forum Kingdom of Spirits (4/4) (CLOSED)

Started July 01, 2019 by @ShadeStar

tune

Brecken came back with a wet cloth and some bandages. He looked to her and held them out towards her, "Here. Wipe up the blood with the cloth and then put the bandages on any open wounds."

Aureole winced. "I - thank you, I just - never mind," she shook her head and wiped the blood off of her elbows and knees, deciding not to use the bandages, especially because she would look stupid trying to bandage her own elbows.

Brecken took the bandages and then to her elbows and knees, "Do you want me to put them on for you?"

"N-no, I don't - thank you, that's kind of you to offer, but I'm actually - no, thank you," Aureole managed to choke out, turning crimson with embarrassment.

Brecken seemed to have no negative nor positive emotion as he put the bandages away, "Of course. Do you want me to escort you back to the gala?"

"I, um, yes. That would be lovely. Thank you," Aureole told him quietly.

Brecken offered her a hand, "Well, shall we go then?"

Aureole nodded, staring at his hand for a moment before coming to her senses and gently taking it. "Thank you," she repeated.

Brecken nodded and began leading her back to the gala, "It was my pleasure."

Aureole shook her head with a slight smile. "I'm sure it wasn't, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Brecken shrugged and rejoined the line of guests. He stood there in silence his eyes flickering from their brown to a much darker for a few seconds, but then returned back to normal

Aureole stood quietly, unconsciously tapping her foot. She wanted to get this whole thing over with as quickly as possible.

Brecken and Aureole walked into the gala filled with ball gowns food and pompous people around. As soon as they entered, Brecken disappeared into the crowd to be lost among the many people.

Tamara finally was able to leave and enjoy the gala. She walked straight over to the food table to grab something to eat before she would have to dance with eons of suiters there for her hand.

Aureole went to stand near a corner as soon as she was left alone. Without any idea of what to do, she stood awkwardly and watched the people mingling, studying their features and mannerisms for later use.

Nathaniel was ushered into the gala, donned impeccably - cuff links and everything. He now stood on the sidelines, posture stiff, a poised, practiced smiling plastered on his lips. A hand at the elf’s back continued pressing on his suit, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. Hissed instructions went in one ear and out the other. His mother quickly left after her words, flitting around the gala; his father was, likewise, now in deep conversation with several notable fae. Nathan prayed for no gold eyes. No Jaycee Winshine. Suddenly, he bumped into someone. Pale skin, blue eyes… the girl from the market plaza, his mind registered.

Aureole winced, looking up. "Um, sorry. I'm sort of getting in everyone's way today, and - oh," she said, her brain finally processing the visual information it had been given. "Hello, sorry, I'm not very observant, as you can see."

"No, no, it was my fault," the elf insisted, proceeding to apologize. Cordially, he bowed, eyeing her elbows and knees. "Are you okay?" Nathan rushed out in a hushed whisper, eyes darting around the gala. "From the fall, earlier?" If he was caught showing such compassion to someone not of royal or respectable significance… well, his parents would take care of that.

Aureole smiled faintly. "I'm fine. Probably. I fall a lot, unfortunately, so I'm used to it. I was just vaguely hoping I would arrive to the largest gala in my lifetime with bloodstains on my dress, but I suppose these things happen."

He quirked an eyebrow, smirking. "Now, now." Nathan took on a reprimanding tone, reciting lines, "That is no way to show respect to the Princess. Bloodstains? Do you want her to think you're there to kill her?" He fake gagged, before quickly regaining composure. "Sorry - I'm still a bit angry that my parents refused to let me bring my crossbow here… I digress."

Aureole crossed her arms. "First of all, why would you need to bring a crossbow to a gala? And second of all, I did not intend to come here looking like a zombie, it just happened. I just fall. It's what I do. Leave me alone," she pouted.

A shrug. "You never know, but a crossbow can be extremely useful." There was no embarrassment, only a comical practicality that Nathaniel enunciated his belief with. "And second, I never said you looked like a zombie. It can be refreshing to find someone not swathed in a hazard causing amount of fabrics." He gestured to everyone surrounding them. "Although you should really try to stop falling. It's not a good habit, you know."

Aureole rolled her eyes. "I DO NOT FALL ON PURPOSE. And the only reason I'm wearing this," she gestured to her dress, "is because I'm too poor to afford a good dress. I just borrowed my mum's and made some adjustments. Although, now that I think about it, it may have been better for me to have kept the original length. It might have protected my knees," she said thoughtfully.

Muffling a snort, Nathaniel retorted, "That thin cloth would not have protected your knees from that hard fall. You seem very prone to falling. In fact, why, do tell, did you even fall in the first place?" Sure, it was unprofessional to purposely aggravate someone like this, especially a lady at that. But he was too stressed about Miss Winshine to care about manners at the moment.

Throwing up her hands in the air in disbelief, Aureole stated, "A girl ran past me and I tripped over her. Or she accidentally bumped into me. I don't know. This girl ran past me and then I was bleeding and she gave me some medicine - which I just realized I forgot to use, and - you are such an ass," she informed him, crossing her arms.

He'd been called a lot of things in his life, yet an ass had not been on the list. The girl she was referring to must've been the pickpocket. Ah, yes, he still needed to get eight gold… "You should take that medicine," he prompted, surprised that the pickpocket had given the girl any.

Aureole shook her head. "I'm fine now," she assured him. "No thanks to you," her curls bounced as she sharply turned her head away with a huff.

Openly laughing, Nathan was going to reply when a soft cough floated from behind him. The elf whirled around, fully expecting his mother and her admonishing eyes, accompanied by a condescending tone. An excuse formed at the tip of his tongue - a reason he would be possibly talking to such a lowly figure. Instead, he met rich chocolate skin and shining golden eyes. "Hello, Jaycee."

Aureole froze. "Sorry, I should probably leave, um - sorry," she lilted softly, turning around and looking for another corner to stand in.

Nathan dips his chin, a subtle, discrete nod at her words. Leading the conversation with Jaycee expertly, he gently moves the pair further away from the girl. A small sigh escapes his body, visibly relaxing as he hones his focus onto Jaycee. This, this diplomatic, overly polite, masterful psychology of control was his forte. He analyzed Jaycee, another impatient girl eager to get into his pants - and more importantly, perhaps, his reputation. When would his mother see?

Aureole looked around, a few curls falling into her face as she did so. She impatiently brushed them aside, and tried to see over the crowd, which proved impossible. Even standing on pointe on the tips of her boots, she couldn't see anything. Why did everyone have to be so tall?