To Cut Me 
Your Tongue Must Be Sharper Than the Thick Skin You Made

Quickly, her fingers sought to desperately cover the wriggling mass within the leathers of the bag slung over her shoulder. She'd found the egg nestled under the briar'd greenery of the rose bushes within the garden. Never before had she seen such a thing, a shell as hard as (and covered in besides) scales of varying hues. There was sign of impact under it, the soft and loamy soil parted and enveloping the lower fraction of the protective aegis. Even under the scathing eye of the summer sun, it felt so warm. It had been nearly enough to sear her fingers upon her first inquisitive caress. After withdrawing her pads hastily, she would again reach forth, this time with both hands to gently grasp. Her initial impression had perhaps been that some child's craft had somehow managed to escape them - that they had tossed it over the fence and into her would-be prison.

However, the thought was effectively dashed instead when she had taken it into the house - hidden quite effectively under her skirts, or she had hoped. Placing it over the shade of a candle, the light did not permeate the exterior, though she scarcely believed it would have to begin with. It only seemed to grow in temperature, however, with the stimulant of the candle. A sense of happiness exuding from it akin to a cat's spoiled purr, thought it was soundless in its disturbance. She'd have thought herself going mad were it not from the slight shudder the peel gave off as she once again found curiosity her better and gave it a faint glissade. "Da vai roob klo vaeud?" The sound was a breathless whisper. Uncertainty had come next, knowing that any in the house hold would think her mad for stirring the small hearth within her room, though she had her doubts that her four walls could see many more candles lit, so it was the first option that suited her best.

So it was, days, perhaps weeks later, that the egg had hatched to the young woman, eagerly awaiting the entrance. However, a slight bite of horror claimed her initially at what wormed its way from the iridescent cell. A clawed limb reached out into the open air, stretching before once again withdrawing. It bore no skin, but was clad in the very armor it was birthed from. Wide crystalline eyes would watch in uncertainty as the sound of scratching bore fruit to the little one's effort. A lengthy tail emerged, another limb, the first head. Damp lids seemed ineffective to open at first, taking several attempts as it snapped blindly at the crackle of tinder, only to be joined by another, and another. Dragons? Triplets? But no, the three, rather short, necks all called the same bodice home. When finally those burning ember eyes found her, pupils dilated, snaring her features and it made its way towards her, skulls cocking to the side to observe her, limbs and movements clumsy in its infancy.

And it was hungry, very hungry. The kitchen staff had begun to grow suspicious of their missing cuts of meat, and thus far she had yet to reveal her new... companion to any in the Beleveron household. "H-hush, little one." She cooed, stealing across the street towards the butcher's shop. "We can't be caught-t!"

A quiet hum vibrated from the slender throat of the maiden as her mind wandered astray. Golden sunrise gaze soaking in the sights of Ordersten, a city that which she rarely ever visited save for the times spent traveling to the Cemetery or to the Beleveron estate. A one-track mind did not allow her to stray from her trek to adventure the streets elsewhere. It was not difficult to discern her from busy streets as she was dressed much less… high class. Sonata thought little of the passing second-takes though she would be lying if she said she was anything but comfortable. Far from it, feeling just as misplaced as a duckling in a flock of swans. She hid the feeling well daring not to make eye contact and instead glanced along the windows and their advertised displays as she did not seek such a lifestyle, nor did she ever dream of their expensive luxuries. Something zipped by her, nearly causing her to lose her footing though one step back was enough to ensure a collision as not on the agenda. Silver and lilac curls bounced following the retreat and sunset sight following the distracted runner. Ears twitched catching the familiar stutter causing a brow to rise. “Arabella?” came a gentle murmur. It may have not been any of her business and she knew it was not her day to provide lessons. Still, curiosity gnawed at her like a pestering gnat. How were her studies going? There was little Sonata knew of the primary tutor though what she did know was exhausting – such which personal thoughts were kept to herself and no other. To each their own though. Sonata could not argue as she knew the trials that came with teaching all too well. She was just… less aggressive in her lessons. Nevertheless, steps were redirected from an aimless meander to the young blonde Beleveron maiden. “Miss?” Sonata leaned forward in a subtle motion as if trying to gauge happenings on her own despite the slight height difference. Something was hidden beneath the expensive fabrics that dressed her student. An amicable simper would tug the teacher’s lips, “May I be of any assistance for you?” Set BEFORE Sonata's house fire.

