PFA's NTWF RP stories

[PFA]

These dang Jade relatives randomly demanding fics. >_> Incidentally, this fic is alternatively titled "Why Nobody Loved Patrick Jade"

Making a Difference - Part 1

SPOILER: Click to show

"May Lord Woo bless you in sickness and in health, for better and for worse..."

Lord Patrick Jade smiled proudly at his son standing at the altar, opposite from his lovely bride. His upcoming heir deserved the very best, and he was glad to have found Lady Eleanor Escalus for him. He had no doubt that the two of them would work well together, bringing a bright future for House Jade—Eduard was a strong, confident boy, and Eleanor was resilient, and from all that he'd seen she had a good head on her shoulders.

But most of all, much to Patrick's delight, she was a mage.

We're going to bring magic back to this family, he thought to himself. One step at a time.

---

Time went on. Eduard and Eleanor did indeed make a good pair, continually learning and growing from each other—promising to one day handle the House affairs with confidence and wisdom. They'd had four healthy children together, and were soon to have another. Lord Patrick couldn't be more proud, knowing that his legacy, and the legacy of his fathers before him, would be left in good hands.

Of course, included in his fathers' legacy was the legacy of magic. Long ago, House Jade was known throughout the land to birth some of the most powerful mages in the kingdom. As such, magic had always been an important part of their House, an important tradition they had vowed to always uphold.

Unfortunately, magic was something you had to be born with. And over the years, the powerful magic in the Jade bloodline had faded, reducing heirs who should have been great mages to having no magical ability at all. It was a trial for their House, one that had been going on for nearly five generations now.

But like any trial, it could be overcome. Lord Patrick was convinced that their magic could be brought back, and he was determined to see to it that it happened—no matter what it took.

"Isn't it a bit early to be making marriage arrangements?" Eduard had to ask. "I mean... they're still children."

"As heir to House Jade, it is of utmost importance that your children have worthy suitors. Everett especially," Patrick explained. "He will be carrying on the House Jade legacy, and so will his children. It is never too soon to plan ahead."

"...I suppose so," Eduard agreed slowly.

"Now, as I was saying, I think Cassandra Oberon has great potential," Patrick said. "Lord Apollo has told me that she is very bright, and has been doing phenomenally well in her magic lessons—implying that she will grow up to be a very powerful mage."

"Certainly a good trait to have."

"Precisely. She obviously has strong mage blood, and I think that can only be a benefit to our House..."

---

"Theo! Theo, look!"

Young Theodore Jade looked up from his toys to be greeted by the familiar face of his twin sister, Dorothea. Her gray-blue eyes were bright with excitement, a huge grin plastered on her face as she presented her brother with her find—a slightly worn leather-bound book.

"What is it?" Theodore asked, moving closer to get a better look.

"It's a book, silly!" Dorothea giggled. "I found it. What do you think it says? I bet it's a magic book."

"It doesn't look like a magic book." Theodore accepted the book as he handed it to him, handling it carefully as if afraid to damage it. "I think it's a history book."

"Nuh-uh! It has runes in it, so that means it's gotta be a magic book!" Dorothea insisted. "Look, see?"

"H-hey, careful!" Theodore yelped as Dorothea reached over and wrested open the book in his hands. "Don't rip it!"

"I'm not gonna rip it! But look!" Dorothea pointed to some writing inside the book. "See? They're runes!"

"That's not runes, I think that's just numbers."

"They're not numbers! Numbers look different!"

"I remember what numbers look like. They're numbers!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Theodore? Dorothea?" came another voice, distracting the twins from their conversation. It was Everett, their elder brother by four and a half years. "Have you seen my book?"

Dorothea frowned at this. "Uh-oh."

"Wait, is this Everett's book?" Theodore asked, also frowning.

"I didn't know, it was just lying around!" Dorothea insisted, hastily trying to take the book back from him. "Quick, let's put it back before we get in trouble!"

"Hey, stop it! You're gonna—"

As the two of them were struggling, there was a distinct rip! sound, causing both twins to instantly freeze on the spot and stare back down at the book. The damage was minor, just a small tear down some of the pages, but to them, the book may as well have been torn in half. They had damaged Everett's book, and they were going to be in so much trouble.

"I've looked everywhere, and I can't find my book," came Everett's voice again, much closer this time. Before the two young twins had the time to properly react, their older brother appeared in the doorway. "Have you two seen—"

"It wasn't me!" Dorothea immediately yelped, pointing to the petrified Theodore. "He did it!"

"Did what?" Everett questioned, looking down at Theodore with a frown. "What are you doing with my book?"

"I-I... Dory took it by mistake," Theodore told him. "We didn't know it was yours."

"I was gonna put it back!" Dorothea insisted. "But, um... but then Theo ripped it!"

Everett's frown deepened. "You what?"

"No I didn't!" Theodore cried. "Dorothea's the one who was tugging on it!"

"You wouldn't let go! That's why it ripped!"

"I was trying to stop you from ripping it!"

"I don't care what you were trying to do, you shouldn't have taken my book," Everett scolded them, walking up to Theodore to take the book back from him. "I need it for my studies, and I'll get in trouble if it gets ruined."

"But— it was an accident!" Dorothea whined. "And I told you I was gonna put it back!"

"You should have been more careful, then," Everett replied with a scowl. "And don't touch my stuff again."

As Everett turned to leave with his book, Theodore glanced over at his twin sister, whose lip was now quivering, tears welling up in her eyes. Theodore frowned. He didn't really want his sister to get in trouble, and it really was an accident...

"Wait!" he yelped, hurrying after his big brother. When Everett stopped to look back at him, Theodore continued. "We're really, really sorry! We really didn't know it was your book, and we didn't mean to rip it. Please don't be mad?"

Everett was silent at first, looking into his brother's big, apologetic eyes. After a moment, he glanced down at the book, examining it for a while before letting out a sigh. "Well... it's not that badly ripped. And it was an accident."

Theodore smiled at this. "So you're not mad?"

"And you won't tell daddy or grandpa?" Dorothea added.

"I won't tell them, no," Everett replied. "And... I guess I'm not mad. I'm glad you apologized. You should still be more careful, though."

"Don't worry, we will." Theodore nodded. "Right, Dory?"

"Uh-huh." Dorothea sniffed, wiping at her eye with her sleeve. "I won't take your book again, promise."

"Good." Everett smiled at them, confirming that all was well again. Theodore was glad. "Anyway, I need to get back to my studies."

"Wait! Before you go, um..." Dorothea hesitated before continuing. "What kind of book is it?"

Everett raised an eyebrow, before glancing down at the book again. "Oh, well, it's about the history of magic in House Jade. It's pretty interesting, actually."

