|Summary:||While mommy is away….the child will be nosey.|
|Related Logs:||Secret Admirer of Your Corpse|
|Do you really want to know?|
|Thurs August 5, 2011|
<FS3> Isolde rolls Stealth: Success.
<FS3> Isolde rolls Alertness: Good Success.
The early evening sees Valda away to tend to some business and the meal over with. The servants for the most part are set to their quarters with nothing more needed of them. It is to this that Isolde enters the residential corridor and gives a look once or twice before she takes lightly to the floor with her barefeet. Dress gone and her evening gown adorned, the cloth is barely a whisper as she edges to the guest suite that has now been converted into Valda's new room upon her daughter's wedding.
The chamber door opens slowly and she edges a shoulder in to prop it open. A gaze inside to double check for any presence of another before she will slide inside and close the door.
With the hour suitably late enough to minimize the chance of occupants, Isolde encounters another difficulty: as the she slips inside and draws the door closed behind her, there is scarce any light to be had within the chamber. Rough shapes are visible, but little more- the four posed bulk of the bedposts, the chests containing Valda's favorite gowns, and numerous personal items about the chest of drawers. With the summer nights so warm, no fire has been stoked in the hearth.
Though there is no light, the Lady moves to secure a candle for herself, making sure it is set to the holder before carrying it over to the hearth. Slow quiet steps and there she grabs the flint, moving to crouch and set the candle down next to the hearth. Bent over it, she strikes the flint near the used and curled wick, it takes several times, but the spark catches eventually and the candle flares to life.
Isolde rises, taking up the candle and setting the flint back as she had found it before moving on. The flickering light is not expansive, but it is enough for one who knows where the things she is looking are hidden. To the gown trunk she moves, giving a look to the door before she curls her free hand around the cloth atop it and gently pulls it to the side and the floor. Thusly she opens the container and begins to move for the second drawer and her mother's herbs.
As the trunk's latch is loosed and its lid opened, a small scrap of parchemnt flutters across the low light of the lit taper, seemingly freed from the edge of the latch. Removing the bulky folds of fine fabric that compose two elaborate gowns- one the green gold and black gown that so sets off Valda's eyes, and the other a brown dress trimmed in gold and cream embroidery. Removing both of the gowns reveals the three smaller jewelry boxes: one crafted from Northern weirwood, an old wedding gift; another of sandalwood, and the third crafted of carved and polished panels of tusk-ivory.
That parchment is not easily missed and Isolde catches her breath. Of everything, that is the first thing she snags and sets aside to be replaced if possible. The dresses moved with care, the candle is set aside for that until her proving hands uncover the three boxes. First she moves to the wierwood, drawing it out into her lap. She takes a moment, fingering the edge in search of anything much like was on the trunk latch - the parchment. Then opening it slowly, she tilts her head to get a better look.
Within the first box are no surprises of a paper nature. Old rings and amulets not worn in many, many years are found instead. The Frey signet, and amulets and rings decorated in the colors of Valda's old house, as well as several other pieces which have gone out of Valda's favor over the years. A few might spark youthful memory in Isolde, several of them being gifts from Geoffrey, none of which having graced the lady's neck in many years. Jewels and pecious metals catch in the flickering light of the taper.
Were this any other time, Isolde might very well take the time to go through those small trinkets gifted by her father, but time is not on her side. Closing the wierwood box, she sets it back in as it was, reaching in for the sandalwood, keeping it even as she is unsure as to it's contents. Fingers curl around the edges, searching for hints again of things unseen before she opens it, lifting the lid and bringing it closer to the candlelight to see.
<FS3> Isolde rolls Herbalism: Good Success.
The sandalwood box brings to sight the familiar glossy shapes of the thick glass bulbs stopped and sealed with cork and wax. Any herbalist would recognize the bottles to contain liquids. Four of the vessels are within, set into sockets covered in costly velvet, the better to cusion from breakage. In amongst the four pomegranate shaped glass bottles is a small ceranic vial, to light to contain liquid. Tucked into the underside of the sandalwood cover are several dried sprigs of herb. Flowering herb with yellow, button-like blossoms- tansy; sprigs of woody shrub sprouting with spirals of silvery-green leaves- wolfsbane; jagged, three lobed leaves of dry mint; and the short, thin green leaves bearing a small lilac colored blossom- Pennyroyal.
With care, Isolde sets down the box and scoots back a bit, hands lowering to bring her closer as she stoops over the task at hand. Does tries not to disturb anything overly, but she begins to pluck the corked vials out to inspect them. Resting each against her palm at a time, she turns them in the candlelight to ascertain what they are. Her gaze narrowing on each until she is certain of what they are, setting them back in directly where she found them once she is done.
Of the four globular bottles, two are of roughly equal weight. One gives off no noticeable scent, but two are significantly weightier than the others. The lightest of all is mint oil, followed by pennyroyal, while the third identifiable substance is tansy. Three of the four ingredients in moon tea- the selfsame concoction Isolde herself is legally bound to partake in once a week for three months.
