Difference between revisions of "De Haguns Family/Return of the Lioness"

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(Created page with "==Storme== The court had gathered waiting to hear updates regarding work in the city, a report read by her retainer but Aila herself has put the event at a total standstill....")
 
 
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And I think Oliver with his army may be the key.”
 
And I think Oliver with his army may be the key.”
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==Laststar==
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"You cannot resist talking about me even when I'm absent from the room Your Grace? I'm flattered." Oliver strolls confidently, wearing a smile as well as his new well-cut marshal's uniform he had designed. Its brass buttons lined the dark blue jacket in neat, polished rows; and a passionate pink sash of his Valiants was draped over his shoulder.
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His smile shines wider, as soon as Oliver spots Aila hovering over her desk, there was an unspoken mischievous to his look. The duke's presence was a minor annoyance, but Oliver offers a dip of a courteous bow. Trilling a greeting unperturbed, "My liege."
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"I hope you do not mind the intrusion, I had to come congratulate our duchess on her release from Perleone's dungeons the moment I heard she had made it back to the city." His smiling eyes shift to Aila again. "I'd have been here sooner if I hadn't been accosted in the streets. Our new knights aren't as respectful as we would like to believe."
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==MacArbin==
 
==MacArbin==
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Aila commands the attention of the shaken ‘squire’ “ I do agree with the Earl that you will not re returning to the mines, it is far too dangerous. Tell me your family name? It is only proper to notify your noble Father as to where you confinement will be.”
 
Aila commands the attention of the shaken ‘squire’ “ I do agree with the Earl that you will not re returning to the mines, it is far too dangerous. Tell me your family name? It is only proper to notify your noble Father as to where you confinement will be.”
  
==Orpheu==
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==De Haguns==
  
 
Orpheu glared in disbelief at Oliver’s suggestion. The gall of the man, to think he could have his Thea! Now he fully understood the implications of that reference he had made about a fiancée or woman as the reason for their feud, and could see the full depravity of the man. How could such a man call himself a knight and lord of the realm? How could someone like him hold title and power, if only to abuse of those powerless, such as a pregnant woman? The Knight was thoroughly horrified with the very idea that she could fall into his devious claws.
 
Orpheu glared in disbelief at Oliver’s suggestion. The gall of the man, to think he could have his Thea! Now he fully understood the implications of that reference he had made about a fiancée or woman as the reason for their feud, and could see the full depravity of the man. How could such a man call himself a knight and lord of the realm? How could someone like him hold title and power, if only to abuse of those powerless, such as a pregnant woman? The Knight was thoroughly horrified with the very idea that she could fall into his devious claws.

Latest revision as of 04:06, 15 May 2021

Storme

The court had gathered waiting to hear updates regarding work in the city, a report read by her retainer but Aila herself has put the event at a total standstill. Silence falls on the courtroom upon the arrival of the Duchess, captured after the last battle and held in a prison ever since. The overwhelming feeling of superiority that made everyone in the palace avert their gaze has been replaced with a steely glare that seemed to suck the air out of the room. Instead of the flashy Perdanese gowns she usually sports, a low quality Perleone dress is in place instead. The elaborate hairstyles and silky braids she preferred were gone, her hair hung loose and dull from days without proper cleaning, oiling, combing and brushing.

By the time she has made it to the front of the room Gideon has appeared, papers in hand skidding across the floor in his haste as he stops inside the door. He looks horrified to see her dressed in style he knew she considered old fashioned, her lovely mane in tatters, but in all she is in tact and unharmed. Without a care for the hundreds of eyes watching them so closely he crosses the room to her in haste, everyone else watching in utter shock as he approaches the Duchess without fear.

A gasp emerges in the room as he pulls her into an embrace and plants several kisses on her cheeks “ MWAH, MWAH, MWAH You’re home! MWAH! What did they do to my sweet Aila? MWAH! Come along, will will have a bath poured.”

Aila flinches at every kiss, pushing Gideon away with half-hearted effort as he wraps her in his arms and begins leading her away. “No! I have court to hold!”

“Looking like this?”

Aila’s eyes, steely at first have come alight with purpose “Oh yes. Let it be known today. . Nothing they do will ever slow me down again."

MacArbin

Kenneth removed the back of the lionshead seal on his Ambassadorial chain, before twisting the heavy gold links and leaning forward to press it to the hot wax. He withdrew it and replaced the back, waving for the attendant to see to its delivery as he stared contemplatively over the water. What were they waiting for...?

He rose smoothly as the ferry began pulling into the dock, moving easily with the movement of the vessel even through the rather jarring stop. He'd earned his sea legs honestly, and a river, even as rough as it was in these new banks that had once been seashore, were little trouble.

The Duke nodded absently to a retainer who had brought out and readied his horse for him, and mounted, heading for the palace. He heard some commotion in the distance, but nothing that drew his attention away from his own thoughts. He arrived into the court just in time to hear the tail end of Aila's arrival:

He grinned, knowing Perleone would live to regret that soon enough, and recalculated his approach. He drew his sword, which while jewel-adorned was still perfectly functional, and called out in his well-trained voice.

"And the Riverlands stands ready at your side!"

He knelt, hilt of his blade offered to her as if a liegeman, though his smile was rather more than appropriate for a vassal.

"You have my sword, my lady."

