(1310-11-02) Chat at the Bakery
Summary: There is a life after the wedding feast! Evelyne Somerville de Basilisque encounters Yves Valliers at the bakery, and they engage in conversation about the Night Court, daggers and first assignations.
RL Date: November 2nd, 2018
Related: This and this.
evelyne yves 

Bakery — Market Promenade

L'Agnacites hold with the truism the expression of art through food is a holy calling, and such a shrine pays homage to the creative spark. Gourmands worship at a marble altar groaning under a sinful array of glistening pastries and thin cakes. Offerings stacked in neat rows behind glass gleam bright as a raj's jewels: ripe cranberries and pomegranate seeds under clear glaze, clouds of pearly cream, ruby strawberries and pale jade grapes. Pale gold custard tarts and honey-drenched buns sit next to delicate finger-cakes dusted in cocoa and curls of shaved chocolate. Fruits of the season laboriously contrived into visual illusions transform humble apples into ladies' purses with aid of crepes, or create the famed dome of Marsilikos from apricots and oranges.

Senses besieged from every direction find no relief. Colourful cream-filled macarons whet the visual appetite as the scent of fresh-baked breads stir out from the ovens from the pre-dawn hours until mid-afternoon. Seating is sparse, merely a few wooden benches to the front. The long, narrow shop is dominated by display cases and the odd bottle of fruit wine and sherry mounted upon a shelf for an afternoon aperitif. Plain white walls graced by sconces overflowing in seasonal flowers hardly detract from the baked goods for sale, and the narrow shopfront windows allow light to pour in.

A few days have passed. Days spent in new lodgings at the Basilisque residence. The time was needed to settle in, perhaps and get acquainted with her new life as wife to a vicomte. Nonetheless, it is wonderful to be out and about today, and Evelyne Somerville de Basilisque cherishes every moment of it. Attired in a fine dress of black, blue and silver, a warm cloak worn about it all, she steps into the bakery, merely in the company of a maid and a guard. Blonde hair has been done in some fashionable manner involving hairpins, and a smile appears on her features, when the young woman pauses for a moment. Eyes closing, just to take in that scent!

Coming in twenty seconds behind Evelyne is the young Yves Valliers. Wearing his usual sort of bland garments and the sword at his hip, like he expects to be called off to the line against the Skald at any moment. Not looking the least bit surprised he nods to Evelyne's bodyguard and then says, "Good day, Lady Evelyne," and smiles at her a little, blushing only a hint. His eyes wandering over the bakery he has found himself in, he remarks, "Oh, a um.. bakery?" and focuses on a few particulars he might avail himself to once he has finished speaking to the lady. Suddenly realizing how hungry he is.

<FS3> Evelyne rolls Perception: Good Success. (1 7 5 8 6 7)

Evelyne seems surprised when she turns to see who is entering. "Ah." She smiles, recognizing the young lad. "It's you, Lord Yves." Following his observation, the young woman lets her gaze wander pointedly about the place. "Yes. A bakery. Are you meaning to tell me, you had no idea what sort if place this is?" She lifts her brows, giving Yves a slightly amused look. "Or could it be, that you have been following me?" Noting his glance at some of the delicacies on display — and perhaps she may also have caught the rumble of an as of yet empty stomach — Evelyne has a heart. "I came here to have a bit of late breakfast. Also, I wanted to see Mademoiselle Audrialla and tell her how splendid a success the wedding cake was. Would you care to join me at one of the tables?"

"I um.. saw you come in here, I was walking that way," Yves explains, not looking too embarrassed by the fact that he'd deliberately sought to speak with her. Gesturing down along the avenue with an extension of his arm. He puts his hands in his jacket pockets then to keep them occupied and looks around a bit more when she does, listening to her intently. He glances toward one of the tables when she invites him and nods his head a few times, "Of course, sure," he says, and steps over that way, waiting for her to be seated before he sits, himself. "I liked the cake too," he mentions, and twists his mouth a bit as he looks around again.

"Companions. You admit that you have been following me?" Evelyne chuckles lightly, giving the guard an apologetic glance. "Lord Yves," she then addresses the same. "Feel free to sit down with me so that we can chat a little why we wait for some tea and bakery things to be brought." Her hand comes up in a gesture towards an attendant. "Some nice pastry rolls, sweet. Bring something, I trust it shall be delicious." Sitting down then, Evelyne adjusts her skirts a little, offering Yves a beaming smile. "Yes. The wedding cake was incredible. I am glad you could snatch yourself some, with the many guests there were. You left early though." She leans back, giving him a curious look. "Before Sebastien and I withdrew at about midnight, even."

