Haeddi went to bed with a sunburn across her shoulders that did the opposite of warming her. After a long day, tramping about the dunes around the Imperial beach and summer festival, one would think the youngest of nine would be excited for the next day. Instead, she had fallen asleep with a scowl painted across her face.
Oh, how her blood was boiling from the thought of having every sense of outside socialization that day ruined by all the older folks around her. Her papa's little friends, her older sister, even her uncle- the High Reverend himself- had her grumbling that day.
Before she had crawled under her quilts, though after she had waved the maid from her chambers, Haeddi emptied the pockets of her Ravenstad tailored trousers. A pearl, two love letters, a shiny little pebble, and a lost earring marked her day.
A pearl for a Varran friend by the rock pools that her uncle had so desperately wanted her to go to, likely to keep her away from talking to anyone that was remotely not blue-blooded (ironic due to the choice of Harhold inheritance).
A love letter from a Detective and one from a hidden lover, both stolen from the crime scenes that were beachside homes. Though she had gone with the purpose of helping solve the mystery, she couldn't stop herself from taking a bit of a reminder from the wild day.
A stone from the ocean, taken moments before Agatha found sights of the common man she'd yet to learn the name of. Haeddi intended to find it out, and she intended to befriend the odd grass-skirt wearing Velheimer. Who says you can't have exotic friends?
Lastly, a lost earring. Why, there was no special meaning behind that one. Instead, she had just found it against the road through the festival when she had been marching away from her kin and their fun-hating friends. In all honesty, someone was probably looking for this earring right now- but she didn't care much to find the actual owner.
A neat little collection from a horrible long day.
As the child scanned the found items she couldn't help giving a soft sigh. Perhaps she should stop being so negative? She remembered her mother once saying that spite could be the death of you. Or, perhaps that had been her aunt- looking back, her mother's blood was probably filled more with spite than actual red.
Haeddi considered it a few moments more, sliding the idea around in her head; should she be less negative about all the annoying adults that felt the need to bother her with every rule and etiquette?
So with that, the sunburnt and shivering little lass flung herself into bed and fell asleep filled with bitterness. Not that it was anything unusual. She'd probably wake in the morning expecting a hug and kiss from her sister before they took another trip into the city to mock more of the poor folks.
But, as children would be. One moment these problems are as important as a pearl- and in the next, they're like any old pebble in the sea.
"No fair." She whined as her sister dragged her away from the beach once the friendly common man had appeared.
"Big deal." The Anglian grumbled as she was told not to purchase a lighter from the Qadir merchant on the street (despite the fact it would be her own coin from her brother that she wasted on such a tool).
"Leave me be!" She finally shouted as Inquisitors squashed about her in a formed wall against non-noble folks.
"Big deal." The Anglian grumbled as she was told not to purchase a lighter from the Qadir merchant on the street (despite the fact it would be her own coin from her brother that she wasted on such a tool).
"Leave me be!" She finally shouted as Inquisitors squashed about her in a formed wall against non-noble folks.
Oh, how her blood was boiling from the thought of having every sense of outside socialization that day ruined by all the older folks around her. Her papa's little friends, her older sister, even her uncle- the High Reverend himself- had her grumbling that day.
"Who says I can't talk to commonfolk?" Haeddi grumbled as she was dressed for bed by one of the servants that lazed around the family estate. That night, she hadn't gone to stay at Agatha's in her comfortable little room, too petty and bothered to give her sister the joy of having her stay.
Before she had crawled under her quilts, though after she had waved the maid from her chambers, Haeddi emptied the pockets of her Ravenstad tailored trousers. A pearl, two love letters, a shiny little pebble, and a lost earring marked her day.
A pearl for a Varran friend by the rock pools that her uncle had so desperately wanted her to go to, likely to keep her away from talking to anyone that was remotely not blue-blooded (ironic due to the choice of Harhold inheritance).
A love letter from a Detective and one from a hidden lover, both stolen from the crime scenes that were beachside homes. Though she had gone with the purpose of helping solve the mystery, she couldn't stop herself from taking a bit of a reminder from the wild day.
A stone from the ocean, taken moments before Agatha found sights of the common man she'd yet to learn the name of. Haeddi intended to find it out, and she intended to befriend the odd grass-skirt wearing Velheimer. Who says you can't have exotic friends?
Lastly, a lost earring. Why, there was no special meaning behind that one. Instead, she had just found it against the road through the festival when she had been marching away from her kin and their fun-hating friends. In all honesty, someone was probably looking for this earring right now- but she didn't care much to find the actual owner.
A neat little collection from a horrible long day.
As the child scanned the found items she couldn't help giving a soft sigh. Perhaps she should stop being so negative? She remembered her mother once saying that spite could be the death of you. Or, perhaps that had been her aunt- looking back, her mother's blood was probably filled more with spite than actual red.
Haeddi considered it a few moments more, sliding the idea around in her head; should she be less negative about all the annoying adults that felt the need to bother her with every rule and etiquette?
"Hmph, I think not," stated the girl aloud to herself- possibly loud enough for someone else to hear in the house if they cared that much. Not that that single out of context sentence was much help to any answers at all to the youngest Harhold's feelings.
So with that, the sunburnt and shivering little lass flung herself into bed and fell asleep filled with bitterness. Not that it was anything unusual. She'd probably wake in the morning expecting a hug and kiss from her sister before they took another trip into the city to mock more of the poor folks.
But, as children would be. One moment these problems are as important as a pearl- and in the next, they're like any old pebble in the sea.
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OOC
Sleeptime hehe
OOC
Sleeptime hehe