Storme

The throne room is filled with sounds of wonder at the arrival of the Duke of the Riverlands. On his own he was a sight to behold dressed in his finery and carrying such impressive weapons. When his voice rings out among the court, to Aila’s ears it is thunder coated in honey- his words sincere and his heart hers. As he kneels the ladies of the court swoon and the men let out roars of approval, joining in their pledges of loyalty in a racket of booming voices.

Aila herself is well practiced, more used to being the center of a crowds attention than even she would admit- there is nothing nervous about her as she accepts the Duke’s pledge, and orders him to “Rise” in order to have him stand beside her in front of the captive audience of the court.

With Kenneth at her side, Aila silences the room with the smallest of hand gestures- as as the last whisper fades only then does she speak. “With the assurance of your loyalties I end this court” the crowd of minor nobles look as if they feel as important as the high Lords themselves, listening with chests puffed out and eyes determined. “And I end it knowing that when I call for you, your banners, your militiamen, you will call. Thanks to the contribution of many despite the enormous cost, the archery recruitment center will become the largest the city has known. Such is my commitment. Such is our determination.”

Well trained in the etiquette Aila demands, the crowd of minor nobles only begin their applause after she has averted her eyes, and began to exit the throne room with Kenneth. It is outside that the porcelain mask that is her overwhelming air of superiority is replaced with a great relief, not just because he had supported her so well but because... “I have missed you dearly.”

MacArbin

Kenneth's face was appropriately dignified, but inside he was quite pleased at the reaction the little set-piece had garnered, and knew that he could use that later to help persuade more than a few to not just agree, but volunteer to pay the new taxes instituted to take advantage of the investment. For a little while, at least.

But after they left, he wrapped an arm around Aila, a look of mixed pride and concern on his face.

"I missed you, too. You played your role perfectly in there, but truthfully, my love, what do you need? I was not expecting to see you in such a state."

With an effort, he resisted putting his own mask back on. Authenticity...And she already knew how his heart twisted with every battle, in any case.

"If you wish to go to work immediately, then I can aid you. And if you wish to just recover, I can stand in your stead. A few words in the right ears and I can enthrall your people to your designs easily enough."

He attempted a rakish grin, though the worry in his eyes undercut the effort.

"Or, if you wish to forget about it all for a while..."

Storme

“Such a state” she echoes, her voice laced in outrage even as she pats the hand clutching her shoulder to comfort her. She looked nothing like herself she knew, the old dress and dingy hair but she still would not admit to anyone that she thought it diminished her at all. Instead she wore it with confidence, declaring to Kenneth and anyone else in earshot as they made their way down the stone halls of the palace “There is nothing to recover from and no time to forget.”

She had been locked up for days, taunted by a judge, left without any comforts or company that she was so accustomed to and at the moment was all business. Kenneth knew the palace well enough to know what she was leading him to, and for the first time in a long time she let him into the room still referred to as the Pirate King’s study- because that was what Aila insisted it be named. It had been years since a Pirate stepped foot in there, the rows of bottled ships long gone, the stacks of books filled with bloody and fantastical seafaring tales moved far away in favor of her own books, ones of far more poetic and philosophical content then the old King had enjoyed. Tapestries of ships and battles had gone and been replaced with scenes of nature and animals. The old furniture remained stout and sturdy as ever, dwarfing the girl who owned it now and looming as one of the few things left unchanged from long ago. This was her domain now, she moved through it as easily as if it was her own sitting room and barely cast Kenneth a second glance on the way there. As they went forth she explained “We had a chance at fighting a fair fight but their King brought two armies instead, I will be sure that from now on we take advantage of everything that arises, everything.”

She sounds agitated, when they finally get to her desk she stoops down and begins pulling stacks of paper from a deep drawer. “These problems with Oliver, these problems with our tactics- what is it he used to say-”

Rustling of papers fills the room as she splits the stack and pulls out something Kenneth will recognize quickly as the start of a contract “Pulling punches…” Aila has found what she’s looking for and sits in the massive chair at her desk “Sometimes what is good for the Queens morals is not always good for the realm. She is not capable of seeing that so we must do it for her. We must do what needs to be done.

And I think Oliver with his army may be the key.”

Laststar

"You cannot resist talking about me even when I'm absent from the room Your Grace? I'm flattered." Oliver strolls confidently, wearing a smile as well as his new well-cut marshal's uniform he had designed. Its brass buttons lined the dark blue jacket in neat, polished rows; and a passionate pink sash of his Valiants was draped over his shoulder.

His smile shines wider, as soon as Oliver spots Aila hovering over her desk, there was an unspoken mischievous to his look. The duke's presence was a minor annoyance, but Oliver offers a dip of a courteous bow. Trilling a greeting unperturbed, "My liege."

"I hope you do not mind the intrusion, I had to come congratulate our duchess on her release from Perleone's dungeons the moment I heard she had made it back to the city." His smiling eyes shift to Aila again. "I'd have been here sooner if I hadn't been accosted in the streets. Our new knights aren't as respectful as we would like to believe."


MacArbin

Kenneth had followed Aila without demur, as was of course his duty, though his concern had not left. What had the Perleoni done to invite this wrath?

He shrugged silently as she stalked through the halls. Well, whatever it was, they would regret it soon enough...

He nodded agreement about morals, though an eyebrow rose in curiosity at how this would all tie together with Oliver.

And then, his mask slid smoothly onto his face as he turned, returning his vassal's bow with a nod and lightly sketched bow in return. His smile was bright and approving.

"Ah, Earl Oliver, an excellent instinct! I suppose we can learn together the Duchess' plans for you."