"I.. um," Yves blinks a bit and wonders if his explanation was insufficient, looking suddenly distraught and blushing, he quickly explains, "I mean, I was walking that way," he gestures again, "Toward the smithy over that way. And um," he continues to stare, "I saw you, and followed you in, but I didn't like, you know, follow you," he goes on. Sitting opposite her, taking a moment to shift his sword so that it rests along the side of the armless chair. Turning it slightly so that the scabbard hangs off out of sight and toward the wall, out of the walking path. Looking then towards the help when they come, he nods at the lady's words, that sounded nice. Toward her then, he nods his head, "I found myself restless. I decided to, um, follow advice I've had mentioned repeatedly," he explains, and seems hesitant to mention more in polite company.

Evelyne's maid sits down a bit further away, but close enough as to overhear perhaps. A fact, the lady does not seem to be bothered about at all.

"I understand," Eve offers to Yves. "I was merely teasing." Orders are taken, and then the young woman turns her gaze upon Yves once again. "You followed…? Advice…?", Evelyne echoes his cryptic remark. "You mean you… went to the Night Court?" The assumption may be daring, but so is Evelyne. Folding her hands eagerly in her lap as she awaits the reply.

"Yes, I've not signed the, you know, contract yet, but soon," Yves explains, and glances at his lap a bit, wriggling his nose a little and blushing faintly from all that it implies. He seems not to notice the maid, or rather, is aware of her but makes no adjustment to what he says or talks about. Turning his head slightly to look towards the servant as they come with the previously requested rolls and all things delicious. Without waiting, it doesn't take long for Yves to start picking at his, hungry as he usually is. "I maybe should have talked to more of the um, courtesans, but the one I met was really nice, compared to the first one I'd met the other day, so I decided not to," he pauses, "Make excuses."

Evelyne leans forward a little, elbows coming to rest upon the table, even as the serving personnel returns with tea and a plate full of the requested bake rolls. "Oh, I see.", she smiles. "Which salons did you check out in pursuit of… that means to cure your restlessness?", she asks then, apparently very pleased with her subtle wording. "And which one would be this very possible choice of yours…?" Not that she is curious. She IS curious. Sometimes beyond her own good.

"Well, the first time I went, I went into the Rose house, and met with a um," he pauses to think, "A girl who wasn't so nice," he explains, and Evelyne can likely guess at the House responsible for a girl not so nice. "And then the second time, when I left the wedding, I went to the um, Glycine house?" he questions, as if not even sure he is using the correct wording. "And a very," he pauses to think of the words he wants to use, blushing furiously at the saying of it, "Very tempting woman threw herself at me, in a provocative manner, and was quite kind besides, and understanding of my desire to learn. Though I," he pauses in his rush to explain, blushing and reflecting on his words, "I think she was only really smitten when she managed to get a specific as to my assignation and how she might fulfill it."

"Someone at Rose Sauvage who wasn't nice?", Evelyne repeats with a smirk. "Sounds like you met a Thorn. Some like their impolite manner." She reaches for a bake roll to eat it. Her smile deepening when she hears where Yves went after the wedding feast. "A very good choice. The salon de la Glycine would be my favorite. The most fun, the most daring, and the most diverting…" She considers then nods again. "What flavor is this Glycine? The gambling sort? The cheeky sort? The passionate sort?"

"The um," Yves has to think about it, "The cheeky sort, I guess?" he says with that same sort of hesitation and picks up a roll, taking it in his fingers and pulling at it a little to take pieces off and chew on it slowly. Perhaps giving himself a chance to digest both his words and mull on things a little, rather than simply sharing as he is. She'd been one of the ones who'd recommended it, so she was early to find out. "Though she did have me gamble too, we started talking about wrestling, and that's when I told her what I'd want if I won, and that got her excited, and she said she'd want the same thing if she won," he explains softly, shyly so that nobody else can hear. Except perhaps the maid.

"Those are the best," Evelyne muses with a wink. "The cheeky sort. But lines blur sometimes at Glycine." She reaches for her cup of tea, lifting it. "Wrestling, now that sounds like a wonderful and intriguing topic. I can understand that must have gotten the both of you excited…" Her voice has dimmed down to a murmur, blue eyes lifting to study Yves for a moment. "Well. Then, I'd say… see that the contract is written and that the two of you can get to this 'wrestling' as soon as possible…"

If the maid hears anything, she doesn't show. Her gaze is directed to one of the windows as if she were in thoughts.

"The wrestling? No, I don't really find the idea of wrestling a courtesan that exciting," Yves explains, apparently assuming, and perhaps correctly at that, that the wrestling will be legitimate wrestling, and whatever might get grabbed or pressured is in no way erotic. In the same way that Yves wrestling his brother is not some sort of foreplay. It's just exertion. He could be wrong about the courtesan's intentions, however. "But it's the bet about what we did, afterward, that was exciting," he mentions, in case that was lost in his hurried explanation. His blush still there but fading as he gets a touch more comfortable.

