She offered a light giggle as she took the flower, genuinely amused at the grim expression of her husband-to-be. Lightly, she took it in the palms of her hands, bringing it closer to her face. It was a beautiful flower. The younger brother spoke at her, but the words were only registered in the distance.

 A deep blue prismatic distortion emitted from the smoothly crafted glass, striking the splayed petals with a deeper indigo and spreading the frozen stem into tiny, spear-like tendrils that snaked throughout the prison that had immortalized the Hinterblossom. It brought a genuine smile to her face, the strange trinket she held. 

 "It is beautiful," she admitted, taking her eyes away from it and cradling the glass against her stomach as she offered a slight dip of her hips to her betrothed, "and I have never had the pleasure of seeing such a flower before. You have my thanks, Lord Brogan...and thank you, Lord Brom, for informing me of its purpose." Seralle didn't expect much of an answer from the man, but she met his eyes; searching for his thoughts.

 His eyes were deeper than she expected and perhaps there was even a hint of anxiousness in them. She met his gaze evenly, studying him as he gauged her thoughts of him. He was a man of few words, she knew, but he knew his symbols...if this gesture were truly his.

- - - - 

Terrin Quinn watched the spectacle with veiled interest, standing in his appointed place beside the throne. Standing in front of two armored knights, he must have appeared extremely small to those who were paying him any mind. His sleepy eyes were fixed on the two betrothed, the wild young girl and the barbaric young king. Most likely, it would be that those wandering eyes were more curious as to what he obscured, rather than the towering men behind him.

 The two knights held between them an ornate chest, emblazoned with the sigil of House Arten. He turned his head, to King Piervue, who had taken to his throne once more. With a slight inclination, the king gave Terrin his order. 

 "Lord Arten," he said as bowed to the northmen, "the royal family has also seen fit to prepare a gift." Terrin swept his arm to the knights, before straightening himself. The pair opened the box, revealing a grandiose weapon; a heavy blade forged of blackened steel, bearing an engraving of House Arten's sigil.

 "The box is yours, as well, Lord Brogan," Seralle added, stepping away from the northmen and her father, "if it please my lord father and betrothed, I would be alone for a moment before the feast begins."