The Sunny Side of the Street

[Ivone]

September 2, 122PW
Continued from Starting Over

The next day, as she sat to drink her tea and check the critic’s comments about the new play, another small write up gave her pause.

The Daily Tattler

The Salon – A New Club for Marn’s Youth

The Salon, recently opened its doors to much acclaim, boasting a dance floor and drinks. Unlike other Society clubs, the Salon allows entrance to anyone willing to pay an entrance fee. The layout is designed for dancing and being seen, with a new lighting technique many will find useful for covert trysts.

In a surprising turn of events, eligible bachelor Vincentius Morrington was seen escorting Marn’s twice-widowed Ivone Malatrast-Vyaduka to the Salon, whose recent Tian Xian inspired scent is taking Marn by storm. The pair were accompanied by his sister, Cisme Morrington, and a Mr. Cordyon Apthalos.

One assumes the two are familiar with each other due to Cisme’s recent debut at the theater Ms. M-V also owns and runs. Bachelor Vincentius gained several admirers with his dancing skills. More than one young lady rhapsodized over his charm and dancing skills.

V.M. and I.M-V. were quite breath-taking during a certain couple’s dance, moving effortlessly to the music. They danced so well-together, one wonders if they will be seen more often together?

Ivone sighed. There would be repercussions from this.

Placing her cup on the corner of her desk, Ivone pulled out a scented piece of parchment paper and penned a note.

Dear Butterfly,

Your aerial antics did not go unnoticed last night! Didn't I warn you to stay away from my web? And now, look, your pristine name is tangled with mine in sticky strands. Whatever shall we do?

Should we run away to the sands of Semerkhet?

Or should we give them more reason to talk and meet for tea? I could apologize politely for making everyone think the Most Eligible Bachelor of the Civil Government might no longer be eligible.

With warm regards,

Bloom

After her morning ablutions, Ivone sent the note along to Tius via one of her footmen. The article was neatly clipped and included for his amusement.

[Vicentius]

The next day dawned, as days were wont to do, to find Tius in no worse spirits for his evening of adventure. Of course, Shen had been extremely disappointed with him for not bringing him out for the night, and sat sullenly by the fire glaring at him over his mustaches until he went to bed. Sometimes he wondered whether he spoiled that dog, but then there were few pleasures in life that weren't frowned upon, and Shen was a good hunting dog, so he let it go. So, that morning, when he'd dressed, he'd opted to break his fast later and take Shen for a brisk walk. It was a rare day that he had to himself and there were worse ways to spend it than with a dog.

For a change, the weather seemed to be looking up; the sky was clear, and while the sun had yet to make a proper appearance, there was only enough of a chill to give one an appetite. He took to the streets with zeal, shaking the cobwebs of sleep from his mind and exchanging pleasantries with people as he passed. It never hurt to get one's name out there, after all, and while he wouldn't have called any of those people friends, they were usually good for gossip. Of course on this particular morning, certain circles were doing rather more tittering and pointing in his direction. He ignored it, noting the faces, but it still stuck with him. It wasn't until he got back to the boarding house that the reason became clear.

The letter waiting for him with his mail and the morning paper was unadorned, but lightly scented with a familiar aroma. Sitting down by a side table, he turned the letter over in his hands for a moment, pondering implications, before breaking the seal and skimming through the contents with a slowly growing smile. Miss Malatrast continued to surprise, he thought, glancing over the article and noting one or two points that, he felt, the author had gotten wrong. Secret Trysts? Dear Changers, one would think it had been impossible before, to look at the language. Still, the papers thrived on scandal, so he could forgive them that. He raised his eyebrows at the suggestion at the bottom of the letter, rereading it before staring pensively at Shen.

"Feel like going for another walk?"

[Ivone]

Ivone wore another dark blue dress, though this one was more functional than the one from the previous night. The fabric had a slight sheen to it, which she liked immensely. Long-sleeves kept her arms warm. Light-weight gloves kept her hands warm. A hat, with a sheer mesh veil, sat at a jaunty little angle. Beneath, she wore leggings and boots, because the skirt actually split, allowing her more range of movement than a regular one would.

One thing her first husband had instilled in her was being physically active. It had been on one of their walks, she'd lost him and her baby, but that didn't stop her from walking. When she emerged from the house, clouds blocked the sun, but it looked like they would clear by the afternoon. Early September in Marn wasn't unpleasant. Marn was generally temperate, but the winters could get bitterly cold. Now, there was just enough of winter's chill in the air to make Ivone feel energized. The cool air and the walk pinkened her cheeks.

Ivone's steps took her towards the Memorial Gardens. The Dragon and Guard statue was still missing chunks and a safer patch of woods (compared to Virdara), if you could call them woods. They were more like wooded walking trails. Finishing her walk, Ivone turned her steps toward home.

Today, perhaps, she would try new scent combinations.

[Vicentius]

Despite some initial grumbling, Shen was more than happy to be back out and about in the open air, pulling at the lead in his efforts to get to more of the paved streets or investigate strange smells. He would have preferred to leave Shen loose to roam, having trained him well, but the Guard tended to be pedantic about that sort of thing, and he didn't need the hassle. It occurred to him, as he adjusted his grip, that he wasn't sure quite where Ivone lived. Oh, he was certain that it was somewhere in the better off end of the district, but beyond that he was at sea. Closing his eyes, he let the scent of the memorial gardens invigorate him, glad that he had no appointments, and turned to go, when a flash of blue caught his eye near the memorial.

