The crystal glass filled with chilled water and a slice of lemon lands before her gently, and she watches his hand as he lets go of it, leaving it for her to take, thinking she could have painted it, the way the difference in temperature makes the surface of the glass mist slightly, little droplets, diamonds of perspiration. It's quite beautiful. His hand, in contrast, is large and decisive and he drinks brandy out of tumbler where she would have drunk champagne from a flute in another context than this. This isn't for partying, he is offering her another degree of confidentiality. At a big enough party, you'd have to yell to make yourself heard, where he doesn't raise his voice at all. He invites her whispering.
Then, his hands begin shuffling and dealing the cards left behind on the table. Stronger and bigger in comparison to the thin paper cards. She watches quietly as he divides the cards between them, not specifying what they're playing, how she might win, because it isn't about winning, it isn't about what game. They decide the game themselves, it's all just pretend.
It'd all be just pretend, if she could decide.
So, Sylvie picks up the cards and holds them gingerly between her hands, looking them over, oh, look, an ace there! Glancing up, meeting his eyes as he asks, presents her with every opportunity in the world, as if that is hers to have... Sylvie has never been as free as in this moment. She takes a deep breath, feeling tears press at the back of her eyes, making her blink repeatedly.
If she could do anything. Anything she desires.
"I would live true. I would live, free of my brother's plans. I would paint and I would be known on my own merit, not by my family name." Without hesitating for more than a second, she picks out the ace and puts it down on the table between them, face-up. "I wouldn't wait for my brother to disinherit me. I would disinherit my brother first, but that's not how these things work, is it?"
A small smile. She pushes the ace towards him with two, slim fingers. He could be it, Lord Melbourne. He could be the ace up her sleeve. If necessary, she'd rip the fabric to make him fit, she'd tear a big old hole.
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Then, his hands begin shuffling and dealing the cards left behind on the table. Stronger and bigger in comparison to the thin paper cards. She watches quietly as he divides the cards between them, not specifying what they're playing, how she might win, because it isn't about winning, it isn't about what game. They decide the game themselves, it's all just pretend.
It'd all be just pretend, if she could decide.
So, Sylvie picks up the cards and holds them gingerly between her hands, looking them over, oh, look, an ace there! Glancing up, meeting his eyes as he asks, presents her with every opportunity in the world, as if that is hers to have... Sylvie has never been as free as in this moment. She takes a deep breath, feeling tears press at the back of her eyes, making her blink repeatedly.
If she could do anything. Anything she desires.
"I would live true. I would live, free of my brother's plans. I would paint and I would be known on my own merit, not by my family name." Without hesitating for more than a second, she picks out the ace and puts it down on the table between them, face-up. "I wouldn't wait for my brother to disinherit me. I would disinherit my brother first, but that's not how these things work, is it?"
A small smile. She pushes the ace towards him with two, slim fingers. He could be it, Lord Melbourne. He could be the ace up her sleeve. If necessary, she'd rip the fabric to make him fit, she'd tear a big old hole.
Crawl out into freedom that way.