Fly me to the moon

let me play among the stars

in other words, hold my hand; in other words, kiss me

Jarred's mind had gone back to Constance Mountbatten time and time again over the past few weeks. Since meeting her, since talking with her, he had been unfortunately captivated. She was beautiful. She was interesting. Her mind caught his attention as much as her body. There was a sadness, too, that he saw behind those gorgeous green eyes that he ached to heal. The man wanted to save her from whatever it was that caused her even the slightest distress. Those were not feelings to be having towards another man's fiancée. The diamond on her hand had clued him into that-- and asking around, discreetly, of course, had confirmed it. 

Lady Constance Mountbatten was to marry Lord Liam Flint. A man, who in Jarred's opinion, was completely unworthy of the witch. Of course, he was prejudicial on the matter, but there would be no chance he would allow Sorrel to become entangled with someone like Flint. The man was utterly unincredible-- and was not even an heir to make up for it. Not that being an heir was everything. It wasn't-- but still, Constance deserved something more than an Obliviator with a violent streak. Not that any whispers about Liam's reputation and even cruelty unnerved Jarred. The Rookwood was a brilliant duelist. He had nothing to fear from Liam Flint. 

Jarred had allowed the woman's relationship with the other man delay his invitation for drinks again two weeks. That was a respectable length of time. He would not seem overly eager. It could even be seen as friendly only. He meant to tell her, though, that his intentions were not simply to cultivate a friendship with her. The Rookwood wanted more-- and he was going to be honest and forthright about that desire. If that meant she left and never spoke to him again, then he would accept that, but he would not mislead the witch. He wanted to know her. He wanted to court her. He wanted to show her the attentions of a well-bred, well-educated, thoughtful man. 

It was forward to ask a witch to terminate her engagement without the promise of ring, but he was willing to enter into a contract with her mother, if that was something Constance wished... He thought, though, that she might favor getting to know him more before making such a leap. Perhaps it was all for nothing, though, even inviting her here might be for naught. Jarred had not been so presumptuous as to ask  for dinner with the witch, he'd simply asked her to join him for drinks. He had not received nor expected a written reply to the invitation. For now, he sat alone at a high bar table tucked into the most private alcove the Chutne Jidlo bar had to offer. A barely touched glass of scotch sat in front of him. The clock on the wall crept towards seven, that had been the time he'd suggested in the missive he had sent. 

Would she join him?

Constance Leysa Mountbatten • 499 • outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","ctopline"]Fly me to the moon

[attr="class","cscriptentertain"]let me play among the stars

[attr="class","cline"]

[attr="class","clyrics"]Let me see what spring is like[break]
On Jupiter and Mars

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[attr="class","cbody"]Constance didn’t really know if this was a good idea. In fact, she was pretty certain that it could be an absolutely terrible idea. But she just wasn’t sure what other options that she had. The invitation for drinks had come just as she had been thinking about asking him to go out for drinks. She had been talking herself out of it for days—had been telling herself that it was just honestly not a good idea. But it had been a losing battle. A part of her had known that it was a fight that she was eventually going to lose, because she wanted to see him. She didn’t know why. Their encounter at the park had led to drinks, and he had just been… different. It wasn’t something that she could quite explain—and when she tried to, to herself anyway, it just sounded absolutely ridiculous. Like something made up and entirely in her head.
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It just had felt like he had looked at her and had actually seen her. She knew that it sounded silly, but it was how she had felt, and it had been a long time since she had felt like that. She wasn’t sure that Liam made her feel like that, and she was certain that he should. He definitely should. Someone else should not make her feel that way. Should they?
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She supposed it didn’t necessarily have to be a romantic feeling. Actually seeing her, or whatever she had felt when he had looked at her when she was talking and when she wasn’t. Even if it wasn’t, even if a friend or a family member could make her feel like that, they didn’t. At this point, after everything that had happened, Constance wasn’t sure if anyone in her family saw her when they looked at her. She didn’t know what they saw, what they thought, but it didn’t feel like they knew her anymore. She wasn’t sure when that feeling had stopped, but it had. And she didn’t know how to fix that or how to make it better.
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But she knew that she’d liked talking to Jarred. She had liked being around him, and she had been thinking about him more than she should. So, when he had owled her asking her if she wanted to go out for drinks, she had known that she should say no. She shouldn’t go. She should throw away the missive and stay far away from Chutne Jidlo. Even if drinks were just drinks. Even if she was allowed to have friends, she just thought that it was a bad idea. If people saw them together two times, then they were going to whisper even more. Knowing her luck, there would definitely be some people from the club at Chutne Jidlo tonight that would recognize them from a few weeks prior. Was it worth the whispering?
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She didn’t know that it was. Not with everything going on. Not with Czech guards on hand, and the importance of reputations in their family. She didn’t want anything getting back to the wrong people—she didn’t want her strýc or anyone else thinking that she just went out for drinks with men that were not her fiancé. It was also entirely possible the information would get back to her matka through Kamil, if Ludvík told him about it. There were just so many reasons why it was a bad idea to even just agree to drinks.
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Despite several attempts to talk herself out of it, she ended up at Chutne Jidlo a few minutes before seven o’clock, Ludvík only a few steps behind her. If he had opinions about this little trip, he had kept them to himself, but she was very aware of him scanning the room—likely for different reasons than she was. It didn’t take long for her to spot him at one of the hightop tables, and she took a slow breath to steady herself before heading in that direction. She was actually nervous. She didn’t like it, but she was.
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It was only when she got close to the table that she realized she didn’t even know what to say. Hello is probably a good start, she told herself, once again trying to shake off her nerves as she came to a stop. “Hi. I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” she said, her smile hopefully hiding any signs of uncertainty.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]740 ● @ jarred ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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Fly me to the moon

