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delia of eldorne

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[Delia is curled up in a booth, with a bottle of wine, sulking about the tab issue. Only, Eldornes Do Not Sulk, so maybe she's 'brooding'. Although, that isn't a very feminine word, so maybe...]

[Delia is Sulking, and trying to wrestle with her noble's pride at the same time. It's not really working, as Eldorne pride is both canonical and a bitch to deal with. But, to her credit, she is trying.]

[ooc: mun is doing uni work, so replies will be somewhat slow]

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So, what about you? What are your normal compliaments?

He muses for a moment. "People rarely compliment me."

Well. That's a shame.

"Perhaps not. If I were regularly told I was wonderful, I would not be the shy and self-effacing man I am." He grins at her, anything but shy.

[she laughs]

Ah, I see.

"Indeed." He chuckles softly.

"Art thou a tease, my lady, or a flirt?" He raises an eyebrow.

A flirt.

The smile widens. "Very good to know."

I always think so.

He gives her a rather long look. "Casting all verbal fancies aside, if thou wert to follow through on thy flirting, if thou'lt forgive my crudeness, 'twould not be for the money?"

[she pauses]

I would be lying if I said that I do not feel as if I owe you, but...that would hardly be the whole story. I've been flirting with you for a while, have I not?

"Aye," he agrees. "Most pointedly." He grins at her. Soulless as he is, there are still niceties to be observed. He doesn't want to buy himself a whore.

[he can't own her - no one can, not anymore. The only man who could has abused that power too many times]

What a pity neither of them can read the narrative. Or, perhaps, not.

He cocks his head to one side. "I certainly do not wish thee to feel obliged to me."

I am a courtier, with a sense of pride.

"And I am, likewise, bred to court, and taught that it is my duty - and, in this case, my pleasure - to aid those in need."

Eldorne pride.

"The legandary stubborness of the di Verona clan. Hast not met mine brother, Mercutio?" He smirks.

No, I have not.

"Ha." Valentine shakes his head. "He is an oaf, but he is as stubborn as I. 'Twould have been a good case in point."

Ah, well.

"Aye." He looks rather pointedly at her wine, which appears to have disappeared. "Wouldst care for some more wine? And wouldst have it here, or somewhere more private?"

Mmm, maybe somewhere more private?

"My sentiments exactly." He stands, and offers his arm to her with a bow.

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