RP:Sewing Scandal
Summary: Cynarith helps Vee become Madame Veronica.
Hazelbend Chateau
Along the avenue, nestled amidst two other prominent homes, stands the opulent Hazelbend Chateau, a testament to the wealth and power of its well-to-do occupant. Its towering spires reach towards the heavens, adorned with intricate carvings and gilded accents that catch the sunlight at dawn. A grand courtyard paved with marble greets visitors, leading them to the colossal oak doors adorned with golden crests. Inside, a labyrinth of halls boasts tapestries depicting epic battles and chandeliers dripping with crystal. The great hall, with its vaulted ceilings and roaring hearth, hosts extravagant feasts where the ton of society mingle amidst lavish furnishings and fine art. Beyond lies the lush gardens, where exotic blooms perfume the air and fountains dance with enchanted waters. Hazelbend Chateau stands as a symbol of luxury and prestige in Elimdor, a beacon of extravagance.
Cynarith had finished an afternoon ride with one of her prized equines, it seems she’s been having to ride a little more often these last few days, but some outdoor time with her favorite mare does wonders. As usual, the day has been a dreary one with an overcast threatening to rain, but that’s just typical Vale. While she is enjoying her luncheon in the solarium, she excitedly thumbs through another scandal sheet of the society papers. Footmen casually chat with the chauffeurs at the entrance of the chateau and at the ready to welcome any visitor with respect no matter what walk of life. Potential guests are ushered within the grand halls and allowed to wait for the woman of the house in the drawing room. Warm tea, ice cold water, finger sandwiches and sweets are available on the small dining table for anyone’s enjoyment.
Verah had not stepped foot in Elimdor in quite some time, and of course, the half elf is only drawn as the stranger she had met in Cenril, had her name plastered in the Elimdor newspaper. The blonde dresses the part of the wealthy society she steps foot in, and of course, the desert elf does not hold back from fashion as she is adorned in burgundy today with a delicate rose-patterned fabric. Her long hair is pinned half-up in the latest up-dos to fit in with the ton. She is a flowing silhouette as she steadily comes across the Hazelbend Chateau. Talk spreads like wildfire, afterall. She comes across a chauffeur at the entrance, where she politely curtsies to make a potential visit. “Lady Vee of,” of what, Verah? “Sea La Vie.” The Chartsend inn, Verah? Really? Mentally, she is cringing, as she really did not have a full title as a nomad--a lack of social status but a simple greedy con artist. She, however, is hoping that with Cynarith hearing her name, she will be granted a visit in the prestige home.
Cynarith is entirely unaware of a visitor to Hazelbend, so she continues to enjoy some tea. The chauffeur looks towards the footman with an expression of bewilderment since the woman does not have a carriage or mode of transportation for him to look after- he is confused as to why such a regal and pretty woman is talking to him, but the footman kindly smiles at the woman while approaching her. “Welcome, Lady Vee of Sea La Vie. Do you wish for an audience with the lady of the house, Cynarith?” He asks just in case maybe the lady is at the wrong residence. It wouldn’t be the first time! As soon as she confirms this is why she is here, one of the other footmen disappears into the home to inform Cynarith while the one with Vee bows to her respectfully before leading the way inside, “this way, ma’am.” The path to the drawing room isn’t overly long, but they pass through a gallery of fine paintings and a large sitting area by a sizable ornate fireplace. Once inside the drawing room, the footman instructs Vee, “please, have a seat and enjoy some refreshments. Lady Cynarith shall be with you shortly.” A matter of five minutes pass before the pastel haired woman enters the drawing room with a radiant smile, “Lady Vee.” She pauses for a moment with hands in the dips of her slender waist to get an eyeful of the woman in an appreciative manner, “well I certainly feel underdressed, my dear.” Her tan riding slacks hug every curve of her legs and are tucked into brown knee high riding boots. She smooths her hands over her cream colored riding jacket which is covering a slimming black turtleneck undershirt. “Welcome to Hazelbend, how was your trip in?” Of course she is dying to know what brings her here of all places, but patience is a virtue and she has manners!
