(123-05-31) Sedan Chairs and Auditions
Sedan Chairs and Auditions
Summary: Lady Miranda gets a new sedan chair and Lord Loryn new players for the theatre
Date: 31/05/2016
Related: None

The wedding preparations have geared up a notch as the first crafters begin to arrive to prepare and plan decorations, take measures for clothes and finery and so on. Josanne Tyrell seems to relish the chance to organize a big wedding for her son though and seems to be in three places at the same time. This morning a servant will pass on a message to Lady Miranda, informing her that Lady Josanne and Lord Loryn are requesting the pleasure of her company in the courtyard.

Miranda quickly makes her way to the courtyard to join them, her long hair braided in loops that dangle instead of the tightweave she usually wears. Her gown of soft pink is covered in ivy-climbing roses befitting a future Tyrell but she looks anxious to be in front of her goodmother once again. She even curtsies as she steps out into the courtyard.

The fact that Loryn is standing half behind his mother and looking like he'd rather be elsewhere, may give Miranda a clue. Lady Josanne is standing beside an imposing contraption, decked out in greenish cloth interwoven with golden thread shaped like leaves. A long pole on either side of the contraption, sticking out by several inches, and a door with a window make clear what this is. A sedan chair. A fine one.
Upon Miranda's arrival, Josanne elbows Loryn while smiling at the girl. "Dearest Miranda, Loryn has a gift for you."

"My lady," she says as she makes another nervous curtsy. "I pray the Seven see you well?" She offers a shy smile before looking to Loryn and the elaborate traveling chair. "What's this," she asks with a curious smile. "A travelling sedan?"

Loryn smiles awkwardly and nods. "It's a … sedan chair, yes. For you.", he explains, "I think - well, Mother thinks - it is unbecoming for a lady of your future status to walk everywhere in the city on foot. A lady of House Tyrell is expected to travel in a sedan chair, carried by four bearers who will also be able to act as bodyguards in case of trouble. I can see the sense in that.", he adds quickly, with a sideglance towards his mother. Josanne just stands there, looking proud of herself.

Miranda's a bit put off but tries to hide it. She's not very good at subterfuge. "I… am sure that your family will feel much better knowing I'm, ah, well guarded for. The smallfolk are a bit… anxious when there's guards nearby. Too many nobles or entourages make them a touch nervous or resentful. I've never had problems travelling the city before." But she does conceded, "But a septa is less likely to be a, um, target than a lady of a noble house. So I will, um… thank you. It's very generous." She manages a smile although she's not entirely cheered by the prospect.

If Josanne is disappointed by the less than enthusiastic response, she is very good at hiding it behind a broad smile. "Very well then, how lovely! Just ask a servant that the chair be readied for you when you wish to go into town and it will happen swiftly." She begins heading towards the entrance, but stops to look at Miranda again: "Oh, and there'll be another retainer to assist you at least until the wedding. Afterwards you can decide whether you'll keep her. I've arranged for you to see her later today." She smiles at them both and sweeps off into the manse, leaving Loryn behind to pull a face and mouthe "sorry".

Miranda makes another curtsy and works on keeping up a broad smile. Another thing she'll have to become used to. "It's not your fault," she says quietly as she takes his hands into hers. "I can understand your mother's concern. I'm not just a lowly septa in training anymore. I'm marrying into a Great House and that means there are expectations and protections needed. Imagine if someone decided I would be a good target to harm. Or if the smallfolk decided they didn't like the taxes your family collected…"

"Yes… she does have a good point and your security is of paramount concern to me and all of us.", Loryn admits and smiles a little sheepishly, "I knew you wouldn't be too pleased about something this ostentatious, but once Mother has returned to Highgarden after the wedding I'm sure we can find compromises… you are also right that the smallfolk would not be pleased with this and you like to visit with them." He leans forward to whisper: "There'll also be opportunities to leave the chair at the Whimsy when you're out in town."

