(1311-05-28) Discussions in the Rose Sauvage
Summary: Cousins, Friends, and Strangers have discussions in the Rose Sauvage. WARNING: Adult themes and language.
RL Date: 28/05/1311 - 29/05/1311
Related: None
clara lillian odette yves 

La Rose Sauvage

A huge hearth of black marble, with gargoyles of stone adorning the mantlepiece, governs the foyer of the Salon de la Rose Sauvage, which emanates a certain dark air, the interior design of the more heavy sort, that could easily be encountered in a gentleman's club, especially with the dark cherry wood wainscoting used on the walls. Dark leather upholstery is predominant in the furniture of chaise longues, couches and long-backed chairs that are arranged in a half-circle, leaving space in the center for courtesans (or patrons) to kneel for an inspection. Three tall windows with circular stained-glass insets are framed by dark red curtains of heavy brocade, a few golden threads worked into the fabric catching occasionally the light of flickering oil lamps at the walls. The lamps light a pair of portrait paintings, of the two founders of the salon, Edouard Shahrizai and his cousin Annabelle no Mandrake, resplendent in their dark Kusheline appeal; and a cabinet in a corner, holding a number of quality wines and a flagon of uisghe.

The foyer has a high ceiling, and a gallery beyond a balustrade of dark teak wood, carved in the shapes of gargoyles. Sometimes a few veiled creatures can be spotted up there, stealing glances at what is going on below; from the gallery, which can be reached by ascending some winding stairs at the back of the foyer. Beside the stairs leading up is a hallway on ground level, leading further into the building to where the offices of the leader of the salon and his two Seconds can be found, along with the two wings of private quarters for roses of Mandrake and Valerian canon.

When looking out of the windows, you see: It is a spring evening. The weather is cool and overcast.


Later on in the evening, the Salon tends to get a little bit quieter. Those who are going to find some fun have, and the rest are left to the other duties of the house. This evening Clara is sitting on a leather couch, her bare feet propped up on one arm, while she casually knits a blanket and chats with a group of novices and adepts.

With how late it is, Lillian's happy to be a bit more casual than usual. Which in this case involves pitter-pattering with bare feet down the stairs, dress held up with both hands so she can move faster. The novice makes a b-line right for Clara, giggling with joy before she even reaches the redhead. "Clara! It's this Friday! /This Friday!/" laughing again and getting right up by her, plopping down on a kneeling cushion besides the seated courtesan, eyes beaming even brighter than usual. For a novice to be this excited about something, there's probably only one 'event' she could be talking about.

Coming around looking for his cousin since he'd last seen her sometime prior, Yves is wearing wool in red and white, but given the cool weather outside it perhaps wasn't an unusual amount of layering. His eyes a touch downcast, and bearing a blush on his cheeks he finds himself directed towards Clara has gathered with her fellow novices and adepts and walks that way a touch unsure of himself. He's not accustomed to visiting anyone in the salons, and so with his hands clasped behind him, he overhears the opening salvo of conversation and pauses for a moment to let the exchange happen before he tries to catch Clara's attention. Giving her a small bow of the head.

Clara laughs as Lillian comes over to her with such enthusiasm, and slides down on to the kneeling cushion. She beams at the younger woman. "Congratulations!" She says sincerely, setting aside the knitting to lean down and hug Lillian enthusiastically. "Are you excited? Do you know what you're doing?" She asks in a quick rush of questions, before she notices the blushing visitor to the Salon. "Hey, coz," she greets with what is probably less than proper decorum for the Night Court, but is probably proper for Camaeline cousins. "Lillian, this is my cousin Lord Yves Valliers. Yves, this is Lillian no Rose Sauvage, who will be having her debut this Friday. You could bid on her, if we can manage to say whole sentences. Come, sit; can we get you some wine?"

