(1312-05-11) Not A Rosy Prospect
Summary: Neither the day nor the lady, in fact, as Edmond discovers whilst walking in the Jardins d’Eisheth.
RL Date: 110/05/2020
Related: None.
philomene edmond 

Jardins d’Eisheth — Marsilikos

Tranquility and beauty of nature is what those coming to the gardens of Eisheth usually seek. There is a playfulness in the arrangement of paths through the greenery, and the way four of them wind to the center, where there is a pond surrounded by a few elm trees, beside an area with wooden benches and tables beneath an arbor, where ivy winds about wooden posts, and a roof of colorfully glazed tiles offers shelter from the sun but also moderate rain.

Bushes are trimmed, and the green is kept short, so that people coming here can enjoy the dramatic view over the coast all the way to the sea, with the harbor and the citadel slightly to the north. Slightly towards the south and close by is the infirmary with the herb garden beside, where a variety of plants used for healing and treating certain illness are grown under the immaculate care of the healers. Towards the east, a path leads towards the temple district, where the dominant structure of the Temple of Eisheth looms, the white marble shimmering almost otherworldly on late afternoons, when it catches the warm, orange light of the setting sun.


It is a cool afternoon, and the gardens provide a pleasant respite from the bustle of the city. The view out over the ocean is magnificent, even if the distinction between sea and cloud at the horizon is rather fuzzy, both turning into a single grey mass. Over in the arbour, spurs glinting where they're attached to her otherwise mud stained boots, is a tall, older blonde lady of a striking countenance, clad in a dark brown riding jacket, breeches, and with a well worn scabbard at her belt. While she might look as though she's about to ride, today she's just leaning up against the upright, one foot slightly drawn up behind her, either waiting for someone, something, or just resting.

The sound of footsteps echos from the Infirmary as a man in his early thirties comes out from within the building, he is atired in clothes that whilst carry a degree of finery about them are not in the latest fashions, nor perhaps last seasons either, the only thing kept in very good condition is the sword at his waist. With a exhalation that carries the trace of frustration about it the man mutters something under his breath before catching sight of the other person in the gardens, with a start he turns and inclines his head "Ah, good day milday, I did not see you there"

"Clearly you did," Philomene responds in a lazy drawl, looking the man over with the sort of scrutiny usually reserved for a sergeant inspecting a parade ground. "Unless you're in the habit of talking to plants. Which," she adds after a moment, "to be fair is said to stimulate their growth. Was it a particularly rare strain of ivy you misidentified me as, or perhaps some sort of fungus?"

Edmond blinks a moment, considering the frank talking individual before him, with a grin he speaks "I was preoccupied and it took a moment for my perceptions to catch up with me, therefore I did see you as you say, but your presence had not registered and as for plant, a Lady with your bearing is hardly fungi, perhaps a rose? with thorns intact no doubt" watching with a warey eye and half smile Edmond continues with a slight bow "I am Edmond de Toluard, from Siovale, though most recently from Camlach at your service, might I enquire as to your name?" he asks still keeping an eye on the woman

"Of all plants, I think I should like least to be compared with a rose," Philomene notes, lowering her foot to the ground and unfolding her arms. "You'll find in this city that implies certain proclivities I find irritating at best. Well, Lord Edmond de Toluard, from Siovale and recently from Camlach, why are you now in Marsilikos? Some sort of tour?" She does not, it might be noted, bother to give her name. If the man is who he says he is, then he can ask his servants later, and the locals will certainly be able to identify her. Probably even if all the description he gave were 'some arrogant old blonde woman'.

With a chuckle Edmond continues to assess the woman before him, her stance and general demeanour before speaking "Ah yes, well I can see how a rose can be affliated with such but that does not mean that a flower is but a flower and there are many kinds, I did think it a more polite choice over say, a thistle, but as you would have it, not a rose" he notes the lack of names and ponders bringing it up, "My reasons for being here in Marsilikos? A question of my business without even an introduction, though given your manner of speaking I would infer you are not a simple commoner out for a sojourn into this garden… as you wish, I have spent nigh on thirteen plus years do little else but fight and my Uncle thought it was high time I balanced out my life and was considerate enough to instruct, or imply at least, that I should come here to do such. Does that answer the question to your satisfaction?" he finished with a grin.

