirely sure at what point the brawl had started, perhaps it was after her second cup of ale, the princess was not of a habit of drinking and one had been enough to bring a healthy flush to her cheeks, two and... well...
Celia had found herself stepping on a man’s chest accusing him of cheating her out of a game when her arms were gripped from behind and she was dragged kicking from the man. Then the real brawl began. She hadn’t really meant to cause it, but a well placed kick landed to the back of another man’s legs and he had fallen forward into another drunken fool who then became angry and so on went the fall of decorum until cups were thrown and she was no longer held aloft, but surrounded by a riotous, drunken lot of fighting.
What else was a princess to do but finish what she started? So, she approached the man, grabbing two broken sticks (which later turned out to be chair legs) before tossing one at him.
“Duel me, you honorless man!”
“You...you scoundrel! How dare you cheat!” She yelled out drunkenly, tugging her cloak free and tossing it to the side.
