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Hyacinthe was dicing with Emile and several other members of his crew when a familiar carriage pulled up in the street outside. Brown and gold with a sheaf of corn on the crest, it was a carriage that Hyacinthe saw far too infrequently. "Phèdre!" he said, tossing the dice to the table with little care. A four and a three, his Tsingani luck holding even as the game fled his mind. "Keep it," he told them, genially. "The next round is on me, in honor of the Prince of Travellers and the Queen of Courtesans!" The men--boys really--at the table cheered. Hyacinthe, generally cheerful and extravagant, only grew moreso when Phèdre made her way to Night's Doorstep to see him. Yes, she was beautiful enough to make men stupid with lust and women sick with jealousy, but to him, she was far more than that. In a place where people would swear eternal brotherhood one moment, then cosh each other in the head the next and all for a free drink, Phèdre was something rare and special: a true friend.
For that and that alone, he cherished her, unlike those who knew and valued her only as Delaunay's anguissette.
And for that reason, his stomach tumbled and smile faltered when he saw not Phèdre alighting from the carriage with Guy following apace, but the man who held her marque: ( Anafiel Delaunay )
***
And now Hyacinthe was here. He'd arrived in time for the beginning of classes, though he'd missed some kind of picnic and had to be provided his dorm assignment by a moose (and then had the concept of a dorm explained to him as well, though that was by a cranky woman with too much face paint), but he was here, attending school. If he wasn't careful, this place might turn him into a pedant or a pedagogue and he'd be utterly useless to anyone. But until that happened, he was content to lounge and learn like some noble's heir and debate just how useful he wished to be to Delaunay.
All while wondering where he could get a decent wine. In some things, he was truly D'Angeline.
[Mostly establishy, but can be open. Pings to be answered when I wake up!]
For that and that alone, he cherished her, unlike those who knew and valued her only as Delaunay's anguissette.
And for that reason, his stomach tumbled and smile faltered when he saw not Phèdre alighting from the carriage with Guy following apace, but the man who held her marque: ( Anafiel Delaunay )
And now Hyacinthe was here. He'd arrived in time for the beginning of classes, though he'd missed some kind of picnic and had to be provided his dorm assignment by a moose (and then had the concept of a dorm explained to him as well, though that was by a cranky woman with too much face paint), but he was here, attending school. If he wasn't careful, this place might turn him into a pedant or a pedagogue and he'd be utterly useless to anyone. But until that happened, he was content to lounge and learn like some noble's heir and debate just how useful he wished to be to Delaunay.
All while wondering where he could get a decent wine. In some things, he was truly D'Angeline.
[Mostly establishy, but can be open. Pings to be answered when I wake up!]
