(1312-03-09) Cinnamon Rolls
Summary: Talk turns to riding and books, when Justine makes the acquaintance of one Cyrille de Rocaille at the market promenade.
RL Date: Mon Mar 09, 2020
Related: None.
cyrille justine 

Market Promenade — Marsilikos

Two massive promenades, separated by a narrow row of alternating planters and plinths supporting marble statues from all over the known world, make up a marketplace that extends in a narrow space far to the north of the grand plaza to the south. Each walkway is two two-meter marble slabs wide, one gleaming white, the other greyish-blue, and they alternate to and fro in coloration all the way down each promenade, their intersections marked with a series of equal-armed crosses in shimmering black stone. While there is plenty of space for vendors to set up ad-hoc establishments to hawk their wares, to each side of the double promenade are stoa of fluted marble, holding up a terra-cotta tiled roof over a shady, cool walkway, punctuated here and there with doorways and windows open to a long series of indoor shops, each marked with a hanging sign outside the door.

Every twenty meters or so, five stairs lift the level of the promenade as the marketplace works its way uphill, to a smaller plaza at the northern end where all the most exclusive and expensive shops are established. This smaller plaza also has an obelisk of red granite in the middle; it's shorter, and more slender, but when the change in elevation is taken into account, its tip is at the exact same height as the massive obelisk in the town square to the south.


It's an early morning, with the winter air still keeping a few people from venturing outside. Some dare to brave it, while some still linger outside the bakery, murmuring to the pair of guards that flank them as though they are debating going inside. One such figure, or perhaps the only such figure, is the young Lord de Rocaille, newly arrived to the city. He wears a thick coat, lined with fur to help keep him warm against the unrelenting winter air. "Yes, the chichis were delicious, but they have so many flavors." He murmurs to the male guard with blue eyes. "What kind should I get?"

Early morning it is, and here comes Justine, tempted out into the fresh morning weather in hope for an instructive stroll about the marketplace. As instructive as a stroll about the marketplace may be. The young lady is attired in a fine dress in white and green, blonde hair arranged in a fashionable manner, a warm cloak protecting her from the cold, and a pair of Chalasse guards are taking care of keeping her safe. Spotting the gentleman before the bakery, the young lady pauses and offers the young man a smile. "Good morning," she greets, her accent definitely Namarrese. "I can only recommend the treats that an be bought here at the bakery." Has she overheard some of what he said to his guard? How cheeky!

Peeking over at the Chalasse Lady as she greets him, Cyrille casts a shy smile back towards her, followed by a polite dip of hishead in her direction. "Good morning, my Lady." He murmurs, taking a peek towards his guard, and then back towards her. "I'll admit that I'm rather hungry, and breakfast has been declared the most important meal of the day…" He starts, and it may be the chilled winter morning, or it may be his reserved nature that has his cheeks, and the rest of his face, as red as they are. "But I've yet to decide what I would like."

He yields to a brief pause, as though trying to conjure more words to spill out for the conversation. "How are you, this morning?" He asks, his tone still held low for the words that do seem to come to him. "I don't believe we've met."

"Indeed. We have not." Justine dips her head a little, blue eyes lifting to regard the stranger. "You must be new to the city? Not that I have been around for that long. A few months. Justine Chalasse de la Courcel. Pleased to make your acquaintance my lord." The way her pitch rises towards the end of that courteous introduction implies a question of sorts, or an unspoken anticipation of him following her example. "It's rather chilly this morning… Hmm, I think I could be tempted to enjoy some hot mulled wine if they have in there, while I make up my mind which sweet pastries to buy."

"Very new indeed." Cyrille grants, dipping his head low once again. "Cyrille de Rocaille, and the pleasure is all mine, my Lady." He murmurs, his eyes tracing her features for her introduction. As she drifts the conversation towards the bakery, his eyes seem to gravitate towards it as well, his lower lip being pulled in between his teeth to be chewed on for a moment. "That does sound rather delicious, yes." He murmurs, yielding to yet another pause. "Perhaps it is better to go inside then."

"Perhaps," Justine agrees in that vague manner that could easily be taken as some sort of tease. "And perhaps, my lord of Rocaille, you might like to tell me what has brought you to this fair city. In my case, I admit it has been to consult with the gealers and priests of Eisheth." Given her healthy complexion and excellent spirits, this might be a detail hard to buy. "Shall we?" She leads the way, and her pair of guards trail after her, into the bakery.


Bakery — Market Promenade

L'Agnacites hold with the truism the expression of art through food is a holy calling, and such a shrine pays homage to the creative spark. Gourmands worship at a marble altar groaning under a sinful array of glistening pastries and thin cakes. Offerings stacked in neat rows behind glass gleam bright as a raj's jewels: ripe cranberries and pomegranate seeds under clear glaze, clouds of pearly cream, ruby strawberries and pale jade grapes. Pale gold custard tarts and honey-drenched buns sit next to delicate finger-cakes dusted in cocoa and curls of shaved chocolate. Fruits of the season laboriously contrived into visual illusions transform humble apples into ladies' purses with aid of crepes, or create the famed dome of Marsilikos from apricots and oranges.