"See? I knew it was a history book!" Theodore chirped. "I was right!"

"Nuh-uh, it's a magic book, too!" Dorothea protested. "So it's both!"

"So we were both right!" Theodore grinned. "It's a history book and a magic book!"

Everett couldn't help but smile, shaking his head at his siblings' antics. "Have fun, you two. I need to get back to studies."

"I can't wait until I learn to read," Dorothea remarked, as Everett left the room. "Then I'll be able to read all the magic books I want!"

"Yeah!" Theodore agreed. "And history books, and books about Lord Woo, and all sorts of books!"

"Yeah! We'll read all the books!"

"Uh-huh!"

As the two of them were laughing together, Theodore caught the sound of his father's voice from the hallway, piquing his interest. Curious, he tapped his sister's shoulder to get her attention, before the two of them moved to the doorway to see what was going on. To their surprise, both their father and their grandfather were there, the both of them talking to Everett about something... unexpected.

"...My wife?" Everett asked, sounding confused.

"That's right," their father, Lord Eduard, said with a smile. "For when you're older, of course. You won't have to worry about it for another ten years or so."

"But it still is an important responsibility," added Lord Patrick, their grandfather. "Especially as the upcoming heir to this House. Just remember, my boy—one day, you will be the one making history." He smiled, gesturing to the book in Everett's arms. "Perhaps you'll get your own chapter in one of those books. How would that be?"

"I'll be sure to do my best," was Everett's response. Still seeming a bit baffled, he added, "So... who is she?"

"Well, we haven't made a final decision just yet. But don't worry." Eduard smiled, bending down and ruffling his son's hair. "We'll be sure to find you someone you'll like."

"That would be nice." Everett smiled, immediately smoothing down his hair. "Um, I need to get back to my studies."

"Yes, of course. It's good to see you so dedicated to learning," Patrick said with a nod. "Go along, then. We'll speak more about your future another time."

As Everett went on his way, Dorothea turned to her twin brother with a confused expression. "Everett's gonna be married?"

"But he's not old enough to get married," Theodore replied, frowning. Everett may have been older than them, but he was still only nine years old. Only adults were supposed to get married, weren't they?

"Well, of course he'll be married. He is heir to House Jade, after all," came Lord Patrick's voice, apparently having overheard the two children talking and coming over to greet them. "But it won't be for another several years. We're merely making plans for when it does happen."

"Are we gonna have to get married, too?" Dorothea asked.

"Oh, of course, dear. It's a very important responsibility for noble children such as yourselves," Patrick explained, kneeling down to meet their eye level. "In fact, you may very well have the opportunity to make a difference in this world. Isn't that exciting?"

"...Really?" Theodore looked up at his father, who smiled and nodded back down at him. Theodore, however, wasn't convinced. How was getting married supposed to change the world?

"Don't worry, we'll be certain to find a good wife for you, too," Patrick assured him. Turning to Dorothea, "And a good husband for you. But, again, that won't be for some time yet."

"It better be! Getting married sounds hard," Dorothea huffed.

Patrick chuckled at this. "Don't worry, dear. You'll understand in due time."

Of course, neither Theodore nor Dorothea knew what he was talking about at the time. Why was it so important for them to get married? And how was it supposed to change the world?

But they would come to understand. In time, they would come to understand very well.

---

As he'd promised, it was only a matter of time before Eduard's other children were caught up in Lord Patrick's grand plans to restore magic to House Jade. Even as his health declined, the Lord of House Jade would search all of Corvus, seeking for the most powerful mage companions for his grandchildren. For the girls, it was easy—those Curys boys showed a lot of potential, and would be an excellent suitors for Dorothea and Helena. It may take some convincing for Lord Colbert to give up his sons for the cause, but Lord Patrick wasn't concerned. He still had plenty of time to sort that out.

Finding mates for Theodore and Roderick, however, proved to be much more challenging. But Patrick was determined not to give up... even if he did have to resort to some extreme measures.

"You realize that their mothers are sisters, don't you? They're first cousins."

"And what of it?" Patrick raised an eyebrow at his advisor. "It's not uncommon for noble marriages to be between relatives. Many of my ancestors have done as such."

"I'm afraid that's the problem, my lord," the elven advisor replied flatly. "I've seen it happen—the more often you marry close relatives, the higher the risk of unhealthy offspring. I worry that you're taking it too far."

"Sometimes it is necessary to take risks in order to achieve the best results," Patrick told him. "I seek to bring magic back to this House, Peter. And if some of my grandchildren have to marry their cousins in order for that to happen, then so be it."

Peter frowned, biting back the more unpleasant comments that came to his mind. Instead, he settled on, "Surely there's a better alternative."

"I have looked into the matter quite thoroughly. There is no better alternative." Patrick leaned in, looking Peter in straight the eye. "Now then, is there anything else?"

There was a lot more he wanted to say, but it was clear that Lord Patrick wouldn't listen. So instead, Peter gave a relenting sigh. "...Nothing else, my lord." After a pause, he added, "Just remember not to overwork yourself; the healers said you should take it easy."

"I assure you I have no intention of defying the healers. Though I do appreciate your concern." Patrick waved his hand to dismiss him. "I just need to finish this paperwork."

"Very well, my lord." Without another word, Peter gave a respectful bow, and left the room. He didn't like where this was going, and it could very well end in tragedy, but clearly there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Making a Difference - Part 2

SPOILER: Click to show

Eduard and Eleanor sat in silence on the trip back from Ahtenroc. Once the decision had been made, Lord Patrick sent the two of them off to discuss marriage arrangements with Lord Jasper. Not to their surprise, the proposal was met with strong disapproval, from Lady Eleanor's own sister Lacy as well as Lord Jasper himself. But after some difficult discussion, they ultimately came to an unhappy agreement, sending everyone home with a bitter taste in their mouth.

After a long and uncomfortable silence, it was Eleanor who finally spoke. "I'm not sure we should go through with this."

"The arrangements have already been made, Eleanor," Eduard told her. "There's not much we can do now."

"I just don't think it's a good idea, politically speaking," Eleanor continued. "They clearly didn't want to do it—this won't help our relations with House Opaline at all."

"I don't like it, either, but father was quite clear on what he wanted." Eduard let out a sigh. "And, I mean... he does have a point. Sometimes to get the desired result, you have to take risks."

"But is this the desired result?" Eleanor asked. "Is it really worth it?"

Eduard didn't respond, not sure what to say to that. They were silent again for some time, lost in their own thoughts, before Eleanor spoke again.

"Has Theodore been told yet?" she wondered.

