[Jaeyi] Quite the, uhmn, compliment. For an apprentice.
RL Date: 12/19/09
IC Date: 7/21/19 --To save time, I stole this log from T'rev.
Lunchtime has come and gone, with the expected levels of politeness and buttering up on both sides. In the wake of it, with the Gar family gone and Esraval having bowed deeply over Isobel's hand, there's only cleanup left to be done. There's help for this of course, but just now, the servants are lugging away baskets of dirty dishes, leaving the Steward free to return to the tent after seeing the last departing guest off. Esraval's ducked back through the flaps and casually, makes sure they fall to behind him, ties them loosely too, though not by all of the fastenings. Then he steps away from the tent's entrance, eyes tracking the rich red-plum of Jaeyi's skirts, sliding up along the shape of the gown to find the shape of the Baker within it. "Thank you," he says in a low voice, pleasant of timbre. "That was, if I may say so, note perfect."
Jaeyi's supervising, at this point, not really all that interested in doing any of the heavy-lifting afterward. She does, after all, get to enjoy the afterglow at least to some extent. Her token effort at helping is to push in one or two of the chairs at the now empty table, to collect a few linens in one hand and start half-folding them into a pile for later laundering. Which looks nice and prim and tidy and gives her a good chance to look up, standing at the corner of the table, and welcome Esraval's return with an undimmed smile. "Thank you. Though you did miss the part where one of the ever-so-helpful assistants put spinach in the soup instead of basil, but we caught it before the catastrophe hit the table. I hope your future in-laws appreciated you going to all this trouble, sir?" With a look over his shoulder in case any of those in-laws happen to be in tow.
There is in fact, no one in tow and the tent has been closed. Of course the 'help' may be returning for those linens in a little bit, but for now, steward and baker are alone. Another smooth step is taken closer and Esraval idly flips the corners of a used piece of linen towards each other. "Your attention to detail speaks highly of your skills," he remarks with a quick-flashed smile her way. "They did seem to be properly appreciative and I hope that this will serve to cement the relationship between the two holds in the ways my brother would prefer," Esraval notes further. "Isobel is a very charming young lady and will make a very suitable wife," he adds on, though his gaze has shifted upward once more, taking in the lines of Jaeyi's silhouette. "In fact this gathering was rich with charm, as rich as the food prepared be an equally charming baker."
With a smile that's not quite demure, that is blatantly a little pleased with herself, Jaeyi answers for her attention to detail with, "Well, it is what I get paid for, sir." She takes that errant napkin once it's landed, folds it up in the same half-creased way as the others and patting the stack with one hand so it doesn't spill off the edge. "You must be pleased to be able to check it off your list, sir? 'Lovely Gather, check. Doing a fine job as Steward, check. Suitable fiancee, check?'" An elbow leaning on the back of that chair, just about to put her chin on her fingers-- she's never had a self-conscious moment in her life, but damned if she doesn't flatten her palm to the hollow of her throat about then, as if she's just realized that posture and that dress weren't meant to go together. "You're very kind, sir, and thank you for the opportunity. Really. It means a lot for an apprentice to get work like this."
"And worth every small mark," Esraval replies with what looks like just the right proportions of charm and humor blended together. "I am pleased that it's been a good day yes and that Isobel and I may hope for some measure of happiness while doing right by our families," he answers with a little smile that borders on condescending: "Us holders you know, we have such strict conventions," he says with a put on little sigh. The way she leans though, brings both amusement and a sudden intensity of focus to his gaze as he takes another step closer. "You don't cook like an apprentice, Jaeyi," yes, he remembers her name from either earlier or making the arrangements, "a baker like you surely will be a journeywoman soon, hm?" The steward reaches out then to take her hand. The one that's flattened against her throat, to draw it away gently. And should his fingertips graze skin surely, it's only accidental. "My gratitude runs deep," he notes softly as he brings her hand towards his lips. "And should think that many such opportunities ought to come your way."
