#avoidingwhispers

Some people called that retail therapy. She could have agreed. She didn't have another outlet, despite visiting plenty of parties she wasn't invited to and staying out until all hours of the night. There were social circles she'd been a part of, which were great for... exactly that. Being social. Sharing hot gossip about who was having affairs, who had acquired boy toys (or girl toys as sometimes the case was), who was waiting for their partner to pass for the sake of inheritance.

The kinds of groups where the conversation is surface level, artificial, and lacking any real depth. In short, social groups didn't equate to friendship or real connections with people. Although it had occurred to her that even in Elwynn that the only connections she had made were the ones where coin pressed to palm and eventually thighs were spread.

All to say, not much of a connection at all. Not when transaction was involved, anyway.

Since her return, she had been asked to bedroom arrangements exactly once, which, didn't exactly turn her away, but at the same time, it didn't thrill her either. Maybe it was the method. Or it was that the man who'd inquired it of her, had been none too shy about boasting and bragging of his other paramours, leaving Belidrae with the kind of squirming discomfort that she simply couldn't shake.

He should have had the good sense to know that one didn't do that, even with the most casual of situations. People were still people, after all. Not things to be a part of some competitive collective. Belidrae would permit no one to treat her as though she were a thing.

"What do you think?" she finally asked to the tailor at her feet, a young woman who definitely hadn't been working there before her exile to the south. But she seemed nice enough.

She'd given her name as Syna Dae'Yla, which struck little recognition with her until she realised that the Dae'Yla family had largely been involved with archaeological affairs. Syna working in the tailoring field struck her as a little strange as a result, but she'd not bothered to inquire any further. Poking and prodding could always wait until later.

"Well—" Syna began as she rose to her feet, motioning for Belidrae to turn this way and that. When she did so, her head tilted and her face scrunched up a bit, like she wasn't really sure how she felt about the whole ensemble.

It was pretty enough. A floor length gown in very soft satin. It caught the light well, but wasn't overbearing in its reflection. It hugged Belidrae well, wrapped tightly about each and every curve. It was a generous piece in a deep red, which Syna felt offered appropriate contrast. Belidrae looked like she'd been kissed by the sun all over, so it was important to design things for her that were eye-catching and would make her stand out. It helped that she knew Belidrae liked attention.

But something still felt off. It was gorgeous. Glamorous. Stunning, even. It would draw the eye to it. It didn't feel like enough, though. Eyeing the way the straps fell and the neckline, Syna snapped her fingers.

"Let's try this instead, Miss Soulveil."

Pausing at Belidrae's back, her hands lifted and with tailoring shears in hand, she abruptly snipped the back straps, down by where the cut dipped low. Catching each, she carefully guided Belidrae's hair over one shoulder, so she could fasten the straps at the back of her neck. Then she gathered up that sunny blonde and let it drape down over, hiding the impromptu bow.

"Okay. We're... going to dip this down very low back here. Small of your back," Syna continued, tracing the shape of the cut she'd make with a finger before going in with a rather fine marking pencil to make the occasional mark.

"Turn."

At the pat on her hip, Belidrae shifted, skirts of her dress twirling about her ankles. It was a constricting piece, to be sure, but that was part of the appeal. She could have opted for high slits and exposing thigh, which she sometimes did, but she had very specifically requested something different this time.

As Syna gave her best scrutiny, she nodded. "Yes. That's the way. I like that style more for this piece. But, we're doing to have to alter all this up here." She gestured to the bunching of the deep red fabric over Belidrae's collarbone.

There were a few ways to handle it. Could have left it bunched up. Could have made it very business-in-the-front and pure sensuality in the back, but that wasn't Belidrae's style and Syna knew it. If she was making a statement, she was going to be making a very bold and brazen statement.

"I'm going to remove all of this," she decided, using the same method as before, a forefinger first to envision the idea and then the subtle markings in various places to solidify the concept. "Lots to show in the front and plenty more to show in the back. And, it'll still look expensive." Because that was important, too. The line between sensuality and tawdry could sometimes get blurred and Belidrae was not a tawdry woman by any means.

Continuing, she smiled, "We'll get you something to make sure your... pieces don't get out of control." She lifted both of her hands indicatively. "Tape, maybe. I can build something into the inside, I think. And we'll put something over your front, so you don't accidentally give someone an eyeful. Of course, if it's on purpose, that's another matter entirely."

Belidrae rolled her eyes with a coy smile. "That won't be happening." Probably.

"What are you wanting to wear this to, anyway?" Syna asked as she stepped back, picking up a notebook that she was fiercely scribbling notes into. "This was a pretty specific request, so if you need this for something upcoming soon, you should let me know, so I can have it done in time."

Belidrae lifted a hand and waved it dismissively, not inclined to move again until Syna could help her out of the lovely contraption in development. "I don't have anything specific in mind. I don't think I could wear it to just anything. And I don't have a soiree specifically in mind right now. I guess it's a just-in-case piece at the moment. You can take your time with it. If something comes up where I'd need it sooner, I'll tell you."

But the tailoring shop had more than its fair share of customers. Belidrae was spoiled, but not to the point where she felt like the rest of the world needed to move at her fingertips.

"You know what they say, you can't rush perfection," she added helpfully. "It looks great so far. I know it'll only get better. I can't wait to try it on again once it's done."

