The girl kept her purse of gold close to her. It was hard to carry when she had no pockets. Her mother had forced her to clothe herself with a pretentious corset, and flowing skirt. No matter the time of day, the woman assured her daughter that she ought to "look her best," in case someone important was watching. Raksha could hardly care when it came to Serendipity's hierarchy. She cared a less for her fellow nobles, happier patrolling the streets with what her mother referred to as Arca's "street rats." She found the townsfolk children delightful, and much more presentable and well-mannered than the lot she was made to interact with.
The square always had quite the interesting array of booths. Only the finest jewelry, made with the most expensive of materials, would do for her mother. Anything less would soil their family name, and make them seem unacquainted with status, so her mother put it. The young woman was, after all, a "Devereux." She had to look and act the part, not that she ever acted like anyone but herself.
She wanted to hate her dresses, but she didn't. She enjoyed looking nice, even with her parents' ill intent of marrying her off. She would not marry, and that was that. Her life would cease to have meaning if she did. Not to mention love and true attraction were concepts that her parents knew not of. Good breeding was their main concern. They'd sooner have her married off to a prince than hear any real opinions of hers.
Ashqan was boldly in view of all those out and about the city. She stayed by Raksha's side, as the girl had directed her. The feline considered herself to be in service of the girl for having saved her life. Raksha saw her as both a friend, and a companion-one that bested each and every person she'd met in her parents inner-circle. The thick-pelted Lynx watched as the teenaged-human made her way to another booth, continuing to peruse.
