luxuryflower | FIC : temperament

Tonight, it’s Lady de S.’s party that Marguerite is attending – an Easter party sporting masks and costumes, Prudence tagging along in the hopes of benefiting from the attention in which Marguerite never fails to bask. Gaston may be rich, but he is no gentleman (unlike Marguerite’s sweetest Armand) and even less of a Count. As a result, he can only sate Prudence’s hunger so much. The girl is a greedy one, after all… Someone calls out her name and Marguerite turns to face them, Count N. hurrying up to her and bowing gracelessly. The man may be of nobler breeding than half the guests tonight, but nothing in his demeanour shows it. She finds him utterly dull, nothing like Armand who is all heart and spirit. Her Armand --

“I’ve acquired this for you, my dear Marguerite,” the Count says, then. While fishing a beautiful gold-and-ruby bracelet out of his pocket. Immediately Marguerite’s somewhat cool exterior cracks and she offers him a benevolent smile, holding out her wrist for him to fasten it around. Oh, he’s no less uninteresting, simply because he produces precious stones and beautiful jewellery, but such objects do – all things considered – make life much more enjoyable. For a treacherous moment, her thoughts return to Armand who is waiting for her in his small, humble apartment and certainly, she will hurry to his side as soon as she has made her presence known here. She isn’t a colder person than that, is she?

She may be dressed up as Carmen tonight and Manon may be her sister in profession, but Marguerite would not cheat on a man to whom she’s declared her undying love or rob her lovers of their riches. All her suitors pay her creditors of their own free will and she has yet to confess her true love to anyone, for anything else would be senseless of a woman in her position. Her position as the most famous and beautiful courtesan in all of Paris. A courtesan who sports a lover who is in possession of no wealth from which she can profit, but who makes every cough which tears itself from her throat a little easier to bear.

Surely she isn't a colder person than that.