(1866-10-03) Courtesan Chat
Courtesan Chat
Summary: Marguerite encounters Julieta at the Academy, they share a bit of wine and conversation, tackling the subjects of Julieta's plan to move out of the Academy and her student Raevyn who is soon to graduate.
Date: 03-10/10/2015 (Date of RP)
Related: Jules/Raevyn logs.
NPCs: {$npc}
Players:
Marguerite  Julieta  

Courtesan Academy - Four Corners
The Salon of the two story building housing the local academy of courtesans is an impressive hall with a high ceiling, its walls painted all in white, to form a somewhat clean contrast to the colourful high windows of stained-glass which shed a colorful light during the day. The images depicted encompass scenes of study and accomplishment, such as young maidens playing the lute, studying the art of the quill as well as a number of books. However, any bawdy pictures of the more private entertainment the courtesans are instructed in will be looked for in vain. This is the Courtesan Academy of Four Corners, not just some primitive brothel.
To one side of the hall is a long table with a number of chairs carved from finest cherry wood - sometimes joined by a second table on larger events. Here courtesans can show they are capable of holding their own in polite conversations during official dinners. To the other side is a comfortable seating area with cushions of red and purple brocade, arranged about a number of low tables for enjoyment of refreshments and a more private setting for conversations. In the middle of the hall, however, is a podium, where young aspiring courtesans can show some of their arts, reciting poetry as well as performances of music or dancing.
The Salon may be the place to establish contacts with courtesans; it is not the place however, to engage in improper behaviour of any kind.
Octobre 3rd, 1866

Brought up in her mother's house and having scant need, ever, to haunt the salons of the academy in the hope of seeing her own glow reflected in wealthy eyes, the Gilded Lily is not an habituée of that elegant pale stone building — but she does nonetheless appear now and again within its walls, to send a shiver of envy through the girls in training, to tighten the stomachs of some of the boys. And, today, not long past the customary hour of the mid-day meal, she has come from Madame Orlévais's private chambers when she catches sight of a familiar lithe creature ahead of her in a long, airy upstairs corridor.

She takes a swifter step or so, inspiring a magnificent billowing of her full-skirted white silk gown and the golden veil which shields red hair pinned up in an intricate lattice of braids and coils. The expensive palette which went some way in years past toward making her such a noticeable figure and inspiring her byname: only a woman with deep coffers, surely, can wear spotless white so often in a great, dirty city… "Julieta—?" she calls lightly, on a whim of the moment, raising the closed ivory fan in her hand in order to wave.

And it's just as the woman she has hailed might turn to glance behind her, that Marguerite's garments sway into stillness and her lips curve into a smile of greeting.

Julieta pauses in her swift and elegant steps, turning to face whomever was calling her name, she attired in a dress of burgundy red, plain at first glance, but in fact made a finest fabric and competent cut, using the lack of adornment as a device to actually attract attention to the Pearl's natural beauty - dark brown tresses, held together in a knot at the back of her neck, in a slightly loose way, allowing strands to slip out and frame a comely face with hazel brown eyes. A rather plain piece of jewelry adorns her neck, could it be silver? With a pendant of more artistic value than worth of material, using the green splinters of a malachite in a depiction of an eagle.

The grace used in the simple act of halting in her steps, the proud manner in with that head turns ever-so-slightly, before the Pearl turns fully, her skirts whirling in a faint billow, and offers a curtsey - not so much in following the required customs, but rather to display her charming technique to the Gilded Lily. "Marguerite," she smiles amiably. "What a delightful surprise." A few steps are taken to cross the distance towards her rather competent competition, her hands nonetheless extended to accept those of the Lavecq in a perhaps surprisingly heartfelt greeting. "What are you doing here, at the Academy?", Julieta inquires, after applying a very elegant almost-kiss to the cheek of Marguerite. The question, in fact, legitimate, when Marguerite does not live at the Academy, but at the manse she shares with her mother.