Jahi

To Cut Me 
Your Tongue Must Be Sharper Than the Thick Skin You Made

She was wholly unaware of the woman she cut off and her familiarity. Her mind was absent, a single thought focused upon her destination and not those around her. Since the ruination of her would be wedding, she had largely stayed within the confines of Aethelos's and Arabella's home walls. Despite the recollections of her past returning, she had remained quiet, a viper lain in wait for unwary footfalls to approach. Even those dark musings were severed in this moment, however. Only trying to feed the young babe she'd happened upon. After all, she knew that if the mother was to return, it would not bode well for any of them to find her child wanting for anything. She had once lived side by side with the feral creatures of the desert, her people being nomadic and depending greatly upon their livestock and other fauna to survive their treks across the dunes.

She had seen no sign of such a creature in or anywhere near the gardens, but she knew that most were unwilling to simply abandon their broods to the mercy of fate. As the little drake struggled once more, she would catch its foot, gently placing it back within the satchel. “Arabella?” Her breath caught and her eyes widened as she heard the calling from behind her. Everything within her froze like a petrified fawn. Her back went stiff and rigid, lengthy tresses braided tightly together in a basket weave to keep them from sweeping the cobbled roadways and the neatly placed stone of the walkways. She could only hope that the thick tapestry was enough to shield the shiver that raced like the fingers of winter down the length of her back. The little dragon seemed to sense her worry and she felt the light rumble of a clumsy growl traveling through its small body. It was enough to stir her back into action as she retracted her hand, clasped the pouch that contained it and once again pulled her chemisette over it, tucking the light material smoothly down. “Miss?” This time, foot steps conjoined the almost worried tone and she now knew it to belong to the music teacher.

Normally, she was all too happy to see Sonata, and thoroughly enjoyed the difference between she and Babington, but right now was a different thing all together. If she saw the little dragon, she was sure to tell someone and eventually word would reach back to the head of the house. “May I be of any assistance for you?” She couldn't escape the glance the woman gave to her. Her cheeks flushed, the heat spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. "H-hello! Miss And-dante!" Her intonation was a note too pitched, cracking slightly with the all too common stutter of her accent as she smiled at the maiden.

Her fingers would splay over the fabric, hoping that the hydra would listen to her silent prayers and remain still. "N-no. I was just going to.... get something from the butcher! I-I was hoping to have something different for dinner." Again, she smiled, an expression that nervously touched the cerulean of her gaze. "That's all!"

Distance was spared, waiting for the appropriate time to bridge the gap between both she and the student. The rigidness in her abrupt halt reminded her all too much of her late son, caught in mischievous endeavors that he’d inherited more from her husband than herself. Christoph would argue the latter and remind her that she was just as much an impish little vixen than she truly let on. A soft smile tugged the corners of her lips in the reddening of the maidens cheeks and sporadic greeting. The stutter was a darling trait – finding no fault in the way the Beleveron lady spoke. A gentle nod was greeted in return as eyes cast down with a curious brow lifting following her inquiry. N-no I was just going to… get something form the butcher! I-I was hoping to have something different for dinner. If she were in her canine form, an ear would have twitched with disbelief detecting a fallacy but she knew not where. Sonata clasped her hands behind her back with a rise and fall of her shoulders looking to the butchers shop. There were several cuts of meat hanging in the window on display. “Arabella, you needn’t lie to me.” There was a maternal essence that lingered within her tone though there was no ill will behind it. “But you needn’t share with me if you do not wish, your business is your own.” Sonata could not fathom the life she lived. Having staff around every corner and never truly having privacy. “How about I purchase anything you’d like from the butcher today, hm? My treat.” The musician-and-teacher would step to the side as patrons came and went at their leisure. “And if anyone asks, you have been with me the whole time;” she pulled her hand to the side of her mouth as if to share a secret, a playful wink followed suit.

