The Great Hall

[Margaret Fitzalan]

SatiricaI Prose: The sun sunk low over the mountains, the light of dusk dying against the horizon in a lovely canvas of violent purples, bright fuscias, and dazzling golds. The cold had put everyone into less than merry spirits, it seemed, and so some of the court had decided a dinner party would liven things up a bit. Exactly who had proposed the idea and how it all had come about was beyond the curious Lady Talboys, but she was eager enough to steal away from the library long enough to have a gander at the festivities. She made her way down the long corridor near the entry hall, following the beckon of a fluty tune that filtered out from the Great Hall where a great amassment of company had all taken to dancing and dining in kind. She lingered near the doors, peering in with the curious eyes of a wondering child.

mere heroics: Index finger slid between stifling fabric of starched and stiff shirt, and the smooth slope of throat. Resisting the urge to rip the offending noose of society free. It had been little under three hours since his arrival, and feet were already itching to leave. Edward was a fish out of water, and didn't have the sense to return to his former way of life. All his life he had lived as a commoner, and now he was expected to finish it as a nobleman. He had never asked for his birth rite, but he wasn't stupid enough to kick the gift horse in the mouth either. Truthfully, it wasn't all bad. But it would take some time to become accustomed to all these layers of clothing. Opposite hand held agoblet of wine, green orbs studying the others in attendance with mild interest and unease. Back pressed to a supporting pillar, and a step closer to the door as if ready to bolt at any moment. (d)

SatiricaI Prose: Her face was pale and plain, the exception being those wide, bright eyes that seemed ever-inquiring in their quest to take it all in. A dark curl hung over her shoulder, escaped from the disheveled up-do that had been clumsily contrived before she had ambled her way down into the hall. Her party dress didn't glitter when the lights reflected against the simple, pinstriped fabric as the many shimmering gowns that waltzed acrossed the room seemed to - a slow, stiff, dance that was far too calculated for the tastes of Elizabeth Talboys. She had finer things, certainly, but the idea of fussing over her appearance seemed more exasperating than rewarding. She debated over whether or not to set foot onto the premises, her eyes alert as they scanned the crowd for a particular blue-eyed Viscount she'd been eager to avoid. It was then her gaze fell upon the rigid form of an unfamiliar man lurking nearby. He seemed just as unenthusiastic about his company as she was, and she pressed her fingers over her lips to keep from laughing - she was so terribly amused by his obvious awkardness.

mere heroics: Edward was not a coward. He was hardly afraid of his surroundings or his new responsibilities. He was however, unsure what he should be doing. Uneducated in the dances being performed, and finding little interest in the exchange ofconversation from the small groups that cloistered together here and there, he was beginning to stick out like a sore thumb. Sighing in frustration, before downing the remainder of goblet. Barely had it left his lips before it was being refilled by a servant. Faint nod given in acknowledgment and gratitude, before drifting from his current position in search of something more appealing or at the very least a place to curl up for a nap. Perhaps he could pass it off as a drunken sleep, snore loudly and spill his drink down some lady's gown beforehand. Before long, he'd find an unoccupied alcove, that seemed ideal for hiding while regaining your composure. Or at least, that was the only thought in his mind for it's usefulness at present. (d)

SatiricaI Prose: Having looked away for only a few moments, it seemed she had easily lost track of the gentleman who'd been playing the role of single-serving entertainment. Liz let her eyes flit about the party in search for where the man had got off to, only to discover that it seemed he had simply disappeared into thin air. A regular magician! It was in her search she discovered the very red, eager face of a drunken nobleman nearly twice her age. His beady eyes were twinkling with intent as he started toward her, his sausage-like fingers clamped around the rim of a wine glass. Certain he had a mind to try and engage her in some awful conversation under the impression of which she would surely be made victim to his sour breath and ill intellect, or worse - attempt to engage her in a dance, Liz moved to slip into the room and through the unparting sea of couples who continued on intheir prestine dance. She nearly tripped some poor, red-headed blook in mid-turn with his dance partner, uttering a humbled apology as she fumbled about, ducking behind a large Duke and making to imitate his dance movements in an attempt to blend with the party when she spotted the plump earl on the prowl again. Huffily, she attempted to duck into a curtained alcove in desperation to escape - unwittingly tripping over some bloke's shoe.

mere heroics: Plush cushioning of the fainting couch had greeted his weight like a feather bed. The softness alone, causing a smile to ease it's way onto his lips. He had never bothered to purchase such finery for his quarters on his ships, and now almost regretted it. Although his crew might find such extravagance snicker worthy. Dark head leant against the cool stone of the wall behind his head, eyelids closing as he began to relax, for the first time in the last three hours. However, his little peace of heaven was soon ruined as it was crashed by a less than graceful angel fumbling her way through the curtains for her own escape. Palm of hand immediately connecting with opposing hip to keep her from landing in his lap or spilling his drink. Reflexes quicker than most, from his years as a sailor. Smile brightening slightly at the oddity of the situation, before maneuvering his head around the sultry curve of her hip to catch a glimpse of the room behind her, before it was lost behind the curtain. "I suppose this alcove is big enough for the two of us.." tenor was light with amusement, that reflected in green when it did shift upwards to meet the lady's gaze. (d)

SatiricaI Prose: She stumbled, a sharp gasp escaping the startled girl when she nearly took a spill - but was steadied by a stranger's hand. It was something of a tangle for a moment as she shifted back to straighten up abruptly, easing her hand away from his shoulder (as it had instinctively caught at the fabric of his shirt in her attempt to right herself). An embarassed smile curved her pale lips and brightened her cheeks as Liz smoothed her hands over the front of her dress quickly, easing the ruffled fabric. "I suppose it might be," she replied, deviance filling her eyes as she took in his unfamiliar features. "It all depends on the size of your ego. You should know--" And she paused to shift forward, as though intending to share some ominous secret as she continued in a mutter. "Mine is enormous."

The Siren Maiden: Upon the arm of her brother Anne finally made her appearance into the hall. The gathering for the feast had already begun and many courtiers were spread over the entire room. Bustling about like bees and there was enough to take the focus off of her for the evening, which she was moderately happy about. Her earlier meeting with Master Blunt had left her perplexed as to just what she would tell him the next time they met. The King's birthday would be here sooner than she thought and here she was worried to reveal the innermost secrets of her heart to a man that made his living off writing them. Subtle glances gave her the layout of the room and where almost everyone was located. Though the one she was looking for was Margaret. She sorely needed to speak with her having told her she would days ago. It was truly no secret but in this crowd was actually best for she knew that she could get her off by herself and amidst all the loud talk none would likely overhear. She'd made a request to Henry days ago on the woman's behalf, one that she found him all too happy to permit and it would give her both a coveted ally and a friend. Both of which she could definitely use. "George... I see the Lady Liz is here." She was trying her best to goad her brother knowing well of his infatuation with her. "You should go bid her a fair eve." There was a knowing grin on her face as she glanced over at him noticing that his eyes had already strayed to the voluptuous woman.. another that had become a friend to Anne Boleyn in recent days. (d)

TheBoleynBrother: Escort to one lovely sister Anne the Viscount of Rochford found himself in thoughts from the moment. " Anne, Please. I need to speak with you tonight. " he whispered to her as they strode into the main hall with the others, Already he could see the women bustling about and knew that Anne was going to unceremoniously dump him in the brew like usual typical spoil brat that she was at times. yes, he got away with calling her that. His attention however, was directed towards Lady Talboys and his current point of infatuation. Perhaps more though he swore the woman had bewitched him, He thought to keep his distance as it seemed that the time was bearing down upon him and he was going upon three days now no sleep agian. Steel blues the favored color of the Boleyn's signature eyes that gave them away. " Fine Anne.. " he released her with a swirl of her skirts. IF you must... " thinking she wished to be free of him as usual he was starting to find a pattern here. HELLOOO common give a man some love little..just a smidge. But no. No love for the George. His gaze settled upon Liz watching her with a predatory gaze, that hunter within him coming out once more. as hand pressed to the blue doublet he wore over the braes and boots.

