Lady Soliel Markisean woke up the next morning with a bum sore from sitting on the hard marble floor the whole night. She managed to escape her own party for a good while before a member of staff found her and dragged her back to meet with other suitors. Her father seemed particularly fond of the Baroness’s son, Deveaux. He was quite talented in that he could hold an entire conversation entirely by himself. He was very fond of his own voice. In fact most suitor’s who spoke to her did precisely that. They spoke to her rather than with her. She hardly got a word in edgewise and when she did it was frequently ignored or dismissed. Many of them asked questions she found absolutely ridiculous. What was her favorite flower? How was that going to help their compatibility? They all expected a severely dim witted girl who crochets and shops all day. Many of them flashed their wealth in which she was entirely disinterested in. A few even made such brazen claims as to attempt to win her affection by boasting about their marital talents. It pained her to stop her eyes from turning in her head.
A hundred suitors at the most well attended party of the year so far and not a single one was even able to hold a decent conversation. Well… maybe one. Lord Boudreaux. Tyrian, he was able— if also disinterested. She sighed. She was going to be married off to the Baroness’s boy and live her life with sewn lips. Maybe she could make friends with the paintings, surly they would let her speak. Dying a spinster was seeming more and more appealing. Father had Madeline, her betrothed could inherit his affairs. She’d be of age in six years, Father wasn’t so old he couldn’t retire then. Madeline would take care of her, she’d let her live in the guest house and read all the books she wanted. It wasn’t a bad plan. She knew her father wouldn’t hear of it. She yawned and rang the bell at her bedside for her chambermaid. It was past time to begin the day.
Dressed in too tight clothes a few hours later Soliel found herself wandering around the kitchen. She would have made herself something to eat if she thought the addition of food to her abdomen wouldn’t restrict her being able to breathe. Instead she looked longingly at an apple for a while, thinking of the core she’d thrown down the hallway the night prior. She smiled, the look on Tyrian’s face was priceless. Nan appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. She knocked once on the wall to get her attention. Apparently her father wanted to see her in the drawing room. Her nanny looked at her nervously. For once Soliel saved her the awkwardness of asking what her father wanted and simply followed her through the manor. Though when she got there she wished he’d had time to prepare herself.
“Soul! Right on time.” Soliel’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Lord Boudreaux! And.. the Earl and Countess, what a surprise.” She tried to hide her horror.
“ Countess Boudreaux, you remember my daughter Soliel.”
“How could I ever forget such a vision.” The Countess smiled at Soleil.
“Forgive me, where are my manors.” Soliel curtsied and smiled at the Earl. “It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance Earl Boudreaux.”
“Likewise Lady Markisean. My son tells me you are quite the dancer.” Soleil glanced over at Tyrian curiously.
“He’s too kind, I assure you as a partner he did all the work. I simply followed him in a pretty dress.”
“She’s being modest of course.” The Countess erupted. “I saw her myself, dear you should’ve been there, the dancing was magical.” Soliel wondered if it really was Tyrian who spoke kind words about her or if it were the Countess who dominated that conversation.
“You’re too kind.” Tyrian saw her nervous hands at her waistline and opted to turn the conversation elsewhere.
“I’m sure Lady Soliel is rather busy with her studies. We mustn't be so bold as to assume much more of her time.” Soliel smiled at Tyrian.
“Actually Soliel I called you here in hopes that you might show Tyrian, along with Nan of course, around the grounds. It’s a large estate and it should be awhile as I discuss trades with the Earl. The Duchess has already agreed to have tea with the Countess.” Soliel falsified a smile.
“Of course father.” She said, before extending an arm to a less than willing Tyrian. Nan was a step behind them as they walked down the hall and she kept to herself as she escorted them. Soliel managed to put some space between her and them so they could speak more freely. “Well, I imagine this is how you felt when I bombarded you with a dance last night.”
“Except I wasn’t in on this at all. I wasn’t so inclined to return to the scene of the crime after yesterday.” Soliel made a face.
“Again I apologize.”
“No need, I understand your musing.” Tyrian stated.
“Oh?”
