(2018-05-04) Spring Feast
Brief description of the log, an anecdote, quote, comment, caption - will be at top of the log info box
arabella cristofano enzo marsilia vittore lorenzo orazio baldessare amadea livia 
An
Summary:
The Great Houses of Matora gather at the Palazzo Sabastino for a Spring Feast.
Related:
The Exiled Prince
Misc Info:
Rolls can be found in the scene below to influence the Prince of Pelcortia who was in attendance.
beatrice vittorio cosimo garden isabella antonella amanda elizabetta raffiano 

The great hall of the Palazzo Sabastino has been decorated floor to rafter for this Spring Feast. A banner bearing the coat of arms for each of the Great Families of Matora has been hung from the rafters, and reflect jewel-colored light from the candelabra, House Sabastino's hanging over the raised table at the far end. Local wildflowers are gathered in vases on the tables and woven into swags of greenery that festoon the walls, their scent mingling with mouth-watering aromas that float in from the kitchens as servants bustle through the doors.

Those same servants offer bite-sized samples of the delights to come, along with excellent red and white wines purchased from the merchants of House di Necchi. Overhead, on a mezzanine balcony, a quartet of musicians play lively music for the party-goers that promises dancing to come. The doors to the gardens have been thrown open on the spring evening, and guests are invited to move freely between the hall and the lush landscape beyond.

Liveried attendants stand to either side of the large double doors leading from the courtyard into the great hall of the Palazzo Sabastino, ready to throw upon the doors for each arriving guest. Just inside, a third is at hand to loudly announce the name and title of those passing through.

*

At the entrance of the Great Hall, where the bulk of the party will be held, is Arabella di Sabastino. Perhaps she is with her brother(?) but she remains there to greet the guests as the staff show them through the courtyard and into the room. She wears a warm smile and a gown of red and silver made of fine material and reflects the colors of her house. Her hair is pulled back on either side in twin braids to the center at the back where a silver comb tucks them into place leaving the rest of her dark locks to tumble free down to the small of her back.

*

Once, the social scene of Matora was a realm in which Beatrice Capello held a firm grip upon many intricate webs: gossamer and spider-silk the strength of any contessa for whom the game must be applie with will and verve. Now, comfortably retired into her dowagerhood, she drifts into the glitter of the party in yards of scalloped roseate silk, and moves at an ambling pace, her slippers drifting over the parquet without any particular intent or will showing behind her wandering. Her head canted to one side, she peruses the Great Hall with private amusement dancing in her deep blue eyes, resolved to do nothing of value to anybody.

*

The Conte di Necchi is here tonight in his finest regalia. In a doublet of night black slashed with ermine — in full representation of the colours of his house — Signore Vittorio is proud, yet there's just an odd touch of stark humility mixed in with his arrogant demeanour: his widower's black has few traces of silver; about his fingers there is but one silver ring with a small onyx crystal in the centre.

Waited by Sebastino servants on small morsels of the delicious feast — and wine cultivated from his own vineyards, no less — the Conte that's spent so long away from the city in his mourning looks fully well contented tonight, and ready for a bout of celebration.

*

As it happens, Cristofano Sabastino is running late to his own family feast. He emerges quickly from the deeper within the house, nearly braining himself on the door that is opened just a touch too slowly by a servant who doesn't seem to grasp the Conte's haste. Red rising to his cheeks in a shade fit to match his doublet, he tugs on the garment to wrangle it into place, then walks with more dignity than he feels to his sister's side. As he goes, he swipes a goblet of wine and takes a healthy swallow. "Good evening. Welcome. Welcome! Please…enjoy." He makes polite small talk as he passes guests of little importance on his way to his sister's side. Only there does he lower his voice and murmur, "Sorry. I fell asleep. I was up too late last night."

*

Orazio di Farro arrives to the party, it wasn't far from home after all. Neighbors and all that. One is hard-pressed to tell if he knew, though, that a party was here. He arrives, well dressed, but certainly not in the finery that so many would be wearing- he wear no silks or the finest of regalia. Rather, Orazio is dressed as any nobleman of Matora might be when visiting another house. He'll leave the finery to his brother and sister-in-law.

Instead, he finds his way towards a servant- takes a drink and nods his head. "Thank you." He then lifts his glass to Cristofano, a quiet salute of thanks to the host.

*

The Conte and Contessa di Farro arrive amidst many other guests, and while it is Vittore whose steps lead their way, it is perhaps his young wife who is most excited to be here. "This must seem just a little more like a typical evening at home with family than a visit with another House, hmm?" the man wonders of his wife, although there is a little humor in it: one assumes that no family in Matora feasts like this every evening! "We should go and say hello. I am still getting used to the idea of inlaws, but I know your sister will be thrilled to see you - the last time I bumped into her and the Conte, all she did was ask after you." In that fashion, he will wind their way toward the hosting pair, albeit in no rush, as there are no doubt many who wish to say hello!

*

Conte Cosimo di Gaspari had arrived at the feast with his Avicorsan wife on his arm. Undoubtedly, she was wearing something tremendously fashionable. As for himself, he has dressed up in finer garb than he would normally wear, a tunic and trousers inlaid with some jewels, everything in the color of House Gaspari. The two linger in the courtyard for a few moments, Cosimo murmuring into his wife's ear. Finally, he leads her into the Great Hall. He nods and smiles to Arabella, greeting her warmly. "Pleasant evening to you, Signora. Everything has come together so well." The arrival of Cristofano is something of a small surprise, but he nods to the Conte. "Conte Cristofano, I was just relaying to your sister how wonderful everything seems so far. My wife…" He pauses, gesturing to Garden. "…and I look forward to the rest of the evening. Oh, I forgot that I hadn't had the opportunity to formally introduce you to her as of yet. Conte Cristofano, this is Contessa Garden di Gaspari, formerly of Avicorse. My dearest, this is Conte Cristofano di Sabastiano. Once things settle down a bit more, we should arrange that private dinner sometime, Conte."

*

Cutting her eyes to her brother who is ever so rarely late, Arabella's wears a somewhat amused expression. Linking a hand with the bend of his arm, she offers moral support while accidentally keeping his goblet hand more immobile. "I should ask the reason you were up late last evening, though perhaps the answer is not one I want to hear." Again, she is teasing him and the jest shows in her eyes. With the first of the arrivals from the Great Houses, she dips her head demurely, "Welcome to Palazzo Sabastino, please enjoy your stay and should you need anything at all, the servants are aplenty and you need only let your need be known." All polite and proper and everything! Until she sees her recently wedded sister. "Marsi!" Exclaiming her name and letting go of Cristof's arm to properly greet her sister. "Welcome home, I have missed you." A slightly more contained greeting for her new brother in law, but he gets a smile as well. "Welcome, welcome, truly." Catching the greeting from Cosimo, she smiles in return. "Good evening, to the both of you. You look stunning, Contessa, and you as well, Conte." Wisely, there is no mention of hair.

*

Much like her husband, Garden di Gaspari is clothed in the colors of her house: green and blue, jewel tones. Her gown is more expansive than usual, but still allows for movement. The overcoat, however, is where most of the work has been done. In expansive brocade, the overlay of silk is extensively embroidered with intricate beadwork. Both her necklace and the diadem in her carefully braided hair hold numerous stones that also match the ones laid into her husband's attire. Similar ones rest in her ears and at her wrists, though the rings at her fingers are more simple in just gold and silver. Such that won't get in the way of food or clothing should she choose to dance. She smiles, briefly, at Cosimo as introductions at handled; her head tipping slightly towards Christofano. "A pleasure to finally meet properly. As my husband says, that dinner should certainly be handled, soon." And to Arabella: "Lovely to see you again. I do believe Isabella is here somewhere. I've told her that she is welcome to share that recipe once we have you and your brothers over for a meal." Ah! Hair is metnioned. If indirectly.

*

Walking alongside the Conte di Farro is the small figure of his bride, Marsilia. The young woman walks quickly on gentle steps as she makes her way through the warm familiarity of her home away from home. Always the fashionable sort, she wears an elegant dress made of the finest fabrics, dyed an amethyst hue. Lavender ribbons running down the lengths of her sleeves add a soft contrast against the bolder color. Her hair is done up partially with similar ribbons and pearls securing her look. On seeing Arabella greeting the guests near the entrance, Marsilia's features soften considerably when the pair draw nearer. "Oh, Arabella, it's only been a month, but it feels forever since I last saw you." Nevermind, that their villas are close enough for them be neighbors, but married life is hard work! She even graces Cristofano, in the near distance, with one of her small smiles. "The entire city seems to be gracing our halls with their fine company this day."