Stopping, he watched her step fully out of the trees onto the cobbles of the plaza and took a moment to assess her appearance. Her gown was well made, but made for being abroad rather than pure fashion, which he approved of, and well cut, with a slight sheen that spoke as much of its expense as the rich colour of the fabric. Bustles were coming back into fashion for some reason, but the only concession Ivone made was a bumroll and ribbon, drawing the requisite attention without the need to wear her weight in corsetry and spring loaded underwear. The outfit was completed by a smart little hat and veil, which gave her the illusion of anonymity. He nearly applauded, and he felt Shen stop pulling as he settled and looked back at him, impatiently. Tius smiled, debating a course of action as he moved along his original trajectory, with Shen leading the way.

Why he did it, he couldn't exactly say. If he'd waited long enough she doubtless would have spotted him, and failing that he could have always gone to her. Of course, that would have drawn more attention and might have put her off. Similarly, he was certain that she had not been coming to see him, so he wasn't risking much. No, whatever their dalliance was becoming, friendship or otherwise, he was certain that it would only occur at her pace. So he adjusted his stride to keep him just ahead of her, certain that she would notice, and carried on.

[Ivone]

Ivone did not notice Tius at first. She walked with her hands tucked in the pockets of her skirt, head down as she thought about different scent combinations. With the crispness in the air, she was thinking about something clean and crisp – perhaps something with mint?

Ivone turned toward the Plaza, deciding Markham’s would be her next stop. Something warm to drink and perhaps the crossword puzzle would let her mind work.

Now that her attention was more on her surroundings, her gaze drifted over the people and paused. Ahead of her, she saw a head of close-cropped, darkish blonde hair. She watched as people moved around the body attached to the hair and around the dog, who accompanied the body.

The dog, she knew. Shen, if she recalled from the article on hunting in Marn that came out last spring. The dog was curious and obviously restraining its energy. Shen pulled ahead on the lead, came back, zigged left, and zagged right, stopping to sniff this surface or that. The dog was well-trained, though. With a simple motion, the dog was back by Tius’ side. And, it didn’t bother others and even ignored more yappy dogs. At one point the dog paused and stared at a draining grate intently. Ivone couldn’t help but look, knowing she’d see nothing. It was probably a rat.

The body she knew, too. As with every time she’d seen him, Tius was wearing a utilitarian, but well-cut outfit. The design was simple and understated, but obviously tailored considering the way it fit. The posture was straight, the build slim. The shoulders were broad. Ivone considered the view in front of her for more than a moment. The cut of the coat emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and the slimness of his waist. Ivone glanced away, realizing her appraisal was taking a little longer than it should. The body and dog were moving at leisurely pace. A few steps closer and she was sure it was him. If she'd quickened her steps and reached out, she could have grabbed the back of his coat and gained his attention. She didn't. Instead, she stared at the spot between his shoulder blades.

Nothing good would come from this acquaintance. Ivone knew this would be the way of things, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to learn more. He was obviously intelligent, learned, skilled, and... he made her laugh. Though they moved in the same circles, until last night there’d never been a reason. Certainly, she'd seen him, noted his presence. But even then, there probably was little than five words exchanged. She and Tius’ sister, Krycla, had had more interactions due to Krycla’s soprano skills and Krycla’s husband, Zeger’s, job as a Clerk in the Minstry of Culture. The reason was simple.

The Morringtons were thorough when it came to protecting one of their own. Her own complicity in Madiana’s party, if it came out, would surely turn the curiosity in his gaze to something much different. Ivone tucked her chin, down, brows furrowing and her hands balling into fists in her pockets. How could she have been so cavalier? What had she been trying to prove?

Foolish, foolish, foolish! She could find reasons why. She could blame Aurelio for manipulating her, but she had walked into the situation willingly. Her anger and her grief had driven her there, but where was she now? Was she in a better place? Hadn’t she been headed in the direction of her scents and the Theater with her husband, Tian Malatrast? So, the only different was how she had compromised herself. For what? What did that say about her? Desperate, probably.

Three months before, before Khayyam had died right there in front of her, she had wanted nothing more than to be important to Aurelio, had continued because that is what they had agreed on. Khayyam’s death in front of her had reminded her of another loss. It had triggered memories and physical pains she thought she’d forgotten. His death had made her reevaluate everything. She'd volunteered at the hospital. Ivone remembered seeing Tius there, as well.

Paragon had seemed to slink off into the darkness, silent and waiting. There'd been no further meetings with Shanuri, Hanuel, Andras, and Aurelio. For that, Ivone was thankful. What would happen the day they tagged her to make poisons again? The day after Khayyam's death, she'd destroyed every plant, everything related to poisons. There was evidence, though, in Aurelio's notes, and she'd never been privy to where he'd kept those.

No way out, she thought, a thought that repeated in her mind often. Everything she had was built on the fragile premise that had been the relationship with Aurelio, a relationship she was trying to sever. He didn't need her, but he thought he owned her and Ivone knew that would never change. She was his pawn, his apprentice, and she'd given herself willingly. Fool... another oft repeated thought. So far, he'd given her her space, probably thinking by withholding himself from her he was punishing her. He'd seen the write-up. What had she been thinking, sending off a note asking for tea? Pathetic, lonely fool...

At the end of the walk, Tius had paused, as had many others, waiting for the traffic on the side street to thin. The area had to allow delivery carts, simply because of the shops that catered to the crowds there. In her current frame of mind and the thoughts that consumed her, Ivone failed to pause. Without looking, she walked right into his back.

Color suffused her cheeks, but she managed to lift her chin.

