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The weather was one of the rare comfortable sort at this time of the year. In late summer, it was common for the heat in the air to dry the lungs and burn the skin; to turn the waters of the wells lukewarm and the grass brown and rigid. And yet, on this particular day, the sun was high and yet hidden behind cloud, offering light and brightness without the oppressive heat of a summer day shifting into fall. The air was calm, without a harsh breeze to taper the tranquil temperature down to cold and the smell of the sea was fresh and welcoming.
Persephone had arranged to meet with Chrysanthe once more at the location of their first meeting. Considering it was easier to find a single spot upon which both were familiar than providing directions between one who did not know the land and another who was illiterate, the suggestion had been a natural one. After being assured of all the things a seamstress would need in order the learn her craft, Persephone had instructed her maids to collect the necessary items. In a woven basket that was attached to the back of her horse's saddle, there rested strips of cloth, winding spools of thread, a small and a sharp knife to cut things to size. Next to them nestled a small pile of simply written books that still held contents that Persephone thought Chrysanthe might enjoy. For there was no sense in attempting to learn to read something that the young girl found boring.
In the box that was set upon the back of her guardsman's saddle, there was nourishment for their lesson. Foods and wine and supplies that might be needed to ensure that they were comfortable, like blankets and cushions. Persephone had all that was required to make an outdoors classroom that the two ladies could sit down within and learn together, with the sea and horizon stretching out before them. Perhaps, such a view would be inspiring...
Persephone felt concern when she arrived at the edge of the cliffside to see the young girl already sitting upon the natural rocky bench that they had found the previous day. Worried that she was late and had caused the girl to wait on her, Persephone was careful yet quick in sliding down from the back of her steed and hurrying over with a more graceful step than her speed should have permitted, the swirls of her gown sweeping out in the breeze her movement created.
Dressed in a gown of bright yellow, the front of the dress secured at the centre of her collarbone in gold and then reaching up and around her neck, the young woman was looking more a queen than she had done in recent days. The golden bands around her upper arms gleamed as they caught the light and her hair, wound in a tight circular knot upon her hair, was equally shiny - like onyx tresses in the midday sun.
"Chrysanthe." Persephone greeted with a smile, reaching up to brush a hair away from her temple and anchoring it once more behind her ear. "I did not make you wait?"
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The weather was one of the rare comfortable sort at this time of the year. In late summer, it was common for the heat in the air to dry the lungs and burn the skin; to turn the waters of the wells lukewarm and the grass brown and rigid. And yet, on this particular day, the sun was high and yet hidden behind cloud, offering light and brightness without the oppressive heat of a summer day shifting into fall. The air was calm, without a harsh breeze to taper the tranquil temperature down to cold and the smell of the sea was fresh and welcoming.
Persephone had arranged to meet with Chrysanthe once more at the location of their first meeting. Considering it was easier to find a single spot upon which both were familiar than providing directions between one who did not know the land and another who was illiterate, the suggestion had been a natural one. After being assured of all the things a seamstress would need in order the learn her craft, Persephone had instructed her maids to collect the necessary items. In a woven basket that was attached to the back of her horse's saddle, there rested strips of cloth, winding spools of thread, a small and a sharp knife to cut things to size. Next to them nestled a small pile of simply written books that still held contents that Persephone thought Chrysanthe might enjoy. For there was no sense in attempting to learn to read something that the young girl found boring.
In the box that was set upon the back of her guardsman's saddle, there was nourishment for their lesson. Foods and wine and supplies that might be needed to ensure that they were comfortable, like blankets and cushions. Persephone had all that was required to make an outdoors classroom that the two ladies could sit down within and learn together, with the sea and horizon stretching out before them. Perhaps, such a view would be inspiring...
Persephone felt concern when she arrived at the edge of the cliffside to see the young girl already sitting upon the natural rocky bench that they had found the previous day. Worried that she was late and had caused the girl to wait on her, Persephone was careful yet quick in sliding down from the back of her steed and hurrying over with a more graceful step than her speed should have permitted, the swirls of her gown sweeping out in the breeze her movement created.
Dressed in a gown of bright yellow, the front of the dress secured at the centre of her collarbone in gold and then reaching up and around her neck, the young woman was looking more a queen than she had done in recent days. The golden bands around her upper arms gleamed as they caught the light and her hair, wound in a tight circular knot upon her hair, was equally shiny - like onyx tresses in the midday sun.
"Chrysanthe." Persephone greeted with a smile, reaching up to brush a hair away from her temple and anchoring it once more behind her ear. "I did not make you wait?"
The weather was one of the rare comfortable sort at this time of the year. In late summer, it was common for the heat in the air to dry the lungs and burn the skin; to turn the waters of the wells lukewarm and the grass brown and rigid. And yet, on this particular day, the sun was high and yet hidden behind cloud, offering light and brightness without the oppressive heat of a summer day shifting into fall. The air was calm, without a harsh breeze to taper the tranquil temperature down to cold and the smell of the sea was fresh and welcoming.
Persephone had arranged to meet with Chrysanthe once more at the location of their first meeting. Considering it was easier to find a single spot upon which both were familiar than providing directions between one who did not know the land and another who was illiterate, the suggestion had been a natural one. After being assured of all the things a seamstress would need in order the learn her craft, Persephone had instructed her maids to collect the necessary items. In a woven basket that was attached to the back of her horse's saddle, there rested strips of cloth, winding spools of thread, a small and a sharp knife to cut things to size. Next to them nestled a small pile of simply written books that still held contents that Persephone thought Chrysanthe might enjoy. For there was no sense in attempting to learn to read something that the young girl found boring.
In the box that was set upon the back of her guardsman's saddle, there was nourishment for their lesson. Foods and wine and supplies that might be needed to ensure that they were comfortable, like blankets and cushions. Persephone had all that was required to make an outdoors classroom that the two ladies could sit down within and learn together, with the sea and horizon stretching out before them. Perhaps, such a view would be inspiring...
Persephone felt concern when she arrived at the edge of the cliffside to see the young girl already sitting upon the natural rocky bench that they had found the previous day. Worried that she was late and had caused the girl to wait on her, Persephone was careful yet quick in sliding down from the back of her steed and hurrying over with a more graceful step than her speed should have permitted, the swirls of her gown sweeping out in the breeze her movement created.
Dressed in a gown of bright yellow, the front of the dress secured at the centre of her collarbone in gold and then reaching up and around her neck, the young woman was looking more a queen than she had done in recent days. The golden bands around her upper arms gleamed as they caught the light and her hair, wound in a tight circular knot upon her hair, was equally shiny - like onyx tresses in the midday sun.
"Chrysanthe." Persephone greeted with a smile, reaching up to brush a hair away from her temple and anchoring it once more behind her ear. "I did not make you wait?"
Chrysanthe was glad that she left early that morning for her meeting with Perse. She had only decided that she was not going to go, and turned back about four or five times. After all, who was she to be teaching this lady? What if she didn’t actually know what she was doing. Teaching children was one thing, but if she wasn’t a good teacher, they wouldn’t know better. Perse knew so much, surely she’d realize it if Chrysanthe did a bad job. What if she was angry that Chrysanthe wasn’t as good a teacher as she claimed to be?
On the other hand, what else was she going to do? She hadn’t had any luck at finding any other job in Meganea, at least not anything as promising as this job with Perse. Besides, this was the only one that offered her the ability to learn to read. That in and of itself was an enticing enough prospect to keep her from turning around even in the face of her fears. Besides, Perse had promised to bring all the necessary supplies. She wouldn’t want the noblewoman to have wasted her money. Besides, she could just imagine Perse disappointedly awaiting her arrival, and Chrysanthe wouldn’t want to bail on her with no possible explanation.
Not to mention, Chrysanthe had put a lot of effort into putting her best foot forward for the meeting with Perse. With some of her remaining money from the bracelets she had been given, she had bought some new linen fabric dyed in a slightly uneven pale yellow and quickly sewn herself a new chiton the night before. She made sure her hair was well brushed. Perse was a lady, and she was used to higher standards of presentation.
Even with all of her second-guessing, Chrysanthe made it to the meeting spot first, and she sat on the stone bench waiting. For a moment, Chrysanthe worried if she had gotten the time wrong, or maybe Perse had decided that she didn’t want to meet after all, and Chrysanthe had come all the way out here for nothing. Luckily, Chrysanthe didn’t have long to wait with those thoughts, as she spotted two horses coming towards her and quickly recognized them from the day before.