*

Catching sight of Orazio's silent salute, Cristofano adopts a quick smile and would lift his own goblet by way of reply, but it is currently being held prisoner by Arabella. Anything more is interrupted by the arrival of the Conte di Gaspari and his wife and the Sabastino finds himself in the midst of an introduction. A helpless look is given to his immobilized arm before he plasters a smile onto his face for Garden and Cosimo. "Conte, Contessa. You honor us by attending this evening and the pleasure," he continues as he focuses solely on the contessa, "is entirely mine. Our customs must seem strange or even rude to you, Contessa, but what we lack in refinement, we make up for in warm hospitality." His gaze returns to the Conte. "I would be most interested in a private dinner. Let is ensure that it happens soon."

Though he is with guests and unable to run to his sister like Arabella, Cristofano nonetheless gives Marsilia a warm smile and a little wink from where he stands.

*

It would be difficult to say which of Lorenzo's senses are hit first on his approach to the Sabastino hall, but it are certainly the scents which leave the strongest impression. From the fresh, breezy wildflowers to the elegant aromas drifting in from the kitchen, it's enough to make the young Gaspari's head spin, and the entranced expression on his face does not hide this. For today's festivities, he has on a closely tailored cotehardie of a vibrant green with silver-blue clasps, cream trousers below, and simple shoes of dark brown.

He arrives not far behind his older brother and sister-in-law, moving at an energetic pace toward the greeting pair at the door. First, to Arabella, he offers a polite smile and nod. "Good day," he begins, "everything seems absolutely lovely." Then, to Cristofano, his smile widens and he spreads his arms in a more familiar way. "And very nice to see you again, conte," he offers when he has the chance to speak with the man.

*

Isabella is there, having arrived with a small contingent of non familial nobility and others that were invited from households but not notables therein. It is also where she is spending her time, speaking with a few of the others and sharing some stories in her Eastern Kingdom accented voice. Her clothing, adorned in the colors of Gaspari, has a slightly foreign flare to them but fall well within the category of Mataoran styles and far less intricate than those Garden wears, even if there is a slight similarity in their stitch. Something Isabella speaks to her group draws out a small giggle of laughter, perhaps a joke of some style.

*

For his matched station with the other nobles in the hall, Conte Vittorio does begin to look a little out of sorts once he's helped himself to his first goblet or two of wine: he is the only Necchi here tonight, only recently returned to Matora, and about a decade or so older than much of those gathered here tonight to boot — so once he bows and says his hellos to the Conte di Sabastino, he makes a curt nod to the Dowager Contessa Beatrice and approaches her with a "Good evening, Signora Contessa," in beginning the night of sublime socialisation.

*

"It does feel forever," Arabella confides to Marsilia. We should go shopping soon. I miss your advice in fashion so very much." She missed more, so much more but that came to mind first! Taking her side back beside Cristofano, she gives him an apologetic smile though this time his arm remains free from confines. The greeting from Lorenzo is met with a like one. "A good day to you as well, Signore, so very pleased you could make it." Her words hold warmth and sincerity. Even Isabella gets a wave from the distance, recognizing her immediately. Keeping to her brothers side though, she realizes there were more to meet and greet and so she does as they come in.

*

Perhaps a little late and certainly entirely alone, Anontella arrives in a gown of deep raspberry red with wine-dark floral embroidery upon the bust and lowest hem. Her sunny blonde hair is all pulled up in loops and braids adorned with ribbons, and her lips have been stained a vibrant red to match the rest of her finery. Wide blue eyes take in the assorted nobility, quickly categorizing potential adventures for the evening, though that exploration ends when she spies a particular familiar face, crimson lips curling quickly into a wide smile. Swift steps draw her toward Beatrice, fingers reaching readily to curl about her mother's left arm. "It's all rather lovely, isn't it?"

*

"Good evening, dear," Beatrice says sunnily. "What a lovely frock." She drains a glass of wine in one long swallow and then abandons it to the tray of a passing servitor, her artfully arranged braids barely shifting despite the vehemence of her turn. "It's quite grand and reminds me of all manner of things I'm terribly glad aren't any of my business ever again, hah. Tell me, who are the rogues and rapscallions about town that a lady of breeding should avoid, and which of them shall I devour for my daughters tonight?"

*

Baldessare has arrived.

*

Amadea has arrived.

*

Since it is, a little predictably, Arabella who initially and most directly accosts them, Vittore greets her first. Or at least, he does so once the sisters have had their own moment together, letting slip from his wife's arm so that the two of them can be closer. "It is nice to see you again," he offers Arabella, "You and your brother have really outdone yourselves here. It should very much be the talk of the town, this gathering. And speaking of, I ought go and tell the Conte hello as well." And so here may in fact somewhat follow her back toward the not far-off Cristofano, though in no rush, as he does seem quite beset by guests. Indeed, when he does say hello, he notes, "You seem under assault here, brother," and he is somewhat audibly still 'trying on' the more familial manner of address they agreed upon the lasat time. "So I won't keep you long. It looks a fine party, though. I spy wine." Which is a good excuse to slip off and leave the man to his greetings! Rather, on the way back to finding Marsilia, he nabs a pair of glasses and brings her one as well.

*

"Signore Lorenzo, my friend!" The Conte di Sabastino's face cracks in a smile, teeth white in contrast to the dark beard that surrounds them. Cristofano darts a hand out to find one of Lorenzo's hand clasps it firmly. "Our head cook seems to have been studying under you…he has been bellowing efficient orders all afternoon. You would be quite proud. If he ever decides to give up cooking he might make a fine captain." He shoots the man a wink, then turns his attention fully on the Conte di Farro and his youngest sister. "Conte Vittore," he begins, then stops himself. "Brother," he offers more awkwardly. "Thank you for coming to our feast. And for bringing our sister whom we miss very much." So saying, he leans in to Marsilia and bestows a gentle kiss on each of her cheeks.

Suddenly, the servant announcing arrivals lifts his voice in an attempt to pierce the din of the hall. "His royal highness, the Prince of Pelcortia!" It would seem the rumors were true. The Prince is here and has decided to attend the feast. After a brief exchange of greetings with his hosts, he moves to take a seat at the table on the raised dais, smiling and in apparent good spirits.

*

Cosimo gently pats Garden's arm as he nods to Cristofano. "We hope you will return the honor by coming to our party next week, but let us not take too much of your time. I'm sure so many others wish to make their pleasantries." He nods to Cristofano and then Arabella. "Conte, Signora." He moves to the side, allowing others access to Cristofano and then turns to lean to his wife, "Who shall we mingle with this evening, my dear? Was there anyone you wanted to speak…" He trails off, glancing over as the Prince is announced. "Ahh, well if you wanted to maybe give a good word to the Prince, now would be a good time, yes?"

*

Orazio is quiet in the party scene- smiling to lovely ladies and nodding his head to the various gentlemen of the city as they pass. His attention, though, falls towards the Prince as he enters. A sip of his wine. A quiet moment of thought.

But then, his attention is caught by something else- eyes pointing up towards the sky as he shifts and finds a place to sit. Somewhere he can look up at the sky- as is typical of any night he goes out. The sky always calls him, eventually, and it is as if he were looking at the love of his life.

Wonder and joy, as he smiles quietly sipping his drink and leaning back to look into the sky and the glittering stars visible above.

*

Better late than never. The Contessa and Conte Capello arrive together, although /barely/. There's a certain distance between them, even if she's on his arm for the sake of appearances, that's a bit like fire and ice. Baldessare, for his part, looks distinctly put out by /something/, although people who know him could argue that's how he usually looks. The two of them are also looking just slightly /disheveled/, and Baldessare is actually smoothing his free hand back over his dark curls to smooth them back as they step inside. Just in time to hear the announcement of the Prince's presence, and his gaze slides sharp to track him at his table.

*

Marsilia is simply pleased to spend even just this little time with her family, though she knows that the night is young and there will be more time during the course of the event to catch up with her family. So with that in mind, she calls out to her sister, "We have quite a bit to discuss and catch up on, but for now, I will not keep you from your guests." And she would have moved on once Vittore returned to her side bringing a gift of wine, if it were not for Cristofano stepping up to properly greet her. Gently, she lifts her chin when her older brother leans in to place a kiss upon her cheeks. "I am just happy to be able to spend time at home even if just for the evening." Taking the offered glass in hand now, she states, "For now, I suppose that I give Vittore a tour of our home. Be well, brother."

*

There's a tip of head and a smile for the Sabastino siblings, but yes- Garden is perfectly all right with leaving the two to further introductions as her husband leads her away. She watches the arrival of the prince with much of the others. There's a quiet, thoughtful sound to her husband. "We'd best," she murmurs softly to him. "Before everyone else or he's too deep into the wine." If he should be the type! She glances around, seeking out Isabella briefly. There's a glance for her maid (and friend) to keep visual tabs on her before joining her husband in making their way to the dais. To either woo or… perhaps embarrass themselves in front of the city's esteemed guest. It could go either way!

*

By Beatrice and Antonella, Conte Vittorio dryly states with some good humour: "I think the Sabastinos have good enough sense to not invite rogues, but sadly not enough for your daughters, Signora, to invite the unmarried lords of refinement. Then there's the din of applause at the announcement at the Prince, and he remarks, "Quite fine for the Sabastinos to have pulled that arrangement off."

