(1310-10-27) After the Feast
Summary: A bride and groom leave from their wedding feast. But what follows does not go quite as expected.
RL Date: 29-31/10/2018
Related: The Wedding Feast
evelyne sebastien 

Basilisque Residence

A wedding feast is a curious occurrence. On the one hand, a union is celebrated, both bride and groom are offered congratulations and gifts, there is food, wine, music and dancing…

And then there is that other purpose, an awareness looming, a notion stirring both excitement and uncertainty. At least Evelyne seems to sense such, as she sits beside Sebastien throughout the evening, inbetween rising to perform the first dance with her husband, another occasion to show off her daring dress, a dress Sébastien had picked for her but fit her daring personality so well.

The time has come finally to withdraw, and so the newlywed pair excuses itself from the still ongoing wedding festivities, as they head out into the night — and to the carriage that is waiting to take them to the Basilisque Residence. A warm cloak with insets of fur has been wrapped about Evelyne’s shoulders, and she looks towards Sebastien, waiting for him to help her into the carriage.

It’s been quite an evening to Sebastien as he had to go through the same thing one more time. He has been married before and so such a festivity is not a stranger to the vicomte. At some point, it’s more a Déjà vu. Once again he was not able to stay away from the glass of wine before even the event has started and the guests flood the Grand Hall with congratulations and polite smiles. By the point when they leave the guests behind, Sebastien is drunk enough to have a broad smile dancing in his features and actually enjoy the evening but not drunk enough to be incapable of assisting his wife.

So, he extends a hand and helps lady Evelyne to settle down in the carriage. He also slumbers down on a seat. “Quite an evening, huh?” He asks turning attention to the young lady at his side. “How are you feeling, Evelyne?”

“Yes, it is,” Evelyne agrees, still able to move somewhat gracefully as she climbs into the carriage with Sebastien’s assistance. She had more than one glass of wine, and the fact that her hand rests upon his arm shortly before she settles herself. Across from him. Which grants her the view of his handsome features. Leaning slightly forward, he might smell a slight increase in her scent of apples. “I think I didn’t blunder, or make you look bad,” his young wife intones, tilting her head a little which will cause some of her blonde hair to spill over one shoulder. “How am I feeling? A little tipsy… and upto mischief.” She smirks, leaning away then from him with a faintly wicked glint in her blue eyes.

The carriage begins to move, heading out of the palace courtyard, and then in the general direction of the Noble District.

“You were magnificent, Evelyne…” Sebastien admits. “You were the one who arranged the whole feast, and you stood proudly and… correctly in front of this large judging and gossiping crowd. I couldn’t be more than… you are just great. Are… Are you cold?” He asks but his gaze peeks through the carriage’s window. “Today is quite windy. I… Well, not as windy as it gets in Camlach!” He chuckles and turns back to his beautiful wife. “That dress looks great on you. Do you want to just simply head back to our home or are you up to something more?”

“Well…”, Evelyne responds with a smile, “I should at least be good for something. It was the first feast I have arranged, I’d say it could have gone worse.” Her hand lifts, drawing the warm cloak a bit tighter about her shoulders. “I am, actually, a little cold. You saw it yourself, I am almost naked beneath this cloak,” she tells him with a chuckle. Before the young blonde woman bites her lip, considering Sebastien’s question. “What do you mean? Up for some more? Do you have a suggestion?”, she asks, looking at him with new curiosity.

Sebastien pushes himself closer to Evelyne and if she allows, the man raises his hand up in order to wrap it around her shoulders and basically brings her to the side under his warm cloak. “Nah… I didn’t have anything specific in mind. Stupid question. Forgive me.” He rolls his eyes and turns the gaze to the dark streets instead. “I already found you a tutor that you could learn the language of Skaldi. The time might come soon when we will have to go back home and who knows what might happen out there.” He explains turning conversation far away from something romantic. “I also have chosen a guard to you. I very much trust the man. He has been serving for my family many years and I would like to trust your safety to him. He is Monsieur Delmore. I will introduce you to him once we will be back at the Basilisque residence. As well as I want to introduce you to two more people…”

Evelyne does not resist when Sebastien pulls her over to his side and closer against him. She shivers even a little, but that may be due to the chill. When he continues on an entirely different topic, she lifts her brows. “I thought we would leave sometime in the next weeks. After all, I am to presented to the people of Montmarlon, as your new wife. Want me to put that dagger to use? Improve my skill with blades?”, she jests with a slightly challenging glitter in her eyes. A nod then, to his announcement about the guard. “Monsieur Delmore.”, Evelyne repeats the name with a smile. Until Sebastien’s next words earn him a glance. “Members of your staff?”, she asks, melting a little more against him, her head touching lightly against his shoulder.

