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Attic Dormer — La Glycine
A massive attic space exends here in a squared-off horseshoe around the great Atrium Dome of La Glycine. Along the northern wall there are beds and workspaces for the young novices and adepts who are kept as wards of the house. The novices keep the space clean, but the children tend to be of a wilder, more creative tilt, so expect some clutter. The wall behind the beds is adorned with gorgeous, tall windows, set against half-finished wooden beams, more to be admired from the outside than the inside, and are draped with long red velveteen curtains which the adepts can adjust to control both the light and the temperature; those windows are quite drafty.
Around the hooked edges of the horseshoe shape are massive open spaces for storage. Scenery, props, costumes, food and wine, all kept packaged up in the attic behind the two round sunburst windows which are visible glistening from the front of the building.
To gather one's things usually doesn't take long. Especially if you have been an adept until an hour ago. That hour, that had passed since Amaryllis had returned from a visit to the Dowayne's Office.
Thinking of the interaction that had ensued between herself and Bertrand nó Glycine still chased shivers of glee down Amaryllis's spine. The touch of his hand, still felt on the skin of her back, for once more in admiring exploration and acknowledgement of what she had accomplished. The sound of his voice, resounding in the very fresh memory of their conversation.
"I am particularly impressed of what you have learned here at our salon," Bertrand had told her with a smile. "Your marque is complete, and it is that of La Glycine. You can wear it with pride. You represent the sensuality of a Jasmine combined with the playfulness of a Bryony. I suspect you are quite the gambler, Amaryllis. I only wonder… what are you gambling for?"
Her gaze had dropped to her arms that held her gown against her frame, while her back was bared, for his inspection. "Monsieur Bertrand," Amaryllis had replied after a moment. "It is my wish to remain in Naamah's Service, and to stay with the salon. There is a patron though… he requests me to accompany him for a trip to the place where he was born. It will be… a longer term assignation, I believe."
Bertrand had nodded to this, and from the touch of his hand suddenly no longer felt she could sense he had stepped away from her. "I acknowledge your marque, Amaryllis nó Glycine. You are free to stay with us, and any of your contracts will be for you to handle yourself, for the future. As a courtesan of this salon, I want to see those contracts, though, to make sure your services are adequately tithed."
Her head had turned at that. And in turning around, she had looked towards Bertrand who stood at the window, glancing out towards the Place de Naamah. "What about…", she began, before pausing and biting her lip. "What about when I return. Will I still be welcome?" Something in her voice hinted at some hidden deeper meaning. The glint in her stormy grey-green eyes was telling, though.
The smile was heard more through the intake of his breath, than seen. Even if there was a faint reflection of him visible, in the glass pane of the window. "You will always be welcome here, Amaryllis. In fact, I want you to pick one of the vacant rooms in the Northern Wing for yourself. The dormitory is no longer adequate for you. Each of our fully marqued courtesans are entitled to a space of their own. I am curious. As it will be up to you to decide on interior and furniture… I wonder how this chamber of yours will look like."
The red-haired Glycine could not help but smile at that. "Why, Monsieur. Once my chamber is ready, I wish for you to see it for yourself. I would be so honored… and pleased." Again, that downflick of her gaze, of faux innocence that Bertrand did not buy, of course. A rumble of laughter rose in his chest and he turned around to face her, stepping towards Amaryllis with mirth glinting in his dark eyes, and also mischief.
"I shall visit your chamber, once it is ready.", he allowed, reaching out playfully to pull the gown away from her frame. "I promise."