*

Amadea is using her free hand to check the lay of her fine dress and to try to coax her hair back into its long luxurious blonde waves, while avoiding looking at her husband at all costs, even though she glides regally on his arm. She also takes note of the Prince, her bright green eyes tracking his path with interest. She looks vaguely flustered, but it's all smoothed away by a veneer of pleasant noble neutrality.

*

"I look so forward to it Marsi. We will have to sneak away for some time soon. Perhaps next week at the latest and maybe even tonight at the earliest." The arrival of the Prince has relieved Arabella of some of her duties as hostess as he takes up the bulk of attention. With mischief, she leans in to give her brother a brief hug. "Tonight is wonderful, Cristof. Everything is so beautiful. I feel like a princess at a ball." Even as the Conte and Contessa di Capello arrive, she prepares to greet them, but the Prince does take the show, quite rightly so.

*

"Why, thank you," Antonella says of the dress, as if she's going to take all the credit for its exquisite existence. More quietly, she notes, "Amanda picked it out." When her mother's glass of wine is surrendered, she plucks one up for herself, drawing it close but not yet partaking. "Isn't that the fun of it?" she asks with arched brows. "Finding the troublemakers in a sea of stiff backs and empty smiles?" Of course, her goal might be entirely contrary to Beatrice's, but she shows no shame in the admission. She does, however, know how to fall properly quiet as the prince's presence is announced, watching with distinct curiosity. Right up until she catches Amadea and Baldessare arriving a little late. There might be a touch of teasing judgment in her eye. It may be a moment late that she turns her attention to Vittorio to remark, "Not half the tragedy you make it sound, Signore."

*

"Pish," Beatrice says with an airy wave of her hand. "Then I shall have to dine on some other manflesh tonight, I suppose," she says, and her smile is a sight, crooked curve at her lips as she reaches to tuck a single thread of Antonella's hair that might have escaped behind her ear. Maybe it was imaginary, you never know. "I don't find empty smiles terribly delicious," she shares in some regret.

*

Lorenzo watches as Cosimo and Garden wander off to enjoy the party, then laughs at Cristofano's mention of the cook. "Well, if this is the case, then I would very much like to meet the man, though Im sure he has his hands full today." This is something he can understand, with the similarities between running a kitchen and a ship being closer than one might think. When the Prince is announced, he turns his attention toward the man moving to the table, but he makes no move to approach him for now. Instead, he says to his host, "I shall move to mingle. Find me if you have a moment away from the pleasantries." And with that, he wanders away, swiping a glass of wine and ending up not from where Orazio is contemplating skyward.

*

"I shall," Cristofano says to Lorenzo, nodding his head and looking for the world like he wishes he could do that right this instant. Instead, however, he hears new guests announced. "Conte and Contessa di Capello," the Conte di Sabastino greets, moving to welcome the newly arrived guests. "You do House Sabastino a great honor in attending our feast. Please," he gestures into the expansive hall. "Be welcome, and if there is anything that I or my House can do to make your evening a pleasant one, please let us know."

*

"It would have been a little strange to come without her," Vittore answers Cristofano in good humor. And naturally, he holds onto the wine a moment longer as the cheek-kissing is going on. This is what husbands are truly for: holding drinks! "Once you are a little less overwhelmed with hospitality, perhaps you can find some time. Though you're quite right," he answers Arabella in turn, "We'll have to have you both over for something a little less grand." And indeed, this seems Marsilia's plan too, so things are more or less in agreement. "Where did Orazio get to?" he then wonders, peering around a little to see where his brother has gotten to. "Shall we find a place to-" Oh, but then there's the Prince's arrival, which draws a momentary stare. "And now someone else for the crowds to swarm. Shall we go and say hello as well, or wait it out?"

*

"Very well." Cosimo says, nodding to Garden. He leads her in the direction of the Prince, nodding and smiling to the various nobles as they move through the crowd. Upon reaching the Prince, Cosimo offers a deep bow. "Your Highness, I am Conte Cosimo di Gaspari, and this is my wife, Contessa Garden, originally from Avicorse. Please permit me to welcome you to Matora." He continues with some more pleasantries, before allowing Garden to speak her own. Once she has, he nods once more to the Prince and says, "We will not take up too much of your time, we hope you have enjoyed your time in Matora thusfar and that you continue to." Another bow, and he moves aside to let some others come and give their greetings to the Prince. He turns to Garden. "Was there anyone in particular you wished to speak to tonight, my dear?"

*

(>-------<)
| Cosimo (Courtesy) |
| -----— |
| Failed |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 10 Mod: 0 Total: 10 |
| Roll: 16 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

"Most wonderful." Orazio says to himself, as he pulls a piece of charcoal and a small notebook from his pocket and starts to draw- first, dots. Dots that match the stars from his vantage point. A sip of wine- and then back to his own private world.

"Fantastic.." he whispers to himself, as he then begins to connect the dots- drawing something he's seen in the sky from the windows of the great hall. The hall itself comes soon in- a ghost of a figure there, looking out the window.

"And in the sky shall you see me. And in the heavens will my face be seen.." Orazio whispers to himself, "As a Paragon is above all, so shall I be heralded in the firelight of the stars and in the beauty of the night…" just quietly whispering ot himself as he drinks and goes back to his everyday life of art and Astronomy.

*

(>-------<)
| Orazio (Industry) |
| -----— |
| Failed |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 10 Mod: 0 Total: 10 |
| Roll: 11 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

"No, other than perhaps the string of well-behaved folk being too bland for my signora's tastes," Vittorio purses his lips at the Capellos and is a little exhausted by just a touch of amusement, it seems. And yet he finds himself lost again; in spite of his great stature each noble he comes across is someone he -almost- knows, just as each and every guest starts to make their own ways about the palazzo.

*

Baldessare already looks on the hunt for a glass of wine, but propriety forces him to introduces first: he offers Cristofano a tightly polite smile. "Conte Sabastino. I hope you'll excuse our tardiness. I will only say that it was not my fault." Whose was it? He's totally not saying, except his implications are most definitely at high silent volume. He offers him a bow; it lacks flourish, but it's graceful and more than adequate.

*

Amadea drops a polite curtsey as Baldessare bows, the expression on her face suggesting that she has a much different story than her husband about their lateness. "In any case," she says primly. "We are here, and delighted to be, Conte Sebastino. I note that other members of my family are present. We are all delighted to enjoy the feast." There's a pause, and without looking at the man she is married to, she suggests, "Perhaps wine, my love?" It's a bitter question, and there is clearly no right answer.

*

Isabella of the Gaspari's continues to make her small talk amongst the other house staff that have come, moving from group to group with pleasantries and stories. Her small talk done with a smile on her darker features and gentle laughter pushing through once in awhile. Offers of drink however are declined, politiely of course, as she mingles. An occassional scan of the crowd is conducted, checking the locations of the assosciations she knows, a momentary glance towards the dias with an almost impish grin upon spotting the Prince there.

*

After her husband has spoken, Garden does step up a bit closer herself. Not too close so as to alarm anyone, but. "Your Highness, it is wonderful to see you out and about. There had been some concern to hear you in the Inn so much of late. It is a pleasure for all of us to have you present at this feast. Hopefully you will join us later. Perhaps to enjoy some local fare, though… Admittedly, I am still learning much of it, myself." Why not put on a bit of the foreigner act, herself?! If she can lean into it a bit, it might be worth it. It might inform a little of the Prince's leanings and interests. Really, she's not as good at the overt plays as the locals. Manipulation is much better for them.

*

(>-------<)
| Garden (Flirting) |
| -----— |
| Failed |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 6 Mod: 0 Total: 6 |
| Roll: 14 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

Antonella breathes a quiet laugh for Vittorio's words as she watches all those well-behaved folks do as well-behaved folks do. When she spots the oddity, the one not quite doing as the rest of the world does, she gestures with her wine glass thattaway. Toward Orazio. "The sky-poet," she tells Beatrice. As she draws her glass back, she finally partakes of her wine, a contented sigh following that first tasty sip. "I'm not sure if he can properly be called either rogue or rapscallion. A Farro, if I recall correctly."

*

Moving through the crowd, her own gaze seeking out her brother-in-law now, just as Vittore brings him up, Marsilia's eyes do eventually wander in the Prince's direction as many others have done the same. "If one can even reach him through this crowd." She lightly jests to her husband. "But it is only proper to present ourselves to him at some point this evening." So with those words, she makes her way slowly in the direction of where the guest of honor is seated, knowing full well that Vittore would follow. Orazio is forgotten for now!

*

Baldessare has left.

*

Baldessare has arrived.

*

Livia has arrived.

*

"Oh, I see," Beatrice says with a low laugh, skirt flaring outward in a whirl of roseate silk. "The scientist with his instrument. I expect that shall be /some/ measure of entertainment at least. Though I can't abide the taste of poets. Verse really sticks in my teeth."

*

Amanda has arrived.

