the viscountess kenworthy

26 // closed rp blog

[mariekenworthy]

Goodness, VISCOUNTESS OF FALMOUTH MARIE KENWORTHY has arrived in London. SHE is 26, of the FALMOUTH KENWORTHYS. Though they are NEW to the Season, we can only describe them as GENEROUS and INSIGHTFUL, dear reader. Accompanied by A CLOSE FRIEND, they have settled in and are accepting social calls. But be warned: they are known for their WAY OF DISAPPEARING DURING SOCIAL EVENTS. 

Marie has been coerced by her best friend Catherine into finally joining in on the season after many years of studiously avoiding the whole ordeal. Her mother died when she was three, and her father passed away when she was sixteen. After his death, she busied herself with governing her household and her family’s affairs, always giving logical reasons as to why she couldn’t make it to London for the season. 

Her excuses have finally run out.

Independent and confident, Marie has mixed feelings about marriage. She’s aware that her wealth and position are more attractive than her features; if she marries, she at least wants to marry someone who is her intellectual equal who won’t try too hard to control her. Love is a sweet idea and she wants it, but it’s probably not in the cards for her.

She isn’t completely detached from the social scene. She does have a moderate social life, but she has a habit of purposefully misplacing herself in people’s libraries and conservatories. When she is in a chatty mood, Marie gravitates toward conversations about books, art, philosophy, business, and travel.

She has a hedgehog named Basil. He is much adored. And spoiled.

[mariekenworthy]

lordxfrederick​:

“I’m sure. I’m always sure.” He was not always sure, but that was neither here nor there. Frederick continued to offer his arm, and waited for the lady to make her choice. Perhaps she wanted to have a go of it on her own. That was fair. Unwise, judging by the sound of a thump near the far wall - a portrait of the host’s mother was now laying on the floor  - but fair. He also liked to test things out for himself.

“Well? What do you think?”

-

“All right, if you say so,” Marie said, glancing around the room at everyone’s varying success. She took his arm and instantly felt less like her feet were going to fly right out from under her. The worry of zooming across the room and crashing into a wall wasn’t as intense as it had been. 

She scooted out a little, unsure but determined to at least try. The wheels clacked once, twice over the floorboards, but she had to force them to move. “It’s like...very difficult ice skating.”

[mariekenworthy]

damien-keyes​:

Damien had found a willing soul to slip away from the confines of the table. He left his chair with the same amount of hedged in enthusiasm to follow the look in her eyes. And took both of their drinks in hand to meet up with Marie on the edge of the floor. A short distance away from the musicians. 

So many rules, so many ways to trip over oneself. Not unlike Liverpool, of course. The spirits there were bored. Less distractions. No Queen. Easier to lure into a bit of fun. Damien had long realized he missed the color of up north. The fun. The tug of wars between lords and ladies. The particular brand of intrigue and gossip. 

Maybe the petite woman beside him felt the same. He leaned to an ear so the lady could hear him over the rising tuning of the musicians. “Your companion is dull, isn’t he?” Anyone could see that. Anyone with eyes could see. Not everyone would say. Damien had so little to lose, so it came easily. “How much would you risk here…” In front of Queen Charlotte, before the spotlights fixed on the chairs of the favored players of society. “To have some fun? Because we’ve made it this far.” Far away from the table, at least. “We’re here, shouldn’t we have a proper look around?” 

-

The corner of her mouth quirked up. Poor Fitz. He was a very intellectual person, and he was kind-hearted and meant well. But he did tend to only want to debate about medieval art and literature, and there was so much more out there. “He’s kind,” she said, the half-smile betraying her less favorable thoughts. And safe. Which these days she was beginning to tire of.

She should stay where she had been. She should go back to the table, sit beside Fitz, smile, engage in conversation. Definitely not go anywhere with this man and his temptations. But she was already going to be an outcast after this Season, she was almost certain. So what exactly did she have to lose? Her title? Her home? Her good standing in court? She wasn’t entirely sure what the Queen would do. Then again, the queen might not even notice her absence. She certainly wasn’t the favorite around here, which she didn’t mind.

