(1310-08-08) A Chance Encounter
Summary: A random meeting in the Rooftop Gardens of the Ducal Palace
RL Date: Wed Aug 8th
Related: None
irene thibault 

Rooftop Garden — Ducal Palace

The Rooftop Garden of the Ducal Palace is the perfect place to escape a noisy city life. Even during the middle of the day it seems that the time stops here. There is nothing but a wind and a beautiful smell of flowers. Buzzling sound of the street is brought up but mixes with the whispering breeze and fades in the air.
A young woman is standing at the edge of the roof, leaning on the fence and staring down at thepeople who look just a little bit larger than ants. Embroidered floral lace of her dress forms the v-neck sleeveless bodice that is mirrored on the v-back. The detailed lace cascades onto the lined a-line silk skirt that flows to a full floor length. The color of the dress is light rosy, almost blurs with the young woman's skin. Her thick and shiny jewels betray that Irene's statu is indeed noble. She is a noble who can afford taking a leisure time at this hour. She can simply stand there and tap her fingers idly drowning in her own thoughts.

<FS3> Thibault rolls Perception: Failure. (6 3 2 6 3 3 2)

Thibault strolls into the center part of the calm and quiet gardens with long, confident steps. He stops near one of the benches, his eyes idly scanning the area. He doesn't seem to be looking for anything or anyone in particular judging by his casual demeanor. He closes his eyes and turns his face up towards the sky for a long moment, his chest rising and falling with a deep sigh. He doesn't seem to notice the young woman standing at the far end of the garden looking down on the masses going about their daily business on the streets below.

He's clad in a stylish, sombre attire with black pants tucked into perfectly polished boots reaching to midway up his calves and a dark crimson shirt of finest silk under a finely embroidered black vest. A long thin scabbard hangs at his waist, held by a thin red leather belt with intricate carvings. An outfit more than suitable for, say, presenting yourself at court? Though if that is his intent hre today, he certainly doesn't seem to be in any kind of rush.

"Freedom. Peace. Salvation. Three things I find here," a soft giggly voice of a young female speaks out. She tiptoes a little bit in order to see the newly arrived lord. He might have not noticed her because petite Irene was almost fully hidden behind an old, stretched out, quite thick shrub of bluebeards. Though, it's not comfortable standing on your toes. So, she wanders out from behind the bush. Her fingers gently nip on the fabric of a wide skirt that d'Eresse lady could raise it up and make sure it's not sweeping all the dusts from the ground. "I have not seen you around before," she explains. "Did you arrive recently? I must be lucky. You will be a second newly arrived lord whom I happen to meet today. I am Irene d'Eresse. Lady in waiting to our Duchess!" She comes closer to the man and leans against the fence not very far away from Thibault. A chatty girl continues. "Welcome to Marsilikos. I am pretty sure that you will enjoy the city. I grew loving it even if I missed home terribly two days after I left!" She chuckles and her fingers cover rosy lips to muffle the sound of her laugh.

The tall young lord opens his eyes and with another short sigh turns his head ever so slowly towards where the voice of a young woman suddenly speaks. He then turns his head to first one side and then another, as if to make sure that no one else is present and that she is indeed addressing him. Then his gaze turns back to Irene and he tilts his head to one side as he seems to ponder something, one hand coming up to run through the thick black hair. Then, after a long few seconds, a faint smile tugs at one corner of his full lips. "It certainly is peaceful up here, I'll give you that. But what would a young lady-in-waiting such as yourself have to seek salvation for, I wonder?" He answers in a flat tone. Another long, blinkless stare before a hands come up to halt any premature response.

"It hardly matters. Thank you for your welcome Lady d'Eresse, I am Thibault Charlot, a pleasure making your acquaintance." His chin dips into a courteous nod as he presents himself, before he takes a couple of slow steps closer to join the young lady at the fence, looking out at the horizon as he speaks. "And you are right in that I have only just arrived here in Marsilikos." Then his head turns slightly as he looks at Irene through the corners of his eyes, lips curling into a faint, amused smirk. "As to whether or not you are lucky to have met me….well, I guess time will tell." He turns his eyes back to the rather impressive view of the city still coming to life below them, leaning on the fence in a relaxed posture before continuing. "So what are you doing up here, then? Shouldn't you be at the Duchess' side, attending her every need?"

