Tolen Mar
First Post
Chapter 1: Charity's beginning.
“The guests have all arrived, ma’am.”
“Thank you Marchaunt. Would you please see to it that there is enough wine to go around, please?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Countess Veranese projected an image of calm, cool dignity. It was an illusion projected over seething turmoil of anger. This ball was being held in her grand-daughters honor. It was tonight that her marriage to Baron Jean de Seguzzo would be announced. There would be merry-making, dancing, more than a few drunken guests, all celebrating the joining of both families, building up a more powerful voice within the council of the people.
Except that Charity wasn’t here.
The countess made her way to the grand staircase that dominated the ballroom, intent on finding the girl, and dragging her down here by her ears if need be. As she started climbing the steps, a youthful, moderately attractive young man stepped out of the crowd. He was tall, and wore the military uniform of a captain of Mala. It was immaculately pressed, with his medals in exactly the proper place. He was holding two tall narrow wine glasses, each half full.
“Countess Veranese?” He called.
She stopped, reapplied her veneer of calm, and turned.
“Yes Baron?” She asked, smiling.
“I first want to compliment you on the proceedings thus far. This event will be the talk of the people for some time to come.”
“Thank you. I do try.”
“This wine, though. I thought they only made this in the city of the dead, how did you come by it?”
“Now, Baron, I must have a few secrets from you.”
“Of course.” He said, smiling. “Have you seen Charity? I have been looking for her all over, and the time for our announcement draws near.”
The countess’ smile slipped momentarily. “She’ll be along soon. No doubt there is an issue with her gown. I was about to see to the problem myself. If you’ll excuse me?”
“Why don’t I accompany you? After all, would it not be appropriate to be seen together when we return?”
Her smile didn’t change, but the thoughts behind it did. Her answer was cold, but the Baron seemed not to have noticed. “Of course.” She said. Then she turned up the stairs, with the Baron in tow.
Charity cinched up the belt that held her rapier, then left the note atop the ballgown her grandmother had wanted her to wear. She turned toward the window, and as she did so, she passed the mirror. She did not look like a noblewoman at the moment. She was wearing black pants that hugged every curve, a simple white shirt that might have looked more appropriate on a man, and a red vest. If anything, she looked like an adventurer.
Downstairs, the ball was getting underway. Her grandmother wouldn’t wait long before coming to see why she wasn’t down there. She had to move quickly. She knew what she was doing, she had snuck out of this bedroom hundreds of times. She put out the candles, then opened the curtains, and opened the glass windows. The sea breeze wafted in, smelling more to her like freedom than ever before. She climbed out on the ledge.
There was a great oak in the courtyard, its branches stretched out over the wall of the manor house. She had used it to go out on the town in the past, now it was her gateway to her future. She balanced along the ledge until she was next to the tree, and started preparing to jump. It was a good ten feet to the longest branches. The breeze picked up and blew a few strands of her hair into her face. She cursed, wishing she had thought to bind the curled red locks out of the way. Then she jumped.
There was hardly a sound as she caught the first branch with both hands, and swung up onto the next. A few minutes later, she was over the wall and heading for the docks.
“Charity!” grandmother yelled from down the hall. She was so furious by now that her determined motion made it difficult for the baron to keep up. She rounded on the door, pounding it with her fist. The Baron, trying to remain dignified, adjusted his uniform, and stood closely by.
“Charity, you come out this minute!”
When there was no answer, she tried to turn the handles. She cursed again, they were of course locked. The servants, hearing a commotion had rallied themselves together, and before she could even think of shouting for the keys, one of them appeared, and unlocked the door.
The room was dark. The moonlight poured in through the open window, and played over the curtains as they danced in the breeze. The servant who had the key entered and began lighting candles.
“Where could that girl be?” she asked no one in particular. The servant brought her a candle and an envelope. It was unmarked aside for the word ‘Grandmother’ on the front. She wasted little time in opening it, and what she read made her anger boil over.
“Should I tell the guests the party has been postponed, ma’am?” The servant asked.
“You’ll do no such thing!” She turned to the Baron. “It looks like your announcement shall have to wait, Baron. Ungrateful child! She has too much of her mother in her.”
The countess, reassembled her calm smiling façade, and went to see to her guests, to try to convince them that everything was all right. As she left, she casually dropped the note.
While the servant returned the room to its former state, Jean picked up the letter, and read.
Grandmother,
I know this will make you furious, but I have decided I will not marry the man you have chosen for me. I am too young to be tied down. I am leaving to seek my fortune. Do not come looking for me. Tell Faith I love her.
