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Léon Belmont (ex_the_ambas216) wrote in toujoursliberer,
@ 2008-03-28 07:54:00

Entry tags:

ambassadors_ball, leon_belmont

An Invitation to the French Ambassador's Ball
Subject: The Ambassadors Ball
Where: The French Embassy
Who: Léon Belmont, the French Ambassador to the English court
Warnings: none as yet
Open to: All (all players may attend either as invited guests of the ambassador, as servants or guests of those invited, as staff, or as gate-crashers.)

The ballroom of the Embassy was already growing busy, and when Citizen Belmont paused for a moment besides one of the large windows, he could see yet more carriages pulling up outside, wreathed in the mist blowing in from the river.

The quartet had been playing now for a good half an hour, new French tunes as well as those the English favoured. His staff was busy handing out good French wine, and then refilling those glasses when they were drained.

It was going to be a good evening, and not only in the eyes of the party-goers. With some of England’s most prominent aristos on the guest list, and some than some newly arrived French nationals, tonight would be a night of information gathering, of sizing up the opposition, and perhaps even ensuring some of those French escapees were returned to face justice.

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madame_margot
2008-04-01 02:37 pm UTC (link)

Marguerite gracefully descended from her carriage with the help of a footman, sweeping her gaze over the sumptuous Embassy building. It might not have been Paris, but it was close enough that she could brave the presence of traitors in her husband's stead. It was his privilege to claim illness to shrug his responsibilities, but far be it for her to do the same.

A wife's role came with sacrifices of a certain nature. And if those sacrifices entailed parties where she was liable to glimpse old friends and make new ones, well, there was no shirking her duties.

Passing through the foyer, she shrugged off her cape into the waiting hands of a servant. Her dress couldn't have been more English and were it not for accent, she might even have passed for a native. As it was, she made no effort to deny her roots--not even when faced with the infamous Ambassador.

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ex_the_ambas216
2008-04-19 06:45 am UTC (link)

Infamous or not, the Ambassador had his own duty to preform to those arriving guests, and no-less to than to Madame York. "Marguerite, I am glad to see you again. But your husband? Is he unwell?" He asked, already quite aware that Baron York left his wife to do much of the social leg-work that he himself did not wish to address.

"Perhaps I could offer you some champagne?" He asks, as one of his staff stops close-by with the tray. "As a little taste of home?"

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	mercedes_dupont 2008-04-19 10:01 am UTC (link)
	"Madame York!" Mercedes grins widely, happy to see a familiar and friendly face in the room. "How are you, Madame?" He asks, bowing low as he did on their first meeting, taking her hand and brushing his lips against pale skin. "May I say you look magnificent this evening, my dear lady? Is your husband not here to stop anyone from stealing you away?" (Replies frozen) (Parent) (Thread)