Irene parted her lips to spill out a whole novel of why a young lady as her would be in the need of salvation. However, the man cuts her off before any words leave her throat. She just stares at him. Blinks. A mild annoyance shows up that he did not allow her to speak. However, when she hears his last name a wide smile jumps up in her features and she even slides a little bit closer to the man. Her eyes curiously study his appearance and amusement grows with each small second in her dark brown gaze. The young woman even bites her bottom lip not to burst out in laughter. When he finishes his tirade, Irene still can not focus on the man's questions. She stares up at him in deep consideration as if she would be trying to see right through the man. The lady in waiting even tiptoes to better focus on his eyes, and allow her keen eyes to wander over the man's nose, down to his neck, shoulders, chest…

Thibault merely stands there, still leaned on the fence with eyes locked on the horizon. When no answer to his question seems forthcoming, he turns his head slowly towards Irene, his eyes widening ever so slighty as if he had completely forgotten that she was there and is mildly surprised to find himself not alone. He pushes off the fence and straightens his posture, looking down to her, the near one-and-a-half foot difference in height all the more obvious now that they're standing right next to each other. Deeply set eyes of golden amber look her over with a mixture of curiosity and mild annoyance as he arches a brow.
"Did I say something funny? As a Lady, and a Lady-in-Waiting to the Duchess no less, I would assume that you had been taught that it isn't polite to stare.." He says in the same flat tone, his gaze sweeping down from her face to her feet and back up again before his eyes lock with hers, looking at her with an expression like the one a teacher would give a student about to answer a question that will decide if they pass or fail.

"Oh!" Irene gasps and shakes her head. "I am so sorry. I mean no offense. Trust me, I have been taught of proper manners better than half of the ladies in this city and the others!" The young woman states boldly and then explains her strange behaviour. "Lets just say that I have developed a very interesting friendship with… I imagine, your uncle? We had a couple of /very/ interesting conversations. So, I was just looking at you and thinking… That's exactly how I imagined Lord Cyriel when he was young!" The lady-in-waiting chuckles and then shakes her head, this time turning her gaze away. Most likely, thinking of those conversations. "Did you come to visit him? Lord Cyriel is quite a grumpy man, I must say. Again, I mean no offense but you also look a little bit more grim. Is that a common trait in the lands you come from? I bet you have quite long winters and heavy winds there. I heard that weather can add quite a heavy tone to people's personalities."

A raised hand and a slow nod is offered at her apology to indicate that no offense is taken. The faint smirk on his lips hint at that he quite possibly wasn't being serious about it in the first place and that he got the responce that he wanted, or at least close enough. Then his expression turns more than a little skeptical as she mentions his relative. "Cousin." He corrects her. "And no, I did not come to Marsilikos to visit him, infact I didn't even know that he was currently in the city. Now that I do, however, I will make sure to look him up at earliest convenience." Which, judging by the casual indifference in his voice, most likely means whenever they randomly bump into eachother at the Charlot Estate or around town. He leans back a bit and tilts his head to one side as he looks her over in full once more, his eyes slowly gliding over her.

"It will be interesting to hear his accounts of your so called friendship, you don't strike me as his type. As to the comparison of our appearances….I have to wonder….where you perhaps blindfolded during your meetings with him?" No trace of intended humor in his voice as he says this but it's clear that he finds the notion at least slightly amusing. The questions regarding if the weather has had any part in shaping his cousin's is glossed over for now with nothing more than a slight increase in the skepticism of his expression for a long moment and a slight shake of the head. Then he leans down until his face is level with Irene's and speaks in a low, soft voice. "Also, if you're trying to impress people, you should probably come up with something better than having been taught better than half the ladies here. Being better than half of your peers is hardly impressive and certainly not something you should go around sounding proud of." A small mithless smile before he straightens his posture once more.