*

Lorenzo first swirls his wine around in its delicate glass, eyeing the line of nobles who take their turns to present themselves to the king. Better for him to wait on that, he thinks, and his first long sip of wine seems to agree with him. So, his attention wanders, seeking something more pleasurable for the moment. Perhaps one of the Sabastino hounds, or even…"What is it you have there?" he asks of Orazio, the man being near to him after all. With an amused look on his face, he considers the drawing and takes a step closer.

*

His greeting complete for the moment, Conte Cristofano is approached by a servant who has been waiting anxiously in the shadows. A whispered word is offered to the nobleman and he nods concisely by way of response. The servant scurries away and not too long after the blare of a trumpet cuts through the din of the party suddenly. Servants of House Sabastino stream through from the kitchens, resplendent in red and silver, each bearing a tray, bowl, platter, or tureen. Soup made from the first mushrooms through the forest floor are placed on the table along with risottos of spring vegetables, freshly baked bread, and braised leeks. The centerpiece of the meal, however, are the large platters of spit-roasted lamb, garnished with mint. While guests may continue to mingle, food is availble for those who wish to sit and eat it.

*

The voice calling to him shifts his attention and a stray line on his drawing. He looks down, "Dammit." he mumbles to himself, "Nothing now." he offers to Lorenzo, as he tugs the piece of paper from the notebook, crumples it and tosses it to the ground. A servant will take care of that trash. "I thought I saw something in the window. Lost now. Gone on the aether, I suppose." he waves his hand, "Still, one of my favorite constellations is through that window." he points quietly, "I call her the Lady of Matora."

*

Drawn along by his wife, and encouraged to go and say their hellos, Vittore starts making his way over to the Prince as well. Though he does make some effort to see if he can spot his brother on the way. And indeed, he's able to pick out Orazio doing what an Orazio does, which is to say, he finds him sketching. "Ah, there you are, brother. Do you want to come with us and say hello to our visiting dignitary?" Whether he joins or not, he will eventually follow Marsilia's lead, and taking his place in whatever queue there is to greet the man, eventually finds his own chance to do so. "Your Highness, if I might introduce myself, I am Conte Vittore di Farro, while the beauty beside me is my wife, Marsilia - formerly di Sabastino. I hope your travels have been comfortable, and that whatever troubles have driven you to seek a place here, you find our city most welcoming." He may have further questions, too, about the circumstances of his flight, though in the moment, the man does not linger overlong as other guests make their own greetings.

*

(>-------<)
| Vittore (Courtesy) |
| -----— |
| Failed |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 10 Mod: 0 Total: 10 |
| Roll: 11 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

While others take the time to speak with the Prince, Arabella hangs back some and speaks with a few others that are back there with her. There is some soft laughter before the two ladies go off to join their family and she returns nearby Cristofano to quietly speak with him. Once she has, she remains at his side until he dismisses her, but she does not depart until then.

*

"Yes, I was /looking for it/," Baldessare replies to his wife just a /bit/ snappishly. And there's a servant with a tray, and now he has /wine in hand/, and maybe the evening will be a bit more tolerable. He downs a healthy swallow of it to start and eyes the retinue surrounding the Prince with the sort of begrudging reluctance that suggests he knows he's going to be expected to greet him.

*

"Perhaps you simply haven't found the right meter, mama," Antonella suggests, as if there were a trick to gobbling up poets. She spends a moment staring across the crowd at Orazio and Lorenzo, curiosity piqued by the frustration on display. Her gaze brightens when Vittore and Marsilia drift into her field of vision, and, for the first time since arriving, it looks as if she might separate from Beatrice and forge off on her own. However, her attention is stolen by the servants trailing in with their laden trays, by the scent of roast lamb and baked bread. That's a temptation she simply can't resist. It would be discourteous to do so, after all! And so it is that, with a squeeze to her mother's arm before she separates, she drifts off toward the appropriate table to settle in to eat.

*

Arriving a touch late and not seeming to mind her own tardiness one bit is Amanda di Capello. The signore is dressed today in white: beautiful, perfect white, white a touch of blood red to keep things interesting. The blonde's lips are painted just the same - blood red - and her hair pulled back in a severe bun. She is looking wholly impeccable and entirely put together. Inside, she pauses, to gaze idly over the crowd.

*

Cristofano leans in to listen to a whisper from his sister and then nods, escorting her to the table where they take seats at the table with the Prince. The Conte opens his mouth to speak and is embarrassed a moment later when his stomach offers a rumble instead of words, his body responding to the delicious smelling food being laid out. "I am sure your highness is accustomed to much finer food and lodging than we can offer here, but it is my hope that we are, perhaps a step up from an inn, however finly appointed. I do hope you will consider our offer to have you stay with us. It is meant genuinely."

*

(>-------<)
| Cristofano (Manipulate) |
| -----— |
| Critical Success! |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 8 Mod: 0 Total: 8 |
| Roll: 8 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

Beatrice pats Antonella's back as she escapes, and then excuses herself with mild courtesy to drift amongst the people and crowds, her skirts whispering against the floor. The pink she wears splits the difference between the deep red and the brilliant white of her daughters present. She contemplates her next target with some thought in the slight narrowing of her gaze, and then begins a kind of haphazardly directed drift in the vague direction of the royal-occupied table. Oh no, who knows what she's going to do there? Someone stop this impending disaster.

*

Breaking from his temporary companions to go meet the Prince, it's Vittorio's turn for another grand introduction afore the royal scion — though it does take at least some restraint when the feast is laid before them; Vittorio being quite well acquainted to good food in spite of his lean figure: he's the Conte of wine and grain, isn't he?

But then the Necchi approaches the royal, bowing to show his respect of their different stations: "My prince. I am the Conte Vittorio Celestino di Necchi; on behalf of my estate it's my utmost pleasure to make your fine acquaintance."

*

(>-------<)
| Vittorio (Courtesy) |
| -----— |
| Failed |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 3 Mod: 0 Total: 3 |
| Roll: 14 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

Noticing that his voice may have ruined whatever of Orazio's work was just going on, Lorenzo winces and watches the crumpled paper fall to the floor. It's just a momentary stray from his otherwise pleasant demeanor, though, much like the charcoal streak itself. "You don't say," Lorenzo muses, casting his own gaze skyward to see if he might catch a glimpse of this so-called Lady of Matora. "I see no Matoran up there," he admits, shrugging, "Though it would not be the first time I have failed to perceive what is plainly there to others."

*

"You hardly look beyond your own nose," Amadea replies dryly to Baldessare, and she might roll her eyes, but it's hard to tell, the way she changes the focus of her gaze to accept her own glass of wine. "Come, then, dearest husband," she says with a measure of annoyance to her husband. "Let us go make our introductions to the Prince, shall we?" It's not optional; she's heading that way, and she's on his arm. It's never quite clear who is actually leading.

*

(>-------<)
| Orazio (Science) |
| -----— |
| Success |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 15 Mod: 0 Total: 15 |
| Roll: 8 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

Oh there Orazio is, but there is little time for discussion when there is a dignitary to greet, Marsilia supposes. That is not to say that she doesn't notice anyone else as both she and her husband make their way through the masses and through all of this, she does find some familiar faces. Vittore speaks up first, introducing the pair to their regal guest, leaving Marsilia with very little else to do but lower herself into a flourishing curtsy, her gaze lowered in the man's presence, "It's a pleasure to meet you, your highness. I hope that you enjoy the wonder food and company this evening." She then rises to stand and moves elegantly out of the way as possible as more and more people come to pay their respects to the Prince.

*

(>-------<)
| Marsilia (Courtesy) |
| -----— |
| Success |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 10 Mod: 0 Total: 10 |
| Roll: 1 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

Once her brother has spoken, Arabella wisely remains silent though a warm smile is offered the Prince. In no way does she attempt to keep his attention on her, simply leaving that to her brother and those far more talented in the social niceties required in situations such as these. The food is brought and she nods to the servant, indicating the Prince first then Cristof, then the rest of those at the table. Likewise at the other tables, servants are doing the exact same thing there, offering food, plates, wine. The music has slowed slightly to aid in the digestion of the meal, but the musicians are incredible and the tunes are lovely.

*

"/Everything is beyond my own nose/, of course I look at it—" Baldessare mutters sharply to his wife as he finds himself firmly directed towards the dais that is likely currently surrounded by nobles wishing to make an impression. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.

*

"A fresh drink, my Lady?" Livia turns up suddenly at Beatrice's elbow. Disaster averted; or at least delayed. She has a full glass in her hand, which she offers to the Dowager Contessa as she falls into easy step with her. "How have the royal introductions been proceeding?" she asks with a glance toward the Prince.

*

"She isn't so hard to see." Quintin says, "However, there is a trick to it." he notes, "You have to look between the stars to see her." he continues, "Because the dim stars are the parts that make her appear. It is the hidden spark behind her eyes, like a lady of Matora." he explains.

