heirring | inbox.

Dreadfully. This is a timeless ritual, crucial to the smooth functioning of a healthy society. What will you wear?

It's— [Hmm] Why?

Because we must coordinate.

I'm afraid I've plans to coordinate with a friend already. Perhaps we might simply match colors? In which case I mean to wear blue. A sort of...sapphire, I suppose.

Edited 2020-10-24 18:25 (UTC)

Dear mademoiselle, no. This is not a time to wear a pretty dress and dance a gavotte. I am not talking about mere color coordination.

I hardly see the need to be more thorough about it. Surely you can't expect that— [She won't say what she's thinking, which is that she has no intention of spending the evening loitering alongside him to satisfy some desire to be a matched pair; he is so prickly over the subject of being disagreeable company. She veers instead toward:]

I don't think you would find what I have planned at all appealing. I am attempting to do you a kindness.

[ ?? ]

I'll find it out sooner or later. I think that to surprise me with something unappealing is far crueler.

[UGH.]

You must swear yourself to secrecy.

My most grave oath is yours.

And you cannot laugh.

I shall be as joyless as Corypheus himself.

And if you hear it and insist that we ought still to coordinate, you must not take credit for the original idea.

Edited 2020-10-24 21:08 (UTC)

This seems a bit contradictory. Both hiding a notion and taking credit for it.

It is not contradictory. It is a form of insurance.

[Is snipped right back, brisk and no nonsense. You will not trap her in semantics today, sir.]

The Empress.