Seryna, a charming Lycene handmaiden, 6 Grimhall House Guards arrive, following Vanora.

She's not a crafter, but Alarissa is certainly someone who spends a great amount of coin on the crafters in the city. So the Princess Consort of Thrax is no surprise, in attendance as she walks with Maxene to start peering at the cases. "Master Apollo borrowed my arm, to put on display. Sucha beautiful piece." She murmurs, looking about to see who else is present that she knows.

Felix has arrived in similar fashion; less of actual craft and more just a presence here to support the efforts of the Guild, and support those who have dedicated themselves to the displays. He stands by the doors, greeting those who arrive with a bow or an offered shake of the hand and an easy smile. And, despite being somewhat cleaned up, still has the smell of the forge about his person, and smudges of charcoal over his forearms. Held lightly in his left hand, a sheathed glaive, carried more out of habit than any thoughtful need at current, but it does at least demonstrate, perhaps, some sort of weapons craft. Even if not his own.

Mabelle arrives into the palace clad with a combination of what the crafters of the city had to offer, in constant support of them. She makes her way through the crowds and the cases, smiles and offers a greeting here and there. Her eyes instantly drawn to the steelsilk gown and she stands there for a long moment, admiring the piece

Apollo is of course in attendance, and he's got several displays - he's minding his own, but also the display of armor on offer for the raffle, a case of collaborations (which is largely materials - spidersilk, Oakhide, mirrorsilver, luxury brocade), and a large bag of various repair supplies for the inevitable mishap or display malfunction. When he sees Alarissa pass, he bows to her and smiles brightly.

Emele too is in attendance with a display of her own. Perhaps unusually, her display contains paintings rather than the actual armour they're of - but paintings notably lighter than metal, and a painting of alaricite costs nothing like the real thing.

The Duchess-Consort of Grihem's Point is no crafter herself either, though she certainly has a taste for the well-made and occasionally the silver to indulge in those tastes. She arrives dressed in brocade the colors of the sea at night, an elaborate creation complimented by accessories and jewels. At her side is young Orchid, a ladies-maid to Lady Sanya Grimhall and clear friend of the families. "I'm so pleased you invited me along to show off the wonders of this event, Orchid dear. I hope if there are members of the crafter's guild whom I have not yet met, you will introduce me." There's a smile for the young woman.

"Master Apollo. I see the guild has been hard at work." Alarissa stops when he bows to her. "Has sa new guidlmaster been chosen yet? I am sure the city waits with breath held." Alarissa offers a smile, a dip of her head to the man.

As the visitors to the faire gathered in the hall, Ilsa stepped through and between visitors and displays, most of her attention seeming to be focused on the arms and armor, none of which she seemed to be going anything more than looking at. She did pause, though, at the mannequins displaying the delightful swatch of blue velvet.

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

Apollo shakes his head at Alarissa, shifting to lean against his display a moment. "Not yet," he says. "We've started voting though. I think we'll know who's got it in the next days." A bright grin follows as his eyes sweep the faire. "This business here has certainly impressed me about the amount of work involved."

Tanith arrives with the rest of the common folk that come with the promise of wares and activity. The cooler autumn day has her wearing a lovely coat with ivory buttons, the bartender's dark eyes taking in the goods at one Crafter's booth, moving to the next, observing more than shopping. She nods at them she knows from her work at the Murder, maybe even a word of greeting and a smile or two, but for the most part she just takes it in.

As she travels between the cases, Mabelle notices Vanora and Alarissa, faces she's not seen in quite some time. A smile is easily spread on her likes, Princess, Duchess, what a boon to see you this afternoon, it has been far too long". In the meantime she pauses by Apollo's case, resting her eyes on a bee knight, squinting in wonder.

Upwards at Vanora Orchid smiles a little and murmurs "If I know them, my Duchess, I will. I don't get to involved in crafters' guild things. This seemed like something you'd enjoy." Around ORchid peeps, not seeming like she, for the moment, plans on leaving Vanora's side. She doesn't go far when a Grimhall is around. "Eveyone makes lovely things. I considered setting up a dispay but I don't do much for crafting, only when I have spare time. So, it seemed silly to set myself up to be approached for commissions when I am unlikely to get things done in any sort of timely manner."

As she travels between the cases, Mabelle notices Vanora and Alarissa, faces she's not seen in quite some time. A smile is easily spread on her likes, "Princess, Duchess, what a boon to see you this afternoon, it has been far too long". In the meantime she pauses by Apollo's case, resting her eyes on a bee knight, squinting in wonder.

A display case with a leather sign is now unlocked.

And here's Sister Raya Vishel, a gentle smile causing her nose to crinkle in good cheer as she slowly peers here and there at all the crafts assembled around the palace entrance hall -- and at the entrance hall too, for that matter. How beautiful it is! For this occasion she's dressed simply but well, seeking not to draw too much attention, but also not to look scruffy or poorly dressed (Gods forbid!). Over grey cotton leggings and black ankle boots, she wears a long sleeved robe of sky-blue cotton that sets off her eyes and the upbound locks of her auburn hair.

Apollo puts Apollo's handsome Oakhaven inspired steel adze in A display case with a leather sign.

A display case with a leather sign is now locked.

"Lady Laurent. A pleasure. Have you seen Mistress Talia's work? Breathtaking. As is master Apollo's work and in truth, everyone elses that's here. The guild has outdone itself." Alarissa looks to Apollo. "You should see the jewlery this man makes up in his mind. Astounding. It left me weeping."

Dame Marra, a limping fennec fox, Disciple Ismay, Disciple Fulgence, 3 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Ailith.

Talia's work, certainly, is drawing attention and a crowd. She frowns, muttering something worried to herself as someone draws a little too close to the steelsilk. The crafter, though, doesn't move to stop the noble. She just watches from the wall sideline she's chosen, with those brown puppy eyes.

Apollo gestures at the case. "I was very grateful that you let me display it, your highness," he says. "Though having seen it on you - I think that is where it's the loveliest." He glances at Mabelle, brows lofting, and then looks back at the case, as if to wonder what's piqued her interest.

"It's wonderful to see you to, Lady Mabelle, it does seem like it has been ages. I've heard you've been spending time with my Archduchess Cousin, which fills me with the most horrible envy as I have missed both of you a great deal." Vanora responds to the Lady Laurent with mirth in her voice, if she's green with envy its well hidden behind playfulness. A respectful half-curtsey is aimed at the Princess-Consort of Thrax. "It has been a long time as well, Highness. I do hope that you and your family are thriving. You look quite lovely." Talia's work draws moe attention as Vanora and Orchid meander towards the mannequin display. "This gown of course is to die for. I'm once again blown away by the talent on display here today."

Mabelle chuckles at Vanora, "I do not spend as much time with her as I should like to, but perhaps something can be arranged, for the three of us, I'd love nothing more". She regards Alarissa in marvel, "Mistress Talia's work always leaves me breathtaken and I am proud to say I have one of her artwork hanging in my wardrobe, waiting for the right moment. But I did not know Apollo makes jewelry", she eyes him in almost accusation. Smiling however, she points at the display's Lord Buzz and asks him, "What is that?"

As Ilsa saw more and more attention being paid to the steelsilk gown, she stepped aside, clearly not wishing to block anyone's view of the wonderful work on display. Her expression was bright and curious though, observing the crafts on display as much as she was those who were wandering the halls taking in the wares. It took supreme effort to move beyond that, but she was soon wandering the hall once again.

Ras walks in through the gates into the grand entrance hall of the palace, clearly attempting a casual stroll that is not at all a skulk. At least he's dressed in a way that can pass in the Crown district without looking as if he's about to steal silverware. He sticks with the other commoners in the place, milling about until he can get a sense of things and see people he'd recognize.

Apollo dips his head at Mabelle. "I don't usually make jewelry, my lady. Nor did I craft that - I designed it, and a wonderful jeweler named Ephrath fabricated it, advising me on the... peculiarities of working with metal and stone. I'm no jeweler." He grins a moment. He glances back at Lord Buzz, and then there's a moment of laughter. "Oh, gods. Ah - you know, that was sort of a joke. Duke Cristoph gave that to me, and asked that I display it openly." He lifts a shoulder. "I couldn't say no."

