Jodelle feels upset by how badly her negotiations had went. She knows if she can't control him, not something she had wanted to do anyways, she could easily control her younger sister who would do whatever she said, especially now. Jodelle had listened to what some of her girls had said lately and there seemed to be a lot of circumstantial evidence against him. It is morning now and Jodelle knocks on Kitten's door and is not being recieved. She takes out her ring of keys and places it in the lock, entering her sister's bedroom. She sees that she is not there and has evidently slept somewhere else for the night. She sits down on the chair in front of her vanity and waits patiently.

Some time later, Kitten arrives, slipping through the door. She gets up and walks to her sister. "Dear sister, where were you last night?" She can see the revealing clothing Kitten is wearing and has an idea of what has happened between her and Jon. When Kitten begins to apologize about the mirror, tearing up, Jodelle pats her head and pulls her into an embrace. "Shhhh. No don't cry my love. All is forgiven. I was just so worried about you when I didn't see you on the floor." She places a kiss on her forehead. "Come, sit next to me."

She watches Kitten as she hides her face behind her curls. Jodelle pushes them back and grabs Kitten's chin so that she will look her in the eyes. "What have I taught you about whoring yourself love? Only if you get something in return." She sighs deeply to indicate her disappointment. "This man, Mr. Smythe, do you think he really likes you? He's using you dear. He's a murderer. I'm going to make contact to the guard of my suspicions." She sees Kittens eyes widen. "Many of the girls have talked about him saying the most awful things. They said he tried to lead them away for a good price. Poor Elisa, she always was looking for extra money...." Kitten looked away from her. "Don't you see dear? He's just using you for immunity. He'll say he was with you all night, but you were passed out drunk. Could you really be his alibi? The first day we meet him a girl dies and then he just disappears. Isn't that odd to you?" Jodelle can see that this is clearly upsetting her sister so she moves onto something else. "And maybe he is not the murderer. So far there is no solid evidence. But I still don't believe in his character. As we were trying to make a buisness deal, he cursed me and walked out slamming my door, MY door. He only cared about making money for himself. I asked for a little bit of compensation and he exploded. He made ridiculous demands, asking for a score of our women for no price at all. Something about sharing his bed, I think."

"I love you Kitten, I only look out what's best for you. And I would never tell you what to do. You're an adult now but you're also my baby sister and I have to protect you. Just promise me that you'll try and keep your distance from him? At least until the buisness is sorted out. I'll let you know as soon as we can strike a deal that will help us out. We're short on money and we have to make this work. You will be a good girl, right?"

This was Jodelle's way of getting back at Jon. She didn't like the way the last meeting went and even though she would make a fair deal with him, the last one he proposed seemed fair, she intended on giving him hell until then. Kitten was an easy way of carrying that out. And though she loved her sister deeply, she figured after this they would be even and so a little bit of manipulation wouldn't hurt anyone...

Jodelle "Buttercup" Belrose

Jodelle watches Mr. Smythe enter through her door and is quite surprised that he should visit her now. Personally she feels too busy and exhausted for a casual meeting but out of politeness, listens to what he has to say.

She thinks over his proposal. She checks the list he has handed her a few times, mentally comparing the prices. They were fine numbers but she would not reveal that lest he should have the upper hand. Her face is composed into the perfect, indifferent mask so that he cannot tell any of her thoughts or emotions. "Yes, this seems to be quite interesting, Mr. Smythe. I'm sure you've worked hard for these prices but it seems something is missing from our deal. Thinking about it, the money I would save would be less than the total price of your lodgings plus required entertainment, since it seems you will be here often." She glares at him so that he can know that she is referring to her youngest sister. "This is my counter offer and I feel it is the most fair for both of our situations. Truly I'm looking out for everyone's welfare here. You'll offer me the best quality made items with the lowest prices possible as indicated by the list. And I will charge you half the rent I usually do and will not bill you for my girls' services. But you must make sure to tip them handsomely as this is how they recieve payment." She pauses for a moment to let what she has said sink in. "If you are not happy with this deal and hope to stay with what you originally suggested I can also do that but I have a condition. You have to end any pretext of relationship you have with Emmeline. You wouldn't be able to interact with her in any way. This is how I can assure that you will be here for only the necessary times for buisness and not distracted by pleasure. I'm not willing to negotiate further on either deal, so what shall you choose?"