Chrysanthe couldn’t help but stare at the woman as she dismounted. She looked even more sophisticated than she had appeared the day before. Chrysanthe worried that her own attempts at beauty looked almost laughable in comparison. Still, she supposed she was here to teach, first and foremost. As Perse approached, Chrysanthe stood, excitedly. She was just glad that Perse had decided to show up. “No, not at all. I’ve only been here a few moments.” She looked over at the horses, obviously carrying the supplies she had asked for. “Did you need me to help you with your things?” Chrysanthe asked. It was a natural question, she was usually asked to help out with carrying things. Besides, a lady shouldn’t be carrying her own boxes.
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Chrysanthe was glad that she left early that morning for her meeting with Perse. She had only decided that she was not going to go, and turned back about four or five times. After all, who was she to be teaching this lady? What if she didn’t actually know what she was doing. Teaching children was one thing, but if she wasn’t a good teacher, they wouldn’t know better. Perse knew so much, surely she’d realize it if Chrysanthe did a bad job. What if she was angry that Chrysanthe wasn’t as good a teacher as she claimed to be?
On the other hand, what else was she going to do? She hadn’t had any luck at finding any other job in Meganea, at least not anything as promising as this job with Perse. Besides, this was the only one that offered her the ability to learn to read. That in and of itself was an enticing enough prospect to keep her from turning around even in the face of her fears. Besides, Perse had promised to bring all the necessary supplies. She wouldn’t want the noblewoman to have wasted her money. Besides, she could just imagine Perse disappointedly awaiting her arrival, and Chrysanthe wouldn’t want to bail on her with no possible explanation.
Not to mention, Chrysanthe had put a lot of effort into putting her best foot forward for the meeting with Perse. With some of her remaining money from the bracelets she had been given, she had bought some new linen fabric dyed in a slightly uneven pale yellow and quickly sewn herself a new chiton the night before. She made sure her hair was well brushed. Perse was a lady, and she was used to higher standards of presentation.
Even with all of her second-guessing, Chrysanthe made it to the meeting spot first, and she sat on the stone bench waiting. For a moment, Chrysanthe worried if she had gotten the time wrong, or maybe Perse had decided that she didn’t want to meet after all, and Chrysanthe had come all the way out here for nothing. Luckily, Chrysanthe didn’t have long to wait with those thoughts, as she spotted two horses coming towards her and quickly recognized them from the day before.
Chrysanthe couldn’t help but stare at the woman as she dismounted. She looked even more sophisticated than she had appeared the day before. Chrysanthe worried that her own attempts at beauty looked almost laughable in comparison. Still, she supposed she was here to teach, first and foremost. As Perse approached, Chrysanthe stood, excitedly. She was just glad that Perse had decided to show up. “No, not at all. I’ve only been here a few moments.” She looked over at the horses, obviously carrying the supplies she had asked for. “Did you need me to help you with your things?” Chrysanthe asked. It was a natural question, she was usually asked to help out with carrying things. Besides, a lady shouldn’t be carrying her own boxes.
Chrysanthe was glad that she left early that morning for her meeting with Perse. She had only decided that she was not going to go, and turned back about four or five times. After all, who was she to be teaching this lady? What if she didn’t actually know what she was doing. Teaching children was one thing, but if she wasn’t a good teacher, they wouldn’t know better. Perse knew so much, surely she’d realize it if Chrysanthe did a bad job. What if she was angry that Chrysanthe wasn’t as good a teacher as she claimed to be?
On the other hand, what else was she going to do? She hadn’t had any luck at finding any other job in Meganea, at least not anything as promising as this job with Perse. Besides, this was the only one that offered her the ability to learn to read. That in and of itself was an enticing enough prospect to keep her from turning around even in the face of her fears. Besides, Perse had promised to bring all the necessary supplies. She wouldn’t want the noblewoman to have wasted her money. Besides, she could just imagine Perse disappointedly awaiting her arrival, and Chrysanthe wouldn’t want to bail on her with no possible explanation.
Not to mention, Chrysanthe had put a lot of effort into putting her best foot forward for the meeting with Perse. With some of her remaining money from the bracelets she had been given, she had bought some new linen fabric dyed in a slightly uneven pale yellow and quickly sewn herself a new chiton the night before. She made sure her hair was well brushed. Perse was a lady, and she was used to higher standards of presentation.
Even with all of her second-guessing, Chrysanthe made it to the meeting spot first, and she sat on the stone bench waiting. For a moment, Chrysanthe worried if she had gotten the time wrong, or maybe Perse had decided that she didn’t want to meet after all, and Chrysanthe had come all the way out here for nothing. Luckily, Chrysanthe didn’t have long to wait with those thoughts, as she spotted two horses coming towards her and quickly recognized them from the day before.
Chrysanthe couldn’t help but stare at the woman as she dismounted. She looked even more sophisticated than she had appeared the day before. Chrysanthe worried that her own attempts at beauty looked almost laughable in comparison. Still, she supposed she was here to teach, first and foremost. As Perse approached, Chrysanthe stood, excitedly. She was just glad that Perse had decided to show up. “No, not at all. I’ve only been here a few moments.” She looked over at the horses, obviously carrying the supplies she had asked for. “Did you need me to help you with your things?” Chrysanthe asked. It was a natural question, she was usually asked to help out with carrying things. Besides, a lady shouldn’t be carrying her own boxes.
Persephone had been taught from her infant youth to present day to be highly conscious of people. To be aware of the tiniest minutiae in behaviour, speech and attitude. It was important when dealing with the Courts and the Senate to always be aware of exactly what a courtier was thinking rather than, necessarily, what came out of their mouths. Not to mention the relationship between the two and, if they did not match, to notice the tell-tale signs in their manner that might offer an explanation as to why. In short, she was well acquainted with people and analysing them down to the finest and most detailed facets of their carriage and person.
So, when the young Chrysanthe stood from the rock that provided a sort of seat and turned to greet her in a gown of bright colour and hair that looked carefully tended to that morning, she felt a spark of affection and protectiveness in her belly. For she was able to notice the difference in the girl now that she had had the time to prepare for whom it was that she was meeting. Even without the knowledge of exactly who Persephone was, she had known her to be of high class and adjusted herself in what she thought was an appropriate direction of beauty and appearance.
It was incredibly endearing.
When Chrysanthe stepped forwards, answering her question as she did so, Persephone smiled brightly and nodded in clear relief that she had not had the girl's patience tested with a long wait. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder at her guardsman who was currently collecting down the boxes that contained the tools of her lessons and considered the offer of help from the young woman.
"I think that my man can see to that." Persephone said with a soft smile of confidence in the guard's strength. "But there is a blanket in the top of that woven basket. Perhaps you would held in laying it upon the ground? Our feminine figures who turn to icy stone I fear if we have to sit upon that all day." Her hand gestured towards the rock and her eyes were kind as she recognised the need in the other woman to do something productive.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Persephone had been taught from her infant youth to present day to be highly conscious of people. To be aware of the tiniest minutiae in behaviour, speech and attitude. It was important when dealing with the Courts and the Senate to always be aware of exactly what a courtier was thinking rather than, necessarily, what came out of their mouths. Not to mention the relationship between the two and, if they did not match, to notice the tell-tale signs in their manner that might offer an explanation as to why. In short, she was well acquainted with people and analysing them down to the finest and most detailed facets of their carriage and person.
So, when the young Chrysanthe stood from the rock that provided a sort of seat and turned to greet her in a gown of bright colour and hair that looked carefully tended to that morning, she felt a spark of affection and protectiveness in her belly. For she was able to notice the difference in the girl now that she had had the time to prepare for whom it was that she was meeting. Even without the knowledge of exactly who Persephone was, she had known her to be of high class and adjusted herself in what she thought was an appropriate direction of beauty and appearance.
It was incredibly endearing.
When Chrysanthe stepped forwards, answering her question as she did so, Persephone smiled brightly and nodded in clear relief that she had not had the girl's patience tested with a long wait. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder at her guardsman who was currently collecting down the boxes that contained the tools of her lessons and considered the offer of help from the young woman.
"I think that my man can see to that." Persephone said with a soft smile of confidence in the guard's strength. "But there is a blanket in the top of that woven basket. Perhaps you would held in laying it upon the ground? Our feminine figures who turn to icy stone I fear if we have to sit upon that all day." Her hand gestured towards the rock and her eyes were kind as she recognised the need in the other woman to do something productive.
Persephone had been taught from her infant youth to present day to be highly conscious of people. To be aware of the tiniest minutiae in behaviour, speech and attitude. It was important when dealing with the Courts and the Senate to always be aware of exactly what a courtier was thinking rather than, necessarily, what came out of their mouths. Not to mention the relationship between the two and, if they did not match, to notice the tell-tale signs in their manner that might offer an explanation as to why. In short, she was well acquainted with people and analysing them down to the finest and most detailed facets of their carriage and person.