"Here. Sit here." Orazio begins, moving to the side- "And look up at that window. Now, you see those three bright stars?" he asks, "Look just under them. There is a fourth star, hidden in the radiance of the diamond tiara…"

*

Cosimo leads Garden away and he leans over and murmurs. "Well, I think we both could have done better, but lets see what else can happen this evening, hmm?" He lifts her hand and lightly kisses her palm. "Oh, I may have said it once already this evening, but you are looking especially lovely this evening." Already, his eyes begin to roam over the room. As he and his wife hadn't gone too far away from the Prince, he idly watches as the other nobles make their introductions. "I would like to say that being one of the first to do so would mean making an impression, but I believe I could have chosen some of my words better." He admits quietly to Garden. "But come, let me introduce you to another." And he heads towards Vittore, seeing the man finish his introductions to the Prince and moving aside. "Conte Vittore, good seeing you again. Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Contessa Garden, formerly of Avicorse." He nods to the line of people in front of the prince. "I saw you introduce yourself. What do you make of our royal visitor?"

*

Elizabetta has arrived.

*

Enzo has arrived.

*

Vittorio's greeting isn't received all too well, but the Conte's pride always did show itself in more arrogance than courteous formalities. Thinking it an appropriate moment to dig into his supper, the Necchi loses himself in the ebb and flow of sterling conversation and the wafting smells of fresh food.

*

Amanda skirts along the perimeter of the room, until she can find some wine. Having secured that, she seems inclined to stay toward the outskirts of this party, sipping, staring… judging.

*

Upon arriving at the location of the prince, Amadea offers the man a curtsey and a polite smile. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Highness," she offers. "I am Contessa Amadea Capello, and this is my beloved husband Conte Baldessare Capello. If you'd like to chat more, we'd love to receive you at the Palazzo Capello, at your convenience." If her husband has nothing left to say, then they can head towards the food.

*

(>-------<)
| Amadea (Courtesy) |
| -----— |
| Success |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 10 Mod: 0 Total: 10 |
| Roll: 5 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

"Oh, to the saints with them; I haven't made any. I am sure dearest Amadea is /more/ than capable and that is why that isn't my bloody job anymore." Beatrice turns back to Livia with a widening smile, and reaches for the drink. "You're a gift, my dear, simply a gift. It's been a whole minute since I had a drink in my head. Glorious spread, isn't it? Have you eaten?"

*

(>-------<)
| Baldessare (Courtesy) |
| -----— |
| Failed |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 3 Mod: 0 Total: 3 |
| Roll: 19 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

Once they'fe finished playing polite, Vittore steps back, and offers Marsilia an appreciative smile. "Well, that went… You were lovely as ever, my dear." Teamwork! Obviously they didn't succeed in dragging his brother along to be social, and now the whole room seems their oyster - or at least, they've met their most essential social obligations and are a bit freer to mingle. Which seems well-timed, as 'lo, a wild Cosimo appears, or at least approaches. "Ah, Conte di Gaspari, and this is the foreign signora we have heard so much about. Contessa, it is a pleasure. Let me introduce my wife as well, Contessa Marsilia di Farro." When all are introduced, he finally casts a glance back to where the line of people before the Prince remains quiet impressive. "I don't know. Cautious perhaps, and shrewd. It strikes me that he has come to get the measure of us as much as we might of him. Sensible, if he is trying to find allies in whatever local plight has driven him here."

*

While Amadea is lovely and gracious, probably with the perfect curtsy, Baldessare mostly looks distracted. "Your highness," he says, pulling his gaze in to focus on the prince and offering a stiff bow before Amadea leads him off. Probably in a slight rush after her husband's display. Can't take him anywhere.

*

Lorenzo can tell he's going to need a bit more wine for this one, but he's intrigued by Orazio enough to join the man in scrutinizing the heavens. After another generous helping of the red, he settles down onto the offered space and allows his head to fall back. "Let's see, then," he says, focusing in on the region of stars he believes the other man to be leading him to. His eyes squint and his face scrunches a bit, but he eventually says, "Yes, I *think* I see the three you mention, but…" It's not a moment later that he scoffs and drops his head with a bashful smirk. "I'm afraid the fourth eludes me. I'll no doubt be after this lady all night, though."

*

"Maybe you should have done it," Livia tells Beatrice quietly, though she sounds amused, as she watches Baldessare make his introductions. Then she turns to Beatrice to return the Dowager's smile. "You'd say that to anyone who brought you a new drink." Her dimple dimples. "I haven't had anything, no," she answers. "Would you like something? I'd be happy to fetch it."

*

Better late than never, right? Elizabetta di Arbore makes her way in, taking in the scope of the celebration. Is there a receiving line? Yes? Good. She situates herself at the back end of it, offering nods and smiles, curtseys and the like to the swarm around her. The Conte di Arbore does not appear to be in attendance tonight; but then so often he is not.

*

"The canapes are excellent and the lamb smells delicious, but there are servants here whose job it is to do that, Livia. Do you think we should attempt to salve the damage?" Beatrice turns a studious look after Amadea and her husband with a faint frown as she attempts to assess whatever it is Livia has seen there, hampering herself by taking a long swallow of the wine as she does so.

*

Garden has left.

*

"Here. There is a trick.." Orazio says, as he pulls another piece of paper from his notebook and rolls it very tightly into a circle. A pinpoint, really. "Okay, so, hold this tightly and find the bright star in the middle. CLose your eye, and then just let it slide lower- a small amount. A finger nail's width." he offers, "Once you see the star, you'll be able to see her sister, not far to the left. These are the eyes of the Lady. They're dimmer, but no less fantastic. They hide their beauty, perhaps behind a veil. You have to *look* for the eyes. Seek them out. The diamonds outshine them, yes, but these eyes. My friend, such beautiful eyes you have never seen."

*

"Come, Conte," Amadea says to her husband, clearly displeased by his performance. "Let us get something to eat. The lamb smells very good, doesn't it? The whole room has taken on a minty scent," she suggests, motioning towards a table for eating with her wine glass, which she is holding on to tightly. She takes a drink of wine, pretending to relax. "I suppose we could even go talk to Mother."

*

"Ah, good to see you again as well, Contessa." Cosimo says to Marsilia with a smile. He listens to Vittore's observations with a slight tilt to his head, offering a single nod before saying, "I agree. It will be interesting once we have more details about his departure from his lands, his business here and whatever else may also be involved. Still, some room for some opportunities to further Matora's interests possibly." Garden offers apologies before murmuring something in Cosimo's ear. He nods to her and turns to Vittore and Marisilia. "My dear wife wanted to take some time getting some air in the gardens. I believe I shall join her, but I hope you both have an enjoyable evening and hope we can speak again soon."

*

"The Prince is quite pleasant." Marsilia says to her husband as he escorts her through the crowd once more, passing by the others who wish to have a word with the dignitary. She doesn't seem overly ruffled by the experience and looks to be rather pleased how things went off. As before, she scans the room on her way, though just as her eyes land upon Cosimo and his wife, the Conte meets with them in their journey. "Conte di Gaspari," She starts, offering a curtsey in greeting, though her eyes grow all the more curious when she is introduced to the man's wife, "Contessa, it's so wonderful to finally meet with you." As politely as she can, she silently assesses the woman's attire for foreign fashion does pique her interest somewhat. But just like that, the meeting is brief and she doesn't blame the others for wanting some fresh air. In fact, she believes it to be a good idea.

*

Cosimo leaves, heading towards the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino [CY].

*

Cosimo has left.

*

(>-------<)
| Amanda (Manipulate) |
| -----— |
| Success |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 15 Mod: 0 Total: 15 |
| Roll: 8 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

Livia hums a thoughtful noise, looking to Baldessare and Amadea with deliberation. "No," she decides. "I'm not sure you could do anything but draw further attention to it." With a light touch to Beatrice's elbow, Livia attempts to turn her away from the Prince and toward - well, anywhere else. Though not before watching Amanda's introduction with a approving nod. "Ah, look, Lady Amanda has sorted it out."

*

As their guests tuck in to food and more intimate conversation, Cristofano watches from his place at the high table. Judging the time to be appropriate, however, he rises and lifts his glass for silence. When the din is relatively diminished, he says in a rumbling bass voice, "Good evening to you all, and welcome to Palazzo Sabastino. Tonight we toast each other and the glorious Spring wherein we are reminded of the bounty and compassion of the divine. Let us work together to make Matora strong against her enemies, that we may all prosper." So saying, he hoists his cup and then drinks deeply of it.

*

Lorenzo pauses to eye the rolled up piece of paper. He seems unconvinced by Orazio's words, but after a moment laughs and sets his glass aside for later. Taking the paper, he inclines his chin toward the man and says, "Well, when you put it as elegantly as that, how can I give up?" And so he tries again, shutting one eye and placing the rolled paper in front of the other. It takes a moment to target the trio of bright stars from before, but he eventually finds them. Then, after a gentle movement, the makeshift device helps guide him to the dim stars in question. "Huh," he comments at first. "She does exist."