"I wasn't going to tell him until the arrangements were made," Eduard replied. "But it's possible my father said something about it to him."

"Hm." Eleanor thought on this for a moment, before continuing. "I wonder how he'll take it."

"I don't know. But... I'm sure it will work out somehow." Eduard smiled faintly, putting a reassuring arm around his wife's shoulders. "We just have to have faith, right?"

Eleanor sighed, absentmindedly leaning into the hug. "I suppose it's the least we can do. Lord Woo help us all."

Eduard let out a sad chuckle. "I couldn't agree more, dear."

---

Theodore, now nearly nine years old, sat in one of the sitting rooms with a book in his lap. The boy had never lost his enthusiasm for reading, and ever since he learned how, he seemed to carry a book with him everywhere he went. The book he was reading at the moment was about Saint Nephrite, the missionary credited to bringing Wooism to the Jades many years ago. It was his favorite story growing up, and he never tired of reading about it.

"What happens next?" asked Helena, Theodore's youngest sister, seated on the couch next to him and peering over his shoulder curiously.

"Well, then Saint Nephrite was made the official priest of House Jade," Theodore explained. "And he advised them on spiritual matters and stuff."

"Ooh. Like what?"

"Um..." Theodore paused, flipping through a few pages of the book, before settling on a page and smiling. "Well, when our House first got put in charge of Corvus, there were a lot of people they had to play nice with, like the elves. So they consulted with Saint Nephrite a lot so they'd know how to get along..."

He continued to tell the story, young Helena still clinging to his side and listening. Theodore smiled, pleased to see her so interested in the story. If there was anything Theodore loved more than reading great stories, it was sharing those stories with other people.

"That's cool!" Helena chirped, once the story was finished. "You tell good stories, Theo."

"What's really cool is that these stories actually happened," Theodore replied, holding up the book proudly. "The Jades in this story are our real ancestors. Isn't that cool?"

"Yeah! It's cool!" Helena agreed. "I wanna hear more!"

"Okay, let's see..." Theodore skimmed through the book some more, looking for another good story. "Oh, there was this one time where Saint Nephrite had to—"

"Theodore?"

The two children looked up at the sound of the third voice, just in time to see two familiar figures appear in the doorway. Helena beamed, climbing off the couch and running up to greet them. "Mommy, daddy! You're home!"

"It's good to see you, too, honey." Eleanor smiled at the child now hugging her legs, giving her an affectionate pat on the head. "Have you been a good girl while we were gone?"

"Uh-huh!" Helena nodded enthusiastically. "Theo was tellin' me stories."

Eduard gave an amused smile at this, glancing toward Theodore. "Was he, now?"

"Uh-huh." Theodore nodded. "I was just reading about Saint Nephrite, and she wanted to know more."

"Good," Eduard said. "That's good."

There was a pause. After a moment, Theodore set down his book, looking up at his parents expectantly. "So, um, you called me earlier?"

"Ah... yes, I did." Eduard's smile noticeably faltered at the topic, which concerned Theodore. What had happened? Had he done something wrong? "We have some news for you, Theodore—you've been arranged to marry."

"Oh." Theodore blinked. He supposed it wasn't that unusual; they'd already arranged marriages for Everett and Dorothea, so it wasn't as though it was a shock. What was concerning, though, was how serious everyone was acting about it. After a bit of hesitation, Theodore asked, "...To who?"

"Her name is Sophia Opaline," Eleanor said, her tone level. "Your Aunt Lacy's daughter."

Theodore was silent for a moment as he tried to process this information. "...So she's my cousin?"

"But that's weird," Helena remarked.

"...Yes, she's your cousin," Eduard admitted. With a heavy sigh, he moved over to the couch where Theodore was sitting, taking a seat beside him. "I know it might seem a little strange, marrying a relative, but sometimes it happens with noble families."

Theodore frowned. It wasn't as though he hadn't heard of cousin marriages—as his father said, sometimes it happened with noble families, despite it generally being abhorred by the peasantry, and increasingly more among the nobles themselves. He'd never expected that he himself would be a part of it, but now that he was... he wasn't sure what to think.

"What..." he spoke slowly, looking up at his father. "...What's she like?"

Eduard didn't answer, instead looking to Eleanor. Eleanor was silent for a moment, before letting out a sigh. "She's a very nice girl," she told him. "I think you would get along well with her."

Theodore nodded, thinking on this. The idea of marrying some cousin of his who he'd never met was... strange, to say the least, but he wanted to be optimistic. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe his parents were freaking out over nothing.

Surely that was possible, right?

---

But as time went on, Theodore began to think more and more that his optimism was misplaced. Even as he got older, the talk of his eventual marriage came with awkward and sometimes angry undertones—in fact, he had overheard others complaining about the arrangement on multiple occasions. Over time, it started to wear on his own confidence. Maybe he and Sophia could learn to get along, but was it really worth it when no one else liked it? When there was so much risk?

"Ah, Theodore, my boy." Lord Patrick smiled as his now teenaged grandson walked into the bedroom. The illness that had been slowly wearing down on his health had now left him thoroughly exhausted and largely bedridden, so he was always happy when his family would come to visit him. "Why don't you come over here where I can see you better?"

Theodore nodded, obediently moving over and taking a seat in the chair the healers had placed by the bed. As he did so, Patrick made an effort to sit up straighter, so he could get a better look at the boy.

"It's so good to see you," he said, once he found a comfortable position. "How are you doing these days?"

"I'm doing well, thank you," Theodore replied.

"Good, good. And you're doing well in your studies, I hear."

"Yes, grandpapa."

"Very good. I'm very proud of you, boy." Patrick smiled at him, silent for a moment before continuing. "So what's on your mind? Or did you just want to spend time with your grandfather?"

"Well, I do like spending time with you," Theodore replied, smiling back. "And, well... I guess I've been thinking about my marriage."

"Oh? What about it?"

"I don't know, it's just... the whole thing kind of worries me," Theodore explained. "I mean... do I really need to get married?"

Patrick laughed at the question, a soft, breathless laugh. "Well, of course. Marriage is an important responsibility for nobles."

"But do I have to?" Theodore asked. "I mean, couldn't I have a different responsibly?"

"I realize that marriage can be rather intimidating. Woo knows I was nervous enough just meeting your grandmother," Patrick said with another weak chuckle. "But don't worry, it won't be so bad. I hear Lady Sophia is a very sweet young girl; I have no doubt you would get along well with her."

"I guess," Theodore admitted. "But everyone else seems unhappy about it."

"Don't worry about what other people think, Theodore. This marriage is for you to achieve something special, and for the future of House Jade," Patrick told him with a reassuring smile. "You're going to change the world, my boy. Don't forget that."

