Isabella and Octavien
 

((OOC: I warn you up front. VERY long post, and horribly mushy. Like almost nauseatingly so. :shrug: but it is what it is. ))

Isabella’s eyes shifted from the box that sat before her on the rug and now rested upon Octavien’s nearing form. She was helpless to stop the smile that had taken control of her lips. It was a small one that when paired with the glisten in her eye could have communicated a wide range of emotions.

She simply sat in silent anticipation while he took his place next to her and reached for the box. She hoped he would enjoy the gift as much as she did acquiring it. As he opened the box his brows dipped in curiosity, and as she watched his expression change from that of unknowing to that of a genuine smile, she felt as if at this one second in time, all was just as it should be. At that very moment they had no masks to hide behind, no part to play, and no onlookers to satisfy. At that instant it was only he and her in the world, and all was just as it should be.

His smile soon broke through to a laugh which invoked a wide smile of her own. “Had I not known better, I would say you were having a laugh at my expense.” Isabella’s head tilted slightly as she saw his wide grin dissipate to a smaller sad smile. She recalled their moment in front of her new harpsichord that he had mentioned in passing the comedies that Jean-Baptiste Lully had composed for. Laughter had been one of the gifts Octavien had brought into her life, and she had hoped that though they each had participated in their own forced marriages of sort, they would continue to find the joy of laughter together.

She continued to contently watch him as he flipped through the pages of parchment. She could see a part of the melody play in his mind, when suddenly it seemed to abruptly stop. He had reached the end of the piece, finding the more profound part of her gift. Blank sheet music. As he looked to her with a confused look upon his face, she wanted to say that even though things are as they are, there was still new music to be made. Music that she wished he would compose, beautifully, haunting melodies that would speak of the passion that they shared.

But before she could utter a single syllable he had already understood every thought that her eyes had exposed. His lips returned to a smile as he reached out and gently caressed her face. "Thank you", had been his soft reply. Just as the warmth of the fireplace penetrated through the many layers of fabric of her dress, the warmth of his eyes penetrated the many layers of her very being. It was with her inner self fully exposed that she melted into his arms.

Soon the sheet music had been set aside, and their appetite for each other rivaled the heat of the fire place. Suddenly there was a brisk knock at the door which had seemed to be more of a warning shot than a request to answer. Octavien slowly pulled his lips from her own not bothering to look at who it was that had entered the room. Isabella was a bit shocked, as her instincts yelled at her to stand and put some distance between them. Yet Octavien did not seem bothered that they may have been caught in a most compromising situation. Sure, they both were still fully dressed, however their clothes were most obviously readied to be shed. As Octavien slowly pulled away from her, he captured her eyes once again. With no words he communicated expertly to her that she was safe, as he would never allow anything to happen to her while in his presence.

Isabella’s brows furrowed deeply, it was as if he was asking her to trust him. To trust him with her title, with her crown, with her reputation, and with their secret. She knew if he was not startled, then she should not be as well.

As he backed away from her slowly her eyes darted up to the man who now stood in the center of the room. His gaze was fixed straight ahead of him, not seeming even a tad bit interested as to the identity of the woman in his Lord’s company. The man was obviously aged, yet dignified. He had a distinct air about him and Isabella vaguely recalled his presence in the room when she and Octavien had entered together earlier. It finally all made sense to her. The servant she had planted was nowhere to be found, yet this man who Octavien was obviously very comfortable with now stood in their presence. A smile came upon her face. He already had his inside link, his confidant. He had no need of hers.

As the man reported to Octavien about whatever it was he was sent to do Isabella gathered the sheet music and returned to her feet. She glanced in Octavien’s direction seeing the older man nod his head and turn to leave the room. Octavien stood motionless, as if he were contemplating something. Isabella walked over to the obviously loved harpsichord and placed the parchment upon the stand, ready to be played when Octavien had the time.

She turned and rested her eyes upon him. Having left her shoes on the rug they had sat on, she quietly made her way to him, her dress trailing on the floor more so than normal due to her lack of height. She came before him, requesting his attention with her presence. She looked upon him with concern, wondering if his servant had brought news that displeased him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body to rest fully against his. “Now, where were we?” he asked.

Isabella pushed herself onto the tip of her toes to give him a quick kiss before pulling away. She held out her arm much as a dancer would, with the elbow slightly bent, her fingers poised pointing in the direction of the fireplace. “Well, I do believe we were over there.” She returned to look at his face, a smirk had taken its place upon his lips. She was pleased to see that Octavien seemed to at least be enjoying her antics. “But then,” she continued, now gracefully holding her arm out towards the harpsichord, “I was over there.” She shot him another glance, wondering how much more of this he would put up with. She walked towards his bed, pulling the ends of the cord that held the drapery to his bedposts as she continued talking. “I do believe... well perhaps... we could be over here.”