Miranda seems torn. "I would want to obey your mother's… request. Concern. It's a daughter's duty to obey her mother and her goodmother once she marries. Especially when ones goodmother is of a great house. But as you are my husband, or will be, you can overrule that." She continues the conspiratorial whisper. "But I will try to be more careful and dress… simply when I go about my help with the poor. Or at least take one person with me to 'help' carry baskets and things. So you won't be worried either."

"When one's goodmother is a tad bossy, one is perfectly within one's right to bend rules.", Loryn points out with a wink but gets serious soon enough. "We will have to find compromises between your freedom of movement, especially in the poorer sections of the city and your protection. I would never forgive myself if something would happen to you. You should also consider that new retainer my mother has picked out. Safety and protection, too. Although I'm sure the smallfolk would fight tooth and nail for their beloved ex-septa.", he adds with a smile.

"Some," Miranda admits realistically. "Many of them know I truly care for them, it's not just some noble being kind because it's expected. I know their names, their trades, their children… I care for them as the Mother cares for all her children. If those of us who are so blessed do not, how are we to say we deserve such kindness and bounty from the Gods?" But she sighs as she adds, "Not everyone, though, cares for noble women interfering in their lives. Angry people will find any excuse to hold hate in their hearts, and I would be an easy target. And a new retainer is… well, I will adjust. Losing a degree of my freedom is a small price to pay to be at your side, Loryn."

Loryn looks a little upset. "You should not be losing your freedom, not even in a small degree.", he sighs and eyes the sedan chair for a moment as if considering burning it. Then he shrugs. "Ah well, it should be useful to carry the shopping home in. What plans do you have for the morning?", he asks her curiously.

Miranda kisses his cheek to try to reassure him. "I was silly to travel the city alone without a male protector even when I wore the grey. Not -everyone- respects the Gods as they should. And outside of going to the sept to make offerings I had no plans. I was going to go over the hymnals and pick out a few songs to suggest to your mother for the ceremony but I can do that tonight just as well."

"Why don't you come to the Whimsy with me?", Loryn suggests, "I'm seeing a few new artists today who are hoping for a spot in next months' scheduling. I was hoping to perhaps discover some exotic talent who could also do something at the wedding." He grins. "You could test your new chair to get to the Whimsy."

Miranda says, "Oh that sounds like an exciting event! I would love to see what might be in store." She eyes the chair and sighs, accepting her fate. "And I can find out if I need a pillow or two for it, and just how bumpy the roads are from here to there."

"Wonderful", Loryn smiles and calls out to a nearby guard to assemble a troop of four in Tyrell livery to carry the chair. "I'll see you in a bit then.", he winks and walks over to the stables to fetch his horse and make his own way to the Whimsy on horseback. Life ain't fair sometimes.

Miranda puts on her best courtiers smile. Some things she will simply have to accept as the wife of a Tyrell- not being able to move freely on her own is one of them.

After a while they would meet again at the Whimsy, the horse now safely stabled in the inn beside the theatre and the impresario himself sitting in the front row of the lowest gallery from where he has a good view on the candidates coming to audition.
One guy has taken over stage manager duties and sending the first act onto the stage, two tumblers in gaudy colourful costumes doing their thing.

Miranda's a bit father behind, as she seems to have requested to stop -every- time she saw someone with a begging bowl and put some silver into it with a kind word and a prayer for their well being. It's clear her travels will take much longer than before but at least she was well protected on the way. The Merryweather girl smiles as she rejoins her betrothed in the gallery and apologizes for it taking so long.

Loryn Tyrell is sitting in the lowest gallery of the Whimsy with a scroll on his lap and his betrothed just sitting down beside him. They are a watching a couple of tumblers doing their thing on stage, the first of several candidates to audition for new slots at the Whimsy and potentially a gig at the big Tyrell-Merryweather wedding. The tumblers aren't bad but not special either. So Loryn turns to Miranda with a "what do you think?" look.

Miranda's hardly the trained theatrical impresario that Loryn is and admired the entire showcase. "I think they were lovely, such pretty colors. And the tall one seemed so good at tossing the little ones up in the air. I did feel bad for the one fellow that fell, he didn't seem too put off by it," she responds politely. "Perhaps keep them in mind for the arrival banquet or the joust feast?" But not the wedding feast; she could see they weren't -that- impressive even without training.

