[Location: Central Mansion/Lobby]
Reinette walked deliberately away from the sounds of the garden fete, hoping to cross some yet to be discovered threshold where the noise sat less abrasively in her ears. Perhaps it was the garden, or the sun. Perhaps it was the delicate scent of the tuberose in bloom that only served to contrast just how artificial everything -- and everyone else -- was.
And really, who was she to cast blame? She was just as practiced as the rest of them, if not moreso. But there was a skill to life at court that too few managed to grasp. The blush of subtlety was lost on them so that what remained was overly coiffed and cinched and loud and uneducated. It was all noise. Merely noise.
And she was lost in it.
The edges of a migraine was dancing between her eyes, painful art comprised by delicate pinpricks of light. Not unlike the Doctor's stars, painted in a different sort of pained strokes.
The noise was not helped, of course, by the now evident conclusion of the more physical aspects of her relationship with Louis. There was always talk, there would always be talk. But now it had escalated still. They watched her warily at first, uncertain of where she now stood in the king's affections. It was not like Louis to linger. She would be nothing to them without his favor. A great many of them had always thought as much, and were merely waiting for the moment where their thoughts aligned with the king and it was no longer required for them to be polite.
But he did linger. Of course he lingered. He was her dearest friend, still. As she was his. That remained unchanged. And though she was still not prepared to examine the more painful edges of the truths that lead her to end their relationship as it stood? And to even chose her own replacement? Reinette knew in her heart that she had done the right thing.
But oh, they did not know what to make of her now. She was no longer the king's lover. But it could not be denied that she still held his heart. And that? They were finally recognizing might only make her more dangerous.
They? As they stood? Were most likely correct.
But for the moment all Reinette could think was that she did not like the noise. The brash pink of one particularly offensive courtier's gown. Nor the way a certain crown of brunette hair looked where it rested so close to Louis' cheek.
It did not matter that she had chosen her for him herself.
It was only on that thought that Reinette realized the path of the garden was no longer beneath her feet. That, in fact, she was no longer within the garden at all. Her gaze lifted upwards.
"Well," she breathed. "This is most unexpected."
And really, who was she to cast blame? She was just as practiced as the rest of them, if not moreso. But there was a skill to life at court that too few managed to grasp. The blush of subtlety was lost on them so that what remained was overly coiffed and cinched and loud and uneducated. It was all noise. Merely noise.
And she was lost in it.
The edges of a migraine was dancing between her eyes, painful art comprised by delicate pinpricks of light. Not unlike the Doctor's stars, painted in a different sort of pained strokes.
The noise was not helped, of course, by the now evident conclusion of the more physical aspects of her relationship with Louis. There was always talk, there would always be talk. But now it had escalated still. They watched her warily at first, uncertain of where she now stood in the king's affections. It was not like Louis to linger. She would be nothing to them without his favor. A great many of them had always thought as much, and were merely waiting for the moment where their thoughts aligned with the king and it was no longer required for them to be polite.
But he did linger. Of course he lingered. He was her dearest friend, still. As she was his. That remained unchanged. And though she was still not prepared to examine the more painful edges of the truths that lead her to end their relationship as it stood? And to even chose her own replacement? Reinette knew in her heart that she had done the right thing.
But oh, they did not know what to make of her now. She was no longer the king's lover. But it could not be denied that she still held his heart. And that? They were finally recognizing might only make her more dangerous.
They? As they stood? Were most likely correct.
But for the moment all Reinette could think was that she did not like the noise. The brash pink of one particularly offensive courtier's gown. Nor the way a certain crown of brunette hair looked where it rested so close to Louis' cheek.
It did not matter that she had chosen her for him herself.
It was only on that thought that Reinette realized the path of the garden was no longer beneath her feet. That, in fact, she was no longer within the garden at all. Her gaze lifted upwards.
"Well," she breathed. "This is most unexpected."