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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Dec 23, 2010 0:04:16 GMT -5
It was the first time I'd left Christelle with the Nanny for more than a couple of hours for me to sleep; the first time I'd left her at the house while I left to tend to my own needs and sanity, and a large piece of me felt guilty at it. I knew I needed the break, and so I forced myself to go to the Artisans District for a new book or two to read, and some new tea to go along with it. A little bag of tea already hung at my wrist, purchased before the books so I didn't have to carry the heavier object longer than normal, and I made my way slowly through Armands, seeing books without really reading the titles or anything about them. I was distracted, there was no denying it.
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Dec 23, 2010 0:24:08 GMT -5
Business was.... well... a little slow for spring, slower than I had expected. Father had sent me missives asking me to come back, just for a visit, but I did not want to go back, not without something to show for my time here in Terre d'Ange. I had been doing well, but I wanted to do better than well, I wanted to surprise my father, astound him, make him wonder at my success, but as yet all he could do when presented the figures most likely would be to nod, pat me on the back. And to think, I thought I had grown out of desiring my father's approval. BUt regardless, business was slow, and staying in the shoppe when it was so silent was tarrying on my nerves. And I hadn't ought else to hold my attention. So, with that in mind I entered Armands, seeking out a book to read on the days much like this, when there was little business and my mind tended to roam to other thoughts that I would rather not think about.
The bell jangled upon my entrance, and I waved to the shopkeep before I went down one of the aisles, not really thinking, unsure of what I wanted to read at all.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Dec 23, 2010 1:05:05 GMT -5
Nothing but the occassional color of a book caught my attention as I moved; was she alright? Happy? Sleeping? Crying? Elua I shouldn't have left. Idly I brushed my hand over a book before I rounded a corner...
and right into a man. Biting back a yelp, I still managed to gasp loudly, my hand moving from the shelf and to his upper arm, grasping at his shirt to.. Elua, I didn't know! Not steady myself, but him mayhap? "Oh, I'm sorry!"I breathed almost immediately, color flooding my cheeks.
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Dec 23, 2010 1:33:36 GMT -5
Wandering rather aimlessly, my fingers brushed over the spines of some volumes of what seemed to be alchemic books. I smiled, shaking my head before I felt a presence... well more than felt it as she walked into me, and then grabbed my arm. I looked from her hand up her arm, to her face. Striking blue eyes and hair the colour of young wheat, plump lips in the shape of an "O" and colouring cheeks came into view. I smiled as she apologized, shaking my head as I chuckled, curls bouncing about my brow.
"Not to worry," I said with a smile. "This seems to happen to me often," I teased. I backed up just slightly to give her some room, though not too far as to remove her hand in case it was there to steady herself. I doubt she went about feeling up strangers, even if this is Terre d'Ange. "I find that running into strangers, or rather strangers running into me always ends in good conversation." I smiled carelessly, dimples rising to my cheeks,
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Dec 23, 2010 10:24:54 GMT -5
I was embarrassed, almost mortified at having walked into him, but he took it calmly and cooly, laughing it off and stepping back, but not so far as to pull his arm away from me. I blushed even harder and snatched my hand away, letting the crisp, fine material fall out of my hand as if burned.
"I was thinking," I murmured, as if it were an excuse. Still, he didn't seem too upset though, and I found myself looking up to him in a growing appreciation, actually seeing him for the first time. Clear eyes stood out of a rugged, handsome face capped by beautifully dark locks; he was striking, that was painfully obvious. The rest of his body was fit, and he was taller than I, though the thing I noticed most was the shadow upon his cheeks; I couldn't tell if he had stubble or if the coloring never went away even when he shaved. Not d'Angeline then, but beautiful.
"You're run into a lot?" I asked, vainly wishing I wasn't blushing like I was. "I hope you wear stout shoes."
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Dec 23, 2010 12:20:07 GMT -5
She pulled her hand away very quickly, and I wondered if perhaps I had frightened her. I did my level best not to frown, though, and keep things light. I think mayhap she was just expecting to get yelled at instead of conversed with.
"Well, yes of course, I have iron plates welded into the toes of all my boots, just in case," I said with a laugh, "no, unfortuantely I don't, but it seems that people are generally careful enough, even when they don't notice, not to step on the feet. It's a rather interesting phenomenon actually." I looked at her, though I was not brash enough to give her a once over, not while she stood before me, looking me square in the face.