“I’m amenable to the idea,” she said, looking away from the musicians and toward him. “It’s such an interesting location. How much trouble could we get in for admiring it?” Plenty. She took one step backwards, away from the table and the other lords and ladies.

[mariekenworthy]

lordxfrederick​:

Frederick hesitated in swapping out his own, carefully chosen, footwear. He was quite intrigued by the idea as a whole, but already guest were flopping about the dance floor. Could it rightfully be called a dance floor when that wasn’t the activity of the evening? Although there weren’t exactly protocols in place for this situation, waiting for her to return seemed the polite thing to do.

“Perhaps I could…” He held out his arm as if offering to lead her on to - he caught himself thinking the dance floor once again, even though he had just settled this internal debate - he cleared his throat. Then realizing the shoes added a little height, he raised his elbow accordingly.

“Allow me to escort you.”

A chair could provide balance, but it also confined one to a small space in which to move. Like an animal on a very short lead. Which, he thought, was a comparison best kept to himself. He smiled at her.

“This way you may move about the room.”

-

A smile tugged at the corner of Marie’s mouth, though she didn’t automatically grab his arm. This did seem like an excellent way to injure oneself. It was prime for chaos. About the room, there was an atmosphere of hesitancy and excitement. Yes, it seemed like potential fun, but what if you crashed or rolled yourself out a window? But if Lord Effingham was going to ensure she didn’t go rolling to her doom…

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you like to join in?”

[mariekenworthy]

damien-keyes​:

The lady… he leaned in the most obvious way to see the name placard, but so be it. The Lady Marie Kenworthy. Damien reminded himself of protocols– which in all honesty felt tedious. However, Queen Charlotte reigned at the end of the table. 

If anything, the son of Remy ‘Cut-throat’ Keyes was in stabbing distance of the queen. As did the daugher of ‘the dreaded pirate ‘Mad’ Fenn. Not that he had collected silverware or plotted with weapons (although they were in reach…) to do so. No reason for that. The luncheon would be a note in personal history. 

They climbed the peak. Damien and Caroline. Unexpected and unplanned, and he doubted there would be a celebration between them. But still. 

Children of pirates. Boat babies– a term so filled with hostility and denigration that Damien did not want to dwell. 

Lady Kenworthy was pretty, and appeared to want to slink between a fall of chestnut hair and a boring suitor. Judging by the repetition, Damien might’ve proved just as boring to her. And for that, he had to laugh under his breath. 

“I’m sorry.” He started. “Predictable at best, I know.” Damien never bragged about shooting an arrow straight at a heart on first glance. He worked slower, perhaps too slow. He’d missed an opportunity here or there for calculating and recalibrating too long on a target. 

But here they are. Coming up on the end of the season. Much of it could be chalked up to fluff, and yet he wouldn’t let a chance with such a beautiful woman pass. He spoke in a low whisper. “A change of pace, yes.” Repetition. “Forgive me but you do seem… not so pleased?”

Oh, the pain of talking to someone at a dinner party. Damien could relate. Another whisper. “I wanted to get a closer look at the musicians.” Or, the instruments waiting for someone to come and adopt them, to pick them up and subdue everyone within hearing. “Would you care to join me, before the luncheon begins? I do like to see what will be played. Makes it a bit more personal for me, in a strange way.”

-

Marie’s gaze flicked to him. Was it so very clear on her face? Wonderful. It wasn’t that she disliked Fitz, it was just…the outside world was calling, and The Season was ending, and she wanted to go somewhere. Anywhere. There were so many countries and not nearly enough time to see them all. She was tired of sitting and waiting for permission that was never going to come.

A half-smile crossed her face at his accurate guess. Let him read into it what he would. Giving a vocal or even silent confirmation that this luncheon in particular was not her favorite most likely was not an excellent idea.

But his next question… “Not so strange,” she whispered back, seeing an excuse to leave the table and latching onto it, even if it was just for the moment. “I can’t see the harm in it.” With the fast step that often led to the beginning of an escape, she got up and stepped around her chair and headed that way, looking back at him with a bit of mischievous ‘come on’ in her eyes.