He settled into what had once been his accustomed seat, eyes distant for a moment as he lightly stroked the leather, before they sharpened and looked toward his betrothed curiously.

Storme

Dressed magnificently as always, she for once was the least impressive looking person in the room and shielded herself from it by putting the contract back on the desk before crossing her arms defiantly. Aila had warned the guards over and over not to brother the Earl of Nascot in her palace but this was the first time it had come back to bother her this badly, walking in amid a private conversation with Kenneth- It could have been a lot worse.

“At least knock Oliver; I was talking about you because as usual you’re being a bother now what is this about an attack? In my city?” her voice rises to a shout as she barks the words “Guards!” And a few hustle in ready to tackle the Earl at her command, but stop their advance at the motion of her hand.

“A new knight?” She mumbles the words, trying to remember the odd name that had come across her desk not too long ago and coming up with nothing. Instead she remembers his heraldry “Find the knight with a Dragon passant, white on red and gold.” she meets eyes with Oliver, and with his approval at the description of the sigil nods at her guards. They look affronted, asked to hunt down a knight of her own Duchy for the Earl of another “Bring him to the palace. A court if he is civil, the dungeon if he is -not-.” A flick of her hand sends the guards away despite misgivings and she turns to cast a glance at Kenneth with the slightest of smiles present on her way around the massive desk.

Now alone with Kenneth and Oliver she hides the things on her desk back in her drawer “There are better ways for you to be using that army, ways that help more and attract the attention of the Queen less. I want you to make me a Marshal and in turn I will fund the War Chest when possible. ” she informs curtly.

De Haguns

“We must see a seeress, I want to know what the future holds for this child, Orpheu.”

“Do you still cling to these folk beliefs, my love? My blood will run through his veins, the child is fated to greatness, he was conceived in Spring. It is hope!”

“Orpheu, this is not the matter… I fear he will be born during winter. You know there are bad omens about this… it’s the crone’s season, after all.”

“Thea, you cannot believe this? These are just…”, he hesitated, “commoner beliefs. I do not mean this as offense. Ever since our faith in the winds started dwindling, some heresies have started spreading, long ago. We shall go to the Temple in Bescanon, instead. I hear it is one of the few, if not the last in the South, and have you blessed in the traditional ways there. But not a seeress.”

“Commoner beliefs, you say?”, she laughed, shaking her head. How little did the Knight know. “Don’t you see? The child may have been conceived in Spring, but shall be born in Winter. As much as it means hope, it means despair, as much as it means life, it means death. This is confusing, and I hope a seeress can help us understand what…”

Orpheu’s and Thea’s lovely peace and reencounter was short lived. What was supposed to be a romantic afternoon shortly after she revealed her pregnancy to Orpheu soon developed into a small argument. They had different views on their own faith, something that was becoming the rule as the number of faithful dwindled. As the structure and organization of the Triumvirate dissolved in the South, heresies sprung, the smallfolk converted to the wrong ways of Trinitism, or even to the Pride of Leandra, or even more recently, those who worshipped the Flames, an esoteric and new religion that Orpheu had heard of, but hardly knew in truth. He always wondered why so many nobles and the smallfolk started flocking to these faiths… After all, how could a flame stand against a gush of the wind? Wasn’t the “old faith”, as he called, the true one? The world was coming undone, heresies and false prophets spreading their lies, and the “old faith” dying, he thought.

However, just as his lover was finishing her sentence, a loud sound came from outside the chambers. Someone was strongly knocking on the door.

“I have already told I am not to be disturbed!”, the Knight complained loudly.

“Sir Orpheu de Haguns, Knight of the Perdan Mines, the Duchess demands your presence!”, called a voice from outside. “Open now, sir!”

The Knight looked at Thea and both their eyes widened. Orpheu was barefoot and dressed in simple white tunic and trousers for more intimate moments, and Thea wore just a simple white dress that clearly revealed her swollen belly. She only muttered “They can’t see me like this, no one…”

“The Duchess shall wait! I was not aware of any summons. Another day, perhaps!”, the Knight panicked. He wanted to keep Thea well hidden within his chambers until he could find a suitable place for her within the city, somewhere away from prying eyes. This visit, however, was unexpected and caused him to sweat in cold.

“Sir, please open the door. We must escort you to Her Grace’s presence. One way or another. To the court, or…”

“I am unavailable today! She shall wait and summon me in a timely manner!”, complained Orpheu, becoming visibly upset as Thea’s eyes widened.

The guards knew better, and soon knocked the door down. Three guards entered into the chambers, together with the footman that had been attending to Orpheu, and saw a young, lanky and handsome youth in intimate clothing with another woman. The footman strode towards the Knight, a look of disbelief in his face, for he knew the Knight was unmarried. “A whore? In the Ducal Palace?”. Well, that footman was either naïve or new to the role.

The Knight immediately went against the footman, his hands trying to reach the poor lad’s throat, for he had insulted the mother of a Haguns child. Before the Knight could reach him, however, the armored guards stepped in and restrained Orpheu. “Unhandle me! Release me!”

Soon, with all the ruckus that was happening, two other guards entered into the chamber and took Thea by the arms as well. Soon, the Knight started ordering. “Release her! Let her go! I will pay you, just let her go!”

The Knight was dragged through the palace’s corridors by two guards, but offered much resistance and almost managed to break free. A third guard was needed to restrain him further as he cried “You have no right! I am of noble blood! You will hang for this!”. Thea, crying loudly, was escorted more gently by two other guards, who realized she was pregnant.

