Who: Juliette Coloumbe & Genevieve Albrecht What:Mother/daughter bonding Where: Starting at the guest house, ending at the Bazaar When: This morning! Rating: PG Status: Complete!
Juliette Coloumbe had turned seventeen the previous weekend, and had sat her class exam mere days ago. It had been decades since Genevieve had been that age, and she had no experience with the excruciating wait that candidates endured before hearing the results of their efforts, but she had had two elder brothers, both of whom had experienced what Juliette had, and she remembered, in great detail, the restlessness her brothers had exhibited. How they had needed distracting in order to focus on something that was not how many days, hours, minutes, seconds had passed since they’d left the guildhall, their fates in the hand of a select panel who could very well deem them not good enough.
She had meant to catch Juliette upon her return after the exam, but business had arisen that needed immediate attention, and she had not been able to intercept the girl throughout the week. Juliette was an early riser - unlike Alys - and so once Genevieve had awoken, showered and dressed, she made her way across the garden to the guest house, where the girls were staying. She affixed a pleasant smile upon her face and knocked.
And indeed, her assessment of Juliette’s hours was not inaccurate, for it was her youngest ward who answered the door, clad in an apron dusted with flour. Her own expression was confused, but the confusion melted into a hesitant smile almost immediately; the Countess almost never came here -- her way of ensuring the young women felt they could still have their privacy even in such a small space, Juliette suspected -- but her presence was always welcome. How could it not be, when she had done so much for them, after all.
“Good morning, Countess,” Juliette said, manners taking over immediately. “What a pleasant surprise. Won’t you please come in?” She backed away to give her unexpected visitor the opportunity to do exactly this, her voice soft as she said, “Alys is still abed -- shall I wake her?”
“Good morning, Juliette,” Genevieve replied, taking in the girl’s appearance. There was a streak of what appeared to be flour on her collarbone; a rather incongruous image of a young lady of noble birth, to be sure. It suited her. “I actually came to see you,” she continued, taking the invitation and entering. She rarely visited the guest house - she had gifted it to her wards, and therefore, though it remained on her property, she no longer considered it hers to do as she pleased with.
There were some personal touches scattered about, which pleased her. She had worried for some time that they would not settle in, and while this was by no means intended to be a permanent solution, she had wished for them to use the place as though it were their own.
“I had wondered if you had plans today?”
“None until the afternoon,” Juliette replied, leading the way into the house. Why was she the recipient of this unexpected call? She didn’t know, but she would be as good a hostess as she could, considering the circumstances, which were less than ideal. At least she had tea freshly brewed. No coffee, yet; it would be hours before Alys awoke if left to her own devices.
Her lack of plans was grating, in fact; she had clung to Lord Finch’s offer to shadow him as a sort of lifeline, but she was not due at the EKP offices until after lunch, and there were no classes to fill her days anymore. She could not take on work -- she was, for the moment, exempt from class. She could not meditate and run through kata indefinitely, though these activities certainly filled a few hours every day. What to do?
This morning’s answer was crêpes.
“I was… in the process of making breakfast,” she admitted after a pause; her appearance had already given her away, so there was no use in attempting to hide it. “Would you like to join me? Not in cooking, of course,” she said quickly, turning a little pink. “I am nearly finished.”
Genevieve laughed. “I had thought to invite you out to breakfast. I have been meaning to take you out, as I did not have the chance to celebrate your birthday or your exam with you, but however could I resist your cooking?” She smiled at the girl kindly. “If you do not mind, of course.”
It had not occurred to her that Juliette would have prepared her own breakfast, but no matter. If she was free until afternoon, there were plenty of other things that could be done prior to the girl’s outstanding engagement. “Perhaps after breakfast we could go to the bazaar? Many of the businesses are beginning their Founders sales early.”
Juliette almost apologized for derailing her plans, but then, she hadn’t known of them. “I do not think my cooking is… particularly fine, but thank you for the compliment. I hope you will enjoy it.” She busied herself in the kitchen -- she would simply have to put something else together for Alys, or else leave her sister’s breakfast to Ms Han when the housekeeper returned from the market.
The crepes were strawberry and cream -- indulgent, but Alys preferred the sweet ones, and it wasn’t as though Juliette anticipated being kicked in the stomach over the course of the next few hours. Why not indulge a bit? (It was either distraction or going slowly mad; she chose the former.)
