(1311-05-04) And You Are?
Summary: Just a random meeting in Raziel's, from which Desarae makes an offer to be a sometime guide to Boniface.
RL Date: May 4th, 2019
Related: None
boniface desarae 

Raziel's Sanctum

Pedestrian traffic flows past the tall, multistorey temple to knowledge without ever daring to glimpse within. Their loss proves the academic community of Marsilikos' gain. Watery light passing through greenish tinted windows throws a distinctly sylvan enchantment over the narrow ground floor. Awash in jade shadows, the built-in bookcases heave with the treasures of the deep and wide world. Volumes mass-produced by printing press in d'Angeline dominate the front shelves, a wild assortment of topics contained within some obscure system of sorting known only to the regulars. Herbalism and gardening stand abreast of architectural sketches from the City of Elua and Kusheline manuals on horse breeds.%r%rA journey up the twisting stairs past the bric-a-brac acquired by years of travelers trading in their goods leads into the true heartland of wisdom. Candles set before stained glass throw rapturous kaleidoscopes of painted colour over a long hall. The open central aisle hosts low couches set back to back on woven Bhodistani rugs. The most treasured volumes — and hence, the most costly — occupy the floor-to-ceiling shelves overseen by the grumpiest of caretakers, an ill-tempered marmalade cat with his own stuffed chair that no one sits in.%r%rThe third floor holds a repository of maps and scrolls, aged texts too fragile to hold, and a bookbinding and mending service at a cost.

It's late afternoon, and it's a typical spring day in Marsilikos. There's been a scattering of light showers throughout the day that have interspersed the breaks in clouds when the sun has shone through. It's enough that the fair citizens of the city have believed they might begin to cast aside their heavier clothes and look forward to the warmer months that the summer will inevitably bring. One such citizen who's transitioned to her summer wardrobe would be the dark-haired girl that's sitting on the bottom-most step of a ladder that's angled against the floor to ceiling bookshelves so the topmost ones might be reached, her smoke-grey chiffons settled like a billowing cloud about her feet. An open book is held balanced within the curve of one hand, and watching over her in stoic silence is a tall, grey-garbed Cassiline of around thirty years or so. Raziel himself is nowhere to be seen, though his marmalade cat whom rules with an iron paw over the bookshop sits a step or two above the head of the dark-haired girl, looking to all intents and purposes as if he's reading over her shoulder.

Typical spring days are perfect for exploring- and so enters a young man- still dressed in his traveling clothes. One gets the impression, from the curious, somewhat wide-eyed expression he wears, that this is his first time in this shop- and there is much to be curious about. Almost at once, he starts peering at the bookshelves, running a finger along a spine here, pausing to read a title there- he's captivated that he doesn't notice the ladder, the young woman perched upon it or her watchful Cassiline guard until he nearly bumps into the latter. "Oh, pardon. My apologies."

<FS3> Desarae rolls Composure: Great Success. (1 8 3 7 1 4 7 6 3 7)
<FS3> Desarae rolls Politics: Good Success. (1 5 8 7 4 4 1 3 7)

Desarae looks up from her book, and she appears to be completely unruffled by the almost-but-not-quite collision. "Apology accepted, my lord." she says pleasantly. "I know how easy it can be to become so lost within yourself that little else around you seems of much consequence." She looks to be in her mid-to-late teens, and she wears her dark hair loose, though secured back from the edges of her finely-boned face by exquisitely-wrought silver combs. She has the warm complexion that's the hallmark of Mereliot family, and it'd be obvious to anyone familiar with that particular trait of theirs that she must carry that name. A tilt of her head is given to one side, and bright intelligent eyes fasten upon his. "I don't believe that I've seen you at court, or even socially at any of the events in the city. Could it be that you have only just arrived?"

If Boniface makes the connection between the young lady's complexion and her lineage, he hides it behind a magnificent poker face - but more likely he's ignorant of it. He's not much older than she is and as she rightly points out - he's not been around the Eisandine court. "Thank you," he bubbles happily, once it's clear he hasn't given offense. While he might not know who her family is quite yet - the presence of a Cassiline Brother is enough to put him on what passes for his best behavior. "Guilty as charged, my lady. Just got here yesterday."

"You're fortunate," Desarae notes with a smile, "because the city is currently celebrating the Days of the Companions. However, you're also similarly unfortunate, for you've missed a good half of them already." The smallest wrinkle of her nose is given, and her voice lowers to near conspiratorial levels. "And that includes the horse races. You've missed those too. I, however, took part in those." She clears her throat and straightens her back and shoulders, her chin lifting as she closes her book with a snap. It's enough to disturb the ginger cat where it sits, and a retaliatory paw is lifted to swipe at the top of Desarae's head to the accompaniment of a more than little annoyed hiss. (That is to say, the cat hisses, not Desarae.)

