Sσcιєтʏ oғ Rσsєs ❁ Arranged Marriage | Closed

[Sugary Parfait]

The lolling final sprawl of summer gave a certain thickness to the air. Parched tongues and ruddy cheeks were seen on most commoners and even the cattle had a certain laziness about their gait. It was a time to relish in the year's wine and dance in the summer wind when work permitted. In fact, it was one of my favourite times of year; there was a general gayness in folk's spirits that you couldn't find in the dead of winter. A fruity aroma overcame the typical stench of urine and dirt that wafted throughout the villages. The only problem with this time of the year were the shrill cries and giggles that were the result of small children. I detest small children. They're filthy, loud and have no sense of respect for any living creature. I remember once a young women pleading me to be understanding when he son stepped on my toes;
"Weren't you a child once? I implore you!"
To hell with that, I was an annoying mess or unbathed hair and dirt at the same age. However, it was a small plight and easily ignored with the beauty that compromised otherwise. There was nothing like going for a horseback trek through the forests where you could hear nightingales sing and bees buzz in my ears. The apple trees were filled with ripe red fruit and small white blossoms that smelled as delicious as the fruit itself. That was a rare treat when I could get my hands on a stallion - only at dawn before the farmers would take note of their livestock as they were too busy tending the fields. On an average day I would spend it the same as any other, sitting in my dank barracks with a loaded tobacco pipe and a quill in hand.
There was a small alley, dirty - but no more than any other. Inside of a brick house there was a whole new world which erupted when dusk fell. Above the door was a faded sign for a Mr. Fitzwilliam's meats, but it certainly was long gone. You'd enter into a long corridor full of torn wallpaper and unreliable lamps that flickered wildly with or without a gust of wind. At the end of the hall there was a stage covered in various grime and faint blood stains from the chaos of nightfall. This was the town's arena, where youth and the homeless would come to earn fame and fortune by socking one another until someone fell down and couldn't get up. Really a lovely way to pass time, I swear! I had been in this musty, filthy building for the past ten years of my life and it had become a home to me. I knew the regular fighters not only by name but by style and they referred to me as cat of the arena as I lurked in the corners during the day and went on the prowl by night. At the moment I sat on my bedroll in one of the locker rooms. Encircling me was a wreath of smoke, and in my lap lay a bottle of whisky and a messy sheet of paper with thick globs of ink sprawling across the sheet. I was half drunk and half asleep despite the hour being around midday. Under my breath I hummed a tune I couldn't recall the name of nor, truly, remember the words but it was comforting none the less. At intervals I sucked back a waft of smoke and let it linger in my lungs, burning and building until I'd gasp with another cloud of smoke.
Out of nowhere, the door flew open and in ran the courier, Arthur. "Lowesly, you got a letta', sir!" He seemed out of breath, exasperated and quite frankly I was too - I simply didn't get letters and had no reason to get one. My friends were either non-existent or too poor to afford postage. I grabbed the letter from his wrinkled hands and noticed it was expensive parchment; thick, off-white with a red ribbon sealed by a red wax stamp. This was no letter of mine, I was born and raised without family and the only people I knew lived on the streets or in the ragged corners of town. Arthur stood over me, he stared hungrily as if he was waiting for a scrap of food yet he stared at the letter knowing as well as I that it wasn't something typical nor was it something really that ought to be pertaining to me. I pondered hiding it back and proclaiming it to be a mistake but shrugged and scoured my sheets for the blade I kept with me at night. Precautionary measures are safer than taking your chances when you live in a fighting ring. Finally I found it beneath my pillow and it nicked my thumb; a small drop of blood fell onto the stark sheet of paper and I dug into the seal, ignoring my wound. It smelled of expensive perfume and as I pulled out the letter it was clearly a sophisticated women's hand.

"Dear Joshua,
We hereby inform you of the passing of your father Mr. Walter S. Maugham and give you our condolences. Being Mr. Maugham's sole heir you are now in possession of his estate in Newport and a sum of $3,568,000. Should you choose to accept this offer you are to inherit Mr. Maugham's title of Earl. Please bring this letter to the ferryman and depart with haste as soon as you have made your decision.

Thank you and kind regards!"

