Childe of Passion

Louisé was stunned where she sat. She could feel her face contorting, the dried mess on her face cracking and irritating her skin. So he was the bastard scooping up LaCroix's domain from her! He came across as arrogant enough to pull off such a scheme with little to no effort. This afforded her a view of the power and influence Monsieur Devereux sported, qualities she was in desperate need of since Louisé had none of her own to use. She hadn't been Kindred long enough to be overflowing with Ventrue pride. This made it far easier for her to accept his offer. She could leave this dingy home behind and return to natural state of luxury her noble blood deserved. No longer would she be required to stress over finances, if what Devereux implied about his own fiscal standing was true. And best of all, she would have a like-minded companion in the criticism of Sébastien LaCroix.

She did not want to come across as desperate as both she and Devereux knew she was. She had some pride, after all. Therefore, she took time in replying to his proposition. Her greatest priority was not replying to him, anyhow…it was taking a bath. Something moral inside her disliked the idea of ghouls. Maybe it was the fact that two had a hand in ending her life, perhaps observing the degraded manner in which Sébastien subjected his own to, or the desperation behind a ghoul's eyes when blood was offered to them. Louisé was used to servants, but ghouls represented a distinct genre of subjugation she didn't care to associate herself with just yet. Instead, she left the drawing of her bath to a live-in member of her herd. The woman was a common wretch off the street, fairly unappealing to look at but when Louisé probed her history, found an array of noble families in her lineage. Apparently, she became pregnant from wedlock, was kicked from her home and left to the streets. The child didn't last long in his mother's arms and Louisé found her not long after that. Louisé considered bringing the woman into her home as her good deed of the year, though Sébastien had initially protested the venture. Regardless, the woman took a more righteous place as her servant than a ghoul would (in her mind, at least) and served a greater, secondary function as food.

Submerged beneath the heat of fresh water, Louisé allowed the blood, dirty and waste of the streets soak off her skin. The greatest benefit of not breathing…completely sinking into a hot bath. It gave her the opportunity to drown out all sounds and distractions and simply soak long-desired heat back into the cold death of her flesh. The length of her legs and arms, the smooth plane of her abdomen and the bulge of her breasts were all stone cold as the grave. Hot baths gave her as much time for reflection as they did the opportunity to harness the warmth of life, false though it may be. The splash of hands broke her concentration on both body and business. Her blood ewe's gentle hands eased a layer of scented Marseilles soap over her legs and feet as she lifted them, one after the other, from the water. Louisé sat up the higher the woman's hands traveled and offered her arms to be washed while she tended personally to her stomach and face. The disgusting dye of the water irritated Louisé, even as the woman's nimble fingers massaged soap into her back and neck. She groaned from pleasure and the staggering, dirty reality staring her in the face. As the woman wove her fingers into Louisé's hair and rubbed her scalp. Like a dog being petted, her eyelids slid half-closed and she moaned. She didn't want to imagine the filth in her scalp.

"Patricia?" Louisé murmured.

"Oui, mademoiselle?" her kine asked.

"I need you to deliver a letter for me."