So, when the young Chrysanthe stood from the rock that provided a sort of seat and turned to greet her in a gown of bright colour and hair that looked carefully tended to that morning, she felt a spark of affection and protectiveness in her belly. For she was able to notice the difference in the girl now that she had had the time to prepare for whom it was that she was meeting. Even without the knowledge of exactly who Persephone was, she had known her to be of high class and adjusted herself in what she thought was an appropriate direction of beauty and appearance.
It was incredibly endearing.
When Chrysanthe stepped forwards, answering her question as she did so, Persephone smiled brightly and nodded in clear relief that she had not had the girl's patience tested with a long wait. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder at her guardsman who was currently collecting down the boxes that contained the tools of her lessons and considered the offer of help from the young woman.
"I think that my man can see to that." Persephone said with a soft smile of confidence in the guard's strength. "But there is a blanket in the top of that woven basket. Perhaps you would held in laying it upon the ground? Our feminine figures who turn to icy stone I fear if we have to sit upon that all day." Her hand gestured towards the rock and her eyes were kind as she recognised the need in the other woman to do something productive.
Chrysanthe couldn’t help but wonder if this whole situation was real. To have gained the attention of this lady who had already been so kind to her. She was almost amazed that the woman had taken time out of her day to meet with someone as insignificant as her. Even if she did know some skills that this lady wanted to know, surely she had the coin to hire someone more skilled than her. But at the moment, this was her only opportunity for employment of any sort. The jobs she had heard of in the area wanted larger, stronger men and boys, not a woman who had spent her days watching children.
Chrysanthe quickly scrambled for the blanket at Perse’s request, her instinct to follow a command as quickly as possible. Then she slowed realizing that she must look silly to this woman. She had never seen a noble lady move with anything other than grace and poise. Would Perse think her silly for her hurry? They did have all afternoon after all. She retrieved the blanket from on top of the basket and walked back, attempting a bit more elegance in her movement on the way back. She was certain that she must look absolutely ridiculous putting on airs like this, but it was too late to correct it without looking even more silly.
Chrysanthe laid out the blanket on the ground, as Persephone’s man brought the box and basket and set out some of the cushions from the box for them to sit on. Unaware of any etiquette concerns, Chrysanthe sat down straight on the blanket. She didn’t want to ruin one of the nice cushions by sitting on them. Chrysanthe figured it was best to jump right into the lessons. That’s what she was here for. “So I thought we could start with some basic stitches. That is, if you don’t already know them. Perhaps you should tell me what you already know first?” Chrysanthe didn’t quite know where to begin with this woman. With children, you always knew that they started with nothing, but she didn’t want to assume with Perse, especially since people always seemed to be offended when you assumed they didn’t know things.
Chrysanthe changed topics slightly, trying to hide her own floundering at the task of teaching. “Did you bring the thread and fabric that I mentioned?” Chrysanthe asked. She was certain she’d be able to think much clearer if she had something in front of her that she could use to demonstrate.
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Chrysanthe couldn’t help but wonder if this whole situation was real. To have gained the attention of this lady who had already been so kind to her. She was almost amazed that the woman had taken time out of her day to meet with someone as insignificant as her. Even if she did know some skills that this lady wanted to know, surely she had the coin to hire someone more skilled than her. But at the moment, this was her only opportunity for employment of any sort. The jobs she had heard of in the area wanted larger, stronger men and boys, not a woman who had spent her days watching children.
Chrysanthe quickly scrambled for the blanket at Perse’s request, her instinct to follow a command as quickly as possible. Then she slowed realizing that she must look silly to this woman. She had never seen a noble lady move with anything other than grace and poise. Would Perse think her silly for her hurry? They did have all afternoon after all. She retrieved the blanket from on top of the basket and walked back, attempting a bit more elegance in her movement on the way back. She was certain that she must look absolutely ridiculous putting on airs like this, but it was too late to correct it without looking even more silly.
Chrysanthe laid out the blanket on the ground, as Persephone’s man brought the box and basket and set out some of the cushions from the box for them to sit on. Unaware of any etiquette concerns, Chrysanthe sat down straight on the blanket. She didn’t want to ruin one of the nice cushions by sitting on them. Chrysanthe figured it was best to jump right into the lessons. That’s what she was here for. “So I thought we could start with some basic stitches. That is, if you don’t already know them. Perhaps you should tell me what you already know first?” Chrysanthe didn’t quite know where to begin with this woman. With children, you always knew that they started with nothing, but she didn’t want to assume with Perse, especially since people always seemed to be offended when you assumed they didn’t know things.
Chrysanthe changed topics slightly, trying to hide her own floundering at the task of teaching. “Did you bring the thread and fabric that I mentioned?” Chrysanthe asked. She was certain she’d be able to think much clearer if she had something in front of her that she could use to demonstrate.
Chrysanthe couldn’t help but wonder if this whole situation was real. To have gained the attention of this lady who had already been so kind to her. She was almost amazed that the woman had taken time out of her day to meet with someone as insignificant as her. Even if she did know some skills that this lady wanted to know, surely she had the coin to hire someone more skilled than her. But at the moment, this was her only opportunity for employment of any sort. The jobs she had heard of in the area wanted larger, stronger men and boys, not a woman who had spent her days watching children.
Chrysanthe quickly scrambled for the blanket at Perse’s request, her instinct to follow a command as quickly as possible. Then she slowed realizing that she must look silly to this woman. She had never seen a noble lady move with anything other than grace and poise. Would Perse think her silly for her hurry? They did have all afternoon after all. She retrieved the blanket from on top of the basket and walked back, attempting a bit more elegance in her movement on the way back. She was certain that she must look absolutely ridiculous putting on airs like this, but it was too late to correct it without looking even more silly.
Chrysanthe laid out the blanket on the ground, as Persephone’s man brought the box and basket and set out some of the cushions from the box for them to sit on. Unaware of any etiquette concerns, Chrysanthe sat down straight on the blanket. She didn’t want to ruin one of the nice cushions by sitting on them. Chrysanthe figured it was best to jump right into the lessons. That’s what she was here for. “So I thought we could start with some basic stitches. That is, if you don’t already know them. Perhaps you should tell me what you already know first?” Chrysanthe didn’t quite know where to begin with this woman. With children, you always knew that they started with nothing, but she didn’t want to assume with Perse, especially since people always seemed to be offended when you assumed they didn’t know things.
Chrysanthe changed topics slightly, trying to hide her own floundering at the task of teaching. “Did you bring the thread and fabric that I mentioned?” Chrysanthe asked. She was certain she’d be able to think much clearer if she had something in front of her that she could use to demonstrate.
Persephone did notice Chrysanthe's slight inelegance in the awkwardness of how she walked and held herself. But she saw it with different eyes than the girl herself. Where Chrysanthe was internally worrying that she looked silly, Persephone's gaze was watching with an air of effort and potential. Chrysanthe moved awkwardly because she was attempting to over-straighten her spine. She was thrusting her chest forwards a little too much and it was sending her off balance. But the movement of her legs was actually quite graceful - probably due to having strong muscles in them - and her efforts were not lost on the princess. Not willing to embarrass the girl over something that Persephone actually thought to be a credit to her character, she said nothing of it and simply placed a foot upon the corner of the blanket as the young girl laid it out upon the grass, to ensure that it straightened as Chrysanthe pulled.
Once the young girl was seated and the baskets deposited upon the corners of the open fabric, Persephone elegantly lowered herself into a puddle of her own skirts and sat with straight poise and exactly the correct angle of her chin and neck.
When the young Chrysanthe suggested starting their lesson with some basic stitches, Persephone watched with careful attention, as she would any tutor in their craft. She then nodded with understanding and acceptance over the idea. It made perfect sense to her that they would start from the basics and move onwards from there. The girl had plenty of common sense, it seemed.
"Nothing at all." She assured the girl softly and with a smile of self-deprecation when Chrysanthe asked her what she knew already. "Consider me a newborn without a drop of knowledge in my head." She suggested.
Persephone was far from ignorant, or stupid. She was highly intelligent and knew a great many things. Including how to rule a country and the dining etiquette and customs of every known kingdom in the world. She was an encyclopedia of information regarding power, politics and legality. What she coiuld not do, was tell you how to sew the most basic of stitches.
When Chrysanthe mentioned the fabric that she had suggestion she bring, Persephone nodded simply and reached to the appropriate basket for just such things. She brought them out quickly and without fuss, offering Chrysanthe some of the fabric strips as well as a thread reel and needle. She then kept one of each of the same for herself and let them lie in the curving dip of her skirts that marked the gap caused by thighs held together upon the ground. She then waited her hands still as she watched for the young girl to guide her.
"I am yours to instruct, Madam Chrysanthe." She stated with a softness that was light and warm with friendship and fun.
