déjà entendu
— 402 — Dayes Palace, Caerphilly Wales — speech/thought —
“ 7:30 AM, August.1 2026“
“ 7:30 AM, August.1 2026“
Her stay at the Palace was eventful, after the camp ended, Fenwick as per usual lift her up and made his travel to the Palace again. However, something was amiss, her mother decided to give a message, in a envelope which was wrapped in red ribbon which was laden with vanilla. Angel with a stifled suspire she delicately revealed the paper, which was now denuded.
"My dearest Angel,
It is my utmost pleasure to disclose an arrangement in which you will participate in due time, we have been aquaintinced with another family, the Vranekovas. The families believe they had found similarities in history, and they too have a heritage just the same. Their daughter Milica Vranekova is around the same age, her mother Jarmila Vranekova is keen on having her meet other peers her age and heritage too. Oh — right she is a Slytherin as well!
I believe you have been making haste and gracing your presence with various events but please I ask you humor me on this matter! I'm quite uncertain whether the whole family will be travelling alongside with her but do assume she'll bring herself. Her arrival in Caerphilly will be momentarily.
I expect you to be amiable, I have heard occasionally you can come off as a bit too ritzy — oh forgive my levity I am only jesting! You have far more wit than me!
Your's truly,
Mother"
The atramentous ink was fresh, the letter's contents echoed through her mind. Construed the arrangement, she did not have the pugnacity, Angel would have to follow through but she wouldn't count on being too amiable. Notably with those she had not heard of before. Her chest tightened as she clenched the letter. She was opened to all possibilities of how the outcome of this arrangement would be, she knew she'd be welcomed or not. Upon her arrival she closed the door of the limousine as she bid adieu to Fenwick.
"Milica Vranekova, a grave name indeed." she'd say frankly indifferent with her appellations.
Ahead of schedule she mused she'd have to abide by the stairs that was veiled in velvet. The mourning doves sang a eerie aria, Angel nodded in approval of their tunes. Assented of the crimson scent, the atmosphere never cease to adapt to anyone but her. A myriad no — a plethora of people had experience arrangements before, this would be her first.
All is well she supposed.
"My dearest Angel,
It is my utmost pleasure to disclose an arrangement in which you will participate in due time, we have been aquaintinced with another family, the Vranekovas. The families believe they had found similarities in history, and they too have a heritage just the same. Their daughter Milica Vranekova is around the same age, her mother Jarmila Vranekova is keen on having her meet other peers her age and heritage too. Oh — right she is a Slytherin as well!
I believe you have been making haste and gracing your presence with various events but please I ask you humor me on this matter! I'm quite uncertain whether the whole family will be travelling alongside with her but do assume she'll bring herself. Her arrival in Caerphilly will be momentarily.
I expect you to be amiable, I have heard occasionally you can come off as a bit too ritzy — oh forgive my levity I am only jesting! You have far more wit than me!
Your's truly,
Mother"
The atramentous ink was fresh, the letter's contents echoed through her mind. Construed the arrangement, she did not have the pugnacity, Angel would have to follow through but she wouldn't count on being too amiable. Notably with those she had not heard of before. Her chest tightened as she clenched the letter. She was opened to all possibilities of how the outcome of this arrangement would be, she knew she'd be welcomed or not. Upon her arrival she closed the door of the limousine as she bid adieu to Fenwick.
"Milica Vranekova, a grave name indeed." she'd say frankly indifferent with her appellations.
Ahead of schedule she mused she'd have to abide by the stairs that was veiled in velvet. The mourning doves sang a eerie aria, Angel nodded in approval of their tunes. Assented of the crimson scent, the atmosphere never cease to adapt to anyone but her. A myriad no — a plethora of people had experience arrangements before, this would be her first.
All is well she supposed.
@Milica Vranekova
INPC: Chelsea Mitzchel