Dreaming of A Devil in Silk (Sporky!)

[Lion]

[This is set the day before the ball will take place, which would be tomorrow evening.]

Freedom at last!

Rafe almost couldn't believe it!  The prospect itself was almost too ludicrous to be true.  But, alas, it was!  For the first time in what seemed an eternity, Rafe's parents, Lord Alastair and Lady Alexandra, had left the estate under his, the eldest child's, charge while they took a vacation with his younger sister, Ania, to the far reaches of Adela.  Considering the distance the traveled down south along the coast of Le'ranna, he would have the entire estate, servants, tenants and all to himself for at least a wonderful three or four months.  And what a magnificent portion of a year it would be!  Of course, being the caution and wise man that Alastair was, his father had left behind the head servant Matteo Tull to watch over his unruly son.

Yet, not even this would deter Rafe's jubilation because Matteo, while of middle age and performed his job very well, was milquetoast enough to be persuaded into letting him do just about anything he wanted.  Little did he know that Alastair had been planning his moment for quite some time, considering that perhaps some responsibility would break through Rafe's reckless behavior and turn him into the proper gentleman that he had always wanted his son to be.  While he loved his son as a father should and more, he couldn't help but feel the shame he brought upon the name of Vioesile with his adamant disregard for the unwritten rules of what being a gentleman meant and his ever so vague womanizing.  Rafe had already set his own honor in ruins and yet Alastair could not understand that he had done so intentionally.  As a gentleman of the highest pedigree and of the most genuine sense, Alastair did not know that he would never understand the keen intricacies of Rafe's mind.  But still, he held fast to the hope that one day he would turn around and become the noble and honorable man his name required of him.

But Rafael was hellbent on staying himself for as long as he could.  It was the obstinate blood that roaring in his veins that would cause him to persist in his ways.  Even now as Rafe watched the late afternoon rain of Cerenis fall upon the sheer windows of the family estate of Vireya, he felt his restless blood leap with excitement at the thought of tomorrow evening.  He remained seated in his favorite low-backed armchair that he had moved from his father's study to his own private library in his section of the grand castle while Matteo had departed the room shortly after bringing Rafe his decanter of brandy.  A sardonic grin rested on his swarthy face, lined with a finely trimmed beard and mustache, both of the deepest black as was his hair.  His deep, midnight blue eyes, tinged with a faint jade, gleamed and twinkled with brimming mirth at the thought of attending the ball that would be held in the honor of Lord Candel's daughter to another lesser known noble.  It wasn't so much the fact of attending a wedding celebration but the fact that it was simply a ball.  Rafe, with all his passion for living, loved celebrations for all the excitement for life they represented within themselves.

He was almost curiously aching at the thought of what he might find at the ball, even as the final words of his father passed through his mind: "You've been looking forward to Candel's ball all week, Rafe.  This I know but please try to behave yourself, if not for your honor then for mine.  Who knows, you'll probably come across a girl that would be interesting enough for you to settle down?"

As he poured himself a glass of the liquor and sent the burning liquid on a fiery trail down his throat he smiled and said to himself, "Father, for once, you'll probably be right."

[You can just pop right in with Cassandra arriving in town or something like that if you'd like.  And sorry for the shortness, I usually make my starting posts longer.]

[Anonymous]

Stepping out from the carriage as slowly and gracefully as possible, Cassandra winced as her cramped legs were suddenly forced into motion. But that hadn't been the worst part of the trip. Her mother had been lecturing her throughout the entire journey from Arca to Cerenis about manners, appropriate conversational topics – things Cassie already knew. Lady Janelle did not want her daughter to disgrace her at the wedding celebration of their distant cousin. Not that Cassandra had any intention of drawing attention to her, not after what happened during her introductory banquet. Well, at least one good thing came out of that mess, Cassandra thought dryly. Invitations had come pouring in as people suddenly remembered the name Aalish, making her mother as busy as a bee in a hive. So Cassie had been able to avoid her 'lessons' in proper etiquette. At least, until the invite had arrived from Lord Candel and the duo set off for Cerenis.

