Moonlight Symphony

2nd Note | The Living Doll

Veronique Fiennes 

'Interesting...' A small smile played in the young girl's lips. She had an air of elegance and superiority around her. Her long brown hair swaying a little with the night's breeze and her green orbs sparkled in mischief. She was all alone in the grand hall. Nobody paid attention to her despite her beauty. She was invisible and she wouldn't have it any other way. This makes it easier for her to watch, observe and learn.  

"Veronique Fiennes! What are you doing there, you silly girl? Why don't you mingle with those nice gentlemen?" Her father, Augustine Fiennes said, scolding his child. 

"In a little while, father." Veronique replied. She was never one to socialize with people. Veronique sees them as nuisance with all those nonsense coming out of their mouths. She prefers to be in the company of books. They are less... troublesome. 

"What am I to do with you, child?" Augustine sighed and shook his disappointingly. He had long given up on Veronique. It was as if she had locked herself in her own little world. He loved her dearly; after all, she was his most prized possession. He would like her to live a normal life like others. This was one of the reasons why he brings her to these gatherings. He thinks it would be better for her to meet other people of her kind, to have a change in surroundings instead of being hauled up in the library. He glanced at her sadly before going back to his companions.  

'Leeches.' Veronique thought. She hugged her stuffed bear tightly, Sherlock-as she would call him. Its ebony-colored fur was a contrast to her red and cream colored dress. The fine stitching of her dress and the jewelry adorning it shows her status in society. She strokes its black fur lovingly but her expression says nothing of her actions. She was literally a living doll. 

"Sherlock, it is true isn't it? Birds of the same feather flock together." She said while looking at her father's companions. Their round bellies make her laugh. 'That's where all the people's taxes go. Poor, poor men.' She thought, if only her father can hear her now.  

"Look over there, Sherlock! Those women, aren't they ridiculous?" She looked over at the group of women boasting about their jewelry and gowns. "They're still the whores they are. They just don't understand, do they Sherlock? No amount of fine clothing and charms can hide their filth." She chuckled.  

"Oh! Sherlock! My favorite guests have arrived!" She smiled. "Those gentlemen, those spineless gentlemen. I bet they're only here because their mothers told them to be." She scoffed, not minding the stares others were giving her.  

"What a terrible world we are living in, right Sherlock? People wasting their lives on material things. Blinded by the glitters and glamour. Thinking they know everything because they went to prestigious schools when truly they know nothing." She let her eyes roam the entire hall. The hall was marvelously designed but all she can see are blank, white walls. Then, she sees something unusual, something that aroused her interests.  

"Sherlock, do you see what I see?" She looked at the silver-haired man, intrigued. Veronique followed his every move but it seems that she can't figure him out. The cloud of mystery hung very thickly around this man. He's not an open book like the others.  

"Interesting..." She said, as she continued to watch the man. He was quite famous for a lot of people are approaching him. 'How come I don't know about him?' She pouted. When the stranger met her gaze, she was surprised to see caramel-colored eyes. 

"Who is he?" She whispered. The man, she noticed, was at least 5-6 years older than she was, at least according to his height and his features. 'A businessman? or a lawyer perhaps? He has the winning smile of most of father's comrades. A judge? No, he's too young. A lord? He has to be from a wealthy family to be invited here.' She thought of endless possibilities of who this man could be but all still remained an unsolvable riddle, which was very unusual for her. This man's mystery ignites her curiosity even more. 

"It'd be best if I talked to him but don't you think it'll be strange for me to come to him so suddenly?" She asked in an almost inaudible voice. Then, as if the man heard her, she saw the stranger walking towards her with a smile on his face. She scoffed, 'He is the same as THEM afterall.' 

"What's a beautiful lady like doing here by herself?" The man said, as he was standing only a foot away from her. The man's low voice surprised Veronique, it was the first time she heard a voice as deep and velvety as his. 

'Flattery will get you nowhere.' She thought. "Why does that concern you good sir?" She said dryly. The man chuckled. 

"Very charming indeed, Ms. Fiennes."  

"Wouldn't that be unfair good sir?" Veronique replied, her blank expression remains unchanged. 

"Unfair?" The man raised one of his slightly thick eyebrows. 

"You know who I am but I don't know who you are."  

The man tried hide his grin but failed miserably. He coughed and straightened himself up. 

"Pardon me, young miss, I'm Victor Boilevesque also known as The White Crow." He bowed. "Dr. Gregory Boilevesque's nephew. I'm currently studying medicine at the University of Oxford. " He reached for her hand and gently placed a kiss on the delicate skin. 

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Boilevesque." She slowly withdrew her hand. 

"Likewise, Ms. Fiennes. Would you mind if I sat next to you?" He pointed at the empty chair next to Veronique. 

"Not at all." She watched as the man graciously makes his way to the chair. But before the man could sit Veronique turned to him and said, "Mr. Boilevesque, don't you think you give too much information about yourself? You shouldn't do that to a stranger. It's quite... dangerous." The man just smiled at her. 

There was a long silence between them after that. Both of them relished the time of temporary solitude as they watch the people around them enjoy the party.  

"You never answered my question Ms. Fiennes." He spoke all of a sudden, breaking the silence that hung between them. 

"What question would that be, Mr. Boilesveque?" She said, never taking her eyes off of the crowd. 

"What are you doing here all alone?" He asked, dark eyes directed on Veronique. 

"You know who I am; you must know what my reputation is." She said, frowning. The man let out an amused grin. 

"I am familiar with how they call you a doll but I didn't know it was quite... literal. Just out of curiosity, Ms. Fiennes, Why don't you mingle with others?" He asked, seriously. 

"I find it pointless to associate myself with them. After all, they're just tools for me to quench my thirst."  

"Thirst?" He asked, unable to hide the frown slowly forming on his face. 

"For knowledge." She said simply. Another silence fell between them. Veronique was immersed in observing when Victor stood up. 'He probably got bored talking to me.' She didn't mind him leaving, in fact, it pleased her as it would mean no more distractions but it also irritated her that she wasn't able to figure him out. She wasn't able to satisfy her curiosity even after talking to the man, a very rare event for her.  

But when Victor held out his hand to her and asked her dance, it surprised her to no end but she was able to keep her composure and said yes. She wouldn't pass up the chance to study the man further. 

For the first time in her entire life, Veronique Fiennes left her Sherlock alone to dance with a man.