Flattered, prettily so, Jaeyi straightens up a little to accept that first compliment with a quick smile and momentarily lowered eyes, demurely pleased. Her eyes stay focused on the edge of the table for a moment longer, even while they widen, smile turning wry with the tug at the corner of her mouth. "A baker like me, sir? Mmmn, that's complicated. 'Strict conventions' apply to more than just holders," with her free hand lifted to put quotes in the air. Then her eyes lift hurriedly, her breath catches for a second, visible considering how much attention there is to pay to her chest; "Gratitude goes both ways, sir. I'd certainly appreciate any opportunity to present my talents." Like the ones involving promising looks from beneath long lashes. Stupid girl.
There goes that smile again, so bright, so charming and that spark in his eyes, is it reassuring perhaps to see that sort of humor on the steward's face. And yet there's a certain heavy-lidded laziness to him and the hand that holds hers is so very soft. Soft like he's never done a day's real work in his life. Esraval is after all a paper pusher and clearly spends a great deal of time and money maintaining himself. "Ahh, of course, every part of the world has it's conventions," he replies, making a little moue that could be imitation of some of the Hold's ladies. The caught breath pleases him, by the look in his eyes as his lips brush her knuckles lightly. "I'm sure that every opportunity to put your talents to the test ought to be provided," Esraval says quite deadpan and though he's keeping hold of her hand, he takes another half step closer and bold as brass, his other hand lifts, knuckles turned to slowly trace down the line of her neck and across that pretty decolletage of hers. There's a knowingness in the gesture and an attentiveness to his gaze, gauging her reaction closely. "Do you know that Lady Astrella often gives teas for her ladies at the Hold?" he remarks conversational while his knuckles continue their artful and oddly graceful exploration of her skin. "I would think that that might be an opportunity worth presenting yourself for, hm?"
Chin raised slightly, lengthening her neck, turning up her face just a few degrees in tilt, Jaeyi conscientiously waits until his fingers have made much of their trek before she catches her breath, the curve of cleavage moving now under his hand. "I feel like I ought to say that I wasn't aware of the Lady's teas," she begins carefully, a play-catch of teeth at her lower lip. "But I think you'd probably catch me in the lie, sir. I would very much welcome the chance to come to your Hold. For one of the Lady's teas." Her own fingers twitch briefly where they curl around the back of the chair, like they'd be busy on their own if she let them, but-- "They'll be coming for the linens soon, I imagine."
That lift of soft flesh beneath his hand turns Esraval's fingers over, almost expectant now as index and ring finger trace right along the prettily adorned edge of that bodice. Would he dare more here and now? Hard to tell. "And of course, you're an honest young lady, which is highly commendable," the steward replies, amused. There's a distinct lack of concern on his face about the coming of servants for linens. "Soon," he does agree, lets his fingers dip a little lower, crossing the line where fabric doubtless presses tight into her flesh, more pressure behind his fingertips. That hand lifts then, leaves off teasing her cleavage and takes firm possession of the nape of her neck, tilting her face up towards his. The kiss when it comes is a firm, knowledgable press of lips to lips, tongue included. This is a man accustomed to getting exactly what he wants, when he wants it. When he draws back enough to let her breathe, his words are again soft, holding a seductive note to them: "I look forward to the day you come to the Hold to make tea for Astrella. I'll be waiting for you. Look for the invitation within the month."
Jaeyi's, "Ah!" has a warning note to it for the trespassing fingers, and her own hand does climb at that point, hitching to the bend in his elbow, not enough pressure to actually pull away his hand but enough to imply that some little part of her thinks it should. Whether or not she's actually surprised, she plays it well enough with her fingers briefly tightening at his elbow and then slipping off into a fist that rests against his chest. So easily kissed, afterward with her eyes still closed, a smile coming gradually, she notes in the low voice that suits her best, "It's a tremendous compliment for an apprentice, sir." Tea, one is permitted to assume.
