03: Seductive Thoughts
Alexa cinched her belt tighter, emphasising her waist and shifted her balance on her hips, tilting slightly to one side. She lifted her chin and freed her hair from the leather thong she habitually wore, braids falling loosely across a shoulder. Widening her eyes slightly and adopting a confused air, she approached the dockmaster.
Nobility, grandmère had once said, was its own form of warfare. Where Spider used a crossbow, she bestowed glances. Where Lucas used his sword, she smiled. Where Vee shielded, she sighed and looked demurely away. There were different strategies of course, but with the few years she had been in court and the advice she received from grandmère, Alexandrie Donadieu was a master tactician.
As she spoke, Alexa raised her voice slightly above what was necessary while keeping her gaze firmly on the person in front of her. This - this was her forte. Some were trained to be perceptive - Spider, or Vee, perhaps. Some were trained to fight, like Lucas. She was trained to be seen.
From the corner of one eye she saw a few heads turn and internally smiled, shifting her body language to draw them closer. Glancing around, she could see Vee taking note of what was being said, could see Spider trying to talk to a captain. Her eyes lingered there a moment, before turning to the next person to seek her attention. As she sighed in feigned disappointment, she almost felt bad for them. The skills she used were learned in a larger city with much greater competition - in fact, as she pulled the corner of a lip into her mouth and looked up from beneath lowered lashes, she realised these people must know nothing of the tactics of women in court. She drew inspiration from friends and enemies alike, and revelled (for the first time in what felt like forever) in the nostalgia it brought. This was as much Alexa as La Chanson, as much Alexandrie as the concern, as much Donadieu as uncertainty. As long as she achieved her goal for now, the young woman didn’t have to think about the one they approached.
Standing in the centre of a throng of people falling over themselves to please her, she’d have given anything for a sound of encouragement. Not words - she didn’t really want or need words of praise - all she wanted to know was whether she was doing what La Chanson wished. It was several-fold, really: the words of praise she wished for were those she could, on optimistic days, imagine coming from grandmère. To be able to go home and tell grandmère that she had completed the task on her behalf - that she had listened and taken what teachings she could to finish what her grandmère had so wanted to do.
Chevalier was right, really: right decision, wrong decision, it was about living with the consequences. She knew she shouldn’t be worried - they were still very far from the Sky Anvil Plains, and by all accounts it looked as though they would still be in the Confederacy for a few weeks, but…
But the girl couldn’t help but feel she was already being tested. What if it weren’t just one decision, but a whole chain of them?
She received a compliment and blushed prettily, dipping her eyes to the ground. As they came up, they came to rest on Chevalier briefly. She hadn’t verbalised the thought, but…the further they got from home, the closer they became to where grandmère had found Vee. He’d said several times that he didn’t really care where he’d come from, beyond curiosity. She knew she would never lose her best friend, but…she couldn’t help but selfishly hope they never found anything anyway so it was never a problem.
Feeling a hard knot of discomfort in her gut, she looked at the faces of the attendees and gave a deep curtsy, turning to leave. She had been seen enough, and she was sure they had gathered enough information to make a good decision on where to book passage.
Catching sight of Lucas, she gestured subtly to her chin: the man’s jaw was loose. Internally rolling her eyes, she walked past Vee, who followed her, a very clear barrier between she and the crowd. An audience with Alexandrie Donadieu was at a close for the day.
Retying her hair in the quiet of a side street, she loosened the belt and pulled up the hood of her cloak. If she was learning anything, it was that word could spread quickly in smaller spaces, and she had just broadly announced their…her presence to the entire city. Though that Ebon elf had already…
Her lips thinned in thought as Edgewater’s sons entered the alley.
Two members of nobility in the group. Why was one of them always surprised at the other’s ability to adhere to stereotype?
She tapped her chin again and looked elsewhere.
“Lucas, you’re drooling.”