Jodelle "Buttercup" Belrose

The day had been sour so far but Jodelle is hoping for a better turn out for the night. "I have been strict with Kitten. I'll have to seek her out later and express my regret at having raised a hand to her." Jodelle busies herself with the latest monetary figures, weighing her gold, trying to figure out some sort of outlook in regards to the tavern. She rubs the space between her brows with two fingers, all the stress of today has led itself to an awful ache in her head. Jodelle thinks of retiring to her inner bedroom before she is required to be downstairs. As she gets up to leave her office (which is adjoined to her bedroom through a side door) she hears a swift tapping at her door. She calls out with a loud and forceful tone, "Enter."

Jodelle "Buttercup" Belrose

Jodelle listened very patiently to Jon reject her buisness offer. She was relentless though and would certainly bring it up later when he found himself in a vulnerable position. They moved onto lighter conversation and Jodelle found herself inquiring about Jon's life before the Haus. Jodelle was curious about his upbringing, how he became a merchant, and what drove his sucess. She was very pleased that her lovely sisters had decided to join her and she was thoroughly enjoying the conversation. When Sapphira mentioned gifts, her eyes glistened at the prospect of the fineries she adored recieving. Before she could mention how she felt about the oosquai (for it was the perfect present) a loud shatter startled her to a more pressing situation.

She could see in front of her that one of the most expensive pieces in the Haus was now in shambles, scattered across the floor and furniture. She turned to her right to see Kitten, so nonchalant about what had just transpired. Typically in situations, Jodelle would let Kitten get away with anything. Her little sister was like a child inside sometimes and Jodelle fiercely protected her. But Jodelle had spent so much time preparing the Haus for tonight, one of their busiest nights of the week. If it had been any other time, most likely she would have reacted differently. She knew from Sapphira their finances and they weren't in the best position right now. They were turning over profit, but not as much as she would have wished for. Of course, she hadn't told Kitten any of this. She had been having one of her episodes lately. So Jodelle sat staring wide-eyed at her sister and when Kitten turned to face her, Jodelle did something she knew she would regret later. She slapped Kitten. She slapped her so hard, Kitten tumbled back and fell off the chair. In shock, she held her hand covering her wound. Jodelle rose and said to her, "I've had enough. Your actions are ridiculous and you need to learn to take responsibility and control yourself. I won't accept it anymore."

Jodelle walked off distraught at having struck her sister. It wasn't something she wanted to do but something that needed to be done.

Jodelle "Buttercup" Belrose

Jodelle stepped into the hidden room behind a recess in the wall. It was here that the girls gathered in turns to recieve a daily examination. The routine was simple. The girls laid back on the tables as Jodelle and her medicine-woman passed checking for disease and inquiring important information that was to be kept track of by the recordkeeper. Jodelle stood in front of the girls removing her jewelry and tying her hair back. She lifted her sleeves out of the way, watching the girls laying down. Most were comfortable chatting away their prior experiences, but a few cowered in the corner and Jodelle prepared herself to enact whatever punishment they invoked.

"Alrighty, girls. You know the procedure. Lay back. Legs open. And please keep talking to a minimum." Jodelle began on one of the longest-working girls at the Haus. It would be a sad day when she would have to turn her out. Her experience made her an asset but soon her age would be a burden. She seemed clear of any illness, though Jodelle would have to tell her to take a few days off in accord to the injuries she seemed to have sustained.

"When was the last time you bled?"

