"Curtsy, that's it dear. You're getting it. Now all you have to do is move your foot a little to the left…" Olivia sighed as she twisted her tiny ankle yet again at the will of her instructor. She was moaning inside her head at the uncomfortable feeling in her legs, as she had been trying this curtsy for hours. She wanted to stop and sit down. She was done with anything to do with lady-like gestures and learning to speak with your fan, not your mouths. She was always looking around for some excuse to suddenly leave the situation.
Olivia Flaveshum was 18 years old. Her father had become the royal toymaker for the young children of the royal family, and as a result was very rich. However, she didn't start out that way. She was raised in a very small toy shop with her father. Her father had been abducted, and she had the rare privilege of traveling with Basil of Baker Street. Nevertheless, this story is for another time.
Since her unfortunate mishap with Basil, she couldn't stop noticing little things about the way people talked or moved that defined who they were. She truly enjoyed being able to tell who people were, just by the way they moved their hand, or in what condition their shoes were in. She had, though probably unobserved in doing so, always watched Basil's methods, and after reading book after book and researched all kinds of trivia and "elementary" as Basil liked to call it, she believed herself quite good at being the ideal detective.
Unfortunately, "ladies are not detectives", or that was what her nanny would say to her. When her nanny had said such a thing, Olivia started spouting knowledge about how the woman was raised, some of her values, and that she used to work as the manager of a brothel before becoming a nanny. Of course, this was all true, and the nanny resigned the next day. Her father was internally angry, for he was the nicest man in the world, and could never be mad at a child who had lost her temper.
Finally, the curtsying lessons were over, and Olivia was free to retire to her room. She limped down the hall, and swiftly went to her drawers the moment the doors had closed of her room. She rummaged throughout her entire petticoat drawer, and finally found it. Basil's hat. She sighed, and slowly placed it on her head, feeling a sudden pang of loneliness fill her heart. She longed to do things…not sit around all day like a sausage on a stick (bad simile, I know) She didn't know how, but she was going to find a way to have an adventure.
Okay...so as much as you would like it to be, this is not totally zoned around Olivia...this is kind of a predecessor to what's to come. You'll understand in...maybe...six chapters...? If you can stand my horrid writing that long.