As those words left her lips, she saw his face light up once again. Having to practically chase her around the room with his eyes had in fact chased whatever news he had been given from his mind. As his own face radiated a playful predator Isabella could no longer withhold her joyful laugh. As he steadily made his way towards her, she continued to challenge him with her eyes.

=== ((OOC: We all know what happens. No need for details. lol )) ===

As she lay in Octavien’s arms, Isabella quietly took in the celestial aura of the moment. The light shed by the flames of candles in the room danced upon the fabric that hung from the bed posts, creating shadows on the quilt that covered their bare bodies beneath. Her leg lay entwined with his, her head rested upon his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. As she listened she noticed their hearts and breath had synchronized, each slowly working their way to a relaxed state.

As their bodies lay peacefully Isabella delicately ran her fingers down the center of his chest, sliding her palm across his abdomen and around to his side, giving him a slight squeeze. She lifted her head, placed a gentle kiss on his chest, and looked upon his face. Feeling her stir in his arms, he opened his eyes briefly and smiled upon her. Isabella cherished that smile. She wished she could capture it to keep with her for all time. She soon propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes tracing the features of his face. Many thoughts ran about in her head as she did. Some of them quite new to her, even catching her by surprise. Her face held a new expression, one she could not describe. It wasn’t quite inquisitiveness, yet it was just shy of contentment. It was as if she had discovered something new for the very first time, and struggled to label it appropriately.

“What is it?” Octavien asked in a whisper noticing the look on her face.

Isabella slightly shook her head, her brows dipped as she was trying to figure it out. “I’m not sure.” A small smile came upon her lips. “I think it’s you.”

It was a reply so open and genuine that Octavien could not keep a surprised chuckle from pushing softly past his lips. A chuckle that left it no secret that those were words that meant a lot to him, words that went straight to his heart. And, as would be the case with any young man, to his head.

Immediately an answer that would fit nicely into their usual lighthearted banter started making it's way to the tip of his tongue, but at the last moment, he changed his mind. If she was indeed allowing herself to open up and be just a little bit vulnerable, he would not make light of her words.

"Good", he simply said, and gently seized her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the palm that no more than a minute ago had traveled so affectionately and almost possessively across his bare chest.

Isabella lowered herself, returning to his full embrace. As she rested her head upon his shoulder, she felt him wrap his arms around her completely, which only encouraged her to snuggle closer to him. “You know, even though I do not participate in the rumor mill that constantly churns in the Palace, I do make it my responsibility to be informed on what is being said. This afternoon, I was being advised as to the newest tales, and I heard something about you.” Isabella’s voice was light, almost of a teasing nature, waiting for him to urge her to continue.

It took a few moments longer than she had anticipated. As she had snuggled up to him, his eyes had drifted shut once again as he tried to savor the sensation of her body wrapped tightly in his arms. The sound of her voice as she spoke had at first brought a faint smile to his lips, but when mentioning him, his eyes fluttered open, and he stiffened. Until he registered her tone of voice. There was no trace of worry or aversion in it. Again, he relaxed.

"Do tell", he requested.

With his fears laid to rest, his curiosity was piqued. People did tend to take an interest in what things were being said about them. Courtiers especially.

“Naturally everyone is trying to figure out why there was a sudden switch of grooms. Apparently the morning of the wedding Silvius was seen leaving from the room of a Baroness. Many suspect that his being unfaithful on the eve of his own vows was the reason Adalita selected a new groom. However, they are struggling to figure out just exactly how you got the part. They never seem to get even remotely close to a solution to the puzzle, as it seems the mention of your name causes quite a few of the servant girls to erupt into giggles.” The end of the last sentence from her lips had her voice rising, as if she were actually asking a question. A question as to if he was aware of the fact that girls giggle about him.

Isabella did not allow him time to answer any implied question before she once again raised her body, wishing to look into his eyes. What Isabella really wished to know was if he knew what affect he had on those around him, what affect he had on her. She stared into his eyes, searching them for the answer to her question which was quickly being crowded out by others.

What if the circumstances had been different? If she had been just a lowly girl with no title at all, would he have even noticed her? What was it about her that attracted him? Was it the thrill of the chase of her crown? Were his desires truly fueled by the opportunity to boast about having something that belonged to another man? With the few times they had been together, Isabella held no doubt to the fact that a woman’s body was familiar territory to him as he proved to be a skilled lover. Was it practice that made him so adept? Or was it truly their chemistry? The fact that their bodies seemed to have been carved for one other, a perfect fit, could not be denied.

Then in an instant all the questions that had crowded her mind fled, only to be replaced by one solitary new one. Why did all these things haunt her heart so? She had come to realize that Octavien was most certainly not only another man to add to her list, he was different. He had changed her.