This was Cassandra's fourth visit to the port city, and each time it seemed to double in size. They would be staying with Lord and Lady Candel, who owned a magnificent seaside mansion with a fantastic library. Hearing the door open, Cassandra looked up from smoothing her skirts to be welcomed with the sight of the Lord and his daughter, Alice. Greetings were exchanged all around, and soon Lady Janelle and Cassandra were ushered inside to be shown their rooms. Dinner was a simple affair, given the late hours, and soon the hosts and their guests retired.

During supper Alice had eagerly told Cassandra all of their plans – the brunch feast would be a grand event, though those closest to the family would be in attendance. Then there would be outings into the countryside for a picnic, with the early afternoon spent on the shore. Evening would be taken up by the grand ball to celebrate the union of Alice and her betrothed. Cassandra thought about this as she lay on her huge bed, liberally decorated with velvet pillows and hanging drapes. I hope I'll be able to meet some interesting people here in Cerenis, Cassie thought as she drifted off into sleep.

[Lion]

Sometimes, Rafe couldn't understand just what went on in the minds of fashion experts in the days of codpieces and hosiery.  Though such dress was more than sixty years past in history and was far behind Rafe's time, he still couldn't help but be grateful that such clothing advanced into far more comfortable full length trousers, coats, cravats and the like.  At least in men's fashions.  There he sat in the glistening black carriage headed down the road to Cerenis with Matteo sitting across from him with the family crest of a raven clutching a serpent in its maw painted in gold.  Clad in a finely tied cravat, a linen shirt pleated to perfection, and silk cream-colored waistcoat all tucked into a midnight purple, velvet frock coat.  Matching trousers and varnished black boots reflected his image to perfection.

"Sir, if I may ask, just who is this Sefton fellow that has married the good Lady Alice Candel?"  Matteo asked lightly in an attempt to make conversation.

"Some noble by the name of Stellan Sefton.  He's no cousin of mine, that's for sure," Rafe muttered nonchalantly as the carriage tilted and swayed down the unsteady road.  Indeed he was correct however, since the Vioesile family originated in Adela with a few ties to Connlaoth on his mother's side.  After immigrating for reasons unknown, the remains of a betrayed bloodline started anew under another name and the Vioesile family was born.

"Hm, I've heard of him before, if my memory serves me right.  A nice, intelligent man, he is with a heart of iron.  D'you suppose it was arranged?"

"Honestly, I don't think so and I really don't care to discuss this now.  I mean I don't really give a damn about the bride or the groom.  I just want to arrive at the ball before the rain hits; you know how that damn oracle is."

"Yes, Master Rafe.  But remember you're father told me to look after you while he was away."

"I know, Matteo.  But don't think that'll hold me back from enjoying myself.  Now, enough we're here."

With that, they arrived at the grand castle of the Lord Richard Candel and were immediately greeted by a flurry of guests to the ballroom in the southern wing of the estate house.  Almost as if time had no meaning here and after Rafe convinced Matteo that while he was here he should take some time off and mingle, the young dandy found himself on the outskirts of all the dancers, musicians and diners, observing the actions of polite society with a quiet contempt and a dance of mockery glittering in his blue eyes.  As he drank champagne and conversed with a few older bachelors with a cold and exaggerated courtesy that befit them all.  These gentleman in which he spoke to spoke only to him because it was their duty as the brothers of the groom to treat all the guests with the utmost courtesy, even if they detested the tall, sardonic man whose eyes openly criticized them.  

Again after a few moments the younger Sefton brothers departed his presence, leaving Rafe alone to watch the crowd just as he did before.  But as his eyes swept over the crowd they rested vigilance upon a young woman whom he had never seen before.  He watched her closely, with his arms folded negligently across his chest as he leaned against a stone pillar, smiling in her direction like a scheming cat.

[Anonymous]

Dressed in a pale blue gown that fit her to perfection (as the seamstress had assured her it would), Cassandra had swiftly taken up her customary position near the tapestry covered walls. She wished she held a glass of champagne in a hand to sip it casually as she surveyed the nobles in all their finery. Even the servants were decked out in their very best – paid for courtesy of the Lord Candel. The events of the day had nearly driven Cassie to her wit's end as she chattered inanely about the weather and how beautiful Miss Alice was. She was happy for her cousin, of course, and knew that Lord Sefton would be pleased with his young wife, but she couldn't shake off boredom. Not once during the day had she been able to sneak off to the library, not with her mother's hawk eyes tracking her every move. And the chittering young ladies that pleaded with her for retellings of her coming out dinner... they made her feel old.

