Her room was not terribly big or small, it was neither lavish or bare, cold nor warm, near or far. It settled comfortably in the middle, and it pleased little Bridget. Of course, she did not show this pleasure at being average because she was still angry. After visiting the manor, Elizabeth had wasted no time in virtually flying to Earl Henry's. He hadn't even wanted to see Bridget, but begrudgingly did... and was suddenly delighted with her. He'd pulled Elizabeth aside, and Bridget could only assume he asked about what Richard's intentions might be. Then he watched her with even more curiousity than before. After that, there had been a small lecture about behaving, then he'd had the audacity to tell her that she should do her best to hold Richard's attentions. She told him no.

You can only imagine how that fared, and now Bridget was a Lady of the Court and was being ignored and unacknowledged by Earl Henry; given that she didn't like him, this didn't concern her. He'd made it a point to hate her for 16 years, why should she make any effort to be kind to him? In fact, not being in his favor was her goal at this time, since it meant whatever Richard had planned for her might be ruined. Bridget still tossed and turned over that issue, not knowing if he considered her a prospect for a new wife, or if he truly did want her as an advisor and strong member of the Harleston court. Or maybe she just amused him. Violetta had left some twenty minutes ago, dismissed by Bridget who was feeling quite stir-crazy but, aside from 'required' things like church services, she stubbornly refused to leave her room for enjoyment.

At this moment, she sat at the desk by her small window, staring out aimlessly. She was waiting for her food to arrive - she'd called on a servant, a pretty girl with a strange accent - but also dreaming. It had been two days since she'd entered this room, and already it reflected the tranquil childishness of her - the furniture was all stained very dark, and had come with the room, but that was where the similarities ended. The bedding was a strange, smokey grey in color with stars embroidered on one side of the trim and slowly extending around the entire edge - it kept her busy, and she was exceptionally talented in that regard. There were also several wall hangings adorning the stone - bright, vivid scenes. One depicted a unicorn and a fairy, another a fantasy queen in a tall, tall tower. The third was smaller and hung by the desk, showing a small girl with green eyes and brown hair picking flowers. That one had been done by her mother as a child, and Elizabeth allowed her to borrow all three to decorate her room. There was also a small white rug on the floor, something she'd made herself and disliked.

In all, it was a comfortable room, and Bridget had many more plans for it - she was known for often going overboard with the decorations in her rooms, though rarely did this trait leak out onto her choice of fashion or any other rooms she might have. She simply liked to dream in a place that sparked the imagination. There was a knock at the door now, and dreamily Bridget spoke, "Come in, come in."