"Please forgive me, I - I wasn't paying attention at all." She offered Tius an embarrassed smile. She had intended to do this more gracefully. "It's good to see you again. Enjoying the weather?" Several people noted the collision. A few ladies hid their judging smiles behind their hands, until they realized just who the pair were.

Teodinus! Could this get more complicated. Fool!

[Vicentius]

There were few tasks more delicate, Tius reflected, than feigning obliviousness to the presence of another. People of all stripes tended to have better instincts than they were credited with, and could spot pretense from quite a way off, even if they couldn't name it. Maintaining such a fiction against those raised to spot it, therefore, was a wholly different animal. Too much effort and you gave the game away, too little and you might miss something; it was a very different but quite stimulating dance from the norm, and it changed from person to person. He was grateful that his back was to Ivone, allowing him to focus solely on Shen and his pace. He was also grateful for his lack of an agenda, or at least his lack of awareness of such. Had he one, and had she seen his face, he doubted that he could have fooled her.

Of course, the flip side of that was that he had no way of knowing whether she had noticed him or what she was thinking. He was confident that she would, given her sharp eye, but her reaction was harder to gauge than most. What surprised him, more than that he wanted to know, given his inbuilt curiosity about almost everything, people especially, was how much he wanted to know. Most people were easy; find the handle, apply pressure, watch them jump, and finding that out had cost him quite a bit of his Faith in people, even as he enjoyed the game. But Ivone was one of the most closed off people that he had ever met and a testament to Aurelio Merynir's coaching skills, as he didn't doubt that the man had a hand in it somewhere. Her walls were thick and would rise at the drop of a hat, she missed nothing, remembered everything, she played the game well for an amateur, and she approached everything with the precision of an alchemist adding one more part to a mixture, but underneath that she was holding onto something for dear life, and it gnawed at her. He was certain of it. She'd seemed lost at the strangest times the previous night, he recalled, and that spoke volumes that he could not yet read.

He whistled sharply, getting Shen's attention before a cart trundled over him, and shortened his grip on the lead. Around him, the great and the perfumed of the city carried on about their business, oblivious to the internal monologue but very much aware of him and everyone else. He could feel the glances, appraising and weighing, and felt he could hear the article in the occasional whispers, but they kept their distance and for that he gave thanks. He'd always been something of a curiosity because of his name and he'd learned to live with that and the expectations and limits that came with it, but the nobility were fickle and easily bored, so the attention soon tapered off in favour of some new oddity. He'd experienced it before when he'd first returned to Marn and this time would be no different, but it was still irritating in the extreme and tended to interfere with his work. People always wanted something, and the kind of people who blew in to befriend one over some interesting tidbit always ended up finding one wanting. Had they noticed Ivone too? Probably, but something told him that she was accustomed to it; her marriages had ended tragically and abruptly, and her association with Aurelio had turned some heads. People loved a show.

Stopping at the intersection to let the carts pass, he entertained a small smile at the thought of how much the carters' presence irritated his contemporaries. Food and luxuries shouldn't have had to be brought in, they seemed to think; they should simply have happened on demand, the better to pretend that the lower classes and those dirty foreigners were a distant thing. Considerable time, energy and engineering had gone into making this a haven for the financially sound, after all, and not a day went by without a call for a new restriction or some petty complaint crossing his desk. Never underestimate the vindictiveness of people for whom taking offense was an art, and never underestimate the mulishness of ordinary folk with a job in mind; those had been the key lessons of his youth. Well, aside from the immediate and prolonged benefits of acquiescence to family, the importance of duty and the ability to think unflinchingly conservative in all things of course, but those went without saying.

He almost didn't hear her step, so focused was he, but he was quite surprised when she walked into him.

"No harm done," he said, turning with a chuckle, eyes widening. "Miss Malatrast, how are you this morning? Not too fatigued from your exertions, I hope?"

Her dress was even more impressive up close, the cut complimenting her figure just so, while the colour and lines drew the eye in all the right directions. Briefly, he sensed that he had intruded on something here, and there were flashing of something hunted in Ivone's eyes when he looked. He could not dwell on it though, as Shen barked good naturedly, watching the stranger.

"I am indeed. My apologies for not replying to your letter sooner," he continued, "I believe I missed your courier. Shen, say hello to Miss Malatrast."

Shen barked again, tail wagging, but he remained seated.

[Ivone]

Tius looked at her. Without thinking, her posture adjusted and improved: shoulders back, back straight. Ivone thought it might be an approving sort of look. Ivone shooed the thought away. Thinking things like that made things complicated. He noticed her, too, though his assessment was quick. A repeat of last night’s curiosity lit in his gaze. Tius Morrington was practiced in noticing. Ivone felt suddenly bared before him. Instead of looking away demurely, she looked up at him. Notice away, by all means… even if it was only temporary.

Ivone looked back, noticing him, too. His eyes were much bluer in the daylight. His mouth seemed to have a hint of a smile lingering on it, as if one were seconds away from appearing. Ivone was right, of course. As soon as he realized his accoster was her, Tius smiled politely. Around them people moved, sounds and scents happened, but those were all back-ground noise and easily filtered out.

Small talk intervened.

“I am well, thank you. Oh no, I enjoyed myself too much to be fatigued.” A certain warmth lit in her gaze as she looked up at him, recalling how the dancing made her feel. The veil gave a bare modicum of privacy. Her face, at least, must be seen straight on to fully gain the depth of her expression. The warmth continued as Tius introduced Shen. Ivone slipped off her gloves.