Theodore frowned. His grandfather had always told him and his siblings that, that their getting married was going to bring magic back to House Jade, and make a difference in the world. But was it really worth all of this?

"...I guess," he said instead, forcing a smile. "Thanks, grandpapa."

"Of course." Patrick gave his grandson a weak but affectionate pat on the arm. "I love you, Theodore."

"I love you, too, grandpapa."

---

It was only a few months later that Lord Patrick passed away, his illness finally overcoming him and taking him back to be with Lord Woo. A funeral was held in his honor, and all of House Jade was in mourning. Many were invited to the funeral, although some of the guests, Theodore noticed, seemed less than enthused to be there. He wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Time went on, rapidly approaching the time when the marriages Patrick had put so much meticulous thought into would come to pass—despite the pleas of some to take back the unpopular decisions of the former lord, Lord Eduard had no intention of abandoning his father's dream, at least not with the marriages already arranged.

For Theodore's part, the boy couldn't be more nervous. Talk of his arranged marriage increased in intensity the closer the time came, and it felt as if the bad greatly outweighed the good—his mother didn't like it, the servants didn't like it, House Opaline definitely didn't like it... not even Theodore himself liked it at this point.

"It just doesn't feel right," Theodore explained. "How can it be right if everyone's so upset about it?"

"I'm sorry, son. I know it's hard," Eduard offered sympathetically. "It's just, well... your grandfather had a dream."

"To bring magic back to House Jade, right?" Theodore frowned. "And make a difference in the world."

"Magic has always been an important tradition in our House," Eduard replied. "We would all love to see it brought back, but we can't do that if we don't take action."

"But is it really worth it?" Theodore asked.

"I mean... it worked for Roderick," Eduard pointed out, referring to Theodore's youngest brother—the first Jade in five generations to be born with magic. "So it must be doing something."

"...I guess," Theodore admitted.

"I'm sorry. Like I said, I know it's hard." Eduard gave a reassuring smile, but the look in his eyes was sad. "Just try to stay positive, alright?"

"...Okay," Theodore replied. "I'll try."

"That's my boy." Eduard reached over an affectionately ruffled his son's hair. "Just have faith; I'm sure everything will work out."

But Theodore wasn't so sure.

---

Try as he might, Theodore could not shake the horrible sinking feeling surrounding the prospect of his marriage to Sophia. And though he'd thought the talk with his father would help, it seemed to only make it worse—not only did he feel the marriage was wrong, but there was no way of getting out of it if it was. No matter how many times he asked, he always got the same answer: he had to do it, because it was for the greater good.

But he couldn't do it. Not when it made him feel so awful.

What if I have to run away? he wondered. What if I have to flee Solis to get away? Or Corvus, or even Kyth?

The very thought of it made him feel ill. He'd heard enough stories of what happened to people who ran away from their House—they were considered traitors to their families, to be hunted and shamed forevermore. But Theodore didn't want to do that any more than he wanted to get married. In fact, he couldn't do that.

"Is something wrong, Theo?"

Theodore looked over his shoulder to be greeted with the familiar face of his twin sister, Dorothea. She had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, and they'd always been there for each other no matter what. If he had to leave her behind, and all of his other siblings, and his parents and cousins and aunts and uncles...

"It's nothing, Dory," Theodore lied, forcing a smile. "I'm fine."

"...If you say so." Dorothea shrugged. "But I'm always here if you need to talk, alright?"

"...Yeah." Theodore nodded. "I know."

With that, Dorothea turned and left the room, only pausing briefly to look back at Theodore in concern. Theodore kept the smile on his face until she left the room, when instead he broke down and cried.

Woo help me, I don't know what to do, he thought, a shiver running down his spine. I just don't know...

---

In all honesty, he didn't know where else to go. So as his family was making the preparations for Everett's wedding to Cassandra Oberon, Theodore found himself making frequent trips to the local chapel, where he would pour out his heart in prayer for clarity of mind. He didn't want to go through with the marriage, but he didn't want to disappoint his family, either. But what else could he do?

"Is something the matter, young lord?" came a voice, distracting him from his thoughts. Theodore looked up to see that one of the priests had approached him, and was now looking down at him in concern. "You seem troubled."

"Oh, well... it's kind of complicated," Theodore admitted.

"I understand," the priest said. "And I apologize if I'm intruding. I just felt you should know I'm always available if you ever need someone to talk to."

Theodore was silent for a moment, thinking on this. And then, "Actually... would it be alright if I did?"

The priest, who was just about to turn and walk away, looked back and Theodore. "Of course, young lord. I would be happy to help how I can."

"Well, it's..." Theodore paused, glancing around the room to see that no one else was there at the moment. That should make things easier. "...I'm arranged to marry my cousin, and I'm worried about it."

"Yes, I believe I heard about that," the priest said. "What specifically about it worries you?"

"I don't know, just... all of it," Theodore replied. "It was arranged years ago, and no one seems really happy about it, but it was what my grandfather wanted, and..."

"Are you happy about it?" the priest asked.

"...No," Theodore admitted with a sigh. "I don't feel right about it at all, but... I feel like I have to do it. My grandfather always said that it was important, that I was going to make a difference by doing it."

"I see. Well, I can only offer advice; what you ultimately decide to do is up to you." The priest's expression remained neutral, presumably in an effort to not show any bias one way or the other. "But I think you need to really seek the Woo and determine what your true calling in life is, rather than relying on what other people tell you it should be."

Theodore frowned. "But... if my grandfather was wrong, what do I do? My father won't cancel the wedding, and I don't want to run away..."

"Have faith, young lord," the priest told him with a reassuring smile. "Lord Woo will always provide a way for you, even if it's one you hadn't thought of before."

Theodore was silent for a moment, thinking on this. "...I'll remember that," he said eventually. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome." The priest nodded. "As I said, I'm always here to help if you need me."

"I appreciate that, thank you."

---

Theodore took those words to heart. That night, just before bed, he found himself turning to the Book of Woo, skimming through the familiar passages in hopes to find answers.

If thou art willing, please guide me this night, he prayed silently. Show me the way you wish me to go.

After several minutes of prayerful searching, Theodore found himself drawn to a particular verse in the Book of Wisdom. It was a verse he had read many times before, but there was something about it this time that stood out to him.

"Ye who are lost must seek the path of light, for therein is found peace and true joy."

He read the words over and over, taking the time to really soak them in and think about them. After a moment, he looked up to an old tapestry that hung on the wall, depicting Saint Nephrite preaching to the ancient Jades. It was his favorite tapestry, his favorite story.

And then, all at once, he had a moment of clarity.

I know what I need to do, he thought to himself.

