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It was a rainy day in Ishgard. The rain came down in sheets, and one would be a fool to try walking in this weather. The hackneys were busy, collecting passengers wanting to stay out of the downpour and taking them to their destinations, only to quickly fill up again.
G’raha Tia was one such passenger, as he had forgotten an umbrella that morning. He doubted it would have done him any good—kept his head dry, perhaps, but with how the rain was falling, he would have been soaked from the waist down. “The library, if you please,” he asked the driver, and sat back in his seat.
Across from him were two young women, both in white dresses but in pink and blue spencers, respectively. Their bonnets were brown, but again, with pink and blue ribbons. They did not appear to be sisters, but they certainly looked like friends. The one directly across from him, a miqo’te like himself, had lavender hair and green eyes, while the one next to her, a viera, had pink hair and even paler green eyes. They both looked at him with curiosity.
“How do you do,” he greeted politely, once the coach started up again. They greeted him the same, and for a while, were content to sit in silence, watching the rain fall outside.
Politeness, however, dictated that they ought to try exchanging a few words. He didn’t know where their destination was, but the library was several streets over for him, so it would be rude to be silent the entire time. “I’d say it is a fine day, but one cannot even see a hand’s width away from his face to tell if it is fine or not.”
The ladies smiled and tried not to laugh, although he heard both of them giggling. “Who says the rain cannot be fine?” the miqo’te asked, still smiling. “If we could go out and play in the rain, that would be just as fine and adventurous as doing it in the sunshine.”
“You would catch your death of a cold, my dear Moonflower,” her friend chided. “Besides, I know how much you dislike getting soaked. You sound very pitiful.”
“Angelbud!” Miss Moonflower gasped, her jaw dropping in mock surprise. “Do not listen to her, sir,” she said to him.
“If I may say, I’m in this coach because I also do not like being soaked,” he offered. “I also happened to forget my umbrella.”
“What did you remember instead?” she asked him, a teasing smile on her lips now. It was a very pretty and charming smile.
G’raha made a show of patting his jacket and pockets. “Well, I do believe I remembered to put my shoes on and wear my hat.” It pleased him to hear them stifling their laughter again. He pulled two cards out of his pocket and handed them over to her with a bow. “I also miraculously remembered my calling cards, should I meet interesting people such as you lovely ladies. G’raha Tia, at your service.”
It was a gamble on his part, one he hoped they would not take offense over. After all, they were merely strangers in a hackney coach, their lives intersecting for just this one moment. They had barely exchanged more than two words with each other. But they seemed like lively, interesting people, and he needed more people to call upon than his fellows at the Students of Baldesion.
“Oh, very well done sir.” Miss Moonflower was smiling at him as she slipped the card inside her reticule and Miss Angelbud did the same. “I should never have suspected you had such charms.”
“You wound me, my lady. I am charm itself.”
“A charming old alley cat, maybe,” Miss Angelbud interjected. She exchanged a look with Miss Moonflower, and then nodded slightly.
This allowed her friend to once more reach into her reticule and pull out her own calling card. G’raha accepted it, keeping his eager curiosity in check, and found that it included her address under her name. His heart began beating rapidly at the implications and he hoped he wasn’t blushing. “If you come calling,” she said, her voice sounding a little shy now, “then perhaps we will have tea.”
Miss Angelbud did not offer her calling card, but he hadn’t been expecting it. Indeed, he was surprised that he had received one from Miss Moonflower. He must have made a deep impression despite their short exchange.
“Tea sounds lovely. Certainly in this weather.” The three of them glanced outside, where it was still pouring. Inwardly, he hoped that he wouldn’t get too wet from leaving the coach and entering the library.
“I’m afraid we may expect days of rain, at this rate,” Miss Moonflower sighed.
“Do you not like to stay indoors?”
“How can one enjoy monotony? I could play the harp for hours and yet only a quarter of an hour would have passed.”
This made G’raha laugh. “I enjoy music very much, myself.” He had a violin from his father, one that he cherished and lovingly cleaned and polished frequently. “I play the violin in my spare time.”
The ladies’ eyes widened and their eyebrows lifted. “Then one day, you must grace us with a performance,” Miss Moonflower requested. The look in her eyes said she knew what she was doing with such boldness.
He felt flustered and flattered at once. Briefly, he wished for this coach ride to never end, so that he might get to know her better as he would in a drawing room, but he suspected his time in the coach was drawing to a close. “If it would please you,” he managed to say in return. Her calling card was warm in his hand, reminding him that he could see her again, and likely her friend as well.
“You know, there are other things to do besides play music,” Miss Angelbud said quietly. “Such as reading or covering screens.”
Miss Moonflower smiled at her friend. “Or embroidering, which I know is your favorite.” She turned to G’raha and added, “She has made every one of my handkerchiefs, so you may see her perfect handiwork yourself.”
Suddenly he found himself being handed a piece of white cotton. While he was prepared to view it with amiability, as anyone would praise her friend perhaps beyond reason, he was astonished to see that she was right. The flowers were perfect, the M at the corner immaculate, and he could see that the embroidery had not left her handkerchief unusable. The colors were impeccable; Miss Angelbud had even managed to add lighting and shading to her work, which he hadn’t seen in some time.
“This is beautiful, Miss Angelbud, you are very talented.” He handed it back to Miss Moonflower, impressed.
She ducked her head in response. “Thank you, sir. Unlike my lively friend, I prefer to stay indoors.”
“And yet here you are,” he said kindly, “accompanying her wherever you are going.”
Miss Angelbud looked up and smiled gratefully at him, but said no more.
The coach came to a stop, and the driver called for the library. That was G’raha’s stop, and he regretted that he would have to leave. “Well, this is for me. It was wonderful meeting you two ladies.” He fully admitted to clutching the calling card to his chest, wanting to keep it close and out of the rain.
“Good day, Mr. G’raha Tia,” Miss Moonflower said. “Be sure to uphold your promises, or we’ll be quite dismayed.”
“I wouldn’t dream of disappointing you,” he promised, bowing to them both and leaving the coach.
It may have been a gloomy, rainy day, but G’raha dashed into the library as though he were walking on sunshine.