Lord Clovis Tyrell has been scarce during the last few cycles of the moon. There are many who'd have no idea where the Merchant's son has been but his cousin is like enough to have heard of his travels, just as Clovis was informed enough (even abroad) to hear about the impending wedding.
"Congratulations!" Clovis hailed as he entered the establishment with his arms spread wide, his familiar tenor carries with the ease of a natural born orator. His words are merry in tone and tempo, "I haven't missed the Wedding, have I?" The rhetorical question cuts through the air with a burst of laughter to follow. He has a bottle of wine with a large floppy gold bow held by the neck in his left hand.

"We've had better.", Loryn murmurs to Miranda but makes a note on his scroll that could possibly be deciphered as "Maybe?". The tumblers are thanked for coming and waved off. They are followed a small troupe from Volantis, all glad in red silks and leathers, a raven-haired lady juggling burning torches, while her companions do a tricky dance that involves jumping over burning torches or slipping underneath them. All in all it's enough to make Loryn look slightly worried. "They're gonna burn the theatre down.", he murmurs, but then he is distracted by a new arrival and smiles brightly. "Clovis! You're back! What a lovely surprise!", he calls out to the man, "Come join us, watch the auditions with us and tell us where in seven hells you have been?!"

Miranda rises to greet Clovis and makes a polite curtsey for him, a soft gentle smile on her kind-looking face. Loryn's minor swear gets only the tiniest frown from his future wife and former septa-in-training. "It'd be a pleasure for you to join us, and no, not for another month- half month?" She gasps as the fire eater on the stage spews out a burst of flame and murmurs, "Dear Gods, no. I can see the Prince having an attack and climbing under a feasting table when this happens." She doesn't clarify which prince; should be obvious.

Clovis whistles his appreciation for the fire show with a sharp salute. He claps with his free right hand on the forearm of his left as he watched the fire performers. As he got closer to the pair his attention drifts back to them, he hands the wine bottle to Loryn to inspect before it was likely passed off to some servant. "She is lovely, Cousin." Clovis agreed with a hint of mischief on his face, "Nice to meet you…" He offers a kind smile to the Lady. "Lady Merryweather? Was it? Excuse me, I've been hiding out in Essos… Lys the Lovely, that city will take a man." Clovis goes to take a seat nearby with a little shake of his head as he settled in.

Loryn takes the bottle, not sure what he's expected to do with it right now. Praise the vintage? Chug it? He decides to pass it on to Miranda, realizing that she and his cousin haven't actually met yet. "Oh, dear! Clovis, yes, this is Lady Miranda Merryweather, my betrothed. Miranda, this is my cousin Clovis - he stays here from time to time, when he isn't…." Loryn pulls up one eyebrow theatrically, before mimicking Clovis' tone. "Hiding out in Essos why exactly?" Meanwhile the small troupe from Volantis finishes their act and he makes another note on his scroll about them.

Miranda turns to one of her newly assigned attendants lurking at servant's distance and motions to the bottle. "Cups for three, please," she orders easily before turning back to the pair, "Assuming we're to share this now in toast? Or is this an early wedding gift? It's a pleasure, Lord Clovis. And I'm hoping you'll be in town long enough for the wedding itself," she says sincerely.

"My father seems to think I am fit to fight pirates. Where he got that idea…" Clovis is a narrow shouldered foppish young man who waves a dismissive hand at the talk of his father. Yet, that is his answer to why he was hiding out, "And what with all this talk of marriage in the air." His converstaional gaze drifs back to Miranda, "Now would be wonderful, it is just a gift… I bring them back by the shipful when I travel. I've something a bit more elaborate planned for the Wedding. I will be try to stay put long enough to see the ceremony," He sends a cheeky grin to Loryn. "There are some who thought this day would never come to pass. Loryn's Wedding." There is a bemused pride in his tone.

