[h2][center][color=a187be]Sir Aldrich Martin[/color][/center][/h2]

Morons, the whole lot of them. Aldrich made a mental note to find out who was in charge of appointments to the royal guard and give them a competence booster straight out of his military days. Oh, sure, they looked nice and pretty in their armor, which they probably spent more time polishing than doing anything useful, but to be this lax on such an occasion wasn't just unprofessional, it was an outright disgrace. 

Things had begun rather smoothly. Gisela had said her prayers, or at least looked like she had, while the table was set and the chairs were arranged. Aldrich shared Lady Valericka's sentiments toward them being permitted to sit at the table; she insisted on sitting directly to Gisela's right, and there was no way around the Chancellor taking the other side, which left him sitting two seats to the queen's right. It would do well enough, especially since in many other places he might not be allowed at all. But that was something to consider for another time, he thought, as the procession returned to the hall. Valericka all but teleported to Gisela's side, and Aldrich was shortly behind her. He didn't say anything, simply nodding to the young queen in a show of reassurance, before turning his attention to the newly arriving guests.

Which was when his mouth started thinning and his brow furrowing. 

The first of note to arrive was the knight of House Alistair. Rycherd he called himself as he reintroduced himself. He looked at Lady Valericka with a bit of suspicion and disdain- in fairness, so had Aldrich before he got to know her- and then rose to his feet and started thumbing his sword. His damn sword that [i]should[/i] have been removed at the entrance. Aldrich started to move toward him to rectify that, but then was distracted by the next, substantially larger blunder of the guards. 

It was a procession of robed individuals, four of whom certainly had NO business being in the hall at that time, and they were all chanting something. Aldrich was nothing remotely like a mage, but time spent with Valericka had learned him enough about magic to recognize a spell when he heard one. Furthermore, the warlike nature of the chant instantly set him on high alert as he abandoned his intent to accost Ser Rycherd and moved between the priests and Gisela, one hand on his sword. As the vines snaked out and along the floor straight for the Queen Aldrich mirrored them, making sure that whatever this was would have to go through him first. Only when the blasted things stopped growing and the spell finished completely did he dare relax again, but even then he still kept a wary eye on the priest and his entourage. Once Kamahl, as he called himself, was finished with his reintroduction, Aldrich gave Valericka a curt nod to acknowledge that he was going to deal with things and headed toward the foreigner.

[color=a187be]"Pardon me, Lord Priest,"[/color] he said quietly, politely, and with as much restraint as he could manage, [color=a187be]"But I am Sir Aldrich, one of Her Grace's personal protectors, and there are some things I wish to address with you. Firstly, I can't speak for your home nation's customs, but it would be greatly appreciated if you would kindly refrain from such... dramatic rituals during your stay and in the future. Secondly, if you would please dismiss your companions to the exterior? I'm afraid this gathering was intended for only yourself."[/color] he finished with a somewhat forced smile.

When he got ahold of the guards managing the front...