Ladyjennet
Rhys smiled companionably at the lady, deciding that he knew precisely what Prince Viceroy saw in such a woman, but being entirely too well mannered to say such a thing. He escorted her to the carriage and helped her inside, urging her to take the seat opposite him, which had been piled high with cushions for her comfort. The messenger neglected to mention the raving of the innkeeper's wife who now was almost entirely without pillows in several of the nicer guest suites, but had been well compensated in return with a small pouch of the Princess' coin.
He closed the door to the carriage and tapped the top with his hand, the carriage lurching forward with a sudden jolt. Thereafter, the ride was smoother, moving along down the road from Holywell town to the docks, past the inns, the market, and several more questionable businesses with which Rhys was also acquainted. Well, his lady might be a princess, but she was no fool, and some habits died hard...or not at all.
The dock was a frantic scene as sailors boarded ships, trunks and crates being loaded aboard the merchant vessels, soldiers scrambling to board the warships, and Persephone alone sitting silent and regal.
Rhys spotted the page almost instantly and waved to him as he opened the door of the carriage and drew down the small steps for the lady's convenience. He invited the lady to descend and offered her a hand in order to disembark the carriage in the greatest safety. The last thing Rhys wished to hear upon his return was that stern voice, the last thing to see that single raised eyebrow, as the Princess inquired as to why he had unceremoniously dumped the Great Chamberlain in some mud puddle. With a shudder at the horror of the thought, he waited, palmed outstretched to Cordelia.
OOC:Godmod of Cordelia with permission
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Grand Mistress, Knights of Saint Michael|Knight of the Garter|Knight of the Crown|CoH|RHA|Deaconess of Holywell
He closed the door to the carriage and tapped the top with his hand, the carriage lurching forward with a sudden jolt. Thereafter, the ride was smoother, moving along down the road from Holywell town to the docks, past the inns, the market, and several more questionable businesses with which Rhys was also acquainted. Well, his lady might be a princess, but she was no fool, and some habits died hard...or not at all.
The dock was a frantic scene as sailors boarded ships, trunks and crates being loaded aboard the merchant vessels, soldiers scrambling to board the warships, and Persephone alone sitting silent and regal.
Rhys spotted the page almost instantly and waved to him as he opened the door of the carriage and drew down the small steps for the lady's convenience. He invited the lady to descend and offered her a hand in order to disembark the carriage in the greatest safety. The last thing Rhys wished to hear upon his return was that stern voice, the last thing to see that single raised eyebrow, as the Princess inquired as to why he had unceremoniously dumped the Great Chamberlain in some mud puddle. With a shudder at the horror of the thought, he waited, palmed outstretched to Cordelia.
OOC:Godmod of Cordelia with permission
_________________
Grand Mistress, Knights of Saint Michael|Knight of the Garter|Knight of the Crown|CoH|RHA|Deaconess of Holywell