Storme Family/Aila/AilaxKenneth

Duchess of the Hunt

Her letter to Kenneth contained an unintentional understatement, the hunting lodge she had planned to host the Caligan ambassadors at for their hunt was not abandoned at this time of day, it appeared to be plain abandoned. Overgrown weeds and fallen trees tell her instantly that the place has not been used since the Autumn, and with the help of Gideon she manages to pry open the lock on the door, seized locked after being left untouched over two seasons.

Inside is in thankfully better shape. A large main room greets her, all windows still in place, everything looking dry and just as it should. A huge hearth with a massive mounted trophy is the focus of the room, two male moose heads with antlers interlocked. Stuffed and mounted, forever telling the story of their conflict with each other and serving as little more than a conversation piece for smarmy nobility as a result.

A short walk around the building pulling back heavy linen covers reveals rows of trophies bolted to nearly every inch of the walls in the hallways, from deer racks to bear teeth, furniture carved with all types of animals, closets packed with linens for the few bedrooms and a kitchen stocked with implements. All of this confirms to meticulous Aila that with some cleaning and a fire in the hearth it should be more than suitable to host some nobles for a hunt.

When she returns to the main hall Gideon has already left to look outdoors again. As he had said earlier, he was about to set to work clearing the tree that had fallen across the road to the lodge in order to let the horses through. The echo of his axe reaches past the log-cabin walls of the place to the young Duchess standing alone amid the dusty furniture covers. Whether Kenneth decides to join her or not, this trip was not a waste…Having seen the place herself she already had a mental list miles long of things to tell her staff.

Kenneth and his entourage rode up to the lodge, the sound of axe strikes guiding the way. He nodded to Gideon, and seconded a few of his burlier retainers to assist with the tree as he dismounted and made his way in, waving the rest to stay with the horses.

His nose wrinkled somewhat as he made his way to the hall, taking in the general air of abandonment, but he then nodded approvingly. A little sprucing up was really all that was needed, yes...

His breath caught momentarily as reached the main hall and saw his quarry, but a momentary effort brought his reaction under control.

"A good choice, my lady. Let me know if you need anything, I can bring people from Nascot quite easily."

Around them the cabin loomed empty and silent, but the setting matters very little when Kenneth is near. A handsome figure set against the sunlight pouring in from the open doorway behind him. The silhouette she had been dreaming of during her long time in Isadril.

Logistics of the event had left her mind the moment she heard others approaching outdoors, when Kenneth entered to find her waiting and mentioned staff straight away she was at a rare loss. Standing before him still in her riding gear tailored of supple black dyed leather, with her long golden toned hair tied in a braid tousled by a day of horse riding she looked more like a hunter in that lodge than a Duchess; But there could be no mistaking what she was based on the perfect Peradanese accent always present in her voice. “You look Wonderful! But how have you been? Really.” Where for most there would be a steely glare or superior sneer for Kenneth there was genuine interest, maybe even a tinge of concern as she took one cautious step toward him. He knew as well as anyone that she had more staff than a hunting event could ever require a hundred times over, and had come alone inside so Aila takes the leap and adds on the sentiment “I have missed you.”

His smile brightened.

“I could say the same to you, oh Duchess of the Hunt. I have been...Better.”

As she adds her codicil, he looks uncharacteristically hesitant.

“I have missed you...I...Mm, I think there is something we might need to resolve, first. We had discussed being...Authentic, which is very…”

His hand jerks up in a frustrated gesture.

“I am not used to it. It felt...Very good...However…”

The normally suave Ambassador’s face was almost anguished. He closed the remaining distance between them, catching her up in his arms.

“When I drop the artifice, I also lose any self-control. And without any self-control…”

His arms trembled around her.

“I am not...Always kind or gentle.”

He is agitated, she sees it at once and a smile does not rise to her face as he approaches her. Caught in an embrace she wraps her arms tight around him. While he trembles, she holds fast as he makes his confession and when done Aila tips her head back, pushing away from him slightly just to get another long look at him. She wants him, and best of all she feels he wants her as well- but cannot help but push the boundaries. Nose to nose she quips “Well I am never kind and rarely gentle” before catching his lip in an audacious love-bite and urgently pressing further into a passionate kiss before he can protest...

He stills, and then kisses back fiercely. The trembling is gone, the hesitancy is gone. And as they finish the kiss, his lips curl up into a predatory smile, as his fingers wrapped her braid around one firm hand.

“Well, then. If I need not worry, then I can just…”

He pulled her hair back, exposing a vulnerable throat, and returned her bite, before growling out.

“Enjoy”

In an instant the so-called Duchess of the Hunt became prey to the Duke ensnaring her symbolic mane in one forceful fist. Her heart is pounding straight away, and she instinctively cradles the back of his neck in her palm, letting out an involuntary whimper as treats her so roughly. The fiery nature inside her says to push him off and show him she is the one in charge but there is something enticingly adverse to her nature about letting go of power. Instead of attempting to get the upper hand she submits, agreeing through ragged breathes “Enjoy.”

---

Outside their retainers worked diligently to clear anything else fallen over the walking trails while thinking that inside, two very important people were working very hard. In a manner of speaking, they had worked very hard though very little work got done. The sun that had made Kenneths arrival so breathtaking to behold had faded into a gray cast by the time the two Dukes had conducted their business in the lodge.

Only partly dressed, Aila sits beside Kenneth on a still covered seat dabbing his back with a square of fabric pilfered from his own jacket. She got a bit of a shock, as they recovered from the encounter when she had noticed stains on her hands... There is only bewilderment in Aila’s voice as she explains “I don’t know what came over me, I have never done this before” while holding his long dark hair out of the way, insisting on cleaning the collection of cat-like scratches on his shoulders herself.

Kenneth’s breath hissed a moment at a particular sting before he responded.

“Well, that makes two of us, certainly…”

He twisted around to catch her eye with a wicked grin.

“Fair’s fair, though, if a few-”

He winced as her hand pressed on a deeper scratch.

“-several scratches are what I have to pay, then I’ll have come out well ahead in the exchange.”

Aila can tell Kenneth is trying to make her feel better but it does not help her much, hearing him hiss and seeing him wince. In her eyes he is a lovely man, and after what they agreed he shouldn’t have to suffer anything at all. “I will not do it again” She assures him quietly, sure there would be no more specks of blood to appear before scooping his shirt off the floor and handing it to him. She pulls the bottoms of her riding gear off the dusty floor, flicking them once before pulling them onto her legs, standing shortly after to the sound of the silver latch on her belt clinking as she fastens it in front of him. Finally, she tears her eyes off of him to check outside, rising to the tips of her toes to see out the dusty windows. Their men had built a fire, all sitting together around the crackling branches of some of the trees they had worked together to clear.

Seeing they had more time together she dares to accuse “But you did not say anything, either”.

He had been enjoying the view of her dressing, but his eyes moved upwards with a grin as he stood, shrugging into the sleeves of his shirt, though he did not bother with the ties.

“I believe I was saying everything necessary. Or were my actions not speaking loudly enough? Perhaps I need more practice in speaking your...”

His hands wrapped around her hips, pulling her back against him as he leaned down to breathe in her ear.

“Language.”

This man...A strong arm around her waist and a whispered word sent a shiver of desire through her again, so soon after such a satisfying interlude together. How did he do that so easily? Kenneth has always had an intensity that came easy, but had never directed it at her. It is addicting, she finds herself hovering close to him again… The quiver in her breath is cut short by the sharpness of her tongue attempting to save herself from getting lost with him once again “Try; AILA! You’re bloody killing me! Next time.” she offers with a playful grin.

He laughed, arms tightening around her as he shook a little.

“I will bear that in mind! But I will repeat, and I am certain you can feel that I am not acting even had our rules not disallowed such artifice, that I quite enjoyed myself.”

She could feel his grin against her cheek as he gave a quick kiss.

“Now, the question is, shall we wander out and have someone prepare us a meal? Or simply have them bring something in while we explore more leisurely?”

His hands and lips left little confusion as to what he preferred.

He takes her with good humor as always, something else she had always admired about him. Knowing her since she was so young, he had plenty of reasons not to like her by now but seemed to look past them all to what? She couldn’t decide. The business of his hands and lips gave a hint, perhaps the beauty she possessed was the key to her success with staying on his good side? She answers his question simply with “If we wait long enough, Gideon will feed us. He will not let me skip a meal even if I try. Look at the place with me, you will see the work that needs to be done and we can talk. You spoke of many things in your letters, your dealings with commoners and their guild. Eros Harte? It all left me rather curious”. As she speaks, Aila coaxes him along to inspect the place again with her.

Kenneth followed her lead willingly enough, though he captured one arm and continued running his fingers over it while they continued.

“Ah, loyal Gideon, I should have remembered. Fair enough. We do have some work to do, yes...Ah, the Guild? In essence, a place where we can find adventurers for various services. Item repairs, the rediscovery of forgotten lore, and the hunting of various things that go bump in the night. Quite useful, in all, and the Guild helps finance the equipment of the commoners so they can be of more use, and thus we all benefit.”

He frowned at a splintered section of wall, which looked as though someone had used it for target practice, pointing it out briefly before continuing.

“Duke Eros is quite the character. I think he founded the Guild to secure a steady stream of scrolls, as much as for any other reason. And he is well-practiced with them, so I suppose it was a reasonable investment. Not the sort of man to bother about much beyond that, however, and after a dispute that nearly saw Perdan found its own guild for a similar purpose, I convinced him to make me an Elder of the guild to oversee things. And I have done…”

He waggled his free hand, then nodded as she pointed out a good staging area for some of the food, assuming the tables were still sound.

“Middling-well, I would say. The finances are still a mess, and we need more guildhouses, but membership has increased and the guild is certainly thriving. I am tolerably proud of things so far, and hope my next round of reforms will sort out the finances further. Does that assuage your curiosity, my lady? I am happy to continue babbling on if you wish, but I know this is not normally a favourite topic of yours.”

“I have always found them to be troublesome,” Aila agrees reluctantly but goes on “Yet over the years I have been slowly gaining an appreciation for their uses. Still I cannot bring myself to join that guild. But! I opened the museum for them did I not?" She muses defensively “And I had food for them on Leandra's day, and after the disasters I did not drop the efforts to support them so” she shrugs, obviously struggling under her own ambivalence.

Not entirely sure why she was defending herself she offers “If you are at the helm then I would see fit to, perhaps help fund it. The war is over, afterall.” As she says this Aila jerks open the large doors of a wardrobe in one of the few bedrooms, revealing lots of folded up, white sheets. She shuts it again “You asked about Oliver too. I was impressed at how close tabs you keep on your Steward- meanwhile mine sits happily in Alyssa’s pocket, well paid by me and no doubt tattling at every turn...She is good at her job, though.”

He arches an amused eyebrow.

“You keep the city in good form, I doubt any of your smallfolk have reason to complain. And while I would welcome more funding for the Guild, you need not join on my account. ‘Authentic’ was the name of the game, after all, and I do not want you to be someone you are not. Not for me.”

He noted a particularly impressive spear rack, built of a fine dark wood with bronzed trimmings, which would show nicely in the main hall.

“Oliver has a great deal of potential, if he can learn to control his tongue. He has already put me in two difficult situations, though served well in a number of others, and I have hopes he will grow out of his hotheadedness.”

The Duke’s voice grew teasing.

“And do you have so many things for Isabel to ‘tattle’ on, my lady? Admittedly, she does rather leap to conclusions. Utterly convinced that I had improper designs on Alyssa for ages, even after…”

His words hitched for a moment.

“After I took up with Dustiria. I haven’t heard much from her lately, perhaps she eventually learned better.”

Kenneth compliments her first, warms her heart with the suggestion that she need not change, then tries in his own gentle way to tease her. As she is admiring how endearing it was to finally have a friend not trying to ‘groom’ her to be better, something in him shifts. Her friendly little smile drops to concern and as he speaks /that name/ she feels a pang of guilt for having brought up a subject that left him in pain. She knows the feeling well, the smell of a cigar or the label of a certain brandy on a shelf...Bottled ships.

He makes it easier and easier to forget how fresh his wounds are every time he takes her into his arms. Charisma pours from him, that straight white smile and handsome face, always seeming to have things in hand, planned out, controlled...But as he had said their agreement had to do with authenticity. She tells herself that the man everyone else sees is not her concern anymore. It is the man underneath the finery and cool composure that is who she must take care of. His wounds are fresh, while hers have been bandaged and bound for years, but she remembers how it felt...

As a result Aila does not hint at the twisting in her stomach or the reluctance to speak on the subject, instead she resolves to keep on with their conversation supportively, not calling attention to what he seemed to want to let blow on by them. That is, except for the hand that had reached out for him the moment he faltered. She couldn’t help it, Kenneth didn’t seem to resent that she had identified it...they continued on hand in hand, accepting what had just happened without a word passing between them about it.

Distracting him, she goes on about Isabel “She is a strange girl, but diligent and there is nothing of importance in her view.” Kenneth had asked what she was up to for Isabel to tattle about, and Aila assumed it was rhetorical. Would he have answered her truthfully if she asked the same? She had her doubts on that. He was a lovely man but from the way he had implied in the past that like her had no one to confide in... they had much in common. She could not hold against him that one of those common things was that it took more than a few tussles to get the real information.

