EXT - Victoriana Hill to INT - Seiiki Okiya
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Llyw was too restless and aggravated by all the noise and ruckus and the lingering stench in the house to stay indoors. She pulled on her remaining widow's garb and gathered her last surviving hat and cane, got her hair wrangled into a long braid, before she sought to at least get far enough from the house to survey the repair progress from the front. She wasn't sure what else to do after that, feeling strangely aimless for once. Further research lay in her allies' hands and all she could do was wait for the key puzzle pieces of her fate to fall into her hands. And so Llyw was outside her gate for once, staring at her house silent and brooding under the veil of her hat. Hiromi was in the yard directing the workmen so the widow was left momentarily alone in the fog nearby.
Dorian (Alexandros Lycomedes) had just come from riding Irene, handed her off to be stabled, when he saw from afar the widow standing and looking at her house from the outside. Hastily tossing his gloves and riding jacket onto the porch, he'd jog away from his home still in boots and spurs, hoping to catch a moment of her time. As he jogged he called, "Lady Llyw!"
Oz was bored. It was one thing to pose in a position of authority. It was quite another to actually do the work. He evaded piles of paperwork and meetings, tossed his tie and jacket in a rumpled pile on an empty presidential leather chair, and took off to go strolling through town. After all.. what use was it to be the one in charge if you couldn't dump everything on an office full of underlings? They were well paid for their suffering, so he could happily remain deaf and blind to their tearful wails as he slipped away. It wasn't his purpose here anyway. That golden gaze raked over passerby, as though gaging the value of their flesh before he settled on a familiar figure and a familiar house. "If it isn't the charming Viscountess... and friend?" His eyes narrowed a little at the other body approaching, but he still smiled brightly.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Llyw was pulled out of her thoughts by the younger Windgrace calling out. She lifted her hat enough to reveal the softness of her smile for the man galloping up in his riding trews.
The Covenant ensured she looked merely nothing more than a slim reserved widow out in the open, her hand lifting dark with apparent lace to wave. "Oh Dorian!" She said, chancing to speak almost to a normal level, "It's good to see you."
After the attack she had launched outside her house many ghosts had naturally fled the area and had yet to lurk close again thankfully, able now to speak with less caution. Llyw was feeling almost lively in consequence actually, a hint of rare energy animating the usually exhausted seer.
Hearing a less familar voice call out to her, one that sent a fast prickle down her spine, turned the Lady's wide brimmed hat behind her. The veil served as a shield for her delicate features but she lifted her chin enough to meet the man's eyes and offer a slightly hesitant smile.
"Mr. Royal, how are you today?" She replied more formally, a light veneer of her English accent coasting over her New Orleanian intonations, "I think we would need to talk about such things, if that is what you seek."
She was being friendly enough but cautious with this imposing gentleman. He might however catch the hint of a flush on the widow's cheeks before her hat dipped down just enough.
Shouts rang from the house, a few burly workers wrestling with the repairs to the flooring and outer wall. Llyw's house was a sad sight currently, half gutted with piles of ash in the yard all that remained of her couches. Hiromi nodded crisp to her employers and gave Oz a polite assessing nod, but otherwise the bodyguard was still stuck in overseer mode in the yard.
Dorian (Alexandros Lycomedes) looked up at her house and then wrinkled his nose at the smell, but he didn't see fit to comment on it in his urbane British purl. "Blimey, Llyw. If a thing can happen..." He left off there as they had further company. He'd look over and up at the fair haired man with a ventured smile in his direction. Grey eyes would scan the man over and nod his golden head that direction. "Good day to you sir," accompanied a small feint of a bow, a remnant of an antiquated gesture. "I do not believe we have had the pleasure, Dorian Windgrace." He'd step beside the widow and stretch out his warm hand to offer a handshake.
Ultimately he'd look between the pair of them as if expecting someone else to move the introductions forward.
