@vaillxncourt
Arriving on time for his appointment, Armaud stepped out of the carriage and in front of the école pour filles, a certain resignation put upon him. He was ostensibly here to check up on his investment as one of the patrons of the school, but it was not the entirety of his goal. Céleste was a remarkably interesting person, with ties to the trade industry and to certain civilian affairs that were important to Armaud, but it was sometimes an uphill struggle to converse with the strong-willed, sometimes reactionary woman.
The school was an oddity catering to girls of all backgrounds, funded by curious royals and eccentric tradesmen who wanted to dabble in women’s education. Armaud equally found himself among this number, and was interested to see the results of this experiment, though he doubted the school would last much more than Céleste’s lifetime. Women’s education was just entirely too new, too much of a general luxury to be of use to the current working class that might otherwise be getting an income if they sent their children to work.
The school was filled with the young, sweet voices of girls, lifting together into a song that was clear as a bell. He followed the innocent sound to a classroom, whereupon he saw their little choir being conducted by no other than Céleste herself. Quietly he entered and closed the door behind him, the girls looking at him with some apprehension but continued their music.
He stood there with his hands folded behind him and a smile on his face, enjoying what he heard until the song finally came to an end. Armaud grinned broadly and clapped in encouragement.
“Wonderful, my dears!” Armaud exclaimed. “Your song was lovely–perhaps yet one of you will be the next Hildegard von Bingen–you all show such promise!” He turned his gaze toward Céleste with a nod. “Unfortunately, I must borrow your dear teacher for a moment–Madame Vaillancourt, I believe our appointment is now?”