“She sent me a personal letter meant for Alyssa by mistake, twit” she insults her steward within the natural flow of her sentence, a talent of hers. “Started it without a title and ended it sweetly with yours truly. Naturally I will not intervene. I care not what or who Alyssa is after but it does prove my concerns, which is all I needed to know. “

He squeezes her hand back in appreciation of not pressing on that particular scab just yet.

“That does sound rather like Isabel, yes...At least she is diligent, I suppose. Now, if I had to guess Gideon will come looking for you sometime soon, shall we get our story straight on what we wish to present to the court of public opinion on us? You know that I am not overly concerned with labels and the like, but I am happy to follow your preferences on whether we endeavour to keep this a secret entire or slanted in a particular direction.”

Where Aila had avoided his tender spot he jammed a proverbial finger into hers without a second thought. Anger swells in her, she fights back the urge to bark at him but there is no hiding the curl of her lips as she considers her reply, “I do not have anyone to answer to.” But there is something simmering under the surface as they pause in front of a second story window, she can see down to the little campfire in the yard that Gideon is already cooking something. As much as she hated being chased with food three times a day, his consistency was appreciated. It is seeing him work diligently despite how cruel she knew she could be that softened her demeanor. Reluctantly she asks Kenneth “What would you like?” already dreading his answer.

Immediately realizing he had made some misstep, but not quite understanding what, he answered cautiously but truthfully.

“While I am good at keeping secrets when necessary, I prefer not doing so if I have the choice. I am not precisely certain what we are, but I think ‘courting’ might be a reasonable term.”

He turned, holding her eyes closely in some concern.

His reply in the end is not what Aila expected, and the simmering anger resides as she meets his eyes, pondering his words carefully. “Courtship implies intention to marry” she submits, unsure if that is what he had meant. Whether it was or not, it was what the rest of the nobility would think if they found out. Not tactful enough to think of a gentler way to word it she asks Kenneth bluntly “Are you ready for that?”

His lips turned wry.

“Currently, no. I am not suggesting an engagement. But, in the future...I fully intend to marry eventually. And I would say that implication would not be inaccurate. There is more to learn, of course, for both of us I am sure, but I would at least like to explore the possibility.”

“Well, if you call it a courtship that is what people will think” She can see the look on his face, it doesn’t bother her as much as she thought it would. “That is what I would think. So if that bothers you we probably shouldn’t. I know that you intend to marry, eventually.” Aila is not saying something in an attempt to spare his feelings, but it is written on her face; She will not wait for years. “So do I. But it is if you are comfortable with it that I care about...If you are then I am.”

Kenneth nodded.

“It does not bother me. I am thinking months, perhaps a few seasons, not longer. This is recent, and intense, but it is not the first heartbreak I have suffered. And...This already feels...More right, is the best way I can put it. I am cautious, but not a fool, and I want to seize the opportunities I have while I may.”

He grinned down at her.

“Especially since the opportunities seem to enjoy being seized…”

She has finally shed the look of uncertainty, in favor intrigue “Does this mean I get you to myself?” A tongue in cheek way of asking a very obvious question, will she get to keep her toy knight? “Will every lady in Bescanon weep when they hear the news that they are losing their Duke?” Her imagination is getting the better of her quickly, she lingers close to him threatening a kiss as she muses further “Or will we bless them with both of us?”

The saucy question is interrupted by the sound of the heavy door of the lodge swinging shut, Gideon has come in looking for them. She is not willing to lose her answer, and prompts him “hm?”

Kenneth chuckled.

“Something you should know about me, my family were all raised rather differently with regard to sex than it seems most are. So long as I know who my children are, I am not likely to be jealous on matters of the flesh. Love...Is a more complicated question, but taking the ladies of Bescanon together sounds like an excellent hobby.”

He gently tugged her hair, getting in one last murmur before Gideon’s approaching footsteps found them.

“That is not to say they might not also weep from that, of course…”

Gideon reaches the landing in time to see Aila nudging Kenneth mid-laugh, a big smile on her face from whatever he had said to her. “Your Grace” He addresses them both with a dashing smile, and then realizes they are both -your grace- and clarifies “Lady Aila” with a sheepish smile.

“I know” And a sigh is the response from Aila, not because of his clarification but because she knows why he is there. “Shall we join them for dinner?” She asks Kenneth, them being her retainer and his entourage. “Probably peasant food”

“It is!” Gideons voice echoes up the stairs he has already begun jogging down ahead of them.

The Bescan Inn

Bescanon

Aila had not been back to Bescanon since Kenneth had converted her to the faith, it felt like so long ago- and so much had changed since then, yet the lands surrounding his estate were all the same. It was a comfort in a few ways, these were routes she had travelled a hundred times as a knight, from Nascot to Perdan and Bescanon as a mere afterthought in the middle. Then, when Kenneth had been appointed the Duke it had become the first place she ran when trouble struck, it really hadn’t occurred to her how significant the riverlands had been to her…

She had arrived while he was preaching in the town, and lingered in a chamber she had been brought to within his estate to change. It was a lucky thing really, she had time to change out of riding clothes for once and actually dress in something proper for him. A light dress, soft pale blue fabric cut in a summery style, and hair let down is a contrast to the almost-military style leathers and braid she wears on the road. His staff had dealt with her enough by now to know that they should give her all she wants even when arriving unannounced, so when Kenneth arrives after a day of work, he will find his staff stressed and that Aila has made herself well at home in the chamber she had been shown to.

A drink at her side, a tray of iced fruit next to that, she is sitting the wrong way in a plush chair in front of a sunny, breezy window. Her back is to the door, and in her lap, a long square of silk which drapes down to the floor- It is a scene Kenneth will remember from many long council meetings in the Pirate King’s study. In her fingers a tiny silver needle glints in the sun, attached to an expensive blue-violet thread; she is working on something, passing time until he arrives home…

Kenneth had been informed of Aila’s arrival while wrapping up another event keeping the local freeholders and guildmasters working together, and did not linger as long as he might have after resolving the latest water-diversion dispute. While some of the lingering scents were borne away on the wind as he rode, he still arrived back to Emberhame with a faintly lingering aura of various liqueurs and smokes. His outfit was his usual Ambassadorial attire, though rather less crisp given the past hours mingling, and there were a few stray hairs loose from his normally neat braid.

He accepted the anxious reports from the servants with his usual grace, and dismissed most of them from the wing for the time being. He could also call them back if needed, but he was well-aware Aila normally preferred fewer commoners around. He did keep his Castellan in the area, Cynthia was from a minor noble house and could be helpful if this turned out to be a matter of duty. She could also be trusted not to gossip, a key point in her favour.

As he opened the door well-oiled door, he paused a moment admiring the view, before calling out quietly just before he closed it, the long hours of discussion having lent a little roughness to his voice that he leaned into, making his tone a little deeper than his normal clear baritone.

“My lady. I have to say, while I would rather be more presentable to match you, having your presence at the end of a long day is a better refreshment than any other I could name.”

Her silent solitude is broken by Kenneth’s arrival, his soft call is met with a look of surprise from Aila as she turns to see who dared interrupt her again. Her expression softens at once as she sees it is him standing there and turns to sit properly in the chair, setting her work aside carefully as she greets him “Welcome home, then.” He is always so collected and calm she tries not to smile but the telltale state of him is so strangely endearing she cannot help it. They were supposed to be themselves together, anyway, right?

“You are an equally refreshing sight Your Grace” she returns, leaning against the arm of her chair appraising him in full. “I hope you do not mind me arriving unannounced; There is no serious matter I simple know what a fuss a household must go to when ‘the Duchess of Perdan’ is on her way...No I rather like the look of utter SHOCK instead.” Finally she stands, approaching him for a proper greeting, several quick but heartfelt kisses on his cheeks then lips as she takes both his hands into hers “But I knew you would not be as shocked...I think you can appreciate my need to escape that City from time to time. Among others.”

He chuckled a little before returning her greeting with equal verve, then replying.

“Yes, my new household is not quite used to the vagaries of serving a working Ambassador yet. Madam Cynthia will sort them out soon enough, but we’ll keep a few untutored sorts on hand to be properly shocked for you. And you know you are welcome here at any time, for any reason. And if this is an escape from the city, we can certainly facilitate that. Are there any particular escapes you wish to effect, first?”

Kenneth’s promise about untutored serving staff wins a little smile from her. Aila squeezes both of his hands gently, running her thumbs over the backs of his hands as she considers her answer. The truth is difficult to admit, but she has had enough of a relaxing afternoon even without him there that she lets it free regardless of what he might think of her “Being here is the escape. I simply did not want to stay there alone tonight” she laughs nervously and steps closer to him, caressing his arms through the fine fabric of his outfit as she does.

“Luna stayed a week long, it was wonderful to have her there. When she left my apartment felt twice as empty. I was frustrated at my court, and the noise of the Capital it feels unescapable at times” Aila explains with increasing desperation, knowing he of all people would know what it was like to go back to an empty bedchamber, or to be trapped in a room of minor noble making demands. “You rarely visit the Capital, and I thought since you are right next door, we might spend the afternoon together...Being authentic.”

Kenneth enjoyed the feel of her fingers running over his hands, but as she continued he slipped under them and wrapped her in his arms.

“That I can understand. In truth, I would be in the capital more, to visit you if nothing else, were I close to home all that often these days. I travel back to handle occasional matters like this, but I have been spending the last few months working to convince all the minor nobility and guildmistresses and the like that the alliance with Caligus is all to the good.”

He shook his head as Aila opened her mouth to rebut, and she pauses to hear him out; He says exactly what is in her mind.

“I know that is neither here nor there, but...I wanted you to know I would be there more often were it not for that. But for today…”

His lips gently met her forehead.

“Your plan sounds wonderful. I will still be a gentleman enough to ask that you tell me what you wish to do, but I personally would like to take you out to the balcony, and slowly remove every last thing you are wearing, let the breeze from the river caress your skin, and kiss every...single...inch...of you.”

He trailed a line of kisses down to and along her ear.

“But I am open to other ideas…”

Aila smooths the length of his long black braid until they find the cord holding it together, and tugs it free “My idea was not quite that exciting” His suggestion has brought a flush to her cheeks, where she had been comfortably stitching before his arrival the room seems markedly warmer in his presence. Slender fingers intertwined with a silky black braid and she combes it out gently, coaxing him to continue his tantalizing kisses as long as he liked. “I did a bit of my style of diplomacy” Threats “And arranged a bit of a date...but it won’t matter if we are late.” She had arrived in Bescanon with no expectations, just happy to be near him for a meal or a drink, but how could she ever refuse an offer like his? Aila has stopped brushing her fingers through his hair in favor of grabbing his hands again, leaving the way to the balcony assuring him “We should have time for both!”

He smiled as he followed, bringing one hand to his lips to start his work from her fingertips.

“Then allow me to begin…”

---

He planted one last, egregiously loud, kiss on the back of her left elbow.

“There! My word is my bond, no matter how many distractions you tempt me with! And with a few inches covered more than once, and a couple of particular inches covered, mmm, quite a few times...But...I believe the wind is now causing more than just delightfully prickled gooseflesh, and I believe someone had mentioned a date…”

The arm and leg he had wrapped around her on the hastily arranged cushions and blanket showed no particular signs of wanting to let go.

He did it, he really did it.

The breeze is no bother to her, the coolness is a fine feeling on her skin and the sounds of bird softly chirping upon their return to their nests in the gardens below them for the night is a music in it’s own right. Why did he have to speak?

The mention of the date causes her to sit upright straight out of his arms, eyes searching for a sun to judge the time by and finding it was nearly gone behind the horizon beyond them. She slaps her forehead “Oh, I forgot.” and gets up quickly leaving him there on the tangled blankets alone. “I shut down the Bescan Inn for the evening, the owners are already quite angry if we don’t show up at all we shall never be able to eat there again without fear of poison”

The elegant summer dress had been left near the seat she had been stitching in, and after some adjustments she slid it over her head deftly tying the sash that held it all together.

He laughed, as he rose and began redressing.

“The entire Inn, hm? Well, if I can convince farmers in Mulhouse about an alliance, I think I can convince my own people not to poison us. Besides…”

He nipped her ear while reattaching his cape.

“It was worth it. Now, shall we summon someone to make us a little more presentable, or shall we go as we are and have everyone know precisely what we were up to? I don’t mind bragging on occasion, but the choice is yours.”

Aila’s eyes alight with mischief at the idea of arriving at a venue as they were. A half turn to stare into a looking glass causes her to laugh outright, hair usually so carefully brushed out looking like spun gold was mussed and tousled. “Very funny” she replied finally, approaching the small table where her things had been laid out by the staff and began combing out her hair “You summon them, they are all afraid of me….”

---

When they finally arrived at the inn the reception was as welcoming as if they hadn’t come two hours after the agreed time. A full staff to attend them, and no one but each other to admire their fine evening wear as they climbed the sturdy wooden stairs to the main entrance of the historic inn. Inside, where dozens of table settings were supposed to be, was just one instead. At the back of the large main room where the doors to a garden had been left open to let the breeze perfumed with the scent of flowers and sweet pollen pass by.