"Would it be too forward to ask what it was that had taken your attention away?" I asked, cocking my head to the side inquisitively. I hoped I was not prying too much.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Dec 27, 2010 13:32:05 GMT -5
He'd said before that he found being run into generated interesting conversation, and Elua, I could see already how it was. Along with devilishly handsome, his easy going nature was already putting me at ease, and I could feel the blush in my cheeks drain away little by little with every word he spoke.
His comments on the phenomenons of feet stepping made me laugh to my own shock, and when he inquired as to what had stolen my attention, a smile bloomed across my lips.
"My daughter, actually," I stated with no little amount of pride in my voice. "She's but a few weeks old now, and I couldn't help but wonder how she was, if she was awake or hungry or a thousand other little things. I'm afraid I have trouble concentrating since she was born," I admitted, though in truth I'd had problems with it since August died.
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Dec 29, 2010 10:14:59 GMT -5
She smiled, and even laughed, her entire countenance brightening and I grinned wider for it, merriment reaching my eyes. I did really enjoy when I was able to make someone laugh, especially someone who had seemed like she was carrying a large weight on her shoulders. And with her announcement I understood.
"Ahh," I said, nodding my head, "yes that will do it, won't it," I said with a chuckle. "And just a few weeks old? So not old enough yet to take after her mother and running into people, I see," I teased. "But in truth, I obviously do not know you, I know, and you may not know it, but you are a very strong person to be able to be about without her at your bosom. It must be hard for you, but I am sure she is fine," I reassured her, though I could really not know whether she was or not. "She is a very lucky little girl to have a mother who cares so keenly for her."
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Dec 29, 2010 11:51:37 GMT -5
Easy to talk to indeed. I found myself smiling at him without even having to try, my hands folded demurely before my skirts as we spoke. Every now and then I fingered the fabric covering my upper thighs, then made myself stop once I realized what I was doing; it was a fault of mine lately, this fidgeting.
"You're very kind to say so," I replied warmly, truly meaning it. "It is difficult for me to be away from her, but I've been told by countless people that a little bit of separation is good for both of us... it'll make it easier if I ever have to go away for an extended time on duties of the state," I added, swallowing a sigh at the thought.
Abruptly I remembered my manners, and my eyes rose to his again, my tone warming once more. "I'm Duchesse Mirielle Bellamont, by the by... It's a pleasure to meet you, lord...?"
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Dec 29, 2010 12:38:24 GMT -5
I nodded in agreement to her words. What she was told is true, and when she mentioned her name - Duchesse - that explained why it may be inevitable.
"Balthasar de Crodova," I said with a bow, a playful one, though still respectable and deep enough. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance... and please, call me Balta. I have never really been one for formalities," I said , flashing her a jovial grin. "I hope I have not distracted you from important business you need to tend to..." I said, offering her an out should she need it, though I hoped she didn't. Truthfully she was nice to converse with, and it had been some time that I had someone to talk to other than a customer or those that I employed.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Dec 29, 2010 21:55:33 GMT -5
"Baltasar de Cordova," I repeated, tasting the way his obviously foreign name felt upon my tongue. "You've a beautiful name, if you don't mind my saying so. Aragonian as well, unless I've missed my guess?" I hadn't, not with his accent toboot, but that was no excuse for a lack of politeness.
When he mentioned any important business he'd distracted me from, I admit, I was quite impressed. In one fell swoop, he'd managed to give me a chance to escape conversation while still showing he wasn't disinterested in talking to me; was he court trained? Very smooth, indeed. My smile flashed before I even realized it, and I shook my head, sunnied locks tumbling down over my shoulders. "Not at all; in truth, I think I'd already be hurrying back if I hadn't met you, and that would never do." Truth; I'd not been gone nearly long enough for the minimum time I'd allotted myself. "Were you looking for something in particular here? Mayhap I can help you find it..."
Ah, gods; he was smooth and easy mannered, and with all my time spent away from court and any actual adult conversation of late, I felt uncouth and illmannered. My lower teeth caught my lip, and I waited.
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Dec 31, 2010 9:48:30 GMT -5
Her smile was a bright one when she flashed it at me, and I could not help but to smile back, chuckling at her observation.
