Yes, yes, it's the night of the great bi-monthly (which is to say every other month, not every two weeks) Grayson Family Dinner! Sabella, that tubby ol' Princess, isn't here just yet, so Prince Niklas is there greeting people as they enter, gesturing toward the table with its big piles of authentic medieval style food, like roast meats and roast root vegetables and roast puddings and roast beverages. They had one move back in the old timey times. "Hello, all! Sabella will be with us soon, but for now please eat up, drink up, chat up and all the rest of those ups!"

Gianna breezes in, appearing to be in a good mood. She does have a rather serious case of resting bitchface, but there's a lightness to her step and she seems slightly less bitchy than usual? It's quite hard to tell, really. She stops by Niklas and inclines her head to him. "Prince Niklas, hello again. I had an idea for a change in lyrics, when you have some time."

Rhiannon is already there, tucked up against a wall. Her tunic and breeches for going around the city is what she's wearing. She looks more like someone's guard than a member of the family.

Lailah enters with all the pomp and fanfare that she usually does, aka, none. She's not brought a book with her, but otherwise is looking pretty much the same as usual. "Your highness." She greets Niklas pleasantly, "How do you do?"

Pharamond shows up, and is even (modestly) fashionable. He's not in his normal soldier gear but for dinner is in some silks the color of something one would expect an Ashford to be in, with tree designs and everything. "Prince Niklas," he says with a warm smile and a bow as he looks about. "Family," he says with a chuckle as he spies Olivia and Rhiannon, and he makes his way over. All though, should he make their eye, are given a warm smile. He's always pleased to be around those of the fealty.

Olivia enters the dining hall with a big smile on her face. She decided to dress fancy tonight. Her flirty sundress didn't feel too appropriate. She waves to the room as she comes in. So many friends in one place! She sees Pharamond and loses a little composure and skips over to him and gives him a sudden and forceful hug, "Uncle!"

"I do spectacularly, Lady Lailah! Sabella's due here in the next month or so, the Playwrights is being performed in Maelstrom and Sanctum, a troupe actually /in/ Gemecitta wants to put on the Good Duke of Gemecitta! Things simply could not be better. I really can't imagine anything could bring me down right now!" Niklas gives a big smile, totally unaware that his brother is dead somewhere and his family is soon to be tossed into disarray. To Gianna he says, "Oh, good, two women in my life questioning my lyrics. Just what I was looking for. Obviously we can talk about it! Is it because of the bit where I rhymed life and strife? They both work really well there, but I actually do feel rather terrible about it." When Pharamond enters Niklas steps forward and gives the man a firm handshake. "Good that you could make it!"

Rhiannon nods at Pharamond and Olivia as they enter. She's so serious, not speaking right away as she watches everyone enter the room. She is, at least, not in a dress. That's really such a good thing that she's not in a dress. That might cause an accident if she were to trip over it and land on someone.

Malcolm's greeting Niklas with an easy-going smile, a dip of his head, and a wiggly-fingered wave. "Evening, Highness. Fine night for a supper, innit? Although every night's a good night for a supper. 'Less you're doin that breakfast for supper thing, which, lemme tell you - you oughta do. Midnight omelets are good." He offers the same boyish, dorky grin to everyone else that he sees - waving at them, never waiting for a wave back before he keeps on running through those greetings. "Lady Rhiannon. Lady Lailah. Well-met, yeah? Lookin forward to th'roast, myself." Why - yes - Malcolm did bring both dogs. The two sentient clouds of floof scatter. One toward another table to sniff beneath it (Goofus) and one right on his heel, laying down out of the way but keeping a morose eye on her charge (Galina.) "Evenin, Lady Oliva, how'd you do? Lord Pharamond. Miss Nightingale."

Gianna's lips curve up slightly at the corners. "Mmmmmn," she tells Niklas, which is probably 'yes' but maybe not. She sails on past to collect a plate and get herself some roast things. "Duke Malcolm, hello," she greets. The dogs are expertly ignored. Is that roast beef? She'll have some of that. Roast asparagus? That, too.

Elizabetta, a disapproving lady-in-waiting, Lily, an aloof lady-in-waiting, 2 Grayson House Guards, Clark, an exasperated guard arrive, following Sabella.

Rhiannon dups her head toward Malcolm, returning his greeting. "Duke Malcolm. A pleasure. I hope that all is well with you and your house?" Not a lot to say there, but that's something.

Pharamond chuckles warmly at the handshake and the hug, which probably happen far too closely in time yet he manages to wrangle Olivia and not have her crash into the Prince. "It could be worse, Prince. No one could be looking or caring about your lyrics. Which is the worse fate for the would-be suffereing artist - to be critiqued by all or heard by none?" He grins, sounding far too in his right mind which means he clearly hasn't had enough to drink...though very few people have likely been around Pharamond when he would say he's had enough - it an take quite a bit to get to there. Olivia is hugged, and Rhiannon is spied - hopefully she doesn't think she's off the hook yet. "Go make nice to the Duke since you're our Voice," he teases Olivia and gives Malcolm a genuine bow as he hears the greeting and he pokes his niece in the side, a gentle gesture.