There are only candles to light their table flickering in the evening air, the room is dim and they are alone for the moment while their servers ready drinks in another room. Aila leads the way to their seats looking around in that particular way she always did, wanting to find something to complain about but finding nothing- not even a spoon out of place as she inspected the table. Seeing that the staff has actually performed up to her standard, Aila turns to Kenneth, hoping to see him as impressed as she was.

Kenneth did not have to manufacture his broad smile.

“This is quite something. I don’t know how you arranged it, I never would have thought the place could look…”

He shook his head, laughing softly.

“I shouldn’t be surprised. My lady?”

He moved to smoothly hold her chair out for his companion.

“You should not” Aila agrees, smiling in thanks over her shoulder as she takes the seat offered so politely. “To be given special consideration is no less than you deserve.” As she speaks, two men approach, one holding two bottles stops by Aila first, he is sporting an impressive moustache which she cannot help but gawk at before indicating which of the two offerings she would prefer. The first man hands the bottle to the second and retreats with the reject while the chosen bottle is opened and poured expertly. The Duchess who requested the most formal of service looks as if she were watching a fabulous play instead of just boring fabulous manners.

With the drinks poured they are left alone again, she informs Kenneth quietly “I asked to be left alone aside from service and a bard- if you fancy one”. The lavish offer is made with little more than a shrug as she tastes the wine she selected without his opinion, confident in her choices as always. “I thought we could talk about some things, things we do not usually have time to talk about.”

His smile grew, taking in the elaborate dance of service around them.

“A bard, a performance, conversation with a witty companion…”

He shook his head again, his voice becoming small.

“I...cannot recall anyone doing anything like this for me, not since coming to the East. It...feels very nice, someone caring enough to do so. Thank you.”

He lifted his glass towards her, his voice returning to something closer to his normal cheer.

“It is a virtue for a man to know when to follow, and clearly tonight is one of those times. Let us have the bard, and whatever topic of conversation you wish.”

“I told you, you deserve no less.” she assures Kenneth, reaching out to hold his hand across the table as they waited for their first of many courses.

There is a glee about her as he accepts the bard entry, a man who had been waiting far too long to perform arrives dressed in uncomfortably formal clothes and a plume on his hat that would bring a smile to the face of Lucius Poe himself. He arrives with their first course, a fussy little plate of cured pork candied in maple, curled around some roasted tomatoes. It is an odd thing and it shows on Aila’s face as it is put in front of her. The server lingers wanting to ask how to help but after being so severely instructed not to speak to either of them flees to let her try the dish in peace. In contrast, the bard looks unbothered as he sits up onto a stool in the center of the huge main room, far enough from the two diners not to be looking over their shoulder or listening into their conversation.

He begins to sing without cue, a luscious and feathery voice accompanied by skilled fingers plucking at a lute on his lap. His tunes originated in Caligus, so sickly sweet and revoltingly romantic that only Aila could select them.

“This chef, in this inn...I have heard him touted in my City do you know he -refuses- to come to my kitchens?” She raises her eyebrows at Kenneth “Such is his love of the region. Now this!” She indicates the tomato and sweet bacon arrangement. As she is explaining the reason for their coming to this particular inn instead of using his own cooks she has used a knife to slash open the alluringly tender tomato and puts a very ladylike portion on a spoon to try. As if the chef knew Aila personally, a dash of sweetness made all the difference. “It is good” She informs him, as if she had assumed he were half as worried as her about eating something new. “Now,” the sense of relief after she tasted the odd dish is clear in her posture as she lets her shoulders relax “I thought to do all of this after the hunt. We work together, write letters about work, write letters about missing each other and then when we are together well- there is so little time to talk” A fond smile plays on Aila’s lips as she explains all of this. “I know woefully little about you, and I want to know it all. Where did you grow up, what are you parents like, how many siblings have you got -I don’t know any of it precisely just, Dwilight- And you’ve got a sister. I just want to know more, of course I would return the favor.”

He looked at the dish with interest, tasting it after her pronouncement.

“Quite interesting, yes...I have not tried this before, I wonder why. And I cannot blame the chef, the people here are quite proud of not being in the city proper. I suppose you will just have to visit more often to enjoy his work.”

He grinned, then paused a moment with a sip of wine to enjoy the music.

“I wonder if he knows Greensleeves...In any case, your plan is well-thought. I can certainly begin, though I will be interested in your answers as well. For me...I was born and raised in Farrowfield. The MacArbins descend from a morganatic relationship between my grandmother and Koli Bedwyr, King and Prophet in Pian en Luries a few generations ago. When the colony effort began, my grandmother and a number of other former believers in the faith he founded made their way west, as the Manifest Path was evidently not held in high opinion by that time. My parents are...Parents, I suppose. Mother became quite ill after Deirdre was born, and father spent most of his time attending to her. It wasn’t much of a lack, to be honest, Grandmother ruled as all quite firmly in any case. Up until her death, that is.”

He looked contemplative.

“That...Is likely when it began to go wrong. My mother had two siblings, and my cousins Aidan and Saoirse might as well have been siblings. Aidan’s mother was the oldest, but both his parents had been killed in a particularly vile incursion during one of the wars, so when Grandmother passed, he became the head of the family. It had been expected for some time, and he always took everything so seriously. Grandmother had wanted to see us rise, to live up to the Bedwyr name…And we have, at that.”

“So, Aidan the serious and scholarly, Saoirse the fiery fighter, and myself, the jocular jester. There are various other cousins, of course; Gregor got himself killed on the South Island, after taking over the Rulership of some hole called ‘Ikalak’, though what idiots gave him a crown I couldn’t guess. Lennox took up the banner there, later. But my only actual sibling is Deirdre. Six years the younger.”

He took a swallow of wine, a bit of food.

“She was mine, in many ways. Mother ill, father tending her, Grandmother busy with many cares, aunts and uncles tending their own broods. And I was fascinated with her from the first. I would sit by mother and sing songs to the slowly growing bump, try to play games with her when she started to kick, I thought it was the best thing ever. And it didn’t stop when she was born. I would carry her around with me, to lessons and everything, and the tutors soon learned that it wasn’t worth the vicious pranks I would pull if we were separated. We played games together, I would recite lessons to her...I loved her dearly, and she me. Everyone else saw me as, at best, an amusing rogue. She saw me as her brother-knight in shining armour. Chasing away the dragons until I could teach her how to fight them.”

His lips quirked.

“The rest you know, I believe. The family needed coin, for the type of tutoring and training high noble scions had to have. A wealthy lordling wanted a bride with high blood, regardless of how young she was, how fragile...And while I was able to purchase an extension on the betrothal, I had to leave one step ahead of exile. And so I came here, looking for the titles and fortune and allies to free her. I have enough now, I think, but I only get one chance at this, and the stakes are...High.”

He waved a hand out wide.

“No one else understood her, you see. This lordling certainly doesn’t, and most of the family does not either. Half the time I was the only one who could, for whatever reason. I still feel like I am missing my left hand, not having her there when I turn the corner.”

A snort suddenly escaped him.

“Ah, but you did not arrange all this for me to be maudlin. Your turn, I believe, what of your kin and raising?”

She could listen to him speak all day long, the shift in his expression the change in his demeanor as he went into detail about his sister. Aila’s dinner is neglected, there is a tightness in her throat as she considers his words at full value. She had known the overarching idea of what the issue had been, but nothing like this. The first thing out of her mouth was “Greensleeves!” Directed at the man on the stool who stopped his song midway and began a rendition of greensleeves without missing a beat.

Fanning her eyes to avoid empathetic tears she presses on with the conversation “You are not a jester and whoever told you so is wrong. Even if it is yourself, you are wrong. Descended from Kings, understanding to a fault- and absolute fault” She tries not to feel vulnerable by how he had made her heart ache- it was his story after all but it had meant more than he could know, simply that he shared it so freely. “I always wished I had a sister” she admits with an embarrassed laugh “an older one though, one to teach me things and protect -” she pauses, a frown threatening to force its way into their perfect evening as she considers it all.

“I do not know what you are but you are not a fool” she concludes, finally remembering the meal before them, avoiding the tomato now in favor of the sweet pork. “Nor are you a maudlin, goodness Kenneth…” her tone is scolding, she does not like this self deprecating side of him. “You do know most of my story in truth, I grew up an only child in Perdan- raised by my father, schooled in the city, enduring the sieges and the battles of King Asher’s reign” He does know all of this, everyone does...Her history is the same as a whole generation of Perdanese. “A charmed childhood despite it thanks to my Lord Father” She pauses and corrects herself in the name of authenticity “My Da. Canas Storme, second Son.”

She flashes him the meekest smile a Lady like herself could muster, expecting him to laugh at her. “I suppose the part that is not public knowledge is that my mother did everything she could to undermine that. She would come and demand, scream, rave, call authorities, insisting that I go live with her away from the fighting- and take a fat sack of gold instead of me every time.” A sad story, but Aila just smiles “She sold everything he had, we had, the day after he dropped dead. I wonder if she regrets it now. I would not know.” her smile turns to a laugh, she is far beyond crying about her own problems clearly. “The rest are dead to me and I hope to make that a reality AFTER you save your sweet sister...I won’t forget that. Conveniently… My retainers tell me the pretender Storme has taken up Lordship in what very region but FARROWFIELD~ how interesting.”

Aila sits back in her seat, reflecting on it all with him.

Kenneth smiled at her fierce defense of him.

“I am not a fool. That I was a fool is rather beyond doubt, however.”

His brows drew down at her story.

“If that was your mother, I can understand wanting an older sister. My parents were neglectful, often, but they were not cruel, not like that. You had no aunts, or cousins, to guide you through these things? Is that why the rest of your family is dead to you? I have my difficulties with mine, especially when most went along with selling my sister like a prize heifer, but…”

He shook his head.

“If they abandoned you like that, I can hardly blame you. It’s not easy for a girl growing up alone. I had to sweet talk Saoirse a few times to help Deirdre with things I didn’t understand, but only a little, and we had aunts and such to help sometimes.”

“I was not alone” She corrects him gently, putting her spoon across her plate politely signifying that she was done, though not even half had been eaten. “I had my father. He was from Dwilight, like you and showed me great care, an uncommon amount for a man.” Aila sits up as she mentions it unsure if she had ever mentioned it to him before. “A real Storme with keen green eyes and dark lusterless hair, tall and broad but never had the stomach for war…” A pause, and wry smile as she admits “I take after my mother in looks.”

A long sip from her glass serves to give her time to consider her next words, authenticity She reminds herself. Hiding all of this had become a habit for her, it is an uncomfortable situation. “All of this is very embarrassing, so I do not speak on it often.

I have an uncle, a horrid man stripped of his titles by my grandfather but touting our name all the same in Beluaterra. Now the Bastard he had which started all the issues has taken up home in Farrowfield, usurped my title as householder and the rest of the family has rallied around her” There is bitterness in her voice, more than Kenneth would know from her in the past- normally she can hide how much things bother her, and now is no exception. If she showed her true feelings about it all, she would surely be crying instead.

“They say it’s a mercy! They say my cousin is as tall as a man and swings a sword twice as long as I am tall. A true Storme” Those words had cut her most, delivered by her own great-grandmother. “Gods help them all when I finally get there, and I will. Alone or with you I will.”

The Duchess falls silent- a brooding look on her face as they are served. “Sorry” she mutters over the lip of her wine glass, before drinking again.

He waved her apology off.

“No need for that. Why in the name of the Oceanic Court would they think that height or swinging a sword qualified someone to be the head of the house? And of course you have my support, that seems like madness indeed. If the MacArbins judged things that way, cousin Gregor would have been the head of the house, and that-”

He shuddered a moment.

“Really doesn’t bear thinking on. I was planning on bringing an army in any case, it would be shame to sail them all that way and not use them.”

He paused a moment, gauging her.

Aila is sitting across from him lost in vengeful thought as the word army comes up, she had never met Svari before but the idea of beating her with power rather than prowess did have its appeal, as usual Kenneth was most sensible. So what if she was an archer, not tall like a man not strong as a monster enraged- She is the Duchess of Perdan! That pretender should never have bothered trying to challenge…

“Do you...Do you know why it is that I appreciate you, Aila?”

Her glance flickered from the bard who got every dagger meant for Svari to Kenneth the instant he spoke. Her face softens as their eyes meet, and she looks concerned about the dark cloud she had summoned around their dining table. It is not the most thoughtful of responses, but in her usual style it is blunt regardless of anyone's feelings including her own “It is because I am so beautiful.”

Kenneth shook his head.

“No, it is not. I certainly enjoy your beauty, who would not? But as you just said, I am no fool. There are many beautiful women in my acquaintance, after all.”

He catches her gaze, holding her with his eyes.

“It is because you care, and you do not let anything stand in your way. You heard what had happened to me, and you summoned me and would not let me go until I spoke. You arrange all this for me, you just ordered the bard to play Greensleeves mid-song for me. Do you have any idea how rare that is, for me?”

He waved in the direction the sea used to be, from here.