One of Marguerite's long-fingered hands catches up with negligent grace a fold of her gown; she answers Julieta's curtsey with a gesture towards one of her own, briefer and shallower for the sake of having both hands ready to clasp Julieta's when they meet. "Oh," she sighs, leaning in to bring her lips near, but not too near, and kiss the air touched with Julieta's fragrance, "Madame Orlévais asked me to call on her…" And she need say no more, for that lady's respected position within their hothouse of a community ensures that she need only lift her finger to beckon.

The Lily does, however, say a little more, her voice lowered confidentially, her hands lingering in Julieta's with the length of her ivory fan warm between her palm and her… friend's? Well, no, let's not go too far. Let's keep these things in their proper perspective. "She asked me again if I would consider an apprentice — but I don't see, I truly don't, where I'd find the time to look after someone well…"

"Oh!", Julieta says in a sound of surprised delight expressing acknowledgement as well, "I see." Her hands lets go of those of the other, and surprise shifts into a knowing smile when the Lily lets the information slip about the matter for which she was summoned by the Madame. "Taking on an apprentice is a responsibility," the Pearl concedes softly. "I may take a break from tutoring others, after Arieta has graduated so well, and with Raevyn about to take his test in the weeks to come, I will be soon out of that kind of commitment." Her hazel eyes drift over Marguerite's frame and she smiles. "You look astonishing as always. I daresay, your admirers would leave you little time for such a task. And you have other commitments as well…" Those of a daughter and a mother, under her own roof.

There is a moment of hesitation that does not last longer than the blink of an eye. Before Julieta's fingers move to the Lily's shoulder, resting there gently if allowed. "Mayhaps you'd like to come along with me to my chamber, I may have a glass of wine to offer. In fact, I may also have a thing or two, I wanted to speak with you about…?" There is a glance of those hazel eyes to Marguerite's, locking gazes there briefly, as the Pearl's lips stay curled into a faint smile and a brow lifts to give some emphasis to the half-question.

Oh, goodness. Of course she's allowed. Marguerite is hardly a woman to shy away from being touched — when the one touching is a friend, more or less, and so entirely agreeable… "Oh!" she says gently. "Perhaps it's a little early in the day, but a glass would do no harm, would it? And, if I can be of any service…? I'm engaged later," she confesses, as though it could be any surprise, "but now…" For a wonder, she sounds genuine; and her wide blue-grey eyes rest softly upon Julieta's.

If she's led away, she'll simply follow.

And led away she is. They follow the corridor to a door a bit further, passing the dormitories of the courtesans, those of lesser privilege and those still in training. It seems Julieta is fortunate to have claimed a whole chamber for her own, she admitting the Lily into her room to close the door behind her. The chamber is of little more than small size, holds a bed, a table and a chair; and a chest with Julieta’s belongings in a corner. A window admits the day of light and offers a nice view over the marketplace. The bed is orderly made, intended from its size to allow only one single person to sleep in it, sheets, blanket and pillow emitting a clean yet slightly flowery scent.

“Pray, have a seat.”, the Pearl suggests with a gesture towards either bed or chair, the choice will be for Marguerite to make, while her dark-haired colleague moves over to the table where a flagon of red wine is waiting with a cup; a cup that will soon be joined by a second, Julieta takes out of her chest. “You’d like some wine then, I’ll take it?”, she inquires while she is already in the process of pouring them. “And I am glad to hear there is some engagement for later. Mine own schedule for today is less busy, I have to admit.” The cup is offered along with a smile to the Gilded Lily, before Julieta claims hers and raises it. “To business.”

A sip of the wine is taken, a special Romante Red brand known to be best had while it’s particularly young. The Pearl’s eyes drift over the room, before they focus once again on her guest. “It’s not much of a place. But who am I to complain. I’ve stayed here already for two years, and it felt convenient, given I am teaching some of the students.”, she admits with a slightly apologetic smile. “And in a way, I’ve found it hard to leave the Academy. So far.”

