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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Avrenne invites Lukas Rhenardt, Lord Graves, back to House Fallon for adding more diplomatic work for him to do, as she continues her efforts to address the public relations question of worgen within the Alliance in her own vision. She shows her math, as always. The good news is that after he gets through the unsavory political homework with the cold Duchess, he can have a sweet playdate with the likable Vice Admiral. Everyone wins something. 6k~ words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
When Lukas is shown into the Little Parlor once more, there's little changed about anything in it from the last time he was there, saving that the sky outside the window is a brilliantly clear blue without a cloud in the sky to threaten an inopportune (or, some might say, very opportune) rain, the snap of cold with the lack of the cloud cover necessitating the fire in the fireplace to warm the room up to a comfortable temperature, and that there is a small bouquet in a pretty silver vase on the center table of an unusual choice of flowers — not the least because they are out of season, and would have likely meant locating someone who was growing them specifically — the Alteraci flower Edelweiss, with its fuzzy white stars, surrounding a very fresh bloom of a prominent, proud standing red Gilnean Rose.
The Lady Fallon is dressed in a conservative gown of complex silk embroidery over a bronze weave, with slim trumpet sleeves that peek through up to her elbows revealing tighter gold sheath sleeves. A simple gold necklace with a pendant of what looks to be two very small hands holding a sapphire cut into the shape of a heart, a pair of gold disc earrings, and a mignonette comb holding back a formal chignon adorn her in addition to her wedding ring, on clear display on her left hand. She's wearing just enough cosmetics to make her look well rested and her eyes a little brighter, but certainly not enough to transform her features in any way to greater beauty. She's taken her preferred seat on the small couch closer to the window, sitting and waiting, early to the room.
Lukas stops in the doorway as Vane announces him, and sets his heels together to bow curtly to Avrenne once more. He is not wearing the same stiff, old-fashioned black suit of previous visits; he must have found time or funds or both to visit a tailor in Stormwind, and is dressed today in a handsome suit of charcoal gray, a lighter gray waistcoat, and a deep red cravat: the whole effect is not an exact and therefore obvious match, but a clear nod to the Gilnean colors.
"Your Grace," he says, gravel-voiced and expressionless, his slate-blue gaze opaque. "Thank you for the invitation." He enters the room and settles on the other couch, precisely in its center, sparing a brief look at the flowers on the table.
Avrenne rises to a stand, using the arm of the couch to aid her, the weight of the pregnancy knocking her usual elegance a little off balance. In the month since he's last seen her, she has grown significantly larger, already to the point where it's difficult to believe that she's still got an entire trimester to go.
"Lord Graves," she greets him, returning his bow with a curtsey, and then sitting back down, settling her dress properly. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I will try not to keep you overlong, but I must trouble you once more for discussing what to do about the subject of worgen within the Alliance as an issue of reputation and integration, as I regret to inform you I cannot support, except in wishing her well with it, Lady Kenelly's proposal for an organization."
Oh, straight to business and the point, then. Well, we'll assume the state of the roads and the weather are something something, and that he's doing well in health, his family in good health, etc. The social visit, presumably, is something for Siamus to handle after this one.
He raises his eyebrows but nods once. "I see. Has Lady Kenelly given some offense?"
"She meant no insult, or offense," Avrenne says diplomatically, which is not entirely the same thing as answering that question directly. "But it was clear from the meeting that we were speaking of different organizations with entirely different goals. I could see very well what you spoke of before regarding her 'momentum,' and from what I heard of her proposal, Lady Kenelly had let her momentum carry her so far that in her eagerness to arrive at her eventual goals, she had decided that the primary one — to seek to address a concern of bias and prejudice worgen currently face in integrating into the Alliance and establishing a mutually respectful rapport therein — has already been addressed to her satisfaction, and she may continue on to becoming a worgen incorporated Gilnean Aid Society." No one use that acronym.