“May I?” Ivone indicated with a graceful gesture toward Shen – a request for approval to pet the dog. “I recall reading an article about Shen in the paper. He is a wire-haired Vizla, correct?” When Tius indicated “yes” with a brief nod, Ivone held out the back of her hand to Shen to sniff before she scratched the top of his head and rubbed the tips of his ears.

“Aren’t you a good dog?” Shen seemed to approve of the scratching and the attention. Giving Shen one more good scratching, Ivone slipped the gloves back on.

“A well-trained dog is a joy to behold. My former sister-in-law, Melika, has a trio of dogs who are poorly trained. She insists on taking them everywhere and when she comes to make sure I am not smirching the Malatrast name, invariably, they leave messes in my house.”

Ivone ignored the words she picked up from a few of the ladies, commenting about their meeting in public. She was sure some would assume the meeting contrived to look unplanned. Really, they gave her too much credit. Her acting skills only went so far. Ivone looked at her hands as she slipped on the gloves, effectively cutting everyone off from her for a moment of personal privacy, even Tius. She had to be careful here. She couldn't be too raw or exposed.

Ivone gave a slight smile and shook her head as she looked up at Tius once more.

“I wasn’t expecting a reply so quickly. I know you have duties to attend to. But, since we are here… I was heading to Markham’s. Are you familiar with it?”

[Vicentius]

There they were again, he thought, his smile widening slightly at her flustered expression. Her walls dropped like a portcullis and the woman beyond shone through like a sunrise, and for a moment, he was speechless; it was that well done. It would not last, he knew, she was far too careful to leave herself vulnerable for long, but that she had done it at all was a point in his favour. Was it his imagination too, or was there a certain heat smouldering in those eyes? The veil made it hard to say, but he was leaning towards yes, and he let his eyebrows raise a fraction, his smile spreading to his eyes before he glanced down, absently biting his lip. Shen looked up at them patiently, and he chuckled, nodding to him.

"Of course," he said, nodding, "Shen, this is Ivone. She's a friend."

Shen, of course, barked happily, sniffing at her proffered hand and trying his best to get back to it before it moved to scratch his head. Tail wagging madly, he nuzzled into Ivone's touch, bringing another smile to Tius' face. Shen did so like company, after all, and attention was something that never seemed to tire him. He was beloved by Tius' niece and nephews and he loved them in return; almost irrepressably so whenever they went to visit. Tius chuckled at her comments.

"It's the excitement of such enlightened company, no doubt," he said, bringing his eyes back to hers, "but you cannot blame them for her lack of discipline. My brother wants to get dogs for his boys and doesn't quite understand why a house dog would be a better choice. They're too young for anything larger."

It was true; one chose the animal to suit the role, and small children were ill suited for large dogs, especially those two ruffians. The staff were already terrorized with them, after all, and they didn't need an excitable dog to boot. Well, hopefully they'd see reason in the end. Ivone looked down, pulling on her gloves and gently dropping the portcullis once again as she stood. A sharp whistle brought Shen to heel, and he straightened, watching the traffic.

"Nonsense, miss Malatrast," he said, "I may be busy but I can always make time for a friend."

[Ivone]

Ivone's smile curved her lips as she turned toward the street, watching the traffic. Soon, there would be an opening they could take advantage of.

"Of course not. The training is in the hands of the owner." The thin, sharp whistle drew her attention back to his lips. Ivone looked up, face tilted to the side, and cast a glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"Shen's discipline is an excellent reflection of your own. You are to be commended. Ah, it's our turn."

Ivone stepped from the sidewalk into the street. Her skirts were lifted slightly, showing the leggings and boots beneath as she neatly stepped over a pile of dung. One had to watch one's steps, but she couldn't complain too much about that. The dung was collected by street cleaners and resold as fertilizer for gardens. The only downside was stepping in muck when wearing slim dance slippers. Once across the street, the skirt was dropped back into place. Her hands slid over the skirt to ensure it was in place out of habit.

They would pass the boutique shop, Ivi's, that sold her creations as they made their way to Markham's. In the window, a display showed a variety of things she'd made: candles, soaps, perfumes and other scented toiletries. The shop also carried accessories, such as ribbons, hair combs and clips, and gloves. A few ladies browsed, accompanied by a salesclerk.

"I also need to stop in here, if you don't mind?" Ivone's hand rested on the door as she waited for Tius to reply. "I check in regularly to see what it selling and what isn't."

[Vicentius]

He caught the motion of her head, and thought her gaze lingered a tad lower than it should have. Writing that thought off as wishful thinking on his part, he smiled, watching the carts pass with a critical eye. He had piqued her interest, that much was certain, but it remained to be seen whether or not he would continue to hold it.

"You must think me a piece of bread," he said, still smiling, "that I need to be buttered so heavily. Flattering is supposed to be my job, isn't it? I shall have to think on a suitable rejoinder."

An opening appeared in the traffic and Ivone pressed ahead with the confidence and experience of a seasoned urbanite, and Tius followed after her, taking a moment to get the name on the cart. Dung was a reality of a busy city, there was no avoiding that, and the street cleaners were on a tight schedule to sort it out. They were making a pretty penny off of it too, if the figures crossing his desk were any indication, but the great and the fussy of Marn were not the kind to settle for that when they could be more awkward in defense of their footwear. The most recent regulation required that all coaches and carts outfit their animals with a canvas harness to collect the dung before it hit the cobbles, and they meant to enforce it. The drivers complained about the smell, but the lower classes complaining was nothing new, so it was taken in stride. So, of course, his office had to handle the complaints and the fines.