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Persephone did notice Chrysanthe's slight inelegance in the awkwardness of how she walked and held herself. But she saw it with different eyes than the girl herself. Where Chrysanthe was internally worrying that she looked silly, Persephone's gaze was watching with an air of effort and potential. Chrysanthe moved awkwardly because she was attempting to over-straighten her spine. She was thrusting her chest forwards a little too much and it was sending her off balance. But the movement of her legs was actually quite graceful - probably due to having strong muscles in them - and her efforts were not lost on the princess. Not willing to embarrass the girl over something that Persephone actually thought to be a credit to her character, she said nothing of it and simply placed a foot upon the corner of the blanket as the young girl laid it out upon the grass, to ensure that it straightened as Chrysanthe pulled.
Once the young girl was seated and the baskets deposited upon the corners of the open fabric, Persephone elegantly lowered herself into a puddle of her own skirts and sat with straight poise and exactly the correct angle of her chin and neck.
When the young Chrysanthe suggested starting their lesson with some basic stitches, Persephone watched with careful attention, as she would any tutor in their craft. She then nodded with understanding and acceptance over the idea. It made perfect sense to her that they would start from the basics and move onwards from there. The girl had plenty of common sense, it seemed.
"Nothing at all." She assured the girl softly and with a smile of self-deprecation when Chrysanthe asked her what she knew already. "Consider me a newborn without a drop of knowledge in my head." She suggested.
Persephone was far from ignorant, or stupid. She was highly intelligent and knew a great many things. Including how to rule a country and the dining etiquette and customs of every known kingdom in the world. She was an encyclopedia of information regarding power, politics and legality. What she coiuld not do, was tell you how to sew the most basic of stitches.
When Chrysanthe mentioned the fabric that she had suggestion she bring, Persephone nodded simply and reached to the appropriate basket for just such things. She brought them out quickly and without fuss, offering Chrysanthe some of the fabric strips as well as a thread reel and needle. She then kept one of each of the same for herself and let them lie in the curving dip of her skirts that marked the gap caused by thighs held together upon the ground. She then waited her hands still as she watched for the young girl to guide her.
"I am yours to instruct, Madam Chrysanthe." She stated with a softness that was light and warm with friendship and fun.
Persephone did notice Chrysanthe's slight inelegance in the awkwardness of how she walked and held herself. But she saw it with different eyes than the girl herself. Where Chrysanthe was internally worrying that she looked silly, Persephone's gaze was watching with an air of effort and potential. Chrysanthe moved awkwardly because she was attempting to over-straighten her spine. She was thrusting her chest forwards a little too much and it was sending her off balance. But the movement of her legs was actually quite graceful - probably due to having strong muscles in them - and her efforts were not lost on the princess. Not willing to embarrass the girl over something that Persephone actually thought to be a credit to her character, she said nothing of it and simply placed a foot upon the corner of the blanket as the young girl laid it out upon the grass, to ensure that it straightened as Chrysanthe pulled.
Once the young girl was seated and the baskets deposited upon the corners of the open fabric, Persephone elegantly lowered herself into a puddle of her own skirts and sat with straight poise and exactly the correct angle of her chin and neck.
When the young Chrysanthe suggested starting their lesson with some basic stitches, Persephone watched with careful attention, as she would any tutor in their craft. She then nodded with understanding and acceptance over the idea. It made perfect sense to her that they would start from the basics and move onwards from there. The girl had plenty of common sense, it seemed.
"Nothing at all." She assured the girl softly and with a smile of self-deprecation when Chrysanthe asked her what she knew already. "Consider me a newborn without a drop of knowledge in my head." She suggested.
Persephone was far from ignorant, or stupid. She was highly intelligent and knew a great many things. Including how to rule a country and the dining etiquette and customs of every known kingdom in the world. She was an encyclopedia of information regarding power, politics and legality. What she coiuld not do, was tell you how to sew the most basic of stitches.
When Chrysanthe mentioned the fabric that she had suggestion she bring, Persephone nodded simply and reached to the appropriate basket for just such things. She brought them out quickly and without fuss, offering Chrysanthe some of the fabric strips as well as a thread reel and needle. She then kept one of each of the same for herself and let them lie in the curving dip of her skirts that marked the gap caused by thighs held together upon the ground. She then waited her hands still as she watched for the young girl to guide her.
"I am yours to instruct, Madam Chrysanthe." She stated with a softness that was light and warm with friendship and fun.
Chrysanthe smiled at Perse as she took the thread, needle, and fabric and began to arrange them on her lap so that they might get started. Chrysanthe blushed a bit as Perse called her madam. She wasn’t anyone so fancy to have ever had need of such a title, and honestly, she was a bit uncomfortable. “Oh, just Chrysanthe will do, my lady.” Chrysanthe corrected her “I’ve never been one for fancy titles.”
Chrysanthe quickly pushed the conversation topic on, not wanting to dwell too long on titles or their relative positions in life. She was here to teach Perse, and she’d been told to just assume she didn’t know much about the subject. This was a subject on which Chrysanthe was much more comfortable. She held up the needle and demonstrated to Perse how to thread it. “So first you’ll want to thread the needle, if you’re finding it hard to get the thread through the hole, you can twist the end a little bit to make sure all the fibers are staying together.”
Once the needle was threaded, Chrysanthe pulled out a small piece of fabric and folded it in half. “The most important thing you’ll want to be able to do is sew two pieces of fabric together. That’s pretty much the basis of any sewing.” Chrysanthe stitched a short row of stitches, holding the fabric where Perse could see her work. She then sat up and tugged on the fabric to demonstrate the sturdiness of the seam.
“Now you try. You want to keep the stitches small and close together. And try to keep the line straight.” Chrysanthe led Persephone slowly through the steps of sewing a simple seam, watching and adding pointers as she went. Chrysanthe then gently walked Perse through a few more basic stitches. They were prettier than the simple stitch she taught at first, but still could be used to hold fabric together.
“These stitches are best to use on hems and sleeves. Somewhere where the details will be noticed, otherwise, they usually aren’t worth putting in all the effort to do something different.” Chrysanthe quickly demonstrated a sample hemline to show what she meant by that. “You can also use some of the fancier stitches to decorate things. A few flowers on a handkerchief can make it much prettier.” Then Chrysanthe paused realizing how silly the thought was of a noblewoman embroidering her own handkerchieves. “Though I’m sure you can buy them already embroidered most likely.”
The thought made her set down her sewing for a moment. “Why are you so interested in learning all this anyway? Surely you could just get someone to do it for you?” Not that she particularly wanted Perse to decide she didn’t need these lessons. But maybe she’d just prefer to hire Chrysanthe to do these tasks for her?
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Chrysanthe smiled at Perse as she took the thread, needle, and fabric and began to arrange them on her lap so that they might get started. Chrysanthe blushed a bit as Perse called her madam. She wasn’t anyone so fancy to have ever had need of such a title, and honestly, she was a bit uncomfortable. “Oh, just Chrysanthe will do, my lady.” Chrysanthe corrected her “I’ve never been one for fancy titles.”
Chrysanthe quickly pushed the conversation topic on, not wanting to dwell too long on titles or their relative positions in life. She was here to teach Perse, and she’d been told to just assume she didn’t know much about the subject. This was a subject on which Chrysanthe was much more comfortable. She held up the needle and demonstrated to Perse how to thread it. “So first you’ll want to thread the needle, if you’re finding it hard to get the thread through the hole, you can twist the end a little bit to make sure all the fibers are staying together.”
Once the needle was threaded, Chrysanthe pulled out a small piece of fabric and folded it in half. “The most important thing you’ll want to be able to do is sew two pieces of fabric together. That’s pretty much the basis of any sewing.” Chrysanthe stitched a short row of stitches, holding the fabric where Perse could see her work. She then sat up and tugged on the fabric to demonstrate the sturdiness of the seam.
“Now you try. You want to keep the stitches small and close together. And try to keep the line straight.” Chrysanthe led Persephone slowly through the steps of sewing a simple seam, watching and adding pointers as she went. Chrysanthe then gently walked Perse through a few more basic stitches. They were prettier than the simple stitch she taught at first, but still could be used to hold fabric together.
“These stitches are best to use on hems and sleeves. Somewhere where the details will be noticed, otherwise, they usually aren’t worth putting in all the effort to do something different.” Chrysanthe quickly demonstrated a sample hemline to show what she meant by that. “You can also use some of the fancier stitches to decorate things. A few flowers on a handkerchief can make it much prettier.” Then Chrysanthe paused realizing how silly the thought was of a noblewoman embroidering her own handkerchieves. “Though I’m sure you can buy them already embroidered most likely.”
The thought made her set down her sewing for a moment. “Why are you so interested in learning all this anyway? Surely you could just get someone to do it for you?” Not that she particularly wanted Perse to decide she didn’t need these lessons. But maybe she’d just prefer to hire Chrysanthe to do these tasks for her?