"Of which I had several concerns, in the specifics as much as the goals," she continues. "Please understand me that it's not that I would not be pleased that someone is creating an outreach support group focused on Gilneans, nor do I think it an unworthy endeavor as someone who was once a refugee into this Kingdom myself, only that my time to dedicate in support of an organization directly is limited, and my focus is on the more pressing issue of worgen reputation and treatment immediately. Has she spoken to you again recently of her decisions regarding the organization she has named 'HOWL,' outlining her ideas for leadership of it and its intent in its current form?"
Rhenardt shakes his head, his dark gaze steady, his expression still unreadable. "She has not," he rasps. "She has been occupied, I believe, with her work in Westfall. I do understand there is a task force now working in Duskwood to address the feral worgen problem, however. S.I. Thorne has been leading the operation."
"Mm." Avrenne settles her hands together in a light clasp, that careful composure of someone who is very aware of being observed by some unseen painter, taking her portrait, immortalizing her posture and facial expression for all time. "I assure you Lord Graves that I did not turn down the offer to take an involved hand in her proposed organization lightly, but that given her aims and the logic she expressed to me, I could not commit to it." And she's willing, as always, to show her math.
"The organization as she represented it to me was one of a suggested leadership board consisting of three people, two of whom would not be worgen, and the third being herself. Of the two non-worgen she proposed a person of Stormwind, which she took to be myself," she says in her crisp Lordaeron accent, "And a Gilnean, with her preference for it to go to Miss Lorna Crowley. I had several issues with this selection, the first of which was that I don't believe that it sends the right message for the leadership to have non-worgen dominant, for the social implication that worgen are not capable of representing themselves, particularly when we hope to establish worgen rights to leadership positions within outfits such as the military. More importantly, worgen will know what the issues are best, as they experience them, and could bring the attention directly to the board.
"The second concern was that when one is already championing a controversial issue, further compounding it with a controversial choice of leadership, such as the daughter of a rebel leader, over complicates a matter for garnering support. And the third concern was that Lady Kenelly, or as she suggested Lady Merelda, are not the leader of their pack, and therefore cannot speak for the whole of their pack, and decisions that would need to be made on such a leadership board of committee that would commit the pack to a choice, could not be made by either lady, necessitating a back and forth that slows these things down unnecessarily.
"While she admitted to being inexperienced in these matters, and was solicitous with her flattery in wanting both my opinion and apparently my leadership in this organization, when I gave my suggestions that, for those reasons, a board should consist of three worgen pack leaders to begin with — and I do believe five would be a better number, especially if two of the representatives were individual, independent 'packs' for the variety of voices — and that all non-worgens should be in advisory positions only, she very firmly disagreed with me, saying that I could have not possibly understand worgen issues regarding pack structure, social positions, or issues as well as she could being a worgen herself, which she saw no contradiction in stating while purporting a leadership board that seemed structured to do exactly that with non-worgen outnumbering worgen voices."
Rhenardt looks toward the fireplace, his expression stony. "I see," he says, and is silent for a space. "I apologize, Your Grace, for any disrespect Lady Kenelly might have shown you. I agree with you that an organization intended to represent the worgen to the greater Alliance and to address anti-worgen public bias is not served by non-worgen leadership. I also agree that there are disparate goals in play. It may be… for the best, all things considered, that Lady Kenelly is not responsible for an organization offering high-level political and public relations representation for worgen. She has done admirably in her community outreach efforts in Westfall and elsewhere, and this is likely her particular talent.
"As to pack structure and leadership, I agree with you again that any group offering Alliance representation and public relations for worgen should consist of pack leaders, just as a governing advisory body or council — your House of Nobles, for instance — consists of leaders. It is possible that to invite them to join a project such as Lady Kenelly's, organized and spearheaded by a young lady without a leadership position in her pack, would not meet with their favor. Alphas can be… highly conscious of such things.
"It seems perhaps for the best, then, that Lady Kenelly carry on with her efforts at outreach to the common community, and a separate effort or body be instituted for higher-level political and reputational efforts."