"Oh just the other week m'm." The record keeper made note and Jodelle nodded her head in affirmation, moving to the next girl. After looking at each, the medicine woman would hand special roots for the girls to eat that would ward off pregnancy, most of the time. As Jodelle worked meticulously, her hand-maid came in to tell her of the arrival of the merchant.

"Yes and has he been welcomed?" Jodelle said strenuously as she continued the examination.

"No my Lady."

"And why not?" Jodelle's voice rose in anger. "What kind of buisness do you suppose we run? Get down there and offer him a room and a drink. Oh, and a girl if he'll take one." Though he seemed to have his eyes on one in particular, the last time he was here. "On second thought, I'll tend to it myself. See to it that all the women are examined properly.

Jodelle stepped out of the room and made her way to the bar. She could see Jon sitting there, looking around aimlessly. She came up behind him without his noticing. "Well I'm going to have to tell you Mr. Smythe the room rates have gone up since you've left. I have to say people thoroughly enjoy a tavern with some interesting history behind it," she said as she eyed him over. She poured a drink into her monogrammed goblet, not bothering to serve one to Jon as she had just remembered his distate for alcohol. She turned her back and leaned against the bar, drinking slowly and admiring the room around her. "I'd like to point out, Mr. Smythe, how much we have in common. We're just out for a profit. That being noted, I think it's neccesary to go over the negotiations from last time. And this time I'm not accepting an offer without having the upper hand."

Jodelle "Buttercup" Belrose

Jodelle had thoroughly been enjoying the past hour of pampering by her women in waiting. It was essential for her to renew herself anytime she was given the opportunity as she found herself continously busy day and night. It was just then that she was interrupted by a servant, standing before her, exasperated by all measures.

"Me Lady, I know tis not a good time to bother you but I, well it's..."

"Well, out with it. What seems to be the problem?"

"It's the boy. We've been chasing him all morning. Cleaning after him too." She could see the lines of pain on his forehead, trying to say what was amiss in the most gentlest of ways. Elliot was wild, yes. But she didn't see the need to place any parameters for him yet. The truth is she felt a little guilty for the boy who was growing up in a whore-house with no sense of the traditional parenting unit. She let him do as he pleased because the poor thing deserved it.

"Ah, yes. Call him in for me." Jodelle reached up to the top of the upholstery and lazily pulled herself up. She sat against the arm of the couch, drumming her fingers as she waited.

She could here him now. The pat-patting of his bare feet slapped the wooden floors as he ran into the room. "Oh Elliot," Jodelle called, "why don't you come sit next to me?" She placed her hand on the pillow adjacent to her. The poor, wide-eyed boy stood before trying to figure out if he was punished or not. He obediently listened to her.

"What have you been doing all morning, dear?"

"Oh m'm I'se been a good boy. I'se been playing with the lil animals. I'se brought some in cuz they's looking sad outside. Just some lil bugs. But they not happy about it."

She patted the boy's head affectionately. Sometimes her fingers would get caught in the mess of blonde curls that were beginning to fall down his back. She placed her hand under his chin and looked into his warm, chocolate eyes. She loved seeing his smile that showed his front teeth missing. And the freckles that fell over his nose and cheeks brought forward the innocence of childhood that was something missing in the Haus. Jodelle planted a warm kiss on his forehead.

"Oh m'm what's I do this time? I'se been a good boy." Elliot said as he violently rubbed the remnants of the kiss off of him.

"Nothing dear. Run along. There's work to be done and not enough time to do it in." Elliot stood up and sprinted towards the door before she could chide him on his behavior.

Jodelle thought of all the tasks she had committed to and which she should endeavor to start first. She smoothed out her gown, a gown colored of autumn, and set out to make her daily inspection of the girls. She was hoping to see one of her sisters on her way there. She had something quite important to confide in them, but at this moment it seemed to have slipped her mind.

