Hearing Cash’s compromise, Adrienne beamed at him, feeling a rush of affection swell in her chest. So far, their marriage seemed to be going quite well; at least better than Adrienne could have dreamed. She’d never thought that her father would have sent her off with an oaf, but there was no telling what someone was like when they were at home, out from under society’s scrutiny. And thankfully, she needn't have worried so much. She’d been a little concerned as to how Olympe would feel, being added to the household staff, but the french lady’s maid seemed to take to it comme un poisson dans l’eau. “She’d be happy you’re using them.” Seneca and Olympe both, for entirely different reasons of course.

Her hand fluttered up to her hair and she furrowed her brows. “I haven’t a clue what Olympe did, but I shall trust you.” She felt some twists, and perhaps a plat or two in there. “Unfortunately I don’t think I’d be able to give you the adjective either! I may have been speaking English for quite some time, but some of your words still puzzle me exceedingly.” Either way, she felt a flush of pleasure knowing Cash approved.

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