A bow is given to Alarissa and Mabelle by Orchid, who seems content just to stand quietly. She steps away briefly to go find an assortment of snacks and drinks to put upon a tray. She then returns to Vanora's side, silently offering the tray to first Vanora then Alarissa then Mabelle. Clearly it is level of importance to Orchid to how she offers.

Emele lurks by the display of paintings of armour, smiling warmly. Trying to hide her nerves about being here and doing this, she's only partially succeeding.

"I suppose less jewelry and more... art. It would seem that it gnawed at him that while I chose his arm design, that it was not the... art that I was looking for. And some weeks ago, he had this delivered. His collaboration. I think I scared his Grace, who caught me weeping like some foolish young girl over it." Lord Buzz is regarded with a raised brow and a shake of her head. "I shall leave you both to talk further and i'll not monopalize Master Apollo. There's much more to look at here. I shall be back by the shop soon to see a new harness made. Of oakhide of course." Alarissa turns, the to the tray and lifts a hand to Orchid. 'Thank you but no." Before moving off to look at other cases.

Dame Marra, a limping fennec fox, Disciple Ismay, Disciple Fulgence, 3 Templar Knight guards leave, following Ailith.

Mabelle gratefully collects a drink from Orchid, smiling to her, "Thank you". She curves her lips to Alarissa, "I can understand why such would be emotional for you. After all". A bow of her head and her eyes direct to Apollo, "Its alright, I was teasing you. Cristoph asked you to display it? Who made it? It has the boy's name on it".

Michael is a bit of a late arriver to the palace and its expansive faire. He isn't particularly taken aback by the excessive crowds, and begins to circulate to gaze upon the various things put on display. Perhaps with a mind to buy.

Vanora takes one of the drinks Orchid offers with a smile. "Thank you so much darling." She states to the young woman, before turning her attention back to Mabelle. "That would be absolutely wonderful. There's so much I'd like to catch up with her on but it cannot always be business. Mostly I miss my cousin, my kin beyond the Isles, and wish to draw those relationships closer. I expect in times when there is threat of danger we all feel so about our families. If a time and date can be arranged say the word, I shall be there."

Of course, as is going to happen when one's a keen admirer of fashion, Raya's somehow drawn straight over to Talia's work of art. The Godsworn doesn't get too close, of course, but she stands close enough that she can view the dress through wide eyes. Placing her fingertips over her mouth to stifle a little gasp of admiration, the copper-haired Sister blinks a few times before she silently claps her upturned hands together in a few quick flutters. "That grown is exquisite," she breathes, turning to flash a beaming smile at Talia.

Ilsa finally made her way towards where the paintings were being displayed, her smile warm and bright, as she glanced towards the crafter (Emele) she assumed was the one responsible for the work, "These are absolutely stunning paintings, Goodwoman." She offered the title, such as it was, with respect, and with a beat of hesitation, as though she were not certain if it was the correct one for the other woman, "The helmet is particularly striking."

'Isn't it?" Alarissa comes to as top beside Raya. "Breathtaking. Makes me wish that I could take it off the form and take it home."

Apollo ducks his head, gives a grim smile. "Guilty as charged," he says to Alarissa. "It drove me absolutely mad." But then he smiles. "Do have a lovely time." He turns back to Mabelle, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I don't actually know anything else about it - I just did as he asked." A smile follows, and then he lifts his chin. "I think I'm going to be doing a bit of a demonstration of care of leathers in a bit, if you're interested. I know you have some very fine pieces, Lady Mabelle." He doesn't wink, but, ah, he doesn't have to?

Talia flushes at Raya's smile, at the compliment she offers. Especially when the Princess-Consort chimes in. She clears her throat, opening her mouth to say something. It is a false start, nothing immediately coming out before she nods and finally offers a quiet, "Thank you. I cannot claim all of the credit, however. My inspiration came from the Assembly, and the woman Prism who spoke. It's supposed to represent her."

Cufre joins the Faire in full swing. As she begins to make her way through the crowd, she gravitates toward the displays.

Emele's smile brightens at Ilsa's words, and her skin goes two shades darker. "Thank you!" she replies. "The one with the wings was the first thing I made after attaining my mastery. The crested one was a commission." And then a smile. "I'm hoping I'll get some more commissions today, with recent events around Arvum."

Mabelle grins at Vanora, "As her new Protege I shall endevour to bring her closer to family. I will discuss it with her next I see her". She concurs with Apollo and notes, "I do indeed have some fine pieces, me and Cupcake both should listen to that". Regarding Talia's comments about the gown she inquires, "Who is it for though? You will sell it eventually, I assume? It is magnificent"

Vanora murmurs back to Raya, "Isn't it? I've seen few things so captivating. The urge to touch the fabric is so strong I may need Orchid to hold my hand and keep me proper." Her smile is self-deprecating and she nods to Alarissa as well, as if acknowledging that universal truth further. "Me too. I bet it is stunning when worn, the lines moving about, swirling with the steps of a dance maybe." When Talia speaks further on the garment Vanora aims her attention there. "Ah but how many of us have seen Prism? And how many have created gowns that are this breathtaking from that inspiration. No need for undue humility, you have earned the admiration for your work a dozen times over. You are Talia yes? The famed seamstress and Princess Berenice's protege. A good eye for talent, on Berenice. I'm sure she is beyond proud."

Scout Rowenova shows up with several swaths of untailored umbra upon one arm while Sir Floppington follows along after him. In her Northern voice, the arriving lass pipes up, "Who wants to design a dress for our new Duchess in House Halfshav? I have all the umbra, and I have silver for the designs!"

A dip of her head is given at Alarissa's declining of the offered drinks then a smile si given to Mabelle, "Just ask if you have need of anything more, my lady." Then to Vanora she gives a smile to her and says, "Any time, my Duchess, I thought you might be getting to the point of needin a drink or a light snack." Her life as a servant is clearly startign to peek through. To Apollo she glances and gives a light grin and notes to both Vanora and Mabelle, "Apollo does most wodnerful work. He makes all my shoes. I do furniture for him in exchange." Vanora gets a subtly amused look from Orchid, "My Duchess, I don't think I could stop you doing what you wanted unless you wanted me too. But, I'll always strive to meet your expectations of me."

Ilsa stepped closer, though she never came close enough to touch any of the artwork, studying the paintings in greater detail. "I do not know if I could afford anything so fine, but your work makes me think of a few ideas for a piece or two which I might wish for a gift for my patron." She laughed, the sound self-effacing, "I am afraid I have no skill with armor or weapons myself."

Talia dips her chin as Vanora identifies her, murmuring a quiet, exasperated "hush!" under her breath. She flushes afterwards, realizing she said it outloud, before she apologizes to the Duchess-Consort, "I am sorry. I did not mean you. Your words are very much appreciated, my lady. And if you wish to touch the gown, please do. Just-- make sure your hands are clean." A pause, before she blurts out a quick, stammered, "Not that I think a lady of your stature would ever have dirty hands!"

Apollo checked dexterity + tanning at difficulty 9, rolling 47 higher.

With her hands clasped over her heart, Raya smiles once more first to Talia, and then to Alarissa and Vanora. To the nobles, she dips into a half-curtsy-half-bow of graceful elegance before she nods in concert with the words being spken. "I wasn't present to witness Prism's appearance at the assembly, but I did hear that she was quite magnificent. No wonder your gown is so stunning." The light in her eyes is warm and gentle as she stands back a few paces to allow Alarissa and Vanora to have a better look.

"The name of the woman, I am sure incites much inspiration." Alarissa lingers for a few moments more before she offers a smile to Raya and is off to the next display and make room for others to crowd the dress.

Grinning at Talia Vanora admits, "Only on the rarest of occasions. You are in luck however as my hands are currently gloved, and the gloves are brand new, have not had a chance to even collect dust, and any on my skin protected. Though that wouldn't give me an impression of the feel, it will of the weight and drape at least." A smile, and then she does look more closely at the steelsilk gown displayed, letting a gloved hand trace down the neckline and brush the skirts to see how they shift with movement. "It is absolutely exquisite in every way. I will step back so others can see, and to prevent salivating." A jest clearly, Duchess' do not salivate or admit to it publicly at least.