Before closing the door, her thoughts flashed back to Elliot, the only free man in the Haus. A terrible secret smeared every wall and bed in this tavern. And this is how much her conciousness would let her remember: one of Ladies was the mother, whether it be Sapphira, Emmeline, or Jodelle herself. They were all so young then. And so the answer to the unspeakable seemed to have been lost long ago, buried beneath an old tree, lying near her mother. It was only now that Jodelle should have thought of it.

Jodelle "Buttercup" Belrose

Jodelle sat at the long, wooden bar in the main room, letting her fingertips slide against the sanded surface. "Yes, just as I envisioned. It's perfect." Everything created in the Haus was her brainchild and she labored day and night to improve it's standing. She prided herself on being the best buisnesss woman in this parts. She had a servant serve her a bowl of fresh red grapes and she popped a big, juicy one in her mouth and let it pop against her teeth.

"Hmm yes this will need fixing and that needs to be redone. And I think I should move that over there. A little more light on that side and it should be perfect." She did a mental inventory of what she wanted to do in the room. Her fingers rolled around in the grapes and she threw her head back and popped another into her mouth.

A servant approached her saying their goods had arrived. "Yes, about time." She took out a piece of parchment and dipped her rare, gold-tipped feather in the ink jar. She wrote down everything the servants brought into the rooms dictating where they were to be placed. "Everything seems to be in order," she said as she handed the paper to her record-keeper.

Jodelle then went to examine some of the fineries in the shipment she had brought to her. It had cost her much and lately buisness hadn't been so good. But she figured a few new pieces would distract the girls from what had happened in the past few months. She had been very strict with them, demanded their best, but she could see the toll it took on them. Oh, she mentally groaned, the drudgeries of being the madam of this establishment.

So she laid down on the new leather couch with her new silk pillows. She put her feet up and was immediately attended to and given a massage. She snapped her fingers and another servant came bringing more fruit and fed her as she hummed a tune her mother used to sing to her.

Jodelle "Buttercup" Belrose

Jodelle heard Ivanka’s voice calling to her, and was vaguely aware of the dull sensation of being shaken. It was like swimming in molasses as she struggled to open her eyes, and her servant cheered and praised the Light quietly just for that. As Jodelle’s vision came into focus, so did her hearing, and if it weren’t for the comforting familiarity of the racket coming from below and the reverberating tremors in the floorboards and bed, she would have collapsed back into unconsciousness from mental defeat. She labored to push herself up on an elbow and took a meek whiff of the smelling salts from her nightstand. Ivanka,familiar with her mistress’s methods of coping with faintness was already pouring her a drink, and Jodelle greeted it with trembling hands and lips.

It was a short while before she had washed her face, reapplied her delicate paint, and had Ivanka adjust her hair,but when they were done, Jodelle patted the good woman’s shoulder to thank her and send her on her way. Before going downstairs, she spent several minutes more meditating on her breathing and working the numbness out of her bones by simply feeling the vibrations from below. In the corridor, she clapped her heels and turned right, chin high, and marched gracefully to the gallery where several of her employees stood jubilantly interacting with the guests below,dancing around the railing, sitting on it, and in one case preparing to climb downit’s posts into the arms of four young men below. She glided up behind the girls Heidi and Abigail, hands resting lightly on the smalls of their backs.

“How’s it going so far, girls?” She smiled for them as she looked down to the band.

“Pretty good, mistress! Are we going down now?” Abigail waved to somebody in the crowd and yanked up her skirt several hands to ruffle it teasingly.

Jodelle smiled and nodded before moving to her position in the shadows just beyond the head of the stairs and signaling to the girls to take their positions. They lined up evenly on either side of the staircase, stomping, flashing, and wailing along with the music as they began their crafted descent, and Jodelle held her appearance at the top for several seconds before moving down with the dancers onto the open floor. The twirling,laughing, wild working girls filled the room in a rush of vibrant color to the appreciative hollering of the crowd. Jodelle made her way over to each Side of the Moon and kissed them fondly to show her approval of how they’d taken control of getting the party going before gliding over to the bar to pick up her drink.

