Luliana

[dragonlady7]

sitting

via https://ift.tt/3nyoulp

In honor of there now being art https://bomberqueen17.tumblr.com/post/673501325228736512/so-i-beta-read-the-excellent-bomberqueen17s, I have gone and excavated my first detailed non-POV description of Luliana from the as-yet-not-in-publishable-format Ciri POV sequel/companion to Fit For Pearls, which I had not yet had Hobbit beta-read and which they very accurately managed to represent anyway!

Things brightened considerably one day, when in the midst of preparing for a meeting, her ladies-in-waiting buzzing around being irritating about her jewelry, Ciri caught sight of the single most attractive woman she’d ever seen.

Ciri had been raised by royalty, had seen the glittering nobility, the beautiful courtesans that sometimes decorated the arms of powerful men. She had lived among sorceresses, beautiful to the point of inhumanity; she had seen Yennefer of Vengerberg naked, had seen Margarita Laux-Antilles in the bath, had beheld the pinnacle of just how beautiful the feminine form could be.

But this woman– she was short, and plump, dressed in the drab off-black decorated with black that signaled she was a lower noble or high-level servant, possibly both. She had a fabric folio overstuffed with papers, and had ink stains on her fingers– clever fingers, plump hands with graceful little tapering fingers, nails neatly trimmed, the hands of a clerk or a seamstress– and her face was round, her skin a medium brown, her hair true-black, her eyes large and dark and her mouth a perfect lush bow. She was listening to Willena giving instructions, and had her folio clutched to her chest, and her eyes were so lively and intelligent as she listened that Ciri completely forgot who she was talking to or what she had been doing, and just stared at her.

After a moment, Callista said, “Princess?” and Ciri dragged her attention off the beautiful girl. (Woman. She wasn’t a child. She was likely Ciri’s age, or a little older. Maybe married. But her plump form wasn’t matronly; she wasn’t pregnant, she was just round, and perfect, and self-contained, and she looked soft, like the dip between her hips and her breasts would be the perfect place to sink both your hands into and have them perfectly surrounded, like her thighs must be soft and–)

“Princess,” Callista said again, and Ciri shook her head slightly to clear it, turning to look at her.

“Sorry,” she said, “yes?” (Your picture was not posted)