He had found her reading. Intellectual, educated, aristocratic, he wished to admire her. However, as soon as he spoke, she corrected his lackluster english, and just like that, an arrow shot his chest, turning the chalk of his ego to dust. Nikhil, granted, did not know the proper intonations of the british language yet, he only knew of the immense effort he had put into learning the language. In turn, Lady Fleur, if she even deserved the title, had made his work feel as though it had been for nothing.
Beneath his expression concealing disappointment for the sake of propriety, he had held flowers he believed Belle might appreciate as a gift. After what felt like a complete rejection, he took the bunch of them and moved his hand behind his back lamentfully, regretting his previous optimism. It felt that he was in the previous night’s ball room again, surrounded by people of whom none wished to dance with him.
Verbally, he ignored her correction, and allowed her to continue. His sister. Lord, what had his sister done now? Nikhil wondered to himself what Priti might have done to become so relevant in this community. A part of him wished to envy her attainment of Belle’s affection before him, however another was hatching plans. If lady fleur was a friend of Priti’s, she could also become a friend of his.
Before that, though, Nikhil noticed a grammatical error in her own speech. “Receive it.” He corrected her in a tone too polite to be mean, but too strategic to be labeled simply as ‘polite.’ The lady was owed informance of her due humility, and he did not see trouble in a mere reiteration. Perhaps she would anger, but there was also the possibility that she listen, and they reach a better understanding.
“And I am not sure of which invitation you speak.” He continued his response. “Could you elaborate to refresh my memory?” He asked, hoping she could share with him what prompted the dialogue. Also, he would have been appreciative of an explanation as to how Belle might know Priti, because although he found the woman alluring, his top priority remained to surveil his sister.
She offered him a seat, and Nikhil quickly realized he had been standing since he did not feel exactly welcome into the room she inhabited. “Why thank you.” He said humbly, sitting at an appropriate distance from her before inevitable revealing the bouquet.
He felt himself grow timid when he pulled the flowers to his ventral side. “I… had brought these.” He smiled, seeming a bit intimidated by her so serious demeanor. He had begun to think she was did not share multiple traits with the woman he had imagined her to be. Still, he watched her reaction in hope she would appreciate his gift.