Frowning, Mavelle yanked her hand back from Railtus. She couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. She’d picked a topic which obviously mattered to him, and tried to ask interesting questions about it, and suddenly he started speaking to her with a mixture of condescension and contempt. Mavelle was not accustomed to being so obviously judged by the men she met, and she certainly wasn’t accustomed to being found lacking. She didn’t like the way it felt.
“Well,” she sniffed, turning her face away from Railtus to hide the tears that had begun to sting her eyes. “If you have it all figured out, then I suppose there’s no point in me saying anything at all. Please ignore my stupid opinions.”
Still following the stone path, they entered a lavish rose garden. At its center, a stone table awaited their arrival, surrounded on all sides by blossoms in countless shades of pink, red, and yellow. Petals covered the ground like a carpet made from silky scales. It would be hard to imagine a more romantic place. But Mavelle no longer cared about romance. She didn’t care that Railtus was family, she didn’t care that he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. If he thought he could treat her with such disrespect, then he could take Ydren’s Spear -- whatever that was -- and stick it up his...
“Please. Eat.” Mavelle’s voice sounded hollow as she gestured at the food she’d arranged to have brought out. During their earlier conversation, she’d gotten the impression that Railtus might prefer simple food to anything exotic, so the spread included fresh apples, goat cheese drizzled in honey, toasted almonds, slices of cold ham, and crisp herb crackers.
After extending her invitation, Mavelle sat down. But she wasn’t hungry. In fact, the only thing that kept her from turning around and marching back into the house was the lecture she anticipated getting from her mother if she abandoned a guest. Avoiding Railtus’s eyes, Mavelle watched a bee flitting amongst the rose blossoms.
Family Affairs
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Sir Karsimir
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While initially Railtus wanted to resist as Mavelle yanked her hand away, with fingers interlaced, it would be difficult to do so without hurting her. Thus, he let go, stung at her sudden reaction.
When she turned away, he knew he had done something wrong. Exactly what was unknown to him.
"I said nothing of the sort, my lady. It was not my wish to offend you. I do not understand how I did so. Please, tell me what I said wrong to hurt you so, that I may avoid doing such in future."
Of course, Mavelle was storming along the garden. Perhaps the rose garden was beautiful, Railtus did not care. What he saw was another human being in pain, one more human than he was. Worse, it was his doing.
He followed, feeling the crushing of the rose petals beneath his feet. A part of his mind wondered what the consequences of his mistep would be. Now angry with himself, he forced his mind towards the most important consequence he could think of, Mavelle was upset.
Then she told him to eat. Like that was about to happen.
"No, Lady Mavelle, you are more important." Rather than sitting, he crouched down in front of her. "I have spoken wrongly, and done harm which I did not intend. I apologise. Allow me to ask that there not be anger between us, however you deem I must earn it." He set down his shield on the ground beside him as he spoke, deliberately lowering his posture so that he was not gazing down on her.
Making some effort towards eye-contact, Railtus asked the next question. "Lady Mavelle, do you wish me to leave?"
When she turned away, he knew he had done something wrong. Exactly what was unknown to him.
"I said nothing of the sort, my lady. It was not my wish to offend you. I do not understand how I did so. Please, tell me what I said wrong to hurt you so, that I may avoid doing such in future."
Of course, Mavelle was storming along the garden. Perhaps the rose garden was beautiful, Railtus did not care. What he saw was another human being in pain, one more human than he was. Worse, it was his doing.
He followed, feeling the crushing of the rose petals beneath his feet. A part of his mind wondered what the consequences of his mistep would be. Now angry with himself, he forced his mind towards the most important consequence he could think of, Mavelle was upset.
Then she told him to eat. Like that was about to happen.
"No, Lady Mavelle, you are more important." Rather than sitting, he crouched down in front of her. "I have spoken wrongly, and done harm which I did not intend. I apologise. Allow me to ask that there not be anger between us, however you deem I must earn it." He set down his shield on the ground beside him as he spoke, deliberately lowering his posture so that he was not gazing down on her.
Making some effort towards eye-contact, Railtus asked the next question. "Lady Mavelle, do you wish me to leave?"
Last edited by Sir Karsimir on Thu Feb 22, 2007 1:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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When Railtus crouched before her, Mavelle couldn’t keep from glancing down at him. Part of her wanted to stay mad, to hide behind a self-righteous wall of anger. But Railtus’s apology, and the sincerity on his face, slowly coaxed her lips into a hesitant smile. She’d never expected him to speak kindly to her again. The fact that he was doing so now gave Mavelle the courage to get past her own defensiveness and examine the true reasons for her outburst.
“No, Railtus. I don’t want you to leave.” Reaching out, she let her fingers trail down his cheek. “It scares me a little, how much I don’t want you to leave.”
As a slight breeze stirred the fallen rose petals, Mavelle watched them dance around her feet like tiny ballerinas. She wasn’t used to talking about her true feelings. And, unlike the thrill of debating ideas, this conversation wasn’t accompanied by any rush of adrenalin. It just felt scary and awkward. “Maybe it’s just because I’m beautiful, but people like me. I never need to work very hard at it. I guess...I guess maybe I take it for granted.”
“Except with you, I tried. I tried really hard. And it all seemed to be going well, except then I said something, or did something, that upset you. I thought you didn’t like me anymore.” Again, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “So I thought that if you didn’t like me, then I wouldn’t like you, and that would keep it from hurting.”
Mavelle sighed. It all sounded so stupid and childish. But it was the truth. “But I do like you, Railtus. And I hope you’ll be honest, and tell me what I did wrong, so you can keep liking me.”
“No, Railtus. I don’t want you to leave.” Reaching out, she let her fingers trail down his cheek. “It scares me a little, how much I don’t want you to leave.”
As a slight breeze stirred the fallen rose petals, Mavelle watched them dance around her feet like tiny ballerinas. She wasn’t used to talking about her true feelings. And, unlike the thrill of debating ideas, this conversation wasn’t accompanied by any rush of adrenalin. It just felt scary and awkward. “Maybe it’s just because I’m beautiful, but people like me. I never need to work very hard at it. I guess...I guess maybe I take it for granted.”
“Except with you, I tried. I tried really hard. And it all seemed to be going well, except then I said something, or did something, that upset you. I thought you didn’t like me anymore.” Again, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “So I thought that if you didn’t like me, then I wouldn’t like you, and that would keep it from hurting.”
Mavelle sighed. It all sounded so stupid and childish. But it was the truth. “But I do like you, Railtus. And I hope you’ll be honest, and tell me what I did wrong, so you can keep liking me.”
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Sir Karsimir
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Unsure what else to do, Railtus took her hand and raised it to her lips, the kiss on her fingers showing his true heart on the matter.
"Thank you, Mavelle." he whispered strongly, "I cannot imagine why you would feel this way." Then he hesitated a moment, "Or so strongly." Still holding her hand, he reached the other up to rest on her shoulder.
