[centre][h1][color=f9ad81]Laurel Mith[/color][/h1]
[@Sol Grim][@Raylah][@KahleenCuthald][@Lord Zee][/centre]

[color=gray]She breathed out heavily as the Father left, his gaze lingering briefly on her before he left. Tension, pent up in her body, faded and left her feeling exhausted with a fresh headache pounding its way from side to side inside her skull. At a moment's notice she would have been ready to leap up and push Eve out of the door, had the Father proved violent, but the man was in much more control of himself than the murderous air he had been generating had suggested. Perhaps it was because she saw him through the lens of, oft exaggerated, tales about the Luthrans and their cut-throat nature, coupled with her current sense of weakness, but she had felt sure that at least one person in the room would not be leaving alive.

Her gaze drifted back to Dalious, pushed back to the bed bodily by his leader, and eyed the wound at his side. Now that she could see the dressings, she saw that her suspicion had been correct and that, although the Father had not lived up to the Luthran reputation, some Dalious' fellows had not taken his intervention lightly.

[color=f9ad81]"If I owed you anything before, we're now even."[/color] She grunted, nausea rocking through her but she ignored it and turned to Eve. She could see the concern in her friend's face but she could see the disapproval there also, her risky actions in saving the pirate not winning any admiration from the Princess. Now, however, was not the time to try and explain the responsibility she had felt although it was certainly the time for an apology. [color=f9ad81]"I'm sorry, Princess. I did not mean to make an inappropriate request of you but I was worried for your safety..."[/color] She trailed off, knowing that the direction she was taking would hardly fend off Eve's temper at all. How hard it was to carry out one's duties properly while still being a friend! On the surface the task seemed one and the same and indeed, in many ways, it was but the method was so different that it frustrated her efforts and everything felt awkward and buried under formality between them.

The matter with Eve was something that she would resolve later, when they had a private moment. It would, perhaps, be an idea to plan how they acted around one another with so many unfamiliar ears surrounding them. Coming here to Exodus without any agreement in place was fraying her nerves and, she sensed, getting in the way of their friendship as were all of the new, foreign experiences forming around them. Suddenly, Laurel felt a burning moment of jealousy as the healer, having woken up in shock, gave out her orders to the two wounded and then smiled at her. She was grateful to the woman who had gone some way to allaying her concerns about the Freyjan people but the way Eve responded to her made her feel uncomfortable, like she herself had suddenly fallen into shade and had been forgotten. She was a guard here, though, and nothing more so surely it was only reasonable for that to happen? The feelings, along with the pounding of her head and the accompanying weakness it inflicted on the rest of her body, were competing too much for her attention and she had to fight to think properly.

[color=f9ad81]"Thank you, for your ministrations."[/color] Laurel gingerly felt the stitches, wincing at the touch but she had to acknowledge that the Freyjan had done a good job, better than she could have done herself. With an effort she lifted herself slowly off the bed to stand, shooting a look at Eve as the Princess instinctively moved to help her; they both knew that it was not normal for a royal to assist their guard so much. [color=f9ad81]"I will be most careful, Princess. I feel strong enough to depart, I do not want to keep you or the Princess from the festival any longer."[/color] She bowed to Thyrri stiffly, her wound shouting in anger at the movement, before walking from the room as confidently as she dared.

It was only outside of the room that she realised she was still lacking her proper attire, the bow delivered back to Eve's quarters and her leathers left outside the spa and presumably sent the same way. The robe she was currently wrapped in was certainly not appropriate for rejoining the festival but she also did not want to leave Eve alone, even if she herself was no longer in any real position to protect her.

[color=f9ad81]"I might need to change, before we go."[/color] She said to Eve in a low voice, once they were out of earshot of the others, gesturing at her clothes. [color=f9ad81]"Your father won't be pleased I was injured, I can't be bringing any more shame on Earthica or else he'll have my head.[/color][/color]

[hr]

[centre][h1][color=silver]Erasmi Andora[/color][/h1]
[@Raylah][/centre]

[color=gray]The battle down in the arena drew to a close with a final, titanic clash before the Earthican warrior was crowned the champion. From the corner of his eye Erasmi could see the pleasure on the face of the man's king and allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. He respect their strength as warriors, it was not something that could be denied after all, and he respected the ruthlessness of the Luthran people which carried them through to that grand finale but they were all fools, unused to the machinations of a proper kingdom like Exodus or Primfia. Too few in number to understand politics and schemes, they had seen the tournament merely as what it was presented as and thrown their all into it.

Still, it had surprise Erasmi that so many Exodus warriors had taken part, even if there was barely a veteran to be seen on the field. He wondered whether he should have thrown some more of his men into the ring but chastised himself as soon as the thought began to take hold; second-guessing past actions was a fruitless and wasteful activity. For now, he would ignore the 'shame' his kingdom's loss in the tournament would bring and move forwards. He had never expected anything more, having only committed some of the green-behind-the-ears warriors onto the field to gain some experience; his real warriors had watched from amongst the crowd, learning and eyeing up potential threats as he had ordered them to. Information was power, after all.

He rose, bowing farewell to the Exodus monarchs and then gazed across the crowd. She would be hear, somewhere, he knew, but he would never see her. That was why she was so good at what she did and now he had a task for her, something she might actually enjoy after the miserably boring job of infiltrating the royal household. With that useful groundwork laid he had so many options available to him and plans and schemes layered in his mind, one atop another before the more fanciful being dismissed.

His signal given, Erasmi left the royal box and headed back to the carriages, some of his guard falling into line protectively around him but he left them at the entrance to the stables and walked inside. There was silence except for the sounds of resting horses but he knew as he headed to his carriage that he was not alone.

[color=Silver]"Aziza."[/color] He called, confident that she would be nearby.

It was time to end her boredom, time to set things moving.[/color]