As if it's some big secret, Lillian leans closer and whispers in incredibly quick words "Yes. I do I do! I'm so excited I can't stand it. We're going with a captured maiden theme. I'll be led in some Hellene robe. See through, but not like../too/ see through. 'Captured' by men wearing bestial masks, like some virginal maiden out of the myths. I'm still kind of nervous too since I don't…/really/ know what I'm doing? But that's normal, right?" Seeing Clara turn to Yves, she rises and offers the man a very quick curtsy, hair bouncing from the fast movement. She's just too energetic right now not to do that. "It's a pleasure, Lord Valliers." trying to be polite and a bit more reserved, considering she doesn't know him well, but the novice is fidgeting constantly with excitement, waiting for some sort of sign she can relax, or at least channel that energy to something productive.

Coming over to sit at the invitation, Yves glances aside at Lillian and nods his head at the introduction. "We met, briefly, before she was summoned away," he mentions to Clara and gives Lillian a nod in greeting. "Wine? I— yes, please?" he answers, clearly doing his best to be as pleasant and non-shy as he can. The shyness of course, is just a touch of cover for the awkwardness which takes all manner of schooling to discipline. His hands cupping the edges of his seat as he looks at those gathered. Like one might expect, his eyes dwell like a young man's might, where attention tends to gather. On the bosom of one young woman, on a passing bit of sparkling fancy, and yet each turn of his glance is more distracting to the last and he finds his eyes back on his lap. Schooling his discipline. "Congratulations on your debut," he adds after what was probably too long of a pause.

Clara rolls her eyes a little bit at the stammering, although it is clearly with fondness for her cousin. After she releases Lillian from the hug she leans back, and plops her feet on to her cousin's lap as she lays on the couch. She gestures to a third, conveniently unnamed novice to bring back some wine for the three of them. "Ooh, I like that. Mine was a slave auction, and it was…very exciting." She shivers a little bit.

Lillian chases Clara's hug with one of her own the moment she lets go. A brief, quick squeeze before she scoots her kneeling cushion even closer to the pair, sticking out her chest and sitting up straight whenever Yves looks her way, as if to show off. She's so close to being a 'real' adult, so she's trying to act like one, in her own way. "A slave auction theme..? Can you tell me about it? That sounds absolutely amazing.." leaning in closer, lips parted, eyes wide like they're trying to take in everything she says. "I've dreamed about that kind of thing before. I think every Red Rose has at some point, right? Do patrons do that sort of thing often? I really hope they do..I want to try wearing a collar at /least/ once." so into this she's honestly rambling a bit with her questions.

Never usually privy to these sorts of conversations, Yves listens but only sort of abstractly. Like engaging too much might make his head implode. The feet on his lap earn a glance and he awkwardly shifts one leg so that it's higher than the other, and puts one foot on top of the other. Not exactly moving her feet out of the way, but giving Clara a touch of space between her legs and his hormones. "This wine is excellent," he mentions between blushing glances, noticing Lillian's chest when she thrusts it out, though he's clearly trying not to look. "Clara, the goal of the art behind a debut is maximum engagement, yes?" he asks, making less overt conversation about the topic. The wine at least is warming him up and loosening some of his inhibitions. A bit less awkward after just a few sips and a touch of time to start absorbing.

Clara is sprawled out on one of the leather couches, with her bare feet up on Yves' lap—which he then moves to manipulate. She lets out a squeak as he takes a foot, apparently ticklish, but allows him to manuever it how he wishes. She grins. "We would hardly have our reputation if we bought the cheap stuff, coz," she reminds, before she grins to Lillian. "It was…intense," she allows with a bit of a blush. "I was collared, shackled, and…not wearing much. I spent most of the debut shackled to a whipping post, with people examining what they would be bidding on." She swallows. "I was fit to burst by the end, and I did not get to take that collar off for a few days." She grins at Lillian's question. "Nor was it the last time I would wear one. I wouldn't worry too much," she offers reassuringly, before her eyes flit back to Yves. "Exactly, to bring as much excitement and bidding as possible."