"I agree entirely, Lord Graves," Avrenne says, and that is relief obvious in her tone and her expression. "As I said, I wish her well with her efforts as they are, but found them lacking in being that which I offered my support and time. I expect she will do good, but I also feel she may inadvertently create a sense of tension that should be addressed as soon as possible. In my own outreaches of diplomacy to worgen, I have learned that there is a wide variety of origin, though the bulk of the population is Gilnean.
"From her proposal, Lady Kenelly has seemed to decide that the worgen issue is a Gilnean issue, and approaching it from a point of focus on your own pack. She had, as far as I could tell, no concrete or specific plan on how to approach other packs to incorporate them, and be certain they felt represented. She seemed to think they would simply show up once they saw the organization in place, or perhaps that someone who joins now would know someone, and so on. She could not see how her current set up, or name, strongly favors her own pack.
“My concern is in the potential for different packs to begin seeing each other as competition, for prestigious work, or even territory. My other concern is that some packs may decide on different approaches of diplomatic outreach, some of which would be the wrong tone, overly aggressive, or perhaps even worse, overly permissive, feeling they had no choice but to take those tactics, feeling isolated and desperate. We don't want worgen to either be seen as a threat or a second-class citizen, and cooperation, and most importantly support, for a consistent tone is necessary.
"It's my opinion that a deliberate and immediate outreach to alphas and individuals should try to accomplish both the goal of finding the larger, prominent and active packs, as well as represent the variety of worgen, from those that come from Northrend attempting to repatriate, to those who are of the Kingdom of Stormwind such as Elwynn or those of Duskwood who have been restored, or even those few kaldorei who have obtained sentience. The tone of an alliance of this nature is set at the start, and ensuring that those involved know that their voice is as strong and meaningful as the one that initiated the call can be crucial in compromise and cooperation.
"Additionally, I found Lady Kenelly's choice of acronym indicative of a person perhaps too young and inexperienced to not learn properly from the mistakes of the past of the sort of impression it gives one to name something meant for all after only a part, with 'HOWL' of Gravehowl, to speak nothing of the unserious tone of it. After all, it is one thing to be presented with an offer to join 'The Alliance,' and feel it representing a place of equal unification and respect for all at the table, and quite another to expect someone to hear 'The Alliance of Lordaeron,' and not think of it as not truly representing all human kingdoms and cultures contained within, despite whatever the originator might claim."
Rhenardt rubs his brow. "I agree," he says grimly. "I did tell her my own view of the acronym. I didn't expressly forbid it, but I didn't expect I would have to. It may be that because she isn't one of my originals, it didn't strike her as —" He is silent again and then shakes his head. "A headstrong young lady, set on her own path. I will remember it in future."
He makes a gesture of brisk dismissal. "So, a different organization to a separate end, then."
There's a brief interruption as Catrin enters with a simple, sparse tea service of just tea, in the gladiolus teapot with blue pansy teacups. It being so near luncheon time, there's no food, unless one counts lemon slices, but that's kinda pushing it.
"Thank you, Catrin," Avrenne says, as she takes up the pouring of the tea to offer the first cup to Lukas, and then one for herself, sitting back with it. "I agree with you, Lord Graves, on the assessment. I expect that the effort involved in trying to attempt to turn Lady Kenelly from her chosen path would be wasted effort and time when it would be simpler and more efficient to construct another, despite the effort involved both in social and physical demands. Both organizations ultimately want the same things, and any construction of another organization can then easily cooperate or feed into 'HOWL,' for action. There's no need to see them as competing with another, as they have different immediate aims, but shared general purpose.
