Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28718853-20200820153125/@comment-28358106-20200914003110

If Benko and Evelyn have any notice of Prince Finn's expression, the changes are rapid and subtle, but quite apparent. Upon being told to stay away from the hard drink, his face shifts from surprise to indignation to defiance, and back to acquiescence within the blink of an eye. He remains perfectly cordial, but his clipped voice betrays him only very slightly.

"You are most welcome for the gifts, and we are glad you find them to your liking. We shall retire to the gathering until your summons."

The Prince gives his departing bow, and the others do likewise before turning and joining the growing crowd in the assembly hall.

As one, they move without conversation, until Hyngwar, grinning ear to ear, places a large gauntleted hand on Finn's shoulder.

"Mïn prinze, don't øvertink tings. Dë jarl ïs only trying to keep hïs law.  Une nïght witout drïnk shouldn't be so bad.  Troost me ven I say your father dë konig has hadt to püt up vvit vvorse." Despite her attempt at comfort, she looks quite ready to burst out laughing.

"[Oh? Did the mighty kings of old treat you like a child?]"  Finn growls.

"Oohh, yas. Mäny tïmes."

"[And I'm supposing that in those days, an insult meant you had the right to cut them down?]" Arlmar smiles.

"Yoü tell me ifv yoü remember dere names, boy!"

At this, both Hyngwar and Arlmar burst into a laugh, and Finn's surly expression melts into a smile. Hyngwar gently punches his shoulder from behind.

"Dat's møre like it, my Finn. Poutink is für babes, not mighty-blooded prinzes."

"[Heh. I understand, my Bann.]"

During the exchange, Moki is neither impassive nor happy, but looks to Finn with a hidden, worried look.

In short order, the group arrives at the buffet spread. Shaking off the worry, Moki takes it upon herself to perform her duty and she steps forward, addressing the nearest Kikimora maid who is attending the table.

"One flask of mead and three hot chocolates, please, and an assortment of meat and bread cutlets. And put them on a tray that I can carry," she says with a smile.

As they wait, Hyngwar folds her arms as Cirelle addresses her. "My Bann, if I may," she begins, "Please do not remove your head during our time here. Especially during the dining hour."

"Ja, ja," Hyngwar waves her hand dismissively. "I von't. At least, nöt ünless tings get vvild ënøugh.  Und by dë sound uf tings, dey never vvill.  Høw is anybödy suppøsed to dance to dis müsik?  It's very stränge."

"Enough mead will make anyone dance, my Bann," Arlmar says with a twinkle in his eye. "I think you've proven that."

"Bah! I vvas just shøvving off."

"Do NOT take your head off." Cirelle says this quite sternly.

"I saidt I vvouldn't, so I vvon't. Gods abøve, yoü dö gö øn,"  Hyngwar furrows her brow and looks down at Cirelle.