Senses besieged from every direction find no relief. Colourful cream-filled macarons whet the visual appetite as the scent of fresh-baked breads stir out from the ovens from the pre-dawn hours until mid-afternoon. Seating is sparse, merely a few wooden benches to the front. The long, narrow shop is dominated by display cases and the odd bottle of fruit wine and sherry mounted upon a shelf for an afternoon aperitif. Plain white walls graced by sconces overflowing in seasonal flowers hardly detract from the baked goods for sale, and the narrow shopfront windows allow light to pour in.


Perhaps Cyrille missed the tease, or he doesn't react to it at all. It would be hard to say if his cheeks became any more red, as it may simply be a result of the chilled winter air. "Adventure, in a manner of speaking." He decidedly answers towards Justine. "Mother and father have a number of duties to attend to, and I've too many siblings between myself and the heir to worry about inheriting any of that responsibility, so I've left Angoulême in search of books." With that, he follows along under her lead towards the bakery, his own guards trailing behind and scanning the room for a place to sit, to grant the young Lord his privacy while he shares in Justine's company.

They enter the bakery, and Justine approaches the display cases, fidgeting with her gloves to pull them off, one after the other. "Good morning. I'm frozen and starving… Do you happen to have mulled wine so that I can warm my hands?" A nod then towards one of the vacant tables. "I'll be over here, thank you." With a smile, Justine discards her cloak and hands it iff to one of her guards, then looking towards Cyrille. "Adventure, hmm. Now, that sounds exciting!"

Following along after Justine's lead even still, Cyrille approaches the counter eyeing the clerk behind the display case. "The same for me as well, please." He murmurs, and then casts his glance back towards Justine as they move along. "Certainly. I've found a number of books here that I didn't find in the university back home." He admits, his lips curling with a pleased smile, fondly recalling the books he mentions. "What about you, my Lady? How long have you been in the city?"

Justine takes a seat at the table she has singled out for them both. "Ah… I have to admit, I've never been too fond of books, Lord Cyrille," she tells him with an almost apologetic smile. "So you are studying at the university of Angeloume? Are there any areas that interest you in particular?", she wonders. A faint smile then, at his inquiry. "I came here in early January, my lord, after attending the Midwinter Ball at the Royal Palace in the city of Elua. You see… my father-in-law, the Comte de Brioude, thought it a good idea and suggested this. I find the climate here in Marsilikos quite agreeable and haven't regretted my decision so far."

"Books are a sort of… Passion of mine. I bring one with me to bed each night." Cyrille counters fondly towards Justine as he claims his own seat with Justine, his lips curled into a content smile. Though as the conversation moves on, he gives a soft nod. "Yes, that is correct. Or, well something of the nature, at the least. I haven't attended an official course there in some time, but when I was there last, I had a habit of borrowing books from the library. Though, I'm just studying general science for the moment."

"Marsilikos does have a nice climate, though I'd say it isn't too dissimilar to what I experienced back home." He murmurs on, leaning back into his seat a touch. "I can see why you'd enjoy it here. I've found a number of good associates so far, and have been enjoying my time thus far."

"Now, that is a thing I can hardly claim, in regards to myself," Justine declares with a faint smirk. "But I'm glad that you were able to find inspiring literature. And company." Her smile deepens a little. "Will you stay longer? There will be tournament soon. With a number of contests. They should be entertaining to watch or even compete in." Mulled wine is brought for the both of them, served in clay cups. Instantly, the delicious scents of fresh bakery goods are finding an intriguing addition in an aroma of spice and wine.

"It's not for everyone, I can agree." Cyrille replies, scooping his mulled wine into his hands for warmth, and bringing the clay cup just under his nose to delight in the scent of it. "Ah, I hadn't considered the tournament, to be sure. I have nothing but time at my disposal at the moment, so granting that the company is as agreeable as I have now, I see no reason to miss them." He mentions, finally bringing the cup to his lips for a light sip. "Mmm. I'm thinking something baked with cinnamon is beginning to sound rather delicious."

Her fingers touch the clay cup before her on the table, but Justine does not yet make any effort to lift it. When she hears Cyrille's suggestion, she brings her hands together, to regard him with intrigued delight. "Cinnamon rolls! And some lemon cakes! That sounds just what I need at the moment." She looks towards the attendant, "Please, would you serve some to Lord Cyrille and me?" Her hand finds the cup, and now she will lift it, looking towards Cyrille before she enjoys a sip. "I plan to compete in the horse race."

With Justine's treat selection, Cyrille's lips curl in a pleased smile and be nods his head in agreement. "Excellent choices, my Lady." He offers, his eyes dancing over towards the attendant, and then back to Justine. "A great combination with the mulled wine, and hopefully it will help to warm our chilled bones." Though as she speaks about her plans to compete, his lips curl more brightly. "Well, then I should like to come see that, at least."

"I have developed quite the passion for riding," Justine tells him with a smile. "I will have to practice a little, though. I'm not sure my Snowflake will be able to handle the obstacles if I don't get her used to them first. There is the Hippodrome outside of the city, and that is where I'll have to train her."

"It seems books are to you, what riding is to me." Cyrille admits, bringing the wine in for another sip, just as a plate of the requested sweets are brought to the pair of them. His eyes shift down to the plate of goodies, his lips curling more brightly with delight as he reaches out and secures one of the cinnamon rolls for himself. "I haven't the faintest bit of knowledge on riding, though I've also not spent any serious amount of time learning how either."

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