"Now, to the practical. Excluding those of your own pack who I have either met or heard of, I am aware of only a few other packs or individuals by name. I have yet to meet her personally, but I'm aware of a pack leader named Mrs. Rosalie Underthorn of the Moonbloom pack, a Miss Natalyah Kensington-Whit of no pack currently who was formerly of a minor noble Elwynn House who was disowned by it, a Mr. Euylsses Reeve also of no pack who was of the Gilnean Royal Navy, and, of course, Lord Zath Tyrrell, who has been demoted from his position as Captain of a 7th Legion E.U. to Sergeant following disciplinary actions after his becoming a worgen." There's a certain tone at the last, a single red thread of anger weaving through her composed voice, a tension of her fingers on her teacup. "It's my intention to continue to expand that range of people, but I expect a great deal will require genuine legwork, as some may have not yet established a stable address, or refugee paperwork completed and easily filed and found."
Rhenardt nods, still stone-faced. "I am familiar with three of those four. I don't know Miss… Kensington-Whit? I am also aware of a fifth, a young woman called 'Ada,' whom I believe is living wild in Elwynn Forest. She is packless."
"Do you know of her origin at all, this 'Ada?'" Avrenne asks, sipping at her tea.
"I don't. She came to a meeting, lurked in the shadows until she was called out, spoke little of herself." Rhenardt pauses to weigh something. "In addition, though I have no objection, I should advise you for… political relations reasons that the Moonbloom pack are… a house of professional ladies."
Avrenne's brows raise first before there's the click of understanding. "Oh. Well, that may have some controversy attached to it in some circles, but I would also expect that she has a unique and valuable perspective on public relations that would be important to incorporate into any organization seeking to better those… relations," she says, diplomatic as always. It's unclear whether or not she has opinions herself on ladies who do ladying professionally, although he probably knows how she generally feels about worgen, uh, relations given her previous conversations involving her husband.
"I should clarify as well, Lord Graves, that while I am more than willing to provide insight into the current social sphere of the Alliance, and what I think would be the best path to achieve those aims, I by no means intend to dictate the details of this organization, or hold my cooperation as contingent on my advice being followed. My objections to Lady Kenelly's proposal were in the contradictions of her logic, and different aims. I am not, as I have said, a puppetmaster, and I truly do not believe that a non-worgen should be in charge.
"My proposal would be that to widen the pool as much as possible for location leaders and a variety of the worgen voices, a minimum of two meetings should be advertised, one on each continent, one in Stormwind City and the other in Darnassus, through a variety of means of flyers, newspapers, and word of mouth, in order to gather worgen together. Pack leaders and individual worgen could then be approached for discussion on how to arrange a leadership among yourselves of those who want to put their time and energy into diplomatic public relations.
"My concern is that with things being where they are, and the keen awareness that it was still legal, and I beg your pardon for indelicate reminder, to kill and skin any worgen but a mere four months ago, the very reason this sort of public relations is necessary, that some may look at such a call coming forth, especially from a non-worgen, as a ruse to gather up worgen and imprison or otherwise harm them. This is one of the many reasons why I felt it would be better if such an organization was championed by a worgen from the start."
Rhenardt gazes into the fire again stonily. "Aye," he says at last. "Though for that same reason — and reasons of ongoing public bias — I don't see that advertising public meetings to solicit general input is the approach, either. Part of the problem of Lady Kenelly's group is that it fails to consider worgen hierarchy. Drawing in all and sundry by open invitation to ask their thoughts on organizing principles is… much the same. And, again, may look suspect to the warier among us.
"What I would prefer is to look into the matter, collect what pack leader and independent names we can, and invite them specifically to a structured group. From there we allow word of mouth to spread among the packs that the group exists, so they see for themselves that it's legitimate, and we let our policies for inclusion be publicly available. Akin to Captain Tyrrell's WEB. They do not seek out warlocks; they established themselves and their principles, made it known that they would be a sort of legitimizing body, and invited warlocks to come to them. If Tyrrell and his people had set out to hunt for warlocks — or, in the wake of a highly-public assassination by warlock, sent out a public announcement inviting warlocks to gather voluntarily… I do not think warlocks themselves would have responded to either without profound suspicion. I imagine that for my people it may be the same."
That was a very long speech from a very terse man. Rhenardt clears his throat.
