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Chapter 29: Self Control

Raiva was enjoying the gentle afternoon glow outside as she approached the city walls. There was no commotion outside, so presumably the fire at the academy had been put out.

I wonder if Griffin will have to stay there a while to get things under control?

As her mind wandered to the handsome captain, she thought she heard someone call her name.

“-va!”

She looked to her left, eyeing the café across the street, where she heard the voice and a clattering from.

No one was looking at her however. Instead, some incident was going on, with a man and a woman arguing loudly about something that didn’t quite make it all the way to her ears. The man seemed vaguely familiar, but she decided to shrug it off after having a second look.

He looks like a few people I know, I suppose.

But there’s no reason for me to get involved in whatever in going on there. I must have misheard.

Shaking her head to herself, she nodded to the guardsman by the gate and continued her walk home in a comfortable pace. It wasn’t very late yet, so she was in no rush. Seeing as it had been a while since she had taking a leisurely stroll.

Her walk took her to the riverbank, which ran almost parallel to the main residential street on this side of the district. Though a not insignificant detour, it was nothing that would exhaust her feet too much.

I wonder if Victor got out of there alright?

She chuckled to herself, as she sat down on a patch of grass. For a while she sat sat there, gazing out over the river, across to the open grasslands of the Protected Empty just on the other side.

The air was comfortably warm, with a gentle breeze sweeping across the landscape around her. A small boat floated by on the river, a delivery from the Lake Docks further west by the look of it. The man noticed her looking and tipped his hat as a greeting, as he passed by. She smiled and lifted her hand in a return gesture, sighing to herself as he left her view.

What a wonderful day.

She wanted to lay down in the grass, but was worried she would get scolded by Shelly for staining her clothes and messing up her hair too much. Instead she just sat, eyes closed, listening to the distant sound of people, the whooshing of the wind and the trickle of the river in front of her.

When Raiva next opened her eyes, the sky was tinted orange.

Clearly, hours had somehow passed without her noticing.

I must have dozed off.

She stood up and stretched, then inspected her backside for grass stains.

All good. Somehow.

Making a note to herself of asking Octavia how the fabric was so stain-proof, she made her way down the nearest side street and began her walk down Opal Street.

Almost every house she passed was busy with preparations for dinner. Lanterns were lit, cooks were shuffling about in side windows and important looking people arrived at their homes, in an oddly synchronized manner.

Every one of them looked at her a little odd, like they were on the cusp of recognizing her. She even recognized a few in turn, a judge who played with the idea of letting the fire go to trial, a banker who shooed her out of his office and refused her access to her accounts.

This isn’t good.

She looked directly ahead, convincing herself that they wouldn’t realize it was her. She strode confidently, yet ladylike down the paved street and did her best impression of a regular merchant’s wife, nodding demurely when someone would meet her eye further down.

Finally, she arrived at the house.

Home.

The wistful thought lingered from when she gleaned it in the distance, until she noticed a familiar figure walking towards her from the other side.

She smiled and hollered, “Octavia!”

The figure’s head jerked up a little at the sound her voice.

“Raiva,” she greeted with a smile as she came into speaking distance. “This is a first.”

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“Yes,” Raiva chuckled. “I’m not usually out this late, and you’re usually out later, after all.”

Octavia shrugged indifferently, but gave her a quick look up and down.

“I’m glad to see you like the clothes. That outfit was one I particularly looked forward to seeing you in,” she said, half suppressing a grin.

“Oh? How come?”

“I made the whole thing, and I’d like to think it shows,” she laughed airily as they climbed the front stairs.

Immediately, Raiva became very aware of how and where the fabric touched her body. Of the blouse gently brushing against her chest and the skirt hugging her hips firmly. She fought the blush threatening to emerge and instead changed the subject.

“On another note, about the favor you asked?” she said, doing her best not to stumble over the words. “I have something I’d like to show you, that might be of interest. Do you have time after dinner?”

Octavia clapped her hands together once in an almost theatrical fashion.

“I was just about to ask the same! I was hoping to get a fitting in for a first draft of sorts of the dress. Would you mind coming to my rooms later? At eight?”

Raiva was a little surprised, but relieved at the smooth transition.

“Of course,” she replied, about to excuse herself to go rest before the meal.

“Oh, and don’t eat too much before then, it’ll make the fit less precise.”

Before giving her a chance to respond, Octavia gave her a wave and made her way up the stairs, disappearing into the room to the immediate right.

What?

After relaxing in her office for a bit, looking forward to Victor’s reaction at dinner, and to showing Octavia the hairpin later, she went to join dinner preparations.

