[hr][hr][center][h1][color=#00ccff]Nora Kingston[/color][/h1][img]http://66.media.tumblr.com/d65982248d22a4a2f08d12283f865536/tumblr_inline_mm97tybye31qz4rgp.gif[/img][hr]Location: Garden City - Apartment 301 Maratos Building at No.6 Walda Pasha[/center][hr][hr]Nora took her seat on the sofa, Spot eagerly leaping up and sniffing at her hand. She smiled slightly at the intelligent creature, and ruffled the fur on his head ever so slightly, as she continued to sort through the mail. The paper had been delivered, written entirely in Arabic. Despite her lengthy stay in Cairo and her interest in decoding the language, she could not read it without the help of mathematics. And so, she glanced at the paper for a moment, before setting it aside. 

[color=00ccff]"Perhaps you might be better suited to reading it than I,"[/color] Nora whispered to her dear dog. She spoke to him more than she did to most people. A dog never concerned itself with social conventions, and nor did a dog accuse her of bringing shame to the family name. She then picked up the post from England. Her sister Emmaline had wrote her, letting her know of the family news. It was mostly trivial at best, detailing the pursuit of wives for her unwed brothers, and the maintenance of domesticity for her sisters. 

However, the papers from London provided something perhaps more interesting. It would appear the Lord Captain had become the talk of the ton, with gossip and rumors circulating his valiant escape from the clutches of the Germans. Some speculation included his ties to the Lady Munn, and Nora smiled coyly to herself. The papers seemed to have been correct in their theory that he had headed to Egypt. And it would seem that the Lord Captain intended to make a wife out of the Lady Munn. 

The pair did seem suited for each other. Nora herself did not pay much attention to the eligible bachelors of England. For she could not bear a child--no man could ever want her. And Nora was not too certain that she could ever bring herself to want any man. She operated best in solitude. The world could continue turning without her, and it would not bother her in the slightest.