located in the garden games area, late afternoon, after matilda has sent an impressively horrible pall mall shot into a crowd of party attendees & fated for prince darius hanover , @hopeflickering .
“ oh — devil, ” one panicked scottishwoman amongst a sea of demure members of the ton, following the path that a black pall mall ball had arced in — far from its intended target in the game's fourth arch. matilda nearly hoped to be struck down where she stood. “ my deepest apologies, ” she drags her eyes up from the ball once she has snatched it from the grass, uprooting a few green blades along with it. they poke between her fingers where she holds the former projectile behind her back, as if hiding it from view will erase it from the affected party's memory. “ please — forgive me, my lord. or forgive lord alderidge, who taught me to play so fantastically poorly just a mere hour ago. ” offering a belated bow, half - remembered entirely too late. matilda has thrown bernard to the wolves — but is that not what elder siblings are for? after a second, she feels guilty: “ it is lord alderidge who did the teaching, but it is i alone who brought the lack of talent to the equation. ”