"That's good to hear, your highness, I am looking forward to your next masterpiece." Lailah answers Niklas, then maneuvers forward to socialize with some of the others, and gets caught by Malcolm, "Duke Shepherd. How do you do?" She asks, pleasantly, looking to the others as well, "Lady Rhiannon, Lady Olivia, Lord Pharamond. It almost seems like all of Ashford has come, but I feel like I'm missing someone for that to be true."

Niklas pours himself a goblet of Ostrian brandy, then gestures for servers to see to everyone's alcoholic needs. "Duke Malcolm, Lady Olivia, Lady Rhiannon! So many faces, some of them new to the Grayson family dinner! Well, everyone eat and we can start the game in a few moments. I hope everyone brought their blood aprons, because last month things got a little out of control and a lot of outfits were ruined." This is probably a joke, since he's definitely not wearing a blood apron.

"Sure is, Lady Rhiannon, and on account it's summer - various members of the House seem to bee in high spirits. Must be the weather, I think. Brings out the best an' the worst in folk. What about Ashford, mm?" Malcolm pulls a chair out from the table and he drops into it with very little ceremony, stretching his legs out beneath the table as he considers the contents of his plate that he's helped himself too. He picks up a roasted asparagus spear, wields it like a miniature lance, and offers to fill in the gaps for Lailah. "Duke Harlan an' the lovely future Duchess-Consort Lisebeth, I think." Cronch, cronch, cronch on the tasty lance.

Olivia looks over to Malcolm and smiles, she is about to make her way over but she sees the dog at his feet and she stops dead in her tracks. Now she just keeps her distance and curtseys polietly. "Duke Malcolm. Wonderful to see you.... I see you brought... companions to dinner." She turns to Lailah, "Duke Harlan was indisposed but he sends his regards and me in his place." She smiles warmly. Then she sees Rhiannon and skips over to her and gives her the same rough hug her uncle got.

Rhiannon is hugged. If it were anyone but Olivia, they might be kept at a distance with her bow, or sheath for her sword. Instead, she allows the hug and returns it, even while she answers Malcolm. "Ashford it well, Your Grace. Indeed, we are overflowing with blessings from the Gods. Including dear Lady Lisebet. She is quite the jewel that we are most blessed to have join our House."

Gianna inclines her head politely to Olivia when she spots her; Pharamond is also nodded to. "Lord Pharamond, it's been a while, hasn't it? I hope you're doing well." Some roast potatoes find their way onto her plate as well. Risking Sabella's wrath, she sneaks some cheese from the cheese plate before the princess arrives and it's all gone.

"Oh, right. The the duke and the future duchess-consort." Lailah says with amusement, then leads to where this was setting up, "That reminds me, my lord, are you being pestered with suggestions about a future duchess-consort of your own yet?" She asks in an innocent tone, glancing towards the others, sitting down at the table and claiming some food. "Send my regards back to duke Harlan, if you would?"

"Oh, the dogs --" Malcolm sucks in his lower lip and glances down at the ground, considerately, and then he looks back up and shrugs his shoulders. "They're behaved, Lady Olivia." Then, he picks up a roasted carrot in order to munch on that next. Chewing as he looks toward Niklas at the mention of games and blood aprons. His eyebrows loft high with amusement and he grins, still chewing. Swallowing that bite, he speaks up: "Messy, eh? That sounds /fun/!

Pharamond is listening and he has a drink. Indeed, something fruited and alcoholic, likely a brandy along with some nice blackberry or such. "Beloved Nightingale," he offers warmly to Gianna, giving a genuine nod. "I would say that every time I hear your voice say my name, it has been too long since the last time." He does not seem too focused on food yet, not when there are so many untried bottles of liquid. "He will be at the wedding so you can always offer regards yourself?" It's not meant as a correction, more enthusiasm over his nephew's upcoming ceremony.

"Uh -- what, Lady Lailah? Suggestions about m'own Duchess-Consort? Hmm, yeah, a couple. From m'Voices and others. I'll consider their choices too, but I'm not in any real rush yet to find someone. Seein as though, ah, well." Malcolm's at a total loss for more to say. Instead, he picks up a bit of roast pork and shoves it into his mouth, making the point moot. Close-mouthed smile, dark eyes filled with mirth. He shrugs his shoulders high, almost looking apologetic.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Malcolm before departing.

Did someone just take some cheese off the cheese plate? Suddenly Sabella appears by the refreshment table and it should be impossible for a woman that pregnant to move that fast, "Aha, blueberries and cheddar, what a brilliant combination. Hello everyone! Sorry I'm late. This second pregnancy is just really taking it out of me, but I knew I couldn't miss family dinner night!" she beams at those assembled, "I'm so glad to see such a crowd!"

1 Inquisition Confessors, Nimue Brecelien of Artshall, Scribble, a Delicate Social Butterfly, 1 Bisland pride guards, 1 Bisland pride guards, Pearl, a Maelstrom Forest Cat arrive, following Delilah.

Galina, the glorious Graypeak Mountain dog have been dismissed.