MaighdeanRos: Drawn towards the activities as she made her way along the main hall, to pass through the doors and simply pause a moment after stepping through a few feet. Serenity of smile to naturally rest upon lips, one that easily reached those ocean blue pools of eyes. Rich green satin comprised the gown with golden overlay and brocaid. Flaxen waves drawn back to be contained within rich colored green netting, bejeweled by tiny golden roses. Easing her way further within to curtsy or nod in greeting to those whom she passed. It took but a few moments before she noticed Anne upon her brother's arm and to watch the antics between the two only added to the warmth of her smile. Attention would be drawn away to that of a server who paused to offer a beverage to enjoy. Mulled wine to be her choice for the evening, as the chalice was captured in hand before she'd continue to ease through the crowded room. This is the most lively she's seen the court in some time, and it was a breath taking relief with all that's transpired as of late. A night to figuratively let one's hair down and enjoy what life had to offer. It was as she moved that she noted those who entertained with their music. The waltz they played was a fine tune indeed, but lacked the heart of her homelands jigs. That was something this place needed to liven it up, and if many were well into their cups, quite
MaighdeanRos: humerous the outcome could be as well. A glimmer of amusement within her eyes with this thought as the chalice was lifted to sip from. (d

mere heroics: Eyebrow lifted at the fleeting pass of color upon her cheeks, finding a certain delight in being the cause. But what man didn't enjoy being the stimulant for a beautiful woman's blush? Laughter erupting at her joke, and hand slipped from it's perch, "Then it should devour mine in one sitting." Cue gesture to the empty space beside him, that would provide ample room for her person, "Please, join me." It was lacking a certain polished charm, but he was obviously built from rougher stock than men she was accustomed to. He hadn't risen to execute a bow, nor had he made the appropriate introductions. But what did Edward know of social graces? Nothing. Which is why he had taken to the idea of hiding in the alcove. Hopefully, she would recognize him for what he was, and not as a callous brute. (d)

SatiricaI Prose: Liz instantly took to his less polished demeanor. It suited her misbehaving tendancies just fine. She let her gaze shift toward the offered space against the cushioned seat, and the russet-haired woman moved to find the end of the sofa with a contented smile. "Very well. I suppose I will, if you're so unafraid of losing your pride to my ego's unforgiving appetite." Her gaze was eager to sweep over the dancing couples and familiar faces that stocked the Great Hall beyond the open crevice of the curtain, her gaze coming to settle and linger upon the familiar blue-eyed Viscount. A knowing gleam filled her eye when she captured George's gaze, and Elizabeth shifted forward to casually mutter against her new acquaintance's ear. "How long do you think you will survive here, M'Lord, before the wolves have made you their supper?"

The Siren Maiden: "Later George, and really if it's about father or some message he wishes you to give me tell him I am tired of his instruction and he needs to trust me." Her tone was lowered though she promptly released herself from her brother's arm and as she spotted Margaret she headed right for her. Anne was in a mood tonight as George would seemingly be well aware. However, she needed to speak with Margaret and so if he asked later she'd use that as her excuse for ditching him almost violently. "Lady Margaret... I am glad to see you I think we have something to discuss and I do apologize for keeping you waiting so very long." She did not give the woman much time to answer before she placed her hand gently against her arm and began to guide her out of earshot. One would have to swear it must be that time for Anne as she seemed completely out of sorts this evening. (d)

[Margaret Fitzalan]

TheBoleynBrother: As George had watched her with the man in the alcove he frowned lightly, Cried a river inside, built a bridge got over it. Every night it seemed the woman stabbed him within the gut and twisted the knife a little deeper. nay.. a spork would have been much more vibraint. He let his gaze lock with Liz and for the upmost moment he caught that glint. A smile and half bow given to her even though she was across the room. Hand lifted to try to snag Anne d**n her and her mood swings she had to be just. " It's not about... dad." As she violently dismissed him and he would remember to strangle her later. Hand came to brace the bridge of his nose thumb would smooth over brow lightly then he turned he needed a drink. A last glance given to Liz and seeing her lean towards the gentleman had given his eye a little bit of a twitch. Soft grown in his throat and off to find one of the servers. " Strongest you can find.." he would whisper.

MaighdeanRos: Attention would be drawn from the producers of music and settle upon Anne when she approached. "Fair eve to ye Lady Anne.." Greeting in return. About to respond that no apology was needed, she'd find herself being lead off to the side which puzzled her as much as it made her all the more curious. Once they stopped her eyes would study the woman before her. "All is well, I hope?" Unsure to the nature of what was to be discussed, although Anne had informed her what ever it was, it had passed the King's approval. A glance about to notice how a few of the courtiers were easing closer to the two. When it came to Anne, it always seemed as if ears would press as close as they could to hear what was going on. Now usually Maggie maintained a serene demeanor, sweet and casual. However, the look she gave to those who pressed too close would be one of warning. Many knew not of the Irish woman, though a few were quickly learning. Mainly those who's company she kept, that of the knights she favored so. That look was enough to cause them to withdraw slightly and attention was back upon Anne once more. (d

mere heroics: In no time at all the nameless mishap had settled upon the cushioned seat beside him. Either she didn't mind his social shortcomings, or was tired of standing on her feet. It didn't matter which, so long as she was nearby and tolerated his company for a spell. "Trembling," was murmured in response to her mention of being unafraid, finding her good humor intriguing. Most noble women had encountered so far, had been rather, stiff and uninteresting. Competing in a never ending waltz of feign interest and upturned noses. Edward was fairly certain that was the cause for English women's features becoming pinched in old age. Savoring another sip from goblet, he leant into her, so green could peer over her shoulder at the room beyond the curtain. Creating a far more intimate illusion for anyone who happened to glance in their direction. "Depends. Will the wolves be expressing their dominance or will they be dressed in the finest silk?" clearly inquiry after the distinction between male or female attention he might capture. "What do you wager my chances are?" attention returning to admire the lovely profile offered to him. (d)

SatiricaI Prose: "Well, I'll see if I can find something to render you unconscious," jested the young server who balanced a tray against her flat palm, her vibrant hair braided back off her round face in a perfect plait. It was prudent to remain well composed for the royals - but equally invisible. Dresses of any bright or distracting colors were deemed inappropriate for a simple maid, and so hers was of a somber blue. It was of design and make likened to the other women who flitted about with their trays, and the gentlemen who did the same in attire of the same somber tone. She offered George a pensive smile before turning to start away with every intention of returning with his drink, coming to hault in a curtsey before the Lady Anne and her charming company, Lady Margaret. "May I bring you anything to please you, my ladies?" Liz, meanwhile, turned a mirthful eye to the man at her side before she shifted her inquiring gaze back out to sweep over the party. "As a matter of fact, they will likely be doing both. And I wager things are looking quite grim, for you, sir. You've no chance at all."