Emele smiles. "Quality steel is rarely /that/ expensive, relatively speaking," she says warmly. "And the smaller items - gauntlets, boots, bracers - don't use much of it. And I believe my artistry is offered at a sensible price. But everything's relative, when it comes down to it - and that's one reason I'm here in Arx, rather than somewhere less favoured by the fashionable set."

From his own display, Apollo admires the gown that's drawn so many eyes with a quiet smile. Then he lifts his voice to the crowd in general. "I've yet got raffle tickets! If you haven't got yours and you'd like to, come with whatever sort of resources you'd like, or an equivalent sum in silver!"

Mabelle smiles to Raya, "She was quite a vision. I noticed her as soon as she entered the room. I just wanted to take all of her clothes and run away", she chuckles and then confirms to Orchid, "Very talented, I own quite a few pieces myself". She begins to circle the room observing the displays and the instruction about cleaning, drinking wine and honouring the crafters which exchanging words with some acquintances.

Ras continues to lurk around a while, gaze landing here and there with recognition - for a long moment, he watches Raya, but makes no effort to draw her attention. Finally he wanders over to Apollo's display and upnods the tanner with a fleeting smile.

Maxene, the steadfast ladies maid, Pellinor, 3 Thrax Guards, 2 Thrax Elite Guards leave, following Alarissa.

Vanora addresses Apollo and fumbles in a velvet reticule. "Here then. However many raffle tickets or the like this buys for myself and Grimhall, and we will see if we are winners today, or not so much. Either way, the cause is a good one."

Ilsa laughed, her voice merry, "Yes, I am finding that since coming to Arx everything seems relative, compared to what I once knew. This city is such a wonder. I would never nave seen such exquisite works as what I am seeing today at home."

2 Redrain Guards, Lucien, a bright-eyed pine marten arrive, following Helena.

Michael is overheard praising Apollo.

"I normally find Assemblies so dull, I only go because I feel like it's my civic duty," murmurs Talia, admittingly to Raya. She flushes as she says it, but she watches Vanora and the steelsilk for a moment. Of course, gloved and careful, there's nothing that could happen to it. Especially given the durability of steelsilk. It even feels cool like steel, through gloves.

"Where is home, mistress?" Vanora inquires of Ilsa, her steps back from hovering around the gown leading her to the rest of the mingling group. "Where I grew up was nearly as fine a city, and some would say finer I think, but they could be biased. I am Duchess Vanora Grimhall, formerly of House Pravus. Raised in Setarco."

Apollo offers a bow to Vanora, exchanging the notes she gives him for a ticket, once he's consulted his ledger and written a number-range on it. "There you are - I wish you the best of luck, Duchess, and you have the thanks of the guild for your generosity." He smiles, and tucks the notes into a small pouch kept on his belt.

Emele smiles at Ilsa. "If you want to make a name for yourself across the Compact, then Arx is really where you have to be," she says. "And that goes for most fields, not just armoursmithing."

Apollo checked dexterity + tanning at difficulty 9, rolling 50 higher.

Along side Vanora ORchid keeps travelling silent now. A smll cant of her head is given then a nod to Vanora before ORchid steps away a moment to murmur to Apollo.

Noting that the tanner is busy with the duchess, Ras makes no further effort to catch his eye, and moves a few steps down to study a certain item in the display - a jewelers janus hammer. He takes a long moment staring at it, and makes an attempt to pocket both hands as he leans back. It's a habitual gesture that finds no purchase on the current pair of pants he wears.

Raya laughs softly at Talia's comment, nodding once. "I admit, I have to attend or else I'd feel like I'm missing out on important news. But I can understand what you mean. Some of the finer points of bureaucracy can be a little tedious." With a flitter of a smile, the Sister bows her head. "Oh, Sister Raya Vishel, by the way. A pleasure to meet you."

Cufre places her hand over the turquoise and copper piece in the leather display case. As soon as her hand touches the case, she withdraws it, blinking.

"That is my hope, Goodwoman. I have skill in herbs and such things as can be made into perfumes and the like, but there does seem to be a market for it. I am Ilsa, by the by. I have been rude not to introduce myself."

And when notices Ras, it's out of the corner of her eyes and with a slight twitch of her nose. She looks over to him for a fleeting second or two, and then averts her gaze.

Apollo nods faintly at Emele. "I couldn't agree more. I never made the sort of coin or garnered the sort of attention back home that I have here. Not that I would ever speak ill of my home, but it's a different sort of place, here." He smiles brightly at Ras. "Hello Ras! What's caught your eye?" He blinks, leans toward Orchid to hear her murmur, and whispers something back.

And when RAYA notices Ras, it's out of the corner of her eyes and with a slight twitch of her nose. She looks over to him for a fleeting second or two, and then averts her gaze.

Talia nods to Vanora, murmuring something quietly before the noblewoman moves away. She exhales a nervous breath, a giddy hint to it, even as she smiles to Raya brightly. "Talia Baseborn. It's a pleasure, sister," she greets. "Oh! I think I have heard you are looking for a tailor?"

Something in Talia's murmur has Vanora beaming before she murmurs back as she steps away.

Emele inclines her head deeply to Vanora. "Duchess," she greets the woman politely, then gestures towards her display case of paintings of armour. "Could you or yours make use of artwork in steel, in rubicund, in diamondplate or alaricite, to protect as well as present?" And then to Isla, another smile. "Perfumes? Yes, I can imagine those just fly off the shelves, especially in summer. Arx has its own special scent in summer."

Apollo checked dexterity + tanning at difficulty 9, rolling 57 higher.

"Hey Apollo," says Ras, with a less-bright smile. He glances for a split second at the hammer again, and then back to the tanner, and there's a subtle headshake. "Nothin." While he's scuffing a step back, that's when he notices Raya's sidelong twitch of her nose. Knitting his brow, he stares her way for a longer span of time.

Apollo's eyes study Ras and wonder, for a moment, then look back to his case. He leans close after for a brief murmur to the guy.

Entering the hall, Helena smiles when she sees those gathered. She heads over to the displays to begin looking at the wares. Ras' nervous hands make her grin just a little and she nods to the young man but doesn't interrupt him in his attempt at starting a conversation with Apollo. Her eyes go back to examining the items, happily lost in appreciation of beauty and craftsmanship.

Holding the umbra in both arms, Nova walks the line. "Would anyone like to potentially make good money on a fancy umbra dress design. One without the Renewable Lace, but for more serious moments?"

A few steps towards Isla brings the Duchess Grimhall close enough to chat with her, which she does in a low voice.

Johannes, A tall and red cloaked gentleman, A slightly embarrassed courier called Guido arrive, following Martino.

If Ilsa had looked entranced by the display, she looked positively delighted as she heard the man who stood not far from her now (Apollo) speak, "A voice from home." The accent she knew as well as she knew her own, for they were the same. She might not know the man, personally, but a kinsman was a kinsman, no matter how tenuous the connection might be. "Then I will have to work through the winter, Goodwoman to be ready for the summer." And then, in particular Ilsa fashion, she excused herself, to approach Apollo. She'd have to wait her turn for the introduction, but that was alright.

The commander made his way through the Faire with a faint smile worn on his lips, but it was just a touch of a thing. This was..busy. But he spotted his friend through the crowd and made his way over. Settling along side Apollo, he land a hand on the man's shoulder and leaned in with a faint grin.

Ras refocuses on Apollo and there's a duck of his head and a quiet smile at the tanner's murmured words. Nodding, he doesn't take up any more time at the busy display, and moves on - to approach Raya near Talia's work.

Despite Ras' staring in the background, Raya's tone is still light and genial as she nods at Talia's words. "Oh, I am *always* looking for a tailor, Mistress Talia." Her laughter is sweet when she adds, "And perhaps one day I shall be fortunate enough to own a piece of your wonderful craftsmanship." Finally, after a few moments, she turns her head towards Ras and flutters a little finger wave at him, smiling in a way that's just a little less friendly than the one directed at Talia.

