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Help[Games] Re: LaRe's KUY Royal Congrats: Round 8
in reply to a message by La Reina
Monarch: Breccan Nicasio Zevi Willem Augustus (50; deceased)
Consort: Kalila Savita Whimsy [Scipio] Stanton (55)
Husband: Dragomir Caelius Romolo Stanton "Drago" (56)
Nephew: Tybalt Petros Uriah Toril (31)
-Wife: Tryphena Euphrasie [Savion] Toril (26)
Daughter: Guinevere Ygraine Hyacinthe [Toril] Diaman "Gwen" (27)
-Husband: Sebastian Rodrick Owain Leander Didymus Diaman IV of Macaire (27)
-Son: Ignatius Galahad Ianto Dorian Diaman (2)
-Son: Urban Phoebus Gilderoy Florian Diaman (nb)
Monarch: Magnus Marek Idris Toril "Max" (25)
-Wife: Cordelia Margaux Gaëlle [Sandrine] Toril "Gaëlle" (24)
-Daughter: Bellatrix Aïda Giselle Toril "Aïda" (1)
Daughter: Sophronia Anastasia Florence Toril "Sophie" (23) [Lysander's twin]
-Boyfriend: Killian David Iestyn Thackeray (23)
Son: Lysander Patrick Joachim Toril (23) [Sophronia's twin]
-Girlfriend: Artemisia Irina Maialen Aglaia Heledd Wystan "Arty" of Shamir (18)
Of the illustrious Royal House of: Toril
In the Kingdom of: Sidonie
---
"Of course Lysander goes after the most pretentious young woman around."
"Look at Sophie and her sweet boy from out of town."
"Artemisia and Lysander are too perfect for each other."
"I've heard Sophie's boy is the son of a pig farmer."
"Artemisia will be a wonderful addition to the royal family."
"He looks incredibly strong, Sophie's boy."
"Maybe Artemisia will knock some sense into Lysander. He's too solemn and stuck up."
"I've never seen Sophie's boy. Who do you think he could be?"
The whispers floated around about the ballroom. Lysander, upon hearing them, smiled. They knew him all too well. He would only have the best of young women. And Artemisia Irina Maialen Aglaia Heledd Wystan of Shamir was just that. It was a match made in heaven. Except for the fact that he didn't much like her personality. Despite her pretentious position, Artemisia had a tomboy, adventurous streak in her. She preferred to be called "Arty" by everyone--not just her peers. Lysander was only in this for the position being with Artemisia would present him. He had no feelings for the young girl at all.
On the other side of the room, Sophie and her beau, Killian, tried to hide from the rumors. By birth, Killian didn't belong in this place. He was the oldest son of a lowly, widowed, single mother tailor, with ten younger brothers and sisters ranging in age from two to twenty-two. Despite his lowly position, he wasn't in this relationship for the money and protection it would afford his mother. When he first met Sophie, he didn't even know who she was. She was on a visit to his town, dressed in common clothing. She was there for pleasure, not business. They ran into each other along the road. She fell into a muddy puddle and he took her back home with him, knowing that one of his sisters would have something she could change into. It wasn't until later on that she told him that she was one of the princesses of the kingdom. He almost broke it off, but she stopped him, telling him that there was no need. For years, her family had been wedding those below their station. Love was the tradition in their family, not power.
So here he found himself, dressed in borrowed clothing, standing in the corner with Sophie, hiding from the possibly skeptical gazes of disapproving parties. "I'm not sure I should be here, Soph," he murmured, head down.
"Of course, you should, Kil!" she whispered enthusiastically. "It doesn't matter what they think. They mean nothing to me. You mean everything to me."
"If you insist," he sighed.
She took his hand, dragged him to the dance floor, and spun him around. "Of course I do!"
“The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places.
But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now
mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
Consort: Kalila Savita Whimsy [Scipio] Stanton (55)
Husband: Dragomir Caelius Romolo Stanton "Drago" (56)
Nephew: Tybalt Petros Uriah Toril (31)
-Wife: Tryphena Euphrasie [Savion] Toril (26)
Daughter: Guinevere Ygraine Hyacinthe [Toril] Diaman "Gwen" (27)
-Husband: Sebastian Rodrick Owain Leander Didymus Diaman IV of Macaire (27)
-Son: Ignatius Galahad Ianto Dorian Diaman (2)
-Son: Urban Phoebus Gilderoy Florian Diaman (nb)
Monarch: Magnus Marek Idris Toril "Max" (25)
-Wife: Cordelia Margaux Gaëlle [Sandrine] Toril "Gaëlle" (24)
-Daughter: Bellatrix Aïda Giselle Toril "Aïda" (1)
Daughter: Sophronia Anastasia Florence Toril "Sophie" (23) [Lysander's twin]
-Boyfriend: Killian David Iestyn Thackeray (23)
Son: Lysander Patrick Joachim Toril (23) [Sophronia's twin]
-Girlfriend: Artemisia Irina Maialen Aglaia Heledd Wystan "Arty" of Shamir (18)
Of the illustrious Royal House of: Toril
In the Kingdom of: Sidonie
---
"Of course Lysander goes after the most pretentious young woman around."
"Look at Sophie and her sweet boy from out of town."
"Artemisia and Lysander are too perfect for each other."
"I've heard Sophie's boy is the son of a pig farmer."
"Artemisia will be a wonderful addition to the royal family."
"He looks incredibly strong, Sophie's boy."
"Maybe Artemisia will knock some sense into Lysander. He's too solemn and stuck up."
"I've never seen Sophie's boy. Who do you think he could be?"
The whispers floated around about the ballroom. Lysander, upon hearing them, smiled. They knew him all too well. He would only have the best of young women. And Artemisia Irina Maialen Aglaia Heledd Wystan of Shamir was just that. It was a match made in heaven. Except for the fact that he didn't much like her personality. Despite her pretentious position, Artemisia had a tomboy, adventurous streak in her. She preferred to be called "Arty" by everyone--not just her peers. Lysander was only in this for the position being with Artemisia would present him. He had no feelings for the young girl at all.
On the other side of the room, Sophie and her beau, Killian, tried to hide from the rumors. By birth, Killian didn't belong in this place. He was the oldest son of a lowly, widowed, single mother tailor, with ten younger brothers and sisters ranging in age from two to twenty-two. Despite his lowly position, he wasn't in this relationship for the money and protection it would afford his mother. When he first met Sophie, he didn't even know who she was. She was on a visit to his town, dressed in common clothing. She was there for pleasure, not business. They ran into each other along the road. She fell into a muddy puddle and he took her back home with him, knowing that one of his sisters would have something she could change into. It wasn't until later on that she told him that she was one of the princesses of the kingdom. He almost broke it off, but she stopped him, telling him that there was no need. For years, her family had been wedding those below their station. Love was the tradition in their family, not power.
So here he found himself, dressed in borrowed clothing, standing in the corner with Sophie, hiding from the possibly skeptical gazes of disapproving parties. "I'm not sure I should be here, Soph," he murmured, head down.
"Of course, you should, Kil!" she whispered enthusiastically. "It doesn't matter what they think. They mean nothing to me. You mean everything to me."
"If you insist," he sighed.
She took his hand, dragged him to the dance floor, and spun him around. "Of course I do!"
“The world is indeed full of peril and in it there are many dark places.
But still there is much that is fair. And though in all lands, love is now
mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings
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