"Oh, you are quite correct, I am of Aragonian blood," she had not picked up my other lineage, which was fine. Enough people knew already as it was, at least for now, it could be kept secret. "And I am glad to hear that you are not in too much of a hurry," I grinned again as I looked at her, her bottom lip catching between her teeth as if she were waiting on tenterhooks for my response. I could have laughed, but I did not. I would hate for it to be misconstrued as me finding amusement where it ought not to be found.
"Perhaps you could help me. I am looking for something to take away my mind from things. Something to get utterly and completely lost in so that when I do happen to look up from it and glance outside, I am astonished to see how much time has passed. Do you know of such a book?"
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Dec 31, 2010 13:26:27 GMT -5
He posed a question, a challenge of sorts, and I tilted my head as I thought about it. A book to help distract him? "The Journey of Chaim d'Elont comes to mind first," I replied after a moment, my smile easy and gentle upon my mouth. "It's a collection of stories by a d'Angeline man who traveled through exotic lands, meeting different people and experiencing thier customs. Some stories are quite funny, and others are sad, others make you think and reflect... I'm not sure if that is something that would interest you, but it enraptured me when I read it."
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Dec 31, 2010 13:31:17 GMT -5
I listened to her suggestion. Her voice was smooth, soft, but not oversoft. She sounded confident, a woman who knew who she was and where she stood in life. I smiled easily at it, regardless of whether I might look a bit like a dolt.
"That sounds like something that would be good, a variety of different things, emotions reflected... may even include some action. Is it a true story, or fictional?" I asked her, intrigued by her taste. If it were indeed based on true facts it would make the read that much more interesting.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Jan 2, 2011 17:08:54 GMT -5
"It's supposed to be based off a true series of events," I smiled to him as we stood, my fingers toying with the little satchel of dried tea herbs dangling from my wrist. "Or, so the author claims, though whether they embellished it I suppose no one will really know," I added, laughing softly.
"What types of books do you generally like?" I smiled as I stood with him, patient and curious.
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Jan 2, 2011 23:21:02 GMT -5
Her smile was infectious, which kept my smile plastered on my face. I eyed her hands as her fingers played with a small sac that hung from her wrist.
"I prefer stories based on true to life happenings," I explained with a slightly lopsided grin, "though I do find that fiction tends to hold my attention better. The best are the stories that are a cross between the two, so what you have described sounds like something I just might enjoy." I grinned at her as I once again eyed the little bag at her wrist. Her hands looked so delicate, dainty. "May I ask... what is in the bag?"
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Jan 2, 2011 23:27:27 GMT -5
My smile grew, pleased that he sounded amenable to the book I'd suggested. When he inquired as to the sack hanging at my wrist, I glanced down to it, catching it in my palm and holding it up by drive of instinct alone. "Tea, actually," I said, doing my best not to crush the dried herbs overmuch. "I've developed a fondness for a particular type of tea that uses dried rose petals.. It's not sweet on it's own, not unless honey is added, but the petals bring a full flavor and... Oh!"
I laughed, cutting myself off. "Elua I'm sorry, I've had the worst habit of rambling on lately." How was I ever going to function at court? I'd been away so long, and I couldn't even talk to a stranger without rambling.
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Jan 3, 2011 15:46:23 GMT -5
I smiled as she went on, describing the tea. When she stopped herself I could not help but to chuckle. "You know, I do not think I have ever met a mother who does not ramble," I teased, "my own mother tends to do that. She blames it on me and my younger brother. Says when my father was away on business trips she had little to talk to but us, and so she would. She also claims that as her pride and joy as to why her boys are so intelligent," I rolled my eyes, laughing then. "And now you've got me rambling. Let me guess, you talk very much to your little one yes?"
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Jan 3, 2011 17:18:51 GMT -5
Mother. I was one, but it was still almost odd to hear it; I hadn't quite adjusted to it yet. "I do talk to her quite a bit actually," I laughed; he was spot on, there. "Your mother sounds like quite the woman though.. I think she must be right in what she said to you. We're never wrong, you know," I teased him, my eyes sparkling with mirth and delight at good conversation. "At least not where our children are concerned."