"Oh. Well." Evelyne's brows lift pointedly at that, and her lips curl. Apparently, she knows a few other ways of 'wrestling' that are quite pleasurable. "The prize of the bet…", she drawls, leaning away, "I can very much imagine what that may be. But then again, it is what it is all about. Is it not?" She takes a tiny little sip from her cup of tea, then sets it back down onto the table. "The fact that you both got excited, merely imagining… it proves to me that you two probably will be a good fit." Nevermind his blush. It draws her attention though.

Taking another sip of the tea, and chewing a bit on the rolls, Yves nods his head slowly. "I don't know if you can imagine it, I was just, you know, throwing out an idea, and she liked it. I hadn't meant it to be so," he swallows audibly, "Alluring that she'd try to make a thing of it. Anyway, enough about me, how was your party from your perspective, did everything go off correctly?" he asks, looking for a distraction, and throwing out a line in the hopes she can pull him from the mire of his embarrassment.

"The wedding?" Evelyne leans a little away, giving him a smile. "The feast went well. I was surprised to see so many high ranking people attend. Ducal heirs, and the like. The bard was reasonably good, food and drink were fine, and staff was attentive, thanks to Her Grace. It may not be that often that a bride wishes the wedding feast to be a masque, but well… no one told me it is not possible."

"Why is it impossible?" Yves inquires, not aware that there'd been some sort of issue with the masque portion of it. He otherwise seems to comprehend the rest of her explanation and simply bobs his head a little, staring at her as she talks and then finally reaching for the food and drink again. Plucking at the rolls again, and eating it in small portions while he stares off into space for a moment before he looks back at Evelyne and blushes slightly for no apparent reason.

"The concept of wearing masks… it runs contrary to the purpose of a wedding, where people usually attend to be seen.", Evelyne clarifies her thoughts a little. "That a wedding feast comes with a concept — black and white, in our case. My dress… but Sebastien was the one who chose it for me… I am certain, we managed to become quite the talk for the weeks to come…." But there it is, a blushing and distracted Valliers, sitting across from her at the table. "Listen, Yves… The longer I see you blushing, the more certain I become that you should have this assignation with the Glycine. You have the coin, don't you?", she asks.

"They do? I came because you asked," Yves admits and suddenly realizes that not everyone thinks of Evelyne as a friend, but doesn't make a big deal out of it, just seems to digest the implications and various connotations there. Trying to learn about Marsilikos, or rather, culture outside of Camlach without needing to ask about every particular thing. "I'm not blushing," he says, and rubs at bit at the back of his neck, blushing perhaps a touch more. "I do," he answers.

"You do.", Evelyne confirms. "It is…" She bites her bottom lip, before she continues, "endearing. Keep that. And the ladies will swoon for you." For a moment, attention returns to the bake rolls. "I am glad you came, Yves. But you were invited, not so much as a friend, but as to represent your House of Valliers." The explanation comes in a matter of factly tone as Eve adopts a similar tactic to dissect her roll, to eat it, bit after delicious bit.

"It is?" Yves questions, looking at her wide eyed and a bit sheepish at the idea of anyone swooning for him. Stuffing his mouth with some torn off pieces of the breakfast pastries to distract him for a moment. "What do you mean about me needing to have my assignation, then?" he questions, feeling like the purpose of the assignation was to help him get over his shyness.

"Wasn't Roche there?" questions and realizes he'd only seen his sister in law for the most part, and had assumed his brother was loitering somewhere in the wings, as unseen as he usually is.

"To become more comfortable," Evelyne is quick to reply. "And also to start off your own little trail across the salons of Marsilikos. Of course… if you would explore too thoroughly, you'll lose that blush soon enough." The next question has her eyes go wide as she tries to recall whether or not Yves' brother had been there at the wedding. "I can't tell. I know Lady Jacqueline greeted me, but she is a d'Aiglemort, and your brother would count as d'Aiglemort as well. So. You were the Valliers there. "

The tall teenage boy doesn't dwell too much on his comfort or his trail across the salons, he has no such plans, and in fact, worries that dwelling on it will only cause him to feel awkward. "He does? Oh, well, that's," he pauses to think about it, "I didn't think of it like that. I'll have to tell my father to send an older sibling, soon," he tells Evelyne, this time with an impish little smirk at his attempt to get out of such responsibility in the future.

"Perhaps you should," the blonde teenage lady replies, sipping from her tea, blue eyes sparkling as they regard Yves over the rim of the cup. "Or… grow with the tasks, and take advantage of them. At least, this will enable you to make new contacts, and a lot of them," Evelyne muses. "I can imagine worse prospects."

