Scorched

7

Gwen - Genevieve's sister has given her a stronger tea than the one Genevieve gave her, for her thigh irritation. How a tea works for irritation Cleo still struggles to understand till this moment. The woman however, said that they might have to see what the exact problem was internally - if it didn't go away. Cleo tried not to whack the woman over the head with the nearby potted succulent plant that was eyeing Cleo with a look that said if she wants to open you, break her head open with me! since she entered the infirmary. Cleo still considers doing it to the woman, no matter how brilliant she was. The healers has thus given Cleo no choice but to lie about the ameliorating of her thigh. Each day it will be better. Because she under no circumstances, will allow her thigh to be cut open. Even if she has to fake the healing of it.

Cleo sighs and cups her chin, digging that elbow on the round table in the center of the meeting room. The room she was envisioning burning  to the ground. And the people in it. For once in her life let there be peace. Just once. She really needs to stop threatening to burn the entire City to the ground already.

She woke up with a foul mood this morning and it wasn't just because of the meeting that was to take place. It was her underlying mood. She wasn't in the state of mind to talk to anyone. But when she remembered her awful bath the previous evening, she had no choice but to call the maid into her room - a new maid that is, to run it for her. Surprisingly the new lamb knew what to do, as the bath was still better than Cleos'. And she has then come to the conclusion that she has been cursed. Utterly and cruelly cursed. The heavens just refused to bless her with yet another skill, burning people alive seemed to be better than the skill of running a bath. But it's a bath for goodness sake, not a life or death situation. She thought perhaps it was oils before water and not her way which is water before oils. She'd try that tonight. If it means having her own peace, she'd do anything to gain it.

As she turns her gaze to the art work of the Elementals, her name gets called.

"Miss Cleo?"

It was Landon. Old Landon.

She gives him with a questioning gaze, "Yes?"

Landon takes off his monocle and wipes at it with his handkerchief. Many other courtesans have been summoned to this meeting, necessitious courtesans to discuss future issues and to amend the Court's  current disputes; which was very important as Cleo were to make the necessary decisions and new laws. But she didn't even know what was happening. She still wanted to ask Landon about Kaleb Drakon? Darran? She can't remember. But so far the meeting has gone on rather repellent not to mention that the red-headed woman with the plunging neckline has given Cleo a flagrant look since she entered, Cleo but only returned the look, she didn't care that the woman was head of matronism or anything for that matter. This Lady Delilah could jump into a sea of fire for all Cleo cared. Cleo wasn't sure why Lady Delilah gave her that look either. Could it be that Cleo was more beautiful than her or that Cleo was better off than she was?

Cleo looks into the woman's colassal voluptuous breasts. What a perfect  spot for shrouding her weeds. She wonders if Lady Delilah cares to lend her some. Whatever will she do with all that jelly anyway. Noticing that Cleo was looking deep into her breasts, she gasps out loud and cowers up. But she didn't seem to have a problem when all the men, guards and Landon himself were scrutinizing them. She actually crouched her torso lower to gain the attention of them. And Cleo thought that she was the vexing one in the meeting.

"I was saying," He takes a deep breath before returning his monocle. She wonders if this was the fourth or fifth time that he repeated himself for her. "There have been numerous complaints about the ploughing of crops and farms and the animals not feeding enough because of it."