"I still like you, Mavelle, I never stopped." Railtus promised. "Have no fear of me. If you upset me that does not change things. We can be upset because of people we like." Deep down, he knew that 'like' was the wrong word for what was really going on right now, but the more accurate word was too frightening for her to hear just yet. "By what I just saw, hating me does not stop it hurting, does it?"
In light of all that just was, Railtus felt equally silly speaking about what just was. The fact that he did not for a moment judge Mavelle harshly did not make a difference to that fact. Well, she had asked him to be honest. "It was... the thrill of the debate. As you may have guessed, I feel very strongly about this." adding a faint touch of humour, "What we were talking about, it was like you found a puzzle, a game. For me, these people really do suffer and die. It is not an idea the same way, it is real people in pain. Do you understand where I am coming from?" asked Railtus, his voice imploring and hopeful.
Standing straight, he took hold of both her hands and drew the lady to her feet. They stood so close their toes were touching. "Should you think me upset, trust me. The last thing I would wish is to be feared."
"Thank you, Mavelle." he whispered strongly, "I cannot imagine why you would feel this way." Then he hesitated a moment, "Or so strongly." Still holding her hand, he reached the other up to rest on her shoulder.
"I still like you, Mavelle, I never stopped." Railtus promised. "Have no fear of me. If you upset me that does not change things. We can be upset because of people we like." Deep down, he knew that 'like' was the wrong word for what was really going on right now, but the more accurate word was too frightening for her to hear just yet. "By what I just saw, hating me does not stop it hurting, does it?"
In light of all that just was, Railtus felt equally silly speaking about what just was. The fact that he did not for a moment judge Mavelle harshly did not make a difference to that fact. Well, she had asked him to be honest. "It was... the thrill of the debate. As you may have guessed, I feel very strongly about this." adding a faint touch of humour, "What we were talking about, it was like you found a puzzle, a game. For me, these people really do suffer and die. It is not an idea the same way, it is real people in pain. Do you understand where I am coming from?" asked Railtus, his voice imploring and hopeful.
Standing straight, he took hold of both her hands and drew the lady to her feet. They stood so close their toes were touching. "Should you think me upset, trust me. The last thing I would wish is to be feared."
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Falcon Bertille
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Even after Railtus finished his kiss, Mavelle’s fingers lingered, resting lightly against his lips.
“Do you really not know, Railtus? Can you truly not imagine why you might stir such strong feelings in a young lady’s heart?” Railtus’s ignorance about his own desirability surprised Mavelle. For the first time during their conversation, she felt like she was the worldly one. “The women who inhabit your father’s land must be oblivious indeed, if they’ve never spoken of your fine looks, your graceful manners, your kindness, and your selfless heroism.”
“Or perhaps...” Mavelle tilted her head, and bits of sunlight seemed to become trapped in her hair like thousands of shimmering fish caught in a golden net. “Perhaps they did tell you. But you didn’t believe them.”
The thought saddened her. It seemed tragic that someone like Railtus might be unable to accept his own worth.
“I’m glad that you still like me. Because you’re right -- hating you doesn’t stop the hurting. Nothing does, I suppose, when someone likes someone who doesn’t like them in return. Another detail that my brother appears to have left out of his stories.”
Mavelle listened intently as Railtus spoke about what she’d done to upset him. When he finished, she nodded. “I understand. And I apologize. I’ve never met these people, never even seen them, so it was too easy for me to think of them as only theoretical constructs in an interesting debate. I should not have been so glib. If we were discussing my family, and someone showed equal disregard for their problems, I would have been as offended as you. I shall...I shall try to think about all that you’ve told me.”
Gripping Railtus’s hands in hers, Mavelle allowed him to draw her to her feet. Then, pressing even closer to him, she rested her cheek against the sun-warmed metal of his breastplate. “I’ll never fear you. You make me feel so safe.”
“Do you really not know, Railtus? Can you truly not imagine why you might stir such strong feelings in a young lady’s heart?” Railtus’s ignorance about his own desirability surprised Mavelle. For the first time during their conversation, she felt like she was the worldly one. “The women who inhabit your father’s land must be oblivious indeed, if they’ve never spoken of your fine looks, your graceful manners, your kindness, and your selfless heroism.”
“Or perhaps...” Mavelle tilted her head, and bits of sunlight seemed to become trapped in her hair like thousands of shimmering fish caught in a golden net. “Perhaps they did tell you. But you didn’t believe them.”
The thought saddened her. It seemed tragic that someone like Railtus might be unable to accept his own worth.
“I’m glad that you still like me. Because you’re right -- hating you doesn’t stop the hurting. Nothing does, I suppose, when someone likes someone who doesn’t like them in return. Another detail that my brother appears to have left out of his stories.”
Mavelle listened intently as Railtus spoke about what she’d done to upset him. When he finished, she nodded. “I understand. And I apologize. I’ve never met these people, never even seen them, so it was too easy for me to think of them as only theoretical constructs in an interesting debate. I should not have been so glib. If we were discussing my family, and someone showed equal disregard for their problems, I would have been as offended as you. I shall...I shall try to think about all that you’ve told me.”
Gripping Railtus’s hands in hers, Mavelle allowed him to draw her to her feet. Then, pressing even closer to him, she rested her cheek against the sun-warmed metal of his breastplate. “I’ll never fear you. You make me feel so safe.”
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Sir Karsimir
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In place of words, Railtus let go of Mavelle's hands and folded his arms around her. Of all he could say in response, none of it seemed to matter at this moment. No difference would be made by speaking of the women back home, of how he knew nothing of matters of the heart, that the only options for romance back in the duchy he remembered were to seduce young peasant girls whom he could never marry and thus leave them only poorer and tarnished for the meeting.
Instead, he held her to him, wanting to embrace all the tighter but fearing to hurt her against his steel garb. Seeing an upturned cheek before him as she rested the other on his armour, he kissed the cheek lightly and lingeringly.
All the courtly tales from minstrels and troubadours declared now as the time for a deeper and more meaningful kiss than a cheek could offer. Defying those tales was a new experience for Railtus. Without a doubt he cared for Mavelle, and was very understandably attracted to her, but such a stranger to matters of the heart had no way of knowing the difference between love and being intoxicated by the fantasy of being her knight in shining armour. There was no guarantee that he could give her his heart... If it was even his to give.
And he would not take advantage of her that way.
Holding her so close as he was, with the scent of her perfume flooding his senses and the warmth of her touch reaching his heart like inner fire, it was all he could do to hold on to that thought.
Now he had to speak, to drag his mind away from her allure. "I know." he whispered, referring to her apology. "I was less offended than you think. It never occurred to me that it showed so much, or that I spoke to you so harshly." Long hair like spun gold cushioned his cheek, a feeling both soothing and exciting at the same time. Without realising, he came dangerously close to nuzzling territory.
With everything as it was, Railtus tried his level best not to enjoy the embrace too much.
He failed.
Instead, he held her to him, wanting to embrace all the tighter but fearing to hurt her against his steel garb. Seeing an upturned cheek before him as she rested the other on his armour, he kissed the cheek lightly and lingeringly.
