[Memory] Better Company

[Linnea Madison]

uptown, vienda
hamis 18, 2715 ● early evening

The ambassador felt herself blush, slightly, something that might've been more noticeable if she hadn't have had a rosy tint to her cheeks already from both the drinks she'd ingested and the powder dusted across her high cheekbones. Yes, she supposed that the embassy was in fact, with her, and giggled for just a moment herself, the Bastian alight with amusement in the presence of the Ibutatus. When Uzoji spoke, her eyes shifted to him, and she took the time to look over his attire, then, too, pleased to see that he was just as fashionable as his wife. Those things were important to Linnea - how could one expect to be taken seriously if not dressed to the best of their abilities?

"Ah, yes. I've only met Kayadi a handful of times, I believe," Linnea hadn't attended Brunnhold herself, and that fact alone was enough to alienate her from many of her peers and associates - she hadn't been fond of the idea of leaving Bastia, even then. Anaxas was fine, but it wasn't the same; she'd only spent around five years in the kingdom so far, and she couldn't imagine having spent another ten for schooling. Besides - her passion had been for architecture, and she far preferred the Bastian style to anything she'd seen in Anaxas.

Her gaze followed Uzoji's into the crowd, to the other man that'd been fawning over the baby - and that was still holding him - and nodded. She had to admit that she agreed with Niccolette's sentiment; she was of the belief that she, personally, shouldn't have come to the event either, but found herself enjoying it more in the company of Niccolette and Uzoji. If she had to attend every little gathering anyway, she might as well make the most of them - and she was grateful for having overheard her fellow Bastian's encounter earlier, if only because it led to conversation.

If Linnea was at all uncomfortable with being so near to the couple, their affections so clear and palpable in their fields, then she hid it well. She spent plenty of time around spouses, even if not her own, and was used to having to watch their often-strained interactions, but it was more uncommon to find two galdori so.. enamored with one another. Just as it had been a relief to hear Niccolette speak her mind, it was refreshing to see two married people in love, and the air around them was warm, and welcome, and comfortable. It was far better than the stale, stuffy air that surrounded most of the guests.

"Well, I find it quite endearing, myself, and I should hope that my countrymen would feel the same - but I'm afraid your wife is right," the ambassador smiled through the words, "have you ever visited Bastia, Mister Ibutatu? Not everywhere is quite as rigid as Florne can be; I'm inclined to believe that there's a place made for everyone, in our kingdom - I would suppose that I'm more than a little biased, however."

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Early Evening, Hamis 18, 2715
The Hessean Ambassador's Residence, Uptown, Vienda

Uzoji grinned at Linnea; he looked neither flattered at her suggestion that his obvious devotion was endearing, nor offended by the idea that Florne would find him, as a whole, vaguely uncouth. His head gleamed in the light, perfectly shaved, and even if he’d perhaps imbibed a little too much, there was an air of comfort, confidence and ease about him, as if he belonged here – as if, Niccolette thought, he belonged anywhere he went.

She was smiling, watching him, her wine glass in her hand.

“I haven’t had the pleasure yet,” Uzoji was saying, grinning. “Niccolette and I are, these days, kept quite busy on the Muluku Islands – we inherited a small plantation from my family, and have been trying to make something of it. But Niccolette has told me a good deal of Florne, and I’m sure it must be a lovely city.”

“The loveliest,” Niccolette put in, with a wicked little grin, the familiar grooves the argument already well-trodden. She took a sip of her wine, and smiled. “Once you see the Sancttedem di Hurte, you shall give up this foolish devotion to Hulali.”

Uzoji laughed, grinning at her. “I must admit defeat – I can scarcely manage this argument against one Bastian. I am sure I’ll be overwhelmed by two,” he said, smiling.

“Quite right,” Niccolette agreed, and shot an encouraging, sidelong glance at Linnea.

Her eyes flickered back over Uzoji’s shoulder, and her face tightened at the sight of Enofe making his way steadily towards them. Uzoji didn’t glance back, but he smiled at her, and bowed to Linnea. “Ambassador - my apologies. Linnea, it was truly a pleasure to meet you,” he said, politely.

“My sea and shores,” Uzoji turned to Niccolette, took her free hand and bowed over it, pressing his lips softly to the back of it.

And then Uzoji rose, smoothly, and turned back to his brother with a wide, friendly smile; without seeming to do anything of the sort, he swept him off across the room towards some distant cluster or another.

Niccolette sighed audibly with relief, and eased back against the wall, just a little. She made a little face at Linnea. “He is not so bad, my brother-in-law,” Niccolette said with a shrug. “Only – as we discussed. He is very keen to know when we shall be having children. I have grown weary of it, these last days,” she swirled the wine in her glass, gently, and took a sip.