The Siren Maiden: Already Anne could see the good of the proposal she was about to make as Magaret was already proving herself to be quite protective of her. As others tried to press close the woman warned them back with but a gaze and she knew well that there was no doubt a weapon hiding there amidst the folds of that gown. She decided to be out with it and as the maid came to offer drink she waved her away. "Not right now.. I shant be staying long." Her attention immediately back to Margaret she smiled. "I do apologize for my seemingly short temper tonight it is not at all directed toward you my lady. I know I told you I needed to speak with you a few days prior and what I wanted to know was if you think you could stand being my shadow. It would require you moving into my rooms as the King feels I am in need of someone close to me capable of handling a would be attacker." Henry had shown his concern not long after Otto Kessler had been arrested and immediately as she'd known Margaret's father had been a Knight of the Garter the woman had come to mind. She too of course had the training. "The King had given me leave to employ you under his name, to be my personal guard. It would only require you being with me as friend and companion to keep a watch for probable attacks on my person." Her voice was kept distinctively low so as to allow none to hear but Margaret and she'd even pulled herself a bit closer to her woman so that she was almost speaking directly into her ear. (d)

TheBoleynBrother: He looked to the server and smiled. "You do that and I'll praise to god for creating you." Hands dropped and he moved and placed behind his back. Clasping lightly. Occasionally he would look towards Liz and her current conquest only look away once more, showing no emotion upon his features though his eyes would have spoke mounds. Where was that d**nable server with his drink! Once more it was a boring night at court as the usual ladies approached and he smiled and unlike George turned them away with nothing more than a polite bow and shift of his footing. His gaze falling upon the floor as he moved, hands still behind his back he began to think perhaps he would be so lucky as to run into Titus or Garrett this eve. After all it was a large room. Pausing momentarily to speak with one of the older ladies as she stopped him he would nod to her carrying on a conversation about his father and passing the time idly for the moment.

Beyond Redeem: Ask and ye shall receive. The Earl of Leicester was strolling in through the west door, looking particularly resplendent in blue and white, the colors of his family. He was fashionably late, of course, which meant his entry was disguised by the gaggle of servants bringing in yet another roasted pig on a platter. A cup of wine was taken from a passing girl, who bobbed before scuttling off. Garrett was then angling himself around the crowd from behind, making d**ned sure the first place anyone would spot him would be near the back. He masterfully inserted himself behind one of the less.. sober.. nobles as he stumbled his way into the crowd. Ah! George! Thank God. He sidled up beside the man and offered a smile and a bow to someone who had waved to him from across the room. No one seemed to be whispering, so he assumed he had gotten away with it, scott free. "George, my boy. Pleasure to see you again." He smiled broadly, even though he looked a little on the tired side. "I hope I haven't missed much save the usual nobs tumbling into their cups and making no effort to extricate themselves." He took a small sip of his own wine, and made a slight face. Too sweet. Sweet wine was awful. He kept his cup, however, as wine was what he needed tonight. Especially after his most recent realization.

MaighdeanRos: A subtle shake of her head to the server, she had but taken a sip from the chalice still held in hand. Focus turned back upon Anne and a slow blink of surprise when she heard the inquire being made. For a moment she simple stood in silence, which may or may not have lead Anne to believe she was hesitant or seriously putting thought into the matter. "I'm honored ..." Soon to be whispered in response and then her head would turn and Anne would gain that smile. "...Doubly so that I have been chosen amoungst all others." Her acceptance of the position would be given before the true implication would hit to home. To be placed as such would mean that she had just been granted something she'd only dreamed of before. Features would reflect this as she would blink again. "Does this mean....?" She was almost fearful to ask, did she hope too much? Was she being granted a position much akin to her father's? With baited breath she'd await Anne's response. (d

mere heroics: Her despairing words produced an exaggerated sigh of defeat. Dark head disappearing from it's vantage point over her shoulder, as he settled back into the cushioned seat. Drinking from his goblet, as he mulled over the possible forward again. "Any particular set of teeth I should be mindful of?" head tilting as he awaited an answer. Edward had presented her with the opportunity to wag her tongue a little with tidbits of who was who. Information that could otherwise be acquired through pulling teeth, or just making a genuine effort to become acquainted with the other richly garbed figures. But that was an awful lot of work, and she seemed like much better company. (d)

SatiricaI Prose: "Hm. Perhaps that blue-eyed gentleman across the room - the one beside the dark-haired Earl in the silly trousers." She couldn't resist the opportunity to poke fun at Sir Garrett. He seemed an easy target. Elizabeth's eyes fixed on George, the very man she indicated her new acquaintance be mindful of. "I hear he's murdered seven men," she lied, grinning to herself and watching as an auburn-headed servant finally made her way back to him after making her rounds. She had found him a particularly untainted glass of whiskey, figuring it may suit his pallet for strong drink. Smiling slyly, she offered the drink out to Lord Boleyn with a muttered "You may begin your praise whenever you see fit." Many may have considered it inappropriate to tease a member of the court, particularly when you were but a lowly maid. Her attention shifted toward Lord Garret and she curtseyed politely before turning to start off again.

The Siren Maiden: Anne only nodded before she spoke fully her gaze leveled on Margaret's now. "I expressed my concern to the King that I should choose for myself as I would want to feel comfortable around the person and feel that I could trust them. I've known you since we were children, my father and yours were friends and I feel more comfortable in your company than I would any other. There are very few people here that I can even turn my back upon. Apparently His Majesty does fear for my life if he sees fit to post me with an intimate guard. Now of course it is to remain a secret, though yes you will receive full honors the same as your father." She smiled then knowing well the huge promotion Margaret had just received. "Congratulations my lady, you are now a Lady of the Garter. I am sure in time the King will see fit to call you to a formal knighting." Still their voices were low and none would be able to distinguish their words. Already, Anne felt comfortable and more relaxed in her company than she had in many days. Lately it had seemed that far too many pairs of eyes watched her with anger and hatred. (d)

TheBoleynBrother: Someone had answered him this night as he spotted the newly aquainted friend Earl Garrett. " Good evening Earl Garrett" giving the man a bow and looking for that server with his drink. " You have missed absolutely nothing. At all. " as that server approached he would release his clasped hands behind his back and take up the drink offered. Feeling the burn of whiskey there was a wolvish smile one of pure predatory delight upon his features. " mmm My dear I will infact start just now." A wink given to the server but, she was allowed to return to her wiley ways for the moment attention coming back to the Earl. " Where have you been as of late? I take it more time with the lovely Lady Jane?" whiskey once more found it's way to be enjoyed and burned an angry line down to his gut settled there already torching flames as he more and more caught glimpses of Lady Talboys and her current rogue. What was she up to? A growl stiffled as he shook his head and tried to focus upon the Earl before him to have a decent conversation.