It was a heavy, clear, blown-glass goblet with her initials – JB – designed ornately into the outside. It sat onthe designated silver tray on which all her drinks were placed, and the light from the fireplace gleamed mysteriously through the dark red liquid inside as the shadows of dancers and drunkards flitted by.

Jodelle scanned the room, eyes open for the last person she saw before blacking out, and her eyes landed on his enterprising head as he bowed graciously to Sapphira, who was bouncing on the balls of herfeet in excitement at the gift he had apparently given her. Jodelle grabbed a hold of the flailing arm of a passing dancer and signaled to Jon Smythe and whispered, “Fetch him to me.”

The girl snuck up behind himand attempted to slither her arm beneath his to seduce him over to the bar.When he arrived, Jodelle smiled warmly and gestured to the array of drinks behind her, then brought her hand around to indicate the tavern as a whole. “How are you liking my establishment thus far, Mr. Smythe? I wish to offer you my sincerest apology for having so abruptly abandoned my responsibilities to making you feel welcome earlier. I was struck with an unexplained bought of illness, but I do imagine I am feeling infinitely better now. Have your eyes perhaps lit upon any particular damsel with whom you might be interested to spend a night on the Haus?” She winked playfully and delighted at the sensation of the cool liquid touching her lips as she paused to hear the young man speak.

Jodelle watched as her sisters scurried around, jumping outof their skins in their excitement, and yet still managing to heed their responsibilities. She stood leaning against the smooth, polished surface of herglorious new bar and sipped the fortifying drink in her hands. She thought it was funny how the twins worked so hard to monitor preparations for the evening,and she was left only to supervise their supervisions and make necessary adjustments. But whoever complained about having too many people working for you? She wandered the grounds with a drink in one hand and a wad of her skirtsin the other, taking in the preparations and double-checking the details. She watched Kitten start to put the candles in one of the smaller chandeliersbefore getting sidetracked and sighed.

“Elliot!” She caught the six-year-old Son of the Haus by the collar as he made to run past her towards the front yard and planted a tall lighter in his palm, motioning for him to get a stool and help finish Kitten’s work. Jodelle glided on to the kitchen where she stepped carefully around the cooks as they worked. Sniffing the marinated meats, tasting the greens, and dipping all five tips of the proprietary fingerson one hand into a warm pot of cream mixed with honey and sweet berries, she smiled;partly for how splendidly things were going, and partly for how delicious herfingers were. She knocked backed the remainder of her drink before exiting thekitchen through the back door, and briefly overlooked the slaughtering grounds before moving back inside.

She wandered upstairs to the rooms with various seamstresses and girls readying themselves, including the beautiful blondes’. Those two she knew she need not worry about, and so went directly into the room with the most girls doing their toilette. The chatter quieted somewhat as she made her entrance, and although she motioned for them to continue, there remained that highly satisfying air of reverence that seemed to float in a cloud around her wherever she went in her Haus. She picked up a comband stood behind a young girl with long, chestnut hair who sat struggling withit in front of one of the many mirrors on the walls. She combed the girl’slocks lovingly, and arranged them in an intricate array of coiled curls andhanging strands before moving on to help others lace up, paint, and fragrancethemselves. She instructed the moreexperienced workers to help the less so before moving on to her own chambers toready herself.

Taking Ivanka – her oldestand most loyal servant – to her own chamber, she stripped down and found thegreen gown she’d had made for opening night and had the aging courtesan laceher up. Jodelle sat down in front of her mirror as she watched the woman pinher hair in the ornate fashion her mistress was accustomed to, and it pleasedher to see the reflection of the dark, mahogany and stone in the room behindher, rather than the infinite, dizzying reflections of reflections ofreflections that predominated many areas of the Haus. It was disorienting howmany looking glasses decorated many of the private chambers, and yet it was aninvestment Jodelle believed would pay off in the long run. People liked to seethemselves being natural and losing control, sometimes.