By the time Orpheu and Thea arrived before the Duchess and her companions, he had given up his fight. She was immediately released, and instinctively held her swollen belly in a protective manner, her face red as she wept in embarrassment, her eyes to the ground.

The Knight had hate in his icy blye eyes, his white tunic had ben shredded as he tried to force his way out of the guard’s restrain, his trousers were unfit and he was barefoot. Yes, he was a handsome youth, but now he looked like a murderous vagabond.

“Duchess Storme”, he barked, “is this the way you treat guests? Is this the way you treat nobles? Is this the way to treat the paramount Knight of the Perdan Mines? How dare you! To have me brought through violence before your very presence!” With disgust, he spit at the floor, his eyes flaring at her.

MacArbin

Kenneth gave a slight grin at Aila's usual abrupt manner, and he smoothly slid into the conversation before Oliver could respond.

"That will also have the welcome effect of making sure the Queen sees some action taken on her recent concerns, which would make it less likely I would need to take action of my own. Which, indeed, I have a feeling would be necessary sooner rather than later if nothing else is done."

The tone was that of friendly support, rather than warning, but he knew Oliver was not a fool despite occasional issues like the one before them, and he did not think the nuance would be lost. There would be some kind of consequence, the question was merely what. He subsided at that point, content to leave the rest to Aila, as he imagined the two would have much to discuss and there was little he could add to it.

At least, until a half-dressed pair was brought into the study by the guards, which arrival brought Kenneth to his feet once more. The man had to be Orpheu, Kenneth had seen the sketches his gossips had put together, but the woman did not match the sketch or description of the man's betrothed, which left her out of the Ambassador's reckoning, though that alone could be useful...And given Orpheu's behaviour, possibly immediately. He saw Aila's eyes flash at the blatant disrespect offered, backed by her next words.

"When you disturb the peace in my City, you forfeit my good hospitality!"

When she took a step forward, Kenneth knew her blood was up, and Orpheu's might well be splattered shortly, and he slipped an arm around her, squeezing twice tightly in warning, as he spoke in turn.

"Sir Orpheu. Your behaviour is the subject of discussion, and I would consider your next response carefully in that light."

He turned his gaze toward the flushed woman.

"That said, I intend no insult to the Aumerles, and I will summon an escort to return you to the Mines in proper state."

The Duke's voice was silken and courteous, but the knowledge in his eyes was perhaps all the more frightening to the pregnant woman because of it.

"Unless, of course, there is some reason I should not?"

Laststar

Oliver had barely made it to the platter of wine that had been set out by the servants, smugly inviting himself in, when Aila had all at once shouted for guards; and in a frenzy of a few moments, Oliver watched with wide eyes as soldiers rushed through in and out suddenly with a new mission. He had to admit, it gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling inside when it all happens.

When the shock was over, Oliver began smiling again charmingly—or annoyingly perhaps. The young lord settled back into a smooth stride, picked up a silver-handled pitcher from the mirrored platter and poured wine for his two betters in the room. Grinning all the while, and he jokes light-heartedly,

"Please. Your grace, my lord," He replies in his coy tone, after having offered the glasses, and waves benignly. "If I wasn't here to break the old—and out-moded conventions, then I barely be half as interesting. Wouldn't you agree? I always operate within the rules, even though I may earn a few scowls along the way."

Oliver pauses by a fruit bowl, snatching up a red apple and he buffs it across his jacket before biting into it; apparently no wine for himself. "I am interested in having you in my army though, Your grace, my imagination is already full to bursting with all the ideas we could do. But I would very much like to hear more of what plans you have to... Bring my Valiants even more renown?"

Eventually, when the guards had made it back to the room with the two miserable looking couple in tow, Oliver watched it all unfold with a cocked eyebrow. His grin would have split his face apart if it could possibly stretch any farther than it is now at the sight of the raucous knight spitting and screaming outrage—a joyous noise to Oliver's ears. The woman Orpheu came in with caught his attention, she wasn't familiar to Oliver, but he started considering he could change that very quickly.

"My lady. I take it you two know each other?" The Earl of Nascot asks the Not-Cecile with a small grin; rather seemingly trying to play off the sudden hostile air. "Her Grace, Aila Storme, and His Grace," Oliver introduces smoothly, "Kenneth MacArbin of Bescanon are both quite interested in what Sir Orpheu has to say. I hope you aren't his accomplice in all of this. Oh and I'm Oliver of Nascot by the by."

"And..." Oliver turns back to Orpheu, spinning his half-eaten apple in his hand. The sight of the foolish, seemingly barbaric man nearly made Oliver grit his teeth.

"I would be lying if I said I'm happy to see you again, so soon Sir Orpheu... Are you hungry by any chance?"

As Oliver asks so courteously, he suddenly tosses his apple underhand right towards the raging knight's face from across the room; much like a cat toying with a caught mouse. Oliver watches with a dark grin to see what Orpheu would do next.

Storme

"Oliver!" Her ire switched from one man to the other, outraged by the Earl's callousness even when he had the upper hard. Besides, this was her study and "Those rugs are more valuable than you can afford to replace so have a care will you?"

Kenneth's steadfast hold keeps Aila from approaching, lingering at a distance to survey the troublesome teenage knight and what must've been a whore, because Aila knew every courtier and minor noble in her court and this fat-bellied girl was not one. Her sobbing only garners more attention from the Duchess who snaps at her "THAT GOES FOR YOU TOO" in reference to what she considered peasant mess in the form of tears dribbling onto her floor coverings.

