Post by Aurianne nó Hughes on Feb 20, 2011 19:50:40 GMT -5
I'd been curled up on a settee reading a book I'd found in Damiens library when a rap came to the door, smart and quick. I sat up, my eyes widening some as I watched a maid hurry past the doorway of the little lounge room I was in. A few muffled words were exchanged, and she appeared at my doorway again, confused, but bidding me to come with her.
A gentleman stood, sporting a moustache rare among d'Angeline men, and I met him with my hands clear and clean from any smudges of ink I might have picked up from the book I was reading. I'd learned long ago to take care of things such as that; my dress was spotless, my hair swept up into a seemingly careless knot, but even that was done with a careful hand. Strange things to think about, even after he told me the reason of his visit. A gasp 'round the corner told me the maid hadn't left before the scurry of feet did, and, numbly, I took the gentlemans arm and allowed him to lead me into the sitting room so he could tell me how things happened.
The story he told me was almost unbelievable to anyone who didn't know Damien. He'd come across a wagonload, a family who was in the midst of a long move between provinces. A group of bandits had attacked, and Damien had left his carriage to fight them off. Any gruesome details the man with the mustache left out, but in the end Damien and the father of the family died, but the mother and her two children lived.
For days I was numb and fearful both. Two of the bandits had gotten away, two were dead. What if they came here? No, that was impossible; they wouldn't have.. but they'd ransacked Damiens person before escaping, as well as taking any valuables from the wagon. I shivered in fright, but after a week of fear I knew I couldn't live like this forever. What would happen would, and while I was a former Camellia adept I wasn't completely bereft of the abilities to defend myself. I met with an executor of Damiens estate, and to my utter shock, he'd named me successor to not only his belongings, but his title. It was an honor and a gift greater than I deserved, and instantly fear was replaced by guilt that I hadn't been able to be more for him than merely a friend.
A week and a half had passed before I sat down to pen Yves a note, and once that was done I was slowly feeling better. Damiens death saddened me, the idea that two people who had killed him and knew who he was frightened me, but somewhere in me I found my spine.. a spine I'd never really had to rely upon before. With quivering hands I formally accepted the title he'd left, and slowly I tried to settle down to life as it was now; with Damien having been gone so much, it wasn't wholly different... but at the same time, everything had changed.
A gentleman stood, sporting a moustache rare among d'Angeline men, and I met him with my hands clear and clean from any smudges of ink I might have picked up from the book I was reading. I'd learned long ago to take care of things such as that; my dress was spotless, my hair swept up into a seemingly careless knot, but even that was done with a careful hand. Strange things to think about, even after he told me the reason of his visit. A gasp 'round the corner told me the maid hadn't left before the scurry of feet did, and, numbly, I took the gentlemans arm and allowed him to lead me into the sitting room so he could tell me how things happened.
The story he told me was almost unbelievable to anyone who didn't know Damien. He'd come across a wagonload, a family who was in the midst of a long move between provinces. A group of bandits had attacked, and Damien had left his carriage to fight them off. Any gruesome details the man with the mustache left out, but in the end Damien and the father of the family died, but the mother and her two children lived.
For days I was numb and fearful both. Two of the bandits had gotten away, two were dead. What if they came here? No, that was impossible; they wouldn't have.. but they'd ransacked Damiens person before escaping, as well as taking any valuables from the wagon. I shivered in fright, but after a week of fear I knew I couldn't live like this forever. What would happen would, and while I was a former Camellia adept I wasn't completely bereft of the abilities to defend myself. I met with an executor of Damiens estate, and to my utter shock, he'd named me successor to not only his belongings, but his title. It was an honor and a gift greater than I deserved, and instantly fear was replaced by guilt that I hadn't been able to be more for him than merely a friend.
A week and a half had passed before I sat down to pen Yves a note, and once that was done I was slowly feeling better. Damiens death saddened me, the idea that two people who had killed him and knew who he was frightened me, but somewhere in me I found my spine.. a spine I'd never really had to rely upon before. With quivering hands I formally accepted the title he'd left, and slowly I tried to settle down to life as it was now; with Damien having been gone so much, it wasn't wholly different... but at the same time, everything had changed.