Verah has a lot to learn when it comes to Elimdor society, but she keeps an amused smirk on her face as she talks to the man. “That’s the lady I seek,” she confirms before gracefully following behind him. Her back is straighter, and her expression is quizzical as she makes her way through the magnificent abode. The gallery has her captivated, and there is an urge to stop, but she knows she must continue on for the real reason she was there to visit today. The half elf always dazzled herself up, so for her, it was nothing new. Fashion and accessories were what she lived for. A soft smile touches her features and she nods politely to the footman before looking around the drawing room. She double-glances at the chair before backpedaling to take a seat. Caramel eyes take in the surroundings and atmosphere of it all before Cynarith catches her attention. She stands in greeting with a nod. A sly smile plays on her lips. “What do you mean? You look like a professional rider.” Pause. “You’ll find that I’m always dressed to impress. A walking product of what I create,” she brushes over the fabric of her outfit before circling around the room. “My trip was nostalgic. I haven’t set foot in Elimdor in quite some time. I now have a reason to come, though curiosity drew me here.” She takes a glance with a knowing little smile. “Lady Wysandantris sure was an entertaining read. A power couple with a certain Viscount.”
Cynarith blushes and waves her hands as if embarrassed at the flattery, but of course she loves it, "oh, please Lady Vee." She pours both of them tea and lowers herself down in the sitting chair at the table, "cream, sugar, lemon?" Turquoise hues are set on the fashionable fabrics as the woman circles around the room, "you made that dress? Positively lovely. You rival my own brother, Tyres. Once upon a time I used to model for his creations, but years ago he moved to the tropical islands of Beresnora with his husband," she is obviously quite proud of her successful brother. "Is that so? Do you mind if I ask you what reason it is that brings you to Elimdor?" Cynarith perks up at the mention of Lady Wysandantris, the scandal sheets! "Oh, right. That," a soft chuckle follows with an eye roll. "I'd love to really give the gossipers something to talk about. Maybe sniff out the actual 'Lady Wysandantris' if there really even is one," she concludes with a single raised brow while sipping her tea. "And the Viscount is just another well-bred arm to offer me during these many events over the social season. There will be another before the next season begins," the admission comes to even her own surprise. Of course she truly feels that way, but she has never admitted as such so openly to a perfect stranger. "Excuse me, Lady Vee. I am not entirely sure why I just told you that," but she doesn't seem too concerned about it in the least as she relaxes a little more in her chair. "I have a feeling you're not here to gossip about my love life, though… Are you Lady Vee?"
Verah’s lips pull in one corner as Cynarith admires the dress. There is a thought brewing in her mind on why she is actually here today, but she takes her time as she lowers down in her seat across from the woman. “Lemon and sugar would be nice.” There is a moment's pause for tea to be poured. “Living with the person you love is great, but why would he move away from you? Husband’s choice?” Though, there was now a peak of interest that Cynarith’s brother was absent from the picture. Well, at least the Elimdor picture. “You talk of being on a man’s arm like there is no interest. How could you be so sure how a man really feels? Especially in a stiff social air? You’re telling me you have no true suitors? I beg to differ. Lady Wysandantris really knows how to stir the pot. It would be quite the scandal to figure out who the true woman is, but that’ll come with time, I’m sure. The season has only begun, it seems for you.” Brown eyes reflect over the pastel pink-haired acquaintance. The blonde leans in. “Between you and I, I am quite the sucker for a good romance, and what you tell me will be our little secret.” Verah did not know why she felt a comfortable connection here. To hold what was being said between two ladies. Normally all Verah was good for was backstabbing and being a faulty woman. A liar. Legs cross as she sips on her tea before carefully placing it back down on the tiny platter. “You already can see right through me,” she says this playfully, but perhaps the half elf wanted Cynarith to dig. “You spoke of your brother vaguely the last time I met you. You were so interested in my jewelry and wares, and it seems the season is bustling. I figured with someone as classy as you, well, why wouldn’t others take interest in my designs? A ‘seamstress’, or perhaps the term ‘modiste’ seems a more common tongue around these parts.”
