location & setting: parisian woodland
closed to @shahmehdi
tricks of etiquette came as natural as a second skin to the infanta, deemed masterly in her ability to pin a gaze upon another and gauge, simply by the costliness of the furs bundled around their throat, or the number of ladies tending to their veils like shepherdesses to a flock, what title one should bestow unto them, how deep it was customary to bow, how long to avert her leer afore it became apt to speak. shah mehdi of persia, however, was an anomaly of the greatest proportions, the ruler of an empire so vast, blooming with such wealth, prosperity, opulent silks to rival that of kings, and gilded coins that were said to echo in the night in lieu of cicadas, that it manifested in the conjuring of carolina’s mind as being simply that: mythical. yet in a courtyard of hundreds, the shah stood as the most fascinating individual –– and as if aware of her thousand-yard stare prickling upon his bronzed skin, the shah and his retinue turned volte-face in her direction as a warmth rose to carolina’s cheek to combat the blustery winds.
the sun had defrosted fresh snow –– rendering the grounds bare, deadened, and speckled with thatches of recalcitrant green that survived even the harshest of frost, glinting beneath a blanket of twinkling dew. in spite of the receding cold, children had found a way to make merry; flying ribbons from their fingertips, as vibrant as a kingfisher soaring through the clear and cloudless skies, tossing coins minted with king ferrant’s now holy likeness into the heaven’s azure vault, splashed into fountains that had, just days previously, spurted streams of mulled wine in the stead of river-water. omnipotent laughter and cheers warmed the chill, breaking what frost lay in sheets across the paved roads, winding through what might have been, in the thick of summer, a lush and verdant courtyard. cautious to mind her step, carolina lowered into a reverential curtsy before the shah, clutching to the pelage that warmed her neck.
“ your imperial majesty. you must be as unaccustomed as i to the frigid midwinter –– tell me, are the grounds of the ali qapu palace blessed with snowfall? ”