Breakfast thus served and a second teacup fetched, she said, “That sounds like a pleasant way to spend the morning, if you are not too busy.” Which was a silly thing to say, considering the Countess had invited her, but old habits were dying hard (it annoyed Alys, she thought, when she said things like this, so she was trying not to do it). “The festival is always exciting. Would you like to shop for anything in particular?”
Genevieve sweetened her tea. “I had thought to let you pick out your birthday present,” she mused. She had not yet gotten Juliette anything - she had a niece of a similar age, but Elayne and Juliette were as different as night and day. Elayne preferred the luxuries of life and was content to live a life of leisure; Juliette was hard working and oft appeared ill at ease in the extravagant dresses of the nobility. She seemed far more at ease like this, with flour streaked upon her and in simple clothing.
Before she took a sip of her tea, she cut a small piece of the crepe and tasted it; it was good. A bit sweet for her tastes, but well made nonetheless. “You are a far better cook than I could ever hope to be,” she complimented.
“It is… a relaxing pastime for me.” She never had found it a means of calming herself, the way Lord Finch had claimed, but it was certainly an exercise in precision which helped to distract. Sometimes, that was good enough. And perhaps, there was something particularly appealing about doing something functionally useful that could be tangibly appreciated by others. “I am glad you find it palatable.”
She took her own tea, added a bit of honey as she murmured, “You have already given me so much.” Even before her life had changed, Countess Albrecht had been an influence for the better. “It feels wrong to ask for anything else,” she added, still looking into her teacup.
“Ah, but you are not asking. I am offering.” It was a distinct difference, especially in Genevieve’s world; one oft implied a favor returned. She simply wanted Juliette’s happiness, and to achieve such an end, frivolous gifts were freely given. “One ought to expect gifts on the occasion of their birth, after all.”
“It would be rude to refuse such a kind offer,” Juliette said, sipping at her tea. She would pick something small, then, and that would assuage her own guilt for taking more than she could give. She had many lessons to learn yet from the Countess -- about graciousness first and foremost. “After breakfast, then.”
Genevieve smiled and inclined her head. “How did your exam go?” If Juliette did not wish to discuss it, that was fine; she remembered her siblings going on about every detail. It had seemed to calm them as they went through each step of the process, recounting their movements.
She took another small bite of her crepe - much more palatable when not drenched in the cream.
“Not too badly, I think,” Juliette said. She had, in fact, been thinking of this in one way or another almost without pause. Had it gone all right? “Lord Finch seemed confident that the results would be positive. I suppose only time will tell.”
And time, at the present moment, was making her terribly antsy. She had never felt such impatience.
It was a measure of her comfort with her guest that she added, “I wish they would tell me, one way or the other. I have never done well with… not knowing.”
“They will tell you in time,” she comforted the girl, “though I can extend some measure of sympathy. I have never been good at waiting to hear news, good or bad.” It had driven her mother mad when she was younger, the constant pestering to know absolutely everything. Olena had prayed she would grow out of it, but it became worse as time wore on.
Until she was told news she did not want to hear.
She was much better at patience now.
“Perhaps our outing this morning will allow you a pleasant distraction,” she added. What little was left of the crepe was finished and she sipped at her tea.
“I am certain it will. I always enjoy the opportunity to spend time with you.” It was easily said, not even a white lie but the truth. What she didn’t say was that she felt a measure of comfort in knowing they had a flaw in common -- so often, the Countess seemed to lack those, to be an example nearly impossible to follow. It helped to know that someone so composed worried, too, much as Juliette herself did.
“Would you be so kind as to excuse me for a few minutes before we depart?” She rarely wore dresses now except to mass, but she thought she ought to make at least some effort today, for the Countess’ own clothing was, as always, elegant. She ought at least ensure there was no flour upon her person before departing.
Genevieve shook her head. “Of course. Do take your time.” Juliette nodded and took her leave while Genevieve finished her tea. It was always strange, her interactions with this girl. There seemed to be so much more to her than the proper lady that society wished for her to be. It was interesting, and she wished to help Juliette grow into who she wished to be as opposed to what society dictated she should be.
It was while she was musing over what Juliette planned to do with her future - she did not doubt the girl would have passed her exam, and so her path as a fighter was certain - that Juliette returned. Her clothing was more suited to her station, but not ostentatiously so; still, Genevieve had thought she’d looked quite comfortable in what she had been wearing previously. The older woman stood and smiled. “Shall we?”