Cynarith fixes Vee's tea exactly as directed and then sips her own in unison with the woman. "Well, all four of my siblings have strong passions and strive to make names for themselves all over the globe. Even though his husband is from one of the islands along that particular chain, Tyres decided to move there mainly because his designs are wildly popular here. Lithrydel is a little more conservative when it comes to fashion, especially here in Elimdor. They are absolutely thriving in the cove as they recently built their own luxurious home and adopted a pair of lovely half-elven children. Just the perfect little happy family," Cynarith practically coos with genuine happiness for her brother. Vee's questioning on the male psyche causes that subtle smile to spread into a smirk, "I have squirmed and shoved my way into a male driven world of business while constantly ensuring there is room for not only me, but all driven females like me. I've been a mouse in the den of snakes for over fifty years now and know all too well how men in this society think or how they expect us women to behave. I do believe in romance as well and the idea of having a true love for others, but I have been there. Done that. Been burned and lessons learned. It just isn't in the cards for everyone and I have come to accept that, Lady Vee. Marriage is a business here and I am already wealthier than many of the prospects here- it is merely a higher social status I seek these days," the awfully sad truth is spoken plainly with a subtle shrug.
Never again will she let a man take advantage of her! Unfortunately, Viscount Reyfaren is a cretin, but she would be a fool to ignore where his connections could take her this season. The matter at hand turns to something that interests her more than planning balls, garden parties or charity events, it is the prospect of business. Cynarith can feel a comfortable connection as well even though she isn't the backstabbing type herself, Cynarith isn't usually so open and lives comfortably behind a mask. This is something different entirely, a partner in business, in 'crime' and deception. The secret saurian has set her tea down and leans a little over the table as her honeyed timbre lowers a little to a near whisper, "you wish to become a new luminous modiste of the ton?" Coyness shapes her lush lips as a subtle twinkle glitters in her turquoise hues, "I am a silent patron to small start-up business and I'd love to set you up for success, but I wonder if you'd be interested in helping me in a different way," she allows a pregnant pause to ensure she has Vee's full attention. "You confide in me and only be of any gossip divulged to you or in your presence. You see, the women of the ton do love their gossip, but they aren't always so aware of those in the service industry which hold up this delicate society." With her arm extending across the table for a solidifying handshake, she asks, "do we have a deal?"
Verah listens attentively to her opposite company–learning more about the family of the disguised dragon before her. “Sounds like every person’s dream. The marriage, the children, a successful business. Good for him,” she nods. She then smirks at the feminist approach in the field of construction. “You do not see a lot of women regarding handiwork, and I’m sure it’s thriving, clearly.” Her eyes glance around the room. “Marriage is a business arrangement in Elimdor? Marry wealthy? Marry well? Well, what’s the fun in that. Is there ever -true- love?” It was a sad thought, but although Verah was a hopeless romantic, she was also a sabotage princess and understood the social gain that came. She sips on her tea idly as she listens and her brows raise as she leans over the table. A small sly smile peeks from under the cup before she slowly lowers the cup down. Business. She knew that coy look well. Intrigue. Though, greed always came with a price. The two women knew each other well in that sense. The same values. The talk of gossip comes to play and there is an amused dance in brown eyes. The pretty half elf bends a shoulder in playfulness as she contemplates the request. The girl was a sucker for information. A sucker for toxic gossip. A listener to hold information for future scandals.
Honestly, if Verah had a chance to meet Lady Wysandantris, she would make herself the right-hand to that kind of power with a quill. “Interesting. And what would gossip do of service to you? Clearly your status is so high, and you are put on a pretty pedestal right now with the Viscount.” She puckers her lips in contemplation. Cynarith would know what the answer is already. Of course Verah would abide, especially when there was already such a strong dynamic between their acquaintanceship. “I do like a good tea talk.” A smile grows on painted lips. “You know me, you have a deal. Anyone I should look out for in particular that strikes your fancy?”
