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Conversations Behind Closed Doors:

(Largely a piece to try and hammer out Sephadi's position in the world, as well as the plots that occur around her without her knowledge. Hopefully the fancy is allowed. To fully get a grip on Sephadi, I also need to get a grip on her family members.)

The heavy oak door swung shut, polished wood gleaming as it swivelled on gold-capped hinges. For all that being a Temple Knight meant serving God above all, some of them, at least, were not above furnishing their abodes with quality.

Damiton Baudansson had been born a wealthy merchant's son, and in all his life he had never lost his taste for living well. He might be a tough campaigner, ruthless to the extreme, able to survive for days on little sleep and tight rations, but at the end of the day, he revelled in surrounding himself with beauty, wealth and quality.

Some said that was why he had married Sephadi's mother in the first place. Arevala had a form and figure to break hearts.

The Preceptor steepled his fingers as he regarded his cousin over the gleaming oak desk. Reflections scattered across the lacquer, and light was refracted in the areas of opaqueness where ink blots had been diligently scrubbed away.

Olvan's mouth twisted slightly. Lips curved minutely in a sarcastic smile when he noted the effect. "How many young would-be knights served out their penances by scrubbing that table of yours?"

"Only two," Damiton replied expansively, stretching his legs out in front of him to relax his poise. At the age of fifty-six, there was some who wondered if he did not have other blood, for he wore his age well. He was still a handsome man, in a rugged and fierce way. More like to be rough than sophisticated, he nevertheless could put on the most exquisite manners when the occasion called for it. Just because he didn't like to didn't mean that he could not. And truly, he was quite the charismatic man. Many spoke well of him, although there were just as many who spoke out against his actions against the nomads.

"Now what is this message that you require so desperately to be sent to the High Cardinal?" Olvan asked.

"The position of this kingdom." And so did Damiton outline what he had discovered whilst he had been away... all the while, idly rolling about a ring that had been taken from a nomad's dead body.

OOC: This scene was crawling around in my head whilst I was trying to study. So I had to get it out on paper. Hopefully it is alright.

IC:

In which Sephadi is introduced to 'high society' and gains an arch-nemesis.

It felt like Summer, the warm breezes filling the courtyard with the scent of newly cut grass and roses. Perhaps Sephadi should have known that such temperatures could only herald a storm that evening. But the girl thought only of the moment, as the young were wont to do.
Enjoying the sunshine, and dressed in simple gown matched by a straw hat covering her golden curls, the avarian girl and her friend, Denee, made the rounds of the church settlement's garden, doing their best to look like grown-up ladies taking a stroll.
Unfortunately, Denee was sounding nothing like a grown-up lady at that moment. The raven-haired girl was complaining about the antics of her younger siblings.
Sephadi listened patiently at first. It was the least she owed her friend. But as Denee started to complain about how her younger brother had dripped grease all over her new skirt, Sephadi could not help herself. She interrupted.
"Denee, you have to let go," the blonde avarian girl said. "If you're going to do anything with your life, you can't be held back by your siblings. Every time I talk to you, it's always about Nash or Jo or Maree. You need to talk about something else!"
"Like what?" Denee asked, the raven-haired girl's eyes snapping open in startlement. She did not sound offended, merely thrown off balance by Sephadi's suggestion.
"Like my cousin's garden party this weekend. You /are/ going, aren't you?"
"Oh yes," Denee answered eagerly. "Mother says I can go and she's a friend of your aunt's. But what is there to talk about it?"
"Well, what are you going to wear?" Sephadi pressed, her own thoughts already more than occupied by the party ahead and her mode of dress.
"This, I guess," Denee said, indicating the butter-cup yellow gown she wore.
Sephadi was horrified. "But you'll look so… childish!" she exclaimed.
It was true, too. The yellow gown that Denee wore was complete with tiny blue flowers and a neat apron. Combined with the two black ponytails into which Denee's hair had been tied, she really looked…. twelve or something. Hardly like a young woman.
"What are you going to wear?" Denee questioned, and Sephadi immediately launched into a description of her ideal dress.
"… Not that I can wear it, though," Sephadi sighed. "Mother would never let me get something like that. And there wouldn't be time to make it up, anyway, even if I had the money myself. Still, I can always dream, can't I."
Denee mulled over the description for a moment in her slow way. Denee was always slow about things like this. "Um. Sephadi?" she asked after a moment.
"Yes?"
"The dress you described. It doesn't sound very… er… proper."
"Well it's /fashionable/," Sephadi said, "which is more than you can say for the yellow frock you're wearing and this silly blue thing I've got on. On my birthday, I'm going to ask Father if I can start wearing grown-up clothes."
"My mother is a grown-up and she doesn't wear stuff like that."
Sephadi thought to herself: Well Denee, that's because your mother is a frump. But she didn't say that, even though Denee's mother was only a washerwoman, and her father an ostler in the Church Knight stables.
"You don't need to follow her sense of fashion," was what the blonde avarian girl told her friend. "When you go to my cousin's garden party, you'll see what I mean."