[mariekenworthy]

lordxfrederick​:

“… Oh! Yes, well, let me try,” he said, barely registering anything until she waved the shoes right in front of his face. He had been far too wrapped up in what lay before them. Wheels on shoes. Ingenious, but perhaps dangerous as well. If it could work for carriages, it could work similarly for people. Only carriage wheels had a way of breaking at the most inopportune times. Freddie turned the shoes over in his hands.

But if someone had found a way to take an outdoor activity and bring it inside - he held no trust for bodies of water that had frozen over, ice was merely drowning hazard with a few extra steps - surely the improvement compensated for any risk.

He carefully set his boots aside, tucking them gently beneath a chair. Someplace they would be out of the way, and not likely to be scuffed or stepped on. Then he sat. Pulled on the new pair of shoes, and found that they almost fit. They were a little loose in the heel, but a little tight in the toe. He wiggled them around.

“How… how do you…” How did one stand up?

“How do yours fit?”

-

Marie handed over the pair before going back to the box and looking for a pair that might fit her. Around the room, people were already laughing and giggling, and some of the ladies were acting very embarrassed that their ankles were being seen. She supposed that was a part of the scandal here. Small-scale, not much to lose reputation wise since everyone in the party was doing it. Maybe the host did it intentionally, or perhaps it wasn’t even thought of.

Grabbing a pair that might be a likely fit, she headed back to her chair and slipped off her shoes quickly. The first one went on quickly and she went ahead and put on the other before lacing them both up, wrapping the long laces around the top of the shoes.

“Decently,” she said, uncertainly putting them on the floor. Tentatively, she rolled them back and forth. They seemed a little loose, so she reworked the laces and pulled them tighter.

Across the way, Bathilda Mayberry stood and prompt fell right into one of the barons. Marie nodded once, realizing that this really was a potentially chaotic scene them had found themselves in.

“I think…I’m going to hold onto the chair for starters.” She stood up, tossing a half-smile his way, before reaching out and grabbing the back of the chair. With tiny, awkward scooting movements, one foot barely in front of the other, she made her way behind the chair so she could hold onto the back of it. “Actually, right here is quite nice…”

[mariekenworthy]

damien-keyes​:

13 July 1799 The Queen’s luncheon @mariekenworthy​

Damien absently studied the quartet from a distance. One goal had been in mind– speaking to a lord who sat seats away. Watching the musicians suddenly brought an idea to life of how to accomplish the task. He smiled to himself, and then turned to the lady beside him. “Such a different atmosphere than the galas and balls, is it not?” Dour, suffocating as a too-tightly tied cravat. The stifling panted air of attendees living in abject fear of a faux pas in front of the Queen. But he would not mention those differences. 

-

Marie was inspecting the decorations with a bored gaze that she hoped merely looked aloof when the gentleman beside her spoke. She realized he was talking to her and nodded once as she shifted in his direction. “Very much so,” she said, resisting the urge to look around the table. She had thought it might be a good idea to come here since there had been an invitation, but she was regretting her decision. Marie would normally say that she preferred libraries or the theater or outdoors or, really, anywhere besides such a tightly laced place, but… Things like that probably shouldn’t be said at the queen’s table. She searched around for something innocuous to say. “It’s very much a change of pace.” Huh, maybe that wasn’t entirely harmless.

Oh well, she was probably going to get chalked up as a unmarriageable wild thing after this Season, anyways. Might as well begin sliding into the role.

[mariekenworthy]

lordxfrederick​:

“No, that’s correct. I was going to say cheetah. What’s interesting though - ”

His story cut off abruptly. What he found interesting about the quickest animal on land would have to wait, because a sudden hush over the room announced the arrival of the party’s host. Alongside the man, two footman carrying a crate between them. It did not appear to be all the heavy, but it was clearly wide enough that two arms could not manage alone.

The crate was placed in the center of the room. Its lid quickly wrenched off, and set to the side. Frederick sat up much straighter in his chair, attempting to peer over the side, but he couldn’t see anything except loose straw used for packing.

“Come! Gather ‘round,” said the host to the room, “Come see what I’ve had shipped all the way here to London for tonight’s entertainment!” For a moment, no one moved. Then Frederick, and a few others, popped up out of their seats. Freddie offered his hand to Lady Kenworthy.

