Post by Aneira Trevelyan on Feb 24, 2016 0:53:55 GMT -5
The castle in which the Princess and her delegation was housed grew decidedly chilly at night as the mountain winds swiftly dispensed with the warmth baked into its stones earlier in the day. Aneira had briefly wondered at the reason for furs on the beds; one night in Vanderhall made the reason abundantly clear, along with the long-handled brass vessels that were filled with coals and used to warm the beds before the occupants climbed between the sheets. The trip was proving rather... educational for the notorious Baroness on a variety of levels, not merely the domestic.
Not yet ready for sleep and desirous of more mature company, Aneira drew out the bottle of fine brandy she'd secreted in her trunk for her private enjoyment, catching up a pair of glasses before she left the chamber assigned to her. Stepping out into the dimly-lighted hall, she counted doors until she reached the chamber that belonged to the Lord Marshal. She paused at the door, tilting her head to listen carefully for any sounds within. Hearing none and seeing no thin line of light beneath the door, she did not bother to knock, instead simply admitting herself to the room.
The fire had been lighted to keep the chamber warm against the Lord Marshal's return, along with one or two lamps that were set low. Aneira placed the bottle and glasses down on the table before raising the wicks' levels to brighten their glow. The hour was such that she did not think she would have to wait long before Jean-Luc returned as she seated herself to wait for him. A little nightcap and some adult conversation was just what she needed to end the day.
Jean-Luc Deveraux