&&. is that ( vanessa kirby )?? no, it’s just ( cecilia carminati ). she is a ( duchess ) of ( lombardy ). she is ( 36 ) years old and her birthday is the ( sixth ) of ( june ) which makes her a ( gemini ). she is ( well-mannered and vivacious ) and ( diligent and confident ) but, unfortunately, also ( apathetic and adherent ). those traits just make her a ( hufflepuff ) and in scientific terms an ( estp ). she is ( heterosexual ) and the program’s ( herald ). her theme song is ( bambola ) by ( bette lemme ). her interests include ( yachting and tennis ). she practices ( catholicism ) and is a supporter of ( verona di savoia ). her quirk is ( toying with any jewelry she is wearing ) and favourite quote is ( hollywood amuses me. holier-than-thou for the public and unholier-than-the-devil in reality. ) by ( grace kelly ) because ( she finds it very applicable to life in the political sphere ). last but not least she ( does not ) believe in true love.
LA STORIA:
Cecilia Carminati was the perfect daughter. No really, she was sweet and playful as a child, dutifully kissing her father’s cheeks when he came home from work, sitting absolutely still when her mother brushed her hair and lamented over it’s mousy brown hue. “But your eyes, they will catch attention, don’t worry,” her mother would murmur, before putting Cecilia to sleep. Attention is important, she learns, and appearance is what fed it. Her family’s power only stands if they hold relevance. She clutches this knowledge close to her heart as she gets older, experimenting with looks and boys until the plain, sweet girl disappears and a sparkling, blonde ‘C.C.’ (as her friends called her) took her place. Her younger brother is the one who laments now, all his friends become useless the moment she walks into the room.
She attends university lazily, connections are vastly more important than any degree but she graduates with one anyway. Political communication is what the faculty supposedly taught her, but there’s nothing she learned in her curriculum that she hadn’t already been taught on her father’s knee, by her mother’s side. See, it was the right sort of attention that was required and to gain it, a thick line had to be drawn between the private and public life, her father once explained, pouring her a glass of wine. Growing up in the fashion capital of the world (New York street wear doesn’t count, she’ll tell you with a wrinkled nose, lazy, thoughtless graffiti didn’t constitute art), only emphasized this more. No wonder she gets on so easily with the youngest Italian princess.
C.C. always lacked direction: her courses were chosen because they were easy and came to her naturally not because she held any ambitions of her own. Could a person empty be anything but a vessel? She imbibes what Verona shows her, becomes exactly what the princess needs to garner the support the royal family wants. But one day, she has an original thought. “I’m auditioning for Rai,” she announces at the intimate dinner with family and friends a few days before the extravagant 25th birthday party she has planned. “I’ll be on the news, telling everyone exactly what is happening in the world.” C.C. catches Verona’s eye and winks.
It’s a strong position, and a useful one, to gain access and control in media, to shape narratives as she (as the princess) saw fit. It fits her like a well-tailored suit, lets her do worse in private because her fist around public perception only grows stronger. She interviews an Italian footballer and he can’t stop licking his lips. She can’t stop watching. They date for two years in a spree of luxurious yachting dates, jumping into the Mediterranean without a shred of clothing. They party in exclusive clubs, sharing VIP booths with other rich, famous, pretty people, uncaring who watches if their hands slip somewhere they shouldn’t because she can make the pictures disappear with a flick of her wrist. At her 30th birthday party, he proposes and she says “Sí, sí, sí!” and some time later Sky Italia offers her her own news show. She dreams of a perfect future: the job, the husband, the inevitable family. Everything is perfect.
Until of course, someone else sends her pictures. They had decided to wait a year, in order to accommodate the expertly designed, destination wedding C.C. envisioned, but the obscene images emailed to her are dated from the beginning of their relationship to what would become its messy, messy end. Never had she felt such anger before, never had she tasted poison in her mouth, filling it like saliva as they fought and hissed and scratched each other. She threatens to release the images, throwing him to the media’s unkind attention, he threatens to release the photos he has of hers, the ones revealing the woman beneath the perfect mask, the one who lived too freely, who indulged in things good girls weren’t supposed to like. Her mother asks if she really cannot push through, things like this happened even after marriage. Her father tells her that if she means to end it, she must do it cleanly. The strategy is to delay the wedding month after month, stretching into another year until they jointly announce that their careers were not compatible with the life they wanted. She never stops resenting the protection he received from her generosity.
