Marianne at Court Ch. 04

Marianne Newhook had told herself she was going to get back out there. To mingle, to make friends, to meet people, to do anything but wallow in her room day after day.

Yet, as she found herself standing next to Nyrene and Sharra in the swirling center of Jason Algrave's Misthallow party, all she could think about was how uncomfortable she was. She was never one for parties. Father's parties in Ralmeere were always dreadfully boring affairs, laden with stuffy merchants and lickspittles paying her hollow compliments while dealing improper looks upon her body. Marianne never spent more time at them than she absolutely had to, frequently ducking out of them after a mere hour, to spend time with Victor in her room. That's what she wanted now. To be out of her dress, cuddled up in bed.

Her attire was modest. It was a deep green dress with a long skirt that hung down to her ankles. It was trimmed with black, with thin black sleeves and a high neckline. Her hair was down. Nyrene had insisted she find a way to wear it up, but Marianne found that she lacked the energy for that tonight.

Yes, the noble-born girl had definitely gotten cold feet. She was no longer here to impress, she was here to survive.

The party swirled around her. Pretty young ladies laughed at the jokes of well-dressed dukelings and landed knights, placing delicate hands on their broad, silky chests. It wasn't uncommon for young people to find themselves at these parties with the explicit intention of finding companionship...be it romantic, or otherwise.

Marianne frowned, but at that moment Sharra cut through the throng and placed a full glass of wine in her hand. "Oh, goodness, thank you." she told her friend in a quiet voice.

"Not having a good time?" Sharra said in an unreadable tone. Sharra definitely sympathized with Marianne, she thought. What she really wanted was for Sharra to break, and tell Marianne they could return home. But that didn't happen. Sharra scanned the cavernous hall of the lodge with her, her bright green eyes dancing from group to group, from couple to couple. She wore a tan gown, with a shirted lace top that tumbled into a long skirt. The slender girl wore her slightly-curled hair up in an elegant tail. "I wonder if Kent is invited." she said drily, nodding her head to one corner of the room.

Nyrene Pryce was in a corner, on a couch with her legs up, and slightly parted. Between them and on top of her was Duncan Sorley, Nyrene's "friend" who had gotten the girls to this party to begin with. Her nimble hands roamed the back of his shaved head as they embraced in an impassioned kiss, while the knight's own hands roamed up the inside of the brunette's legs. Ostensibly, they seemed to be undiscovered. But the couple made little attempt to hide their passion, indeed, Marianne thought that if Nyrene parted her legs much more, she would have no issue catching glimpses of what's underneath, with the way that Duncan hiked up the skirts of Nyrene's black dress.

Marianne groaned and Sharra smirked. "Well." Marianne said somberly. "At least she's having fun, right?"

"That was never a concern, though." Sharra responded happily. "What we're truly here to do i-"

Suddenly, the crowds shifted and parted. A girl in a red dress was pushed into Sharra, cutting her off and forcing her to take steps back, and Marianne followed. Once they had regained their footing, they took a look to see a crowd of people gathering around the crown prince: Jason Algrave.

The prince had been fashionably late to his own party, clearly. There'd been a few flimsy rumors swirling that he spent the first two hours of the function in the upper apartments, drinking. Marianne thought back to the handful of times she drank herself into a stupor after she and Victor had...parted ways. For a while there, wine seemed like the only thing that helped. She didn't drink like she had back then anymore, but now the taste of wine still reminded her of the cute knight of Ralmeere. Oh, Victor. Perhaps Sharra shouldn't have given her this glass.

"Let's go." Sharra whispered sharply.

"What? Go where?" Marianne asked, her mind shook from thoughts of home.

"Over there. By Prince Jason."

"Oh....no. No, I don't think so."

"Come on, Marianne. Aren't you curious?" she said, grabbing Marianne by the elbow and leading her on. She did her best to drag her feet without tripping over her own long dress.

The prince wore a grey and black tunic trimmed with silver. He had a devilish smile on his face as he held court at Misthallow, regaling the crowd with some story of a tavern he encountered on campaign, that Marianne didn't catch the beginning of. The material of his shirt stretched across the prince's wide frame, and Marianne noticed thin scars racing out over his large biceps from underneath the short, dark, sleeves. In his hand, he cupped a goblet of wine that seemed twice the size of anyone else's, as a silver ring glittered on his pinky finger - it was pure, and carved into the shape of a bull's head. Marianne had no doubt it was completely real.

"...so I thought I'd give him a chance, right?" Jason's voice swam through the air with a slick confidence. "Guess medicine was more of a hobby for him than a practice, though. Because he stitched it up, and it still hurts like hell. I'm starting to think he did it wrong." he said with a laugh. He handed his wine to someone next to him as his arms flexed, lifting from the bottom hem of his tunic.

The crowd of girls pushed in, seemingly eager for a glimpse at the prince's apparently-scarred and stitched chest. From her position toward the back of the group, Marianne couldn't get much of a look, and she noticed she was frowning to herself. She had to admit...that would have been nice to see. She thought of how she would bandage Victor, practicing until it was perfect, late in the night. And then...

"You know, Marianne's practiced medicine. You should see her bandage work. It's impeccable." quipped the confident voice of Nyrene Pryce.

Marianne hadn't noticed her dark haired friend find her way through the crowd to stand in front of the prince. The short black skirts of her dress were returned to their proper place. All and all, it didn't look at all like she just had Sir Duncan's hand in between her legs. How'd she do that? The knight in question stood sheepishly next to her, with mussed hair and an uncomfortable expression on his face. The crowd parted.

Prince Jason was grabbing his wine from his compatriot, the smile never left his face. Although at this point, it was tinged with traces of confusion. A downright embarrassing pang of silence hung over this part of the party before Jason fixed Nyrene with a smiling glance - "Uh...who?"

"Marianne. Marianne Newhook, my friend." Nyrene said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She also gestured to Marianne as she walked up, as if she knew she were there the entire time - but as far as Marianne could tell, she hadn't even looked at her in some time. "Tell him, Marianne."

"Um..."

"Come on."

Marianne blushed deeply, and her eyes met Jason's. They sparkled cobalt above his wine cup as he issued her a curious and playful expression. Marianne could feel her heart quicken. Her skin felt...hot. "I studied medicine at the Temple near Ralmeere, my lord." she said plainly - formally. Should she have used his title? Were other people? She wasn't sure. Maybe not? Oh gods, maybe that was strange of her. Maybe-

"Probably should have taken you on campaign, then. Might not still be in so much pain." he japed, to raucous laughter from the crowd. Marianne stood in blushed silence, her heart nearly stopping at his joke. Marianne wasn't sure what sort of expression was on her face, but she imagined that it wasn't anything resembling confident, or even normal. She pursed her lips into a thin smile. Gods, the way he grinned...

"Jason Algrave. A pleasure, Marianne." he said. Suddenly she was aware of a wide hand stretching in front of her, fingers ringed with silver and steel.

"Yes, I know you. I mean, I know. I know who you are, Prince Jason." - she stumbled over her words as Jason's grin grew. Eventually she reached up and put her hand in his - it seemed tiny in comparison. She knew that Jason was a man of impressive stature, but she'd never been this close to the dark-haired prince.

He chuckled and gave her hand a gentle shake. "Glad you could be here." his hold on her small hand lingered as he stared at her over his wine glass, with an amused expression painted on his face. His full lips curled slightly into a smirk, his thumb resting on the back of her hand. It seemed like they stood there like that for ten whole minutes, but it couldn't have been that long. Right?