[At the door to her lady's quarters, Suletta hesitates, her hand frozen where it's poised to gently rap at the door and announce her arrival. She waits there for a long time it seems, though it's only a few moments, because she's trying to gather herself. Her mother told her not to worry when she lamented (after several attempts at feigning cheer) that her presence was barely tolerated, sometimes not at all. The woman, her mother said, for all the finery she'd been lavished with, all the gems and pretty rooms and beautiful dresses, was not a woman at all. There was no need then to be frightened of her, or to be concerned with her disdain. She only needed to bear it a little longer. And she could do that, couldn't she? Surely she could, for her dear mother.
Of course she could. She loved her mother. And if her mother wanted her to do such a small thing, then... yes, she could bear it. She would bear it. It was no trouble at all to bear it.
In front of her, the stately door blurs before the image rights itself again. Suletta takes a deep breath, then as she always does, she knocks at the door before entering. This too was unnecessary, but it seemed so rude to barge in, to assert herself in someone's space without permission. The sickly sweet odor of herbs and smoke hits her before she's even in the room properly. She quickly shuts the door, shrouding them both in the oppressive cloak of darkness. Suletta hears herself saying:]
Hello, miss!
[In a cheery and robotic way as she sets to righting the mess in the room. Clothing strewn about, things overturned. Suletta works quickly and efficiently, even though the smoke makes her feel queasy and lightheaded. She doesn't complain, though she breezes by the conspicuous shape under the blankets and opens one of the windows to let the smell of sea salt and fresh air in. With her back turned away from her lady, she can take greedy gulps of air until the dizzy feeling goes away. She feels less clammy, momentarily refreshed. At last her gaze falls toward the bed, and her brow knits. Her hands twist anxiously, and she approaches with the caution of someone prepared to dart away at any moment.]
Are...
Are you hungry? Can I get you anything at all? You um... well, I noticed you didn't come down for breakfast, so I thought I would check on you.
no subject
Of course she could. She loved her mother. And if her mother wanted her to do such a small thing, then... yes, she could bear it. She would bear it. It was no trouble at all to bear it.
In front of her, the stately door blurs before the image rights itself again. Suletta takes a deep breath, then as she always does, she knocks at the door before entering. This too was unnecessary, but it seemed so rude to barge in, to assert herself in someone's space without permission. The sickly sweet odor of herbs and smoke hits her before she's even in the room properly. She quickly shuts the door, shrouding them both in the oppressive cloak of darkness. Suletta hears herself saying:]
Hello, miss!
[In a cheery and robotic way as she sets to righting the mess in the room. Clothing strewn about, things overturned. Suletta works quickly and efficiently, even though the smoke makes her feel queasy and lightheaded. She doesn't complain, though she breezes by the conspicuous shape under the blankets and opens one of the windows to let the smell of sea salt and fresh air in. With her back turned away from her lady, she can take greedy gulps of air until the dizzy feeling goes away. She feels less clammy, momentarily refreshed. At last her gaze falls toward the bed, and her brow knits. Her hands twist anxiously, and she approaches with the caution of someone prepared to dart away at any moment.]
Are...
Are you hungry? Can I get you anything at all? You um... well, I noticed you didn't come down for breakfast, so I thought I would check on you.