(1312-01-07) Invitation Wagers
Summary: Two Namarrese nobles encounter each other at the Dome of the Lady.
RL Date: 07/01/2020
Related: None
justine jean 

Solar — Ducal Palace

Spacious enough to provide a meeting place of more familiar atmosphere to the residents of the Ducal Palace, the solar is of rectangular shape and generously lit during the day through a number of arched windows in the south wall. The opposite side is governed by a huge stone hearth, a fire crackling there during colder weather conditions. Above the hearth hangs a shield with the coat of arms of House Mereliot, flanked by a pair of exquisitely woven tapestries depicting naval scenes of ships on the sea, one in calm and tranquil weather conditions, the other one in a storm with heavy rain.

All furniture is made of oak, be it the long table in the middle of the room, or the number of high backed chairs arranged about it, flat cushions of blue brocade adding to the comfort of seating. The ceiling is a sophisticated rib vault, constructed of wood, the ribs painted in yellow. Depictions of a variety of sea animals have been added onto the light blue ceiling as well by an unknown artist. Several kinds of mediterranean fish adorn the spaces in between ribs, such as combers, groupers and flounders but also starfish and octopuses.

A door leads out onto a rooftop garden, and an archway opens into the upper hallway.

The Ducal palace is where nobility will often mingle. Also… visiting nobility from other provinces. Some days ago, such a visitor had arrived, in a carriage bearing Chalasse colors, guarded by a dozen Chalasse guards. And it is today, on this lovely winter afternoon, that Justine has emerged from her current residence at the Chalasse residence, for a visit to the Dome of the Lady. Blonde hair has been done up in a courtly fashion, framing a face of young d'Angeline features. The young lady must be in her early twenties and she wears the gown of white and green with courtly grace. A fine necklace of silver, with a pendant shaped in the likeness of a horse, studded with small diamonds adorns the area above the neckline, which is comely and not too risqué. Adequate for the season, the dress has long sleeves and long skirts that give s soft rustling sound when she turns.

Whoever comes entering the solar will come across a pair of ladies chatting amiably with each other, only to pause and wave to Justine, who gives a nod for those departing. She is seated in an armchair close to where the fire is burning in the hearth. And for the moment, the chairs in her immediate area are available, vacated by the two ladies perhaps that have just left the solar. Other courtiers can be seen chatting over by the windows, they seem to admire the view, while now and then stealing a furtive glance at the blonde lady visitor.

Once upon a time, Jean might have been one such visitor, though the reasons for his arrival were less arbitrary and more compulsory. Nevertheless, the Vicomte has no guards, and no need for them. By now, his reputation is known in the Palais, given the amount of near-death situations he has faced in the past. He's heard of the Chalasse, though, given her Namarrese origins, and that's reason enough to meet, if the little interjection at the Royal Court and the scandal that followed wasn't. The once heir of L'Envers is clad in deep burgundy and black, for tunic and trousers, respectively, and this is coupled with a pair of black boots, polished, almost immaculate.

He comes in, without a gaggle of followers or would-be suck-ups for the first time in quite sometime since his arrival to Eisande, and his gaze falls upon Justine. Making his way to her, he nods to the ladies as they depart before settling down beside her, the attention of his violet gaze solely upon the Courcel. "Well met, my Lady."

Once up a time, Justine was quite the regular presence back in Namarre, at the provincial court of the Duc de Barthelme. Until about one year ago, when arrangements were made and she left for l'Agnace to be presented to the House of Chalasse. Perhaps Justine's recent scandal was less of one, considering the scandalous tales that surround Jean l'Envers. However, while his violet eyes give away his descendance, there is that distinctive air and his features that have Justine's brows lift at first, and then smooth into a cast of recognition and surprise. "My lord Jean l'Envers," she greets, rising for once in an elegant glide that then shifts into a graceful dip of a curtsey. "Is that you? Very well met indeed." Her gaze was lowered briefly, but in straightening, she lifts her eyes, blue-grey, as they are. "I am not sure you remember me. Justine. Justine Chalasse de la Courcel."

"I do remember you, my Lady," It is Jean's turn to rise to his feet in turn, bowing his head to the woman who, nominally, will be spouse to the one that will inherit a higher title than his own. His gaze holds hers again as he outstretches a palm, turned upward, to take her hand into his own, as he inclines forward ever so slowly. It is true, he is a scandalous man, though there might even be rumors that he died or settled down considering how little noise he has been making as of late. Something definitely sublimated.

