79 Zi'da
The trip from Andaris hadn’t been a wholly pleasant one. Valeria had never been a fan of travel but at least when there was something good to look forward to at the end of it, she could contemplate the inevitable award on the other end. Unfortunately, she didn’t think that her mother had any such reward in mind and so instead of eagerly anticipating her journey’s end, she dreaded it.There were the usual things that made such travel exceedingly uncomfortable. There was very little freedom of movement although being on a boat was certainly a vast improvement on being confined to a carriage. The noblewoman wasn’t obliged to remain in her cabin – although she was almost surprised that her mother hadn’t ordered her to be kept in it – and instead was able to wander around the boat, stand on the deck and watch the scenery go slowly by, provided that she wasn’t in anyone’s way of course.
There weren’t many other passengers heading to Burhan – not that she could blame them – and thus, she largely had the company of a small but able-bodied group of sailors. Most of them were Biqaj, at least in part, which wasn’t wholly surprising giving that they were the race most inclined to take to the water. For the most part, she left them alone although she struck up an acquaintance with two of them, engaging them in conversation usually in Common although sometimes in a poor version of Rakahi that she managed to offset with some smiles and blushes to appear somewhat endearing. If she had been so inclined, she could have brought one or both of them to bed, but she wasn’t really interested, although it might be the last time she had to enjoy such freedoms. Instead, she was more liable to remain moping in her cabin with her cat.
Alena seemed to be of a similar mind as her owner, not seeming particularly taken with the odd rocking motion of the boat on the water or the jittering of the carriage. The bag that Valeria had gotten to transport her in was to the feline’s liking though, the animal quite content to curl herself up in it; however, her fondness for it wasn’t as strong when they started moving. By the time both owner and pet left the boat for a carriage to cover the remaining distance to Senlin, neither of them was in a particularly joyous mood. Their ill-temper only grew when the snow between themselves and the house in the midst of the barony more than doubled what should have been a two-break carriage ride.
When she finally reached her childhood home, it was dusk and the Lady basically stumbled out of the carriage, lacking the will or the energy to do so gracefully after five trials of travel, even though she had assistance. She allowed her belongings to be carried off on her behalf, but she held on tightly to Alena’s bag, not willing to part with it as her stormy grey eyes took in the sight of what she had always considered to be something of a glorified log cabin, although an austere one. It was large and imposing and certainly didn’t bear any of the quaintness that might be considered to characterise the dwellings of the common folk. As far as Valeria was concerned, the wood was too dark, the structure itself almost brooding as it seemed to hunch over you, the central part of the house jutting out so that it looked ready to fall on top of you.
Others had called it beautiful, but the blonde considered it merely as grim although she was fairly biased given that she’d felt trapped within its confines for the first 18 arcs of her life. Oh, she’d explored the grounds as children were wont to do but she hadn’t had the same freedom as her brothers, hadn’t been allowed to wander quite as far, hadn’t been allowed to climb trees or grow too dirty. As a child, she’d hated it and as a young lady, she had comforted herself by thinking that such things didn’t befit someone of her stature; she had looked down her nose at her brothers, considering herself as too grown-up for their childish antics but truthfully, pining to be allowed to do the same sort of things. There had been no scraped knees or cut elbows for her because noblemen didn’t like a woman to be marked with blemishes or scars. So she had been taught, so Ulyna had drilled into her and so her mother had made her believe. The blonde had always doubted that Raakel Burhan had had to endure such a coddled existence.
There was no going back or avoiding this so steeling herself, the young woman followed the servant who had come to lead her in. She wasn’t led in by the hand like a child but there was an odd sense that she couldn’t be trusted not to wander off.
Stepping into the entrance hall, she found her mother dressed looking incredibly stately in a dark blue brocade dress and with her hair artfully arranged on her head. The girl approached her with a little hesitancy, bending at the knees to set down Alena's bag before she leaned close to the Baroness to kiss her cheek. The woman stood stiffly and as her daughter withdrew, she noted that her nose was wrinkled, her eyes a hard grey that swirled with dark, almost navy blue. She seemed both disgusted and disappointed in her and the blonde shrank from her a little like a scolded child, her eyes a soft, morose blue-grey.
"It's good to see you, Mother. I'm sorry that I took so long to get here but the snow was hampering," she explained softly.
"Hm, yes, I imagine. You should probably clean up after your long journey. We can meet in the parlour once you're... fresh," the Baroness commented coolly, eyes almost hooded as she regarded the younger Burhan. Valeria couldn't believe it. She knew that it could be difficult to keep one's self entirely clean during a boat ride but she'd been very careful about her personal hygiene, it wasn't as if she hadn't washed. Her mother had rather unsubtly told her that she thought she stank. The blonde wanted to retort but instead she bit her tongue.
"Yes, Mother," she murmured meekly, playing the part of obedient daughter that she thought was expected of her as she bent to pick up the cat's bag again and headed upstairs to her room.