Post by Emile Deveraux on Jul 25, 2017 22:24:29 GMT -5
Their party had, it felt, stolen away in the night, to return to Bordelaix. It felt like defeat. It felt like giving up and hiding ones head in the sand. Surely, Emile craved to do just that. The urge to drown his thoughts in the bottom of a bottle was more than a little tempting. But if for nothing else, he remained sober for his cousin. She whom they had all failed. Mariette, the purest of them, who had placed her faith in Emile and led the lot of them, had been snatched under their nose. And try as they might, but the King's people had been unable to find her. Certainly, they had suspicions, and plans to concoct to retrieve her, but nothing was for certain. And nothing would change the fact that she was not here, her wellbeing was not guaranteed.
Emile was with the contingency that travelled out of Vasile, through Lockewood until it finally made its way to Faucheux and on the road to the palace. The travel this time felt, he thought, a lot different than on the road North. It was more silent, less optimistic. He wondered if it was simply Mariette's obvious absence that created the shift, or was it simply that she was not here to make pleasant small talk. While Emile could rub elbows with the nobility just as well as his peers, he was not a natural optimist as his cousin was. If anything, should he be invited to speak his real mind without repercussions, he would be a rather pessimistic man.
He'd had only one night's rest in his chambers before he had woken. He first collected his sister to see to the tomb of their brother, whose funeral they had missed. And then, after a brief snack, Emile looked to have an audience with Nicolette. The last time the two had spoken frankly, things had ended with a sour taste in his mouth. Still, surely she had a part in the decision to commission him North. He wondered if she now blamed him for Mariette's state. Either way, he needed to talk with her. He lounged about the castle until he was told that she would see him and thus made his way to be received. Though he did not smile genuinely, he tried not to seem a miserable creature. Instead, dressed as richly as was usual for him, he looked pensive, wary, and perhaps a bit tired.
Carlotta Deliambre
Emile was with the contingency that travelled out of Vasile, through Lockewood until it finally made its way to Faucheux and on the road to the palace. The travel this time felt, he thought, a lot different than on the road North. It was more silent, less optimistic. He wondered if it was simply Mariette's obvious absence that created the shift, or was it simply that she was not here to make pleasant small talk. While Emile could rub elbows with the nobility just as well as his peers, he was not a natural optimist as his cousin was. If anything, should he be invited to speak his real mind without repercussions, he would be a rather pessimistic man.
He'd had only one night's rest in his chambers before he had woken. He first collected his sister to see to the tomb of their brother, whose funeral they had missed. And then, after a brief snack, Emile looked to have an audience with Nicolette. The last time the two had spoken frankly, things had ended with a sour taste in his mouth. Still, surely she had a part in the decision to commission him North. He wondered if she now blamed him for Mariette's state. Either way, he needed to talk with her. He lounged about the castle until he was told that she would see him and thus made his way to be received. Though he did not smile genuinely, he tried not to seem a miserable creature. Instead, dressed as richly as was usual for him, he looked pensive, wary, and perhaps a bit tired.
Carlotta Deliambre