*

Well, she's here! And seemingly without commitment, and no one to bother. So Amanda dutifully waits her turn, watching her family come and go, then slips up to the prince. That smile, that look in her eye, it's all so well done. Soon, she's laughing softly. Then leans in to murmur a few words, and give a roll of her eyes toward /someone/… whose name is surely not Baldessare. "A please, your majesty," she says. "Do let me know if Capello can do anything for you." Then with one more beatific smile, she turns off, and starts over toward Livia and Beatrice. "Signore, miss Livia," she says, respectful and proper. "Shall we get some air?"

*

(>-------<)
| Elizabetta (Manipulate) |
| -----— |
| Success |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 15 Mod: 0 Total: 15 |
| Roll: 14 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

"Oh, well, that was predictable," Beatrice says crisply, and sniffs general judgment as she gathers her roseate skirts in the twine of her perfectly manicured fingers, preparatory to swooping across the room like a handsome, pink-clad vulture. And then Amanda is here. "I was going to get some /meat/, cara mia, but I suppose I do not object to the idea of air, either."

*

An eating Antonella is a quiet Antonella. Surely, this is why no one's heard a peep from the pretty blonde dressed all in red. Her mouth's been too full of lamb and risotto and all manner of other loveliness. Surely, she's been quietly watching the party play out around her, watching all those introductions to the Prince one after another. It's when Cristofano calls attention his way that she finally focuses on one thing and gives her meal a moment to rest. Lifting her glass of wine, she joins in the toast, drinking heartily.

*

Having been circulating among the guests, Enzo nods to the various people present as he passes them. For now, he's just moving around, without really stopping anywhere. He comes to a stop as he hears Cristofano's words, smiling as he nods in agreement.

*

When it's finally Elizabetta's turn to speak to the prince, she does so quietly, with a smile on her face and vague gestures, perhaps inviting him to come to the Arbore palazzo and witness for himself the family's most recent innovations. Regardless of the outcome, she seems to think it has ended well once she is finally dismissed. Once more amongst the throng, she plucks up a cup of wine and takes a sip, espying a friendly face. "Enzo, my friend! How goes your stargazing these days? You should come to the tower so we can build a ladder and place you closer to the heavens."

*

Arabella is seated with Cristofano and all seem to be enjoying the meal. She eats only a bit before restlessness finds her. "I wish the dancing would start," she says wistfully to Cristof. Remaining in her seat, she sips her wine which is not to the same strength as her brothers, and quite deliberately. As she notices Enzo, she smiles to notice him with a young lady and she gives him a look of approval. The toast is had and she does drink more from her goblet, she is very comfortable with her position within the house and with her family, though now and again she seeks out her sister just to see her, and sighs softly.

*

"Once you see the eyes, she will come into focus. See her eyes and the rest of her comes into focus." Orazio explains again, "Without the eyes, she isn't there- they may be the dimmest stars in the constellation, but they are the most vital. IF you do not see the Lady's eyes, she does not exist. Always, my friend, always pay attention to the eyes. They make the picture."

Orazio is in his own world most of the time, "See. Like with art." he begins, as he again turns back to hsi pad with his piece of charcoal- he draws some eyes. Smokey eyes. Lovely eyes. It isn't difficult, really- "The eyes, my friend, that is where the secret is. The eyes have it."

*

Baldessare does lift his glass when the host toasts, but for the moment he's mostly being led and directed by his wife. Hopefully he will loosen up a bit by the end of the evening.

*

Baldessare has left.

*

Well, it seems that introduction and discussion passes quickly enough, once more leaving Vittore and his wife to consider the crowd and where they might strike off to next. "Is there anyone you'd care to speak with, dear? Perhaps even your siblings might find themselves a bit freed from their obligations now." Or perhaps not, as things turn toward the imminent toast and with it one would presume the proper opening of the feast itself. So thereabouts he finds them both their seats, refills his cup, and raises it to Cristofano's words. "Oh, I see your sister does keep looking over. Well, once we're on to the dancing, perhaps you can catch her before too many of the young men do." Which may also be an excuse to keep him from having to do too much of it himself.

*

(>-------<)
| Orazio (Industry) |
| -----— |
| Fumble! |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 10 Mod: 0 Total: 10 |
| Roll: 20 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

Livia dips into a slight curtsey - more of an indication of a curtsey than an actual curtsey - as Amanda approaches. "Signora." There's a repressed smile on her lips, and her eyes gleam appreciatively at the younger Capello. "That was well done." As for the question, she looks over to Beatrice, allowing the Dowager to answer the question. "I can bring some food for you, if both appeal."

*

When it's finally Elizabetta's turn to speak to the prince, she does so quietly, with a smile on her face and vague gestures, perhaps inviting him to come to the Arbore palazzo and witness for himself the family's most recent innovations. Regardless of the outcome, she seems to think it has ended well once she is finally dismissed. Once more amongst the throng, she plucks up a cup of wine and takes a sip, espying a friendly face. "Orazio, my friend! How goes your stargazing these days? You should come to the tower so we can build a ladder and place you closer to the heavens."

*

It's hard to say whether there is an actual humanoid shape up there or if Lorenzo simply wishes to find something, but he does stare a moment longer, listening to Orazio's words, until the toast is made. "Ah," he says, dropping the hand holding the rolled paper and reaching for his wine. He stands, downs the drink to Cristofano's words, and turns to Orazio and peers at his new drawing. "I, um, can't admit to having a mind for art," he says tactfully, "but food is another matter entirely. Join me?" His suggestion comes with a nod to the tables lined with lamb and other treats.

*

*Snap!* Orazio's charcoal breaks- his hand smudging the drawing. "Dammit." he grumbles to himself, folding up the notebook and putting it away since his charcoal has decided to break. "Oh! Food, yes- always a good idea at a party." he says, before his attention turns towards Elizabetta, "Ah! Well, I will not bore you with the specifics, my dear." he says to Elizabetta, "Have you met… " Orazio's eyebrows knit together and he leans towards Lorenzo, "I realize we haven't introduced ourselves. I am Orazio di Farro. That is Elizabetta di Arbore." he offers with a smile towards the woman, and then back to Lorenzo, "We were going to eat- join us, yes?"

*

"The dancing will start soon, I am sure, once all have had their fill." Brown eyes scanning the crowd and those men who might be available, Cristofano leans closer to his sister and mumurs, "Who is to be your first victim?" He hides his smile behind a generous sip of wine.

*

It's a nice sort of quiet that comes upon her once her brother gains the attention of his guests in order to raise a toast. There was far too much chaos around her for Marsilia's taste, but soon enough it all starts up again and thus the young woman takes a much needed sip from her wine glass. Vittore's inquiry does gain her attention and it doesn't take too long for her to know exactly who she would like to speak to. It seems that her husband has picked up on this as well. "A marvelous idea," She commends him when he mentions seeking out Arabella. "The dancing should be starting at any moment now, though I'm sure that my dear sister would like to partake in such festivities herself." As Vittore seems to also have an understanding of. So with that in mind, she steps forward to meet with her sister before the dance begins, even if just for a brief moment.

*

Amadea has left.

*

Arabella does take a look around when Cristofano murmurs to her. Her smile is immediate and she leans her shoulder to his. "Either you or Enzo. Alvise?" Naming the three of her brothers. Her own wine is given attention again, a brief sip. As she seeks out Marsilia, she notices her approaching and she smiles with delight, getting to her feet. "Cristof, Marsi is coming to join us." She scoots her chair over to leave room between herself and Cristof for Marsilia to see both of them and gives her a gentle hug of welcome when she approaches.

*

"It's not a bore, in my family it's supper conversation." Elizabetta says with a grin, and turns her attention to Lorenzo. "A pleasure." she says easily. "Quite th party isn't it? Have you had a chance to meet the prince?"

*

Cristofano has partially disconnected.

*

Raffiano arrives from the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino.

*

Raffiano has arrived.

*

Enzo conitnues his circulation, offering nods and smiles to the various people as he passes them. Heading over in the general direction of his siblings now. He takes his time to get there, though.

*

When Arabella calls his attention to the approach of their sister, he laughs, his eyes lifting tot Vittore. "I promise you are not invisible, Conte. You may take my seat to join us. I have been sitting too long anyway." He offers a smile, then bestows it upon Marsilia. "You look beautiful. Your husband must love you a great deal." His eyes dance past her to the approaching Enzo and his nearset brother gets a wave and a hearty clap to the back. "About time. /You/ get to do all of the dishes."

*

"Lorenzo di Gaspari," is his curt introduction to both Orazio and Elizabetta. "It's a pleasure to meet you both." With an eye to the table of food, he smiles and says, "Everything looks and smells amazing, but no," he tells Elizabetta, "I have not yet introduced myself to the prince. If you two would be kind enough to hold a seat for me, I'll do that at once and join you shortly after." He turns to hand the rolled paper back to Orazio and then looks for some more wine that he can get on the way to the Prince.