All the courtly tales from minstrels and troubadours declared now as the time for a deeper and more meaningful kiss than a cheek could offer. Defying those tales was a new experience for Railtus. Without a doubt he cared for Mavelle, and was very understandably attracted to her, but such a stranger to matters of the heart had no way of knowing the difference between love and being intoxicated by the fantasy of being her knight in shining armour. There was no guarantee that he could give her his heart... If it was even his to give.
And he would not take advantage of her that way.
Holding her so close as he was, with the scent of her perfume flooding his senses and the warmth of her touch reaching his heart like inner fire, it was all he could do to hold on to that thought.
Now he had to speak, to drag his mind away from her allure. "I know." he whispered, referring to her apology. "I was less offended than you think. It never occurred to me that it showed so much, or that I spoke to you so harshly." Long hair like spun gold cushioned his cheek, a feeling both soothing and exciting at the same time. Without realising, he came dangerously close to nuzzling territory.
With everything as it was, Railtus tried his level best not to enjoy the embrace too much.
He failed.
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Falcon Bertille
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A soft sigh of contentment escaped Mavelle as Railtus wrapped her in his arms. Many men had desired her, and she’d reveled in the thrill of their pursuit, rewarding a lucky few with her smile or her agreement to join them for a dance. But she’d always been the one in charge of the game, the one making up whatever rules pleased her in that moment. Never before had she simply surrendered herself to another’s embrace. Never before had she come so close to...losing. And oh, as sweet as it felt to win, losing felt even better.
Railtus’s kiss sent a rush of warmth through Mavelle. It was like he’d become the sun and she’d become a flower -- budding, blooming, living her entire life in a matter of seconds. Because when the sun caresses a flower, teasing it awake, the flower has no choice. Mavelle’s breath fluttered in her lungs. If not for the strength of Railtus’s embrace, somehow holding her together, she was certain that she’d dissolve into a thousand brightly colored petals and swirl away on the wind.
Was this how it felt for the women Phelan bedded? And if so, how did it feel when he left them? Because, right then, Mavelle didn’t want Railtus to ever leave. Not ever.
Yet, even in her blissful state, Mavelle couldn’t forget that her father might show up at any minute. And he was unlikely to be impressed by the sight of some stranger cuddling his daughter. If she was the only one risking his displeasure, Mavelle might have taken that chance. But, now more than ever, she wanted to her father to like Railtus. So, with deep reluctance, she slipped from his embrace, murmuring “My father may be here soon” as an apologetic explanation.
However, Mavelle wasn’t quite finished. Slightly surprised by her own boldness, she plucked a rose from one of the nearby bushes, its bloom as bright red as blood. Then, she looked Railtus directly in his eyes. Holding his gaze, Mavelle kissed the rose’s soft petals, letting her desire suggest all the places her lips would rather be.
“Take this,” she whispered, presenting Railtus with the flower. “Lay it on your pillow tonight. And dream of me.”
Railtus’s kiss sent a rush of warmth through Mavelle. It was like he’d become the sun and she’d become a flower -- budding, blooming, living her entire life in a matter of seconds. Because when the sun caresses a flower, teasing it awake, the flower has no choice. Mavelle’s breath fluttered in her lungs. If not for the strength of Railtus’s embrace, somehow holding her together, she was certain that she’d dissolve into a thousand brightly colored petals and swirl away on the wind.
Was this how it felt for the women Phelan bedded? And if so, how did it feel when he left them? Because, right then, Mavelle didn’t want Railtus to ever leave. Not ever.
Yet, even in her blissful state, Mavelle couldn’t forget that her father might show up at any minute. And he was unlikely to be impressed by the sight of some stranger cuddling his daughter. If she was the only one risking his displeasure, Mavelle might have taken that chance. But, now more than ever, she wanted to her father to like Railtus. So, with deep reluctance, she slipped from his embrace, murmuring “My father may be here soon” as an apologetic explanation.
However, Mavelle wasn’t quite finished. Slightly surprised by her own boldness, she plucked a rose from one of the nearby bushes, its bloom as bright red as blood. Then, she looked Railtus directly in his eyes. Holding his gaze, Mavelle kissed the rose’s soft petals, letting her desire suggest all the places her lips would rather be.
“Take this,” she whispered, presenting Railtus with the flower. “Lay it on your pillow tonight. And dream of me.”
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No explanation was necessary. Mavelle was feeling better, her hurt from before having seemingly vanished into the wind, that was what mattered. Railtus was disappointingly accepting of the lady parting from his arms. If she had kissed him in the moment just gone he was not sure he could resist. Blinking sharply, he tried to clear his head of the trance the lady had held him in.
Here lied another problem. Many would envy that rose right now, he thought dryly. Heartfelt passion and desire showed in that gesture, far more than a passing interest. For the first time, he failed to meet her gaze. Nevertheless, he took the rose, a wan smile on his face.
Was that...?
Oh no.
An explosion of action took place. Railtus smoothly stepping and securing the shield into place in one smooth motion. His gaze fell away from Mavelle, as if following something behind the wall. The tension in him when he grabbed the shield hinted that he expected to use it.
With what he soon saw, his tension only magnified. A fellow in a long coat of rich velvet, sporting a luxurient beard of brown streaked with blond. Crinkled lines creased his face, hinting at an age unseen in his ungreyed hair. Golden rings were worn in his beard, and numerous gemstones adorned his form.
Of this man, one more thing was on display.
The darkness in his heart.
A tight breath slowly warned of great control being shown. Beyond that, Railtus kept his composure. He was not a man to be nervous. Yet he stood in the presence of evil, bearing a face much like that displayed on the portrait earlier... that of the master of the House.
"Ah, you would be Railtus." Lord Kendall said with a friendly smile, "Glad to finally meet you at last. I trust all is well?"
"Yes, my lord." Railtus replied with great effort. "Let me say that your daughter" nodding towards Mavelle, in his usual courtesy of considering everyone in the room, "gives you much to be proud of."
Kendall brushed aside the compliment. "The Baron Antal has told me little about you, I'm afraid."
"We have not seen much of each other since I began as a page. I suspect he no longer knows me as well as he once did."
"I understand it is your wish to stay in my household." Kendall commented, neatly putting the impetous on Railtus to explain.
"It is as my father has commanded me." countered Railtus smoothly.
A steady nod and thoughtful grunt filled the gap between reactions. "Strange. I do not hear from your father in some time, and now he asks a service of me."
A sardonic smile crossed the face of Railtus. This was a mark of kinship, was it not? "Truthfully, my lord, I would look forward to earning my keep. It is my hope to make good use of my time spent with your House." Of course, there would be need to be wary of anything asked. "I understand that by making this request of you, my father admits to a bond requiring the same of him should you and your own have need." Chances are the Baron Antal would do no such thing, but Railtus still hoped. "By my understanding, my presence could do something towards aiding your business interests. One option worth considering is the possibility of me acting as envoy upon my return, to organise a trade deal of use to both branches of our family."
So, the boy is not as naive as I believed. Strange, how he conflicts with Baron Antal's mention of him. Unless...