The Gilded Lily stands at the centre of Julieta's private world and takes in all at a glance — or half a glance, really, there's so little to see… Her eyes linger, with an appalled fascination she hardly troubles to hide, upon the window which can't be opened without admitting the noise and dust of the marketplace, the chest which can hardly be supposed to hold an extensive wardrobe of gowns, the single lute propped in the corner, the bed just big enough for one and its fresh yet absolutely plain linens… She accepts the cup of wine in an unresisting hand, offers graceful thanks by instinct, and with a swirl of pristine white skirts settles herself on the edge of the bed. Her experience of life has been that very few people mind her sitting on their beds.

"But Julieta," she murmurs tenderly, "you must leave. The Pearl of Four Corners can't live here— ! Why, I've seen oysters more spacious, and better-appointed. It's beneath your dignity, to say nothing of the inconvenience of having nowhere to receive your admirers — what have girls and boys to aspire to for themselves, if they see their esteemed teacher, a woman at the head of their profession, with no more to her name than…?" Her shoulders shift in a slight, elegant shrug. "Are you— have you a great many obligations…?" An inquiry issued with the appropriate delicacy and diffidence. "I do understand the calls one may have upon one's purse," she sighs, for within their world everyone knows she has a mother, a daughter, and a ne'er-do-well younger brother to think of; "but something can always be managed, you know." Thus speaks the canny businesswoman of Four Corners, adept in the art of receiving what she needs at a staggering discount — or as an outright tribute. "It's to any landlord's advantage," she points out, "to be able to boast that he or she has a tenant of your stature."

One mustn't suppose Marguerite has strolled into someone else's chamber merely in order to be impolite about it. She's so distracted by her concern for Julieta's situation — for Julieta not receiving her due — that she hasn't touched her wine.

The Pearl of Four Corners does note the Gilded Lily’s reaction. Why, she must have expected it. A faint smile curls her lips as she sits down on the chair, crossing one leg over the other, as she takes a another sip from her cup of wine. “I am aware,” she admits with a slight roll of her hazel eyes. “But then again… The Great Raid, and then another incident in Marse have persuaded me to stay longer in these rather safe walls. It’s true. It is not a place to receive an admirer, but there are certainly other options.” The corners of her lips lift even more, as she shoots Marguerite a rather pointed glance at her slightly personal question about her financial situation. “I have rather few admirers,” she admits with a fine smile. “In fact, there have been a few months during which I concentrated more on teaching than practicing the trade. But… it seems things have gone well recently, and I could certainly afford,” an odd stress given that single word, “quarters of mine own. I do have an account at our dear Councillor Thynne’s bank. There are savings. Even if some of my earnings have been used to… provide for my family.” Yes, Julieta knows of the trials of family. Even if hers is content to receive money instead of time with her, and she couldn’t feel more apart from them, through her years of training and refinement.

Marguerite Lavecq’s next remark has one of those shapely brows lift with elegant eagerness, intrigued, as the Pearl is by the direction their conversation is taking. “Would you, perchance, know any such landlord, who would have lodgings available for rent?”, Julieta inquires, her eyes glinting.

At the mention of Julieta's family, Marguerite can only nod. Of course. It's understood. When there's one courtesan in a family — one working courtesan, Léonie Lavecq having more or less retired (in order to pursue her own interests, which bear a striking resemblance to her erstwhile profession) — there's a certain responsibility… One raises oneself above one's blood relations; and then one pays for it. Again and again.

"Oh… Off the top of my head…?" And she shakes the lovely head in question, those lustrous red braids beneath that filmy and flowing golden veil. "But," and there's a flash of her eyes, a curve of her red mouth, "I'll undertake to find you one, my dear. For your sake, really for all our sakes. I know what's fitting to you, Julieta, even if you're not certain yourself—! You have done very well; and you ought to reap the rewards… I know, better than anyone," she promises her colleague earnestly, "that being a courtesan isn't just cakes and wine, and sonnets from beautiful young lovers; but there are compensations, and one ought to take them, don't you feel…?" Upon which note, the Gilded Lily recollects the cup of wine she seems to be holding in her hand. She sips. Her expression shifts — and she essays a soft laugh. "A gift, wasn't it? It's very good of you to share it with me. I hope he wouldn't object."

