Inevitability (Invite Only)

After dinner on Friday night, Azalea and Jacques had been dropped off by Victoria and Jackson (Vickson, Azalea was secretly calling them!) to the hotel where the duo had spent the night, Azalea resorting to taking a drop of her potion lest she stayed up the whole night. The next day was spent shopping with Victoria who, as Azalea eventually got out of her, had not a single dress to her name and had taken to wearing pantsuits and trousers. After trying on dozens of outfits in equally as many shops, Victoria finally had ten new dresses to keep erh fashionably dressed through fall and winter. The older brunette had made her promise to go shopping again after new year.

The Slytherin Head herself had walked away from the shopping spree with only a few outfits, and even those two had been stored with Victoria until Azalea came up with a better game plan. Truthfully the witch had no excuse for buying clothes when everything was at ,Murray Manor. Just wanting to do it herself didn't seem like a good enough excuse.

Meeting up with the boys for dinner proved another entertaining affair where Jackson tried not to be smug about beating Jacques at almost every seat. Only Azalea noticed the small smile on the Frenchman's lips and understood his gentlemanly nature had outweighed his competitive streak. The quartet had dinner - this time at a place of Jacques and Azalea's choosing - and cone again was driven back to their hotel by the senator and his legal aide. the good ye was much longer this time as the girls knew they would not be meeting again for quite some time.

Perhaps sensing her sadness, the younger wizard didn't excuse himself right away but asked if Azalea would like to accompany him to the rooftop terrace of their hotel. They ended up staying there until two in the morning, finishing the better part of a bottle of wine after which Jacques escorted her back to her room and wished her a goodnight. They were up again only a few hours later to board Jacques's jet to New York. This time, the flight took no time at all and was spend mostly waking up and eating some breakfast as the jet taxied down a JFK airport strip.

"We're meeting my sister at Eleven Madison Park,' the wizard informed her as they landed. "Dinner, so we have time to get our earrings. We have suites at the Plaza to refresh ourselves in the meantime."

"Oh Dad loves the Plaza," Azalea had commented being helped down the stairs to the ground. "And I think he took me to the same restaurant for my twenty first birthday. I can't remember much of it though." Not that it would matter if she did. Azalea was certain the place must have tinged in the ten odd years since she had visited it.

The Tower Rooms at the plaza were beautiful and came with actual dress options for events. Not that Azalea needed them of course, she had brought her own change of clothes along and was glad to learn it would do for the eatery they had in mind. So, at six o clock sharp, the witch exited her room and descended the large grand staircase to the lobby where she had planned to meet Jacques. the plush carpet underfoot silenced the click of her long Mohegan heels as she walked down the stairs, one hand gently lifting ehr skirt out of the way while her other clutched a small evening purse to her torso. Altogether, the witch cut a modern yet classic vision in her completed ensemble, ready for a night out in the town.

Gentlemanly as always, the French wizard spend enough time admiring her before ushering Azalea into the waiting limo that would take them to Eleven Madison Park. New York's traffic was infamously awful at any time of the day yet their car seem to slink in and out of it with ease. As a result, the couple arrived in less than ten minutes and were fully greeted and seated before the arrival of Elenore Clement.

If Elenore had informed Jacques before that she was bringing a date along, the man showed no signs of it, caught by rare surprise as his sister walked into the room on the arm of a redhead Azalea couldn't place. Though the brunette herself was easy enough to identify. Elegant, graceful and flawless, Elenore Lissette Clement moved just like her mother, the picture of exhaled beauty. Even the maroon she wore accentuated her figure to a fullness that imitated her mother's.

"May I present, Miss Azalea Harrington," Jacques introduced her, only for Elenore to nod her response.

"Lovely to meet you,"

"And you," the older witch responded with a genuine smile. "And I have to say, you are clearly your mother's daughter. I had the pleasure of meeting her ladyship last Christmas and you too possess all the beauty of the world."

"This is my friend, and fellow student at Julliard's, Kevin."

