After changing into a shift and robe, Genevieve sat in front of Lavern as she finished brushing and braiding her hair. Facing the window, Genevieve looked at the dark landscape while fidgeting with a loose string on her robe. Of course the man just<span style="font-style: italic">had</span>to be right. That was what infuriated her the most. Not that he had grabbed her, quite firmly and most definitely without her permission, but that he had made a very valid point. She knew how to act according to her station in front of others. She knew, but did he? She had been rather petty-No! Why should she begin to feel guilt?<br/><br/>Genevieve huffed again, her breath disturbing a strand of hair as she folded her arms beneath her breasts. She felt so conflicted. On the one hand, Genevieve didn't want to get married, especially to someone she hardly knew, but on the other... His gaze had been so- Genevieve's heart fluttered and she involuntarily put a hand to the base of her neck. She had never felt such a reaction before. Sure, she had been upset, but was her fluster due to something else?<br/><br/>In order to take her mind off of things, Genevieve had Mildred fetch her embroidery hoop and basket. Needlework always seemed to calm her nerves and Genevieve was working on a beautiful silk scarf to wear around her waist. It was of a deep purple, golden scroll work twisting along the edges that bloomed into flowers. While Genevieve wasn't near as good as her mother, she still took pride in her abilities. While she waited, Genevieve opened the windows to her balcony and had Lavern move a chair and lantern. The night air was cool and she would enjoy it. Accompanied by both Mildred and Lavern, Genevieve took up her needle and continued where she had left off.<br/><br/>There was a calmness to the countryside that Genevieve enjoy, but was also conducive for wondering minds. How should she approach the King next? Should she prove her upbringing? He seemed to think she an untrained brat, not surprisingly, and Genevieve had an itch to correct that. Perhaps that could put him off guard enough that her next act of rebellion would be much more effective. He had seemed to be taking her outbursts in stride. Genevieve wondered what he would think of her taking a countryside ride tomorrow and<span style="font-style: italic">accidentally</span>coming across some of his subjects. He had delayed her viewing, but if she went behind his back...just a little? Of course, that would only prove his point. As distracted as she was Genevieve pricked her finger and with a little yelp popped it in her mouth to keep the drop of blood from getting on her scarf. Blast that man.