Oz approached the two steadily, his smile never wavering. "Oz Royal. Delighted, Mr. Windgrace. I am only newly acquainted with the Lady, having only recently returned from the mainland." At his stature, there was no means of coming without everyone being aware. His pale lashes and skin made him stand out in a crowd. If he were a person of less importance or size, maybe he'd be labeled an unwanted oddity and therefore a target for harassment and rejection. As it was, he was a man of connections and also large enough to impose his will even if he wasn't. "Tolerable, Lady Llywellynn, very tolerable." he replied lazily, his tone somehow always seductive, even when speaking normally. "Talk about what such things? How charming you are or your friend, Mr. Windgrace?" He smirked, knowing she may have misinterpreted his words. Her flushed face was deeply satisfying, making him hunger for other reactions. Glancing to the chaos of the work being done, he tilted his head. "Are the repairs going as planned? Should I offer my own work crew to assist?" He grinned. His last offer had been rejected, but he was nothing if not persistant.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Llyw had too much on her mind to give proper introductions as she ought per her station, lending more color to her face at the oversight. Such social concerns were low on her list of priorities, but one was her friend and the other apparently having some sort of interest if his prior idle comments were to be believed. Every word out of Royal's mouth always seemed to imply far more than what was spoken. Based on what he had said and more importantly had done when he first introduced himself to her had made it difficult to interpret his commentary in any other way. Llyw truly had no idea how to react to him as he drew near and towered over the two by default. She was quite thankful for her hat today, the veil obscuring her expressions just enough to hide her treacherous complexion.
"Ah yes, Dorian welcomed me most kindly when I first arrived on the isle some time ago and we've become good friends I dare say." Llyw offered context to the introductions first to Oz and then to Dorian, falling back to her softly spoken habits, "Mr. Royal introduced himself to me just the other day and has offered his assistance most gallantly." Her tone couldn't quite hide the fact there was so much she had glossed over concerning both gentlemen, but such insight she was certainly not going to share here and now.
She sighed gesturing at her house in any case, trying to ignore the suggestiveness Oz seemed to exude, "I appreciate the offer but not to worry. The repairs should be done in a few days with no delays evident so far. I suppose what happened couldn't have been staved off forever...but it's over now at least." She directed a slight grim smile towards Dorian then, knowing he would likely have a clue who she was referring to.
"I needed to just...get out of the house for awhile meanwhile, you see." She added, feeling the need to explain why she was just standing out in the foggy lane. It was too smelly and noisey to stay in there obviously. So she looked to the two men, unwilling to waste time dawdling with fate breathing down her back, craning her neck abit to look at Oz first then to Dorian, "Any recommendations for somewhere more pleasant to spend some time?"
Dorian (Alexandros Lycomedes) gestured to the house with the previously offered hand and shook his head, then commuted that action to a wave at Hiromi. To Llywellynn, he'd coo, "That is rather a poor state of affairs, do let us know if we can offer you a quiet place to find respite, just up the hill, hm? As to the other matter..."
He looked to the comparative stranger as if sizing him up and then suggested, "It's late enough in the day for a drink, is it not Mr. Royal?" Of course, Dorian started his mornings with ale, so drinking time was likely just a droll notion to the man. "There's the public house, though I cannot be sure what they are serving at this juncture. I have heard it said that one of the teahouses has a supplier with an on island still." As if overcome by the temptation he'd close one eye and swivel the other between the pair of them as if trying to gauge their interest. The tall gentleman was certainly made of noteworthy colouring and stature, but with no context he couldn't be sure of what the man would make of such a suggestion, if he was the workaday type, perhaps.
Oz chuckled at her rejection, but it hardly was the end of his attempts. There would be time enough. He smiled brightly to Dorian. "Late enough for me, though I don't know this city as well as you, perhaps, Mr. Windgrace. Where would one go to partake at this hour? Is there a tavern that is fit for the Lady?" He winked at Llywellynn. "The teahouse? Sounds pleasant enough. Let's go there. I trust you two can lead the way?" Of course, he could play ignorant of the truth, but even he'd heard that the Japanese district's teahouse had a lurid reputation for being essentially a brothel. He was just devious enough to throw the Viscountess under the wheels and feign innocence. Flustered maidens were quite entertaining at any hour.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Dorian got a warm grin from Llyw for his invitation, the man looking quite dashing in his riding attire in her estimation. She was very likely to take him up on his offer quite soon. A neighborly visit to his manse for perhaps a nip of the brandy together sounded like a grand idea, now that the lane was mostly free of the swarming wailing dead for her.
Otherwise any travel was complicated by the dead at every turn for the accursed seer and the fog of course didn't help at all. She was done being afraid to venture out into it however, with her latest success still fresh in her mind. She just had to get out of the house before she lost the rest of her mind.
In mixed company however, a public venue was the option available at presnt. The mention of a local stillery perked up the Lady's interest noticably. "I hadn't heard there was a local source....I am quite curious to contact them." She speculated, likely eager to purchase whatever they were producing before her own supplies ran horribly dry.