Relationships are only for use now, and the most useful will always be the one she has with Verona. C.C. reports on political incidents with a deftness that makes her seem unbiased, even as she presents stories that reflect the Italian crown in glinting, golden, sunlight. The attention has lost some of its luster now, however, and she itches for something new, something novel. It comes in the form of her 35th birthday present, when her father gives her enough shares in Sky Italia for her to take a seat on the board. Later in his office, he informs her of the test results and his title becomes hers while he takes medical leave. She’s never been more powerful. She’s also never been emptier.
C.C. has come to the program to give Verona support since the harrowing incidents….and see if she can’t negotiate for her younger brother to take the place of the military fools who let their princess regent be stolen away.
LE NOTIZIE:
TLDR; CC is just an evil Hufflepuff happy to do whatever Verona needs :)
Char Inspo: Shiv Roy (Succession), Claire Hale (House of Cards), Alex Levy (The Morning Show), Keeley Jones (Ted Lasso), Alanna Mitsopolis/White Widow (Mission Impossible), Belle (Secret Diary of a Call Girl), Daphne Sullivan (The White Lotus), Georgia Miller (Ginny and Georgia), Amy Dunne (Gone Girl)
Pinterest: https://pin.it/12oh9PN
Plots and Connection Ideas: friends/best friends, enemies, friends to enemies, exes/fwb/affairs of dubious intent and nature, all the toxic relationships platonic or romantic, someone she has interviewed in the past for her show, someone she went to university with, someone who's friends with her younger brother (wc to come maybe), retail therapy friends, yachting friends, tennis friends, *insert rich people hobby here* friends
i have got to catch up on work i ditched Friday before my boss logs on in the morning but! please leave a like or comment for a starter from Cecilia or Eduardo and I'll post tomorrow :)
“Thank you, what a gentleman - I don’t believe we’ve met?” The program made it clear just how big the world was, and how little of it Cecilia had seen. Then again, she’d always favored the Mediterranean. “Ah, I’m a bit of a loyalist I suppose, my taste skews Italian. What’s usually your wine of choice?”
The bustling shuffle between each glossy hightop and the dance floor had been buzzing all night. Ticiano didn’t mind the hustle and bustle of it all because it meant things were finally mending. The ominous feeling that oozed off this program seemed to ease away like a subtle evening breeze. “I’m Ticiano,” he bowed his head towards her before holding his hand out. “Ah, at least you’re willing to accept your biased, others would simply bluff about how it was superior rather than admit their obvious preference.” No matter how misled or unforunate. “I prefer a good rum, if I’m honest.”
"A pleasure," Cecilia coos, the epitome of warm-hearted etiquette as she places her hand in his. This is the part she's good at: making friends in new places. Though the clubs don't hold the same charm they used to - she refuses to entertain the possibility that she has outgrown them yet. "Cecilia Carminati. Would you prefer I call you Ticiano or will you secretly be judging me for not knowing your title? I've seen you around the pool, haven't I?" She thinks he's the type to let her get away with Christian names, his warm nature seems rooted in something real. "You're going to think my palate is terribly underdeveloped, I only really have rum in mojitos. I just love a good cocktail. So what brings you out tonight? I thought I may be the only one sneaking out."
he hadn’t expected her to be able to challenge his view. her statement let a bit of doubt creep up his spine. it was possible his privilege position made it impossible for him to see what ines had had to gain from marrying levente — because it had not been love, that much he knew for certain. “ but you can have your comforts and still be the more significant person of the pair, ” he pointed out. “ people talk too much about equal partnerships and individualism in a relationship but the fact remains that in most cases there is only one person who defines the relationship to the world — and then the other doesn’t have any other option but to be defined through their spouse. ” there was levente croÿ and his wife. wiebke wittelsbach and her husband. alexei romanov and his wife. it required modesty to make room for your spouse’s name in everything you did. “ not too personal, i hope. didn’t mean to offend you. ” the crow’s feet by his eyes nearly disappeared as his smile weakened. he directed his eyes away from hers to the water. “ i don’t date around. i don’t see the point of it even if it fit into my schedule. ” barely an answer and one he did not expect her to be satisfied with. “ and as no one interesting has come across, i haven’t dated or courted or whichever word you want to use. ” he let out a light laugh before turning to her. “ i can’t say i have exactly gone searching. i’m not much of a romantic but i can’t imagine having to spend a ridiculous amount of time with someone i merely put up with. ”
"For some, significance might be a requirement. Or just inevitable, depending on their place in life," Cecilia acknowledges with a slow nod. "I'm just....not built that way." For the first time that evening, the color that blooms in her cheeks is entirely her own, unaugmented by wine or heat. "I hope you don't mind me saying this but -- those sorts of partnerships are meant for people who either enjoy conflict in their home or those who can't afford better. You frame it like it is the last resort, to be defined by your spouse but the truth is....you'll never be in such a position. You're too powerful, important, infamous, and famous to not be the definer. Comes with being king, I would imagine, but I suspect you wouldn't allow otherwise anyway."