I paused for a long while and couldn't think to laugh or cry. If it was true, after twenty-six years… I had an answer. I had a father and a history. The most painful thought was the fact that there had been people who knew about my existence? After all this time and the struggles I had gone through, I was forgotten by choice! This led to so many questions and pain, why was he so ashamed of me? I didn't want to go, I didn't want to be a pampered little Prince with staff enough to wipe my buttocks and money to bathe in, but I needed answers more than anything - even if it led to humiliate me. Forgetting Arthur was there I leaped off m ledge and grabbed all my possessions off the floor, the sheets and in the cupboard. There was only one issue; I had no bag. I frowned and placed my hands on my hips knowing the only answer and connecting my poor behaviour to the fact that my family and shoved me in the back of their closet. I shoved past the old courier and out onto the streets, through the winding alley and to the main path of vendors and shoppes. I knew the right place and waltzed my way over to the fabric shoppe. The keeper gave me a grim look and shook his head at me, I didn't exactly have the best reputation.
"Good afternoon, charming shoppe you have… I like the colours here… Oh this nice, yes I think this will be a good fit." I buzzed around him making exclamations of how fantastic various fabrics and garments were as I slid my hand into the handles of a thick cloth bag which I then turned to the side and called out "Oh, I forgot to put out the fire, thank you again!" before I darted out the door and back to the hole I came from before he could bellow at me or catch my tail. Fortunately Arthur was long gone by the time I had gotten back and I loaded up my bag with my belongings. I didn't fret to say goodbye or explain where I was going for fear of it all being a prank and thus I walked out the door and headed for the dock. It was a long and dull walk, I watched the farmers tend their crops of wheat, canola, and barley. I always figured that would be a peaceful life aside from the fact that it's monotonous labour and your hands will chap and tear. As I walked I kept repeating it to myself,
"Earl Joshua Maugham…"
I couldn't help but feel sick at the thought, my whole life I was plain and simple orphan Joshua Lowesly. I was given my surname by the priest - it was the name of the nun who had found me and agreed to be in charge of me and she certainly did a poor job with me being thrown out and all.After forty minutes of walking down a shabby dirt path I saw the sea and there sat a dock with a plump man in a simple suit. Quickening my pace I shot the man a grin.
"G'day! I have…. oh, mmm." I couldn't find the letter and I was furious - did I walk all this bloody way to chat up a fat old man? Alas, I found it crumpled into a piteous ball in a pocket of the bag. I flushed slightly and waved it around foolishly.
"This, uh, I believe you know about this… thing?" I passed over the crumpled sheet and scratched the back of my head. He grumbled to himself, looked at me with a quirked eyebrow and gestured to the boat without a word. I clambered on board and adjusted myself onto the plank of wood. He untied the boat and off we went. I'd never seen the ocean before and I was rather bewildered by the vastness of it. Over time I eventually could see shapes beneath the boat and the world of the sea came to a reality for me. The waves were gentle as the day and still the sun shone onto my cheeks and shoulders. You could smell the salt and and above us gulls screamed and swooped below grabbing themselves a meal. I watched the waves lap against the boat, softly brushing the edges. I took in the sounds of the paddle dipping in the waves and the occasional leap of a fish. Time seemed to slow as we paddled for a good few hours in the primitive boat - I searched the horizon for land and saw only sea, feeling so small and vulnerable. I felt lucky for the weather as I imagined the possibility of a storm engulfing the speck of the boat that we were floating in the arms of the capricious sea. Before I knew it we reached land. The world was an entirely different place, the grass was literally greener and you could see the sculpting of hedges and tending of flowers was prominent. There were no dirt roads; rather, gravel paths and the transportation seemed to be wagons and carriages rather than a dilapidated horse or the wills of your own callouses, bloodied feet. Finally the pudgy ferry driver spoke,
"Hail yourself a wagon and tell them you're headed to the Maugham estate."
I walked aimlessly down a gravel path for some time before I encountered a wagon and it was full. I was confused and particularly annoyed but I dare say the country here was rather beautiful. The farmers were bulkier than the farmers I had know. There was a healthy glow to their skin that suited their looks of labour. Some streets smelled of roses and some of lavender as I walked I saw more wealth around every corner. Some streets I passed had silver arches and gilded plaques with fancy names, Montgomery, Rothchilde and others equally fanciful. I figured if I wandered long enough I may find this fabulous Maugham estate as I was in no luck with empty wagons. At this point I had passed three all with shrouded curtains signifying that they were occupied. The walk was pleasant, I took in the lavish surroundings; stark white columns, gabled roofs, fields of lavender and swooping oak trees, some even had swings and horses trotting in courted areas. I eventually sat down and filled my pipe and smoked for fifteen minutes. Even still, no empty wagon passed by and I figured the man had took me for a fool. However, when I stood up and put my pipe away I turned to my left and I saw a gold plated sign with cursive letters scrolled M-A-U-G-H-A-M. I chuckled to myself over my good fortune and walked through the stone gate. There was a vast scaling land with emerald green grass and weeping willows tickling the floor. Rabbits bounded past into a patch of Mums. In front of me lay a winding gravel path and at the end towered a grand chestnut house. The sides hugged the edges in cylindrical form and topped with pointed black roofs. By the double doored entrance two bay windows were robbed in velvet curtains and the deck circled the entire length of the house. The steps were sided by thick gates with rounded bobbles atop every post. The closer I got I noticed the lattice detailing on the edges of the front and on the lattice ivy vines felt down framing the door and windows. I knocked and presented by letter to which I was greeted with a "Welcome home, Master Maugham" Inside was just as richly furnished with lion-legged chestnut stools, a grand piano in the corner of the sitting room and fabulous oil paintings to which one I hoped was of my Father. A maid ran down the steps which too were covered in luscious red carpets, she grabbed my hand as she shook her head feverishly. I was guided into the boudoir which was carpeted in the same thick red carpet with matching drapes. The bed had four posts and a canopy with gold filigree edges and a darker wine red for sheets. There was a large chestnut armoire with carvings of fig leaves and celtic notes, a lion-legged desk with matching fig leaves carved into it's legs. Every piece bore a thick lacquer that shone like a brilliant gem. Without a word the maid threw three outfits onto the bed. One with a long buttoned coat, golden filigree edges of a smoky blue colour, the pants were of a smoked blue and fitted. It was finished with a cream blouse that had loosely draped sleeves and a gentle wave of lace ruffles around the neck. A matching vest os smokey blue with excessive gold detailing finished the suit. Beside that lay an emerald green coat with a filigree pattern of black sewn into the coat; instead it was paired with tan pantaloons and black knickers - simple and fitted. The blouse for the green coat was simple, white with a pointed collar- gold edges on the cuffs of the arms and the edges where the buttons met. Lastly, there lay a ruby collared coat with belled sleeves, the edges were gold and the gold was found sewn into various little patches in an ornate design. The collar was tall and rounded in an almost Shakespearean fashion, this outfit had ruby pants with a thin ribbing down the outer region of the leg and golden buttons at the ankles. The blouse was white with matching belled cuffs and one unimpressive frill around the neck. The smoked blue coat caught my eye and I reached to put it on but she slapped my hand and dragged me to the bathroom where she pointed to the tub. I figured she must think me to be dirty and so she continued to busy about heating the water while I undressed. I stood there buck naked unnecessarily for it took her a good while to gather everything up. When I would bathe at home I would just kick off my knickers and hope in the lake, splashing about until I figured I was slightly less grimy then call it a day. When the maid had finished she had brought over a bar of soap, a scrubbing brush, a file, a toothpick and a comb. I spent a good time relaxing in the hot water and scrubbing my aching bones. It felt amazing, I can't remember the last time I bathed; if that's what you called my lake excursions. My beard was scruffy and my nails were tarnished. Together the nameless maid and I fixed both of these problems with a vicious scrub on my nails, she worked the toothpick under my nails and filed their jagged edges until they had a perfect gentlemanly appearance; sparkling and smooth with a fine edge. With a sharp knife I tailored my beard. I didn't want to look like a tramp nor did I want to look like a boy so I kept half an inch on my chin and surrounding my lips in a Don Quixote fashion. I examined my hair which curled softly around my jawline and shrugged; it was good enough. After my makeover I moved onto what was now my bedroom and changed into the smokey blue outfit and paired in with navy blue shoes. It fit well and I figured my Father must have been a small man too. I stared in the mirror at the reflection of my transformation and felt taken aback. I was tall, muscular and clean. I looked like a true gentlemen; one who was worthy of the title "Earl Maugham". Could a life like this really be possible outside of fairy tales? Within a day I had transformed from a street rat who hadn't had a hot bath a day in his life… to an Earl with his own acreage and a vast supply of maids and hot water.
In my pondering I heard the door answered and before I had a moment of time to sit and enjoy the luxury I had my butler come running to me with… another letter.

[Cafe Kitty]

xxx

Camilla, having never once ventured out to sea before, was regretting her excitement for it. She never imagined just how foul the sea would smell, or how roughly the ship would rock, even at night, tossing her from her bed in the midst of sleep. It was a long journey from the port of Newhaven to Valencia, where the crew would stop to gather supplies and drink in the tavern. Despite solid land being right outside her doorstep, Camilla could not gather the strength to step foot out of her cabin and into the salty air, lest she vomit once more.
From Valencia to Newport it took another few days, and despite it being a shorter voyage, the days felt elongated more than ever. As she lay in her stiff bed, staring at the wall and praying to Pluvia for it to end, she thought of her father as she last saw him: bent like a hunchback, wringing his hands with worry as his last family member left him. She could not swallow the guilt, so instead she turned her mind to other things. 'Just how large is this palace? Just who might be there?' She pictured an enormous feat of architecture, crafted solely from gold, with spiraling towers that broke through the clouds and a dome made of diamond. Camilla laughed quietly to herself at such an impossible creation, though it would be nice if that were to be her new home.
Eventually the days passed and one early morning she was awoken by a crew member as the ship had finally docked. With unrestrained excitement she gathered her things and head out onto the deck, marveling at the industrial cityscape that was the heart of Newport. Beggars, children, and gentlemen alike all congregated here, going about their business in complete ignorance of each other. Her heart seemed to swell as her shoes met solid earth, and she pressed her hands together in prayer as she glanced upwards at the cloudy sky.
From port she took a carriage, the slight rocking motion created by the horses' haunches making her feel nauseous once again. However, she was too busy taking in her surroundings to give it much care, her heart racing as she counted each step that took her closer and closer to the palace she had only seen in her dreams. She imagined all the handsome gentlemen, beautiful ladies, and awe-inspiring garments of silk and brocade she was bound to see.
After what felt like fifty years, the carriage drew up to the palace. The coachman came to the door and offered his hand, but she was too busy staring through the curtains to notice. The palace was captivating, to put it into simpler words. Camilla felt like her heart had given birth, and this child stood before her as a tangible object. Nothing could have been more beautiful or more hopeful to her, and she was sure she would remember this first impression for the rest of her life.
After an "Ahem!" from the coachman, she eagerly took his hand and allowed herself to be lead to the large front gates. As they approached, she began to feel conscious of herself, and for the first time moved her focus away from the grandeur of the palace and towards her current situation. Her skin was raised and bumped, and the cold nipped at her through her simple cotton dress. Three ladies in the courtyard who stood fanning themselves in the corner were giggling and whispering to each other, and as Camilla passed by she heard "Why, is she wearing a shift dress?", spoken with a scandalous tone.
She began to take quick paces as the coachman passed her off to a lady servant who, sensing her feelings of inferiority, rushed her to her quarters with an understanding glance. As she entered the room, Camilla was met with a large basin with two maid-girls standing on either side. "Good afternoon, m'lady." They greeted with unmistakable Newport accents, curtsying as they both glanced up at her under their caps. She looked from them to the servant, who gave her a reassuring smile and told her that this was customary for all royal guests, and that these two girls would be her personal maids from here on.
The maids stripped her of her clothing, one pausing to admire the hand-sewn lace as the other guided her to the washtub. Camilla learned that the taller, older one was named Mary, and the younger girl was Josephine. Both were from inner Newport, the exact area she had docked. Well, that would explain their accents.
The water was steaming with warmth and garnished with pink and red rose petals. It was unlike any other water she had bathed in before; back home in Hillford, baths were quick, cold, and to the point, only ever enough to wash the sweat from your shoulders on a hot day. Camilla could feel her body begin to relax, and the aches and nausea from her journey began to fade.
"Say, have you seen any of the guests who have arrived?" Josephine asked Mary, who looked aghast at her forwardness in front of the viscountess. Camilla flashed her a smile, her good humor returning as she began to feel at ease in the soapy waters.
"No, do go on. I am curious, myself."
As the two maids washed her, they regaled her with tales of all the humorous guests they had seen - the gentleman who dropped his hat, and tripped over himself trying to pick it up; the lady who flaunted her beautiful blonde locks about the courtyard, only to have the wind reveal her short burnt hair beneath her wig; a man who at first glance seemed handsome, only to make all the ladies scowl as he passed, reeking of fish. Camilla purred with laughter at the last story as Mary massaged her scalp in the most delightful way.
After she had been washed, the maids patted her down with a soft, fluffed towel and combed an ointment through her hair before braiding it. They led her to a seat in the corner, where they instructed her to place her hands on the pillows located on either side, and her feet on the stool before her. She looked at them with questions in her eyes, but Mary reassured her. "You are a viscountess in the court of the King, and we must make you look like one, my lady." The began to cleanse under her fingernails, and applied a cream to her hands which would apparently soften them. Josephine ground a mortar and pestle with a look of deep concentration, and when Camilla inquired as to what it was, she informed her that it was the powder of a certain flower which would dye her nails a brilliant pink.
"Ah, well, go on then. And put some on my lips, too, won't you?"
After her hands were softened with creams, her nails cleansed, filed, and covered in the coloring poultices, the ladies turned their attention to her face. They applied a pearl-colored cream across her skin, and Josephine began to grind another powder, this time black. "What is this for?"
"It is to color your eyelashes and brows." Responded Mary.
"Yes, you know, you are quite pale for a lady from the Continent." Josephine said with a look of curiosity, but Camilla only laughed in response.
So they dyed her hairs, and curled her lashes with a strange and sticky glue, colored her lips with a deep rose powder, and washed the poultice from her nails to reveal that they were, indeed, a brilliant pink. After all this time had passed, her hair had dried, and as the ladies unfurled her now wavy hair from its braid, Camilla stared at her reflection with wonderment. She truly did look like a lady of the court!
It was time to dress again, but Camilla looked at her previous outfit with disdain. She went to her closet and rummaged through her beloved collection of dresses, now appearing base and hideous, and selected something more ornate. It definitely did not compare to the ladies she had seen in the courtyard, but it was all she had to make due with before she would be able to visit the tailors in the coming days. She rummaged through her collections of personal effects and gathered a pair of gloves with ruffled chiffon, a shawl of the same material, a large white parasol, and the most ornate hat she could find. Her ladies dressed her, excitedly looking over the details of such exotic clothing and chatting eagerly with each other as she left the room and entered into the hallway.
Camilla was glad that she had left such an agreeable impression towards her handmaidens, and smiled to herself in delight. However, the small feeling of joy quickly gave way to anticipation and nerves as she looked up and down the ornate hallway, wondering to herself which way she should head.

