Post by Liselle de Montblanc-Bonnel on Jul 26, 2011 14:31:36 GMT -5
Another boring day of a country summer that was turning into evening, and once the sun finished setting there was going to be another boring country ball to go with it, all of the girls in gowns that the City would no doubt sneer at if anyone would be stupid enough to wear them there- unless, of course, you were very lucky and had family with City connections.
I was one of the lucky ones and I knew it, and reveled in it, just as the rest of my family did. My mother was a d'Aiglemort, and that gave us status. My father ran the Montblanc winery, that gave us wealth. We were d'Angeline and that gave us beauty, just as being Camaeline gave us strength, bravery and cunning and competitive spirits; who could dare to stand against us in anything? My brothers had become soldiers or successful businessmen as their turns had come around, with my parents always behind them. My sisters had married well, or strengthened the family in other ways. Everything my family had tried had met with success, and no failures were ever allowed to linger.
I was the last child of eleven. There was a lot to prove in that.
Luckily at birth my parents had decided I would stay their last child, and made efforts never to have another. I was to be the lovely baby forever and ever, dressed up in her pretty gowns, shown off as the epitome of delicate tastes and good breeding. Luckily I'd stayed just as beautiful as they wanted so that it would work. I was dressed in my delicate gowns and rewarded for batting my lashes and keeping my manners, and then sent away with a treat and orders to the nurses to make sure I was given what I desired to keep me quiet and sweet-spirited.
Of course it never works that way, but I didn't care. It didn't take long to figure out that a scream brought my parents, who then punished the nurses, and who then gave me more to keep me quiet. I'd worked my first deal, and it lasted forever.
That wasn't where my thoughts were now though. As the day drew on I was bathed, my hair brushed smooth, and my gown of rich amber laced and arranged to flow over my curves just so. I was fifteen and could have passed for two or three years older- and sometimes I did. If those men knew they'd probably have a heart attack or question their own morality.
But then everything was done and I set out on my way, the large carriage carrying my parents and I to the party at the next estate. The Lengoline family had a daughter about my age and lovely in her own dark way, and we'd always competed since we were small children, more playfully from her than me, of course. Practice makes perfect, I'd always been told, and being imperfect meant second place. Second place was only a pretty, courtly term for 'first loser'.
Now that Janelle was getting a reputation different from mine, and people were looking at her longer limbs and greater height with new appreciation. My mother had talked to me in a hurried, harsh tone about it more than once. 'Straighten up your act, Liselle. I will not have us looking like peasants next to that thin-blood bougeuis family. Do you want her to be better remembered than you? Where's your pride?'
I unclenched my jaw as I stepped down and pushed the thoughts away, giving my charming smiles to those I knew and just a slight half-lidded gaze to those I knew even better while I entered while I looked around. There was Janelle, standing to one corner and smiling at those she was speaking to. Her gown- it was pale blue, and it brought out every lovely thing in her features, and I knew that this fete would be hers because of it. The taste of loss was bitter in my throat, like bile, and it made my entire body tense, though I had been too well-trained to let that show. No! No, I was not the loser here!
But then she looked at me, and I saw in her face that she still thought I was pretty, and that brought an idea to mind. She'd always given me that look, and I was mature enough to know what it meant. She liked me, and she trusted me. Maybe she wanted to bed me, maybe not, but that didn't matter in the long run.
She would let me close.
Smiling more brightly I moved closer to her, speaking pleasantries in a low, friendly tone as I leaned in to give her a kiss of greeting, my hand going to her waist as though to keep my balance in the heels I wore, but it was a lie. In my hand I had a piece of chocolate and as I drew my fingers back I let it smear across the side of her gown before bringing my hands demurely behind me while the conversation continued. Janelle wouldn't notice, she had no mind for deviousness, but everyone else would. She'd look like a slob and I would be the prettiest again.
Without an ounce of guilt, or at least not one I would admit to, I walked away.
There is no place worth being except for the winners circle. That made it justifiable. Mother would be proud.
I was one of the lucky ones and I knew it, and reveled in it, just as the rest of my family did. My mother was a d'Aiglemort, and that gave us status. My father ran the Montblanc winery, that gave us wealth. We were d'Angeline and that gave us beauty, just as being Camaeline gave us strength, bravery and cunning and competitive spirits; who could dare to stand against us in anything? My brothers had become soldiers or successful businessmen as their turns had come around, with my parents always behind them. My sisters had married well, or strengthened the family in other ways. Everything my family had tried had met with success, and no failures were ever allowed to linger.
I was the last child of eleven. There was a lot to prove in that.
Luckily at birth my parents had decided I would stay their last child, and made efforts never to have another. I was to be the lovely baby forever and ever, dressed up in her pretty gowns, shown off as the epitome of delicate tastes and good breeding. Luckily I'd stayed just as beautiful as they wanted so that it would work. I was dressed in my delicate gowns and rewarded for batting my lashes and keeping my manners, and then sent away with a treat and orders to the nurses to make sure I was given what I desired to keep me quiet and sweet-spirited.
Of course it never works that way, but I didn't care. It didn't take long to figure out that a scream brought my parents, who then punished the nurses, and who then gave me more to keep me quiet. I'd worked my first deal, and it lasted forever.
That wasn't where my thoughts were now though. As the day drew on I was bathed, my hair brushed smooth, and my gown of rich amber laced and arranged to flow over my curves just so. I was fifteen and could have passed for two or three years older- and sometimes I did. If those men knew they'd probably have a heart attack or question their own morality.
But then everything was done and I set out on my way, the large carriage carrying my parents and I to the party at the next estate. The Lengoline family had a daughter about my age and lovely in her own dark way, and we'd always competed since we were small children, more playfully from her than me, of course. Practice makes perfect, I'd always been told, and being imperfect meant second place. Second place was only a pretty, courtly term for 'first loser'.
Now that Janelle was getting a reputation different from mine, and people were looking at her longer limbs and greater height with new appreciation. My mother had talked to me in a hurried, harsh tone about it more than once. 'Straighten up your act, Liselle. I will not have us looking like peasants next to that thin-blood bougeuis family. Do you want her to be better remembered than you? Where's your pride?'
I unclenched my jaw as I stepped down and pushed the thoughts away, giving my charming smiles to those I knew and just a slight half-lidded gaze to those I knew even better while I entered while I looked around. There was Janelle, standing to one corner and smiling at those she was speaking to. Her gown- it was pale blue, and it brought out every lovely thing in her features, and I knew that this fete would be hers because of it. The taste of loss was bitter in my throat, like bile, and it made my entire body tense, though I had been too well-trained to let that show. No! No, I was not the loser here!
But then she looked at me, and I saw in her face that she still thought I was pretty, and that brought an idea to mind. She'd always given me that look, and I was mature enough to know what it meant. She liked me, and she trusted me. Maybe she wanted to bed me, maybe not, but that didn't matter in the long run.
She would let me close.
Smiling more brightly I moved closer to her, speaking pleasantries in a low, friendly tone as I leaned in to give her a kiss of greeting, my hand going to her waist as though to keep my balance in the heels I wore, but it was a lie. In my hand I had a piece of chocolate and as I drew my fingers back I let it smear across the side of her gown before bringing my hands demurely behind me while the conversation continued. Janelle wouldn't notice, she had no mind for deviousness, but everyone else would. She'd look like a slob and I would be the prettiest again.
Without an ounce of guilt, or at least not one I would admit to, I walked away.
There is no place worth being except for the winners circle. That made it justifiable. Mother would be proud.