Oh great. Here comes one of them now. Cassandra had given up on trying to remember their names, but she did put on a good show of being pleased to see the solitary hunter. Giggling her way nervously up to the older girl, she pointed to an elegantly dressed man smiling in their direction, apparently unable to say a coherent word. Cassie glanced over as she hastily shoved the pointing hand down, nodding apologetically in case he saw their spectacle. His handsome face wasn't familiar, so he must have arrived only for the ball. The girl in front of her only started giggling harder, and then abruptly fluttered away, no doubt wanting to gossip with her friends.

Cassandra's eyes sought out the man again, wondering what he made of them. Of her. Ah, what does it matter? Unless he can talk intelligently unlike so many of my esteemed peers... But the chances of that were slim. Alice's invites had gone to partiers and people with no notion of what a library could possibly be useful for.

[Lion]

Rafe just stood there with one eyebrow raised and his usual expression of curiosity and interest formed on his fine, bearded face as he observed the exquisitely blonde young woman when she was approached by another lady.  His smile widened when the giggling commenced, a surefire sign that he had been noticed; his glistening white teeth sparkled like an animal's fangs beneath his close-clipped black mustache in an indication that the spectacle had indeed amused him.

There wasn't a doubt in his keen, cunning brain that he hadn't seen her before.  From what he had observed so briefly in her behavior, she seemed that of a well-brought up young lady who most likely was brought up as all other young ladies were: A sheltered life in which they were reared to be cultured, educated, courteous and above all, gentle and shy.  A trait that the every sturdy, red-nosed matron was wont to pass down amongst their daughters and so forth.  Even if his assumptions were true, which he did not want to conclude himself if they yet were, he decided it best to settle his curiosity with an objective third party.

Turning to his left, Rafe tapped the shoulder of one Toby Drake, an older gentleman who was one of those rebellious bachelors that were more ignorant than their name required and sought maintain their youth far longer than was necessary.  Thankfully, Toby was an amicable man who had many a friend and sought out even more acquaintances to add to his collection of socialites.  He turned around to face Rafe with a smile on his face, "Did you need something, Rafe?"

"Yes, Toby.  Tell me, just who is that woman over there?" He was quick to answer for fear that if he stayed too long with Lord Drake he would dragged into some nonsensical conversation that would bore him out of his mind.  In a swift motion, he tossed a finger to the woman's direction.

"The red-head?" Toby muttered, obviously confused.

"No!  The blonde in the pale blue dress.  Yes, her, over there.  Who is she?  I've never seen her before."  Rafe, though only half grinning, kept his vigilance upon her and only shot Toby a glance as reassurance that he was listening.

"Her?  Why, that's Lady Cassandra Aalish.  She's a young belle that just had her appearance about, eh say, four months ago if memory serves me correctly.  It was a wonderful occasion.  But why do you ask?  Weren't you invited?"

With that brought to his attention, Rafe looked to Toby Drake with a visage that bespoke of obvious sarcasm.

"I'll take that as a no then.  Well, anyhow, her mother, one Lady Janelle Aalish, is—"

"—another stone cold matron, I'm sure," Rafe finished for him.

"Er, yes.  Well, she threw the bash just for her daughter at the king's palace in Arca.  The lass is about nineteen, I would think, and a well-bred young lady if I do say so myself."

"Thank you, Toby. That's all."  Rafe tapped the gentleman on the shoulder and departed from his side.  All the while keeping his eyes on Cassandra, he moved through the crowd, his walk speaking the secrets of his passionate spirit, brave and strong and with an graceful lightness that would be unusual for someone of his height and body size for he was neither slender nor light but of a slightly greater than lean musculature.

He evaded the diners that chatted and ate along the rim of the twirling dance floor as he slipped toward the side of the ballroom, maintaining his fox-like vigilance from the corner of his eye.  He slid to the side, nodding to one noble or another and admired the mural on the wall of what were called legendary 'spellswords' from a distant land called Runea.  The image depicted one, clad in shining armor, bowing to his lady fair in a serene field surrounded by a glorious wood and hillside with his castle far in the distance as it shadowed against the sunset.  When he managed to slip his way right beside Cassandra he remarked so that she could clearly hear, "Ah, Joslynn James at some of his best.  Would you agree?"  He turned to her and smiled, holding his hands behind his back.