Stepping along with a click of his leather cloafers, the Lord Martino Malvici stepped quietly around the wares on show. Around a display case to start, a pleased curl of his lips as he leaned in closer to murmur hushed, "Mmm... oh such fine and delightful craft. Truly." Martino's sharp green eyes creasing, pleased, at the delightful daring of the mini-dress on show.

Apollo's brow flickers with an equal recognition, lighting on Ilsa after a moment - but his comment is cut short at Rane's close approach and murmur. The smile he gives the Keaton man is entirely warm. "I'm glad you did, Lord Rane," he says. "You should look in my case - some of those pieces are on loan from the people they were made for, I don't always have them." That's the case with the leather sign, of course. To Lord Martino, he dips his head. "That one is for sale, actually - " but his eyes catch on Ilsa again. "I'm sorry, you look /very/ familiar. You're from about Oakhaven, aren't you? Or... perhaps you've just got one of those faces."

Ilsa, having stopped her advance on Apollo, turned with a friendly smile to the woman who leaned in to speak to her, listening with intent, before she leaned in to reply herself.

"You weren't looking for shirts--?" Talia bites at her lower lip, chewing slightly as she tries to remember something. "Oh." She flushes deeply, distracted from the less than friendly greeting that Ras gets by her own little world of embarrassment. "You wanted training, wasn't it? I have some amount of proficiency that I could teach you. It was Mistress Orchid that wanted shirts. I'll have to write her after the fair." She does nod to Ras as he joins them and the crowd around her steelsilk gown, but she doesn't do more.

Vanora overhears bits and pieces and then says to Talia, "Ah yes, Mistress Orchid does want shirts, and should you complete any for her send the bill directly to me, if you would."

Rane smiled back at Apollo, equally as warm and did swing by that case and looked over the wares. "My truest compliments!" And then he was away!

"Raya," says Ras in a greeting that sounds less genuinely congenial and more sort of grudging. His tone carries a downtoned curiosity. "Haven't seen you in forever. Back in Arx, huh?" He shifts his weight into one boot with a nod back at Talia, even though he doesn't even look once at the steelsilk gown.

Hearign Vanora's order Orchid glances over to her and looks a mix of pleased and embarassed by her words, "I was going to pay for them myself, my Duchess. You're always so kind to me." She is still murmuring to Apollo outside that comment.

Looking around, Nova drapes the umbra over one shoulder before she walks down the display line and passes out small notes of black ink on beige paper with apparent reference to petition 882.

Straightening up, Martino's teeth presses against his lower lip as he turns his chin to Apollo. "Ah for what cost?" Martino's head tilted as he glanced to it once more, mulling over the idea. "Mm a fine day to you there Lord Rane." Bowing his torso slightly, Martino greeted the Keaton Lord before his sharp greens creased pleased at Cufre's presence, "Messere Cufre! A delight and... well I am yet to see Kaia but your delightful craft was here in Arx when I returned from Southport."

Rane gave Martino a smile, "My lord! Yes, we must talk soon."

Nod-nod, soft and gentle. Raya's lips turn up at the corners at talia's offer, and within the Sister's eyes is a small spark of satisfaction. "That would be wonderful. I'd be sure to compensate you, of course." She turns then, just in time to face Ras, and makes a little hmmmm sound through pursed lips and wrinkled nose. When she speaks, in a soft but not unkind tone. "I am, Ras. You've been behaving yourself, I hope?" There's no real bite in her words. Clearly she knows him.

Ilsa laughed, dipping Apollo a polite half-curtsey, "I am from just north of Oakhaven, though I had the pleasure to visit the city a few times in my youth. But I am terribly glad to meet someone else from home. I thought Lord Rohran might be my sole link to home within the city." Which told how many of the noble family she knew.

Apollo dips his head to Martino. "One hundred twenty thousand, together as a set with the shoes," he says. After one more murmur from Orchid, he nods, then straightens tall, lifts his voice. "A very generous donation from House Grimhall means we have two pieces of onyx to offer in our raffle! If you haven't got your tickets, come see me - I'll be drawing at the end of the faire!"

"No, no. I could never take silver from a sister of the Faith," Talia exhales quietly, shaking her head. "The Faith teaches us all to be kind and generous. I don't take coin at all for giving freely what I get freely." After, she falls silent. She does glance from Ras to Raya as they converse, but her attention draws away with a quiet murmur under her breath.

Helena makes her way over to Apollo, reaching to touch Martino's shoulder in a greeting as she does. "Lord Martino, how good to see you. Master Apollo! I have been meaning to buy tickets and thought I was too late, so thank you for that invitation." She reaches into the little silk drawstring pouch she carries and pulls out the paper writs to hand him. "I have the most terrible luck, but I know that it will go to a good cause, at least, when I don't win," she says, blue eyes sparkling a bit.

Cufre dips her head at Martino's enthusiastic greeting. "Thank you, my lord." There's a deep blush in her cheeks when she looks to him. "I feel awful for how long it took. It makes me appreciate the work of my guildmates even more. I'm afraid commissions just aren't for me."

Ras slits his eyes very slightly at Raya. "Oh yeah," he tells her, after a second or two. "I'm the best behaved person in Arx." He pulls a wide smile, then lets it fall as he glances back to Talia. There's a step back from her display, as it's very busy near such legendary work.

Apollo smiles at Ilsa. "Ah, good - if you know Lord Rohran, we'll likely see each other a bit, then. I came up in House Keaton, and count them all as my family. Much as I've ever had." He nods his head. "Did I hear you say you're a crafter? I'm the assistant guildmaster, at the moment." He turns toward Helena, and takes her notes, counts them up, makes a few notations in his ledger. On a single ticket, he notes down a range of numbers, and hands that over to her, with a bow. "Thank you very much, your highness - your generosity is greatly appreciated."

"Princess Helena! My... it has been far-far too long to have been in the delightful company of the fine Redrain." Martino's right hand shifted to his heart, fingertips spreading over it as he greeted Helena's touch before bowing his head to Cufre, "Oh it is quite-quite alright. Matters change and, well, she still has no idea so will be shocked."

"Good," Raya says to Ras, flashing a quick and seemingly pleasant grin. Then it's back to Talia with another dip of her head. "And that is a very kind offer, Mistress Talia. I look forward to seeing you again. But I'll provide the tea and cakes, at least?" With that she turns back to Ras and arches an eyebrow. "I'll want to talk to you soon as well. We should catch up. And you might even get tea and cake too. Who knows." She wags a finger at Ras before she announces her departure with a beaming smile, more to Talia than anyone else. "I must be away, though I'll take a quick tour of the hall first. Farewell. Mistress Talia, Ras." A dip of her head to both, and then she's away.

With a kiss to Orchid's cheeck Vanora states to the young woman, "Thank you so much for dragging me away from working this evening to come and see this, we know the crafters of Arx are impressive but to see their works all together in one place truly sends that message home. I enjoyed meeting those of you I had the chance to, and hope it won't be the last we'll be seeing of one another." With that the Duchess-Consort and her guards make their way out of the Palace.

After some time, Nova sits down on a bench within the hall and hugs the umbra while curiously watching the goings on.

"Of course, sister," Talia agrees quietly, nodding. As she is left with Ras, she smiles hesitantly, tucking a hair behind her ear before she glances around the room and the crowd.

Sir Floppington the soulful hound pads around, looking at all the displays. Momentarily, he stops to gaze up at the rainbow steelsilk with might seem to be a look of awe before he pads to where Apollo is.

Ilsa, looking quite proud, though it seemed less about herself and more in regards to the Keaton Lord they were speaking of, nodded, "He has taken me as one of his proteges. I am quite fortunate in that regard." The smile she offered brightened, as Apollo named himself the assistant guildmaster, "You must be Goodman Apollo Oakwood!" Aha, a name to put to the familiar voice and less familiar face, "I am indeed a crafter, though I have never before been a member of a guild, until I came here. I am an apothecary by vocation, as well as a physician."

