Post by Deleted on Apr 19, 2016 22:05:54 GMT -5
"I am stealing all of your evenings, of late. I hope you aren't too sour with me for it."
Antoinette's cheshire grin cast itself over the rim of her chalice at the Ibarra woman, who was seated just across from her on the terrace; both women wrapped in thick fur shawls of the Princess Royal's furnishing, to combat against the steadily cooling air. The evening had started off as a fair one, but as they approached mid-fall, Bordelaix's nightfall would gradually herald colder temperatures; and while she hadn't quite felt a chill in her fingers get, Antoinette was loathe to leave the relative privacy and comfort of her personal terrace.
After all, she had invited Kattalin Ibarra to join her that evening, for once, not at the behest of gathering or under the gaze of the Crown Princess, but just as an occasion for the two of them, in a relaxed setting -- to enjoy some of the castle's finest vintage.
And gossip.
As such, the pair of women were sequestered out on the terrace of Antoinette's personal chambers, and the Princess Royal, counting only for herself, was on her second glass of wine -- relaxed, for once, nestled in her own chair, considering slipping her feet out from beneath her and tucking them up under the warmth of her skirts. Perhaps in a minute, she might even do it -- such a relaxed, casual behavior usually reserved for the presence of Nicolette, and no one else.
But one might even say Antoinette was considering Kattalin Ibarra -- as the potential -- for a true friend, these days.
Who would have thought? Perhaps she was growing soft.
(Even the musing of that made Antoinette want to laugh.)
Kattalin Ibarra
Antoinette's cheshire grin cast itself over the rim of her chalice at the Ibarra woman, who was seated just across from her on the terrace; both women wrapped in thick fur shawls of the Princess Royal's furnishing, to combat against the steadily cooling air. The evening had started off as a fair one, but as they approached mid-fall, Bordelaix's nightfall would gradually herald colder temperatures; and while she hadn't quite felt a chill in her fingers get, Antoinette was loathe to leave the relative privacy and comfort of her personal terrace.
After all, she had invited Kattalin Ibarra to join her that evening, for once, not at the behest of gathering or under the gaze of the Crown Princess, but just as an occasion for the two of them, in a relaxed setting -- to enjoy some of the castle's finest vintage.
And gossip.
As such, the pair of women were sequestered out on the terrace of Antoinette's personal chambers, and the Princess Royal, counting only for herself, was on her second glass of wine -- relaxed, for once, nestled in her own chair, considering slipping her feet out from beneath her and tucking them up under the warmth of her skirts. Perhaps in a minute, she might even do it -- such a relaxed, casual behavior usually reserved for the presence of Nicolette, and no one else.
But one might even say Antoinette was considering Kattalin Ibarra -- as the potential -- for a true friend, these days.
Who would have thought? Perhaps she was growing soft.
(Even the musing of that made Antoinette want to laugh.)
Kattalin Ibarra