"Nice to met you Kevin," Azalea extended a hand this way to the dazed looking fellow. It took a minute for him to realize he was being spoken to before he took his hand and kissed it lightly. "Hey K- Azalea, pleasure's all mine."

Once the round of introspection were over, Azalea found herself seated cone again in a quartet, this own however being fa different from the good spirited group in Milwaukee. the atmosphere for one was far more formal and for anther, Jacques was clearly not happy that they had an unexpected guest at the table.

"So, I know Elenore studies music at Julliard's but what are your studying Kevin?' Azalea asked, tempting to make polite conversation. "I'm not very musical myself so please go easy on me. Explain as if you're trying to communicate to a layperson please."

The redhead let out a small chuckle at that. 'I doubt that," he supplied before adding "I'm doing my major in stage directing, with a minor in script writing I suppose. I'm still trying to figure things out." Azalea could relate to that, figuring out life was a lifelong process.

"Though Elenore is the real star of our school. Not only does she feature in all the showcases but she just won a very prestigious scholarship before summer. She's just too modest to talk about it."

The older brunette nodded as more flutes of champagne arrived for their table, the waiters so discrete it was almost as if they were house elves. "I know, I hear of her achievements only from her family and friends. Elenore, do you have social media? I would love to listen to some of your work if its out there."

The conversation revolved around Mimosa almost too much in the next few lines of conversation. Elenore had listened but not really taken in the information as worth remembering, as she always did when the younger witch was a topic of conversation. The fondness with which Azalea spoke of Mimosa showed that she either genuinely liked the child, or was content in pretending she did to appease Jacques. Neither of those circumstances sat well with her.

Elenore had simply nodded politely in the right areas at that topic of conversation, allowing Kevin to pick up the pieces of conversation at the end so that she didn't need to. Though, in hindsight, as he stumbled around the subject of parties and trying to find the right answer, Elenore realised she should have answered herself to save him the reddened face.

The topic moved away from the party scenes of the Julliard school, though, in to murkier waters still. As Azalea insisted that she should come to Europe, Elenore's light brown eyes flitted to Jacques. Her brother's attention focused on Azalea and then Kevin. No tell tale sign that he'd put Azalea up to the topic was shown on his features, but her brother was just as devious as the rest of her family, and just because she could not see the manipulation on his features, it did not mean that she was unaware.

"I don't think we'll be coming to Europe any time soon." Elenore replied, not unkindly, but with the edge of certainty that showed she was not going to be swayed by the offer. "This is our final year at Julliard's which will be a difficult time to travel without falling behind, and from there, we have the decision of whether we'll be completing our Masters, or another avenue if it appears." The latter was said to soften the initial statement, but it was no less true. Elenore had no inclination to return to Europe, truth be told. For her, the Masters route would follow her current studies, and from there...

She had two years to work out that plan.

Jacques' features had darkened by that point, though, the line of his jaw tightened.

It was barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but Elenore knew.

"Perhaps," Jacques started as their main courses arrived. A pan seared ducks breast atop a bed of collard greens that Elenore really didn't wish to eat but would make careful work of regardless. "You might spend Christmas at home with Maman, Papa, Grandmere, Mimosa and I. We've all missed you terribly. Christmas has not been the same without you there."

The mention of Grandmere had helped Jacques cause for a moment. The younger Clement missed the eldest Clement family member fiercely, their letters being all she could do to feel close to the matriarch now that distance separated them so fiercely. But the notion of returning home, to be pitted against Mimosa anew now that she'd found her own place here in New York... with Kevin.

"Excuse me," Elenore managed to Azalea and Kevin.

"Devez-vous faire cela devant nos invités?" The question came in an even tone, the small smile upon Elenore's lips would lighten the words just as much as it would keep Azalea and Kevin from understanding what she was saying. Though, undoubtedly the shift in language would be enough to tell them both that they were not being quite as polite any longer.

"Tu me laisses très peu de choix, ma chère sœur." Jacques replied softly to the accusation after wiping his mouth with his napkin. His eyes met hers with a challenge, they both knew there was only so long they could converse in French before it would become uncomfortable for both guests, and Jacques was never the kind of man who wished to be rude before guests.