Avrenne sips at her tea as he speaks. "That would have been my preference as well, from the start, and I admit that I didn't pursue Lady Kenelly or push harder because I assumed that was what she was about herself, reaching out to others by necessity for the initial building blocks, and that she would arrive to any consultants such as myself in due course. With so much of the initial time lost, and with the likelihood of worgen once easily grouped together in at least one place in Darnassus, now spread out far more widely as they seek places, the difficulty of assembling directly may be far greater. All public advertisement would be only attempting to make up for this lost time.
"However, as this would chiefly be something that I must rely upon you for, Lord Graves, I will defer to your judgment on the matter, and what you believe to be the best course knowing what you do of worgen nature and of what you have seen of the wariness of those unwilling to come directly forward except by more direct approach by another worgen. I can give you the known address of Miss Kensington-Whit. If there is anything I can do to be of further assistance with the matter, you know that you need but ask, and I will do whatever I may.
"For my own part, I will continue as I have been in attempting to both address public concerns in personal ways, and putting my money where my mouth is. We have hired on Lady Merelda Veyne to see to the very public construction of our new townhouse in Stormwind City. It will be something that is taken note of, and I hope allow her to find even greater opportunities. It's my intent that when we arrive at the time of construction, that we will be able to see at least one worgen among the contractors, of those who have been looking for such work."
Rhenardt nods once. "Lady Merelda is talented. She assisted with the renovations at my home. I understand as well that your husband may intend to make Reeve an officer in his fleet. I'm sure we're all grateful to both of you for the opportunities."
"They're well earned, and not offered out of obligation. If it does serve a useful purpose for demonstrating in action what we are purporting to stand for in words, so too are we reaping the benefit of having their talent and skill," Avrenne says, ever the diplomat. She sips at her tea, and sets her teacup down a little, not quite resting it on the belly-shelf, convenient though it obviously is.
"I do realize that I am putting a great deal of work on your already rather full docket, Lord Graves. My intent with supporting Lady Kenelly was finding a person young enough to have the energy and zest for the laborious task of physically going around to meet others and establish connections, but still willing to hand the reins over properly to those suited for the task of her elders. I do apologize for now setting that work at your feet, unlooked for as more work between what you must already be juggling between the military, Cobalt Company, and your pack, as well as establishing yourself personally, but I felt that of all those that I have met, you are the best suited for taking up the task now already late to start, with the drive and stamina necessary to see it through."
"I have never shied from work," he says. "And I prefer where possible to handle what matters I can directly."
"Naturally," Avrenne agrees. "I do hope that you will take some time to find recreation and enjoyment for yourself as well, Lord Graves. I realize the draw of industry is its own reward for those who like it, but I would hope that my misstep in relying on Lady Kenelly will not be a cost that falls mostly on your shoulders, broad as they are." Her eyes do flick from his face to those actual shoulders and back.
Rhenardt blinks. Has he been blinking all along? Do his eyes even do that? His resting expression is so Granite that one might be forgiven for assuming him an unblinking stone. So when he blinks now, it is obvious: he blinked.
"Ah," he says. "It is hardly your misstep, Your Grace. I directed Lady Kenelly to you. I believe she means well, but I regret if we wasted your time. I am aware it is valuable."
"Oh, I take full responsibility, Lord Graves. I caught her at Priscilla and Lord Bertrand's wedding, well after you had already left," she says and she sounds very certain of that fact, and it might strike him to wonder how she knows, "and when she mentioned that she noticed the difficulty worgen were facing of bias, I encouraged her in the direction of pursuing it as a organization, and introduced her immediately to Lord Tyrrell who could give her the advice of his own experiences of the WEB. She seemed a reasonable choice, especially as I saw her taking initiative with working with Cobalt Company in Westfall as indication of someone willing to step out into a new trail.
"Of course, viewed in another perspective given other choices and actions, however, one might consider a pattern of behavior of someone who dislikes taking the first steps as they must be, tedious as they are, and simply leaps to the second part that she wants to be in, trusting in others to go back and secure the right of her preference by going himself and taking up the burden to negotiate, even at cost to himself under harsh terms." You know, like a pack leader who had to go to Cobalt Company and make an entire agreement of risk to make Kenelly's employment actually happen.