Loryn smirks a bit at the tone. "Well, I prefered to wait for the right woman to come along and my patience was rewarded.", he replies loftily and reaches out to take Miranda's hand for an affectionate squeeze. "I'm glad to hear you'll be staying for the wedding though. Should we be worred about your elaborate plans?", he asks with a grin. The next performers appear, this one a trio from somewhere up north, sweating profusely in fur-lined clothes unsuited to the Reach's sunny climate. All three are playing instruments and start singing a rather uncouth drinking song concerning the theft of luscious salt wives.

Miranda hands the bottle off to be opened and turns back to the pair, meeting Loryn's smile with an affectionate one of her own. She turns to look at the trio and smiles at the curious tune until she realizes what the lyrics are about. Her cheeks, tan as they are, start to turn red. "I, ah, know it's customary for a few ribald songs before the, ah, end of the wedding feast, but that's a bit…. ah… too graphic." She puts her hand over the holy star worn at her neck and shakes her head in slow shock. "And to be fair, Clovis, I, ah, didn't expect to remarry myself. But the Gods reward the faithful with their due rewards and brought him to me. Or me to him. All the same."

Clovis wrinkles his nose at what parades its way on stage next, "You aren't Northern born, are you Lady Miranda?" Clovis has a rhetorical edge to his tone as he continued, "I seem to recall a cornicopia of gold? The Reach? Somewhere in the farmlands. Isn't it?" Heraldy wasn't his most sound skill but his Father is known for trading with the Richer houses of Westeros. At the talk of the gods he rolls his hazel eyes faintly back toward the stage, "The Seven provides." He agreed softly spoken.

Loryn alone doesn't seem to be fazed but then he's heard just about everything during the late-night performances of the Whimsy. He allows the Northerners to continue and they do next launch into a ballad of a heroic faithful direwolf saving his master's life during a snowstorm by covering him with his warm furry body and when the storm abated, the faithful wolf was dead. There's actually a tear glistening in the corner of Loryn's eye and he doesn't pay attentio to Clovis and Miranda anymore.

Miranda beams at Clovis knows her house's sygil. She nods and touches her hand to her braided loops, held in place with a comb featuring the cornucopia in gold. "The far east, closer to Bitterbridge. We're off the Rose Road but the rivers intersect which gives us good farming fields." Prosperous indeed and one of the wealthier families of the Reach. She glances at Loryn as he stares at the stage in rapt awe and slips her hand into his again. "Perhaps if they sing more ballads, like that one," she offers gently to him.

Clovis gives a smile respectful smile as the two love birds get pulled into the performance. He knows how to behave in a theater so he keeps his mouth closed except to sip wine while they watched the show.

Loryn heaves a sigh when the song ends. "If they sing more ballads like this it'll turn the wedding into a weepfest.", he mutters, a bit embarrassed about showing so many Feels. "I'll talk to them about their repertoire and we'll see. The lead singer has a good voice, yes?", he asks Miranda and Clovis as well. The Northernes are waved away and a group from Dorne appears, taking some time with elaborate preparations for a tight-rope act. It gives Loryn time to grin at Clovis: "Maybe you'll be next?!"

Miranda shakes her head in mild amusement. "What is a wedding without someone crying, my love," she asks rhetorically. "And it was rather pretty once they changed the, ah, topic of performance. Besides, we will have guests from all over Westeros so why not celebrate the North?" There's an understanding in her words which has a bit of undertone to it. "Oh do you perform, Lord Clovis? So many talented Tyrells. Another of your cousins is going to do a recitation for us about the Mother's blessings for joy and prosperity." She breaks this to Loryn with a grin, "I was able to convince them it's not theater if it's a dramatic reading of a holy essay."