Lillian's hands slowly move to her lap as Clara tells her some of the details, thighs tightly closed and fidgeting against the other, squeezing the softness of her thighs tight as she squirms with barely hidden desire. Even her body stretches up to lean in close as she can from her position kneeling on the cushion, drinking in every detail with rapt attention. "That sounds exquisite..Wearing it for days, watched by so many people.." she bites her bottom lip, swallowing audibly, and casts a quick glance towards Yves. "H-hey! Sorry! I didn't mean to..Is this too much? I know girl talk among Red Roses might be kind of weird to listen to.." having noticed the blushing.

Odette comes out of the back office and seems more relaxed and a little relieved. She adjusts her beautiful dress as she walks. A novice comes near her and she opens her mouth, novice walks by, and she closes her mouth. She sighs quietly. Her eyes drift over to the people she's just now noticing, not when she walked in. She chews her bottom lip and stands there, like a beautiful butterfly with a black marble backdrop. She's still out of place. The young woman lifts her hands up and pulls her hair over her left shoulder before fiddling with it and she moves closer to the group. Then she hears about how Clara was collared and shackled and her eyes widen. She turns and b-lines away, bringing one hand to her lips as her cheeks flush. She finally gets a novice's attention and requests tea. It's brought quickly as there was already a pot brewed. She takes the hot cup and walks over to the hearth and stares at the gargoyles.

"And the debut usually attracts those who'd offer patronage to that Salon?" Yves surmises, having something very by the book to learn about, he stores that away and glances up at the question from Lillian and shakes his head slightly. "No, it's um, educational," he answers and gives her a touch of a smile. "I can only practice with my sword so much, it's fun to learn something new now and again that isn't swordplay," he mentions and his eyes wander around when they've lingered on the novices and others nearby too long and he ends up sending a look after Odette—seeing in her a reflection of his own awkwardness at the mention of the collar. "Clara, is that one okay?" he asks aside, quietly.

Clara grins as she watches Lillian. "And that's the problem, is that just hearing about it is its own form of torture as we wait for our own debut. But that's part of the rite of passage as well, your brothers and sisters driving you a little crazy with their stories," she offers with giggle. She nods to Yves. "Exactly. Even the people who don't win your first night will, hopefully, be intrigued enough to come back to you another night." She smirks. "It's a different kind of swordplay, at least." She looks over to Odette. "My lady, I promise that we can behave if you want to come join us; I'm Clara Valliers no Rose Sauvage," she introduces herself.

With a breathy, exhaled word, Lillian agrees with Clara with a "Right..?" nodding once. "It's absolute /torture/. Once word got around about my debut, I swear nigh every adept in the Salon's pulled me aside to tell me their stories! I love it, but I've been squirming myself to sleep every night for the past week, grabbing fistful of pillows to resist.." she looks to Yves, then to Odette, and though she's been talking freely amongst her own kind, given the late hour and loose lips that come from chatting with peers who've gone through the same thing, she realizes it's probably best to moderate herself, a little, to help them feel welcome. "Please, Mademoiselle! Come, come!" she waves Odette over, and raises from her cushion, ready to serve the woman. As she stands there, Lillian's tugging down on her dress, fidgeting. Pour thing's about to explode. Thank Elua her debut's so close. "Is there anything I can fetch for you?"

The young woman turns and grins at the group. "I am Odette nó Lis d'Or. It is within your rights, in your salon to speak as you wish." She bows her head. "I will not prevent you from doing that. I was admiring the statues." She turns to look back at the gargoyles as she sips her tea. "The decor is… well crafted." She nods her head and grins. The beautiful woman shakes her head. "Your excitement is palpable. You can relax." She moves over to the seats and delicately sits down, back straight and head bowed. "Thank you for inviting me. It's all too kind of you."

