|Sewing With Mom|
|Summary:||Lucienne asks Evangeline some questions as they work.|
|Related Logs:||The one from yesterday… Terrick Sibling Meeting!|
|Solar, Four Eagles Tower|
|I don't know. Use your imagination.|
There are seats in the Lady Evangeline's solar, positioned optimally by the window to make use of the daylight that streams in through open curtains; perfect for sewing, or the finer dip of the needle that embroidery requires. Lucienne is practicing here today, her hair braided neatly back from her face for the task, her smile set somewhat forcedly as she guides her needle and thread through a hooped piece of fabric. "Mother, dear," she says, preceding the lift of her head. "Do you think I should change the colour of the thread for these flowers?"
"You should find some a touch darker for shading, but otherwise it is a pretty color, my love," Evangeline murmurs after giving the question due thought, lifting her own dark gaze from the tallies of the household stock to study the embroidery blossoming under Lucienne's fingers. "We have a lovely shade a bit darker that would do well against it." Her attention slides back to her own work, quill set delicately against paper as she guides her fingers down a column of numbers with care.
"Thankyou," comes the reply from daughter, her smile shading far more genuine for the advice, and the compliment. Lucienne adds another few stitches before venturing conversation again, idle and thoughtful. "The Lady Elinor asked if we might take tea with she and her sister," says Luci, her needle pausing as she looks up again. "Though I hear she rode out to Tall Oaks. Perhaps upon her return?"
Lady Evangeline's smile is a much more mild sort of a thing, giving little away in it's politeness. She says only, graciously, "The ladies are welcome to join our tea time any day they find convenient, my dear. If they would like a more private affair, without the ladies-in-waiting and the household, I am sure such can be arranged." She abandons her figures this time, the book closing slowly as her focus settles instead on her only daughter.
"I'm certain the Lady Elinor will be delighted, either way - she seems eager to make a good impresion," is Lucienne's observation, her sewing slowly drifting down into her lap. "Ser Jarod mentioned that he'd heard tell Jaremy was to be sent to the Wall." She blinks at her mother, clearly hoping for confirmation one way or another.
"Oh? Who said such?" Evangeline questions, no sign of surprise in the sharp features, though there is no sign of much else except a mild curiosity drawn deep in her dark gaze.
"Ser Hardwicke." Lucienne is prompt in her reply, no hint of reluctance at naming all those involved in such gossip. "Ser Jarod says," she pauses, that it may be easier to follow along, "That Ser Hardwicke says that Lord Ryker gave his word. And that you might tell us more."
Evangeline murmurs, only a soft sound that slips from her lips in agreement. She pauses, her gaze falling sharply over her daughter in a brief assessment before she says merely, "I have indeed had word from Stonebridge that Jaremy may be sent to the Wall, written to alleviate a mother's fears. Though it may only be another Nayland lie."
Lucienne weathers her mother's gaze, sitting straight and tall and proper. She sounds rather childish as she repeats parts of other conversations, and perhaps she still looks so, to her mother's eye. "Jacsen says he can't imagine they would do any such thing unless we yield Stonebridge, but that's out of our hands, now."
"Your brother is a very smart man, Lucienne, but he does not know all of what the Naylands would or would not do. Neither do we, for that matter. Their word will prove true or false, in any event," Evangeline replies slowly, her words tinged with simple resignment. She shifts forward in her chair, fingers closing softly over Lucienne's knee in a reassuring gesture. "I know you worry for your brother, but we must keep hope that he will live."
Lucienne's lips press together thinly at that assessment of her brother, but she makes no comment. Her eyes dart down to her embroidery hoop, absently flicking over her stitchwork, drawn up again only at her mother's touch. As she lifts her chin, she smiles, just a small thing. "He might do well on the Wall," she offers, continuing on a little worriedly: "Did they ask nothing in return, mother?"
Evangeline shakes her head, the fall of her curls disturbed by the gesture where she answers simply, "They have asked for nothing that I know of, my dear."
Surprise is evident on Lucienne's face at that reply, her lower lip bit gently on the inside as she blinks. "That's… that is well," she recovers, just a brief moment later. "That is very well. Let us hope they keep to their word, mother dearest. I shall pray on it."
"We all should," Evangeline agrees, approval a soft touch of warmth along the syllables of her words before she opens her book again.
Her daughter, her tiny smile blossoming wider at Evangeline's approval, takes up her embroidery again. Just a few more stitches, and she'll be able to change threads.