That shake of the head is perceived with a momentary hint of disappointment in Julieta’s gaze, her posture shifting into a slightly more relaxed attitude, leaning back, the cup of wine held in one hand as the fingers of the other move over the fabric of her skirts. “I’d be very grateful, Marguerite,” the Pearl smiles then, “and I agree. It is time for some grandeur, I am very much aware of that. A habitat that fits the exclusivity of my client list.” Not much need for persuasion there, as Julieta’s mind already seems to be made up on the matter. “I trust in your taste and competence in that matter. And… if you should happen to find something appropriate I will owe you a favor.” Said, as the Pearl raises her cup in a toast. “And yes. It’s a gift. I am sure he who gifted it to me does not mind me sharing the wine with one of my… fairest acquaintances,” she remarks, with amusement glinting in her eyes; eyes that will hold Marguerite’s gaze as she takes a sip from her cup.

The cup in Marguerite's hand lifts in a reflection of Julieta's own impeccable gesture; they share that amused look, the Lily's smile deepening as she savours the fine vintage shared by the Pearl. "Then we're quite agreed. … I can't recall the last time I bought wine," she confesses, "and I'm glad you're well provided-for, too, at least so far as having something to drink in your lonely chamber. Such a useful present, isn't it? It doesn't matter in the least if one has two or three the same—!" She gives a soft sigh and rests the stem of the cup upon her knee, and regards Julieta with lazy, rather affectionate consideration. Is the affection real, or only a habit with her — a sort of protective colouration? Looking so kindly upon others, so they'll look kindly upon her? Well, who knows? "You did mention," she offers at last, "something you'd like to discuss…? Was it your living arrangements, or…?" She lifts a shoulder quizzically.

Amusement flashes on the Pearl’s features. “Oh, I usually help myself from the Academy’s supplies. You know, living here certainly has its advantages. We have good quality wine, and good food.” Her hazel eyes lower a tad, and the smile curling her lips deepens. “With occasional social events and visits from potentially interested people, to make contacts… the Madame makes sure we are well provisioned. We never have cheap wine on offer. A subtle hint to the costly delights that can be provided, given a respective arrangement is made.” She chuckles, a soft, melodious chuckle, as her hazel eyes return to regard the bottle of wine on her table. “I rarely receive wine as a gift. But when it occurs it is useful indeed. My admirers… tend to impress me with costlier tokens.”

Julieta meets the affectionate consideration with perhaps a hint of surprise, but even so, she counters it with a kind gaze. “The living arrangements have been part of that, aye,” she replies, before she takes another sip of wine, her eyes lingering on Marguerite Lavecq over the rim of her cup, as she does. “And I am happy you will be helping me in this. As for another thing that occupies me presently… I’d probably not bother you, as… well, you are not used to training students. In this case…” she pauses, to put the cup down onto the table, her hands joining about her knee, slender fingers interlacing with each other. “I am contemplating my own student, whose studies I already mentioned will soon conclude. The One above willing.”

Ah, if they're speaking of advantages… the Gilded Lily could list a few of her own, courtesy of her mother's manse and her upbringing within its walls. She forbears to do so, however, smiling with the faintest hint of shyness and pursuing the subject of wine alone. "In truth, what I drink comes more by the case than the bottle; and then, when a gentleman visits me, I can be sure of serving him what he likes. It's one of those pleasant little comforts they seem to like to arrange for me, just to show they can. I have understandings which provide my household with — oh, all manner of treats," admits Marguerite, "apart from, oh, real gifts, the sort one wears about one's neck…" She nods, indeed perhaps she almost winks, at Julieta's own necklace. "I'm not too proud to accept wine from a man who gives also rubies."

And then their talk becomes more serious and she simply listens, taking another sip or two from her cup. "… Now, the girl, Arieta, has certainly graduated, for she dined not long ago with an admirer of mine — if you mean someone we have discussed — the boy, Raevyn?" she says at last, only guessing. "Something is troubling you? Perhaps… you are not so certain he shall graduate as planned?"

