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The Bochanan Ball was a success. For the most part. The food was great, the music was divine and the company was...mostly well behaved. Myrcella did what she could in her first venture at being a Hostess.
But it wasn't supposed to be that way.
Her mother Gwendolyn Bochanan was to run the Ball in honour of her late husband, but it seemed that she just couldn't leave her bedchambers. So that duty fell to Myrcella. She hoped that she had done a good job. It was enough of a task to keep her betrothed busy enough to not have to be around her all the time. Her plan for that was simple; to get Richard Henry the Eighth so annoyed with her that he'd break off the engagement so that she wouldn't have to move to Elbion. Of course there was a chance that that could backfire. Richard wasn't exactly an imbocile. He had already picked up on some of her ploy.
But that was all last night. Myrcella had gotten herself up early for once. Most of the guests were still there, having their own bedchambers in the guestwing. Who exactly were the early risers, Myrcella couldn't really guess. Though she had figured that one guest in particular would be awake. Otto von Stehlen seemed to be the type to not waste a day. For Myrcella, he appeared to be a man who knew much about politics and running a house outside of what she knew.
The guestwing had it's own study and library. Quite often guests would be in there drinking tea, or going over letters, or reading, or even looking at some of the paintings. Myrcella hoped that she could find Otto there. If not, then she would just stay there for a while and wait. It was also a good hiding spot from her betrothed, if he happened to wake up early. Surely he wouldn't think of looking for her there.
But it wasn't supposed to be that way.
Her mother Gwendolyn Bochanan was to run the Ball in honour of her late husband, but it seemed that she just couldn't leave her bedchambers. So that duty fell to Myrcella. She hoped that she had done a good job. It was enough of a task to keep her betrothed busy enough to not have to be around her all the time. Her plan for that was simple; to get Richard Henry the Eighth so annoyed with her that he'd break off the engagement so that she wouldn't have to move to Elbion. Of course there was a chance that that could backfire. Richard wasn't exactly an imbocile. He had already picked up on some of her ploy.
But that was all last night. Myrcella had gotten herself up early for once. Most of the guests were still there, having their own bedchambers in the guestwing. Who exactly were the early risers, Myrcella couldn't really guess. Though she had figured that one guest in particular would be awake. Otto von Stehlen seemed to be the type to not waste a day. For Myrcella, he appeared to be a man who knew much about politics and running a house outside of what she knew.
The guestwing had it's own study and library. Quite often guests would be in there drinking tea, or going over letters, or reading, or even looking at some of the paintings. Myrcella hoped that she could find Otto there. If not, then she would just stay there for a while and wait. It was also a good hiding spot from her betrothed, if he happened to wake up early. Surely he wouldn't think of looking for her there.