*

"Well then… let us go for a walk?" Amanda offers up. She waits for an appropriate moment, then gives a little wave to her sister, Antonella, across the room. Then back to Livia and Beatrice. "Shall we?" she asks. She's hardly waiting for a response before heading on out.

*

Amanda leaves, heading towards the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino [CY].

*

Amanda has left.

*

"The place looks magnificent." Marsilia says over hugs as she is greeted by her sister, a genuine smile forming on her lips. "I thought that I would meet with you briefly now before we lose you to the ballroom floor." She says in a mild teasing to Arabella, knowing her sister well enough. "I would love to hear what mischief you have been up to since my departure." Looking to Cristofano now, she ponders then states, "I doubt that our brother will relay such information." Not being the sort to gossip and all! Her husband being brought up now, she turns to look over a shoulder at the young Conte all by himself now. "He's been very helpful in my transition into married life. His family as wel.." There is a pause before she can complete her sentence in full, just as one of her brother's calls out to the other. "There he is~" She speaks of Enzo.

*

"There's a prince here?" Orazio asks, as if he had no idea. He probably doesn't. He's not known for his rapier sharp observation skills when the stars aren't involved. "A prince of what?" he asks, next, as he approaches the buffet with Lorenzo and Elizabetta.

"Oh, well, currently I'm continuing the study on the transits of the wandering stars. I've gotten the angular distances down fairly well this season. WIth the previous three or four seasons, I'm starting to get some wonderful data in figuring out how and where they go. I still need more data to make any real predictions as to their transits across the sky. I'm thinking another ten, or fifteen seasons and I can start to make some very accurate predictions. So far, my predictions are off by a margin of over fifteen percent. It isn't particularly accurate, but I only have five seasons of data."

*

Beatrice leaves, heading towards the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino [CY].

*

Beatrice has left.

*

Livia leaves, heading towards the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino [CY].

*

Livia has left.

*

Late, with no sense of fasion really, Raffiano di Albrici arrives at whatever it is that's going on now. He's dressed up for the event in splended rich burnt sienna, a tribute to house colors without being too bright. If some herald is at the door, he nods a thanks and waves any formal things that might happen other than to know where he should sit as an Albrici of course. It sounds like enough conversation and fare is going on, no one would hardly notice him. So he casually skirts the outter wall of the hall, more looking at his outfit and brushing off something like a dog hair or something that stuck to the fabric while on his way in. Then he cougs and, finally, looks around. Giving a sleeve a tug, not to be more presentable but as if uncomfortable looking all fancy. His not-really-luxurious hair is actually worn in a kept fashion, tied behind his head and all in order rather than dangling in his face. He knows a few faces and offer smiles around. For Arabella though, he looks surprised, like a 'you clean up well' sort of mock gesture as he stands nearer recesses than anywhere to actually draw attention to himself.

*

"Don't worry about it, 'Razio." Elizabetta says kindly. She seems well accustomed to the absent-minded sorts, probably because the Conte is one of them. "Let's do as Lorenzo suggests, hey? He'll be back soon."

*

Antonella makes a face when she catches that wave from Amanda. She was just about to start in on seconds. And there's all this talk of dancing! But one does not disappoint Amanda Capello, and so it is that Antonella fixes herself a little plate of easily snacked upon treats, rises from her seat and starts off toward the courtyard.

*

Antonella leaves, heading towards the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino [CY].

*

Antonella has left.

*

"Oh Marsilia, I have been more lonely without you. I shop more though and I have made quite some money betting on cards." Arabella sounds proud of that even if she knows her brother would likely not care to know that. "You look so beautiful tonight, but you always did manage to outshine everyone." Spoken with a depth of truth to the words, Bella truly believes them to be true. "Cristofano was late!" A smile given to the older of her brothers. "And Enzo tried to make himself invisible." Catching sight of Raffiano, she smiles, dipping her head in welcome, but she was on the dais at the back so she calls out no greeting.

*

Vittorio has left.

*

"The dishes, hmmm?" Enzo replies with a grin. "I'm sure I could do that. I will not guarantee the result, though." It's said with a chuckle, before he looks between all the three of his siblings. "All is well?" he asks, with a smile, before he grins at Arabella. "Making myself invisible? Somehow I think that is quite hard."

*

Antonella arrives from the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino.

*

Antonella has arrived.

*

"The work is good, though, Liza." Orazio offers to his friend, "You should see the work I've been doing on angular distances- the mathematics are just as interesting as the stars themselves. And vital to the task at hand!" he explains, "Had I not broken my charcoal, I'd show you some of the formula I've been working on. I think you'd find them quite interesting. I am sure your brother would."

"Anyways, I'm starting to suspect that the wandering stars orbit something- a center point- but I'm not sure what that point is, as of yet. I do not believe, though, it is our planet. The math doesn't quite add up for that. I've been doing experiments in my observatory out on the Island- the tower there is perfect for the work, and I have in place sextants that allow for me to better measure the angular distances- anyways, not important- their movement suggests that they're moving around something."

*

"Mmm. Good point," Cristofano says to Enzo. "I don't think we want you doing the dishes." Just then, then musicians on the mezzanine receive a cue, and the music which has been playing softly and in more lyrical fashion, strikes up a lively tune for dance. The Conte's eyes slip to his sisters, particularly Arabella. "It seems you have your wish." His hand goes to Enzo's back, and he pushes his brother toward Arabella. "If you will excuse me, I am going to step into the garden for some fresh air."

*

Lorenzo listens to Orazio's explanation of what hes working on as the three move toward the display of food, looking both curious and confused by what he hears. There will be time to hear more, though, after paying his belated respects to the Prince of Pelcortia. "Be with you momentarily," he tells Orazio and Elizabetta before taking his leave. Meandering in that direction, he spots a place with fresh glasses of wine, from which he trades his empty glass for one filled with red. Moments later, he finds himself in front of the raised table where the prince sits. "Might I introduce myself, Lorenzo di Gaspari," he says, placing a hand on his chest and bowing slightly. "I won't take but a moment away from your enjoyment of this fine meal, but allow me to welcome you to Matora. It's an honor to have you among us." He smiles and steps away, leaving his brief greeting behind to be done with as the prince wishes.

*

(>-------<)
| Lorenzo (Courtesy) |
| -----— |
| Failed |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 6 Mod: 0 Total: 6 |
| Roll: 16 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

"And Cristofano has not said a word about your shopping?" Marsilia asks oh so curiously now of her sister, but the betting on cards part does make her sigh lightly. "You were always better at those type of games than myself. Then again, as long as you're not losing money." She doesn't just leave it there though, going on to add, "Or getting yourself into other sort of trouble." While the youngest of the siblings, Marsilia did tend to be the one to scold everyone else… To Cristofano's lateness, as well as Enzo's, apparently, all she can do is purse her lips a tiny bit. Something which they are all probably used to by now. "Why am I not surprised." The music then switches up to something more lively and just like that Cristofano takes his leave… but not to the dance floor.

*

"Hanno most certainly would." Elizabetta says. "You know the math has never been something I could follow nearly as well as he. But I like the notion of stars orbiting something…other things, out there in the void. Though I can't imagine what they'd be." She muses on the notion for a moment, but then she's distracted by the prospect of lamb. "Right now Hanno's got some engineering prospects he's working on, but he'd likely welcome something to puzzle over. Your theory sounds right up his alley. We should see you more often."

*

tHe gladly accepts the greeting as he stands back, taking in the ambiance. Then Raffiano moves again. Whether the food is on tales or trays of servants, he seems to reach for and grab soemthing edible. Fruit again, something citrus oriented, or is that some melon, succulent. Something good most likely as he enjoys it on his meandering of the Great Hall. He starts to look about, certain he may just dance himself at some point, but not sure who or ware, the host family potential candidate seems spoken for amongst siblings. Instead he finds a random table near the raised diaz of the family, some older fellows, uncles of some great house enjoying their later years. Telling stories and laughing. He laughs with them and reaches for some wine or ale that may be on the table. He may get an odd look, but he joins that company for the moment as the feast proceeds.

*

Not too terribly long after she'd been summoned off into the courtyard, Antonella returns to the festivities proper, perhaps answering the call of that livelier song. Alone now, all the rest of her family having headed home for the evening, the youngest of the Capellos watches whatever dancing there might be with sheer delight. And brief distraction when she finds wine near at hand and accepts another glass gladly. Then it's back to her contented voyeurism.

*

"He's more interested in machines. I am interested in the celestial workings of our universe! Like a clock, the stars, crystals in the heavens!" Orazio says, with a certain sniff of pride. "Your brother is a genius in his own right, though. I can't deny it- but I do believe our spheres of study are somewhat less involved with one another than either of us would like." he shakes his head, "Anyways, I probably speak out of turn there- I don't honestly know too well Hanno's work."

Orazio begins to make himself a plate- allowing servants to add food to his plate. Not all that much, to be honest- some meat, some cooked fruit, and other such things. "Honestly, focus is important in the sciences. Too many try to do everything, and fail to see the beauty in focus."

