#anywhere

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An aside, at Silverwolf Barony, the night of the fete, the hour of the cocktails.

The party seems to be going well, thought the lord of the manor is absent. Not especially conspicuously absent, but he has stepped aside to talk business with the Varich..es...es... and Calanthe is left to carry the thread of conversation on her own. She is up to it, suggesting conversation on matters of courtly rumour, of vineyards that may or may not be purchased, sharing dismay over how difficult this or that is during the pandemic.

But the keen eyes of the Emissary may note her patience wearing thinner, as she taps her delicately manicured fingernails (apparently, Calanthe had no trouble finding a salon that would cater to her, despite pandemic rulings), tap tapping against the side of her wineglass and watches the hallway.

Oof. I can't say that's somebody I really WANT to talk to, but...duty calls... Sylvi takes a deep breath, puts on her most diplomatic poise, and approaches. "Pardon me, Dame Calanthe."

She looks up, and gives the Emissary a practiced smile. “Miss Sylvi, so glad you could make it.”

Are you though? Sylvi thinks, but her smile is adequately practiced as well. She dips a slight curtsey. "The invitation was a pleasant surprise. It is good to see more of your people after meeting them so briefly at Pennons. SilverWolf is a beautiful hold."

The smile settles in a little more comfortably at the praise. “That she is. I wish we’d have more nights like this.” Soft conversation, pleasant smells from the food and cut floral arrangements, a glass of wine - does Sylvi have a glass?

She does, and she sips from it easily. "This isn't a common occurrence?"

“Alas, no. Not that we couldn’t handle the hosting expense. Silverwolf is QUITE self sustaining.” Proudly. “It’s more... finding the time. Or convincing those who have the time, that hosting is worth the time. Our thanes just grumble about being taken away from their patrols - really, you’d think with DarkGate there now, they’d relax and let them handle that.”

Sipping her wine. “They’re a martial-minded set of fellows there, if they want to stomp and grunt up and down the property line, that’s less time we need to spend doing it. Assuming that they remain allies, that is.”

And a smile. “But there is no reason why they shouldn’t, after all.”

"Oh, yes, it's helpful to have neighbors with strengths to compensate where one lacks," Sylvi replies, light and airy in tone. "I had a chance to get a tour before, courtesy of Thane Danica. Interesting trod."

“A gas station mailbox is hardly an alluring gateway to a Ball, but one does with what the dreaming gives them.” Loftily, says the lady who looks like she’s never gone without for a day in her life.

And another glance at the hallway, giving her glass a swish and pondering if she wants to refill it.

Sylvi follows her glance. "Negotiations?" she asks.

“Likely, and then he’ll talk all night about this dog or that, if no one stops him.” A small nose wrinkle. “Where do your hobbies lie, when not being an Emissary?” Curious, as she looks over Sylvi’s voile for the evening, as though clues may appear.

Her gown is simple in style, but elegant for all that, and reveals very well-toned arms and calves. Well, troll, of course, but this shows more of graceful athleticism than sheer bulk. "Oh, I can't imagine my hobbies would be much interest to you. I don't know if you saw me perform at Pennons, but I'm a cheerleader when we actually have sporting events to cheer. And I'm a fair hand at cosmetics," she adds modestly.

This actually DOES seem to interest her. “I considered cheer squad when I was in high school, but... the uniforms were incredibly garish. Yellow and orange, if you can imagine with my complexion?” She can, it wouldn’t be the most complementary to be sure.

A sympathetic look. "That's unfortunate."

She also wonders exactly how long ago that was.

"Ours are green and white, so..." A bit of a shrug, "It works."

It’s hard to tell. Calanthe looks like she may be in her early twenties, but she has that ageless quality of sidhe and those who spend time in a freehold.

“Still, goooo, Wildcats, am I right?” A faint chuckle. “I miss the easy camaraderie of school - it was a ready made social club curated just for us. We’re sadly isolated out here.”

"Well, current events have isolated us quite a bit, again," she points out.

“Yes, and no. The mortals, surely. But the more that we fae are kept apart, the more we’ll seek out our own, and perhaps it will be a busy social winter after all. At least most of our hobbies have not been affected. And work, well, busier than ever.”

Sylvi doesn't point out that her school's team is the 'Indians' or was until a couple of weeks ago. They're currently between names, so...the interruption is probably just as well.

"For many, yes. May I ask what work you do?"

“Well, what I enjoy is hawking. But one cannot ride and fly all day, or even the most lovely bird would soon pale. Dr. Candace Evergreen, at your service. I am a psychologist.”

Sylvi blinks. "Oh!"

“Oh?” She leans in and murmurs as though sharing a bit of a secret. “I did fudge a little at the PhD - eight years, really, for a degree? But the field is filled with potential. So many people who just need to pour out their feelings. Truly under estimated as a resource for dreamers.”

Sylvi blinks and tries not to squirm away from the unpleasantness of what she's hearing. "I...see."

"I...guess I just assumed that having to spend all that time studying science would get kind of banal...but maybe that's just me." A self-effacing grin.

“Don’t get me wrong, I did go to school, even if I didn’t waste a decade away as a resident. Dream psychology is a fascinating field, as is hypnotic therapy, Rorschach tests, and the art that some create if given a brush while pouring out their emotions...”

“A little fuddle and a little funds here and there, and you’d be surprised how quickly you can get a degree.”

Sipping her wine, rather proud of her accomplishments. She DID have to work at that.

"Well...that's true, I suppose." She smiles and sips.

"I do agree that the art therapy stuff sounds interesting."

“Would you like to see some of my work?” A smile!

"Your work? You paint as well?"

A small laugh, waving that off. “Oh, no. My dreamers. I keep the best of their creations.” One might imagine the art that pours fourth from breaking down emotional barriers. It could go... any number of ways.

“I do also collect artwork as well. Most of what you see here, I curated.”

A blink. "Oh. I...is it okay for you to share them? I mean...confidentiality and all?"

A small smile, like she’s sharing a little secret between them, just us girls. “Well, they were gifts from my patients, after all. No harm in that.”

A pause, then Sylvi smiles. "That's lovely of you to offer, but I'm reluctant to completely abandon my boyfriend." She nods to where Colton is across the room.

"Perhaps another time."

A nod, accepting without rancor. “If you know any promising artists, please let me know. I am always on the lookout for new work. And if we do continue to have guests, we may open up more of the halls, and I could put more of my collection on display.” She clarifies, “Not my patient’s work, that is. Those are... not classically admirable, but they feed the soul, one might say.”

“Please, enjoy. And Tell the Storm I said hello.”

"I'm sure that's true. And hopefully the art provides a benefit to them as well. Dame Calanthe, it's been lovely to talk with you." A curtsey as Sylvi withdraws.

And then, the Baron and his Varich friends return.... and draw attention, as sidhe are wont to do.

It doesn't really look like a retreat...unless you squint at it just right.

Luckily, Calanthe’s eyes are back on her Baron and Sir Sergei... lingering a touch on the two males... and narrowing a little at Nadeen. But maybe that’s just the light.

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