Olivia smiles to Lailah, "I will be sure he hears such regards." She glances over to Pharamond and grins a little. She walks close to Lailah and whispers something in her ear and giggles wildly. She smiles to Sabella as she notices her and approaches, offering up a polite curtsey to the Princess, "Princess Sabella, once again you host an incredible party, thank you very much for allowing us rowdy Ashford's in your plans yet again. It is an honor for us to be here."

Niklas moves to Sabella's side, taking her hand once she's already had some cheese so as not to chance losing any fingers. He leans over and kisses her cheek, then leads her over to greet everyone. "I believe we're the only Graysons here, my love, but we have any number of Ashfords and a peppering of Bisland and Shepherds, which makes for a party, if you ask me." He nods toward Gianna. "And a Nightingale."

"Ah, flattery," Gianna tells Pharamond, though she seems pleased. She reaches up to run her hand through her hair and everything. Preening, even. Sabella arrives, and Gianna, very careful to appear nonchalant, tucks her cheese into her mouth and chews slowly. Her cheeks are puffed out a little, but in a super elegant way.

Pharamond grins at the Duke's words, a little bit of a chuckle but he takes another sip of his brandy as he smiles widely to Gianna. "Flattery doesn't make it any less true," he offers, making sure to fluff up the Nightingale properly but there's no actual teasing in his tone. Who wouldn't want to hear their name spoken by one of the best voices in the whole of the Compact. He does dip his head and intones, "I need to find something to eat so that I may make sure to continue my steady imbibement. It has been some time since I truly, truly took a deep appreciation of the liquors and I think tonight should become yet another."

Pearl, a Maelstrom Forest Cat have been dismissed.

1 Bisland pride guards have been dismissed.

Nimue Brecelien of Artshall have been dismissed.

There's fashionably late, of course. Then there is a lateness of spritely steps and excitement stitched fully into a courier's delivery, forestalled on the cusp of entering the Grayson Manor to see to the plethora of paperwork. Delilah bears a slender folio when she finally bypasses the guards situated throughout the various exciting corridors, her fingers wrapped around the spine and tucking it away into a star-dappled bag at her side. All the while, a swivel drops her into the midst of the abundant Shep-ford-fords. What? It rather minimally blends!

Lailah nods towards Olivia and listens tot he others, but her attention eventually falls upon Gianna. "Would you happen to know anyone who can give remedial singing lessons? My father is quite insistent in expressing his disappointment of late that I no longer sing like I used to, and I figured I'd indulge him some, but it's been so long since I did much singing, and I'd hate to disappoint him."

"Oh, it is our pleasure to have you here," Sabella says with a smile to Olivia, letting Nik bring her over to the people and away from the food. Luckily the servants know to start making the platters come to her, "Did I hear that we are hunting for suitable marriages? Or perhaps being talked into it?" She asks, giving Malcolm a big grin, "Don't let them force your hand, Duke Malcolm. While a partner would make the paperwork lessen, it does make other things take up a lot more of your time."

Olivia has been bouncing around excitedly to all her friends trying to make conversation, she has completely forgotten about food, hopefully a dutiful cousin or uncle reminds the poor girl to eat less she passes out. She spies Delilah this time and hurries over holding her gowns skirt in her hands to ensure she doesn't trip herself. Let's hope for the best on that. "Lady Delilah, oh how fabulous to see you. Will your sister be joining us?" She glances at Pharamond as she says this a mischievous grin on her face.

"The roast beef is excellent," Gianna tells Pharamond once she's swallowed her mouthful of cheese. She offers Sabella one of her flickers of a smile, glancing down at the woman's belly because by the gods is she going to pop tonight? So gross. Lailah's question gets her attention. "Certainly. Both Princess Sorrel and Baroness Lucita are happy to provide voice lessons to anyone that so desires. They're excellent teachers."

"There's whiskey, Lord Pharmond? If so - or, you know, anythin else that you would suggest -- I'd be honored t'share a drink with Ashford's Sword." Malcolm less than discreetly wipes his fingers clean on the edge of a linen napkin, testing that out. A little bit of manners, see. It's a triumph. Malcolm looks up, slyly, as though he might be expecting praise. Then, no, there's a new entrance to notice and he stands up abruptly. Skidding the chair out with a vague screech of wood against the floor, "Lady Delilah, evenin." Bright-eyed? Check. Bushy-tailed? Lacking. Then, Sabella speaks and he glances toward the Princess, cheeks going splotchy. "Don't need to hunt, your Highness. An' it more suggestions. M'family knows better than to force me toward anythin."

"Coming right up!" A small stab of beef, a plate. A bit of bread. Aaaaaand some whiskey. He makes his way over to the Duke and settles down with a bit of food, and of course, the glasses of whiskey liberated from one of the servers. Glasses settled, he grins, "And I am happy to settle in with the Duke and our neighbor here in the Ward. Along with of course the House of grain-based alcohols. I find that rather something I need to investigate. Thoroughly...and repeatedly." He slides over the glass though before holding his up to toast with the Duke. "Thank you for the invitation."