She shrugs, lightly. "I'm a duchess. And more importantly, drawing clear lines between the public and private eye matters to me. Whatever the world thinks....my truth belongs only to me. And the truth of my relationship would only belong to me and my partner. I don't really care how the rest of the world sees it, I just find it fun to try and control it because I happen to be very good at it. It's not my job to make decisions, I just provide options and an opinion if pressed. And that's how I like it. In retrospect, I really should have chosen someone with more direction for myself, not another follower. He wasn't even team captain." She's said too much already, maybe the wine had gotten to her. Or the hour is late enough that those lines she cherishes so dearly are getting murkier and blurrier. "You didn't offend. I'm just not used to being so honest about myself and I didn't want to feel like the only one being vulnerable. I make it seem transactional but I really do appreciate you telling me, actually. It makes sense. You don't have a lot of spare time, why waste it? But....I'm not sure this program makes it easier for interesting people to fall in your path. You know people so well now, how can there be any mystery?"
“ behind men like his highness, ” arnauld corrected, a ghost of a grin telling her that he wasn’t completely serious. at least not officially. his eyes followed her silhouette to the pool. the blue light drawing her shape clearly. “ i thought the point was to admire ? ” his chin was resting on his palm and he let a few moments pass before reaching for his heel to slip his foot out of his leather shoe. the other shoe came off with more ease. “ what about you, cecilia ? ” he inquired as he dropped down next to her by the pool. carefully not to create a ripple too loud or big, he dipped his feet into the cool water. “ would you ever settle in your husband’s shadow like princess ines ? i’m sure there is something to be gained from a sacrifice like that. if the deal is right. ”
"It's a good thing your sister isn't here to beg to differ," she teases playfully moving towards cool water with sashaying hips. Cecilia throws him a flattered grin over her shoulder before she sits, slipping her feet in and carefully rearranging her dress so it wouldn't get wet. "Admire all you like. But there's something to be said for doing things together." In a different place, in a different time, with a bit more wine in her system, she would have slipped the straps off her dress entirely and slid into the water like a siren of old.
"I suppose as a king, it seems like being in a shadow," the blonde says thoughtfully, kicking her feet slowly beneath the surface. "I don't think I would feel like I was settling. Not very modern of me, I know, but....I know what I need to be happy. I'm a simple creature, your majesty, as long as I have my comforts, I find it easy to be satisfied with life." Couldn't he tell, with her place among the Savoias? She'd never thought this may have been part of the problem with her and her ex. That they were on too even footing, there was always conflict over whose desires mattered more, no clarity. "In that sense, it's a very simple negotiation. There may have been a time where I thought....excitement and adventure was necessary but, I'm probably getting too old for that. It wouldn't be a sacrifice if I had other things occupying my time." She turns her head to note his expression. "That's a pretty personal question, though, so I hope you'll indulge me one. You haven't been seen with anyone since breaking off the engagement. Why is that?" He was a practical man, wasn't he?