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Jan 3, 2011 19:53:52 GMT -5
I chuckled, "ah, Elua, indeed. I can still feel the spoon on my knuckles from all the times mother had let me know she was right, and I was wrong," I teased, rubbing my knuckles. "It is good, you know, to talk to your little one. Not the silly baby talk I often hear nobles prattling on with, but to really talk. So I have read anyway," I grinned as I turned half towards the bookshelf, though I still kept my attention on the lovely lady before me. My fingers trailed over the spines of some of the books. I turned to her suddenly, an idea sparking. "Were you planning on having some of that tea while you were out? Or were you saving it for your return home?"
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Jan 3, 2011 20:17:35 GMT -5
When he spoke of his mother rapping a spoon upon his knuckles, I couldn't help but wince and hold my own hand at the thought of it.. which proved slightly amusing as he rubbed his own knuckles at the same time. I laughed softly for it, a very small thing, as he turned away then back to me again.
"Do you have any children of your own, Balta?" I queried curiously, dropping my hands down before my empire-wasted gown. Whether he did or not, I could imagine him already to be a good father.. he seemed relaxed and ready with a laugh, and from the way he spoke of his mother, family seemed important to him.
"My tea? I was planning for when I returned home, though..." A light entered my eyes as I grinned suddenly at him. "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea? The place I bought this at has a few tables outside under a canopy we could sit at, just 'round the corner."
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Jan 4, 2011 12:26:10 GMT -5
I grinned, laughing a bit. "Me? Children? No, although having a younger sibling is much like having ones own child. But I know I would love to be a father one day. Children bring so much joy into a household,I cannot imagine not eventually having one." Twas true. I was not old by any means, and certainly not by d'Angeline means, but marriage and children was something I would want in my future.
"I was thinking that very same thing actually. I would love to join you for tea... but first, I will have to ask you the favour of helping me find the book you spoke of. The idea of it has taken nest in my brain so if I do not get it I will be thinking of getting it for some time after and... oh have you found anything for yourself?" I had almost forgotten my manners, afterall she was here for a reason as well, and perhaps she needed more time to find her own tome to read.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Jan 5, 2011 10:55:53 GMT -5
I listened to him speak of children, and it warmed my heart. He truly would be a good father; that only cemented in my mind. I knew August would have been a good father too... he just never had the chance for it, taken from Christelle and I before he knew he was going to be one. Before I knew, truth be.
Suddenly I realized I was misty eyed, and I colored, turning away from Balta under the pretenses of looking for his book. "It's this way, actually," I said, glancing up at him quickly to give him as friendly a smile as I could before I darted my eyes away again, leading him further into the store. It helped; my eyes cleared, and though I knew I likely looked a fool to him, I at least knew I could look at him without glassy eyes. "It's.. here."
Deftly I plucked the book from the shelf, turning to offer it to him. My lower lashes were moist still, but I hoped it wasn't enough to make him notice, and wiping at them would have smudged my makeup and made it all the more obvious. "I don't truly need a book for myself.. it was more just the excuse of staying out later," I added, giving a guilty little shrug of my shoulders.
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Jan 5, 2011 12:31:03 GMT -5
I noticed that she sseemed to lose herself for a moment, her eyes taking on a far-away look as they seemed to glass over, but before I could tell whether she was crying she turned away, flashing me a soft smile before leading me to the aisle that held the book she had suggested. She plucked it off the shelf, and before she turned to me to give me the book, I had pulled from my pocket a handkerchief. i had seen my mother on many occasions trying to hide tears, to no avail, I always noticed, and always offered her a hug. Now Mirielle, I could not, as I did not know her, and did not wish to scare her off, but the least I could do was offer her a handkerchief and some kind words. I held it out to her while takin ghte book.
"Thank you for finding it," I said in a soft voice and smile, "and here," I said, taking her hand and placing the clean handkerchief in her palm before closing her fingers about it. I could not help but notice how soft and dainty her hands were, small in my larger, almost bear-like hands. "Do you miss your little one?" I asked her. I was unsure what had caused her to nearly cry, but with all the discussion of children, I thought perhaps she missed her baby.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Jan 6, 2011 18:28:52 GMT -5
I felt so.. Elua, so idiotic, but I accepted his thoughtful handkerchief with a grateful, embarrassed smile. Would I never be past this? Never? Sometimes I wondered if I'd ever be happy again, or if true happiness was something only alive in my dreams.