“As long as you will promise to use that dagger against your enemies and not me, then I might teach you!” Sebastien laughs. He also squirms a bit in his seat but only to get more comfortable. “And yes. Members of my staff. Members of your staff. I am afraid that you are going to cause some… you will express your displeasure at least about one of them. But I only hope that we will manage to negotiate it without a big fight!” The man laughs one more time. And the rest of a short journey he is pretty quiet. Though, when they arrive, vicomte leaves the carriage first that he could assist his wife afterwards and lead her to the warm home. When the door of the Basilisque residence is opened by a young and very handsome lad, Sebastien gestures for lady Evelyne to enter. “After you.”

“It would be poor manners to stab my own husband,” Evelyne jests, her eyes glinting brightly. Leaning just a little bit more against him, when Sebastien shifts in his seat. His remark gets her all curious. “Why do you say that? One member I will disapprove off? We haven’t even gotten as far as… to perform our duties as newlywed husband and wife, and you are already trying to scare me?” The carriage comes to a halt, and Evelyne leans away, ready to get out when Sebastien assists her. A soft rustle occurs in her revealing skirts, as her feet touch the ground, and the warm cloak is wrapped about her more tightly. But hey, what is this?

“Look who’s there?”, Evelyne greets the handsome lad at the door, tossing him even a wink. “Good eve. I believe I am the new Vicomtesse de Montmarlon…” She stumbles, perhaps a bit clumsy and tipsy from the wine she had, about to fall — so close to that handsome servant.

It will be not a servant but Sebastien who will place his hand gently on Evelyne’s shoulder in order to help her stay on her feet. Though, the young blond lad bows deeply to the lady, “Vicomtesse de Montmarlon, it’s a pleasure to meet you and… assist you whenever needed. You can call me Oliver, if m’lord approves.” He glances at the vicomte with a mild hesitation in his gaze, maybe a tad of fear or simply a respect. Sebastien nods and that brings a brighter smile into the servant’s features.

“The others are waiting for you in the main hall, m’lord and m’lady.” Oliver explains and gestures towards the general direction. Oliver then runs his hands across his hair and casts a bit more relaxed glance to Sebastien. A keen eye would notice a small shake of Sebastien’s head and would hear a sigh which leaves Oliver’s lips.

“Shall we proceed to the main hall, Evelyne? Or would you prefer going upstairs? Kitchen? Are you hungry? Thirsty?” The husband asks his wife.

“Oliver? Or Olivier?”, Evelyne asks the handsome blonde lad. Her eyes glitter as she looks him over. Either she doesn't notice the glance he gives Sebastien, or she doesn't care. “What others?”, she asks then, turning her gaze from Oliver to her husband and back again. “The other members of your staff?” Leaning casually against Sebastien for a moment. “The main hall… and then… we should withdraw, I suppose?”, the young woman muses, looking a touch bewildered perhaps that her husband suddenly seems to hesitant to continue in the inevitable course of tonight’s proceedings. “I believe I need some more wine… white wine, if you have?”

Sebastien looks at Oliver, “Did you hear that? Vicomtess desires to have some white wine.” The young lad immediately bows his head and rushes towards the kitchen while vicomte’s hand gently encourages Evelyne to move to the main hall.

When they both enter, two people immediately raise to their feet. The old woman sets a book down on the couch and her keen eyes land on the young vicomtesse. She studies her and then offers a curtsy. However, her mildly judgemental gaze does not withdraw and continues examining Evelyne. The older man simply bows his head, “M’lord and m’lady, Monsieur Delmore at your service.”

Then the husband looks at his wife and explains. “He is going to be your shadow making sure that no harm would come to you, Evelyne. And Madame Clémence here is to ensure that you… well…” The man stammers at the second part of the sentence. “She is your chaperone until we have my… our heir. To make sure that you… do not fall into your old habits. Madame Clémence was taking care of my and my brothers since we were babies.” He smiles at evelyne but takes a cautious step backwards. “These two people will be your daily companions on all of your adventures from now on.”