“I believe so. Having never met any of the attendees and then finding me rather off guard and in less propriety than I should’ve been, you found it easy to choose me to dance with. It was only practical as I was the most familiar face and the easiest to stay calm with as you had leverage on me. Besides, I assume you were meant to be at the party just a bit earlier to pick a partner.”
“I suppose you aren’t the only one who likes to hide from large events. The potential suitors are such a drag.”
“Is that what you meant when you said I was almost interesting?” Soliel blushed.
“Yes, I’m afraid I was quite disappointed to see you so much like the rest of them after all we had been through in those few moments together.” She was jesting but her face was sad.
“I suppose I’ll have to try harder to prove I’m different then.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, on the contraire I can not have the future Duchess running around the colonies telling everyone I am but a boring gentleman. It would ruin my image.” It was his turn to jest.
“Oh, don’t lose too much sleep on it, I’m hardly allowed to talk to anyone anyways.” Tyrian frowned, that wasn’t right.
“Don’t you have any friends your age?”
“No, most girls my age are married. I never did attend their parties and I assume they don’t know or care to know me.”
“I’d imagine many girls would care to know you.”
“Many girls would care to use my status to push themselves forward, I suppose that’s what you mean.” He was silent, she was sharp. “I’m nine and ten. Far too old for that ridiculous party father threw. Yet he forced it on me anyways.”
“I didn’t want to say, but is your father really so protective of you that you’ve gone so long without a proper introduction to your own town?”
“Not at all, that was entirely my doing. Father is a very busy man and often goes away for long periods of time. So naturally he doesn’t see his daughters very often. He’s always boasted about not having a son to inherit his wealth and how my husband would have to take over one day. Well, knowing I was soon to turn five and ten I started requesting meals in my room. I asked to be sent away to a french boarding school and would only visit when I could be certain my father wasn’t going to be home.”
“Why would you avoid your own father?”
“Well you see I had begun at five and ten to look much less like a girl and much more like a woman. I simply knew father would jump at the chance to throw a party and so I hoped that if he didn’t see me he’d just...forget.”
“And that worked?”
“Out of sight out of mind as they say.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I had to come home eventually and when he saw me it was written all over his face. I had grown up without his notice. He immediately ensured he would not make the same error with Madeline, as she is already betrothed to the Viscounts son. This party was planned within a fortnight and thrown with as much haste.” Tyrian listened quietly as she spoke. “Now I suppose he’ll be pressing for marriage. He’ll be quite angry when he discovers I haven’t an interest in finding a suitor.”
“That’s quite the burden you’re shouldering. Tell me, why is it that you seem to loathe the idea of being married?”
“Aside from the utter and complete lack of freedom?”
“What Dost thou mean?”
“At this time in my father's home, I may spend my days roaming the halls and reading until my hearts content. If I were to be married I’d be paraded around like a show pony and forced to birth Heirs. Breeded as though I belonged in the stables. No matter who he was, he’d never listen to the opinions of a woman. I’ve hardly met a suitor who listened to more from me than my title.” Her eyes dropped to the floor.
“I understand.” She looked at him. That was unexpected.
“You?”
“Of course. The Countess wishes to see me married off as well.”
“And why, if you don’t mind me asking, don’t you care for marriage? Too much of a bachelor?” She smirked.
“The opposite. I prefer solitude. I have no interest in producing an heir. Marriage would mean a woman probably much like the Countess nagging me to go to parties and as you know I don’t favor dancing. The girls I’ve been introduced to are plain in intellect. Unable to hold conversations about more than flowers, dresses, and balls. Gossips — all of them.”
“Gossip can be entertaining at times, if you are aware that it’s mostly foolishness.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, for example; I heard last night that Lord Deveaux— the Baroness’s son— is quite the marital expert.”
“Is that so?” Tyrian said, mocking his mother’s voice.
“Why yes indeed, I heard it straight from the horse breeders mouth.” She giggled and Tyrian let out a low chuckle.
“He said that to you?” Soliel shook her head yes. “Wow.”
“Father would see me married to that— that half wit.” She said and then she covered her lips with her fingertips. She’d spoken too loud and completely forgot herself. “My apologies Lord Boudreaux. I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn.” The girl who was just laughing with him in the hall had disappeared. Instead a polite lady stood next to him apologizing for having raised her voice.