To her surprise, Cassian was there, setting out plates with a visibly shocked Shelly, whose eyes met hers pleadingly.

Raiva suppressed a burst of laughter, and instead asked Cassian, “Cassian, what are you doing?”

Shelly gasped at the informality, but Raiva felt this wasn’t the time to elaborate.

“Helping with dinner of course,” he replied simply, as though it was a silly question.

“Yes, but why?”

“Because you normally do, and I wanted to see what it’s like. It isn’t so bad, really.”

He smiled his charming star-actor-of-the-big-stage smile, and temporarily rendered both Raiva and Shelly speechless.

Shelly eventually decided to elaborate.

“But my lord, the madam-“

“Yes exactly, Shelly. I’m also wondering why the madam of the house is doing chores while employing a housekeeper,” he interrupted, shooting Raiva a telling glance. “Or why she eats in the kitchen?”

Shelly’s head turned to her now, Cassian having touched a subject they both apparently agreed on.

“You know, my lord, I have been wondering the same thing! She really ought not to, being the madam and all, especially a noble one at that!”

“A former noble, and in title only,” Raiva interjected, though she went largely ignored.

“Then one day, she tells me, no, she wants to do her part, as though that were not what she pays us for! It is baffling, my lord,” Shelly sighed dramatically.

“I see,” Cassian’s smile turned into a grin, and Raiva knew she would lose this battle already. “Do you suppose she would like to dine with us tenants then? We are all on quite good terms by now anyway, and it only feels proper at this point.”

Raiva narrowed her eyes at him.

He looked back at her, unshaken, as though daring her to make him say more.

“I’m perfectly comfortable in the kitchen, thank you. Now, Cassian, I think Shelly-“

Cassian interrupted, “You know just the other day, I saw the cap-“

“Fine! I’ll eat in the dining room! I give up!”

Raiva raised both arms in surrender and sighed at the two conspirators in front of her.

Cassian nearly gleamed.

“Excellent. I will leave you to it then, Shelly,” he said as he left to do something or other in his rooms.

Raiva looked at Cassian leaving, then back to Shelly who was now wearing a broad smile, the closest to a grin she had ever seen on her face.

Wait, did those two-

Before she could finish her thought, and more importantly say something, Shelly ran away to the kitchen, leaving the plates and cutlery behind.

“Treason,” Raiva mumbled under her breath as she finished setting up the table.

By the time all preparations finished, Octavia had taken her seat at the table and Cassian was sauntering down the stairs, pretending not to have instigated these new arrangements.

Raiva shot him a glare as she took her own seat at the head of the table, with Octavia on her right. Cassian sat on her left.

“You’re joining us? In here?” Octavia asked, a little puzzled at the sudden change.

Raiva did her best not to sigh again.

“Yes. Shelly and Cassian suggested it earlier and they were very… convincing.”

Cassian snorted and helped himself to some potatoes as he elaborated.

“Isn’t this much more pleasant, Octavia? After all, I find that we see Raiva so rarely despite all of us living under the same roof.”

“Much more pleasant, Cassian,” she replied surprisingly promptly, chuckling into her soup.

Raiva decided to ignore the two and instead focused on the food laid out on the table. Attempting to heed Octavia’s request, she only grabbed some bread, a bowl of soup and some salad.

The three chit chatted as they ate, mostly about the change of season, some new bustle trend having appeared in high society, as well as the discovery of a new crab species in the south part of the Gonten River.

When she finished the food on her plate, Raiva was still hungry. She eyed the roast on the table, when Octavia’s head shot up.

“Raiva will be modeling at the Solstice Gala for me.”

Cassian’s eyes opened wide.

“Oh my. You’re attending the Gala?” he asked Raiva, visibly baffled.

“Well,” she responded sheepishly, reaching out for the roast. “Yes.”

Clearly left wanting by this answer, he continued his wide-eyed stare.

“That’s quite some favor given your notoriety,” he blurted out.

“And that is what I’m hoping to capitalize on,” Octavia replied rather stiffly, pulling the roast out of Raiva’s reach. “We have a fitting after this, incidentally.”

Cassian witnessed the interaction with amusement.

“Ah, I see,” he replied, holding back laughter at the sight of Raiva’s somewhat distraught facial expression. “You know, I once worked with an actress who ate nothing but vegetables for an entire month to maintain the figure a designer requested, just to attend the Autumn Gala.“

Raiva had been reaching for the bread basket next to Cassian, which was promptly removed by him the moment her hand touched the rim.

“You should really wait with that,” he teased her, to Octavia’s evident delight.

And so Raiva sat there, at the head of the table, and silently grumbled as the two pulled baskets and platters out of her hungry reach.