[center][h3][i][color=33d6c2]Saisri Tyalanthe[/color][/i][/h3][/center]
[@Ellion]
Saisri hissed in pain but did not waver, continuing to look up at Atreyu. Her eyes were calm, and she stood passively, a small smile still on her mouth.

[color=33d6c2]“My lord, I do not mean to detain your search any longer; nor do I mean to offend these… honorable lords.”[/color] her voice dripped false honey, but she maintained her placid stance and look.

She didn’t like how tight his hand was on her upper arm; did he seriously think she was going to try to get away from this adventure? Nonetheless, his fingers were uncomfortable; she flexed her bicep a bit. Though she didn’t have particularly bulky muscles, they were toned from years and years of swimming.

As the Drakken made a selection of his bride, Saisri sized the girl up. She wasn’t terribly, terribly small, maybe four inches shorter than Saisri was, but fragile, clearly lacking confidence. She seemed shy and, judging by the slightly red, wet eyes, had been crying.

Saisri gave her a kind smile, taking the girl’s free hand (the one not gripped by Exon). She gave what she hoped was an encouraging squeeze and said as warmly as she could, [color=33d6c2]“My name is Saisri Tyalanthe. It is an honor to meet so lovely a daughter of Pyrus.”[/color] She said it as calmly as she could, as though there wasn’t a Drakken with a death-grip on her bicep, as though his brothers weren’t staring at the two girls with a combination of murder and lust in their eyes.

Juuust an adventure. Right.

[hr]
[center][h3][b][color=f0a446]Siadamkiru Beneni[/color][/b][/h3][/center]
[@weepingliberty][@wilsonturner]
Sia smiled at the smaller girl and wiped her eyes with a gentle hand. [color=f0a446]“You have nothing to fear, child. I promise.”[/color]

As the male voice spoke up next to her, Sia instinctively wrapped one arm around the small girl, the other hand going for the short sword on her hip. But she relaxed as she realized it was only “Valryk Galak.”

She listened to what he had to say and couldn’t resist slightly curling her lip. What was he, insulting her intell—Oh.

[color=f0a446]“Impudent bastard, I should blow your cover right here and now.”[/color] She muttered, glaring at the Gemminite imposter. [color=f0a446]”But I’m not going to because I admire you for getting yourself in here without dying.”[/color] Then she looked down to Sorrin and realized with a jolt that the girl was bowing.

She put her palm on Sorrin’s abdomen and applied gentle pressure, forcing the girl to stand upright. [color=f0a446]“Sorrin, you do not bow to me, you do not bow to anyone. From now on you are my equal. You are my bride, my “wife” if you would prefer me to call you that, not my property. If anything, I should like for you to become a friend, if not a sister… goodness knows a girl needs a friend in this place.”[/color] She lifted Sorrin’s chin, meeting the girl’s green eyes with her gold ones, and smiled.

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[center][h3][i][color=c2a5fd]Aymiria Cassiel[/color][/i][/h3][/center]
[@darkwolf687] [@weepingliberty]
Miry grimaced as the Drakken eyed her shoes, then looked her over. Of course, she should have left those devices on her feet. He would have found out eventually but then it would be too late for him to pawn her off on someone else for being a hopeless runt.

[color=c2a5fd]”These are a contraption my sister came up with, she calls them heel-risers. They’re supposed to make me look less like a child, but all they’ve managed to do is make me tumble down the stairs and blister my feet.”[/color] Miry spoke matter-of-factly, looking up at the Drakken. As the lord introduced his family, she eyed each of them quickly, but looked away, not wanting to draw their attention. She’d be getting to know them all very well, after all. Well… hopefully not the grandfather. He looked…  murderous. The brother, sure, looked lustful and dumbstruck. The niece was just sweet, naive, and innocent. But the grandfather... There was something about him, something that hinted at insanity, or at the least an all-consuming lust for power.

She shuddered. She would do well to avoid him.

Her eyes trailed back to Zakroti. It seemed as though he was actually considering her suggestion. When he motioned for her to follow, she hesitated for a second, not sure what to do with the foot contraptions, then decided to leave the shoes where they were. Of course, this now meant that she was walking around with bare feet and had no alternative shoes (as Aery had neglected to pack a pair for her) but she decidedly would rather have sticky bare feet than painful, wobbly tiptoe-feet.

She smiled shyly up at the sister, then tilted her head in confusion. They were… were they speaking a different language? After all, she heard the names… Ayltam, and Zak… Short for Zakroti? And her own name. She filed the sounds away in her head, to go through them later. Then she looked up at Ayltam. Something about the young girl was so… lovable. She seemed so sweet and hopeful, smiling shyly at her.

[color=c2a5fd]“It is an honor to meet you, Lady Ayltam. And please call me Miry; Aymiria is too much of a mouthful.”[/color] Miry said softly, as she smiled up at the girl and offered a small curtsy. She opened her mouth to say more, but then stopped as she realized that Zakroti was already speaking to the pretty fire gem.

Miry stiffened a bit at the girl-- Kasari’s almost… arrogant way of speaking. It seemed she was almost cocky, bitterness and anger apparent in her voice. Miry could understand that, of course, but couldn’t see a point in resisting. Sure, her sister had talked brashly, but her sister was also of the size where her back could be broken by any Drakken. Her resistance would be seen as an endearing token.

But Kasari? She was tall and strong-looking, for a gem girl, anyway, and almost as tall as the Drakken whom was about to claim her – At this point Miry wondered if she should configure a brace for her neck so that it wouldn’t get sore from walking around looking up all the time – and there was a fire in her eyes, an almost cocky smirk on her mouth as she feigned insult. For certain, she looked like she’d put up a fight, like she might actually be able to rebel and not be squashed down instantly.

Kasari looked like, carried herself like, a fighter. Miry wasn’t sure if she should be scared, excited, or envious.