*

Lorenzo eventually makes his way back to Orazio and Elizabetta, where he listens idly as he collects something to eat. Settling down with a plate, he sits comfortably and works on his wine some. While he is there still, he falls into a more passive mode, looking to finish his meal and drink before engaging in more conversation.

*

Lorenzo leaves, heading towards the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino [CY].

*

Lorenzo has left.

*

"Much to the dismay of my opponents, I win a few hands and then I pack up my winnings and leave. I have learned when to walk away from the game." Arabella gives her sister a bright smile, pleased with herself. "I stay out of trouble. Mostly. I did ponder going on deep sea adventures and finding buried treasures, but I thought better of it." This time she is teasing, but the mischief lights her features. "You should steal your husband for a dance, Marsi. Surprise him." Pleased with herself for being an instigator of sorts. To Enzo, she smiles, "You should eat before dancing. Especially if you have had the wine." Again, she notices Raffiano and blushes that he had actually arrived.

*

(>-------<)
| Marsilia (Awareness) |
| -----— |
| Critical Success! |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 10 Mod: 0 Total: 10 |
| Roll: 10 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

Enzo nods a bit as he hears the part about eating something before dancing. "Ah yes," he replies, before he smiles a little. "So, the event has been good?"

*

Cristofano has left.

*

"Buried treasure?" Marsilia has to ask, before her eyes flitter across the large room for Orazio, somewhere, remembering his own sunken 'treasure'. Nodding slowly, content enough to know that not only is Arabella doing well for herself, but her family seems also, the young Contessa does her best to relax. Where is Vittore anyway? And as Marsilia is about to seek out her husband, she does catch a little something from out of the corner of her eyes. Is that a blush she spies! Curiously and with an arch of her brow, the young woman scans the faces in the crowd, looking to see what exactly her sister's gaze has caught. Raffiano. "Hmm." She sounds and leaves it at that. "I will have to find him first." She speaks of her husband, "But don't let me keep you from enjoying the rest of the evening."

*

Speaking of Vittore, he is precisely where Marsilia left him! The man had left his wife to her family reunion for a while, no doubt imagining she could use some time among her blood kin alone. They may all be calling each other siblings now, but still - it is obviously not the same. And besides, it lets him enjoy his own a brief moment of bachelorhood - or at least, of some mild peace and quiet with his meal and wine. Eventually, as the guests have thinned some or moved from the tables to the floor for their own enjoyment or quieter conversation, he does wander in their direction, just as his wife seems to be seeking him out. "How are things going over here, dear?"

*

The talking with Marsilia had done Arabella a world of good, but she does hesitate beside her a little longer. "Are you happy? Truly happy?" All joking aside, she asks with an intensity that shows in her eyes. "That is all that matters and I can live with only getting to visit you if you are not unhappy." She does not seek anyone else out in that moment, focusing instead on her sister.

*

Antonella leaves, heading towards the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino [CY].

*

Antonella has left.

*

While she may have expected this question from Arabella at some point, Marsilia doesn't seem to have an immediate answer. There is a pause, a thoughtful one, but she eventually nods and even smiles a touch, "I am as happy as one can be as she moves on into the next phase of her life. It can be a little overwhelming, but it's been a learning experience all around, I'm sure." To this, she takes a quiet drink from her glass, "Perhaps, when there is time later, we can further touch upon this topic." She says this just as Vittore seems to be trying to gain her attention, "As I feel like I've been away for too long from my household, right now, it seems that I've done the same with my new family as well." And to this, she simply laughs gently to her sister. Moving to offer Arabella a parting embrace, she says, "Don't worry about me. I will find the time out of taking care of the household to seek you out. Hopefully, this time it won't take an entire month to do so." And to Vittore, she finally calls out, "We are just finishing up here."

*

After a few extra laughs with the group, its clear he's not getting the punchlines just right. Thus a few hard stares later, Raffiano takes his leave for the benefit of the men there and their old war stories. Not without getting a good drink down at least. And a little more food from the offerings on their table. Up to his feet again, he's being social, moving around, not really socializing more like pretending, but moving around people and such. And he'll sort of get near that mingle of family and in-laws right there. "My pardon, Signoras, Signore," he looks among the group, "I do not mean to intrude, but alas, I've managed to fit into this so that I may gain one dance. I fear I would request to take Signora Arabella from your company. This may be a good time to do this?" They may be parting as it is, but he still tries to be cordial about it all

*

Apparently, Orazio didn't even realize his friend has wandered off- just talking to himself, "Anyways, what is the point of all that machinery- the celestial workings of the universe is noble. The height of nobility! What is higher than the stars? What more builds awe in man's chest and drives him to look ever upward? Who has not looked at the vastness of the sky and wondered, wished, and dreamt? Stars feed the sou…." Orazio turns, blinking, "Where did she go?"

*

Timing was not good, but it was an important question to Arabella. The answer would do for now, but she smiles, hugging her sister back. "I will come see you too. Your husband, my new brother, invited me to come see you. I would love to." An extra squeeze then she releases her and watches her go with her husband. As Raffiano arrives, the worried look is replaced with a smile. "Are you ever so eager to get it over with?" The teasing returns to her tone after another brief flicker of her eyes to her sister before they return to Raffiano. "If you are officially asking, then I would be honored to accept, Signore." She moves to step off the dais and to the tiled floor below before she dips into a curtsy.

*

Even then, Vittore is not too intrusive, standing at a pace off as the sisters embrace, before stepping nearer to Marsilia. "Oh, there's no rush, although I didn't want to be a stranger either. Evening, everyone I haven't said hello to already," which may include whatever brothers didn't vanish into the ether. "I should extend again, that you are very free to visit us whenever you would like, as well," he tells Arabella. "We are practically next door, after all." Ah, but then here comes some fellow to take her away. "Don't let us keep you, it is your party to enjoy, after all. Be good to her, hmm?" The last suggested toward Raffiano, as Vittore evidently takes a brother-in-law's duties to include some of those that the blooded variety might normally exercise, such as vague (but in his case, rather friendly) intimidation of suitors! "Shall we be off, my dear?" he then wonders of the pair of sisters not being absconded with.

*

When Raffiano approaches, Marsilia's bright eyes focus on him, having a feeling she knows what he is here for. Her gaze is not an entirely unfriendly one, despite its intenseness. Turning to Arabella, she finds some fondness in seeing her sister's familiar smile and thus her expression softens slowly. Her own husband's words take her by surprise and she looks from Vittore to Raffiano and follows up with, "I trust that he will." Giving her sister one last glance, she steps towards Vittore, "Of course. I thank you for allowing me this time for a visit with my family, while leaving you alone at such a huge gathering." Her voice quiets down as the married pair begin to slowly depart and continue on with their conversation.

*

(>-------<)
| Arabella (Dancing) |
| -----— |
| Success |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 9 Mod: 0 Total: 9 |
| Roll: 3 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

(>-------<)
| Raffiano (Dancing) |
| -----— |
| Success |
| -
------ |
| Skill: 2 Mod: 0 Total: 2 |
| Roll: 1 Status: |
(>-------<)

*

"Hrm." Orazio says, looking back to the sky. "Well. I suppose I should make my way back home, then. Still some vening left, not a total waste of a night, I suppose." he says to himself, "Anyways, I need to get more charcoal." he starts off on his own, still wholly ignorant of any prince or the rest.

*

"On my best behavior," returns Raffiano, "Conto di Farro." His voice carries that less melodic quality in an offer of sincerity in the words. And he does offer a bow to Arabella, "Officially in this moment, I have asked." An arm offered for her, to move formally to the dance floor, responding inkind. "Yes, very eager, I can say with certainty that this is a little stiff in the neck. If not scratchy all together, I wonder if Cesare has done something to it." Or another family member. "The honor is mine Signora. I beg your foregiveness in advance, for any injuries caused to your precious feet. Do not let your brothers take it as an offense, for I do not have my running legs with me this night." And he actually surprises himself, those dance lessons as a lad come back to him now, his eyes showing surprise at first, but then he moves with the current dance. Maybe he sees some of the others and it comes back to him, but he seems able to dance.

*

Vittore leaves, heading towards the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino [CY].

*

Vittore has left.

*

Marsilia leaves, heading towards the Courtyard - Palazzo Sabastino [CY].

*

Marsilia has left.

*

Onward and outward, although Orazio does pause and gives a wave towards the room at large. "It was a pleasure, my deepest thanks to the hosts." he bows his head, "Wonderful entertainment." he then is out into the night.

*

Arabella responds to her sister and brother in law before she takes to the floor with Raffiano. As the tempo of the music goes, she finds it and follows along in the dance with him. It surprises her how well he does actually dance and her eyes flicker to his in surprise. "You are very modest, Signore Raffiano." She lets him lead, but she throws in a twirl or two, perhaps showing off a little for the Prince as she dances around, skirts flowing with her movements, looking quite adept at dancing.

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