Twenty minutes later, and only just avoiding perfume and a full face of cosmetics, Raiva at last escaped from Shelly's overly excited dress up for a simple solo outing.
She was allowed to keep her attire simple with the long sleeved, white, lacy day-dress, though her hair was in a series of elaborate braids, elegantly tied in a longer braid in the back, as well as a speck of dusty rose colored cheek and lip color.
/I mean, don't get me wrong, I look absolutely lovely. It's just a lot of fuss before breakfast.
Shelly, taking great pride in her work despite not being allowed to go all out, had banned her from helping with breakfast, both because of her recent "recovery" and in case she spilled food on her dress while transporting it to and from the table.
Too tired for even more argumentation before her morning coffee, Raiva had decided it best not to argue and simply get the meal over with quietly before heading to the mercantile district.
As she crossed the sitting room, she saw Frederick loading food onto the table by himself, seemingly unbothered by the absence of the two. He looked up at seeing movement and smiled warmly at her.
"Feeling better already? You look marvelous today," he said, teasingly. Then he directed his words at his wife. "Your accomplishment, dear? Excellent work."
Shelly let out a proud "Doesn't she just?" before rushing to set the table and help with the remaining dishes.
"Good morning to you too, Frederick," she responded half-sarcastically, making her way into the kitchen to secure herself a cup of coffee. Sitting down with it at the kitchen table, she felt guilty watching the two rush in and out in a practiced manner, though she caught a few side-eyes from Shelly whenever she looked like she was about to try and help.
As the clock struck 8.30, the tenants began taking their seats at the table. Griffin was notably absent, though Cassian and Octavia had obviously become better acquainted, discussing something unintelligible merrily with each other, with Victor occasionally adding to the conversation. While Cassian responded as one would expect, Octavia was notably stand-offish towards him.
/Curious.
Raiva thought back to when Octavia had helped her with the ribbon incident.
/"Fucking men"
/Oh. I guess I wasn't imagining it.
She had a hard time visualizing Octavia saying it, though the voice saying it had without a doubt been hers, in hindsight.
She suppressed a chuckle at the thought of her holding a grudge against Victor because of it, but it really had been his own fault in the end.
"Where is the captain?" she wondered quietly, to no one in particular.
Shelly's sharp ears had picked up on it however, replying, "Oh, he gets his breakfast form Frederick at 7, since he has morning drills this month, nothing elaborate, but there is usually some bread at that time."
"Oh," Raiva reacted, maybe a little too surprised for prying eyes.
/He had to get up early to do drills after that? The poor man.
She giggled to herself, ignoring Shelly knowing smirk as she finished with her busywork, and sat down to join her for breakfast along with Frederick.
After eating in peaceful quiet, save for the low conversation carried in from the dining room and the clutter of cutlery and cups from eating, Raiva drew herself up in her seat.
"I was thinking of eating lunch while out today," she directed at Frederick, hoping to save him a bit of work. "And I thought I might ask for recommendations for boutiques and seamstresses while I'm there, wait staff is usually very helpful with these things, or so I've been informed."
She trailed off at the end, hoping that Shelly would affirm or deny this in some way, to guide her in the right direction. In response however, she simply nodded, making Raiva unsure as to whether she was affirming the notion or being an attentive listener.
Raiva awkwardly fell silent again, not wanting to out herself as being too clueless, lest Shelly insist on (over)doing it again. She glanced at Frederick for some kind of hint. He smiled in response and nodded after gesturing towards his wife, by tilting his head a little.
/That's a plan then.
A few hours later, after having composed yet another letter to her lawyer mentioning the out-of-character upcoming billings from boutiques, and Shelly turning her dressing room upside down in the search for a purse, she finally departed. Accompanied by Frederick, since no one was home for lunch anyway, she made her way down the residential streets on foot, ignoring the indiscreet whisperings of her new neighbors, and steadily approaching the marvelously nearby inner city of Prievo.
As they exited the residential area with it's wide, relatively low houses and miniature mansions, the building began becoming taller, narrower, and somehow subdued in a warm, gentle shade as the buildings effectively blocked out direct sunlight with their height. Along with the difference in scale, the facades were also becoming more colorful, going from the polite whites and browns to yellows, greens and delicate blues, lined with plants and vines, that somehow survived in the perpetual half shade.