“ i’m sure you enjoy the challenge, ” he replied, a faint smile on his lips. “ imagine how satisfying it will feel when you are aware of everything and everyone and their secrets. ” she would, with time, certainly learn who couldn’t stand who and why. for most part it would be enough. he laughed at the suggestion and shook his head. “ i know much less than you think. if it appeared it, it was only because i was more familiar with the people at the table than i’d like. ” fanni had left him with a wounded pride and a stupid amount of information on her family. the space the information required in his head could have been used on something more useful. arnauld sat down opposite to the duchess, his knees nearly brushing against hers. he discarded the jacket at the other end of the lounger. “ in my presence he is, i wouldn’t know much about anything else. ” arnauld had thought that levente had behaved remarkably well — which could only mean that his expectations for the man were as low as the ground. cecilia hadn’t become desensitized to the man’s awful character. “ at least ines is lovely. he just might survive with her help. ”
"Ah, I don't take challenges outside my comfort zone. Like misbehavior, challenges can be too much effort too. But I do enjoy thinking about...public reception, image management. Those do feed on secrets." Does she sound too manipulative? Best to pivot the conversation from her skills. One heel is finally toed off after the other, she crosses one leg over the other in the space between his legs, ankle unintentionally grazing his calf. "Behind every successful man is a woman? Poor her, that's a lot of pressure on top of the pregnancy. You'd think he'd cater to her a little. People will start speculating about why a man would be so uncaring to his pregnant wife and draw salacious conclusions." She nudges him with her toe, raising an eyebrow as she leans her weight on one palm. "Now. Are you taking your shoes off and joining me or are you just going to watch?"
he groaned theatrically and shook his head. “ oh, it’s a game i’m not too good at. i don’t want to sound like a sore loser but she uses some dirty tactics. ” he laughed hoping the sound would ease the irritable tension that had begun grow at the back of his head. he did not want to spare the duchess too many thoughts. she did not deserve his time. “ she’d find a way to tax me out of there, i’m sure. ”
arnauld had a hard time seeing it. cecilia who navigated through all sorts of crowds found this particular one too much ! the confidence of hers that he was familiar with hadn’t seemed that vulnerable. he hummed softly at the sincere words. “ you did not show it. that is what matters at the end of the day. really, you had me fooled the whole time. ” and considering their company... the worst thing that could have happened was cecilia embarrassing herself in front of a few croÿs. anyone could survive that. “ one might even argue that an italian duchess is more relevant than half of the princes and princesses here. can you imagine anyone remembering who the second prince of slovakia is ? you remember ignác but he’ll become king eventually, the rest... ” arnauld shrugged. perhaps he was being too honest. these were the more controversial opinions among their lot. the mention of fanni forced him to grasp onto a bit of seriousness. she was a topic he could not speak carelessly about. “ it didn’t happen overnight, ” he admitted, a sheepish look on his face. “ it’s a more recent change but I do have to say that even if things weren’t alright between us, I think we both wouldn’t let the issues show at a dinner. we’re alike in that sense, fanni and i. it’s too much effort to misbehave. ”
Her laughter is a sparkling sound, honed with hours of air time to avoid even a hint of a snort. "Well I certainly wouldn't want to contribute to more sore losses. Next thing you know, I'll have to ask that glowing Moroccan princess the best place to book a massage around here for those sore muscles." She scans his face briefly. "Perhaps I should book one anyway given how little you've enjoyed the country. You know what they say - all work, no play...."
Flattery pleases her, even if it had been empty. After all, lies were often sweeter than truths. "Performance comes easily, I suppose. And it was more fun than a board room," she concedes, "I just couldn't help but notice an undercurrent. Secrets under the surface. I'm not used to not being in the know." Lightly, without judgement, accusation, or expectation - just a soft, intrigued smile - she adds, "You seem to know them all." Those who believed knowledge was power had it backwards. Power bequeathed knowledge, controlled it and used it. Wasn't that what the blonde had served in her years in the media? A perfect instrument of implementation. As they reach the pool, Cecilia rues the tiny buckled straps of her heel, forcing her to pause and sit on a nearby sunlounger to daintily work them off. She is grateful for the curtain of shade 9.42 locks as she starts on the first, covering the fury that still gleams in her eye when she spares even a second of thought on her ex. He would know Ignác's brother. Damn footballers. "That's true. The effort is only worth it when it's fun. The stakes here make it too steep a price. You were right about the duchess' dirty tactics, Fanni didn't seem keen on staying and her brother -- you'd think his wife forced him out of the villa. Is he always...like that?"