Julieta smiles and inclines her head. “Perhaps your gentlemen offer those little delightful additions to your household knowing you will be the one to profit from them.” Her gaze drifts about her chamber. “I have hardly the storage room required to keep a whole casket of wine, and if stored in the cellars of the Academy… well, my admirer couldn’t be sure I would be the one enjoying it.” her shoulders lift in a light shrug. “It’s perhaps the benefit of living alone that will inspire such accommodating gestures, don’t you think?” Her fingers lift to her rather modest piece of jewelry. “Of course,” the Pearl smiles. “And I daresay, you’ll inspire even more generous tokens, in that regard.” A knowing glance is exchanged with the other woman, as they both are so aware of expensive jewelry being one very vital requirement of gaining a courtesan’s favor.

Hazel eyes flit downwards, when Marguerite comments on Arieta. “She is very promising indeed, and I had the pleasure to instruct her particularly in lute playing and refined conversation.” A warm smile appears on the Pearl’s features. “I am glad to hear she is already living up to our high expectations.” The smile dims a tad, while a slight fondness remains in her gaze. “Aye, Raevyn. He… is a rather unusual case of a student. He’s had some bardic training prior, and I daresay, fate hasn’t treated him kindly. Even so… I glimpsed a potential in him. You saw him at the soiree. He is a gifted musician, and he has also already has some success with… charming others.”

Again Marguerite listens, her smile and the slow, occasional nodding of her head inviting Julieta to fill the silence between them however she pleases, for as long as she pleases. Any courtesan, after all, is a deep well of secrets. The difference is in how easily a third party may drop in a bucket… And if no one knows, after four years and more, who was the father of her child, isn't that proof enough the younger Lavecq possesses a discretion admittedly not among the elder's most striking qualities?

"I'm not certain," she admits, with a wryly amused twist of her lips, "that Arieta was my friend's choice for any merits but her looks — I did put him in a certain position — but if she draws his attention again it certainly shall be because, given the chance, she took it…" And of that the Gilded Lily sounds discreetly approving. "I haven't really met young Raevyn," she concedes. "Only heard his music and sensed, perhaps, something of his nature in that impetuous virtuoso attack upon the instrument… But I know he has been less than a year in the academy, perhaps— seven or eight months?" She inclines her head, veil shimmering as she awaits some sign from Julieta.

When she receives it she goes on. "Bardic training, one artistic gift of note, a measure of charm…" She lists his credentials rather more coolly than did Julieta, and without reiterating that allowance her colleague gave for the workings of fate in the boy's life. "You were… Forgive me, Julieta, but you were eight years in the academy, weren't you, before your debut? And however long that time might have seemed whilst you lived it — it has paid off for you in the success you have enjoyed since. It was not too long a time, if it made you the woman who in less than another three years could create herself as the Pearl of Four Corners. Has your pupil truly learned in eight months what you learned in eight years? How… refined, shall we say, is his conversation…?" Her tone is more curious than dubious, though she has perhaps picked up a few little cues from Julieta's demeanour and her choice of words. "Am I near the mark, or — has his more personal behaviour beneath this roof given you reason for concern? Young men, you know… They're not quite like us, are they?"

“Arieta is a delightful creature,” Julieta states with fondness glinting in her hazel eyes - fondness that has grown over the years this particular student has been in her care, for the aforementioned lessons in lute-playing and conversation. “If your friend has attended the soirée, I can pretty much understand how she became his choice of company for that dinner.” A brow is raised in amused curiosity, as to Marguerite's hint about putting that friend into a position of sorts, even so, Julieta will not inquire further - the worth of discretion being a principle known and acknowledged by all courtesans.

It is the Lily’s assessment of Raevyn that seems to be of more interest to the Pearl, her gaze grows distant for a moment as she digests the comments. “Aye…”, Julieta concedes after a moment. “His time with us has been brief, still, I found him to take on the principles of our trade with a natural affinity… It is true, in regards to musical entertainment there was little left for us to teach him. And a lot of those knowledge skills have been covered through his time of bardic training. As for his social skills…” Her words trail off and she bites her lip. “He used to work as a servant for a nobleman, which has given him an advantage, I daresay.” Still… the pause following and the way she bites her lip in a moment of hesitation suggests a BUT long before she continues.