"I.. I.. missed the horse races?" Boniface doesn't even bother to hide the disappointment, nay, anguish in his voice at such awful news, "I mean, I didn't even know there were to be any races, but this is a tragedy!" With an exaggerated sigh, he glances at the disturbed cat, before throwing a hand up in defeat. "How did you do, my lady? Did you win?"

"I did not." Desarae smiles. "Officially, I came last." A small roll of her eyes given with that admittance. "And not just in the race I was in, but across all the races that were run on that day. But in a way, it does feel like I won." She pushes to her feet, unwilling to allow the cat a further chance to swipe at her head, her hand lifting to smooth her hair in case it's been ruffled. "I didn't fall off, you see," she goes on to explain. "So that's a victory of sorts, wouldn't you say?" Her eyes drop to the book in her hands, and she pauses before she speaks again. "I think that I'll buy this since the author is new to me and her writing is so expressive. I can picture everything that she is attempting to convey. I'm Desarae, by the way. And you are?"

Its hard to fake anguish for any length of time when one's conversing partner seems to be in such a cheery mood.. and so Boniface stops, reverting to his normal sunny dispostion. "Yes. Any ride that ends with the rider still mounted is a victorious one," he offers in agreement, his eyes following her gaze down to her book, before he glances back up just in time for introductions. "Boniface," he offers, following the lady's lead and sticking to first names.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Boniface," Desarae says, and summons one of the clerks across whilst they talk so that the book might be given with instructions to have it wrapped. And now she's nothing to do with her hands, except to clasp them loosely one in the other. "You are visiting relatives here? Or are you simply pausing upon your travels to explore the beauty of our city? No wait, I think that you are to take a ship and sail south in order to study in Tiberium." So many possibilities to explore, and she probes mercilessly in an effort to extract a few details.

"Sort of. No. Nope," Boniface rattles off answers to her questions, before laughing - perhaps amused at the thought of him in a scholar's robes, "While the city is beautiful and I am really looking forward to exploring and uncovering what she has to offer, I'm here because.. well, as much as I'd like to I can't outrace my -" another exagerated sigh of exsperation - "responsiblities any longer. Now that I'm 'of age', I've come to court to relieve my mother of her burden of serving as my regent." He doesn't sound exactly thrilled at the prospect.

<FS3> Desarae rolls Politics: Success. (3 8 6 4 5 6 3 2 2)

"Oh…" Were a person to study Desarae's face in that moment, they'd be able to see the the processing of the new information, and the revelation of who Boniface drops clickety-click into place. "Then you must be… the new Vicomte d'Orange?" Clear green eyes dig into his. "I expect that I'll be seeing quite a lot of you in court then, since I'm often a presence there myself. I'm one of Her Grace's nieces." Her voice tails off, and a breath is exhaled through her lips. "Do you feel ready to take on the duties of your father's title? It must be quite scary to be suddenly so burdened."

Oh, does Boniface look impressed that she's puzzled out who he is! He grins brightly when she has him pegged, blue eyes meeting her gaze. "Yes, that's me," he says, before offering a bow now that he's finally put two and two together and figured out her family (Okay, not really - she pretty much told him!) "Oh?" he adds when she mentions her own presence at court, "Than perhaps this won't be as dreadful as I thought." Her further question dampens his spirits.. just a little - just enough for him to grow serious. "Is anyone really ready? I wouldn't say it's.. scary - I've known that I'd eventually have to carry my father's responsbilities. They've at least tried to prepare me for it. We'll see if took."

"I'll officially reach my own majority next year," Desarae quietly admits. "It'll be my seventeenth natality next month, and I have a regent whom currently looks after my affairs. I wasn't meant to inherit however, so I feel ill-prepared for the duties despite the extra lessons and tutoring that my aunt has arranged for me. I think, perhaps, that I will continue to keep my cousin in place to assist me, a task that I'm sure he'll be happy to fulfill." Her words drift off, and the book that she'd asked to be wrapped, is returned to her hands. "But no. No it won't be dreadful, and I'm sure that you will settle quickly. Best of all you'll get to see the city in the summer, when it's at its best. I'd be happy to show you around a little, should you find yourself at a loose end and with time on your hands." A smile tugs her lips. "But I have to go for now. It was good to meet you Lord Baphinol."

To Boniface's credit, he manages to maintain his serious air for a moment or two longer while she expresses her own concerns. "A challenge to be met, my lady," he says with a nod, before once more smiling as talk turns to summer and tours. "I would be honored! And perhaps we might go riding some time, since you're already a victorous horse racer!" And as she makes her goodbyes, he dips his head, "The pleasure was mine, Lady Mereliot."

"Mine too," Desarae's quick to reply. Her Cassiline steps forward now that she's leaving, and with a quick nod of her head in deference to Boniface and the title he holds, she turns from him and heads for the door — along with the rest of her day.

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