Beyond Redeem: They were the best trousers since the invention of the sewing needle! His brows drew up as the girl approached, glancing between the young Master Boleyn and her retreating form. "Ah. She's ripe for you, my boy. Best pluck that peach before it falls from the tree." He was taking mental note of who seemed drunk, as drunk nobles often had very loose tongues. He'd do well to draw them into conversations tonight. "I would much rather spend one hundred years in a room filled with cackling old women with problems holding their wind rather than suffer five minutes with that woman." He snorted indelicately into his cup, and started to study the foods laid out on the tables. "I'm a bit peckish, George, come have a seat with me?" He moved off toward one of the less occupied tables, and sat himself down. Anything with meat was readily accepted, cut into smaller pieces with truly honorable form. He looked like a nobleman should, stiff-backed, sober and using both knife and fork on his food, not bodice strings. He also hoped it would distract the lad from saying something rash to a rival. "Who told you I was with Lady Jane, anyway?" He asked it in such a fashion that it sounded wholly, completely casual. He was a scoundrel after all, and scoundrels knew how to lie.

MaighdeanRos: She knew well the secrecy under which those who belonged to the Order lived under. Her entire life had been spent living such with her father belonging to two. The Order of the Bath before that of the Garter he gained his title and postion as Knight. To say she was elated would be quite the understatement, it was all she could do to keep her feet still and not dance a jig right where she stood. Of course, that within would outwardly reflect upon flawless features and her smile to broaden a bit more. "It would seem my father might be returning before the coming of spring." She could almost see the pride in the man as he stood by to watch his daughter's inaugeration to the ranks. Another glance over the room to be taken, ensuring their privacy from those trying to gain a tid bit of information. Spys were abundant in courtly functions such as this under the employ of a vast array of positions. "And the move to your quarters, will that be immediate or when we arrive at the new court?" Already setting things into motion within her mind and the woman was nearly grinning. A glance towards Anne, she'd await the woman's response. (d

[Margaret Fitzalan]

mere heroics: "Rumors have the nasty habit of being embellished," resisting the urge to snort, but couldn't quite stifle the smirk. "So blue eyes is the main contender? He can't be much more than a boy," it was hardly meant to be insulting, just an observation. Edward was an honest sort, and it would likely create many enemies in the near future. "But then, the transition to manhood has to begin somewhere," shoulder rising and falling in dismissal. "Who else? And do they possess names or merely distinguishing features?" teasing her slightly, as his still half full goblet was offered to her. (d)

SatiricaI Prose: "Perhaps my maid would like to tell you," she stated with a raise of the brow. "She seems to have taken an interest in our conversation." True enough, the vibrant-haired girl had been lurking near the curtain of the alcove, her face paling when she heard her mistress's comment. "Forgive me, m'lady," she replied abruptly - stepping before the curtain to make her appearance plain as she dipped into an apologetic curtsey. A wry smile communicated the mischief in her mind, however, as it brightened her youthful countenance. "I was merely looking for amusement." Liz moved to rise from the sofa beside her company, grinning knowingly and casting a glance between her servant and the man settled beside her. "Emily has a nose for trouble and a mind for puzzles. Let her bring you a drink while I slip away for a moment to greet a friend." And with that, she moved to press past the bewildered-looking girl, who slipped into the alcove and stared down at the stranger with a glower. She set her tray aside. "You're doing a fine job of pretending to be a right, awful snob," she accused with a freedom of tongue that would easily have had her dismissed from the palace, had he selected to 'tattle'.

The Siren Maiden: "Immediately, tomorrow morning?" She was soon to take her leave as she was quite tired. Usually that happened when a woman had, had a good cry and earlier after her talk with Eolus Blunt, the King's Playwright, she had indeed let a torrent loose. Now she found even without the help of wine it was hard to keep her eyes open and they felt as though they had sand beneath the lids. "My lady I am going to take my leave for the evening but yes.. tomorrow morning I will send my maid around to help you with your things. There is an adjoining chamber to my rooms that is not being used with a fine bed I am sure will be comfortable for you. I shall leave the door open at night so that you have access should I need you. I thank you sincerely for your acceptance as I would feel no safer with anyone else." She grasped Margaret's hand and held it for a long moment. "Sincerely.. thank you.. I shall see you tomorrow." With that she was whisking away and yes.. avoiding George as she knew that he'd likely try and snag her before she could get out. She was in no mood tonight as she still thought he was wish to speak of there father and his latest agenda for her. (d)

TheBoleynBrother: "Poison I have been poisoned by a beautiful serpents tonge and I fear she would love to bite me agian. With the way she looks at me at times. " His words coming faintly a glance to lady Talboys once more. " Ripe... indeed.. but a fruit that I will leave upon the vine. " He turned upon heel to follow the Earl taking a seat at one of the tables. Young he may be but, let not the cover of a book fool one. Eyes closed as he took pleasure within the whiskey more feeling it begin to numb the clinching pain within his gut everytime he looked towards Lady Talboys, As the glass found purchase to the table he quickly grabbed one of the servants arms reaching for it to refill it with sweet wine. "None of the fairy's spit for me .. Whiskey... " the half empty glass now shifted away from anymore quick to try to cover a nobles needs. He had plenty to take care of that for now. Resolving within himself he would try not to follow Liz as she had started to move away from her current interest. "hmm."

MaighdeanRos: Good thing she was already prepared and packed, it will make the immediate move much simpler. Nod of her head in acceptance. "In the morn it will be then my lady." Offering Anne a curtsy as she made known her intent to turn in for evening known. "I bid ye to rest well and I'll check on ye this evening before I turn in myself." She would make a point of stopping by the library before retiring herself, to see if a particular volume had been returned. Anne's hand would be given a light squeeze in return. "No thanks be needed, Anne... I am truely honored with the position given." Releasing her hold of Anne's hand. "Rest well I bid ye, my friend." Friends as children that had been maintained over years and distance between them. Their father's direction would be their own as to placement. Watching as Anne whisked away across the room, attention would return upon those gathered presently, albiet a bit unseeing as her thoughts and internal visions would occupy her for the moment. (d

mere heroics: To Edward's credit, he did not display any outward sign of surprise or unease when he previous company chose to leave him for another. It was the way of things, and wouldn't be addressed with a request for her to remain. Besides, she left behind a spitfire, an individual he would be more comfortable with than any other occupant of the room. "Pretending? I was born with my nose to the sky and mouth turned down," mouth forming a grim, disapproving frown; while index finger met tip of nose and tilted it upwards. Once he had contented himself with a mockery of the general idea of a nobleman, finger dropped away and smile would return. "I had nothing to say, and did not wish to gather a host of clucking tongues," offering her an explanation, not a defense. It would take Edward a while to see her as merely as a servant, and not another person like himself. (d)

SatiricaI Prose: Liz found her way across the room to where George had found the company of food and the prestine Lord Garrett. She cast a glance over her shoulder toward the alcove before fixing her attention upon the blue-eyed Boleyn Brother, approaching him from behind and allowing her hand to find his shoulder so that she might trace her fingers along the back of his neck as she slipped from his right side to his left. Liz lowered herself beside him, keeping her tone barely above a mutter as she spoke against his ear. "It's been said you are quite the ladies man, Lord Boleyn. That you make taking young women into your bed an artform." Meanwhile, Emily moved to step behind the couch and find her niche in the corner - propping herself down against the sofa's arm so that she might not be so easily spotted schmoozing with a noble. She reached out to tug the curtain closed a bit, giving them a more narrow (but still effective) view of the party outside. "Give it some time," she replied, looking over at him with a girlish smile. "You'll be mingling with the lot of them, and just as easily turning your nose up at the likes of me before you know it. For now, though, I think I will take full advantage of my once-in-a-lifetime to speak freely with a member of the King's court."