Both servants look at the lady. The guard offers her a smile while the woman adds, “And I will be responsible for teaching lady Evelyne of new languages, m’lord. You forgot to mention that.” Her voice is firm and quite strong considering her age. Sebastien nods in agreement to her statement.

<FS3> Evelyne rolls Composure: Success. (6 6 1 2 4 8)
<FS3> Evelyne rolls Politics: Good Success. (2 3 7 7 7 6 3)

Evelyne’s smile dims a little, not so much from seeing the crone and the ugly bodyguard, but rather from the explanations Sebastien elects to impart on her. That first glance she gives her husband when he is backing away from her, is indeed a glare. The smile that returns then to blossom on her features may not be as light, as she turns her gaze away from Sebastien, towards Madame Clémence and Monsieur Delmore. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, and I understand that long-term attachment to my husband’s family comes with certain…” She pauses, pondering her wording, “tasks that honor you as well as they honor us. I believe we shall get along nicely…” Even if the statement sounds a bit flat. “I look forward especially to the language lessons…” At which she steps forward to offer Clémence a smile — mostly ignoring the assessing glance the older woman gives her. Turning then towards the guard, she nods. “You look quite capable, Monsieur, and I believe I shall be quite safe in your company.”

Skirts move in a swirl as she turns to face Sebastien then, and Olivier who must be standing close by. “Can I assume that Madame Clémence has watched over your virtue as well? And that you have a similar chaperone now, to ensure that you don’t contract any diseases that might hamper the health of your wife and the future children we may have?”, Evelyne asks sweetly. “What makes you think, that I would jeopardize our match? That I wouldn’t honor what our families expect of us? You and I have come to an agreement, my lord.” Her lips curl faintly, “I have agreed to your terms, and so your additional precautions won’t affect the success of our plans, but possibly the happiness of this marriage.” With that part said, she gestures for the wine. “I need a drink.” Moving towards where she suspects the stairs to lead to the upper floor, Evelyne adds over her shoulder. “If Madame Clémence is to watch over my adventures, she could very well come along, just now. To watch a new heir being made…”

The trio stands completely quiet when the new vicomtess speaks and no men say a word when she finishes and moves to the upstairs bedroom. Sebastien just sends an apologetic glance at Madame Clémence and rushes off after his wife. He catches her up on the stairs and gently touches her arm, if allowed.

“Listen, let’s not be dramatic about it. I can swear to you that I will not spend any time with anyone in general… ever… but you… I have been married and…” He pauses. The words get stuck in his throat and his apologetic eyes change to a more grim ones. “Nevermind. I will just call everything off…” And he turns to go downstairs back to the main hall.

That touch to her arm would prompt Evelyne to stop on her way, with the scent of apples becoming very strong about her at the moment, for whatever reasons. Sebastien will be able to watch the magical nothingness of a wedding dress rise and fall with her chest as she breathes in and out, her blue eyes lifted and bright, meeting his gaze with a certain stubborn attitude of hurt pride. “Did you treat her the same…?”, comes her retort in a low murmur, before her brows jump upwards, and her steps take her along Sebastien as he seems to be heading back to the main hall. “What do you mean? Call everything off?” Evelyne’s hand reaches for Sebastien’s arm, as she tries to stop him or at least slow his progress. “Wait. Sebastien. What did you expect? How did you think I would react…?”

A line appears between her brows as she regards her husband, and that scent about her dims into fainter air. “Let us not call anything off. Not tonight.”, Evelyne tells him then. “Let us… get on with what everyone expects us to do. After that, we sleep and then we can discuss this matter in the morning, well rested, and probably less drunk than we are, right now.”

Sebastien stops and listens for his wife. His shoulders slumber down and he nods, “Yes. Alright. You are right.” He reaches for her hand and squeezes it gently if Evelyne allows. Then he takes a few steps forward and he would guide her into the bedroom, if she agrees. “Forgive me. But as you said, we should talk more about it in the… morning.” He opens the door of the bedroom and gestures for the young lady to go in. He would follow after her, and close the door.