Not that any of this subtext bothered Ivone, as she delicately adjusted her skirts back into place, hands roaming to ensure everything was where it should have been. He followed the motion with his eyes, noting where she paid most attention. It was an automatic reaction and owed little to thought, and he returned his attention to the passersby as they walked in companionable silence. This part of Marn had always been at the higher end of the scale, but the restrictions on business location had always pushed businesses out to the commercial district. Of course, this didn't suit the discerning consumers who could hardly be expected to hobnob with the rank and file; that was for servants, so the laws had been re-evaluated with the aim of creating a more flexible commercial environment. The demarcation between districts remained, but with a provision that specific, artisan businesses could operate on the borders, conveniently located on the main thoroughfare between the courts and the university.

"Putting off our visit to Markham's for a few minutes is a blow, of course," he said, with a wry smile, "but I shall endeavor not to flutter off."

[Ivone]

A mischievous smirk quirked Ivone’s lips.

“Dear Butterfly, your presence by my side is flattery enough.”

Cheesy, oh yes, but wasn’t that part of the fun? Ivone knew his eyes were on her as she shook out the skirt and smoothed her hands down her hips. Her waist was small. She smoothed down the front and back as well, just because. Again, she looked down using the hat to her advantage as she did.

The Plaza’s location was a smart one. Situated between the Civil Court offices and the University, business owners with a bit of sense would do well. The two blocks that made up the Plaza were a blend of boarding houses, cafes, and boutiques. The block closest to the University had a central area where shops put out tables on nice days. Though Tius joked, Ivone worried suddenly that she was inconveniencing him – a very unladylike, unaloof thing to think.

“Shall I meet you there?” Her tone was not worried or concerned, oh no. It was a simple query offering convenience. The door opened under her hand as two of the patrons made to leave. Ivone's hand closed, paused before the door, then dropped. Ivone stepped back giving the two ladies plenty of room to step out and away from the door.

“Oh, Ms. Ivone, what a pleasure to see you! We just love the honey and gardenia combination”

Ivone stepped back and away from the doorway, executing a perfect curtsy for the elder lady who addressed her. Ms. Emogen Stone beamed genially at Ivone and reached for Ivone’s hand. Emogen's age meant she was exempt from such things, but the woman did a partial one because of Ivone's social status.

Emogen was a solid woman of strong stock, who was nearly three times Ivone’s size in width and almost as tall as Tius. The daughter, Maudeen, was a thin as a rail, but just as tall. The Stones were Synevives, whose family had worked the Quarry for years. Had Ivone's family not been upwardly mobile, the Stone's and the Karalas' would have been peers. The son, Todd (short for Teodinus) had been injured during the explosions on the wall. He also would have been a viable suitor. Ivone suspected Emogen thought he still might be, though truth be told, Todd was not her type.

“And you as well. Thank you.”

Ivone patted Emogen’s hand.

“I’m so glad you like it. When Spring comes, I’ll make sure to look for other combinations with Gardenia for you.” Tilting her head and body slightly, Ivone peered around Emogen to Maudeen.

“Miss Maudeen, so good to see you, too." Ivone turned her attention back to Emogen, "Is Todd improving at all?”

Maudeen executed a quick and awkward curtsy to Ivone. She was looking at Tius and her gaze never wavered.

Emogen’s expression softened,

“Bless his heart, yes. Your gift basket was quite kind. He’s already talking about getting the work started again. Or, becoming a Guardsman. Could you imagine?”

“I’m glad to hear that, too. Though I think we need him on the wall more than we do walking the streets. You know Mr. Morrington, I presume?”

Ivone’s left hand swept gently toward Tius, palm upwards. The inside of her wrist flashed into view, bare skin between the navy blue of her gloves and dress. The gloves had three pearled buttons leading from her wrist to her palm. From behind, a view afforded to Tius now that she spoke with Emogen and Maudeen, one would find a row of the same pearled (navy blue, of course) buttons that marched down the line of Ivone's spine that ended beneath the ribbon. Ivone preferred understated elegance, but there were little touches here and there, indulgences indicating a tactile sensuality.

Emogen’s eyes twinkled merrily, “Anyone who didn’t, would after this morning’s paper! And now imagine seeing you two walking along the Plaza so early the next day.”

Emogen chuckled heartily. She was a gossip, if ever there was one and fancied herself a matchmaker, though she had never done either of her children such a service. One might think by her words the two of them hadn’t spent the night apart. More complications should that inference get out...

Ivone’s smile remained in place. To deny or affirm anything was fuel for the fire. The rebellious streak in her wanted to loop her arm in his, though, and set Emogen's tongue on fire. THAT was a poor idea and so she suppressed the urge. To keep herself from doing something impulsive, Ivone lifted her left hand and gently tugged on the edge of the glove, making sure the gap was closed. Staying quiet was rebellion enough.

“Mr. Morrington, a pleasure. You’re in the Office of Civil Obedience now, aren’t you?” Emogen turned her gaze, full to the brim with curiosity, to Tius Morrington.

[Vicentius]

“Not at all,” he said, “I’m happy to wait. Although given your hospitality, I feel compelled to buy something.”

Her boutique, from what he had seen of it, reflected her tastes and sensibilities quite well. The exterior was pleasantly appointed and in keeping with the architecture of the rest of the plaza, but the little touches set it apart for the consumer. Arrangements of flowers and scented trees by the doors and around the windows appealed to the nose and drew the eye to the products within, hinting more than showing to ensnare the curious. The design was clever, denying one a complete view of the interior until one stepped inside, and then the game was won. He wondered if Ivone herself had arranged the design. Shen whined, uncomfortable near such strong smells, and Tius bent to scratch behind his ears.

