(1311-05-17) Gooseberry
Summary: Philomène, calling upon her betrothed young friends Drake and Rajiya, naturally acts as gooseberry.
RL Date: 17/05/2019
Related: Previous scenes with these characters.
drake philomene rajiya 

Drake’s Lair — Rousse Residence

The main room is dominated by a large fireplace on the left side. Two heavy leather chairs stand in front of it, a small table between them. A rectangular table, a chair on each side, and perfectly suited to games of cards and dice stands nearby. The only other piece of furniture is a large chaiselonge, upholstered in blood-red velvet. The stone walls are covered in matching red velvet draperies in which finely spun golden threads form shapes of dragons. A large painting shows a glorious battlefield scene. The room is illuminated by a chandelier hanging above and several candles casting a warm glow.

A door opposite the fireplace leads through to another room dominated by a large four-poster bed, with golden-red drapes above and on the sides. The covers are blood-red, hiding several pillows and sheets. There is little else to see in the room except a large chest for clothes storage and a chair on which a bunch of clothes have been carelessly thrown. Someone has fastened some drawings of nudie women to the wall Near the window stands a large tub meant for bathing.

Another lovely day in Marsilikos. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the flowers are blooming, and for once in her damn life Philomène de Chalasse shows up on the Rousse doorstep with a smile on her face and a leather wrapped bundle of papers tucked under her arm. Never one to stand on ceremony around here, she doesn't wait for an announcement but just pushes her way in and up to Drake's rooms, the distinctive clomp drag of her limp announcing her as well as any servant.

"Still malingering?" the old bat asks, already on her way to the curtains to throw them open and let in both light and air. Hopefully he's also suffering from a hangover. She's vindictive that way.

Drake is NOT malingering. He's semi dressed. The reason being that there's a flouncy young man fussing around him, tugging at cloth, taking measurements and so on. Not that Philo hasn't seem him pantsless before. So he just gives her a little wave with his hand, while otherwise standing immobile. The tailor is armed with pins after all. "Leave those closed, the neighbourhood doesn't need to see this!", he warns when Philo makes for the curtains.

From across and down the hall, Rajiya exits the suite that once belonged to Drake's sister, the one the pair will be moving into once the wedding is done, along with another. A servant with whom she is talking about the furniture that will be arriving soon from the warehouse near the docks, "Yes, those chairs and that table.. the sofa, and the drapes… if you could have them all removed.." Hearing the conversation, she nods to the servant, and pushes open the door to peek within, "See what?" And then she blinks at what she spies.

"I'm sure the neighbourhood aren't equipped with the magnifying lenses necessary to see anything that would shock them," Philomène retorts goodnaturedly, although she does relent and only twitch the curtains a little to allow a beam of light into the room. "I swear you wander around half dressed more than you wear clothing these days. A woman could start thinking you fancy her. Your highness, how are you?" she adds to Rajiya, granting the princess an easy smile.

"I did not expect you, so any half-dressing that occurs is entirely for her benefit.", Drake points out with a grin for Rajiya, when she enters the room. When he half-turns to the women, the tailor groans. "Please stand still, Mylord. We shall be done in a moment.", he promises.

Rajiya chuckles softly, stepping further into the suite so she might close the door. No need for anyone else to be peeking in, right? Dipping her head to Philomène, she gives the older woman a smile, "A good day to you. It has bene a while. I hope things are well with you?" Glancing back to Drake when the tailor complains, she murmurs, "You better listen to him, Drake. Otherwise, he'll just stick you somewhere's unpleasant in accident." Surely she's just teasing!

Philomène retrieves the papers from under her arm, pointing the roll in the vague direction of first Rajiya and then Drake, so they might both be equally as enthused. "I am just about bloody delighted," she cheerfully admits. This might of course be because Drake is about to be stabbed in the nether regions with a pin. But it might just be something to do with the papers as she begins to untie and unroll the worn leather casing. "All our little piglets are fattening up now, and if these figures are right then we're in for a fucking good year. Gueret bacon should be on some of the finest tables in the country." She pauses, beaming at the pair of them.

"I bet he won't stick as painfully as the Lady Jaide did.", Drake grumbles, looking down his front, where only the most hypochondriac eye will still discern some shades of yellow. He eyes Philomène and the leather case with a slight frown. "And you have come all the way here to inform us of this incredibly exciting fact?", he asks, "Remind us when we bought stocks in Gueret bacon. Also, have -you- met the Lady Jaide already? She's a battle axe from Camlach, just like you."

Rajiya listens as Philomène tells them all just what has her so happy. "Oh, and here I had thought that perhaps you had found a good suitor for your daughter." Trust the princess to think of match-making again! There's a brow lifted upwards when Drake speaks of the Lady Jaide again, her gaze likely looking over the bruising that remains upon his skin. To Philomène, she does say, "I have yet to meet her, but as often as he speaks of her… I'm beginning to think that perhaps I should do some training with Chetana so I might hit him over the head myself."

"I've never met her, but if she's from Camlach," Philomène informs Rajiya with a somewhat amused smile, "then you'd have best started training about ten years ago if you want the same sort of effect. Not, of course, that I'm objecting to the idea of walloping him about the head every now and then. Seems eminently sensible." She rolls up her papers as she speaks, rolling her eyes when somehow, somehow nobody else seems as thrilled by a long ledger of figures as she is. "Look, a good set of fat little piglets and a ready market for the little buggers means all debts can be paid, and maybe even a bit of spending money for something nice for Laurene for the summer."