"Why is it torture?" Yves inquires of Lillian, not following because he is who he is, and he doesn't think of things like that without getting incredibly distracted. "Lord Yves Valliers, son of the Duc Valliers," the youth introduces himself as appropriately as he can since Clara didn't do it this time. Speaking when appropriate and rises ever so slightly like he intends to bow and wait for Odette to sit, realizes the effect that this has on his pants and Clara's legs and catches her feet so they don't fall, using them as camouflage and sits again—all very promptly. The name he offers marks his familial tie to Clara, though neither seems to be elaborating on the subject or the extended family through which they are apparently connected.

Clara looks back to Yves with a raised eyebrow at his question, before she squeaks as he rises and she starts to tumble…and then squeaks again as he grabs her feet again and keeps her from tumbling. She wiggles her toes as he settles back down. "Imagine that," she offers airily, without any exact description of what 'that' is, "But for a month. And then remember we're not allowed to do anything about it until our debut. And even then we're not exactly in control of our fate until we make our Marque; only then do we get to have assignations that are purely on the terms we desire." She explains it al matter of factly, before she looks back to Odette. "Oh, well then you're a sister of the Court; please join us and make yourself welcome. Three of the four of us are in the same service, after all, and Yves is family. Our fathers are brothers, his is the Duc and mine is the one whose consort is a Thorned Rose he fell in love with."

Lillian can't help but giggle at Yves' innocence, something that's so strange to someone who's grown up in the Salon, even if she's stealing curious little glances at what he's trying to hide with feet. Innocent in her own way, too, it seems. "Exactly like Clara said. I mean, usually it's not /so/ bad, right?" directing it towards Clara, who seems to 'get' exactly what her issue is. "They let us explore ourselves, a little. But when the debut's so close..?" she shakes her head. "Nothing at all. There's so, so much I'm looking forward to about being an adept. Getting to explore the city on my own terms, naught but a guard to shadow me. Getting to sleep in after assignations, and recover. But not being so bottled up all the time has /got/ to be one of the best parts, I'm thinking." smiling sweetly at Odette. "Thank you, too! I didn't realize you were one of us, Odette. I'm Lillian nó Rose Sauvage, Red Rose novice, and soon to be Red Rose adept."

Odette takes a deep breath. "That's not quiet right, Clara." Her voice gentle. "Sometimes you can pick who you go home with in your debut, as it's based on highest bidders but sometimes the highest bidder is not one you feel comfortable with so you can choose another. You are always in control of your fate and your assignations are purely on the terms of your desire. You can choose to take assignation or not. It is consent based and that is highly important. You choose who you take assignation with. If someone arrives and throws money at you and then demands you bed them but they make you very uncomfortable, you do not have too. Your consent matters." Her voice is delicate but firm in these matters. The 'your consent matters' her voice shakes. Her eyes turn to Yves. "If you were not the Duc's son I would say that you are handsome enough to be in the service of Naamah." She bows her head to him before looking back to Clara. Though as she grins, she grabs the medium sized pillow beside herself and hands it over to Yves with a kind grins. She glances between the two girls and grins warmly. "I am an adapt and I will give a small piece of advice… always have your guard. Even if you become a courtesan. You are exquisite creatures and people might take advantage of it. People who do not know our customs. Protect yourselves." She speaks from experience.

When Clara asks him to imagine it, Yves goes into thinking mode and seems to be trying to puzzle it out. His eyes still occasionally wandering, causing him to shift his legs and blush at intervals, but he seems to really be thinking about it. The explanation about not 'doing anything about it' at least seems to set the percolation just about right, and finally it seems to register on his face. "Oh, oh, I.. yes, I imagine that must be very hard," he says, glances down, blushes more furiously and then corrects, "Difficult, very difficult. Only a few days to go though!" he says with a smile towards Lillian. Trying to give her a sort of helpful 'you can do it.' Taking the pillow, he looks at it, then thinking he is supposed to pass it along, passes it to Clara. Thinking no more of it. "I um, thank you?" he says when Odette compliments him. He is a Scion of Camael, and has the build of a fighter. The necklace around his neck marking him as the recent Companion Day for Camael. He doesn't often get complimented for being pretty though, and that catches him a bit off guard. So much so that he hardly manages to blush.