---

"May Lord Woo bless you in sickness and in health, for better and for worse..."

Lord Eduard Jade smiled proudly at his son standing at the altar, opposite from his lovely bride. After all the meticulous planning his father had gone through to make this happen, it was nice to see it all coming together at last.

"I hope it will all be worth it," his wife Eleanor remarked from the seat beside him.

"I think it will be," Eduard replied, smiling as the couple exchanged rings and vows. "They look so happy together."

"They really do. They're a lovely couple," Eleanor agreed. "Our son has really matured well, hasn't he?"

Eduard nodded. "He really has."

"In the eyes of Lord Woo, you are now lawfully wed," the priest said, once the vows had been exchanged. "You may now kiss the bride."

The couple kissed, and the crowd broke into polite applause. The priest smiled, waiting for them to end the kiss before continuing.

"May these vows never be broken," he said, "and may Lord Woo keep you safe under his wings forever. Amen."

"Amen," Everett echoed, smiling as he looked across the altar at his now wife, Cassandra. Seeing her standing there, smiling back at him, he knew this was going to be the start of something wonderful.

---

After the wedding ceremony had been completed, everyone was relocated to the gardens outside Jade Manor, where a lovely reception had been set up for everyone to enjoy. While many of the assorted wedding guests were congratulating the bride and groom, Lord Eduard himself decided to stop by the refreshment table, helping himself to a glass of freshly squeezed fruit juice.

"Father?"

Eduard looked up at the sound of the voice, smiling upon seeing the familiar face of his second son. "Ah, Theodore. I think the ceremony really came together nicely, don't you?"

"It was very nice," Theodore agreed. "And Everett seems really happy with Lady Cassandra."

Eduard nodded. "He does. I'm glad for it." He smiled and clapped his son on the shoulder. "Sorry, I suppose I interrupted you. What's on your mind?"

"Well, it's... I've been thinking long and hard about it, and..." Theodore took a deep breath to calm himself. Here went nothing. "...I want to be a priest."

Eduard did a double take, clearly surprised by the news. "A priest?"

"Yes," Theodore replied. "Grandfather always said that I could make a difference in the world. Well... I think I can. I want to help people find their purpose in life, and bring them to the Woo."

"You feel very strongly about this, don't you?" Eduard asked.

Theodore nodded. "I do. I think... I feel this is what Lord Woo wants me to do."

"Well, I certainly can't argue with Lord Woo," Eduard said, chancing a slight chuckle. "But this is a huge decision, Theodore. I'd have to speak with your mother about it, and..." He trailed off, glancing in the direction of their guests from House Opaline.

"...I wouldn't be getting married, no," Theodore finished for him. "So we would have to cancel the arrangement with House Opaline."

Eduard was silent, clearly having mixed thoughts about this. Theodore could feel his heart pounding with nervousness, praying silently that this would work. There was no denying that he was trying to get out of the marriage—he knew now with his whole soul that it was a bad idea—but he didn't want to cause conflict with his family, either. If his father agreed to this plan, the whole ordeal would end peacefully as he'd hoped. But if he didn't...

Finally, the smile returned to Eduard's face, and he patted his son on the back. "I'll talk to your mother about it, alright? We'll see what we can work out."

Theodore would have breathed a sigh of relief, but he knew it wasn't a done deal yet. There was still the chance that his mother would say no, or House Opaline, or even that his father would change his mind. But at least he was considering it, which was a good sign.

"Thank you, father," he said with a smile.

"Of course," Eduard replied. Then he stepped away from Theodore, pausing to refill his glass of juice. "Well, I suppose I'd best go talk to your mother, then. Why don't you help yourself to some of these great refreshments?"

"Sure. They look delicious," Theodore agreed, helping himself to his own glass of juice.

With that, Eduard went on his way, off to find where his wife had gotten off to. Theodore, meanwhile, sampled the juice as he tried to relax. Yes, everything would work out somehow. He just had to have faith.

---

But of course, there was really no reason for Theodore to worry, as both Eleanor and House Opaline were quick to agree—even Eduard himself, though a little uncertain at first, was ultimately convinced, resulting in a unanimous agreement that the wedding would be cancelled. In just a few weeks, Theodore went from being arranged to marry his cousin to arriving at Solis' own Holy Cathedral of Lord Woo to begin priest training.

Theodore was a natural. He had a kind heart and a deep love for Lord Woo, so he always performed his duties with great care and devotion. Plus, thanks to his great storytelling skills, he quickly learned how to give compelling, inspirational sermons—especially when he got to talk about Saint Nephrite, which had always been his favorite story.

Most of all, he didn't even have to leave his family behind. Because he had been allowed to stay in Solis, he still was able to keep in touch with them, attending their weddings and even visiting on his off-time. His parents and siblings still loved and respected him, something he knew wouldn't have happened if he had simply run away.

He didn't know what would have happened if he had married Sophia, and frankly, he didn't care to know. But he did know that he was happy with the way things had turned out.

Thank you, he thought, gazing up at one of the many stained glass images of Lord Woo in the cathedral. I couldn't have done this without you.

[PFA]

Hey look, it's a fic that's been in the works for way too long! This fic takes place down the rabbithole of Medieval history, between 1191 and 1209. Introducing Everett's great-great grandfather, Abram Jade!

Legacy - Part 1

SPOILER: Click to show

"Abram?"

The blond haired youth perked up at the sound of his name, looking up toward the voice with curious green eyes. There, standing in the doorway, was his father—Lord Michael of House Jade, a stately man who bore a strong family resemblance to his son, save his darker brown hair. Next to him was his wife and Abram's mother, Lady Cynthia, a lovely woman with silky blonde hair and golden brown eyes.

Young Abram immediately dropped the book he was looking at, turning to face them. "What is it, papa?"

Lord Michael smiled warmly, striding into the room. "Abram," he said, "we've decided that you're old enough for magic lessons."

The boy's eyes lit up at this. "Magic lessons?"

"That's right," Michael said with a nod. "We'll get you a wand tomorrow morning, and then you can meet with a magic tutor for lessons. Aren't you excited?"

Abram was very excited. He had been looking forward to this day ever since he was little—he would get a wand, and he would learn to cast spells, and he'd get to be just like papa and grandpa and all the Jade Lords before them. He smiled broadly, bowing gratefully. "I'll work really hard. I'll be the best student!"

Michael chuckled, reaching over and ruffling his son's hair. "That's my boy. I know you'll be great; it's in your blood, after all."

"Just don't work yourself too hard," cautioned Lady Cynthia. "You don't want to wear yourself out, especially not with magic."

"I won't," Abram assured her, before smiling up at Michael again. "And I won't let you down, papa!"