Chrysanthe smiled at Perse as she took the thread, needle, and fabric and began to arrange them on her lap so that they might get started. Chrysanthe blushed a bit as Perse called her madam. She wasn’t anyone so fancy to have ever had need of such a title, and honestly, she was a bit uncomfortable. “Oh, just Chrysanthe will do, my lady.” Chrysanthe corrected her “I’ve never been one for fancy titles.”
Chrysanthe quickly pushed the conversation topic on, not wanting to dwell too long on titles or their relative positions in life. She was here to teach Perse, and she’d been told to just assume she didn’t know much about the subject. This was a subject on which Chrysanthe was much more comfortable. She held up the needle and demonstrated to Perse how to thread it. “So first you’ll want to thread the needle, if you’re finding it hard to get the thread through the hole, you can twist the end a little bit to make sure all the fibers are staying together.”
Once the needle was threaded, Chrysanthe pulled out a small piece of fabric and folded it in half. “The most important thing you’ll want to be able to do is sew two pieces of fabric together. That’s pretty much the basis of any sewing.” Chrysanthe stitched a short row of stitches, holding the fabric where Perse could see her work. She then sat up and tugged on the fabric to demonstrate the sturdiness of the seam.
“Now you try. You want to keep the stitches small and close together. And try to keep the line straight.” Chrysanthe led Persephone slowly through the steps of sewing a simple seam, watching and adding pointers as she went. Chrysanthe then gently walked Perse through a few more basic stitches. They were prettier than the simple stitch she taught at first, but still could be used to hold fabric together.
“These stitches are best to use on hems and sleeves. Somewhere where the details will be noticed, otherwise, they usually aren’t worth putting in all the effort to do something different.” Chrysanthe quickly demonstrated a sample hemline to show what she meant by that. “You can also use some of the fancier stitches to decorate things. A few flowers on a handkerchief can make it much prettier.” Then Chrysanthe paused realizing how silly the thought was of a noblewoman embroidering her own handkerchieves. “Though I’m sure you can buy them already embroidered most likely.”
The thought made her set down her sewing for a moment. “Why are you so interested in learning all this anyway? Surely you could just get someone to do it for you?” Not that she particularly wanted Perse to decide she didn’t need these lessons. But maybe she’d just prefer to hire Chrysanthe to do these tasks for her?
Persephone might not know anything about stitching or sewing, but she did know how to learn. A good student and able to listen, Persephone had that rare ability of putting aside all ego and issue with authority in order to bend to the superior knowledge of others. It was no dishonour or insult to her to accept that someone else knew better than her and to take them at their offer of help and teachings. Chrysanthe, for example, was far below her in terms of social standing. This was clear in her manner of dress, how she spoke and the way in which she held herself. Persephone would have known it even before the two of them had engaged in conversation. But, in this particularly situation, in which Persephone knew nothing and she held experience, Chrysanthe was the teacher. She was the one who deserved the respect. And it was that permission and allowance of breaking with class systems that made Persephone a good student.
As such, she followed along with Chrysanthe well enough. When she was shown how to thread the needle, Persephone worked to secure the piece through the little hole at the end of the implement. As the needle was made of fine bone and thick throughout, it was easy enough to spy the hole and, after a few tries, place the thread through its eye. Persephone was fairly dexterous and through her learnings in writing and social gesticulations, she was good with her hands. At least when it came to fine arts and careful handling. Manual labour was hardly something she could even half-way hope to achieve.
Having successfully threaded the needle, Persephone was then able to follow Chrysanthe's instructions and make her first attempt at sewing. She was careful to watch what Chrysanthe was doing before she attempted anything herself, watching the other girl's hands in their repetition of strokes, trying to memories the pattern of her fingers and hands. She then turned to her own piece of cloth and began to work it. She paused at each step, checking the next movement that Chrysanthe was modelling, before continuing. She managed three stitches and only lost the thread from the needle once. Each of her stitches were a little different in length but they were all at least pointing the same way and forming a straight line.
With a soft smile of achievement, Persephone continued to work, listening to Chrysanthe's instructions and only stabbing herself in the finger thrice. Each time, she winced a little but said nothing. Even on the second time when she had accidentally drawn blood, she only sucked the tip of her finger when Chrysanthe wasn't looking and continued about her efforts.
When Chrysanthe introduced a different form of stitch, explaining the circumstances in which it might be used and how it was prettier than the standard rows that they had already been working on, Persephone was able to understand the points made in the recalling of her own garments. Whilst she was no seamstress and had never tended to the mending of her own clothes, there had been times when her attention had been caught by the sleeves of her gowns during a boring senatorial meet or she had fiddled with the cloth as she made ready for bed. The examples that Chrysanthe was using to explain the craft to her were all kept safely in the chest of her personal belongings back at the Dimitrou estate. With this knowledge, Persephone was able to nod with confidence and begin her first attempt at one of the more complex designs.
They were still basic in the eyes of an expert such as Chrysanthe, but they took all of Persephone's attention for a few minutes. She glanced up momentarily when Chrysanthe asked her of why she even wanted lessons in sewing, but she was careful not to answer until her needle was poked through the fabric in the right place, so that she wouldn't lose where she had been working when she returned her focus.
Letting the strip of fabric sit between her fingers, docile in her lap, Persephone smiled softly at the young girl that she was rapidly growing to be fond of. Her simple innocence and curiosity were a breath of fresh air to a woman who had spent all of her life so far amongst people that had to dissect every word spoken or read the multiple layers of communication that they hid beneath tone and flattery.
"I..." Persephone considered how to explain her situation without scaring the young girl that she was currently sitting on a blanket, in the grass, with a royal monarch. "I was born to a wealthy family of status." She admitted, trying to keep her words truthful. "But I am due to marry a man that, by societies standards is of a lower rank than I." He was still noble, wealthy and held royal blood to boot but Chrysanthe didn't need to know that it. It wasn't important to her reasons for wanting to learn to sew. "And I am only now realising that my... high class skills will be of little use to him." Persephone dropped her gaze, several locks of her long hair falling down the sides of her face. The soft smile on her lips was self-conscious. "I did not want to be of no use to my future husband."
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Persephone might not know anything about stitching or sewing, but she did know how to learn. A good student and able to listen, Persephone had that rare ability of putting aside all ego and issue with authority in order to bend to the superior knowledge of others. It was no dishonour or insult to her to accept that someone else knew better than her and to take them at their offer of help and teachings. Chrysanthe, for example, was far below her in terms of social standing. This was clear in her manner of dress, how she spoke and the way in which she held herself. Persephone would have known it even before the two of them had engaged in conversation. But, in this particularly situation, in which Persephone knew nothing and she held experience, Chrysanthe was the teacher. She was the one who deserved the respect. And it was that permission and allowance of breaking with class systems that made Persephone a good student.
As such, she followed along with Chrysanthe well enough. When she was shown how to thread the needle, Persephone worked to secure the piece through the little hole at the end of the implement. As the needle was made of fine bone and thick throughout, it was easy enough to spy the hole and, after a few tries, place the thread through its eye. Persephone was fairly dexterous and through her learnings in writing and social gesticulations, she was good with her hands. At least when it came to fine arts and careful handling. Manual labour was hardly something she could even half-way hope to achieve.
Having successfully threaded the needle, Persephone was then able to follow Chrysanthe's instructions and make her first attempt at sewing. She was careful to watch what Chrysanthe was doing before she attempted anything herself, watching the other girl's hands in their repetition of strokes, trying to memories the pattern of her fingers and hands. She then turned to her own piece of cloth and began to work it. She paused at each step, checking the next movement that Chrysanthe was modelling, before continuing. She managed three stitches and only lost the thread from the needle once. Each of her stitches were a little different in length but they were all at least pointing the same way and forming a straight line.
With a soft smile of achievement, Persephone continued to work, listening to Chrysanthe's instructions and only stabbing herself in the finger thrice. Each time, she winced a little but said nothing. Even on the second time when she had accidentally drawn blood, she only sucked the tip of her finger when Chrysanthe wasn't looking and continued about her efforts.
When Chrysanthe introduced a different form of stitch, explaining the circumstances in which it might be used and how it was prettier than the standard rows that they had already been working on, Persephone was able to understand the points made in the recalling of her own garments. Whilst she was no seamstress and had never tended to the mending of her own clothes, there had been times when her attention had been caught by the sleeves of her gowns during a boring senatorial meet or she had fiddled with the cloth as she made ready for bed. The examples that Chrysanthe was using to explain the craft to her were all kept safely in the chest of her personal belongings back at the Dimitrou estate. With this knowledge, Persephone was able to nod with confidence and begin her first attempt at one of the more complex designs.
