On the Twelfth Night... (Madam Mim and Xana)

[Xanaphia]

Versailles, 1670

“Good evening, my lady,” a voice straining for baritone saluted, bowing at the waist in the mirror. They stood upright then, and examined themself from several angles before exhaling hard and shaking their head.

“For fucks sake, it will never work,” the same voice complained, this time with a distinct, if deep, feminine timbre.

“Now, now. Didn’t you just seduce a buxom blonde the other night?” Another voice, this one undoubtedly male called, leaning against the wall with ankles crossed over one another. Sandy blonde hair and laughing blue eyes met her own earthy brown eyes.

Viola laughed, smirking at the memory, “Bernadette. You might do a bit better with the ladies, if you bothered to learn their names, Antonio.”

“Oh? Is knowing their names how you make them scream as if they were dying?” Antonio jabbed, smirking knowingly.

“There is a reason it’s called une petite morte. And it turns out you can be a much better lover when you don’t think with your cock.” Viola riposted, pining her own dark hair up.

“I can’t help it. It’s so big and thick, it requires all the blood to drain from my head,” Antonio leered, while Viola groaned in disgust.

“You are positively vulgar.”

“Hey, this is how men talk.” He insisted.

“Not gentlemen,” Viola countered.

“Even gentlemen, when there are no ladies present,” Antonio fired back, “You’re going to need to know that, Sebastian.”

Viola sighed, and returned to the mirror. “This is the most absurd plan. How am I supposed to masquerade as my brother until he recovers? It could be a month or two still!”

“It worked on Bernadette,” Antonio reminded her.

“It works in dimly lit taverns, when half the patrons are already drunk.” Viola explained, “My parents should just push back the wedding until Sebastian recovers.”

“Yes, with just enough time for someone else to step in, and sweep Countess Olivia off her feet,” Antonio retorted. Viola just frowned. Courtly politics were delicate matters, and the subterfuge was a necessity, or so her parents had assured her. At first Viola thought it was amusing that the proclivities to pose as a man and take a woman to bed, which her parents normally found distasteful, were the very skills she would use to best serve her family . But as the reality of what she intended to do sunk in, the less she felt she was up to the task.

If only her hot headed brother hadn’t insulted Marquis Hugo, or been foolish enough to accept his challenge to a duel. If only he remembered that the Marquis was a fierce duelist, or remember to protect his flank after a charge. Then he wouldn’t have been grievously injured, and she wouldn’t have to pose as Viscount Sebastian Baccarin on his wedding day.

“Leave me, I need to finish getting ready so I can meet my bride to be,” she sighed, shooing him out.

“I thought I could help you wrap your chest,” Antonio teased, running his hand down her back. With swift reflexes she angled her epee , until the tip was kissing his neck.

“You may be my brother’s best friend, but I’d be well justified to end you now,” Viola threatened lightly. Scoffing, Antonio left the room, and Viola got to work.

---

The white military coat with gold trimming was well tailored to her statuesque figure, helping to cover those feminine curves that hadn’t been tamed by tightly wrapped bandages. Though she was taller than nearly every woman she knew, she was still shorter than her brother, which she made up for with heeled boots. They made her calves look amazing, and much of the nobility were favoring them, especially since Louis XIV started wearing them. Matching white pants finished her outfit, just tight enough to be appropriate, but not to give anything away.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she sighed to herself, looking in the mirror to make last minute adjustments. Now it was time to meet Countess Olivia, the woman who would be her wife.

 

[Madam Mim]

"What if he's old? Or ugly?"

"Viscount Baccarin isn't very much older than you, and by all accounts he's quite handsome. Now you're just making excuses, my lady."

"They're not excuses they're legitimate concerns." The laces of Olivia's corset were jerked punitively and her grip slipped on the post of her bed. "Careful!"

"I'm sorry, my lady. My hands are old and sometimes slip when I'm helping children throwing tantrums." Tess had as good as raised the young Countess and so didn't often meet chastisement for speaking to her like her mother. "Try holding still and having a little gratitude."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Gratitude," she sneered. "For being sold off to the highest bidder, you mean? Yes, Tess, I'm incredibly grateful for being treated like chattle."

"There's that tantrum again," the handmaid warned, but the corset was already tightened and tied. She helped Olivia with her dress, a pale green manteau over pale yellow skirts, and decorated her in pearls and diamonds.

"I look like a jeweled dandelion." Olivia tilted her head in the mirror, turning this way and that, trying to find a way in which she didn't look like a weed. She couldn't find one.

"Nonsense my dear. Dandelions are much richer in color and don't even come close to having your fine bone structure." Tess tilted Olivia's chin up, giving her a proud air. "He'll have no choice but to love you, my lady. Even a marriage based on looks alone can have some moments of happiness in them."

The countess blushed at the implications and opened her mouth to respond, but trumpets announced the Viscount's approach. Her heart leapt into her throat and she and Tess rushed to the window to get a first look at the man who in three days would be her husband. He was accompanied by several men, though the grand figure in the white military uniform was clearly him, but she couldn't see anything of his face with that damnable hat in the way. She lightly chewed her tongue for a few moments, debating whether to go and meet him immediately or to make him wait. Tess seemed to know what she was thinking and squeezed her shoulder gently.

"Best to get it out of the way, my lady," she advised gently. With a deep breath Olivia headed for the door.

From the top of the stairs she could see servants still fussing over Viscount Sebastian Baccarin, and now with his hat off she could see that he was handsome indeed. With another deep breath Olivia prepared herself mentally and glided down the stairs toward her future. She wasn't sure whether she was ever successful in not appearing nervous even with her plastered-on smile as she reached the bottom step.

"Viscount Baccarin, we meet at last."