Irene just shrugs at all what the man says. In fact, she shrugs a few times and even rolls her eyes at the end. "I am sorry, but I am not trying to impress you. You are very young, obviously, since you think all ladies would fall for your height and indifferently mysterious posture!" The lady-in-waiting takes a few steps backwards to make more space between them. She eyes Thibault one more time and then sighs. "And for your interest, I was wrong. Lord Cyriel must have been more handsome. Forgive me, but I am quite blunt. Especially when I see someone thinking too highly of himself. Again, I mean no offense. Just saying that the majority of the men here look equally handsome as you. Your cousin, on the other hand, is quite special. And yes!" She frowns now. "You can ask him if you want. We are friends. You were too quick to judge me."

Her features light up with a pleasant, warm smile again after a small outburst. "If you will stay longer, you must visit the port at night. Impressively beautiful, quite peaceful like these gardens. However, I love the humming of the waves out there far more than peoples whispers here." She starts to change the topic to something more easy what wouldn't cause issues because of different opinions.

Thibault leans back against the fence as Irene starts her rant. Golden eyes flare with calm amusement and she draws a small, low pitched "hm.." from his lips. "Well, it sure sounded like you were, proclaiming your suppposed mediocrity with such pride. And you are obviously very young yourself since you consider a handful of conversations to equate to anything resembling friendship. Seems rather desperate, really." A small shrug before a curious glance. "Is that what you think I am doing? Trying to make you fall for me? If so, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Not that you would be I assume, since you seem so infatuated with my cousin that you feel the need to come to his imagined defense." An amused smirk, then. "And just to make it clear, I was simply referring to the fact that me and my cousin have very little, if anything, in common when it comes to physical appearance, not trying to make it a contest. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that." A small dismissive wave of the wrist and what will have to serve as a smile at this. To her words "allowing" him to tell Cyriel, he gives a slow nod and a smile tugs a the corner of his lips. "Oh I will, I am sure that he'll find it highly amusing, and incase he shouldn't, I'll certainly enjoy recounting it non the less."

Her attempts at steering the conversation in another direction earns her a mirthless smile and is then summarily ignored. "So, where did the two of you meet?"

Irene simply ignores the snarky comments. She even seems to be mildly amused by it. Maybe because she already trained herself for such type of conversations when she was talking to Cyriel. Who knows! But she does not show any anger, disappointment or stress regarding the way Thibault speaks. At his last question, though, the young lady shrugs. "I can not recall now where we have met. However, I definitely remember that we both tried to dance during the ball arranged by our duchess. Unfortunately, nor he nor I were enjoying dancing. So, we went outside and I just made his portrait. I sketch and I must say I am quite good at it. Ask him to show you his portrait. You will be suprised!" Irene explains with a quite passionate and cheerful intonation.

"Are you in a hurry?" She asks after a moment. "I still have some time and I would like to hear more about your journeys before comming to Marsilikos. My brothers desire to travel and adventure as well. I guess that's such a boy thing to want!" The brown eyed girl laughs, pointing toward the bench in an offer for them to take a seat.

Thibault listens to Irene as she speaks, a slight narrowing of the eyes as she mentions not enjoying to dance. Not in a threatening way, more in seeming surprise. And perhaps disappointment? He doesn't interrupt her though, instead letting her finish before he pushes off the fence and straightens his posture. A small nod and a smile.

"I make it a case to never be in a hurry, m'lady, especially so when in the company of beauty." A compliment? It sure sounded like it but the lack of emotion in his voice or any kind of tells in his mimicry makes it hard to know for sure. He offers her his arm to escort her the few steps towards the bench before moving to it and taking a seat. "An artist, then? I'll be sure to remember to ask him to show me your work. " He leans back and looks up to the sky before continuing. "I don't know if that is entirely true, I think we simply have different ideas about what the word adventure means. As for my own travels, I'd hardly name them as such, as much as I have enjoyed them. A simple tour, if you will, around the country to see how things fare there and introduce myself to some of the people my family has relations with. Then again, most often you don't know you're on an adventure until after the fact when looking back upon it, I suppose." He says with a small shrug. Then he looks back to Irene with those piercing golden orbs, tilting his head to one side. "Do you really not like to dance then?"