“I took care of my sister. I played peacemaker between my cousins. I am the agreeable diplomat, the one who smiles through slights. The whole reason I have sought power has been for someone else. Even with Dustiria...She...Had a particular image that I tried to live up to.”

Kenneth reached out, taking her hand, heedless of the food.

“You pushed through all of those careful facades. You find out what I want and need, and then make it happen when I would just smile and focus on someone else. That...Means a great deal, to me.”

His words are met with silence, he couldn’t know how much suggesting her looks were not her main appeal meant to her. The old dishes are replaced with their next course and Aila stays cautiously quiet, still clutching onto his hand as pewter clatters around them until once again they are left alone. She feels badly for him, but does not want it to show on her face and risk upsetting him. Instead, she formulates a response while inspecting the dish. Just as delicately presented as the last, it is a generous serving of freshly caught salmon -the first of the summer for Aila. Seasoned with green herbs and wrapped in a buttery pastry that had been baked to a brown crisp it looks better than the first course by miles. She feels she does not have to confirm to him that this one will be good, and reflects on how nicely her dinner plans are turning out despite them arriving so late.

Finally she addresses the issues playing on their minds, starting off with a scoff. “Feh, I cannot help but feel cross about it all. You assume when someone is with another that they are cared for.” She is wrestling with herself, not wishing to linger on the subject but still genuinely angry.

“When Alyssa became Queen I tracked down Isana and lectured her long about what she could do to lighten the burden as a partner. I believe in what I said to her then firmly, now years later. For people like us..” What sort of people? Kenneth was probably eloquent enough to figure that out himself “to find someone who wants nothing is the rarest blessing. Rare enough to make a King endure a” she finally returns to smiling as she thinks of herself as a nineteen-yearold “Bossy, big mouth, rude girl.” She laughs now, her mood now lightened by the good food and fonder memories. “But I never asked him for anything. Now that I am the Duchess in truth with the lands, and the incomes, the power...All I was missing was someone who did not want anything.

That same day I told Isana if I ever found anything like what I had before I would not hesitate. Now that I have you I do not ever want to let go. Not just because you are my equal, but because I feel we will take care of eachother. You already do more for me than a silly dinner can repay so I hope I have many opportunities to tell you again and again until you are forced to believe… You are very welcome BUT it is no less than you deserve!” the third time she had said it that night, and she meant it.

He brought her hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle in conscious repetition of earlier that evening.

“Then we can both feel grateful for each other, my lady.”

With an effort, he turned toward the food, looking it over with obvious approval, and an equally obvious need to regroup from the raw emotions they had been sharing.

“Now, this looks fascinating. I do have a weakness for pastry, I will admit. And freshwater fish are still a delight to me, we always had saltwater fish growing up and the differences are quite intriguing.”

His mention of saltwater fish reminds her starkly of something from her past and she asks him suddenly "Tell me about your home in Dwilight". She is looking for a lighter topic too, and hearing stories about the strange things on the other continents remained a long-standing interest of hers.

"You know so much about my home, that I grew up by a seaside too for example... and I have not been to Dwilight in many years. Even then I only saw some Northern regions. It felt like a different world as a child, but now I barely remember Stormeholde at all"

The real Stormeholde, far from Farrowfield. Faded memories of high stone walls and scowling old relatives were all that remained to her of that visit. It had been a funeral for her grandfather; a man no one seemed to like, but still went to great trouble to see buried. Looking back, she wondered if many of them were mourning at all.

"I will make it easy what did you do for fun?"

Kenneth closed his eyes a moment, enjoying a bite of the meal.

“Mmm, that is delightful...Well, besides getting into some sort of trouble with every girl I could sweet-talk, we did quite a bit of sailing. The Farrowlands are a major trading hub, and there were boats and ships of all sizes all along. We had our own little dock, and we would often spend the day sailing along the coast, looking for interesting little coves, enjoying the sun and the sea, proving ourselves in ridiculous contests like seeing who could sail the furthest into a tempest…”

He gave a wicked grin.

“And, of course, that allowed us to get into all sorts of mischief away from prying eyes. Saoirse and I arranged a truly outrageous party one time, gathering every young noble in the whole duchy, just about, and to get into the party proper you had to choose: Strip to your undergarments, or convince someone else to strip naked. The ‘convincing’ was quite something, and that was just to get in to the party…”

Seeing Kenneth enjoy the meal was an important thing to her, the girl who spent her life arranging events for people who could care less about her efforts. He was so grateful, to a point where she felt hot and affronted with the thought that he had never enjoyed such effort before. His stories too were a treat for her, near as special as knowing he was enjoying himself- not just because they revealed the sort of childhood he had-one with the freedom to sail and adventure.... Really adventure!

Aila is no prude but the thought of young nobles all gathering together, scantily clad or nude- for what she could not imagine. In Perdan parties like that did not happen- or at least she was not invited to them, and in Aila’s mind she is invited to every party. “My father would have locked me in a tower” she finally comments “I admit the side of me that you- Crashed into in Meuse is a new one.” a shy smile appears. “Before that, the most salacious thing I had done is--! AH nevermind! Nothing as deviant as a nude party, anyway” she busies herself with trying the dish at last, she likes it but is more worried about the amount of wine she had been unwittingly drinking to let something like that slip during a date.

“At any rate, it seems like where you are from in Dwilight was quite a -free- place to grow compared to Perdan”

He nodded, face hard to read.

“Yes, we had freedom. And we made excellent use of it! That party was the highlight, but there were plenty of other opportunities for trysts, and sometimes just the freedom to find a beautiful beach on a sunny day. But...Some of my cousins did not make it, you know. At least one of them we found again, a revenant attacking from the remains of her old skiff. I wouldn’t have traded that freedom for the world, but...I was one of the ones who made it.”

His grin reappeared.

“But! You cannot let something like that slip without telling me more! I will make you a deal, you tell me your most salacious story, and I will tell you what we did in that party.”

Her comment brought a darkness to his features, why was it that all she said seemed to bring him pain? As if by reflex she reaches out to him, free hand clutching his. He goes on, cheering himself he assumed for her benefit to try and coax a story from her.

Blushing at once, Aila shakes her head no, sputtering about how it was so long ago and did not matter anymore. But if it did not matter why not tell him? And what's more… whatever happened in that party was surely more of a scandal. Her glance fixes on the bard across the room, humming, singing and strumming in his own little world. In a hushed voice Aila admits "I have always been a bit of a snoop, I like to see all there is to see before I am shown to it. To see what people leave lying in wait when they think no one will look. That's why when I found a stableboy picking a lock into his master's quarters I ...asked him how he did it."

Nothing near salacious yet "I let a stable boy slide his hand down the front of my frock in exchange for teaching me" she giggled, never having told a soul that story but still always wondering how many people that stableboy told about their encounter, especially after becoming Duchess. "A commoner" she laughs at herself but is quite nervous to see his reaction. "I still can't believe I did it but..life skills are life skills."

Kenneth’s eyes widened...As did his grin.

“My, my, my...How delightfully subversive of you! No one would believe him, of course, but still, that would have been quite the coup. I wonder where he is these days...That brings a rather wicked idea to mind, mmm...But, before that, a promise is a promise!”

He paused for another bite, reliving a few of the more memorable moments.

“Saoirse and I had the idea together, really, after one of her dockside escapades. She always had a thing for sailors, you see, those from far away at least. She had been telling me some ridiculous yarn one of them had spun, trying to impress her the evening before, involving pirates ravishing a coastline that he had valiantly held back, or so he claimed...And we thought that might make a fantastic party theme.”

He leaned back, gesturing along with the tale.

“So, I traded a few favours and spent my silvers for a few weeks gathering a number of old scimitars. Raggedy things, really, would have fallen apart in a real fight in a minute, but that was fine. The rules were simple: The ‘pirates’ would rush in from the darkness beyond our campfires, and launch their assault. The ‘militia’ would defend, and it was usual training match rules. First clean touch meant stripping outer garments if you had been convincing enough to still have them, second was undergarments, and third was, well...Ravishing.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled with the last word.

“Saoirse and I still had our full kits, of course, and I let her down the better fighters for me, having my eye on a some crush or another at the time. Last I saw of her she had run up a makeshift leash of seaweed around two strapping lads, with a friend of hers pushing a couple others along with her ridiculous pirate boots. I lost, eventually, and who was ravishing whom became rather academic after a time...”

Kenneth’s grin makes her cover her eyes shyly and when she peeks up he is reclined in his seat recalling a tale from his past. He is a beautiful man, but his words are those of a deviant, and even after being so intimate with each other she still has a difficult time imagining her mannerly, temperate Kenneth at such a party. When he finishes his story Aila is blushing, from embarrassment or something else; not even she is sure anymore.

She has nothing to match with that -not even close so she just has to sit there with her own imagination to go off, eventually she submits deadly seriously “I’ll be bringing this to the event planning committee” before finally revealing her smile. “It would be fun just to see the five page letter from Alyssa... ” She is about to muse about what that letter might entail but pauses to gauge him, putting her fork over her half-finished plate much like she did with the last course.

Kenneth laughed out loud at that, before turning his voice to an exaggerated parody of Alyssa’s tones.

“Council, it has come to my attention that the latest event planned by our Ambassadors has more than a hint of deviance to it…”

He chuckled again, before finishing the last bite of his dish and returning to his usual voice, with merry eyes.

“That would be a sight to treasure, ah...But now that I have fulfilled my word, there is something I am curious about...When pressed on the most salacious thing you have done, and I know you have done one or two salacious things, a duke and his knight in the same fortnight even, you returned to that. Now, tell me true, my lady...Aside from getting the skills you wanted, how did you feel when that stableboy enjoyed the fruit of his labours? Because I have a guess, and I wish to see how close to the mark I am.”

His impression of Alyssa leaves her breathless with laughter, never having expected it to come from him. The playful mood leaves her as he switches the subject to a Duke, and his knight in a fortnight. It is jarring to hear him say it out loud, the thing they had both known but never mentioned- and for a moment she looks as if she expects to be scolded.

Instead no scolding comes and she is left with his true question, a memory she had not lingered on for many years. Those merry eyes, his charming smile, the wine had done it’s work on Kenneth she realized then and instead of worrying about the trap she was about to step into, she jumped right in. “It was the summer” Aila began, taking him through that memory with her. “I was to go out riding with friends from the academy and I was late.”

Aila’s gaze flicks away from him, leering instead at the servers as they peek into the room, she waves them over and unlike last time continues while they are there. Their glasses are filled with sweet wine to pair with the next course as she continues, paying no attention to anyone serving them. “I am often late, and was then too. So I went to the stables alone to find a horse and what did I see but a sweaty apprentice tampering with his master's office door. Well I waited for him to open it, then scared him senseless.”

As she said this, the next course is put in front of them. It is a pretty crystal bowl chosen to show the many layers in the course. Custard, cake, fruit, and on top a dollop of cream brought up to par visually by two biscuits decorated with gold leaf painstakingly cut into the figures of Lions. When they are alone again she goes on, as if the fine dessert were nothing at all “I shouted “Theif!” into the empty stable and he jumped startled. I was only fourteen. I had never made anyone do that before. He was older than me too, sixteen or more maybe. I demanded his name.“ Aila scoffs. “That was when I knew he was /just/ startled and not scared. He told me to get lost, said that if I told anyone he would deny it and say I tried to take the head masters destrier- slammed the door shut, glowered at me. I said… “Teach me how to do that or I will have you strung up! He laughed at me...Said if a noble wants to learn commoner secrets then a commoner must learn a nobles secret too. I whined…

But I haven't got any!”

She pauses, a curious smile playing on her lips as she wonders momentarily if he would think less of her- but then she remembers his party. “He said, you’ve got two right there. So we made the deal. And now I can unlock most simple doors and he has a story for his grandchildren” she drinks the sweet wine faster than it is intended to be. “But your question was how it made me feel. Before I answer. Did your guess change now that you have the full story?”

He sat grinning still, watching her closely, ignoring the magnificent dessert entirely for a sweeter treat. The additional context was fascinating, on several levels, and he could see exactly how the situation played out. And, having been a young man once, had a fair guess as to what had been going through the boy’s heads as well.

“No...No, I do not believe my guess has changed. I think I will stand behind my instinct.”

He waved for her to continue, not even noticing how perilously close he came to spilling his wine.

Aila smiles amusedly- but still very kindly at him now, finding his manner very endearing in that moment. It was a good thing they had met up at his estate before this, otherwise the servants might have gotten more than they bargained for about now. She remembers then that she is meant to be thinking back on that common boy, not her handsome Duke.

“I liked it, but was far too ignorant to know what to do about it. I got what I wanted but not the way I wanted it. I suppose I felt...Outdone. Subdued.” The admission comes with an unexpected nervousness. What if it is not what Kenneth wants to hear?

Kenneth’s grin sharpened.

“I see, I see...Subdued, liked it but too ignorant to know what to do about it, and outdone. My dear Aila, my guess then is this: That while you push and prod and dominate the situation and are always publicly in command, but on a certain level, you enjoy when someone plays on your level, even outdoes you, as you put it. Having a commoner do it was such a reversal that it leapt to mind, of course, but that is my guess. And I think it would be fascinating to put that to the test.”

