(122-05-03) Good and Bad in Everything
Good and Bad in Everything
Summary: As Marsei prepares for the day (and Loryn's party), Camillo drops in while news of the engagement between the Hightower and and Dhraegon Targaryen is still recent.
Date: 03/05/2015
Related: No Harm Done, Maiden Day Contests

Northwest Suite - 7 - The Hightower Battle Island

This is one of the smaller of the Hightower's suites, but it is still grand. It offers a unique view from its large window — from the opening one can overlook the city and see the seven domes and seven towers of the Starry Sept, and the Maidenday Gardens in the middle distance. The window has a wide padded sill large enough for one to sit comfortably and watch the city. The room is decorated to reflect the view, with images of flowers and gardens. Vases of flowers sit on all the tables with beautiful blooms and greenery. In the large sitting room are velvet-cushioned chairs and couches. The dull gray stone flooring is covered with a dark hunter green Myrish carpet trimmed in gold.

On one side of the suite an archway leads into a little dining room, suitable for ten or twelve people, and on the other there is a door leading to a bedroom. In the sleeping chamber a large four poster wooden bed rests in one corner, with a green and gold coverlet and lavish pillows. A matching wardrobe and nightstands are also present in this room. The nightstands boast crystal vases with lily flowers. The wall that leads to the sitting room is equipped with a hearth that heats both rooms should it be needed. In one corner sits a large copper bathtub.

Since nobles are not always early risers, Camillo waits for the sun to climb a bit in the sky before stopping by Marsei's room with a tray of some light foods. Even though she never ordered them.

Given that there is a party to be held today at Garden Isle, preparations are underway even here in the Hightower, where guests are concerned; Camillo's timing is quite accurate, for in her quarters, Lady Marsei is fully dressed in her gown of gentle yellow and has been decked in flattering jewels to match, but has not yet been fully made ready for the day ahead. Camillo is met by a young lady — some spare handmaiden of noble blood — on her way out on some task, and Marsei catches a glimpse of the servant with his tray. "Do come in!" she calls in her friendly manner, from her spot in the sitting room. Oddly enough, her spot is on the floor, sitting on one of the bed's velvet pillows with her dress pooled out around her while a blonde handmaiden is finishing the pinning of her braids and curls of her hair from the couch behind. Despite this girlish and not entirely lady-like setup, Marsei seems comfortable, although she twists her head to watch for Camillo, to make sure it is, in fact, him.

Camillo does come in, looking down at Marsei at where she is seated on the ground. "My lady, good morning," he greets. "I thought a little food, as you and your maidens are likely busy with preparations."

"Good morning, Camillo! How very thoughtful of you." Marsei smiles up at Camillo, bright and seeming in good spirits, although perhaps her hands are clasped a little too tightly in her lap. She twists slightly toward the young lady at her back, raising a hand that is then taken by the handmaid, who helps her rise elegantly up — inasmuch as possible, off the floor. "The butterfly pins, I think. Can you go fetch them?" As the light-haired handmaiden slips past and toward the bedroom, Marsei sits down properly on the couch.

Camillo brings the tray within arm's reach. "Did you sleep well, my lady?" he asks. Which may be a question that aims at more than just information about sleep.

"I did," Marsei answers politely; that too has the sense of not being the whole story. She reaches delicately for a bit of food, plucking the snack from the tray. "I was quite tired yesterday," she adds; spoken lightly, casually, it belies nothing serious— except, "I was sad to miss the Maiden Day contests." Which isn't to say word from the event hasn't reached her ears.

Camillo inclines his head. "I, too, was too busy with duties to attend in person. But I understand Lady Lillian won the horse racing. And, of course," he says, looking at the food on his tray, "I hear the news of your engagement was received by the crowds."

"Yes," she responds, quick and rather neutral, also looking at the tray. She eats what she has in hand and both hands join to fidget slowly in her lap, dismissing crumbs that aren't there. "Not especially well received, by some, from what I hear," Marsei adds — she's determinedly upbeat about it, smiling as if a good mood could dismiss gossip so easily. She reaches for another snack while the sounds of delicate rummaging through jewelery drifts from the bedroom section. "I suppose it— is surprising."

Camillo is perhps sorry that Marsei is so quick to note his lack of adjective. "Perhaps," Camillo says. "To some. But some will be surprised by anything. And most readily forget what they were surprised by. People will warm to the news in time."

