Marianne Newhook closed the door to her room gently, putting away the light din of the party occurring in the main hall of the castle. Nyrene was at that party, and she imagined that Sharra would join her once she returned from escorting Farelia to her husband's manse in the city that expanded beneath the walls of Castle Greyrook. In her letters to Marianne, Farelia Newhook had told her that it wouldn't be necessary for her to have rooms both at Greyrook and at Clement Braughtley's estate, because she'd be spending most of her time at court. However, when Marianne arrived, she found the opposite to be true. Farelia was scarcely at the castle, leaving her handmaidens with little to fill their days in terms of work. It didn't seem to bother Nyrene and Sharra, who had no trouble keeping themselves busy - Sharra by gossip, and practicing her dances, and Nyrene filled her days teasing men and taking naps. They were content, it seemed.
Marianne missed her sister dearly. She'd come all the way to the capital to spend time with her, and it felt as though there was so little of it. It reminded her of her years practicing medicine at the Temple of Grigor near Ralmeere, when time spent with Farelia was terribly difficult to come by. Then, when her studies were complete, she returned to an empty castle, where her parents told Marianne with stone faces that they'd sent Farelia to the capital to be a handmaiden to Princess Jeselle. She was so unsure why it was sudden, and Farelia did little to clear things up in her letters to her. She told Marianne to not worry, that it was of her own accord, but Marianne was suspicious. Farelia was so well respected in Ralmeere, she was like a queen. Some seemed to give her more reverence than Lord Andrew, or her mother, Lady Bernea.
The exhausted noblewoman turned, yawned, and collapsed onto the bed, her low heeled shoes falling weakly from her feet. Marianne Newhook's room here was a simple one, but still befit a young noblewoman. An ornately carved single-bed was pressed into a corner, neatly made with simple white bedding and a large pillow resting at the head. At it's foot was a chest that once held the majority of things Marianne owned when she arrived in the Gandoran capital, but the items therein had dwindled as she slowly unpacked more and more. Now it only held a couple of well-worn books, an equally worn corset, and a simple silver necklace, a gift from Sir Victor.
Past the chest and against the wall was a modest vanity with a tall mirror. Marianne kept numerous bits of jewelry and vials of perfume on its surface, with makeup materials filling the drawers. Truth be told, it was mostly empty. Marianne learned that she didn't own nearly as many beauty items as most ladies who lived in Greyrook did, and was hardly catching up.
The other wall, opposite the bed, presented a large wood closet that housed much of her clothing, and a spacious desk with a single low shelf above it. It was as large as any desk she ever owned at her family's estate in Ralmeere, and Marianne adored it. It was her favorite part of the room, and she'd stored numerous books on the shelf, and stacked additional ones by the legs. Currently, the book on the desk was opened halfway through Meditations of Valera, an autobiography of a noblewoman-turned-bandit queen some two hundred years ago. Valera was clearly an eloquent scholar, and her ideas on leadership and life's purpose apparently appealed to Farelia - it was her favorite book, and she'd recommended it to her sister. Marianne read it because it made her feel close to her.
Gods, she wished she'd gone with Sharra and her into the city. Marianne saw Farelia only this morning, but she missed her dearly already. At this point, Farelia was probably in Clement's arms as they drifted off to blissful dreams. She considered how challenging it would be to move into Clement's mansion. It couldn't be too disruptive, could it? She'd miss Sharra and Nyrene, certainly, but it's not as if she'd never see them - plus, she'd be around Farelia more. Marianne made a silent bet that Clement owned a reading desk just as nice as the one in her bedroom. She could've brokered the idea as they traveled from Greyrook. Instead, she stood in the courtyard with Nyrene to watch military men strut about.
Still, she got to see the prince. And she had to agree with Nyrene - he was certainly something worth seeing.
Marianne's chest heaved through her teal dress as she exhaled deeply. She wondered how the party was going. She couldn't hear much of it from her room, but she suspected it would be going long into the night. The parties at Greyrook always did, even when the prince was off at war.