[Sugary Parfait]

A rich scent of lilies wafted from a tan parcel. Around the edges a rose ribbon was knotted delicately,
" I believe it's from the King, Master Maugham. Make hast, it may be urgent."
I unknotted ribbons and lifted the flap. Inside there lay the scented sheet of paper. Scrolling of gold ink lined the page is voluptuous fashion.
"The Crown does request the honor of your presence
at the royal palace of Newport for the fiftieth Celebration of Affinity
and the proper arrangement of their marriages thereafter.
Please embark immediately upon passenger ship to arrive
in Newport no later than the seventh of August.

Signed and authorized under the power of His Royal Highness, The King."
So there I stood, with an invitation to the royal palace after having not a day in this new life. I scratched my chin in bewilderment and eventually felt the vibration of a daft chuckle.
"Is it of my concern, Master Maugham?"
The butler stood at ease with one arm neatly tucked behind his back. He looked into my eyes for instruction and I thought of how fabulous it would be to have my very own manservant cleaning up my toils and troubles and thus I had a brilliant idea - let's make this adventure a party!
"Well, my friend… we're going on a vacation of sorts."
I leaned back and flashed a smirk, the butler stared apathetically - unimpressed by my body language.
" You see, the King is having a gathering of sorts. Affinity or what have you, and I think it'd be rather gay if you and the lovely lady and I go on a little journey of sorts. What do you say, huh?"
"I really don't believe that to be necessary, my Lord."
I could sense discomfort in the air, there was some social debasement that I had done and really I hadn't a clue of what it ought to me. I saw this as no discouragement and persisted regardless.
"I insist! I dare say you are to be at my beck and call, have you not? Let us gather my wardrobe and be on our way. We shan't keep the King on his toes."
There was a grumble and a shifting of feet but within moments the three of us were busy. The maid shuffled through the armoire gathering outfits. She examined the collars and cuffs for scuffs and folded every piece neatly on the bed. My butler knelt down picking up shoes and adding them to the quickly accumulating mountain on the bed. Myself? I stood in awe of my handiwork, watching the busy bees tending to my commands. There was a sick pleasure I found in ordering around another human being. Not for a moment in my dreams had I ever imagined I'd have such a privilege. In the pile there was silks to shame the Emperor of China, cotton that the Americas should envy and leather to make Italians salivate. Some of the garments I hadn't even seen worn on the streets of my home. A man in gloves? A cap with fine ruffles of feather? To think of the cost that importation would demand gave me a chill and a lust for larger and grander possessions. Ah the life of a sinner, 'twas the life, indeed. When all was said and done the butler pulled out a large leather case and the two worked in harmony to neatly stack each article into the case. They strung together the tie and waited on my orders. While I sat at home I contemplated my position as I felt the spasm of hunger pains pulling in my gut.
" May I have myself a bite to eat before we journey?"
The two nodded in synchronization and exited the boudoir. I hadn't seen the pantry nor the dinning hall and figured I ought to explore before I departed from home for however long such a festivity would take place. Down the stairs I noted three oil paintings, one of a rosy-cheeked lady with a large bosom and long curling brown locks. The gentlemen in the photo too bore curled brown locks and a sinister brow. Father..? Mother…? If only I could reach into the photo, live the moment and find the answers. The woman looked to be his sister more than a lover and the two embraced in a platonic and distant half hug. I continued on my way and found myself in the dinning hall. The room had the same matching drapes; heavy red velvet that let in little light and led to the room feeling sullen and cramped. I wasn't sure I enjoyed my Father's choice in decor. In the centre of the room there was an oak table with curve some legs; in the grain chubby cherubs held lyres and a touch of gold highlighted their winged figures. Atop the middle a delicate stitching of jade fabric sprawled with a golden candelabra in the centre. Everything was so heavy and gaudy, it seemed gentlemen in New Port took advantage of every opportunity to showcase their wealth. Every room was a means to brag and gloat on your possessions. Part of me wanted to hop the next boat and go back to the hole in the ground I once haunted. I sat at the head of the table and waited to be served; I figured that was how it was done with the wealthy. In no time I was served cold goose, fresh bread and salted tomato. I had never eaten a tomato before. It was juicy like a peach with the earthy taste of a pepper. The goose was moist and rich with fat, I felt I could devour the whole breast without a bead of sweat and nearly did. After my meal there was time dedicated to tidying the table and filling of the carriage. I had the privilege of owning my own carriage. It was cream with golden edges, inside the seats were heavy leather and even the floor of the carriage was carpeted. I sprawled in the back; half lying across the seat. When the maid entered she stared at me aghast and I could hear her gasp under her breath.
" Live a little, darling!" I guffawed at her proudness and off we went.
The ride was bumpy and unpredictable. I watched as the landscape developed every mile; there seemed to be trends among the gardening tactics among home owners. Some preferred lilacs, some lavender. Some had many alm trees and others had a single willow. The sun blazed brilliantly as the horse galloped on and as time passed I fell asleep. I was awoken by the gentle shake of the butler.
" We have arrived, my Lord."
The palace was dazzling. Looming towers, extravagant gardens and in the distance I even saw an orchard. This was a place of dreams. The silent maid gathered my bags and the butler vanished to park the carriage. When we got to the door we rattled a broad gold knocker and were greeted by the palace butler with two male servants.
"Oh dear…"
I heard the maid mutter at last.
"Welcome, may I have your letter ser?"
Here we go again with this letter business. I laughed to cover up my short coming - but to my good fortune the maid handed him a crisp and nearly folded letter.
"Ahh, Earl Maugham. We're delighted to have you. Gregory and Frederic shall guide you to your quarters."
I suppose this was the reason my servants were distraught with my idea of us trekking together.
"The more the merrier!"
I coiled an arm around the maid and she awkwardly shifted away from my grasp as we walking down a marble hallway. Corridor after corridor we walked for a good while before the two young lads opened a tall oak door and guided me inside. The carpets were soft, thick navy blue. The wallpaper had a pattern of gold ornate symbols draped along it's length. There was a heavy layer of cherry wainscotting. The bed was like my own; four posts with a canopy. The bed was cream with gold accents, a thick duvet covered the bed to the floors. My maid busied herself with hanging my clothing in the armoire.
"Shall we prepare you for the day, Earl Maugham?"
"How do you mean?"
"A bath and skin treatment, Master"
Thinking I ought to soak up the best treatment I could have I shrugged.
"Let's get on with it, shall we!"
The two worked together to undress me and when finished they worked on heating a bath. One man added herbs to the bath - it smelled of myrrh and cinnamon. I sat in the steaming water and boy I assumed to be Gregory combed a soap into my hair which wafted a smell of sandalwood into the air. I closed my eyes and let them pour buckets over my shoulder, rinsing the soap. When the bath was finished they massaged a cream onto my hands that tingled like a mint leaf and softened my skin. My nails and beard were left as I had kept them and with one final combing my hair too was left to it's natural desire; hugging my jawline. I redressed and the gentlemen stood near the door.
"The day is yours, my Lord."
" May you guide me to the stable, Frederic?"
The young boy nodded swiftly and he opened the oak doors. The rest of the servants relaxed and began to busy themselves with simple activities such as needle work and dusting the neglected corners of the room.
He walked nimbly ahead of me down another hallway with sprawling marble floors. I spotted similar doors and wondered how many people were staying for the festival. And for a moment I wondered if the fairer sex would be found. At the end of a hall was a double-door of glass with a gravel path guided by oak trees. Frederic opened the door and nodded his head to the left. I exited first and he followed; quickly retaking me. There was a gilded gate surrounding a field of emerald green lawn. I saw the most gorgeous mare; she was pure white with a braided blonde tail. I didn't wait for Frederic to guide me, I entered at my own will and walked her way. She stood calmly and let my hand graze her forehead.
"There you go girl, easy."
Noticing my attention Frederic joined me with a stout saddle; it was black with golden trim and two tassels on opposing ends of the front. I eagerly leapt atop and allowed the mare to guide me. It was bliss; it was the first time I'd been on a horse I hadn't stolen. Fancy that?