"Thank you," I murmured, drawing the soft cloth under my eyes to clear them further. When I pulled it away, kohl came with it, and I colored slightly, though my cheeks were already high in color before that. "Oh, I've dirtied it, I'm sorry..." His question took me away from trying to figure out how to make the situation better; I couldn't offer to buy it, but.. wash it and return it?
"I always miss her," I said, feeling silly about that too, and I gave a smile, trying to push away all the sadness in me again. "Even when she's sleeping, I miss her."
I wasn't sure if that's what he thought I was crying for, or if he'd believe it still after my answer, but I wasn't sure how else to answer; how do you tell someone your betrothed had died and that's why you were crying? He must not have been in the country overlong; Augusts funeral had drawn a lot of attention, and it was widely known that we were to be married. I focused on that, on the facts, anything to keep me going away from the subject that inevitably tore my heart. "I'm sorry, I'm not a very good conversationalist today." Holding onto his handkerchief before me, I shook my head, eyes dropping to his chest before rising again, and when they did, I drew in a breath, a smile on my mouth. "Mayhap I should start over again. Hello, my name is Miri. Would you like to get a cup of tea with me, monsieur whom I've never talked to before?" Playful, light; I was trying as hard as I could, and I waited for his reply with infinite patience.
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Jan 6, 2011 22:52:56 GMT -5
She seemed so...innocent, but also so very sad. I wanted to reach out and try to console her, but it was not my place. So when she mentioned sullying the handkerchief, I waved the notion of worry away. "Not to worry. Keep it," I said with a smile, "you never know when it might come in handy." Like now, I thought to myself as she explained how she missed her daughter. Her words sounded so heart felt, it nigh brought a tear to my own eye. But then she tried to turn herself around, and not go down that road. I wouldn't have minded if she needed to get something off of her chest, but if she wished to start afresh too, then I could not begrudge her wanting to try to be happy. So I smiled, laughing at her words.
"Well, stranger who's name is apparently Miri, I am Balta, and I would actually love to have a cup of tea with you. And, oh look at that, you're holding the book I was here to buy!" I said with a grin before laughing, a full laugh, hearty and deep.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Jan 9, 2011 21:17:05 GMT -5
Despite my wish to start anew, I hadn't expected to laugh quite so soon or feel it quite so keenly, and when my laughter did tumble out of me, it felt... good. Very good, truth be.
"Oh, my goodness, what a coincidence," I jested, playing along as I offered it to him. "I'd just pulled it off a shelf for unknown reasons, but I have it at home so mayhap you should take this copy."
A twinkle in my eye, I shifted so we could walk to the front together. I'd not be purchasing anything today, but instead I'd be richer a conversation if nothing else.
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Jan 9, 2011 22:06:56 GMT -5
"Well that is quite a peculiar thing!" I teased back as she handed me the book. I bowed at the waist, playfully, before walking alongside her to the front. She had nothing to purchase, and so I paid the shoppekeep for my book, taking the coin from the coinpurse at my waist. He wrapped it in brown paper with some ribbon and handed it to me. I turned to Miri with a smile. "So where do you prefer to have tea?" I asked her as I picked up the package off the table.
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Post by Mirielle Bellamont on Jan 10, 2011 13:50:42 GMT -5
I walked with him quite pleasantly, determined to put the few moments of sadness behind me and focus instead on having a friendly cup of tea with a man who seemed docile and nice enough. When his package was ready, I flashed him a smile as I turned, leading us out the door and down the street. "It's just up at the corner, actually," I said as we moved. Fresh air smelled amazing to me, and I breathed in deeply, reveling in not having to bundle up and hide myself from the bitter cold. "What sort of tea do you generally prefer, monsieur de Cordova?"
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Post by Baltasar de Cordova on Jan 11, 2011 10:19:57 GMT -5
We walked out the door into the bright day. It was lovely to have spring here. I had come in the summer, which was hot, though not as hot as home got sometime, and I had been here for the fall and winter, but this was my first spring. The air was fresh, the skies were clear, and I looked about me, up at the cloudless sky, and then down the street, and then to Miri with a smile.
"Ah well, there is this lovely tea I once had from Carthage," I explained, "fresh spearmint, orange water, rose water and a bit of something else, and sweetened with honey," I raised my fingers to my lips and kissed them, "magnifique! But I have been unable to find it since."
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