He finally reached for his sweet wine, taking a slow sip, continuing to watch her closely.

Her reaction is one of skepticism, clutching her dessert spoon in one hand as she plucks out one of the biscuits and mulls it all over. “Do you blame me.” it is not really a question “When I walk into a room everyone turns white, starts swallowing their own tongues, tripping over their feet, nodding at anything I say. It’s revolting.”

She speaks as if she is disgusted, but tastes a spoonful of cream finding no less enjoyment in it “How would you ever put such a thing to a test?” Aila asks casually, but inside her heart is aflutter with nerves as she meets his eyes in search of an answer.

His eyes smouldered, and he held her gaze while drawing the moment out, enjoying the fruit and custard before responding.

“Well...We already have, in a way, that first time in Meuse. But...To further the experiment...I think we need to learn what parts you enjoy, exactly. Do you enjoy having someone who knows what you truly want, and ensures that you are taken accordingly? Would you rather it be a contest, whether physical or a battle of wits, with the victor holding mastery for a time? Perhaps a duality, with a partner who is agreeable in public, and domineering in private?”

Kenneth kept watching, gauging her reaction to each proposal as his grin grew more hungry. Meanwhile Aila looked across at him with those keen hazel eyes never flinching, yet as he mentions a duality she softens, and glances down at her dessert.

“Plenty to occupy us for some time, I think. And I will say that while this crystal bowl is lovely, I think dessert would be far better served upon your-”

He gave a low, throaty chuckle.

“Secrets.”

It seemed now that the servants would get more than they bargained for afterall. There is not a moment of hesitation from the moment Kenneth says the word secret to the one Aila stands from her place and rounds the table to him. She places a hand on his forearm and coaxes him up with her “If there is any way to improve the dish the chef will want to know, and there is just one way to find out” Aila declares with faux nobility.

As she continues on opening a hallway door it reveals a few startled faces which turn to confusion at the sight of the dessert dish in her and. They are rightfully ignored,she leads the way upstairs to any room they like, because she had paid for them all.

North by Northwest

Early that morning, a retainer in blue and gold approaches Gideon. She looks tired, hair windswept and face reddened, but she was grinning still.

"Begging yer pardon, Master Gideon, but the Duke is approaching, and was wonderin' if a surprise visit might be well-received, or if he should announce himself aforetime. Figured you'd be the right one to ask, depending on Her Grace's mood today. And if a surprise would be good, then where might he find her in about an hour?"

"Master Gideon!" He likes that, there is a big white toothed grin for the breathless girl before he stands straight with a thoughtful look appearing on his face as he considers what Aila is up to that day. "Hmm.." Aila had gotten home from hunting and left to go straight for the crypts with a big armful of flowers for her father, something she did only about once a week but that often drained her for obvious reasons. "When she is done with her family she usually goes right to court" he thinks aloud, and suddenly a grin to match the girls appears "Aha! I will cancel her court, if we let her think she's got a boring afternoon of work ahead- she will probably do a jig when she discovers it's been replaced with a" he chooses his words carefully in case this girl was not as 'in the know' as himself "meeting with a peer".

He sends the girl away but thinks better of it, turning to join her on the way back to Kenneth- Aila would be gone for an hour at least anyway- Plenty of time to see the girl back and cancel the courts. "Are you Duke Kenneth's retainer? You never said your name" He asks casually, without much care for if she wanted his accompaniment or not; he had a mind to see this man up close for once.

“Oh, I’m Tabitha, Master Gideon.”

She gave an abbreviated curtsey as she strode.

“And aye, been serving the Duke for a time now, since he was the Earl. Came of age right as the great war was endin’, wanted to see a bit more of the world, and he takes care of his own. Two suits a year, snug place to sleep whether we’re at home or no, table’s better than anything my parents had, and half a silver a week free and clear.”

She paused a moment, and her already red face got a little redder.

“And the two silvers a week for extra service doesn’t hurt any either.”

Gideon stops at that, falling behind the girl as she implies something that to Gideon was rather salacious about her own Duke. He jogs to catch back up, sputtering slightly as he asks “Extra services?” Incredulously. The blush on her cheeks says more than words ever could, he can feel his heart begin to race with the infusion of protective rage. “What do you mean extra services you can’t possibly be implying that the Duke pays extra for- For-”

He looks away from little Tabitha, straight down the hall to where they are going. NOW he really wants to see Kenneth in person, and give him a good, hard judge up and down. Aila had been through enough over the years with men, after the hunt in particular Gideon had been very pleased with how the Duke treated his mistress- but this… Aila would be hearing about this.

He wants to shake Tabitha and tell her that she shouldn’t be going along with it either but instead he stays silent, for a long moment trying to think through his growing rage to ask this girl the right questions. “Does he make the offer to every girl in his employ?” He tries to ask curiously, but there is a tightness in his jaw a blind man would see.

Tabitha looked warily over at the man, his tension clear but the exact cause of it not.

“Most of us, aye. He’s more fussed about getting good people than pretty, from what I see. And it’s an offer, and some refuse and he just nods and that’s that. And if you change your mind later, he just takes the extra silvers off the pay and moves on.”

She looked briefly lost in thought.

“Pretty serious about that, too. Found out the houndmaster was putting pressure on some of his lasses to agree, trying to keep the lord happy and all, and at court the next morning he had the man’s tongue cut out and exiled him from the duchy. Made an impression that did.”

A dog with a code of honour is still a dog, Gideon thinks bitterly. How on earth would he ever break this to Aila, the proper Perdanese Lady with her high expectations and perfect manners, who had only ever known the realm she knows now. The more he thinks about it the angrier and angrier he gets, the more he is unintentionally cold shouldering the young girl beside him in favor of fantasizing about greeting the Duke with a fist to his nose.

He thinks of Svari briefly. If it had been her there would be no issue, she could handle a sword better than him even when he left; and had plenty of experience in the business of paid-for favors, she would probably even expect it from a Duke... but not Aila...Not his little Aila! She would be crushed, probably cry for a fortnight and marry that insufferable Laststar brat as a last resort.

Gideon is red in the face by the time he looks back to Tabitha, pretty, like Aila, young, like Aila, the urge to pick her up and carry her away in an inexplicable rise in protectiveness is building by the moment. “Duchess Aila can pay you more than he ever could. Favors or not.” Gideon submits, looking away from her again with a look that might strike Kenneth down should he catch it.

Tabitha walked a bit faster, pulling her red hair back out of her face, wanting to get back to the Duke and worrying that she’d said something that would cause trouble later.

“Always happy to talk about a better opportunity, Master Gideon, but...Why would she? And might be better to talk later, there’s His Grace now, have to make my report.”

She sped up again, not quite running, and waving in a way she hoped the Duke would realize meant a situation incoming. His eyebrow rose, and he gave a brief nod, eyes moving between Tabitha and Gideon.

“Ah, Gideon, I wasn’t expecting you to come personally. Is my timing poor?”

Perhaps he had come in a little too hot, ending up nearly nose to nose with the Duke on his approach that came so furiously that the palace guards around them had even gotten a start, and begun to wander close.

He catches himself, and settles back with a look of rancor instead, breathing through his nose, arms crossed in an agitated stance as he composes himself in front of what he now considered to be a dishonest pervert. “I’m afraid so” Gideon eventually hisses out, having already forgotten what he had planned with Tabitha initially. Aila’s retainer is missing the usually painfully good manners and has replaced them with a booming voice “The Duchess is busy with family!”

One look at the girl beside him told him he was not going to get away with lying, he settles himself and answers more quietly “...Going to be an hour.”

Both eyebrows on Kenneth’s face rose this time, and with a glance he signalled to Tabitha that she could move behind him and give her report later. Two fingers signalled the guards that they should return to their posts, and then he focused his full attention on Gideon.

“It seems something is amiss. Shall we continue this discussion in front of all and sundry, or in private? And I am not such a fool that I am going to ignore whatever has you so enraged that you have forgotten your manners, with a Duke, in public. So please, do not do me the disservice of pretending this is not something that needs resolving.”

It is as if Kenneth’s calm words waken Gideon from some drunken stupor, drunk on his own rage perhaps, he finally looks around to see what a scene he had caused. He had let his emotions get away from him and thought bitterly about how many of the highest members of Perdan’s structure were so young. They were all half his age and with seemingly infinite power, infinite ability to shut him up.

The bitterness in his voice bubbles away from his surface and he musters up enough strength to meet the Duke’s frustratingly cool gaze with a nod. “I’ll show you to an audience chamber your Grace” Gideon says, piecing his manners back together feebly before showing the way to a small office adjacent to Aila's own courtroom. It has a telltale arrangement of fresh flowers beside dishes of candies that implies this room is not usually meant for anyone other than Aila.

When the door clicks shut alone Gideon resumes his almost petulant arm folded stance, as if it helped combat the fact that the man half his age and dressed in robes trumped him in almost every other arena. He is used to dealing with a Duchess with the will of a Queen and opens strongly with “Tabitha told me what you’re doing with her; you are caught. No amount of silver can buy my silence.”

Kenneth blinked in obvious confusion. He had little idea what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this.

“I want to be clear before I say this that I am not intending to play any games, but I honestly and legitimately have not the slightest idea what you are referring to. I am mildly insulted that you think so little of my wits that I would try to buy your silence, however. I know an old family retainer when I see one.”

He was clearly the Ambassador now, more than the Duke, gesturing for a negotiating partner to continue.

Out comes a finger, and a show of the accent they both shared when they had mind to as Gideon takes a daring step toward his better, warning him “-Don’t- try and play dumb with me”.

He makes no threats aside from the ones with his eyes, burning with accusation “Two silver, for extra services, extended to all the attractive girls” he is almost shaking as he considers all of it. “A redhead, too. And you brought her to the palace.” You’re sick. He swallows the insult and replaces it with “Cruel.”

Kenneth’s face was closed, betraying nothing of his feelings while he listened and evaluated.

“Gideon. I like to think of myself as a reasonably tolerant and forgiving man, and I am willing to extend considerable latitude to you in Aila’s name. And as it is possible that you are not aware of certain pertinent facts, I will elaborate on them. The first of which, however, is this. The last person who accused me of nefarious and dishonourable actions regarding a Lady was Alyssa. I challenged her, publicly, to recant or face me in a duel over the matter.”

He gestured tersely to his robes.

“I am no swordsman, and she is accounted one of the best in the continent with a blade. I would have lost, assuredly. But while I am usually one to let insults slide off me, as a diplomat must, I find these insinuations offensive enough that I make an exception.”

His eyes grew hot, holding Gideon’s.

“So have a care.”

The Ambassador’s eyes closed, and when he opened them his pleasant negotiating mask was back in place.

“Now, to the substance of your concern. Aila is well-aware that I do not regard sex in the same way as many of Perdan do, and that my family judges these matters differently. She is likely not aware of the specific arrangements with my staff, but I doubt she would be surprised. She is fully aware that my personal history does not leave me inclined to unnecessary chastity, and she has given no indication that she has any problems with my activities. Nor, I might add, do I have any issue with her continued play with others.”

His lips quirked.

“And, again I ask, how much of a fool do you believe me to be? Because you must truly believe me an imbecile, and I would like to know what I have done to give you such a low opinion of my wits.”

Gideon is unconcerned with the talk of a duel, he has filled gutters with blood for evil emperors and the thought of cutting this man down does not scare him at all. He welcomes the idea, to be the one to free Aila of a dishonest man and he relishes in the fantasy until the word sex comes up.

Where the man had been embroiled in anger a moment before, the redness in his cheeks shifts meaning as he stands back, taking away the affronting step he had cast toward Kenneth a moment ago. He formulates his argument despite the awkwardness of it in regards to his Aila, but is ready to lecture the young man about how Perdan’s women do not expect such behavior -then Kenneth’s statement about Aila’s play silences that right away.

As Kenneth smiles, questions him, and wonders why Gideon thinks he is so stupid the retainer stays silent, almost shrinking as he stands there under the weight of Kenneth's logic and Aila’s loyalty.

Aila wins every time, and only a few seconds tick by until he doubles down in her defense thinking he has outfoxed the Duke “You want me to say Aila has been unfaithful to you, and I will not!” He looks quite happy with himself, sure that he has figured out Kenneth's cunning plan to expose Aila for all of the salacious things Gideon had been trying to talk her out of for months. “You are alone in your trickery. She is a perfect Lady.”

Kenneth stared at Gideon for a long moment, and then burst out laughing.

“Oh...Oh, I rather needed that. Oh, dear Galtea, that is...Gideon, my good man, you are delightful!”

He dabbed at his eyes, before continuing.

“I am perfectly aware that she has dallied with my chief vassal, and likely with others. And I have no objection, and will so swear on the Five Flames, if you like. Unless you think me a false Priest as well as a corrupt predator?”

Kenneth’s laugh takes Gideon aback, he is affronted at first at the gall of this man and for a long moment considers whether to smack him in the face or punch him in the gut and keep him there for Aila to deal with personally. The Duke banishes these thoughts quickly with his declaration of being perfectly aware of how the woman he claims to court is crawling into bed with admittedly more people than he knows about. "No, no. But the Perdanese don’t..” he struggles to find words “They don’t do that here.”

