Location: The Crypt ⇢ Servants' Quarters ⇢ Throne Room (The Palace)
Lyra's jaw promptly fell wide open. She honestly hadn't expected Prince Myrus to so quickly and easily relinquish the dragon egg to her. After all, she was merely a servant asking to have a priceless artifact of the Crown. Granted, from what she knew of Myrus, it was clear that titles meant little to him in comparison to the type of person that held them. Nevertheless, this was a big deal whether or not he saw it as such. Once the initial shock wore off, the corners of her lips pulled up into a wide grin. She bit her lip to keep herself from letting out a girlish scream of excitement. She quickly regained her composure. Now was not the time for that.
"Thank you, truly," she replied sincerely, nodding her head in thanks as a small smile played at her lips. Her gaze lingered on him, taking in his features and demeanor in seeming assessment. After a few moments, she finally pulled her attentive gaze away and smoothly turned back to face the dragon egg. She wrapped it in the linen and satin that it was rested on and carefully scooped it up into her arms. She then followed in behind the others out of The Crypt and back to the upper levels of The Palace. "I will meet back up with you all in a moment. I need to drop these off at my quarters," she explained, before breaking away from the group to head to the servant's quarters.
Once in her room, she gently rested the egg on her bed, which was still partially covered in her weaponry. She then quickly looked around her room to find a small chest in which she could put the egg. Once found, she unceremoniously dumped the chest of its contents and replaced them with the precious egg. With a soft smile on her face, she reverently stroked the egg one last time before closing the chest. For now, that was the safest place for it. She then pulled the book, which she was still meant to give to one Mavis Moll, out of her satchel and deposited it on top of her chest of drawers.
The smile soon slipped from her features as she turned to face the middle of her room. Today was meant to be a day of celebration, but more and more it was feeling like anything but. Queen Meliscente was murdered. That was nothing to celebrate about. More so, with that knowledge, she felt that the danger to Valda had only increased. And Lyra didn't like that. She didn't like that one bit. Well, if they want to get to Valda, they will have to get through me first, she thought to herself. Her expression hardened as she was filled with resolve. She marched over to her bed and grabbed her sword and sheath before strapping it on. The desire to wear a fancy gown at the coronation had long since fled. Right now, she was going for practicality, and perhaps an outward representation of the fierceness she felt in her bones. She couldn't care less if she didn't look "presentable." Screw that. Tonight she would be more than just a servant or a patron. She would be a warrior.
She briskly left the servants' quarters and headed to the Throne Room to meet up with the others. Voices wafted to her as she walked down the hallway with a cool expression trained on her features. But that coolness was most certainly short-lived. She felt the blood in her veins turn to fire as she stumbled upon what was more or less a crime scene in the Throne Room. Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her sword, and her nostrils flared slightly as her gaze landed on the dead body of a noblewoman. Her heated gaze then came up sharply and picked out her mistress Valda in the assembled group. "What the hell happened?" she bit out.
Location: Port Barge ⇢ The Castle (South Gate)
Malekith's gaze swept over to Marya and Medea as the obnoxious twins began publicly jabbering on in an ancient tongue. Oh, that's just splendid, he thought with utter disdain, his lips thinning at their foolishness. They had only just begun their mission, and they were already risking blowing their cover. He arched a brow at Nera before averting his gaze and purposefully turning his back to them. He had no desire to be associated with them, even in the slightest. It wasn't really any wonder why he preferred to work alone. More people meant more liabilities. It was as simple as that. He spent the remainder of the ride on the barge contentedly ignoring them.
Soon enough, the barge pulled up to the docks by the South Gate of The Castle. He kept by Fleur's side as they stepped off of the barge and entered the crush of people swarming towards the same entrance. He casually glanced over at the others of their small group, more or less just keeping tabs on them. It's not that he actually cared about them, far from that actually. He just wanted to know if they were caught so he could head the opposite direction. He ended up doing a doubletake when the twins and Nera suddenly vanished by Magykal means. His eyes narrowed slightly before relaxing as he looked back at Fleur. They're deadweight, he thought to himself, opting to hold back the snide remark. He gave a simple nod of his head in response to her before continuing onward.
Malekith felt irritated rather than alarmed when he was suddenly stopped by a guard. He refrained from rolling his eyes at Fleur's clear amusement right before she unceremoniously ditched him. Women. He refocused his attention on the guard and the matter at hand. "My name's Petroc Heap. I'm craftsman, leatherworking mostly," he replied in a relaxed manner. "I'm here to see the coronation and to see old friends and old places. You see, my family moved away awhile back, and I've been itching to see the place I grew up in once more."