[Cafe Kitty]

xxx

Despite her shyness, Camilla was feeling more empowered by her cosmetic transformation and slight change of clothes. She took a tentative step forward before heading in a random direction; since she didn't know the layout of the palace, she would take it upon herself to learn it today, to avoid future embarrassment.
The halls seemed to be decorated by women; draperies of blue, gold, red, silver all adorned their gorgeous dresses and as they stood in their small groups, fanning themselves and chatting with feminine excitement, Camilla could not help picturing them as statues meant for adornment. She continued past them, thankful for the cover their extravagant outfits provided, though envious all the same.
Sunlight slanted through the large windows, beckoning her to the outside. It dawned on her all at once that she was no longer restricted to stay indoors, and with a small leap of joy, she grasped her skirts in one hand and raced down the empty hallway, her heels clicking against the glossy floor as she went. Hurrying down a small stairwell to the ground floor, she slowed her pace to an excited trot as she passed by various important-looking people who were milling about.
Pushing open the doors of her cage with joyous ferocity, Camilla took her first steps into the lush green grass that brushed against her ankles beneath her dress. Looking up, she realized she had come across an orchard, and let out a quiet squeal of glee. Now forgetting where she was, or who she was meant to impress, she kicked off her shoes and headed to the shade of an apple tree. Before she could rest, however, she needed something sweet to satisfy her.
Looking left and right, and seeing that she was alone, she took up her parasol in her right hand and glanced up at the tree. Dangling just out of arm's reach was a ripe and juicy apple that made her salivate just by its looks. Holding her parasol with both hands, she geared back and struck it as hard as she could. The apple flew off the tree and landed just a few feet from her, and she let out a laugh as she retrieved her conquest from its bed of grass.

[Sugary Parfait]

Through a meadow of jade the mare and I strode blithely. With the wind combing my hair I was at ease. The skylarks sang and the sun warmed my cheeks. I guided her over a slopping hill where she halted to a trot. The grass grew taller and trees were sparsely populated. I hopped down and stroked her hide, calming her and letting her sense that she could do as she pleased. From here I walked further through the fields. Slowly the grass grew and blossoms of daisies speckled the floor. I found a patch of grass and threw myself to the ground laying there as it tickled my cheeks and hands. It smelled sweet like the remains of fresh dew and the sprigs of new growth with a touch of dirt. Above clouds drifting by lazily. I let my eyes wander spotting shapes among the clouds, like a child I watched as a dog flew by and a boat to boot. There was a certain ease that had let go of the tensions built up in my body. I wasn't afraid of starving nor was I worried about keeping my place to sleep. I was a wealthy man with a certain entitlement bestowed upon him. For goodness sake I had the privilege of commanding a flock of servants to my every beck and call. Just this morn' I'd devour half a duck and a large slice of fresh baked bread from my very own pantry. The same meal a day before I'd have had to sweet talk and swindle my way into sneaking it into the pockets of my pants or otherwise. I shut my eyes in the moment and pondered on these very thoughts left to my own devices in a healthful field of emerald green. I had my hands on the beauties of the world I held most dear. All I needed was my voice to command so and "Yes, my lord" would resound!
Standing up I felt my head spin and with four fingers combed my hair finding blades of grass and specks of dirt. I glanced around for the mare and found myself abandoned and quite alone. It would be some time before I reached the stable again so I made haste for shade. It was cool and calming to my cheeks after having been blasting by the sun. The birds cooed louder as I walked beneath their perch and rustling in the bushes increased. I strayed from the beaten path and found the grounds to be rich with game. I imagined the sport that could be had darting between the Alms, rifle in hand with bloodhounds at our sides. The rabbits were plump and would make a scrumptious meal and I spied the foot prints of foxes and envisioned myself and grand hunting parting snagging the little wander. Then I would hurry to the palace and present the game to a blushing lady in red and she'd praise my gallantry vehemently. I'd take her hand and kiss it passionately and in the evening we'd dance until the sun rose once more. However, it was all a thing of fantasy and truly I hadn't even known if there were young men and women her; my luck, it'd be a party of elderly and I… having the fortune of a late Father would be at the head of a table much too big for my age and class. What shall they do when they realize I haven't a clue of what is or how to use a desert fork? As my wonderings passed so did time and I found myself nearing the palace. I came from a new direction and quickly found myself lost among a maze of hedges where I couldn't seem to find a start or an end and it really was quite troublesome. When it came time for me to figure myself out I exited and walked through the doors.
The hall appeared much the same as any other with a long train of marbled floors and twin oak doors one after another all much alike the first. The main problem was that I couldn't find a hand to assist me nor did I know where in this massive building I was. When at last I reached a central room that I figured to be hopeful. I looked above and there stood a giant crystal chandelier. It was ablaze with a glow from the flickering fires cast from the candles within. I couldn't fathom the cost of that amount of candles that lit this piece of work. Behind the crystal a mural of oil covered the sky. There were winged maidens and plump cherubs, men with lutes and lyres, a lady on horseback and one with harp. Clouds coated the ground and in every corner delicate knots of finely painted gold framed the paintings.
"May I help you, my lord?"
I jumped nearly a foot when approached by an unfamiliar young lady. She was of a buxom figure with flushed, rotund cheeks and a fine Greek nose. I thought her rather pretty and yet I wondered that I should be ashamed and put into place of my alien new role within the world.
" Yes, my dear, I believe I've gotten myself lost."
Her cheeks darkened and my eyes cast down lustily as her bosom bounced ever so slightly as she giggled gayly at my pet name.
"Where might you wish to be going, my lord?"
"Wherever you planned on going."
I paused and having realized what I said laughed obnoxiously and kicked the ground beneath me.
"Hmm… forgive my jest. I'd like to see the gardens."
She stared with her mouth agape at my lewdness and rapidly walked away with a tick tack of her lifted shoes carrying her down the halls. I wondered at the minds of the busy bodied servants and for that very matter the lord and lady of the house themselves. The space was so unneeded and really only resulted in confusion when one is looking for this room or that and finds himself in halls so very identical he hasn't the slightest idea of where he ought to be.
She and I winded around what seemed to be corner after corner before I found there to be some identities between corridors with a minute variance between the colour of the walls when really it was the wainscotting in stark white that made it out to be all quite the same. At the end of a new hall there was a wall heavily windowed and outside blossomed apple trees bestowed a preview of what may lay out of the doors.
"May I be of further assistance, my lord?"
With a suave smile and ignorance of the past I shook my head and let the little dove be on her way and hopefully forgive and forget the impostor that I was. I exited slowly and immediately you could smell the freshness of the air. A soft melody fill the branches and beckoned me to venture further. I believe it was the merry song of a Nightingale. To my left was a strain of trees, they swayed to and fro like old friends resting on one another for an ease in tension. I waltzed down the marbled steps and heard the critch, crunch the gravel path. To the right was a picture perfect rose garden filled with buzzing bees. I felt remorseful for having not requested a lunch as my appetite too seemed to have already become accustomed to this new life and I absolutely could eat a fresh cucumber sandwich or if I was lucky corned beef on a fresh piece of toast.
Continuing to my right I ran my hands through the rose bush - it was like a game to see how long I could slide my hands along the length without cutting my finger. I found that around the corner there was another, if not the same, maze of hedges though this one seemed taller still. I walked inside and cast an eye to my left and right before I quickened my pace and ran gayly around the bends. Did children feel so carefree when they ran with one another in a game of tag? All at once I found myself in the centre where a fountain stood. A small chickadee danced in the tree and called to me.
"Hello little lad!"
I hollered in response, but when I reached a cloying hand into the stream he was gone and away all at once. The water was cool and clean and I laughed in spite of the fact that the bird who bathed here bathed cleaner than I had once before. I found my fun well and done as I navigated around the deceiving twists and turns of the maze. As I left I wondered in the opposite direction toward the apple trees. It was an easy stretch to grab a shining red gem and with a vicious bite the juice dribbled down my chin. With less manners than a tramp and didn't lift a finger to wipe it off and continued through the trees. I spotted a young man with a hoe tilling at the earth.
"Are you a servant, my boy?"
"No ser… well, yes ser but not of fetching. I'm a gardener ser."
I scoffed and bite another wild bite into the apple. It was about the time in the afternoon in which I was accustomed to having a drink or six and the idea of corned beef began to grow on me as the minutes passed. However it wasn't a slight that would remain and I continued passed the timid boy. I walked through more apple trees before coming to a clearing where I spotted a charming sight. There I witness a very slight young women who seemed quite in awe of her sights and the sounds, in her hand she held the daintiest of parasols and why… the little devil striked an apple with such a feminine of tools. Her laughter was sweet and innocent and I figured her to be just barely a women. I considered imposing my brutish presence upon her and against my better judgement made my way in her direction. With another loud crunch! on my apple I stood a good metre away.
"I do believe we play croquet with mallets not parasols… and even still, it ought to be on the ground!"