"Let me make this very clear. I will bring whoever, wherever, by whatever means I feel like at any time of day or night. I am not here to listen to the excuses you likely have as to why everyone else is at fault. You are seventeen afterall, and we all know when teenagers open their mouths only lies emerge. So in light of that, I will consider the tenderness of you age when placing my punishment despite the trouble you cause and the civility you lack."

Even when she insults him the Perdanese accent stays in place, She has a sweet and feminine voice to speak her venom with. "I am your Duchess, you've been in my city, taking in it's sights and history and..." She rolls her eyes on what she had already dubbed the fat girl "establishments...."

"Yet this is the first we meet. No formal pledge of service, no request for a meeting, not a fruit basket not even a -SIMPLE- card. Instead this, an attack on a Marshal, the bannerman of my betrothed within /my own walls/" As she speaks there is no room to form a rebuttal, she puts emphasis on words as if she is lecturing a child and the whole time stares him down with malevolent hazel eyes. "Since you wish to bring the unfavorable about you will not enjoy the hospitality of the Palace anymore; Because of the war effort I will allow you to station a unit OUTSIDE of the walls of the city where you and " Another glance is cast cruelly on the fat girl she knew could not withstand her, disapproving of tears still tumbling down her cheeks. "-what ever- you drag around with you cannot harm the rest of us. Such is my power as Margravine.

Now for my power as Duchess!

You also will ask your Lord to have you assigned to Sir Oliver's army and if you do not of course, I will. In doing this you will serve and fight with him until you can follow his example to learn obedience, proper noble behavior and appreciate the structure in which we all belong.

I think you ought to say thank you for my benevolent mercy. Make it -nice- because I am a very creative Lady."

De Haguns

While Orpheu could not understand this now, he was in one of the defining moments of his life, one of those where even the smallest thoughts, movements or words could have significance that would reverberate through the years to come, maybe even his life.

The defining matter in question – who he truly was, when facing against such adversity?

Inside his head, a hurricane of rage and hate stormed. He could see his long pale fingers strangling Oliver’s and Aila’s throats… as much as he could see a child being raised with happiness in the badlands, hopefully away and shielded from the injustices he had suffered now in the Court. His child. As much as there was hate, there was love; as much as there was despair, there was hope.

An apple thrown by Laststar hit his mouth, but it did not hurt. His face moved sideways, more a reflexive action than pain. His expression became emotionless, his eyes’s flaring rage subsided into the cold eyes of a dead man. What the Knight was learning was that the world is not the beautiful place where honor and justice prevails, but rather one where the strong devour the weak, where intrigue prevails over truth.

He eyed the Earl of Nascot and understood immediately. His venomous lies had spread to the Duchess’s ear, and now the Knight suffered the indignity of his intrigues, and worse, the mother of his child had to suffer it as well. For a moment, Orpheu hated himself for subjecting her to this situation. But more than that, he hated Oliver and Aila, and vowed to break them, even if it took him a lifetime.

He listened as Kenneth, Oliver and Aila spoke, and rmained silent. The only sound from that side of the room was Thea, who still wept a bit, but soon stopped. She was mortified with what was happening, terrified of Aila and just wished to disappear into the ground, though her unyielding devotion to Orpheu would never allow her to do that.

The Knight thought about the choices he had made so far in his young life. Had he accepted that offer, perhaps things would have been different now. Perhaps there were truth in those words, and with his refusal, he had defied the goddesses’ will, and now he was subject to their punishment? Alas, when posed with the very question, he had to choose – who was he? By being true to his vows to the realm, was he not serving the goddess Elysia? Yet, just as he had kept a vow of loyalty to his countrymen, he had broken another to his betrothed Cerise… was he godly at all?

He understood now, this was his punishment for betraying his sacred vow to Cerise, as unfair and disproportional as it was. He wanted to go on a rampage of insults against the Duchess and the Earl, call him a coward who hides under her skirt and so much more, an her an ungrateful whore… yet his eyes moved to Thea and his child, and he knew he was in no position to risk them now. What was pride, revenge, hate, loyalty and duty if compared to the gift of love that grew within her lover’s womb? He had more to protect now than his pride, or his head.

His eyes turned back to the Duke of the Riverlands and the Knight thought that man could be his only ally within that room. Perhaps, in her mercy, Elysia had seen fit to have him present there to help the Knight.

Yet, the seeds of treason tempted him. A wicked idea crossed his mind… within Laststar’s band of buffoons, he would know their movements, and he could… no, that was not like him. Even if he suffered the greatest injustice, he would not act against everything he believed. Duty, honor, courage. Those values defined his very core, even if he did not yet live up to them, even if he was but a troublemaker so far. But he had made a promise, a vow to Thea, to become the man he was supposed to be, and he intended to keep it. Thea was right, as always – he would have to ‘grow up’ fast, or face the consequences.

And right now, he was facing a battle he could not win, so when in hell, you may as well embrace the devil.

Finally, he spoke, his voice collected and calm, his eyes in a lost gaze, not fixing anybody at all. He just looked across the room until he finally turned to Kenneth, “I apologize for not recognizing the good nobleman, so I could address in the proper fashion, but I wish to express my gratitude for your warning and advice. I ask nothing for me, just that at least a cloak may be arranged for my squire, so she may not suffer the indignity of standing almost in the nude before Her Grace, the Duchess, and your very eyes.”, he said, looking at Thea. She eyed him still with a red face, but had a grateful, sad expression. “And yes, I will have my own men escort her to the Mines, to stay with my brother in Pelasgia. Her… current state demands certain care, I fear, as she would not be able to accompany me during war.”