The challenge was of her, and how much Elenore wished to be rude in front of company.

"S'il vous plaît?"

"Non."

"Pour Maman et Papa?"

"Non."

"Moi?"

"Non."

"Alors, peut-être pour vous? Se cacher comme ça n'est pas bon pour toi, ma chère sœur."

Elenore's eyes lit brightly with the fire of fury at the accusation her brother had cast. Her posture had not changed, the pleasant smile upon her lips had not fizzled away, but her eyes blazed. Much like her father, Elenore Clement's temper was not easy to satiate, and being told by her brother that she was hiding herself away, and needed to return home for her own good was not something she had come to the restaurant to hear.

"Et essayer si fort de réunir une famille brisée ne vous rend pas service non plus." Elenore rebuked. The guests at the table would not need to understand the words spoken between the siblings to understand that Elenore's return had not been nice. The usually soft tones of the French witch's voice held the venom with which she kicked back at her brother's suggestion.

"Elenore-"

"Non, Jacques, je ne suis pas venu ici pour être enseigné par vous." Elenore replied, lifting her serviette from her lap and placing it carefully on the table. "I think it's time we left, Kevin." She told the man beside her softly, getting to her feet.

"Sit down, Elenore." Jacques tried to tell her, his tone adopting the authoritative tone he wished he held over her.

The younger witch ignored him, though, already halfway across the room.

"Pourquoi ne comprenez-vous pas que nous vous aimons et que nous voulons que vous rentriez à la maison?"

The question was not dealt with a raised tone, but it managed to reach the witch no less. Elenore's footsteps paused. She couldn't have been more than five steps from freedom, and yet here she was, falling just short of her goal once more.

The French witch turned back towards her brother in that moment. Kevin's features remained in much the same state of confusion that she'd seen before when she'd slipped back in to French, and Azalea's eyes didn't know where they wanted to look between the two siblings as she tried to work it out, too.

"Why don't I understand you love me and why won't I come home?" The witch translated, not because she cared to help Azalea, but so that no one could pretend to be unaware of the situation she'd been posed. "The Palace has not been my home for more than a decade, Jacques. A home is a place where everybody loves you without conditions being met to be loved. A home is where you can be yourself and nobody tries to hold you back.

"New York is my home. The Lord and Lady Clement do not love me. You do not love me. If you did, you would let me happy." The witch paused, her eyes on her brother with determination set behind them. "If you loved me, you would trust me. You would know I would return 'home', because I would have something to come back for.

"There's nothing for me at the Palace. Grandmere has always been right in that respect, I guess. That's why she encourages me to stay here, and to do what makes me happy, because she loves me. She's always loved me.

"But you... you don't love me. You only pretend to."

With that, Elenore turned back to the door which opened before her. The lobby of Eleven Madison Park brought forth the buzz from the main dining room. Elenore Clement moved soundlessly through the front doors. The Clement limousine sat waiting for the two of them, but Elenore turned away from it at the bottom of the steps and back to Kevin who'd followed her wordlessly.

"Please... take me anywhere but my apartment."

A simple request, but one the witch knew Kevin would always understand.



Devez-vous faire cela devant nos invités? -- Must you do this in front of our guests?
Tu me laisses très peu de choix, ma chère sœur -- You leave me with very little choice, my darling sister
Alors, peut-être pour vous? Se cacher comme ça n'est pas bon pour toi, ma chère sœur. -- Then, perhaps for yourself? Hiding away like this is not good for you, my darling sister.
Et essayer si fort de réunir une famille brisée ne vous rend pas service non plus. -- And trying so very hard to bring a broken family together is not doing you any favours, either.
Non, Jacques, je ne suis pas venu ici pour être enseigné par vous. -- No, Jacques, I did not come here to be lectured by you.
Pourquoi ne comprenez-vous pas que nous vous aimons et que nous voulons que vous rentriez à la maison? -- Why do you not understand that we love you, and want you to come home?