"Thank you!" Helena says to Apollo, taking the slip of paper. "Ah, you're too kind. I hope you and your wife are doing well?" she says warmly, before smiling at Cufre's apology. "Some people work better when inspiration strikes rather than when it is invited, I think. There's no shame in that." Sir Floppington is recognized and Helena crouches down to give him some scritches and looks around for Rowenova with a smile.

Talia's brows knit together, frowning, as she stares at Sir Floppington padding away from her display. Then she shakes her head, as if dismissing the thought.

Apollo tucks a clutch of resource notes into the pouch on his belt, then crouches to give Sir Floppington a good petting. It's impossible not to. He nods at Helena, then smiles up at Ilsa. "Oh, good. Yes, I'm Apollo - sorry, I should ah - probably lead with that, shouldn't I." A grin follows. "It's lovely to know someone who's good with healing. I'm a bit spoilt, having the Marquessa around."

Ras scratches his head, tugs at a feather braided into his hair, and offers an uncertain smile back to Talia. "You're a - uh, tailor," he says, maybe trying to make small talk. "Who're you gonna vote to be the next guildmaster?" Maybe not great at small talk.

Sir Floppington happily accepts those pets from Helena and Apollo, doing so with a grateful look in his soulful eyes. He gently presses his soft noggin into any hands which might touch his ears or cheeks or muzzle. Meanwhile, Rowenova cannot help but let out a quick laugh about Talia's headshake there before she up nods toward Helena, doing so with a smile of her own.

"Mmm... and how is the Lord Rane Keaton to work with?" Martino's voice carried to Ilsa for a moment, gaze upon her curious upon the answer before murmuring to reply to Helena, "Oh very well, she has fully recovered now and then some. Lycene life has taken her by utter storm... truly. We are so much more fun." A teasing twist up of Martino's lips to Helena as he joked hushed.

Talia blushes, stammering a little as she answers and explains, "Oh, uhm. I voted for Master Oakwood. I think that Brother Meadson's focus would be split, between the Faith and the Guild." A pause, before she adds quietly, "And Myrinda doesn't trust Lycenes."

"I am certain I am not so skilled as the Marquessa, but I shall aspire to be, in time. And I am always glad to offer my services. I am working out of the clinics at the moment, helping where I might in the Lower Boroughs." She sounded quite proud of that, in fact. The question posed her by another unknown person (Martino) only brought a shake of her head, "I am afraid I know, of the Keatons, only Lord Rohran, though I am to meet the Marquessa soon, in her role as guildmistress."

Cufre There's another nod of her head before Cufre says to Martino, "I can't say enough how much I appreciate your kindness, my lord. Your piece was more of a challenge than I would have guessed." She smiles at Helena, "Yes, your highness. I've learned that I fall in with that group. It's too much to bear, the concern of not quite meeting a customer's expectations."

"Oh, yeah," says Ras, nodding sagely at Talia as if he approves on whatever basis he thinks he has to judge. "I don't reckon the Faith and Guild oughtta mix. That was somethin Josephine was lookin into, y'know - tryna find out why the crafters hadn't wanted that kinda oversight, in the past." He continues to fidget with the feather, brow knitting as he contemplates that quiet addition at the end. Finally he asks, lowering his voice a little in turn, "Who's Myrinda? Felix ain't Lycene. He's from Maelstrom."

"This is why I try to never set myself up in a position where I have any expectations to meet," says Helena with a grin to Cufre. "Sadly my family has named me one of its ministers, so there's some expectation these days. I'm proud to be useful in that way, but I sort of miss the days of being woefully underestimated." Her eyes sparkle with her jest.

Apollo nods at Ilsa, eyes turning after with curiosity on Helena. "I wrote to you, didn't I. About the guild coming up to Farhaven? Er - sending a representative." He smiles. "How do you find your position as minister? I'm curious about the work involved."

"Are you a crafter?" Talia questions, her dark eyes sliding over Ras finally and flicking away quickly as she tries to figure out based on his muscles (lack thereof) and his fingertips, and whatever else what type of crafter he might be. "I did not really know the last Guildmistress. Not really. She was always nice but--." She frowns, adding: "It was a real loss to the Guild. First Joscelin and then Josephine."

Tiger, the clever mechanical bird arrives, following Prism.

Ras clasps his hands behind his back for some reason, giving a small shake of his head in reply to Talia's question and then just listening.

"Ah my mistake there Messere." Martino's sharp green eyes creased for a moment to Ilsa before turning his gaze back to Cufre to laugh hushed to her, right hand waving it away. "Truly my kindness here should be that of many others. It was a challenge and one set hard, so to demand something quicker than the perfection I know you can make. Would be truly untoward."

On a bench along the wall sits Scout Rowenova whilst Sir Floppington makes the rounds for pets and peeks at the various wares.

"It is an easy mistake to make. There are so many faces here in the city." That, Ilsa offered to Martin, before she stepped back, allowing the conversation to flow around her so that she was not monopolizing anyone's attention, happy to return to perusing the crafts which had been set out around the hall.

"Oh, well. I guess-- you did not vote, then," Talia replies. She seems to be just as good at small talk. She falls awkwardly silent at that, her gaze slipping briefly over to Apollo and his display thoughtfully, given that they were just talking about him.

Apollo is standing near a trio of displays, chatting with people - his own display, a stand with armor meant to be a prize in the raffle, and a display of collaborations - materials invented at least in part by guild members, among other things; he leans a little on his display, glances at his ledger, then turns eyes on Talia's display just in time to see her looking. He flashes her a smile.

Prism, somewhat improbably, is here. At a craft fair. By happenstance, or otherwise. "Do you remember these, back in the day?" she asks ... her bird, maybe. Because Tiger's here too, flitting about all brassy and bright. "Of course, you used to find all sorts of things back then you'd never find now. But..." Her silver-eyed gaze wanders the wares, and she seems all manner of interested in this and that.

Helena raises her brows and turns to Apollo. "Yes! Let me know when you are ready, and we'll make it happen. We are thrilled to have the Lodge's presence up in Farhaven, now, so having the Crafters would be another boon, certainly," she says warmly. "I'll strive to gather the best people for your representative to meet." She looks to the windows, and tips her head. "It may need to wait until after spring thaw, though; the journey there is an arduous one even in good weather, and it'll already be quite cold with winter already making herself quite at home in the mountains," she says with a fond smile for her homeland.

Talia flushes at being caught, smiling back hesitantly at Apollo before she looks quickly away. It's in the looking away that she catches sight, once again, of Prism. She breathes out a low breath, tensing as she looks from her mannequin on which her steelsilk dress is carefully draped back to Prism. She looks ready to hide.

Seeing Prism, Nova stands up with the flow of umbra which she has draped over one shoulder. It flows a bit more as she bows to the new arrival before then popping up to her full height once again.

Apollo's eyes turn on Prism - of course they do, /look/ at her - and then the mechanical bird. And then they can't decide which they're staring at. He stops perhaps a centimeter short of slack-jawed, and when he realizes how close he's come, he snaps his mouth shut, clears his throat, and shifts foot to foot, murmuring something wide-eyed to Helena and Ilsa, just there.

Emele, next to her case of paintings of armour, glances towards the new arrival, then turns her gaze back towards Talia, Ras, and the dress. Talia's reaction to the new arrival gets a puzzled look from Emele, one that slowly turns into a gaping stare at Prism.

Even Sir Floppington takes paws. He bows a bit with his forelimbs stretching before he stands up, too. He wags over to see Prism if she seems amiable to such greetings.

"Mmm Princess Helena, I should return to mine House but we should speak and meet again soon." Martino's head bowed easy to Helena as he inhaled for a moment and tucked his arm beneath his torso to bow low for the crafters. "Mine thanks and appreciation to you all, once more." With that, he turned on his heels and made for the city once more.

Cufre chuckles in response to Helena. "My condolences, your highness." She shakes her head, her flurry of loose curls emphasizing her rejection of Martino's words. "No, no, Lord Malvici. If you hadn't given me the commission, I would not have learned what I did about myself and my work. Mother wants us to make the most of the life we have been given. In learning more about myself, I come closer to figuring out how best I can do that."