As it appeared Octavien was about to break the silence with a question of his own, Isabella gently placed her index finger on his lips, hushing any thoughts that were to come from them. As she moved her hand, burying her fingers in his blonde hair, she repositioned her body atop his, keeping her eyes fixed upon his. The fact that there was only an couple hours before she would have to leave the warmth of his arms and retreat to her own cold bed ticked down like a time bomb in her mind. She would not allow her questions and doubt to torment her any longer, robbing her of the precious time she had with the man she so longed for. As she felt her hair slide from her bare back cascading to her side and intermingling with his own blonde locks, she eliminated the few inches that had kept her lips from his. She may question the true nature of his desire for her, but for now she would simply be happy with the fact that he did indeed desire her.

((OOC: Oh my goodness... that's a record length even for me!))

Morning Announcements
 

*edit from above*
((OOC: That's okay, I wrote it more for the joy of just writing anyhow.))


King Edouard waited in the hall once more for the two women of his life, Queen Isabella and Princess Adalita. However this day he did not wait alone, he now had the newly crowned Prince Octavien to keep him company and make small talk with as they each waited for their wives. After the women had joined them, they walked together down to the Grand Hall for the first morning announcement of the New Year. King Edouard entered the room escorting his wife, and just behind them Prince Octavien entered escorting his.

“The King speaks,” Edouard began with his assertive tone. This was not to be a pleasant day for him, but he had promised once again. If he could not trust his Queen, who could he trust? “This morn we celebrate a new year, and often such celebrations are centered on change.” Though he spoke of celebration there was not a hint of joyousness to be found in his voice, on his face, or in his stature anywhere. “Every person present knows that I continue to search for a person who can fill the shoes of the late Duc of Mollier as my personal advisor. I do hope that the perfect person for the position will be found soon, and we may make 1677 a most prosperous year.”

Edouard waited while a few of the courtiers applauded his little speech. Not waiting for the claps to desist entirely he continued. “Our beloved Queen has brought a matter to my attention of which I fear I must deal with swiftly.” His words had brought silence over the crowd. “As of this day, Duchesse Marie Clothilde di Bourbon-Parma is no longer a part of this court.” Edouard continued speaking with no change of volume in his voice despite the whispers that had come from the crowd. “We are now that much closer to appointing a new advisor.”

Edouard looked towards Isabella offering her his arm. “That is all”, were his last words to the court. The King and Queen walked side by side down the center of court with the Prince and Princess behind them.

((OOC: Even though Octavien appears with the King during morning announcements he has no say in his decisions. Octavien’s only there to appear beside his new wife.

Sorry kipsnif, but Duchesse Marie threatened Isabella. She had to request banishment. If you wish to, feel free to do a leaving RP. ))

Isabella
 

Once again the sun peaked over the horizon, filling the skies with wondrous shades of pink and yellow. Isabella stood in front of her favorite window watching the sky morph like that of a butterfly. Her thoughts lingered in the night that she had spent in the arms of the Prince. Last night had been far different than any other she had known.

For one, she had been in uncharted territory. Other than the few times King Edouard had sent for her when they were newlyweds she had not been in the bed of a man. All her previous indiscretions had been in her own room, on her turf, and on her terms.

Which only naturally led to the second item. She was the person that had to leave in the wee hours of the morning and risk being seen returning to their own room. Octavien’s trusted servant, whom she learned had the name of Giles had done an excellent job of making sure the top floor was indeed void of any possible eyes, escorting her safely to her own room.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the gentle voice of Margret. “My lady, if you are not to be late, I must begin on your hair.” Isabella turned and smiled upon her trusted friend. “Yes, I’m sorry.” She replied quietly while making her way to her vanity.

As Margret began brushing out Isabella’s long hair and rolling it up in the appropriate fashion, she listened quietly as Isabella spoke. “Do you recall, quite long ago now, you had made a comment as to why Lahance’s presence affected me so?”

“Yes, my lady, if you are referring to my comment about sharing.” Margret managed to say despite the pins that she held between her lips.

“Yes, that is it.” Isabella paused, as if she uttered the words that sat on the edge of her tongue her fate would be sealed. “I know now what you meant by that.” Her eyes looked upon Margret’s reflection in the mirror. “I believe I did so last night.”

Margret’s smile peeked through her casual expression. “And?”

“It was the most freeing thing ever, to share my heart. However at the same time it’s terrifying. I am not used to being vulnerable, I quite enjoy having control you know.” Margret’s head nodded as she did not need to be reminded of that. “Yet in that vulnerability,” Isabella continued, “is something so beautiful that words cannot properly describe.”

For the remainder of the hours Isabella sat in silence, allowing her servants to do what they needed. She used the time to prepare herself mentally for the morning that was to come. Today Octavien would be escorting Adalita to the Grand Hall behind Edouard and herself. That alone required her to be in complete control of her entire being. She could not allow her eyes to betray the beautiful thing she had discovered last night. And on top of it all, she was a bit nervous as to what announcement the King would make. Would he grant her request to banish the Duchess, or did he in fact have feelings for the woman?

