SnowdropsMarianne Delacroix
Soft murmurs. Gentle clacking of heeled shoes. Like ephemeral specters, beings swift and graceful moved about the room. Slowly coming to and finally returning to the realm of the wake and living, Marianne's eyes fluttered open. Vision blurry and hazy, thin shafts of sunlight broke into the dark calm of her bedroom.
"Ma dere! She's awake!" a hushed voice exclaimed to the others.
With her meager strength, Marianne pushed herself upwards to rise.
As she adjusted herself into a seated position, her currently messy curtains of night-black hair cascaded about her haphazardly.
Blinking away her residual grogginess, she rubbed at her slightly sleep-crusted eyes as someone walked over to the curtains of her room and slid them open. Allowing the full force of the day's sunlight into the chambers. Marianne winced, groaning slightly in displeasure as the rays forcibly accelerated her into a more alert state.
"Bonjour, Lady Marianne." Seven voices said in unison as they bowed their heads low to their fair lady.
All of them surrounding the foot of the Delacroix woman's bed.
With a pleasant and warm smile, Marianne softly chuckled.
"Bonjour, everyone."
Looking around, she was at a loss as to why she could hardly recollect her memories.
Why was she in bed? What events had transpired?
Before the question could even be asked, the senior-most and head of her Seven Lovely Maids spoke up.
Detailing everything that had happened during that point.
In short, the orcs had been successfully repelled.
She, Marianne, had overexerted herself once again and sustained non-life threatening injuries.
She had been in recovery at Brennan ever since.
Half of the Iron Rose forces had been deployed following a lead as to the culprit behind the orc attack.
To this, Marianne almost darted out of bed but two of her maids had quickly stopped her and set her back down.
Might as well as the sudden burst of energy made her feel ill and queasy.
She had not yet fully recovered her strength, sadly enough.
Whilst the remaining half remained behind to reinforce and patrol the garrison in the event of a secondary wave of attackers in the defense of the general populace.
"Captain Fanilly has explicitly relayed to us that upon your recovery, Lady Marianne, you are to only join the patrolling Iron Roses in their duties. She demanded that you not attempt to regroup with the others in their attempts to uncover more information on the enemy."
Marianne's brows furrowed in discontent, frowning.
Ultimately, she accepted her orders with a sigh and nod of her head.
A maid with a brush in hand sat next to her, beginning to straighten out and smooth her long hair.
"And what of- ..."
Marianne looked around and realized that her vassal, Sir Ricard, was not present. Was he with the patrols? It would not be within his character to leave her side during such a time.
As if reading the Delacroix Duchess' mind, the head maid continued.
"Sir Ricard has returned home to care for political matters that have arisen from his time away from the tribes."
Marianne was slightly saddened by this as she was unable to bid him a farewell, but alas.
"Very well. I suppose I shall resume my duties?"
The senior maid bowed her head once again.
"Of course, Lady Marianne. The bathhouses are being prepared along with your breakfast."
Out of the maids, it had appeared some of them left Marianne's chambers without a sign or sound.
One of the more energetic and rambunctious maids then suddenly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Marianne in an embrace, having held back tears of joy.
"We missed you, Lady Marianne! We were so worried!"
With another warm smile, Lady Marianne returned the hug.
Freshly bathed, fed, and dressed, Marianne was feeling far better than she had been. According to her maids, she had been out for quite some time. She made note in her mind that she must be more careful in the future. After all during her trials in her youth, she wasn't this presumably frail. Was she? In any case she made it a point to continue training and further honing if not her physical aptitude, her magical abilities. In any case, she had hoped to meet with some familiar faces to assure them of her well-being. No longer attended by Sir Ricard, two of her Lovely Maids took it upon themselves to be with her as she made her rounds of Brennan's streets. Though they bore no visible armor or weaponry, they remained in their eerily identical maid attire and make-up. They were simply there to ensure that Lady Marianne was 100% in good health. To which Marianne could only shake her head and shrug her shoulders. Sometimes they worried about her far too much. She was tougher than she looked. Not many could withstand channeling and casting lightning magic after all, at least to her knowledge.
As she dutifully scanned the streets and crowds of Brennan's citizens, she was happy that the environment appeared to be just as normal as always thus far. The people were energetic and bustling as usual. The sun was warm and inviting. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just simple folk going about their business day in, day out. Nothing to worry about.
Continuing her patrol, it was then she noticed a small gathering of knights that could only be Iron Roses. However, to her dismay, they were no knights that she could recall the names of. Their faces unrecognizable to her memory. She really needed to work on that, as well. How? She had no clue. Thankfully, two of them had walked away whilst one remained to aide a troubled civilian. She had only caught part of what was going on as she neared. Something about a lost canine companion? A soft subject in the Delacroix woman's heart, as she had grown up with Sir Ricard after all.
"Bonjour!-"
Marianne started to go off in her native tongue, but quickly reminded herself that this was not Ithillin.
"Greetings, comrade! What seems to be the problem here?"
How hard was she knocked around in the previous incursion?
Marianne struggled with her accent in her attempts to somewhat 'control' it.
Clearing her throat, her maids left her side temporarily as the nearby children gathered around them in a frenzy.
Amazed and curious as to how two people can look so 'alike' and with their rather unique and foreign clothing.
Of course, the women adored the children, lowering themselves to children's level and cheerfully maintaining their attention as they answered questions. Sociable as ever, Marianne thought, glancing at them sidelong.
