Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2016 9:36:12 GMT -5
Caterina didn't necessarily see need to curb her anger. She felt justified, petty perhaps, and unwilling to hear all sides of the story which were otherwise unlike the woman. However, she felt some sort of healing power out of maintaining that feeling of being scandalized. Surely, the negative attention all this situation had brought her reputation was not about to go away any time soon, this very public embarrassment would change the woman for a long time to come. Even if she were willing to look closer, to hear Joanna, to forgive her brother for letting this happen to her, the hurt, the hit to her pride, the whispers she did or thought she did hear on the matter did not allow her to let it go.
Perhaps because she was a rather passionate woman did the whole situation remain hot on her mind, and with every action she took those embers continued to blaze. She sulked, but in her own way which was far from a standard show of depression. She seemed to act with less focus, with less care in a sense, but was not lethargic, was not relegated to a sobbing heap. She hadn't cared all that much for Lord Cesare. She didn't know him and hadn't tried to fix that. It wasn't him that she mourned. She wished, silently of course, that Fabrizio hadn't had to go. She missed him, though in a way it was nice to be rid of all the temptation he represented and allowed her to firmly retain her position that he and his family were no good.
The Lady wandered the streets of Bordelaix, wearing perhaps darker an outfit than she normally would. She wore a dress of gray so dark it was near to black, with trimmings of white and beige, only a swath of cloth here or there adding enough light for the whole thing not to be morose. Cat wore small gloves, and her hair was done up in a braided bun. She had opted to head towards the religious quarter of the city, though not to the same establishment that she had last time she'd come wandering. This time, she came with a small bag of coins - handled by a guardsman - with the intention of helping a few poor souls of the Capital. She didn't feel like she owed these people anything, but perhaps someone would offer her some words, some perspective, to be enjoyed in exchange for the surprising donation.
Perhaps because she was a rather passionate woman did the whole situation remain hot on her mind, and with every action she took those embers continued to blaze. She sulked, but in her own way which was far from a standard show of depression. She seemed to act with less focus, with less care in a sense, but was not lethargic, was not relegated to a sobbing heap. She hadn't cared all that much for Lord Cesare. She didn't know him and hadn't tried to fix that. It wasn't him that she mourned. She wished, silently of course, that Fabrizio hadn't had to go. She missed him, though in a way it was nice to be rid of all the temptation he represented and allowed her to firmly retain her position that he and his family were no good.
The Lady wandered the streets of Bordelaix, wearing perhaps darker an outfit than she normally would. She wore a dress of gray so dark it was near to black, with trimmings of white and beige, only a swath of cloth here or there adding enough light for the whole thing not to be morose. Cat wore small gloves, and her hair was done up in a braided bun. She had opted to head towards the religious quarter of the city, though not to the same establishment that she had last time she'd come wandering. This time, she came with a small bag of coins - handled by a guardsman - with the intention of helping a few poor souls of the Capital. She didn't feel like she owed these people anything, but perhaps someone would offer her some words, some perspective, to be enjoyed in exchange for the surprising donation.