Marianne Newhook had told herself she was going to get back out there. To mingle, to make friends, to meet people, to do anything but wallow in her room day after day.
Yet, as she found herself standing next to Nyrene and Sharra in the swirling center of Jason Algrave's Misthallow party, all she could think about was how uncomfortable she was. She was never one for parties. Father's parties in Ralmeere were always dreadfully boring affairs, laden with stuffy merchants and lickspittles paying her hollow compliments while dealing improper looks upon her body. Marianne never spent more time at them than she absolutely had to, frequently ducking out of them after a mere hour, to spend time with Victor in her room. That's what she wanted now. To be out of her dress, cuddled up in bed.
Her attire was modest. It was a deep green dress with a long skirt that hung down to her ankles. It was trimmed with black, with thin black sleeves and a high neckline. Her hair was down. Nyrene had insisted she find a way to wear it up, but Marianne found that she lacked the energy for that tonight.
Yes, the noble-born girl had definitely gotten cold feet. She was no longer here to impress, she was here to survive.
The party swirled around her. Pretty young ladies laughed at the jokes of well-dressed dukelings and landed knights, placing delicate hands on their broad, silky chests. It wasn't uncommon for young people to find themselves at these parties with the explicit intention of finding companionship...be it romantic, or otherwise.
Marianne frowned, but at that moment Sharra cut through the throng and placed a full glass of wine in her hand. "Oh, goodness, thank you." she told her friend in a quiet voice.
"Not having a good time?" Sharra said in an unreadable tone. Sharra definitely sympathized with Marianne, she thought. What she really wanted was for Sharra to break, and tell Marianne they could return home. But that didn't happen. Sharra scanned the cavernous hall of the lodge with her, her bright green eyes dancing from group to group, from couple to couple. She wore a tan gown, with a shirted lace top that tumbled into a long skirt. The slender girl wore her slightly-curled hair up in an elegant tail. "I wonder if Kent is invited." she said drily, nodding her head to one corner of the room.
Nyrene Pryce was in a corner, on a couch with her legs up, and slightly parted. Between them and on top of her was Duncan Sorley, Nyrene's "friend" who had gotten the girls to this party to begin with. Her nimble hands roamed the back of his shaved head as they embraced in an impassioned kiss, while the knight's own hands roamed up the inside of the brunette's legs. Ostensibly, they seemed to be undiscovered. But the couple made little attempt to hide their passion, indeed, Marianne thought that if Nyrene parted her legs much more, she would have no issue catching glimpses of what's underneath, with the way that Duncan hiked up the skirts of Nyrene's black dress.
Marianne groaned and Sharra smirked. "Well." Marianne said somberly. "At least she's having fun, right?"
"That was never a concern, though." Sharra responded happily. "What we're truly here to do i-"
