(1312-06-17) White Rose Delivery
Summary: Aimeric returns to the salon after some weeks of absence.
RL Date: 18/06/2020
Related: None

Night Court — Marsilikos

When the carriage pulled up before the Salon de la Rose Sauvage, flanked by a retinue of guards on horseback, Aimeric sensed the ominous weight of eyes, feasting on him and perhaps tickling him for a reaction. "There we are," she said, and the White Rose courtesan lifted his gaze to grant her that eye contact, even if his gaze was veiled through the mop of dark hair that fell down over his forehead.

Clad in his garb of white shirt and white trousers, all kept meticulously clean, Aimeric averted his eyes then to glance out of the window, towards the impressive entrance of the salon. The faint trace of a blush crept up his cheeks, accompanying the confession that was about to slip from his lips. "I shall cherish the memory of the time we've shared." His voice was low, almost a whisper as if admitting something taboo and forbidden.

"These six weeks," the lady replied with a soft sigh. Her hand reached out, fingers touching the side of his head, sliding into his hair with slightly possessive intimacy. "Six weeks, in which I have managed to spoil an endearing White Rose… I wonder… are you wroth at me?"

Her counter made his lips curl in a faint smile. "For trying and breaking my innocence? For indulging in my tears?" Aimeric pulled his gaze away from the view out of the window to focus on his patron. "I will need time to recover. And Naamah only knows, whether I'll be able to find it again. That sweet purity…" The touch of her hand against his skalp caused a subtle almost imperceptible shiver in his frame.

"If so… I will be most glad to spoil it again," the lady responded with a wicked glint in her eyes. "But for now, Aimeric, Sweetling, adieu." She held out a heavy purse of dark purple velvet. "My gift of appreciation…"

His hazel-brown eyes shifted their gaze from the lady's face to the patron gift, and Aimeric smiled. "You are very generous." And in grabbing the purse and the bundle of his few personal belongings he rose and slipped out of the carriage. Managing an endearing "Adieu," in response to her own, he looked over his shoulder to give her a last glance, before he climbed the stairs to the doors of the salon.

Leaving her without even a kiss of goodbye.

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