Ilsa, who had been looking at some of the tanning work on display, turned as she heard the murmur from Apollo, her eyes darting to where he seemed to be unable to look away, her brows rising as she took in..."Who is that?" because sometimes you are too surprised to actually keep your voice down like someone with sense.

At the sudden wide-eyed staring of Apollo, Helena turns and sees Prism, her eyes widening slightly. She's never seen her but her beauty is one spoken of in poems and depicted -- never well enough -- in paintings. The Redrain takes a shaky breath and steps forward, not wanting to be one to stare at the new guest. "I'm not sure how to greet you," she says softly, midnight blue eyes shining, "but do join us. I'm sure I speak for all of us present when I say we are honored to have you among us." She offers a graceful curtsy -- as a princess, it's rare she does so except for Alaric and Symonesse. Her lashes dip, and she looks up again, her eyes damp with tears that seem to spring from adoration.

Ras is still looking at Talia when he sees her tense. His gaze flicks with a half-turn of one boot towards Prism, and eyebrows furrow in confusion. Then he glances around the hall to notice so many others staring, too. While he may not recognize the noteworthy arrival, it's obvious that she is someone important. Unlike the tailor, who looks about ready to hide - he actually does, quickly skulking around to join the largest crowd of commoners.

Orchid is much quieter now that Vanora has left and she has finished discussing things with Apollo. She's moved away to find her own little spot. The awe for Prism gets a confused look from Orchid then she gives an uncertain shrug and curties to her before going back to just watching. She must be some sort of royal.

"Mmm," Prism murmurs to herself, as she looks over some nonspecific artisan's display. "It makes me miss Fortunato. Don't you th--" But Tiger is already gone, choosing to perch at an armour display and admire the designs there. "And now I'm talking to myself like a madwoman," she observes, nothanksTiger, and continues through the entrance hall, a walking shadow in all that dark silk. "Aren't you lovely?" she says, as she approaches the place where Talia is almost certainly just about to hide. It does seem as though she's referring to Talia rather than to the gown, but, perhaps, a bit of both ...

"Ahh," Prism says, first glancing edgewise to Helena, then turning on heel to face her outright. "No need at all to curtsey for me, though you're kind to do so."

Johannes, A tall and red cloaked gentleman, A slightly embarrassed courier called Guido leave, following Martino.

Talia assumes the gown, for all that she blushes a deep red. "It's name is prismatic freedom," she explains, halting her own curtsy in an awkward bob and straighten. "It's designed for you. And Skald, of course. But-- you."

"I think it's Prism," Apollo says - confirmed, at least for him, when she approaches Talia and the gown she has on display. "The ah - something of - er. The seraph of Skald, if what I've been told is true. Do you see that bird? Princess Lou talked about having a toy bird she followed on a map -" he's not staring. No, wait, he's... totally staring. His voice isn't hushed enough to be a whisper, but quiet enough.

Nova gathers the umbra in her arms a bit better as she speaks up, "Thank you for joining us, Seraph Prism."

After looking up at the mechanical bird, Sir Floppington the soulful hound head tilts.

Observant, Ras is able to quickly discern the seraph's identity from the words spoken throughout the hall. He glances towards Apollo, then watches the exchange with Talia curiously.

12 Grayson House Guards arrives, following Liara.

"Skald doesn't wear dresses," Prism says. "Most times." She reaches out to touch that dress, and it seems brighter, doesn't it? As she touches it, the flakes of iridescite scattered throughout the gown spark to life. "A very, very long time ago, before there was very much else at all in this Dream, Skald looked up at the stars, and he dreamed of me," she says. "Many hold claim to the stars these days, but I was born from them, I think. From my God's lonesome dream."

Emele nods slowly at Apollo's words. "Yes. Prism, Seraph of Skald," she agrees, her voice a low murmur, then remembers that mouths should stay closed in the presence of other people. No more gawping. Just staring, instead.

Ilsa, quite unabashedly was staring, and made no attempt to hide it, even if she did think better of speaking out loud. instead, she spoke quietly, turning her gaze as Prism moved where she would. Emele's clarification brought a slight nod of her head, her brow creasing in thoughtful examination.

Helena smiles at Talia. "It's quite beautiful," she murmurs. "You are very talented." Her eyes return to Prism, and her lips curve into a smile at the woman's next words, chuckling a little, before they grow somber again. "That is beautiful," she says softly. "Do give him my regards from House Redrain. We are quite fond of him, and you of course." She watches the gown seem to brighten and sparkle all the more.

Apollo blinks, watching the dress, the woman, the bird, the dress, Talia's face - chin lifting. "I wonder -" he starts, but he doesn't finish the thought, mouth snapping shut a moment. He ducks his head, then slips back around his display to look at his ledger on the table. But he's still watching, just... less overt about it.

Ilsa mutters, "She is unlike anyone I ... ever seen before. ... impossible thing made manifest."

"I think Skald probably wears whatever he wants, when the urge takes him," murmurs Talia in what might be a joke, but it's so quiet and she's blushing so much. She never quite makes it to meeting Prism's eyes, so instead she watches where she touches the gown. To Helena, she's able to nod and offer a quiet, "Thank you."

Nova smiles brightly about the sparkling auras of prismatic light, literally. "Duchess Khanne Halfshav once told me stories about you and the beauty that you would bring with you. Thank you for doing so. I could use some Light, and that is what you have brought us."

Cufre turns away from the display as the feel of the room shifts. She would have to be truly lost to miss how the attention of so many at the Faire seems to converge. She looks past her shoulder just in time to see the dress...sparkle. She gasps.

"I hope it finds someone to wear it, one day," Prism says, and though she draws her hand back from it, though her fingers brush away from the silk, it still seems -- illuminated. "Perhaps you, my dear, if you ever find a need to be so bold." Folding her arms loose across her chest, shoulders back, chin uplifted, there is something imperious in her stance, something that recalls the posture of Queen more than Seraph. "I bring Light only where people embrace it," she says. "Where people will open their eyes to see it."

Liara emerges into the hall, complete with entourage. It takes all of a couple of seconds for something to catch her eye - a mini-dress, first, then the array of armour elsewhere - and she strolls farther on through, features brightening with a smile as she takes everything in.

Apollo's reverie and murmurs with Ilsa are broken by Liara's attention; he offers her an uncertain smile and a bow. "Your highness," he greets, but his attention is still sidelong on Prism and Talia.

If Emele's eyes were any more open at the sight of the dress after Prism's touch, they'd be falling out.

Talia's cheeks flush darker at the idea of wearing the dress, but she nods rather than arguing with Prism. She curtsies to the Seraph, despite the earlier words, but her gaze lingers for a moment on that dress for a moment.

Helena is overheard praising Talia.

Michael finds his way to butt in and bother Apollo, Apollo specifically. "I didn't know you were going about making women's clothing, Master Oakwood." His eyes peering specifically at the riotous amount of pink in the display case. "Well...Women's clothing like this."

Ilsa, looking between where Apollo was standing and where Prism and Talia were standing by that exquisite dress. She took a breath, and then stepped forward, dipping a curtsey of respect to Prism. "Seraph, may I ask you a question? As a crafter?" Ilsa could do this, she really could.

Liara offers Apollo a flash of a smile, content simply to browse the displays, though when Michael speaks, she breathes a low laugh. "I found it rather eye-catching. Splendid, really."

Prism smiles at Ilsa, and something of the iron goes out of her posture, softens. "Of course," she answers. "I'm not in the practice of telling people what they may or may not do, but I'd be glad for your question."

Apollo blinks at Michael, and says, "I didn't, it's -" he pauses. Michael didn't mean /that/ dress. He meant the one in the case. "Oh, gods. Yes, those. My fall collection. Inspired by Lycene tastes, but - I've had all sorts buy them, really. Oathlander, even." He glances after Ilsa, down at his ledger.

With her cobalt blues constantly watching Prism, the Wolf Scout smiles softly but says nothing for now. Though, when Michael and Apollo speak of all the 'Lycene tastes', Nova side steps ever closer their way. With this umbra.

