By Comtesse de Chiverny (Wulfriðe), 2013-05-17
Rising late in the day, the Contessa quietly dresses for another hot afternoon.Unfortunately the recent death of the King of France dictated, frombeyondthe grave it seems, the nature of her attire. Formality and rankoverrulespracticality. She would be in Mourning.
Lost deep in thought, she slowly makes her way through the footpaths in the ruins till she finds herself in the shade of the trees, a welcome relief from the heat. Nothing more can be heard except the sound of the incessant Cicada's in the trees and the odd passing bird, punctuated every so often with the sounds of the waves crashing on the nearby rocks. The island seemed deserted.
"Troubled times indeed" she mused.
Her husband, the Comte de Chiverny has been missing for some time, last seen leaving hastily in a covered carriage just before the King fell ill. Not long after hurried whispers and glances in her direction soon followed and she also left, to sail to her beloved Rocca.
Suddenly the sound of crunched gravel underfoot broke her away from her thoughts. Her Valet Otto had arrived to bring some news.
Otto stops andbowsdeeply, unsmiling.
The Contessa's smile fades a little, but she still hopes for somepromisingreports.
"Otto, what news?"
"Madame, we have questioned both the traders in Paris and contacts further South. No one has heard of the whereabouts of your husband. He has seemingly vanished into thin air."
The Contessa frowns and looks away towards the sea, deeply saddened once more.
"I'm sorry Madame. We shall continue to search for him"
The Contessa nods distractedly.
"Of course Otto. Let me know if there are any further...ah...expenses to be paid to aid memories..."
The Valet bows once more and leaves.
Folding up the fan and tapping the tip to her cheek a few times, she slowly walks through the trees towards the waterfall. The sun begins to dip lower in the sky and the evening breeze is laden with the scent of the nearby flowers.
"Hmmm, husband missing, probably in the arms of a whore in a seedy alehouse somewhere, my children shamefully bickering with the other courtiers in Paris, my own family fortune mostly spent bribing those backstabbers at Versailles to grease the way for my husband's rise in position...*sigh*...will we be ruined?"
The Contessa lets out a hacking cough, rumours about her Consumption for now seemingly being true.
"I shall have to take matters into my own hands, before my children have nothing left to inherit. Yes...I shall have to pay a visit to 'him'. "
Pausing for a little longer to watch the sun set, she nods and smiles grimly with a new determination and heads back to her apartment.