something about the conversation gave him a terrible déjà vu. the sort that told him to do the smart thing and go directly back to his own villa — because what else could come out of this kind of a detour than a mistake ? the smile, the tone, the small sparkle in her eyes... his mistakes all looked the same. “ that sounds good. ” and he would always repeat them. his steps were slow and leisurely, his jacket flung over his shoulder. bringing it in the first place had been completely unnecessary as he had discarded it mere ten minutes after sitting down. morocco did not care about dress codes. “ ah, no... ” he laughed. “ i think i’m in a small but devastating war with the duchess of aragon. ” but he’d get to declare himself the victor the moment sergi d’arago needed something from him. he was patient enough to wait for the moment. “ did you enjoy the evening ? “
"And she's winning?" She can't help but sound incredulous, it was no small feat to embarrass a king of all people. "Or you're letting her win for now? Maybe you should have asked your family to make a little more effort with her game, take one of her vineyards and make it totally French in style and production."
Cecilia lets her head loll to one side then another in pace with her steps and hands neatly folded in front of her, deciding how truthful she wanted to be. How truthful she should be. "Honestly...I felt a little out of place. It's quite different being in the middle of so many royals, not just a few guests of honor, or the Italian court. I don't know how anyone is able to relax here. Was it alright for you? You and Princess Fanni seem to be on friendly enough terms now. Very mature of both of you, actually, I don't know that I could manage that with my ex-fiancee."
"I think I'm going to head out." She smiles from where she stands behind her seat, returned from her breath of fresh air and a detour to help a white dress in distress. "I'm not asking for company walking me back to my villa because...well, it just seems a bit silly when it's all so close, but..."
Cecilia blinks, suddenly demure and grateful for the excuse of wine to explain to red painting over her cheeks, a thin doll-like glaze. "I was thinking of stopping at the pool to dip my feet in for a little bit. Cool down the extremities. Would you be interested in joining? Consider it a break before returning, if you like." A little more boldly, she leans forward to whisper conspiratorially, "I don't buy it that you tripped into the pool, but I promise I won't let you tip in." ; @vrnvuld
Fanni’s smile was being forced to stay on her face, which made it look plastic and stiff. She turned her head to the Italian. She shook her head, hoping her sheepish blush was visible in the candlelight. “Oh gosh, please don’t think—” Her movement stopped just as abruptly as her sentence. Mh-m. Why did she bother with the Italians? “Well, I do hope the usual ending to a wine tasting in Italy isn’t a bunch of wobbly adults!” Her giggle was light and clear — well-meaning in all of its artificiality. “Luckily no one has a long walk home.”
“ it probably is ! ” olimpia quipped, placing her hands on fanni’s shoulders and peering over her shoulder at the italian duchess. she flashed the woman a smile once their eyes met. “ i can switch. but only for a while. ” she tapped fanni’s arm to urge her out of her seat. “ this table is like a breath of fresh air ! i can almost feel the… ” she looked at the people at the table. oh. “ warmth. ” maybe she hadn’t agreed to the switch of a lifetime. | @lcmbcrdy
"Ciao, your highness! I'm sure your brother and sister-in-law will appreciate you joining, but they may be getting tired of the baby small talk." There was an agenda under everyone's words that Cecelia that was finding fascinating. She lowers her voice a little. "Are you familiar with the hostess? We've never met, I'm not sure how I ended up at this table."
"Verona," Cecilia greets, "I wish you'd been at my table. There's definitely something going on with the Hungarians and French - nothing to do with the sister, it was definitely about the Crown Prince and Princess. I have theories, but it's just speculation at this point. Are you enjoying your evening?" ; @vcrcnc
“and that’s why i just never stopped smoking. now i just do it socially, whatever that means.” she smiled, feeling floaty and light. she looked at the other blonde, wondering if she should point out that the waiters were coming around with ice water like the one she was holding against her chest, easing the flush settling on her skin. “yes. though i would say it’s usually more subtle. no one usually gets this drunk this quickly.” @maximiliians
“Anything important enough to warrant the interruption would necessitate leaving the party entirely,” he hated taking phone calls around other people, he could never fully focus on the call when it might be overheard. Max returned Elyse’s smile. “I have small children, they say tobacco is not good for development.” He’d done very well, he thought, having quit almost a year prior when he joined Catherine in Canada. “Usually the focus of the event is nominally something other than drinking.” He smirked, “Are you drunk, Elyse?” @lcmbcrdy @elysefz
"I certainly hope Catherine's enjoying herself in your stead then." Cecilia looks at Elyse with unconcealed interest. "Is that so? If the French King is tripping into pools at parties, it can't be that unusual." She wouldn't mind tripping into one herself just now. "And it is just wine. I think it's time to admit it: this crowd really enjoys partying." ; @elysefz
She clicks her tongue once, golden waves cascading over her shoulder while she fans herself. It's warm and she is regretting leaving her hair loose. "You could always claim you received an important call. No one would be surprised." What he doesn't know won't hurt him: there's still a couple cigarettes left in the neat golden case of her purse, but appearances mattered so much more with this crowd. Best to keep her vices to herself. Cecilia gives him a sly glance. "So. Is this what parties here are usually like? I definitely noticed some mind games going on."