 

[Xanaphia]

Since the plan to take Sebastian place at Olivia’s side was devised, Viola tried to determine the point of no return. Until that point, the whole plan was a hypothetical, a “what if I tried to seduce my brother’s betrothed?” Until that point none of it was real, or had consequences. She could so no, before that point; she could admit she wasn’t up for the challenge. Until she reached that point, none of it felt genuine. Standing there, in the Countess’ parlor, waiting for her to make an appearance, Viola knew that there was no going back. This was happening, whether she was ready or not.

Viola held her breath as Olivia descended the stairs, finding yet another reason to resent her brother. Whether she resented his gender, or resented him for getting himself injured, so she could have just a taste of his life, before having it cruelly taken away, she couldn’t say. She hadn’t anticipated this obstacle. She had heard the young countess was lovely, but words were wind until there was something definite to back them up.

Don’t curtsy, her mind warned her, as Olivia came face to face with her. Don’t curtsy, it reminded her, while years of etiquette training warred her new role. She hesitated for a moment, and then two, fearing she had already given away the ruse, before she bent at the waist, taking Olivia’s hand and bring it to her lips. The kiss was soft, and quick, pressed against her lips just long enough to catch her scent.

“It is an honor, Countess. “ She responded, in her practiced baritone, forcing an easy smile she didn’t feel. Not that it was difficult to smile at her. If anything it was easy, looking into those eyes. The color of twilight, right before the dawn hit…

“Shall we?” She asked, offering an arm, remembering how these things from when she was in Olivia’s position. Being courted. She watched Olivia’s eyes, for those subtle signs of pretense and feigned interest. Airs she had put on herself, when men came sniffing around. Though, even she could admit Olivia had much more experience in this arena than she did. Doubly so, in their current roles. Viola may have seduced a dozen barmaids under the cover of night, but that hardly felt adequate to her current task.

Still, the betrothal was all but set in stone. And now that Viola was face to face with the woman, she couldn’t help but wonder how she felt about it. If she resisted the idea as much as Viola had, (as if anyone could resist it as much as she did), or if she looked forward to fulfilling her birthright, and securing a good marriage for herself. “How does this day find you, fair Countess?”

 

[Madam Mim]

Sebastian seemed nervous; he appeared to have forgotten to bow. Her nervous, forced smile becoming a little more genuine Olivia curtsied and held out her hand to help him with a prompt, which he took. That was adorable! His lips were soft and she found herself wondering how many women he'd kissed, whether he would find her inexperience at kissing--as well as many other things--as endearing as she'd found his nervousness. His easy smile was charming as well and already Olivia found herself wanting to seek his approval despite her determination to make him seek hers.

"The honor is all mine, Viscount." He was staring into her eyes and it was unnerving. Olivia looked away demurely and took his arm, gently steering him through the parlour, down the hall, to the library. "I am very well, and you may call me Olivia. I feel like we should work on getting on familiar terms, don't you?" She seated herself gracefully on a couch and rang a bell for tea to be brought before studying him for a long moment.

"I'll speak frankly, Viscount Baccarin," she said finally, gesturing for him to sit. Olivia had braced herself against his unaccounted for charm and strengthened her resolve to make him seek her affections and not the other way around. "I am twenty, which means I'm two years past 'old' and my parents are desperate for a match. I've been courted by many and while in the past my happiness has been their primary concern it has now become finding a good match for me. Regardless of what they might tell me, I'm very aware that our meeting is merely a formality; barring some unforeseen severe defect in your character to the tune of Guille de Rais we will be married in three days no matter that they're enforcing it from the distance of Paris. I would very much like to get to know the man I am to call 'husband,' and that leaves little time for superfluous niceties, wouldn't you agree?" She thanked the servant who had brought the tea and began pouring for them both while she continued regardless of whether Sebastian agreed or not.

"So would you like to play twenty questions or simply converse and draw our own conclusions about one another from there?" Olivia smiled pleasantly as she handed him his tea before sipping her own. Her tone had been deceptively light and conversational while her words were firm. Tess was surely eavesdropping and wringing her hands; men didn't like a lady who was so forward, but if Sebastian was all charm and looks and nothing else--or if those charm and looks hid something more sinister beneath--the Countess had only three days to find out.

 

[Xanaphia]

“So you are saying I should hide my most flagrant flaws until we are wed? Well, I suppose if it is but three days,” Viola teased, finding a genuine smile as she tried to relax into her role. Still Olivia regarded her with suspicion, surely looking for some reason to call off the wedding. Viola could sympathize, having spent enough time herself chasing off suitors. To trap this woman in an unhappy marriage made Viola’s stomach, turn and despite her parent’s wishes, she had to do something.

“I am sure your parents just want your happiness, Olivia. It’s just, in their minds, such happiness would derive from marriage. And it may well be the fact that marriage would bring you happiness, but I cannot speak to your mind. So, do you think marriage would bring you happiness?

“I don’t want you to wed me out of obligation. And you hardly know me well enough to decide if you like me or not. Three days really isn’t enough time to make such a decision. At the risk of upsetting my parents I feel I should be honest with you.” Viola cringed, internally, at the word honest, but this was the best way to spare her.

“I am sure you had heard that I was injured, in my recent duel.” It was likely; the fact that Sebastian had been injured was impossible to hide from the upper echelon gossips. The extent of said injuries had been under wraps, literally and figuratively, by her household, but now it was possibly the only way of getting out of this absurd predicament she was in. “This injury will prevent me from…consummating our marriage, on our wedding night, and for a few months after, I am afraid. It would be grounds for delaying the wedding, if not calling it off completely.” Viola sighed, drinking her tea while she sought the words, suddenly embarrassed she had let this all out so quickly. Of course, it was the plan, all along, but she wasn’t supposed to say anything until the vows were said. Perhaps she was still negotiating that point of no return. Or she was jealous of her brother’s undeserved fortune, and wanted to sabotage him.

