It was as though she had walked right out of a painting.
There was scarce little Gerard knew about Princess Eliabelle beyond what passed for "common knowledge" amongst a knightly order in nearly her direct service— that she was roughly the captain's age, for instance. It amazed him that someone so young could carry themselves with such an elegance and grace... her storied beauty certainly lent itself to that, but it also showed in the lightness of her stride, the read of her room, and how she held her head, wearing that beaming smile.
Assuredness and propriety oozed through her every movement, even beneath her eagerness to meet her honored guests. Never a gilded hair on her head out of place. It was easy to tell why she was so well-regarded, in that respect. As far as passing judgement upon royalty went, even a lowlife like he could certainly ascertain that she looked the part.
That dress alone is probably worth enough to feed my home for a month, he mused, watching its ornate porcelain-colored frills and folds and golden beads shimmer as she walked.
Something about elven tailoring, was it? I've never met an elf, but they certainly didn't hold back. An all too visible reminder of the type of world Knighthood meant stepping into. Seeing genuine royalty in person, being called to attendance of this celebration of extravagance by her, even perhaps exchanging a few words face-to-face...
The mind boggled. Intellectually, he knew such things were supposed to come with the territory. His head had filled itself with enough dreaming for that, but knowing and doing, as it so often was, were two very different things. Now that it faced him, it was was as though he was staring down—
"
I'll be outside to look at the pretty gardens. You guys have fun with the princess, alright?"
"Ah—"Before he could rebound and make a proper response, his compatriot had slunk away. Though he'd disguised his exit as he so often liked to, with an airy laugh and a wry sentence, Sagramore could feel that Lady Violette's dissatisfaction had hit home. The silence from him before the princess's entrance, before he took his leave, was telling enough. It wasn't like him to let the air hang where it had for so long. It drew a plain grimace from the swordsman as he belatedly realized what had transpired while he was trying to count golden beads.
"... I... didn't mean..."
His eyes flitted over to the Lady in question, tearing themselves from Jarde's wake to rest upon her sagging form. Haughty as she had been moments prior, now she seemed to begin to understand the weight her venting could have upon someone. That there were bridges one could burn by doing such a thing.
He'd hoped as much. She'd been all but smacked in the face with them; if not by Gerard himself, then certainly by this departure. They were socialites, weren't they? Women whose whole lives revolved around reading cues and piercing facades. To simply exist within court, noble trappings or otherwise, wasn't that much necessary?
...Is this not very similar, though, to what she believes of us?"Er... I apologize, sir knight," Angenese said, bowing her head, the other blonde doing the same. Violette averted her eyes.
Gerard exhaled through his nose, clearing his breath as he gazed upon the three...
"Don't."His stance was simple, and his position honest. For all he had worried about maintaining a knightly image, he couldn't allow this to be swept beneath the rug. It disagreed with him. It would simply stew, fester, and poison his friend's mind. His confidence would be shot to hell, and that could prove fatal. Moreover...
That Violette couldn't meet his gaze told him that she needed this just as much.
"At least, don't apologize to me. That's not going to solve anything." he continued, folding his arms with the sound of metal sliding against metal.
"I'm not the one who got hurt."This was definitely presumptuous of him. His tone had firmed now, and his words were getting freer by the minute. Certainly not a way to ingratiate oneself to somebody he had just moments ago pegged (rightfully or not) as coddled by the luxuries of nobility.
But even so. One needed to own what they said and did.
"I'm not the one who needs to hear it, though I thank you for your courtesy. Just as I said, you've merely lit a fire in me to excel. More importantly— You're not the one who should be apologizing either, Lady Angenese." his eyes locked with hers for a moment, before falling back on the girl in black.
"The antagonist should be making amends with the antagonized."Though his voice remained resolute, his face softened somewhat as he looked upon the clear shame she carried.
"Lady Violette."That meant she knew she had made a mistake, and that meant there was still hope. For this, and for her. He just needed to address her directly— and she just needed to address
this directly.
"We come from worlds alien to eachother. Where you've seen enough parties like this to be bored out of your skull, if I were to guess— I've spent seven and a half years living my life on the edge of a sword. That's a huge gap to cross when we try to make conversation. I can't speak for his background, but I feel safe saying it's just as removed from yours as mine."His assumptions laid themselves bare before his mind's eye once again, even as he spoke. Everything he was saying wasn't exclusive to these girls trying to understand the knights, after all.
"It's hard to bridge a void like that flawlessly, I know. Missteps happen— I've probably already made plenty just by saying what I am. Saying it in the way I am, too." he admitted.
"There's no way it's proper, for certain."It was rather austere and stern compared to the eggshells he had danced upon prior, but he felt he was still being fair to her. Acknowledging the mistake rather than saying it was malice was far from an attack upon her, when paired with an offered solution to the problem it had created. Hopefully he could get that much across.
"This wasn't unavoidable, I'm not saying that. But for what it's worth, I think I can understand it. I can get it, and I can forgive it. I'm certain Jarde can too. Enough that you won't be hated, at the very least. But the apology needs to be one-to-one. You to him, saying exactly what you mean to."On this, he would stand firm.
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