Ofelia watched the teenager for as long as she could. Her attention had finally drifted away from Audrey (Alys) and the woman eventually found herself taking in the second element of the equation: the younger Coulombe, the one who’d been here all along.
A small girl, and quiet. If Fee focused and tilted her head slightly, she wondered if she could see the familial resemblance between them. It had never been strong enough to raise any suspicions or set off any warning bells, however. Audrey had had an entire fifteen years to herself, free to run around underfoot and in Leila’s apartment and Ofelia’s office and on the streets.
Those days were now over.
And it was time to assess the sister of the girl Ofelia thought of as… well, as a younger sister. So she made her way over later in the evening, towards the pretty little thing in yellow (Juliette reminded her of a delicate canary).
“Good evening, miss Coulombe,” the stranger said. A pause, a reconsideration of her wording, and a smile. “Well. I suppose that makes two of you now.”
Juliette was becoming quite accustomed to being approached by strangers this evening. Generally, these sorts of events were parades of the same people in slightly different clothing, but this evening was a departure in almost every way. She wasn’t entirely certain how to feel about it (though perhaps she could admit, privately, that it was not quite as dull as the typical ball).
Still, miss?
Breeding took over, as it usually did when she was uncomfortable -- which was to say, nearly anytime she had to speak to a stranger -- and she nodded her head in greeting. “Good evening… madam.” She had defaulted to this form of address with Alys’ guildmates, and though this woman wasn’t one of the more outrageous attendees (just the thought of that woman in the powder room was still utterly bewildering), she was still very clearly not one of the invited nobility. “I... suppose it does.”
No need to carry on a sham. “My name is Ofelia,” she said, almost reaching her hand out for a shake (but then Hellena Zhou’s whiplash voice emerged from memory—no, that wasn’t the way to greet a noble, was it?). So instead, the older woman immediately detoured and turned it into a prim curtsey, with a flourish of her all-black dress.
“I knew your sister before she was your sister. I’m very glad to see the two of you reunited – though I hope it wasn’t too much of a shock?” she asked politely, her voice carefully neutral.
Before she was your sister. A curious way to phrase it -- hadn’t Alys always been her sister, even while neither of them had known? -- but Juliette only nodded again and said, “It is a pleasure to meet you.” At the very least, of the variety of bards present, this Ofelia seemed to have quite nice manners, and had not yet begun peppering her with highly personal questions.
Still, perhaps it was only a matter of time?
For now, she answered the first, deeming it innocuous: “It was a… pleasant shock. I had not dreamt that I might have family still alive. Today is a very happy occasion.” She longed to ask questions in turn -- if you knew her before, tell me of her; what is she like; what does she like; do you have any stories -- but these were not the sorts of questions one posed to a stranger. Instead, she said, “I am very glad that you could join us, as I am certain Alys is, as well.”