Irene listens to the man and her eyes grow wider in a mild surprise. "You do sound quite intelligentfor your age!" As if she did not expect that at all and as if she would be hundred years old. "I wish that my brothers would have a similar view. Maybe then they would know that they already had more than one adventure and it doe snot necesserily has to include danger…" She sighs. A moment of silence.

"I wouldn't call myself an artist, m'lord. But I do enjoy memorizing people I talk to or people I see. A picture is my note. When I draw someone, I draw emotions, I feel as if I draw a soul. And then I can remember what caught my eye. It stays in my heart forever. Sometimes I am very scared that I will forget people and places when I will grow old. I will forget joyful memories and all those beautiful and interesting people I met! But then I can open my sketchbook, you know?!" She chuckles. Her gaze meets Thibaults.

"I guess I am weird like that," Irene explains about the dancing. "I must say that I was very much withdrawn into my own world. Not like I didn't like people. I loved talking to people, exloring who they are, and drawing. But I did not learn how to dance. I did not learn many things… My parents were kind to allow me to enjoy my passions! What about your parents? Who are they?"

Thibault's eyes widen slightly in a mirror of the young woman's at her first words. "Coming from a seasoned and wise woman such at yourself, that is certainly a compliment." A faint smile at those words, a smile holding a touch of warmth for the first time during their conversation. Then his expression turns more serious again as he considers the next part. "Your brothers are most likely simply trying to prove themselves. Most people expect men to provide safety and protection, amongst other things, and how do you prove yourself capable of such a thing without facing what surmounts to danger in most minds? Or, maybe they're simply bored." He shrugs.%r%rHer words about the reasons for her love of sketching is met with a series of thoughtful nods. "While I don't hold the same fears, that does make a lot of sense. I try to not think too far ahead personally. Things have a way of changing on screweing over even the best laid plans, so why bother with it." Another shrug.

"A little weird isn't necessarily bad. Makes you stand out, which can be hard enough to do in a city such as Marsilikos, I would assume." He offers. Then his expression turns more distant as she starts asking about his parents. A long moment as he considers what to say to this. "Well, formalities first. My father is Cyrano Rainier Charlot, Vicomte de Châteaugiron, my mother is Felicienne Charlot de Morhban. Fine and honorable people both of them. Very….traditional." A beat. "Let's just say that my parents have a slightly different way of looking at things than yours, by the sound of it. I owe them a lot and I hope to one day be able to repay the trust and faith they have put in me."

"Well, it's idiotic, in my point of view," Irene simply states, "Half of the men come back injured, or just do not come back after their 'proving adventures'. Does it not lose the point then? You do not prove yourself, right? Instead… you are just gone? I believe that this desire to prove themselves come from very selfish interests. Usually, they think only about their own glory and all those hearts of young ladies they would win. But they do not think about the sorrow of their parents and siblings. In case they would not come back, I mean." A girl rubs her finger into the bench. Her eyes are turned different direction than Thibault is sitting. "And just do not try to tell me, that it's rare and majority of the men come back. You can never know where death will catch you up. There is nothing more silly than to say 'this is not going to happen to me'…" She sighs again. There is a small shake of her head. Maybe, just to push bad thoughts away.

When she looks back at Thibault, she is smiling. "Do you like dancing? What else do you enjoy?" She ask in a simple honest curiosity and then adds about his parents, "They sound like very serious people. One way or the other, I am pretty sure that they did what all parents do. They tried to provide you with what they thought was the best. Hmmm… Do you have any siblings? My both brothers already have their beloved ones. I visited Marsilikos to stay with them but I barely see them. I only have two older brothers. Gauge is quite busy with running our house while Belmont… is being Belmont." She chuckles at that.