It wasn’t long till she was leaving the safety of her own suite, and stepping onto the stage of the world. As she neared the hall she saw Edouard and Octavien standing together, much as she thought she would. Octavien prided himself on promptness, even when he had no title at all. How much more so now that he held the title of Prince would he wish to be in the King’s good graces. She gave Octavien a polite smile and a simple greeting of “Prince” before looking upon Edouard and reaching for his arm that he offered.

Previously, having to be so short with Octavien had pained her, now she felt different. She and Octavien both knew that what they shared was far more special, far more intimate than being seen together in the public eye. They were both now actors upon the stage. Each cast in nearly identical roles. The freedom they had in the night made up for the masks they wore during the day.

Adalita had joined them at seemingly the same time and soon they walked, one pair behind the other down to the Grand Hall for the morning announcements.

During the announcements Isabella stood with the royal gentle smile plastered on her face. She listened to his words and took great enjoyment over hearing he had indeed decided to banish Marie. Even though she could not see him standing behind her, she knew this was a victory for Octavien as well. The one person who was bold enough to threaten their relationship had learned the hard way that Isabella was indeed a force to be reckoned with. The most important thing she had to do was looking beautiful? Ha… hardly not.

Soon she was being escorted out of the hall as had been done so many times before. This time however as they made their way through the doors, Edouard did not take his leave of her as usual. He placed his hand atop her own and asked her to join him in his study. Not about to deny his request she agreed and continued by his side as they walked up the steps to the top floor. Isabella knew the sight of them together was good for the kingdom, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it was he wished of her.

((I've read it now, i just didn't read it when it was first posted, wine, history exams and roleplays written in histrocial context do not go together well!

Octavien - going from happy to... not happy
 

(((ooc: Didn't want to double post, so I edited part 1 into this post)))


Wasn't it ironic, how in but one single week, a young man's preference regarding the time of day could complete change? Well, maybe it wasn't as much ironic as if was funny. Octavien had always, for as long as he could remember, favored mornings. He had always welcomed each new day and all the possibilities it brought with it, and would often be up and about before everyone else.
Yet, in just a matter of days, mornings had now become the time of day that he wished would never occur.

The night and evening passed had seen him in one of his most carefree moods in a long time. It was as though Isabella's determination to fully enjoy the time with him, not bothered by the facts and worries of reality, had rubbed off on him, and made his own troubled thoughts seep out of him completely. They had shared a great deal. Not just passion and laughter, but a newfound closeness as well. It seemed that in a way, the now doubled amount of marriages separating them, had made them grow closer to one another. Perhaps the both of them being married to someone else had made the two of them relax? Octavien now looked upon the future, knowing he would always have a reason to be around Isabella. Though as for Isabella, he could only guess. Perhaps her reason was the same as his, perhaps it was something else entirely. Her thoughts moved in clever and cunning ways, and she kept a great deal of them to herself. Of that he had no doubt. So perhaps her reason was something only she could see?
Still, no matter how reserved, she was allowing herself to be more and more open around him. Last night, she had even allowed him to catch a glimpse of the young, insecure woman that hid deep within her. And it only made her so much more dear to him, and him so much more protective of her.
Though he hadn't sure where she'd been going with the comment she'd made about servant girls giggling when his name was mentioned, and he still wasn't. When he'd been about to investigate, to coax some further details from her, she had silenced him before he had uttered a single word, and skillfully wiped his mind clean of any other thoughts than her body ontop of his and her lips tempting him into another few hours of heated passion.

Needless to say, they hadn't gotten much rest, and when came time for her to leave, he had held her back, refused the let her leave his bed. Grinning, he'd kept pulling her back, for 'one last kiss', over and over, until finally with a heavy, reluctant sigh, he really did have to let her go.
Morning.
It no longer meant new possibilities. Only the loss of ones already granted.



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -



With the loss of Isabella's warmth in his bed, Octavien had soon drifted off to sleep. He'd still been feeling the effects of her soothing presence, and thus had had no trouble slumbering for an hour or two, until Gilles woke him up when it was time to prepare for the new day.
But come morning, he had alot on his mind. As he climbed out of bed and once again surrendered the many servants' primping of him, his head filled with thoughts of two women. The intoxicating presence of one, and the blatant idiocy of the other.

The evening before when Octavien and Isabella had still been sitting infront of the fireplace, Gilles had returned from Adalita's suite, to inform his master that she had indeed left to attend the Duc's party. Without him.
Octavien had been far from pleased. They had been married for little more than a day, and were still very much supposed to play the part of happy newlyweds. What happy young bride chose to attend a ball without her new husband by her side? It wasn't as though he would've stopped her from talking to the Duc, so why she felt the need to put him into such a position - where if he showed up for the party, he would only make things look even worse since he'd be arriving after her - he could not fathom. Had she not agreed that they needed to make it all as convincing as possible? In fact, hadn't those been her exact words? She had shown herself to be very understanding of what Octavien had been saying about needing to keep people from gossiping too much. She had agreed.
So why, then, would she risk exactly that, more gossip, by attending the ball on her own? He could not understand her reasoning. All he could do, was hope that she would carry herself well down there, and that his own absence would make people think he'd had more important business to attend to, which kept him from being by her side.