He knew both his brother Marcellus and the Aumerle girl would not receive the news well, but he could not postpone this forever. He and Thea shared glances, as if they knew that any thoughts they had given to marriage, even in secret, seemed now… impossible. But he already had an idea on his mind to at least preserve her reputation. He would say he had seduced the young woman and that she was faultless, so maybe she would not suffer wrath in the Mines.

In a way, however, he now felt the sweet freedom. Knowing a shameful secret gives power, and he would not let anyone hold him hostage in a web of lies and deceit.

His gaze turned towards Aila, hate once again burning in his eyes as he narrowed them. Yet, his voice came as cool as ever. “Your Grace. I am regretful that we meet under these circumstances, and I beg forgiveness for not presenting myself in a proper way, as befit a noble of my station. And a friend of yours, of course. Unfortunately, it seems my presence was deemed absolutely necessary, to have me presented in this fashion. I must imagine that the time you spent in chains in Perleone might have given Your Grace some perspective in proper attire and behavior, and now it is your wish to enforce these customs in your very Court?”, he bowed his head gracefully, a smile quirking on his lips. Even under pressure, he would not bend entirely.

“I would be honored to serve within the Earl of Nascot’s Unstoppable Valiants”, he said, his burning eyes moving towards Oliver. “Alas, I shall not request this. I fear my men might revolt if they were to serve under someone accused of pillaging and rampage innocent villagers, a nobleman who expressly defied Her Majesty, the Queen’s orders. I must warn Your Grace¸ I shall appeal of this decision, should I be assigned to serve under his ‘Army’”.

He dared her to go forward with this. There was only much a Duchess could do.

“For my stay in the Ducal Palace and City, Your Grace, I concur with your gracious decision. I would rather have the company of my men, and sleep below the starry sky, hearing the gentle whisper of the winds, than stay in this Court.”

Orpheu would persevere through iron and fire, and against all they threw towards him. He was not a man to be easily despoiled.

Laststar

Oliver shrugs innocently towards the duchess after his apple managed to smack Orpheu in the cheek, not that it was as much consequence to him. His lips twitch at the sight of Orpheu squirming to control his rage. This man dared tried to mock and slander him, and it was fully in Oliver's rights he felt to see the boy punished. This idiot before him now will learn the entirety of his mistakes in due time; or rather soon, if Oliver can manage.

"Forgive me, Orpheu. I thought you would have had reflexes to catch that," Oliver oozes smoothingly. "Perhaps you aren't as quick as I thought." Which was a low estimation already, from what Oliver's grinning eyes told.

Standing tall and collected; Oliver decided he would be the picture of serenity, after all the raging knight's outbursts he'd strike quite the contrast.

"And please." He continues diplomatically, tilting his head just so. "You're the person in the kingdom who so accuses my army of this... 'rampaging'. If you're to serve in my army I'll be glad to have you... After all. I can't imagine no better person than me to serve as your role model as an honorable warrior on the battlefield. The first thing you must is merely not tell these outrageous lies to your men, and then they'll have no issue being a Valiant. The problem solved."

Calmly. Oliver raises two fingers in the air, looking from the dukes in the room with his easy smile until his gaze swivels back over Thea. An idea occurs to him. "The second thing... This is your squire Sir Orpheu? I hope my lords aren't actually considering sending from what you say... A sensitive young woman all the way to Perdan Mines with a small entourage? The very region famous for its constant monster attacks and undeads swarming the roads? It was attacked twice in a row just a few days ago in fact."

Obviously an absurd notion. Oliver sternly shakes his head so.

"I believe that a squire should never be too far from her knight, but in this case... Since the knight in question is so prone to rage and violent outbursts. I believe she should temporarily be placed under my more tender care for quality tutelage. I'll serve as a model for her as well, if you both agree she should be placed under me for the time being. There would be no safer place in the kingdom than to be surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands of Perdan's fine warriors in the heart of an army. At my protective side no less. Rather than risk the dark forest trails and treacherous mountain passes crawling with beasts and all manner of terrible things."

"Do you agree my lords? This better serves everyone, and I will be quicker to forgive our hot-blooded Orpheu this way." His head tilts to the side slightly, seemingly curious of the duchess and duke.

MacArbin

Kenneth's habitual smile gave way to an unusually serious expression, and his voice was quiet as he made his way to one of the guards outside, relieving the woman of her cloak, and offering it wordlessly to the poor woman before standing to the side where he could see both men easily.

"Enough, both of you. Sir Orpheu, your actions have been unwise and show that subtlety is wasted on you, so I will be more blunt: Your dispute with the good Earl is irrelevant to me. He is capable of handling his own disputes, and has done so before now easily enough."

Chill crept into his tone.

"Your insults toward the Duchess are another matter. Correct them, and this remains a dispute between you and one other noble. Fail to do so, and you invite the enmity of many, myself included. And in case that is not clear enough..."

He gestured toward the man's squire. He had not expected Orpheu to counter as he had, and approved of the thrust.

"I have a vested interest in preventing this matter from escalating further. If it does not, then I will see to your squire's protection, for the moment. Should this continue to escalate, then I will act to end the matter by any means necessary, using any tools at my disposal."

