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It was obvious almost from the moment of her birth that Jeannine would go to Orchis House. She was a gloriously happy baby, laughing and cooing at all that caught her eye. Born to Valerian House adepts, in the heart of the Night Court itself, she is intended for Naamah's service, and duly trained in the arts of the Court. (They do not even attempt the test of the candies, not with her. She is, quietly, spoken for; she is a child of joy and laughter, and Orchis it will be.) Though the scholarly ways are lost on her, she finds the arts of etiquette and grace are as natural as any could have wished. The story of Blessed Elua and his Companions, she adores, and begs it out of their priest of Elua as many times as he will tell it. Sparkling blue eyes and eager smiles do their work as well on Elua's priests as on any other, and Jeannine hears the story no small number of times.

At ten, she departs for her new household in Orchis House. They have paid surety for her since she was a child; now she is theirs in truth. She finds the other children as bright and lively as she, and delights in their company. As a group they are rather mischievous, in truth, but as long as they play with good nature and light hearts, their antics are not much discouraged.

At thirteen, she is formally dedicated to Naamah's service at last. Her dove is a small but cheerful one, true to the spirit of her dedicate, and flies over Elua's temple with ease- one and all rejoice in her good fortune. Instructions in the arts of Naamah is added to her schooling.

At sixteen, she begins her marque. She falls in love with the design from the moment she lays eyes on it; it's a shower of roses falling down her back. Here and there hides a thorn, a testament to her origins in Valerian, but the flowers are beautiful shades of pink and purple and float and spiral down her spine. She adores it. Slowly, so slowly, she makes progress on the tattoo itself; she may not be the finest adept of her generation, but she is talented indeed. She does not lack in willing patrons to leave her a patron-gift towards the marque's creation. She is becoming known, to those with the inclination to know, as a particularly fine example of the Orchis canon.
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And it is for that reason that Ninette Fortier requests Jeannine when she comes to Orchis House in search of a traveling companion. It's an unusual purpose for which to engage a Servant of Naamah, and like to be an expensive one, if she travels for long - but Ninette can certainly pay. The house of Fortier is, if not especially notable, at least especially rich.

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At the summons from the Dowayne, Jeannine arrives, kneeling abeyante as she has been taught. "My lady," she greets Ninette with a cheerful smile, "well met indeed! How might I serve you?"

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"I am going on a journey," she says. "With my sister, whom I love very much, but who is not what I would call cheerful company. It would delight me to no end if I could bring someone who laughs more than once a week. I know it's not precisely what Servants of Naamah are for, but at least I think it in keeping with the spirit of Orchis House."

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Jeannine laughs. "Never let it be said Orchis lacked in laughter! It would be my pleasure to be your companion, my lady, and bring some measure of gaiety to your travels. But if I might ask- to where will they be taking you?"

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"Here and there!" she says cheerfully. "Through Siovale to start, most like. We don't have a route planned, but Sara is very fond of libraries. Like water flowing downhill, she always ends up where the books are."

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Jeannine looks pleased. "My friend Emmeline tells me the most glowing stories of Siovale," she says. "Were you planning to stop by the Maynard estate? I believe they have no small library, unless Emmeline tells it false."

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"I can't say we were planning to, but mayhap we should! Tell me more," she invites.

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"I must admit, I do not know much in detail of their library," Jeannine laughs. "I see Emmeline perhaps once a year; they do not spend much time in the City. Theirs is a rather traditional Siovalese family, for what that would tell you. Emmeline is, of course, somewhat scholarly- I would not be much surprised if she speaks more languages than I have taken patrons!- so there are likely a fair quantity of foreign books?" she offers.

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"Ah, my sister will love that," says Ninette. "She adores obscure things. We'll visit your friend Emmeline, then! Unless she wouldn't like us to...?"

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"She will likely welcome the novelty," Jeannine says. "I do not believe they see many visitors, in her corner of Siovale."

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Ninette giggles.

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Jeannine informs the Dowayne that she is amenable to Ninette's contract, and it is drawn up and signed without delay. Ninette receives a bright smile and a cheerful kiss for her trouble. "Well and so, milady; now I am yours, and now we may be off!"





"...or will we be off? I had supposed us to be leaving shortly, but truly, now I recall you specified no particular time! Shame, shame upon me."
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"We will be off!" laughs Ninette. "I will bring you to meet my sister and then we will all take to the road. If there's anything you'd like to bring along, now is the time to fetch it."

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"As my patron commands," Jeannine giggles, curtsying briefly. She is back in short order with a small pack; no Night Court adept is overly attached to worldly goods, living as they do in the luxury of Naamah's temples, but she has some small number of personal effects she wishes to bring, and of course she will need clothes.

(During the day, at the least.)

Upon her return she locates Ninette and leads her back to her carriage. "And heeeere we are," she proclaims gaily, holding the door for Ninette. "After you, my lady."
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"Such courtesy! I'm charmed," she giggles, and in they get and off they go. It's a short drive to the house of the Fortier sisters, a cozy little place that looks to be easily maintained by no more than a single servant.

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Jeannine is enchanted with the Fortier estate, though caught somewhat wrong-footed. For the home of a woman who just hired an adept of the Night Court for a whole journey, she was expecting somewhat rather- larger.

Not that one would say as much to a patron, of course.

"What a lovely home," she remarks instead with a pleased smile. "Is your sister likely to be about, or shall we find somewhere to await her?"

She alights from the carriage gracefully and retrieves her baggage, then looks to her patron for her instructions. She would not wish to intrude in their home without an invitation.
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"She'll pop up," Ninette says cheerfully. "When we least expect her, most like. Go on in, I'll see to the carriage."

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Jeannine enters the estate, as instructed. She halts when she arrives in the main hall; once here, she has no clear idea where to go. As it happens, she does not mind the wait. Elua knows it's less onerous than most of her training.

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Ninette reappears soon enough.

"No sign of Sara?" she guesses. "She must be out doing Sara things, then. We've a guest room where you can leave your things - I'll show you."
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"Whatever a Sara thing might be, it would appear she is indeed off doing them," Jeannine agrees, amused. "Thank you, my lady. I'll just," she waves her arms vaguely, attempting to convey her uncertainty regarding direction, "follow you, shall I?"

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"This way," she says cheerfully.

There is a guest room! It's not far. It is small and comfortable-looking.

"There," says Ninette. "Now to wait for Sara, who will tell us when we're leaving. We have a little library, do you like libraries?"
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"I adore new stories," Jeannine admits. "I am no Siovalese, to surround myself in naught but reading, but I would much enjoy new tales. But what of you, my lady? Do you have aught with which to entertain yourself as we await your sister?"

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Ninette shrugs. "I can sit in the library with you, can I not?"

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"And welcome, of course!" Jeannine assures her. "Have you a book of your own? Or I might attempt a reading," she suggests with a chuckle. "I am no Eglantine, born to performing, but I could certainly read you a tale." She adopts a deep voice, straightening to a more formal stance. "And so, the Lord of Marsilikos did come to court, all attired in his wife's finest gown," she intones, eyes alight with mischief.

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Ninette bursts into giggles.

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