White Poppies // Therese
Gossip, no matter where you go, seemed to be a prominent part of being in any mercantile industry -- to have workers whisper and chatter to each other in hushed tones perhaps was only natural, but Olivia refrained from partaking. But it's today that the two others that she works with in the quaint flower shop pull her into the backroom and thus involve her in their almost ritualistic past time. Though instead of snide tongues, they speak with caution not for or of Olivia herself, but of the woman donned in muted tones out in the store front.
The taller girl laments that she isn't great at dealing with silent types, and the stout boy simply shrugs his shoulders and remarks of how creepy the customer looks. They ask the rose haired woman to aid the customer, and she relents with an awkward nod. Those two were rather rude anyway.
Olivia emerged from the back of the shop and took careful, calculated steps toward the woman with eyes downcast. The way her shoulders set when she glided about the shelves and racks of flora brought Olivia back to countless dining halls and foyers of royals; the way this person moved reminded her very much of the ladies of noble birth, and it is because of this that the dancer could feel herself starting to flare up.
With this in mind, she reverted back to her formalities; Iunctum, Hydread itself rather, was a place far ahead of her time and it was more often than not that she would get raised eyebrows for the way she greeted most -- there were no lords or ladies here, after all. So Olivia tried to adopt a more casual vernacular. She was almost a bit grateful that she could go back to a lexicon she was used.
Almost because this was someone she did not know. And possibly a woman of high birth, so her nerves were still on edge considerably. With trepidation and respect, Olivia approached the woman and spoke. "C-Could...I assist you, madam?"