let me play among the stars

in other words, hold my hand; in other words, kiss me

Nervousness was not a familiar sensation for Jarred Rookwood. He did not get nervous. Not in court. Not during Wizengamot sessions. It just did not happen. So, it took him quite a while to figure out what it was that he was experiencing. He was nervous both to see Constance and to share his intentions. The wizard had been through what he wanted to say, many times over. There was delicate balance he needed to achieve to be able to be honest without giving the appearance of complete insanity. It was a huge thing that he was asking of her-- and Jarred did not expect Constance to just agree. But he could not pretend that he simply wanted to be friends with her. To engage in such deceit went against his moral code, he could not do it. He would not.

He had to be forthright and upfront. His intentions and interests in respect to her and them were long term. Jarred was not one to casually date. He saw no reason for it. He was interested only in forging a relationship with the woman who he would marry. Jarred saw the potential for that with Constance Mountbatten. She was princess. She was from a Catholic family. She was beautiful and interesting. He had been captivated by her since the first moment of their meeting. He knew she was engaged to another. There were rumors even that she cohabited with the Flints. Jarred put no stock in that. He would not believe such slander against her character. Royalty would not do that. Or so he assumed.

To be the son of Amaryllis Blackwood, Jarred still had some rather backwards views and assumptions about the lives the aristocracy lived. He knew Sorrel was saving herself for her husband, so despite the fact he had brought women to his bed, he held the belief that true ladies did not indulge in the sins of the flesh. But even such a transgression would not be enough to destroy his opinion of Constance. No one was perfect... albeit perhaps his sister, but that was surely his opinion on that matter was influenced by some degree of Rookwood partiality manifesting. 

But there was no such bias when it came to Constance. All he felt for her was based purely on her alone. Her beauty had been what caught his attention, but what lay beneath the flawless exterior held it. His heart broke for the sadness she seemed to carry. The empathy he had for others allowed him to notice this, despite her efforts to disguise such pain. It nearly angered him that she should have to carry that alone, that none would heft the weight from her shoulders and onto their own. That was what he wished to do. He longed to take every pain or pressure from her-- to free her until she knew only happiness and love. 

The wizard had been working through the words he wanted to say, staring down at his glass. But as if he had felt her presence arrive, Jarred looked up as Constance walked into the bar. He smiled at the sight of her, taking in the full length of her beauty. A flick of his eyes went to her guard and he gave the man a slight nod. It would not do to be rude to the help. That was not how a gentleman behaved. Everyone was worthy of respect and kindness regardless of station. 

Once Constance was close to the table, Jarred rose. He offered his warmest and most sincere smile to the woman. "Good evening," he offered in reply to her greeting. His head shook slightly to give a non-verbal indication of no. "Not at all, I have been here only a few minutes. And your company is surely worth waiting much longer for." The wizard was not making a concentrated effort to be charming, but his confidence made such things come naturally to him. He stood tall with his shoulders back and his head held high. He was well-bred and it showed. He had an air of aristocracy to him, but he carried himself such without exuding arrogance. The line between such things was razor thin, but someone Jarred existed with ease on it.  

He pulled out a chair for her. "My Lady," he offered, smiling that charming smile at her-- eyes sparkling with admiration and curiosity. There were so many thing he wanted to know about Constance Mountbatten. The minutes of this meeting, much like their last one, would be far too few to sate him. He could not possibly get enough. Once she was seated, he circled around to take the seat across from her. "I am most pleased that you decided to join me, Constance. I am honored by your company. Deeply so. I hope you are well. I took the liberty to order you a glass of the Macallan 25 year." He was drinking the same. This had been bottled in 1993 at cask strength for its Xtra Old Particular range. Only 280 bottles had ever existed. Chutne Jidlo kept the specific vintage to serve to him at his behest. He'd provided the restaurant with five bottles to house for consumption by himself and any guests he brought.  There were benefits to being The Lord of a great house. Fine establishments would make concessions and arrangements to accommodate you and those with you. 