"Do you bring documentation?" Lord Kendall demanded, politely. "You understand the need that we be sure of your identity, and the extent of your father's requests."
Nodding in agreement, Railtus pulled out a number of letters from beneath his breastplate. All sealed and unopened. The letters were handed over. Meanwhile, Kendall glanced with a mixture of bemusement and disdain for the choice of food on display. Some small part of him noted that the food was yet untouched.
Another part of the Lord noted that Railtus was glancing towards Mavelle, looking for some way to include her in the conversation. Kendall found one, that bought him time neatly, and was convenient enough. "My dear Mavelle, what do you have to say about our guest?"
Here lied another problem. Many would envy that rose right now, he thought dryly. Heartfelt passion and desire showed in that gesture, far more than a passing interest. For the first time, he failed to meet her gaze. Nevertheless, he took the rose, a wan smile on his face.
Was that...?
Oh no.
An explosion of action took place. Railtus smoothly stepping and securing the shield into place in one smooth motion. His gaze fell away from Mavelle, as if following something behind the wall. The tension in him when he grabbed the shield hinted that he expected to use it.
With what he soon saw, his tension only magnified. A fellow in a long coat of rich velvet, sporting a luxurient beard of brown streaked with blond. Crinkled lines creased his face, hinting at an age unseen in his ungreyed hair. Golden rings were worn in his beard, and numerous gemstones adorned his form.
Of this man, one more thing was on display.
The darkness in his heart.
A tight breath slowly warned of great control being shown. Beyond that, Railtus kept his composure. He was not a man to be nervous. Yet he stood in the presence of evil, bearing a face much like that displayed on the portrait earlier... that of the master of the House.
"Ah, you would be Railtus." Lord Kendall said with a friendly smile, "Glad to finally meet you at last. I trust all is well?"
"Yes, my lord." Railtus replied with great effort. "Let me say that your daughter" nodding towards Mavelle, in his usual courtesy of considering everyone in the room, "gives you much to be proud of."
Kendall brushed aside the compliment. "The Baron Antal has told me little about you, I'm afraid."
"We have not seen much of each other since I began as a page. I suspect he no longer knows me as well as he once did."
"I understand it is your wish to stay in my household." Kendall commented, neatly putting the impetous on Railtus to explain.
"It is as my father has commanded me." countered Railtus smoothly.
A steady nod and thoughtful grunt filled the gap between reactions. "Strange. I do not hear from your father in some time, and now he asks a service of me."
A sardonic smile crossed the face of Railtus. This was a mark of kinship, was it not? "Truthfully, my lord, I would look forward to earning my keep. It is my hope to make good use of my time spent with your House." Of course, there would be need to be wary of anything asked. "I understand that by making this request of you, my father admits to a bond requiring the same of him should you and your own have need." Chances are the Baron Antal would do no such thing, but Railtus still hoped. "By my understanding, my presence could do something towards aiding your business interests. One option worth considering is the possibility of me acting as envoy upon my return, to organise a trade deal of use to both branches of our family."
So, the boy is not as naive as I believed. Strange, how he conflicts with Baron Antal's mention of him. Unless...
"Do you bring documentation?" Lord Kendall demanded, politely. "You understand the need that we be sure of your identity, and the extent of your father's requests."
Nodding in agreement, Railtus pulled out a number of letters from beneath his breastplate. All sealed and unopened. The letters were handed over. Meanwhile, Kendall glanced with a mixture of bemusement and disdain for the choice of food on display. Some small part of him noted that the food was yet untouched.
Another part of the Lord noted that Railtus was glancing towards Mavelle, looking for some way to include her in the conversation. Kendall found one, that bought him time neatly, and was convenient enough. "My dear Mavelle, what do you have to say about our guest?"
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Falcon Bertille
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Mavelle smiled in response to Railtus’s praise. But she wasn’t surprised that her father seemed to take little notice of the gesture. Her ability to charm men only impressed her father when it won him something he wanted -- as of yet, he hadn’t decided what Railtus might be able to offer. While pretending to be distracted by a passing butterfly, she listened to the two men speak, hoping that Railtus might win over her father as easily as he’d won over her.
When her father suddenly decided to include his daughter in the conversation, Mavelle’s mind scrambled for an answer to his question. She knew she needed to reply quickly, or he would think her words too carefully considered, and view them with suspicion. But every compliment she wanted to pay Railtus sounded like a thinly veiled euphemism for her desire. Hastily, she discarded any comment regarding his looks, manners, or the kindness he’d shown her. “He impresses me most favorably, Father. While waiting for your arrival, we spoke about his journey here, during which he encountered several trials. Each one was overcome with courage and determination. I’m sure that, whatever task you put him to, he will serve our family well.”
During her speech, Mavelle was careful to keep her eyes fixed on her father. She wanted him to see that she was speaking the truth. Also, she worried that any glances at Railtus might be interpreted as signs that he’d coached her reply. Even when she finished speaking, Mavelle refrained from looking at Railtus, and simply sat down at the table, feigning an interest in the food set on it. She knew her father did not consider it her place to take an active part in this discussion. Being too pushy would only annoy him. But she still wanted to remain close by, to listen, in case another chance to aid Railtus arose.
When her father suddenly decided to include his daughter in the conversation, Mavelle’s mind scrambled for an answer to his question. She knew she needed to reply quickly, or he would think her words too carefully considered, and view them with suspicion. But every compliment she wanted to pay Railtus sounded like a thinly veiled euphemism for her desire. Hastily, she discarded any comment regarding his looks, manners, or the kindness he’d shown her. “He impresses me most favorably, Father. While waiting for your arrival, we spoke about his journey here, during which he encountered several trials. Each one was overcome with courage and determination. I’m sure that, whatever task you put him to, he will serve our family well.”
During her speech, Mavelle was careful to keep her eyes fixed on her father. She wanted him to see that she was speaking the truth. Also, she worried that any glances at Railtus might be interpreted as signs that he’d coached her reply. Even when she finished speaking, Mavelle refrained from looking at Railtus, and simply sat down at the table, feigning an interest in the food set on it. She knew her father did not consider it her place to take an active part in this discussion. Being too pushy would only annoy him. But she still wanted to remain close by, to listen, in case another chance to aid Railtus arose.
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Sir Karsimir
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Both men glanced swiftly towards Mavelle as she answered, both men aware of the guarded evasion. Somewhere beneath the flowing beard, Lord Kendall grimaced as such a vague assessment told him absolutely nothing. This youngster knew something, and could figure much more. Lord Kendall was not a man who enjoyed being at a disadvantage.
Each man knew the other had shared their observation, and each man knew that the other knew. A curious moment for the House Elder, what he had been expecting was a brash youth, headstrong and frivolous. Instead, he received someone who had managed to strike him as shrewd within the space of two minutes.
He had no idea which was worse.
A frivolous whippersnapper would be harmless enough. After all, simply point him towards a few meaningless vices and he would remain out the way. Instead, we have a boy who, while probably eccentric, was clearly intelligent and driven to use it. Unusually enough, the boy had openly declared himself to have ambition, although no elaboration had taken place.
