Annika gazed around the manor house as they were escorted to the guest wing. It was a handsome place, made of warm stone with russet accents. Here and there the walk ways open up to reveal lush carefully tended gardens centered on elaborate fountains, some of men on horseback, others of modestly clad women who might have either been saints or mythological figures. Soft floral scents wafted from carefully tended beds of roses, and the subtle perfume of orange trees and purple profusions of bougainvillea blossoms lay heavy on the air. Servants and other members of the extended family of the duke were glanced from time to time, a lady reading from a book of hours by a portico, a gardener tending to some pruning, but it seemed the guest wing itself was empty. Like previous areas they had visited this two was scentered around an open air garden, the entrance way opening onto the garden which was surrounded on three sides by the enclosing structure. Carved balustrades of dark polished wood, separated the raised wings from the garden proper, allowing anyone resting on one of the many benches a view of the garden while permitting them to remain in the shade. To Annika, raised in the deserts of Istkar it seemed very lush, though there might be a slight tinge of aridity to the air to any who had not grown up in so extreme an environment.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable, there are servants here to fetch whatever you should desire. The Duke will expect your for the feast at Vespers, that is three hours hence, I will have servants fetch you when the time is right," Aldego said in his polished Hazat accent. Annika was slightly surprised by the use of the canonical hour. 

"The Duke is a devout man then?" she inquired. Aldego immediately stiffened.

"All Hazat are faithful servants of the Church," he declared loftily. 

"We here on Aragon have not forgotten our duty to the Pancreator and his holy mission," Aldego added. Annika wasn't sure whether the veiled slight was directed at her or at Orion as a member of the now reigning House of Hawkwood though she supposed it didn't much matter.

"To that end, would you like me to escort you to the chapel, the proper place of the clergy?" he added. Annika smiled a wintery smile.

"As a layman Sieur Shazrin, you cannot be expected to know this, but those of my order find our communion with the Pancreator wherever we go," she made a guesture to the beautiful garden.

"This shall serve just fine as a chapel for me," she said with a serene guesture.

"And if I may offer one so faithful in the Pancreator's service some advice Sieur, a layman ought not presume to know the 'proper' place for a member of the clergy," she advised, enjoying the way the servants face darkened as she spoke.

"There are those who would consider such a thing improper, possibly even heretical," she added sweetly. Shazrin opened his mouth to retort but glanced at Orion and clearly thought better of it. Instead he bowed and retreated back into the house proper.

"Charming fellow," she observed, and Ragnar guffawed as he leaned forward his meaty fists encircling the ballistrade.

"You should have blasted him with your magic, jumped up bondsman," he snickered in his own tongue.

"Among my people its considered rude to break every bone in a mans body," she replied in Vuldruk, "the host might take offense after all."