Thread: Noblesse Obligé [Ghostwolf and Thaedael]

Clara continued to gaze out of the window, watching as the rain began to harder and faster against the glass. She could feel the room begin to cool, the drop in temperature noticeable on her skin, and she barely suppressed a shiver. Victorias voice drew her attention away from the darkness outside and back into the room, eyes fixing on the woman sat across from her. The officer seemed more open as she spoke this time, less stern and stiff, the smile on her face causing Clara to respond with one of her own. Well that is good to know Clara replied, nodding. Victoria said that of course, but Clara wondered how open the woman would be to disrobing in front of her The noble observed the officer as she stated that she did not value the medals she was given, which surprised Clara somewhat. She had thought the receipt of medals and honours meant a great deal to all those serving in the Emperors name, but it seemed not. Lizzie would like this one. Clara couldnt help but smile along with the woman, Victorias grin as she stated what she thought of as her real reward was infectious. You have done well, more than well Clara smiled and nodded. For Im sure for every one of them that has accompanied you here this evening, there are many more that did not.Clara relaxed further into the soft cushion of the settee, taking another sip from her glass. Really? Very well then, if you are sure. I will try to arrange a mutually acceptable time for us to meet with a dressmaker, either on one of the quieter days of the celebrations or afterwards. Clara nodded assertively, her mind set, but giving the woman a friendly smile. Images were already flicking through Claras mind of various outfits shed like to see Victoria in. Which reminds me, do you know what you will be doing or where you will be living yet? Do they tell you that much? So I know where I can find you should I need to. The skies continued to empty above them, the rain falling down upon the two of them. The sound of it drowned out all noise from within the palace, but for the slightest murmur of the collected voices within the ballroom, the faint melody of music barely reaching their ears as the band continued to play for the guests inside. Elizabeth watched him, the Vorlancian proclaimed Hero, taking in the rain drenched sight of him. He seemed calmer, more together, but she knew that they way he was viewed by his homeworld, and as she once did, was not the real Ilya. The man before her now, soaked from the rain, was the real Ilya Garin, and he reached his hand out towards her. She took his larger hand with her own, but she shook her head in response to his question. No, not just yet. A little while longer. She manoeuvred her small hand around his, and she placed their hands upon the wet railing Beths resting over Ilyas. Im not ready to go back inside, to face them all again. To have to put on airs and graces, smiling and trying to be civil, pretending to like them all. As if I am the same as them. As she spoke, the finely manicured fingers of her hand moved to slip between his, intertwining slightly as if to anchor her to this moment. With her spare hand, she gathered her wet hair and drew it over the shoulder furthest away from Ilya, moving it away from her face and baring her neck and one glistening shoulder to him, the strap that was hidden from the rain soon damp now it was exposed. Light shadows had appeared under her eyes from where the rain had finally caused her mascara to run, the sodden material of her dress clinging tightly to the curves of her bust, hips, and rear. She smiled softly at him, before turning her gaze back outwards towards the ocean. The spires surrounding Omon barely visible in the downpour but for the dim lights that shined distantly.