"He has a voice, it translates emotion well enough but there is some lacking in technique." As the tight rope setup appears on stage both of Clovis' brows leap up his face. He is mid sip when Loryn asks him to perform next, Clovis gulps but nods and his face soon breaks out into a wide confident grin. "Me? If I must…" Clovis agreed, clearly not needing much more insisting than that… he raises his glass to the stage before taking a final sip. "To going next." He toasted loudly and after he sets the wine glass down it is easy to see it was still full. He was performing, AFTERALL, no time to drink. He can't help the soft scoff that ends in choke laugh when Miranda mentions her take on theater. "My brand of performance is not, precisely, recitation. I'm more of a jongler." The Tyrell gives a tiny half shrug, because that isn't something nobleman usually practice for two thirds of their lives. His grin is sheepish but is never fades completely.

"What, what cousin?", Loryn asks, slightly alarmed at the idea of a Tyrell going on about the Mother's blessings. Clovis' response turns that look of alarm into one of confusion. "I… er… I didn't mean, be next to perform.", he points out mildly, "I meant that after me finding a bride after all, you might be the next Tyrell to celebrate a wedding. But of course -", he adds with a sideglance towards the stage, "You are welcome to perform for us as well. I'm sure Miranda would love to see your act?" But for now the Dornish are ready, one lifting the other up to the tightrope with practised ease, where the sparsely-clad girl begins to do some impressive leaps and bounds.

"She's not wearing much, is she," Miranda mutters with a furrowed brow. But the girl is slim to pull off her works so what little there is is still covered. But otherwise it's quite an impression she makes of a favored sort. She breaks from her reverie and blinks at Loryn. "You don't remember the screaming row the other day? I was able to calm your aunt down and reassure her it wasn't anything untoward, how could I allow something like that to befall my future kin, so on so on," she finishes as she motions with her glass of wine.

"I think I'd much rather marry the stage." Clovis agreed with a flippant aside over his shoulder as he started to walk away from them. Clovis begins to walk backwards as he added, "No offense, Lady Miranda, you are lovely. Happy for you two…" Clovis turns on a pivot as he conversationally intoned, "Marriage has never appealed to me." He is already making his way gracefully through the stands. The quick footed Tyrell hops up onto the stage when he reached it with athletic ease. He drifts to stand down stage left where he leans on the wall to watch with his back turned to the happy couple. Clovis watches the Dornish performers with a shrewd study and his hand comes to rest on his chin with a mild nod as they performed.

"I like what she's wearing.", Loryn replies non-committally, watching the lithe Dornish beauty do her stuff. She is soon joined on the tightrope by her male companian and they do a few more tricks. Watching them, Loryn tries to remember. "Screaming row? There have been plenty.", he sighs, "Too many Tyrells in one house never goes well. But I'm glad you've sorted it…" He watches Clovis wander away, if wandering it may be called and gives Miranda a look. "He's my cousin. We have to indulge him." So once the Dornish have ended their act, he gives a nod to Clovis to do his thing next.
<FS3> Clovis rolls Tight Rope Walking: Good Success.
<FS3> Clovis rolls Sleight Of Hand: Failure.
<FS3> Clovis rolls Acrobatics: Success.

Miranda murmurs, "Does his fancies run towards that of your brother's? No wonder your family is so excited to see us marry…" Her blue eyes widen a touch as she shakes her head. All the babies they're expected to produce soon enough… "It would be nice to have your family performing though. And perhaps Laurent will do well in the games."

As the Dornish performers start to depart Clovis reaches out and plucks a glass ball from a basket the male performer was clearing. Their helpers also look set to clear the tight rope. "No, no, leave it now. Please." And though he tried to steal the ball, Clovis is caught and he gives a cheeky grin to the Dornishman. "If I may?" Clovis hefts the glass ball, popping it up to stand on several of his finger tips. "I will return it." Clovis begins to contact juggle the glass sphere to and fro over the back of his hand. The Dornish man nods after a few passes and Clovis is granted the right to borrow the crystal.

In his left hand Clovis continues to allow the sphere to dance from palm to knuckle and back again, around and around as his feet and his right hand helped him up onto the rope. The soft soled sandstone colored boots he wore yeild to the rope when he steps on, his feet seem familiar with the changes in weight and he walks out several steps before stopping. The glass ball has been moving this whole time and now Clovis starts to switch hands. The sphere sails from right to left and back again as he paced to and fro… eventually there is a twirl added into the steps. In that moment the crystal dances over his shoulders- up one arm and back down the other. He catches it and bows.