He finally looks as if he might not throttle Kenneth, turning away to gesture to the air “Aila wouldn’t...” He drops her title, such was his confusion until her greater judgment set in and he could see Kenneth was telling the truth. His last ditch effort at blaming someone else is played “Oooh, no...How did you convince her of this?” but retracted right away “Nevermind, we both know you can’t convince her of anything.”

His focus leaves Kenneth, jilted as he may be, to Aila who he is suddenly more annoyed at, piecing it all together at last. Of course she was alright with this, she wanted her cake and to eat it too- And no one is better to give it to her than Kenneth who had a whole cake on payroll for himself. Young idiots, with appetites and power far greater than is good for them and not a care between them to split if they needed to. “I can see now that you’re meant for each other.” It doesn’t sound like a compliment coming from him.

The click of the door latch being pushed up snaps Gideon’s expression to severe and upset to soft and mannerly. Aila pokes her head into her own little office curiously, breaking into a smile as she sees that the servants were not lying when they said the Duke of the Riverlands awaited her here. “Thank you for entertaining the Duke” Aila sounds confident that her retainer has shown Kenneth a wonderful time, offered him every drink or snack or luxury possible as he does with all of her most important guests.

A pleasant smile accompanies her sunny outfit, a pale yellow day dress with layers of wool underneath to combat the autumn chill. Over her arm is draped a familiar black cloak of sable and the silver falcon necklace remains at her throat as always. She puts the cloak aside to approach Kenneth for an embrace with little care for Gideon’s being in the room at all “Sweeting why are you here?”

Gideon winces at her pet name, turning to retreat from the little room where he did not feel welcome anymore.

“I would have canceled my court if I knew.”

Kenneth smiled as he usually did when seeing her, and returned the embrace firmly.

“Well, I was not originally intending to be in the city, but I just could not stay away and changed my plans at the last moment. I can join you at court if you would like, as long as I get to abscond with you afterwards. But, first, you may wish to apprise Gideon of certain realities regarding our relationship and-” he hesitated for a moment, unusually “-play outside it. He does not believe me, and I think that needs to be resolved before he decides to castrate me in my sleep. I will be outside when you are ready.”

He gives a quick squeeze to Aila, and then heads out to the hall.

The words Kenneth speaks are met with apologetic looks, and as he leaves her alone with Gid her eyes follow him out, and a pout is present on her lips. Slowly she turns to Gideon, and her look is not one of apology or even kindness, instantly the older man knows he is in for it and before Kenneth has even shut the door he falls to his knees begging for mercy.

Outside the door Kenneth will hear a low murmur, a few footsteps around the room as Aila ‘explains’ her position, but after a long moment the murmurs stop with an abrupt smash. The sound of thick expensive glass being thrown into a stone wall fills the hallway up and down, the rattling of delicate hard candies spilling across a floor does not travel as far.

A roar erupts then, Aila is no longer speaking low and sinister into Gideons ear she is hollering at him “If you EVER embarrass me again” and a threat, the sound of her swiping something else off her desk “If you EVER bother him again” with a threat even worse. The distinct sound of something wooden snapping is the last thing to escape the room before Gideon races out of it without a second look for anyone else. A short moment later, Aila emerges looking unscatched and unbothered, the only hint at her monstrous outburst leftover being a tinge of red left on her delicate cheeks from the exertion of shouting so loudly.

“Sitting with you for a court would be fun!” Aila suggests pleasantly when she catches up to Kenneth, acting as if nothing had happened at all.

The Duke agreed equally pleasantly, and equally acting as if nothing had happened.

“Excellent, then I am ready to accompany you! And I have a new recipe that I think you might enjoy, later, something that they served at several events in the southlands that reminded me of your tastes. I inveigled the recipe out of one of my hosts, and my people have been preparing it for a few days.”

“Reminded you of my tastes hm?” Aila prods gently, leading the way down the hall from that small room and closer to the courts. Already the pair can hear a low murmur of voices from the large room where Aila sat in front of Alyssa’s throne and did her duty every day for the huge city she had been entrusted with.

Before they are thrust in front of a hundred people in a cavernous room she stops in front of a few demure handmaidens and asks him outright “What is it? A surprise?” while they straighten and fluff the skirts of Aila’s dress and turn the golden curls framing the Duchess’ face over in their fingers to lay them just so.

Kenneth grinned, and stood solicitously to the side while her people did their work.

“Indeed, not so much for the dish itself, though I do hope it is a new one for you, but for the method of serving that I was inspired to create for it. I am quite certain you will enjoy that.”

He prepared to observe and, possibly, offer the occasional bit of advice if called upon. He had taken part in a few courts in Perdan in Smiddich’s day, but it had been some time.

Aila carries herself with enough confidence for both of them and has two large chairs, thrones of a different name, put at the head of the room rather than just one. As they entered together the herald boomed their names and their titles for a few hundred people to hear leaving many to wonder why the Duke of the Riverlands deemed it necessary to sit in. The room is filled with people, a line of guards on each side of the aisle in the center, a huge crowd of minor nobility standing off to each side and a line of people coming to speak with Aila that stretched down the corridors and far beyond what they could see from their seats.

Soon it would become apparent why Kenneth was present, as their young Duchess spent more time looking at the raven-haired man beside her than those who had come for her time. When she had become truly bored with the whining about taxes she had even reached her hand out to him, holding it at first and soon fidgeting with the fine rings he wore.

When she had enough for the day, the line had not seemed to shorten at all but this was a common thing for her, in a City this size often people had to return day after day to see the Duchess herself.

As the herald blasts his formalities, the names, the titles, the salutations to the minor lords and the instructions for the annoyed peasants to come back tomorrow Aila has her eyes on Kenneth. He has made her afternoon go far more quickly than usual, even if he was likely bored to tears she still did appreciate having someone beside her with the same grasp of numbers and the same level of authority to assure the hundredth merchant that the taxes would not last forever...It is something she can get used to, but is not forward enough to say so just yet.

“Thank you for enduring that with me” she whispers as their cue to rise and leave the court appears.

He murmured back.

“I’ve endured worse for less cause. Are there any other duties you need to tend to, my lady?”

In truth, he had not been overly bored. It was interesting seeing her approach, and it gave him some useful insights into some of the same problems that his lands shared. And unlike his own duties for the past few weeks, he was not having to be the one to endlessly repeat the same things, and could rest his voice.

Besides, he was able to amuse himself with considering his plans for after the court. And given Aila’s evident distraction, he felt reasonably certain he would be able to put those plans into practice.

“I could work from morning till night every day and never catch up” Aila laments as they travel further and further from the court room “I would far rather just be spending time with you” She affords him a sweet smile with her admission.

To the surprise of the staff happening by the usually prickly Duchess and her companion she clasps onto Kenneth’s arm giddily “So the answer is yes but please no!”

Kenneth grinned, enjoying having her clasped onto him.

“Then I believe your duties for the rest of the day include discussing matters diplomatic with your fellow Ambassador, and you should not be disturbed. I will send for my little surprise, and for it to work properly, we will need a hot bath drawn up, with room for two.”

He motioned to one of the nearby servants, taking the liberty of dispatching them.

“And now, my lady, I intend to satiate you several ways, and leave you floating in a pool of bliss. Shall we?”

North by Northwest (part 2)

The following morning.

As light lazily made its way across the room, Kenneth stretched carefully, and then started kissing down his bedmate’s shoulder, starting butterfly-light, and slowly becoming firmer, wondering how long it would be until she woke.

Meek morning light reveals pale skin and long hair that had been styled meticulously the day before that now lay in tangle down her back, still shining like spun gold. She is in her own bed, facing away from Kenneth and out into the room that is so familiar to her. Surrounded by her expensive silk sheets and rich embroidered pillows, a bed made for a King but left to her; she is in a cocoon of her own wealth and in a place she is most often alone.

The brush of lips against her neck causes her to stir, the tumbling of a golden tendril off her shoulder as he continues stirs her further still. Hazel eyes flutter open for the shortest of moments, the scene is the most familiar to her. The side table with its pile of letters under the vase of flowers, several spent candles dropping onto the expensive tabletop. Windows across the room are covered over with heavy shutters and curtains to keep the autumn chill out, and the fire out of her sight can still be heard burning low across the room.

Another firmer kiss brings her further from sleep again, a rather unlady-like snort escapes her and she turns over onto her back, coming nose to nose with Kenneth. A long moment of her trying to get her bearings while he smirks down at her ensues, and eventually Aila whispers still half asleep "Good morning. . . Your Grace"

His arm tightened around her, and his fingers squeezed enough for her to realize how much of an effect her greeting had on him. He gave her a warm, deep kiss, letting her feel exactly how he felt about her as the moments whiled by. It was more than a little time before his lips left hers.

“Mm, a very good morning, my love...”

His kiss leaves her wanting more, but nestled in her soft bed beside him is too warm and too comfortable to disrupt just yet. She stirs first by reaching up to push some long black tendrils from Kenneth’s face, taking him in completely before ruining their serene moment with a sudden cocky smile. Her sleepy voice sighs dreamily “Love~” then suggests “You must be pleased with me this morning. I take it you enjoyed yourself last night…?”

He gives a low, pleased sound halfway between a growl and a purr, and wraps a leg over hers.

“That I did, oh, yes...But the real question is, how did you enjoy it? I am quite curious how it compares to other games we have played. The juxtaposition of it being all about you, but having to answer so specifically, and having to be reminded of your place a few times…”

Aila’s cheeks flush pink at the meer recollection of it, considering her answer carefully and always reminding herself of authenticity. It was a question like his that she would usually rebuke, remind him of his place..but the truth was much more interesting than that, so why not tell it to him? “I have said to you before all day I am surrounded by fools stuttering and swallowing their own tongues after me, fulfilling any whim. That is not what I want from a man.” Her fingers venture below the covers, petting his leg affectionately. “Well, not one who is mine.” she clarifies.“That and, it makes me feel younger. My knight days, that bitter sweet mix of telling off my betters but kissing just enough arse not to answer for it” She chuckles at herself, the things she had gotten away with purely by being liked by the right people. “If I met myself then, today, I might throw her off the walls.” Her smile wanes at that, not realizing even then that losing that thrill was yet another consequence of her success; “It was exciting then and it is now.”

He idly ran his hand along her side as he listened, watching her carefully but with a smile on his face. A few things caught his attention.

“So it is the mixture, hm? Did you enjoy this more than when I was completely domineering, then? And excitement, I see...Hmmm...I may have an idea that would be interesting for that, later…”

He interrupted himself frequently as he spoke with kisses and light nibbles.

“You think too much” Aila complains, snapping her teeth playfully at him before rolling out of the bed in a shameless full display, stretching on her way to the wardrobe where a silk robe was draped. “Has anyone ever told you that? No one ever tells me that.” The coolness of the robe on her skin makes her shudder as she pulls it over her shoulders and ties it tight around her waist.

Soft sounds of bare feet on carpet laid over stone accompany the low crackling fire; the room is a cool and cozy place in autumn, dark thanks to Aila’s banishment of the servants. Alone with Kenneth she uses a reed to light her own lamp as she sits on the stool beside her dressing table and selects a silver comb. “People…” she sighs the word, as if she is already tired of them despite their absence “Always tell me I need to think more. To consider my actions before I perform them.”

The duke chuckled softly, enjoying the view as she moved about.

“You are, in point of fact, the first! I was not known for thinking before I acted back in Farrowfield, and since I arrived here...It hasn’t come up.”

He slipped out of the bed as she sat, and gently plucked the comb from her hand, standing behind her and beginning to tend to her hair.

“In this case, as in many, I am not ‘people’. You plan exceedingly well, as several events can attest. You are the Duchess of one of the grandest cities in the world, the Ambassador of one of the original realms of the world...Those are not the accomplishments of someone who does not think.”

The movements of the comb through her hair were firm and skillful. This is clearly not the first, or fiftieth, time he has done this particular task.

“But...That does not answer my question, either. I enjoy my research, but research it also is. After all, how else will I learn how to twist you around my finger?”

His grin shone brightly and wickedly in his dark face, reflecting back to her in the polished silver mirror, his skin lightly prickled from the cool air.

The sight of his bare chest in the looking glass, deft fingers pulling at long strands of hair with an expertise uncommon in a man. Aila watches him for a long moment, lost in thought as she considers the reflective look on his face while he worked. She admires how gentle he is, snagging her precious locks less than the servants who tended her daily. She ponders this after a long moment of simply enjoying his work, stirred by his mention of Farrowfield. Eventually, she recalls his original question and replies bluntly “It is nice to let go of authority, sometimes. I want someone I can rely on, someone cowed by little me...” Aila waves her hand dismissively. “I feel someone I can give some of my power to is a true partner. A rare thing for people like us.”

Without warning a slender hand clamps on his wrist, staying Kenneth’s hands as she prompts him to explain himself “As rare as a nobleman who can detangle waist-length hair without a single snag…”

Kenneth gave a slight bow in response to her answer.

“I can understand that, certainly.”

