(okay!)
The leaves of the fruit seemed to curl in on itself and wither, while a sudden draft blew over the entire table. Jonathan's cup was somehow knocked off of the table, his wine pouring into the skirts of Amelia's dress. He stood up, flustered. "I beg your pardon, I meant no harm. It was simply a mistake on my part. Are you alright, Lady Swan?"
Amelia shot a quick glare at the ghost, turning back to Jonathan with a reassuring– if not a bit surprised– smile. "It's no problem, Jonathan," she hastened to say, using her hankerchief in an attempt to wipe down her soggy skirts. Her mother frowned down at her lap, staying silent.
"Go with one of your maidservants to get changed," Lady Swan (the mom) said quietly, her monotone voice not betraying any sign of emotion.
"Or why not go up with Lady Rembrandt?" Lord Swan suggested, his expression perfectly cordial. "Spend some time with your possible sister-in-law, Amelia."
All of the Rembrandt family looked strangely uncomfortable at this. "Oh, sir, um…" Valentina started to say, but was cut off by her father.
"It's all right, daughter, go with Amelia," he said with a slightly strained smile. "And don't try anything while you're up there, understood?" he whispered in her ear.
Valentina nodded in agreement and stood up. I said that I would give Jonathan a shot, and besides, she's most likely into men. "Where are your chambers, Lady Swan?"
Amelia frowned slightly, glancing between the members of the Rembrandt family in confusion before turning back to Valentine. By now, the ghost had disappeared. "Just this way, down the hall from yours," she said kindly, taking her by the arm and leading her out the door. "Excuse us."
Valentina tensed up slightly, opening the door. Amelia's room was more furnished than the guest rooms, and Valentina stopped to admire a quilt that she was half sure came from Sweden. "Very expensive," she said dryly. "Can you ask the servants to boil some water for the stain? If you don't get it out right now, that dress will be permanently ruined. Trust me, I know a lot about stains on clothes- chemical ingredients or otherwise. Salt would also work, but to have enough to cover the entire stain would take the riches of a king."
Amelia nodded with a soft chuckle, humming as she pulled the cord by her bed that would ring for a servant. "How would the daughter of a Lord such of yourself know about stains, if I may ask? Do you enjoy cooking, perhaps?" She brushed some lint off the top of her harp, moving around the room to right fallen objects.
"Something like that," Valentina said evasively, picking up a couple of scraps of paper off of the floor and placing them on the desk. "… And how would a daughter of a Lord such of yourself know this much about music? I don't know a lot about them, but this looks really advanced."
Angeline flushed slightly, as if caught in the act. "It has always been an interest of mine…. and that's putting it mildly. Besides," Here, she gave a teasing smile and lowered her voice to show that she was joking. "It keeps away the ghosts.." Laughing, she turned away. "Do you play?"
Valentina shook her head adamantly. "No, no, never. Every one of my feeble attempts sound like a dying cat. It would most likely draw the ghosts closer, actually," she laughed, turning away. "But to be honest, if ghosts did exist… this house seems to be where they would most likely gather."
Amelia’s smile died on her face. “Oh? How so?” she prompted, forcing any nervousness out of her tone and turning to adjust her velvet curtains.
"I'm not a very good scholar or alchemist, but think about it- the leaves withered much faster than normal, and Jon's cup was knocked out of his hand when he wasn't even moving it. Although that can be blamed on the wind, it was only a breath of air, barely strong enough to move a piece of paper, much less a sturdy metal goblet," Valentina said, shrugging. "However, I think that the leaves actually withered due to some strange chemical that the wind brought, which was not strong enough to hurt any of us."
Amelia let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. At least there hadn't been sightings… "I suppose… I've lived here for all of my life, I can confirm that there is a disappointing lack of supernatural activity," she laughed, wiping a speck of dust off her windowpane.
Valentina gave her a questioning look. "Well, even if ghosts were real, wouldn't they be invisible to the human eye? And if ghosts are real, do you think the fae are, too? My old nursemaid used to live in Ireland- she told us stories about being held by faeries underground for a year and a day. When she came out, she found out that everyone that she knew had turned into the elderly without her."
Amelia turned, wide-eyed. "Really? Do you think she was telling the truth?" Immediately, she realized how childish she was being, and the smile dropped right off her face. "Oh– sorry."
