[i]More than one look in my direction, lovely. [/i]Evelyn thought irritably, keeping the majority of her reaction hidden behind a nonchalant attitude. Kester's wild head sweeps of confusion drew many curious looks, and the shock behind his stare when their eyes met had her begging to facepalm. Subtlety clearly was not his strong suit. But the moment after Evelyn considered her little 'help' may have backfired, Kester shot her a look of sincere gratitude. 

[i]This could prove advantageous yet. I wonder... [/i]Evelyn snickered, entertaining the scheming ideas half-baked in her head. 

Although she failed to notice Mirabelle's keen observation of Kester's situation, Evelyn saw red flags in her head when the courtier stood and took her leave.

Evelyn slipped into thought, working the gears of her mind. [i]Mirabelle, the noble I have yet to research, shame on me. But from what I can tell... She's new to the court, so she doesn't have many friends among these people. Her performance was amiable, they'll remember her a short time for it. But to solidify those memories she needs to acquaint herself with as many nobles as she can, tonight. That's how networking works, and it's a necessity here. Politics are just getting dirtier, they'll step on each other to dip a thumb in a pie. If she's leaving now, her goals here are obviously not to make friends, or even get close to the King (though that remains to be seen.) Her face is too perfect, she gives absolutely nothing away. It takes constant effort to be a closed book.

However, she may just be retiring to her room to put away the lute. She may be back later to mingle, and I may be reading into this too much. But if my suspicion is true, there's no time like the present.[/i]

Evelyn would scour the kingdom's archives later, but first she turned to the King's right hand. However, his timing couldn't have been more ill, begging pardon of the King before leaving the hall. She met his eyes, easily deducing what he was up to. Which was perfect; he was in the midst of answering her would-be question. 

[b]"We'll discuss further later, Garthois."[/b] She said as he took his leave, feeling a devilish smile curl her lips.

That left herself and the court to entertain the King. Her eyes politely graced over his kingly features: the crown, the fine attire, the rings. All of that was show, of course. A King was not his jewels. But DuRant was no ordinary King, or at least his ascension was by no ordinary means. Rather than by the divination of God, DuRant was chosen by man. One man. Himself. And like a composer conducting his most revered work, His Majesty orchestrated the kingdom so not even she was the wiser. 

Her curiosity still remained unsatisfied. [b]"Your Majesty, I pray I'm not too bold when I say your kingdom flourishes; the people love their King. The Guild operates in the shadows, money abounds, and the nobles freely indulge in their ignorance. I find it hard to blame luck for all this good fortune. What, I wonder, is the great King DuRant's secret?"[/b]