As her hand caught his wrist, his grin softened into a rare melancholic expression.

“Mm, my own hair is no shorter, of course, and I have had to tend it from time to time, but, mostly...Deirdre.”

He stood unusually still, pausing for a time, before clearly making a decision to continue.

“She...A few of the other families would mutter that she was a changeling. She was not, of course, but...She was complicated. Strange things would upset her, or ease her. She was bright, a genius really, and could understand much, but could barely communicate with anyone except me for many years. And so impatient!”

The corners of his lips tugged upwards.

“I remember one time where a new tutor thought she was an imbecile, because of her speech, and was laboriously attempting to work her through her letters. Deirdre just glared furiously at him, snatched the chalk out of his hand, and sketched out the old elvish rune for 'competence', with the negating symbol in the most exquisitely polite mode after it.”

He shook his head, smiling at the memory.

“He eventually learned, and became one of the better ones. But as her hair grew longer, sitting still for it to be brushed and combed was a torment to her. And the tugs were especially painful, as she was so sensitive…She would be in tears, raging and sobbing…”

His eyes glistened wetly as he continued.

“I tried a few times, myself, hoping...I was gentler, a little, which helped, but sitting still that long…It never went well. But one day, in desperation I suppose, I tried singing while I brushed.”

He shrugged, tears streaming down his face now.

“I wasn’t very good, at the time. My voice had just broken, I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, but it didn’t matter to her. And she would sit, rapt, for as long as I sang. And so every morning I would go brush, and comb...And sing.”

Aila’s gaze never left him in the mirror, she could see his tears but made no mention of them or move to brush them away. His sister again, more peculiar than she had first assumed- she wondered how she must be getting along without him with her now, and tried to imagine her Kenneth singing and brushing a little girl’s hair.

Sadly, she finds she can’t and shifts awkwardly in her seat “We are going to get her back. We will go to Farrowfield together, I will duel my cousin and demand her back- easy” she tries to make it sound simple, but exactly how she would beat Svari in a duel as always is a questionable concept. A neatly pressed square of silk is snatched off her dressing table and handed over her shoulder for him to dry his tears. She did not have any sisters or brothers, her remaining parent is absent but also very unwanted, her family in Dwilight betrayed her, the family in Beluaterra pretenders.

“The last man I told my ambitions to spit in my face” She does not sound angry, just weary “I have no one, nothing of my own. I want my father to be the first of a hundred generations to rest in the crypts of this City.

That is why if we continue our authenticity she is my sister, too. I need all the family I can get.” Her arms are folded, she is speaking very nice words but the look on her face is a familiar one; mild displeasure. A glance at her own sour face in the mirror softens her, and she sighs the words “It is difficult to talk about”.

He took the square without comment, drying his face before discarding it with the rest of the fabric behind him.

“I...Thank you. I think...I don’t know what you’ll think of her, but she shares your ambition. Wanted to visit all the great libraries of the world, learn everything ever known…”

Aila interjects “I love her already because you love her.”

Kenneth’s breath caught. His hand on her shoulder started trembling, then he stepped to her side and slowly sank to one knee, hands clasped and almost wringing. His voice was soft.

“That...Means more to me...She always wanted a sister. And I promised her that I would find her one. And...If you…”

Words failed him, and he mutely lifted his hands, his House signet ring ready in one, and his other reaching for her left.

She allows him to take her hand, holding back a wall of emotion as what she considered a very unlikely thing seemed to finally be happening. Dressed in her silk robe, a Duke fallen to his knee with nothing to hide himself from her view, in her own chamber still dim and shuttered in the early morning. It was not ever what she had imagined this moment to be, and somehow exceeded every expectation. So why could she not say anything?

Paralyzed by disbelief she waits for him, as if until he places the ring none of it is really true.

Gently, delicately, as if afraid it was spun of glass, he lifted her left hand and slid the ring into place on her fourth finger. It was too large, of course, but Kenneth ignored that as he leaned in and gave her a soft kiss, hands lovingly enfolding her, tracing the curves of her ears, trying to show her the feelings he could not express with words. She is still mute in his arms, returning his every affection but like him still struggling to come forth with words to express what she feels inside.

It was some time before he withdrew his lips, and he held her eyes with a bright, joyful smile. Looking up at him is not the harsh stare of the powerful Duchess of Perdan but someone he remembers from long ago, a passionate woman, full of poetry and an ardent love.

“I love you, Aila.”

The words feel like a gust of fresh air through a dusty room, bringing a smile onto her face to match his own as she jumps off of her little dressing stool and into his arms, fingers clamped tight on the loose ring he had put there "I love you, too".

He held her tightly, breathing shakily.

“I was not planning...You just…”

He exhaled a puff of laughter.

“And I thought I was the one with the right words for the right moment…”

Life after Aix

Bescanon

Crowded streets part for the Duchess’ men as they shout their commands to make way to the merchants packing up their wares in the evening sun, getting ready to go to their homes for the evening. The Duchess’ carriage is larger than most, taking up nearly the entire street as it glides on massive wheels over the cobbles and toward the Duke’s estate, Emberhame.

Autumn leaves cover the fine courtyard, falling like rain from the red maples surrounding the road, presenting Aila with a pretty picture as her coachman opened the door and stepped aside.

Before Aila a pretty younger woman leaps from the carriage holding a crutch and waits there with a hand outstretched to assist Aila down off the step and safely to the cobbles where she was given the crutch to lean onto.

Dressed in the usual finery, a forest green silk gown layered over wool skirts and embroidered lavishly with gold with slippers to match it was clear to all not even a crutch would stifle her desire to look the part of Duchess. Her hair had grown to her shoulders, long enough for some silver ornaments; martlets attached to spiralling pins which dotted her golden mane endearingly.

The injury had robbed her of her grace, all could see as she hopped along now with the healer woman close at hand and said nothing. It had also taken her complexion; normally summery and youthful it was pale now, brushed with some rosey cosmetics to try and give her an appearance of someone far healthier. Like Kenneth she had suffered her fevers and chills as well, only now was she beginning to perk up- making her way into the Estate with little assistance.

“Please, slow down Your Grace” the young healer pleads, but there is a smile evident on her face as she does so. Having served Aila for weeks now she had not yet seen the Duchess rush for anything, much less with such a bright smile on her face. Often she hoped that she could escape from whatever meeting she was being dragged to but today she was curious to see the man who turned her cold patient into a giddy maid again.

Kenneth greeted her just inside the door, having made his way quickly after being informed of her arrival. He was outwardly more recovered than she, aside from a certain ashen cast to his skin. But the heavier breathing from merely walking was one clue, and others would become apparent soon enough, like the wince as he embraced her.

“Aila.”

He just held her, for a long moment, before giving a somewhat shaky laugh.

“Well. Right as I had gotten used to not worrying over you in battle, too. Flames, what a disaster.”

The duke breathed in the scent of her hair, and kissed her fiercely, before finally relinquishing his embrace. He kept one hand on her regardless.

“And I take it this is Collette?”

He looked over the healer with searching eyes, trying to gauge the person Aila had entrusted herself to.

Her healer is a young girl dressed in healer's robes mode with fabric of Perdan’s colors, her hair is long and silvery blonde, tied back into a tight braid out of the way. Colette had been a member of the palace infirmary staff since a young teenager and now partly through her twenties had grown in such standing that Aila would allow only Collette to tend her wounds. Despite her overwhelming competency she seemed to shrink under the gaze of the Duke, embarrassed by witnessing his tender moment with her patient and averting her watery blue eyes nervously at the mention of her name.

“Yes it is” Aila replies in her perfectly snooty accent, though does not spare a glance away from her ailing fiancé as he struggles to stand straight under the burden of his wounds. “She is one of my healers from Perdan, the best of course.”

With the compliment Collette stands tall and proud to have earned this praise, lingering behind with the coachmen looking smug as they waited for the nobility to move along where they may.

As Aila holds onto Kenneth with one arm and the crutch with the other Collette can see quite plainly that they are holding each other up, and already she is endeared to their relationship. From behind she can hear snippets of their conversation, the duchess had much more interesting things to talk about than her healer, anyway.

Far ahead of Collete Aila speaks as they go forth together, ignoring the pain and fatigue in her limb for his benefit as they climb the steps to his estate “A disaster, but one we can use to our collective advantage. It has been an interesting few days of debate with you indisposed, my love” Aila muses, knowing what a stack of letters he must have had to comb through to catch up with current events. “Thing are moving so quickly now, everything I write is amplified ten times...I find it to be...Exciting”

Kenneth filed Collette away for later, and focused on helping Aila up the stairs, though his side was protesting every step. If he hadn’t known better, he would have called for chair-bearers, but her reaction would do more damage than the stairs would, at a guess.

“I am glad you do! If we hadn’t lost the entire Grand Court, I might as well. Matching wits with Perleone with so few cards to play is not how I expected to be negotiating this peace, blast Lucius and his flightiness.”

The words were said with more resignation than heat, though how much heat there might have been had they not just reached the top of the stairs is an open question.

“I can’t guess how this will all end, though. Too many factors, not least of which is the gold Richard can promise. Not the opponent I had expected, either, I thought he was solidly in your faction. Is there going to be an issue, there?”

“Despite what everyone may think of me my goal was never to Rule Perdan, my goal was to save it. Richard has always seen my side in things, he assisted in protesting so I see this as a win-win.” Aila has taken a moment to straighten herself out at the top of the stairs, and dismisses her healer with little more than a stern look.

As they travel the hallways, Aila reveals what is on her mind with a cheeky comment as they near his chambers. With a laugh she tells Kenneth playfully “But that is enough business after being apart for so long. I never thought I would have to say this again, but you’ll have to be gentle.”

---

Cold autumn winds whip icy rain against the walls of Emberhame, and lightning flashes through the halls as a storm rages outside. Inside Kenneth’s chambers he and Aila sleep soundly together in his bed, sheltered by shutters and thick window coverings.

The Duchess’ sleep is always turbulent, but the sounds of echoing thunder and the threat of the unknown disturb it further. She has spent the night tossing and turning, twisting into a blanket and kicking it off as if she had forgotten anyone else is there.

Waking alone in her chambers in Perdan Aila sits up startled, glancing around the room to see if anyone could have caught her napping. Seeing no one she looks down to straighten her clothes, finding them not to be what she remembered wearing that day. A tunic and trousers as if she were about to go scouting, in fact, it reminded her starkly of her old knight's tunic from her days in Nascot; and she finds herself fond of it. She recalls the many times she had called others lazy for daring to lay their heads down during the day. When had she even done that?

‘I have to tell Collete; my leg feels great today’

A glance out the nearest window makes her stomach drop, the sun was only rising amid a red sky; she had slept like that all night?

Outside of her chambers guards wait, smiling at her pleasantly the way none of her staff did anymore, and barely flinching as she glares their way.

Her study door is ajar, something she never allowed whether working inside it or not; the Pirate King’s study had a strictly closed door policy for many years now… Hearing a fire crackling inside she feels anger rise in her chest. Who would dare be in her study this early? Making themselves comfortable with a fire no less. A vision of Oliver with his boots up on her desk and a coffee in hand sends her into the heavy door with a look of pure hate on her face.

The boisterous bark of an older man, glad to see her “Peach!” makes her heart stop, the blood in her veins turns to ice, she stares dumbfounded at her Smiddy sitting back at his desk, looking the same as he always had when she knew him. All the anger in her was replaced with a pale fear, she had dreamed this dream before and knew it would be over soon.

Charging forward with a few fast steps speaks urgently “Smiddy, I have to tell you-”

As always a crashing of sea water against the salty panes behind him precede his question, always the same “You never called me that….What time is it?”'

Beside Kenneth Aila wakes up in a start, both hands clamped over her hammering heart- pale and startled she looks as though she has seen a ghost. Unbidden the words “Sunrise” escape her lips, answering out loud the spectre in her dreams. As she turns to leap from bed- she is caught by a concerned hand on her forearm and a groggy voice reminding her tiredly “Your leg, love.”

Kenneth shivered, pulling the blanket back up over them. “Nightmares, again?” He wrapped himself around her as best he could, trying to hide the catch in his breath from his side. The previous night had been less athletic than usual for them, but it had exhausted them just as much, given the circumstances.

“No,” Aila breathes, sinking back into his embrace under the covers, pulling them up to her nose protectively and hiding in the pocket of warmth there as she thought about what she had seen. “It was not a good or bad dream… It was the same one I had last time I..” Lost, failed, let herself down, “Did not win.”

Trembling in his arms, wrestling with her own indecision, she pokes her nose back out of the blankets and sits up in bed beside him, pushing her tousled hair back with both hands “Maybe an omen. What if it means I will not win this time either?”

Kenneth enjoyed the sight for a moment before dragging himself half-upright and pulling her close. “Then you are still the Duchess of the greatest duchy of the most storied realm in the history of the world, with friends and allies including the new King, you have an adoring betrothed, and you will have a slightly shorter stack of letters to deal with. The plan is still the same. And besides, the number of dukes and duchesses in history who end up with their heads on pikes is rather lower than the number of Kings and Queens. Difficult to found a dynasty that lasts a hundred generations from a pike.”