Little did he know, as those thoughts were going through his head, he had yet to learn about the observations Gilles had made, once down in the Grand Hall to keep an eye on things, as requested by Octavien upon finding out Adalita had gone alone. When told about how Adalita had been seen leaving the party on the arm of the Duc - the very host for God's sakes! - Octavien was not only displeased. He was furious. Had they no common sense at all? Did they not realize that the Princess being seen leaving the Grand Hall with the host, who obviously decided to abandon his very own party in her favor, would send tounges wagging more than ever? Did they not realize what was at stake? It wasn't just Adalita's honor, but Octavien's as well. If his wife was seen having an open affair, it would not only tarnish her reputation, it would tarnish Octavien's as well, and make him look like a fool.
So! So much for her promise to be 'discreet'! This was what he could expect when she gave her word; trouble!

But, no matter how angry he was, Octavien would not let it show. Especially not infront of the servants. It was only Gilles who saw his young master's temper flare in his sapphire eyes, and how his jaw tightened as the waves of fury raged through him. And so as soon as they were all done, having dressed the Prince in an ocean blue frock coat and white pants and combed his soft golden locks back to be fastened in the neck with a blue ribbon to match the coat, Gilles ushered all the servants out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Octavien alone to calm down in whatever way he saw fit. But as Octavien had never been a man to simply punch the wall or throw a vase, the room remained in total silence, until finally he emerged from his suite, joining his father-in-law, the King, in the hall to await the arrival of the Queen, and Octavien's 'beloved' wife.

Not once, during the entire procedure of the morning announcement, did he hint towards being angry. Much like Isabella, he kept a vague, serene smile fixed upon his lips. In fact, he would say it was she who instigated it in him. The mere sight of her made his boiling blood cool to a mere simmer, and even though he rarely let his eyes rest on her, other than the couple of seconds when the King mentioned her, he found that once again, her presence effected him. It not only gave him something else to think about, it also strengthened the mask he so needed. Now more than ever. Only once did it threaten to break. Though not from anger, but from satisfaction. The banning of a certain meddlesome Duchesse nearly drew a widened smile from his lips, but luckily, he was able to resist it. How could he have forgotten about her? Isabella had told him about the insinuations the Duchesse had made, and how she and Isabella were to have afternoon tea together to discuss what Isabella had expected to be a rather delicate matter. And yet he had forgotten all about it. Though it really wasn't as though he hadn't had other things on his mind. Weddings did have a tendency to rule the mind of the groom, so who could blame him for having a nosey Duchesse slip his mind?
He made a mental note to ask Isabella about it all later, even though he could pretty much guess what had happened. The Duchesse's banishment spoke loud and clear.

However, despite his composure, Octavien didn't say a thing to anyone during the entire procedure, especially Adalita, mostly because he knew that if he did, his every word would be laced with a venom that right now, he would be unable to hold back. Isabella's presence may have somewhat cooled his temper, but he was still angry. Which was why when he returned to his suite, he sat down at the harpsichord to play. He needed an outlet.
Riding would've been his first choice, as always, but it was simply too cold. After having been outside for so long the day before, it would be taking a risk to repeat it today. He didn't wish to make himself ill. Fencing was another excellent way of venting his frustrations, but again; too cold. Thus, music would have to be his outlet.

The melody he played, was an improvisation. Releasing his anger worked best when the only notes to guide his hands were those playing within. It turned out to be a quite intense piece of music, a frenzied arrangement, as it reflected the wanderings of his mind. It started a flowing, dreamy piece, clearly inspired by the memories of the night that had passed, and of the woman in his arms, but then gradually turned into a bold and aggressive one, a fast and dark element ruling the daring melody as his thoughts once again touched the subject of Adalita and Silvius, and their blatant disrespect for the person that in this whole sordid affair was their biggest benefactor. He had no intention of demanding that Adalita was faithful. He simply didn't have the right, as he himself had no intention of being faithful to her. And even if he had, he had married her knowing she was in love with someone else, and so he still wouldn't have asked anything from her. Except the one thing he already had, and which she had already failed to show him; consideration. Did she not realize how useful he could be to the two of them, if he wanted to be?
Well, no, clearly not. Considering she had done one foolish thing after another, he could not expect her to see that. Nor did he think the Duc would. The man didn't seem all that concerned about the honor and reputation of the poor women he bedded, so the thought that he would consider Octavien's usefulness in keeping things between himself and Adalita secret, was ridiculous.
But, if neither of them was clever enough to keep things secret, it was up to Octavien to make it happen. He simply refused to be made to look like a fool, when he was anything but.
But how to go about it? Talking to Adalita obviously didn't help, and the Duc... Well, quite frankly, Octavien didn't think he'd be susceptible to anything Octavien had to say. So, whatever method he would use, it would have to be something that the Duc and Octavien's 'darling' wife could neither refuse, nor forget.
But what...?