Thibault looks at her with mild surprise and a hint of skepticism. Maybe at her choice of words? He seems to consider this as his gaze again falls upon the sky above. "Idiotic? Perhaps, in some cases. Selfish? I think that is a hard judgement. In my experience such things are most often the result of external pressure and expectations more than anything else, or worse, lack thereoff , even if it does serve to shape it into a personal need and desire over time. Often the things we want the most for ourselves, in the end, is done to please others in some way when we look deep enough." A small sigh.

He looks back at her when she mentions dancing, the gaze of his amber eyes softening a bit again. "Yes, I do, very much so. That was one of the pleasures my parents did not seem to mind. It has a lot in common with swordplay I find, another passtime I admit to enjoying, except for not holding a blade in your hand, naturally. The precision of movements and control of ones body it requires are not that different. I'd be more than happy to show you sometime, should you ever wish to catch up on those lessons you seem to have missed out on. I'm hardly a teacher but……" A short pause before he answers her words regarding his parents and possible siblings. "Of that I have no doubt. My parents aren't ones to settle for anything but best. Trust me." He gives her a knowing look. "As to siblings….yes. I have a younger sister that I am very fond of. She's an insufferable know-it-all to be fair, but she is very dear to me non the less." Another short pause as he seems to consider whether to continue or not. "I also have a brother but……he chose a different path many years ago. I haven't seen him since." A flash of something comes over his features. Pain? Regret? Anger? All of the them? A small shake of the head and a flick of the wrist dismisses the emotions, whatever they were. "At least you still have your brothers at your side, for now." His lips move to continue but instead he stops, falling silent. Enough details for now, it would seem.

"Oh…" Irene's smile slowly fades when the man speaks of the reasoning behind desire to venture on a challenge in life. "Forgive me, m'lord, but it seems that you speak from experience. If this is the case, then…" She raises her hand as if willing to place it on top of his. Most likely, in pity or just a small reassurance. However, her hand stays hanging in the air. "… then I am really sorry. Though, despite your past you are here. A man with a passion for dancing and blades. A man of high intelligence for his age. A man with a good taste in small humor but also a man of solid posture as his heritage demands. You definitely have reasons to be proud." She tries to offer a smile but it's a hard one.

"My mother used to say that nothing in this world happens without a reason. All the experience of the past had to happen that it would shape you into who you are. Usually, you get what you need in order to learn and survive in the future. Sometimes it might be unfair, but when you will be old and look back at your past, you won't regret a thing. Of course, unless you become a terrible murderer without a heart or something similar. I am not talking about exceptional villains!" She waves her hand off. "I am talking about normal human beings."
The young lady laughs at the end. "Forgive me, sometimes I wander off too far into some nonesense! I already took too much of your time and too much of my leisure time. I should go back to the duchess. It was a pleasure to meet you. I am pretty sure we will see each other again. While I might not ask for swordplay lessons, I could definitely use some more dancing experience!" She stands up and offers a polite curtsy. "Have a wonderful day, m'lord."

He tilts his head and there is a slight narrowing of eyes as he seems to consider if she is mocking him. I mean, that is a LOT of compliments in one go. A curious smile and a quirked brow as he seemingly comes to the conclusion that she isn't. "No reason to be sorry at all, I assure you. I am quite content with my lot in life, as it were. As I mentioned, I am thankful to my family for everything they have taught me and the trust they put in me." A hand comes up in front of his chest shortly to further underline the words.

"As for your mother's words, I agree for a large part. I never believed in regret or put much stock in the word /fair/." The last word is spoken with a lazy roll of the eyes and a small scoff.

He rises when she does and returns the curtsy with a with a bow and a polite smile. "Yes, I wouldn't want to keep you from your duties. It has been a pleasure m'lady. As for the dancing lessons, maybe when next we meet, we'll have a chance to explore that. Until then, I wish you all the best." He remains standing until she turns and starts walking away, his gaze lingering on her as he sits back down, until she is out of sight. "Interesting.." he mumbles under his breath.

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