Juliette Coulombe (clearyourmind) wrote in emillion, |
Uniform pressed, badges hung appropriately, Ceres’ eyes would not leave the King’s form until the man had disappeared from view. Only then did she drop from a stance of proper militaristic attention to something - supposedly - more relaxed. Having not taken up such position in over a year caused her shoulder to twinge, a faint memory of the injury which drove her from the force, and deepened the frown, and narrowing of eyes. Her former superiors continued their positions, her former comrades continued their duties, and somehow she still couldn’t help but feel anything other than anger, and a faint hint of disdain welling up inside of her. With a practiced turn, Ceres headed out for the garden. If there was any chance of really keeping an eye on the King, even if only from a distance, that certainly would be the place she’d need to go. Gloved fingers caused a squeak against the peace tied gunblade which hung at her side. She’d get them back someday, she would. Although Juliette rarely found herself too bothered by the cold, especially while covered with a cashmere, fur-trimmed wrap, after nearly an hour of wandering the ice sculptures, she was beginning to feel the chill through the soles of her shoes if nothing else. Perhaps it was time to brave the crowds once more. With that thought in mind, she turned herself in the direction of the palace once more, intending to leave the cordoned-off area of the grounds to rejoin the fete. She traveled the well-lit paths, nodding greetings to those she recognized, but one person in particular had her stopping in her tracks. Oh. Oh. The uniform seemed to suit the woman as though she had been born wearing it. And everything immediately fell into place -- of course this woman had insisted she was doing everything wrong. (Never -- she was never going to be good enough; it was terribly humiliating to realise that a member of the Kingsguard had been the one to correct her foolish errors.) She offered a polite nod, almost a bow, far more polite than she ought to have done, perhaps. “Good evening.” Perhaps, if she was lucky, the woman would not connect the girl in the red dress to the awkward squire of a few weeks past (whose gaze lingered on her uniform just a bit too long with something that looked a great deal like longing). If it weren’t for the speaking up, Ceres would have walked right by the girl without ever recognizing she was there at all. However, the girl did, and it caused a narrowing of eyes. Something seemed familiar, but what precisely, she wasn’t sure yet. “Evening.” The response was short, and while she stopped - it was only polite to talk, especially when in uniform - the woman’s eyes roamed, trying to seek out the King wherever he may be at this time. “Enjoying the evening?” While it was far from her cup of tea to continue talking, it was polite, and if she was going to help maintain the reputation of the KingsGuard, she would always, always do what was required of her, even if it killed her. “Yes, thank you.” No recognition seemed to dawn on the woman’s face, which was really for the best. “I hope you will do the same.” The woman seemed distracted. This appeared to be the perfect moment to escape back into the palace. Perhaps she would hide in the powder room awhile, until she stopped feeling quite so foolish. With another nod, she turned once more towards the lights of the palace. It took only a little effort to walk at a gentle, unhurried pace and not look back. “Thank you.” A bow of Ceres head would be offered in response to the girl before her, something still ticking away in the back of her head, a faint recognition even if she wasn’t sure how or why. It was nearly enough to drive one mad. Though it would appear the girl was more than willing to scamper off. To what? Ceres had not a clue, yet at the same time, she didn’t entirely care. There were more important things still to do. |