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@madelenegiles
Honestly I could use a whole lot of help if I’m honest. I’ve never been allowed to attend a ball so… I’m not the owner of anything worthwhile of wearing. Do you have any suggestions?
Oh, well! Mm, I would say Lord Bonnaire's the man to ask for that sort of advice--I dress a lady, my lord, so all my experience is on sack gowns and the like. Hm, a good coat to the knee, that couldn't go amiss. Nor a black neck-cloth, those are never out-of-style, not in my opinion.
colettelavigne:
Oh, I think that is the greatest sentence I could hear at this moment.
I suppose you will be busy on the night of the ball, however?
Aye, I have an invitation, an' all. Much good it'll do! Ha, I know the songs what people dance to, but not how to dance to 'em.
I never realised quite how difficult it is to find suitable attire for a ball.
Oh? Do you need a bit of help, Alex?
… I don’t suppose you like children, do you?
Oh, aye! I reckon I do.
When did trying to find a gown become such a struggle?
Oh, my lady. The dressmakers have been all booked up for weeks now--the ball being so near, and such.
Oh! My apologies, my lady, I didn’t think anyone would be napping at this hour. Shall I leave you to your rest?
Nay, nay ... it's about time I got up and made meself useful again, anyway. I should thank you! Ah, it's been a while since I last fell asleep in the daytime.
Gods, but it’s dark in here..how can you possibly stand it?
Oh--oh, blessed be! Reckon I was dozing!
My apologies, but the performance is over for the day. That is unless, of course, you require something else of me?
Oh, aye, already? I'll come by earlier, next time.
Oh, hm.
My apologies, m’lady, I’m not sure it possesses a quality of that kind.
But I do have a blade - so long as you don’t cut yourself, I’d hate to be the cause of your pain.
Oh, that's alright. Do you have a knife then? I can handle one o' them just fine; I've knicked meself bad in the past. Over less than a bit of sewing, as well.
Oh, hm.
Only my wit, m’lady.
Oh--you clever lad! If it can cut thread, my lord, I'll be glad to take it.
Oh, hm.
Gone and tangled up the thread, have I ... and the scissors not to be had! Reckon I left them elsewhere ... begging your pardon, you aren't carrying something sharp, are you?
The invitation is slipped under Madelene’s door, and addressed to her personally. She is requested as a guest, rather than a handmaiden.
Eventually she puzzles through the text, although she's fairly certain as to what it is. Madelene wonders, briefly, who will attend the princess if she is a guest, and then slots in her schedule a bit of time to add that bit of trim to her best blue silk dress.
My dear Madelene,
I have arrived in Corstorphine safely, and am in good health, if not good spirits. The sun is hotter than I remember, and the breeze brings little comfort. The smell of the ocean is everywhere. The very air tastes of salt. Still, I expect you’d love it. You’d find the water beautiful. It does have a charm, at times.
I have not yet required the knife, but I may yet, if Corstorphinian ale fails to live up to its reputation.
I hope you are well.
- Demetri
"Perhaps I heard it in a song once and unconsciously remembered it. I have never been one to be confined to one place for a long period of time. But that could also be that I just have not found my proper home just yet."
They stay with you, don't they? "Go where you are needed ... " I like the sound of that. Perhaps one day, my lady, you'll find it, yet.
Oh, but we were talking about--quietness! Well, it's never quiet long around me, I'm forever jangling. I teach some of the young ladies music lessons when I have a hour free.
Excuse me,
Your optimism is refreshing, especially after living with rather grim guardsmen and knights for so long. The Princess is a kind soul, and it is a pleasure and honour to serve her.
Are the other guardsmen very grim? I reckon the Queen demands a bit o' solemnity out of her guard, but whenever I speak to the Lord Commander he seems the very soul of cheer.
Brr.
[Demetri holds the flask in his palm, running his thumb over the emblazoned ram’s head almost reverently.]
The knife, you say?
Why, Madelene, you know me too well.
[Genuinely touched, Demetri slides the flask into his jacket pocket, and then pats it.]
I’ll keep it for emergencies. But I’ll remember my promise, so try not to worry too much.
Aye, my lord. Hm, just, ah, keep hold of the handle, y'know. There's a saying--"Start a fight with one knife and end it with another." Not that that happens too often, of course.
I wish you luck, my lord, and good speed, too. And take care going through the door.
Brr.
[Demetri smiles, somewhat taken about by Madelene’s warning.]
That sounds like a grave responsibility, Madelene— don’t you think I should know what I’m agreeing to before swearing?
…then again, you are a very trustworthy person.
Alright, Madelene. I swear.
Alright. [She seems satisfied with this oath. Madelene reveals the object in her hand, which is a metal drinking flask emblazoned with a ram's head, the kind of trinket that could be bought on a handmaid's wages. She shakes it. Liquid swishes inside.]
Where I was born, this is called the "knife." You never drink it by itself, my lord, it's for cutting and getting the job done quick. And it's got an edge on it, so to speak. [Madelene offers it to him.] And you can keep the flask, of course, my lord.
