Post by Deleted on Apr 21, 2015 22:34:25 GMT -5
Casper Deveraux.
That name -- short, irritating -- kept popping up lately, hadn't it?
He was her cousin. -- Of a sort. A young man, typical Deveraux fairness; tall, lean, blonde hair, blue eyes -- most likely. Antoinette had not rightly crossed paths with him herself, thus far. A distant cousin, at best; the last bit of a withered up family line, soiled blood, so far from their own main line that it was barely worth considering -- or so Antoinette had grown, hearing, believing. Essentially -- no one. At least, no one anymore. And yet...
Talk had been up and about regarding this distant cousin of hers, more frequently of late; since their time in Lockewood, where apparently he had been fostered all this time, and crossed paths with Nicolette; or she had sought him out...? Antoinette had not smoothed out the wrinkles in that part of the story. And talk was something Antoinette knew; understood; adhered to. It was hard to gossip in Archades without Antoinette hearing a little peep from her many birds about the nature of it; and even harder when it came to anyone who bore the same surname as she.
Regardless of Casper's birthrite, ranking or placement, Antoinette knew two very important things about this young cousin that were enough to warrant her own interest: Nicolette had found counsel in him. And her uncle, Jean-Luc, practically reverberated contempt when only his name was uttered.
A young boy of nineteen, giving the old bear such a rise?
That was enough. Enough for Antoinette to know that she needed to know -- more. Firsthand.
A note is delivered to Casper's chambers the day before:
@casperdeveraux
That name -- short, irritating -- kept popping up lately, hadn't it?
He was her cousin. -- Of a sort. A young man, typical Deveraux fairness; tall, lean, blonde hair, blue eyes -- most likely. Antoinette had not rightly crossed paths with him herself, thus far. A distant cousin, at best; the last bit of a withered up family line, soiled blood, so far from their own main line that it was barely worth considering -- or so Antoinette had grown, hearing, believing. Essentially -- no one. At least, no one anymore. And yet...
Talk had been up and about regarding this distant cousin of hers, more frequently of late; since their time in Lockewood, where apparently he had been fostered all this time, and crossed paths with Nicolette; or she had sought him out...? Antoinette had not smoothed out the wrinkles in that part of the story. And talk was something Antoinette knew; understood; adhered to. It was hard to gossip in Archades without Antoinette hearing a little peep from her many birds about the nature of it; and even harder when it came to anyone who bore the same surname as she.
Regardless of Casper's birthrite, ranking or placement, Antoinette knew two very important things about this young cousin that were enough to warrant her own interest: Nicolette had found counsel in him. And her uncle, Jean-Luc, practically reverberated contempt when only his name was uttered.
A young boy of nineteen, giving the old bear such a rise?
That was enough. Enough for Antoinette to know that she needed to know -- more. Firsthand.
A note is delivered to Casper's chambers the day before:
Cousin -- or that which best I should call you; I will try my hardest not to feel rebuffed that you, I have heard, have been meeting with all of my dear family these past few weeks, slipped out of whatever hole you've appeared from -- all save myself. Let's remedy this, shall we?
Come to my parlor for a late brunch on the morrow. Don't break your fast before; I am sure we will have much to dine over together. Almost years worth, wouldn't you agree?
Princess A. Deveraux
Come to my parlor for a late brunch on the morrow. Don't break your fast before; I am sure we will have much to dine over together. Almost years worth, wouldn't you agree?
Princess A. Deveraux
@casperdeveraux