Royal's persistence in offering help and yet not agreeing to any continued to be a source of confusion for Llyw. But she just kept behind her veil for now, unwilling to press for clarification from him in her overwhelming need to just escape her house for a few hours. Desperate enough to even contemplate going to the Sakura teahouse which she knew of all too well. She had been kept in the upper room for nearly a week, causing a fresh blush to bloom where the hat hid her memories resurfacing of the cold frustrating man who had saved her then....and all the subsequent drama that had come of it. And the dreams...
Oz got his wish of a flustered Llyw, though she kept enough poise to hide it well enough. Perhaps in the company of Windgrace and Royal to escort Esher, perhaps it might seem more of a tourist visit than anything more lurid, but no doubt tongues would wag regardless of context. Frankly she had more important things to worry about than what society expected of her now.
Llyw was certinatly not going to mention her previous visit there. Sighing slightly, she inclined her hat to Oz's suggestion and gestured to Dorian to lead the way instead if he was so inclined, "The District is a quite interesting place and quite the sight to see, so I hear. I've heard the cherry blossoms are lovely this time of year there. I wonder if the teahouse serves brandy..." By all apperances the Lady seemed willing to venture into the den of inquity unawares for a drink or three with the two gentlemen...
Dorian (Alexandros Lycomedes) didn't seem too worried about the demimonde the teahouses was situated in, and if asked he'd even say he believed the widow's reputation could withstand a visit to such a place in good company. But Dorian wasn't taking her anywhere he hadn't gone with his sister. Delilah had visited one such place with him before and they'd gotten into their cups and enjoyed the scenery together. In fact the place he was thinking of had a girl on staff named Hana that he was well acquainted with. He'd request her to pour for him and keep him company, pay very well for nothing much more than that amount of her attention. It helped to keep up appearances in his world.
Dorian announced cheerfully, "To the Seiiki we go. I shall claim the first dance Mr. Royal, perhaps the lady will allow you to walk her home if I make a poor showing. It is a pleasant walk, and ever a shorter one than I imagine." He was offering Llyw his arm to escort her there, though there was nothing to stop her from choosing to walk with the other gentleman instead should he offer. She would be well within her rights to choose Oz too, given he hadn't de-horsed himself yet. At least they were out in the not so fresh foggy air and would soon be on the move for some simulacrum of a breeze.
Oz continued to put on a kind face, walking along with both of them in a jovial demeanor. The lady's blushes were quite delicious. He could enjoy the view of her burning pink neck from his excellent vantage. "There's dancing involved? I shall relinquish the honor to you, Mr. Windgrace. I'm not sure a tree-like figure such as mine would dance with any grace, even without the lady's indulgence." Though even as he said that, he moved quite well. Almost like he was liquid. When the teahouse came into view, he grinned. "My... What a charming venue..." he reflected, observing the ornately garbed courtesans that beckoned at him through the wooden bars. Male.. female.. it hardly mattered when it came to beauty.
The Teahouse had only just opened their doors for the evening, posing their most alluring men and women at the entrance to lure in patrons with batting lashes and teasing smiles. Music came from within and the sound of soft laughter. The scent of bakery treats and wine flooded the senses... but Oz remained quite calm. One might reflect he had impressive resolve.. though it was closer to the truth to say he was cold-blooded. "Let us go in. My cultural education is sadly lacking and I've never had Japanese liquor before." He glanced to Llywellynn and smiled a bit more teasingly. "I shall depend on your good judgment on what to drink here, my dear Viscountess." Did he suspect she was a regular here? What an adventurous image that would be of the proper Lady Llywellynn.
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Llyw gave Hiromi a nod, the woman keeping an eye on them all per her mandate. The bodyguard bowed politely as was her way, picking up on the fact the Lady was to be accompanied by Lord Windgrace, while she stayed to watch the house and workmen.
Dorian's arm was accepted without question, the aroma of a morning ride no deterrant for a woman who was subjected to the land of the dead at all times. If anything he smelled alive and that went far in Llyw's books. Oz had yet to prevail upon the Lady's sensibilities enough for her to think to reach for him in any context, but perhaps that was only a matter of time and sufficient charm. The not-so merry widow had many whims to indulge despite how she might present herself to the world. She noticed how the man moved so gracefully despite his size, the hint of color persisting in his presence much to her consternation.