[Cafe Kitty]

xxx

"I do believe we play croquet with mallets, not parasols… and even still, it ought to be on the ground!"
Camilla gasped, nearly dropping her prize as a voice rang out through the trees behind her. Startled, she turned round to face the source, only to be met with an unknown man quite a distance away. Despite that, she could sense he was strange, oafish even... she looked him up and down without apology, squinting as she attempted to ascertain just who he was and how to address him. He was clothed like a very rich man indeed, but his lithe stature, his thin voice, his challenging stance towards her all read... 'commoner! And just who might he be, to speak to me in such a manner?'
She puzzled over him for just a second longer before responding. "Yes... ser, that may be so. But perhaps I was inventing a new sport of my own." A small grin crossed her face, pleased with her own wit. "It's quite satisfying, and you'll find the reward much better than any trophy. I implore you to try it. Yes, be the first to test my game."
She waved him towards her, offering out her parasol as she took the first bite of her apple, then the second, then third... Camilla had not realized just how long she had gone without food during her sickening voyage, and now found herself ravaged with hunger. "Yes, well, come on." She called to him, her focus returning once more to the task at hand, waving the object impatiently in his direction.
She took another moment to look him over in the distance; he did not retain any of the signature qualities she had learned of the noble families and, despite her attempts, she simply could not imagine him belonging to any house. She would have simply assumed him to be a random noble with no significant name, but as he appeared to be within her age, she could only assume that he too was here for the Celebration of Affinity. Not only that, but the way he carried himself spoke of not only wealth, but entitlement. He did not fear the looming palace, nor hide within its shadows in consciousness of self. No, he spoke and walked as if he owned this land himself, and all else, including the very trees above them, were merely guests.
"Oh, dear me, I'm absolutely famished..." She spoke quietly under her breath, taking another greedy bite from her treat, and awaiting his approach, not once questioning her behavior towards this unknown man, or what reaction she may incite from him. By now she had completely forgotten the importance of giving a ladylike impression, or of how to properly interact with the gentlemen of the court. She was not attracted to his strange nature, and by that she determined that a union between them would not be considered by anyone, and therefore discarded the airs and traditions she had so dutifully learned back home.

[Sugary Parfait]

Even still in the awkwardly imposing predicament I found myself in the birds had no shame. A boisterous chickadee swooped in echoing his cries in the orchard and still the trees hugged on another two and fro so easily, gently in the breeze. I examined the dainty little figure, she was between the ages of 14 to 17 judging my her face. Her eyes were that of a doe; bright, curious and imploring. Her lips reminded me of two petals with the smooth edges and suppleness touched with a hint of pink. She had smooth cheeks with a healthy rosy glow that reminded me of the young women in the prime of their youth from the orphanage. It was a time I'd feel so at peace left to my own devices as the young ladies would line up. Draped with simple cream tunics with only the dressing of their curls to add decor. It was choir practice when I would see the sight and their voices seemed to cherubic it calmed the savage beast that I was. The times I would try and join in choir practice I was told I sang it all wrong and ruined the celestial essence of the hymn. I either sang too high or too low or couldn't remember the lyrics and it seemed the church had no love for an imperfect son of the Gods.
In my examination of the petite little dove she replied with a strength and assurance that she was higher than I. She held a confidence that a Lady of stature would possess and her good breeding was prevalent.
"Yes… see, that may be so. But perhaps I was inventing a new sport of my own."
I took the time to munch away on the little red gem I had gathered earlier before responding to her pleas and quite frankly I couldn't decipher if this was a wealthy lady's means of condescending upon me or if she truly was interested in jest and game. It was the haughty undertone that led me to believe she was belittling my and my oafish composure and yet there was a restraint from outright debasing me and she added to her defence.
"It's quite satisfying, and you'll find the reward much better than any trophy. I implore you to try it. Yes, be the first to test my game."
Was this bait for my dim wits? I couldn't resist the opportunity for general chaos nor for any sort of rough play I had the chance of partaking in. However, I gave it a moments thought and in the mean time bit another chunk from the apple and another before it had vanished into merely a core and undesirable pieces left around the stem and base. My fingertips glistened in the sun with a sticky haze from the juices of the apple and I figured my chin looked about the same as I could feel the bristles of my beard laden with a residue of liquid. Careless for what the lady thought I gave the core a last parting look and tossed it as far as I could throw. There really was always room for the little pleasures in life.
" That was a good one, it nearly hit the moon I dare say!"
I bumbled about after chortling to myself over my dashing apple toss and with a swift swipe of my fingers on the thick brocade pantaloons I walked closer. Then I paused half way and remembered my beard to which I merely swiped my hand across the length of my mouth and again on my pantaloons. I cast my eyes away from her sight, not in any mood
"Yes, well, come on."
"Jolly good plan, though it really isn't terribly becoming of such a finely bred young lady as yourself."
I prodded at her daringly in hopes that I may find some answers on who she was and why she was here. Affinity? And at that moment I thought perhaps… perhaps this was indeed a festivity of youth and I wasn't caught in a trap of an elderly meeting of opposing attitudes and glum replies.
I grabbed the delicate tool she had and for a single moment I felt remorse at what I was about to do with it, but that quickly passed when I figured how fun it ought to be. I shuffled about before I found the appropriate stance and lifted my arms in the perfect form of a young cricket prodigy. I gave a few test swings and in for the final blow I thrust my arms forward with much gusto.
Thwack!
The apple knocked clean off the tree and I was coated in droplets of juice and apple bits. My face turned a dull hue of red and only turned to a deeper rouge when I looked at the parasol which now looked like a fruit salad with the flecks of apple and seed that now slid down the tip.
"Well… that's one way to not do it."
I gave a muffled laugh and scratched the back of my head anxiously with a spare hand while the other extended the now unbecoming parasol. I really don't know what I've gotten myself into and frankly I fear for the worst of the young maiden's response. Truly, the worst that could happen would be my ending up back where I had come from and I figured even a day of lavish clothes, hot baths and a plump goose were enough to keep me content. Perhaps I would run lucky and she'd be won over by my dashing good looks and devilish charm and pity the fool I was before wailing about the vexation I had inflicted.

