Quoted By:
The dining table is laid out and waiting when you arrive, with plate of steaming food and burning candles, but Miss Martense is nowhere to be seen. You pick a seat at random and sit down, an uncomfortable silence descending as the others do the same. Daniel is the first to lose patience, taking some food onto his place and digging in. You're just about to do the same when he drops his fork, gagging loudly.
“Disgusting!” he gasps, shoving the plate of food away.
You're not sure why, but some vile curiosity drives you to take a tiny nibble of the meat. Immediately, you see what Daniel meant – the food is unbearably salty, and coated with every kind of spice that the Martense cook had in their arsenal. Whether it was petty spite or genuine ignorance to blame, the cook has taken your feedback and twisted it beyond all recognition.
“Thank you for testing the food, Master Teilhard,” Elle says quietly, flashing you a smile, “Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”
“Wish you could've given me a warning,” he rasps, chugging down water from his goblet, “Isn't that your job?”
“Clearly, annihilating your tongue was part of the natural order,” Ariel remarks, “A vital part of some greater plan.”
Daniel is still muttering curses as Munroe enters, leading a small woman behind him. Miss Martense is slender, almost gaunt, with the same white hair and pale blue eyes that seem so common around here. The image is so stark that you wonder if there might not be some relation, however distant, between her and Yennifer. Yet, Miss Martense has a nobility that the servant girl clearly lacks – a sharpness in her eyes that speaks to a keener intellect.
“Hello,” she begins simply, “I am Eleanora Martense. Please, call me Elle.”
Her voice is strange and stilted, her words stretched out longer than they have any need to be. The words themselves cause a faint ripple of amusement to pass through the room. “That's going to be awkward,” Daniel remarks, “We've already got an Elle. Can we settle on “Nora” instead?”
You smirk a little, your grin widening at the confusion that creeps into Eleanora's face. Elle isn't laughing, though – she stares at the Martense girl with undisguised disgust, hatred even.
“Miss Eleanora. It's a pleasure to meet you,” Jan says, “My name is Jan, I'm... well, I'm a cousin of the family.”
“I know who you are,” Eleanora replies, reaching across and taking up his untouched plate of food. Before Jan can cry a warning, she takes a bite of the hideous meat and chews merrily. If she notices the revolting taste, she gives no sign of it. As much as you'd like to look away, your gaze is drawn back to the sight of her eating, her small, sharp teeth working away. In no time at all, the plate is empty aside from a smear of dark sauce. Eleanora picks up the plate and starts to raise it to her mouth, pointed tongue emerging, only to freeze as Munroe clears his throat.
[1/2]