There may have been a tinge of scorn in her eyes as he mentioned her head on a pike, something that had become a little too close to reality for her comfort lately. In many ways he was right, Richard was a good advocate for change, had a huge fortune to fund anything he could dream of, and remained a far less controversial figure than herself. “Some of them think I am a monster” she breathes, thinking of Smiddy again; the mentor and lover of her youth; how everyone had loved him versus how they hated her. “They even went after you…”

Kenneth shrugged, not releasing her. “Some of them are fools. They see the world not as it is, but as they wish it to be, and think that our ancestors became nobles by slaying a valiant champion in battle, not by ruthlessness and cunning. And I can handle my own in the court of public opinion, have no fear. That might be the solution for next time, have me handle your public relations...Would you care for a Duke as your social secretary and spokesman, my love?”

His voice was light, but he left enough honesty in that she could hear that it was a genuine offer. He cared little what the rest thought, and if it helped her in her goals, he could play the part easily enough.

She knows he is trying to console her, but lingering doubts remain on her mind as she thinks back on her dream. Eventually she replies with a forced laugh and refuses his offer “I do not even want to be my own ‘spokesperson’ most days. As always I have to be happy with the knowledge that I did my duty, regardless of what happens.”

Aila leans into him, glad that she had decided to spend the night in Bescanon with him, not alone in her chamber where she could slowly drive herself mad. “No..Even Alyssa said she cannot be rid of me. They too will just have to suffer me.”

Kenneth grinned, kissing the top of her head. “Fair enough, then. Shall we find out together? I feel like this is a ‘letters in bed’ sort of morning. And, besides, you know how much I enjoy showing you off.” He waggled his eyebrows in a gesture that would have been suggestive, had it not been so overt. A laughing Aila seemed the best way to take the news, whatever it was.

A nod in agreement is her reply before shouting abruptly into the darkened room “Collette!” Only to sit with a satisfied smirk as her healer ran headlong into the room. Through the sheer draperies at the end of their bed they could watch the plump figure of the girl hurrying to tie her robes just as her foot catches the leg of a side table and sends her crashing to the floor.

Red faced, and well disheveled the healer eventually makes it to Aila’s bedside where she asks nervously “Pain, my Lady?”

Aila parts the draperies to shake her head and ask “Did I get any letters?” tersely to the younger girl, who responded to the sight of her Lady in such an intimate setting with her betrothed by silently, and more carefully, plodding back across the room and out the door. When she is done the Duchess begins to snicker “She hates when I do that…”

Kenneth just shook his head, grinning. “You are terrible. Your own healer, even. Whatever shall I do with you?” He nipped gently on her shoulder, tone amused. “Perhaps we should give her a more amusing sight on her return, and see how shocked she can be. Or is she inured to such things already, my lustful lioness?”

“Lustful?” Aila asks as she shakes off his bite with little more than a wince and flick of her finger playfully against his nose to get him away. “It is not me who is lustful” she informs with faux annoyance, sinking into the feather bed and it’s mass of pillows, inviting him to do the same “I am the beautiful maiden who is the object of lust. A curse, really”

After a few languid kisses under the covers she had already forgotten about Collette, by the time the healer arrived it was the clumsy rattle of a breakfast tray covered in letters being left on their bedside table that got Aila’s attention. A pale hand is thrust through the sheer draperies on the bed and Aila snatches the letter within it without any thanks, saying nothing more as the younger blonde flees the room as red as a beet.

“Open it” Aila commands overly tersely as she thrusts it into Kenneth’s hand, once again pushing herself upright.

Kenneth took the letter wordlessly, hoping and dreading in equal measure. He broke the seal carefully over the tray to collect the wax, before quickly scanning it, his face impassive. “I’m sorry. It was as close as could be. A coin toss, in the end. But we have a new King.”

He wrapped his arms around her again, just holding.

She lets him slip back into place but makes no comment for a few tense seconds as she stares at the results lying in the bed in front of her. A huff escapes her, one as bratty as anyone would expect and a deft flick on the edge of the letter sends it slipping across the bed and onto the floor out of her sight.

Aila growls frustratedly as she rolls over in bed commanding with false malice “FIND me that COINFLIPPER!”

Her playfulness about the loss would surprise even Collette who stood outside the door between the guards, all three listening for the inevitable tantrum. Instead they heard only laughter.

River’s Run

After everything, Kenneth thought some fresh air was in order. Aila had agreed that it would make at least part of the rest of the night easier to have some distance between them and anyone else, and that fit in with his own plans nicely. A coach to the dock was arranged in short order, and by the time they arrived one of his own personal craft was there waiting for them. His pell-mell rush to Nascot had been too precipitous for the luxurious vessel to be readied, but it had followed in the interim, and he was glad of it.

As they cast off, with the moon and stars providing fine illumination aside from the occasional wandering cloud, he guided her by the hand to the elegant cabin high in the stern of the craft. It had been designed to host quite the party, but the guest quarters that surrounded it were of course empty tonight. Watching her look over the vessel and it’s rooms with the same judgement she surveyed any venue was a strange comfort, some things never change.

“Not exactly the sail I had suggested earlier, but comfort seems wiser, at the moment.”

His suggestion shifts her attention from the boat back to him, and she nods in as cheerful an agreement she can muster with the heaviness still lingering in her heart.

A few quiet words to his sailing master made sure the crew were distributed away from the cabin, and a number of instruments began playing. The sound was not overly loud once the hatch was closed, but he knew that it would both help soothe his shaken lady, and mask any other sounds easily. His assumption was proven right away, as the moment they were alone Aila had pulled him into her embrace, cheek pressed tight against his chest.

“So. It seems we have a few personal matters to discuss, above and beyond politics and the rest. And I am upset, though not enraged, the way I gather you were afraid of.”

Kenneth’s words bring her eyes up to him; a sharp chin pressing in as she watches his face for any sign of doubt.

Instead Aila saw only a hungry glint in his eye accompanied the seemingly-light words.

“I thought, perhaps, we could handle both at the same time.”

His eagerness brings a flush to her cheeks, and not from embarrassment but she pulls herself from him-giving him relief from the boney chin on his chest and guides his hands to her own. The ruckus of sailors strumming in their quarters was not usually so pleasant, and remained something she had never danced to but she was with Kenneth now; and if there was any man that she could trust not to mock her rather less graceful movements it was him. Even with the extra care he had to give while swaying gently with unique music, the improvement in her leg was apparent. With nothing but him to cling to she seemed comfortable on her feet for the first time since Aix… The admiration of her progress was cut short by words mumbled low near his chest, he has to lower his head and ask her to speak again before she -somewhat frustratedly blurts- .“If you brought me here to throw me in the river I would understand you more.”

“What?!” Kenneth balks, both amused and horrified at her.

Aila looks guilty at once, her dark mood about to ruin yet another moment with a loved-one “I just meant, we are very different. Sometimes I just do not understand you.” She tries to impress him with a twirl, but in the end just causes him to worry and grab onto her even tighter. “And even so I do not think anyone else could ever suit me better.”

Kenneth held her tightly. “The feeling is mutual, both on the understanding and the suiting.”

After another long moment he firmly, if gently, tilted her head back and kissed her before pulling slightly back. “I think...We should start at the core, and work our way outwards. So. Now that I have had some time to think, I believe I see the full situation, or enough of it. And there are a few things at the core of us…”

He paused a moment. “I am not overly concerned about the lineage of your child. In my kin, descent is determined by the mother, not the father. I...Certainly hope to have children of my own, at some point, but it is not...An insurmountable challenge.”

Kenneth’s voice heated, as he slowly tore down the walls he had erected around his feelings in Nascot. “What I am more unhappy about is that it is clear Oliver is no plaything. I believe I was clear that while I had no objection to you having playthings, I am as subject as any to jealousy over intimacy. And clearly he believes he has something more with you, and under the circumstances it is not hard to see why. So, while I am not going to throw you into the river” he shuddered a moment at the thought “I am going to require two things. First, as of this moment, whatever it was with Oliver is done. And if there are any other intimate relationships, matters that go beyond amusements of the flesh, I need to know, right now, everything.”

His arms shook a little as he worked to calm himself. “And any time any plaything crosses over into anything more, I need to know within the day. Second, I claim the right to a forfeit from you. As you broke one of my rules, I can now break one of yours, and while I won’t require you to smile, you can even fight back-”

His expression, with eyes hot and temporarily cruelly-curved lips attested that he might prefer if she fought back, in his current mood.

“I want you to agree, here and now, that I have this right. I have a particular plan in mind involving a peasant, and I think that is fair enough on my part. If these two things are done, then I will say no more about the matter. Have we a deal?”

He holds her close for the entire delivery of his requests and demands, and even had the nerve to smile at her. Aila had pledged to always be authentic with him but the truth was that sometimes that authenticity came a little too easy for her. “How” She barks in his face, frowning “Am I to be held responsible for Oliver’s feelings? I have told him again and again the situation; he is infatuated with me. I do not control that. Why should I be punished?”

He had held onto her but she now folds her arms obstinately, slender nose high in the air as she goes on to boast. “You should be flattered, how lovely your betrothed must be” Her lips twinged, recalling the baby she had forced onto him. Not lucky, but flattered surely?

“And- And-” Rage sweeps her tone again as she comes up with something more to throw at him “If you think a child with a peasant is remotely comparable then- you can just- have them!” Her cheeks tinge red at the thought, her Kenneth with a dirty peasant…Already she has a list of healers in mind to inspect him before letting him near her again.

His smile was oddly affable, though his eyes flashed. “First, I said nothing about a child with a peasant. I merely have one in particular that I wish to show you off to, and under the circumstances I think that is more than fair.”

The next smile he had given her was kinder, but the words to follow were not and the smirk she had sported faded into a glum frown at the idea of being seen by a peasant. The red silken outfit he had gifted her flashed through her mind and as he went on to speak of the pain she had caused him she shrinks even more.

Kenneth’s lips curled into something closer to bared teeth. “Second, if it is merely Oliver’s feelings at stake, then I expect putting him aside to be no matter of concern.”

That smooth diplomatic voice was nearly snarling. “Third, you know full well why you should be punished. Bare moments ago you were surprised I did not wish to throw you in the river. But if you wish it laid out clearly-”

His eyes closed, and when they opened again she could see the open wounds in them, and he stepped back, hands and fingers working in tangled, coiled emotions. “You have hurt me, Aila. You have hurt me, and embarrassed me. In Nascot, of all places, where we first grew to be friends in our own rights. I love you, but that is a bitter pill.”

The anger overcame, or perhaps bandaged, the hurt once again, and he loomed over her, prying her arms apart at the wrists, and forcing them over her head as he backed Aila up against the wall. “And this is how I choose to combat that bitterness. The heart of our arrangement has often worked this way. But if you will deny me this, then I will have to consider that you have decided that my agreement to bend to your whims in public so long as you bent to mine in private meant that I would always bend. And it is not so.” Kenneth’s sudden grip on her wrists she does not expect, and given his current state it seems unwise to wrench them back. Instead she lets herself be forced against the wall, protesting halfheartedly as she tries a few sharp tugs “I did not decide-” but it is cut off by a gasp and a wince as his teeth graze her skin dangerously..

Those teeth bit for time into her shoulder before he growled up into her ear. “So. I intend to work out my various frustrations until you acquiesce. That is already my right, under our arrangement.”

He withdrew his face just enough to hold her eyes with his, searchingly. “And I know you wish to go north, and I will likely follow. I am fairly persuadable. But do not deny my pain.”

Her hazel eyes do not meet his at first, instead glancing around as if looking for some escape from this situation she had created, and finding none she finally looks him in the eye. “I think anger is why I allowed him to linger so near. Jealous, wroth, passionate...It was enticing but now even hearing you speak his name gives me regret.”

Aila resists looking down at herself, reminded of the situation she had put them in with her enticement “I will put him aside. It was never my intention to involve him in all of this…” The thought of Lorelai, Lucius and their children spur her on to make her case, still pinned in place unwilling to fight him beyond the initial few sharp tugs to test his resolve.

“The entire court thinks that they know me, they think I am working for naught but jewels and titles....You...must know that is not true” She looks unsure of that for the first time, wondering perhaps with the pain she has caused him that he may think little of her now too. ”This place is infected, it is poisoned, something eats at it from within. The King’s ‘diplomacy’ is an embarrassment, we are more of a mockery than ever, and I cannot watch my family suffer any longer. The things that I read in the Small council scare me Kenneth...I am not easily scared. There /has/ to be something better.

“They say you cannot choose your family. But I want to. Why should I not? I choose you Kenneth, and Lori and Lucius.... but most of all you. I cannot ask you to leave all you’ve earned and come with me; but I do want this for us both.”

He closed his eyes, just breathing for a time. “I do know there is more to you. And I do see the problems, here. Whether it is something better fled or fixed, I do not know. But…”

Kenneth’s hands spasmed, and his voice was soft. “Where you go, I will follow. Tell me about why Eponllyn will be better, why Oligarch should be revived, why we should abandon our lands and positions...Later.”

His passion was rising, in a way she knew better than any. “For now, I have better tasks for your tongue.”