TheBoleynBrother: Sputtering fool almost he would become as that touch had found him, He had lost her amid the crowd only to feel the slide of slender digits trailing his form. A growl in his throat feeling her so near. Shifting his blues towards Liz only to lean slightly a bit more in her direction to hear her words. " Ahh fair lies to say the least I have but one young woman to take to my bed though I find that she has this frustrating habit of blowing me off for the next pretty face. I also hear she had lied to me of her engagement.. " his hand slipped down her arm unseen beneath the table taking her hand slowly fingers would curl over her hand feeling the soft flesh. He restrained the urge to snag her from the dinner and drag her off to a private setting to give her the third degree of her previous companion, trying like hell to break the bewitchment of her. However it took but one look back upon her features and he was smitten agian. There were times he felt she was his fair Helen of troy and downfall. " Have dinner with me tomorrow. " he was quick to speak suddenly.

MaighdeanRos: Drawn back to the here and now with the approach of a server, she'd offer a sheepish smile and thankfully trade her drink for one fresher. She'd begin the slow motion of moving through the room again, stopping occassionally to speak with a few she's come to know. One of the knights with whom she had been granted the priviledge of training with would soon enough gain her attention. The two would move off to the side and begin a low toned conversation. (d

mere heroics: Edward would reward her with a chuckle, even though it wasn't meant to be a joke. But the idea that she was consoling him was entertaining. Did he paint such a pathetic picture? Was the act of socializing such a big part of being in attendance at the King's court? Perhaps there was a manual somewhere, with all the rules and guidelines he could study. "Such a day is not in the near future, Emily," using her name, to identify her and prove that he had been paying attention. "Now, who is your mistress speaking with?" shifting gaze towards the blue eyes gentleman he had been warned about. (d)

Salem DeLaCourt: : Moonlight bled down from the heavens as if a shooting star had pierced the illuminate flesh of the earth circling orb. Each shimmering beam seemed caught in the raven coils which kissed at his cheek like a lover's caress. Salem tonight bore no signs of women's clothing, though he could not leave the attire to simple silks and doeskin pants. Ruffles, the man demanded to have a flair about his wrists and the lining which encircled his neck and the center of his chest. Doeskin pants rested tightly against his thighs, creating curves about his lower form which mimicked that of a women's body. About his waist fine scarves dangled and danced with each stride that hid powerful legs could provide. Every heard of being Fashionably late? Well, that was what tune, the Frenchman followed. Past the doors of the Grand hall he went, into the belly of the palace where every voice had a new sound and each world echoed off well painted walls.:

SatiricaI Prose: "Dinner?" Liz grinned to herself, pieces of those wild curls having escaped her unceremonious up-do to graze her shoulder as she shifted her devious gaze back toward Lord Boleyn. "To what purpose, Sir? Will you charm me out of my dress?" Her eyes flashed with her mischief, and Emily smirked to herself as she followed the stranger's gaze to Lady Talboys - who predictably had gone to join Sir Boleyn. "That, sir, is Viscount George Boleyn - brother of Lady Anne Boleyn. There are plenty rumours circling about Anne and the King, though I wouldn't give any credit to any of them. The queen certainly seems to, though," she muttered, turning her gaze back to Edward and widening her remarkably innocent eyes as she continued. "You haven't been charmed, have you? It would be a pity to see you die of an agonized heart so soon," she teased, something mischevious filling her murky eyes.

TheBoleynBrother: He would smile and looked over his shoulder leaning in to keep thier conversation a little private. " Ahh My beautiful serpent if I wished you merely charmed from your dress I would have taken you that first night within the halls. He chanced a touch while none were to watchful fingers lifted to trail the line of her jaw and tilt her head in that defiant manner she so often held when around him. Though she drove him made he wished nothing more than to understand her and try to bewitch his mind from the enigmatic enigma she had become. " Do not make me ask more than once Liz.. Dinner and nothing more. " Capturing one of those rogue curls that had escaped and shifting it back with a calloused touch so unlike most of the more noble of men here.

MaighdeanRos: During her conversation being held, the room would occassionally be glanced over. It would be during this time she noticed the entry of the fancy Frenchman. Amusement glimmered within pools of blue as she took in the frilly figure. Her first introduction to those of his homeland, and quite the impression she made, for now all were thought to be the same as he. Quite the assumption was made of how all French were, and acted. The one to whom she spoke with bade his leave upon the arrival of a fellow companion that needed a moment of his friends time. A nod as she offered her good eves to both men, then would begin to slowly make way back into the throng of the crowd, her path would eventually cross that of the newly entered. (d

[Margaret Fitzalan]

mere heroics: Charmed. It would take a little longer than a few minutes to become enchanted with anyone. And while Emily's mistress had been beautiful and interesting, she hadn't managed to capture anything of true value within the man. But there was always the possibility. "Heart failure isn't my first choice of death," as if promising himself, before offering the helpful servant a genuine smile. Rising from his seat, goblet still in hand, a small bow was issued to her. "You have been most informative," moving forward, with intent to move beyond the separating curtain and leave behind the safety of the alcove. "I'll add my name to your knowledge bank and you can determine whether or not it'll be worth repeating, Edward Clinton Fiennes," giving her a last look over shoulder. "But do call me Edward, and I hope we meet again," and with that, he was gone, making his way from the great hall to retire for the evening.

Salem DeLaCourt: "Bonjour Ma Cher, jou art fairer zen ze evenin'air. Clad in ze beautah o' a t'ousand ztars." : Words dripped from his lips like sweet honey from the hive, kissing her ears with exquisite marks . A slender hand which adorned rings upon each digit carefully took her own, and brought it to the swell of his lips. A light grace of his mouth danced across her knuckles, each fine mountain obtaining the equal amount of attention from the fleshy barricades. He pulled back, his tongue savoring the taste of her skin as it ran over the lower portion of his mouth. Dark eyes watched her from behind a sea of thick lashes, every movement she made, became a memorized step, he even took note to the pace of her breathing.:

SatiricaI Prose: "Dinner - and nothing more," she repeated in a mutter, mulling it all over as her hand slid over his under the table, beyond the watchful eyes of their company. Her fingers slipped under his hand, gently tracing the lines of his palm as she turned her thoughts over in her mind - a pregnant silence passing between them before she shifted her gaze back to him. "I think you are mistaken, my lord. For it would be a great deal more than a simple dinner. Far more complicated than the dull meeting of minds and the gesture of friendship over a plate of fine food." She gave his hand an emphatical squeeze before drawing away and moving to stand abruptly. "But I will meet you for dinner, none the less - only if you insist there will be dessert." Emily, meanwhile, had watched the Duke of Gloucester take his leave with a doleful smile, her fingers grasping at the curtain as she lingered behind to watch him depart before she shook the wistful, foolish thoughts from her mind and eased back out among the chaos to resume her duties as server.

