The blue haired woman breathed in relief, so slightly, as the princess didn't seem to adamant in bringing the old spat. At least for now. She weighted her dagger in her hand, as she thoughtfully oversaw the situation.

A poor Nem mute woman, without a voicebox, claiming to do it for the sake of her sister? This seemed more out of a tale than actual event happening before their eyes, and yet not many doubted the act of the assasin.

But something inside Sult's mind was screaming. [i] She looks like bait. A failed assasination, a way to right one's wrongs... and a chance to help the weak. Just like the wounded old man Fanilly rushed to earlier. I don't like this, one bit.[/i]

But she had to watch for the princess. Sult grippped her dagger tightly. Under the glove, her knuckles went white. She wanted to scream that this seemed a bait to a trap, but she doubted people would listen to her.

After all, she was a tricky individual, the princess hated her, and her otherwise loathsome twin brother was around. She thus resigned to her fate and followed the princess as bodyguard.

Meanwhile, Nero, even if he was surprised or otherwise affected by the sudden rebuttal of the Silvern lady, he did show no signs of it, instead he removed his hand from her shoulder carefully, as he whispered.

"Well played."

He then turned around, and with a couple of strides, [i]defied[/i] the patriarch's gaze set upon him, as he took his offending hand and performed a slight polite curtsy as salute. [i]"The Marquis of Silvern is a common topic among my father and his fellow Dukes, but I have never had the pleasure to meet him in person."[/i] Truth to be told, he had heard him only once or twice in such conversations, but given his appareance and demeanor he seemed a proud, domineering person who sneered on others. Catering to his ego might work.

"Well met. Please forgive the crass behaviour of this fourth son of a Duke, but I couldn't help myself in front of such grace and beauty. You truly have a marvellous daughter, sire."

It was then when something else caught his attention. Yelling, instructions, and knights rampant. The nobles were being evacuated.

"I would love to chat a little more... but circumstances." He added, eyes trailing towards the assasin and the princess.

He then started walked the iron knights, Tyaethe in particular.

"Naive." Nero raised his voice, shaking his disapproval."Very naive of you, oh Holy One. How can you ask the entire party to perform and feign like if they were a masterful trope of mummers? Would you even be able to feign your own emotions, if your outbursts are a sign to go by? Not to mention my lovely cousin Dame Delacroix over there who's bent on starting a fight with that risque fashioned attire of hers!"

He pondered. "Just bar the doors, and don't let anyone go out. Confusion needs not to be feigned. And I'm pretty sure there is enough food and wine for wounded pride."

His eyes then trailed towards the finicky commander of the Iron Roses. Living legend or not, she seemed more like a lost child. "One thing is true, time is of essence. Therefore, just this once, and because the party is in your honor..."

Nero knelt before Fanilly slighty, as he bent his head. "My sword and my men are for this night, yours to command."

[@Iceheart][@Raineh Daze][@VitaVitaAR][@harinezumikouken]