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11-10-2005, 12:36 AM | #11 |
Shadow Lord of Morgul
Join Date: Sep 2005
Posts: 547
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Governor’s Mansion, Monday, around 12:30
A patronizing expression on his face, Maethor sat looking blandly as Miriel and Malaphel chattered on. “Oh, you simply must come to the governor’s mansion for coffee, Professor Maethor,” Miriel had effused. “Are you sure it would not be too much trouble, my dear?” Maethor hedged politely. Malaphel, not to be cut out of the conversation by her sister, gave her sister a piqued look and then interrupted her. “Certainly not, Professor. We would be delighted to have you!” “Shall we leave now then, ladies?” Maethor asked. “Oh, yes, yes!” both of them said in unison. Quickly he paid for the bottle of wine that he had drunk at the Red Herring. Then with one arm hooked about Miriel’s arm and the other hooked about Malaphel’s, they set off for the governor’s mansion. The doorman smiled benignly as he ushered them into the entry hall. Soon the two girls had taken him into a comfortable sitting room. Orders for tea and cakes were given to the servants, and soon all were seated comfortably about the room. “Delightful tea, my dears,” Udu said. Really he thought, “It is rather bland for my tastes.” “Cakes, sir?” asked the serving girl. “Only a few, please. Since recovering from a terrible Eastern malady, I have not had much appetite,” he said and smiled politely. He nodded to her as she gave him a plate with several rich pastries. “More tea, sir?” “Just a spot, thank you,” he beamed at the serving girl. Miriel and Malaphel ate their cakes and drank their tea daintily, smiling at him, but their interests were perked at the mention of some strange disease. “Were you terribly ill, Professor?” Miriel asked excitedly. “It must have been terrible, Professor Maethor!” added Malaphel. “I almost perished,” he said. “Death was almost upon me.” He thought, “I might as well make this sound as serious as I can, and sympathy is always a soothing balm.” He coughed deeply. “Oh, Professor, I am so sorry!” sympathized Miriel. “You poor dear,” said Malaphel. “Ladies, I am in fair health now, but I fear my appetite is wretched. I ate but little.” They looked at him sympathetically, and thought about what he had said. “I would like to have met your father,” he addressed Miriel. “He is occupied in his study with a great store of papers and will not be disturbed. I am sure he would have like to have met you, Professor!” “Perhaps another time,” said Maethor. He crossed his legs and ate sparsely of the cakes. “I saw only a little of the performance of the Eastern dancers at the reception. That was disappointing. I should like to have seen a longer performance. I have seen them in the East.” “Tell us about the dances of the East, Professor,” Miriel said excitedly. “Yes, do, do!” echoed Malaphel. He thought to himself and pondered what he could say that would not be too shocking to their Western senses. “I will say, my dears,” a slight hint of a smile on his face, “that they put their hearts, souls and bodies into their dances. They are said to be very,” he paused, “rewarding. The dances I mean.” |