“Mine own education has taken seven years,” Julieta explains. “But I was a young girl of no education whatsoever, not at all used to move with confidence in the world of nobility. I had to learn to read and write first, before I could even tackle the challenge of a cultivated handwriting. I had to work my way through a large pile of tomes on history, art, to learn an instrument! Dancing lessons, and so many of them, where I acquired the ability to move with grace that would draw the eye. And… linguistic lessons, that made my lower class Four Corners accent fade, exercises in phrasing and writing essays, the ability to develop and present an interesting thesis…” Her hand makes a gesture, summarizing all other areas which she so far has not even mentioned. “It took all these years to create the Pearl from a girl called Jules. To learn… refinement.” A shy smile flickers briefly over Julieta’s features, as if to speak of her humble origins allowed a glimpse at the girl she had once been.

“Raevyn…”, she sighs. “He is educated, musically skilled, as well as with words. It seems he already had mastered much of what courtesans have to learn, prior to joining this Academy. What he lacks…” Hazel eyes are lowered, a deep breath is drawn, “is the confidence to know his worth. To convey that others need to work to gain his favor. He is so free in bestowing it, and… quick to put all of his heart into an engagement. He’s had two admirers - male ones - and with both of them he’s become truly infatuated. There was a situation once…” She sighs, “where he was in public with his client, and then the other happened to come along. A situation which he found difficult to handle. I think that may be his main problem - to accept his profession to be such. And to keep the relation to a client on a professional level.”

Well, indeed, Marguerite's friend was in attendance at that recent soirée— but rather than pursue the subject she lets it rest where it lies upon the bare floor between them, saluting it only with a deepening curve of her shapely lips. Almost as though to suggest she might know something Julieta does not, or has forgotten. (Namely, that whilst Arieta was displaying the considerable charms of her youth as a silhouette behind a screen — Guillaume Tyres was oblivious, his back to the dais, compelled by nothing more than his urge to lure the Gilded Lily away to a more private rendezvous. Even when she sought to direct his attention to the performance, he turned from her too late to see anything of it. But discretion, of course—! Always discretion.)

At Julieta's last all Marguerite can do is to set aside her empty cup of wine and rest a graceful hand palm up upon her knees pressed together and sigh. "And yet you still maintain, he has — 'a natural affinity', for 'the principles of our trade'? Julieta," she reproves gently, her blue-grey eyes wide and infinitely tender, "if it is your recommendation that Madame Orlévais is relying upon, your greater knowledge of his capacities, of his own nature, from all the time you've spent together… If you truly care for this young man, you'll consider long and hard whether to…"

And she sighs again, and changes tack. "To pass a test isn't so difficult, even when it is calculated to show off where one is weakest as an artist. But to live the life, to swim rather than to sink—? If he gives his heart to his admirers, they'll eat him alive," she maintains more firmly. "You know they will."

“Can I really?”, Julieta counters, her gaze following Marguerite's hand as it is gracefully lowered onto the Gilded Lily’s lap. “He’s learned all there is to learn, from our tutors. The wisdom… the insight… it will come with experience. Even I am not impervious to the tempting illusion of love. Right now, I am… regathering my wits after falling for a client, who is still among my acquaintances. Our studies at the Academy provide us with the means to become great in our art. It takes more than the graduation to become an established courtesan. And yet more to reach the fame of one such as you and I.” Her smile is tempered by the thoughtful expression of her hazel-brown eyes, as she considers. “I’ve already spoken with Raevyn about maintaining a professional distance. He has assured me…”, the Pearl bites her lip, “that he will stay in control, that he will be careful not to forget his own benefit, even if he should become very attached to a client.”

A soft sigh escapes Julieta Scuderio as she shifts ever-so-slightly in her seat, a rather unspectacular movement that even so shows off a certain grace. “The test…”, she continues. “It will be the Madame who will determine the manner of it. And I trust… should he not be ready, that the Madame will find that flaw. If he passes though… his fate will be in his own hands from then on.”