Apollo's attention is scattershot, but he smiles at Liara and Michael. "You're both very kind," he adds. "That particular set is for sale; I thought about adding it to the auction, but I wanted to keep my contribution to the raffle Oakhide stuff. Speaking of, I'll be drawing for the raffle in..." a glance toward Talia, her dress, Prism, Ilsa - "er, shortly. Probably."

Michael extends a leg out to flex it. Trousers upon him, but he'll between dress and his leg and the dress. "I'm...not quite sure I could pull it off. At least not in that color. Perhaps a yellow of some sort, Master Oakwood?" A teasing smile flitting to the Grayson Princess.

Helena slips away to give Ilsa space to ask her question and moves to greet Michael, one hand on his forearm to give herself leverage to plant a friendly peck on his cheek. "Lord Michael. Princess Liara. How lovely to see you both." She still looks a little wide-eyed from speaking with Prism, but is trying to regain her composure. She glances at the gown in discussion and smiles. "I wish I were so daring. But also no one wants to see my porcelain-hued legs."

Ilsa offered that warm, genuine smile, though, perhaps something in prism tempered the brightness. Respect, perhaps, or trepidation. "How does one find the pinnacle of their craft? Is it in finding new and exquisite ways to make use of such materials as are already available in the world, to show what can be done with the gifts we have given? Such as with this dress of such beauty? To delight and inspire? Or, should we seek, always to find the new and undiscovered materials and in so doing open a window into what is possible and in so doing embrace our potential?" She dipped her head, "I am an apothecary, for example, by trade. Am I better served in seeking to find new ways to use those herbs and components I already know, and in so doing help now, or delay for a while to discover that whish is new?"

Apollo glances down, then back up, smiles at Michael. "I did make it in a lovely gold, Lord Michael. I would be most happy to have your measure so one can be made for you." He smiles, briefly, at Rowenova, listening a moment to Ilsa and her question. To Helena, he offers: "I've found more subdued hues look lovely even on the fairest complexion, your highness, which you certainly have. But if something so short doesn't suit, do come 'round and we'll sort you out."

As Ilsa approaches Prism, Talia steps back slightly to give her space to ask her question in peace. She doesn't step entirely away, given that mention of crafters. Her dark gaze slides over to meet Apollo's across the hall for a moment as she feels him looking over. There's a little glance between him and Prism, but then her attention settles back on Prism.

Liara offers a little nod to Apollo. "Is it indeed? I would be interested, although I have a meeting to attend soon and there is much more to look at here as well." Her gaze does rather wander, beyond just the mini-dress, to take in the other things about.

"What's wrong with white legs?" Prism asks. Her skin, after all, is very white. Star-white, if the right light strikes her. (Or the right mood.) "Don't you think that depends on the person?" she asks Ilsa, with rather more curiosity, and with eyes bright and wide with wonder. "What inspires /you/? Is it the pursuit of the unknown, or the keeping of the known? Are you a caretaker? Adventurer? Dreamer? Every person holds a different answer in their hearts."

"Which are you?" Talia questions quietly, the words coming out before she really has time to think over posing such a question to Prism.

"Princess Helena." Michael /knows/ Helena. "My favorite Redrain sixth...? cousin. The least destructive, surely." The man's arm stays level for the leverage of Helena's hand. "Clearly nothing wrong with white legs, perhaps her highness worries about being compared to Snow?" He'll lean forward though, as if his eyesight might be going to peer closer to the dress. "A gold would be far better for me. Perhaps a purple or some such for Helena? Actually. I'll pay for the purple for her."

The discussion between Apollo and Michael catch Orchid's attention and to one side Orchid's head tilts as she stares at Michael for long moment, a thoughtful frown touches her face as se does so. Though not loud the comment of, "It would be interesting to see him in a dress." She likely thinks she is speaking quiet enough not to be heard as she doesn't get instantly embrassed for expressing her thoughts.

Nova wolfishly grins about the whole idea behind Micheal's measurements there. "Would that pattern be okay to borrow for my umbra here?" She shows the bolts of the incredibly-black fabric to Apollo.

"I've been many things," Prism says. "Over many lives. When Skald found me last -- when he held me in his arms, and I began to remember -- I told him I wished to be a flame. To burn brightly." She smiles, in reminiscence. "So, perhaps I am a little of that. But I think I have mostly been a caretaker."

Nova curiously inquires, "Seraph Prism, do you know the name Elira who was the sister to Queen Valeria?"

"Thank you, I-" Helena's words to Apollo are cut short from the comment from Prism, and the Redrain actually giggles, before putting her hand to her mouth. "Nothing, truly, though sometimes I compare myself to the Lycenes who wear such things," she says softly to those questioning her comment. Her gaze is soft at the questions that are asked of Ilsa, and she sighs again, quite pleased with this moment in time. Michael's words draw her attention back. "Oh, no, you do not need to do that. Purple leather is truly a Lycene feel, no? Not that there's anything wrong with Lycenes. I've been quite fond of a few," she says with a chuckle.

Oh gods save her. Ilsa could not help it. She wholly and completely failed to stop the giggle that escaped her throat at Prism's question of the colour of ones legs. It took her a supreme surge of will to choke it back down. The Seraph's words and perhaps the fact that Prism was actually looking at her, helped in that, "I dream, Seraph. I take the things that I know, and I dream of the things that might be possible. I seek to heal more than the momentary hurt, and would go where the path leads me to find the things that I need. But there is good and hope in being a caretaker, for they guard others always. Even when their path takes them into places they have never been before."

Lille, the dauntless companion arrives, delivering a message to Helena before departing.

Ras is still watching ongoings around the seraph, listening to conversations while staying out of the way. There's a flicker of some kind of thought in his eyes, and he folds his arms while leaning back against a wall. One hand comes up from the crook of the opposite elbow to fidget with the feather in his hair.

Talia considers Prism's answer and Ilsa's with equal thoughtfulness, her gaze slipping between the two of them and nodding softly. If she has an answer of her own, it isn't given. She does murmur a quiet, "Please excuse me." With a careful look to the gown once again, she moves away from it reluctantly to cross the hall towards Apollo's display.

Apollo nods at Michael's request, but when Helena declines it turns into a shake. "Well, perhaps something more subdued one day, Princess Helena," he says, and there he smiles. He glances at Rowenova, and then he shakes his head. "I'm afraid I don't provide leather designs for tailoring," he says. "The materials don't work the same, and it just leads to disappointment in the overall fit and effect." Apollo briefly glances at Orchid, then at Michael, estimating - before turning eyes on Talia's approach.

Emele eventually remembers that staring isn't polite either. She wrenches her gaze away from Prism, finding something fascinating to look at on her own shawl. The spots of paint, perhaps, that need removing with the aid of a jagged thumbnail.

"It's good to dream!" Prism says. She claps her hands together, and the sound of it rings with more than the clap of her palms -- rings with alaricite, with a sound like crystal. "Dreaming -- and working towards those dreams, fighting for them -- will change the face of this world. Will liberate it!"

"Gold and purple. I'm sure Princess Helena will lose a bet sometime soon and have to accept it. And I have an uncle to bother excessively so with the gold dress." Michael reaches out to thump Apollo's elbow altogether too familiarily. "I lied. I've got the thighs for the dress." But oh no, Liara and her meeting. "We have the same meeting, your highness. I'd offer to escort you, but then you'd have thirteen guards. We'd never fit down hallways."

Ilsa smiled then, as she heard the ringing, as if the very sound of it was a delight. And she stepped back, offering, again, the curtsey of respect. "Thank you, Seraph." She would not stand in the way of anyone else who might wish to engage with Prism.

Prism adds, in answer to Nova, "Much of the history of the chaining of Legion happened while I was dead, for I died when the fight began. I know very little of the early days -- of women like Valeria, and Elira."

"Master Oakwood," Talia greets, her voice soft. She smiles apologetically to the nobility talking with the leatherworker, staying to the side rather than pushing into the conversational sphere. She adds, "I just wanted to-- introduce myself and see-- if you needed anything? For the faire. I didn't mean to--." Her words trail off; what she didn't mean to do will be forever lost.