“My parents will have me disciplined if you call off the marriage on my account, but the thought of forcing this upon you is far more distasteful to me than anything my parents could do. Our marriage might be an obligation, now, but I’d rather it were a happy obligation.”

 

[Madam Mim]

"I think marriage to the right man would bring me happiness," Olivia admitted with a shrug. "It's just a matter of whether you're the right man." She considered him briefly over the rim of her cup. "You're charming enough certainly, but charm does not necessarily a happy marriage make and I find charmers are often liars."

Then the other shoe dropped, so to speak. She had heard of his injury in the duel and her eyes widened when he mentioned that it would prevent him from consummating their marriage. Surely he hadn't...? No, she'd have heard if an accident of that magnitude had happened. "Surely it wouldn't prevent you from consummating it indefinitely?" she asked, concerned. Her eyes searched his body as though she had missed some injury gushing blood over his pristine white uniform. There was no such blood, of course. He suggested that they postpone the marriage if not call it off and she raised an eyebrow briefly; it sounded more like he wanted out of the marriage.

"Sebastian," she put a hand on his knee briefly, "if you don't want to marry me then say so. You are not the one pushing me into this, they are. And if it isn't you it will be someone else. If I tried to call things off they wouldn't listen to me; if you tried to call things off they'd try to reason with you, or with your family. I'm not sure you understand that it isn't up to us anymore. This arrangement has been months in the making and neither of our families are going to back down just because we don't want to do it." Olivia gave him a brief smile. "Wouldn't you like to at least try getting to know one another before trying to call it off? That's all I was asking for."

 

[Xanaphia]

Viola smiled and tried to hide the hard swallow that followed her accusation that charmers were often liars. The truth of it stung, and she wished she could prepare a proper defense. All she could do was provide was provide the visage of honestly, relaying the injuries that would prevent consummation, for time being.

“Not indefinitely, no. A month or two, at most.” She elaborated. Ironically enough, Sebastian may very well be able to consummate a marriage in his present condition, if the bride were to do all the work. It was just the traveling, walking and talking that were impossible for him. Still, she felt embarrassed by Olivia’s eyes upon her, examining her for proof of said injury. Fearful her keen sense would discover the ways in which she was lacking. That fear grew as the countess touched her knee, ever so slightly, as nice as it felt.

“Not trying to call off our betrothal. It just…the thought that you are being forced to the altar against your will is unpleasant. Not to mention a blow to my ego that a woman would not want to marry me, of her own volition.” She laughed, weakly, meeting Olivia’s eyes, feeling as if she could have drowned in them. “I could not forgive myself if I were the cause of your quiet unhappiness.” Her hand came up now, to trace Olivia’s jaw and rest upon her chin, holding her gaze for the moment. Damn Sebastian. He had better be grateful for his divine prosperity. “I’ve always held that there is nothing sweeter than a kiss freely given.”

 

[Madam Mim]

A month or two wasn't so bad then. "I've made do for twenty years, I don't think another month or two will kill me," she admitted with a small smile before explaining that the choice wasn't theirs to make. She laughed when he admitted that it would be a blow to his ego, and that the idea of forcing her to the altar was unpleasant.

"I'm a woman, Sebastian," she said with amusement in her voice. "I endure far more unpleasantries than you would ever imagine, an arranged marriage being the least of those. And if it weren't with you then it would be with someone else. Someone old or ugly or cruel, or any combination of the three. So there's for your ego that I don't think you're any of those." Then Sebastian's dark eyes met hers and she felt her knees go a little weak when he confessed how seriously he took the charge of causing her unhappiness. His hand slid along her jaw and she leaned her cheek into it a little before it slid to her chin. Those eyes...dear God those eyes...

This kiss was not her first kiss ever, but it was one of the few. Sebastian's lips were soft, his scent spicy. Olivia squeezed his knee gently before pulling her lips away. The kiss hadn't lasted more than ten seconds but it had felt like forever. She rolled her bottom lip over her teeth and unsuccessfully tried to hide a shy but pleased smile.

"Was that sweet enough for you?" Though she was quietly horrified that she had been so bold as to kiss him before they were even married, without asking, without more than an implied prompt, within half an hour of meeting him, Olivia felt like she successfully hid her horror beneath a veneer of assuredness. It was a nice kiss, actually, and she in fact wanted to kiss him again. Better to ask this time though. "Or shall I try again to convince you that you're not the one holding a knife to my throat?"

 

[Xanaphia]

Viola hadn’t intended to kiss Olivia, even as she caressed her face and spoke of kissing. But she closed her eyes and closed the distance between them, and like the gentlemen Viola was supposed to be, she kissed her back. A bold move, even as it remained chaste, just lips brushing and pressed together. And the adorably shy look on her face afterwards was infectious, as Viola found herself giggling. Not exactly a manly gesture so she reached for her tea to cover for the lapse, unable to look away from the countess.

"Was that sweet enough for you?"

“Like the first taste of summer strawberries,” Viola replied, finding herself unable to stop smiling at Olivia, the woman’s self confidence an incredibly alluring trait. Just as alluring as the creamy valley of cleavage revealed by her corset.

"Or shall I try again to convince you that you're not the one holding a knife to my throat?"

“Far be it from me to deny my lady wife anything.” Viola said, cupping Olivia’s face this time, “My soon to be wife, that is…” She pressed her lips against Olivia’s this time, teasing her with the feel of her tongue. Gently beseeching entrance to her mouth, but not moving further than which Olivia was ready.