Clara quirks an eyebrow at the response from Odette, a smile coming to her features. A genuine smile. "You aren't wrong," Clara offers in amusement at Odette's statement. "We can decline assignations at any time, and we are also required to have signales to stop when things get intense. But it is also an interesting place to be a Red Rose at your debut and feeling all those things, and wanting nothing more than to be taken by whomever wins; but we retain that right at all times, as nothing in the Service of Naamah stops us from being d'Angeline." She grins to Odette's comment about Yves. "Careful, you'll give him a complex," she offers. She pulls her feet back in advance of the pillows, and draws herself up off the couch—revealing the fully complete marque of Rose Sauvage etched from the nape of her neck to her tailbone. "Am I disqualified as the Duc's niece?" She asks curiously. In another person that question might have been barbed or loaded, but from Clara it is sincere. And then she blinks as she is handed a pillow. "It's so you can stop giving us your finest fencer's salute, coz." She hands the pillow back.

Lillian nods along to everything Odette says, and when Clara replies with 'wanting nothing more than to be taken by whomever wins' she practically jumps with enthusiasm. "Yes! Exactly! It's like..I know I can refuse. The Second's been very, very helpful in that regard too, making sure I knew things can steered in the direction of my liking. But it's just.." she takes the pillow for herself now, setting it in her lap and pressing her hands firmly down atop it, shoulders raised and arms straight. "..I almost don't care who it is, on some level? I just want someone -anyone- who can finally give me what I've been dreaming about near every night these past ten years. And certainly every night this past /month/." she sighs with a warm smile, brushing a few locks behind her ear, blue eyes peering up at Yves. "Thank you, Yves. I know I can do it. It's just.." she shrugs with a weak chuckle "..it's really nice to vent, sometimes. This has really helped ease the 'Oh Namaah I'm about to explode' feeling that's been pulsing through my veins as of late. So thanks, guys." beaming an even larger smile to them all.

Ode watches Yves just pass the pillow on and she blinks a few times before the pillow gets grabbed and pulled over Lillian's lap. She looks the woman up and down and then seems to be rather confused. "Lillian, what helped me get through it was chocolate." She grins. "Also stop thinking about it. The more you think about it the harder it's going to be. It's as if you are walking by the ocean and you are thirsty. The more you look upon the ocean the thirstier you become but it's not something you can drink from." She grins kindly. Her eyes turn to Clara and she admires her marque. Then her eyes turn to Yves and she looks him over but doesn't speak since stealing possible assignations from other houses is frowned on.

"Fencer's salu—?" Yves looks at Clara when she makes to hand the pillow back, and for his part, he finally manages to comprehend and places both hands over the considerable deformation of fabric along his inner thigh, all without making a scene of it. Perhaps it's best that Clara was the one to clarify, as he manages to look only almost entirely mortified, but not completely so. His eyes going to his cup of wine which he starts to drink at a pace that might border on being unhealthy, but which hides his face for as long as it takes for him to steady his nerves and not feel like an idiot. Unfortunately, he has to take the hands from his lap to drink, however, and that causes him to blanch again and he seems to try to juggle the two actions. The mention of his name from Lillian causes him to blink at her and he appears to be recalling her words in his mind. "I'm sure it will be everything you've been hoping for," he says pleasantly. "Not me, since I am not well suited to your particular salon, and I do not feel I would be up to the task."

Beaming a smile Ode's way, Lillian nods fast enough that her hair gets mussed. "Chocolate, I can do. But there is nooo way you can stop a novice from thinking about her debut, when it's only a few days off. I can't think of anything else! Trust me, I've /really/ tried." With that, the Red Rose novice stands and brushes the front of her dress off, and offers everyone a smile. "Thanks again for listening. It's..nice, being able to talk aobut this kind of thing with people. Especially with all the confusing thoughts spinning around in my head." bowing politely, Lillian makes to excuse herself, needing to get some sleep.