Rhenardt studies Avrenne impassively. "She is young," he says at last. "And enthusiastic. Her enthusiasms may be misplaced and her discipline wanting, but she is an intelligent young woman and I believe she will learn." He nods to Avrenne courteously. "The example of people such as yourself, whether one she appreciates yet or not, will prove beneficial with time."
His tone has a little bit of an or else flavor to it. Or maybe that's just always his tone.
"Just because a person does not prove the right choice for a vanguard doesn't mean she cannot be a very effective force for the cavalry, so to speak. Lady Kenelly can play to her strengths where she prefers, and her work is not to be discounted," she says, walking that careful neutral line of giving her opinion without necessarily stating what that opinion exactly is. "When you have more information on the worgen who should be directed to for social reasons, please do let me know.
“My hope is that when a council is formed, and you have spoken amongst yourself of what you have noted is most necessary to address first, that you have a direct line to see to these concerns immediately whether they be martial, as with Lord Bertrand, legal, as with Lord Demasco, or social, as with myself. If you find yourself in an unknown, I may be depended upon to know who might be the best avenue for a complicated matter. If there are any specific concerns that arise immediately, from anyone, controversial or not — to speak plainly as with Mrs. Underthorn — I would be glad to be of assistance. My time may be limited and valuable, but this is a concern that I am willing to spend significantly on."
Avrenne takes another sip of tea, finishing off the cup, as she leans to set it down, and there's an odd little flutter of her fingers on it before she releases it entirely, and returns her hands to her dress, arranging the skirts of it as if she intends to stand soon. "And hopefully being the current liaison of this worgen organization to myself will prove at least less harsh than other sacrifices of your own time that you have had to make, Lord Graves," she says. "Especially now with the Vice Admiral home for at least some of the foreseeable future." Don't worry, Lukas, if you do all your political homework with the Duchess first, you can have a fun times playdate with the Vice Admiral.
Lukas regards her opaquely. "It can hardly be called sacrifice, Your Grace. I am, of course, grateful for the time you can spare, and I appreciate your counsel." A pause. "You must be pleased to have the Vice Admiral at home once more," he observes with the same chill indifference he seems to observe everything. "You had some concern, I recall."
"Yes, to both. His letter arrived the next day. As expected, the ship came through well, and there were no losses to the crew, only some injuries," she says, and there's a small involuntary smile that manages to squeeze past the composure, as her eyes flick up to a place on the wall, where Siamus' office, and presumably likely Siamus, is. "And as I recall, you expressed an interest in calling on him once more when he was home, and I did say I would try not to keep you overlong. If there is nothing else you can think of at present that I might do for you, Lord Graves, I would release you from this business into the leisure of a social call."
Lukas seems to consider this for a moment. Does he have more business? He does not. He sets his teacup down on the table. "I have nothing further, thank you."
Avrenne begins her now slightly awkward rise of a heavily pregnant woman whose balance is growing increasingly problematic for the heave-ho out of a seat.
Lukas this time is recalled to his manners more swiftly than on previous occasions, possibly by the enhanced drama of the Duchess' efforts. He rises to his own feet with alacrity to offer his hand.
Avrenne doesn't quite startle, but she does have a moment of a lack of her usual elegance as she suddenly switches tactics halfway through in an immediate acceptance of the courtesy, reaching for his offered hand with the wrong hand — her left rather than her right, which remains on the couch arm where it started out and she has not altered her course of its intent — and the result of this angle means her forward momentum takes her more directly diagonally into him than straight ahead, and there is a brief tangle of placement where their joined hands bump into her, well, bump.
As soon as she is clearly steady on her feet, Lukas releases her hand as though it has burned him, and steps back. "I beg your pardon," he says stiffly.