“Perhaps not,” he said, with a chuckle, “or Shen may never forgive me.”

He stepped aside as the door opened, giving Ivone the time she needed to ply her trade. Networking with one’s customers was as important as any sale, and he remained politely quiet as Emogen and Maudeen Stone conversed with Ivone. He knew the family by reputation, and had been to several functions with them, but he’d had little to do with them personally. The Stone family were of proud and storied stock, and worked the Quarry with a firm and steady hand for generations; as exemplars of Marn’s work ethic, they were to be commended, especially in their most recent efforts to complete the wall. From what he had seen, they were doing rather well out of it. Ambitious, too, if Emogen’s manner was anything to go by, but then what family wasn’t?

Todd’s injury during the bombings had been unfortunate, but from what he had heard, he was well on his way to recovery. Lady Sekhara and her people did wonderful work, even if much of it was maligned by Isyrion and her people, so even recovery could not be perfect, he would be back on his feet and mobile in no time. Still, he reflected, listening to the conversation, he would be ill-suited to Guard. The motivation was there, yes, but he was a good person at heart, and the knuckle dragging elements of the Guard would chew him up. Restoring the wall to proper order and showing the terrorists that life would continue, unabated, in spite of their efforts, was the more powerful message to his mind. Marn endured and so would its people. He had sent a gift basket too, along with his condolences and good wishes, to all those injured, visiting the lower classes himself where possible to commend them for their endurance. He said nothing of his own injuries, of course, they were only scratches, and besides, when people found out about it on his own, it made him look suitably modest to boot.

Unlike her mother, who remained focused on Ivone for the moment, Maudeen kept her gaze firmly on him, though thankfully she managed not to gape. Briefly wondering which of the many rumours had her so speechless, he acknowledged her attention with an incline of his head. Doing more before he had been introduced to the conversation and before addressing the matriarch would have been impolite, even if his social status did not require that consideration. Ivone gestured to him, and he bowed slightly, noting the buttons on her glove and the back of her dress as she moved. Pearl, though subtle due to the matching colours, small tells of expense. The colouring and the placement precluded their being there to impress, so he suspected they were there to give her a small thrill, and subtly impress whomever she allowed to get close. He suspected the impression in this instance was being made upon him.

He raised both eyebrows gently at her comments, as though puzzled. Of course everyone had read it, and he was looking forward to hearing about it endlessly at work, but in the mean, how one managed such gossip was the true test of nobility. He kept up the puzzled expression for a moment, then his expression cleared and he smiled, stepping forwards to offer his hand to Emogen, eyes twinkling. There was a question with a hook in it, indeed, although Emogene was not the most talented angler. Ivone’s careful lack of a reaction was a tell in and of itself, but she fiddled with her gloves and looked down, which was his cue to move in.

“Oh! That article,” he said, shaking his head, “I saw that this morning, actually, very entertaining. I must confess though, Miss Stone, I am at quite a loss as to what they were implying. I’m afraid I’m quite at sea with the society scene, but I don’t quite think the writer saw the same things we saw, did they?”

He looked to Ivone, questioningly.

“Positively scandalous what was going on there,” he went on, turning back to Emogen, “if I hadn’t been there to keep Cisme out of trouble, I feign to think what might have happened. Can you imagine? I’d never have heard the end of it.”

He coughed, a little uncomfortably, and some uncertainty crept into his smile.

“I’m afraid if Miss Malatrast hadn’t offered her assistance, I’d never have been able to work up the courage,” he said, “but a gentleman and a brother must persevere, must we not?”

Straightening, he pushed the uncertainty down and clasped his hands together.

“Yes, my office is a much more wholesome endeavour, thankfully,” he said, putting a hand on his heart, “not as glamorous as the Guard, of course, but I’m happy to be doing my part for the peace of our great city.”

He turned to the daughter, bowing slightly again.

“And Miss...Maudeen, is it? I don’t believe we’ve properly met?”

[Ivone]

Ivone gave Shen a look of concern.

“I’m sorry it’s too smelly for you, Shen. Perhaps I should make things to appeal to pets and pet owners, as well.”

Ivone gave Shen a conciliatory pet with her left hand, glove and all, stroking her hand over the dog’s head. If Tius had thought Ivone had removed the gloves to save them from touching the dog, he’d find now that was not the case. If he ever asked, she’d removed the gloves because she had wanted to feel Shen’s fur and pet him properly. In some odd way it was a compliment to the dog and its master. As with the buttons and fabric, Ivone was a tactile creature. Maybe Tius would learn this over time.

When Tius inclined his head, Maudeen’s eyes widened and her mouth smooshed out as if she were keeping a meep of noise inside. Her cheeks turned pink and her gaze broke away from Tius, but not for long. She was looking at him as if he were some foreign object she’d never seen before. If she were a better flirt, Maudeen would have been simpering at this point.

Ivone wished she could observe Tius as Maudeen did. Her wish was granted when Emogen focused her attention on him. Ivone adjusted the right glove as well, canting her head to the side so she might watch Tius in action as a more avid observer. In prior years, she’d not turned her eye to him as she did now. He was… an interesting and a fascinating subject. Ivone watched as his expression moved from confusion to pure charm, stepping in as the “hero,” to rescue her reputation with a neat and deprecating story.

Ivone shook her head, agreeing with Tius. Her expression was of polite concern.

“Things are certainly different, but times do change and young people will be young.”

