Evangeline wipes her face with a white hankercheif, removing the sweat before the dust could turn it into a gritty film. Gharen's training had revealed how little care she had taken to maintain her body over the years. In lieue of pointless excercise, she'd begun spending some time doing manual labor among the refugees. It was... hard work, and much different than what she was used to, but they seemed happy to have her.
There was a slight commotion to her side, as the children led a well dressed man to her. He stepped gingerly through the refuse of the camp, the men and women here could likely be bought and sold for less than the cost of his shoes, not to mention the rest of the ensemble. The children point and gestured at her, and the man approached,scented hankercheif clamped over his nose. "Miss Primrose, I presume?"
She nods, confusion evident on her face, "Yes... Can I help you sir?"
The man seems relieved that his brief foray into the camp might soon be at an end, "M'lady, Master Vann seeks your presence at the Diamond Club, I am to guide you there."
Evangeline looks down, taking stock of herself. She is wearing rugged, practical clothing, covered with a shirt of fine mail, glistening, despite its fine layer of dust. She looks at the man incredulously, "What sort of Club is this?"
He clears his throat, "A social club, where the finest Citizens of this city may sit, converse, and take their leisure." He regards her attire, "It is a great... and uncommon, honor for one of your status to be invited."
Evangline bristles at the insult, resisting the urge to berate the man. What did he, some servant, know of true nobility. How are he speak as such to one who has walked the glittering spires of Ishgard, trained among the temple knights, who's birth had been blessed by the Holy See himself! True... such things mattered little in her new vision of the world, where all should be equal. YET IT RANKLED HER ALL THE SAME. Taking a deep breath, she straightens herself, speaking in a voice she had not used since her exile, "I shall take time to bathe and prepare myself. You will wait at my pleasure until I am ready."
She walks past him without waiting for a response, "Did you mishear me? I do not like to repeat myself."
The servant blinks, then hurries after her, "Y-yes M'lady."
(Part two coming)
There was a slight commotion to her side, as the children led a well dressed man to her. He stepped gingerly through the refuse of the camp, the men and women here could likely be bought and sold for less than the cost of his shoes, not to mention the rest of the ensemble. The children point and gestured at her, and the man approached,scented hankercheif clamped over his nose. "Miss Primrose, I presume?"
She nods, confusion evident on her face, "Yes... Can I help you sir?"
The man seems relieved that his brief foray into the camp might soon be at an end, "M'lady, Master Vann seeks your presence at the Diamond Club, I am to guide you there."
Evangeline looks down, taking stock of herself. She is wearing rugged, practical clothing, covered with a shirt of fine mail, glistening, despite its fine layer of dust. She looks at the man incredulously, "What sort of Club is this?"
He clears his throat, "A social club, where the finest Citizens of this city may sit, converse, and take their leisure." He regards her attire, "It is a great... and uncommon, honor for one of your status to be invited."
Evangline bristles at the insult, resisting the urge to berate the man. What did he, some servant, know of true nobility. How are he speak as such to one who has walked the glittering spires of Ishgard, trained among the temple knights, who's birth had been blessed by the Holy See himself! True... such things mattered little in her new vision of the world, where all should be equal. YET IT RANKLED HER ALL THE SAME. Taking a deep breath, she straightens herself, speaking in a voice she had not used since her exile, "I shall take time to bathe and prepare myself. You will wait at my pleasure until I am ready."
She walks past him without waiting for a response, "Did you mishear me? I do not like to repeat myself."
The servant blinks, then hurries after her, "Y-yes M'lady."
(Part two coming)