-

Hmm, she was more interested in his story than the crate. Marie was wary of whatever was in the box. So far this Season, large surprise party boxes had held ridiculous hats, paper birds, and one extremely lethargic snake.

Marie glanced over at the box and mustered up some curiosity. She was here, and she was going to need to participate, so she might as well enjoy it. She took his Frederick’s hand as he offered it and they made their way over to the box.

Which contained…shoes. The host picked one up and held it out to all of them, showing off the clever sets of wheels that had been attached to the pair. Each shoe was like that, and they came in a variety of sizes. “Tonight, we skate without ice, we glide in comfort instead of frosty weather. We embrace our natural grace without the clumsiness of winter,” their host effused, his joy hard to not catch onto. He was certainly having a good time. “Please, please, everyone, choose a pair. My ballroom is your skating rink.”

Marie had heard of roller skates once, but she had never seen a pair. Someone thrust a set into her hands, but they were much too large. She held them out to Lord Effingham. “Will these fit you?”

[mariekenworthy]

theseason-narrator​:

13 July 1799 A bit before or after 2pm

Almacks is an unassuming building, three stories tall with a stone front. Windows look sightlessly onto King Street, their panes reflecting the high blue of the sky and – more frequently – the bustle of Pall Mall. 

Some effort has been taken for this event, however. Ribbons garland the iron fence, and two stone pillars are topped with overflowing bouquets of summer roses. Manservants wait outside in their customary navy jackets, brass buttons polished to a bright shine, to assist with carriages as they arrive. King Street is quite busy, of course. There is little time for dallying.

One by one, the ladies of Almacks arrive – the Marchioness, and the Lady Dame, and the Viscountess Castlereagh all sweep through the double doors and disappear inside, quick to assume their places as the high court of the assembly rooms. With them, they bring sisters, cousins, an unmatched son or two. The luncheon – a daringly new affair – is meant for couples, but who is to say that a match cannot be made?

The clocktower on Pall Mall rings out at quarter-till – or is it quarter-past? as a carriage rolls to a stop before the entrance. Are you awkwardly early or dratted late?

—

It’s here! The penultimate event of our Season: Queen Charlotte’s Luncheon – and, consequently, your first decision. The wind is fair on 13 July 1799, clouds puffy and breeze light as the doors of Almacks Assembly Rooms swing open. There are no wrong decisions, here, but you must make one. Your carriage has arrived – are you early or late?

Reply to this post as if it were an open starter, and tell us how your character has prepared, if they are attending with their date (or meeting there), and how they feel about being terribly early (or late!).

@halestcrm & @mountainmarquess @regencyhearts & @lions-seong @francesfitzroy & @ixnay-on-the-ipshay @sebastianofprussia & @lucy-needham @miss-caroline & @damien-keyes @herr-herzog & @asterofpomerania & @jeremiahtheyankee @lordxfrederick + miss kitty dorrington @mariekenworthy + lord fitzwilliam fitzgerald

Marie half-smiled as Fitz started a round of apologies to the hosts about how early they were. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, and honestly, being early would maybe make it easier to also leave earlier. Fitz’s face was rather red, poor man. He was a true sweetheart and a massively private person, and Marie enjoyed his quiet companies. He kept his apologies brief and soft spoken, and while he spoke, Marie nodded her agreement. Yes, very sorry, many apologies, all that.

Getting prepared for the event had been a last-minute sort of affair. Fitz had asked if she wanted to attend with him, and she had agreed, not knowing any reason not to. She wasn’t sure if he intended to ask for her hand or not, though she would rather he didn’t. He was tall, handsome, and kind beyond measure, but there wasn’t a real spark there and at this point, Marie had decided she didn’t necessarily need to get married to do whatever she wanted. She was rich. She was already eccentric. The only thing that kept her from embracing being The Odd One was people’s opinions, and the Season had helped her learn that people’s opinions were quickly changing and nothing she did could possibly keep her in their good graces.

Between planning her tour, she had prepared for the luncheon, which involved finding a new pearl necklace and earrings set, a light seafoam green dress, and a pair of cream-colored shoes. Travels ideas took precedence, but she still planned to be there. She and Fitz were matching, but he was wearing darker green and a deeper shade of cream.

