Subject: Dinnertime. Who: Thérèse du Labarre. Where: Dining room, Christopher's estate. Warnings: None. Open to: Christopher Blake.
For the first time in weeks, Thérèse wasn't wearing black.
She felt foreign in a colour, actually. She was unused to it. Every time she looked down, she had to do a double take. Her dress was a light lilac, almost a cream, and had pretty embroidery over the bodice. Not the plain mourning gown she was used to. But this wasn't an evening for sitting around and moping about Julien. This evening, she was to have dinner with the Lord.
She was looking forward to it. Christopher was a sweetheart, and she was looking forward to just sitting and having dinner and talking. She wanted to look her best, too, hence the new, pretty dress, and the way her hair was set in a simple but attractive updo, little flowers dotted through the dark curls. Forget-me-nots. How apt.
It was nearly eight, so she checked herself in the mirror, making sure she was nearly ready. A few last additions - a pair of drop earrings and her rosary around her neck - and she was done, opening the door and making her way downstairs to the dining hall. There, she paused, before knocking on the door and stepping inside. "Is my presence required yet?" She asked quietly, looking around for a sign of life.