Post by earlyrose on Jun 27, 2008 16:04:28 GMT -5
Elmora, who, somewhat unusually, had been quite relaxed dancing and was suprised when Dacian pulled away. Had he not been enjoying it? Did he not want to be seen with her? She tailed him to the door. It so happened that this ballroom had a patio that led into the gardens, and she saw Dacian walk tensely away from the doors.
Then she noticed the boy that Dacian had slipped out to see. She saw she was selfcentered herself, of course, it was nothing to do with her that Dacian had stopped the dance. She glanced at the boy and relised she was jelous that Dacian had rushed over to see him. That said, who even was the boy? At first, Elmora had assumed it was a servant, but he had been, she now noticed, far too scruffy to be that. It seemed Dacian was busying himself with peasants aswell as dressing like one! Not that she was the gossiping sort. Unlike some of the girls at court, that lived like parasites off naughty rumours and treacherous secrets that were constantly flying around court. Elmora rose above the petty, spiteful girls and only took notice of rumours when they involved someone close. Rumours didn't start from nothing, there was often seeds of truth amoung the fabricated nonsense. So she'd tell none of Dacian's intergration with peasants. She stepped back inside, clasping her hands. Only to see the red face of her Aunt towering above her.
"Elmora Jane Geldenwich!" she hissed venomously. Her eyes glittered and were narrowed into slits. Elmora tried to keep a straight face at the hag-like features of Aunt Veronica during a rage, and luckily, succeded.
"Aunt Veronica," she curtsied politely, "May I help you in any way?"
"You... foolish child! Dancing with men far your inferior! Do you know where this leads?"
Veronica stared at her, on the verge of steaming. Elmora tried to look guilty and meek.
"It leads to a convent, child! Nobody marries disobedient, childish women, girl." She straightened, "You must order your priorities. That cousin is-"
"A Geldenwich. He is odd, yes, but safe and a friend." Elmora spoke softly but surely. Aunt Veronica sniffed.
"Your father will hear of this, girl!" she muttered. None of their conversation had been above a whisper, for it was not one that would want to be overheard. Elmora felt a quiet, small smile of victory twitch onto her face. Aunt Veronica pursed her lips, beetle-like, and turned with a swish of gown.
Then she noticed the boy that Dacian had slipped out to see. She saw she was selfcentered herself, of course, it was nothing to do with her that Dacian had stopped the dance. She glanced at the boy and relised she was jelous that Dacian had rushed over to see him. That said, who even was the boy? At first, Elmora had assumed it was a servant, but he had been, she now noticed, far too scruffy to be that. It seemed Dacian was busying himself with peasants aswell as dressing like one! Not that she was the gossiping sort. Unlike some of the girls at court, that lived like parasites off naughty rumours and treacherous secrets that were constantly flying around court. Elmora rose above the petty, spiteful girls and only took notice of rumours when they involved someone close. Rumours didn't start from nothing, there was often seeds of truth amoung the fabricated nonsense. So she'd tell none of Dacian's intergration with peasants. She stepped back inside, clasping her hands. Only to see the red face of her Aunt towering above her.
"Elmora Jane Geldenwich!" she hissed venomously. Her eyes glittered and were narrowed into slits. Elmora tried to keep a straight face at the hag-like features of Aunt Veronica during a rage, and luckily, succeded.
"Aunt Veronica," she curtsied politely, "May I help you in any way?"
"You... foolish child! Dancing with men far your inferior! Do you know where this leads?"
Veronica stared at her, on the verge of steaming. Elmora tried to look guilty and meek.
"It leads to a convent, child! Nobody marries disobedient, childish women, girl." She straightened, "You must order your priorities. That cousin is-"
"A Geldenwich. He is odd, yes, but safe and a friend." Elmora spoke softly but surely. Aunt Veronica sniffed.
"Your father will hear of this, girl!" she muttered. None of their conversation had been above a whisper, for it was not one that would want to be overheard. Elmora felt a quiet, small smile of victory twitch onto her face. Aunt Veronica pursed her lips, beetle-like, and turned with a swish of gown.