[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/TFuZjmT.png[/img][/center]
[h3][color=bfc4cc]Prince Antoine[/color][/h3][quote][color=bfc4cc][b]Location:[/b][/color] Guest chambers → Abhainn's ballroom.
[color=bfc4cc][b]Interacting with:[/b][/color] King Maddox Auclair [@Scarlet Loup]; Prince William [@Legion02]; Lady Amaryllis [@Filthy Mudblood]; Lady Julianna (mentioned) [@HushedWhispers].[/quote]
It was almost cruel, in a way: looking out the window from his guest chambers, Antoine found there was so much about Abhainn that struck similar to Slibah, yet there was so much that was starkly different. No matter how much he tried to focus on the horizon, to try and measure and identify the differences between the peaks and valleys, his attention always wandered back to the commoners. Out in the distance, naked flames atop torches dotted about as the peasantry secured their lands for the night, while the merchants and better-off carried about the city to celebrate the royal marriage in their own way.
[b][color=bfc4cc]"Off to the inn, no doubt..."[/color][/b] Antoine thought out loud, with one foot crossed over the other knee and his chin resting atop a fist. With the thought of the royal marriage and the celebartions, his thoughts wandered to the next event on the itinerary: the masquerade ball, as hosted by none other than the King of Abhainn. A gentle scowl formed on his face as his thoughts were guided back to harsher things: there would no doubt that word of Jack's actions would have spread throughout the King's courtiers, and if the King truly intended to sabotage the royal marriage, the masquerade would be an excellent time to do it. 

Antoine let out a gentle sigh as he twisted about, standing from his chair to step towards the mirror. Looking at the reflection of himself, bare for all bar undergarments, he didn't see much. It was just him, after all - the very same person he had woken up to for his whole life. While he continued to look, his thoughts were not with the image before him. He had every intention to become the King of Slibah one day, whether it be through patience or intrigue. His thoughts returned to the peasantry in the fields and the merchants in the streets: he imagined them in battle ranks, clutching spears in hand at the front of an Abhainn Army. That would more than likely be their place in a war; need not mention, it would likely be their last place. Antoine let out a tired sigh as the thought occurred to him: compared to that image, intrigue almost seemed like a mercy. 

With a slap to his own face and a mouthful of water, Antoine centered his thoughts. His father would no doubt be scheming how he could ruin the masquerade and his mother would no doubt be scheming how to control the damage. His parents may scold him for not arriving with them - a particular risk in itself where his father is considered - although they could be forgiven for forgetting about him, with the weight of recent events considered. He lifted both his hands to his face and pulled down on his cheeks; the core of it all is that if he wanted to have any sort of political clout, he needed friends, and that went double if he was to have any part in averting a war. The King and future Queen of Abhainn would definitely be the people to have a good impression with by the end of the masquerade, although the odds were certainly against him... 

Almost as if blowing out a candle, Antoine switched from swift reflection to snatching up his trousers for the night. After sitting the waistband snug about his waist, he creaked the door open: 
[b][color=bfc4cc]"Ah-"[/color][/b] he began, interrupted when his eyes fell on the two servants. [b][color=bfc4cc]"I'm terribly sorry, I did not realize I had kept you both waiting."[/color][/b] He pulled open the door as he continued: [b][color=bfc4cc]"Please, come in. I'd like a hand with my attire, if you'd please."[/color][/b]

[hr]
The longer Antoine lingered in the ballroom, moving from circle to circle, the more anxious he felt. The nobles were skeptical of Slibah and, as much as he hated to admit it, for fair enough reason. While it was his intention to arrive early, he couldn't help but feel he got there [i]too early;[/i] he had yet to sight either the future Queen or the King, both of which were his prime marks for the evening. It was just then, as the thought came to him, that the arrival of Lady Julianna was announced. Antoine's head craned, quickly seeking out the new arrival before his feet set into quick motion. Navigating through the crowd, let alone with courtesy, was a difficult task in and of itself. By the time he drew near, he sighted another starting a conversation with her. 
[b][color=9e0b0f]"It seems as though you've made quite the entrance, your majesty."[/color][/b] the woman began, greeting the future Queen with a curtsy. Antoine watched for a moment, contemplating whether or not be should approach, before the fanfare sung announcing the arrival of another. His eyes shifted to the staircase, at which he spotted his other mark for the night: the King of Abhainn. After a moment of thought, he pressed any creases out of his doublet before moving to meet the King. 

As Antoine approached the King, who was already in conversation, he slowed his pace to listen to the tail end:
[b][color=#E15436]"Excuse me, my lady, I...you reminded me of someone..."[/color][/b] the King explained, to the vague interest of Antoine. It appeared he was too slow: both the King and Queen were already in conversation, so perhaps he'd have to wait. His glance shifted over to the Prince of Abhainn - definitely somebody he had intended to avoid, knowing his thoughts on Slibah, although perhaps while he was with his father...

Antoine approached the small gathering, his white crescent mask sitting in suite with his black and white formal attire. 
[b][color=bfc4cc]"Not a bad time I hope, your majesty?"[/color][/b] Antoine asked as he approached the King and his circle, coming to a halt with a curt bow. He continued to speak after he rose: 
[b][color=bfc4cc]"Prince Antoine, of Slibah. I understand congratulations are in order - for both your wedding and this lovely masquerade."[/color][/b] His attention moved next to Prince William, to which he offered another bow. [b][color=bfc4cc]"And Prince William - I believe I haven't had the pleasure..."[/color][/b] Finally, his gaze settled on the last in the circle - Lady Ward, who he had yet to meet. [b][color=bfc4cc]"...nor have we, my lady."[/color][/b] Yet a third time, he bowed forward to introduce himself, although this time he attempted to gently take her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles - although, if there were a sign of retraction or hesitation, he'd make his best attempt to play it into a standard bow: whether it be awkwardly or not.