crystal;

[heirring]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Wysteria
RECIPIENT: Everyone
NOTES: A very heartfelt announcement. No shenanigans here, no siree.

[The sun is—well, not quite shining as it is rather very overcast. The birds are—shrieking is really more in line with what the seagulls swooping about the Gallows do. But at least Wysteria Poppell is this morning at her most aggressively bright:]

Good Morning, Riftwatch. This is Miss Wysteria Poppell with a very brief but quite happy announcement.

For those of you who are not otherwise engaged outside the Gallows on the date in question, I should like to cordially invite you on Summerday to bring your best clothes and join the company which will be travelling from here to Edlingham Hall in the Vinmark foothills.

Warden Andrasteia has helped to arrange a very lively party there. We will be camping in the ruin overnight, and expect to engage in all the usual dancing and playing of music and general revelry which is typical in celebration of myself and Monsieur de Foncé's most sincere wedding vows.

Gifts are not unwelcome, but are hardly necessary; we wish only to celebrate our most enduring happiness with anyone who should care to share it. Thank you in advance for all your kind words and congratulations.

Comments

[heirring]

[Uhhhh no that would be ridiculous????]

I suppose I don't have to tell you that those are rather impolite questions to put to a young woman in place of congratulations, sir.

[bouchonne]

Miss Poppell, please do recall that you have expressed directly to me a strong dislike of the man.

[heirring]

Did I? [Shoot, she probably did.] I hardly recall.

—But that is on occassion the way of these things, you know. I recognize you are no great reader, but such conceits are often central to the fiction. Of books.

And stories are usually based at least a little on facts. Facts in life. So I suspect the swelling of such emotion to be quite natural.

[bouchonne]

[ Uh huuuuh. ]

Very well, then. My sincerest congratulations. Tell me, what qualities were they, that turned your heart so from dislike to love? What are his charms that won you over so?

[heirring]

[Thanks the gods this is a private conversation, is her thought rather than how she might, say, simply and perfectly reasonably object to answer.]

Well he is quite bright. —I suppose it simply at some point during our long association occurred to me that perhaps the shared passion for certain intellectual pursuits which led us to be so argumentative with one another might equally be admired.

And he is quite enthusiastic about my work, of course.

And also looks well.

[bouchonne]

And his personality?

[heirring]

His personality?

[bouchonne]

Yes. Presumably you like some aspects of that?

[heirring]

Oh. [She laughs, ha ha.] Yes of course. Well he is quite funny, isn't he? There is a particular kind of charm to a person who is so obviously eccentric. And—

Really, Ambassador. You of all people should know how dearly I cherish rigorous conversation and there are is no one in Riftwatch happier to indulge me.

[That much at least must be true.]

[bouchonne]

What do you mean by rigorous conversation?

[heirring]

The kind which someone evidently might mistake as an argument were they not similarly inclined. Most happily, the gentleman is.

[bouchonne]

Ah. Of the sort we have.

[heirring]

Had.

[bouchonne]

[ A beat. ]

At your word, madame. Had.

[heirring]

Then yes indeed. Somewhat near to that.

[bouchonne]

And yet between us, it led to the severing of all ties and relationship. But with him, it led to love.

[heirring]

As I said, it is entirely a matter of inclination. Indeed, I suspect the man in question rather invulnerable to direct insult, much less to the mere perception of it.

[bouchonne]

As am I, madame.

[heirring]

Yet behold the very stones underfoot.

But perhaps then it is a matter of the subjects of these conversations. Monsieur de Foncé is very keen to talk about books and the sciences and all manner of study. He has even on one occasion heard my recommendations for cross-stitch.

[bouchonne]

I see.

I will confess, Miss Poppell, that if you speak true, and this is a love match, that gives me far greater concern than I would have were you merely making use of the man.

[heirring]

[And there, as in reply to a splinter sliding under the skin, she bristles.]

Was that your fear? That I had somehow deceived him?

[bouchonne]

[ Flatly: ]

No. My concern was that you are in some unfortunate situation that compels you to make a husband of a man for whom you have no fondness.

[heirring]

[Well now what's she meant to do with all these bristled hackles?]

Oh. No. Nothing could be further from the truth. I am perfectly well. Thank you.

[bouchonne]

I think there is rather little that is well when one is marrying a disinherited bounder of no good reputation, a fellow who is incapable of focus or follow-through, who has consistently demonstrated himself to be without any sense of responsibility beyond his foolish and whimsical interests. But all right.

[heirring]

[How good of him to provide some direction for all these needles to fly in.]

Why Ambassador, I had no idea we were so closely related. You haven't been hiding my mother in a closet somewhere all this time, have you?