“Is that what happened?” Fanni blurted out, thoroughly surprised by the simplicity of the story. “You tripped!” She grinned at Arnauld. It was silly. It was… “No wonder I couldn’t get an answer out of you that night.” She hid her smile behind her hand for a moment to let Ines have the spotlight. Ines and her child. Ines and her chain. To Fanni the polite and sweet questions just sounded raw and cruel.
“ seven months now, ” and what an emotional rollercoaster it’s been ! “ oh, you don’t have to do all that, barbie, ” the baby glow is a myth that certainly did not befall her — but in the same, commonplace way ‘happy new year’ always proceeded ‘merry christmas’, people loved to comment on a healthy glow after congratulating a woman on her pregnancy. “ you call it glow, i call it a side effect of morrocco’s humidity, ” sweat ! her ankles are swollen, her cheeks are puffy, and the baby’s kicks (just as she’s falling asleep!) leave permanent dark circles under her eyes. she busies her hands with the cheese knife, cutting into the gruyere. the first years of her marriage had trained her to act the part of doting wife, only, it was easier before he had teased her with the promise of a white picket fence. “ oh, levi’s been wonderful ! surprisingly, a natural. he’s been very accommodating, ” like when she’d requested they sleep in separate rooms, he did accommodate !
the most obvious sign of his irritation was the tenseness in his jaw that he could not get rid of. he kept giving the woman too many second chances. she had decided a moment of entertainment at his expense was the better deal to a friendly relationship with him. he turned to fanni, narrowing his eyes at her. “ oh come on, you had to know the story wasn’t going to be the most glamorous one. ” his hand lightly brushed the side of her leg before he directed his attention at the couple. “ mh, the birth of the first planned child is truly a milestone. congratulations, levente, ines. ” he nodded at both of the royals.
Cecelia peered interestedly as the conversation volleyed across the table, idly comparing each comment to the precise tennis strokes she wouldn't be able to see at Wimbledon this year. This was far more interesting, even if there were no athletes to admire. The French king's choice of wording had caught her ear, why go into such detail as to point out the child was planned? Were there rumors she had missed?
"Both sides of the family must be thrilled to have the opportunity to spoil you as you deserve, your highness," she says warmly, glancing at the Hungarian princess in acknowledgment as well. "When is the baby shower?" Her face falls. "Oh dear, I hope it wasn't meant to be a surprise."
“Is that what happened?” Fanni blurted out, thoroughly surprised by the simplicity of the story. “You tripped!” She grinned at Arnauld. It was silly. It was… “No wonder I couldn’t get an answer out of you that night.” She hid her smile behind her hand for a moment to let Ines have the spotlight. Ines and her child. Ines and her chain. To Fanni the polite and sweet questions just sounded raw and cruel.
“ seven months now, ” and what an emotional rollercoaster it’s been ! “ oh, you don’t have to do all that, barbie, ” the baby glow is a myth that certainly did not befall her — but in the same, commonplace way ‘happy new year’ always proceeded ‘merry christmas’, people loved to comment on a healthy glow after congratulating a woman on her pregnancy. “ you call it glow, i call it a side effect of morrocco’s humidity, ” sweat ! her ankles are swollen, her cheeks are puffy, and the baby’s kicks (just as she’s falling asleep!) leave permanent dark circles under her eyes. she busies her hands with the cheese knife, cutting into the gruyere. the first years of her marriage had trained her to act the part of doting wife, only, it was easier before he had teased her with the promise of a white picket fence. “ oh, levi’s been wonderful ! surprisingly, a natural. he’s been very accommodating, ” like when she’d requested they sleep in separate rooms, he did accommodate !
the most obvious sign of his irritation was the tenseness in his jaw that he could not get rid of. he kept giving the woman too many second chances. she had decided a moment of entertainment at his expense was the better deal to a friendly relationship with him. he turned to fanni, narrowing his eyes at her. “ oh come on, you had to know the story wasn’t going to be the most glamorous one. ” his hand lightly brushed the side of her leg before he directed his attention at the couple. “ mh, the birth of the first planned child is truly a milestone. congratulations, levente, ines. ” he nodded at both of the royals.
