NEW RULES

OUTFIT | OPEN

Ingrid was still exploring England—getting used to everything. She hadn’t been here for all that long, and she didn’t honestly know how long her father was going to let her stay. They hadn’t talked much about those sorts of details… she hadn’t wanted to. He had wanted to discuss all of it, and she had thought it would be better to table it for later. Ingrid was well aware that it worked in her advantage to wait. If he’d gotten his way, then he’d have a date in mind where she had to come home, and he would make her stick to it. People might say that it was impossible, or at least imprudent, to argue with a king, but she knew how to argue with her father. And she knew that he appreciated a good argument, with valid points. He knew when to concede, to his daughter at least, and she had won that argument. So she was here, she was in England, indefinitely. There was no limit on her time here, no specific date that she was expected to be home by. Of course, she’d go back for the holidays, for a little while. That would be expected of her, and she wanted to be with her family for Christmas Eve. There would also be parties and the like to attend, so she thought she’d probably have to be around for a week or two during the holiday season. But then she’d be right back here, and she was happy about that.

Being here wasn’t exactly what she had expected, but honestly, she hadn’t really known what to expect. Ingrid hadn’t known what it was going to be like, which was part of the reason she’d wanted to come here to begin with. Their former foreign delegate had to leave the position, and because of everything that had been happening in the United Kingdom, her father had wanted to make sure it was filled quickly, but he obviously hadn’t anticipated her recommending herself for the job. It had to be difficult for him, and she knew that. Ingrid didn’t try to push too hard, she hadn’t been insensitive about it. He worried about her. She was his only daughter, and he didn’t want anything to happen to her. But she would be fine. She was hardly in danger in Denmark, with their high approval rating… very few people were disappointed with the royal family and how the magical community of Denmark was faring. Ingrid was well aware that there would always be people against them, against their rule, and everything they did, but there were certainly fewer people thinking about killing her than there were, say, thinking about killing someone in the United Kingdom’s government.

And there certainly weren’t very many people in the United Kingdom that would have a reason to kill Denmark’s princess, even if they did know who she was. Most people didn’t—that was the point. Ever since she had run off to Morocco with Brandt, her guard had risen from three men to six, and so really, there wasn’t much of a chance of anything happening to her here. She would be fine, and she tried to prove that to her father as much as possible. It wasn’t that he was here, but she was well aware that pretty much everything she did was reported back to him. She and Brandt had very respectably gone to the ballet on Saturday. Of course, that had ended up with them sneaking off to a bar, and then back to the ballet, and then to a hotel for the night, which… well, wasn’t exactly what a princess should be doing. But she’d had fun. She wasn’t one for impulsive decisions like that but it was good. She liked Brandt, and she trusted him, and one night in a hotel room wouldn’t get back to the tabloids in Denmark… But today, she wasn’t focusing on that. She was thinking about England, and exploring a little bit. Being a foreign delegate did mean an occasional meeting, but it also meant some free time, and today that meant Toadstool End. Pulling open the door of an interesting looking shop, she stepped inside.

New Rules

outfit 

It was a week after the wedding, or so she thought... She barely remembered it, if she was being honest. She had gone with Raymond as a friend, she had decided that it was almost worth it to show her face, if only just to prove to the purebloods and the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight' that the Ministry was fine with them, that they approved of them and their doings. They couldn't alienate themselves, they couldn't afford it. They needed everyone to know that they were fine, that they were on their side... Even if she could barely tolerate them. But they needed to be there, they needed to show everyone that they were supportive and that they were on their side. She hated sucking up to people. That was, without a doubt, the worst part of politics. Athena hated having to pretend like she enjoyed being in the presence of some of those idiots, she hated how she had to rub elbows and laugh politely. But it was politics, and she did love politics... Hating people just made it difficult. And the bride, of course... Apart from Lady Parkinson she thought that the rest were rather annoying, and she was including Lady Zabini in that. Those little pureblood brats barely knew what they were talking about, it seemed like they were just bred to chatter to one another. It wasn't like dealing with Anicka, not at all. 

She and Raymond had exchanged multiple looks during the ceremony and reception, filled with irritation and irony alike. But Raymond knew the details of what they had to do, and she had almost- almost- been hoping that the Lord Avery would be there... But his son had gone, not him, so it was just her and Raymond standing off to the side and observing everything. She thought that they must have been rather honored; she didn't have to be there. She had better things to do, she had work to do. She had other stuff to be worried about and she had to continue to push foreign affairs with her brother... That was always the most important. They needed everyone on their side and they needed to asses the further issues. She thought it would also be nice to pull a coup on some of their closer neighbors, but with France it would be rather difficult... But she wanted to make sure that the mudbloods couldn't just leave and set up shop somewhere else. That was why they were losing them... And they were missing some important ones, as well. Ones that you could take note were gone... So the happily wedded couple should have been honored she was there, but she doubted that they really even cared.