As he pondered, his hands moved swiftly over the delicate keys, the melody starting to once again turn a bit more flowing, as his anger started to subside to make way for his ingenuity. Slowly his eyes started to roam the room, his mind hard at work behind the piercing blue gaze. It drifted from the breathtaking view outside the windows, to sweep across the bed where a mere few hours ago he'd lay so peaceful and carefree, and then continued along the walls.
Abruptly, the music stopped.
Of course! Why didn't he think of that before?
Immediately he stood from the comfortable, cushioned piano stool.

"Gilles!" he called, his voice firm and demanding. "Come! We have work to do."



(((ooc: Yeah, sorry to see you go, kipsnif, but... What did Marie expect would happen? *s*)))

Wake up!
 

((Well as I mentioned to Shenan a little while ago with Isabella and Octavien and Adalita and Silvius, there is very little for a character such as Mercy to react to.... and with my exams as well... Mercy seems to burried beneath details of osmosis and settlement laws.))

((Well there you go Atropa we are still here... we just have things to do at the moment. And this is no dig at you guys but at the moment my History exams have to take priority over roleplaying so i may not be around until Thursday when my exams finally finish))

((OOC: Excuse me for stepping in when things seem to be settled already. I know its hard to RP when your character doesn't seem to click with anyone. I'm struggling with that in the Victorian RP on this board. My mad scientist is a hermit, which doesn't equate well in RP.

Fay... I agree exams come first. I do hope Mercy will be free for the lunch date with Isabella this RP day. Isabella wants to gather Mercy's thoughts about the banishment.

I do hope activity picks up a bit. I'm RPing solo with one person in Desperado, I'd hate for this to come to that too!))

*edit*
funheart... where would Rosaline be? I'll see if Isabella can cross paths. Royalty don't usually just wander around, but for reasons to be exposed later, Isabella has direct instructions from me to not be alone this RP day.

Lilian's carriage grinded to a halt outside the entrance of the Baroque Court.
The driver came round, opened her door and assisted her in leaving the carriage.
Lifting her dress up slightly so as not to get it dirty, she made her way over to the door.
She reached out a gloved hand and banged the knocker against the door, she could hear it echo around the palace.
There was no response. She bit her lip and tried again.
She stepped back a few paces and shouted up to a window.
'Hello?' she called 'Is anyone home?'

((I was bored with Assault ocassioning ABH so I decided to let Mercy get some exercise))

Having heard of the Duchess' banishment from Helena, Mercy crept across the castle grounds. Mercy had not felt the need to attend the morning announcements, not as she was planning on leaving this place for good. She entered the Stables without a sound and quickly movent some of the tack from Marie's chests to the back of an empty stall, she then proceeded to move a fresh hay bale in front of it... not an easy task in a petty coat, she continued to move the hay until it resembled a hay store, hey long green dress had patched of dust and dried mud on it but she had not finished her task yet. She whiped the back of her hand against her forehead and gently untied a thorough-bred white mare from one of the stalls baring... for the time being... Marie's family crest...

Less than elegantly Mercy snuck into the forests leading the horse, she would return it soon... when Marie was out of the court. With no-one but her own servants to help her she would soon realise it was fuitile to search for the horse, she lead the horse to her clearing where she had brought a basket of hay and bucket of water earlier. She had had a strange day and did not look like a Baroness, but she was happy. Mercy and her dusty green dress made their way back towards the castle, and her quiet room.

Isabella
 

As the doors were shut behind her and Edouard once they entered her study, Isabella had a sense of uneasiness about her. Was her determination to put out all thoughts other than the here and now last night a deathly mistake? In focusing so much on being with Octavien did she manage to not notice something, anything that would have gotten back to Edouard? Or was it all just her guilty conscience?

She followed Edouard into the room coming to a group of chairs arranged appropriately for having lengthy discussions. As she sat gingerly on the edge of the arm chair she looked upon her husband, ready and waiting. Her heart was soon calmed as he began to speak of the fact that he hoped she would be happy now that he had banished the Duchesse. He did not understand why any one would insult his Queen. Perhaps he was trying to find out if Isabella knew of their past. Perhaps he was trying to find out what it was that caused Marie to insult her. Whichever it was Isabella was not about to try to find out. She very diplomatically thanked him and assured him she was very pleased and content in the Palace.

The subject manner then moved on to some other affairs of state. Things that rather bored her so. She realized that her husband much indeed need an advisor. She did not wish to sit under such talks more than she had to. She had so been enjoying all that life had brought to her recently; she really must make it a point to find someone to fill the vacancy. It was the least she could do since she had a part in creating it.

