27th of Ashan, 716
More and more, it seems, Evelyn is calling me for my escort services. How... nice.Qaerris let a slight chuckle escape his lips as he read the note that he was given by a servant of the Andaris line. As he read it, he let a moment pass before he realized that the servant was not dismissing herself from his company.
"Our lady tells me to bring you to her. She has your attire on the ready for when we arrive."
A nod moved the harlot's head as he picked up his coat, letting himself out of the house and locking it behind him. The walk was, as it always was, long, but it was by no means unpleasant. The roads, as they led towards the property of the higher class, became nicer, better taken care of, without the intrusions of garbage and the rank stench of un-showered, filthy individuals. A deep breath was taken at this point, before Qaerris advanced, entering the property by its entrance for the very first time.
It's actually hilarious. I've been here... 30 times? More? Yet this would be the first time I actually used the door. How times have changed.
It was a simple thing, to be led forward and towards Evelyn. Familiar hallways were traversed, though he need make the rouse of not knowing his way. Following rather than leading, it wasn't until Qaerris was behind a closed door with his Lady that a knowing smile materialized upon his features. Evelyn turned to face the Mortalborn, her nose crinkling in mock disgust as she told him,
"You won't be seen with me wearing that... It's a good thing I was prepared."
Qaerris was pointed towards an outfit, the harlot nodding as he waited for his client to tell him anything else he needed to know. A cough parted her lips before she cleared her throat to speak,
"Put that on later. However, a word of advice, Qaerris, keep watch for one of my... cousins. Quincy Andaris has all of the charms of a plowhorse, with none of the beauty. He's a pleasant enough sort, but every bit of him, his appearance especially, reeks of an outrageous quality that does not befit nobility."
A laugh escaped Qaerris' lips as he undressed without shame before his Lady.
"Are you afraid, my lady, that he'll pollute my mind? Of course, the most gracious Evelyn Andaris wouldn't tolerate such a thing... But there's other things to think about, now."
After all, she had brought him to her home several hours early. Clearly, she wanted something else out of him before they left.
- - -
Three hours pass, the last of which was spent in preparation for an event to take place in one of the houses of the Andaris. Evelyn remained vague with Qaerris about the details, assuring him that he would know in time. When the pair arrived, Qaerris opened the door to their carriage, assisting Evelyn with her exit and walking with her into the estate.A smile cast upon Qaerris' lips as he felt Evelyn's arm loop through his. The two walked forward, both preceded and followed by a couple in turn, a sort of line forming as guests arrived in tandem, one by one entering and clearing themselves with the hosts. Seating was assigned, Qaerris and Evelyn seated with several other members of the Andaris family, no doubt all of them as trivial to the inheritance of the line as Evelyn herself was. Not being named an heir did not insinuate that the royals did not celebrate with one another.
A gaze cast about the ballroom, which had been richly decorated with satin tablecloth, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, scented wax candles sticking inside each individual lantern. Each candle smelled of a soft touch of lavender, the scent permeating through the air as Qaerris looked down to find a table set with seven pieces of silverware, a hand reaching forward to feel the authentic silver that lay before him.
Lovely... The silverware alone is likely worth more than my house.
A shrug moved Qaerris' shoulders as he wondered to himself when the alcohol would be served. Noting the presence of a bar, the Mortalborn decided that it would be best to simply fetch it for himself.
"I'll re-join your shortly, my Lady. Allow me the pleasure of looking around."
A nod moved Evelyn's lips as she waved Qaerris off, continuing a conversation she had been consumed by. The Mortalborn rose to his feet, which began to take him towards the bar, the man ordering himself a glass of fine whiskey. Once it was served, he'd begin to wander.