Voice Post//The Palace//Action

[treadingdawn]

[The sound of gentle music and the voices of fashionably cultured people maintain a balance of warm springtime harmony, until...]

This drink, I like it. Another!

[SMASH: the sound of something delicate, either glass or porcelain, shattering on the ground, because Caspian just threw it down there.]

Comments

Action

[totallyinaband]

[Yes, the palace servant Stephane is serving this casual garden party. And now he is going to have to clean up this mess.

Sometimes, he really hates his job.]

Right away, Monsieur.

Action

[forthathorizon]

[Wait wait, don't go yet. The visiting Spanish noble has a special request.]

Bring sugars and creams with you, not the crystal white or the milky ivory varieties respectively. I shall have brown like the gloss of honey and a cream whose lightness suggests it was flogged by only the most experienced of quartermasters.

[totallyinaband]

[It is taking all of Stephane's extensive servant training not to make any kind of exasperated expression at him.]

Brown sugar and light cream? Right away.

[ooc: Oh God, he's on of those guys who'd order a non-fat, no foam, extra hot two-shot latte with one raw sugar and two pumps of vanilla, isn't he? :-D /former barista]

[forthathorizon]

Wait, leave not my company so quickly, young man. [Caspian's younger than Stephane oops.] I tire of these sweets--no I misspeak. These sweets are indeed palatable but I yearn for...

[Thinking thinking thinking, and the music swells just as Caspian begins a speech on:]

The sweets of a faraway land, a pastry spun into slender bends and fried to perfection, coated in only the finest sugar, the purest cinnamon, served with a saucer of thick cream. The churro. Do you know what a churro is?

[ooc: HAHAHA SOB barista torture is totally what I had in mind yes.]

[forthathorizon]

[Without missing a beat.]

No palace can call itself such if it has not enough wares to share with its guests at all times.

[He looks around to the source of the voice, flashing a smile.]

[forthathorizon]

[Caspian stands to return the curtsy with a handsome bow. He doesn't reclaim his seat and won't until the lady in his company claims one for herself first, even if it is his own chair. It is the gentleman's way.]

I confess it pleases me you ask. There are habits and then there are traditions of which this is the latter. [Then a more regal bow.] Caspian X, my lady.

[wandbreaker]

You do know that those aren't free, right?

[forthathorizon]

And the price?

[wandbreaker]

You might want to ask one of the servants.

[forthathorizon]

I should ask our host.

audio ][

[adamantined]

[Well she's not cursed, but still -]

Why am I not surprised?

audio ][

[forthathorizon]

Then you must be from foreign lands too.

audio ][

[adamantined]

All the way across the sea. What are you drinking?

audio ][

[forthathorizon]

A very curious recipe for coffee, hardly the dark bitter but eyeopening fare one takes on a morning ride to warm the spirit.

[7thborn]

Is there anything I can do for Your Lordship?

[Says the redheaded young woman who appears at his side on silent feet just moments before dipping into a smooth curtsy. Somewhere, the uncursed part of Ginny is appalled, but for however long the City wishes it, she is Ginevra, maid at the palace of Versailles and she has the manners and bonnet to prove it.]

[forthathorizon]

Cakes. Do you have cakes?

[Although this nobleman knows his place (higher than most others, especially maids) Caspian still has the decency to exchange brilliant smiles with the hired help. Her prompt silent arrival is encouraging and speaks lengths of her efficiency as a maid too.]

[7thborn]

Of course we have cakes, my lord. You are in France, after all.

[There is the barest trace of a smile on her lips before her expression is schooled into something more neutral. Her characteristic cheekiness needs to be kept in check amongst the nobles or she'll draw attention. Her brothers would be so disappointed to lose an informant in the palace.

Another polite bob, eyes carefully averted.]

If it pleases Your Lordship, might I suggest le gâteau au chocolat?

[forthathorizon]

Chocolat, the word is like music to my Telmarine ears.

[He lifts his chin, eyes bright, like he might just break out into song over the merits and sweetness of all that is chocolate.] Might there be cocoa, then? Gateau au chocolat and cocoa with which to lubricate the passage towards a satisfying feast?

[Yes Ginny, you heard him right. Sob.]