Evening at the LeClair Estate
The LeClairs were hosting yet another party at the behest of Aurélien’s mother, Morgane LeClair. The crème de la crème of the galdori had been invited to the LeClair estate just outside of Vienda’s city limits but not quite in the territory of the many plantations that resided on the countryside. The estate was a large manor filled with speciality rooms. The great hall was the main attraction that night and it was where the galdori gathered to mingle with one another under the warm lights of chandeliers hanging far above. Aurélien saw the room as a place where he practiced etiquette under his passive nanny Sara. Here in the great hall, he was taught how to mingle and intwine himself in the ways of his contemporaries.
Sara had taught him well, for he navigated the various conversations of that night with ease and fluidity. His mother swore he was more like his father than he was like her, but Aurélien disagreed. Even now as he stood with a glass of wine in his hand, surrounded on all sides by those interested in his career, his mother commanded the presence of twice his company and spoke to each one with a sense of personability that made her a joy to be around. Aurélien hadn’t said it aloud before, but he admired his mother and the way she navigated the social rungs of the galdori ladder. She was a fashion designer, not a politician, but one wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
Aurélien turned his attention back to one of his company, crossing his arms over his chest and tucking his free hand under to show he was interested, not standoffish. As practiced, he nodded along with the person’s words and furrowed his brows in places necessary to show that he was truly interested. He was, to a point, but his mind was bumbling at a mile a minute with thoughts segregated to every aspect of the party. This was one of the first get togethers called that he would be a key player in maintaining the interest of his father’s career.
Aurélien’s father, Gauvain LeClair, was a well known judge in the Courts and was looking to secure a position in the King and Queen’s Congress. Aurélien’s job was to ensure that good words were exchanged between him and select targets that would serve to promote his father’s name. The pressure was on, and he was simply waiting for the right chance to isolate one of the chosen targets that now hovered in the peripherals of his vision: another highly popular judge with a friend on Congress.
Aurélien laughed when his conversation partner chuckled then he extended hand to pat the other person on the shoulder, moving to excuse himself. He was being as pleasant as ever, pardoning himself from the group that had surrounded him and letting his field breathe a little more while he moved through the sea of bodies.
The music coming from a playing band flooded the room in a tune that was lively enough to invite people to drink and be merry, but was also quiet enough to not overpower the conversations of the guest. Aurélien’s mother’s laugh drowned the music out entirely for moments at a time, as did the bellows of her audience as they shared the humor in her joke.
Aurélien could feel his father’s eyes on him as he moved towards the popular judge, a man named Arthur. Aurélien made a beeline for Arthur, catching the man’s eye eventually as the taller than average galdor broke through the sea of gathered bodies. Arthur and Aurélien came to one another with pleasant smiles plastered on their faces, their fields politely neutral until their hands met one another and they exchanged names. They immediately began prodding and analyzing the other’s field with unabashed curiosity as they looked one another in the eyes during the handshake. When the handshake ended, Aurélien withdrew his curious probing and engaged in a polite exchange of words, attention wholly on his rehearsed transcription of key points to include in this moment of freetime he had with Arthur.