[Just so you know, Joslynn James is a fictional famous author/painter of Serendipity that I completely made up and can be used as a topic of discussion between the two if you'd like.]

[Anonymous]

After her brief brush with the twitterer, Cassandra decided she really needed something to drink. But just as she was about to make her move on the waiter carrying glasses, the handsome dark-haired man starting making his way around the room. She paused, wary of watching him too closely - that would be quite rude. His movements were rather graceful, especially for one of his build, and he was heading in her direction, along the rim of the ballroom. Swiftly, though still with the poise expected of a noble lady, Cassandra angled her body away from him to avoid the impression that she had been staring. Unfortunately that meant she was now staring at the wall, or, more specifically, a mural. And a rather fine one at that, as the man beside her commented.

Cassie jumped, not expecting the alluring stranger to have made his way to her side. Recovering her composure with a blush, her embarrassment rapidly faded into curiosity. It wasn't every day she met someone with knowledge of Joslynn James many, many works. This one, though not as famous as his other frescos, did hold a certain charm that came from such a simple idea made larger than life. The knight and his lady. A soft smile graced Cassie's lips as her eyes ran over the fine details and dramatic hues. "I love this mural. He managed to take a traditional, iconic image and turn into something with its own unique feeling." She felt an itch in her fingers, one that always came when she beheld lovely paintings such as these. She wanted to bring it to life, to see the emotion play out in the scene. Not forever, of course. That gift she could only bestow on paintings from her own hand.

Forgetting her desire for a drink, Cassie gently laid a finger against a beautifully painted dove and murmured a single word. "Life." And the dove was unfrozen, soaring gracefully above the still couple. It gave Cassandra pleasure to witness the exuberance with which the bird flew – this was why she brought paintings to life. To see happiness, if only for a short while.

[Lion]

It was better for him to acknowledge her face from close up than it was from afar.  Rafe shot a grin at her when he saw her blush but focused his eyes on the painting instead.  It was as she commented on the work of art.  Though he was trying to strike up conversation with her, he couldn't help but agree with her.  He admired the way James had used contrasting colors to make the images become all the more conspicuous yet remain together in a flowing, blended fashion.  It was not dull like so many of the trying works of amateur artists but spoke of a great romanticist at heart.  James, Rafe concluded, was a true genius.  He let his eyes trail down the mural's blended and molten sky, purple off in one corner until it lightened to a burning red that portrayed the setting sun behind the castle silhouette and how the hills lightened with a tinge of green and billowed downward toward the thick, obscure wood toward the edges with the man and woman at its center.

"Indeed," he replied glancing at both her and the painting.  "I especially admire the way he symbolizes the darkness and light that can come of love.  Observe how he carefully balances out the light and darkness by leading them into the one another.  The sunset flows down into the darkness or quite possibly the darkness receding from the light."  Rafe motioned to all the things he spoke of with his hand as he spoke before finishing.  "Be it books or pictures, James has a way of bringing his works to life."

Just then he observed Cassandra's hand precariously touch the dove flowing toward the sky on a high wind, and literally make it come to life, moving as if it were a live avian instead a combination of silvers and whites on a stone slab.  He raised a brow at the living image for a second before turning his attention to her with an impressed gleam in his dark eyes.  "What a beautiful gesture," he commented wryly, maintaining his grinning semblance.  "Wherever did you learn that?"

[Anonymous]

Cassandra nodded at his expert review of the painting. She herself hadn't thought of the dark and the light's contrast as a product of love, and thought that idea was quite clever. It could be true, but seeing as she had never been in love, Cassie couldn't be certain. His comments of the sunset made her smile as she added her own opinion. "I prefer to think of it as the dark receding from the light. With the knight there, the lady is safe. You can see it in her face – she doesn't fear the oncoming night." Cassandra preferred to look past the masterful detail though, and focus on the emotions conveyed through the painting. "They're in love," she murmured, almost missing the man's inquiry.