Raiva had been told that is was uncommon for inner cities to be built like this in Echona, and that it was a far more normal sight further west. Visitors from other parts of the country were usually surprised at the lack of parasols and hats on both the men and women here, but when even the middle of the day could not touch people's faces with its sun rays, it was generally unnecessary. In turn it made Prievo one of the few areas where a tan was envied by some of the upper echelons as signaling free time and, in particular, access to gardens and outside areas for residences in general. After all, the most an ordinary noble could boast would be a small courtyard, which naturally also received mostly shade.
One could easily get lost in these narrow, intertwined streets, though there only ever seemed to be more wonderful places and people to stumble into as a result.
After saying her goodbyes to Frederick, Raiva allowed herself to do just that, leaving familiar roads of high society locations behind her, waiting to stumble across a place to have lunch.
Just as her feet had begun to tire a little, and she considered turning back, she was faced with a sign, half hidden by foliage, next to an intricately painted door in green and silver, reading "The Salon Grün" with a small text underneath adding "a place for violets".
/Peculiar. You'd think they would go with something more thematic than a purple flower. Although violets are quite nice, I suppose.
Intrigued, she entered the salon.
Once inside, it took everything she had not to have her mouth agape in a wide eyed stare.
The waiters, or waitresses, were all women, but dressed in men's waiting clothes and their hair worn in identically sleek and androgynous low ponytails. Every one of them was tall, at least Raiva's own height, and remarkably attractive to boot.
The atmosphere was somehow a lively one, not the usual polite air of a normal tea salon, with large tables and about five groups currently occupying the central ones, chattering among themselves.
While figuring out whether it was self-seating or not, she saw a few members of aforementioned groups changing tables as though they were all one big party.
"Excuse me," she tentatively asked a passing waiter, no, waitress.
"Yes? How can I be of service?" she replied with a blinding smile.
/Oh, she's gorgeous.
"Is the salon currently reserved or-?" she nodded towards the seated tables.
She looked back to see what Raiva was references, returning a lighthearted chuckle.
"Oh, no, miss. Our patrons are just very social."
She paused, tilting her head in a rehearsed manner, her shiny, black ponytail peeking out behind her shoulder.
"It is your first time, I take it?"
Raiva was still processing the information, when among the patrons at the leftmost table, she spotted a familiar toffee-colored bob.
/Octavia.
She stumbled over her words a little.
"Ah, yes-"
"I see," the waitress responded, followed by a well-mannered bow and a side-step to obscure Raiva's line of sight to the dining area. "Then I must ask who recommended you to visit us. We are a bit of a private salon, you see."
"Oh. I'm sorry, I don't have anything like that, I simply saw the sign outside," she replied, flustered. Before she could think of anything else, her head cloudy with embarrassment and her cheeks turning red, she uttered, "But I do know Octavia? The woman with the short, toffee colored hair, at the table on the left."
The woman looked at her politely, with no change of expression.
"Would you wait here a moment, miss?" she asked, before stepping back to close the heavy velvet curtains, previously hidden by the door frame between them.
Raiva was heavily considering departing at this point, feeling out of place in this apparently secret club she wasn't supposed to have entered. The room was even darker now, only lit up by a wall cone next to a mirror to her right. Attempting to calm herself, she checked her hair in the entryway mirror, and made to leave.
Before she could turn away, however, the curtain was pulled aside, and she was startled to see Octavia's face appearing behind it.
"Oh, it -is- you, madam," she exclaimed with a warm smile on her face, an expression Raiva had not seen on her before.
"I- Yes, I was just leaving," she half-turned and gestured vaguely towards the door behind her. She couldn't have looked more awkward if she tried.
"No no, please," Octavia giggled at her strange movements, and signaled her to enter with a wave from her hand. She then turned to the waitress and added, "Margaret, would you show her to a table while I get my things? I suspect she could use an introduction."
"I see," Margaret laughed back, then turned to Raiva with a welcoming smile again. "If you would follow me?"