Ivone clasped her hands before her and put a carefully crafted mask on.

Tius spoke as if he were from another era, appealing to Emogen’s sense of propriety. Ivone managed not to laugh. Given the behaviors that went on at house parties, the activities at The Salon were positively virtuous.

“Quite right, Mr. Morrington. Quite right. Maudeen had asked to go, but I put my foot down on that.” Maudeen's expression showed she was not happy with her mother's heavy-handedness.

Emogen barely contained her excitement at introducing her very marriageable daughter to the very eligible Morrington scion. Pushing her daughter toward Tius, Emogen said,

“Maudeen, greet Mr. Morrington.”

Ivone felt annoyed that mother’s felt it necessary to do that. Maudeen stumbled forward, peevish expression replaced by an attempt to look polite as she was pushed against her will into the spotlight. Her curtsey was quick and awkward.

Maudeen’s only talent was one shared with only a select few. She liked to write stories about the Descendants, starring her as the leading lady, of course (under a different name. Maudeen used “The Lady M” for hers). Already in her fevered imagination, this meeting would turn into a grand love affair where she would eventually break Tius Morrington’s heart when she left Marn to explore Eyropa. There was an underground market for these “fan” stories, shared surreptitiously as little notes passed between students.

“A pleasure, Sir.”

Knowing the potential for the conversation to go on forever, Ivone stilled herself as she had been taught to do, distracted only by Shen's moving to lean against her leg, seeking more petting. Ivone's hand dropped back to the top of Shen's head and she pet him, watching the trio before her. As she watched, she wondered if Tius viewed her in the same way he viewed everyone else. As she watched him, she marveled at his smooth transitions and easy deflection. Truly, he was a master. Tius strode in with an easy smile, deprecating and modest humor, and an approachable personality. Could others not see it because they did not want to?

Was it possible they suspected and had set him on her? If not, did he think he had something to gain with an alliance with her? Or, was he truly a safety line for a drowning woman? Only the middle option seemed the most palatable. The former, because she wanted the latter, was terrifying. The latter was too cruel to consider, because hope was dangerous and painful. No, she reminded herself, she was the one who had engaged him first. Her own selfishness and loneliness was the culprit, here.

Ivone felt suddenly impatient for the conversation to be over, finding she wanted Tius' attention back to herself. She managed to maintain her stillness. It would be overly rude to do anything else. How could she blame Emogen for wanting for her family the same her own mother had wanted. Ivone's fingers absently scratched Shen's back as the dog leaned heavier on her leg. He'd maneuvered to get his favorite spot scratched as the conversations continued. She didn't begrudge Shen his attempts. She was grateful of them for the distraction they afforded.

"Don't you think so, Ms. Ivone?" Emogen had turned her gaze back to Ivone and posed a question. Ivone was caught offguard in front of Tius again.

Ivone looked up from Shen, eyes wide. Her gaze moved from Emogen to Maudeen to Tius and back to Emogen. She gave a laugh, color filling her cheeks again. There was no playing it off. She'd been too engrossed in her own thoughts to pay attention to the conversation.

"Oh, Mrs. Stone! I'm afraid I was thinking about making a line of soaps for pets and managed to distract myself."

Emogen's eyes widened, but not in affront, "Ms. Ivone, what a positively brilliant idea. Our dogs often come back smelling as if they'd rolled in something very unpleasant. I'm sure if you made something like that, it would sell quite well."

Ivone smiled and looked down, showing the right amount of gratefulness and humility at Emogen's praise and approbation. "You're too kind, as always, Mrs. Stone." Across the Plaza, a decorative clock chimed the hour.

"Oh my! I'll be late to my Ladies Group if we don't hurry back." Mrs. Stone curtsied to both Tius and Ivone, full of her observations and ready to share them. "We're having a brunch and making quilts and baskets for families in need."

[Vicentius]

He smiled at Maudeen's, slightly awkward, introduction, sweeping into a formal bow. If he was going to do this, he decided, as with anything, then he was going to do it properly. After all, Emogen Stone was going to gossip regardless of what he did, so he might as well give her something good to gossip about. If he was lucky, then he might be able to draw some attention from Ivone. She didn't need his help in that regard, it was true, or at least he believed she didn't, but he also believed that she didn't need the aggravation either. She was watching him, he was certain, judging him, just as Emogen and Maudeen were judging him, and he didn't dare disappoint her. Grasping Maudeen's hand as firmly and gently as he had Ivone's the night before, he brushed his lips against her knuckles and straightened, eyes twinkling.

"Enchanted, Miss Stone," he said, "I did so enjoy your article on Keltaris."

Well, article was giving it rather higher praise than perhaps it deserved, but Maudeen looked like she could use the lift. He'd had the pleasure of reading that particular piece after a visit from Cisme a month or so beforehand, and he'd had too re-read a number of rather...unique phrases... it contained. Still, he had to applaud her imagination, as it had been rich in detail, horribly inaccurate and exaggerated detail, but detail all the same. Creativity was to be encouraged in all its forms and nurtured where possible. He smiled at her expression of mild shock, deciding to offer an olive branch.

"Though if you intend to write in detail about the city, I can recommend a cartographer with some marvelously detailed maps, and more than a few books on the subject I'd be happy to loan you."