Your brother’s wife, her mind reminded her, as she moved to deepen the kiss, causing her to pull back. Sebastian was clearly a fool, getting himself injured before he could taste her lips. The mad fantasy of seducing Olivia away from her brother entered her mind, leaving as quickly as it entered as reality set in. It would never work, not for any conceivable amount of time.

“Perhaps we should restrain our passion, until our wedding night? Temperance is a virtue, after all.” Viola suggested, punctuating the request with a soft kiss on the cheek

 

[Madam Mim]

He was giggling! Oh sure, he hid it with a sip of tea but Olivia had caught it, and she wasn't able to catch herself when she found herself falling in love with him right there. Sebastian's smile was almost giddy and only made her grin more widely and look away shyly. The entire point is to fall in love, she had to remind herself even as she desperately tried to stop the sudden tide of affection for him. Tess had chided her as they talked over and over it for being determined not to like her future husband, and now it seemed there was nothing at all to dislike.

Then they were kissing again. Olivia's brain went fuzzy as he cupped her cheek and pressed his lips to hers. Sebastian's tongue gently begged entrance to her mouth but Olivia hesitated, parting her lips only a little; this was now out of her tiny realm of experience and she wasn't entirely certain what to do. Her dilemma was solved when he pulled back from their kiss, allowing her to once again grin shyly and turn her gaze to the carpet. Her thighs quaked, her pulse raced, and her face burned. The Countess was completely smitten.

"Oh so you've decided to keep me then, have you?" Olivia teased, finally looking back up at him just in time for his lips to catch her cheek. Her flush only deepened and she gently twisted the fabric of her skirt between her hands. "Have a care, Viscount; deny me nothing and you're likely to have completely spoiled me before the month is out." Clearing her throat, she sipped at her tea with unsteady hands, the adrenaline of the sudden displays of passion still coursing through her veins.

"Well," she said after a few moments of silence, "since we can't simply sit here tasting strawberries all afternoon, pleasant though that may be, would you care for a walk in the gardens? We can get to know one another a little better, now that we've decided we don't despise each other. There are a few beds out there I tend to myself, though of course the gardens as a whole are far too large for only me."

 

[Xanaphia]

“I’d love to see your garden. The garden outside that is,” Viola couldn’t help teasing one last time, finishing off her tea before standing. Offering a hand, she helped Olivia up, folding Olivia’s arm in with her own. “Tell me, what do you tend to in your garden? And how do you tend it? I have a hard time imagining you get down in the dirt, pulling up weeds, and the like.”

Making their way outside, Viola was immediate hit with the scent of orange blossoms. She had heard Versailles was famous for its orange groves, with a whiff, she could understand why. The bouquet of floral and citrus scents put Viola at ease. The aromas, and Olivia’s pleasant warmth, that was. They were indeed hitting it off, despite whatever hesitations Viola may have found in the matter.

So you are good courtship, she heard in her mind, in her mother’s judgmental voice. Viola laughed into her closed mouth at the thought. Yes, turns out I’ve been on the wrong side of it this whole time. While her parents were just barely tolerant of her little nighttime excursions, she knew they would never accept that she was only attracted to women, and that the thought of taking a man into her bed was nauseating. Of course her mother assured her that her desire didn’t matter so much, just that she performed her wifely duty.

Still, she didn’t want to think of the unpleasant things her future (may have) held. Instead she wanted to focus on the lovely woman on her arm, the lovely woman she still need to ensure was enamored with her ungrateful brother.

“Do you spend much of your time out here, Olivia?”

 

[Madam Mim]

Olivia's face was nearly purple with embarrassment when he mentioned which garden he would like to see. While she was in general naive to the ways of men and women--excepting the basic mechanics of it all--she knew perfectly well what Sebastian meant. She cleared her throat and tried to suppress the flush as she took his hand and then his arm.

"If you were hoping to hear I garden in the nude I'm sorry to say you'll be quite disappointed," she said with a smile. "I have a dress designated only for gardening. It's light and breezy but hopelessly dirt-stained." She chuckled a little as she steered him towards the large French doors leading to the gardens.

"I'm out here every day the sun shines and the ground is warm. The gardeners allocated me several large plots, actually," she informed him as they stepped out onto the veranda. Gravel crunched underfoot as they made their way into the gardens and she began steering him towards her personal gardening plots. "They're out of the way, where they won't ruin the landscaping and present an eyesore to visitors. In one I grow only herbs, from which I make tinctures, teas, and soaps. It's large for an herb garden, but what I don't use for myself and the staff I give to the shops in town for them to sell. In another plot I grow only food. Most of that is used here, feeding the servants, and I eat a little of it. Any surplus and leftovers Tess--my handmaid--and I will take into town to give to the homeless and hungry. Nobody there should go to bed with an empty stomach when I have so much here." She glanced sideways at Sebastian. Many aristocrats would argue that the power to toss out perfectly good food was one of the things that separated them from the common riffraff and she watched carefully to try and determine whether he were one of those aristocrats. "The third plot I'm a little selfish and keep the vast majority for myself," she continued. "The third plot is my personal flower garden."

Olivia guided them around a corner in the hedges and there was an explosion of color in all the green. At the far end of the garden bright blue morning glories climbed a wrought iron arch which was flanked by daisies and calla lilies. Several small access paths ran through large flower beds full of lilies and crocuses, lady slippers and roses, bluebells and hyacinth, and several other varieties. The well-planned garden revealed that the Countess favored purples, blues, and white, but the cool colors were interrupted pleasantly by bursts of red, orange, and yellow. Excitedly she took Sebastian's hand in hers and pulled him down the right-hand path where at the end of the bed in pride of place several stalks of flowers stood seven or eight feet high. Olivia had to stretch her arm and push herself to her toes to touch the head of the shortest one and looked over her shoulder at her betrothed, giddy as a young girl might be.