And maybe by then, she'd have something to wear it to. It'd be nice to go to something and be the mysterious beauty in the crowd.

She was still taking in her appearance when she heard distant footsteps that she scarcely saw fit to pay proper mind to, every curl of yellow blonde hair that assaulted her shoulders and how wonderfully her skin was kissed by the light of the day. It wasn't until she heard his voice that she turned.

"How did y—" Valerron began, but in the fleeting moments passing that recognition set in, he leaned against the door frame. "Shit. Belidrae." Instantly he looked tired, befuddled, and unimpressed all at the same time, folding arms across his chest.

His younger sister put herself on display for him, all shining fabric that hugged her and showed... about as much as she'd often seemed comfortable wearing, never afraid to flaunt the features she thought were the most appealing to the sight. Or simply knowing how to draw the eye.

"Why, brother," she purred out her response, a smirk forming in her mouth as she opened her arms in an over-the-top and lavish welcome, like old habits died hard, though their family hadn't even been a thought in most minds of elven society. "How good to see you home at last. I trust your time on the front lines in K'aresh was successful?" Impish and coy, she slipped her hands behind her back.

"You would know if you—" If she'd actually shown up. Many, many months before he had convinced her to go with him, if only because he wanted to give her a better direction in life. Instead, it'd seemed she had simply chosen to stay in his estate, drinking his wine, spending his money. He couldn't even be surprised because that was how Belidrae had always been. He understood she'd been on the streets for no shortage of time once their parents had bid her away, and he had always held a soft spot for her. Maybe it was just nicer to have her somewhere that he knew she'd be safe.

Shaking his head, he gestured to her, from head to toe, with a gloved hand. "That's not important, but this is. Have the others seen you?" Because the last time they all had, it had been a complete palette shift. If he hadn't seen her with his own eyes, hadn't heard the bizarre way her voice had changed, he might not have believed it. "Am I coming back to a bunch of letters that I'm going to have to issue a bunch of apologies for on your behalf?"

Belidrae feigned shock, lifting a hand and splaying fingertips along her bottom lip, softly painted in a metallic shimmer. "Of course not! I've been on nothing but the best of behaviours." Which was true, shockingly.

Instead of immediately seeking out Kathis and trying to ruin his married life with a fun little ongoing affair, she'd resisted. Sure, she bought no shortage of gowns, hair pieces, assorted jewellery, and other absolutely unnecessary accessories, but that wasn't poor behaviour. It was economical benefit. She hadn't even put herself in the pathway of any galas and soirees, though she'd certainly heard of some that she ordinarily would have gone to and shamelessly drank nights away in favour of the next morning's hangover.

She didn't question why she didn't immediately jump back into that lifestyle. It wasn't that she hadn't liked that. It was very much because she still felt held back by everything that had occurred in the last year and then some. The ring her family had granted her to give to a man who had once claimed to want to marry her and managed to get her to fall in love with him, had made off with it. She was out a heart and a family heirloom. The latter, perhaps, was more easy to obtain.

Could have hired someone to do it for her. She certainly had no intentions to chase him down herself. He didn't want her. He made that clear when he left. She had, ultimately, meant nothing to him and she had been a very, very stupid escort, thinking she was even capable of love beyond the kind one bought temporarily and artificially when pressing coin into her hand. She knew better, of course, now. Too little, too late. Chasing that damn ring was going to be better left in someone else's hands.

Belidrae would have to pay handsomely for its retrieval and find someone who even did that kind of work.

Valerron pinched the bridge of his nose. "Given that I haven't received any letters from the family, I guess you're telling the truth." He certainly would have heard otherwise, even far into the uncomfortably cold reaches along with the rest of his unit of Farstriders. They weren't there on Farstrider business, but when he'd heard more hands were needed, he elected a few volunteers to go with him.

He had to admit, he was relieved to be home. Even if he was coming home to a sister who was nothing short of spoilt.

Some moments more of quiet, and when she began to slither past him, he found himself hesitating, as if he was afraid he'd touch her and the illusion of her appearance would simply break apart and shatter. But she passed with no incident and as he turned to watch the way she sauntered in that very deliberate way, that sway of her hips, he shook his head. She was going to get herself in trouble if she kept doing that. And he suspected she didn't care.

"You look like you're going somewhere," he continued.

Baring her teeth, sharp and even alike, Belidrae lifted a hand, flicked some curls of that bright blonde with nary a care. "Of course I am. I look this radiant and I should stay inside? No, no. Now that you're home, I think I'll be a little more irresponsible. But don't worry, I've kept your estate very tidy. I've earned a little down time, I think."

Laughing, the very sound, a little lyrical and even a little tight, echoed down the corridor as she moved, her skirts in the same shimmer sweeping about her long legs. "I'm sure there's a party going on somewhere and I intend to stay out late tonight. Brother dearest, don't come looking for me."

Left in the quiet of the hallway, Valerron shook his head. She was definitely going to get herself in trouble. She might have behaved whilst he was out, but he got the impression it wasn't going to stay that way for long. Maybe it was time to start writing some of the other families of Quel'Thalas. If she could keep up that appearance, they'd likely never need to know what she really was.

Maybe one of them would be foolish enough to consider courting her and keeping her out of harm's way.