Fisel tilted her head, the curl at the end of her mouth said all the things her mouth was not saying. Had he only been told? Did not seem like the type to fancy idle gossip.
Did not seem the type to fancy ladies.
Did not seem to fancy anyone.
She was not judging on any outward expression of preference. She was not a vain woman, therefore could take no offense to his lack of intrigue on her person. Could not read his expression through the mask, so perhaps he was noticing more than she was privy to.
The thief had scouted the estate for three days, mostly unwillingly, since the Baron chose to keep unusual hours. She'd witnessed nary a soul coming or going, including the master of the house. He did not keep company, did not seem to seek it out, ever absent from the parties and carnivals. She would now, she attended more than he, and she was not even invited to them.
Very curious.
Very intriguing, this Baron of Corvana.
There was no opposition to seeing more of the manor, more of what the Baron worked on late into the night, but that was surely impossible given her current state of capture, and her likely future state of being forcefully expelled from the premises.
"As you should be," she breathed, momentarily distracted by the magic of the ring, strangely cold, given how long he'd handled it, and then by the feel of his skin against hers, tingling with magic of his own. Blinking away from him, she turned her attention back to the ring, holding it to her eye level for proper inspection, she could see the runes being left on her skin. Recognized them as being similar to the charm used on the lock. It was hers, if not permanently then definitely for a short while.
She looked back to him when he spoke, he had remained noticeably close, she half expected him to return to his position of looming, though he was still quite large, even kneeling beside her. He asked her such boring, typical questions, she didn't know whether to laugh or frown.
"Nathaly," she lied, easily, on the account of her name.
Except… that she didn't. Her brow furrowed as she recalled the sound of her own voice in her ears admitting that her name was 'Fisel'. She narrowed her eyes at him. What an underhanded, sneaky, clever bastard. Unfortunately for her, her newfound preference for truth-telling did not stop there. The one time she did not keep a peppermint leaf beneath her tongue, this happened.
"You are quite the talk to the festivities, Baron. A well known scholar, practitioner, patron of the magicks. The whispers surrounding you are the height of the masquerade, and I will admit it left me curious. I came to see what you had tucked away."
Did not seem the type to fancy ladies.
Did not seem to fancy anyone.
She was not judging on any outward expression of preference. She was not a vain woman, therefore could take no offense to his lack of intrigue on her person. Could not read his expression through the mask, so perhaps he was noticing more than she was privy to.
The thief had scouted the estate for three days, mostly unwillingly, since the Baron chose to keep unusual hours. She'd witnessed nary a soul coming or going, including the master of the house. He did not keep company, did not seem to seek it out, ever absent from the parties and carnivals. She would now, she attended more than he, and she was not even invited to them.
Very curious.
Very intriguing, this Baron of Corvana.
There was no opposition to seeing more of the manor, more of what the Baron worked on late into the night, but that was surely impossible given her current state of capture, and her likely future state of being forcefully expelled from the premises.
"As you should be," she breathed, momentarily distracted by the magic of the ring, strangely cold, given how long he'd handled it, and then by the feel of his skin against hers, tingling with magic of his own. Blinking away from him, she turned her attention back to the ring, holding it to her eye level for proper inspection, she could see the runes being left on her skin. Recognized them as being similar to the charm used on the lock. It was hers, if not permanently then definitely for a short while.
She looked back to him when he spoke, he had remained noticeably close, she half expected him to return to his position of looming, though he was still quite large, even kneeling beside her. He asked her such boring, typical questions, she didn't know whether to laugh or frown.
"Nathaly," she lied, easily, on the account of her name.
Except… that she didn't. Her brow furrowed as she recalled the sound of her own voice in her ears admitting that her name was 'Fisel'. She narrowed her eyes at him. What an underhanded, sneaky, clever bastard. Unfortunately for her, her newfound preference for truth-telling did not stop there. The one time she did not keep a peppermint leaf beneath her tongue, this happened.
"You are quite the talk to the festivities, Baron. A well known scholar, practitioner, patron of the magicks. The whispers surrounding you are the height of the masquerade, and I will admit it left me curious. I came to see what you had tucked away."
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Luminalia [Closed] - by Tindome - 01-27-2016, 10:44 PM
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