There's actually a little smirk on Esraval's face as she smiles so, while her eyes remain closed. His thumb shifts, brushes along the edge of her neck where there's soft, sensitive skin. Very pleased, is the steward, in spite of that little warning. He has doubtless, no intention of ravishing her right here and right now, but he has no qualms about pushing the bounds of what's acceptable. "I also look forward to paying you many more such compliments," the steward replies and this time, it's the curve of her neck that his lips find, before he releases her, steps back. His hands clasp behind his back and his voice is pitched at a far more conversational level as someone starts to struggle with the partly tied tent flap. "Thank you, Baker, the lunch was lovely and we look forward to working with you again," all business and appropriate politeness. He turns, looks towards the flap as a slightly red-faced worker finally makes it inside with an empty basket. "Beggin' your pardon, sir. Flaps got stuck," she apologizes with a lot of head bobbing and proceeds briskly about to collect the linens. "I must attend to my fiancee," Esraval says airily, dismissing the serving woman from notice after a negligent movement of one hand to acknowledge her presence and her task. "But I do congratulate you on a job well done, good day." Without further ado, he turns on his heel to depart as if he wasn't just feeling her up mere moments ago.
Jaeyi's fingers twist, gathering a handful of his shirt into the crease of her palm, conscientious enough not to do anything that might leave a crease. Even in the little gesture, there's a hint of invitation, a little pull on the fabric, cloooooser. But she's been fooling around behind closed doors long enough that the first rustle of the flap replaces what might have been a soft whisper of pleasure into a quick catch of startled breath. Hastily from enjoying kisses to handing over the linens, the occupation enough to let curls half-cover the color in her cheeks, she only drops a quick curtsy to answer his compliments-- good apprentices don't call shouts at Stewards' backs, after all. They just lower their lashes demurely and appreciate the flattery. They certainly don't drop wry little laughs once they're mostly alone in the tent again; "Attend to his fiancee. I'm not sure if that girl's to be pitied or envied, the poor pretty thing."
That unspoken invitation would doubtless have been answered under different circumstances, but Esraval isn't fool enough to press the issue at this juncture. Either that servant is used to turning a blind eye, or is really fooled as she puts the last of the collected napkins into her basket, bobs a nod Jaeyi's way and ducks back out again after the steward has already departed. Should Jaeyi spy him later at the Gather, he'll be properly engrossed in either Hold business, escorting Isobel or catering to his future father-in-law and pays her only the polite sort of notice that a steward ought to the baker who prepared lunch for him and his guests. Cool as a cucumber.
IC Date: 7/21/19 --To save time, I stole this log from T'rev.
Lunchtime has come and gone, with the expected levels of politeness and buttering up on both sides. In the wake of it, with the Gar family gone and Esraval having bowed deeply over Isobel's hand, there's only cleanup left to be done. There's help for this of course, but just now, the servants are lugging away baskets of dirty dishes, leaving the Steward free to return to the tent after seeing the last departing guest off. Esraval's ducked back through the flaps and casually, makes sure they fall to behind him, ties them loosely too, though not by all of the fastenings. Then he steps away from the tent's entrance, eyes tracking the rich red-plum of Jaeyi's skirts, sliding up along the shape of the gown to find the shape of the Baker within it. "Thank you," he says in a low voice, pleasant of timbre. "That was, if I may say so, note perfect."
Jaeyi's supervising, at this point, not really all that interested in doing any of the heavy-lifting afterward. She does, after all, get to enjoy the afterglow at least to some extent. Her token effort at helping is to push in one or two of the chairs at the now empty table, to collect a few linens in one hand and start half-folding them into a pile for later laundering. Which looks nice and prim and tidy and gives her a good chance to look up, standing at the corner of the table, and welcome Esraval's return with an undimmed smile. "Thank you. Though you did miss the part where one of the ever-so-helpful assistants put spinach in the soup instead of basil, but we caught it before the catastrophe hit the table. I hope your future in-laws appreciated you going to all this trouble, sir?" With a look over his shoulder in case any of those in-laws happen to be in tow.
There is in fact, no one in tow and the tent has been closed. Of course the 'help' may be returning for those linens in a little bit, but for now, steward and baker are alone. Another smooth step is taken closer and Esraval idly flips the corners of a used piece of linen towards each other. "Your attention to detail speaks highly of your skills," he remarks with a quick-flashed smile her way. "They did seem to be properly appreciative and I hope that this will serve to cement the relationship between the two holds in the ways my brother would prefer," Esraval notes further. "Isobel is a very charming young lady and will make a very suitable wife," he adds on, though his gaze has shifted upward once more, taking in the lines of Jaeyi's silhouette. "In fact this gathering was rich with charm, as rich as the food prepared be an equally charming baker."
