[color=0054a6]Varya Chandrar[/color]
Royal Palace, Rascade, Kindaence

Varya walked through the halls of the castle, dressed in a navy blue button up coat with a high collar and color matching pants, and wearing black gloves. Adorning his neck was a silver necklace with a precious sapphire stone at its center, a family heirloom passed from generation to generation from his mother's line. He doused himself in many shampoos and oils so that wherever he walked he wafted the scents of lavender mixed with sea breeze, and his soft hair was brushed straight. Varya took a great deal of time maintaining his appearance, and he hoped others would appreciate it as well, though in truth much of it was inspired by his own sense of vanity, and his infatuation with his own reflection. He forfeited all of his weaponry to the palace guards. He took his time walking through the castle, appreciating the craftsmanship of stone, and the decoration of the interior. While he was no expert on the nuances of architectural aesthetics, he could still find himself enjoying them. Though he was still nervous in the meeting of high socially esteemed individuals, he was confident in his ability to hide his self perceived weakness. 

When Varya reached the entrance to the room of meeting, he took a look at his reflection in a hand held silver mirror to ensure he still looked presentable, and found himself satisfactory. He put his ears to the door to check if any conversations had started, though he heard not. Slowly he opened the door and entered, closing the door behind him. He scanned the room, and realized that two people were already in the room. One was a tall man with short fair hair and blue eyes, a common physical trait amongst the local peoples it seemed. He was clothed like an exceptionally well dressed squire, wearing the insignia of the royal house of Kindaence! Likely of relation to the King, and thus deserving of the utmost respect. The other was a women a hair shorter than Varya with dark green eyes, with long hair that was also fair, wearing insignia of her own, likely representing a noble house. Varya dared not approach them, recognizing the significance of their company. Instead he silently makes his way to a seat closest to the south eastern corner of the room. He would face the door, watching for anyone that would enter the room and take measure of them, only occasionally diverting his attention to admire his own pretty face in his mirror. He would not talk or make eye contact with anyone unless they engaged in conversation first. 

Now all that was left to do was wait.