The noble lady didn't need long to think about her answer. She turned to face him, though her answer wasn't that long. "There's always been magic in my family. My father can do some small magics, and has a natural gift for languages. My mother is rather nifty with sewing magic – she can enchant a piece of cloth to draw the eye of everyone in a room. When my brother shoots an arrow, he never misses." Suddenly curious about the mysterious man, she asked him the same question. "And what of you, Lord...?" Cassandra trailed off, realizing she didn't even know the man's name, nor had she given her own. A sheepish blush tinted her cheeks, and the young noble hurriedly introduced herself. "I am Cassandra Aalish, daughter of Lord and Lady Aalish. It is a pleasure to meet you." With all the grace she could muster, Cassie curtsied, hoping she hadn't offended him.

[Lion]

The case of extraordinary abilities was an enigmatic topic to be investigated in association with the Vioesile family.  Magic was, after all, one of the reasons that his ancestors had immigrated from their origins in the first place.  And indeed many children had inherited peculiar abilities that, though subtle in appearing, were as ever prevalent in showing that they cohered to the original bloodline.  Rafe had many cousins in which were proud of their abilities to levitate or teleport themselves to court and back with a snap of their fingers.  Rafe's own ability wasn't anything like that.  No, his was far more subtle and dangerous to be shown nonchalantly in public.  

But he was not like most gentlemen and was not likely to be offended by any misconduct in ideal mannerisms.  Rafe, considering himself, smiled at her and stroked his beard before he replied. "Lady Cassandra Aalish?  I've never heard of you," he lied exquisitely, his teeth glinting charmingly in the chandelier light.  "Lord Rafael Vioesile, at your service.  But please call me Rafe.  And I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine."  He bowed extravagantly before rising back up and starting to answer her former question.  "Seems your family is quite proficient in enchantment.  That must be quite useful.  And you ask of me?  To say the least, I'm very charismatic..."  He spoke in a languid voice and finished off with a wry grin.  "Tell me, Lady Cassandra, do you always blush this much when becoming acquainted with new people?" he asked lightly and with a great deal of curiosity.

[Anonymous]

"Lady Cassandra Aalish? I've never heard of you." Cassie had expected this – after all, she was only recently introduced into society, and did not visit Cerenis often. So she simply nodded in acknowledgement, buying his lie completely. His name jogged a memory, but try as she might, Cassandra couldn't remember why. Lord Vioesile asked that she call him Rafe, but that wouldn't be proper. So she'd have to compromise, and be polite at the same time. "Then you must call me Cassandra, my lord," Cassie demurred, in her mind making the adjustment from Lord Vioesile to Lord Rafe. She smiled at his answer, though wasn't completely satisfied. Surely there must be more to it, with him trailing off like that. Perhaps he wished to maintain his enigmatic image.

Rafe's question nearly induced another blush, and with a great effort Cassandra ducked her head, answering his question as quickly as possible. "Er, no. I try not to." Ack... Cassie could feel herself being drawn into a shell, and with an inward sigh the young lady tried to shove her shyness aside for a moment as she quickly found another topic of conversation. "So have you lived in Cerenis all your life?" She hoped he hadn't. Then perhaps he would have tales of other countries, ones that she had only read about in her father's library. Growing excited, Cassandra peered up into Rafe's eyes, anticipation for a good story trumping her timidity.

[Lion]

Rafe couldn't help his sardonic smile from widening.  A low laugh rumbled in his throat as he heard her hastily dished out answer.  He had a feeling that she did not want to make a fool of herself in front of him but he did little to reassure her that he did not and would not consider her a fool unless he saw reason to do so.  Most gentleman, as he knew them, were wont to consider ladies as fragile things that needed to be told what to think and what to say, things too delicate to think for themselves.  Such a concept was under Rafe's constant speculation, having seen ladies that were too devoted to being beautiful to develop brains and others that remained wallflowers but could recant famous pieces of literature at the drop of a hat.  Thankfully, Rafe had encountered the latter and it made conversation much easier on either of their parts.  He had looked her over from afar and immediately found her to be an intriguing young lady.  It was rare that he found one to be both easy on the eyes and with a mind of her own.

"I was born here, yes," he answered without missing a beat.  "And this is still where I live.  But luckily I can never stay in the same spot for long.  I've been abroad to the isles on both sides of the continent and further down south."  Rafe witness the ignited curiosity in her eyes and returned her gaze.  He assumed she wanted to him to continue and persisted with a question of his own, "Have you ever heard of a place called the Draconi Forest?"