"Aren't they marvelous?" she asked as she lowered herself back down onto flat feet. "They're from America. I was afraid it might be too cold here to grow them, but the weather seems to suit them just fine. They're called sunflowers, and don't they just look it?" Olivia turned to Sebastian with the excited look in her eye, a look expectant of praise found only in the very young and the very earnest. She was clearly very proud of her garden, particularly the sunflowers, and excited to share her accomplishments with her husband to be.

 

[Xanaphia]

After briefly picturing her nude among the plants, on her hands and knees with flecks of dirt stuck to her smooth skin, Viola shook her head. watching the light in Olivia’s eyes as she spoke of her garden. Her enthusiasm really was infectious. Viola herself could hardly tell the difference between lilies and lilacs, (though she was fairly certain lilacs were purple), but as Olivia spoke, Viola could hardly imagine a more interesting topic.

So she continued to pepper Olivia with questions, giving the woman a chance to go into details about her hobby. Selfish as it might have been, Viola didn’t really care about the answers, and really only half listened. Instead she was enamored with Olivia’s unrestrained joy, the pride she took in her garden and plants. The glow on her features, as she described each plant and its peculiar idiosyncrasies. The vibrancy of the garden seemed to bring Olivia to life. Dutifully, she followed her betrothed to the sunflowers, laughing lightly as Olivia strained to reach one.

“They are something. I wonder if our good king knows about them yet? He really seems to be of the opinion that the sun revolves around him. I’m sure the palace of Versailles will be overflowing with them, if he were to find out. Though, they would still pale in comparison to yours.” Viola sat on the nearby bench, finding she needed a moment to catch her breath. The damned bandages, as bad as a corset, without the benefit of an excuse to be winded. And still, Olivia was fine, carrying about as if she weren’t bothered by the tight bindings.

“Tell me, Olivia, might I share a queer thought with you, pertaining to the Americas?” Viola asked, clearing her throat as she felt the strain of maintaining her baritone. “The Spanairds claim they discovered it, yes? Discovered this new land, and the population of natives who call it home. Now Olivia, I must be mistaken, but it occurs to me, if these explorers discovered a land with people already living there, it wasn’t really discovered at all? Or at the very least, Spaniards can’t claim to discover a land where civilization is already present. It’s the height of arrogance. It’s just like men to discover a thing people have known for years, and take credit for it.”

 

[Madam Mim]

Olivia prattled on about the different types of flowers, answering Sebastian's questions and growing more and more obviously excited. She did notice that he didn't seem to care particularly about the answers to his questions, but rather the way she looked as she answered them. She blushed as he stared, but didn't bring it up for now. Taking his hand and tugging lightly at his arm she pulled him over to the sunflowers, explaining where they came from and how they grew. She frowned briefly when Sebastian mentioned the king, then laughed at the implications of him finding out about sunflowers.

"He'd be disappointed that they wouldn't follow him. See the way the flowers are facing now?" Olivia pointed to the closest one. "When the sun moves from morning to afternoon, they'll follow it. So this evening they'll be facing the other way. It's fascinating!"

Sebastian sat on a nearby bench and Olivia followed, frowning. She watched his face as he set forth his question about the New World, looking for signs of pain in his face. "Very like," she agreed, still watching him carefully. "Just like Spaniards, especially. Sebastian are you alright? How are your wounds?" She took his hand in both of hers and scooted closer, resting them in her lap and looking concerned. "Would you like to go back inside to sit?"

 

[Xanaphia]

Olivia took notice of her difficulty, but fortunately enough for Viola, she assumed it was related to her injury. “So sorry, Olivia. I am finding myself winded more easily as my wounds heal. No need to go back inside, the fresh air is certainly helping, if anything.” She smile up at Olivia, scooting over to give her some room to join her on the bench, if she so desired.

“Tell me more about the sunflowers. Where did you get the idea to plant them? Did you have them brought from the new world specifically, or did you discover them among the trade goods?” She tried to take the focus off of herself, give Olivia another excuse to gush about this subject she had taken to so passionately. Mostly because she wanted to listen, and not speak herself. Speaking as her brother was growing more difficult, and she could feel her throat becoming more parched. It had been over an hour so far, and usually when she played this ruse, she had already sealed the deal at this point, or her target was drunk enough that she did notice if Viola slipped into her natural voice. And of course drinking alcohol during certainly helped.

Fortunately for her, As Olivia was winding down from her explanations, a servant approached them, apologizing profusely for interrupting their private time, and informing them that lunch was ready to be served, waiting only on their presence. So Viola stood and offered Olivia her arm once more, as they made their way back inside, this time surrounded by her men and Olivia’s ladies. Viola was quick to pull out Olivia’s chair, hoping she approved of such chivalrous displays. Viola took her seat next to her bride to be. Glasses were filled with wine, and Coq au Vin was generously served to each guest, with a side of fresh vegetable that Viola recognized from the garden. Tapping her glass before anyone started in Viola stood to give the toast.

“To the lovely and generous Countess Olivia, the woman I am looking forward to making my wife!”

 

[Madam Mim]

Olivia recognized his desire to rest a little, regardless of what he said, and so indulged him for a while. She chatted animatedly about how she had seen a sketch of sunflowers brought back by explorers in the New World and had just known she had to have some. She excused herself for being rude before standing on the bench--though in truth she was fond of climbing trees and other such unladylike things--reach the head of one of the sunflowers then stepping down. She'd watched squirrels and birds crack open the seeds as she did now and eat the kernels, which she shared with Sebastian. Finally she'd run out of things to say and was preparing for what would hopefully be a comfortable silence when a servant came to bid them come to lunch.

