prince du sang

@bourbondecadence​ asked a question: please give me anything to talk about other than the two women who unfortunately arrived in the same dress.

“the same dress?” edith echoes, bewilderment written plainly across her features when her head snaps up to meet eyes with a gentleman. his words take a second longer to register in her mind, and all she really takes away from it is the fact that he doesn’t appear to be british; in fact, his drawl is one she cannot place, but one that is rather prominent against the soundscape of the room. it presents a stark contrast to the posh dialects she is so familiar with to a degree that it makes her feel a little out of her confidence zone.

edith is not a particularly good speaker nor does she wish to be—so a stranger roping her into a conversation with so much ease (how annoying!) goes well beyond her wildest dreams. the gall of it would be something to admire if her throat wasn’t constricting so painfully at present.

she tilts her head, eyeing him–and for a moment, she wonders if she has imagined that sliver of amusement in his gaze–before she follows his line of vision. her gaze eventually settles on two women at the refreshment table, whose dresses truly do appear to be frightfully similar.

edith expels a breath, her eyes widening while her gaze snaps back to the gentleman. “that is terrible,” she stutters out after a moment, unsure what else to say.

The women of England all seem to lack the flair of France in Alexandre's humble opinion, no matter how long it's been since he set foot in the country of his birth, and he could only imagine that it was a crushing disappointment to those two women that they'd failed to stand out in any sort of good way. Oh, surely you could hope for the best, say that they would compliment each other's taste, but the looks on their faces implied they were prepared to split pearls between their teeth and Alexandre did not want to witness that.

Well. Maybe.

"It doesn't appear anyone else has been in your dress, at least." Alexandre quipped, head tipping to one side as he watched to see how she would take his words. A fun little game to play when meeting new people was to phrase his words in a way that could be just a bad translation, or it could be innuendo, and Alexandre enjoyed seeing just what they did since it usually said something about them. Plus it helped cover up any instances when he did make a translation error, although that was rare, thank you to his tutors.

“If you’re not careful, one of your feathers is going to catch on fire from that candle.” 

Sophia’s gaze slowly moved to the candle next to her head. She had placed a feather in her hair rather jokingly, but now, felt a little silly at the notion. It was her first real event out of mourning, and her first real event where she could sneak off without anyone really questioning things. She was half drunk, and in close proximity to a man whom she cared for far more than she should. 

“Take it out of my hair then, Lord knows I didn’t pull you away from everyone just to make a fool of myself.”

@bourbondecadence​

"But it's adorable to watch it bob around with you." It was amusing as well, far more than it should be and Alexandre thought that was likely to blame on everything he'd drank so far during the evening.

Despite his words, he did reach out to drag his fingers along the fine tufts of fluff that made up the feather, feeling how soft and light it was against his fingertips, happy to sway in the breeze. It was tempting to blow in a simulacra of a breeze again it. "Oh?" He asked, letting his hand drop. "Why did you pull me here?" As if he couldn't guess.

A kindly meant warning and perhaps all the more surprising for it, Alexandre straightened up in surprise and muttered, "I'm not a peacock." Still, Alex looked around carefully for a flame they might have overlooked. The abundance of mirrors lining the walls cast a warm glow through the air and candles were left to dot the room here and there in some unlikely places - that decorative ring holding candles around the top of a pillar, was that truly snug? Part of Alex wanted to reach up and tug on it, but considering that he wasn't an arsonist and didn't want to actually set anything on fire, he chose not to. Maybe Kate would be proud of his self control if Alexandre admitted to such out loud.

Another step back, it seemed, and a fire might very well have been possible. "Am I just that tall, or is that a very low and ill placed candle?" Alex asked, before remember just who he was talking to. Smiling slowly, Alex shrugged a shoulder. "Don't answer that, please." Exactly how it seemed that some of his favorite people to spend time with were all tiny made no sense to Alex, but it seemed the best people were pocket sized. Finishing off their flute of champagne and depositing it carelessly on a nearby table, Alexandre offered her an arm. "For the sake of my own safety, I think you should take me away from here, don't you?"