The initial moment of appearance noted by Olivia, the copper-haired Whitehawk representative reaches up to assure her razor-blade halo remains in the same position she left it. The hint of a smile touches her lips. "Which one? I rather had hoped to corner Lady Tabitha into attending with me, though sadly I expect she might be wrapped up in her painting," Delilah says, offering a gentle wave for Olivia and an inclination of her head to everyone present. The first place to start is with Sabella and Niklas, the Grayson couple earning a merry smile bright and certain. "As ever, thank you for your hosting of this event. You look lovely, Princess Sabella! Tabby insists I say hello to you both on her behalf." Midnight fire laps around her as she descends into the midst of it all, seeking an open seat rather than loitering at the fringes of the room. The table will do perfectly well, thank you. Her glance to Pharamond as the subject of a toast calls for a drink right now, and surely there is a servant for that. Whiskey, it would be, which she lifts in gracious toast. "La, to the Sword of Ashford and the perennial fortune and flourishing of your house."

"Many grain-based alcohols, Lord Pharamond, an' one day soon I'll bring a cask or crate by just f'yah. The great gourmand and Champion of House Ashford's seal of approval would do wonders for Shepherd's reputation, I'm sure a'that." Malcolm sits back down, promptly, with a muffled off. "Back down, mmhm." He sweeps up his glass of whiskey, touches it to Pharamond's in a toast and he lifts his glass up before he takes a sip - which turns into a deeper drink -- and then a grin. "Nah, thank you for acceptin the invite, my lord."

"I feel like it's been an age since I've seen Tabitha," Sabella says with a wistful sigh, "But her paintings are amazing so I can't fault her for wanting to stay at it," She accepts a cup of something bubbly from a passing tray and has a sip. "That's a good stance to take, Duke Malcolm. I forced my family to agree to Prince Niklas and it turns out like in all things I was right in my choice."

Niklas looks around, all excited. "Who's looking to get married?! I have two brothers available, a-" He realizes that they're talking about Malcolm and Pharamond and stops short. "Ah, no, nevermind!" Tilting his head toward Delilah he adds, "I did have high hopes for Connie and Lady Delilah, though. He would have been a dashing Whitehawk! Sadly, I do believe he had another affair go south and fled back to Stormward." He gives a sigh. "Connie was always such a sensitive boy. Which is why I'm glad that someone," he doesn't look toward Gianna at all, "never got their cruel hooks into him!" He claps his hands together and says, "So! Shall we begin the game?"

At the sight of Delilah, Pharamond's grin could literally light a room as he beams, grinning that bit wider. As the toast is offered, "You're too kind Lady Whitehawk. But I may have to have you help me write some remarks for our Duke and Lady Farshaw here in a few weeks," he says, smiling more warmly and he looks to Malcolm once more, after making sure the Ashford Ladies seem to be taken care of. "Alright," he says, "I would gladly taste some, though I'm pretty sure you won't need a whole cask to get my approval. Both Elsa and Jennyva seem pretty fond of your alcohol. "Games?" Pharamond's attention tilts towards the idea of a contest!

Gianna inclines her head to Delilah, her mouth presently full of roasted food. Is Niklas not looking at her? She's not looking at him, either. Even when he claps for attention. That's how much she's not looking at him. She sniffs faintly, reaching for her glass of wine.

Olivia approaches Lailah again with a smile, "Lady Lailah, speaking of marriages, where are your eligible handsome brothers on this fine evening?" She grins a little bit. She turns and finally remembers... Food... this is a dinner party after all.

"Well, your Highness -- with none bein greater than Grayson, it only makes a good kinda sense that anyone you chose would be of benefit t'the House." Malcolm opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again. Rather like a goldfish drowning in open air. "Oh, Lord Constantine, eh? Shame, Prince Niklas -- never got a chance to meet yer brother. Brothers. Whichever, y'know, an' if he fled back t'Stormward I'm sure it was fer a good reason. Good thing for me, I think." Malcolm mutters that last right into his whiskey, not filtering his words nor the warm glance he offers Lady Whitehawk. Then, back, "Games!" He empties his glass and sets it down, nudging it away for another bite of food.

Rhiannon is too busy holding up a wall to eat, though her eyes follow Olivia as though keeping her out of trouble. Though as Olivia seems to go back to the subject of matchings, she might fade into the wallpaper a bit more.

"Well I happen to only have one brother, lady Olivia, and he doesn't dare come to these dinners. He fears the king might make an appearance." Lailah answers Olivia with a bemused tone to her voice. "But I shall endeavour to organize a family dinner, where he's more likely to show, and then I'll make sure to invite you to it."

"Don't get too excited," Sabella laughs, "The game we play is entirely social where we tell each other what we have been up to or what grand plans we have in the works. For instance, I have been working on a charity to help those families who have lost members in our recent conflicts. And now that I've shared I pick the next person and oh, Prince Niklas, what do you have to share with the group?"