Prism's words draw Helena's attention again. "Seraph Prism, I'm collecting poetry for a volume on the importance and liberty, as well as hosting a reading, soon. The book proceeds will go to the Liberators. I would be beyond thrilled if you wanted to send me a snippet to include in the volume. You are clearly a poet at heart, with the words you speak, and the way you see light and beauty in the world." She smiles. "If you'd like to, do send me a message and I'll be sure to send you one of the books when they are printed."

Attention drawn back from her continued perusal of the sundry things on display, Liara offers Michael an amused flash of a smile. "No, indeed. How the King manages it is an unsolved mystery. I shall see you there presently, my lord."

Something about Ras' gaze intensifies on Prism at that clap and declaration of liberation, and then he listens to Michael's words - there's a slow panning of his stare to Apollo's display. He bites his lip.

Seeing Apollo's look Orchid gives a small 'Ack' as she realizes he probably overheard her. Awaaay from him she looks, instead pickign a random display to focus on.

Prism flushes, her cheeks coloring blushed rose. "OhnoI'mreallynot," she says, all in a breath. "It's been a very long time since I had to write any sort of -- poetry. But Fortunato is very poetic, and very ... choice-y. Have you gotten a quote from him yet? He's a wondrous hero and should be in every book."

3 Grimhall House Guards arrives, following Ingvar.

Nova briefly bobs her wolf-framed face after Apollo's reply, doing so whilst curiously watching Prism. "Thank you for letting me know. I am sorry that you have had to die so much, but I am glad that you are around, as a free soul, and not chained down! Since you say you went early, does the last name Morien mean anything to you? I know a man who is looking for his family history... Ah, yes, Fortunato. He calls himself Dusk these days. We all love him! Speaking of Poetry: have you heard of the poetry of Lord Rysen Crovane?"

When Prism blushes, Helena's brows shoot up and she looks apologetic. "I did send him an invitation, but have yet to hear back from him. He is very poetic, indeed. And heroic." She dips her head. "If you wish to write something, I am sure it would be lovely. But it a choice, and I feel as Skald does on that matter -- the choice is of course yours and I will value your choice whatever that is. I can send you a volume of the poetry anyway, if my messenger can find you. Don't feel obligated, by any means."

Cufre returns to browsing the displays, though the displays she happens to favor seem to be those nearest Prism. She smiles a bit, at the work, at the overheard conversations, who can say? The sound of the seraph's clap snaps Cufre out of her lingering, and she makes her way toward the gates.

After another few moments of looking about, Liara takes her leave as quietly as can reasonably be managed (not very - too many guards) and slips back out the palace doors.

Apollo nods absently at Michael, and adds: "Come 'round, will you? I feel like I'm likely to forget, and I don't want to." His ledger. It's right there. He's... probably also forgotten that. When Talia comes around, his brows lift, and actually /he/ looks apologetic. "Oh no, no no. Gods, no, I'm actually - I'm sorry. I ah - I should... do the drawing. Before my head completely goes to mush." He actually looks grateful to her, for getting him turned back to what he's supposed to do. And he starts drawing numbers, making marks. Some numbers are duplicates, and he sorts those out, draws more. When he's done, he looks up at who's still around. "Ah - there are a few winners here - Rowenova, you've won the rugs, and Ras, you've won my voucher. Lord Michael, you've got a duplicate draw, I'm going to have to be in touch with another winner and then I'll tell you what you've won."

After being given the voucher for the rugs, Nova hops up and down with that ticket as well as the umbra she has been holding onto, too!

Ras is in the process of unfolding his arms and pushing off the wall to depart, but there's a pause as he overhears Fortunato's name, and then a second pause as Apollo says his own name. He glances towards the tanner, eyes widening in surprise and then narrowing slightly with suspicion.

"You can't live without dying a few times," Prism says. "And I have been blessed, more than anything, with /life/. There are things I could never have done -- never have known -- If I hadn't come down to this world. If I hadn't died, that first time, all those years ago. I am grateful for my deaths, as I am for my lives."

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry," Talia apologizes as she nods and steps away to let him sort out the raffle. As he does, she kind of scoots back towards her display carefully along the edges of the crowds.

Ilsa, having been content to simply watch and listen, now, looked away as the drawing of the raffle began. She smiled, though did not look terribly disappointed as she was not named among the winners. She had not even taken her portion of the tickets of out her pocket.

"Thats my meeting, seventeenth cousin of mine." The Bisland Lord nearly talks out the side of his mouth to Helena. "I'll go bother Florence." Thats to Apollo. Michael....knows thats not the right name. "Err...Venico. No. Gah...Um...Liri? Piri? Oiri? Uhhh..." His hand lifts to boop his own nose as he think-think-thinks. "Siri? Siri. Talk lattteerrr." Michael is turning to leave, but Ras. Ohhhhh, Ras. Michael stutter-steps as he notices the man. Eyebrows narrowing, furrowing, cinching together before he winks at the young man. "I'll see you later as well."

Ras checked composure at difficulty 10, rolling 2 higher.

Ras sets his jaw to keep his mouth shut, and tilts his head slightly at Michael as one corner of his mouth twitches in a forced attempt at a smile. Luckily, the Bisland lord is already past and doesn't have to witness that terrible impression.

Nova calms down and happily hugs her the rugs voucher and the umbra pile. After quietly thanking Apollo, she looks back to Prism with curious eyes. "Cycling through many lives and being able to remember them like that is an impressive blessing! May I encourage a friend to write to you about Morien?"

Apollo finishes the raffle up, notes down the absent winners, and then - with a glance at his guard to mind his display, he steps after Talia. "Talia -" he calls after her, and moves to speak with her softly.

Everyone in general is given a curtsy by Orchid and she moves to head on out of the palace. She's probably done with being around so many people.

The message that Helena had received in the flurry of excitement is finally read, and her forehead crinkles. Whatever it's about, it's not particularly pleasant. "I should go. Thank you so much for this wonderful display of our city's artisans," she tells Apollo as he heads off to Talia, then slips out the door herself.

Talia does stop, flushing immediately at whatever Apollo says. It's probably scandalous! She murmurs her own answer, lingering near the other crafter and ducking her head.

"I don't know a whole lot about them," Prism says, a note of apology resonant in her voice. She lifts one hand, fingers bent at the knuckles, and Tiger must take that as his cue to go, because he leaves whatever stall he'd been perched a to come perch upon her hand instead. "You are all wonderful," Prism declares, and oh, she does seem to mean it. "Titles are silly little things, and you should all remember that you carry sparks within your hearts as bright as any lord or lady."

After accepting the voucher, Ras moves to depart after Orchid.

Helena is overheard praising Apollo.

Ras pauses on his way out, a shift of his focus towards Prism, and when he leaves there's a small smile on his face that isn't forced at all.

Apollo gives Talia a fond, wistful smile, and reaches to give her shoulder a brief squeeze before murmuring something in return.

Nova smiles brightly, "Thank you." After having watched Prism walk away with that mechanical bird on her fingers, Nova turns back with a bright smile to everyone here. "That was amazing!"

3 Grimhall House Guards leaves, following Ingvar.

Ilsa, smiled, then, as she heard Prism's words, as she watched the Seraph make her way out of the hall. And once she had disappeared from Ilsa's sight, the small woman simply exhaled a sigh of what could only be relief.

Ilsa is overheard praising Apollo: For overseeing a display of wonders and exquisite craftsmanship such as I have never seen before.

Talia nods, smiling softly to Apollo. But her next words are a quiet, "I should go-- get the dress safely back to the shop. Thank you." She gestures to her mannequin, before stepping away to carefully put the illuminated gown in a garment bag for transport.

Apollo takes A display case with a leather sign.

Talia gets mannequins covered in dark navy velvet.

Apollo takes CRAFTERS' COLLABORATIONS DISPLAY CASE.

Apollo takes a solid oak stand for displaying arms and armour.

Emele gets A display of paintings of armour.

Emele relaxes as people start to leave, looking up from her shawl to start packing down.

Apollo putters around for quite some time after folks start to filter out, then goes about packing up and surveying the area so that nothing is left behind.