When Tilda was finally alone, a rush of breath left her lungs that bows her over so that she had to grasp the chair to keep from falling. She was tired, drained from the day that had already been. Raqiza's lips had left a burning wake on her forehead, the tenderness of the gesture taking her completely by surprise and leaving her mind reeling for answers. In a way, she now felt as lost as she was sure Auguste must have.<br/><br/>But there was no time to let herself think. Thinking was for night and darkness. And she was sure that the kitchen would be abuzz with rumors as to why she had been meeting.<br/><br/>As she had expected,  her absence had been marked from the kitchen. Krysta and Dell were nearly done with the evening meal and Brunhilde was stomping around like a tyrant, shouting orders until her shrewd eyes fell upon Tilda and narrowed, focusing on her tea-service-less hands. Brunhilde was a big woman, wide of hip and deep of voice. Her eyes were brown, but somehow cold and her hair was swept back harshly and secured at her neck. It did not flatter her wide face. Striding forward, she stopped just in front of the much smaller Tilda, crossing her thick arms over her bosom.<br/><br/>"Did you forget the service? Stupid girl, go and fetch it. Really, you'd better bring that head down from the clouds and be quick about it else you'll find yourself in the gutters with the real wretches. We've no time for day dreamers here." Brunhilde could be a harsh woman, but at least her punishments were straightforward and not the mental torture that Raqiza seemed to excel at. Heaving a forlorn sigh, she relinquished herself to the fact that today was simply not going to get better. The best she could hope for was to move quickly and keep her nose down before anyone else accosted her.<br/><br/>Tilda. quietly came into the parlor room, her eyes trained on the floor. Even if she had not noticed Auguste in the library it would have been impossible for her to be unaware of him now. Especially not when unaware was all she wanted to be of him. Definiant even to the end, Tilda felt a warmth spread across her face that she knew would bring redness with it. Damn her fair skin for blushing so easily.