Eularia rolled her eyes at Magnus' reply.
She didn't look his way; wouldn't risk anyone seeing her face and attempting to put two-and-two together. She was smiling, and dancing, and for the first time in a while, she was happy.
The woman fluidly stepped into the new tune, as it changed from something of the Marches to something... achingly familiar. She shifted her body, until she was facing the musicians, searching for the one that had shifted the tune. It'd been the violin—
And then, there was the violinist, speaking to her.
The man joined her, and she let her eyes wander over his form, lingering to watch his steps. Familiar. She chalked the familiarness up to the fact this man could play violin and dance at the same time; a feat her husband had perfected. It was a rare feat, not many were able to manage.
But this man...
She hummed her appreciation,
It was uncanny.
But she was certain her husband would not play games with her; then again, she had not yet figured out just why Francesco had taken off from their agreed-upon safe haven. She worried sometimes that the reason Alfred did not report back is, he may have found the man and learned that Frankie did not want to return home to her.
Absurd, she was sure. But when Magnus wasn't distracting her anxieties, her mind liked to run through every possible scenario.
The tune came to an end, and she dipped into a curtsy. Breathless and completely unnerved by the strange violinist. She'd tell Magnus about it later, though he likely sensed she was uneasy, nervous? She couldn't quite pin the word of how she felt.
Have you taken up poetry? I make a damn good muse.The telepathic comment clearly has a flirty undertone to it, and she misstepped as she flirted, recovering quickly, however.
She didn't look his way; wouldn't risk anyone seeing her face and attempting to put two-and-two together. She was smiling, and dancing, and for the first time in a while, she was happy.
The woman fluidly stepped into the new tune, as it changed from something of the Marches to something... achingly familiar. She shifted her body, until she was facing the musicians, searching for the one that had shifted the tune. It'd been the violin—
And then, there was the violinist, speaking to her.
Thank you for the compliment,she exclaimed, like always thrilled for positive attention in regards to dance. It'd been her lifeblood before she'd found noble titles and the Game.
The man joined her, and she let her eyes wander over his form, lingering to watch his steps. Familiar. She chalked the familiarness up to the fact this man could play violin and dance at the same time; a feat her husband had perfected. It was a rare feat, not many were able to manage.
But this man...
She hummed her appreciation,
I am but a visitor to Arlathan.His question brought her out of her thoughts. The way the stranger very casually likened her to a butterfly made her stomach drop, and she misstepped. Badly enough that she had to pause to wait on the tune, before she could resume her dance.
You must be Antivan to know this dance,she decided that was a safe enough statement. This man... he almost reminded her of her husband, on their nights in the tavern where they pretended they were meeting for the first time.
It was uncanny.
But she was certain her husband would not play games with her; then again, she had not yet figured out just why Francesco had taken off from their agreed-upon safe haven. She worried sometimes that the reason Alfred did not report back is, he may have found the man and learned that Frankie did not want to return home to her.
Absurd, she was sure. But when Magnus wasn't distracting her anxieties, her mind liked to run through every possible scenario.
The tune came to an end, and she dipped into a curtsy. Breathless and completely unnerved by the strange violinist. She'd tell Magnus about it later, though he likely sensed she was uneasy, nervous? She couldn't quite pin the word of how she felt.
03-26-2023, 10:56 AM
