SIORDANTI HOME, outside of VIENDA | EVENING
"You promise me this Mister Ainu is not arriving as a suitor, Iralia, that our daughter is bringing him into our home for."
"Hadrian, darling, surely you would know. You do remember the young man, don't you?"
"Do you know how many eager youths I meet in a season? Norellie will certainly eventually attract such attention."
"Now, that's enough. Too many." She teased, reaching slim fingers to arrange the man's cravat into a much more pleasing arrangement, "All wanting you to pass on your experience and wisdom. Surely, you have some to spare?"
"Naturally." The Incumbent frowned at his wife but there was humor in the edge of his deep baritone, at the way the lithe Bastian smiled at him before she disappeared toward the dining room to check on how everything was being arranged for the small but intimate dinner she was obviously more excited about than her husband. She missed having her family in the house, it was true, for as their children grew, they became less and less interested in returning to their home over their various breaks from Brunnhold (and, well, at least one of them hadn't been welcome at home for years, though whether or not Iralia entirely agreed with such a decision had never been heard out loud).
It was easy enough to arrive at the sprawling, old-style estate house, stretched wide and two stories tall. Servants would be waiting for their guests to usher them in from the winter cold and take their coats, and while the Siordantis had invited a few of their close friends for a little winter gathering, it was obvious Hadrian was more anxious about his own family than his other guests.
Not an imposing man so much as a broad-shouldered one, Hadrian's dark tailored suit was a bold statement, contrasting rich jewel tones with his pale, freckled skin and sharp, light eyes. He settled comfortably into his study, close as it was to the foyer and convenient to greeting his guests. Glancing back down at his notes, spread as they were on his desk, the Incumbent reminded himself of his guests—Magister Castor Devlin and his lovely wife, Elena; his daughter, of course; this young Palis; and their neighbors, Durham and Thalia Greensbough. A pleasant enough winter meal, to be sure.
Hopefully not too lively, but, then again, Hadrian never knew what to expect from the Magister, especially.