"I'm sure you won't, son." Michael smiled back at him. "At any rate, I just wanted to make sure you were prepared. The wand craftsman will be here tomorrow morning—you can meet with him after breakfast. Okay?"

"Okay!"

With that, his parents turned and left the room, leaving Abram to his studies, and to ponder the news. It wasn't until the two of them were out of earshot that Lady Cynthia allowed the smile she had forced onto her face to fade, looking up at her husband with a concerned frown.

"Michael, I'm not so sure about this," she said, softly, in case Abram could still hear them.

"We've been over this, dear," Michael replied simply. "Just because we haven't seen the signs—"

"He's seven years old. His magic should have manifested by now," Cynthia pointed out. "Giving him a tutor won't change anything if he simply doesn't have magic."

"He must have magic. He's born of Jade blood, after all," Michael insisted. "Perhaps the signs were there, and we just didn't see them. I'm certain proper lessons will be able to coax it out of him."

Cynthia was silent for a moment, before letting out a sigh. "I pray that you're right, Michael..."

---

The next morning, Abram ate breakfast in a hurry, eager to get a head start on his first magic lessons. He was excited to learn, to follow in the footsteps of his predecessors and hopefully become a great mage. He was going to do his very best, and he would make papa proud!

"I'm all done with breakfast!" Abram remarked proudly.

Michael chuckled, swallowing down a bite of food. "Easy there, son. The wand craftsman isn't even here yet."

Abram made a pouting face for a moment, before smiling again and nodding resolutely. "It's okay, I can wait! I'll show patience, just like the Woo teaches."

"Good on you, Abram," Michael said with a smile. "Don't worry, though, you don't have to wait much longer."

Abram nodded enthusiastically, plopping down in a nearby chair and waiting as patiently as he could. As he waited, he couldn't help but ponder what it would be like when he got a wand. What kind of wand would he get? What spells would he get to learn? The more he thought about it, the more excited he got.

Thankfully, Michael was right, and they didn't have to wait for long. It was only a short time after they'd finished breakfast that the wand craftsman arrived—he was an elderly man with a shaggy gray beard, dressed in plain gray merchants' clothes. He carried a heavy pack with him, loaded with a variety of wand-making materials.

"Son, this is Master Oakhart," Michael told Abram, gesturing to the man. "Master Oakhart, this is my son, Abram."

"It's nice to meet you, Master Oakhart," Abram said.

"It's an honor to meet you, as well, Lord Abram." Master Oakhart gave a small bow, looking down at the boy with kindly blue eyes. "You're going to receive a wand all your own today. Are you excited?"

"Yes, sir!" Abram replied with a cheerful nod. "I can't wait to be a mage!"

"Haha... yes, of course." Oakhart looked briefly confused at the phrasing, but decided not to question it. "Now then, we have to figure out what kind of wand is right for you. Let's find a nice place to sit, shall we?"

"We can use one of the sitting rooms," Michael suggested, starting toward one of the hallways. "This way, please."

The others followed after Michael, moving through the hallways toward the nearest sitting room. Along the way, Oakhart couldn't help but admire the scenery, taking note especially of the beautiful green and gold tapestries that lined the wall.

"I must say, this is a very beautiful building," he remarked. Gesturing to one of the tapestries, he added, "I really like the detail on this one."

"Thank you. That one has been in the Jade family for many generations now," Michael explained. "We take great care to have them preserved."

"It depicts the feast of Saint Omer," Abram added. "When he delivered the people from a great famine."

"Yes, Abram, that's right." Michael smiled down at his son. "Our ancestors commissioned a widely renowned weaver of the time to make that for us, I believe."

"I see. Very impressive." Oakhart nodded. "Especially with how old it is. How often do you get new tapestries, then?"

"Well, we do have to replace the older ones now and then," Michael replied with a shrug. "Even with our best preservation techniques, nothing lasts forever, unfortunately."

"Too true. But it does make sense," Oakhart agreed. "Either way, it's certainly shows how much love and care goes into this place."

"Thank you, we do try. At any rate..." Michael stopped at a door, a servant pulling it open for him to allow them entry. "We're here."

If the hallways of Jade Manor were nice, the sitting room was at least twice as nice, with fine velvet furniture arrayed in the signature green and gold of House Jade. Oakhart was still admiring the murals on the walls as he and the others took their seats—Michael and Cynthia sat together on one sofa, while Abram was seated next to Oakhart, looking up at the man with bright, eager eyes.

"My, my, what a beautiful place," Oakhart remarked again, giving a relaxed sigh as he settled into the sofa. "And very relaxing, too."

"We're glad it is to your liking," Michael said with a nod.

"Now then, I suppose we have business to get to, don't we?" Oakhart smiled, glancing down at Abram warmly. "Before we get started, I'd like to know a bit more about you. What can you tell me about yourself, young Lord Abram?"

"Well, I always try to work super hard on my studies, and I always say my prayers," Abram told him. "I know I'm gonna be Lord of Corvus when I grow up, so I want to be the best I can be!"

"He does work very hard," Michael confirmed, in case there was any doubt to the boy's honesty. "He's always been very devoted to his studies."

"Good, very good. That's a good thing to hear from an upcoming heir." Oakhart nodded. "You say you always say your prayers. So do you follow the Woo's teachings, then?"

"I try to," Abram replied. "It's not easy always doing the right thing, because sometimes you really want to do the wrong thing. But I always feel better when I'm nice and do as the Woo teaches, so I try to do it more often."

Oakhart smiled at this. It was easy to see that young Lord Abram was an honest, genuine young boy—indeed very promising qualities for a future Lord of House Jade. "That's very good of you, Lord Abram," he said. "What about hobbies? What do you like to do for fun?"

"Well, when I'm not doing studies or anything, I like to do crafts," was Abram's answer. "I like making things."

"Is that so?" Oakhart chuckled, reaching for his bag. "In that case, would you like to see how wands are made?"

Abram nodded enthusiastically. "I'd love to!"

With that, Oakhart pulled an assortment of materials out of his bag, Abram admiring them with interest. The wooden shell of the wand was separated into two halves, with small notches on the edges so they could be slotted together. And of course, there was a gap in the middle for the wand core, which was the next thing that Oakhart brought out—several small sacks of materials from various animals, from bird feathers to predator fangs. And finally, there was a sack full of crystals, ready to be fastened onto the tip of the wand as needed.

"Each mage receives a wand made from a particular wood, core, and sometimes a crystal, depending on what is best suited to them," Oakhart explained. Showing him the wood pieces, he added, "These are meant to be assembled and disassembled as needed, so we can find what combination works best for you. Then once we find it, the wand will be permanently sealed together."

