February 27th, 1891 — Greenhouse, Ross Residence, North Bartonburg, Hogsmeade

Konstantin Fisk, in his sister's estimation, was an idiot.

Roslyn did not put a great deal of stock in the concept of a long courtship. Indeed, she and her own husband had met and married in less than half a year. While such an arrangement, she hoped, would allow Zelda to change her mind about Mr. Darrow, Ros had warmed up to Miss Evans much more quickly, and wished her brother would simply get on with it so that the extended Fisk family might move past the requisite gossip sooner than later. True, Miss Evans was still a bit rough around the edges, but so had Dionisia been. Any stone could be beautiful with the right amount of polishing.

"There are gloves and an apron by the door," Ros offered without looking up from her planter as the housekeeper deposited her soon?-to-be-sister in her greenhouse. She had invited Miss Evans over ostensibly for tea, but the greenhouse was much more suited to her...intentions than the drawing room or parlor.

Ros set the small paring knife she'd been using down on the work bench, her lether-clad hand moving to remove an errant hair from her face. Her leather apron, she noted, had largely done the trick; there was, however, a bit of soil on her sleeve. No matter; it was nothing the maid hadn't dealt with before.

She turned around to offer a warm smile of greeting.

— Amelia Evans —

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

An invitation by the Minister's wife was not something that Amelia had anticipated ever happening in her life. In fact, it was enough to make her stomach drop. If it didn't make her seem even more odd, she would have brought Penny along to help calm the anxiety that was mounting as she was led through the residence by the housekeeper.

She expected to be led into the tea room, or sitting room, but Amelia watched that room pass quickly enough, and she was left with a mildly perplexed look on her face as they entered the back and into the greenhouse. While Amelia didn't have anything really very fancy to wear to such an occasion, she'd tried to pick the nicest thing she had, which was a simple, pale olive green linen dress. Still, it was still a dress that she often wore for daily activities, and wasn't something she would worry about getting dirt on. At the very least it was clean and she didn't have to walk into the Minister's residence with dirt on the hem.

As she donned the nearby apron, Amelia breathed in the clean, fresh scent the greenhouse had to offer. Having spent many a day working outside herself, it only reminded her of tending to her own garden, and she felt herself relax a fraction or two. "Thank you so much for the generous invitation, Mrs. Ross." she said, donning the gloves as she neared the blonde witch. Amelia's own multi-colored eyes surveyed the greenhouse once again with mild curiosity. "This place is quite lovely."

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   Elladora Black

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"You really must call me Roslyn," she chided, though her tone was more bemused than it was biting, "especially if my brother intends to make us sisters. As to the greenhouse, it was built to my own design," she continued, smiling proudly to herself as she looked about the space. "I find one needs a space that belongs to them and then alone."

Particularly with a husband so aggressively within the public eye. Given her druthers, Roslyn Ross would have very happily lived her entire life with a social circle that stopped not far from the family limits. Her greenhouse had always been a place of calm, but had become a place of sanctuary after her husband's election.

— Amelia Evans —

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Never in her life did she really have a dream. Perhaps it was to have a happy marriage like her aunt and uncle, and to have a husband and children that loved her and who she loved unconditionally, but those were things that Amelia wanted because it had to do with what she had witnessed or lacked in her own life. Looking around at the vast greenhouse, ripe and overspilling with greenery, Amelia could feel the inklings of something resembling a desire to have something like this herself. A space that belongs to them and them alone.

She'd never had something like that aside from a room. A house was a home, but was it really her own? The closest thing she'd had to her own space was maybe at work. "Only if you call me Amelia." she responded, with a smile.

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   Roslyn Ross

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"Very well," she agreed with a wry smile, "Amelia. I hope you weren't too startled by my invitation; I felt as though we needed a quiet moment, just the two of us, that we might talk without all the...the pageantry that Society would demand."

She worked as she spoke, but at a slower pace; it would not do, after all, for her plants to suffer for her multi-tasking.

"This place...I think it is where I feel most myself, save for when I am with family, of course."

— Amelia Evans —

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

She had to praise Mrs. — Roslyn — for her plans. Amelia knew, thanks to that society tea a month or so ago, that she would never have been able to let her guard down to genuinely participate in such a talk as the one they seemed to be headed towards right now. She indeed, felt a lot more relaxed surrounded by the smells and sounds that were similar to what she was used to. Even if there were no animals, the sounds of the birds just outside the greenhouse seemed to suffice.

Though, as Amelia looked at the tools laid out in front of her, she realized it had been a while since she'd really focused on anything in the garden. Her aunt had tried to teach her at one point or another, but Amelia knew she had been too focused on the animals surrounding her to pay any attention. Oh, how she wished she had paid attention now.