"I beg your pardon," Avrenne says at the same time, a touch of color to her cheeks rising up in a genuine blush. Right. She lifts her chin, and sets both her hands carefully in front of her, slowly as if nothing odd has occurred. She clears her throat. Silence will only make this worse, so she speaks. "I meant to thank you, Lord Graves, for your courtesy and consideration before, when you were here, and took the time to provide a moment of distraction and solace to a worried lady. I did appreciate it, even more so after the fact, as well as during. I found myself more settled after you had left having been in conversation for so long while you were here, rather than left to my own thoughts."
"Ah," says Lukas.
He should probably say something else.
"I am glad to have been of some service, Your Grace, if only as a distraction," he says, and makes that curt Alteraci bow.
Avrenne dips into that same automatic return curtsey, steady on her feet once more. "Siamus should be in his office," she tells him. "He is expecting you. I can show you the way, as I will be going the same direction myself." She lifts her hand for an escort, pausing because this usually takes him a moment.
It takes him a moment.
Oh, right. He offers his arm. "Thank you," he says.
Avrenne takes his arm, sweeping them out of the room, as she makes her way to Siamus' office with that stately, regal like walk of hers, as if she's taking Lukas to an audience with the king, while being critically judged by someone standing just off to the side, ready to take points off an invisible score for lifting the hem of her dress even a half inch too high or too low, for not keeping her head perfectly level as she goes up the stairs.
"I hope that your family has been in good health," she says as they walk. Oh, now there is time for small talk in the transition from business to leisure it seems.
"Yes," says Lukas.
It is very small talk.
"And yourself? Have you been in good health?" she asks. Smooth.
"I have," he says. Again there is a slight manners delay before he asks, "And yours? Your family, that is. And also yours. Health."
A muscle tics at the corner of his jaw.
It might strike him how gingerly she's holding onto his arm, as if she's worried that if she presumes too much real estate of touch that he might leap across the room from her. But rather than tension in her expression, there's something that's rather a lot more reminiscent of the girl she was than the cold Duchess she's become, a twitching of her mouth, and a movement around her eyes like she's fighting off a smile, and it shows up in her voice anyway even in the monosyllabic, "Yes." She rolls her lips together briefly as if she's losing the fight against that smile, and now resorting to last ditch tactics.
One might even suspect her of teasing him, and a little bit herself.
He knits his brow sternly, a stony near-scowl, and asks nothing more. Perhaps he is trying to parse her answer. Perhaps he knows he is being teased.
It's not long before they arrive at the door to Siamus' office, where Avrenne releases him from his torment of socializing with the Duchess. "Do enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Lord Graves," she says, with that curtsey once more.
"Your Grace," he says, and turns to her to make that curt bow — and then, again, he catches her hand before she can withdraw it fully, and lifts it to his lips.
He does not kiss her, precisely; just holds her hand there for a moment before he releases her and straightens abruptly. He does not meet her gaze. "Your Grace," he says again, and turns firmly away to knock at Siamus' door.
There is a moment's delay before — "Aye?" calls a familiar voice from within, sounding distracted. "Come in?"
Avrenne watches him kiss her hand with a look of genuine surprise again, her eyes wider and younger seeming, her mouth parting in time with the contact of his lips on her skin, as if she has no idea how they have arrived to this moment, and is rapidly trying to get back up to speed and getting stuck somewhere briefly.
She keeps her hand up in the air for again a too long moment, wrist bent and fingers dangling daintily in the elegant turn of a lady, before she once again slowly lowers her hand. She seems as if she might have said something, but with him turned, she doesn't. She turns to go, hesitates, and looks over at the corner where the hallway begins, to a very specific point, just across the way from another door, to another portrait of herself hanging up, one more recent, and intakes an audible breath as if to speak.
And then, seeming to reconsider saying anything to point this particular painting out, instead says nothing still, and continues on her course as she originally intended to go to her room that serves as her usual office.
Flower Meanings
- Edelweiss: Daring. Courage. Noble purity. Alterac.