The Dornish performers mutter a bit, but one of the stage hands whisper an explanation to them about Clovis' identity, so they'll leave him be. "I'm honestly not sure.", Loryn murmurs to Miranda and shrugs. "He's only a minor cousin anyway, so the family isn't too bothered." It's worse when one's the heir to the House after all. "He isn't half-bad, is he?", he leans in to Miranda commenting on Clovis, "Of course we couldn't have him at the wedding, but I could certainly give him a spot at the Whimsy."

Miranda's still quite impressed and claps cheerfully for the performance. "Oh well done…" She murmurs back to Loryn, "What of the family feast, just to entertain the little ones? Not as an official, ah, performer but to give the children a bit of a show so they won't be bored. Speaking of, we need to audition a puppeteer troupe or Prince Dhraegon will pout dreadfully."

Clovis probably can't hear everything that was said from the stage but he catches some of it, "I don't mind performing for the children." He called with a merry smile in his tone as he climbed down from the rope. In a gesture that is less than respectful he holds up the crystal ball to warn its own a split second before he threw it underhand to the Dornish man. Clovis continues to make his way off stage, he is only very slightly out of breath but he soon makes his way back to his wine glass. He quenches his thirst with it before he spoke again, "I wouldn't want to embarass the groom though." Teasing.

Once Clovis has departed, the Dornish begin to remove their tightrope and make way for the next act, a group of actors from Braavos, glad in strange silver costumes that are apparently meant to be armour. They even have crudely drawn sigils albeit of non-existent houses and start performing a silly comedy song number about the perils of being dashing knights in shining armour. It's actually quite funny though Loryn looks dubious. "There'll be Lords and Ladies from all over the Reach and beyond and the wedding. Uncle Lorant would not want to see a Tyrell appear as a performer and give rise to gossip. But yes, you are welcome to make an appearance at the earlier family feast to entertain the children and Miranda's orphans.", he offers with a smile, "I'm sure they will all love you. And oh yes, the puppeteers. I don't think we'll have any on today's list…", he sighs and skims his scroll.

Miranda shakes her head at Clovis' comment, smiling gently to him. "You wouldn't embarass us, but, as he says… we'll have to be certain to reserve the wheres and whens of everything. So much planning and such care; you'd think -we- were waking on that tight rope simply with planning our wedding. And we're not even doing most of it; his mother and my father are reveling in this." She peers over at the list and glances through, "We can put a call out for them, I'm sure half a dozen 'new' acts will appear overnight for Highgarden gold."

"Of course, cousin." Clovis quips calmly and his own gaze is a bit distracted by the play going on that mocks the lords and ladies. He has a silent bought of laughter just behind his grin. "Whatever I can do to help…" Idly in an aside to Miranda as he watched the stage. "Has the gown been made yet? I was the one who sold Lady Marsei the silk for her Wedding Gown. It was rather lovely." He sips his wine and all their wedding worries just bounce right off of him.

Loryn frowns a little as the actors' song gets more ribald. "We have to tread a fine line between entertaining the peasants and making sure the nobles are not offended.", he murmurs and crosses the group off his scroll. "One more, then we'll take a break.", he informs his companions and gestures for the next troupe to be send onto the stage. These ones three dainty young dancers from Lys, their semi-transparent robes not doing much to hide anything. They dance and twirl and Loryn's eyes widen slightly. "Whoa", he whistles softly.

Clovis leans forward as the dancers from Lys appear. He rests his elbows on the row in front of them, "See why I was stuck in Lys?" He muttered with a smirk and the words are directed from the side of his mouth pointedly at his cousin.

