|Reagan Jennings could actually kill you. (ontherise) wrote in fairthreads,|
@ 2009-10-27 21:54:00
|Entry tags:||!complete, character: eleanore avellera, character: lady ismenia pole, location: the royal palace, player: jeanne, player: lisa|
Who: Ismenia and open!
Where: the palace
What: a character introduction... we'll see where it leads
The evening had been quite dull to Ismenia's tastes, though one would never know it to look at her. She smiled and laughed at exactly the right times, particularly when the queen made a joke, but her attention was only half on the entertainment. It wasn't that the musicians were particularly awful, exactly, but rather, Ismenia had little interest in the flowery songs of troubadours and minstrels, regardless of how talented they were. Not only did Ismenia have no real interest in love, courtly or otherwise, but, on the whole, it really left no room for any sort of action other than sitting and clapping politely, pausing only to laugh at the queen's jokes.
No, Ismenia was a young woman of action and, as such, she had little use for such idle pastimes. She had hoped the queen would call for dancing instead, something which at least gave Ismenia the opportunity to show herself to her best advantage. It was even better when she was able to dance with the male courtiers that sometimes accompanied the prince. After all, a good marriage was the ultimate goal and there was no better place to find one than at court.
But surely the men were asleep by now, Ismenia thought irritably, though she was careful to keep the irritability from her face as she glanced about the room. She was well-trained enough to keep her expression from giving away too much. Finally, unable to bear another moment, Ismenia politely asked the queen if she might be excused to use the privy, if only for a change of scenery. Fortunately, the queen, distracted as she was by the proceedings (which Ismenia could never hope to understand) nodded her consent and barely noticed when Ismenia gave a low curtsey and backed away from the dais.
Safely away from the throne, she whirled on her heel, almost barreling someone over in her hurry to escape.