Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2015 0:07:55 GMT -5
Emile huffed irritably, tossing a sheaf of correspondence onto his writing desk as he pulled himself up from his chair, tugging absently where his shirt had stuck to his ribs and back.
"This heat." He opined loudly, tossing his arms in a vain attempt to get some air moving around his torso as he crossed to a window overlooking Lake Boneau, retrieving a sterling carafe and glass set as he went, decanting himself a glass of rapidly warming red wine. "To say nothing of…anything else BAH!" Emile discarded the carafe onto a sidetable, and after one drink, the remnants of the tepid wine before he clamped both his hands over the sill of the window.
The view across the Boneau was lovely, with the sun sinking across the horizon like molten gold and the water of the lake sparkling with it's reflection. Sighing once more, the Prince let his head droop as a snippet of a half composed song flitted irritably through his mind, tickling his ear but refusing to coalesce into anything more substantive. Growling wordlessly, Emile pushed away from the wall and turned back into the room.
After another cursory glance around the room and once more shrugging and tugging at this shirt, Emile decided to quit his apartment for a restive walk in the garden, hoping to clear and soothe his mind.
As the sun set, the Chateau gardens were lit by widely spaced lamps never bright enough to detract from the glow of the moon, should it be present. Of course, this also made the gardens ideal for clandestine meetings whether amorous of intention or not, and so wandering the paths after sundown could become awkward very quickly. Yet Emile, who seemed to possess little if any shame, had no fear of such an encounter, after all, any daliance was just grist for the mill at court.
There was so much coming to a head in the near future, Nicolette's proclamation as Regent, and the investigation into the attacks on his own cousins, never to mention the opening of the court season. Still, the gardens were lovely, and the perfume of the air changed as he wandered, here scented with lilac and honeysuckle, and then the smell shifted to roses. As the sky deepened from sunset rose into truer twilight dusk, Emile found himself gazing once more at the lake, through the screen of a trellis of Moonflower vines. He was reminded suddenly of years gone by, when he would sit near other plantings of these flowers waiting for them to bloom, and watching the fireflies weave their way through the air. The abrupt bloom of nostalga went a long way toward easing the day's stresses even if the heat of the day still clung to the garden. Just as abruptly, another memory occured, and Emile found himself singing soflty...
@gwyneveredeschenes
* Copyright to Celtic Thunder, 'Just a Song at Twilight' off of the album Heritage
"This heat." He opined loudly, tossing his arms in a vain attempt to get some air moving around his torso as he crossed to a window overlooking Lake Boneau, retrieving a sterling carafe and glass set as he went, decanting himself a glass of rapidly warming red wine. "To say nothing of…anything else BAH!" Emile discarded the carafe onto a sidetable, and after one drink, the remnants of the tepid wine before he clamped both his hands over the sill of the window.
The view across the Boneau was lovely, with the sun sinking across the horizon like molten gold and the water of the lake sparkling with it's reflection. Sighing once more, the Prince let his head droop as a snippet of a half composed song flitted irritably through his mind, tickling his ear but refusing to coalesce into anything more substantive. Growling wordlessly, Emile pushed away from the wall and turned back into the room.
After another cursory glance around the room and once more shrugging and tugging at this shirt, Emile decided to quit his apartment for a restive walk in the garden, hoping to clear and soothe his mind.
As the sun set, the Chateau gardens were lit by widely spaced lamps never bright enough to detract from the glow of the moon, should it be present. Of course, this also made the gardens ideal for clandestine meetings whether amorous of intention or not, and so wandering the paths after sundown could become awkward very quickly. Yet Emile, who seemed to possess little if any shame, had no fear of such an encounter, after all, any daliance was just grist for the mill at court.
There was so much coming to a head in the near future, Nicolette's proclamation as Regent, and the investigation into the attacks on his own cousins, never to mention the opening of the court season. Still, the gardens were lovely, and the perfume of the air changed as he wandered, here scented with lilac and honeysuckle, and then the smell shifted to roses. As the sky deepened from sunset rose into truer twilight dusk, Emile found himself gazing once more at the lake, through the screen of a trellis of Moonflower vines. He was reminded suddenly of years gone by, when he would sit near other plantings of these flowers waiting for them to bloom, and watching the fireflies weave their way through the air. The abrupt bloom of nostalga went a long way toward easing the day's stresses even if the heat of the day still clung to the garden. Just as abruptly, another memory occured, and Emile found himself singing soflty...
"Once in the dear dead days beyond recall
When on the world the mists began to fall
Out of the dreams that rose in happy throng
Low to our hearts Love sang an old sweet song; …"*
When on the world the mists began to fall
Out of the dreams that rose in happy throng
Low to our hearts Love sang an old sweet song; …"*
@gwyneveredeschenes
* Copyright to Celtic Thunder, 'Just a Song at Twilight' off of the album Heritage