"I'm afraid I've babbled on," she said as she took Sebastian's arm. "One of those useless females i suppose, endlessly chattering. Since we spent the morning on me, after lunch I want to know all about you."

When they came to the dining room Olivia knew her parents would be mortified at what a terrible hostess she'd been; she had forgotten all about Sebastian's men. Fortunately her ladies had covered for her and she thought she even saw Lady Marie smiling flirtatiously at one of the men, who smiled back. When Sebastian toasted her, however, she blushed a little in embarrassment. Some ladies enjoyed being the center of attention; Olivia rarely did. Her friends, who knew this, exchanged glances before watching to see what she would do. Suitors in the post who had tried to flatter her with public attention had fared poorly.

"And to charming and handsome Viscount Sebastian," she added, "who I'm sure will make a most excellent husband." The others echoed their toasts and raised their glasses. "Please don't do that again unless there's very good reason," Olivia murmured into her drink before taking a sip.

The coq au vin was divine and the company agreeable. Olivia knew she got on with her betrothed well enough, but she also knew that his friends could dissuade him from the match or at least from liking her. Therefore she spent the meal in lively conversation with his men, though her attention couldn't help but keep wandering back to Sebastian himself.

 

[Xanaphia]

Viola could feel the color drain from her face as Olivia murmured into her glass. She had embarrassed the woman, and that embarrassment now transferred over to her. “So sorry, my lady. It won’t happen again.” She wanted Olivia to like her. Well, Sebastian. Her as Sebastian. Or maybe just her.

Your brother’s betrothed, her mind hissed at her. A clever, and charming and witty and lovely woman, who deserved happiness in this life. Could Sebastian give that to her? Possibly…possibly. Could she give it to her? Viola wasn’t sure. She wanted to, wanted to try, wanted to spend a lifetime trying. But then she would never be Viola again.

Viola drank deeply of her wine. She was being ridiculous. She had just met this woman, there was no reason to have fallen so hard for her. Perhaps it was the life she had fallen in love with. The kind of life where she could take a wife, a wife who would dote on about plants and flowers.

Sighing, she pushed the pleasant fantasy form her mind, mentally filing all the information she had gathered this day. She needed to start a journal, she noted, cutting into her chicken. With all the important details Sebastian would need once he returned. Little things, like Olivia’s love of gardening, and her dislike of toasts about herself. She could probably write some letters, to “Viola” of course, so he would know some things before he even arrived.

“Olivia, You are an only child, yes?,” Viola asked, spearing a green bean with her fork before bringing it to her mouth. “My sister, Viola,won’t be present to attend the wedding, unfortunately. Scaring off her own courters, no doubt. Though she was hoping to visit for a time. Once we were settled, a month or so after the wedding.”

 

[Madam Mim]

Sebastian paled and immediately apologized, which Olivia accepted with a nod and a gracious smile. She enjoyed the meal by his side and imagined how pleasant it would be to spend nearly every meal by his side. He was such a sweet gentleman, after all; he would likely be a lenient husband even if they grew bored of each other, which was all she could really ask for. For now, however, Olivia pushed away thoughts of the long term and enjoyed the whirlwind excitement of infatuation.

"Yes, unfortunately I'm my parents' only surviving child," she confirmed. "Much to my father's sorrow my brothers were stillborn." She didn't mention that this had caused a great deal of tension in her parents' marriage, particularly when she had come into the world squalling and healthy between two pregnancies which had ended in stillborn males. He'd learn that in time, or at least before her parents came to stay with them. At the mention of his sister she smiled.

"Well it's a shame she won't make it for the wedding, but I did hear a bit about her," she replied. "By all accounts a fiery young woman; I can't wait to meet her! If she's anything like you we'll get along famously, I think. I've always wanted a sister. She'll have to stay a month at least. I won't hear of anything less." Olivia grinned before taking another bite if chicken. "What's she like? Second-hand accounts are one thing, but you must know her better than anyone."

 

[Xanaphia]

Viola laughed, as Olivia asked about her, to her. “She is as much of the rumors say she is. If you are n old maid, she is ancient, being two years your senior, and no suitors. Though, I don’t God’s yet created a man who could woo her,” Viola laughed, caressing Olivia’s hand. “Truthfully, it part of the reason my parents are pushing so hard for this marriage. Though, I am certainly far luckier than she is, to be matched with such a lovely betrothed.”

“I think she will find that quite pleasing, to stay a month. Though, I think you may be disappointed to look for a sister in her. When we were growing up everyone who visited swore there were twin boys running around the Baccarin estate. And despite growing into a woman, she didn’t quite grow out of that tomboy phase.”

The meal was finished, and now the woman and the men paired off to enter the salon. “Tell me, Olivia, do you read much? I confess to be quite the voracious reader myself. I’ve been reading Rene Descartes, who has some fascinating insights. Of course the churchs decries it as heresy, even as he praises the glory of God. Of course, the church isn’t too fond of independent thought.” Viola remarked, leading Olivia by the arm. She herself was a believer, even as she found she had trouble with the specifics of church hierarchy. “I hope I don’t offend.”

 

[Madam Mim]

Olivia smiled at the compliments, but shook her head. "If she looks anything like you then she's lovelier than I, and any man would be lucky to have her. She deserves a man who's up to her standards. So many women these days will settle for any husband who comes along, with no thought to how they might get along or even if he's worth marrying. Several of my suitors in the past have been stupid or dull, or had no humor about them whatsoever. I admit that I am shallow enough to care about whether they were old or ugly, even if I wasn't looking for a Greek god, but even the youngest, handsomest men can be complete bores. And that, my dear Viscount, will never do."