(i'm just going to leave the question of faeries open-ended because it's your rp)
"I don't know," Valentina admitted. "But we always found it peculiar that every year up until the day she died, there would always be an unfamiliar flower placed outside her windowsill on her birthday. Nurse told us that it was bog-rosemary, a flower only native to Ireland. It was only later that we realized she had most likely made those stories up to fool us gullible children."
(yeah it's fine, maybe they're only in Ireland and are good at hiding?)
Amelia found herself focusing entirely on Valentina's voice, her words getting lost completely. It was rich, full and resonating, a unique sort of voice, and a beautiful one. (I can change anything I just said if you want me to) She wasn't quite sure why she liked it so much…. but the sound of it was almost music to her ears.
Just then, a servant entered the room, carrying a large bucket of hot water. Amelia thanked them, closing the door before glancing back at Valentina. "You don't mind if I shed my top layer quickly, do you? I need to get this stain out."
(nah, it's fine)
Valentina averted her eyes slightly. "Alright, I'll go look for a washcloth," she said a bit too quickly, looking around the room for something she could use. Against her will, her cheeks started to heat. Damn it, Valentina, it's not the first time you've seen a beautiful woman unclothed. Keep it together!
Amelia, oblivious to Valentina’s sudden shyness, easily slipped out of her teal dress, lettingit pool to the ground before lifting it into the bucket that the maid had brought. She turned to Valentina, absentmindedly playing with a loose lock of hair. “Oh— there’s a towel right over there—“
(valentina is such a disaster bi
the chaotic energy in this one is strong)
"Right, right," Valentina mumbled, gathering the gown up hastily from the floor and scrubbing at the stain with vigor. She suddenly turned around, realizing that she had forgotten something. "Oh, and do you have any red… vinegar…" She trailed off, realizing that Amelia was still unclothed.
(XD)
“Oh— you don’t need to do it!” Amelia blinked, letting out a light laugh. “Valentina, you’re my guest!” The maid have a small smile, lifting a bottle of red vinegar, and gently extracted the dress from Valentina’s hands. Amelia, wearing no more than a corset and a small slip, hummed as she came past and began to help her maid scrub at the stain on the dress.
(i just had a random hunch, went and looked back at all the entries, and just realized that valentina never actually said amelia's name- wow)
Valentina managed a weak smile, trying not to look at Amelia. "Of course, Ameli- I mean, Amelia," she said, then mentally winced at how she almost slipped into the French way of saying Amelia. (it's pronounced ah-mee-lee-ah or ah-mel-lee-ah there, not uh-meal-lee-ah)
(oh cool)
The flimsy strap of Amelia's underclothes slipped off her shoulder, but she failed to notice, continuing to scrub at the dress despite her maid's protests. If she had realized, she would have no doubt hastened to straighten it and drape something over her bare shoulder– but from shame, not embarrassment. She hated the way her body was covered in tiny freckles and moles, particularly her shoulders, and often covered that part of her up. "Is that how you say it in French? My name?"
"Yes, though your name's not particularly common in French. It's usually just Amelie, not Amelia," Valentina said, crossing over. "Here, stay still. Your strap just fell off of your shoulder." She gently moved it back up, suddenly aware of her close proximity to Amelia.
Amelia was unsure of why her heart suddenly skipped a beat, or why a gentle flush rose to her cheeks, but she was sure of the fact that she had now flashed her strange-looking shoulders to the sister of her suitor. She pretended otherwise, offering her a slightly hesitant smile.
Valentina gave a tentative smile back, then turned to the dress. "Thank you, you may leave," she told the servant, who scampered out of the room.
The maid left, and Amelia watched her go, shivering slightly as an ethereal wisp appeared a few yards in front of her and floated in their direction. The stain was now thankfully faded, the dress almost salvaged.
"Do you want to change into another dress while you wait for that one to dry?" Valentina asked, gesturing towards the stained dress.
"Good idea," she replied, getting up after drying her hands on a towel and making her way over to her dresser. The small slip swayed as her legs moved, hiking up slightly, and she felt strangely self-conscious, though she didn't know why. It was just Valentina, after all.
Valentina made a tremendous effort to peel her eyes away, finally looking off to the side. "Do you need some help with the laces? I'm afraid that we've scared all of the maidservants away."
Amelia's light laugh hung in the air for a moment. "Yes please, if it's not any trouble." She hummed, selecting a slightly simpler dress, pale satin blue, and holding it up against her body. "This one?" she asked Valentina, knowing they'd be expected back at the table soon.