Oh, if he's assured her… then it'll all be all right. Marguerite Lavecq lifts both brows, in the slightest, discreetest feint towards an expression of dubiety. "Perhaps," she concedes, "perhaps indeed, Julieta, I am not one to speak upon such matters, when I have not taken an apprentice myself — or, rather…" And the smile she gives then is a very small one, but very real. "I have an apprentice, but as you know she is so young that her debut is a far-off worry indeed for me. I can't know quite what you must feel — I can't know quite what you must know

"But I feel, Julieta," she ponders aloud, affecting in the sweetest, most hesitant way to reach towards each word, each phrase, "that if we were speaking of an apprentice of mine, I should feel responsible, I should feel a mother's or a sister's care for such a young person; and I should not put anyone to that test, whom I was not confident would triumph over the greater test. At what moment can one simply turn someone out into the world, and wash one's hands of her — or him…?

"Perhaps it isn't reasonable, it isn't right, to contemplate such an abandonment — but if someone can't stand alone, and simply still needs you, your help, your counsel…? One test; the infallibility of one woman, who has had far less to do with your pupil than you have yourself, who must necessarily see a less complete picture of his nature… Madame Orlévais can judge to a nicety what we any of us can do as musicians, singers, dancers, acrobats, dinner guests, confidantes; but can she see as deeply as you into a heart you know so well? You have made yourself responsible: are you quite ready to hand over that responsibility and let your pupil's reputation, and the reputation of our own academy," this she stresses with an inclination of her head, a subtle deepening of her voice, "rest upon his shoulders…? We are all judged, you know, by this house's graduates… Forgive me," she sighs again, "but I look into your eyes, and— you don't quite seem ready, Julieta. And the best proof of that, is that you came to me — knowing, I think, what one such as I would surely say."

Julieta's hazel eyes are flickering with some sentiment, a fact that Marguerite cannot be oblivious to. "I've tutored some students before, it is not that I lack the experience… But in those other cases - even Arieta - I've never felt fully responsible - there are other tutors after all, and…", she sighs and shrugs her shoulders. "In Raevyn's case I am very much his mentor, the one who should guide him. It is as you say, I feel like a sister for him. I worry for him. He has been out of the Academy for a month, he got lost during the Tournament in Kentaire. Maybe he needs some time among our kind to remind him - to point him back to our way of life. Teaching him by example, rather than, by his own experience."

She bites her lip, the cup of wine in her hand for now forgotten. "We agreed on this exam before Kentaire. Maybe we need a bit more time. I shall speak to the Madame, perhaps. And maybe," here her eyes meet the blue-grey gaze of Marguerite Lavecq, "we can arrange a 'coincidental' meeting here at the Academy, as I would be curious of your verdict of him. Which will clearly help for me to determine how to continue; and how to help him overcome his weaknesses."

When the Gilded Lily spoke the words "one such as I", she meant: "one entirely without sentiment". And thus, seeing that quality shining so clearly in her colleague's gaze, echoed again in her distracted manner, she gives thanks to her mother for knowing how to protect her from the worst of its excesses and vulnerabilities — and perhaps even for the coolness of her own nature, which has shown itself an asset far more often than a hindrance… A professional lover can afford, least of all, to love. Ah! If only there were a reliable test to weed out that tendency, in a shorter time than years.

"Of course," she agrees easily, "if you'd like an opinion which is more than a guess… I'd be delighted to hear him play again; and then, perhaps, we might coax him to speak of himself…?" Surely there's no young man alive, of any strain, who could remain proof for long against the flattering interest of two such creatures. "A month away, truly, and out of so short a time in full…" A hint of the shock which touched her face when she heard it mentioned a moment ago, flits again through her eyes. "Julieta, without knowing him all I can advise you is caution, but a great deal of caution. Your— Little Bird, isn't it? He could so easily find his wings singed, and then would he ever fly again? As special as he is to you — that is how cautious I feel you ought to be. Certainly, speak with Madame Orlévais of a postponement — or, if you'd rather not be the one he blames, I'll speak if you wish, if we agree upon it after I've met him."

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