Dashing Whitehawks, glorious Whitehawks, and then there's the Spookhawk. The duskiest shades of shadow tinting the family's golden hair resolves at best to bronze, copper, and tawny hues in Delilah. "Alas, if only I had actually enjoyed his company longer than a few moments, Prince Niklas. You do realize I have sisters and cousins aplenty? Lady Sapphira and Lady Evonleigh at the least, though." She stops short of a blithe smile, lifting up the whiskey, laughter dancing in those summer-sky eyes that turn with interest to Gianna for a moment. Her lips rise all the higher. "You have me to write whatever you need, Lord Pharamond. My pen shall be yours and no trace of origins in the tale-telling to be found anywhere. Save brevity, that falls on your head." The clink of her fingertip against the side of the glass is all but a devilish underscoring of the mirth leaping higher. "Lady Olivia, your unattached state is unlikely to last for long, that's all I have to say."

Olivia smiles warmly at Lailah, "This sounds like a fantastic evening." She slinks over to where Rhiannon is trying to hide and slips her hand in to her cousins and squeezes, "Come Cousin let us eat." She starts walking back to the table tugging at her cousin, making her way to Delilah. She offers her free hand to the Lady Whitehawk. "Lady Delilah would you like to come sit with Rhiannon and I and enjoy a bite to eat?

Rhiannon is pulled from the wall, no longer allowed to be a wallflower, blending in with the guards. It's obvious that she is allowing Olivia to tug her along. "Really, cousin, there is no need. I am sure that you do not require my company." Who would hold up the wall?

"Oh, the Ladies Evonleigh and Tabitha are some truly wonderful people! But your scholarly and adventuresome ways did seem like a good match for yours!" To Malcolm, Niklas says, "Well, my older brother is still around here somewhere! I haven't seen Ford in some time, but, well, siblings!" Ever cheerful, Niklas gives Sabella a look when she chooses him, but goes ahead and says, "Well, with the full run of the Good Duke of Gemecitta over it is now time to move on to the next great thing, but... I'm stalling because it requires revisiting two scripts I'd basically given up on. So instead I'm spearheading the summer series Sabella and I have done for the past few years. A series of free plays for children that we put on in Nightingale Park. This year we're adapating six stories from the classic Garyl Glitterhorn canon. I'm sure most of us enjoyed the adventures of Arvum's favorite spectral bicorn as children and I'm excited to pass that on to kids now! So if anyone is interested in helping in any way, set construction, bringing in crowds, performing, whatever you can do, do please let me know!"

Niklas pauses, then points at Olivia. "And what have you been up to, Lady Olivia?"

Essentially, everything that Niklas has said might well have been in another language past the exclamation about siblings. Malcolm's eyebrows furrow deeply, his nose and mouth turning up in gentle confusion. "Huh. Must be some job, your Highness, bein the playwright." His attention shifts, tilting his head toward Olivia once it's her turn to share with the table. Although - the Shepherd Duke seems distracted, because he almost chokes on a bite of roasted potato.

Olivia looks to Niklas as he decides she should be next. "Far too much I think... I may be stretching myself thin. I am preparing to take my Combat Mercy test... The King told me I could have a plot in the palace garden to try and do a clipping of my special black rose and see if I can get another to grow. Lady Delilah here wants one as well. I am planning an exursion soon with Rhiannon here, writing a heartfelt toast for my Darling brothers wedding... Trying to find him and my future sister a perfect wedding gift... Wife hunting for uncle.. I feel the list could keep going... but I do not wish to monopolize the conversation." She smiles. "I piiiick.... Lailah!"

Gianna keeps eating and sipping wine; her expression is just as haughty as ever, but she's ever so elegant and refined as she takes advantage of this free food. She listens attentively as people chime in on what their current projects are.

Laudine, a stern middle-aged maidservant, 2 Whitehawk Guards, Princess Muffin, the fluffiest white mountain dog arrive, following Tabitha.

Rhiannon hiding? Perish the notion. Without a plate of food for her own, Delilah has space to work from. She lightly nudges her heel against the chair adjacent to her, a silent and friendly adjustment to allow her to rise. "I would be utterly delighted. Lady Olivia, we do have that berry picking to do, don't we? " Her eyes brighten in mirth, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. "We might have to ask your lady cousin to come along if we can convince her to step away from her duties. And, well." A surreptitious nod leaves her haloed hairpins blazing in light. Her gaze alights back Niklas-and-Sabella-ward, a trusty dimension on any compass. "I look forward to seeing your lovely plays, especially as childhood tales take on a new dimension when performed outside our imaginations. There's so much to be learned in that sense." Her lips touch into that playful arc of a smile. "Perhaps they might have a good... Oh, Lady Olivia, wait. You might secure Whisper Gianna's singing as a gift? Something to commemorate their work?" And because she has an intuitive grasp of things that sometimes flares out of nowhere, the elder Whitehawk turns to the entrance, looking over her shoulder.

Elizabetta, a disapproving lady-in-waiting have been dismissed.

Lily, an aloof lady-in-waiting have been dismissed.

2 Grayson House Guards have been dismissed.

Clark, an exasperated guard have been dismissed.

Laudine, a stern middle-aged maidservant have been dismissed.

2 Whitehawk Guards have been dismissed.

Princess Muffin, the fluffiest white mountain dog have been dismissed.