Another thought was that the boy was manipulating him. Lord Kendall knew manipulation, it was a partner far closer than his wife ever was. Or his mistress, for that matter. Immediately, the boy had appealed to Kendall's good business sense. Mavelle would not have taught him that, and such a savvy move was most unlike the one told of in the baron's letters. Obviously the boy had matured without the baron's knowledge. A potential advantage...
Something must be known about the boy. Secrets could be discreetly pried from his grasp. Of course, inquiring about the boy's history would not do, since the youngster would be in total control of what information he offered. If only Mavelle could have picked up more. No, the same front would have been presented to her.
Well, perhaps the letters would provide some leverage. The first was opened, and read through. Then another. Terms, yes, but nothing of use.
Meanwhile Railtus was aiming for the food on the table. He reached with the formal care of one gaining permission in the process of doing. Good manners. What was strange was a sense of conflicting reactions in the man, while there was an assurance in his speech and motions there was also a caution there. Definitely the boy knew something. Or suspected.
Were Railtus not so keen and alert, Kendall would have probably believe him the dutiful son. Of course, Kendall admired the convenient way of using Antal's orders as a screen.
Getting straight down to business, Kendall began evaluating, "A stipend not much more than a servant's wage, plus retainers. Reasonable. We shall find retainers for you."
Do this right echoed in the head of Railtus. This was what decided if he could support the loyalty of Julen. "If I may, my lord, it would do me a more lasting benefit if I could recruit my own. At the end of my stay may come a chance to take them with me, by which point financing them would no longer be your concern."
Uncommon, but logical. "Very well." humoured the Lord. "The salaries will be for you to assign as you see fit. We have holdings from which you can draw upon the accounts. I will write a letter authorising this for you."
Relief flooded Railtus, he had not expected that to be so easy. "Thank you, my lord."
"Now, for your plans. What purpose do you mean to serve with your visit to Marn, and what purpose would you serve to my House?" Direct, perhaps, but this was the way of business dealings.
The answer was mentally rehearsed. At least the elements were. Demonstrating usefulness was the best way to gain support. Remember that the Lord is a businessman above all else. "To earn sponsorship for a knighthood." Railtus announced. A quick glimpse was cast Mavelle's way, interested in how she was reacting to this. It was a subtle flicker, one not likely to be noticed. Only Lord Kendall was among the most attentive of men. "In doing so bring goodwill to your House, while the Lady Maragrane could draw material from my accomplishments, to further the history of the House."
Merit was in the idea. At first glance, everybody wins. What Lord Kendall saw was a no-risk investment. Were he successful and mighty, the House would partake of the renown generated, while it would cost him nothing if this novice faded into obscurity. "Feudalism then? You plan to claim your own province?" Now this thought held potential. Younger sons often sought new lands because they could not inherit. If all began to go well, Kendall would have an influential hand in those new lands. A hand drawing vast quantities of wealth in his direction. Of course, military aid was always welcome.
"The Knights of Ydren's Spear." explained Railtus, indicating that his plans leaned in other directions. "A religious order. One with quite a name among the people. The order is popular, if not particularly large." So much more ached to be said, to speak of the honour and fairness that would be upheld, the rightness of the cause and the good that would be done. Now was not the time, such words would fall on deaf ears. Perhaps, once his ambition had the support of the House, then would be more fitting. Better yet would be to show through example. Witnessing the merit of upholding virtue would do far more than any amount of preaching ever could.
As far as Kendall was concerned, knighthood felt a poor substitute for good business, but this was apparently the way for Kendall’s backward cousins. Power rested with the mighty outside the cities, in the absence of the City Guard to maintain order. Very well, let the warrior have his uses.
One faint mention stood out, Kendall's first glimpse of the naivete he had thought of. On the other hand, this lad seemed to know what he was doing. Enough so for Kendall to be wary. "Why a religious order?"
Dancing around the issue was hardly an option. Railtus took a deep breath to steady himself, aware that this would not meet with Lord Kendall's approval. "Meaningful service." Railtus began. "The chance for my skills to count for something. I would like to spend my life on a cause that I believe in."
"Do you not believe in serving your House?" Kendall pressed, scenting weakness like blood in the water. Now would be his chance to expose the boy's naivete for what it was.
Already, Railtus knew the game. As a guest, he had only so much freedom to defend his views without giving offence. The view presented to him was very convenient for the head of a noble House. "I believe in loyalty." he answered gravely. "And I would not abandon my House and kin in need."
Same was with anyone else, although that part was left unsaid. Nevertheless, the question was answered truthfully. Few realised that always speaking the truth still left more than one option. A subtlety lost on those who force themselves to hide behind a lie.
Each man knew the other had shared their observation, and each man knew that the other knew. A curious moment for the House Elder, what he had been expecting was a brash youth, headstrong and frivolous. Instead, he received someone who had managed to strike him as shrewd within the space of two minutes.
He had no idea which was worse.
A frivolous whippersnapper would be harmless enough. After all, simply point him towards a few meaningless vices and he would remain out the way. Instead, we have a boy who, while probably eccentric, was clearly intelligent and driven to use it. Unusually enough, the boy had openly declared himself to have ambition, although no elaboration had taken place.
Another thought was that the boy was manipulating him. Lord Kendall knew manipulation, it was a partner far closer than his wife ever was. Or his mistress, for that matter. Immediately, the boy had appealed to Kendall's good business sense. Mavelle would not have taught him that, and such a savvy move was most unlike the one told of in the baron's letters. Obviously the boy had matured without the baron's knowledge. A potential advantage...
Something must be known about the boy. Secrets could be discreetly pried from his grasp. Of course, inquiring about the boy's history would not do, since the youngster would be in total control of what information he offered. If only Mavelle could have picked up more. No, the same front would have been presented to her.
Well, perhaps the letters would provide some leverage. The first was opened, and read through. Then another. Terms, yes, but nothing of use.
Meanwhile Railtus was aiming for the food on the table. He reached with the formal care of one gaining permission in the process of doing. Good manners. What was strange was a sense of conflicting reactions in the man, while there was an assurance in his speech and motions there was also a caution there. Definitely the boy knew something. Or suspected.
Were Railtus not so keen and alert, Kendall would have probably believe him the dutiful son. Of course, Kendall admired the convenient way of using Antal's orders as a screen.
Getting straight down to business, Kendall began evaluating, "A stipend not much more than a servant's wage, plus retainers. Reasonable. We shall find retainers for you."
Do this right echoed in the head of Railtus. This was what decided if he could support the loyalty of Julen. "If I may, my lord, it would do me a more lasting benefit if I could recruit my own. At the end of my stay may come a chance to take them with me, by which point financing them would no longer be your concern."
Uncommon, but logical. "Very well." humoured the Lord. "The salaries will be for you to assign as you see fit. We have holdings from which you can draw upon the accounts. I will write a letter authorising this for you."
Relief flooded Railtus, he had not expected that to be so easy. "Thank you, my lord."