To this, she smiles; it's an expression full of thought, but also true warmth. "Always the bearer of good news, Camillo, at least in the form of a level head," Marsei delivers. "It is a good reminder." She looks in the direction the handmaid disappeared, but doesn't seem concerned with the girl's apparent struggle to find what she's looking for. She's newer. "To be honest, I am relieved to have the decision made," she says quieter, looking up at Camillo with lifted brows, sweetly expectant, "I suppose you can forget my previous words on my earlier decision about Prince Dhraegon?"

"I will consider them words spoken in your heart only, and I have no knowledge of such things," Camillo replies. "But any thoughtful decision should be accompanied by doubt, in my opinion. Otherwise, one is not seeing clearly." He finds a good place to set the tray down, where it's convenient but not likely to be knocked over. "There is good and bad in everything, my lady."

Gentle gratitude touches Marsei's smile. "You are quite right," she says, looking away pensively, "and they are sometimes so difficult to weigh. It reminds me of that saying; two sides of the same coin?" So often used to describe Targaryen madness, as it happens. She doesn't dwell long, though it seems to tempt her, a hint of worry marking her brows before they smooth. The handmaiden returns with at least four hairpins, a variety of silver and gold, all featuring butterflies, although one might be an abstract bird; who could fault her. Marsei certainly doesn't, brightening instead. "Not these ones," she says, taking away all but two matching gold adornments. She simply turns slightly where she sits, giving the younger lady access to her hair. It takes only a short moment.

"Yes, indeed, my lady," Camillo agrees. He stands by while Marsei has her hair dressed. "Above all, the people will be glad to see you happy. You are much liked."

"How kind of you to say," she beams over at Camillo; all in all, she takes the words modestly, though, looking down after the fact as her handmaiden puts the finishing touches on her hair. "I do hope that's the case," Marsei adds, "you certainly give me hope that it is." She rises. Hair pinned, she seems to take it on faith that it looks as it should, absent the mirror it would normally be done near. She sets straight to turning about her suddenly mystified but acquiescent handmaiden gently by the shoulders and affixing one of the lavish silver jeweled butterfly-topped pins into her hair. "You will of course come as well," she tells the girl cheerily, "Ser Loryn will be pleased."

"I believe it is," Camillo says honestly, nodding once. "When I pass through the city on errands, I hear the speech of many tongues, but never have I heard a bitter word in connection with your name. And that is rare, among names well known to people."

The new handmaiden is a bit overeager to pitch in, "Nor have I, my lady!"

"That is lovely to hear. A comfort," Marsei replies, her eyes animating with a wave of relief before she smiles, cheerful and benevolent, of the very nature that lends to such a reputation of sweetness. The expression only fades as she focuses on fussing with the handmaid's hair, deciding to sweep some of the blonde locks together into a swift braid to fortify the fashion. Done, she stands back, clasping her hands. "Lovely! Don't forget to try some of the food Camillo has so kindly brought."

Camillo picks up the tray to offer some to the handmaid. "Though I am sure there will be very fine things to eat at the party."

"I have many a tactical friend who would eat now, so as to only pick elegantly at food later," Marsei says, smiling brightly — and reaching for another bit of food for herself, after her handmaid does first, "but I fully intend on eating whatever treats Garden Isle is sure to offer as well." No spoiled appetites here.

Camillo half-conceals a smile at Marsei's mention of that strategy. Apparently he's heard of it, though of course it's never been directly relevant to his life. "I am sure you would not be accused of gluttony even so, my lady."

"Oh, I hope I am," Marsei replies instantly in cheerful jest. "Perhaps I will set a trend, and everyone will be begin having cakes for every meal." Her handmaid giggles, either because she thought the lady truly funny or because she thinks she's supposed to giggle.

"Be a lot of work in the kitchens," Camillo returns in a quietly playful tone. "But perhaps that would mean making room for more servants.

"I should love to offer more jobs," Marsei replies in the same bright and jesting tone, although her words are not entirely jest, "I think the Hightower should always be full, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," Camillo returns without a doubt. "There is a great deal of work to do here to keep up such a majestic place."

"You all work so tirelessly, I am quite in awe of you, to be honest," Marsei tells Camillo, jest gone but cheer well in place. The handmaiden who slipped out earlier now returns — not Siva; she seems to be absent today thus far. Marsei smiles to her, then to Camillo, saying, "And speaking of which, I suppose I shan't keep you with idle chatter! Thank you for the tray, and for the words."

Camillo inclines his head, then picks up the tray to take it away. What hasn't been eaten will probably get snapped up by servants.

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