The man would remain lingering at the door, though, watching Evelyne.

Evelyne does not pull her hand away. On the contrary, she watches his fingers wrap about hers. “Of course, I am,” she replies, lifting her gaze then to meet his dark eyes. Inhaling through her nose, when Sebastien steps closer, only to let air drift out again as he passes her to guide her over to his chambers. With her other hand still holding onto the carafe of white wine she steps into the room, far enough to move around in a slow turn, taking in the place that should tell her something about the man that lives and sleeps here. The carafe is set down onto the table, as the young bride begins to undress, unfastening the cords that keep the corsage in place, and then loosening straps of the skirts. There is no awkwardness at all, in the manner she discards her clothes, not even giving more thought to the pile of white lace and gauze piling at her feet as she steps out of the dress and saunters over to the bed, reclaiming the carafe on the way there.

Turning then as she pours herself a glass, she asks Sebastien, “Perhaps this would be the moment, where you should send for your handsome servant?”

The room is actually quite empty and very generic. There is a bed, a chair, a table, additional armchairs. Not that many decorations. A wardrobe for the man’s clothes and equipment such as his blade is standing on the other side than the bed. There are some pillows on the bed and the sheets are tidy of a dark color as all the rest of the room’s decor.

Sebastien watches how his wife unwraps herself from the white silks. His expression grows somber. “I apologize. I think that I ruined this evening for both of us. I promise to make it up for you. Later. Another time.” He moves towards the door where vicomte pauses. He turns back to Evelyne, “You are very beautiful and I hope we will become friends.” Then he opens the door, “I will bring him in.” He explains and leaves to get Oliver.

More than a few moments passes when the door opens again and Oliver steps in. He wears a charming wide smile when his eyes fall on lady Evelyne. The young man rubs the back of his head, “Am… M’lady, I was informed that you may require and entertainment?” He chuckles and moves to the side of the bed while his swift fingers unbutton the shirt. The servant is quick to drop it off baring his young but broad and muscular chest. His playful eyes already wander over Evelyne’s elegant curves.

Evelyne sits down on the bed, one lower arm resting on a thigh as she lifts her glass with the other to have a good sip of the white wine. Looking up to Sebastien then, she tilts her head a little, blonde hair spilling down over her shoulder, that snake jewelry still coiling about the base of her neck, the only thing she left on, in fact. And even if her brows lift as if silent agreement to Sebastien’s statement of having ruined the evening, she does not give any verbal reply. Shifting onto the bed instead, in a confident sideways sprawl upon the bed.

This bride does not come to the matrimonial bed a virgin, and it lends her confidence, and a matter-of-factness and a tolerance for possible disappointment. A soft sigh escapes Eve, when Sebastien leaves to get the servant, and yet, to see only the handsome blonde man return, elicits an expression of surprise in EVelyne’s features. “Oh… no… I mean…” Her eyes feast on Oliver as he begins to disrobe, and one cheeky finger cannot help but reach out and touch. “You are mistaken, Oliver. We didn’t send for you for my entertainment, but for that of my husband.” The information is offered along with a cheeky wink. “You know… I am bound now, not so much by oaths to Elua and Naamah, but to what I promised the Vicomte. I at least insist that he’d be here in the room to watch when you touch me… not that it will be required to complete the task.”

The young man chuckles. “M'lady, the vicomte is quite a… Unique person. If you forgive me, he is emotional. He was very clear that tonight I shall make you happy and he himself moved to another chamber. I guess you just have to get used to his mood changes, huh?” Oliver gives a wink and leans down that his face would be at a breath distance. “I did.”

Then the young man tries to steal a kiss from Evelyne's lips if she allows.


Evelyne pulls away at the last moment, even if the proximity of lips so close to her own seems to thrill her, as the increase in the scent of apples around her betrays. Shifting away from Oliver, to slip out of the bed on the other side, she sets the glass — already empty, by now — down on a side table. Glancing about the room she then walks towards the wardrobe.

“This… and Sebastien knows this, better than anyone, I am not allowed to do.”
She shoots Oliver a glance over her shoulder. Apologetic. Appreciative as she lets her gaze roam over him. “And I will not get used to mood changes, that threaten to jeopardize everything! For what? For him, to claim my infidelity? To have a road out of this match, by claiming that any child I bear, may have been conceived from another, on our wedding night???” Her voice, despite the slight anger of her words, remains smooth. Opening the wardrobe, she snatches one of Sebastien’s shirt from it.