The walk took longer than Llyw anticipated, but as long as she had her current escorts no true threat emerged from the fog to find her on the way.
This was a source of great relief, the weather serving to obscure her Sight even across the veil, hence the need for her cane to test the ground in her path for the broken bones and various crawling things she was likely to encounter no one else could see.
She had to take great pains not to appear a crazy woman any time she had to cross any distance in public. Her affectation of looking blind had served as a cover, but her heavy eyewear had been lost in the fog attack somewhere and despite its distinctive look no one had yet to chance upon it to return to her. The hat would have to serve to shield her eyes from the invisible sun. She wasn't bold enough to take Dorian's hand to see it right now, the fog hiding everything in thick grey anyway.
The establishment was reached, petals on the breeze in artful swirls, cherry scent mingling with the ambiance of the district and the teahouse staff presenting their beauty. Llywellynn herself of course brought her own exceedingly sweet scent with her, something even non predators would notice. Her hand on Dorian's forearm was even more feverishly hot than he might recall. Some of the heat in her cheeks were from that relentless fire.
But some flush bloomed brighter at the notion of dancing, being invited to by her handsome friend while the more intimidating gentleman demurred. She hadn't ever had the opportunity other than a few lessons in her youth. She hadn't ever been in the business part of the teahouse so this was a new experience for her as well, taking in the sights very much like a wondering tourist.
"Oh...I...I haven't danced in ages...I'm afraid I would disappoint.." She murmured to Dorian, hiding the redness of her face from view. To Oz' teasing she refused to look at him due to this, "I.. am not sure what is to your taste, good sir....I prefer top shelf brandy, which given the choice....but I am willing to try something else, if they don't have it in stock...."
She wasn't trying to have any double meaning to her words, though they might be taken that way. She just badly needed a drink to take the edge off her spiralling worries. Present company was an added bonus along with the spectacle of the venue. She likely stood out in her austere widow's garb amongst the colorfully robed staff however.
Dorian (Alexandros Lycomedes) didn't seem to be picking up on anything arch or teasing from Royal, so he didn't intervene when the pair of them bantered. He'd laughed off the bit about dancing, figuring the man would take his meaning when they set off walking in a promenade. Ever the bon vivant, he'd even counter with encouragement, "I am sure you have a dancer in you, somewhere Mr. Royal. I have seen men with less gainly bodies than yours make a fine showing. And you, m'lady are light on your feet, I can tell from walking at your side." Of course she was also just very lightweight to Dorian's mind given her slender frame. He remembered her prodigious heat from previous encounters and was coming to think of it as one of her features.
Dorian was an appreciator of lovely things, and lovely people. Just like any other hot-blooded patron who might like to not have to go through the trouble of pouring his own drinks, or sitting in silence and solitude. An okiya solved those problems with style and grace. And though Victoriana type people might look somewhat out of place strolling in together in a bunch, Dorian was pretty sure his money spent well and easily on this side of the island as well. As they crossed the threshold, he'd disengage from the widow to lean on the doorframe and start shucking off his boots. They weren't ideal footwear for such a place, and he had enough respect for the culture in his limited knowledge to know locals didn't go carrying their dirty feet inside such a place. Once he was barefoot, he'd pad along to the table and only after Llyw was situated would he take a seat, folding his legs beneath him gamely.
Since moving to the Island he'd taken up trying to learn a conversational amount of Japanese, and was still very much in the beginnings of such learning, but he'd try to use the language, "Gomen nasai, <but can we have some of that chestnut shochu I have heard about?>" He'd punctuate with a wink that was so obvious anyone could see it. Even from outside perhaps. From what he'd heard the stuff had been sourced locally and was available, but one had to know what to ask for.
Oz If the Lady used her Sight, she would observe an oddity. There would be a marked scarcity of supernatural spirits within twenty feet of them. If any spectating ghosts were in view, they were well outside of that range and even moved to avoid being in the perimeter of the handsome albino. Oz gave no indication of seeing any of them, nor was he actively minding Llywellyn's motions with her cane. He just walked cheerfully to the teahouse with them and beamed until they went inside ahead of him to sit. The bright gold eyes were far too occupied in enjoying the crimson spread on Llywellynn's pale flesh. "I'm not picky when it comes to drinking, Lady Llywellynn. I'm sure whatever you order for me will be worthy of praise." His eyes fixed on hers as though they were sharing some intimate connection. "I trust you..." he murmured alluringly. The courtesans nearby giggled and observed his charm. He could make a lot of money if he came to work at the Teahouse. Such a shame he was upper class. Wasted talent.
