Who: Elia, OTA When: Jan 2, noonish Where: The Red Keep, courtyard Rating: PG Status: OPEN
Elia yawned and slid down onto a bench, shivering despite the fur cloak and heavy brocade she wore. Dornish blood and northern winters simply did not mix well. It didn't help matters that she had been nothing but exhausted all day, earning herself stern reprimands from an advisor and her dance instructor as well. It wasn't her fault; they'd been a bit later than she'd meant getting back from the encampment on the river. Then there'd been the business of shedding her disguise and making her way back to her rooms...
She yawned again. she would need to go see Toria as soon as the Hand was convinced to let anyone near the tower. She glanced to the top of it, visible over the wall and wondered which room was her friend's. Poor Toria, slipping like that... or perhaps not slipping. It was so unlike Toria to go falling down a flight of stairs. And if she'd been drunk, surely she'd have been with companions, including Elia herself... There seemed to be any number of accidents befalling ladies of noble birth lately. It made one wonder about genaeology...