Morrigan attended with her brother, staying both by his side and pleasant through both the viewing, processional, and funeral, departing only long enough to light a candle for the departed king at end of the service. She was content enough to let Marcus be a buffer for the majority of the day, opting to keep her own counsel and thoughts as she observed those around her. There was plenty of royal envoys in attendance. Some she had met previously upon their visits to the Irish court and some she had not. Morrigan was quite eager to form her impressions before any formal introductions were made.
Morrigan attended the meal, chatting amiably with those seated around her, keeping the conversation light as could be with the funeral still hanging over their heads. She kept a careful eye out for the Portuguese prince. Technically she was betrothed to the scoundrel, had been for almost two years now, but that had been after his last promised bride had ultimately found herself called to the higher duty of a convent. Under suspicious circumstances, Morrigan thought after spending nearly a year digging for any scrap of gossip from the Portuguese court, and her dislike for the man had only increased after they had met for the second time at a charity event. He had paraded his mistress underneath her nose, as if Morrigan weren't clever enough to catch onto his little game. Up until that time she had abstained out of propriety, but as it appeared he was not going to extend her the same courtesy she returned to her old habits and started to plot ways to end the arrangement.
She was nobody's fool.
Despite the thoughts running through her brain, Morrigan remained poised and smiling, waiting for any introductions that may be of use at a later date.