“No. This will not do. I won’t accept this..”, she murmurs, as she puts on the shirt, that may be long enough to cover her body down to the upper part of her thighs.

“Oliver. I order you to bring me to him.”, she then purrs, turning to regard Oliver sweetly.

“Whether he wants me or not, I shall spend this wedding night with my husband.”

When the young vicomtess decides to show her mild rage, the servant grabs his shirt and puts it on. “Please,” he sighs. “My lord did not mean to blame you for infidelity. That would have never happened for I was supposed to make /you/ happy. I would have never even thought to go as far as to cause harm for your marriage. M'lady…” Oliver moves to stand between Evelyne and the door.

“My lord is a difficult person and he shall not be disturbed when he is upset. He… he has the past and might not yet be ready to share it with you. If you will go…” Oliver sighs. “I have been serving him for almost five years. I… I love him and I do not want to disappoint him. I fear he may fire me. You can wait, right?” He chuckles. “They say that the best sex is in the morning!” The young man gives a wink.

“If my husband trusts you far enough to send you for my enjoyment…”, Evelyne drawls, regarding Oliver as he buttons up his shirt again. “He won’t have you leave his service just for you simply obeying an order from his wife.” Even if her demeanor grows a bit thoughtful when Oliver explains. “I won’t pressure Sebastien to speak with me, or even… perform the duties that are supposed to be performed on a wedding night…” She sighs. “I just want to be in the same room with him. Lay and sleep beside him, as that is where my place is supposed to be…” She catches that wink though. “And who knows what will happen when we wake up together…?”

Oliver sighs and opens the door gesturing towards the room on the opposite side. “He is there, m'lady. But please, be kind to him and tell him that I tried hard to… do his task!” He sighs again and steps into the hallway to walk off.

The door on the opposite side is tightly shut and no voices come from behind.

<FS3> Evelyne rolls Stealth: Failure. (3 1 4)

Evelyne might have tried to open the door silently, but there it is, a loud creak as it swings open. Even so, the young bride steps into the chamber beyond, closing the door behind her. Glancing around then, for Sebastien. If the room is dark, she will try to adjust to the poor light coming in from outside, the moon and the stars. In case there is light, she will cross the distance to where her husband is, and regard him, her gaze somewhere between bewildered and concerned.

The room is indeed dimly lit. And this room might be the actual bedroom of a vicomte as it speaks way more about the man and his passions. While the main decor details are of a very dark brown, it just helps for the main painting above the fireplace to stand out. The piece of art depicts the beauty of a stormy sea. There is a large ship vivid in the misty and rainy visage. It is threatened by a very heavy dark wave.

There are some different little sculptures and strange pieces of things such as shells and remnants of broken things laid down on top of the fireplace. Every piece seems to come from a different culture.

There is also a large wardrobe but this one has quite precise carving details which seem to imitate thousands of snakes entwined together. The bed next to it is made of heave dark red wood. The bedsheets are laid down neatly and covered by more than a few pillows. A carpet of a bear furs lay beside to keep one's feet warm.

The man is sitting in an armchair which stands in front of a fireplace beside a small table. The wood is cracking in that fireplace and Sebastien's eyes remain glaring into flames. He is leaning by his elbows to his thighs and one of his hands holds a half-empty bottle of wine. Vicomte is shirtless but his silver snake pendant is dangling in the air.

The man does have a one long scar going across his back. It is not very vivid and not ugly enough to steal away some charm from his generally handsome looks. Sebastien does not turn back to glance at the person who entered. Instead, he takes a sip of wine.

<FS3> Evelyne rolls Composure: Success. (8 5 1 5 5 5)

His young bride pauses, looking around with attentive curious eyes. The ghost of a smile brightens her features as she slips closer, bare feet making light tapping sounds as they touch the floor.

She crosses the distance, leans over from where she stands, slightly to the side and behind of him. Evelyne’s lips brush against his temple. Then she steps away from him, to walk over to the bed and climb into it. WIth a soft sigh, she pulls the blanket over her frame, eyes closing.

It had been a taxing day, after all.

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