"That's so cool," Abram remarked, gingerly picking up one of the wood pieces so he could get a better look at it. "What kind of wood is this?"

"That's aspen wood," Oakhart replied. "It's a very fine wood, used by some of the most elite of mages. But I think this one—" He presented Abram with a brilliant, golden-colored wood. "—Might be more to your liking."

"What is it?" Abram asked, carefully taking the wood from Oakhart. "It's really pretty."

"That wood comes from a pear tree," Oakhart told him. "I find that wands made from pear wood are best suited for the kind and pure of heart."

"Oooh." Abram smiled at this, weighing the wood in his hands. "Do you mean me?"

Oakhart chuckled at this. "Yes, Lord Abram, I do mean you. I can see that you're a very sweet boy; I'm sure your parents are very proud." He glanced up at Michael and Cynthia, confirming that they were both wearing pleased smiles.

Abram's eyes lit up at the words, but at the same time he gave a bashful smile. "I mean, I do try to be good."

"Now for a core..." Oakhart sifted through his collection of wand cores, before selecting the one he wanted. "Beavers are some of the hardest working creatures in the animal kingdom, so a core of beaver fur is ideal for a dedicated, hardworking young mage."

Abram's smile broadened as he handed the pear wood back to Oakhart, allowing him to carefully place the fur in the gap inside the wand. Once he was satisfied, he slid the two wand halves together, making sure they were securely in place. Once he had confirmed this, he examined the wand for a moment thoughtfully, before handing it back to Abram.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"I like it," Abram said, smiling as he admired the newly assembled wand. "Do I get a crystal on the top like mama's?"

"Hm, you're right, I think it could use a crystal," Oakhart agreed, reaching for his bag of crystals. Again, he sorted through them for a moment, before finding one he liked. "Yes, I think this is a good fit."

Once again, Abram handed the wand back to Oakhart, allowing him to fasten a beautiful purple crystal onto the end of it. When he was done, he handed it back to the young lord, who eagerly accepted it, admiring the gemstone and the way it sparkled in the light.

"That crystal is an amethyst," Oakhart told him. "Amethysts are said to be calming crystals that promote spirituality and emotional balance."

"It's really pretty. I really like the color," Abram remarked, admiring the crystal for a while longer. Then his smile broadened, turning his attention to the rest of the wand. This was his wand, made specially for him. "I love it!"

"I think it's a good match for you, young lord," Oakhard said with a smile. "Try casting a spell, see how it feels."

"Okay!" Abram nodded. And then, "How do I do that?"

"Just whatever spell you've done before is fine," Oakhart replied.

"But I haven't done any spells."

There was a pause, all of the adults in the room looking distinctly uncomfortable. Abram frowned, looking up at their uncertain expressions. Had he said something wrong?

"Surely you've done some magic," Oakhart spoke carefully. "Changing colors, creating light...?"

Abram shook his head, starting to feel uncomfortable, himself. "No, I haven't."

"...I see..." Oakhart glanced questioningly up at Abram's parents, who shifted awkwardly under his gaze. Michael cleared his throat, standing up and pulling out his own wand.

"Er, perhaps try another simple spell," he offered, kneeling beside Abram so he could better demonstrate to the boy. He briefly explained the basics of spellcasting, then demonstrated with a flick of his wand and an uttered, "Woomos!" The tip of his wand started to glow with a bright light, and he held it out demonstratively. "Now you try it."

Abram nodded, following his father's lead—he focussed his energy, tried to picture the runes in his mind... then flicked his wand, repeating, "Woomos!"

But nothing happened. Abram frowned, giving it a few more tries, but to no avail—there was not so much as a flicker from the boy's wand, no matter how hard he tried. Oakhart and Cynthia both glanced at Michael skeptically, but Michael just grinned nervously. This couldn't be as bad as it looked, right?

"Ah, perhaps he needs a different wand?" Michael suggested, looking up at Oakhart hopefully.

"...Perhaps," Oakhart replied, holding out a hand to take the wand back. Abram dejectedly handed it over, allowing Oakhart to swap it out for some different materials. Once he was satisfied, he handed it back. "Try that one, young lord."

"I'll do it this time, I promise," Abram insisted. He adjusted his grip on the new wand, then flicked it again, chanting, "Woomos!"

But still nothing happened. No matter how many wand variations they tried, Abram could not get so much as a spark to emit from his wand. By the time Oakhart had run out of wand materials to try, his brow was furrowed in concern.

"Lord Michael, Lady Cynthia," he spoke carefully, "is it alright if I speak with you in private for a moment?"

"Ah... yes, of course," Michael replied, his forced smile faltering slightly. Turning to Abram, he added, "Abram, you can just, um... keep at that, I suppose."

"No, he doesn't need to do that," Cynthia added, glancing pointedly at Michael for a moment. "You can stop now, Abram. It's fine."

Abram frowned, looking up at his parents in concern. "But—"

Michael sighed, pinching his brow. "Just do what you want, Abram. We'll be back in a moment."

With that, his parents and Master Oakhart left him without another word. Abram felt his hands shaking, still clutched onto the wand Oakhart had given him. They were trying not to upset him, but he could tell what the issue was here—it was him. He couldn't even cast a simple spell; he was a terrible mage, and his parents were clearly disappointed in him.

Tears were clouding the boy's vision as he threw down the wand in a fit of frustration, running out of the room.

---

"...I'm sorry, my lord, but it would appear that Lord Abram simply isn't a mage."

Michael exhaled deeply, massaging his forehead as he tried to take this in. House Jade's magic had been fading for generations—even Michael himself barely qualified as a proper mage, which was a drastic difference from the famously powerful Jades of old. But for Abram to not have magic at all...

"This... this has never happened," he muttered. "House Jade's leaders have always been mages."

"I'm sorry, my lord," Oakhart offered sympathetically. "If I could change the circumstances, I would, but—"

"It's not your fault. You've done everything you could—and for that, I thank you." Michael straightened himself, letting out a sigh. "I just... I don't know what this means for House Jade. Abram is my only heir..."

"How are we going to tell him?" Cynthia frowned. "He really wanted to be a mage. He'll be devastated..."

"...I suppose I'll have to talk to him," Michael said. Turning to Oakhart, he added, "But... thank you. For trying."

"Of course, my lord." The man bowed respectfully. "I hope all goes well. Woo be with you."

"Thank you. You as well," Michael replied, before turning and leaving the room. Though inwardly, he had to wonder—did the Woo mean to tell them something with this? Had House Jade done wrong? He didn't know why they would be punished; they'd been nothing but devoted...

