You are not. [ A firm correction she gives him often, but then, she shifts with it. Her eyes brighten then, laughing just a little. ]
Oh, there we go. You have to find me a cad. Completely awful. He'll be so devilish and desperate, he'll do anything - like seducing a rich widower that's famous for cutting of Lords' heads.
[ It's only a little bit sarcastic, and regardless of what he has to say that, when she feels the cab stop at last, she looks back down at her still shoed foot, and sighs. Oh she doesn't want to put the other one on, she never wants to look at the damn things. Why did she have a tiny wisp of a Betan for a mother that would leave her ten feet smaller than everyone else.
No, not after this whole evening, she can't face them again and she holds up her hand to wait a second to Byerly and fishes off the other shoe before she shuffles forward in the cab of the groundcar to the driver. The questions aren't particular secretive. Her ridiculous acts of unwanted charity she insisted on giving to other people as she fished off a ring from her finger to go along with it and the conversation was simple 'Do you have a wife? Does she like shoes? Oh no, I have worn them once, just this evening, and I did not like them. They should sell for a good few hundred. Take the ring too. I only bought it to match them anyway. Yes, yes I am that Lady Lakshmi Vornewalkar. Have a good night'.
Then she's bare to her stockings when she gets out. Pressing on her toes so she didn't ruin them completely. ]
[ He's laughing by the time she's returned to her seat, laughing hard - at her, at the driver, at the shoes, at this whole situation. Almost hard enough that it hurts. Good God, only her. Oh, there are a few Vor ladies who might cast their shoes aside, certainly, but only a very scant handful who'd think to give them to the driver. And only she would throw in the matching ring. Good God, what a woman. ]
Here.
[ He climbs out of the cab beside her, and hunches over a little. A proper Vor lord would, of course, sweep her up in his arms, carry her princess-style inside. But he's a little small and thin-armed for that. So, instead, he taps his shoulder, inviting her to climb up so he can carry her piggy-back. ]
[ She doesn't hesitate, as she climbs up on his back. Her knees locking around her hips, her arms going around his shoulders. Her head resting on his shoulder, her purse tucked in one hand as she settles on his back. Easy as when they were children. Pressing her chest against his back and trying to helpfully as she could to keep her hair out of his way. ]
Are you ever sick of carrying me about?
[ He gives her so much, she thinks often, he lets her be so selfish of him, his time. When he serves as much as any man, if not more so to her mind, in a myriad of little cruelties that he will never be rewarded as he should be for. Lets her draw him into her to keep herself breathing when she swears she will drown. ]
Well, I don't know. Do you ever get sick of me taking ruthless advantage of you?
[ Teasingly, he reaches back and cops a feel...of her ankle. Not so much advantage, really...
In spite of his whining and self-deprecation of his physical state and capacities, he carries her easily inside, trotting and bouncing her like a high-spirited horse. ]
[ No, not really, but even so, she's never hated when he touched her, even when they were younger and both - idiots about the world to say the least. Hadn't change when they got older and that reach back only lets her curl her body in tighter to him. The press of her chest into his shoulder blades, muffling her shriek of laughter as he takes off. Gripping hard to his shoulders, fingers clutching onto his clothes. ]
[ He laughs in return as she giggles, the sound for once completely unedged with irony or nastiness - the sound completely, utterly sincere. He runs into the house and spins, twirling her so her skirts spin out. ]
[ She keeps laughing, because this - this is theirs, this isn't the council of counts, or a subject of vor gossip or anything else. Where she's pressed hard into him to not fall, to make the movements easier. Her laughter high, feeling his own rumble back into her chest. That - that is hers, that she doesn't have to share with the men and women he plies himself too, doesn't have to care about who is watching. Dizzying, better than drink or drug or - well things that were more her purview than hers as she grips tight. Pressing her face into the side of his, out of breath even if she isn't doing much at all. ]
[ He rubs his cheek against hers in sheer fondness before backing up to a chair and kneeling down - his muscles trembling just a little bit, his physical strength not quite enough to kneel smoothly. He teases her as he eases her backwards - ]
[ She tumbles back into the chair. NSnorting at what he said - well, one of them had always been the first to climb trees and the other always preferred books. An unfair advantage she uses now. Shifting her legs to hold to his waist - and yes too intimate, yes too much and if they were caught like they were children still, they'd both be scolded if not worse where her skirts up the tops of her thighs, and he's caught in her wrap of her limbs but - to hell with it all. She yanks him back, and with it, leans forward so she can bite his ear. Not hard, but a sharp nip. ]
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Well, I only do because I am worthless in all other ways. Hm, perhaps that's the key...find someone without merit, who knows he has to impress you.
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Oh, there we go. You have to find me a cad. Completely awful. He'll be so devilish and desperate, he'll do anything - like seducing a rich widower that's famous for cutting of Lords' heads.
[ It's only a little bit sarcastic, and regardless of what he has to say that, when she feels the cab stop at last, she looks back down at her still shoed foot, and sighs. Oh she doesn't want to put the other one on, she never wants to look at the damn things. Why did she have a tiny wisp of a Betan for a mother that would leave her ten feet smaller than everyone else.
No, not after this whole evening, she can't face them again and she holds up her hand to wait a second to Byerly and fishes off the other shoe before she shuffles forward in the cab of the groundcar to the driver. The questions aren't particular secretive. Her ridiculous acts of unwanted charity she insisted on giving to other people as she fished off a ring from her finger to go along with it and the conversation was simple 'Do you have a wife? Does she like shoes? Oh no, I have worn them once, just this evening, and I did not like them. They should sell for a good few hundred. Take the ring too. I only bought it to match them anyway. Yes, yes I am that Lady Lakshmi Vornewalkar. Have a good night'.
Then she's bare to her stockings when she gets out. Pressing on her toes so she didn't ruin them completely. ]
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Here.
[ He climbs out of the cab beside her, and hunches over a little. A proper Vor lord would, of course, sweep her up in his arms, carry her princess-style inside. But he's a little small and thin-armed for that. So, instead, he taps his shoulder, inviting her to climb up so he can carry her piggy-back. ]
Come on, get up.
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Are you ever sick of carrying me about?
[ He gives her so much, she thinks often, he lets her be so selfish of him, his time. When he serves as much as any man, if not more so to her mind, in a myriad of little cruelties that he will never be rewarded as he should be for. Lets her draw him into her to keep herself breathing when she swears she will drown. ]
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[ Teasingly, he reaches back and cops a feel...of her ankle. Not so much advantage, really...
In spite of his whining and self-deprecation of his physical state and capacities, he carries her easily inside, trotting and bouncing her like a high-spirited horse. ]
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[ No, not really, but even so, she's never hated when he touched her, even when they were younger and both - idiots about the world to say the least. Hadn't change when they got older and that reach back only lets her curl her body in tighter to him. The press of her chest into his shoulder blades, muffling her shriek of laughter as he takes off. Gripping hard to his shoulders, fingers clutching onto his clothes. ]
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Oh, you're heavier than I remembered, Lakshmi...
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No, you're scrawnier.