Of course, Emogen wasn't going to let Maudeen actually converse with him for any length of time without pushing her agenda. Conversations with people usually went one of two ways; either they complimented him, played for time, and then got around to mentioning what they actually wanted, or they tossed out a few compliments and began fishing for information, occasionally prodding him to see what he would do. One could either weather those conversations or fold, and he had not been raised to fold, os of course he rose to the challenge. Accept every blow, roll with it, and deflect away, watch for an opening, then strike. The Stones were a fascinating family, in some ways, but if he were to take his father's position one might think they were ambitious beyond their station. Emogen was an example of what was becoming more and more common in the city, and while he disapproved of it, he would not rise to the bait. So he deflected every probing question as effortlessly as he'd been taught and responded with polite small talk that gave nothing away.

As they spoke, he became aware of a certain tension in Ivone, though he couldn't see her properly from the corner of his eye. Not that Shen minded being able to monopolize her attention by any means; that dog would practically kill for a belly rub and a smile, but he would soon be eager to get going again. He sensed that same eagerness in Ivone, though he could not say where it was coming from. Did she approve of him? Did she see something in him that she wanted? Was she as curious about him as he was about her? There was reservation there, certainly, but it ran deeper than simple nerves at meeting him. She hadn't removed her gloves to scratch Shen either, which was interesting. Perhaps it was the company, he thought; the gloves and the materials they were made of were a subtle display of wealth and power in their own right. It was a technique lost on some elements of the nobility, as the idea that they could simply be upper crust without actively reminding everyone of said fact seemed to be quite foreign.

So, of course, the conversation drifted on, Tius playing his part as well as he could, and gradually he managed to steer the conversation so that it was almost universally about Emogen and Maudeen. It was delicate, but it worked, and Emogen spent a great deal of time preening at his compliments and correcting the scurrilous rumours he'd heard about the activities of her family. He learned quite a bit, though most of it tedious, and subtly offered to help Maudeen in her literary efforts. By the time the conversation turned back to the Guard, Emogen was in full swing, and he could not have appeared more interested or sympathetic if he tried. Really, all it took sometimes was an open ear and the right questions and people did the work for him. Clearly, Miss Stone weighed down on the Guard side of the argument, and had certain hopes for her children that lay in that direction, while the rest was opportunism. She had turned to discussing the best strategies to affect recovery in the city when she finally turned to Ivone.

"Don't you think so, Miss Malatrast?"

He had to applaud Ivone too. She'd clearly been caught up in her thoughts, but she rallied beautifully, shifting attention away with an easy chuckle and directing Emogen's attention to a safer topic. He did have to admit that she was adorable when flustered, and that the woman she showed hen her walls were down could make pensive look quite attractive with very little effort. He smiled at their suggestions and looked around as the clock struck the hour, then back as Emogen claimed the need to hurry away. He inclined his head at her words, though he was disinclined to believe them, given how swollen with observation Emogen seemed to be.

"A pleasure Mrs Stone, Miss Maudeen," he said, "have a pleasant day. Be sure to send some to my office that we may spread the word."

He bowed again as they took their leave, turning to give Shen the attention he deserved for being so well behaved, then glanced up at Ivone.

"Perfume for Dogs? A novel concept, though a lack of scent would be a difficult selling point to people like the Stones."

[Ivone]

Maudeen’s eyes widened and she gave another little meep of sound. Her face mottled red, like a turkey’s wattle, all the way down to her throat and one could assume the top of her chest as well. The feel of his lips on the back of her hand sent a thrill right through her. Maybe her heroine wouldn’t break his heart after all… Maudeen’s body tensed. He would loan her books? That meant they could be alone together. A flush of pleasure coursed through her body. Her heroine would definitely feel this. How to describe this sensation without making it too filthy…
Maudeen cast a glance at her mother, who looked particularly approving of the offer. And, mother would allow it! If Maudeen played her cards right, maybe…

“Oh, how splendid of you to offer to spend time with Maudeen to review your books.” Emogen replied, agenda squarely pushed. Imagine snatching such an eligible bachelor out from under the likes of Ivone Karalas. Ivone’s mother would be beside herself with jealousy. Maudeen certainly wouldn’t have any trouble providing heirs, unlike Ivone whose one chance has been tragically lost. Bless her heart.

“Oh, Mister Morrington! You are too kind. I will, I most certainly will!” Emogen added that as another feather in her cap. The Ladies Auxillary would be put out to know she’d managed to secure help from a Civil Office and arrange a meeting between Vincentius Morrington and her Maudeen.

With double the attention, Shen was ecstatic. Ivone nodded, looking up at Tius, mind mulling over the viable options. They were closer this way. Ivone tilted her head slightly, to look at him better. He had an endearing smile. And, they way he sometimes bit his lip brought her attention to them again. Ivone was suddenly aware of her own mouth. Her lips parted slightly and she breathed out. If he were a little closer, her chin might've lifted... She broke her gaze and looked him in the eye instead. Why was her heart beating so hard in her chest? Attraction? Or was it the damnable kindnesses that did her in?

“The scents would have to be extremely subtle wouldn’t they?" A soft murmur to ensure her voice was under her control. "... and, whatever it is made of would need to be safe for them to consume. Maybe a de-odorizer versus something to make them smell like perfume…”

In his excitement, Shen bounced up and snuck a lick at them both. Apparently doggy kisses were the order of the day, not human ones. Shen's antics broke the tension and Ivone made a face, part amusement and part crinkled nose. Doggy kisses while sweet were also a tad wet and smelly. Ivone chuckled and straightened, to reach for a handkerchief.

Shen had trod on Ivone’s foot and skirt in his excitement as well. When Ivone straightened, there was the distinct sound of seams popping and the tear of fabric. Ivone’s eyes widened, but she gently pushed Shen from her foot with a pat. She held up a hand.

"Not a word, I can fix this easily enough."