He laughed at Dorian's teasing. "Perhaps, but it's buried so deeply, it may never surface. I would much rather watch elegant people such as yourselves dance." His words had a double meaning, but it was spoken so casually, it was easy to overlook. "What I consider of more importance is why the lovely Viscountess chooses to dress in black? Wouldn't you enjoy some more flattering colors, my dear Lady?" He obediently removed his shoes as the courtesans directed and entered the tea room with some difficulty.
Being as tall as he was, these Japanese houses were not designed with giant European men in mind. After waiting for the other two to get comfortable, he then tried to to fold his lengthy limbs in a manner that wasn't in the way of the servers, but.. well.. it was a good effort. Even after folding his massive legs under him, his knees still stuck out awkwardly. As Dorian ordered his drink, he gestured after him. "Three of everything from the food options and I'll have what the lady recommends to drink." It seemed Oz was serious about letting her choose the sake. That was for two reasons. She would not be wary of his selection if he didn't make one and she could choose a less heavy sake to avoid being drunk if she wished. Downside.. not much in Sakura Teahouse's storerooms was really that safe. They relied on inhibited patrons to shower them with funds, and what was a quicker way to open their wallets than to get them plastered and keep them happy?
Lady Llywellynn Devoreaux Esher: Llyw clearly relaxed in Dorian's company, giving more credance to the claim of good friendship between them. She smiled at him easily, putting her trust in him to guide her through town to their destination safely. She of course noticed and was grateful for the avoidance of the dead around them all. The spooks acted this way around Dorian to some notable degree but this time they kept a much greater distance. Honestly she wasn't sure if that was because of her or because of either man. Perhaps something to discover later.
With Oz she was friendly but much more reserved, unsure what to make of the man yet. She listened to the two banter while keeping her attention fixed upon the unseen obstacles in her way. There would be an unexplained tug from time to time on her escort's arm as she had to navigate around something that wasn't there for anyone else.
"I suppose I could try..." Llyw conceeded to the Windgrace exuberance, but she would likely need the fortification of drink before even making an attempt to see just how light on her feet she could be. At the doorway she watched Dorian shuck his boots, belatedly remembered that was the custom in this part of town, and thus finding herself in a dilemma.
As Oz had noted before, the Lady was wearing only one layer of clothing, though the dress material was sturdy enough for modesty, the keenly observant would note none of the usual underlayers expected were there. This included stockings. Her fever just didn't allow for anything but the bare minimum else she would go mad. Llyw would have to be quite barefoot in the teahouse if she wished to be polite, hoping the Covenent would cover her mortification with a convenient illusion. Her delicate feet was dark enough to be mistaken for it anyway.
She bent to ginger remove her shoes as descretely as possible, Royal's insistance on her choosing his liquor flustering her more for no reason she understood. Unfortunately the Lady had no experience actually drinking at this establishment, leaving it to Dorian to make the orders. "Do they have brandy here?" She asked him quietly, while smiling apologetically at the servers, unable to speak their language, before looking to Oz, "That is what I would suggest if that is alright? If you don't mind sweet alcohol. Otherwise Sake I hear is good?" His allluring statement had her unable to find a reply other than a higher flush. Perhaps a drink would loosen her tongue and tension.
She set her toes carefully even here, her cane ever ready against what only she could See as she sought to fold her legs under her properly on the cushions provided. Finally she took off her hat and laid her cane aside, showing her uncanny eyes and pale braid, blond the palest shade streaked with silver and grey despite showing soft features still flush with youth. A marigold was pinned to her hair with a string of pearls in homage of the Djinn who had nicknamed her after the flower. Her face held a fine peachy crimson already, no doubt to become more so with enough liquor to join her fever.
LLyw didn't catch all the double entendre that ensued from the taller man's every sentence but she did get the general drift enough to keep that high color that amused him so. His question teased her for an answer and frankly she had wondered on it herself in recent days. "I'm a widow, good sir....Not yet a year ago, so I must needs wear the black til then." She replied softly, no hint of grief to be heard in her drawl drawing out the words rounder, her english accent finally giving up the ghost to her true Cajun French roots.