Cynarith shrugs at Vee's questioning of how love works in the ton, "rarely there is a love match, but most are resigned to growing their fortunes. Of course they find things to love about each other as time goes on, but I honestly don't have much time to concern myself with such," if that wasn't obvious by the list on her business card. "Why, are -you- looking for a love match?" That coy grin returns, doubting she will get an honest response to that question. "An edge is what it will do for me, dear Vee. Women know more than they let on about their husband's business and finances so I can know who is in financial trouble. You see, I've been burned a few times with bad deals from some of these 'gentlemen'," she stands now and holds a hand out to take Vee's as she helps her guest to their feet- much like a gentleman would to a lady. "Come with me," Cynarith's honeyed timbre instructs while leading Vee out of the drawing room through the maze of halls until they reach her library. A wonderful two story room with a cozy fireplace, wet bar and ethereal seeming tree which blooms under a glass dome ceiling. "Hm, the Dorrels for sure. The Bifirs and of course anyone from the Reyfaren house," it seems she doesn't have much trust in Ievis already. Cynarith seems to be searching for something specific and must climb the sliding ladder to reach it, "what would your boutique's name be? Will you go by Lady Vee or choose an alter ego? Aha!" She finally finds what she is looking for and climbs down in order to hand the tall thin book to Vee. "These are design patterns my brother sent me a while ago. I can hem or fix a rip, but I cannot make these types of dresses so I do not know why he sent them. If you would like to make use of them, great. If they aren't your style, that is perfectly fine as well." Then she realizes something, "do you happen to have a dress on hand that I may show off tonight at my conservatory ball? Get those potential patrons green with envy early," Cynarith concludes with a soft chuckle.
Verah’s nose twitches slightly. “Well, all the more interesting, I suppose. Business is business. Titles are titles. I don’t blame a woman and/or man marrying for the sake of fortune for their future lineage and family.” A sneaky smile reaches her lips, but the light does not reach her eyes. “Love burns. Even so enough that hearts break. I’ve seen many love stories in my time, so much so I used to have a way to play matchmaker with some old clients. I adore it, from a distance, but my ship has sailed, Lady Cyn.” Whatever story that may be. A hand reaches out and the small, tan hand lifts gently into the lady’s before her before gracefully strolling about the halls. The con-artist takes in the environment around her–paintings, vases, doors before moving into the library with the very large, mystical tree blooming within the middle of the room. She stops at the entrance, and Lady Cynarith would have to go without her as the blonde would take in the rest of the surroundings. This was not a world for her, but she was a talented actress. Eventually she calmly moves about the library before meeting up with her fellow company. All the names are mentally noted. “I’ll keep attentive to my future customers.” The half elf waits at the bottom of the ladder, and in the midst of thoughts, Cynarith is already coming down. “Perhaps something striking to the tongue The Charmeuse Couture? As for an alias, I am sure Lady Vee does not sound quite so elegant. Veronica sounds more polite.” Not that that was her real name either, but it was sure darn close. “People tend to call me nomadic. After the season, I’ll have to be quite delicate about where I roam. Elimdor won’t see me for a long while after I am gone.”
The book is shown, and brown eyes look over Cynarith’s arm down towards the pages with the sketched patterns. “Seems thought out enough. I’m surprised he left these with you.” She reaches forward to take the book. “I can play around and see what I can come up with.” As the woman asks for a dress, however, Verah grins. A genuine one. “I have a few options in mind for my wagon, Lady Cynarith. A deep, dark blue, like where our Astral Bodies reside. Very celestial. Wide, flowy sleeves, but shaped in all the right places. But I have various colors: powder blue, pink, champagne, red, and orange are on the top of my head. I keep some in a large chest in the carriage. All dresses I have made and I have yet to use for a purpose of only selling. I do a lot of stitching, especially since I make my own clothes strictly, and I travel frequently. Some might not be elegant as a ball, but surely you are free to browse.”