Miranda brushes her hand over the pink silk she now wears and shakes her head. "It's still being worked out. I've been measured but I don't think the gown's been started yet. Lady Marsei did look most magnificent when she married, didn't she? I wish I could have attended that," she says with a regretful sigh. "But perhaps we can discuss it, something foreign would be suitable exotic for a bridal gown." She pauses as Loryn knocks them off the list but she adds, "Something to remind people you are an anointed knight would not be bad, though. Just not so — tasteless a showcase." Speaking of tasteless…. at least, in her opinion. Her arms fold over her chest and she frowns in very septa-like disapproval. "Perhaps if they wore something warmer; castles can get so drafty and cold," she says diplomatically.

Loryn casts a little glance at Miranda when he hears Clovis' remark. Shooting down -that- theory of hers. "Yes, coz, I can see why.", he grins at Clovis and makes another note on his scroll. Of course the Lyseni ladies are allowed to finish their number. "I think they're dressed just fine for the warm weather of Oldtown.", he replies to his disapproving bride, then rolls the scroll up. "Alright, we'll take a little break now and see another bunch of candidates.", he explains and reaches for his wine glass.

"They have different ideals in Essos." Clovis commented, adding, "And different fashion." Clovis added in defense of scantily clad dancing babes everywhere. He turns back to face Miranda with a warm grin, "But yes, exotic silks is something my Father specializes in. We have a vessel dedicated to it, The Silkworm brings back yards of exotic fabric regularly. If you want to take a tour of our latest hull… it should be in port later this week." Clovis takes another sip of his wine.

Miranda tips her cup of wine at Loryn - indeed the theory disproved by Clovis' admiration of the dancing girls. But doesn't mean the prim young woman has to enjoy it. "Perhaps after the joust at the tourney feast, then. When there is a… more cheerful attitude," she says reluctantly for the sake of the male Tyrells. "Or perhaps before the, ah, end of the wedding feast when many are in their cups and the mood, um, better inclined." She starts blushing rather than talk about the bedding ceremony to follow the feast. "But, ah, what -else- do we have planned? Any animal acts? I love watching dogs do hoop jumps and backflips.

"Well, I am not just auditioning for the wedding, I'm mostly auditioning for the Whimsy, hoping to find one or two acts we can -also- use at the wedding.", Lory clarifies and grins, "These young ladies on stage are definitely better suited to the late-night shows here at the Whimsy." He turns to Clovis with one arched eyebrow. "Calling a trading vessel The Silkworm is like shouting an invitation to all the pirates in the Narrow Sea", he points out with a slight frown.

"Don't remind me." Yes, that is the same vessel that was stuck in Qohor- because pirates. "Mother named it." Clovis shook his head and reached for the wine bottle so as to refresh his goblet. "Well," At the talk of acts better suited to the Whimsy. "Whatever you decide on for the wedding should be grand, it is free advertising for the Whimsy."

Eleanor appears somewhere near the entrance of the theatre, lingering there for a moment while she smooths her skirts and looks around whatever is there to be seen. Her wide blue eyes give her a slightly childish look, along with the way that she tilts her head back to look up toward the ceiling (or lack thereof), before she heads further inside to where there are apparently dancing girls (and presumably music).

The two Tyrells and the future Tyrell lady sit in the low gallery sipping wine and discussing silk, of all things. Miranda taps her finger against the edge of her cup. "Well, then— the northern trio would likely be good for your late-night showcases too then. Or that silly troupe with the knights. I know some of the smallfolk love to see the nobility mocked, it makes them feel grander," she confides. She glances at the empty stage and inquires, "Any singers or harpists? Not so much for the stage but for the -three- feasts?" She grimaces a little - so much planning.

Loryn looks a little surprised when the Florent lady drifts into the theatre and calls out to her. "Lady Eleanor! Can I do anything for you? We're in the middle of auditioning performers…. or… oh, are you considering to audition?" You never know with nobles. "Bonus points if you can sing or play the harp, apparently.", he grins, after hearing Miranda's remark. "We need to be careful with performers mocking nobles.", he asides to her and Clovis, "Go too far and the smallfolk think they can get away with everything…"

"Perish the thought." Clovis agreed but he wrinkles his nose and excuses him, "I will see you later Coz, Lady Miranda."

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