Into the dining hall comes Tabitha at a dainty half-trot, cheeks mildly flushed and her skirts swaying as she belatedly joins the gathering. But she's here! And the first thing she does is dip into little curtsies and little nods to everyone, with the unfocused gaze of someone who just entered a room and is super spooked at all the faces that may be looking her way. Because that's exactly the someone she is right now.

With a second, deeper curtsy to Niklas and Sabella, Tabitha smiles with genuine warmth. "Your highnesses. So good to see you both." Then she adds, "So good to see all of you." And then she's already glancing back to the Delilah, and will make a beeline towards her cousin if she can! And sit really close.

Pharamond stands up after a bit, waving over one of the servers. "You see....what had happened was the Duke's glass got emptied...into the Duke. And it's been at least five minutes since the whiskey refilled the glass so that what had happened can hap-happen again," he says, intoning playfully as he makes sure that his and the Duke's glasses are refilled. "I shall return," he offers to Malcolm warmly - for any man who has been a drinking companion Pharamond now calls friend. "I need to see that Rhi made it out alright and remind Olivia, based upon past experience, that food first, alochol second. When she does it the other way, I end up becoming a carriage service back to the House."

"So, ah, Olivia tol' us what she was doin. Meanwhile, Lady Lailah's workin on her answer I'll uh -- oh, lookit -- a Whitehawk lady arrives while our good hosts step away to tend t'things." Malcolm rises from the table in a rus, brimming with good cheer and waves for Tabitha. "Evening, Lady Tabitha. We were playin a game of, ah, what're we what up lately. It's yer turn now. I think Lord Pharmond's still got the whiskey an' he's pourin with a free hand. The Shepherd Duke asides, taking a seat with a refreshed glass of whiskey back in hand.

Minerva, the Northern Hawk Owl arrives, delivering a message to Olivia before departing.

Minerva, the Northern Hawk Owl arrives, delivering a message to Olivia before departing.

Olivia takes her seat while holding Delilah's hand a big goofy smile on her face. She apparently hasn't learned from past experience and didn't hear her uncle, because the first thing she reaches for is her wine glass. She does love a fine red, and of course the Grayson's would have the finest of reds in the land! She sees Tabitha approach and stands back up to offer a curtsey.

Gianna inclines her head slightly to Tabitha; her brows arch over the rim of her wineglass at Delilah's suggestion, but she says nothing.

Tabitha is indeed here! Not a moment too late or soon, especially with the hosts vanished into the aether. Nonetheless, plenty of food and drink await, especially a good whiskey, a bit of roast beef, and probably all the dessert one's mother refused to give them all at once. Delilah and Olivia are in close proximity to one another, Lailah subjected to the inquiry of 'what's your project' in polite and timely attacks. With Pharamond under the influence of dispensing drinks, surely all is well? Malcolm receives a flash of a smile out of Delilah, who extends her arm to her beloved cousin. The family resemblance there is in spectra of metal, for certain. "Would you like to find some kind of lovely cider or try this and see if it's floral enough for your tastes? You know me, no peat smoke in my drink." She swirls that around, and she inclines her head to Olivia. "Lady Olivia, my cousin Tabitha. Tabby, Lady Olivia Ashford. You should see her gardens. They will make you weep for their beauty. Believe me, I have been hastily considering designs on our own." Trees!

Pharamond sees to the guard and is told Rhiannon did slip off towards the Ashford House, and so he turns back and moves to the food table, getting some fruit and cheese and vegetables, and a bit of a starch, before bringing it over and politely settling it in front of Olivia. No words, just...hangover-softener. That's what he should call it. He says nothing though, otherwise, though anyone who is familiar with him in his early days should be most impressed that while having a bottle of whiskey to pour, he's also drinking his own out of a glass and not making the bottle his own personal glass. It's like Pharamond has turned over a new leaf...one fit for public company! That or it's just early still. One never knows with this particular Sword. "Well, my project is researching the lineage of our House Sword and it is slow going. Give me someone to spar with and I will make quick work, one way or another. But scrolls...there is a reason I train outdoors, regardless of the weather. I'm not a huge fan of walls. And I notice that it seems all the scrolls one could ever find are always kept in rooms with walls. This vexes me." Yes, he's terribly vexed.

There's a few blinks of mild 'just-arrived' confusion towards Malcolm before Tabitha smiles in an apologetic manner for her belated reply. "Oh, hello!" Then, in an attempt to keep things rolling, she launches straight in. "My turn? Oh, um. Painting. Joining Lord Jyri in doing some work for the Arvum Refugee Relief Group, and I believe there's a project Princess Sabella is working on at the moment. A fundraiser. I'll be involved with that." Once she's settled down near to Delilah, she nods to her cousin. "Cider? Yes, please." Then her attention turns to Olivia. "Lady Olivia, hello! That sounds lovely. I adore gardens. Such inspiration for my art." Then she looks around as though she's worried she's missed or ignored someone. Little mousey glances here and there. Shy people problems.