TheBoleynBrother: That silence he held with baited breath as he looked her over a sigh parting lips and for a moment he thought once more she would deny him, That's when he felt her touch, the silken slide of fingertips that alerted his body to every ince of her but, not once bit of the people around them. The Jekyll to his Hyde peeking it's vicious head as he wanted nothing more than to steal her into the shadows and dance that serpent dance once more. How the witty Lady Liz had him entranced in thier devil's dance for the moment. " Oh my dear I promise you nothing less than that full course meal with dessert perhaps I can persuade you to stay on even for a nightcap, but I will not await with baited breath and feel that sting of your venomous tongue should you refuse. " when she accepted he about had a heart attack yea.. the man would probably die of a cronary if he kept it up with Lady Talboys but oh how he loved the games
TheBoleynBrother: they played the intrigue alone kept him wanting. But slow ... slow he would take this for it was not something he would rush she was not a conquest of that he had become sure in his mind, sleepless nights leaving him thinking of only her and what silly wit she might bring forth if asked. And is by que he would ask. " Tell me what is upon your mind. " but already and to late she was standing pulled from his grasp leaving him, Awaiting the morrow with much more fervor... " Server.. More Whiskey!" he was going to need it.

MaighdeanRos: That smile would broaden and she'd even lightly chuckle as she was confronted with the Frenchman. "So kind you are with poetic words, Mister de la Court." A light flush would none the less hint upon apples of cheeks, and a curtsy would be offered none the less. "You honor me too much." Said upon rising while focused upon him. "It's good to see you again, and what a striking figure you cut this evening." She found the man a refreshing relief from the starched egos and attitudes of so many within the Court. All seeming to think they had something to prove. Not this man! A statement he indeed made of being unuique. A passing server would be motioned to, in order to gain a new drink for herself and one for Salem. (d

Salem DeLaCourt: "Pink iz jour Colah Ma Petite..." : Slender digits took hold of the offered drink. Index and thumb wrapped themselves about the delicate stem before the metalic rim was set below the upper portion of his lip. He took a slow sip, allowing the crimson liquid to dance across his tongue and slide down his throat like a soothing touch. Dark hues were swallowed up by a sea of thick lashes as the thin layer of flesh known as his eyelids closed about the orb. He swooned at the rich flavor, allowing a purr to escape from deep within his chest. Simply after the moment of ecstacy his eyes reopened and a gentle touch was graced across her cheek.: " Non, jou 'onah Moi...."

SatiricaI Prose: Liz had started off, pausing at the proposed question from George, however. She turned back to eye him deviously - watching him hail some more whiskey and giving it a moment's contemplation before she moved to step back to the blue-eyed Viscount. "It would not do you well to know the wickedness in my mind, my lord. Perhaps you would be better suited to ask me at a time when I am more the angel, and less the devil's minion." Liz moved to draw even closer to the man, then, drawing low to kneel by his side and leaning forward to let her lips find the lobe of his ear a second time. "But if you must know, George, I'm considering finding some fresh, young thing from the King's guard and taking him off to my chambers to relieve my frustrations and discard him as easily as he'll surely come." Surely, she was teasing. Surely. As the Lady Margaret gestured for Emily, she was quick to fall into stride toward the woman, hearing Lord Boleyn's cry for more whiskey nearby and feeling instant exasperation that her fellow staff seemed to be slow and unobliging this eve. "Yes m'lady? How can I please you?" It was disgustingly proper, to the extent that a girl with a spirit of the less tempestuous nature would not have been so irked by her own false desire to serve. Her gaze shifted toward the waltzing couples in an unconscious effort, a glimmer of longing filling her eyes as she wished she could dance and feast and be merry - as opposed to simply waiting on those who could.

TheBoleynBrother: A growl Came from him and surely she had pushed the wolves buttons a bit to much as he quickly pushed up. Waving off the whiskey her nip to his ear.. Ea gads! he was going to go made. " My Lady Talboys a word." he eased up her gently but, held a firm grip upon her for the moment. Linking her arm rather possessively suddenly through his own but, to others would seem a kind and gentle gesture. And started to steer her through the crowd and out within the corridors. He had not forgotten that sting of a slap she placed upon his features the right night within the room after the incident within the library but, He had very fondly remembered it for two days after where the welt still had remaind upon his features and been remembered with fondness even jokes to the Duke Titus and Earl Garrett. As he stole her away within the corridors of the hall and out of the main room. Keeping clasp to her hand so she could not escape.

MaighdeanRos: That touch would only deepen the color and cause the lowering of lashes. "You, my good sir..." Words offered in a quiet nature. "... have a tongue forged from the purest grade of silver." Slowly lashes lifted to unveil pools of blue to peer upwards at him. The serenity of that smile to be upon her lips. Her tone had been one of a teasing nature, it wasn't meant as an insult in any way. A glimmer of amusement within her eyes would be more than evidence of that fact. "I thank you for them." (d It would be at that moment the server arrived and a step back to be taken. An almost guilty look upon features as she offered the woman a smile. "Wine, please." A moment to collect herself and a glance towards the Frenchman. "Wicked man." Another tease offered. (d

Salem DeLaCourt: "Silvah hm? Moi doz 'ope I 'ave a pair o' earingz zat will match. One can nevah go wrong wit' accessoriez..." : He flashed her a smile of bright pearls. Dark eyes found the gaze of the Servant, molten eyes drinking in her appearance like a star crossed lover.: " Merci Ma Cher...Peopah o' zubstance may zin wit'out bein' expozed fer zeir ztolen pleasure...." : He whispered softly before returning his sights upon Maragret.: " Are jou enjoyin' jourself within ze new landz.? " :His gentle touch moved carefully across her cheek, ending where his digits cupped her chin like a noble gesture.:

SatiricaI Prose: Those molten eyes may have been drinking in a bit much for her to handle, even if every swallow was made with innocent intent. She shifted her gaze away modestly, longing desperately to be elsewhere at that moment. Hell, mopping the kitchen floors suddenly seemed a blessing. She chose to say nothing, grinning to herself like an impish gnome who was up to some mischief or another before she turned on her heel and moved to leave the nobles to their scandals. Were it not a scandal now, it would surely be one later. More for the cooks and the maids to gossip about after hours, no doubt - and she heard every word of it (though was prudent about repeating very little). Emily cast a wary glance back toward the Frenchman and the Lady before shifting out of the Great Hall. She'd had enough service for one night, and figured she was better off in the kitchens handling the dirty plates.

