And do you take this poncey noble to be your husband...
Who: Sir Gilbert Beilschmidt and his wife-to-be, Elizaveta.
When: Mid-afternoon, June 11th
Where: In Gilbert's private chambers.
What: Since Gilbert is apprently getting married, he needs Liz to help him practice. For the ceremony. That is totally happening. Totally.
This was, by far, his best plan yet.
Sitting against a door, he leaned his head back against the white stained wood, thumb running over the head of his cane as he grinned to himself. On the other side, he could hear the rustling of skirts, the fussing of servants and Elizaveta's voice over it all, telling people to stop poking her with needles and putting flowers in her hair because it already smelt like a friggin' garden.
His knuckles tapped against the door and he opened it an inch, just to let his voice drift in. "I really appreciate this Liz," he said, hoping she couldn't hear the conniving smile on his lips, because ruining the plan at this point would be most unfortunate. "I mean- I know it's such a rush job and all, but my wife-to-be just- found me and demanded we get married, so..."
Letting his voice trail off, he sat up a little straighter as one of the maids came over, brushing off her apron of flowers and clearing her throat. "Lord Beilschmidt," she said in a tinkling voice, "she's ready~"
Oh yeah.
Totally. Brilliant.
Gilbert smiled at the maid before pushing the door open a little wider, staring at the servant whom he'd been pining after for years now. And it actually took him a moment to recognise her because her hair wasn't up in a bun and she wasn't in that nasty ol' dress she always wore.
"You look alright." He said, eyes drifting over the flowers in her hair. "Not that it matters since this is all for pretend in the end."
As far as she knew, at least.
When: Mid-afternoon, June 11th
Where: In Gilbert's private chambers.
What: Since Gilbert is apprently getting married, he needs Liz to help him practice. For the ceremony. That is totally happening. Totally.
This was, by far, his best plan yet.
Sitting against a door, he leaned his head back against the white stained wood, thumb running over the head of his cane as he grinned to himself. On the other side, he could hear the rustling of skirts, the fussing of servants and Elizaveta's voice over it all, telling people to stop poking her with needles and putting flowers in her hair because it already smelt like a friggin' garden.
His knuckles tapped against the door and he opened it an inch, just to let his voice drift in. "I really appreciate this Liz," he said, hoping she couldn't hear the conniving smile on his lips, because ruining the plan at this point would be most unfortunate. "I mean- I know it's such a rush job and all, but my wife-to-be just- found me and demanded we get married, so..."
Letting his voice trail off, he sat up a little straighter as one of the maids came over, brushing off her apron of flowers and clearing her throat. "Lord Beilschmidt," she said in a tinkling voice, "she's ready~"
Oh yeah.
Totally. Brilliant.
Gilbert smiled at the maid before pushing the door open a little wider, staring at the servant whom he'd been pining after for years now. And it actually took him a moment to recognise her because her hair wasn't up in a bun and she wasn't in that nasty ol' dress she always wore.
"You look alright." He said, eyes drifting over the flowers in her hair. "Not that it matters since this is all for pretend in the end."
As far as she knew, at least.