“I wonder if he simply wishes to know if I still please Uzoji in bed?" Niccolette mused aloud, with absolutely no change in tone, although the quick flash of a grin she sent Linnea betrayed her. “Perhaps he only wants to make sure his brother is happy,” she giggled, and sighed, and relaxed, easing back against the wall.

“So,” Niccolette said, softly, in the next pause that arose. “How is it that our marriage registration came to your eyes?” She swirled the mostly empty glass of wine, did not finish it, and looked up at Linnea. Perhaps, Niccolette thought, the answer would surprise her. She did not think so; but all the same, she thought it best to know.

[Linnea Madison]

uptown, vienda
hamis 18, 2715 ● early evening

Linnea kept quiet as she listened to the other galdor speak, eyebrows raising briefly at the mention of a plantation in the Muluku Islands. She'd never been to Mugroba, personally, although she'd always been intrigued by the culture; it seemed such a passionate and artistic kingdom, though in different ways than Bastia, and she did hope to one day visit rather than merely send letters for official matters. She loved the language, even if she only knew enough to hold a conversation.

Her thoughts were pulled from ideas of Mugroba when Niccolette chimed in, the ambassador's eyes flicking to her as she mentioned the Sancttedem di Hurte.

"Oh, most certainly," she said in agreement, "it is - truly - one of the most beautiful places I've ever set foot in," and Linnea was content to outnumber Niccolette's husband in opinion, smiling into her wine when the other Bastian threw a glance her way. She, too, noticed another figure approaching - Uzoji's brother, Enofe - and shook her head slightly as the man offered his apologies and farewells.

"Likewise, Mister Ibutatu," the tall Bastian offered a bow in return, unable to help another small smile as she straightened up and watched Uzoji press a kiss to Niccolette's hand. Her gaze lingered on the man for another moment, as he turned to walk away and guide his brother back into the crowds, before Niccolette's voice brought her back to the woman's face. The color painting her lips quite suited her, she thought, but then, she couldn't imagine much not suiting such a galdor. She was practically Bastia personified.

The ambassador hummed, quietly, in agreement. She allowed herself to lean slightly against the wall as well, one hand resting against the cool surface while her other held her wine.

"Yes, I understand completely -" her words were cut off, however, by a laugh, and Linnea brought her free hand to her mouth to quiet the sound. Oh, yes, she enjoyed this Niccolette - she was used to such comments from men, but not from her fellow women, and it was far from the uncomfortable, stifling sensation that radiated from most of her peers.

"I - yes, perhaps," she giggled, mouth still partially covered by her hand, silver ring glinting in the light. It took the dark-haired woman a few moments to control her smile, but eventually it was done, and she cleared her throat before speaking again.

Her head tilted, slightly, Linnea taking a moment to think before replying, "your family raised a bit of an issue with it, if I recall," she started, her tone soft enough that no one might overhear, "I ended up writing a letter to try and appease them - though it was certainly not the first time I've had to do such a thing."

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Early Evening, Hamis 18, 2715
The Hessean Ambassador's Residence, Uptown, Vienda

The laugh she had startled from Linnea was immensely satisfying, and Niccolette didn’t bother to hide her pleased grin as the other woman hid it behind her hand. Uzoji was walking away, and the party she would have to rejoin before too long was stifling and heavy, too many women and men in too-stiff clothing, swirling around the room, cooing over the little Hessean infant, their fields all politely caprising one another, their conversation no better.

She had not known, Niccolette thought, how terrible it all was; not until Uzoji had set her free. It had not changed, but she had, and it was like trying on a dress which no longer fit – tight in some places, loose in others, overall uncomfortable and hard to breathe, but one which she did rather need to wear.

Or, Niccolette thought, smiling over the edge of her glass at Linnea – perhaps she did not. Not always, not entirely; not as she had.

Linnea’s giggles trailed off, and they’d stood in companionable silence a few moments, and Niccolette had raised her question, unable to hide the intensity of interest in her green eyes. She appreciated the softness of Linnea’s tone, and she inclined her head lightly in thanks, and glanced away, across the room.

Uzoji stood with Enofe in a cluster by the window – he said something, and all of the galdori laughed, a polite little swirl of it that seemed to ripple through the room. Niccolette knew she was smiling in obvious and unfashionable devotion. She had not powdered her cheeks, and she had brushed on only the faintest of color – and pale heat rose on them, now, as the Bastian looked back at Linnea and blushed.

“I am sure you wrote a lovely letter,” Niccolette said casually, and shrugged, the color fading in her cheeks. She finished her wine, and glanced about for one of the humans with the tray of them, quite ready for another glass. She had not done so; she had received a number from her parents, rather scathing, which had culminated in a large settlement upon them and a promise that she would be promptly disinherited. That had been in late 2711 – three and a half years ago, now – and Niccolette was rather pleased not to have received a single word since.