*

The day of the party dawned, with fine and cloudless blue skies.
It was held in a country manor some distance from the Church settlement, hosted by Ielenna Kelarnsdaughter, whose mother was sister to Sephadi's father. Ielenna was two years older than Sephadi, and quite possibly a bad influence upon the girl.
Ielenna, after all, was 'very grown up' and fashionable to Sephadi's way of thinking, and the blonde avarian girl wanted desperately to emulate her.
She brought her new vixie, named Argylla, with her, for she hoped the sight of the unusual creature would impress her cousin.
But when Sephadi and Denee arrived and saw the finery of the other guests, Sephadi wished the earth would swallow her up in shame. She had feared it might be something like this, but she had never thought she would be outclassed /this/ badly.
She was wearing a nice white frock, such as a little girl might wear, with a pink bow tied around the waist. And Denee was wearing the buttercup yellow dress she had said she would. It was not as though either of the girls had much choice where their mothers were concerned.
"Oh Sephadi, welcome!" Ielenna gushed, absolutely stunning in a low-necked crimson gown with ivory lace peeking up over the neckline. Her face was made up with paints and powders, giving her a feline appearance that Sephadi could never hope to achieve. Her glossy brown hair was woven into a tight braid that wrapped around her head, giving her a sophisticated and oh so fashionable look.
"And this is your friend, Denee?" Ielenna asked. "You look absolutely…. Gorgeous… both of you." But her cousin sounded /so/ insincere, and Sephadi knew what Ielenna was really thinking:
You both look hideous. Just like little children.
Ielenna cooed over the lilac-coloured vixie when she saw it. "You look so cute with it, Sephadi," she said, and then she led them into the garden - she had been permitted to run the entire affair by her mother, who was far too busy with socialite gatherings of her own, and her father, who was so busy doing important political work that he had little time to worry about the escapades of his only child.
Long trestles had been put out, laden with rich foods and wine. The neatly manicured gardens were filled with guests, all dressed in the latest fashions from town. Sephadi and Denee drew some attention - Sephadi in particularly because she was avarian, and that was unusual.
"You are Ielenna's young cousin, dear?" an icy blonde who could only have been a few years older than Sephadi herself, asked, fluttering her lacy fan against her cheek.
Feeling like a twelve-year-old in such august company, Sephadi nonetheless tried to sound graceful.
"Yes. I am Sephadi Damitonsdaughter. Might I know your name?"
The only problem was, the sentences came out more awkward than she would have wished.
The icy beauty laughed, lightly, the trill raising louder laughter from her circle of admirers. "Oh /dear/. I am hurt that you do not know me. Lady Belaine of House Havestock."
Sephadi /did/ wish the earth would swallow her and drop her into a pit of oblivion just then. Whilst she did not know Belaine personally, she knew her house: an influential noble family, not to say the least.
/Why didn't Ielenna warn me she was entertaining such august company?/ Sephadi asked, silently fuming.
"My Lady," an olive-skinned gentleman with curly black hair said to the noblewoman, "I am sure the child did not intend offence."
/Child indeed!/
Denee remained close-mouthed at her side and Sephadi fumed at her friend, too, for giving her no aid. This was absolutely disastrous! Sephadi's introduction to /proper/ high society was meant to be a grand affair, not something shocking like this!
"And you have a vixie with you, child? Where did you obtain this darling creature?"
"I found it, my Lady," Sephadi replied.
"Found it? Why, surely a child like you cannot look after such a creature on your own. How much for it?"
/That/ startled the avarian girl. "My Lady, I'm sorry, it isn't for sale," she said apologetically.
Lady Belaine assumed a petulant expression, her pencil-fine brows snapping downwards in an expression of real displeasure. "/Not for sale/?" Her words rose higher upon that note, fan snapping angrily in the air. "Of course it is for sale, you impertinent little child!"
Sephadi stood her ground. She hadn't saved her vixie from her mother's clutches just to have it enter into the grasping hands of a spoilt noblewoman. Lady Belaine probably had a thousand vixies already in her care!
"She thinks she is so important," Belaine said icily to one of her male companions, "just because her family are rising merchants and her father is a Church Knight Preceptor. I think I am leaving now. I will not stay here to be offended in this fashion." The noblewoman snapped her fan shut and swept towards the exit, her admirers trailing in her wake.
When Ielenna realised her august guest was departing, she hurried to her side, making profusive apologies for Sephadi's behaviour. She tried to offer all manner of blandishments to entice Lady Belaine to stay, but all the noblewoman said in imperious tones was, "When you don't have…. Impertinent /children/ spoiling your parties, I will return, Ielenna."
Ielenna flushed crimson, standing back, helpless to prevent the lady's departure.
Then when Lady Belaine had departed, escorted away in her fine carriage pulled by a dozen white horses with shining plumes, Ielenna swooped angrily down upon Sephadi and Denee.
"You - you - you little /idiots!/" she cried. "You've absolutely ruined my party! Lady Belaine was my guest of honour, and her father is working with mine on a very lucrative deal! You should have just given her the silly creature!" Ielenna sent a venomous look to the vixie clutched protectively beneath Sephadi's chin.
But Sephadi held the creature even more tightly, staring mulishly back at her cousin. "She wanted Argylla and I'm not giving her to some horrible noblewoman, not even if she's a Havestock!"
The rest of the party was a miserable affair, however, and Sephadi and Denee were only too glad to go home.