They were still basic in the eyes of an expert such as Chrysanthe, but they took all of Persephone's attention for a few minutes. She glanced up momentarily when Chrysanthe asked her of why she even wanted lessons in sewing, but she was careful not to answer until her needle was poked through the fabric in the right place, so that she wouldn't lose where she had been working when she returned her focus.
Letting the strip of fabric sit between her fingers, docile in her lap, Persephone smiled softly at the young girl that she was rapidly growing to be fond of. Her simple innocence and curiosity were a breath of fresh air to a woman who had spent all of her life so far amongst people that had to dissect every word spoken or read the multiple layers of communication that they hid beneath tone and flattery.
"I..." Persephone considered how to explain her situation without scaring the young girl that she was currently sitting on a blanket, in the grass, with a royal monarch. "I was born to a wealthy family of status." She admitted, trying to keep her words truthful. "But I am due to marry a man that, by societies standards is of a lower rank than I." He was still noble, wealthy and held royal blood to boot but Chrysanthe didn't need to know that it. It wasn't important to her reasons for wanting to learn to sew. "And I am only now realising that my... high class skills will be of little use to him." Persephone dropped her gaze, several locks of her long hair falling down the sides of her face. The soft smile on her lips was self-conscious. "I did not want to be of no use to my future husband."
Persephone might not know anything about stitching or sewing, but she did know how to learn. A good student and able to listen, Persephone had that rare ability of putting aside all ego and issue with authority in order to bend to the superior knowledge of others. It was no dishonour or insult to her to accept that someone else knew better than her and to take them at their offer of help and teachings. Chrysanthe, for example, was far below her in terms of social standing. This was clear in her manner of dress, how she spoke and the way in which she held herself. Persephone would have known it even before the two of them had engaged in conversation. But, in this particularly situation, in which Persephone knew nothing and she held experience, Chrysanthe was the teacher. She was the one who deserved the respect. And it was that permission and allowance of breaking with class systems that made Persephone a good student.
As such, she followed along with Chrysanthe well enough. When she was shown how to thread the needle, Persephone worked to secure the piece through the little hole at the end of the implement. As the needle was made of fine bone and thick throughout, it was easy enough to spy the hole and, after a few tries, place the thread through its eye. Persephone was fairly dexterous and through her learnings in writing and social gesticulations, she was good with her hands. At least when it came to fine arts and careful handling. Manual labour was hardly something she could even half-way hope to achieve.
Having successfully threaded the needle, Persephone was then able to follow Chrysanthe's instructions and make her first attempt at sewing. She was careful to watch what Chrysanthe was doing before she attempted anything herself, watching the other girl's hands in their repetition of strokes, trying to memories the pattern of her fingers and hands. She then turned to her own piece of cloth and began to work it. She paused at each step, checking the next movement that Chrysanthe was modelling, before continuing. She managed three stitches and only lost the thread from the needle once. Each of her stitches were a little different in length but they were all at least pointing the same way and forming a straight line.
With a soft smile of achievement, Persephone continued to work, listening to Chrysanthe's instructions and only stabbing herself in the finger thrice. Each time, she winced a little but said nothing. Even on the second time when she had accidentally drawn blood, she only sucked the tip of her finger when Chrysanthe wasn't looking and continued about her efforts.
When Chrysanthe introduced a different form of stitch, explaining the circumstances in which it might be used and how it was prettier than the standard rows that they had already been working on, Persephone was able to understand the points made in the recalling of her own garments. Whilst she was no seamstress and had never tended to the mending of her own clothes, there had been times when her attention had been caught by the sleeves of her gowns during a boring senatorial meet or she had fiddled with the cloth as she made ready for bed. The examples that Chrysanthe was using to explain the craft to her were all kept safely in the chest of her personal belongings back at the Dimitrou estate. With this knowledge, Persephone was able to nod with confidence and begin her first attempt at one of the more complex designs.
They were still basic in the eyes of an expert such as Chrysanthe, but they took all of Persephone's attention for a few minutes. She glanced up momentarily when Chrysanthe asked her of why she even wanted lessons in sewing, but she was careful not to answer until her needle was poked through the fabric in the right place, so that she wouldn't lose where she had been working when she returned her focus.
Letting the strip of fabric sit between her fingers, docile in her lap, Persephone smiled softly at the young girl that she was rapidly growing to be fond of. Her simple innocence and curiosity were a breath of fresh air to a woman who had spent all of her life so far amongst people that had to dissect every word spoken or read the multiple layers of communication that they hid beneath tone and flattery.
"I..." Persephone considered how to explain her situation without scaring the young girl that she was currently sitting on a blanket, in the grass, with a royal monarch. "I was born to a wealthy family of status." She admitted, trying to keep her words truthful. "But I am due to marry a man that, by societies standards is of a lower rank than I." He was still noble, wealthy and held royal blood to boot but Chrysanthe didn't need to know that it. It wasn't important to her reasons for wanting to learn to sew. "And I am only now realising that my... high class skills will be of little use to him." Persephone dropped her gaze, several locks of her long hair falling down the sides of her face. The soft smile on her lips was self-conscious. "I did not want to be of no use to my future husband."
It was somewhat of a relief that Persephone took to learning how to sew so easily. When she had previously attempted to teach adults, she had often found them defensive of the fact that someone younger than them might hold more expertise. Persephone was nothing if not a gracious student. Chrysanthe watched on as Persephone followed her instructions on how to perform the stitches. “Those look really nice, just make sure you keep them the same size. See how they are getting bigger near the end?” While her tone was that of a person more used to working with children, Chrysanthe’s praise was genuine, and that perhaps saved her from sounding too patronizing with her encouragement and correction.
Persephone sucking on her finger made Chrysanthe jump to her aid. “Here let me get you…” Chrysanthe looked around her for a thimble. At home, she had always had one to hand when she was sewing, but here, she had none of her own things and she quickly realized she didn’t have one to hand.
“You don’t happen to have a thimble in your supplies?” Chrysanthe couldn’t remember if she had asked Persephone to bring one. “You can use it to protect your finger, at least until you’re more sure that you won’t stab your finger. Usually, they’re used to protect the finger pushing the needle, but they can have other uses.”
As they returned to the task of learning new stitches, Chrysanthe was happy to see Persephone take as quickly to that stitch as the first one. It was a bit more tricky than the first, leaving a secure seam with a protected edge that could also add a layer of interest to a visible hem.
Chrysanthe waited patiently for the woman to answer her question. It was a weird thing she had noticed about the upper classes, they often seemed to spend a lot of time picking their words before speaking. Chrysanthe thought that sounded a bit exhausting, or perhaps they just had a greater level of the virtue of patience than she could hope to achieve as just a simple woman of no background. The mention of a future husband caused her to light up. “You are engaged then? That’s so wonderful! When are you to be married?” In Chrysanthe’s world, any marriage was a step up. It was always a cause for celebration that there was a man willing to tie themselves to a woman of no name, money, or title. The idea of marrying down was an unfamiliar one, and it didn’t entirely occur to her the implications of tying oneself to a man of a lower status.
How one could fall in station, that was something Chrysanthe could understand. This woman, however, had the opportunity to prepare for this change unlike she had had. How high had she been if this was what it looked like to have lost rank? Perhaps there was something she was missing. From where she was, all nobles appeared to be at some equally unattainable level, but she supposed there must be differences between them.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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It was somewhat of a relief that Persephone took to learning how to sew so easily. When she had previously attempted to teach adults, she had often found them defensive of the fact that someone younger than them might hold more expertise. Persephone was nothing if not a gracious student. Chrysanthe watched on as Persephone followed her instructions on how to perform the stitches. “Those look really nice, just make sure you keep them the same size. See how they are getting bigger near the end?” While her tone was that of a person more used to working with children, Chrysanthe’s praise was genuine, and that perhaps saved her from sounding too patronizing with her encouragement and correction.
Persephone sucking on her finger made Chrysanthe jump to her aid. “Here let me get you…” Chrysanthe looked around her for a thimble. At home, she had always had one to hand when she was sewing, but here, she had none of her own things and she quickly realized she didn’t have one to hand.
“You don’t happen to have a thimble in your supplies?” Chrysanthe couldn’t remember if she had asked Persephone to bring one. “You can use it to protect your finger, at least until you’re more sure that you won’t stab your finger. Usually, they’re used to protect the finger pushing the needle, but they can have other uses.”
As they returned to the task of learning new stitches, Chrysanthe was happy to see Persephone take as quickly to that stitch as the first one. It was a bit more tricky than the first, leaving a secure seam with a protected edge that could also add a layer of interest to a visible hem.