"I swear every Camaeline I've ever met, including myself, either loves this house or hates it," Clara offers with a shake of her head. "Nobody is ever just down for a good rough tumbling some times, or enjoys the occasional slap and tickle. They have to either be deeply in love with the sight of blood on a blade, or violence is something for outside and they don't want it in the bedroom. We are not," she sighs, "A people of moderation." She grins to Lillian as the younger woman stands up. "You well get through it, and soon the day will be here, and you will be experiencing the things you've dreamed of. A little more time, I promise, and it will be here. You can do this." She beams a smile at her house sister.

Ode watches Yves carefully before grabbing the pillow left behind and then reaching over to place it delicately over Yves delicates. She sits back and takes her tea. "Poor young one. I was never that bad before my debut. I had other things on my mind." She speaks softly. She listens to the Vallier's speak and grins. "I believe all is right between consenting adults. If you enjoy a whip, have a whip. If you enjoy tasting, taste." She shrugs. "No house is greater than the other and all are absolutely beneficial to their patrons." She nods her head before sipping her tea again and purring. "Lord Valliers, what is your preference?" Her cheeks flush. "I apologize if that is too forward."

The speculation of love or hate isn't something that Yves can comment on, and in fact, he doesn't speak to whether he loves or hates it. In fact, he might love some aspects of it. But what he has certainly said is that he was not well suited to being worthy of the debut of Lillian. "I have no particular, um, preference so far—I just know that I am likely inadequate to the task of making Mlle. Lillian's dreams come true. She deserves someone who will satisfy her every itch. I have only met with one woman, Mlle. Coco, from Glycine, so far, and she was quite," he swallows, "A handful. In a good way," he leaves it at that. "So I suppose Glycine, so far." The pillow placed on his lap earns Odette a look of appreciate as the considerable bulge there is finally properly concealed, and he can replace Clara's feet without feeling like she's risking bumping into something every six seconds.

"I was climbing up the walls," Clara pronounces. "If a particularly eloquent and rich species of warthog had won my debut I would have happily trotted off to be rutted, and only somewhat regretted it in the morning as long as he got me a patron gift. It was the first part of culminating everything I'd wanted since I'd demanded my mother send me to the Night Court so I could have the same training she did." She pouts. "In my dreams that would also come with her /height/, not my curse to be travel sized for the rest of my life, but it is what it is." She looks to Yves, and her smile is soft this time. "You would be a fine first patron for her, coz; you know more than enough to scratch the itches that matter. And I've yet to meet a brother or sister in this profession of ours who favored patrons that checked boxes versus ones that came to us with sincerity. And then on us, with sincerity, but that might be a bit more personal," she shrugs. "But I certainly don't mind you exploring with other flowers of our blooming garden either," she suggests airily, with a grin toward Odette.

Odette listens to him and grins. "How would you know until you try?" She speaks softly. "As many things, it takes practice. I am sure, based on how … ready she is…" That's putting it politely. "As Clara states, a quill might satisfy her. You are not an evil man, I know evil men. I am sure she'd be quite happy with you." She nods her head and then blushes as Clara talks of exploring other flowers. "Glycine is lovely. It's about feeling more than seeing." She fixes her dress happily and then starts to fiddle with her hair.

Perhaps because he considers Clara safe, and the number of novices and adepts nearby has dwindled with the departure of Lillian, Yves is a bit more bold with his reply, "A warthog, you know, I bet Mlle. Coco would have some fun jokes about that particular comment as well," he mentions her again, clearly associating positive memories with the woman. "I will be there, and put forth the attempt, if you think she'd appreciate it. Though I do not anticipate I will be successful, she is very lovely," he mentions quietly to Clara, and seemingly misses the mention of exploring with other flowers, either because he's distracted or because he doesn't follow the particular phrasing. Though he does look over at Odette again, takes a sip from his wine, and blushes a little.