His gaze shifted back to Oliver.

"My good Earl, I suggest you continue this in another arena. We have business to attend to, and as amusing as your antics can be at times, this is no longer one of them. If you have been so insulted and assaulted by the matter, take it before the Judge-Magister if you wish, or settle it with a duel. This study is the place for neither."

The duke gestured toward his betrothed.

"This is her demesne, not either of yours. I urge you both to consider that and think before you reply again."

Storme

Orpheau’s gaze does nothing to disturb the look of overwhelming supremacy a woman like Aila could muster, especially with the Duke of the Riverlands at her side. She listened to the knight make his explanations, his threats in a sense.The mention of refusing one of her demands brings a tension to the Duchess’ jaw, but she remains silently simmering and waiting to see if this man would dig his grave any deeper.

Oliver cuts in, mentioning the fat woman again - not as fat Aila had first assumed and as the Earl pointed out; unsuitable to take a trip like the one Orphau was suggesting, surely. She looked pathetic afterall, all blubbering and watery eyed, cowering in her smallclothes. As Oliver makes his offer Aila feels a certain satisfaction with the idea of splitting them up, but also a deep suspicion with what Oliver might do with her thereafter. He had tried to have his way with a woman in her state before, and though Aila felt no love for the girl the weakness in her heart for children remained. As Oliver asked her permission she simply glared at him with a glum disapproval, and fortunately for him Kenneth spoke first.

All the fiery disapproval she had for the knight, and the troubles that had come to her mind with Oliver melted when she watched Kenneth go about his work, both chiding the silly teenager as well as defending her against such overt disrespect. She watched him with a dreamy gaze almost as if she had forgotten to be upset for the moment while she watched him lay down his expectations without any room for argument.

She stands by his decision even though she does not have to, and nods with agreement at the offer made “I think this is the best course, too. You have been banned from the City, and you will serve in the Unstoppable Valiants, under Marshal Oliver. If you want to do things the hard way we can do that too.

The woman will stay under the protection of the Duke of the Riverlands in Bescanon and that is all of my business with you. The rest, I care little about...that is, except for her. Girl!”

Aila commands the attention of the shaken ‘squire’ “ I do agree with the Earl that you will not re returning to the mines, it is far too dangerous. Tell me your family name? It is only proper to notify your noble Father as to where you confinement will be.”

De Haguns

Orpheu glared in disbelief at Oliver’s suggestion. The gall of the man, to think he could have his Thea! Now he fully understood the implications of that reference he had made about a fiancée or woman as the reason for their feud, and could see the full depravity of the man. How could such a man call himself a knight and lord of the realm? How could someone like him hold title and power, if only to abuse of those powerless, such as a pregnant woman? The Knight was thoroughly horrified with the very idea that she could fall into his devious claws.

Haguns looked at Thea and her eyes were wide in fear, as if she was being sentenced to death by the mere suggestion of Oliver. She tried to mutter something, but could not, and looked at Orpheu for help. She had never imagined being in such a situation, her modesty exposed in such a humiliating way.

The Knight was ready to roar his protest, but before he could do so, the Duke of the Riverlands stepped in, after handing Thea a cloak, which she immediately made use of to hide within, only her head in view.

The Duke’s tone was cold and Orpheu could immediately understand the not so veiled threat as Kenneth spoke. However, the Knight was grateful, not only for that small gesture of kindness to his lover, but also by offering him a way out of this situation, and offering protection to Thea.

For her sake, and his child, the Knight immediately went to his one knee before the Duchess, yet his gaze did not shy away from her eyes, his veiled petulance glimpsing. And he did not want to forget those eyes, ever. “Your Grace, forgive me. My words and disrespect were uttered without a second thought, and they do not reflect my esteem for the grand Duchess of Perdan, the Lioness of Gold that enlightens all of her subjects through her valor, wisdom and magnificence.”

As Orpheu unflinching, stony gaze rested on the Duchess, he thought how she would one day rue the day she had made him her enemy. Just as Oliver. He recalled what he had told him earlier, which he now vowed on her - for he was now but a mere breeze, gentle, but one day would become the true storm that would one day strip her bare of her pride. But now, survival was more important than revenge.

He rose as fast as he had knelt, for he did not want to prostrate himself before an unworthy ruler any longer than needed. He listened to Aila and even if there was turmoil inside his mind, he tried to calm down, while Thea, wrapping herself in the cloak that had been handed by Kenneth was abruptly scared by the Duchess addressing her. That question was… odd.

“I… Your Grace”, she corrected herself, “I am not of… noble birth. I am Theodora Oakenshield…”

Before Thea could finish, Orpheu interrupted her. His tone was more serious than it had been so far. He was preparing himself for what was to come. “She is my squire, chosen by merit and trust to act as such, and the mother of my child. A Haguns is growing in her womb. As the Father”, he said, his intonation louder as he spoke that word, treading lightly between simple information and threat, “I agree and thank the offer she should be hosted in Bescanon. It is a holy city to my religion, for it is where one of the last temples of the Triumvirate lies. Most auspicious for the birth of my firstborn.”

It was also away from the Mines, though he knew Cerise and Marcellus would soon hear the news. At least Thea wouldn't be there to suffer the consequences.

His eyes went towards the Duke of the Riverlands and he nodded respectfully, bowing lightly, as a sign of respect, as he addressed him. “I hope that she will be awarded the same courtesy and treatment of a dame of noble rank, as the mother of my child, as I would treat another woman should any other knight or lord request me under the same circumstances. Any expenses she may incur will, of course, be paid by the House de Haguns.”

