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Isabella Valentine may not have been the lady of wealth she had been when she was younger, her father having squandered most of the family's assets on increasingly bizarre alchemical studies, but she was most certainly not penniless. Budgeting things out, she had much planned for her lover, Setsuka, a woman born of a Japanese father by a Portuguese mother, to experience when her venture to London was complete. Setsuka had never seen the British Isles, despite having occasionally visited the West; Ivy had told her much about them when she was making a brief visit to Japan herself, having scoured Nagasaki for particularly rare artifacts vital to her own research.
With one arm in her blue velvet jacket slung over Setsuka's shoulders as they both rode through town in a roofed carriage, Ivy was thankful for the occasional obstacle that stood in her way on the trip to Nagasaki. Had it not been for such delays, she might not have had the lucky timing to ever met this beautiful lady.
Looking down—by God, even being just half a head taller than Setsuka made her seem so much smaller when nestled into Ivy's arm—Ivy's inhumanly blue eyes met Setsuka's, hers the color of ice as opposed to the noonday sky, and Setsuka gave a small, tired smile. The day had been a long one, after all, and it seemed that Setsuka was content to rest against Ivy as opposed to in a bed. "Keep this up," Ivy remarked, "and I might just have to carry you inside when we get back home."
"Mmm, sore wa īdesu ne, itoshī hito; that would be nice, my love," Setsuka muttered, translating to English to compensate for Ivy's reasonably stunted understanding of Japanese. "You happen to be more than strong enough, and how could I say no to you holding me close?"
The road conditions in London had been steadily improving over the past few decades, and it really showed; even as recently as Ivy's teenage years, the road to the Valentine estate had been more well-worn earth than anything resembling pavement, but now there were delightfully flat cobblestones beneath the carriage wheels, minimizing the rocking. Ivy rolled her eyes, but smiled genially in return. "As though we won't be closer for longer when the night is done."
Setsuka giggled lightly. "That would be even nicer, I think," she said, closing her eyes. "But we still have a few minutes, minutes I would like to spend as comfortably as possible. And under your arm is the most comfortable place in the world right now."