[h3]Zaerna Throt'oll[/h3]
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With a breathy sigh, Zaerna flipped a thick tress of vibrant orange hair behind her ear as her stance shifted, her weight now on her left leg. She looked around, unimpressed, at the people and setting around her. She had never been to Shadow Worth before this moment, but standing amid its arches and tapestries now, she was unimpressed. Her own manor was much more intimidating and comfortable at the same time, and she had obviously hired better sculptors. The men around her were nothing special, either. She had expected to meet some worth-while men during her stay here at Shadow Worth, at least some she could take to her mother about to with-hold another conversation about her "hunt for a husband." But, standing in a rag tag group around her were a bunch of less-than-desirable mates. If she had looked at them as any higher than dogs, Zaerna would have pitied the incoming Gemminities for garnering such weak husbands. 

Although she was clad in her gold-filigreed armor, Zaerna's femininity was still quite obvious. A royal purple coat was draped over her shoulders, hiding the obtrusive form of her war-mace at her hip. Her armor ended with high, heeled boots and her armor was crafted to show the shape of her bust without presenting any specific structural disadvantage. Her journey to the castle was followed by many curious eyes. Many questioned why she would want a wife at all. A woman of her age and stature should be looking at a husband. In truth, she didn't (not any more than she wanted a husband), but she had earned the new pet and fully assumed to get one. She doubted these little gems had ever seen a woman of her kind before. She withheld a snicker and it turned to a sneer: she was fully expecting them to fawn over her in an attempt to get a merciful lover. 

She let a few of the quavering brides arrive before she made her appearance known. First, a fat faced girl who held absolutely no interest to the experienced sorceress. The next was somewhat interesting; very regal looking thing that held herself as if she were important. Zaerna absently tapped on the bottom curve of her horn as she inspected the girls. The third caught Zaerna's eye if only for the fact she was chained. At first, she wondered how feisty she could get, but she soon made it clear that whatever act of bravery she had shown was an anomaly to her; she stayed silent. The fourth girl was just some stumbling waif and Zaerna scoffed. The fifth, scantily clad in some beaded ensemble, came through without incident or originality. She joined the group and barely acknowledged the group of Drakkens. 

It was at that point that a man, distantly familiar, stepped forward and "delicately" took the waif's hand to his mouth and kissed it. Zaerna rolled her eyes at the look he shot the rest of his kin - she doubted many wanted such a dainty creature. It wouldn't last. On an unrelated note she felt immense irritation at the fact the man walked around shirtless. No doubt he spent half his time in battle defending his bare flesh for his own vanity. Another gem stumbled into the ballroom, this one looking just slightly roughed up. She looked around with wide, almond shaped, gray eyes. Zaerna found her to be the most aesthetically pleasing of the lot so far. The unadorned one with blue hair was cute, but not in an exotic way like this last one. 

A commotion sounded at one of the smaller doors, and Zaerna turned in time to see a gem entering the room and leaving her male guard on the ground. She had no idea how that guard was able to be tripped by the scrawny thing that sauntered into the room, but she hoped he got fired. The girl had a tattoo exposed, which she probably thought made her stand out, and her look of surprising confidence made on of the female Drakken's eyebrows arch highly. Internally, she laughed at whatever fool was going to take her in some attempt to "discipline" her. Women like that deserved no recognition nor gratification for their actions. If Zaerna got stuck with her, she'd merely throw her in the dungeon for a few weeks without food or contact - and what fun would that be? Sure, beating the piss out of her and wiping that look from her face through devious torture would be immensely satisfying, but Zaerna had prisoners of war she could do that to. To her credit, she called to the barbaric male who claimed the waif from before. At least she had backbone.

Into the room, late but not caring came Wilhelm the Black. He strode straight to the Princess, which didn't surprise Zaerna as that gem was garnering quite the attention. Zaerna gave no prudence to her: her family held no power and neither did she, especially now, no matter what illusion the pathetic gems found themselves under. At that point, with many distracted by the towering figure how had just arrived, Zaerna stepped out from the back of the crowd to get a closer look at the assembled brides. Her steps were sounded but the click of her heels and her cloaked swayed elegantly with her easy gait. She looked at each, from a few feet away, from head to toe, ignoring any word they thought they had the right to utter. She stopped at the Gem with gray eyes, her slender hand coming up to career the side of her face. It was reddened and raised, as though she was struck. "Tell me, pretty one, what did you think you had the right to do?" Her voice was smooth and actually pleasant, but her tone was amused and condescending. 

[@WeepingLiberty]