"I'd say that if anyone were t'secure the gifts of Miss Nightingale, they'd better have the deepest pockets and the most appreciation of her time an' talent. Golden and silver for the golden voice, mm?" Malcolm's smile quirks, curving upward with impishness, and the edges of his eyes crinkle with delight. "Lord Pharmond, this --" Malcolm gestures idly with his glass, whiskey swirling around before he takes a quick drink from it, "-- is why we're gonna be fast friends. Easy-goin and with a ready sense of humor always works f'me." He finishes the second glass and slides from his seat, to fetch a few sweets for himself that he can, err, blatantly tuck away into his pockets for later enjoyment. "There's a garden - eh? Ashford gardens? Are they the one with the orange thing? Orangery?" He picks apart a tart of some sort, slowly making for the table to sit down and agree with a grumble. "Papers, Lord Pharmond, are terribly vexin."

Olivia smiles to Tabitha, "How excellent! Lady Delilah has not stopped singing your praises to me, I am glad to finally meet the woman who garners so much respect from Delilah." She looks up as Pharamond drops off some food for her. She smiles, "Uncle you are so good to me." She eats some of her cheese before drinking some of her wine. She turns back to Tabitha and Delilah, but makes sure Pharamond can hear her, "Perhaps my uncle will be kind enough to escort us to the Orangery after this fine dinner party? I am sure you would enjoy it Lady Tabitha."

"Scrolls would have a sad time of it sitting outside exposed to the elements, Lord Pharamond. You may realize that though they originate from grasses and trees and reeds, the original methods are waterproof. Often the inks are. Transmute them to their current form and, alas, no. Piles of mush unprotected against the cruelty weather, time, and moisture hurl at them. You may once have had painted rocks and glorious frescoes showing the history you seek, but you'll only find your story in the songs, tales, and wonders written down by someone who liked ceilings." Shy people problems are apparently utterly and totally unknown to the explorer. Lilah twines her arm among Tabitha's and dials back on the overt flame-brightness to a basking satisfaction. "House Ashford does have an orangerie. I remember the opening that I missed. Didn't we both?" A glimpse to her cousin would confirm that. "Beautiful, though, I am certain. Especially on a summer's evening." Her dark lashes skim the lower, and she inclines her head gently to Olivia. "You are too kind. See, we are so fortunate to have good neighbours. I'd propose another toast but just say it outright. Drink if it please you: I am glad for all of you. No matter the times of turbulence and change, we are lucky for one another."

Gianna raises her wine glass in Malcolm's direction with an amused upward curve of her lips. She looks a bit smug, too. "Just so," she tells him. "And I was at the opening of the orangery; it is, indeed, beautiful." She tilts her head at Delilah's words and raises her glass again, to drink.

Malcolm checked composure at difficulty 13, rolling 8 lower.

"Mush --" Malcolm mouths to himself and laughs, loud, for seemingly no reason. "Ceilings ain't too bad, but, I prefer floors." He confides to the table. "Somewhere where where I can stand on m'own two feet." His shoulders tremor, dangerously, holding back another joyful laugh at his terrible play-on-words. "Mm, that orangerina sounds like it might be a pretty good place to take a turn or a walk or whatever nobles call it after eatin a meal. Though, ah, we -- are lucky --" he'll drink to that, finishing his second glass. Then, finishes, he is sliding up to his feet.

Pharamond nods his head, "Very, Your Grace," he says to the Duke, though looks at Delilah with a little chuckle. "No one asked you, defender of books and guardian of scrolls! Champion of the inked and written!" He says it like he's calling her out, in tone, but his smile is too wide and his stance far too over-done for him to actually be mad at Delilah. "You with your facts and your knowhow when I am trying to have a proper rant on a topic." And there it is, the draining of another glass though he hands the bottle to a servant and then sets his glass down. "I can show folks around if they would like after the party. It's not too far from here and for many it will be on their way home anyway." "But yes, fast friends indeed I hope," he says, to Malcolm, before sliding over to put an arm around Delilah and make sure she knows his jest. A warm smile is given to Tabitha as well should she notice, even though he's fairly certain he has not met her before.

Gianna's assistant slips into the room and seeks out Gianna, stooping to murmur something in the Nightingale's ear. Gianna nods, dabs her mouth delicately with a napkin, and rises from her seat. "Do excuse me," she murmurs, inclining her head to those gathered.

Olivia smiles at all the wonderful things people have to say about her special project, "I worked very hard cultivating all the plants in there. Some like the Dahlias are not even native to Avrum. It was a difficult project, but I am very proud of it. All of you all are welcome at any time. The Ashford house is open to all who call themselves friends." She takes another bite of cheese and a little fruit before sipping her wine.

Tabitha looks here. She looks there. She looks from one face to another with the sort of smiles that act as a polite placeholder to her own additions to the conversation, though it's clear she's still adjusting to the warm and chatty social climate of the room. Nod nod nods, very courteous, then she turns to Delilah and Olivia with a bright but distracted quirk of her lips. To Delilah, "Yes, I think we did find ourselves busy that day. Evening? A shame, really." And then when Pharamond moves next to Delilah, all arm-aroundsy, she smiles in equal warmth. To the room, "A walk does sound nice. I'd very much like to see the orangery at last."