“And your husband?” Niccolette asked, glancing back at the ambassador. She raised her left hand, and reached out gently to catch Linnea’s own, fingers lingering for a moment against it, the tip of her index finger just tapping the other woman’s ring – a harmless, friendly touch, no more than a brush.

“He is not here, I think,” Niccolette said, and smiled at the other woman, curious and friendly. “I shall admit to a vulgar curiosity,” she said, utterly frank and not ashamed in the least. “You may appease it, or you may let me suffer, as you like.”

[Linnea Madison]

uptown, vienda
hamis 18, 2715 ● early evening

She drew her eyes from the crowd, casting her warm and inquisitive gaze onto Niccolette as the woman spoke. There had been a faint blush to her cheeks for just a moment, Linnea noticed, but said nothing else of the matter, picking up that it likely wasn't the Bastian's favorite subject to dwell on. Like Niccolette, the ambassador lifted her glass back to her lips, finishing off her wine in the silence between and watching the galdori around them go about their dull conversations and strained interactions.

She could understand not wanting to talk about such a thing - her own family had been in obvious support of her marriage, but other problems had stemmed from it, and she almost wished that her parents had, in fact, been so opposed to it as Niccolette Ibutatu's had been to hers. Linnea wondered, then, why exactly they had disagreed with it; if they had had an arrangement planned out for their daughter like her parents had done for her and she'd gone against it.

At the mention of her own husband, Linnea turned her head to look back at the other galdor, although her eyes fluttered downward to her hand as it brushed lightly against the back of her own, tapping against the silver ring.

"Ah - no, he is not," she confirmed with a half-embarrassed little smile, fingers fidgeting with her ring now that it'd been brought to her attention. There were tiny vines and flowers etched into the metal, and even if the thing was a reminder of her husband, it was also a reminder of her mother - it had been hers when she had married Linnea's father, and it had belonged to her mother's mother before that.

"It's quite alright. I don't mind speaking of him," the ambassador assured with a lighter smile, then, continuing with, "Milo Savatier. He lives back in Sielan, at the moment, so he doesn't make it to many of these gatherings. Fortunately for my sake," she joked, even if the words rang true.

As soon as another of the human servants came near, Linnea motioned for him to come over, and set her glass upon the tray to replace it with another.

"He does much better at them than I do, however. He's always had a knack for charming a crowd; it doesn't come so easily to me."

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Early Evening, Hamis 18, 2715
The Hessean Ambassador's Residence, Uptown, Vienda

There was something in Linnea’s joke that jutted up against Niccolette’s nerves. It was not, the Bastian thought, studying the ambassador, that it was false; rather, it was that it was too true. She was briefly sorry that Linnea had not told her to go straight to hell, and to take her impertinence with her.

Savatier, Niccolette thought. A Hessean name, not a Bastian one.

Niccolette took another glass of wine as well, leaving the empty one behind, although she waited until the waiter had gone to speak again.

“Well,” the Bastian said, casually, “charming or not,” she took a comfortable sip of wine, and peeked at Linnea out of the corner of her eyes, “it seems he might be an ersehole.”

Silence, then, a brief moment of it. It was not in the things Linnea had said, that seeming, but in the things she had not. There was much missing; in the way she said his name, in the little embarrassed half-smile on her face – in that his absence was an embarrassment, and a relief too. In the way she called him charming, in the way she called it a knack. Niccolette turned over the conversation in her mind, took another sip of wine, and made up her mind; once committed, she rarely backed down.

“They had an arranged marriage in mind for me,” Niccolette offered, her eyes drifting across the room to Uzoji again, still shining like a light at the center of all those people, listening, with a smile on his face, to someone speak. She smiled at the sight of him, once more, her fingers tapping softly against the glass. “My parents, that is,” Niccolette shrugged.

“Perhaps I would not have minded, if I had not already met him,” The Bastian said, her eyes still lingering on her husband. He glanced up, as if he felt her gaze, and his smile widened, and his gaze lingered as much as hers had. Niccolette found her cheeks coloring again, red. “But I had, and so I did, quite terribly.” She smiled, fondly, tracing the rim of the glass with the fingers of her other hand, and watched him until Uzoji looked away, back to a burst of chatter from the galdori around him, back to a broad, friendly grin and a laugh of his own.

Niccolette turned back to Linnea, then, and shrugged. “I think they have disowned me,” Niccolette said, abruptly cheerful, and giggled into her wine. “Quite a worthwhile trade,” she grinned a grin of her own, no less broad than Uzoji’s had been.

“Go on,” Niccolette urged, a little softly, looking up at Linnea, meeting her eyes, grin fading from her face but lingering in all the rest of her. “If you do not ask at least one improper question, I shall be quite put out. I do not think there is anything else so scandalous I can offer to tempt you.”