Originally Posted by
Oznerol
The steward, in the meanwhile, was trying to figure how the king had gotten so loquacious in such a brief time. He guessed talking to tombs was an awfully boring passtime. They... rarely answer back. Good for thinking. Unless your thoughts were morbose. Ecthelion was wrapped in his long black cloak, trying to make some sense of the situation, while managing to avoid rolling his eyes from time to time. He had a minor throne next to the royal one, so he took a seat and commanded his servants -everyone attending the lords in the feast wore the white liveries of the stewards-, to commence the festivity and bring the first meals, including a huge pie in the shape of the realm, with the additions of the South Victor filled with pidgeon and pheasant whereas the other parts were beef and fine venison. Everyone started to move at the steward's subtle indications and orders, for they had learned to look for the actual lord's commands, while he leaned back on the throne with a cup of warm wine and eyed everyone atentively.