"So let your sister keep looking, I say," she declared boldly, "until she finds a man who suits her as much as I seem to have found one who suits me." Olivia smiled and glanced over to make sure the others were engaged in conversation before leaning in to peck him shyly on the cheek. "I'm glad I dismissed those other suitors, Sebastian. God was keeping a match for me, just as He's keeping a match for Viola. Trust in that. And if she'll be a brother more than a sister than so be it!"

Sebastian offered her an arm before leading Olivia into the salon with the others. She raised her eyebrows mildly at his criticism of the church and stepped carefully around the issue. She didn't want to be heard condoning such criticism and facing accusations of being some heathen Protestant. "I think if God shows us a path," she said carefully, "then we must take it. There are many paths in Catholicism, I think, but sometimes our Holy Pontiff likes to make sure some paths are better-lit than others. We must rely on God to work through His divinely inspired children to find the right path in the dark." She smiled nervously before glancing over at the others, unsure of who she could trust amongst both his friends and her own.

"I confess though, what I do read are mostly novels, plays, and poetry. De Bergerac and the like; Shakespeare and Chaucer; Milton and Keating. You may think me a traitor to my country, but I'm afraid I've fallen in love with the English poets. I adore English and Irish poetry." Olivia skillfully stepped away from the topic of religion for now, though she would have been delighted to discuss it were they alone, and brought the conversation back to books. "Do you only like philosophy, or do the sciences and arts interest you as well?"

 

[Xanaphia]

“I agree there are many paths to God. I have always felt that God is too great to confine within the stone walls of the church. Even if some of the cathedrals are rather extravagant,” Viola suggested, feeling her blood pump as the possibility of a theology debate arose. But she stopped as she took in the concern in Olivia’s eyes, darting about the room. It was a risky subject to discuss, in mixed company. “Let’s save the religious discussion for after the wedding, yes? Tell me what you like to read.”

Nodding intently as Olivia listed off her favored authors, surprised to find English among them, Viola made a curious sound in her mouth. “I’ll admit, my dear Olivia, my English is not so good. Perhaps you can tutor me, after we are wed?” Violas asked, kissing her hand to seal the offer. “I have read some Shakespeare, translated, of course, just to see what the fuss is about. Though, my understanding is that much is lost when you remove the native tongue form his works. Otherwise, I am not much of a poetry reader,” Viola lied, recalling her beloved copy of Sapphic poetry, with the binding falling apart from being read and over read through the decades. It wasn’t completely a lie, however. Sebastian didn’t read poetry, and she was asking Sebastian, after all.

“Oh yes, I simply adore the sciences. Descartes, if you don’t mind my retreading old ground, has some fascinating theories about the nature of matter, and how everything is made of infinitesimally small particles. That it is their size and shape of these particles that determines how things taste, or smell or feel,” Viola explained, remembering the taste of Olivia’s lips, the scent of her hair, and the feel of her soft skin. Imagine how of parts of her body might taste, like her lovely slender neck. Or how her breasts might feel, cupped in her hand. Or how her desire might smell, if Viola were between the woman’s thighs. Clearing her throat, and her mid, Viola continued, “Of course, there are many schools of thought. There is a catholic priest, Gassendi, who rejects Descartes mechanical reductionism…”

Viola lost herself in the discussion explaining the origin’s of Gassendi’s work in Greek thought, and attempt to reconcile the science with God’s presence. Before Sebastian’s injury, she had planned to go to Montpelier, to attend university there, under her brother’s name. She still wasn’t exactly sure how she was to pay for such a thing, but it was her intention. After Sebastian’s injury, her parents had promised that if she secured this marriage for her brother, they would fund her education. So Viola had considered this a test of her abilities to pass as male, but she was discovering that was far more intimate that she could expect at university. Still If she could make these couples months with Olivia, she could fool the world.

“Sorry, you will have to cut me off once I get started on the sciences, love, or I will never stop.”

 

[Madam Mim]

Olivia smiled when Sebastian asked her to tutor him in English. "My parents insisted I learn English, Italian, and Latin since the Pope is Italian, the Bible is Latin, and English, they say, is catching on like a plague and would be useful to know just in case." She nodded when he mentioned that some of Shakespeare was lost in translation. "His word play is often exquisite if you know the language. Although he can be a bit obscene at times. But they say his queen loved him so I can't imagine finding too much fault in it. I'll have to turn you to the way of the poets; they see the world differently, in a way I wish I could express as elegantly as they do."

But then Sebastian began going on about Descartes and the reconciliation of science and reason. Her tutor had touched briefly on that age-old struggle, but her betrothed seemed to have studied more in-depth. Olivia leaned her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand, watching him talk with rapt attention. She didn't know half of what he was talking about--though she was sure she'd understand it if she cared to learn--but Sebastian's passion for what he loved made her smile. If his passion for his wife were half as intense she would count herself a very lucky woman indeed, and it was so refreshing to find a man so interested in learning.

"Sorry, you will have to cut me off once I get started on the sciences, love, or I will never stop."

Her heart fluttered when he called her love like that, so casually, so intimately. But Olivia shook her head and only smiled more widely. "I admit I can't entirely follow since I've not studied it. My tutor was never half so interesting as you are, so I never paid attention." She took his hands gently in hers. "After the wedding, I'll teach you English and turn your heart to the poets. You can turn my mind to the philosophers and the scientists. I've long been of the opinion that one can take an interest in anything, so long as one has an engaging teacher." She glanced at the books in the salon before her eyes settled on one section she'd never really paid much attention to then returned back to him. "And we can both learn Greek, if you don't know it already, to read those philosophers in their own words. If Shakespeare gets lost in translation I can only imagine they might."

"But what else do you do for fun, when you're not studying?" Olivia asked when her eyes fell over his shoulder on a game of cards. "I've gone on and on about my garden and my crafts. What do you do? Hunt? Duel?" Her eyes flicked over his torso again as though searching out his injuries.