After their talk Isabella excused herself from his presence. As she neared the doors, a faint sound reached her ear. As in a moment of déjà she swore she heard the vaguest sound of a harpsichord being played. As the doors to the King’s suite were opened before her, her suspicions were proved correct. As she walked down the hall the beautiful sound grew louder as she walked in the direction of the new Prince’s quarters. Her walk slowed, to almost a stand still. The melody was not loud by any means, as if two people were having a conversation in the hall neither would have heard it. But since Isabella was alone, her ears had picked up on it. Given she most certainly adored the hands that played the tune her senses honed into it.

She found herself standing in front of Octavien’s doors, listening intently as what had been strong forceful notes changed effortlessly to calmer ones. She closed her eyes for just a bit, imagining she was standing in the room watching him play. She imagined the emotion of the piece would be evident in his facial features and the movement of his body. Then suddenly it stopped. As the music ceased, Isabella’s eyes flew open. Rather flustered with herself she began walking swiftly to her suite.

She did not get far before a servant bounded up the stairs. “Your Majesty.” The man called out to get Isabella’s attention. She turned swiftly finding the man in a deep bow. “A woman has arrived. She says she is Princess Lilian Whitman.”

How odd. Isabella thought. “Where is she now?” Upon hearing the servants answer she sent him to fetch a few more and began making her way down the stairs. A princess shows up unannounced and unaccompanied? How very odd indeed. Isabella warned herself, sometimes things weren’t as they seemed.

As she got to the entry hall she found the young woman just as she was told she would. Isabella’s face showcased the smile it so often did. “Welcome to the Palace of Light and Air.” Isabella turned to address the servants who had just arrived to carry the visitor’s things. “Go and gather her things. Why don’t you go ahead and put them in the Duchess’ suite. She shall not be needing it any longer.”

While the servants answered their compliance Isabella reached out to the young woman standing before her. “My poor thing, you must be cold having traveled through the dark of a winter’s night. Come, come, we shall warm you by a fire.” As Isabella began to lead Lilian to the Red Salon she inquired as to what brought her here.

'Thank you for your kind welcome' Said Lilian, curtsying 'I do apologise, allow me to introduce myself, I am Princess Lilian of the Royaume kingdom, my fiaance was tragically killed in a freak accident involving a rogue horse and I have been travelling the region, I find being at home brings back too many memories'

She looked around the room, studying every painting's finest details.
'Your home is lovely' she said softly 'I am immensely grateful to you for welcoming me in, please, tell me about this place'

Isabella & Lilian
 

((OOC: You know, we never determined if this was a British or French court. The Queen is asked to tell about her kingdom, and I don’t even know the name of the darn thing!))

Isabella sat in the comfortable arm chair listening to the young lady tell of the unfortunate death of her fiancé. Though having absolutely no experience herself even closely relating to such an event she couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. As Isabella offered her apologies, the Princess of the Royaume studied the paintings. She wondered if the girl had been a student of art in any sort of form.

“Your home is lovely. I am immensely grateful to you for welcoming in.” Isabella couldn’t help but remain smiling politely. She had hardly ever thought of the Palace as her home. It was so large and so vast, there were rooms that when she entered she nearly felt a stranger. Her one adventure down stairs to the Kitchen had proved there was more of the Palace she did not know of. And honestly she hoped she never would have to descend to the darkness of that floor again.

“Please, tell me about this place.” Isabella wasn’t sure exactly what the young woman wanted to know. Did she really have no clue as to where she was? For a moment Isabella wanted to ask how it felt to have such freedom. She seemed bound to stay in this Palace, as Edouard never wished to adventure out. “Well, you find yourself in the Palace of Light and Air. Ruled over valiantly by the King Edouard Auguste Louis Rotherham the fourth.” Isabella had to say the words with purpose as she was not in habit of listing his long full title.

“But all of that is simply status. Perhaps you’d be more inclined to know that we have the most beautiful woods ever known to man. Albeit they are a bit bare now that it is winter.” Isabella let out a slight laugh as she thought to say they were so beautiful one could get lost in them and not mind in the slightest. However she decided to hold that back.

Isabella suddenly realized she must have appeared terribly distracted. She quickly thought to resume the conversation. “I am afraid that though this palace is large, we were not expecting your arrival, we did not have a room appropriate for your title readied.” Isabella stood, wishing for Lilian to do so also. “However, we had a Duchesse leave our court today, and I instructed the servants to put your things there for the time being. May I show you around?”

The two ladies left the red salon, Isabella pointed out various past kings whose portraits hung on the wall while giving Lilian a tour. She was sure to point out the dining hall, the grand ball room, and any room that could be of use. Before turning in the direction of the Princess’ new quarters Isabella thought to ask, “How long do you think you’ll be staying with us? If it’s for any length of time, I must see to upgrading the contents of your room.”

((OOC: Left them in the hall of the first floor on purpose so any character can happen to stumble across them.))

