|
Post by Estelle de Cher on Nov 20, 2008 16:48:29 GMT -5
SHE smiled at the young sovereign, thinking somewhere in the back of her mind that she probably would have agreed to anything that he had requested of her. There was just something about him that made him almost magnetic, despite the very ironic stigmata that came with being someone in his position. Sure, a ruler's people could love him, but when face-to-face, were they not usually afraid? With King Helouyn, though, Estelle decided it was different.
However, she could not help but notice his restrained smile, almost as if he was hiding something from her. She decided against questioning him about it, not because of his status, but simply because they had just met; they were practically strangers...not for long, if Estelle had her way, but strangers nonetheless. It was simple rude: something like that was too personal to discuss with a stranger, not to mention that she, by asking about it, would unintentionally imply that she had been studying his features. That could throw her game off even more that it already was.
Thoughts aside, the duchesse looped her arm around the offered one, careful to brush the material of his jacket (an age-old trick of the trade). “I humbly thank His Majesty,” she replied. “The night’s settling chill is becoming quite...tenacious, one could say.” [/font][/size][/blockquote] { walking is difficult without having to pp... too many implications have to be made. just go for it, i don’t care.}
|
|
|
Post by Flann Helouyn on Nov 24, 2008 23:27:16 GMT -5
he moment she brushed against his coat, Flann knew this had been a good idea. If he'd been thinking straight, he would have never allowed her to get this close to him. He'd simply followed one of his lesser impulses, a young man escorting a young lady back to the safety of the castle. However, Flann would make a very poor protector, for the thing he had to protect her from the most was himself. With great difficulty, Flann kept from showing any of his worries on his face and began escorting Estelle down the pathway toward the castle. He kept his pace casual, but not too slow. The sooner they got to the castle, the sooner they were surrounded by witnesses, the safer Estelle de Cher would be.
"To answer your previous question, I adore Kemr. However, I feel more...comfortable in Transylvania."
He wanted to distract himself, and he also felt a need to find out more about her, "So, where is it that you are from? The name de Cher most certainly doesn't sound native to this region." Flann would bet an incredible amount of gold that she came from the Kingdom of France, the country just south from his own homeland. He immediately found himself wondering what a french noblewoman was doing in Transylvania. But he had to be patient, would have to wait for his questions to be answered one at a time.
The castle came ever nearer, and he felt his shoulders start to relax little by little with every step. Would he allow himself to ask for more time with her once they were inside? Most likely. Flann was selfless enough to get the girl inside, where they would be surrounded by other people, however he was selfish enough to spend more time with her if it was offered.
Soon their were walking through the glow of torches held by guards posted at the castle door. King Helouyn was recognized by sight alone, and apparently so was the Duchesse, for they were let through without being given a second glance. The guards knew better than to stare at a woman of high status. They also knew better than to stare at a woman on the arm of King Helouyn.
Once inside the castle, Flann found it considerably warmer, the strong walls keeping out the night chill. Externally he was warm and content, however, in his mind there was turmoil. What was he to do now...?
|
|
|
Post by Estelle de Cher on Nov 27, 2008 1:07:30 GMT -5
ESTELLE found herself nodding as King Helouyn described his adoration for his homeland, but the comfort he found in being in Transylvania. She felt the same, although probably for a different reason. For her, being at home was lovely, but she wasn’t free to do as she pleased in the court of France. She wanted to really “involve” herself in the noble people, but back home, she would feel too ashamed to do so under the watch of her mother and father. A big part of that, too, was that it was so much more difficult not to think of her lost Armand when she was in the place were they had spent go much time together. France, in general, had that effect on her.
"So, where is it that you are from? The name de Cher most certainly doesn't sound native to this region," her companion remarked.
“His Majesty would be correct in that assumption,” she replied. “I hail from the country of France.” Together, they strode into the castle, past guard who were wise enough not to second guess the pair. The change in temperature made her cheeks flush slightly, as she felt the sudden rush of blood to her face. She brought her unoccupied hand to her face to dim the red that had abruptly appeared there, as her hand where still chilled from the fledgling night’s air.
The duchesse, after removing her hand from her visage, looked up to better study the features of King Helouyn. She noticed—with a smile—full lips, one of the cutest noses she had ever seen on a man, eyes that were a light golden green and surround by lashes that were, while not over-bountiful, very dark. He was one of those few people, Estelle concluded, that looked better in light than in the dark, not to imply that the people she knew were generally ugly, but darkness often gave people an added sense of magnetic mystery. With the King, however, he didn’t really need it, so it didn’t do anything.
Estelle, continuing their conversation, said, “I find that Transylvania is much different from home, but it’s different in a pleasantly exotic sort of way. I miss my mother and father greatly, but I find living here much more enjoyable than living in France....” She trailed off, sure of where she was going with this conversation, but unsure of why she had felt compelled to compare her country with this one. It couldn’t help but feel a bit traitorous for expressing her preference for Transylvania, but when she wasn’t focused on lying, she wasn’t very good at it. [/font][/size][/blockquote]
|
|
|
Post by Flann Helouyn on Nov 28, 2008 19:34:25 GMT -5
he monarch listened intently as she confirmed his assumption, she was from France after all. He turned to her, unthinkingly taking in a breath of air just as her cheeks flushed. The amount of so much blood, so close, in combination with the scent that was all her own, brought Flann almost to his knees. He had to stop, hand pressed to his mouth. The king nearly cursed at himself aloud, angry that he'd let his guard down for mere seconds. He could have killed her. With that thought came the image of himself tilting her head to side, exposing the milky skin of her neck. Flann shuddered and had to squeeze his eyes shut.
How could he explain this to her? Maybe that he suffered from an illness passed to him front his father? Yes, that could work. His father had died decades ago, and it wasn't likely that she would run into someone from his homeland and hear any different. Yes, that is what he would tell her.
After what was a mere minute, but seemed almost an eternity, Flann straightened, swallowing the urge to breathe. He would have to feed before seeing her again, that was for certain. Flann forced a pained smile to his lips, "Forgive me, I am not feeling too well, duchesse de Cher."
He realized that she'd spoken before he'd had to force his eyes closed. ''I find that Transylvania is much different from home, but it’s different in a pleasantly exotic sort of way. I miss my mother and father greatly, but I find living here much more enjoyable than living in France....' He nodded, fishing the words from his memory. "I completely understand duchesse, as I've confessed the same to your earlier." His smile now looked more amused that pained, and the genuine mood touched his eyes.
{sorry...the Flann muse is lacking XD}
|
|