Stars Fade Blue
Someone Will Come
His hands shook by his sides, a nervous tick. He kept running his fingers over each other, picking at his nails and cuticles. Emmerich Yves-Leventhorpe was physically sick with nervousness.
When his parents had told him of their acceptance of the invitation sent by Governor Piccolet, Emerie had simply rolled his eyes. Another attempt to distract me, he had thought. Of course, that was part of their plan. However, when he had informed Chester Litcott, the Lieutenant General, of his obligation in Lenore for a few days, he was surprised by the response he was given.
"In fact," Chester had laughed, "General Hawtrey will be there also." After a moment of silence, he added, "He purchased a summer home there last year and is rather close with Governor Piccolet himself. I imagine he should be pleased to see you there."
Pressure was added on Emerie now. Not only did he have to please his parents by mingling with ladies and making conversation with the other attendees, he also needed to impress his boss. So he was terrified, fretting that perhaps on this evening the general would be disappointed in his could-be successor. The boy---because that's really what he still was---was so frightened by the idea of attending the party that he could barely remember anything about arriving in town or any of the details surrounding the event.
A gentle knock came to his door and he grunted weakly in response. The hinges creaked softly as his younger sister pushed open the wooden feature and peeked in. Seeing that her brother was decent enough, she slid in through the opening and gracefully stepped across the floor to him.
"Oh Emerie, you are hopeless," she sighed and took one of his hands. His pale skin greatly contrasted her light golden glow. He looked down at her, and she smiled through to her golden eyes. "It's a party, and if you do not enjoy yourself, I shall personally embarrass you to Mister Hawtrey. And I demand that you at the very least introduce yourself to Miss Piccolet. After all, it would be quite rude to ignore a lady at her own ball."
Emerie cleared his throat and sighed, catching a last glance at himself in the mirror above the water basin. He was clean-shaven and his dark hair was charmingly disheveled. His mind traveled to thoughts of how dissimilar he and his sister were.
"You'll always be my closest friend, Cosette," he told her. With a shining smile, she let go of his hand and crossed her arms.
"You can't flatter yourself out of this, Emmerich. I'll introduce you if I have to," she told him. They shared a smile as she started to straighten out his cravat and button his waistcoat.
Although she did not mention it, her brother could tell that she was also nervous. At eighteen, Cosette was in need of a husband. It was a fear of hers that she would end up alone---a very nasty omen for a family name---and if she did not marry soon, she would. Society would prevent her from finding anyone willing to marry someone older when most eligible "women" were approximately sixteen. Cosette hoped to find someone at this celebration, anyone.
It was not that she was ill-looking or plain, but her personality and presence detracted from her beauty. Even though most men seek obedient and traditional wives, lack of personality was notattractive.
"Someone will come for you, Cosette," Emerie whispered, taking his sister's hands as she finished his last button. She offered a meek smile to him and sighed. He pulled her into a tight hug and rested his chin atop her head of golden hair. "No one deserves you, but someone will come…"
After long seconds passed in their sibling affection, Emmerich led his sister by the arm out of his room and to the lounge of the inn where their parents waited. Both brother and sister lit up at the sight of their mother using her thumb to wipe off her husband's missed shaving cream. It was obvious to not only their children, but also the other inn guests, how much the Earl and Countess were in love. Arranged marriage or not, there had always been something there.
Whether or not Emmerich and Cosette were aware, they both shared the same brief thoughts, wishes that they could have something like that; they both wanted something powerful. Of course, considering his past thoughts on the matter of marriage, Emmerich dismissed the idea as soon as it came. Cosette, however, let the fluttering of her dreams linger for the rest of the night, fueling her persistence to find a husband.
As a family, the four of them were prepared. They were a full day's travel away from home, and all six younger children were home with the governess and butler. Expensive fabrics covered each of them, illustrating their wealth to all who looked upon them. Each Leventhorpe had different motives for the evening, and as they all stepped out into the warm emerging night, they envisioned their communications.
Their coach was led by four practically identical horses. Four tall, purely white horses stood calmly waiting to travel. Their silky white manes were long and wavy, strands dancing in the light breeze. Their hooves were all pinkish, as were their muzzles and around their eyes. Simply having one of these horses would have satisfied anyone's curiosity as to the wealth of the Earl, but having four secured him an everlasting spot on every person's subconscious list of people whose families they would like to marry their children into.
The hooves of the horses thundered on the dirt roads. Inside of the coach, the Earl and his family were silent, enjoying their last few moments of serenity before the lively party's sounds filled their ears. Emerie was the only one that had something to say, but held it in.
They arrived at the governor's manor just as the sun was almost gone below the horizon. The coach stopped before the grand doors where a doorman stood on either side. Emerie stepped out of the coach first after their driver opened the door. He assisted both his sister then mother before their father came out and joined them. As they each took deep breaths, Emerie took his sister's arm and led her to the door.
His gut wrenched like great waves on the ocean, churning and sloshing trying to find balance. He felt something in those moments it took to reach the entrance, but at that moment it was a feeling of utter distress and dread. Emmerich Yves-Leventhorpe was physically sick with nervousness, and there was nothing he could do about it now.
