Fareeha... did not want to be here, in short.
Pulling up to the Aciran estate was relatively underwhelming-- looking at it, she couldn't help that she would genuinely enjoy this place if she wasn't being forced here to marry a man who might very well give up his title any day now. And what would that say about her and her family? That she was so undesirable that literally not being royalty was a good price? It didn't matter what the man himself thought or felt or what the history of that had been, it would a blow to her reputation, as little as she cared for it, and further more to her line, which she did care for. Enemies will be able to use that for generations, really, if they were vindictive enough.
That being said, Fareeha fully intended to... maybe not encourage it, but certainly not discourage it. Hers was the country made of robbers, murderers, exiled soldiers, and more. It would be annoying to deal with in future years, but a marriage she didn't want? That he didn't want? Ugh, hard pass.
The woman in flowing black silk sighed and stepped out of her vehicle, giving a slight courtesy to her driver, holding the door open for her. Avlens was such a friendly chauffeur, he had actually talked to her the entire way here. It helped calm the nerves, no matter how she might deny them.
Marching up the steps after the last person-- Alejandro, she noted, primarily by the extravagance of his garb-- she raised a genuine, if small, smile to the Royal Family of Aciras.
"Greetings from the sands of Mamlakat Asslahra, Royalties of Aciras. A pleasure to be hosted by your wonderful kingdom," Fareeha began, before going on to pay a personal compliment to each of the members of her host. After finishing her greet and paying her respects, Princess Amari finished with, "And may your days be blessed with warm sands."
After finishing, she stepped aside and glided through the door, briefly closing her eyes-- before opening them to hear Quentin. Oh dear, him again. She'll have to wander a bit once he caught up to her-- she didn't really want to talk to anyone here, not at the moment.
Quentin straightened his tie and sighed, deeply. He was excited! He was. But also afraid.
Durrell clasped him on the shoulder, glancing over Quentin's shoulder to look at his reflection in the mirror before him.
"You'll do fine, man. I mean, yeah, they'll eat you alive, but the good thing is that it'll make for great content!"
Durrell's humor did not comfort Quentin, not in the private space he was using to finish readying up before actually leaving for the event. Still, he gave his friend and editor a smile, clasped him on the shoulder, and pulled him into a hug. "Thanks for doing what you're doing, man. Not everyone's lucky enough to have as great of an editor to annoy their ass."
The man only laughed and returned his hug, before stepping back and tugging at Quentin's suit, straightening it. "Get out there, man. They're Kingdom Royalty, but you're Youtube Famous, whatever the hell that means."
Stepping up behind Fareeha Amari-- lovely lady, she seemed equally amused and annoyed at him-- he finished buttoning up his jacket just before coming before Raven and her family. Stretching a grin across his face, crinkling his eyes up into halfmoons and stepping forward almost before Fareeha had cleared the area, he clasped Raven's hand in his and gave each member of the family a bow, briefly meeting each of their eyes with an almost laughing smile.
"It's great to see all of you again! I wish I could visit more often, and I do really, really love what you've done with everything, Princess, it looks stunning, it really does. If I had half the style, I wouldn't have to spend my time doing what I do, you know?" He gave them each a warm, enthusiastic greeting, personally complimenting at least one thing, always trying to poke a little fun and bring a little smile-- but on Royalty, he wasn't sure how effective. Didn't mean he wouldn't try.
Finishing up, he stepped to the side and entered the ballroom behind, giving the Princess a last short wave and half-hopping into the room.
Coming up behind Fareeha Amari, be briefly exchanged a greeting with her-- enough to get her to roll her eyes and gently shove his shoulder towards the rest of the room-- before he split off, marching into the room and surveying the crowd.
Crowd of politicians, princes and princesses, some of which who hated his guts.
His smiled widened and he clasped his hands, surveying the elegance and style of the beautiful attendees.
Then, of course, his gaze landed on his betrothed, Princess Maeryn Ozzette Raske. Ryn Raske. A dangerous woman from a dangerous family, and it just now settled onto him the reality-- he was going to merry the princess flayer. Even as he stared, he noted Beatrice of the Konigreich approaching them. Those three he'd approach first, he decided.
Of course, Ryn looked like she could seduce any man alive and was gloriously sexy. Sort of the whole don't stick your dick in crazy idea, except he was deadass betrothed to it, and her family likely wouldn't mind if he ended up getting diced like a tomato. He honestly wasn't sure if his family would mind either, so long as it secured them the threat of being allied with the Raskes.
Beatrice was scary, but she was also beautiful, but more in the way an extremely well crafted and decorated rapier was-- elegant, graceful, and could poke you where you hurt most.
Naturally he marched right up and gave the Flayer, the Rapier, and Prince Raiden-- he didn't have a good metaphor for him, to be honest, but that might be just because he liked boobs-- a bow, popping up again with that infallible smile and turning to a passing waiter, flagging him with a polite nod of the head. "Cup of white grape juice with some lemon squeezed into it to make it screw up my eyes like I'm drinking hard alcohol, thank you." The waiter's face just briefly broke from its mask to give him that what-the-fuck glance, before smoothing over again and hurrying away.
He turned to three-- primarily Ryn-- and refocused his beam on her-- err, them (Don't blame him, it was those legs, Beatrice can compete but won't win against Ryn, in Quentin's opinion). "Howdy Princess Maeryn Raske! A pleasure to be of acquaintance to ya once again. And you, Prince Zhao Raiden! And greetings to you once more, Princess Beatrice of the ever hardy Konigreich. I'm not used to walking up to a beautiful pair-- or, triplets?-- so do you think I'm doing okay? Should I..." Quentin patted his pockets and lapel, as if searching for something. "I don't know, draw a knife, knock back hard liquor? Honestly, it's easier jumping off a cliff to approach you three, and I can actually speak from experience on that."
Quentin glanced between the three, shooting off as if it were the most natural thing in the world, nevermind the fact that he came up behind them while they were staring at awkward moments made incarnate walking around.