"Sweet Naamah," Clara murmurs, "Watches over the foolish. Odette," she looks directly at the young woman. "Do you happen to have any assignation plans in the next several days? My sweet cousin, who as you mentioned is quite pretty and I have on good authority is quite muscled and probably of decent endowment based on that bulge, would no doubt love to explore the canon of your house with you. And probably also have sex, Companions willing. Are you interested?"

Odette lifts her eyes and she opens her mouth and then closes it as Clara starts talking more. She sips some tea. That was a mistake. She brings her cup up to her lips and tries to avoid sipping up everywhere. She swallows her tea and then looks to Yves and then to Clara. Wow, pale skin goes a bright red. She looks at Yves with worry in her eyes before she glances to Clara. "I do not have assignation plan for a a while. I…" Her jaw tenses and she bows her head. "I am sure there are many, much better women in Lis d'Or that would honor the Lord. I…" She stands up holding her tea. "I would not be considered worthy at this time. Thank you for you… bluntness." She curtsies to them both.

Blinking at the directness of his cousin, Yves turns his head slightly to look at his cousin and then looks at Odette. He doesn't exactly spit-take but he stops drinking wine and sort of sits there blushing, his mind clearly racing as he looks for something to say. That said, when Odette expresses her inadequacy, he shakes his head and says, "What's wrong, Mlle. Odette? Don't leave me with my cousin, you are very lovely and everything," he mentions, feeling like he needs to play the part of the valiant gentleman, the moment he senses that she is genuinely in need of some words of kindness and encouragement. Temporarily forgetting to be shy.

"You are more than adequate, Odette," Clara offers, holding a hand up to her head. "And I let my words run away from me far too often. I'd offer to let you spank me, but I'm afraid my dear cousin needs blood flowing to all important organs and not just the one. You are lovely and sweet, and he is a gentleman and handsome. You both seemed to be dancing around the issue, so I thought I would do the Camaeline thing and strike to the heart of the matter. I am sorry I embarassed you."

The young woman bows her head. "I did not come for a social visit." She moves back to take a seat, fixing her dress and then her hair. "I needed to ask, the Second of Thorns a few questions." Her cheeks flush. "Before my debut I was touched in a way that made me feel very uncomfortable and I asked her to stop and she did not. I wanted to know if I'd done something wrong. I haven't … felt safe here so I left to Elua for some prayer. That is why my marque is not further along." She bows her head further. "I am sorry but, I feel his kindness would be better suited to one who deserves it."

When Clara talks about being spanked, Yves actually reaches up with his free hand to adjust the collar of his dense woolen jacket. The red and white jacket doing him no favors for keeping his cool and he sort of changes his positioning slightly. Listening to the answer from Odette, he doesn't quite follow the story, because there are probably some factors there that aren't meant for an outsider or at least a young man with limited experience with the Salons. So he doesn't comment. He'd rather she feel comfortable, and Clara can talk to her from a place of experience. Instead, he sips his wine and tries to suppress. Hand on pillow to keep it steady over his thighs and knee.

The moment that Odette mentions her story and the reason why she is uncomfortable, Clara…shifts gears. Where before she had been lounging even while sitting, she sits up and is very serious. It is a different look at the young woman, and her eyes are intense as she looks to Odette. "You don't need to apologize for anything," she says seriously, standing up and moving to hug the other woman—if the touch is allowed. "I am so sorry, I had no idea. If I had known I would not even have joked. I hope that Raphael will help you find the answers you seek. He is a good man, and was a friend of my mother's. Please, forgive me for joking about such things. If you would like, Yves can walk you back to the salon; he is a good man as well, and won't do anything untoward."

The young woman tenses as Clara comes closer but relaxes and hugs her back. "I am sorry. I am trying to condition myself to being the Lis d'Or I should be so I don't disappoint my house but it is taking time." She speaks softly as she pulls back from the hug. "He did. Consent is important and I never gave any and should she show up again and do the same thing I …" She tears up a little. "…get her banned from the houses but I don't want her near me so it's …" She nods her head. "I will do my duty to Naamah." She lifts her eyes to Yves and offers him a small smile though her eyes are watery. She still looks stunning. Now it makes sense about her consent speech.