Jahi

To Cut Me 
Your Tongue Must Be Sharper Than the Thick Skin You Made

She had grown fond of the musician and her lessons. They were a complete and total opposite to the borish and droning inquisition that Babington lead against her. Though she rehearsed the same cords time and time again until she could play the rhythm correctly, it wasn't accompanied by the sharp wrapping of a ruler. Let alone when the woman bid her to 'walk properly'. Her feet were not accustomed or made for the vain heels of this society. A plea that often fell silently as the glass of water toppled over and over to soak her and mark her a failure. She also abhorred the stiff constraints of the corsets she was sometimes placed within, making her feel as if her ribcage was cinched together and her lungs were suffocating in a pit of briars. There was none of that with Mrs. Andante, but this was not a lesson, and the disbelief in the woman's observing gaze matched all too keenly the piercing, beady observation of her normal tutor.

“Arabella, you needn’t lie to me.” Her cheeks flushed further, a finger raising at first to the 'o' of her mouth as if to hush herself before tapping nervously against the heat of her countenance. "Oh, but..." she murmured sheepishly instead, her crown tilting to the side, attention downcast. Oh she wanted to be honest, to show someone her newfound friend, but even if the dame was sworn to secrecy, there was no promise she would keep it. Through accident or purpose. She had been so grievously betrayed once, it left a dark stain upon her trust. Also to watch the waltz of these people, lying and deceit were second nature to them. Her stare would dip to the space and cobble betwixt the two of them as her fingers splayed over the concealing fabric. “But you needn’t share with me if you do not wish, your business is your own.” Wide eyes would return to the woman's own face, a relieved beam accenting her expression. Some of the tension departing her shoulders and allowing them to lower. "Thank y-you, Mrs. Andantes."

“How about I purchase anything you’d like from the butcher today, hm? My treat.” At that, she would shake her head softly, "Oh, no! I c-couldn't!" Though gracious, she couldn't allow the selfless lady to purchase her things, not when she could spend the coin of her beloved father instead. If she were alone within the locked confines of her bedroom, her teeth would have gnashed together in fury. A prison cell and living space all in one, with the bars over her windows to prevent her from leaving without a watchful eye. The draft had also robbed her of Aethelos's shadow. Her assigned guardian departed to lend his blade elsewhere.

“And if anyone asks, you have been with me the whole time;” at that, she would perk up once again. It was familiar, this. It made the ache in her chest for home sweep to the forefront of her thoughts, though it was quickly stifled. "Thank you." Her breathless words were just barely above a whisper, rather certain that she hadn't been followed, but if she had, being in the company of her instructor would lower the risk of any intervention or pressure to return. "I just have to go h-here first!" she promised, grateful that the little bundle had ceased its squirming mercifully at last. "Th-then we can go anywhere!"

Bustling noise of mundane chatter in the background was nothing more than white noise of the city streets. Golden eyes, if only briefly, would idle upon passer-bys coming and going like a flock of prestigious geese. Silently they flaunted their wealth while there was the rumor of famine and hardships further away from the city lamp posts. It was enough for the teacher to bite the inside of her cheek. While she knew Arabella’s family did well to his promises, regarding compensation: Sonata hardly meddled with it, and instead invested in the reconstruction of her school and soon the repairs for the orphanage. Oh, but… Soft, stammering cords would cause lashes to flutter and casually return to the maiden watching as shoulders finally easing. Her own simper gently finding its place once more despite the ache of curiosity that gnawed at the musician. Thank you, Mrs. Andante. Sonata couldn’t hold back the subtle flinch at the addressed formality. She dismissed it for now following the offer to purchase those alleged yearnings for a different meal though it seemed her student did not hesitate to dismiss the compromise. “I insist,” Sonata encouraged. “Or, we could shop together even.” she looked to the meats in the window upon display. “I’d like to find something appropriate for a friend’s mother.” Recalling the promise ensured by a knight in the passing through the cemetery earlier in the week. Though realistically she did not know where to begin. She failed to ask Coen for further details and his mother knew nothing of the promise made yet. If she could muster a few meals to spare to the less fortunate, she’d only hope it would lessen the workload for the older woman. Attention would then fall back to the blonde blue-eyed maiden then noticed the chills of uncertainty finally began to melt. A relief, as she never wanted the maiden to be so on edge with her. Arabella seemed determined with the butcher; “Alright then,” she relented finally. “But, Arabella?” the teacher inquired. “Please, I am not so prickly as your other teacher.” she mused coyly. “You may be informal with me if you’d like and just refer to me by name.”