After they finished their excuses, Marie slipped her hand into the crook of Fitz’s elbow and shared a small smile with him. It seemed like he had successfully navigated the issue. They headed inside to await the rest of the festivities.

[mariekenworthy]

lordxfrederick​:

“A broken ankle would not bode well for the rest of the season,” he whispered, the hint of a grin crossing his face. No, indeed. Perhaps that was the tactic he should play the next time he found himself facing down a quadrille he didn’t care to take part in. 

“She would miss all the dancing.”

Such a rare occurrence that was, though. Frederick liked dancing. He enjoyed the chance to parade a meticulously chosen outfit across the room. The only memory he could drawn up of not wanting to dance was the night of the regatta ball. However, he’d had a much better excuse than a twisted ankle, and everyone knew it.

“Do you know what the fastest animal in the world is?”

-

“Depends on how the Season is going,” Marie said, returning his bit of a grin with a tiny smirk of her own. Not that she would wish that on anyone, but…it would give someone a rather miserable escape, if they were that desperate.

Marie lifted one eyebrow and then pursed her lips as she thought about it. “I would say a cheetah, but I feel like you’re expecting that and have another answer…”

[mariekenworthy]

halestcrm​:

“Hello,” she said in return, glancing sidelong at the woman who appeared beside her. It was strange, Victoria thought, how many people approached her that evening–she realized her dress practically glowed in the dark, and that seemed to draw attention, but was there something off-putting about her normally that kept people away?

Or did she care? Victoria smiled a bit at herself for even wondering. She liked being alone when she was being herself, but tonight she was someone… different, or so she liked to think, and perhaps this was the night she enjoyed the company of strangers and friends alike (since, depending on the mask, she could not tell the difference).

“No, not yet,” Victoria said with a shake of her head. “I believe it will start very soon. Would you like to watch together? Oh!” Victoria glanced down as she noticed what looked like writing on the bodice of the other lady’s dress. “Is that–are those books?” She resisted reaching out to touch and find out for herself. “How can that possibly be comfortable?”

Marie smiled and brushed a hand across the ‘pages’ of the dress’s skirt. She really was quite pleased with her outfit, even if it made her easily identifiable. Almost everyone knew how much she loved reading, and putting that together with her hair color and other general features, she would be easy to pick out from the crowd.

“They’re sewn to the bodice, and it’s just the leather covers,” she said. It had been a bit tricky for the dressmaker, but she had been wellpaid for the challenge. The books had all been old and damaged, and Marie had found them all herself at sellers around the city. It had been a literary adventure, finding all the old books.

“I like you dress, too,” she said. While she didn’t have anything that particular color, it looked quite beautiful on the other woman. “And certainly, if you’d like to watch the show, we could. Or we could find something else to divert our attention, there are plenty of options.”

[mariekenworthy]

lordxfrederick​:

July 1799 @mariekenworthy

The room in Lord Villiers’ house that would normally have been set aside for dancing had been cleared in the usual manner. That was where anything usual came to an end. There were no extravagant decorations, or table-wide sugar sculptures. Everyone in attendance sat in chairs along the wall, waiting for the host to reappear with, as hushed gossip traveled down the line of chairs suggested, improvements upon a marvelous invention.

“I keep hearing something about wheels. What are they saying on your other side?” whispered Frederick to the viscountess.

“I heard we’re going to learn about speed,” Marie replied, just as in the dark about the whole thing as he was. She had recently returned from a stint in the countryside and had managed to avoid a good many parties that way. “Miss Abernathy mentioned she was worried about falling over, which seems a bit…overly concerned since they only served one flute of champagne so far.” Unless she was naturally inclined to tipping over.

She crossed her arms over her chest, mildly curious. “Maybe they’re going to have us try out very tall shoes.”

On her other side, Daphne Bottlesworth looked to be halfway terrified as she chattered to a friend. “I can’t afford to break an ankle, I really can’t.”

[mariekenworthy]

grahamxsahi​:

He watched Marie from several feet away. She barely moved, likely absorbing the titles of books in one area of a shelf before continuing on. Eventually the duke set his own glass beside hers. The rolling ladder slipped quietly closer to Marie and he used it to lean on. 