I love you as well, though you may not be able to see it,
Charity.
“The guests have all arrived, ma’am.”
“Thank you Marchaunt. Would you please see to it that there is enough wine to go around, please?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Countess Veranese projected an image of calm, cool dignity. It was an illusion projected over seething turmoil of anger. This ball was being held in her grand-daughters honor. It was tonight that her marriage to Baron Jean de Seguzzo would be announced. There would be merry-making, dancing, more than a few drunken guests, all celebrating the joining of both families, building up a more powerful voice within the council of the people.
Except that Charity wasn’t here.
The countess made her way to the grand staircase that dominated the ballroom, intent on finding the girl, and dragging her down here by her ears if need be. As she started climbing the steps, a youthful, moderately attractive young man stepped out of the crowd. He was tall, and wore the military uniform of a captain of Mala. It was immaculately pressed, with his medals in exactly the proper place. He was holding two tall narrow wine glasses, each half full.
“Countess Veranese?” He called.
She stopped, reapplied her veneer of calm, and turned.
“Yes Baron?” She asked, smiling.
“I first want to compliment you on the proceedings thus far. This event will be the talk of the people for some time to come.”
“Thank you. I do try.”
“This wine, though. I thought they only made this in the city of the dead, how did you come by it?”
“Now, Baron, I must have a few secrets from you.”
“Of course.” He said, smiling. “Have you seen Charity? I have been looking for her all over, and the time for our announcement draws near.”
The countess’ smile slipped momentarily. “She’ll be along soon. No doubt there is an issue with her gown. I was about to see to the problem myself. If you’ll excuse me?”
“Why don’t I accompany you? After all, would it not be appropriate to be seen together when we return?”
Her smile didn’t change, but the thoughts behind it did. Her answer was cold, but the Baron seemed not to have noticed. “Of course.” She said. Then she turned up the stairs, with the Baron in tow.
Charity cinched up the belt that held her rapier, then left the note atop the ballgown her grandmother had wanted her to wear. She turned toward the window, and as she did so, she passed the mirror. She did not look like a noblewoman at the moment. She was wearing black pants that hugged every curve, a simple white shirt that might have looked more appropriate on a man, and a red vest. If anything, she looked like an adventurer.
Downstairs, the ball was getting underway. Her grandmother wouldn’t wait long before coming to see why she wasn’t down there. She had to move quickly. She knew what she was doing, she had snuck out of this bedroom hundreds of times. She put out the candles, then opened the curtains, and opened the glass windows. The sea breeze wafted in, smelling more to her like freedom than ever before. She climbed out on the ledge.
There was a great oak in the courtyard, its branches stretched out over the wall of the manor house. She had used it to go out on the town in the past, now it was her gateway to her future. She balanced along the ledge until she was next to the tree, and started preparing to jump. It was a good ten feet to the longest branches. The breeze picked up and blew a few strands of her hair into her face. She cursed, wishing she had thought to bind the curled red locks out of the way. Then she jumped.
There was hardly a sound as she caught the first branch with both hands, and swung up onto the next. A few minutes later, she was over the wall and heading for the docks.
“Charity!” grandmother yelled from down the hall. She was so furious by now that her determined motion made it difficult for the baron to keep up. She rounded on the door, pounding it with her fist. The Baron, trying to remain dignified, adjusted his uniform, and stood closely by.
“Charity, you come out this minute!”
When there was no answer, she tried to turn the handles. She cursed again, they were of course locked. The servants, hearing a commotion had rallied themselves together, and before she could even think of shouting for the keys, one of them appeared, and unlocked the door.
The room was dark. The moonlight poured in through the open window, and played over the curtains as they danced in the breeze. The servant who had the key entered and began lighting candles.
“Where could that girl be?” she asked no one in particular. The servant brought her a candle and an envelope. It was unmarked aside for the word ‘Grandmother’ on the front. She wasted little time in opening it, and what she read made her anger boil over.
“Should I tell the guests the party has been postponed, ma’am?” The servant asked.
“You’ll do no such thing!” She turned to the Baron. “It looks like your announcement shall have to wait, Baron. Ungrateful child! She has too much of her mother in her.”
The countess, reassembled her calm smiling façade, and went to see to her guests, to try to convince them that everything was all right. As she left, she casually dropped the note.
While the servant returned the room to its former state, Jean picked up the letter, and read.
Grandmother,
I know this will make you furious, but I have decided I will not marry the man you have chosen for me. I am too young to be tied down. I am leaving to seek my fortune. Do not come looking for me. Tell Faith I love her.
I love you as well, though you may not be able to see it,
Charity.
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