She dipped a tiny brush inthe tub of lamb fat that sat on her dresser and brushed her eyelashes upward,then lined her eyes delicately with the shimmering, fly-green powder Sapphirahad gotten for her. Jodelle had no idea what the stuff actually was, but shenever asked, and was satisfied just calling it Pixie dust. Painting her lipswith the soft mixture of beeswax, black cherries, and boysenberries (for addedflavor), Jodelle basked in the intimacy of using the things her darling sistershad acquired for her. She stood up andproceeded down the stairs where she heard the curious voices of Kitten, Pixie,and some stranger by her bar.

Sheapproached and stayed mostly silent in the man’s company except to introduceherself and participate in detached, calculated negotiations. She valued herreputation as a woman of few words in times of serious discussion. Once Kittenand the man – Jon Smyth, as he’d introduced himself – had finished flirting,and Pixie taking advantage of bargaining with his distraction, Jodelle smiledat him invitingly and sipped her wine for a minute before speaking.

“Well, Mr. Smythe, as excitedas we all are for this evening’s events, I’m afraid I cannot offer you a tasteof anything before the festivities officially start – other than the wine, ofcourse. In the meantime, however, come with me and I’ll show you where you cancall your new home.” Jodelle smiled and collected her skirts as she lead him up the stairs to his room.

“As you can see, all ourfurnishings are new and custom made – you’ll notice those carvings around thebases of the wooden furniture are not merely of flowers and foliage – andwhatever you do not find immediately available can be made so upon request.Again, the carvings might serve as inspiration in instances of boredom.” She stayed behind speaking to Jon privately for some time before leaving abruptly. Once outsidethe door, the smile disintegrated from her face and she ran down the hallway,past the gallery, head spinning. The last thought before she passed out on hercouch was amazement at how good she had gotten at hiding her own anxiety fromherself, and how she hoped her sisters would take the initiative and know toput Ivanka in charge of Jodelle’s own responsibilities until this sudden boughtof sickness had passed.

Jodelle "Buttercup" Belrose

OOC: Hello, everybody! I realize I have not made a properintroduction of myself, and that this post is not by any means the best I haveto offer, but I’ve been up for about eighteen hours, andI knew that if I didn’t write this before going to bed, I wouldn’t get another chance to write for several days. The next one will be better, though, so until I can come back around, everyone enjoy the party! :D

Hello all! My character is Jedelle "Buttercup" Belrose, elder sister to the Belrose twins, senior proprietor of Haus of Three! I haven't had a chance to write my bio yet, but it should be done within the next couple of days. As Faun said, we would still like some ideas about where it'd be best established. We'll be having a opening party as soon as we get our bios approved. All are welcome, and welcome to bring friends! There'll be drinks, music, dice, and girls! :D

Thanks for the input, Quibby! You and your gentlemen friends are welcome any time! ;D It'll be great to have regulars!

The sun up, the sky clear, the tower behind them, and the natural world a wonder if ever there was one, Aurora went willingly along with the said agenda of the day. There was a girl amongst them - one infamous Rory. It was quite beyond her, how she should assist someone so much more unfocused – and educated, not to mention! – than herself, but she accepted the responsibility given her, nonetheless. She wasn’t one to appreciate, resent, or be in any way heedful of others’ moods; she did, of course, better enjoy time spent in the company of the pleasant, but, to her, the company of the crabby was nothing more than the company of none. It was a fine day.

The trio met and joined another teacher and student on their way to the lesson. This being Aurora’s first time to meet the pair, she waited to see if the former looked her way to bother to curtsey, and the second her back was turned, expertly skimmed her profile for bulging, hidden pockets and bags. Then she suspiciously eyed the more accessible student.

Aurora smiled pleasantly and waved, “Hello,” before moving on without much care in the world. She did wonder, though, in a detached sort of a way, if the way she sometimes made obvious her examination of the possessions about a person’s person ever struck anyone as a… personal interest. She smirked to herself at the thought, and carried on.

