August 1st, 1894 — Blackwood manor
It was a sizable entourage that had convened on a rainy Sunday afternoon to enter the magical carriage that stood ready at the grand old townhouse of the noble and ancient Rosier family.
There was Mr. Alastair Claudas Rosier, heir to the estate, his greying valet, two servants, and additionally a driver for the carriage. They would be joined by the chaperone and any and all aunts and maidservants that Lady Ginevra Blackwood would like to take with her.
The opulent dark-green carriage was set in motion to the address of the Blackwoods. No regular horses were pulling but two steeds fashioned of blackened silver, whose hooves made no sound when they hit the cobblestone. The carts and coaches and pedestrians on the streets of London seemed to mysteriously part to the sides without taking any notice of the imposing vehicle, whose doors were adorned with a coat of arms showing burning roses in faded colors.
When they arrived at their destination, the driver sprang down and opened the door. Mr. Alastair Rosier and his valet stepped out to wait for the Blackwoods to come and greet them. They were to visit a museum together today, Miss Ginevra and him, so they might get to know each other. He hoped to marry her, after all.
Alastair sighed and adjusted his silken cravat. He was thinking about the whore he bedded two nights ago.
Then he heard a servant call out:
“May I present Lady Ginevra Blackwood!”
Mr. Alastair Rosier looked towards the entrance. There she was.
There was Mr. Alastair Claudas Rosier, heir to the estate, his greying valet, two servants, and additionally a driver for the carriage. They would be joined by the chaperone and any and all aunts and maidservants that Lady Ginevra Blackwood would like to take with her.
The opulent dark-green carriage was set in motion to the address of the Blackwoods. No regular horses were pulling but two steeds fashioned of blackened silver, whose hooves made no sound when they hit the cobblestone. The carts and coaches and pedestrians on the streets of London seemed to mysteriously part to the sides without taking any notice of the imposing vehicle, whose doors were adorned with a coat of arms showing burning roses in faded colors.
When they arrived at their destination, the driver sprang down and opened the door. Mr. Alastair Rosier and his valet stepped out to wait for the Blackwoods to come and greet them. They were to visit a museum together today, Miss Ginevra and him, so they might get to know each other. He hoped to marry her, after all.
Alastair sighed and adjusted his silken cravat. He was thinking about the whore he bedded two nights ago.
Then he heard a servant call out:
“May I present Lady Ginevra Blackwood!”
Mr. Alastair Rosier looked towards the entrance. There she was.