"I can offer to do things myself, Clara," Yves says, a touch touched by the wine in him, a little liquid courage. "But yes, I can walk you Mlle," he mentions to Odette, though he has to think back to the story to realize why an escort might even be desired. He suspects it was largely unnecessary, it was an unruly client, not a madman or bandit on the road. It was a bit like sending the army to deal with a case of unruly peasants. Overkill. With her feet finally out of his lap, he can adjust the pillow better, and turns slightly so that he can half-lift a leg up onto the couch, giving himself a bit more free leg room.

"If she comes back and tries to do the same thing again, we'll stab her," Clara says seriously. "And if she complains, we'll point out how if she isn't concerned about consent it doesn't seem fair for us to bother much with it. How can I ever be a proper Camaeline Lady if I haven't even stabbed one person?" She asks. It's…probably rhetorical? Mostly rhetorical? Maybe not a little bit rhetorical? She nods to Yves. "I know you can, but you've had more to drink than I have and I thought I would do you the kindness of offering for you so that you could get the credit for being a gentleman and not miss the chance." See? Perfectly reasonable. Charitable and familial, even.

The young woman grins a little to Clara. "You can. I … can't even lift a sword and the only knives I've used are dinner knives." She blushes. "You should get to stab someone. It's only right." She points out quietly, agreeing with the other woman. She turns her eyes to Yves. "I … could not accept an assignation with a man whose drank so much but he would be one I would accept from." She speaks softly to Clara. "I think he understands consent. With you as a cousin that is." She bows her head and fiddles with her hair.

"Next thing I know, you'll have set up a wife for me years ahead of schedule," Yves mentions and side-eyes his cousin. Clearly growing slightly drunk, not fully drunk, but enough that he's forgetting himself. Growing far less concerned with keeping the pillow in place, for instance and sort of just shifting a bit side to side as he talks. Looking between them, he looks at them both and wisely, despite the drink, decides not to comment on whether he thinks they'd do very well in a knife fight. "I'm sitting right here," he mentions when they keep talking about him like he's a part of the couch, sipping from his wine a little more.

"And she's shy, and telling me that she'd assign with you is an easy way of getting around being too shy to tell you," Clara points out. "And of all the people in our family who you should be worried about playing matchmaker for you, it is not the youngest daughter of the Duc's titleless brother by his consort. There are lots of people ahead of me in line for those duties, and I'm a guppy to swim in their political waters. I will happily stay here and remain my effervescent self, bringing the people of Marsilikos evenings that are equal parts delightful and head-tiltingly kinky," she announces, before she looks back to Odette. "You are OK. What happened does not define you, and does not change one iota that you are loved by Naamah who treasures you for your service. And you have friends who will help you through whatever happens next. Are you alright to go home?"

Odette blushes a little at the grump from Yves and then again at Clara's wisdom. She bites her bottom lip before letting it pop out of her mouth as she raises her eyes and nods her head slowly. "Thank you." She fiddles with her dress as she stands up. "I am. I need to be courageous." She grins warmly to Clara before giving Yves a smile and curtseying to him. "It has been my honor, my lord. Miss Clara." She stands up and takes a deep breath. She finishes her tea before walking over to a novice and handing them the cup. She lingers a little before heading for the door.

"And after that, suddenly I'm having kids, and being asked to lead an attack on the Skald, and .." Yves rambles a little, having a good laugh at the idea of all the things that Clara might do, clearly trying to make a joke, but failing perhaps a little. The shyness is certainly fading. Looking at Odette, he smiles at her a little pleasantly and actually manages to roll his eyes at his cousin's self-description of being effervescent. He doesn't bother her further, however, he'd offered, and now was not the time for him to be offering his consolation. He has the mental maturity to realize that nobody wants to hear from a random nobleman in a time like this. He starts to rise when Odette does and offers, "I can walk you, Mlle. if you need it."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License