"Now, for your plans. What purpose do you mean to serve with your visit to Marn, and what purpose would you serve to my House?" Direct, perhaps, but this was the way of business dealings.
The answer was mentally rehearsed. At least the elements were. Demonstrating usefulness was the best way to gain support. Remember that the Lord is a businessman above all else. "To earn sponsorship for a knighthood." Railtus announced. A quick glimpse was cast Mavelle's way, interested in how she was reacting to this. It was a subtle flicker, one not likely to be noticed. Only Lord Kendall was among the most attentive of men. "In doing so bring goodwill to your House, while the Lady Maragrane could draw material from my accomplishments, to further the history of the House."
Merit was in the idea. At first glance, everybody wins. What Lord Kendall saw was a no-risk investment. Were he successful and mighty, the House would partake of the renown generated, while it would cost him nothing if this novice faded into obscurity. "Feudalism then? You plan to claim your own province?" Now this thought held potential. Younger sons often sought new lands because they could not inherit. If all began to go well, Kendall would have an influential hand in those new lands. A hand drawing vast quantities of wealth in his direction. Of course, military aid was always welcome.
"The Knights of Ydren's Spear." explained Railtus, indicating that his plans leaned in other directions. "A religious order. One with quite a name among the people. The order is popular, if not particularly large." So much more ached to be said, to speak of the honour and fairness that would be upheld, the rightness of the cause and the good that would be done. Now was not the time, such words would fall on deaf ears. Perhaps, once his ambition had the support of the House, then would be more fitting. Better yet would be to show through example. Witnessing the merit of upholding virtue would do far more than any amount of preaching ever could.
As far as Kendall was concerned, knighthood felt a poor substitute for good business, but this was apparently the way for Kendall’s backward cousins. Power rested with the mighty outside the cities, in the absence of the City Guard to maintain order. Very well, let the warrior have his uses.
One faint mention stood out, Kendall's first glimpse of the naivete he had thought of. On the other hand, this lad seemed to know what he was doing. Enough so for Kendall to be wary. "Why a religious order?"
Dancing around the issue was hardly an option. Railtus took a deep breath to steady himself, aware that this would not meet with Lord Kendall's approval. "Meaningful service." Railtus began. "The chance for my skills to count for something. I would like to spend my life on a cause that I believe in."
"Do you not believe in serving your House?" Kendall pressed, scenting weakness like blood in the water. Now would be his chance to expose the boy's naivete for what it was.
Already, Railtus knew the game. As a guest, he had only so much freedom to defend his views without giving offence. The view presented to him was very convenient for the head of a noble House. "I believe in loyalty." he answered gravely. "And I would not abandon my House and kin in need."
Same was with anyone else, although that part was left unsaid. Nevertheless, the question was answered truthfully. Few realised that always speaking the truth still left more than one option. A subtlety lost on those who force themselves to hide behind a lie.
Last edited by Sir Karsimir on Sat Feb 24, 2007 11:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
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Falcon Bertille
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Continuing her charade, Mavelle nibbled at an almond, although she barely tasted it. Her mind was far away from subjects as mundane as lunch. Instead, she listened to the two men talk, trying to pick up on the implications hidden within each word. At first, it was hard to tell if things were going well for Railtus. Mavelle always had difficulty reading her father -- she knew he was a good parent because he provided for her, not because he displayed any particular warmth or openness in her presence. And Railtus, she noted, was exhibiting a degree of caution that he hadn’t shown when speaking to just her. But that was only natural. He was probably intimidated by her father. Most people were.
When Railtus showed an interest in the food, Mavelle couldn’t resist helping him. Cutting a slice of the goat cheese, she placed it on one of the crackers, and slid it across the table to within easy reach of his fingers. Then, she cut another slice, this time pairing it with some ham before putting it on the cracker. And so on, combining the ingredients available into an impressive variety of bite-sized treats, always making sure that one was ready for him. Mavelle knew that such behavior would not go unnoticed by her father. But she hoped he would attribute it to her desire to be a good hostess. And even if he didn’t, as long as she was the only one doing any flirting, her father would have no reason to hold it against Railtus.
While preparing her tidbits, Mavelle was careful to keep looking at the food. But Railtus’s announcement that he wished to become a knight caused her head to jerk up before she could stop herself. Eyes shining, she beamed at him, her mind once again flooding with romantic fantasies. Then, aware that she’d been caught off-guard, Mavelle hastily dropped her gaze. Even with her eyes lowered, she could still look at the rose Railtus held in one hand, the rose she’d given him, and her heart swelled with pride to think that her knight-to-be was already carrying a token from her. Perhaps it would sustain him while he fought for all the causes he’d recently spoken about to her with such passion. Now, her wish to help Railtus prove himself drove her to toss caution aside.
“Father?” Mavelle ventured, when the conversation seemed to reach a lull. “On his journey here, Railtus was attacked by bandits. When we spoke, he voiced a desire to return and destroy them, so that they couldn’t harm anyone else. I thought that perhaps Phelan could go with him. For two such fine warriors, it would surely be an easy thing to accomplish.”
When Railtus showed an interest in the food, Mavelle couldn’t resist helping him. Cutting a slice of the goat cheese, she placed it on one of the crackers, and slid it across the table to within easy reach of his fingers. Then, she cut another slice, this time pairing it with some ham before putting it on the cracker. And so on, combining the ingredients available into an impressive variety of bite-sized treats, always making sure that one was ready for him. Mavelle knew that such behavior would not go unnoticed by her father. But she hoped he would attribute it to her desire to be a good hostess. And even if he didn’t, as long as she was the only one doing any flirting, her father would have no reason to hold it against Railtus.
While preparing her tidbits, Mavelle was careful to keep looking at the food. But Railtus’s announcement that he wished to become a knight caused her head to jerk up before she could stop herself. Eyes shining, she beamed at him, her mind once again flooding with romantic fantasies. Then, aware that she’d been caught off-guard, Mavelle hastily dropped her gaze. Even with her eyes lowered, she could still look at the rose Railtus held in one hand, the rose she’d given him, and her heart swelled with pride to think that her knight-to-be was already carrying a token from her. Perhaps it would sustain him while he fought for all the causes he’d recently spoken about to her with such passion. Now, her wish to help Railtus prove himself drove her to toss caution aside.
“Father?” Mavelle ventured, when the conversation seemed to reach a lull. “On his journey here, Railtus was attacked by bandits. When we spoke, he voiced a desire to return and destroy them, so that they couldn’t harm anyone else. I thought that perhaps Phelan could go with him. For two such fine warriors, it would surely be an easy thing to accomplish.”
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Sir Karsimir
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Rose handled with the respect and care it deserved, Railtus tucked the stem within the laces of his vambrace, head peeping over at the crook of his elbow. Teeth grit tightly. He had failed to consider the thorns.
Equally, he had set down his shield. Eating becoming far easier without an enormous face of wood attached to the arm. Mavelle's attentions drew a look of incredulous disbelief. Having someone cut up his food for him felt, at the very least, weird. The gesture was sweet, if only because the intent behind it was clear.