[Margaret Fitzalan]

MaighdeanRos: Quite a scandal it could perhaps turn into, if taken out of
context for all it was. A soft clearing of her throat as she could feel the
warmth flush her cheeks with each movement of his touch. "It still be taking
some getting use to, though it's not too much different from what where I've
come from. It's just getting to know all here. Not an easy task, unless one
was to utilize gossip and rumors to be the basis of their learning tool."
Having forgotten she still held a chalice of wine within her hand, though but a
swallow left, it would be enough to sait that need for something to drink.
"Speaking of which, are ye Nae in the employ of that Baroness that was
recently attacked?" Little else had been heard about the woman's well being. It was as if being kept a secret if the Baroness still lived or had succumbed to her injuries it was rumored inflicted upon her. (d

Salem DeLaCourt: : At the mention of Carlotta being injured, heat crept up
into his flesh. Unfortunately the man had been away on personal business and
had yet to return to the manor for which his services were required. Salem
had known Carlotta for years, a bond which had grown into a close relationship as if they were bound by blood. A few raven curls had slid into his gaze, one
which had narrowed into a hated glance. Though this anger was not meant for
Margaret, but for the fiend who dared touch her.: "...Non...Moi 'ad nevah 'eard
o' zis newz till now." : Fingers tightened around the chalice which he held
close to his breast. The fingers which were pressed against her tender cheek
drew away to play about with his sash.: " When did zis occur?" : His tone had
become serious, lacking that seductive twang which usually played about with
his words:

MaighdeanRos: The immediate change of demeanor was quite evident and would
cause a brow to rise slightly in surprise. The man was a chameleon? One who
could blend in well with any setting to hide true nature. A bit taken back in
his not knowing of this, at least with the rumors that seemed to be running
rampant about a man hunt. "Almost a week ago, I believe it to be now. It's
said to have happened at the docks. The exact nature of what happened I'm not
positive of, but the story of her attack has been quite stead fast in what's
said to have happened. She was attacked by someone, and I've heard her
injuries to be everything short of a butchering to that of fatal wounds.
She's being kept at her estate, under a heavy cover of men guarding. Not those of our military either, it's said it's the foremen and over seers of the plantation, and several sailors and dock workers who have taken on this position." Brows furrowed slightly. "Not much in the sense of information other than that is heard and I can't attest as to which truth is or exaggerated tales. I knew the woman not well enough to invite myself to her home and see for
myself. It would be nothing more than morbid curiosity, which is quite a
dishonorable action." (d

Salem DeLaCourt: : Salem took a rather large swallow from the wine goblet,
enough so that he drained the contents dry. It wasn't a gulp which he savored
either, it was more of a way that he could washed the bitter taste away from
his mouth. Fingers danced along the rim before he set the chalice upon a
passing servants tray.: "...Non, Merci fer bringin' zis to moi'z attention."
: Dark eyes slowly closed once more so that the row of lashes could brush
against the lower portion of his eye sockets.: " Mon Dieu...." : A captive breath slowly escaped constricted lungs before he allowed himself to view the world again. Hues traveled back to Margaret's face.: " Zat woman...iz like a siztah to Moi. Crimzon will flow, when ze capture ze Baztard. I will perzonalah bath Moi'z zword in 'iz blood...." :The thick accent drawled off his lips in a
malicious tone, though softened as he shook his head.: " Pardon Moi, Ma Cher.
I non ment to be zo.. 'ow do jou zay....angered." : The Cross dresser had many
sides to him, it was quite a sight to see when every emotion was splayed
out.: " Mm...but jour companah eazes Moi'z 'eart....."

MaighdeanRos: Empathy. How could she not feel for the man when he made such
a statement? "I'm truly sorry..." Hesitant was the reach at first, though in
the end she'd reach out to rest her hand lightly against his arm. "I'm
sorry." There was little else she could think to say. What exactly did one say,
At a time like this. "If in any way I can help, ye need but only ask." Cliché
as those words may have been, they were whole heartedly meant. His apology
would be waved off. "Please. If it was someone close to me, I would know
exactly how you feel." Words meant to sooth as she'd offer him the warm
nature of that smile. This would grow slightly more with the last of his
words. "Even in the midst of such, your charm is hindered not. An amazing man you are Mister de la Court." (d

Salem DeLaCourt: "Merci Ma Cher....": His hand lightly washed over her own
as it remained resting upon his forearm.: " Are jou 'ungrah?" : He decided it
was best to change subjects before his blood boiled over in his veins.: "
Come, letz 'ave zum fun no?" : Salem took her hand and weaved his way past the
Lords and Ladies of the manor who seemed to be heading to their beds. Of
course he knew there was food about, it was in plain sight and was dressed
about the tables. But he wanted to show her the skills he possessed in the kitchen. Salem waved his hands for the servants to leave the quarters, grinning like Cheshire cat at the Irish rose.: " Zweet or Saltah?"

MaighdeanRos: Intrigued. How different he was, a beacon of light in the midst of any storm. "I'm sure I could nibble on something." Said with a light
hearted laugh. Quiet surprised she was to find herself lead from the great
hall and into the kitchen. Not that she knew her way not around one, she was an
able bodied cook if need be. Culinary skills though excelled upon the open
trail, for not many knew their way around a campfire like they did a stove or
oven. She could feel the flush of cheeks when she felt the eyes of the staff
turn to linger upon her, then the Frenchman before they filtered out. Tongues
were already wagging as soon as they stepped through the door. Her focus
remained upon him, this way she didn't have to meet their gazes. A honest thought placed within her choices. She had heard of the skills the French held with their sweet delights, not that she had ever tried anything other, but that
did tempt the sweet tooth she held. "Sweet." (d

Salem DeLaCourt: "Good, Moi iz in ze mood fer zat az well. Zalty may pleaze
ze tongue. Bu' zweet can pleaze ze bodah..." : A long lash wink swallowed up
an almond hue before he turned to look about the cupboards. He was quite
happy when he found a bowl of fresh fruit. Ripe pears and plump raspberries sent
his heart into a flutter. He brought each God made treat up to his nose,
taking a moment to allow the sultry scent to slither up into his nostrils.: "
Perfect..." : He swooned, allowing a low purr to escape from deep within his
chest. Food to him could cause the body more pleasure than any words or
touch. His fingers danced over their lush frames before he began to take a
knife to the pear. He sliced the object in half, stuffing the hole which he had
carved out with the raspberries. He did this till the amount he had chosen
was used. Index and thumb offered her the belly of the pear, urging her to
taste it. He was quick to acquire what else was needed to complete the recipe. He made the dough rather quickly, adding in vanilla and lemon juice to the soft
exterior. Quietly he wrapped the pear with the sheet of dough, making a the
fruit to appear to be encased in a coin purse.: "Now...to ze oven...." : And with that they were placed upon a tray and shoveled into the heated cavern.:

MaighdeanRos: She'd move to a counter where a stool rested at it's side.
Here she'd settle in a position to offer her full view of his actions. Head
to occasionally tilt to which ever direction was necessary to better view
actions taken. When he offered her the fruit, she had an instant vision of Adam and Eve in the forbidden garden. Don't ask where that comparison came from, it
just popped into her head and caused her to chuckle lightly. Taking it in
hand before the tender flesh was drawn to lips, the tip of pink muscle slipped forth to capture a small trail of juice that trickled over it. Lips to part
slightly as it was drawn closer to suckle yet more of the sweet nectar before
pearly whites parted to sheer off a piece of firm meat. She'd continue to enjoy the heart offered, while watching the conclusion of his preparation. Finished the hard husk that still remained would be placed upon the counter. "What do you
call this you make?" Tongue to trail over the soft surface of bottom lip,
capturing what juices remained as a hand lifted with the intent to wipe that
which remained away. (d

Salem DeLaCourt: : Dark eyes rose to meet her's as a ripe berry was snuck
into his mouth. He almost looked like a child, sneaking in a treat before
dinner. It was a guilty pleasure of his and he couldn't help but purr once
more as the juices exploded within the moist cavern of his mouth.: " poire bourrée en pâtisserie or ratha. ztuffed pear in Pastry. Verah simplah name fer a deliciouz treat." : He peeked inside the oven, watching as the outer flesh of
the pastry began to grow golden brown.: " Ze pear will zoften inside ze shell,
meshin' all ze flavorz togethah..." : His hand found a simple dish cloth
before he went to extract the treat from the depths of the fiery pit.
Carefully he placed them on a rack to cool. Silken coils thought they would be rebellious as they slid out from behind the tender shell of his ear. After a period of time passed, he took one of the pastries within his hand, and placed the very center against her lips.: " Tastez...."