With a smile that's not quite demure, that is blatantly a little pleased with herself, Jaeyi answers for her attention to detail with, "Well, it is what I get paid for, sir." She takes that errant napkin once it's landed, folds it up in the same half-creased way as the others and patting the stack with one hand so it doesn't spill off the edge. "You must be pleased to be able to check it off your list, sir? 'Lovely Gather, check. Doing a fine job as Steward, check. Suitable fiancee, check?'" An elbow leaning on the back of that chair, just about to put her chin on her fingers-- she's never had a self-conscious moment in her life, but damned if she doesn't flatten her palm to the hollow of her throat about then, as if she's just realized that posture and that dress weren't meant to go together. "You're very kind, sir, and thank you for the opportunity. Really. It means a lot for an apprentice to get work like this."
"And worth every small mark," Esraval replies with what looks like just the right proportions of charm and humor blended together. "I am pleased that it's been a good day yes and that Isobel and I may hope for some measure of happiness while doing right by our families," he answers with a little smile that borders on condescending: "Us holders you know, we have such strict conventions," he says with a put on little sigh. The way she leans though, brings both amusement and a sudden intensity of focus to his gaze as he takes another step closer. "You don't cook like an apprentice, Jaeyi," yes, he remembers her name from either earlier or making the arrangements, "a baker like you surely will be a journeywoman soon, hm?" The steward reaches out then to take her hand. The one that's flattened against her throat, to draw it away gently. And should his fingertips graze skin surely, it's only accidental. "My gratitude runs deep," he notes softly as he brings her hand towards his lips. "And should think that many such opportunities ought to come your way."
Flattered, prettily so, Jaeyi straightens up a little to accept that first compliment with a quick smile and momentarily lowered eyes, demurely pleased. Her eyes stay focused on the edge of the table for a moment longer, even while they widen, smile turning wry with the tug at the corner of her mouth. "A baker like me, sir? Mmmn, that's complicated. 'Strict conventions' apply to more than just holders," with her free hand lifted to put quotes in the air. Then her eyes lift hurriedly, her breath catches for a second, visible considering how much attention there is to pay to her chest; "Gratitude goes both ways, sir. I'd certainly appreciate any opportunity to present my talents." Like the ones involving promising looks from beneath long lashes. Stupid girl.
There goes that smile again, so bright, so charming and that spark in his eyes, is it reassuring perhaps to see that sort of humor on the steward's face. And yet there's a certain heavy-lidded laziness to him and the hand that holds hers is so very soft. Soft like he's never done a day's real work in his life. Esraval is after all a paper pusher and clearly spends a great deal of time and money maintaining himself. "Ahh, of course, every part of the world has it's conventions," he replies, making a little moue that could be imitation of some of the Hold's ladies. The caught breath pleases him, by the look in his eyes as his lips brush her knuckles lightly. "I'm sure that every opportunity to put your talents to the test ought to be provided," Esraval says quite deadpan and though he's keeping hold of her hand, he takes another half step closer and bold as brass, his other hand lifts, knuckles turned to slowly trace down the line of her neck and across that pretty decolletage of hers. There's a knowingness in the gesture and an attentiveness to his gaze, gauging her reaction closely. "Do you know that Lady Astrella often gives teas for her ladies at the Hold?" he remarks conversational while his knuckles continue their artful and oddly graceful exploration of her skin. "I would think that that might be an opportunity worth presenting yourself for, hm?"
Chin raised slightly, lengthening her neck, turning up her face just a few degrees in tilt, Jaeyi conscientiously waits until his fingers have made much of their trek before she catches her breath, the curve of cleavage moving now under his hand. "I feel like I ought to say that I wasn't aware of the Lady's teas," she begins carefully, a play-catch of teeth at her lower lip. "But I think you'd probably catch me in the lie, sir. I would very much welcome the chance to come to your Hold. For one of the Lady's teas." Her own fingers twitch briefly where they curl around the back of the chair, like they'd be busy on their own if she let them, but-- "They'll be coming for the linens soon, I imagine."