Philomène absently reaches into her inside pocket, withdrawing a somewhat battered copper flask. She unscrews the lid as she listens, pursing her lips briefly. "Commoners are more likely to spend their time being useful, not contemplating the scenery. And how are my mountains? How was the province when you left? I miss the snow," she adds, then quirks a slight rueful smile and knocks back a swig from her flask. It is an odd fact that even if her accent has mellowed and melded into something more reminiscent of the interior of the country, as the subject and her thoughts turn to Camlach, so her vowels become shorter, more clipped, and very much more Camaeline. "Where were you stationed?"

Shifting his weight into a more relaxed stance Edmond, his eyes growing distant a moment "The Mountains, they are still there though the snow was melting prior to my departure; the passes had cleared and the Skaldi were scouting" he says absently rubbing his side "Scouting and being fractious, as for where I served, here there and everywhere, I spent my time in rotation from one boarder fort to another staying for at least six months to a year or so serving under the garrison commander, leading patrols and engaging in skirmishes and of course, when the call came, open battle." Edmond's eyes focus back on the woman before him, "I take from your accent and use of language that you are from Camlach, thus the introduction narrows" he comments, chuckling "But I daresay you've been out this way for some time?"

"It's been a while," Philomene admits, taking another swig from her flask before carefully replacing the cap and slipping it back away into the depths of her jacket. "But my daughter is there at the moment. Visiting her grandparents. Learning from them what I've been unable to teach from a peaceful little pig farm in l'Agnace. Well, what is your uncle expects you to learn here? This is a city of traders, healers, and peacocks. Which of those do you intend to learn from, Lord Edmond de Toluard of Siovale?"

Edmond ponders the question a moment before responding "Learn? I'm not sure learn is the correct phrase, but I shall endevour to answer your question as best I can." Again he pauses before continuing "From what I understand, the situation is manifold, firstly to seek a balance in life, if one spends all of ones time in a state of combat it can lead to, complications in ones approach to life, to treat every situation as a battle though even social engagements can have a similarity to such. Another facet of it is, again as I understand it, that there those I am related to residing here and it is a duty to foster relations and ties for political alliances and such, and lastly I am the Spare, should anything befall my brother then I will inherit the title to the family estate… I believe it was put in a manor of, I'd do no one any good dead on the side of a mountain, though that is a paraphrase" he grins softly, "The nature of obligation is what it is and such is the nature of life." Edmond regards his questioner, "Or something like that, so learn, no, maybe, perhaps, I am thirty and whilst we are never done learning I'm in no hurry to pick up any bad, or foppish habits."

"Mmm, well, it's a good city to be in to make friends and influence people at least. Your brother is heir to which estate, precisely?" Philomene asks. Some people might tread delicately, wheedle the information out from clues and hints and asking the keepers of all city gossip, the servants. Philomene is more direct, like a sledgehammer. "Married?"

Giving a laugh Edmond folds his arms, "Married mi'lady, myself no, I haven't given it much thought" he stops a moment "Not even sure if it will be my decision if that day should come but if you want to petition my father, Adolphe Valliers, you'd have to seek him out" he says grinning with merriment, "Though if you were thinking of my brother, I do not know I have not had much communication with my family as of late so I would not be able to help you there, as for who he is, my brother is Gaspard de Toluard and the family holds the estate of the Vicomte de Fronsac, my mother is the Vicomtesse." with a geniuine smile he speaks more "I do find your approach refreshing to the usual way of asking without asking, I can appreciate such a direct route, was there anything else you wished to know?" he asks with an open air about him.

Philomène makes a noncommittal noise in her throat, then nods. "Fronsac. We shall see." She straightens her lapels, shoves one hand in her pocket and turns. "However, I can't stand around enjoying myself all day. You'll excuse me." Some people might make that a question. Philomene? It's a statement. You will excuse her. "I wish you every success in finding whatever it is you're looking for here, Lord Edmond." With which, she lifts her chin a little and begins to stride away towards the main road, the heavy limp giving away her identity even if the brusque conversation hadn't been enough.

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