If ever you find mistakes, or something that should be checked over, feel free to message me. I'd like to reserve the comment section for likes/dislikes/commentary, not errors. Thanks for reading and, if you really like it, subscribe. It takes all of ten seconds. =]
When his parents had told him of their acceptance of the invitation sent by Governor Piccolet, Emerie had simply rolled his eyes. Another attempt to distract me, he had thought. Of course, that was part of their plan. However, when he had informed Chester Litcott, the Lieutenant General, of his obligation in Lenore for a few days, he was surprised by the response he was given.
"In fact," Chester had laughed, "General Hawtrey will be there also." After a moment of silence, he added, "He purchased a summer home there last year and is rather close with Governor Piccolet himself. I imagine he should be pleased to see you there."
Pressure was added on Emerie now. Not only did he have to please his parents by mingling with ladies and making conversation with the other attendees, he also needed to impress his boss. So he was terrified, fretting that perhaps on this evening the general would be disappointed in his could-be successor. The boy---because that's really what he still was---was so frightened by the idea of attending the party that he could barely remember anything about arriving in town or any of the details surrounding the event.
A gentle knock came to his door and he grunted weakly in response. The hinges creaked softly as his younger sister pushed open the wooden feature and peeked in. Seeing that her brother was decent enough, she slid in through the opening and gracefully stepped across the floor to him.
"Oh Emerie, you are hopeless," she sighed and took one of his hands. His pale skin greatly contrasted her light golden glow. He looked down at her, and she smiled through to her golden eyes. "It's a party, and if you do not enjoy yourself, I shall personally embarrass you to Mister Hawtrey. And I demand that you at the very least introduce yourself to Miss Piccolet. After all, it would be quite rude to ignore a lady at her own ball."
Emerie cleared his throat and sighed, catching a last glance at himself in the mirror above the water basin. He was clean-shaven and his dark hair was charmingly disheveled. His mind traveled to thoughts of how dissimilar he and his sister were.
"You'll always be my closest friend, Cosette," he told her. With a shining smile, she let go of his hand and crossed her arms.
"You can't flatter yourself out of this, Emmerich. I'll introduce you if I have to," she told him. They shared a smile as she started to straighten out his cravat and button his waistcoat.
Although she did not mention it, her brother could tell that she was also nervous. At eighteen, Cosette was in need of a husband. It was a fear of hers that she would end up alone---a very nasty omen for a family name---and if she did not marry soon, she would. Society would prevent her from finding anyone willing to marry someone older when most eligible "women" were approximately sixteen. Cosette hoped to find someone at this celebration, anyone.
It was not that she was ill-looking or plain, but her personality and presence detracted from her beauty. Even though most men seek obedient and traditional wives, lack of personality was notattractive.
"Someone will come for you, Cosette," Emerie whispered, taking his sister's hands as she finished his last button. She offered a meek smile to him and sighed. He pulled her into a tight hug and rested his chin atop her head of golden hair. "No one deserves you, but someone will come…"
After long seconds passed in their sibling affection, Emmerich led his sister by the arm out of his room and to the lounge of the inn where their parents waited. Both brother and sister lit up at the sight of their mother using her thumb to wipe off her husband's missed shaving cream. It was obvious to not only their children, but also the other inn guests, how much the Earl and Countess were in love. Arranged marriage or not, there had always been something there.
Whether or not Emmerich and Cosette were aware, they both shared the same brief thoughts, wishes that they could have something like that; they both wanted something powerful. Of course, considering his past thoughts on the matter of marriage, Emmerich dismissed the idea as soon as it came. Cosette, however, let the fluttering of her dreams linger for the rest of the night, fueling her persistence to find a husband.
As a family, the four of them were prepared. They were a full day's travel away from home, and all six younger children were home with the governess and butler. Expensive fabrics covered each of them, illustrating their wealth to all who looked upon them. Each Leventhorpe had different motives for the evening, and as they all stepped out into the warm emerging night, they envisioned their communications.
Their coach was led by four practically identical horses. Four tall, purely white horses stood calmly waiting to travel. Their silky white manes were long and wavy, strands dancing in the light breeze. Their hooves were all pinkish, as were their muzzles and around their eyes. Simply having one of these horses would have satisfied anyone's curiosity as to the wealth of the Earl, but having four secured him an everlasting spot on every person's subconscious list of people whose families they would like to marry their children into.
The hooves of the horses thundered on the dirt roads. Inside of the coach, the Earl and his family were silent, enjoying their last few moments of serenity before the lively party's sounds filled their ears. Emerie was the only one that had something to say, but held it in.
They arrived at the governor's manor just as the sun was almost gone below the horizon. The coach stopped before the grand doors where a doorman stood on either side. Emerie stepped out of the coach first after their driver opened the door. He assisted both his sister then mother before their father came out and joined them. As they each took deep breaths, Emerie took his sister's arm and led her to the door.
His gut wrenched like great waves on the ocean, churning and sloshing trying to find balance. He felt something in those moments it took to reach the entrance, but at that moment it was a feeling of utter distress and dread. Emmerich Yves-Leventhorpe was physically sick with nervousness, and there was nothing he could do about it now.
If ever you find mistakes, or something that should be checked over, feel free to message me. I'd like to reserve the comment section for likes/dislikes/commentary, not errors. Thanks for reading and, if you really like it, subscribe. It takes all of ten seconds. =]