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Lady Reyne Mordha (heldbytheblade) wrote in watchers_rp,

Reyne’s features fell into an expression that roughly read guilty as charged when she was correctly identified, and she allowed it to show despite any illusions involving an alleged tint to her cheeks. “Reyne, please. ‘Lady’ sounds self-congratulatory when you’re surrounded by the nobility.” Sometimes a genuine reaction really was worth far more than magic. She did, however, refrain from putting two finger down her throat and gagging at the mention of the Creator. Instead, her head tilted and she asked the first thing that sprang to mind: “That’s well-polished glass if you can truly see yourself in it. I think the windowpanes in my rooms came through an Empyrean sandstorm.” The blonde gave the window a critical eye before the subject apparently slipped her mind -- which it did -- as her cheeks returned to their original colour. Reyne tried not to dwell on the fact she was making small talk, of a kind, with nobility. It was strange. “I am sure they will be well and likely far better entertained than those who opted to stay behind,” she added with a vague smile. “Hunts of such a size tend to invite the least trouble, in my experience.” Unless someone found something large and foolishly decided to jump their horse, leading a brigand of idiots who all thought they were veteran riders when the fresh air hit their brains. Then bones would get broken.

“It is the dress.” Reyne flicked a wrist carelessly as she answered the unasked question. “Jubilation aside, the last time I wore one was my wedding and the twin results of that short-lived endeavour are now eleven.” With that, the Bringer had quite shamelessly declared her daughters legitimate. Announcing herself a widow was nothing, for she was. Multiple times over, in fact. But since someone now knew the hazy details of Tanis and Medeia’s legitimacy, it now had to be the truth. Reyne amused herself. She would have to remember to tell the other Bringers. “I am only in one now because my sister made threats regarding appropriate attire.” A shrug, since she clearly didn’t actually give a fig for appropriate attire. Though she had apparently only just noticed her company’s dress. Apparently. “And forgive me, those are the Kolite colours, are they not? I am terribly sorry--” No, she wasn’t, but still. “--I’ve been nailed up in Hel Mordha so long I forget about introductions.” In case the question arose, Reyne immediately began to do the maths. How long should this version of her have been in that castle? Oh, Watchers be damned.