Chrysanthe waited patiently for the woman to answer her question. It was a weird thing she had noticed about the upper classes, they often seemed to spend a lot of time picking their words before speaking. Chrysanthe thought that sounded a bit exhausting, or perhaps they just had a greater level of the virtue of patience than she could hope to achieve as just a simple woman of no background. The mention of a future husband caused her to light up. “You are engaged then? That’s so wonderful! When are you to be married?” In Chrysanthe’s world, any marriage was a step up. It was always a cause for celebration that there was a man willing to tie themselves to a woman of no name, money, or title. The idea of marrying down was an unfamiliar one, and it didn’t entirely occur to her the implications of tying oneself to a man of a lower status.
How one could fall in station, that was something Chrysanthe could understand. This woman, however, had the opportunity to prepare for this change unlike she had had. How high had she been if this was what it looked like to have lost rank? Perhaps there was something she was missing. From where she was, all nobles appeared to be at some equally unattainable level, but she supposed there must be differences between them.
It was somewhat of a relief that Persephone took to learning how to sew so easily. When she had previously attempted to teach adults, she had often found them defensive of the fact that someone younger than them might hold more expertise. Persephone was nothing if not a gracious student. Chrysanthe watched on as Persephone followed her instructions on how to perform the stitches. “Those look really nice, just make sure you keep them the same size. See how they are getting bigger near the end?” While her tone was that of a person more used to working with children, Chrysanthe’s praise was genuine, and that perhaps saved her from sounding too patronizing with her encouragement and correction.
Persephone sucking on her finger made Chrysanthe jump to her aid. “Here let me get you…” Chrysanthe looked around her for a thimble. At home, she had always had one to hand when she was sewing, but here, she had none of her own things and she quickly realized she didn’t have one to hand.
“You don’t happen to have a thimble in your supplies?” Chrysanthe couldn’t remember if she had asked Persephone to bring one. “You can use it to protect your finger, at least until you’re more sure that you won’t stab your finger. Usually, they’re used to protect the finger pushing the needle, but they can have other uses.”
As they returned to the task of learning new stitches, Chrysanthe was happy to see Persephone take as quickly to that stitch as the first one. It was a bit more tricky than the first, leaving a secure seam with a protected edge that could also add a layer of interest to a visible hem.
Chrysanthe waited patiently for the woman to answer her question. It was a weird thing she had noticed about the upper classes, they often seemed to spend a lot of time picking their words before speaking. Chrysanthe thought that sounded a bit exhausting, or perhaps they just had a greater level of the virtue of patience than she could hope to achieve as just a simple woman of no background. The mention of a future husband caused her to light up. “You are engaged then? That’s so wonderful! When are you to be married?” In Chrysanthe’s world, any marriage was a step up. It was always a cause for celebration that there was a man willing to tie themselves to a woman of no name, money, or title. The idea of marrying down was an unfamiliar one, and it didn’t entirely occur to her the implications of tying oneself to a man of a lower status.
How one could fall in station, that was something Chrysanthe could understand. This woman, however, had the opportunity to prepare for this change unlike she had had. How high had she been if this was what it looked like to have lost rank? Perhaps there was something she was missing. From where she was, all nobles appeared to be at some equally unattainable level, but she supposed there must be differences between them.
When Chrysanthe asked for such a thing as a thimble, Persephone was entirely uncertain if she could produce the item or not. When she had requested strips of fabric, thread and needles from the maids in the Dimitrou house, Persephone had not explained what she wished them for. She had not wanted word of her little lessons getting back to Iason and highlighting her ineptitude in wifely skills before she had had the chance to correct them. She thought it entirely likely that the servants in question had only procured her the items she had specifically requested. And had she even heard of a thimble before, she couldn’t honestly say that she would have had the forethought to make the request of one even then.
Unable to know for sure, Persephone had simply indicated the basket, with an open and friendly smile that suggested the young girl was welcome to look for herself. But any foraging was in vain. For when Chrysanthe went to look, it took her only a moment to ascertain that the item in question was not present and then draw back with a simple and regretful shake of her head.
Turning back to concentrate on her stitches and explain that she was soon to be married he was almost a little startled by the sudden and enthusiastic reaction of this near stranger. Persephone cared for Iason deeply and, if destiny had seen them down alternative paths that were still blessed in their crossing, she might have fallen for him all the same and theirs would be a union of love. Instead, the feelings they each privately held in regards to their betrothal were purely additive, the real purpose of their marriage arranged for the sake of political advancement. It was only since Persephone’s entire world turned upside down that such a reason for marriage had been taken off of the table.
In truth, Persephone was still uncertain just why Iason still wished to marry her. He claimed to live her, to wish for her to be his wife purely for the joy of her being so. But Persephone felt so out of touch and detached from every element of life that had determined her identity not a month before, that she couldn’t rightly find the woman that Iason cared for within herself. She was left with foggy understanding and a necessary blind faith that a woman of her intellect rarely liked to rely upon.
Altogether, her experience of betrothed life could Hardly be considered a natural path to romance. And not a single person outside the arrangement had spoken of it as a destination to just such an emotion. The pragmatic doc their union and the effect of would have upon the world and their families had always been the forethought.
This girl... Chrysanthe took the opposite approach. Ignorant of how she and Iason had come together, Chrysanthe was eager to view the story through rose tinted vision and see the joyous romanticism in something that was still finding its feet. The entire reaction - the way she spoke with such joy and her eyes sparkled, was infectious. Persephone, despite her surprise, was forced to smile a little shyly.
“I suppose you are right.” She agreed, declaring such a thing an event to be celebrated. “I have not yet had the chance to view it as such, for the match was arranged.”
She hesitated in the story there, focusing a moment more upon her fabric. She didn’t know how much this girl might be aware of Athenian politics and therefore how likely she was to place together the pieces of Persephone’s identity the more details she was given.
Persephone took a calming breath. Life was certainly complicated. Sometimes she wished she could hide the darker and more sorrowful of her memories from herself as well as she could hide them from others...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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When Chrysanthe asked for such a thing as a thimble, Persephone was entirely uncertain if she could produce the item or not. When she had requested strips of fabric, thread and needles from the maids in the Dimitrou house, Persephone had not explained what she wished them for. She had not wanted word of her little lessons getting back to Iason and highlighting her ineptitude in wifely skills before she had had the chance to correct them. She thought it entirely likely that the servants in question had only procured her the items she had specifically requested. And had she even heard of a thimble before, she couldn’t honestly say that she would have had the forethought to make the request of one even then.
Unable to know for sure, Persephone had simply indicated the basket, with an open and friendly smile that suggested the young girl was welcome to look for herself. But any foraging was in vain. For when Chrysanthe went to look, it took her only a moment to ascertain that the item in question was not present and then draw back with a simple and regretful shake of her head.
Turning back to concentrate on her stitches and explain that she was soon to be married he was almost a little startled by the sudden and enthusiastic reaction of this near stranger. Persephone cared for Iason deeply and, if destiny had seen them down alternative paths that were still blessed in their crossing, she might have fallen for him all the same and theirs would be a union of love. Instead, the feelings they each privately held in regards to their betrothal were purely additive, the real purpose of their marriage arranged for the sake of political advancement. It was only since Persephone’s entire world turned upside down that such a reason for marriage had been taken off of the table.
In truth, Persephone was still uncertain just why Iason still wished to marry her. He claimed to live her, to wish for her to be his wife purely for the joy of her being so. But Persephone felt so out of touch and detached from every element of life that had determined her identity not a month before, that she couldn’t rightly find the woman that Iason cared for within herself. She was left with foggy understanding and a necessary blind faith that a woman of her intellect rarely liked to rely upon.
Altogether, her experience of betrothed life could Hardly be considered a natural path to romance. And not a single person outside the arrangement had spoken of it as a destination to just such an emotion. The pragmatic doc their union and the effect of would have upon the world and their families had always been the forethought.
This girl... Chrysanthe took the opposite approach. Ignorant of how she and Iason had come together, Chrysanthe was eager to view the story through rose tinted vision and see the joyous romanticism in something that was still finding its feet. The entire reaction - the way she spoke with such joy and her eyes sparkled, was infectious. Persephone, despite her surprise, was forced to smile a little shyly.
“I suppose you are right.” She agreed, declaring such a thing an event to be celebrated. “I have not yet had the chance to view it as such, for the match was arranged.”
She hesitated in the story there, focusing a moment more upon her fabric. She didn’t know how much this girl might be aware of Athenian politics and therefore how likely she was to place together the pieces of Persephone’s identity the more details she was given.
Persephone took a calming breath. Life was certainly complicated. Sometimes she wished she could hide the darker and more sorrowful of her memories from herself as well as she could hide them from others...