Cynarith meets those cinnamon hues with a recognition and understanding when Verah mentions her ship being sailed as she feels the exact same. "Then our poor man-o-war vessels shall continue to pass silently through the chilled night, sinking any frigate brave enough to get close," the analogy is meant to be a joke because it sounds like such a lonely way of living. It may be, but Cynarith makes light of it anyway with a giggle at the end. Soon, Vee might get a little more comfortable in Cynarith's world as she will discover that she welcomes all into her home no matter their background. She was there once and hasn't entirely lost touch with the struggle of everyday life, but for now Cynarith pretends to not notice Vee's hesitations. "Charmeuse Couture? Oh that sounds dreamy, I adore it, Madame Veronica," she adds a little accent to the name to further the exotic feel to their little experiment. Cynarith may never truly come to know Vee's real name, but she figures whatever makes her comfortable because it makes no difference to Cynarith. She can see the type of woman she is and that feels more intimate than knowing her name. "There is always next season if you decide to come back," the socialite dangles out temptingly in a casual manner as to not commit Vee to anything. She gets the feeling that Vee has commitment phobia. "Well, he used to have a shop here, but didn't want to leave me entirely in the lurch without his creations when he relocated. At the time I had three businesses to run and didn't have time then. I definitely don't have time now that I am helping my mentor with Nildran Construction while he is away."
It is at this time a butler enters the room with a quickened pace to announce a certain avian dignitary has arrived at the front of the house. Cynarith cannot help the grin that spreads across her lips as she realizes Uriphiel accepted her plan. "Leave the dresses with me, Madame VIctoria, and I will have the ones I do not choose sent back to you. I shall get the ton gossiping about a new modiste before this night is over! Just leave your location with mister Stibbons here," she takes Vee's hand in her own and then places her other hand across Vee's knuckles as she locks their gaze one last time. "I am excited to see where this partnership," and budding friendship, "may lead us. Please meet me at the empty shop across from the Smoke and Mirrors Magical Supply Shop in exactly one week at this exact time." The hand on top of Vee's knuckles lifts to slip in the pocket within her own jacket lining and pulls free a little coin purse that she places inside the palm of Vee's hand in place of her own. "For the dress," then she drops her hands from Vee's before quickly retreating from the Library to quickly change so she can receive her new guest with a farewell of, "á na márië!"
Verah smirked. "Most poetic and unequivocally robust, indeed," and, indeed, very lonely, but the blonde keeps that humorous smile all-the-same to match the pink-haired woman before her. “We always love dreamy. Isn’t that what draws the ladies of the ton? Dreamy gowns? Exquisite, elegantly enchanted names.” A cunning grin reaches full lips before she gracefully brushes back thick, pale blonde tendrils before they are full again. One day her actual name would spill, as long as she felt comfortable enough not to be burned, yet… Verah always had a nasty habit of social sabotage. Let one hope greed will not get in the way of this forming, comforting dynamic. Her brain swirls at the aspect of a potential of returning to the next season, but her chin remains upward in contemplation. “I guess we’ll see where this season takes us,” she nonchalantly shrugs before gazing around the library. “You're safe with me running it smoothly then,” maybe. Well, in the way they both planned to, at least.
As the butler bustles in to announce the next line of company, curious eyes meander until they land on Cynarith again. Curiosity, yet light-hearted. The expression shakes before she nods. “I’ll leave them behind and have help unloading my cart. I’ll be staying locally for the night. I promise to leave a word.” As fingers wrap around the modiste’s knuckles, light brown eyes meet turquoise. She holds the gaze, and she can feel the genuinity in the secure grasp. The empath is wrapped with comfort. Truth. What would Verah do with that? It was rare to meet someone so honest. Caring. Her world was all about lies and deceit. Trouble. “I’ll be there,” her breath caught a little, but she mustered the match of authentic gaze and tone. The coin is slipped within and Verah is taken aback to even feel the need to accept the coin. Cynarith was already doing so much, however, both of them had a price. An underlying greed. “Farewell, Lady Cynarith. Until we meet again,” and then they break. Lady Veronica had some business to attend to