That lift of soft flesh beneath his hand turns Esraval's fingers over, almost expectant now as index and ring finger trace right along the prettily adorned edge of that bodice. Would he dare more here and now? Hard to tell. "And of course, you're an honest young lady, which is highly commendable," the steward replies, amused. There's a distinct lack of concern on his face about the coming of servants for linens. "Soon," he does agree, lets his fingers dip a little lower, crossing the line where fabric doubtless presses tight into her flesh, more pressure behind his fingertips. That hand lifts then, leaves off teasing her cleavage and takes firm possession of the nape of her neck, tilting her face up towards his. The kiss when it comes is a firm, knowledgable press of lips to lips, tongue included. This is a man accustomed to getting exactly what he wants, when he wants it. When he draws back enough to let her breathe, his words are again soft, holding a seductive note to them: "I look forward to the day you come to the Hold to make tea for Astrella. I'll be waiting for you. Look for the invitation within the month."
Jaeyi's, "Ah!" has a warning note to it for the trespassing fingers, and her own hand does climb at that point, hitching to the bend in his elbow, not enough pressure to actually pull away his hand but enough to imply that some little part of her thinks it should. Whether or not she's actually surprised, she plays it well enough with her fingers briefly tightening at his elbow and then slipping off into a fist that rests against his chest. So easily kissed, afterward with her eyes still closed, a smile coming gradually, she notes in the low voice that suits her best, "It's a tremendous compliment for an apprentice, sir." Tea, one is permitted to assume.
There's actually a little smirk on Esraval's face as she smiles so, while her eyes remain closed. His thumb shifts, brushes along the edge of her neck where there's soft, sensitive skin. Very pleased, is the steward, in spite of that little warning. He has doubtless, no intention of ravishing her right here and right now, but he has no qualms about pushing the bounds of what's acceptable. "I also look forward to paying you many more such compliments," the steward replies and this time, it's the curve of her neck that his lips find, before he releases her, steps back. His hands clasp behind his back and his voice is pitched at a far more conversational level as someone starts to struggle with the partly tied tent flap. "Thank you, Baker, the lunch was lovely and we look forward to working with you again," all business and appropriate politeness. He turns, looks towards the flap as a slightly red-faced worker finally makes it inside with an empty basket. "Beggin' your pardon, sir. Flaps got stuck," she apologizes with a lot of head bobbing and proceeds briskly about to collect the linens. "I must attend to my fiancee," Esraval says airily, dismissing the serving woman from notice after a negligent movement of one hand to acknowledge her presence and her task. "But I do congratulate you on a job well done, good day." Without further ado, he turns on his heel to depart as if he wasn't just feeling her up mere moments ago.
Jaeyi's fingers twist, gathering a handful of his shirt into the crease of her palm, conscientious enough not to do anything that might leave a crease. Even in the little gesture, there's a hint of invitation, a little pull on the fabric, cloooooser. But she's been fooling around behind closed doors long enough that the first rustle of the flap replaces what might have been a soft whisper of pleasure into a quick catch of startled breath. Hastily from enjoying kisses to handing over the linens, the occupation enough to let curls half-cover the color in her cheeks, she only drops a quick curtsy to answer his compliments-- good apprentices don't call shouts at Stewards' backs, after all. They just lower their lashes demurely and appreciate the flattery. They certainly don't drop wry little laughs once they're mostly alone in the tent again; "Attend to his fiancee. I'm not sure if that girl's to be pitied or envied, the poor pretty thing."
That unspoken invitation would doubtless have been answered under different circumstances, but Esraval isn't fool enough to press the issue at this juncture. Either that servant is used to turning a blind eye, or is really fooled as she puts the last of the collected napkins into her basket, bobs a nod Jaeyi's way and ducks back out again after the steward has already departed. Should Jaeyi spy him later at the Gather, he'll be properly engrossed in either Hold business, escorting Isobel or catering to his future father-in-law and pays her only the polite sort of notice that a steward ought to the baker who prepared lunch for him and his guests. Cool as a cucumber.