Railtus was not the only one to observe this, as a dry chuckle uttered from the Lord of the House. So he found it amusing? Well, that was fine because so did Railtus. More seriously, the only reason he did not tell Mavelle to stop was concern about embarassing her. It would avoid problems if her father did not believe she had mistepped.
Silently, Railtus made a prayer to Ydren for the gift of an hour without someone bringing up the damn bandits. His hand closed tightly around the pendant on his neck. Through his hand, he felt the presence of the pendant. Through the pendant, he felt the grasp of his hand. An interesting sensation, one which may bode well.
Hearing the nonsense spewing forth from Mavelle's mouth showed clearly where Antal got his opinions from. Silly notions such as this would avail the boy nothing. Phelan would be unlikely to involve himself in such a foolish errand. The socialite had sense.
Courtesy had it's dictates, which Lord Kendall followed when they did not inconvenience him. Directing his reply at Railtus, Kendall suggested, "You are welcome to approach Phelan on the subject. Of course, considering Phelan's reputation, sharing such an endevour would bring you little glory." Railtus nodded in reply. In truth, glory was secondary, not that the distinction was worth arguing.
No need to defend himself. No outburst of pride. Some control must have been shown here. That or we had a cautious boy, unwilling to commit himself to decisions early. A useful quality, in the right circumstances.
Continuing with the interview, Kendall recalled an earlier point to pick up on. "You mentioned wishing to join a religious order, a priesthood. This would mean chastity and forsaking war." Once more, this was for Railtus to justify. Business seldom involved dealing with knighthoods and faith, so Kendall had no concept of templars. The question also had the effect of testing a theory. After all, priesthood meant celebacy, something which Kendall was sure to mention. It would be worth seeing how Mavelle would react to that thought.
"Ydren accepts soldiers. In fact, knights make up most of his clergy. The teachings are very fitting for a warrior life." No mention was made of chastity, one way or the other. No mention was made of the belief that one became a warrior because they were not brave enough to be a farmer. That one took some explaining.
Power, as the older man knew it, rested in merchandise in the cities, but in less controlled lands belonged to the military and the clergy. Somehow this Railtus could achieve both. There was potential in this. Potential to exploit.
"By what I have read, the terms of your stay are acceptable." Kendall announced. "As for your dreams towards knighthood, you will need to speak to whoever most appropriate about specific ventures. Always bear the good name of our House first in your mind." These ambitions had their uses. For now it appeared that following that dream would keep the boy out from underfoot. Antal had wanted something from Kendall, and Kendall would let the boy do the work for him.
Equally, he had set down his shield. Eating becoming far easier without an enormous face of wood attached to the arm. Mavelle's attentions drew a look of incredulous disbelief. Having someone cut up his food for him felt, at the very least, weird. The gesture was sweet, if only because the intent behind it was clear.
Railtus was not the only one to observe this, as a dry chuckle uttered from the Lord of the House. So he found it amusing? Well, that was fine because so did Railtus. More seriously, the only reason he did not tell Mavelle to stop was concern about embarassing her. It would avoid problems if her father did not believe she had mistepped.
Silently, Railtus made a prayer to Ydren for the gift of an hour without someone bringing up the damn bandits. His hand closed tightly around the pendant on his neck. Through his hand, he felt the presence of the pendant. Through the pendant, he felt the grasp of his hand. An interesting sensation, one which may bode well.
Hearing the nonsense spewing forth from Mavelle's mouth showed clearly where Antal got his opinions from. Silly notions such as this would avail the boy nothing. Phelan would be unlikely to involve himself in such a foolish errand. The socialite had sense.
Courtesy had it's dictates, which Lord Kendall followed when they did not inconvenience him. Directing his reply at Railtus, Kendall suggested, "You are welcome to approach Phelan on the subject. Of course, considering Phelan's reputation, sharing such an endevour would bring you little glory." Railtus nodded in reply. In truth, glory was secondary, not that the distinction was worth arguing.
No need to defend himself. No outburst of pride. Some control must have been shown here. That or we had a cautious boy, unwilling to commit himself to decisions early. A useful quality, in the right circumstances.
Continuing with the interview, Kendall recalled an earlier point to pick up on. "You mentioned wishing to join a religious order, a priesthood. This would mean chastity and forsaking war." Once more, this was for Railtus to justify. Business seldom involved dealing with knighthoods and faith, so Kendall had no concept of templars. The question also had the effect of testing a theory. After all, priesthood meant celebacy, something which Kendall was sure to mention. It would be worth seeing how Mavelle would react to that thought.
"Ydren accepts soldiers. In fact, knights make up most of his clergy. The teachings are very fitting for a warrior life." No mention was made of chastity, one way or the other. No mention was made of the belief that one became a warrior because they were not brave enough to be a farmer. That one took some explaining.
Power, as the older man knew it, rested in merchandise in the cities, but in less controlled lands belonged to the military and the clergy. Somehow this Railtus could achieve both. There was potential in this. Potential to exploit.
"By what I have read, the terms of your stay are acceptable." Kendall announced. "As for your dreams towards knighthood, you will need to speak to whoever most appropriate about specific ventures. Always bear the good name of our House first in your mind." These ambitions had their uses. For now it appeared that following that dream would keep the boy out from underfoot. Antal had wanted something from Kendall, and Kendall would let the boy do the work for him.
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
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Falcon Bertille
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Mavelle felt mildly disappointed that Railtus hadn’t leaped on her bandit suggestion with more flair -- at least a few grand words about how he would feel unworthy to look on her beauty until he rid the world of their evil. But she let it go. After all, her father wasn’t exactly pushing the mission, and her father usually knew best. Both men must have other urgent matters in mind. Mavelle took consolation in the thought that, if Railtus wasn’t off chasing bandits, he’d be considerably more available to spend time with her.
She did, however, notice when Railtus gripped the pendant around his neck. What was it? Mavelle remembered that Railtus had remained silent when she’d asked him about the women in his father’s realm. Perhaps it was a gift from one of them? The possibility of having a rival for Railtus’s affections didn’t particularly worry Mavelle. That was the sort of contest she was accustomed to winning. But still, it intrigued her, and she resolved to pursue the matter when a chance arose.
As the conversation progressed, Mavelle continued to listen. Her father’s mention of celibacy didn’t perturb her. She wasn’t planning on marrying Railtus; she wasn’t even consciously intending to bed him. She just liked the things he said to her, the giddy rush she experienced whenever he smiled in her direction, the safety she felt when he held her in his arms. The romantic fantasies of her mind and the more carnal desires of her body were so knotted up inside her that she would have been hard pressed to untangle one from the other, even if she possessed the maturity to fully distinguish between the two. As far as Mavelle was concerned, any vows Railtus might have made in the name of chastity would only serve to sweeten each touch that they could enjoy.
“I think we’re finished here,” Lord Kendall concluded. “Mavelle, show our guest to his rooms. The ones in the south wing should do nicely.” It was no coincidence that the south wing was located a good distance from Mavelle’s own chambers. If the girl wanted to flirt, let her do so -- it might even help manipulate the boy at some later date. But there was no profit in allowing the relationship to progress to unseemly levels.