“There is a little of everything here. However, I mostly like poetry. History. Biographies of composers. Accounts from newly discovered lands…” He realized perhaps also ‘everything’, or at least close enough. “The most precious ones are behind glass. As well as some artwork. I have a few pieces signed by William Blake.” Graham would not interrupt by pointing those out. 

Marie pulled a particularly gem off the shelf. His head tilted although he didn’t need to have a look to know what it was. Dark brows bent but his expression remained amused. A short pause for the sake of drama. “France. Arles, to be precise. A small little stall in the market. It was a gift to me, someone else had a better eye that day than I.” 

His gaze dipped from her profile to the floor. Fingers drummed quickly and then his eyes lifted once more. “I suspect your library rivals mine, does it not?”

-

If it was possible, her eyes lit up even more at the mention of those travel and expedition books. Travelogues were possibly her favorite type of nonfiction; living vicariously through other people’s adventures only made her hungrier for her own, but traveling through books was better than not traveling at all.

She could stay in here for hours. If she simply moved between her library and his, she would never truly need to go anywhere again, no matter how much she wanted to see the world.

Her lips pursed together when he took forever to actually say where he got it, but the expression was born more from amusement than true irritation. “That’s…an incredibly lucky find,” she said, her fingers resting on the cover, which seemed to pop open of its own accord. Her eyes scanned the first page, heedless that her attention should be more on him than his book collection. But he must have known what he was doing, unleashing her in here.

A smirk danced across her face as she pulled her attention from the page. Honestly, she could divide her gaze between the book and him. She rested one foot on the bottom rung of the rolling ladder that he was leaning against and gave it the lightest of teasing nudges. “Whoever goes to the bookstore next wins,” she said, meeting his gaze. The book in her hand closed with a hesitant gesture, as if her fingers were having a hard time actually doing her bidding. “Is this where you go, when you’re abandoning parties? Or do you just go to your next party?”  

[mariekenworthy]

grahamxsahi​:

His lazy stride hitched as Marie smiled and… went back to her book. She had such an understated and unimpressed attitude. 

But kind. Sweet and savory blended together as Marie peered out at them all from her internal world. 

“Rules are meant to be broken, Marie.” A hand rested on the lamp post she leaned against. Graham was on his second… or third wind of the evening. All of the drinks consumed earlier landed hard, at once, as they tended to do. And they faded away, leaving Sussex remarkably lucid in his most favored time of the night/day. 

And… oh bloody hell. Graham followed clues like an eager hound driven by a reward at the end. Riddles and charades, he only played out of his love for Frederick

But this one rang clear to him before she had even finished. He waited and reached for the ribbon, letting it slip through his fingers. “I would not dream of disappointing you. I do have a guess.” 

His hand slipped up to her cheek. Graham searched her eyes for only a second before leaning down to catch her lips. A kiss. Soft and tender like the riddle and to match the conversation, but with a nip at the end on her lower lip to punctuate.

He straightened up, his hand lingered on her face. “And now, we’re leaving?” Because the victor still had to arrive first. 

“We’re supposed to be using fake names.” She raised her eyebrows at that comment about the rules. Of course that was his opinion. But wasn’t it easier to simply bend the rules? Bending worked better in the long run, in her opinion. Or that’s what she had always thought. Instead of launching into the argument, she let her disagreement stand in silence, her expression wry.

Her hand came up, brushing the ribbon back as if to put it out of reach until he gave her an answer. Her eyes glinted with amusement in the dim lamplight, knowing he wouldn’t fail this unless it was on purpose.

Against her better judgment, she leaned into his touch before he kissed her. The nip that sealed it made her grin.

“Yes,” she said, “And we should probably hurry.” Just because she was often seen as gentle didn’t mean she didn’t have a small competitive streak. It was probably what had inclined her to giving him a simple riddle with one too many clues.

With a deft move, she pushed away from the lamp post, pulled away from his touch, and then caught his free hand. “Shall we, Bacchus?”

[mariekenworthy]

grahamxsahi​:

He nodded slow in confirmation. Marie. A calm presence in the storm of the season. A mix of odd little rituals– departing parties as they reached their peak, speaking of books but never a hint of the stories she liked to be lost in. She walked a path carved out for herself and herself alone, and yet could be willingly guided off it if there was another offer (not always a better one). 