“You… don’t have to do that with me. You needn’t apologize for being yourself.”
“I thought you said you’d much rather stick to pleasantries. They may start rumors about us if we look too familiar.” She threw his own words back at him and they stung a bit. He offered an apologetic smile.
“Did you know Plato was the disciple of Socrates?” She blinked twice up at him confused.
“What of it?”
“Well you mentioned reading his works and I’m recently reading some work on Aristotle. Plato was his mentor which would make Aristotle the intellectual grandchild of Socrates.”
“That… I never thought of that before.”
“There’s more, the book I have is Aristotle’s complete works and he was the teacher of Alexander the great.”
“Really?” She asked genuinely interested. She suggested they go look at some more books she had on the subject and he continued his explanation on the way to the library. They sat near the wood burning fireplace as Nan called for tea. The fall chill was starting to fade from the room and the glow of the fire danced off the pages of their shared book.
“There are three classes of men; lovers of wisdom, lovers of honor, and lovers of gain.” He read aloud. Tyrian glanced up at Soliel as she was yawning into her petite hand. Her auburn hair reflecting firelight, illuminating her perfectly symmetrical features. She was wearing a dress of cotton in a deep blue much less extravagant than the green gown in which she’d first graced his presence. He preferred the forest color against her caramel skin.
“And which, answer honestly, are you?” Tyrian averted his eyes.
“I would hope to classify myself as a lover of wisdom but it is not for a man to classify himself. Rather the company of those around him, how he treats that company will ring true his composition.”
“A lover of wisdom, dangerous.”
“How so?”
“Knowledge becomes evil if the aim not be virtuous.” She quoted plato to him.
“Ah, are the two not different? Knowledge and wisdom.”
“I believe the saying goes ‘knowledge without justice ought to be called cunning not wisdom.’ does that not imply that they are cut from the same cloth?”
“Are a pair of trousers and a hat made from the same drapes the same item?”
“You sir are definitely a lover of wisdom as that reply can only be described as cunning and overthought. Different items of course but at their base they are the same. From a scientific view and at their core they more than parallel and is philosophy anything more than a social science at its core?”
“Your technicalities are always clever Lady Markisean. However could we then not say that about any object? A bird and a leaf at their very core are simply atoms. The entire universe is simply energy and therefore all things at their core are indeed the same.”
“Perhaps I was too broad. It holds true all the same however, that a lover of wisdom is only a hair away from evil. One has only to lose their justice and virtuous aim. Is that something you possess, Lord Boudreaux?”
“Virtuous aim or justice?” He asked her.
“Either.”
“I would like to believe so. Can having heart in education be described as virtuous?”
“I think having heart or passion in anything is virtuous so long as the subject isn’t inexplicably evil.”
“Well it was Aristotle who said ‘educating the mind without heart is no education at all’ if he is your favorite I believe I am beginning to understand where your values come from.”
“I suppose in terms of education and heart I wear both of mine on my sleeve.” The fire crackled beside them and Tyrian closed the book. She watched the light dance across his face.
“There is no shame in that.” He whispered so only she could hear. Nan was resting with a cup of tea in her hands a few feet away. Suddenly Soliel was very aware of her presence and she straightened up.
“It’s late.” She said turning toward Nan. The woman placed her tea on the table in front of her to sign with her hands. “It has to be, look at the sky.” Soliel answered. The hours had indeed turned and the sky was beginning to change in color. “Surely they can’t still be discussing trades?” Nan looked at Soliel apologetically, explaining that she did not know. Soliel signed her a thank you and their custom version of a sign for love.
“Does she not speak?” Tyrian inquired.
“Nan is mute. She’s taught me sign language, amongst other subjects, since I was a baby. I owe her my education. She is the embodiment of excellence.”
“You speak quite fondly of her and if you owe her your education then her ability must be excellent indeed.”
“Aristotle wrote ‘we are what we do. Excellence then is not an act but a habit.’ Nan is nothing short of it. She’s been the only constant in my life. She even lived with me in France.” Before much longer a maid announced dinner and that the Boudreaux family was inclined to stay and eat with them. Tyrian and Soliel exchanged a look and went to dinner with their families.
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