Self-imposed exile this is not. The threat imposed upon Delilah's station brings her up from the table, rising in high dudgeon that pinches the flame-bright brilliance. "Do not force me to call you out to restore the honour of a proper library, for we both know the very atmosphere dips to crush us beneath its iron fist. Believe you me, Lord Pharamond, however keen that sword of yours..." She slides her fingertips into her hair, drawing out of one of the bodkins in all its lethal brilliance, sinuous edges and the roaring howl of the sea immortalized by the backbent crests fashioned by Dame Ida's glorious hand. Octavian, her Confessor, is already shifting in discomfort with no doubt the obvious intention to yank her by the arm away from trouble what with all the Grayson guards about, or facepalm, as is given for the stoic Inquisitor. Right, his task in life is apparently semi-immortal punishment bestowed by the Master of Questions. She twirls the device in her fingers and points it, nib first, at the Ashford. "Mine ignorance against your wit, an elegy scribed in parchment for your proesy sketched among waxen blooms and glossy leaves, barefoot by the candlelight of the everlasting stars." Her gaze brightens with those brilliant summer-sky eyes focused upon him, even as she circles around ... duel by penmanship, this very much is, high drama to give him the moment. Never mind, she's also been able to verbally duel down a Redrain count by standing on a table in the spirits. That's an event waiting to never be told again. "Our judge shall be Lady Olivia Ashford. Your witness is Lady Tabitha Whitehawk, right here. And Duke Malcolm shall be mine, to be sure in our divided states we do not break any rules or laws. Lady Olivia, escort them to the flower beds. No doubt you will have the surest view of any /shenanigans/." Subtle stress placed. Octavian is looking to the Sentinel somewhere on the ceiling for patience. "O duke, I set the terms, he sets the words. If it's to be this way, it's a barrel of wine or whiskey on the line. Now do pull me away 'ere I am accused of /heinous/ misdeeds, such as comma splices, run on sentences, or egregious defense of poetry."

"Tsk, by pen or book - hook or crook, verily, this Duke is shook." Malcolm's shown the absolute upper limit to his poetic abilities, although he offers his arm toward Delilah, "Inquisitor, you oughta be more inquisitive. Scholar, more scholarly. Voice -- aaah, less Voicey for now. If only to spare spearing Lord Pharmond with the point yer tryin t'make, my lady Lilah. Though, here, sounds like a bit of a challenge. Also, I dunno what a comma slice is - but, eh -- don't put that comma in anyone's shoulder, yeah? It's sharp."

Olivia looks between her uncle Pharamond and Delilah her eyebrows perked up. "Come now, surely we need not come to such vicious blows Lady Delilah." She grins a little. "Let us just enjoy a walk through the Orangery and leave such battles of wits and words for the enemies of Grayson. We are all allies and friends here after all are we not?" She sips her wine. Then kind of shrugs and finishes off her glass before pouring another. "Too bad we lost our whisper, I am not so good at mediating I think." She snacks on some more cheese, "So it is settled. Uncle Pharamond will be taking us to the Orangery." She grins a little again looking over to Pharamond.

Pharamond just shakes his head. "One day, Delilah." Nope, no lady on that one. Not because he's not mad, but because at that moment he speaks to a friend as it were. "I swear you're going to get a dagger that I'm going to call Quill and I'm going to make sure it looks like one too." He just shakes his head and looks to Tabitha and Olivia. "I'm not sure I know exactly what this challenge is but I know where the Orangery is so come on. I'll take my lickings from the scribe slash poet slash storyteller. What's that...a scroeteller? Well, whatever Lady Whitehawk is, let us be off so this can be settled and we can get back to simpler things..." Though as he walks along heading for the exit he adds, "By the way. Aren't elegies rather serious? I would think something more playful would fit the night. Something in a pentameter or such? There once was a Lord from Ashford...a Sword some might call a bastard...He picked the wrong fight on house fealty night, and was never then seen aft'wards..."

After Delilah's brilliant speech, the other Lady Whitehawk just looks to her cousin with a gentle smile on her lips, and lifts a hand as if to say, 'My cousin, guys. This is how brilliant she is.' There's also a hint of glassy-eyed panic inching across her expression, though. That expression seems to scream, 'Oh Gods, how do I follow that up'. And so instead of saying anything, she just stands and shakes her skirts out with the grip of dainty fingers, and murmurs in question, "So. Orangery, then?"

A playful grin turns up. Oh, fear the terrifying Whitehawk. "I am trying to learn to be imposing or fraught! I don't think that I achieve it very well, though, other than doing the audacious. That's not exactly frightening though!" Her bodkin-pen goes right back among its sisters, all six radiant for the brighter. She loops her arm around Malcolm's, and for that Delilah is back to her mercurial, playful self. "I promise to be less like my kitten and more like myself, you needn't worry about that." Her kitten? It's not Cabbit taking up residence. Well, off he goes, technically she's with him.

Laudine, a stern middle-aged maidservant, 2 Whitehawk Guards, Princess Muffin, the fluffiest white mountain dog leave, following Tabitha.

Olivia, Tabitha leave, following Pharamond.

1 Inquisition Confessors, Scribble, a Delicate Social Butterfly, 1 Bisland pride guards leave, following Delilah.