Picking up the clippers, Amelia prayed her aunt's instructions to come back to her as she began pruning the rose bush in front of her. Inhaling the scent of the roses, Amelia nodded slightly as the blonde witch spoke. "Your instincts do you credit," she confirmed as she eyed the cross branches and snipped them. That seemed to look correct? Anything thinner than a quill, her aunt's voice came back to her. She snipped those too. "I hope I've not offended anyone." she began, an apology already forming on her lips. "Mrs. Longbottom was awfully kind last month at the New Year's Tea."

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   Roslyn Ross

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"Oh, I am glad of it!" Roslyn remarked, relieved that Amelia had survived the endeavour.

Miss Evans was not like Dio. She was not born to the trappings of a middle class lifestyle (though likewise had never known complete and utter abandonment), and had not set her sights upon a man who might be content with a quiet life. Kons was just as much in the public eye as Ros' own husband, a position that would provide Amelia a great deal of scrutiny the longer their names remained linked. If even one of society's most esteemed matrons might take a liking to her, the road Amelia would have to walk would become much easier.

"But did you enjoy yourself? Had I been doing my duty more thoroughly, I might have debriefed you properly. I'm afraid there are a great deal of such events in your future, should you remain upon your current track."

— Amelia Evans —

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

Enjoyment might have been a stretch for what Amelia had experienced. Mrs. Longbottom had been a very lovely conversation partner, but that didn't change the fact that Amelia felt wherever she went she would be received as a charity case with a smudge of dirt on her nose given her line of work.

"You did your duty perfectly," Amelia insisted with a smile as she finished pruning the rosebush. She deposited the branches in the proper area before moving onto the next plant.

"Although, I can't help but feel that I'm rather ill-equipped to this life." It was an entirely different life from the one she was used to. Surely if she attended events like the New Year's Twa that public comments on her background, her career, her birth family...all of those would come to light. Was she the type of person the Fisks wanted in their clan? "I've never..I've never hosted anything much less held a room's attention." Perhaps except for when she was giving speeches to a crowd. But even then she was surrounded by animals to lend her comfort. She could hardly expect that once she hosted her first event that she might be able to step outside and confide in a miniature horse, or Penny or Pascal.

  

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For a long moment, Roslyn remained quiet, ostensibly focused on the task at hand. Once she had successfully done the thing, she looked at Amelia once more, choosing her words carefully.

"It is certainly a skill that can be learned," Ros offered, "but only if you want it."

She did not say that Amelia had to want it if she wanted Kons as well, but not saying it drew just as much attention as voicing the words aloud.

— Amelia Evans —

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

The only question that remained was if she wanted this life. It would be extremely public; could she handle that in the end, or would it catch up to her? This world was one that Konstantin thrived in, and if she were to become part of the family, it would mean that her life in sleepy little Irvingly would likely become no more.

Amelia let herself sit in that realization as silence settled between the two women. A skill could be learned. Amelia raised her eyes to observe the Minister’s wife - her future sister-in-law, if she chose this path - and wondered what her life was like before meeting Minister Ross. Surely she had to adjust to this amount of public attention as well. ”Is it a hard skill to learn?” She chose this question carefully, not wanting to insult Mrs. Ross by implying this is what her life was like before. For all she knew, the former Miss Fisk could have adored the spotlight before it was thrust upon her.

  

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"It is easier for some than others," Roslyn answered honestly, "and it is easier the longer one has to perfect their skills."

Though hosting and Society and all that jazz was something Ros was well-versed in by now, it was not necessarily something she liked. Though Amelia seemed a dear and Kons clearly bore the woman affection, she could not help but wonder if she shouldn't advise the younger woman to run while she still had the chance.

— Amelia Evans —

  

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— #PrettiesByMJ —

The pruning shears paused in Amelia's hand as she took in Mrs. Ross's response. Easier for some than others. Which begged the question, which category would she ultimately fall into? Surely being the wife of the Minister was far more demanding than a life as the wife of a high-ranking Ministry member. But all the same, Amelia figured she should suspect much of the same scrutiny placed on her. If not the same, perhaps even more given that she would move from Working to Middle Class.

The fact remained though, that the thought of removing herself from their relationship made her own stomach drop and her cheeks pale. She knew she would at least be devastated...but Konstantin seemed such a rock; immovable and well-grounded. If anything, he wouldn't have her to worry about if she left...otherwise, what was she to him? What would she become to him if she joined his family? Surely they would think her lack of knowledge and expertise a burden. Except perhaps Miss Fisk, whom Amelia had encountered at the zoo. She seemed the understanding type. But what about the rest of them - the rest of Society?

Shaken by this realization, Amelia took a deep breath and continued pruning the plants in front of her. No wonder Mrs. Ross came out here to gain some perspective. It certainly seemed to clear Amelia's own mind a great deal.

  

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