[Cafe Kitty]

xxx

"Jolly good plan, though it really isn't terribly becoming of such a finely bred young lady as yourself."
Camilla snorted at the attempted flattery, handing him the parasol with impatience. "That's an awfully long way of saying 'I'm scared to lose to a girl'!" She teased, laughing all the while. Paying no mind to him at first, too distracted in the nectar of her fruit, she jumped when she heard her beloved implement strike at the tree. She stared upwards in shock, as bits of apple cascaded down upon them like a strange form of precipitation.
"Well… that's one way to not do it." She heard as the defiled parasol was shoved back into her hands with the haste of anxiety. She looked it over, her eyes never decreasing in size as she inspected the dirty object. By now she had dropped her treat once more into the grass, holding onto her parasol with both hands as her eyes ran laps up and down its shaft.
Camilla looked up at the man with the same expression, inspecting every inch of him much more thoroughly than before, her eyes seeming to peek into every crevice of his body, her face never changing. She was unaware of his attempts to hide his shame, or his fear of her womanly wrath; all she could say was, "How... how did you do that?!"
She looked upon him with wonderment, a smile breaking out across her face as she burst into peals of laughter. "You are incredible! Just how did you accomplish such an impossible thing? I have never, in all my years of life seen such a thing..." she continued to marvel about his performance in her booming, humorous voice as she dropped the parasol in search of the violated fruit, scavenging across the grass, her back bent forwards, hands holding her hair back from her vision as her toes revealed themselves underneath the hem of her skirt, prodding at each small thing until it came across what she had been in search of.
"Oh, look at it, how splendid!" she cried, holding up the stem which was now only connected to a small piece of its core. "I have half a mind to accuse you of witchcraft, ser! Just how did you accomplish such an extraordinary feat? Oh, how I wish I had seen the impact with my own eyes!"

[Cafe Kitty]

Sunday, August 1ˢᵗ has come to a close! It is now Monday, August 2ⁿᵈ.
Feel free to continue, or theorize about, any events that have been cut short
in the OOC thread here.

[NoctusKnight]

Located in: Her room Feeling: Amused Accompanied by: Hannah Wearing: Outfit----

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❝ Lilliana turned over and groaned her frustration into her pillow when the tell tale sound of knuckles rapping on her door alerted her. Apparently her voice was loud enough to carry through the door because who ever stood behind it chuckled and only continued tapping on the wood. "Lily! Come on now. Get on up and come out here!" the person commanded despite the amusement in their voice. Lilliana groaned again raking her fingers through her hair angrily before getting to her feet and stomping over to the door. She pulled it open and leaned on the frame, crossing her arms and let a scowl grace her features. Huxley stood before her, a smile clinging to his aged face. The very man who'd delivered her twenty four years prior. Huxley could always lift Lilliana's spirits no matter how down she could be. It was like he knew everything about her. Then again, he practically raised her so it shouldn't have surprised her. "You done pouting in there?" he asked after a brief staring match. He pushed up his glasses and ran an old hand through his greyed hair, grinning like a school kid.

Lily rolled her eyes despite the smile crawling onto her face and dropped her gaze to the boards. She gave the tiniest of nods and the smile fell away from her face. Huxley noticed the shift and he reached out, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Lily wasn't a little girl anymore but sometimes all she needed was a hug a little reassurance from time to time. She buried her face in his neck and whimpered, tears pressing to the surface but she maintained what little dignity she had left and held them back. "I uh...I need a quick drink and I'll be on my way..." lily sighed as she pulled back. Huxley cocked a brow at her as if to say 'really? It's not even noon' but she shot a soft glare back before reaching up to smooth back her now disheveled tresses. "If I'm going to do this, I'm doing it my way," she stated, striding past him. "If they don't like it, then they shouldn't have invited me!" she tossed over her shoulder.

Lily and the crew had been docked for a few days, having arrived in Newport eight nights before. The young pirate had refused to leave the safety of the ship though in a last ditch attempt to avoid the reason they were there. Somewhere in her mind, she'd hoped if she'd stayed out of sight, her mother would forget all about the silly letter and let them leave. It wasn't going to happen of course but a girl could dream, couldn't she? Lily grumbled as she left the ship, taking her hair down from its usual windblown ponytail and let her tresses shape her face. Typically she'd have walked alone to her destination but Huxley wanted her to arrive to the palace safely so he sent one of the boys with her. Benjamin or Benny as he liked to be called offered his elbow to her, grinning playfully once they stepped off the ship. Lily looked him in the face, narrowed her eyes and playfully sneered before pushing him away and turning on her heels, heading for a little bar she frequented whenever they stopped in Newport. Benny panicked for a moment but he quickly gave chase, grabbing the two horses Huxley had arranged for them. Anything more than just horses and Lily would have thrown them both overboard. Lily and her mother held themselves to a certain standard but they were not ladies. Lily didn't pretend to be anything that she wasn't and a lady was certainly not what she was. Pirates weren't ladies; ladies weren't pirates. If ever there was a lady on her ship, it was because she was being held prisoner.

The rum was cheap and tasted like piss but it did its job and she didn't leave the establishment until her cheeks were nice and rosy, a great feat considering her complexion. From there, she and Benny mounted their horses and started for the palace. She was sure that they were quite the sight, two pirates approaching the palace. Perhaps they'd figure she was lost and turn them away from the gate so that she could return to the sea but sadly, that wish was too squashed. A young servant was waiting in the courtyard and though she seemed flustered or frightened of the two of them, she quickly approached. Before she could even think to offer Lily a hand, the pirate had jumped down from her horse and was already handing the reigns off to Benny. The boy dismounted his horse as well, taking both reigns in one hand and took one of her hands in the other. With a s**t-eating grin, he gave an over the top bow at the waist and kissed Lily's knuckles. Snickers grew into full blown roars of laughter and the two of them were soon gripping their sides in stitches. The poor servant looked down right terrified, unsure of what to do as the pirates shook with laughter. "I hope I'll see you again soon Lil," Benny said softly after he'd sobered and he gave her a small smile.

Lily's smile faded and her gaze fell again before she gave a curt nod. Benny turned away with the horses and with a sigh, Lily turned to the servant waiting patiently beside her. The look of perplexity on her face was enough to get the pirate giggling again but she held it in, not wanting to laugh at the mousy girl's expense. She allowed the servant to guide her into the palace and immediately Lily's eyes widened. She and her mother had traveled far and wide, witnessing many pleasures and relaxing in luxury but nothing like this. Briefly she was giddy at the thought of spending her nights there but it was soon replaced with distaste as they ventured further in. Every thing was too white and pristine, much too clean for her liking. She was contemplating knocking over a vase or two just to add some chaos to the place but the thought was cut short when the servant stopped. Lily blinked in mild confusion then turned to see another maid staring at her expectantly. With a quick glance around, she realized that she'd been lead to her chambers and her brows shot into her hairline. "M'lady, good morning," the maid greeted, gesturing her inside. Lily furrowed her brow at the room once inside then at the maid before her.

"Lilliana," she simply stated, watching as the maid's face screwed in confusion.

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Lilliana. Please call me Lilliana or Lily," the pirate replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"B-but m'lady, I can not address you by you-" the maid began but was cut off by Lily with a sharp hand gesture and a cutting glance.

"I am no lady. Please. Call me Lily. No one else has to know. I won't tell. Now, what it your name?" Lily asked the woman, plopping herself down on a settee in the room. She raised her arms and stretched out like a cat before staring at the maid, waiting for an answer. "Come on now. Out with it."

"Hannah," the maid replied, seeming to struggle with not saying 'm'lady' after her answer.

"That's a pretty name," Lily replied honestly, leaning up a bit. "Well then Hannah, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." The maid gave a small smile, her cheeks coloring a little and Lily gave her a warm smile of her own. Perhaps this wasn't going to be as bad that she'd initially thought. If she was going to lose her precious freedom then she was going to make the best of it and hopefully stir up some trouble along the way.

