Sergio Delinaal's Festivals of the Four Winds

"Hidden history? You have just used two words I like very much!" said Elsey, playfully. "Have you found anything of note, thus far?"

"Interesting. By possible falsehoods, do you mean errors, or intentional tampering?"

"I assume, to elevate the perceived value of the lineage, yes?" asked Elseyris, sipping her drink.

"And you mentioned House Stark too, what of them? They must have a rich history."

"What is it that interests you so much about tracing back these lineages?"

Elseyris' voice grew a little quieter;

"It is certainly interesting in itself, but you seem to have a purpose."

She gave him a gentle but curious smile.

"Oh, absolutely," said Elseyris, nodding in agreement. "I am very fond of secret things myself, perhaps from having grown up with Lord Darklyn for a friend," she laughed a little.

"So..." she began, shifting a little closer to Janos, so that she could speak more quietly, yet still be heard by him; "...is there anything you would be willing to share, one academically interested person to another?"

"I understand, no harm done. I was simply interested, and I suppose I have been hoping to make friends. In truth, I should be used to not being trusted, given my family history, but I am not."

Her expression became a little sad, her gaze lingering somewhere in the distance, on nothing in particular.

"Is there anything I could do to show you that I am trustworthy?"

"I am sorry that you cannot trust anyone, though it is understandable. If anything, I think you are likely more sensible than I in that regard," Elsey smiled sadly.

"I am ever ready to assist you, My Lord Hand. I share your concern for discretion. You are welcome to summon me to your office, if you feel it is secure. Or, if you prefer, there is the Godswood, which is rather peaceful. One other thought, is that, as a trusted servant of the crown, and a relative of the royal family, you are likely to be deemed an appropriate escort for me outside of the Keep, if it could be justified."

She gave Janos a respectful nod, looking into his eyes sincerely;

"Whatever My Lord Hand deems fit. I am eager to serve the Realm. I am squandered in the life of a Lady."

She gave a friendly smile at that, trying to help him feel at ease.

She nodded slowly and silently in acknowledgement.

While they had been talking, the festivities had grown around them, the remit to drink copiously being taken up by most. Elsey glanced around the room, enjoying, for a moment, the hubbub of the party.

"I'm sure it will become yet livelier, they are only half drunk now," Elsey smiled in amusement.

"I think I like this better. It is more... honest," mused Elseyris, finishing her wine, and refilling her cup with pear brandy, deciding she wanted something stronger.

"Our kind of parties tend to be full of people pretending to be more respectable than they are."

"Very well, My Lord, though I fear I am somewhat behind the others on the mission to make my eyeballs float," Elseyris chuckled, taking the glass. "And what about you? Is the revelry to your satisfaction?"

"That is a shame, but I suppose that means more of this very nice wine for us," Elsey smiled wryly, downing her glass with gusto. "I have a mind to live a little, for a change, since I have been languishing like a ghost of late. I expect you will be stiff competition with regards to drinking though."

She nudged him playfully, refilling her glass.

The new person entering the room caught Elseyris' eye, as he was clearly of Targaryen blood, but completely unknown to her. She walked up to him and bowed;

"Greetings, and welcome!"

Bertram was not certain of the young woman's age, for she had a young, innocent face, most likely mid-teens, but her gait as she moved towards him was not as buoyant as one would expect of a teenage girl. She had a somewhat soldierly bearing, her gait was deliberate, not dainty. Her honey-coloured hair was coiled into a long, thick braid, woven with dark green ribbons, to match her dress, which was high-necked and long-sleeved, unlike the outfits of the other female guests, which showed more flesh. When she was near to him, looking into his face, he could see that, though she smiled broadly, her huge, chestnut brown eyes were too sad for someone so young.