http://the-corsair.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] the-corsair.livejournal.com) wrote in [personal profile] rude_not_ginger 2006-10-08 03:25 am (UTC)

Byron had worn something if not quite period, very much him. Ruffled shirt, well fitting pants, a brocade jacket. It was close enough to what he'd seen in portraits of his great-grandfather to not garner stares from the courtiers. His cane, his limp, did that, but no more than usual. Fitting in at a court was nothing he wasn't well versed in.

He didn't know where she would be. He didn't know what he would say when he found her. How to explain. But he had told her that he would find a way, and here he was. He just hoped that it was after...after they'd spoken. That she'd know who he was. That she'd understand.

He stepped out onto the terrace, looking down at Louis' gardens, but not seeing her, he moved back inside, searching through salons and anterooms, looking for her. Her smile. Just...her.

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