(1311-02-21) Baiting a Butterfly
Summary: Sebastien speaks with Evelyne about his brother Oliver and asks for her help.
RL Date: 21/02/2019
Related: This
evelyne sebastien 

Basilisque Residence — Marsilikos


Almost four months it has been since the wedding, and many would have expected the young wife of the Vicomte to show first signs of pregnancy by now. But Évelyne Somerville de Basilisque is as slender and comely as she has ever been, even if perhaps a tiny touch less playful and daring in her attitude and bearing. Clad in a dress of black and blue that pronounces her slender waist, and with her blonde hair done up in a fashionable manner, the young vicomtesse can be found in the parlor of the Basilisque Residence on this late morning. Sitting in one of the comfortable chairs by the hearth, with an open book held loosely in her lap, she seems about to drift off, yawning sleepily.

“You should go to bed if you are tired, my dear,” A voice of Vicomte comes from behind. Sebastien moves closer to his wife and leans in to place a peck on her forehead if she will allow. “I hope you are feeling alright?” He moves around to take a seat beside his wife. The man is wearing his usual black leather attire and black shirt. He seems to have lost his usually a bit more carefree and cheerful demeanor. He does not even take a glance at the servant who remains seated on the other end of the parlor, waiting if any of the pair will be in the need of his assistance.

“Tired?” Evelyne straightens at once, shaking her head as if to get rid of all that sleepiness. It is funny, even that faint protest comes always out in a yawn. A yawn she barely manages to stifle, lifting her hand to cover her mouth. “No. I am not tired,” she states stubbornly, shifting her gaze to regard her husband. “I mean…” A faint smile touches her features, the ghost of a blush even. “I am not sure.” And there, as if she were about to spill some more news to him, Évelyne’s demeanor alights. Teeth capturing her lower lip as she pauses, pondering.

This is when she notes Sébastien’s somber expression. “I am feeling alright. Why? Why do you ask? Is something the matter? You look…”, and here she leans in to lock her gaze more closely with his. “You look terrible, Sébastien. Worried. You don’t have to worry about me. I hope you know that?”

“I know,” The man sighs and turns his gaze to the fireplace where the flames are playing with each other. “It’s about my brother Oliver. He is three times more slim than you are right now. It seems that while we were away, he managed to get himself into even more troubles. He has spent weeks not leaving his room and barely eating. I found him trying to kill himself, can you imagine that?” He looks at Evelyne. His eyebrows frown. “He was sitting in bare shirt in front of an open window. Half of his room was buried under the pillows of snow!” His fingers curls up into fists to hold out his anger. “He was freezing. Then he started to cry and I could barely convince him to speak to me.”

The man looks away again. This time he stares at his own lap considering the current situation.

“Oliver?”

Évelyne frowns a little herself, mirroring her husband’s expression. “It sounds like he is very unhappy.” Empathy may not be her strong suit, and yet she leans in a little and wraps her arms about Sébastien’s shoulders in a comforting hug. “I am certain you asked him why? I can’t say I know Oliver that well. But you are his brother. You should know what is the matter with him?”

“Well…” Sebastien twitches a little bit settling in more comfortably in Evelyne’s supportive touch. “He has been suffering from an addiction to opium. I have tried to take this situation into my own hands. Though, Anse said that I am being too harsh. He requested that I would leave my brother’s health in his capable hands. I am not sure if that was a fruit of Anse’s effort or Oliver’s will but he confirmed to me of lowering the dose of opium per week. This is great news but also might be the reason of his sudden depression.”

Sebastien bites his lower lip and chews on it while thinking. “He also said that he fell in love twice and both times he has been rejected. He feels as if he is a nobody and that he will never be loved because he is blind. I tried to explain to him that no member of house Basilisque is a nobody! If someone dares to call my brother a nobody, I will slice the throat of that man or be it a woman!” Sebastien slams his fist into another hand’s palm.

“Hmmm.”, Évelyne makes thoughtfully, resting her head lightly against that of Sébastien. “He is very young, isn’t he? And already that addicted? I mean…” Some of her old lively self comes to the surface as she leans away and gives Sébastien a slightly mischievous look. “I’ve been addicted as well. To the Night Court. And truth be told, you are forcing me to abstain, which occasionally makes me quite wroth at you. It doesn't make me depressed, however.” It is a light jest, offered with a faint tease.

“Your brother sounds awfully much to be very depressed. Why would he wish to fall in love? He should go to Le Coquelicot and find plenty of love there. Perhaps this is the key. To find someone who can spend time with him. Let us contract a companion for him. And he should be fine.”, she suggests, in the honest attempt at offering counsel.