Weighing them in his mind, Yves makes a bit of a face, but doesn't say anything more about it. He isn't one to flinch from his duties, but he'd never imagined his duties would be to make new contacts and become some sort of social butterfly. It's just not the way he was raised. "My," he pauses to think about whether to share, "My father did send me here with a similar purpose, to find a wife and learn the way of things, to impress the Duchess of Eisande perhaps. I just, you know, have no idea how to do that."

"How old are you?", Evelyne counters. "You are 16… far too young to be yet matched. I was sent here to learn refinement as well. As for how impress the Duchesse, well…" Her shoulders lift in a light shrug. "I can't tell. You could start with impressing her ladies-in-waiting, perhaps? Become part of social life in Marsilikos, and I am certain you will fit in just fine."

"How old do they usually do that sort of thing?" Yves inquires, thinking he was behind on this and now discovering that apparently it was normal not to be matched already. The rest of it, sort of just fills him with dread. More reasons to feel awkward and out of place, and to end up perplexed and mildly aroused and a thousand other problems that come with being a fish out of water. Taking the bread, he stares at it and then starts thinking of other things to talk about. "So, um, did you get anything fun for a gift?" he asks.

"You can't marry before your eighteenth natality," Evelyne explains to Yves. "But I suppose, you are to spend time at the Palace. Learning the ways of the court. Her Grace might take her under her wing, perhaps assigning one of her courtiers to you." Explaining that much to him, before his next question draws a chuckle from her lips. "Companions. The young heir to the Duchy of Somerville gifted me with a dagger. So that was fun, in a way. An odd present, in a way."

"So people don't even match before then usually?" Yves inquires out of curiosity and nods his head a bit more about the explanation about learning to manage the affairs of the court. He regrets bringing it up. Not because he doesn't like the information, or regrets talking to Evelyne, but now he feels like he has opened himself to conversation about this in the future, and he'd have tried to hard to avoid it, given a choice. "A dagger? How long?" he inquires, clearly enthusiastic about the prospect of seeing an implement of war.

"Well… it can't hurt to be present, to be considered, perhaps," Evelyne muses. Perhaps pondering to add a bit more, before she decides against it. ""Well. As you said. You are shy. You need to work on that. Why, you could even consider going to the Lis d'Or and find someone of Dahlia canon, to help you with courtly ways…"

A pause. Then a chuckle, before Evelyne puts the cup down to show Yves by holding her hands up in what appears to be medium size, for a dagger.

"Sorta small then. Did it have a maker's mark on it that you could see? Do you know who made it?" Yves asks, focusing mainly on the dagger because that's the most intriguing thing for him. Hearing about the Dahlia suggestion, he only blushes faintly at the idea of dealing with yet another courtesan and asks, "My assignation is supposed to be all of them, right? Maybe I can do that," he suggests.

"It was more a long term thing," Evelyne clarifies about her Lis d'Or suggestion. "As for your first assignation… stick to your Glycine." She tilts her head then. "As for… 'all of them'? I doubt you can afford that. You need to make a pick, and then maybe you can have a night of pleasure every few weeks. Courtesans are costly, but they are definitely worth it." But it becomes clear, Yves sort of embraces the topic of the dagger, and so Evelyne shakes her head with a soft sigh. "As if I could remember… I shall bring it along next time. That is…" Her brows wrinkle in a faint frown. "If you want to have a look at it, you should come and visit Sebastien and me, one of these days." The Camaeline residences are after all located quite close to each other in the noble district.

"Oh, I thought someone said I was supposed to visit all of them," Yves admits and blushes truly deeply now. He isn't certain about the cost involved, only knows that he'd been told it was something he needed to do and he was trying to rely on the advice of others in these things. "Of course, I can come by and look at it," he confirms. "Or you can bring it by our home, whatever you'd like," he suggests. "What did you do for your first um, assignation?" he asks, wondering if that's an acceptable thing to ask but asking anyway, and not blushing too much at the asking, but wandering to the topic conversationally.

There is a thoughtful look Evelyne gives Yves, before she shakes her head. "You should come by at our place," she decides. As for the first assignation, umm…" She bites her lip. "I won't tell you." A glance is shot towards her maid and then Evelyne finishes with her late breakfast, leaving enough for Yves to eat, should he still be hungry. "But maybe… one day, I will allow you to make a guess. One clue I can give you. It was on Mont Nuit in the Capital." The Night Court of Thirteen Houses in Elua. "Unfortunately, I need to go. My husband awaits me, and I told him, I wouldn't take that long. It has been nice talking to you, Yves. Good look in your endeavours, and I believe I shall see you soon."

The young man rises to his feet as Evelyne starts to make her exit and nods his head at all of her various points, and doesn't press further. "Of course, it was nice to see you as well, Evelyne," he replies and stands there with his chair for a moment or two before sitting back down to resume his meal. Eating the remaining food quickly and a bit less courteously, once she has gone. Filling the bottomless pit in his stomach.

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