@ the one I want • 903 • outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

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[attr="class","ctopline"]FLY ME TO THE MOON

[attr="class","cscriptentertain"]let me play among the stars

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[attr="class","clyrics"]LET ME SEE WHAT SPRING IS LIKE[break]
ON JUPITER AND MARS

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[attr="class","cbody"]If the feeling in her stomach was any indicator, this was probably a bad idea. At the very least, she knew that she was nervous about this little outing in a way that she probably shouldn’t be. She shouldn’t have butterflies in her stomach when she thought about going out for drinks with a man that was not her fiancé. Even the concept of butterflies was a little bit embarrassing for her to admit to. But it was certainly the feeling that she was experiencing. There was no doubt about that. She was nervous to see him, she was excited to see him, and that was really probably not okay. This was probably not okay, at all.
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Everything that she was feeling about the man that she’d met a few weeks back was definitely not all right. It was not something that she should be feeling as an engaged woman. She was in the process of planning a wedding, for Merlin’s sake. Granted, she had not actually gotten very far in the planning process, but that did not change the fact that she was planning a wedding and going out for drinks with someone else.
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But maybe it was fine. She was allowed to have friends. Liam had friends that were girls. He went out for drinks with his colleagues and what not, and he definitely had woman colleagues. She didn’t get self-conscious or worry that there was anything that was going on there that there shouldn’t be. Maybe Jarred was just her friend—sort of, anyway. That was how you made friends. You met people, and you got to know them, which was something that people did over drinks. There wasn’t any reason to think that this was anything other than innocent. Even if the feeling in her stomach was not exactly the sort of feeling when she went out for drinks with, say, Sabine. It didn’t mean that she was going to act on any wayward feelings. She was a lady. She wasn’t going to jump him just because she was attracted to him. She wasn’t going to forget that she was engaged. It was just drinks.
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Constance still thought that her matka would likely disapprove if she knew what she was doing. She thought that her strýc would disapprove, if word got to the king that one of his nieces was out in public with someone that wasn’t her fiancé. But really, she didn’t think that Josef paid much attention to what she did. Perks of being the middle child, or something like that. She wasn’t going to start dancing on bars anytime soon, but she didn’t think there was any reason for him to find out about her going out casually for some drinks. Unless Ludvík saw fit to make sure the right people knew about it. He saw everything, after all. If he thought that there was a risk of something untoward happening, she supposed he might find it necessary to tell somebody. He might have been hired to keep her safe, but that didn’t mean that he cared about her personally. It didn’t mean that he was going to keep her secrets. He was going to report to the person who paid him.
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Still, it was just drinks. There was nothing to report. Nothing to tell at all. As long as she kept her cool and didn’t make it completely obvious that she was attracted to him and had spent a fair bit of time thinking about him since their meeting—far more than she should be thinking about him, anyway. Ludvík couldn’t read her mind. He could only see what happened, and that would be fine. She would be a complete lady. She was definitely capable of that.
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Of course, the moment that she saw him, her stomach did another flip. It was just a completely unacceptable feeling. “Well, regardless, I’m glad I didn’t keep you waiting,” she smiled, her head tilted up to look at him. Her heels gave her some height, but like the rest of her family, she was definitely on the short side—and Jarred was significantly taller than Liam was.
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A polite ‘thank you’ left her lips as he pulled out the chair and she sat down. Ludvík remained standing, obviously, and a part of her wondered if it was possible to convince him to not stand right at the wall near them and instead go… somewhere else entirely, but it was an argument she probably should have thought to have before they had gotten here. A raised eyebrow was her first reaction to his words, momentarily surprised—and impressed, that he’d ordered her liquor instead of a glass of wine. Of course, she liked wine too, but she was a Wentzell, and Wentzells were all partial to scotch. She just wouldn’t have been surprised by him ordering her a glass of wine, and she wouldn’t have cared truly. But Macallan was right up her alley tonight and would do more for her nerves than wine would have.
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She had ordered scotch when they had gone out for drinks after Temperance’s performance, though, so he might have just paid attention to that and chose a scotch whisky as opposed to wine for the night. The reasoning behind the choice was not important, she supposed, but it was interesting to her, nonetheless. “You have good taste. My father always kept a few similar bottles in our cellar. One of his favorites,” she explained, with a smile. In fact, she was nearly certain they had the Macallan 30 year still down there, unless Philip had seen fit to open it up. But she didn’t think there was any reason to get specific on what bottles they had. “And I am doing well, thank you. With school being out, most of my time is spent at Avalon. We’re having Open Rehearsals for the next couple of weeks.” That was always popular in the summer months—people coming in to see them practice for the performances. “I hope that you’ve been well too,” she added.
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[attr="class","cnotes"]1013 ● @ jarred ● outfit

[attr="class","cred"]MADE BY VEL OF WW + ADOX 2.0

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