They went out, Juliette having scribbled a brief note to Alys and another to Ms. Han. The young woman was unsurprised to find a hovercar waiting at the gate; she would not, in fact, have been surprised to discover that the driver had waited on them all throughout breakfast. She followed the older woman into the plush interior of the car with its faint smell of leather and tinted windows. She usually just took the crystals -- there were lines sometimes, certainly, but they were quick enough -- but this conveyance would get them to where they were going in far more comfort and style.
She waited for the Countess to provide direction to the driver before she asked, “Are you looking forward to the festival? This… will be the first year where I am able to explore at will. I am looking forward to it.” And it would hopefully keep her mind occupied. Then, next week would come before she knew it, in with it, an answer.
Genevieve rearranged her skirts, silently musing that she should have simply worn trousers; she was due to go to the Duckling after this, to prepare the inventory for the inevitable upwards bend of sales that Founders often brought. “Yes,” she said in answer to Juliette’s question. “I shall spend most of it at the tavern, but I do plan to see the play and attend the ball.” It was practically tradition at this point. “I daresay that I have outdone myself with Duke Reinholdt’s waistcoat this year.” She smiled enigmatically, recalling the utterly atrocious item of clothing.
“Have you plans with friends?” she asked after a moment. “You ought to take the time to enjoy yourself while you can. It is all too soon that we grow up.” Which was actually a rather nice segue. “I have been meaning to ask, what plans do you have for your future? I wish to help in whatever way I can.”
“Some,” she said; then clarified, “plans with friends.” More than she had for her future, truly…
But if she couldn’t trust this woman, she could trust no one; she hated to burden Alys with this considering her current state of affairs, and who else was there, really? It was a long drive to the Bazaar. “I hope that I will have the opportunity to work my way up in the guild.” A pause, then, quietly, “Assuming Lord Norwood does not object, nor has other plans for me.” A heavy worry, this one; with the Countess, she felt fairly assured of her freedom, but she simply did not know her sister’s intended husband well enough.
She placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I would not worry about Lord Norwood’s intentions,” she assured her. Miles Baines would be a dead man long before he could arrange anything aside from lodging for Juliette. “I am certain he wishes only for your happiness, in whatever form that may be.” And if he did not now, he certainly would soon.
“As for the guild, have you aspirations of Council?” It was some ways off, but she would not put it past Juliette to already be considering it. “Or perhaps one of the groups contained within the Guild?”
“Oh,” Juliette said, a bit flustered, “I would not presume to think of council; in a decade, perhaps I will be able to answer such a question.” A decade seemed a lifetime to a girl of seventeen. As for other groups…
“I have a few thoughts,” she said slowly, “though… for now, my plans are only to improve. I… do not think either the Knights of the Peace or the Rangers would suit me. Perhaps I might teach a little, in time.” All while improving her skills until she could chase her actual dream, which still seemed too nebulous and far away. “Given time, perhaps I may aspire to… something else. I… did not have much opportunity to consider aspirations prior to this past summer; it was always the expectation that I would marry this year, or next, once my…” temper had cooled “training had concluded.”
It was more than she had said to anyone else, even Lord Finch, but she felt compelled to keep going; looking up at her companion, she said, “I hope you are right about Lord Norwood’s aims. I know that Alys has chosen to marry but I do not wish for a husband. Nor any other manner of… entanglement,” she added; it was certain that the Countess had heard something about Seloria Cassul, but Juliette wished to entertain a romance with her about as much as she wished to entertain one with anyone at all -- it fell somewhere on the scale between facing a behemoth unarmed and entering a burning building.
“Teaching is a respectable profession,” Genevieve remarked, pleased that Juliette had already begun to think this far ahead. “As for marriage, if it is not something you wish for yourself, then I do not believe that Alys would force it upon you.”
Juliette looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. “I hope you are right about this, too,” she said. “Though… this would perhaps be another case of her being kinder to me than she is to herself.”
She refrained from commenting on Audrey’s kindness - as far as Genevieve knew, Juliette did not know of anything that had happened leading to Alys’ return, nor was she aware of the true details of her sister’s upcoming nuptials. Kindness or callousness, she could not decide, but ultimately it was none of her business.
The hovercar stopped, signalling their arrival. “Well, shall we?”
Juliette smiled and told her, “Yes,” then followed her out of the car. For this morning, distraction seemed assured.