That, of course, was annoying. But most things were annoying to Athena and she had a busy schedule. Taking time out of it now was hard enough, but she had wanted to get a new book to read when she managed to find the time. Besides, she had heard that there was an interesting little tome that had been scrounged up, and although it wasn't considered to be rare (as there were multiple copies) she had wanted to take a look before offering any money for it. She hadn't looked at any antiques lately, and that was annoying. So she was taking a few hours to herself, she was having a brief break from work, and she was going to go off and get herself a new book. She just hoped that nobody would manage to break anything in the brief time that she was away from the office, but she was hoping that Constance could keep Ares from killing anyone without her being there... Well, there was hoping that he would just maim whoever it was instead, that was better. Athena brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she paced the aisles, peering down at every title with scrutiny. Not that one... The door jingled to announce another patron and she ignored it, continuing to look. Really, she didn't have  much time.

Being able to come here was a feat that she was still surprised she had managed to pull off. She had somehow been able to convince her father to let her live in England—this was the man that had nearly not let her go to Durmstrang. The one that wanted her to be homeschooled instead of off at school, and yet somehow, Ingrid had convinced him to let her come here. He needed a foreign delegate, after all, and who better than his daughter? That had been her logic, anyhow. He had trusted the man that had been in the position formerly, and it would be hard for him to find someone to replace him that he trusted just as much. But why wouldn’t he trust her? She had been learning politics since she could walk, probably before that really, so there was no one better for the job, in her opinion. Ingrid was just more than a little surprised that she had managed to talk him into it. They had gone from him wanting her homeschooled, to him trusting her even further away than she was at Durmstrang. Ingrid didn’t want to disappoint him, but she had to admit, she still felt a little limited, particularly in the fact that her guards had no problem reporting everything back to him. That ended up with her still getting into trouble. Yes, she had run off with Brandt for an afternoon. He was a curse-breaker, and she had convinced him to let her see a site.

Ingrid was well aware that it was a little dangerous, which was part of why she had wanted to go in the first place. She had wanted to do something that she never would have been allowed to do if she’d tried to ask for permission. If she had tried to tell her guards that they were going to Morocco with a curse-breaker, they would have feigned agreement—because they couldn’t technically order their prinsesse around, but then they would have told her father before they even got a chance to leave. Because they answered to him, when it came down to it. So she hadn’t asked permission, and then had gotten into a fair amount of trouble because of it. She didn’t care, though. Ingrid thought that it had been worth it—to go to Morocco with Brandt, to prove that she was more than just some princess who couldn’t get her hands dirty. She’d been in the tomb… had also tripped and fallen and gotten herself covered in dust and dirt, but that had been fine too. A little embarrassing, but it proved the point that she could get dirty and not get bent out of shape about it. She didn’t like all the pastels, and the floral, and the dresses. Not all the time anyhow. She didn’t mind her life, but sometimes she wanted to go on a trip with a curse-breaker, or ditch the theater to drink in a rundown pub with the guy she liked.

Now she had to deal with six members of the guard, instead of three, and that was a little inconvenient. Three guards could blend in, they could act like they weren’t following her but six? Six was a little difficult to deal with. Especially when she was in Toadstool End, and the place wasn’t all that busy to begin with. They didn’t exactly dress to blend in either, which didn’t help. She knew that it would be obvious to anyone that was paying attention that she had six rather ominous looking men following after her. In the Ministry, it was at least slightly easier. There were so many people around, focused on their own work day, that six additional men in the bustling crowd didn’t matter all that much. But here it did, if anyone was looking closely enough. Still, she had wanted to explore, so that was exactly what she was going to do. She headed into the shop, determined to ignore them, and even let the door close behind her in hopes that they would just wait outside. Of course, that wasn’t the case, and as soon as she’d entered the shop, the door opened again, and three of them walked in. Palle, Asger, and Helge. The three that had come after the stunt she had pulled, and ones that answered more to her father than her. “Jeg har det fint herinde.” She told them, her focus on Asger, since everyone knew he was in charge. “Prinsesse, vi følger vores ordrer fra kongen.” After a moment’s pause, she nodded and turned away from them again, deciding to continue just trying to ignore them.

Jeg har det fint herinde: I'm fine in here

Prinsesse, vi følger vores ordrer fra kongen: Princess, we follow our orders from the king