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If you're not making mistakes
Then you're not trying hard enough
If you haven't bled
Then you're not fighting hard enough_

____

[Cafe Kitty]

xxx

Camilla groaned as she was gently prodded, rolling over on the soft, fluffy mattress, her chocolate brown curls slipping loose from her sleeping cap as she did so. The prodding did not stop, and instead turned to shaking, as Josephine spoke softly to her. "Mistress Somerset, you must wake up. It's late morning already, almost the afternoon. My lady, please..." Camilla again groaned loudly as Mary ripped open the curtains, blinding her sleeping eyes with the strong summer sunshine. She half-sat up with a whimper, rubbing at her eyes and complaining under her breath.
Her excursion yesterday had left her sore and exhausted, and her maids found that she was not in the same good humor as yesterday as they helped her settle her aching bones in the hot bathwater. They washed her quietly as she hung her head forwards, lazily moving from left to right when they needed to reach to this area or that. Her legs and back felt like they were screaming at her for her giddiness in the orchard yesterday, and her shoulders ached in particular from swinging her parasol about like a child, intoxicated by nature's sweet breath.
Camilla's servants then seated her at her table and brought out her breakfast, which seemed far too much for a lady as petite as she. Various breads, meats, fruits, and even wine were laid out before her as if it were a miniature holiday feast. Had she any energy, she would have laughed giddily at such a gift, remembering the measly breakfasts of bread, butter, and milk she would endure back home. Regardless of her fatigue, her stomach growled with shocking vitality just at the mere sight of food, and she eagerly devoured it all in a short time. She felt a small amount of her strength and good nature return after her satisfying meal, her slight smile causing her handmaidens to visibly relax.
"Mary, I'll need an appointment with the tailor quite soon." Camilla said as her servants removed her from her nightgown and dressed her for the day, this time in a beige and gold outfit made from satin and chiffon, paired with lace gloves and a different parasol (as the parasol from the day before was being cleaned, of course - the fact that she was able to get away with such wanton destruction without so much as a frown pleased Camilla greatly.) "As the ball is this Saturday, I will need something appropriate to wear. In fact," she cast a forlorn glance at her pitiful closet, both maids following her gaze. "I will need quite a few things. Please go to the banks today and assess how much allowance my father has sent to me for this month." Just mentioning her father caused Camilla to feel a sensation in the pit of her stomach, something like guilt and misery combined. She wondered about him, what he was doing, what he was thinking, how he would pass his days now. She thought of when she might be able to see him next, if ever. Would her husband be kind enough to move to the Continent with her? Probably not. Would she be able to endure the journey there alone, just for a few months' visit? Probably not. The sensation grew stronger and for a moment tears stung her eyes, but she rolled her shoulders and sighed, taking a swig of the last few drops of her wine.
After her ladies had dressed her and styled her hair into curls, Camilla tied her bonnet beneath her chin and set out into the palace hallways once more, this time intent on studying the interior rather than the exterior - her aching legs still reminding her of yesterday's forgetfulness, and her heart still heavy with the topic she refused to address further.

[Sugary Parfait]

Alcohol had a vindictive sense of humour, the night prior I'd spent some time indulging in the pleasures of her bosom and here I lay with the all too familiar aftershock. My head pulsated violently and my stomach roared with a vile disapproval of my actions. I lumbered out of the duvet I'd been cocooned in and opened a hazy eye, then the next.All my limbs ached as I'd slept for days and I really didn't want to know precisely how long I slept and yet as I saw Frederic shuffling about I did indeed inquire.
"What is the hour?"
He jumped and rubbed his palms down the ends of his suit as if to clear them of sweat,
"Well it's one thirty, my Lord"
Blast, it was a quarter of the way into the afternoon and I lay here in only my knickers with disheveled hair. I nodded at Frederic as he stood at attention, waiting for orders.
"Do I have any liquor?"
"No, my Lord. You drank yourself to sleep last night. It's all gone."
I slapped a lethargic palm to my forehead and let out a dragging groan. I knew exactly where I'd begin the days journey at this point. By the hair of the dog, I always did say. It was the only real cure to a hangover. I pulled myself out of bed and stretched for a good long while, Frederic rushed to tidy the sheets on impulse. Pacing back and forth I gave livelihood to my sleepy limbs and while I did so Frederic gathered two outfits. Before me he presented a lilac goat with darker stripes throughout, it bore golden clasps on the cuffs and matching clasps at the front down the lapel. This outfit was paired with pantaloons and knickers of an antique cream with a matching blouse. The blouse had a richly ruffled collar and a single gold button in the centre of the ruffles. Having a disdain for the feminine colour I waved my hand to that one and by default was outfitted in gold. The coat was thinly striped yellow and gold with a thickly crossed collar. The short waist was buttoned with large fabric pieces. Beneath was a simple cream blouse merely high collared and french cuffed to be finished with a cleverly knotted gold ascot. The pantaloons were cream cotton and the knickers cream silk. The outfit was finished was antique white shoes. After finishing the touches on the ascot Frederic ran off to gather a toilette.
"Have a seat please, my Lord"
I did as he asked and patiently waited as he returned with a basket. Though today I did not bathe Frederic seemed to be determined to make me smell and look as though I had. He combed my hair neatly into a side parting and shaved the grisly corners of my chin. I was lathered into a richly scented sandalwood musk and he gave me a sprig of mint leaf to chew. While the lad busied away on making me look my finest I came into curiosity of my being in the palace.
"What is the Affinity, Frederic?"
"My Lord..."
He looked deeply ashamed by my ignorance and it took some time for him to come up with the answer.
"You are to be arranged in wedlock"
"I beg your pardon?"
It couldn't be... I simply couldn't be locked into the binds of marriage. I was young and had much I wanted to do. I hadn't even spent a day in my new home and to think I was supposed to return to it with a Lady on hand.
"I'm sorry, my Lord..."
He kneeled down and avoided my scorn.
"It can be a beneficial event... for status and wealth, that is"
I scoffed at the thought and the moment the boy slipped on my second shoe I left the room.
I had quite forgotten the fact that I really couldn't find my way around the palace. I wondered down the hall and touched the wall struggling to remember their distinction and yet it failed me. I cursed myself and the whole damned affinity. I'd find the bar sooner than later. I came to the central room with the lavishly painted ceiling and felt I made some headway but considering the night prior I'd plum forgotten where the lounge was located. In my rage I hurried down a random corridor and tugged on every knob I could see, figuring I'd eventually find myself in a room I was entitled to be in. It was all a loss and for the fortunate souls within they had been lucky enough to keep their locks fastened.I quickened my pace and exited the doors found at the end of the corridor and found myself in part of the garden. Though the sun indeed was bright and the warmth felt soothing on my throbbing head I circled the palace. I recalled the lounge being located on a corner encased in glass. The birds didn't distract me nor did the bees and the gentility of the horses I passed. At last I found a familiar set of gilded doors and entered. To my left was the lounge! I smiled at my luck and hurried inside. The barman lazily circled his cloth on an area that looked quite clean already and when he made eye contact with me he groaned.
"My Lord... at this hour?"
"Absolutely, my good friend. I need to fix this blasted aching head."
"Please don't repeat last night, I beg of you."
"Oh hush and hand me two fingers of scotch. Be a good lad, will you?"
With a lamenting moan he did as I asked and cast me a resentful glare knowing full well I wouldn't behave. To hell with it, I thought after swallowing the measly portion and with repetition of the night before I inquired,
"May I have the full bottle, my good man. I shall tip you as before."
"Damn you nobles..."
he muttered though audible.
"As you wish, my Lord"
His tone quickly turned and he handed me the humongous proportioned bottle. Like a child in a candy shoppe I held onto it dearly and high tailed my way out of the lounge. I exited the same doors I entered and walked taking swigs from the bottle as I went. I hummed a sailor's tune I once learned from a lad I had fought with as I went and I really didn't think where I would go. In no time, however, I found myself in front of the stables and wondered far South in the direction of the meadow. Not far into the distance did I walk before I sat down on the raw grass and I drank away my sorrows. To hell with royalty and their marriages and all the nonsense I had to put up with.