MaighdeanRos: Lips parted as her intent was to repeat the name of the dish
in his native tongue. But when she had a hard time repeated it within her
head, mute would be the attempt and instead she'd simply smile. "Sounds
absolutely delicious." Continuing to watch until such time as he'd present her with one of the finish products. Slow blink as it was lifted to her lips, though
she needed little urging in which to do that very thing. Lips parted as it
met with the filled portion of the pastry presented. She couldn't help that soft
humming sound .. "Mmmmm..." When the flavors of the fruit and pastry assaulted
taste buds in that oh so pleasant manner. Flaxen lashes to lower slightly as
the sound of pleasure would be accompanied by the look upon flawless
features. "How delightful." Lids slowly rose to unveil those ocean blues that
so easily reflected the serenity of the smile now resting upon lips. (d

Salem DeLaCourt: :There was nothing more pleasing to him, than to see the
expression of people's faces when they ate his work. He could not stand those
who would nibble then only offer a smile or a nod in response. He loved to
hear the different sounds each person would make out of sheer pleasure after
tasting his work. Slender fingers took hold of his own pastry and his lips
were quick to begin assaulting it. Another swoon was offered as the flavors
explored each taste bud and slithered down his throat. The curve of his index rose to rest beneath her chin, tilting her head upwards slightly. The pad of his
thumb lightly graced over her lips, snatching up the fallen juices which were
pushed from the fruits body as she bit down. Without word he drew that
digit back to his own mouth, suckling on it lightly till the droplets
disappeared.:

MaighdeanRos: If one was to have been eavesdropping, surely the sounds heard
would be told to be for other reasons than the enjoyment of food. Eyes met
his with the light pressure of his touch in chin's rising. When his thumb
gently caressed over her lips, to be withdrawn to meet his own, she could feel the warmth which engulfed features. A deep breath taken as attention would shift
to the remaining portion of the pastry he still held. "Quite the talent you
have, Mister de la Court." Exactly what was she referring to? Perhaps everything
about the man. Hand lifted and fingers would lightly brush against his in the
motion to take on the burden of feeding herself. She truly didn't wish to
imposition the man with having to feed her and himself simultaneously. (d

Salem DeLaCourt: :He laughed as she hinted with the subtle touch that he no
longer needed to hold the pastry.: " Merci, Merci....I 'ave alwayz loved teh
cook. Even when Moi wuz a child. O' courze, back zen I non 'ad a pot to pizz
in..." : He grinned even as such vulgar terms left his lips.: " I grew up on ze
zea'z...." : He shifted slightly as he took another bite of the fruit filled
dough.: " Zou, I wish I could zay Moi'z papa wuz a simpah merchant, non...'e
wuz a Pirate. A theiving man wit' a 'eart zat outwayed ze world in gold..."
: He tucked his tongue into his cheek, suckling on it lightly before
releasing it for another round of words.: " Jou know. I Started off az ze
wrozt Sailor. I got zeasick verah easlilah..." : He pressed an index to his lips.: " Zat iz our Zecret..."

MaighdeanRos: Once the pastry was within her control, it was immediately
being enjoyed. As he spoke of his life growing up, there was a pause as he
spoke of his father's trade, and the fact he grew up under such
circumstances. Quickly she'd look about before attention was back upon him. "You should never make such a statement openly like that." Slowly shaking her head. "Just admittance to any association could get you hung." Piracy was a criminal offense and such offenders to be captured found their trial to be quick. Usually the distance from their capture to the nearest tree, unless to be
turned into an example. It was a warning, for some reason she didn't feel as
if the man still practice such a trade. He was a cook within the noble home of a
Baroness after all .... And that's what gave her pause, yet again. Slowly
things were trickling back into her mind of things she's heard along the
grapevine. "It would also bring scrutiny against those in which you associate." Which would include herself to be questioned. She hoped he understood the gravity of her words. She had come to enjoy the company of the Frenchman; he made her smile and laugh. (d

Salem DeLaCourt: "Ma cher... I know zis. I watched 'im 'ang." : His words
left his lips as if the pain no longer existed.:" I 'ear all jou zay. An' I
fear non. But jou should non worrah. Wut' Moiz Papa did an' wut I do. Iz
different ...." : He had finished off the treat and took to looking her in the eye.: " To provide for jour familah any way jou can iz non a crime. A childz 'unger can drown ou' ze wordsz o' caution...." : His fingers reached for the nearest thing that contained liquid, and he was quite happy when he found the
taste to be of wine, instead of stale dish water.:

MaighdeanRos: And as she had predicted, that smile would eventually return.
"I know it shouldn't be viewed as such, but sadly it is." Honesty was the
best policy, and the Irish woman was as honest as they got. Her own pastry
would soon be finished and the task of cleaning finger's tips would follow
after with the use of lips and tongue. "Thank you Salem for such a fine treat." Using his given name without permission or thought. The comfort level of the company he provided and the less formal setting of the kitchen made it easy to do. "And for the grand company you've provided me this evening." (d

Salem DeLaCourt: : Salem's smile graced his lips once more. Carefully he
placed the palm of his hand against the back of her head as he cradled the
base of her skull. Lush lips tainted with wine and fruit pressed against her
own. He gave her lower barricade a light pull with the fronts of his teeth before he pulled away. It was confusing at times for people to understand what team Salem batted for. Delicate curls came into his gaze as he pulled away.: " Ze pleasha wuz all mine Ma Petite...." : he gave her cheek a like cup before
was making his way towards the grand ball room. He had hoped he left her with
wanting more, and if not the pastries would have to compensate. He gathered
his things and adjusted a ruffled sleeve before heading in the direction
of the exit.:

MaighdeanRos: Quite off guard and never expecting such to happen, that when
it did her breath hitched and she could feel the flush it caused to rise from
her waist before reaching the apples of cheeks. Could one's upper body blush?
What other explanation could be provided. Speechless to say the least,
as she could do little else but sit there and watch as he departed. A hand
lifted to press the coolness of palm to the warmth of her cheek as that pink
muscle slipped forth to capture the remnants of the taste he left behind. She
couldn't help but to smile, even if he left her a bit flustered and confused.
When the Frenchman exited, the staff began to slowly filter back in to gaze
inquisitively upon her and that rosy complexion of her's. A soft clearing
of her throat as she stood to quickly recompose herself. A smile and nod
offered to the staff as she moved passed and following in Salem's wake. (d