Roseline
 

Roseline woke early, back to her usual routine that she had missed the recent mornings, Louisa her maid waking her by pulling open the heavy velvet curtains that hung sadly dark against the windows. Roseline moved one pale arm to cover her eyes, attempting to ward off the morning light if only for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the now bright room. With a slight sigh, she swung her legs over the side of her large bed, allowing Louisa to run about, collecting Roseline’s day clothes while she made her way over to the window, the grey sky that seemed unwavering, dampening her mood immediately.

While Louisa carried on generally tidying the large room, Roseline stood by the window, her eyes skimming over the gardens, frost settled on the flowers. The Duc’s party last night that Roseline had actually managed to drag herself to had been completely over-rated. Silvius himself she didn’t think that she had seen once, and now the Court rumour-mill, now back in full throttle was telling stories of him and the Princess once again. The party itself, therefore had been much of a shambles, the Duc’s guests left to entertain themselves, the only thing keeping them there being the band, and the thought of not being seen at such a highly regarded party, hosted by the Duc himself, who many said was the favourite to take the Duc of Mollier’s position as the King’s advisor.

“Baroness?” Louisa’s voice drew Roseline’s thoughts quickly away from her, and with a small smile, she shook away thoughts of last night and drew her mind back to the present.

Finally ready, and dressed in a light blue dress, Roseline left her chamber, her long light hair curled and piled on top of her head in a simple up-do for the morning address. Her thoughts, on the way down towards the Grand Hall for the morning announcements by the King were of Octavien. She wondered, by her pitiful excuses to dive the subject away from herself that she had in fact upset him in some way. Yet, how was she to explain the rumours? Of course, the basis of them was true, but how could she say simply that she had allowed Silvius to stay the night in her chambers, and that nothing had gone on? The night before his would-be wedding at that? Not that she believed, of course that in fact Octavien would think less of her, at least out loud, she thought she knew him well enough to realise he wouldn’t say a word to anyone else who was likely to pass it on, but then she was fighting an internal battle. If only she could bare everything, and every thought, the only thin wall holding her back being his title. He was now the Prince. A simple statement but enough to almost influence Roseline, that and the way that the right words could never come to her.

Finally she was forced to forget, if for only a short time the memories of yesterday as she entered the Grand Hall, neither early nor late, arriving just a short time before the Royal Family made their appearance. The way that she normally was and yet a routine so easily forgotten in light of the recent events.

Soon, the family entered, one extra in their midst seeming to make his new title even more real.

“The King speaks,” At the familiar voice, a hush grew over the crowded Hall, all faces turned towards the front.
“This morn we celebrate a new year, and often such celebrations are centered on change. Every person present knows that I continue to search for a person who can fill the shoes of the late Duc of Mollier as my personal advisor. I do hope that the perfect person for the position will be found soon, and we may make 1677 a most prosperous year.” Roseline raised her hand slightly to tap against the other, making hardly a noise, but together with some of the other Courtiers it made it seem louder, Roseline seemed to be one of the first to stop clapping, but some continued while he carried on.

“Our beloved Queen has brought a matter to my attention of which I fear I must deal with swiftly.” His words had brought silence over the crowd, no one clapped any further, and the couple of whispers that had been heard now vanished completely. “As of this day, Duchesse Marie Clothilde di Bourbon-Parma is no longer a part of this court.” Roseline blinked slightly, missing his exiting words and only became aware that the announcements were over when many courtiers began spilling out of the Grand Hall into the hallways, many back to their chambers. She thought for a moment about how different in Court it was during the summer. The courtiers would all spill outside, into the warmth and most would go riding, but now that the winter frost was still persistent none ventured outside, many meeting if it was necessary in the corridors of the old building.

Roseline herself began back on her way towards her chambers, but changed her mind half way there and turned down a different, but equally ornate hallway. Another had been banished from the Court. So many had left recently, but a Duchesse of all people should know her place, and from what the King had divulged it seemed likely that she had upset the Queen herself.

Roseline stopped for a moment in the corridor, her eyes trailing along the many portraits that hung on the walls before setting off again, her pace slow as she allowed her gaze to rest on each painting, each as beautiful as the last down the hallway. Gorgeous Queens and handsome Kings lined along one wall while the other contained all the gallant Princes and precious Princesses, some influential Courtiers themselves making their way onto the wall, as if it were one of fame or something.

Without noticing, Roseline had grinded to a halt in front of some Queen, or Princess or other, her thoughts running away from the present, as they took her away, some memories of home flowing back into her consciousness.


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((OOC: Glad to see you post funheart! Uhm... I think it wouldn't be hard for us (being Isabella and Lilian) to come across Roseline. Isabella will be happy to introduce the Princess to you, as your both younger women. Although, I'll have to search back and see if Isabella even knows Rosaline. I forget sometimes! I shall edit this later with a post, unless Swirly objects.))

(( I don't object ))