“Opium is different than the night court!” Sebastien protests frowning at Evelyne now. But then his features soften a bit since he knows she is only trying to help. “He did not have the best experience with the Night Court. It seems that he did receive a contract but the courtesan is a bit too busy to please him to Oliver’s liking. They can barely meet.” Sebastien looks at his servant. “Don’t sit there. Bring us some wine.” The boy immediately jumps to his feet and rushes from the room while the husband focuses back on his wife.

“Oliver has a very sensitive heart. He doesn’t want to love many. He even expressed his concern that nobody will want to marry him. I guess he is also worried about his eighteenth spring which is so close. Though,” Sebastien rubs lightly the tip of his ear. “I was depressed as well back in my youth. What I learned was that depression usually comes when one has nothing to do. I had too much of a free time on my hands. So, then you just sit around and think how miserable you are.”

He looks straight into Evelyne’s eyes. “You are a very cheerful little butterfly. You will keep my brother occupied. I guess, that will teach you some additional responsibilities which will be of use when you will be a mother. That also will help my brother to be busy. He will be your companion and you will be his. We will start with you teaching him of Skaldi language. Then you should also take him to the Night Court. You have plenty of connections. Introduce him to interesting people. Though, make sure that he wouldn’t indulge into opium. Wine is alright but also not too much. He has a very addictive personality.”

Sebastien nods slowly, making a pause and studying if his wife is following him.

“My own eighteenth birthday was a little more than four months ago,” Évelyne counters, “I was hoping to be free from any commitments for at least five more years, and now look at me.” She chuckles. “What an interesting romantic notion it is to suspect that marriage and love have an actual connection.” A wink there, she tosses Sébastien’s way. “You and I know better. It’s all about duties and heirs…” At which she takes Sébastien’s hand and places it on her lower abdomen, covered by many layers of fabric. Even that gesture could be a playful tease, without deeper meaning. That sparkle of her eyes dims a little, when Sébastien points out to her what he wishes her to do.

“You want me to look after him?”, Évelyne bursts out, almost in protest. “To be his nanny, his…” She pauses, “boring language tutor?” A line appears between her brows, but it fades as soon as Sébastien mentions the Night Court.

“Ah… I see. Very tricky. And very cruel! While denying me the pleasures of the Night Court, you wish of me to use my connections to help distract your brother from his current depressions?” This seems to amuse Évelyne, and she chuckles. “I can see what I can do,” she tells Sébastien then, leaning in again, as her fingers dance upon his collar. “But are you sure, Oliver will accept me and my help? I am a stranger to him. And he may have more issue with this fact than I do.”

Sebastien looks down at his hand when Evelyne places it on her lower abdomen. “My dear, it’s all up to you if you are going to be a boring language tutor, or the language tutor everybody will be jealous of. It’s up to you to decide if you want to be his nanny or you want to become a friend of your brother-in-law. I would hope that you would try to become his friend. And…” He frowns a bit. Then smiles with a light mischief.

“Help my brother to come over his depression by showing how joyful a life can be, and you can enjoy the Night Court the way you desire. Oliver means everything to me, Evelyne. I need him back. I need him happy and self-confident. I need him to know that life is colorful and I do not know a better person than you who could do so.”

“I… will be allowed to enjoy the Night Court?”, Évelyne asks incredulously, lifting her brows. “Now. That shall be enough motivation for me, Sébastien. Especially, since the Longest Night proved to be so fruitful and pleasant.” She leans forward against the Vicomte de Montmarlon, resting her head against his shoulder, as her blue-eyed gaze turns a bit thoughtful. “I will see what I can do. I can take Oliver to the tailor’s place, and have a few nice outfits made for him. I can try to offer diversion, and maybe help find him some friends. And…” Here she lifts her gaze to look into Sébastien’s eyes, “maybe I can teach him some of the Skaldi I learned.”

“Very well,” Sebastien smiles and leans in to place a kiss on Evelyne’s lips if she allows. One and brief chaste peck in his gratitude. “And now where the hell is this boy?! Our wine did have to arrive by now!” He shakes his head and pushes himself up. “I am going to go and try find him. I will need at least a bottle. Will you join me in our bedroom? You seemed to be tired…” He smiles.

Too brief is the kiss for Évelyne to turn it into something less chaste. It shows in the faint disappointment in her eyes when Sébastien leans away again and moves to stand. “Ah well. I’m not sure you should have wine at this hour of the day,” she teases, moving to stand as well and in doing so, she deposits the book she had held on the side table. “You are giving me funny thoughts. But who am I to reject such a tempting offer. Of course. I feel tired. A little ‘nap’ could prove most refreshing.”, she agrees sweetly with the tiniest of winks tossed Sébastien’s way.

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