Once in the garden, Aurora sat down opposite her teachers and reined her attention in for the lesson, with the almost absent curiosity with which she viewed such things.

Aurora turned the concept of manipulating the elements without ones’ hands over in her mind, and felt the hair stand up on her neck, and her skin move like something lived under it. She felt as though her mind wanted to diffuse through her flesh and drift into the very essence of this Saidar; to be a part of it, to sense and empower it, and to give meaning to its existence, in return for its giving higher meaning to her own. Images flashed before her of excruciating light in a the sky, shining free and unhinged, far above a soul-blue expanse of water, dotted, like an old corpse’s skin, with island. It was not a place Aurora knew, had ever heard of, or had ever imagined, but it came to her, just the same – unawares, unbidden.

Realizing belatedly that her expression probably resembled those of the children in the streets back home did when she showed them gold pieces, she shut her mouth and sat up straighter. Feeling a little dazed, and unable to find her voice at first, it took her a moment to respond. She shook her head and swallowed.

“No… No questions, Teacher. Do continue.”

Aurora leaned slightly forward.

/~*~\\~*~//~*~\Aurora/~*~\Doveinya/~*~\\~*~//~*~\

"Words are empty. They are signifiers that cannot convey messages without us attaching meaning to them, giving them power. If I gave somebody a paper full of scrambled letters, then it is just mixed words. Words, they are connected by letters, but we will go into proper spelling later. It is good that you wish to learn this, for the uses of words is a power you cannot have if you do not learn. Throughout this lesson if I write anything on the boards, I expect it to be copied into your slate. Am I understood?"

Aurora looked up at the end of Saline's speech, with a somewhat amused eyebrow raised. Supressing the smile threatening to insult her teacher, Aurora nodded and returned to her work.

She handed the slate back to the teacher and settled into the consequential explaination of the different letters and their pronounciations.

Yes, Aurora thought, as she began to understand the logic of words, literacy promised to be a most usefull craft... Yes. Most usefull indeed.

Aurora hid another smile.

OOC: *carries on as if it hasn't been a month and a half* hehe :P

Aurora settled down on the softest cushion she ever hadn’t stolen. She overcame the urge to wiggle and giggle with amused comfort, and managed to keep the “poor child” expression on her face.

She squinted suspiciously at the blackboard, recognizing the characters thereon as written text, but only one word, the first, was vaguely familiar to her. However, being otherwise ignorant of the meaning, or purpose for that matter – who in their right mind would want to read?! – of the scribbles so nobly presented, she shifted her gaze to the woman’s face.

She had that look... The one the townsfolk used to give her when they saw her lurking around their precious tables; as though pleading with her, saying, “Come child, you should be old enough not to be a threat to my property. Please don’t make my life any harder than it already is!” The chuckle of amused, reluctant, sympathy rising in her throat was something long dealt with. She remained expressionless.

“I can’t read!” She announced to the woman who so obviously already knew it. Aurora took a certain satisfaction in obnoxiousness. “And considering my upbringing, I’m surprised you’d think I’ve had sufficient art lessons to copy that.” She nodded self-righteously at the board.

The woman’s eyes seemed to wilt at the edges with the confirmation of some foreseen distress. With a sigh, she said, “My name is Saline. Please put some effort into this, as I am. I understand your lack of familiarity with letters, but please, do try to copy them.”

Aurora considered this for a minute, lips pursed, eyes narrowed, until she finally turned to pick up the slate. Her mimic of the letters on the board was close to perfect, bar the combination of certain letters into one, or the omission of letters that seemed a part of the elaboration of others. She might, after all, have been drawing a picture of the woman herself, for her lack of comprehension.

Aurora had never taken worldly lessons of any kind, but she was intelligent, quick to learn, and had a good memory. Perhaps… ? Yes. Perhaps it would turn out that cooperation would open doors to convenience that rebellion would only close and lock… Yes. Aurora would give it a try.

So she wrote.