"You look gorgeous and lovely as you have always been, Lady Justine. Quite the surprise to see you in the city, I admit," he goes on to add, casting a brief glance around, before taking a step forward to her. "But be welcome to Marsilikos. If there is anything I can do for you to make your stay and adjustment to the city easier to transition into, I hope you will write me to let me know."

That hand is granted, her fingers a little cool to the touch perhaps, as Justine meets that violet gaze with only slightly concealed curiosity. "Thank you," comes her reply to his courteous remark, and she inclines her head. "I too did not expect to meet anyone here who would remind me of home. Truth be told… My former home. I do already miss it." There is a pause as she notes how he steps closer, which somehow forces her to raise her chin a little to keep up eye contact to the lord of taller built. "I have come here…", she begins to explain, "because of my health. It was not at its best when I left Elua, after Longest Night." No comment, not even an acknowledgement of the suggestion of her writing to him. Perhaps she just forgot to address it?

"I see." Jean says, regarding her health. "There are great healers here, and the Temple has waters that I am told have curative properties. Perhaps you will feel better once you take a swim there." He remarks, kissing the back of her hand before nodding to her words, considering them with an uncharacteristically quiet expression.

"I'm glad I remind you of your former home, and rest assured," a slight smile for that, "it is likewise. The Longest Night can be a shoddy date to learn that an illness may have overcome us, but I will say I am glad to see another Namarrese in the city."

"Shall we sit down?", Justine suggests with a smile, even as her eyes too linger on the back of her hand in the moment Jean presses his lips to it. "I suppose, we never forget where we are coming from. Our upbringing; childhood; many years spent in lovely Namarre." Once her hand is released, the blonde lady settles herself back into the comfortable armchair she had occupied earlier, her gaze and attention never leaving the vicomte. "It is just a cold," she begins, waving it all off with the flick of her hand, "I had a bit of a fever, but luckily enough, I am already feeling much better. I have heard that the climate here in Marsilikos is particularly benign to those in recovery. So I suppose, I shall spend a few months here."

"It is quite good for one's health to linger here," Jean agrees, looking up to behold her eyes with the way she tracks his motion. How curious, that. Perhaps at a loss on how to interpret it at first, he hazards his first guess, nodding to the blonde lady as he settles down beside her, his hand tracing the arm of his own chair.

"I am glad you have seen rapid improvement since your arrival. Perhaps you would be amenable to a dinner at the L'Envers house at some point?" The Vicomte wonders, with another smile that is easy to bloom. "I do agree that the climate is amenable, and perhaps less punishing for those of more delicate constitutions."

"I am glad as well," Justine admits with a bright smile. "And yet my healers have cautioned me not to engage into too taxing activities. Health is a delicate blossom, or so they say. Dinner at your mansion? Hmm, I don't intend to reject such a kind invitation, my lord." A light chuckle spills over her lips, and she shakes her head. "It would give a poor display of manners. I too in turn would like to return the invitation with one of my own. It is just that right now, I still need to find my way around, get acquainted with the house staff and the cook, to see what is possible…"

"Then I kindly accept and will look forward to the invitation." Jean says, in turn, as he meets Justine's gaze. With a bright smile, he rises to his feet, looking her over for a moment. "Rest assured there will be plenty to remind you of home, including our great Namarre Reds, especially those of Barthelme. As for yours, that happens, when one is newly acquainted to the city. I could ask my servants to send you a list of references of people who are honest, not prone to stealing and who work hard and dutifully."

"The residence already has its own staff established, provided by the Duc de Chalasse," Justine counters. "And I have brought some staff of my own along, few as they are. A handmaid, a servant and some guards that have looked after my safety, on my way here. I don't intend to replace anyone, unless they commit an offence. But I am fond of Namarre reds, I have to admit that." She smiles, and this time, it is a warmer smile, fueled by Naamah's blood perhaps, that must flow in her veins. As Jean moves to stand, she remains seated for a moment, content to consider him from where she is so comfortably settled. "We only need to decide on a day, my lord Jean. Let us see who will be the first to send out an invitation."

"Within a week's time, shall we say? We can make a game out of it." Jean grins at Justine, inclining his head to the Courcel-born lady. "A pleasure to see you once again, on these stranger lands, my lady. I hope to see more of you more often, in fact. We will toast to that, when the time comes." Letting his gaze linger upon her own, he takes a step back, bowing his head briefly as he turns to the exit.

"Companions bless you." And the Vicomte departs.

"A wager? Of course!" Apparently, the idea delights Justine and she brings her hands together, palm against palm, fingers lacing loosely. Her gaze lingers as Jean steps away from her, and she returns his words of leave with a murmured, "The Companions' blessings upon you as well, my lord."

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