[NoctusKnight]

Located in: The halls Feeling: Annoyed Accompanied by: No one Wearing: Outfit----

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❝ Lilliana chatted Hannah's ear off for a good portion of the morning. The maid seemed apprehensive about loosening up around the pirate but Lily's laughter was infectious. Half an hour into their story exchanging, Hannah was seated on the right end of the settee and the pirate on the left and they were facing each other in the heat of discussion. The maid lifted a hand to her mouth and tried not to laugh too loud at the ludicrous things Lily was spouting. "Surely that can't be true?" Hannah asked, looking back up at Lily. The pirate's smile expanded and she nodded enthusiastically, throwing her hands out in a wide gesture. Most of her buzz had wore off but her cheeks were still rosy and her eyes were bright with excitement as she relayed her story. She was the last thing anyone should expect to see in the palace.

"You bet your a** it's the truth!" Lily replied, rousing more giggles from Hannah. "Hampton swung down from the nest and damn near took my head off in the process of trying to knock Benny from the ship. Poor boy threw his arms out and flapped like he was going to start flying! He hit the water so hard he almost didn't make it. I had to jump in after him," the pirate animatedly told the maid. "That was how we met the boy and now he's part of the crew. He'll never try and steal from Hampton again. You should have seen his face when Hampton came after him once Benny and I had been hoisted up!" Lily made a face of terror, shielding herself as though someone were above her to demonstrate but laughter bubbled to the surface as she couldn't keep her face straight. The two of them were grinning and skinning and that's how they were found by another maid.

Lily glanced up and over when the door was pushed further open and the face of the bewildered maid appeared. She was older than Hannah, lines having already appeared on her face and was surrounded by an air of seniority. She noticed the pirate first and panic surfaced in her eyes before turning to Hannah. Hannah's eyes widened and she jumped off the settee, smoothing non-existent wrinkles from the skirt of her dress. "Goodness! I was supposed to alert her of your presence. How empty-headed of me..." Hannah sighed, slipping back into reserved, quiet mannerisms. Lily stood as the new maid approached and shook her head.

"No Hannah, it was my fault. You'd have done your job had I not been chatting your ear off for the last hour," Lily replied with a shrug. "No harm done I hope?" she asked, now looking at the new maid. The new face gave a curt nod and she soon learned her name was Ester. She was much more critical than Hannah and before Lily could spin twice, the new maid was stripping her out of her clothing, having already sent Hannah to draw a bath and fetch another dress. "Hey, hey! Slow down there! If you wanted me undressed, you could have just asked," Lily stated only half-jokingly. Ester gave her look and the pirate shut up, allowing herself to be undressed. It wasn't as though Lily was ashamed of her body and in fact she was quite proud of it so she stood stark naked, not even trying to hide herself when Hannah returned with a new dress. "Oh goodness! I'm a pirate, not a princess! Don't you have anything with more...color?" Lily whined as soon as she spotted the dress.

Hannah looked as though she might go and fetch another but Ester shot Lily another look and guided her to the bath. Lily sighed in pleasure when she sunk into the warm water and spent a good while lounging before finally cleaning her body. Ester and Hannah moved in to assist her but that was where the pirate drew the line. Eventually after pressing, she settled for Ester washing her hair as she took care of the cleanliness of her skin herself. There were an assortment of oils and salts for her to use but despite using one or two, she retained her natural smell of the sea. No matter how hard she scrubbed, she'd always smell a little of salt and sea breeze. She was patted dry and handled with care once she was clean and guided back to sit where they could make up her face and dote upon her.

Lily was fond of darker colors, reds, blacks and browns, maybe even a splash of yellow but what they had for her was certainly out of range of her usual ensemble. Ester took to brushing her hair while Hannah applied creams and powders, much to Lily's disdain. She started to squirm in her seat and Ester placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her quickly. "You must look and take care of yourself like a lady, m'lady. Stop fidgeting," the elder maid stated. Lily let out an annoyed sigh and Hannah froze up, glancing between the two.

"There you go with that m'lady this and m'lady that," Lily grumbled. She however could tell that Ester wouldn't be as easy to crack as Hannah was; she'd have to get her loosen up over time before she could even think of asking her to call her by her first name. Ester braided her hair loosely and let the tail hang over her shoulder and once Hannah was done, they pushed and pulled her into the dress Hannah had brought for her. Lily was sure all of the personal affects Huxley had brought to the palace days before were stowed away never to be seen again after the maids had seen them. The things she wore as a pirate she'd surely never be allowed to wear again, at least not while she stayed there. The two maids commented on her fit, athletic figure, Hannah in slight admiration and Ester in slight disapproval.

"You look wonderful, m'lady," Hannah said, stepping away once they were done torturing the girl. It took all the pirate had not to rip herself free of the dress and flee. Ester and Hannah left her when they were finished and Lily groaned out loud as soon as the door shut behind them.

"A regency dress? You've got to be kidding me! Benny and Duncan would be in stitches if they saw me right now..." she grumbled, looking at herself in the mirror. She was pretty, Hannah hadn't lied about that but prim and proper just didn't fit Lilliana Hawke. She felt obligated to lounge in portrait rooms and attend tea parties dressed the way she was. One did not simply engage in a duel or captain a ship in a regency dress. After glowering at her appearance for another ten minutes, she finally left the room. Lily figured she couldn't stir up any trouble if she stayed in her room all day so she took to roaming the halls searching for anything to hold her interest. In truth, Lily grew terribly bored fairly quickly and was always looking for something new to hold her attention. With luck, she'd find a high window to throw herself from...

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If you're not making mistakes
Then you're not trying hard enough
If you haven't bled
Then you're not fighting hard enough_

____

[Cafe Kitty]

xxx

Camilla didn't wander very far, or observe much of the palace's ornate interior, until her legs began to shake beneath her. With a sigh, knowing full well this sensation, she sought a place of refuge to rest her weary body. She spotted a small armchair located adjacent to a large bay window, and with a breath of relief she allowed herself to sink down and relax.
She stared out the window, stretching her legs, extending them forwards and backwards as her joints quietly groaned against the action. She still felt tired, and her eyes were drooping closed as she cast her sullen gaze out onto the front courtyard, watching the ladies talk with high spirits, the gentlemen strut out with a jolly laugh as a servant brought forth horses for them to ride. Camilla envied them, she envied all of them. Their vitality, their youth, their excitement and passion for life.
She wondered what it was like to possess such boundless energy, what it felt like to run without exhaustion. She felt a restless sensation creep up upon her, and all at once she had the urge to jump to her feet and race for as long as she could possibly hold out. She wanted to go back to that orchard and lay in the grass, laugh among the flowers and feel the energy of the earth course through her veins as if she were nature itself, the same as the trees looming above her and the grass sticking out beneath the folds of her simple cotton dress.
"Why, is she wearing a shift dress?" The lady's voice rung through her head as clear as a bell, and she frowned in contempt. 'We are all children of this planet... we are all free to do as we please... why do we hold ourselves to such artificial constructs?' She wondered with a deep sigh, mentally exhausted from her pondering as she drew herself to her feet again. "So what if my simple dresses are not the Newport fashion? I would never be so base as to mock somebody for donning the costume of a foreign land." She spoke quietly to herself in the empty hallway, mentally discarding her train of thought as she did so, feeling she had already exhausted the topic enough.
She took a moment to gather her bearings and observe her surroundings; it was all unfamiliar to her, and she was unsure of where she had already been and had yet to go. "Oh, blast it all. I've forgotten my purpose." Camilla sighed deeply, feeling now that she was more ignorant of the palace's interior than she had been before the day's excursion even began.
She took a turn in a random direction and set off once more, ignoring her body's desire for more rest. It was a futile quest; the more she slept in such a condition, the more exhausted she became until she forced herself awake through ruthless activity. Again, she forced her thoughts aside to concentrate on her surroundings. There must be some trick or method to determining where she was - she refused to believe that all the people living here, servants and noble alike, were able to memorize a building so complex. She turned another corner, marveling at the beautiful decor, the sturdy construction, the ornate wallpaper and rich colors. Servants rushed to and fro about their duties, as handsome men and women donning the most elegant of garb walked at an easy, jovial pace to wherever they pleased. Despite her revelation just moments ago, Camilla crimsoned and began to fan herself to hide her face, embarrassed for her plain appearance despite her title of viscountess.

[Cafe Kitty]

Roleplay days have now been extended from 2 days to 3 real-life days in length.
Time will go back to progressing normally once we have a few more characters.
If you ever feel confused about what day is when, feel free to check out the 'Events' post on the front page,
which lists the length of each day and its corresponding real-life dates.