When Chrysanthe asked for such a thing as a thimble, Persephone was entirely uncertain if she could produce the item or not. When she had requested strips of fabric, thread and needles from the maids in the Dimitrou house, Persephone had not explained what she wished them for. She had not wanted word of her little lessons getting back to Iason and highlighting her ineptitude in wifely skills before she had had the chance to correct them. She thought it entirely likely that the servants in question had only procured her the items she had specifically requested. And had she even heard of a thimble before, she couldn’t honestly say that she would have had the forethought to make the request of one even then.
Unable to know for sure, Persephone had simply indicated the basket, with an open and friendly smile that suggested the young girl was welcome to look for herself. But any foraging was in vain. For when Chrysanthe went to look, it took her only a moment to ascertain that the item in question was not present and then draw back with a simple and regretful shake of her head.
Turning back to concentrate on her stitches and explain that she was soon to be married he was almost a little startled by the sudden and enthusiastic reaction of this near stranger. Persephone cared for Iason deeply and, if destiny had seen them down alternative paths that were still blessed in their crossing, she might have fallen for him all the same and theirs would be a union of love. Instead, the feelings they each privately held in regards to their betrothal were purely additive, the real purpose of their marriage arranged for the sake of political advancement. It was only since Persephone’s entire world turned upside down that such a reason for marriage had been taken off of the table.
In truth, Persephone was still uncertain just why Iason still wished to marry her. He claimed to live her, to wish for her to be his wife purely for the joy of her being so. But Persephone felt so out of touch and detached from every element of life that had determined her identity not a month before, that she couldn’t rightly find the woman that Iason cared for within herself. She was left with foggy understanding and a necessary blind faith that a woman of her intellect rarely liked to rely upon.
Altogether, her experience of betrothed life could Hardly be considered a natural path to romance. And not a single person outside the arrangement had spoken of it as a destination to just such an emotion. The pragmatic doc their union and the effect of would have upon the world and their families had always been the forethought.
This girl... Chrysanthe took the opposite approach. Ignorant of how she and Iason had come together, Chrysanthe was eager to view the story through rose tinted vision and see the joyous romanticism in something that was still finding its feet. The entire reaction - the way she spoke with such joy and her eyes sparkled, was infectious. Persephone, despite her surprise, was forced to smile a little shyly.
“I suppose you are right.” She agreed, declaring such a thing an event to be celebrated. “I have not yet had the chance to view it as such, for the match was arranged.”
She hesitated in the story there, focusing a moment more upon her fabric. She didn’t know how much this girl might be aware of Athenian politics and therefore how likely she was to place together the pieces of Persephone’s identity the more details she was given.
Persephone took a calming breath. Life was certainly complicated. Sometimes she wished she could hide the darker and more sorrowful of her memories from herself as well as she could hide them from others...
Chrysanthe hesitated a bit when Persephone told her to look through the basket of sewing items in search of a thimble. This woman was so trusting of her and she was not used to it. What was there to stop her from pocketing an item or two? Had she been back in Vasiliadon she would have been expected to, to bring in what income she could for the children at the foundling home. Here though, it would only serve to enrich herself.
No, she wasn’t that desperate yet, and there was no one that she had to support but herself, so choosing not to avail herself of the opportunity was her choice alone. This woman trusted her, and she was going to show that that trust was not misplaced. The search through the bag turned up no such implement,
“Oh,” Chrysanthe frowned, not quite sure what the implications of such an arrangement were for the parties involved. She had not known much about those in her life. Sure there were marriages of convenience in order that a woman might have someone to provide for her, but that seemed distinctly different from arranged marriages. This woman seemed to have everything she might need even before marriage. “Well...is he a kind man at least? I was always told that you were lucky if you could find a marriage with a kind man.” Even if it wasn’t marriage for love, it would at least guarantee that the husband would not cause more problems in your life than he solved.
Chrysanthe noticed that Perse had put down her sewing and instead looked pensive. Clearly she was distracted. In Chrysanthe’s experience, that meant it was a good time for a change of pace so that the student didn’t lose interest in what they were being taught.
“Perhaps we should take a break on the sewing for now. You can practice on your own, and then I can show you some new things when next we meet.” Chrysanthe didn’t want to be so presumptuous to ask about learning to read right at that moment. While she was curious about learning what seemed like such a useful skill, she didn’t want to press Perse to follow through on her end of the bargain.
Luckily, Persephone was quick to catch on to the implication. She went to the horses and brought over the books she intended to use to help teach Chrysanthe to read. The rest of the afternoon was spent pouring over the texts, with Chrysanthe attempting to convince those little squiggles on the page to have any meaning to her. Despite the challenge, Chrysanthe found the exercise fun. It had been a while since she had been the one on the receiving end of lessons and it was a nice change of pace. They parted with promises of continuing lessons, something Chrysanthe very much looked forward to.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Chrysanthe hesitated a bit when Persephone told her to look through the basket of sewing items in search of a thimble. This woman was so trusting of her and she was not used to it. What was there to stop her from pocketing an item or two? Had she been back in Vasiliadon she would have been expected to, to bring in what income she could for the children at the foundling home. Here though, it would only serve to enrich herself.
No, she wasn’t that desperate yet, and there was no one that she had to support but herself, so choosing not to avail herself of the opportunity was her choice alone. This woman trusted her, and she was going to show that that trust was not misplaced. The search through the bag turned up no such implement,
“Oh,” Chrysanthe frowned, not quite sure what the implications of such an arrangement were for the parties involved. She had not known much about those in her life. Sure there were marriages of convenience in order that a woman might have someone to provide for her, but that seemed distinctly different from arranged marriages. This woman seemed to have everything she might need even before marriage. “Well...is he a kind man at least? I was always told that you were lucky if you could find a marriage with a kind man.” Even if it wasn’t marriage for love, it would at least guarantee that the husband would not cause more problems in your life than he solved.
Chrysanthe noticed that Perse had put down her sewing and instead looked pensive. Clearly she was distracted. In Chrysanthe’s experience, that meant it was a good time for a change of pace so that the student didn’t lose interest in what they were being taught.
“Perhaps we should take a break on the sewing for now. You can practice on your own, and then I can show you some new things when next we meet.” Chrysanthe didn’t want to be so presumptuous to ask about learning to read right at that moment. While she was curious about learning what seemed like such a useful skill, she didn’t want to press Perse to follow through on her end of the bargain.
Luckily, Persephone was quick to catch on to the implication. She went to the horses and brought over the books she intended to use to help teach Chrysanthe to read. The rest of the afternoon was spent pouring over the texts, with Chrysanthe attempting to convince those little squiggles on the page to have any meaning to her. Despite the challenge, Chrysanthe found the exercise fun. It had been a while since she had been the one on the receiving end of lessons and it was a nice change of pace. They parted with promises of continuing lessons, something Chrysanthe very much looked forward to.
Chrysanthe hesitated a bit when Persephone told her to look through the basket of sewing items in search of a thimble. This woman was so trusting of her and she was not used to it. What was there to stop her from pocketing an item or two? Had she been back in Vasiliadon she would have been expected to, to bring in what income she could for the children at the foundling home. Here though, it would only serve to enrich herself.
No, she wasn’t that desperate yet, and there was no one that she had to support but herself, so choosing not to avail herself of the opportunity was her choice alone. This woman trusted her, and she was going to show that that trust was not misplaced. The search through the bag turned up no such implement,
“Oh,” Chrysanthe frowned, not quite sure what the implications of such an arrangement were for the parties involved. She had not known much about those in her life. Sure there were marriages of convenience in order that a woman might have someone to provide for her, but that seemed distinctly different from arranged marriages. This woman seemed to have everything she might need even before marriage. “Well...is he a kind man at least? I was always told that you were lucky if you could find a marriage with a kind man.” Even if it wasn’t marriage for love, it would at least guarantee that the husband would not cause more problems in your life than he solved.
Chrysanthe noticed that Perse had put down her sewing and instead looked pensive. Clearly she was distracted. In Chrysanthe’s experience, that meant it was a good time for a change of pace so that the student didn’t lose interest in what they were being taught.
“Perhaps we should take a break on the sewing for now. You can practice on your own, and then I can show you some new things when next we meet.” Chrysanthe didn’t want to be so presumptuous to ask about learning to read right at that moment. While she was curious about learning what seemed like such a useful skill, she didn’t want to press Perse to follow through on her end of the bargain.
Luckily, Persephone was quick to catch on to the implication. She went to the horses and brought over the books she intended to use to help teach Chrysanthe to read. The rest of the afternoon was spent pouring over the texts, with Chrysanthe attempting to convince those little squiggles on the page to have any meaning to her. Despite the challenge, Chrysanthe found the exercise fun. It had been a while since she had been the one on the receiving end of lessons and it was a nice change of pace. They parted with promises of continuing lessons, something Chrysanthe very much looked forward to.