Timestamp: 35th of Fall, 512AV After a tiring day at the shop, Rosela came back to find her home shivering cold. She needed to find a good hearth, or even a measly firepit. As the weather got colder, Rosela was starting to wonder if Seduction wasn’t best left for nicer weather. Her cloak started to become a constant accessory on her trips outdoors, and it was hard to get anyone to check her out when everything from the neck down was bundled up. Winter blues was starting to set in, even before winter had arrived. The Art of Seduction only had a small section on cold weather, proclaiming that the master seductress didn’t need to flash skin to snare a catch. In fact, it touted, winter was the best time, as the smallest amount of skin could easily fascinate one starved of it. In the summer, when many women were baring it all, seduction could be more difficult. Wind howled outside, and Rosela tightened her fur lined cloak around herself, snug for the moment. The book lay in front of her on the table, with a single hand snaking out to turn the pages. Branches rattled and leaves blew outside, but Rosela was thanking her splurge of the cloak purchase. Apparently, touch worked the same way in the winter months. After all day bundled up in coats and mittens, who wouldn’t find the gentle touch of a woman electrifying? Snuggling deeper into the lining of her hood, Rosela licked her lips and let her imagination briefly run away with her. She’d never been called electrifying, but she’d like to be. The Touch was the next step in the path of seduction, and was just as easy to pull off as the Look. There were obviously different kinds of touches, though their effect depended on many factors. Friendly touches were easy to introduce early in the conversation, but one had to be mindful of whether the culture permitted such contact. Offensive physical contact was to be remedied as soon as possible. An explanation of cultural differences was a useful conversation starter to draw away the discomfort and turn attention back to more positive topics. Closing the book gently, Rosela curled all six arms around her knees. Her plain wooden dinner chair was hard on her bottom, thought the padding of the cloak allowed her to stay in it longer than usual. It seemed a good time to go out and get someone to buy her something. She hadn’t forgotten the night at the White Crane, which had been such a wild success in getting men to dote on her. However, drink was fleeting. As fun as it was, she didn’t need it, and would have much rathered he spent those 80 gold mizas on something else for her. Like a big, fluffy fur cloak, just like the one sitting in her shop right now. The what wasn’t the problem, she’d accept anything that was free, the problem was where. Not many people would be outside right now, so her usual haunt of the Warrens was out. She needed someplace with class that would filter out the broke ones for her. What was that tea house called? On the far side of Knirin Gardens? The Almond Blossom. Come to think of it, she was rather hungry, and come up with a very interesting idea she wanted to try out. |