Laststar

Oliver shrugs his shoulders at Aila under the woman's cold glare; and smirked, of course he should have expected the duchess to feel some jealousy as soon as he made the suggestion. If Aila thought that of him, then she might just be surprised if he had his way. He grinned a little wider. This was becoming more interesting.

And when Orpheu finally kneels, and apologizes to the duchess. Oliver nods in turn, at least the teenager seemed to have some sense of decorum.

"So. You're asking for higher accommodations for a common woman and your bastard? Hmm..." Oliver hums with disapproval at the notion. "I suppose if my liege, Duke Kenneth, wishes to take control of her hospitality then I fear I will have to relent, but as long as she has the opportunity to stay in the duchy, she will be able to all the sights from Becscanon to Nascot. As Nascot hosts especially fine heated pools—fully conducive to the well-being of a woman expecting."

His teeth flash through his most charming grin, and he offers a courteous small bow of acknowledgement to Theodorah in turn. "I'm sure you will enjoy your stay, if you happen to go..."

MacArbin

Kenneth nodded to Orpheu. He had caught the sarcasm, of course, but it was enough that the man had gone through the forms. This situation was far too volatile to continue as it was, particularly when Aila laughed derisively at Orpheu's claiming of Theodora's child.

"She will be cared for appropriately."

His voice rose to carry into the hall.

"Guards, escort Squire Theodora to whatever chambers she was using, that she might gather her things and anything else she needs, on my account, and arrange for her to be escorted to Bescanon. Have word brought to Cynthia that she should be housed and attended as befits a warrior of some rank-"

Aila interjected, bitingly. "A common one!"

At which Kenneth paused a moment, before continuing "Perhaps the guest suite normally set aside for Archivist Severin. I will see to the rest upon my return. Sir Orpheu, now is the time for you to depart as well."

Two of the guards had entered when called, and with a quick glance at Aila to see if she gainsayed him, took up formation on either side of Theodora as she departed in one direction. Before he left the room, the Knight of the Perdan Mines glanced at Aila and then swung to Oliver, but said nothing. An idea he had thought unthinkable before, started to persistently stir his mind... But he would need to be careful not to raise suspicion before the time was right, if it ever came to this. Then he turned, and strode stiffly out, down a different corridor than Theodora.

With that razor-sharp hazard handled, temporarily at least, he turned all his attention to the next.

He turned toward Aila, nodding a brief apology at taking command in her space, and standing at recognizable attention, waiting for her next actions with a curious gaze. He had more to say, but the time was not yet right.

Storme

Aila stood with her arms folded watching the young knight leave defeated, a satisfied smile in place long after his sorry footfalls had faded away down the hallway. Left with Oliver and Kenneth she glances at both of them, shrugging dismissively at the whole ordeal. "He can sulk and scowl all he likes" she declares, convinced that she is in the right in this case, she defends herself even though no one has criticized her yet "No one will disturb my city, then disrespect me in my own palace"

She turns her back to the two men, returning to her desk where she sits in her massive chair before continuing to grumble about Orpheu and his behavior "Do they not teach manners in the mines...? Expectations? A commoner- really" she begins to laugh again. "I can't understand what would make a man of noble blood not just sleep with one but then claim a child by one." She looks to the sideboard, wishing Gideon was there to pour her drinks and sulk while she complained about commoners. "So embarrassing" she goes on, leaning on the arm of her chair and softening in demeanor; having the wind taken from her sails compared to when she first arrived at the palace. Her plans remained, but her energy did not- and as the satisfaction of humiliating Orpheu fades, she feels the cheap Perloene fabric and grime from the prison she was so determined to ignore before.

Her voice is tired as she finally lets go of the anger for the knight and his antics, and she praises her betrothed "You handled it beautifully as usually Kenneth" before frowning at Oliver for a split second before relenting again "You- are entertaining. At least you have that. I am sorry, it seems every mishap has to happen in /my/ city and you get caught in the crossfire every time" Even as she says it, Aila sits straight- speaking the words had cast doubt on her own resolve. He was involved /every/ time.

"You /didn't/ do anything to provoke him, right?"

Laststar

He watches Orpheu trudge out of the room as Oliver kept a lopsided smirk on his face. Unfortunately he wouldn't get to toy with the foolish knight more today.

"Obviously. I did." Oliver replies pompously, and flips his long hair out of the way as he goes to sink into a plump armchair. Waving his hand flippantly at the double doors Orpheu went through. It was clear Oliver was feeling smug. "By my mere, much more splendid and perfect existence I managed to stir the fool into extreme violence from just a casual shoulder bump in the street—Unbeknownst to me, that I would pull out the full barbarity of his little mind for all to witness, as you both saw."

"The boy is so malleable to his basest envy, he couldn't help but lash out at his betters. Either he was never trained in proper decorum, or perhaps he's actually a bastard of his line." Oliver shakes his head, mockingly and pitying. "Such a shame..."

From the armchair, Oliver continues to smile like it's all within the norm for him. He cups his chin in his palm as his gaze flicks from Kenneth to Aila. Lingering more on the poor state of the duchess's dress; and thinking for a moment what laid under it. "I didn't mean you catch you in this little feud the child started with me though, Your Grace. In due time I'll settle it if he never improves... But. Didn't you want to talk about something else though?"