They might have wasted a lot of weeks playing coy, but neither seemed terribly bothered. “Marie.” Said as if meeting her for the first time, noting a hand on his sleeve. “I am accustomed to Your Grace. However, I think we are beyond that. Graham will do.” 

And of course, Marie could come and go as she pleased. 

–

Wine was poured, a humble Italian red. Graham led her upstairs to the library. The door opened and without a word he walked over to the rolling ladder to move it from blocking some of his favorites. “The cataloguing is my own, unfortunately.” By years. By authors. Sometimes, because he liked how one spine sat beside another based on color and height. 

He easily found what he was looking for, no matter how many glasses of wine he drank. “If only you say what you’re looking for. As you have not, ever, mentioned what you read. To me.” Another drink, and then the glass rested on a large desk. A finger lifted. “I collect many different types of books. Some… more palatable than others.” Way too soon to reveal the writings of the French Marquis. “Fiction, poetry, non-fiction? What do you like, Marie?”

-

While the wine warmed her, Marie instantly sobered at the sight of the library, filled instead with an instant desire to investigate his collection. While her own was expansive, she could never resist going through someone else’s library; it was like a glimpse into someone’s mind, in her opinion. Or it was if they actually read the books. Otherwise, what was the point.

Her glass found its way to a side table, abandoned in favor of books. She barely heard what he said about cataloging as she stepped toward the shelves, her fingers light over the covers, tracing titles, looking for new ones. To her delight, she already saw a few that she didn’t know.

“Everything,” she said, not exaggerating in the slightest. “My favorites shift but…” She plucked a thin, leatherbound burgundy book off the shelf, Italian in origin, old in nature. This one she had heard of, but she hadn’t been able to find a copy that wasn’t damaged or edited in some way. This one looked intact. Her eyes flicked toward him for a moment. “Where did you get this?”

[mariekenworthy]

sebastianofprussia​:

🤝 For my muse to grab your muse’s hand after being startled. @mariekenworthy

Pop!

One moment, he was standing alongside Marie inquiring how her brood of kittens were faring, and the next, what sounded like a gunshot broke through the bandstand music. He visibly startled, the glass of punch in his hand wavered and spilled over the side (missing his entirely white sleeve and trousers). Sebastian froze. Then he realized her hand clutched onto his.

Terror gripped him even after the crowd erupted in cheers as a firework dazzled the night sky. His own hand shifted into a solid grip with hers, squeezing once, and then letting go. Sebastian didn’t look up at the display–instead he caught his breath and looked at Marie with a weak smile. “You were, ah, saying?” he asked, his voice a bit unsteady.

Marie was about to explain how she had managed to give away two kittens to Lucy, therefore making her house 2/5ths less chaotic, when a loud bang and sizzling sound made her jump. Her hand darted out and found Sebastian’s as she looked up as the star-like glow that was fading in the night sky. Right. Fireworks.

Around them people laughed and clapped, and she took in a quick breath at her own silliness. Fireworks were somewhat common at the larger parties in London, like this one, but she still wasn’t used to them. She glanced over at Sebastian, taking in his expression and the way he seemed unnaturally still.

As he dropped her hand, she pulled it back to her side, looking from him to the sky. “I can’t remember,” she said, the conversation having been dashed by the noise, “But it’s getting a bit…cramped around here.” The firework was possibly a precursor to more, seeing how people were beginning to gather, as if they couldn’t see the fireworks from elsewhere in the gardens. “Would you mind walking with me? I think the icehouse isn’t too far, and my sweet tooth is acting up.”

[theseasonhq]

Welcome to Meme Friday at The Season! 🌸 Each Friday (usually), we’ll post one or two memes for characters to reblog on their accounts. Reblogging the meme indicates that you are accepting asks from it, and that you’re also sending asks out to others. Enjoy!

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Send a time of day for a headcanon!

3am: for a hopes & fears headcanon 6am: for a habits/routines headcanon 9am: for a physical headcanon noon: for a hobbies/talents headcanon 3pm: for a childhood headcanon 6pm: for a social/interaction-based headcanon 9pm: for a nighttime headcanon midnight: for a romantic headcanon