Post by Mirsada Anezka on Mar 7, 2006 0:26:41 GMT -5
I sealed the letter to my parents and gave it to one of the stock boys to take to the post. It had been oddly disconcerting to put down the recent events onto parchment. Who knew how long it would be until they received reliable news of the events in Illyria, so I had thought it best to send word to my parents. I put my wax and seal back into their box and went out to the main part of the store.
I had been worried that the tragedies and uncertain times would keep people away from the stores, but except for the first day things had been fine. There was an Akkadian fete being thrown, so of course my Akkadian items were flying off the shelves. Everyone, especially those not invited, wanted to appear as if they were in with the latest royal fashion.
If only I could find someone to throw a fete with a Flatlands theme I could dispense with those crates of blankets and horn-cups, I thought with a chuckle. Ah well, it would happen eventually.
I looked up as the little bell on the door chimed as a customer entered. I smiled welcomingly even as I scowled inwardly. Comte Bernadri had been insistent in his pursuit and I was growing weary. I was trying to walk the fine line between rebuking his advances and maintaining his patronage.
"Mirsada, my sweet," he said, coming to where I stood. "I have missed you like the flowers miss the sun."
"You do not strike me as a delicate flower, Comte," I said, still smiling but moving to where the counter stood between us.
"How many times have I told you to call me Matthew?" he said, grinning foolishly and leaning on the counter.
"More than I can count," I replied, evenly.
"So there, unless you say Matthew I won't respond, it's settled! Now, on to why I am here," he leaned in closer. "I have an invitation to the fete and would like you to accompany me. Say yes, I won't take no for an answer."
"I am going to have to decline, I already have plans for that evening," I said, trying to look regretful.
His eyes narrowed as he tried to decide if I was telling the truth. He straightened quickly and puffed out his chest. "I shall just have to find some nubile adept to accompany me then," he said, turning and leaving in a rush.
I sat on my stool, shaking my head. I knew he would be back. The scent of my money was like opium to him.
I smiled as the stock boy returned, receipt for the post in hand and informing me that there was a delivery coming down the street.
I had been worried that the tragedies and uncertain times would keep people away from the stores, but except for the first day things had been fine. There was an Akkadian fete being thrown, so of course my Akkadian items were flying off the shelves. Everyone, especially those not invited, wanted to appear as if they were in with the latest royal fashion.
If only I could find someone to throw a fete with a Flatlands theme I could dispense with those crates of blankets and horn-cups, I thought with a chuckle. Ah well, it would happen eventually.
I looked up as the little bell on the door chimed as a customer entered. I smiled welcomingly even as I scowled inwardly. Comte Bernadri had been insistent in his pursuit and I was growing weary. I was trying to walk the fine line between rebuking his advances and maintaining his patronage.
"Mirsada, my sweet," he said, coming to where I stood. "I have missed you like the flowers miss the sun."
"You do not strike me as a delicate flower, Comte," I said, still smiling but moving to where the counter stood between us.
"How many times have I told you to call me Matthew?" he said, grinning foolishly and leaning on the counter.
"More than I can count," I replied, evenly.
"So there, unless you say Matthew I won't respond, it's settled! Now, on to why I am here," he leaned in closer. "I have an invitation to the fete and would like you to accompany me. Say yes, I won't take no for an answer."
"I am going to have to decline, I already have plans for that evening," I said, trying to look regretful.
His eyes narrowed as he tried to decide if I was telling the truth. He straightened quickly and puffed out his chest. "I shall just have to find some nubile adept to accompany me then," he said, turning and leaving in a rush.
I sat on my stool, shaking my head. I knew he would be back. The scent of my money was like opium to him.
I smiled as the stock boy returned, receipt for the post in hand and informing me that there was a delivery coming down the street.