"I mentioned that baron to you.", Drake reminds Rajiya with a smile, "Something for young Laurene perhaps? He comes with a Barony, she comes with… piglets? Sounds like a happy future.", he grins and starts moving again until the tailor does stick a pin into his backside that makes him squeak.

Rajiya hmms, then shrugs, "Perhaps. Chetana has shown me a little along the years." That said, she smiles sweetly, to both as she murmurs, "I'll just rely on being sneaky, and surprise him with the smack instead of coming straight on for him." That should work. Mention of the lord, and the possible match that might be made has her ohing, "There is that. You will have to introduce me to him then, dear. Perhaps we could deliver the invitation in person or something.."

"Which baron?" Philomène is keen to ask, perching herself on the windowsill and setting the roll of papers down beside her so she has both hands free to begin absently massaging her thigh. "What land? What family? What do they produce?"

Drake uuuughs pointedly when Philomène starts throwing questions at her. "I don't know, do I? I met his brother at the temple baths, he was there with the Lady Helene. Chap's name is Vincens. His brother is the Baron de Vauvert. And it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife, right? So I suggested to my dear princess here, that if she wants to be a matchmaker in Marsilikos, he may be a good one to start with. But the details, I'll leave to you all." "Your arms, Mylord.", the tailor asks politely and Drake stretches them sideways and upwards like a flight attendant giving directions to the emergency exits, while the man takes measurements.

"Vauvert… I don't know it, but I'll look into it," Philomène allows, brow furrowing for once not in anger but in contemplation. "Or maybe I'll try to be surprised when you announce it, your highness, in front of the fellow and sing Laurene's praises." Her eyes narrow for a moment. "You will sing Laurene's praises, won't you?"

Drake stays out of that one. He hasn't really met Laurene. Because reasons. He heaves a sigh of relief when the fussy tailor finally steps back and writes some additional notes down. "Thank you, Mylord, I believe that is all for now. I will return for the first fitting as soon as possible.", he promises and starts gathering his things. Drake shakes his limbs loose and goes in search of pants. "Well, how about some wine, now that I may finally move?"

"How about some breeches," Philomène counters drily. "I don't think even wine is enough to make up for having to stare at your knobbly knees. Do you have any tea, and before you say anything yes, I'm still off the wine, and yes, I'm still drinking tea, and yes, she's a fucking quack but if it works I'll take it."

Rajiya looks from one to the other, and says lightly, "I would, but I have yet to meet your daughter myself. I cannot exactly sing her praises if I haven't, hmm?" She would not be one to lie to anyone about anyone! As the tailor announces that he is done and leaves, she smiles, chuckling, "I would agree with Lady Philomène in perhaps seeking some pants first?" To the last, she glances to Phil, "Drinking tea?" She isn't sure what she means by all that. Someone's been tied up with wedding preparations, and tying up ambassadorial duties lately.

Drake rolls his eyes at Philomène. What about? Everything, probably. He does grab a pair of loose-fitting black breeches from a chair to put on and hide the offending knees from sight. "It's your loss, my dear lady.", he just smirks at Philo and since he's walking the tailor out into the hallway, seizes the moment to send a servant for tea and wine. "She believes that abstaining from wine will cure her wonky leg.", he then explains for Rajiya's benefit. "How this is even connected? Nobody knows, but apparently 'the quack said so' is reason enough.", he shrugs with a little grin.

"Oh, fuck off," Philomène insists with an easy grin. "I'm under no illusion that drinking a glass of wine is going to cripple me, but tell me I'm not walking better these past few weeks, eh?"

"Who is this.. quack?" Rajiya would ask, but sounds of the servants in the hallway heading for the other suite, gains her attention, "I.. need to go see that they get everything.. if you will excuse me? I will return soon." And then she's out, heading for the other room, likely coming up with a few more things for the servants to remove.

"You are. And you might be slightly less cranky than before.", Drake acknowledges and lets Philo explain the mysterious quack to Rajiya. He sighs when his princess bustles off again and sinks into a comfy chair. "I let her overhaul our future chambers.", he explains to Philo.

"Some sadistic bitch who used to be a Mandrake and now moonlights as a chirurgeon," Philomène explains, rolling her eyes. "And I'm not cranky, you're just a… git."

Drake chuckles softly. "A git, am I now? You spend an awful lot of time around someone who's a git.", he grins. "I'm quite pleased with my cousin Aimée's work, she patched me up well after the duels. Perhaps you should ask her for a second opinion?" The servant arrives, bearing a teapot and cup for the visitor and a glass of wine for the young Lord. Who sighs, once he is alone with the old bat. "So, the date is drawing nearer. The whole bunch from Bodhistan is inbound."

Philomène arches a sympathetic brow. "Well, if you need somewhere to escape you know where I live," she offers casually, nodding thanks as she accepts the cup and cradles it in both hands as she waits for the tea to brew. "When are they due to arrive?"

"A week or so from now.", Drake replies and smirks. "Yea will not be living here. Apparently they're staying at the Ducal Palace, what with Rajiya's father some mighty ruler of equal rank and all of that. Besides, I told her that we need the rooms here to accommodate the Rousse lot from Draguignan and Roussillon. But thank you all the time, I will take generous advantage of the offer." Naturally. "Perhaps I'll get to meet your wondrous quack then."

"Fat chance, I wouldn't let her darken my doorstep," Philomène announces flatly. "She's my chirurgeon, not my friend."

Drake arches a brow. "Where do you meet her then?", he wonders and sighs. "Ah, I know you don't like to talk about her. Well, let's talk about other things then… about your favourite horse, if we must.", he tries to accommodate his guest.

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