She did, however, notice when Railtus gripped the pendant around his neck. What was it? Mavelle remembered that Railtus had remained silent when she’d asked him about the women in his father’s realm. Perhaps it was a gift from one of them? The possibility of having a rival for Railtus’s affections didn’t particularly worry Mavelle. That was the sort of contest she was accustomed to winning. But still, it intrigued her, and she resolved to pursue the matter when a chance arose.
As the conversation progressed, Mavelle continued to listen. Her father’s mention of celibacy didn’t perturb her. She wasn’t planning on marrying Railtus; she wasn’t even consciously intending to bed him. She just liked the things he said to her, the giddy rush she experienced whenever he smiled in her direction, the safety she felt when he held her in his arms. The romantic fantasies of her mind and the more carnal desires of her body were so knotted up inside her that she would have been hard pressed to untangle one from the other, even if she possessed the maturity to fully distinguish between the two. As far as Mavelle was concerned, any vows Railtus might have made in the name of chastity would only serve to sweeten each touch that they could enjoy.
“I think we’re finished here,” Lord Kendall concluded. “Mavelle, show our guest to his rooms. The ones in the south wing should do nicely.” It was no coincidence that the south wing was located a good distance from Mavelle’s own chambers. If the girl wanted to flirt, let her do so -- it might even help manipulate the boy at some later date. But there was no profit in allowing the relationship to progress to unseemly levels.
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Sir Karsimir
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Eyes fixed upon the rose worn on Railtus' sleeve. It was fairly obvious where he got the rose from, and he did not seem the type to adorn himself with foliage. His style was earthy but that would be too far.
Both men stood. Railtus bowed, a little stiffly, and shook Kendall's hand in greeting before retrieving his shield. "Thank you, my lord." With that, he waited patiently for Mavelle to lead him from the rose-garden.
Once away, Railtus let out a long breath of tension. Again, Railtus grasped tight hold of the pendant, focusing on the more certain ground of his faith and his cause. Yet that faith was what concerned him. Meeting Lord Kendall he sensed the presence of taint, a subtle darkness lurking in his heart. It felt unbalancing to encounter evil as anything other than the enemy.
Scratch off that idea for a knightly sponsor. Ydren would be outraged.
More chilling, was the pleasant face brought to the encounter. Kendall had been friendly, pleasant, and according to Mavelle was a good father. How was that possible? Of course the merchant-lord had ulterior motives but the sacred sense was puzzling in this case.
Perhaps he was simply ruthless and greedy. There were signs of that. Treacherous too. Such qualities did not befit the hospitality being granted, or the high opinion of Mavelle. One lesson Railtus would have to learn as an Angelsworn would be to understand the workings of evil. That way he could better fight it.
"And your thoughts, my lady?" Railtus asked, resisting the selfish folly of dwelling on his own dilemma.
Both men stood. Railtus bowed, a little stiffly, and shook Kendall's hand in greeting before retrieving his shield. "Thank you, my lord." With that, he waited patiently for Mavelle to lead him from the rose-garden.
Once away, Railtus let out a long breath of tension. Again, Railtus grasped tight hold of the pendant, focusing on the more certain ground of his faith and his cause. Yet that faith was what concerned him. Meeting Lord Kendall he sensed the presence of taint, a subtle darkness lurking in his heart. It felt unbalancing to encounter evil as anything other than the enemy.
Scratch off that idea for a knightly sponsor. Ydren would be outraged.
More chilling, was the pleasant face brought to the encounter. Kendall had been friendly, pleasant, and according to Mavelle was a good father. How was that possible? Of course the merchant-lord had ulterior motives but the sacred sense was puzzling in this case.
Perhaps he was simply ruthless and greedy. There were signs of that. Treacherous too. Such qualities did not befit the hospitality being granted, or the high opinion of Mavelle. One lesson Railtus would have to learn as an Angelsworn would be to understand the workings of evil. That way he could better fight it.
"And your thoughts, my lady?" Railtus asked, resisting the selfish folly of dwelling on his own dilemma.
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
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Falcon Bertille
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As she led him from the rose garden, Mavelle observed that Railtus seemed to be troubled by something, so she didn’t intrude on his contemplation. But his pensiveness did surprise her a little. To her ears and eyes, everything had gone very well with her father. After all, Railtus had been granted everything he asked for, hadn’t he? She expected him to be more pleased by the outcome.
And yet, perhaps Railtus’s brooding didn’t have anything to do with the talk he’d just concluded. Mavelle couldn’t help noticing that his hand had once again closed around the pendant he’d been clasping earlier. Now, more than ever, she itched to ask him what it was, where he’d gotten it. But if it really was a keepsake given to him by another woman, then such inquiries would come across like petty jealousy. Mavelle was not willing to admit that she could even feel such an emotion. So, despite her curiosity, she remained silent as they left the warmth of the garden behind, entering the long, cool hallways of her home.
However, when Railtus inquired after her thoughts, silence was no longer an option. For a moment, Mavelle hesitated. She didn’t want to speak about a triviality when there might be more important matters at hand. But she also wanted to be honest with him. She’d begun to realize that things usually went better with Railtus when she spoke the truth, even when the truth wasn’t as flattering as she might like it to be. So honesty finally won out.
“My thoughts are divided,” Mavelle confessed. “Somehow, you manage to turn me into two people. The better of them, the one you inspire me to try to be more like, is worried because you seem to be distressed by something. If it’s anything I might be able to help with, I’d like to know.”
Pausing, Mavelle offered Railtus a self-deprecating smile. “And the lesser of them, the one you make me wish that I wasn’t, is wondering what beautiful lady might have given you that pendant you’re wearing.”
And yet, perhaps Railtus’s brooding didn’t have anything to do with the talk he’d just concluded. Mavelle couldn’t help noticing that his hand had once again closed around the pendant he’d been clasping earlier. Now, more than ever, she itched to ask him what it was, where he’d gotten it. But if it really was a keepsake given to him by another woman, then such inquiries would come across like petty jealousy. Mavelle was not willing to admit that she could even feel such an emotion. So, despite her curiosity, she remained silent as they left the warmth of the garden behind, entering the long, cool hallways of her home.
However, when Railtus inquired after her thoughts, silence was no longer an option. For a moment, Mavelle hesitated. She didn’t want to speak about a triviality when there might be more important matters at hand. But she also wanted to be honest with him. She’d begun to realize that things usually went better with Railtus when she spoke the truth, even when the truth wasn’t as flattering as she might like it to be. So honesty finally won out.
“My thoughts are divided,” Mavelle confessed. “Somehow, you manage to turn me into two people. The better of them, the one you inspire me to try to be more like, is worried because you seem to be distressed by something. If it’s anything I might be able to help with, I’d like to know.”
Pausing, Mavelle offered Railtus a self-deprecating smile. “And the lesser of them, the one you make me wish that I wasn’t, is wondering what beautiful lady might have given you that pendant you’re wearing.”