 

[Xanaphia]

“Well, I read Latin as well as Spanish and Italian. It seemed easier to grasp that English with all its conflicting rules and nonsensical grammar. I know a bit of Greek, and see no reason why we couldn’t study it together. I have to say, it impresses and pleases me to find that my bride is so interested in expanding her mind,” Viola explained kissing Olivia’s hand again, glorying in her softness. Wishing they were alone so she could steal more kisses.

“Well, clearly I duel,” Viola said, motioning towards her chest, ostensibly bandaged due to her injuries, “and I thought I was better at it. I hadn’t lost a duel before Marquis Hugo utterly embarrassed me, and certainly not so badly. I may have to consider my dueling career over, as of now,” she explained. Sebastian’s dueling career had damn well better be over, after that stupid mess he played. Whether she would still duel in his name, she wasn’t sure. She was better than him, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Not as strong admittedly, but faster. And faster was more important than stronger, when it came to fencing. “I certainly have to be more careful, now that I have someone to care for. Someone who needs a husband, and not a silly boy with a sword.”

She took note of Olivia looking at the card game starting behind them, “What are they playing? Quadrille? Do you play much cards, sweet Olivia? I’ll admit to indulging in the occasional game or two. Shall we join them?” Moving closer, closer enough she could feel her cheek against her own, and smell her hair, she whispered in Olivia’s ear, “Or she we sneak off again, and taste more strawberries?”

 

[Madam Mim]

"It impresses and pleases me equally to find a husband who encourages it," Olivia returned, grinning when he kissed her hand. "Many men think women are brainless, with no hope of retaining anything not worth gossiping about. Some don't think a woman should get an education at all. But we are, as the common folk say, the 'idle rich'; what else ought I to do with my time? Sit around with my needle and thread and wait to die?"

She turned his hand over in hers, playing with his fingers and kissing them occasionally. They were slight and slender, but that was no matter. A man needn't have broad hands or thick fingers to be a good man or a satisfying lover. She absently pressed his cuticles gently back into their beds as he started speaking again, though quickly realized what she was doing, that she might be becoming too intimate too quickly by grooming him, and stopped. Too keep her hands occupied she simply played her fingertips against his playfully.

"I'm glad you can care for me," she said softly with a smile. Olivia squeezed his hand gently. "If it's something you enjoy, perhaps you can teach me? I know it's not ladylike but fencing just looks so beautiful. Like art." Sebastian noticed her glance over his shoulder but she shook her head when asked whether she played much cards. "I'll play when my ladies like, but I need to keep my hands busy. Cards are for idle times in the winter, meant for gossip and smalltalk." But then he leaned in, their cheeks touching, and whispered in her ear. Olivia shivered and bit her lip as his warm breath curled around her ear.

"I admit to having much more of an interest in strawberries than in cards," she admitted. Even if she'd been trying to deny that she was smitten, no such thing could be made now as they made excuses to sneak off alone together. With another squeeze of his hand Olivia disentangled her fingers from his and rose. "I don't believe I had time to show you the vegetable garden before lunch, Viscount. Would you like to see?"

Once she had his arm she hurried Sebastian back out to the gardens. Olivia did take him out to the vegetable garden, via the flower garden and the herb garden. The vegetable garden, however, had tall tomato plants and corn stalks, trellised cucumber and squash vines creating shady spots, and yes even trellised strawberries amongst its shorter, ground-dwelling brethren. Feigning ignorance the countess pulled her betrothed over to a vine and plucked off a ripe strawberry.

"They say my strawberries are the sweetest for fifty leagues," she said sweetly, holding the fruit out to Sebastian.

 

[Xanaphia]

“You’ve an interest in fencing?” Viola asked in earnest surprise. “You’ve more in common with my sister that I realized. Perhaps once my injuries heal, I can show you a thing or two. Viola as well, when she comes to stay. I’m sure she would like that, another woman she can duel with.” She watch Olivia pick and play with her hands and fingers and nails, and it was nice, how soft hers were. It was nice, how she doted on her. Well, on Sebastian. She had explored women, known them intimately, known parts of their bodies they themselves hardly knew. But she had never had a chance to explore these quiet moments of closeness. This was true intimacy, and she felt warm as Olivia groomed her.

She was glad then, when Olivia suggested they check out the vegetable garden. She rose to follow, trying not to look like they were rushing to be alone. But Olivia pulled her along, and Viola could not deny her own eagerness. To taste her again, or hold her in her arms. And there was a deal of privacy, between the corn stalks and tomato plants. She watched Olivia pick a strawberry off the vine, and offer it.

"They say my strawberries are the sweetest for fifty leagues."

“I can hardly imagine anything sweeter,” she murmured, voice husky, and she took the hand holding the strawberry in her own. Amber eyes locked on Olivia’s as she brought the fruit to her lips, teeth sinking into the dulcet flesh, running pink down her chin. Still holding her hand in one of her own, Viola’s other arm snaked around Olivia, pulling her closer. She took the remaining half of the strawberry from Olivia’s finger, gently, and brought it to her lips, rubbing the juices along Olivia’s lips. Viola let her take a bite, if she desired, and then pulled her body tight against her own, pressing lips against strawberry stained lips. She let the kiss linger for a moment, before seeking entrance to Olivia’s mouth, testing her betrothed’s comfort.

Pulling back, but still holding her close, Viola confessed, “My sweet Olivia, I think I am falling for you. Beautiful and smart, and passionate, and modest. I thank God that I am so blessed to be joined with you.” The words were not lie, Viola knew, and that was the worst part. Olivia was amazing, and she would never truly be hers. This was not her life. It would never be her life. She pushed down the distaste of that thought with another taste of Olivia’s lips.