Cecelia peered interestedly as the conversation volleyed across the table, idly comparing each comment to the precise tennis strokes she wouldn't be able to see at Wimbledon this year. This was far more interesting, even if there were no athletes to admire. The French king's choice of wording had caught her ear, why go into such detail as to point out the child was planned? Were there rumors she had missed?
"Both sides of the family must be thrilled to have the opportunity to spoil you as you deserve, your highness," she says warmly, glancing at the Hungarian princess in acknowledgment as well. "When is the baby shower?" Her face falls. "Oh dear, I hope it wasn't meant to be a surprise."
“ here, try this, ” he tosses before he looks, awareness diminished by wine, and the grape launches towards someone who is certainly not helena. “ shit — sorry. i thought you were someone else. ”
she knew she had been making a choice wearing white to a red wine tasting. there had been assumption on her part that her company would not be awfully rowdy. “ that’s OKAY. “ she squeaked, looking down and watching the red seep and bleed through. “ is it very BAD ? “
"Oh no, hold on, I've got the perfect thing." Cecilia's steps towards the ladies' rooms halt in favor of doing what she did best: cleaning up messes as one ex-something put it. She pulls a slender tube from her clutch. "Stain remover. Got in the habit of carrying this after I ended up with a lipstick mark on a pastel sleeve. Now, you've apologized but..." The blonde arches a brow at the man she's less familiar with. "How will you make amends?"
Fanni’s smile was being forced to stay on her face, which made it look plastic and stiff. She turned her head to the Italian. She shook her head, hoping her sheepish blush was visible in the candlelight. “Oh gosh, please don’t think—” Her movement stopped just as abruptly as her sentence. Mh-m. Why did she bother with the Italians? “Well, I do hope the usual ending to a wine tasting in Italy isn’t a bunch of wobbly adults!” Her giggle was light and clear — well-meaning in all of its artificiality. “Luckily no one has a long walk home.”
"No, not at a wine tasting," she readily agrees, "But I did hear from a few program members that the events here tend to....create the environment where people feel comfortable lowering their inhibitions. Although, even if propriety isn't always at the top of everyone's mind, it seems there was an unintentional dress code! I wasn't expecting quite so many in pantsuits, but it certainly makes your dress look very elegant in comparison."
"No, not at a wine tasting," she readily agrees, "But I did hear from a few program members that the events here tend to....create the environment where people feel comfortable lowering their inhibitions. Although, even if propriety isn't always at the top of everyone's mind, it seems there was an unintentional dress code! I wasn't expecting quite so many in pantsuits, but it certainly makes your dress look very elegant in comparison."
“ no but it’s refreshing. water’s ONLY important before going to bed. ” he winked at her, his boyish grin eventually got wiped away by the wine glass he picked at random. it was a poor substitute for the pinkish cocktail of his that the duchess now held. “ if you have to learn to like something, it can’t be REALLY good, can it ? everyone likes cocktails and ciders immediately. wine and beer ? takes a bit of learning. ” he wasn’t going to point out how he ADORED beer. how he had conditioned himself to enjoy it at first. “ that bitter poison ? who could drink it ? ” his shocked and appalled expression wouldn’t have convinced a child let alone a grown woman. “ coffees are all good but this one will make you hate me: pizza is not that great. it’s good but not life changing. ”
"I think that reveals more about your palate than everyone else's - you like things fruity? What's your favorite drink then?" Her mouth parts, falling open before she sputters into girlish laughter. She's torn between amusement and indulgence. "You know what I think? I think you just like having controversial opinions because it makes you seem that much more interesting. Just for that, I'm feeling tempted to keep this lovely little drink you're so fond of, and make you suffer through a few more rounds of tasting what you so dislike."