Honeysuckle woodfire fragrance filled the air around her, adding to the incense and smells of food and drink and flirtation ongoing in the building.
Dorian (Alexandros Lycomedes) learned something new by listening, that Llyw's widowhood was so recent. Her accent had something to it that preserved the better parts of Frenchiness without sounding too continental, at least to the Englishman. He'd clarify in Japanese whether or not brandy was available (it wasn't), and then get them a gourd of sake. His pronunciation was way off, but he stumbled his way through, scruffling his yellow hair at the back of his head while he did. When he finished ordering he'd pat his chest, realizing he'd left his jacket with his smokes in it on the porch. Booze would have to go without its best friend. Turning his attention back to his company rather than the servers he'd intone to both of them, "It seems like this fog has been here for a year already, does it not?"
|| A young man in Japanese garb came and found Dorian, begging him come along because of business at home. As soon as he told the man he'd be right along he'd turn to his company and suggest, "Enjoy the vintages, I look forward to seeing you soon Lady Llyw, Mr. Royal, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Standing he'd make his way to the door and his shoes and after pulling the whole gear on again start at a jog beside his man who'd explain what needed him as they tirelessly jogged home.
Oz watched her removing her shoes with an amused expression, but he didn't embarass her, shifting his attention to the menu of options offered to them. The courtesans confirmed there was all varieties of liquor. Since she was as ignorant as he pretended to be, he asked the server, "Sakura Sake is sweet? Excellent. Let's get that and some of your good brandy." He paid for everything, as expected of an icon of wealth. Now he could enjopy her blushes at leisure. While admiring her crimson coloring, his was more icey, with blue veins faintly under the skin. Albino's enjoyed unnatural palor usually, but his coloring was more golden leaning. Unusual and rare in ones without pigment. That and his eyes weren't the usual red. "A widow? A year is far too long to be draped in black, in my opinion. Besides.. are we expected to wear black for people we hate?" The sake arrived and he smiled, pouring for both of them and even a taste for Dorian if he wished to sample it. The honeysuckle scent was pleasant around the fair Lady, overpowering his own scent. Oz smelled like stormy breezes and rainwater, but it was such a vague scent, it hardly was noticible. His accent was heavily English, but it felt a little too precise, as though he learned it strictly. No slack dialects in the Royal Family... For him, the variations of their speech were charming and he enjoyed listening to it. At the same time... his smile felt a bit cold. "I haven't been on the island long. Is the fog unusual?" The snacks brought in were various sweet rice balls, green tea flavored cakes and candies made with nuts, hawthorns and berries. Traditional treats only usually made for entertaining or festivals. However, before they were able to try any, Dorien made his farewells and departed, leaving the pair alone. "It was nice meeting you, Sir." he bid him farewell and then grinned to the Lady. "And then there were two..."
"Oh gods, the fog..." Llyw sighed, grimacing to Dorian, remembering with a wince what it had done to her, "It does seem like forever, doesn't it? Terrible weather...all coming from the sea..and what lurks there."
She was reluctant to speak the truth in public, only hinting at the miasmic danger from the ocean. She didn't want to think about all the looming threats right now however. A drink might help ease her pains enough she could have a moment or two of peace, she hoped. Regardless of the fact that more newly introduced man in the group somehow managed to jangle her nerves every time she looked at him.
In a way that was completely different from the eerie effect she witnessed from Dorian and his true nature on display to her eyes at all times, the brush of the uncanny always to be felt in his presence no matter how much blithe charm he possessed. She was used to him at least and happy to share his company. Perhaps in time she would be comfortable enough around all his family, if given the chance.
The Englishman mangling the local language was something she had no awareness of, not knowing it herself, otherwise she considered him a quite capable individual whatever he put his mind to.
Her smile to the Windgrace was almost bright, lifting the sense of doom that clung to her briefly, like the sun peeking out of clouds.
The self confessed widow couldn't help but notice just how large the other man was, his effort to fold himself down as much as possible to fit on the one sitting spot provided on the floor, leaving his knees high to illustrate how long his legs were. She hadn't ever had the problem of dunking under low doorframes or fitting into seats so she found herself staring overlong until she looked away, showing the line of her neck again inadvertant.
This the exact moment when Dorian chose to leave her alone in the company of the scoundrel, dashing off on urgent family business as he tended to do. She sighed watching him go with a small wave, promising slightly louder than was her habit to be heard over the crowd, "I'll come by later.."