Jahi

“I insist,” she pressed, and while Daesn'yri appreciated her offer, there was more than a subtle sting of guilt attached to it. She didn't know the entirety of the woman's situation, but the thought of potentially taking a meal from her didn't settle well within her thoughts. Not while her 'father' would sit atop his empire of blood and commerce. No, if she was given the opportunity, she would spend every last crescent to his name, to cast him into the mires of the poor where he would suffer. If she was to be sold off for them to maintain their vast wealth and the prestige of their 'family name', then he certainly wouldn't miss a few pieces here and there. “Or, we could shop together even.” At that, she would offer a nod, a smile unfurling upon the edges of her petal lips. She couldn't allow the dame to pay for the food for her growing friend, but she would certainly not push aside her company. She found herself further relaxing as the soft sunrise of her eyes departed her and took with them their suspicious knowing that she was indeed up to something. It allowed her the time to release a long and slow exhale of relief to steady her rampant thoughts. “I’d like to find something appropriate for a friend’s mother.”

"I would like that." She would voice as well, words somewhat slow to keep herself grounded. With the dragon seemingly settled, she would give a somewhat dismissive sweep of her fingers along her skirts before removing her hands all together and allowing herself to rock gently upon her heels. "It's a b-beautiful day. I'd love to keep you company in any other errands!" She would offer.

“Alright then,” the woman would relent in regards to her purchasing her own things. Perhaps one day their roles would change - not that she knew of anything the woman would take an interest in learning from her - but that she may indeed have to take her up on her generosity. She knew what it was to be poor. To be starving and without anything worldly to exchange for even a stale piece of bread to fill her belly. She knew what those less fortunate now suffered, as her people had once faced a similar ordeal after being ostracized from the capitol city. The desert was not kind to the weak. Many passed in regard to the careless possession of the ruling monarch. “But, Arabella?”

The address would nearly make her skin crawl, a name that she could do naught but continue to claim for the time being. The mere sound of it was almost enough to make her stomach churn. It was also enough to rouse her temper, a hot flash of pure ire whenever those who would claim the title of her parents used it. Casually, as if their true daughter wasn't vehemently struggling to cling to existence. She could not imagine the twisted mentality they wielded, to be so calloused and whimsically destructive that they ripped her from her home and fed her such a complicated web of deception. “Please, I am not so prickly as your other teacher.” she would continue and Dae had to force herself to swallow down her revulsion. Not only was it no fault of the musician, but she could not yet abandon this ruse. “You may be informal with me if you’d like and just refer to me by name.”

"It would be a p-pleasure." Another breath of relief, her smile never drifting far from her countenance. "Though I m-may only do so as long as I'm aw-way." Otherwise, she was certain the head of the estate would have quite the fit.

It wasn’t difficult to discern but from the very beginning there was a tension that clung relentlessly into the air. As a schoolteacher, she knew that those first-day nerves were always present. They lingered for the first several days and eventually melted away with ease as her students grew accustomed to their days and their faces alight despite the early morning school bells that tolled to tug them from the comforts of their beds. Sonata often wondered what it was that kept that tension only just loose enough when it came to the Beleveron maiden? Just as she noticed the gossiping hens of the orphanage, she noticed that Arabella never seemed wholly at ease. But it wasn’t her business to pry. It wasn’t her place. Mentally Sonata had to reel herself back and remind herself that she was merely her tutor when needed and nothing more. She couldn’t help but hear that nagging reminder from her late husband that she couldn’t solve every little thing and some things were just as they way they were. I would like that. Sonata blinked as her thoughts were reeled back to the present. Her usual friendly simper could not soften her features more than they already were. It's a b-beautiful day. I'd love to keep you company in any other errands! Attention drew to the shops down the bustling streets. “Perhaps you can share with me places you like to shop?” Her shoulders rolled in a bashful awkwardness, “I am not really familiar with this part of Vufrien.” Her admittance was just as sheepish. She found herself sweeping down her own skirt out of nervous habit though did well to maintain composure all the same prompting the fellow maiden that formalities were nothing to be held overhead. It would be a p-pleasure. There was a wash of relief that fell from the teachers shoulders, Though I m-may only do so as long as I’m aw-way. Sonata nodded with understanding. The aghast expressions were something easy to picture upon the household staff within the home and if it were like any other, word travelled quickly. “Shall we?”

