Sophie sighed, as she slid down to the ground, and leant her head and back against the beautiful marble fireplace, in Tessa's room, pulling a handkerchief across her brow, smiling. She stretched her fingers pianoist-style, giving a satisfying click from her bones.
Sophie sighed, stood up, and gathered her brush, pan, bucket of dirty soapy water, going out of Tessa's bedroom, closing the door with a gentle click behind her.
Sophie wandered down to the laundry room, tipping the filthy water down the stone sink, the sound of Bridget's mournful singing twisting and turning its way from the kitchen to the ears of the Institute's residents.
Sophie groaned, picked up a wooden spoon from the side of the sink, and mimed stabbing herself in the throat with a great passion.
"Sophie, what on earth are you doing? Wouldn't it simply be easier to strangle that parrot in the kitchen?" Tessa suggested dryly, her head around the corner of the entrance to the servants' quarters, her expression open.
Sophie smiled, and suppressed a sudden burst of laughter threatening to spill, running from the servants' quarters', pushing Tessa up the stairs to the quarters', killing herself with suppressed laughter.
"Oh, dear," She giggled, hand half covering her mouth. "If someone saw us nutcases they'd be horrified! You look rather pleasant if I may say so ma'am." Sophie added.
"Soph, what have I told you about calling me ma'am?"
"Be me pardon." Sophie said, rolling her eyes slightly.
"Of course. Sophie, I simply must show you something! Do come." Tessa beckoned, putting her hand through Sophie's lightly, running her up the hallway, Tessa holding her skirts around the middle of her thighs, making Sophie protest in alarm. "Tessa, what if someone sees you? And in those heeled boots, how the bloody hell can you even run in them?" Sophie shouted breathlessly, waving her free hand above her head, indignantly.
"Trust me! I'm a warlock or something of the sort anyway! I've been running in heeled shoes since I was eleven!" Tessa shouted, not a bit breathless.
"Wait, oh, by the angel, my cap's flew off!" Sophie yelled, her brown curls spilling around her face, and excess of pins tangled in her curls.
She let go of Tessa's hand, and dashed as fast as she could with dignity back up through the stone corridor, picking up her cap, also to stare at a pair of highly polished black leather shoes.
"Miss Collins, in what you are endeavoring to do, may I be of any assistance?" asked Gideon quietly, staring down at Sophie, smiling curling around his mouth. He offered his hand, which Sophie took, and stood up straight, fixing her curls up underneath her cap.
"Mr Lightwood, you must remember, you should unless your face wishes to suffer consequences from my fists, which I have not at all, forgot about the little interlude involving the scones." Sophie hissed viciously, tugging her cap down with a furious motion. "And, I must get back to Tessa, and I would much appreciate it if you forgot this moment Mr Lightwood." Sophie finished crisply, indicating that the conversation ended there, quite there.
"Oh, if you will allow me, one last thing Miss Collins." Gideon said, his smile fading, but still there on his lips, like a last glimmering hope. He touched her cheek softly, and planted a butterfly kiss on her cheek, over within a second. He turned swiftly away, giving her a sad smile, turning the corner.
"Army of one," Sophie whispered, holding her labour-roughened hand to where Gideon had kissed her. She bowed her head, and raced back down the corridor, to where she startled, to see Tessa leaning against the stone wall, a strange expression lacing her wide gray eyes. "Ode to bloody nightingale."
