[centre][h1][color=f9ad81]Laurel Mith[/color][/h1][/centre]

[color=gray]Exodus was getting busier by the moment, the streets thronged with revellers and visitors. Merchants plied their wares, trying to take advantage of the massive influx of people not that many of them had the funds to pay the steep prices; Exodus was the richest nation by far after all.

Laurel weaved her way through the crowds, her height commanding some of the smaller races to part way for her while others seemed determined to frustrate her path for the insignia she wore on her surcoat. She pushed past those, muscles built from hours spent with the bow greater than those any civilian could boast, her eyes focused on the palace ahead. She could see the heads of her fellows rising above the sea of faces unknown to her, their Levonian blood plain in their stature, pale skin and fiery hair.

Standing out even from their own, the Captain of the Kingsguard and Solveig towered over everyone. The latter's face was more familiar to her, Ultfic being more of a passing acquaintance even after her years spent treading the Earthican palace halls in Eve's tow. Bursting free of the crowd she brushed herself down, adjusting the surcoat a little more appropriately before approaching them. Normally she would not be concerned as to her appearance, days spent in the wilderness on the hunt were mutually exclusive to the excessive cleanliness and scented oils these Freyjan people seemed to enjoy so much, but she was representing her people now. Even if Eve wanted to rebel against such sensibilities, it was not Laurel's place to do so as much as she wanted to cast aside the weight of responsibility the blasted insignia settled on her shoulders.

[color=f9ad81]"Have you seen Eve? The Princess."[/color] She corrected herself, glancing over the entourage and spotting both the King and Queen as she spoke. She did not see her friend, the one person she was ostensibly charged with protecting in this foreign city, and stifled a groan. Where had she gone now? Her emerald eyes drifted toward the palace proper and she thought she spotted that unruly mane of red hair she was so familiar with, standing out amidst the glittering dresses and Freyjan complexions.

This time she could not conceal the grimace, remembering the way Eve had cast off the dress she had been made to wear for the event in favour of her more practical, if much less appropriate, every day wear. The Queen would be far from impressed, she knew, although she doubted any blame would be cast her way; it was well known that while she was close with the Princess she was as powerless to control her actions as Eve's parents.

She turned to Ultfic and Solveig, trying to keep a watch on Eve by way of her hair, bright as a bonfire in the night, and gestured toward the exclusive appearance of the gathering inside.

[color=f9ad81]"So are we allowed in there? It looks a bit rich for my blood."[/color][/color]