Setting them each aside, Isolde moves the two lightest off for further inspection later. For it is the velvet bottom of the box that has her attention. Plucking at it, she urges a nail into the side to try to pry it up, gaze narrowing she leans over the box. Tilting it some to help with the edging of it out, she pries until she is able to get a hold of it and expose what is beneath.
Once her attention fixes on the nesting velvet, it is not difficult to remove. Revealed beneath is what appears to be a key, fixed into place on the sandalwood by a blob of wax, easily pried loose by the look of it. What specific metal the key is of is difficult to tell in the low light.
Hesitation sets in as Isolde stares at the key. Biting at her lip, she takes a look back at the door and commits herself. Digging her nail into the wax, she means to break it clean away as best she can, trying not to shave bits off or leave what might be found. With care she works and she lifts the key to study it in more detail, turning it in the light.
<FS3> Isolde rolls Mind: Good Success.
It must have been hardened by age, as the innocent little blob of wax resists Isolde's efforts for an instant, before a better grip can be gained and it is pried loose, blob intact. The metal appears to be of brass, or perhaps dull gold, the teeth of the key look vaguely familiar, but in the low light it is difficult to tell for certain. The ornamental cap of the key however is clear: the two towers of Frey.
With very little to go on, the Lady hesitates and then turns, bringint the backside of the glob of wax and key to brush the tip of the flame. She softens the back of the aged wax slowly and then when it only starts to drip does she turn it upright and press it back into place, holding it there for a few seconds before setting it and the box down. Memorizing the set of the teeth of the key as best she can, Isolde places the false bottom back in and restores the two heaviest vials to their place. The last two, the lightest are lifted and looked at to see how much are contained in each.
It is as she starts to press the key back into place that Isolde first notices what begins as a faint itching where her fingers press against the metal. Once she begins to notice, it is followed shortly afterward by a telltale tingling sensation. All parts of the skin which had contacted the dull gily metal begin to follow suit moments later, as the second of the spherical vials is replaced in the velvet nest.
<FS3> Isolde rolls Herbalism: Good Success.
<FS3> Isolde rolls Chiurgeonry: Good Success.
As the itching begins there is a soft curse from her and Isolde scolds herself inwardly for such a fool's mistake. Her mother's things certainly would be guarded. Her brows furrow and she rubs her affronted fingers together in unconscious motion. Sighing, tries not to spread the natural toxin from the key to any other portions of her skin. Ignoring the discomfort for now, she lifts the last two vials - checking for how old the wax is and how much is left in the bottles. One has to be Pennyroyal.
The wax on the round bottles is rather fresh, appearing to have had recent use, if shadowy glances from the uncertain light of a taper are any clue.
Setting the mint back in the box, Isolde grimaces some and and studies how much is left, approximating how has been used. Discerning the amount a moment more, she finally puts the vial of pennyroyal back in its correct place and closes the box. Her skin still itching, it now is becoming a dull burn. She sets the box back inside and hesitates at the ivory. Curiousity gets the better of her and she grasps it, pulling it out to open it slowly, inspecting it as she had the others.
The ivory box contains many of her favorite jewels. Chokers, rings, amulets, earrings. Yellow gold, silver and red gold, many with cut stones upon them. Each of the pieces inside is well familiar to Isolde's eye, even distracted as she is by a maddeningly itchy hand.
Nothing she doesn't recognize or find out of place, she closes the box and sets it back within. She has her answers, at least from her and now she pushes the candle to the side in order for her to have room to fluff and fold the dresses as best she can with that burning hand. She grits her teeth, lips pressing into a firm line before she sets each in their place. Her hand begins to throb some and it grows irritating, running a sensation all the way up her arm to make her skin prick.
The scrap of paper is taken up and as she closes the lid, she bows her head and tilts it to ease it into place with care. She lowers the lid slowly till it catches the parchment and now the trunk is returned as it was. She reaches down for the cloth and spreads it out over the top of the trunk, brushing her burning hand along it and wincing some. Hissing through her teeth, she takes the time she needs to make sure it is in place. The candle is lifted and with care, she stands back, giving alook about the room quickly for anything out of place.
Finally she licks her middle finger and thumb. Isolde places them over the flame quickly and quenches its light with a press to keep the wick as it was. She does it again to cool the wick and then blows gently against the wax to help harden it. Slowly she moves for the dresser where she drew it from and sets it down slowly. She turns it just so and looks at it again as her eyes adjust to the light. Then with final care she double checks her work in the dim light before turning to open the door and steal herself from her mother's chambers.
<FS3> Isolde rolls Stealth: Success.
The door is opened with the silence of well oiled hinges maintained by servants with good reason to be thorough. One of the tower's retainers can be seen walking down the hallway with her back to Isolde, carrying a basket filled with soiled clothes for washing.
Nearly giving a start at the sight, Isolde lingers not and then moves for her own chamber doors. She eyes the retainer a moment longer and slides within to try to find some sort of remedy in her own supplies for her burning hand. She winces, noting the red discoloration.