Jahi

It was one of her first pleasant surprises when Aethelos had informed her that he had found her a tutor for musical instruction after she had demonstrated interest in such a subject. News that should have made her swell with happiness had twisted vaguely. She hadn't known where her thoughts would take her after in those trying days, while her assumed 'mother' had fretted over the sundered flesh of her shoulder. A healer was brought to tend to the injury, a mixture of the arcane as well as tried and true bindings. The dissatisfaction like poison settled atop her tongue to be cursed with honesty after all this time. She had remained silent, her tongue locked behind braces of necessity. She feared what she would say if she spoke. Not for herself, but for the pitiful wraith of the true Arabella.

She wore the mantle of anger like armor. She built an aegis upon the bitterness that began to devour her from the inside out. She was as the placid surface of the water while the destructive force of a maelstrom made her chest its home and swallowed all it touched. Perhaps that's why Sonata was reached out to, an effort to end the carnivorous longing of a creeping strangle vine. If nothing else, the sessions had indeed gifted her with something to look forward to. Though it was enjoyable, it was far different from the raw emotion of the desert steppe. Even this art was restrained with grace and poignant grace, It was not the carnal beat of wild drums like heart beats reverberating through the firelit circle and colored by the radiant howls of bestial vocals. There was no war, no violence in this gentle artistry. The heart was there, but it was a different pulse.

It made her wonder, if but briefly, if she should have perhaps apologized to the young woman for making her bed with apathy in her first arrivals. Words that would not surface in current time, though they tiptoed like playful fingers to dance upon the tip of her tongue. “Perhaps you can share with me places you like to shop?” the instructor would implore instead, her shoulders rolling in soft admonishment. “I am not really familiar with this part of Vufrien.” Daesn'yri would nod, but only Arabella would speak. "There a-are a few I'm familiar with." But her affirmation was slowly followed by the shake of her crown, "But I'm afraid I'm not v-very knowledgeable with most shops either." Especially since her engagement was announced, she had been under strict permissions. Usually it was only under Aeth's watch that she had been permitted to part with the gates beyond the wall of the garden.

"We can return here after you're done," she would pose in askance, "so that the m-meat stays cold." She would turn her attention about, dulcet simper remaining steadfast upon her expression. A rising hum bubbled in thought. "What do you need to take care of? A-and I'll do my best to guide you there!"

Only storybooks had given Sonata some pretense of what the noble life was like. Even at a young age she’d always lived a rather modest and sometimes, trivial life. Her father a farmer and her mother tended to the regular chores. Both possessed an artistic streak that perhaps is what piqued her interest at such a young age. Though she never could perfect the paintings her mother did once upon a time. She did join in her father’s musical whims whenever he exposed his fiddle on the eves where the nights were clear. Despite the unforeseen circumstances that took place on the day of the lady’s wedding: she still could not get use to the expensive ceramic-tile floors or the frills of tapestries that hung high upon towering windows. The instructor wondered, if it was the different lifestyles they lived is what ultimately constructed that wall? Arabella didn’t seem to possess the same prestigious stuffy attitudes Sonata could not help but notice others had, nor that air. She seemed more… down to earth? Level-headed? There a-are a few I’m familiar with. Golden sights would gently return to her student, her amicable smile seemed to never leave her features otherwise delighted. But I’m afraid I’m not v-very knowledgeable with most shops either. She brought a palm to cup the side of her jaw, single index casually tapping her plush cheek. It was no concern as to whether or not she would know – nevertheless there was something and that was better than nothing at all.  We can return here after you’re done so that the m-meat stays cold. Sonata would nod her head in confirming agreement as she contemplated the inquiry following. “We could make a day of this, if that is alright with you.”  Her hands would rest in unison at her waist with laxed shoulders. “I need a few things,” she hummed. “I’d like to do some fabric shopping for my school..., some new curtains for the windows, maybe bedding too for the orphanage if the time allows – but something simple.” She wasn’t sure if that even sounded possible.  “And then I promised to help prepare meals at the church for a friend of mine,” Sonata shrugged. “I can pick up the meat when we circle back here,” she hummed idly. “Maybe a few new toys for the play area…” The teacher pondered before glancing back at the maiden, hoping she hadn’t bored her too much.

Jahi