He pushed these thoughts aside, instead pondering what he would say to Abram. Cynthia was right; the poor child had always dreamed of following in the footsteps of his predecessors and becoming a mage, but a situation outside of their control meant that he would never be able to do that. How would he feel?

"Abram..." he started, as he stepped back into the sitting room where Abram was waiting... only to be surprised when he wasn't there. Michael frowned. Where could he have gone?

He started down the hall on his search for the missing boy, asking servants along the way if they had seen him. Ultimately, his search brought him to the door of Abram's room, where he indeed could hear the faint sound of Abram's sobs. Michael's stomach clenched. The poor boy must have been so disappointed already, and now he had to break this news to him... but alas, what had to be done had to be done, regardless of how unpleasant it was.

Taking a deep breath, Michael knocked. "Abram?"

There was the faint sound of voices—multiple voices—from within the room, which confused Michael at first. However, the confusion faded as soon as the door was opened, with one of their advisors on the other side.

"Hello, my lord. I didn't mean to intrude," the advisor said immediately. "But Lord Abram seemed rather upset, and I thought I'd offer comfort."

"It's quite alright, Peter," Michael replied, giving a faint smile in amusement. It hardly surprised him—as soon as they'd hired the elven advisor a few years ago, young Abram became quite attached, becoming fast friends with Peter. But Michael's smile soon faded, remembering what he had come here for. "However, I do need to speak with him for a moment. Privately, preferably."

Peter gave a respectful bow. "Of course, my lord."

"Does he have to leave?" came Abram's voice, from the spot where he was hunched on his bed.

"You can talk to me afterward, alright?" Peter offered, sending him a warm smile. "I'll be here."

Abram sniffed, wiping a tear from his eye. "...Okay."

As Peter closed the door behind him, Michael bit his lip, moving to take a seat on the bed beside Abram. But before he could think of what to say, Abram spoke up. "I-I'm a failure, right?" he guessed, voice cracking. "I couldn't... I couldn't even cast a spell."

"You're not a failure, Abram," Michael assured him, absentmindedly combing his fingers through the boy's hair. "It's just... magic is a skill you must be born with, and some people... well, they aren't."

"But... you said it's in my blood," Abram pointed out. "You said Jades are a-always mages."

Michael winced. "...I know I said that, but... sometimes even grown-ups turn out to be wrong."

"What if I worked extra hard?" Abram asked. "Maybe I just... maybe I didn't do it right. Isn't that possible?"

"I only wish it were that easy, son," Michael replied sadly. "I'm sorry, Abram, but... it looks like you may never be a mage after all."

Abram fell silent, only sniveling softly as he tried to accept this information. Michael frowned, carefully wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders in a feeble attempt to offer comfort. After a moment, Abram whimpered, nestling into his father's shoulder and soaking it with his tears.

Legacy - Part 2 (collab with Shinko!)

SPOILER: Click to show

It was a troubling omen for House Jade. They had always been seen as a pillar in the magic society, birthing some of the most powerful mages in the kingdom—for an heir to the House to have no magic at all was entirely unheard of. However, Abram was Michael's only son, and Michael's only brother who survived to adulthood was frail and without child. With no other worthy heirs, they could only press onward.

But it was a very dangerous move to make. If word were to get around that the Jades had lost their magic, especially to their enemies... it could be detrimental to them. And so, they determined that they would have to keep it a secret.

Abram was given a wand of his own anyway, although an entirely ornamental one rather than one of any actual use. They also still had him take magic lessons—even if he couldn't use the techniques, they decided, he may as well learn all he could about them. After all, to the rest of the world, Abram was a perfectly competent mage... and with any luck, no one would ever have to assume otherwise.

"Do I have to do this?" asked Abram, now sixteen years old, awkwardly adjusting his wand holster.

"I'm sorry, son. I know you don't like it," Michael replied with a frown. "But you know how important it is to present a good image."

"I know, but... what if they ask about it? What if they expect me to do magic?" Abram wondered. "I'm not a very good liar."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out. I have good faith in you." Michael smiled encouragingly at him. "You're a smart boy. You'll do fine."

Abram smiled faintly back at him. "Thanks, Father."

He bid his final farewells to his family, before climbing into the carriage bound for Heleos. Once everyone was settled, the carriage lurched forward, and Abram took deep breaths to try and calm himself. It was just some business with House Escalus, and not even important business. There was no reason for them to ask him about his magic, and even if they did, he had been trained on what to say. There was no reason to worry; everything would be fine.

"It's alright to be nervous, you know," came a voice, sitting across from him in the carriage. Abram looked up to see his good friend Peter smiling back at him reassuringly. "It is your first diplomatic trip, after all."

"I guess," Abram admitted, smiling sheepishly back at him. "I'm just... I really don't want to mess this up, you know?"

"I'm sure you won't mess up. You've worked hard for this," Peter assured him. "And of course, I'm here to help you if you need it."

"Thanks. I appreciate that." Abram shifted positions, turning so he could look out the window. "You've been to Heleos before, haven't you? What's it like?"

"I went once with your father, yes," Peter replied. "It's not a bad place, a bit warmer than Solis. Most of what I remember was..."

The two of them continued to talk on the way down, which Abram was glad for—this would have been so much worse if he had to go alone, but at least there was a friend coming with him to help him and keep him company. It didn't completely quell all of his fears, but it did help him to relax.

It took them a few days of travel before they finally arrived in Heleos. Lord Ionas Escalus, a forty-nine year old man with silver-flecked dark brown hair eyes like the stormy Corvid sky was waiting at the gate of Escalus Manor to greet the young Jade, his forked beard giving his face a look of distinguished age and wisdom. At his side, his hair a much fairer shade of dirty blonde, stood Ionas' twenty-one year old heir, Petros.

"Lord Abram, it has been some time," Ionas said, giving a polite bow as Abram emerged from his carriage. "And Advisor Peter as well! I bid both of you a most sincere welcome to Heleos."

"It's good to see you, Lord Ionas. Lord Petros." Abram nodded to the two Escalus lords, hoping that he was remembering their names correctly. No one had moved to correct him, so that was probably a good sign.

Peter, meanwhile, offered a respectful bow. "It's our honor to be here, Lords Escalus."

"How has your family been faring?" Abram asked.

"Good, good," Ionas replied, smiling serenely. "We've almost ironed out all of the details for a match between Petros and Lady Ida Lazuli." He gave his heir a sideways look and smiled. "It is my hope to have the wedding take place sometime late next year, once Petros has completed his tenure at the Institute."

The younger Escalus went a little pink. As if determined to change the topic from his impending marriage, he cleared his throat and asked, "And how are things in Solis, Lord Jade?"

"Things are well, thank you," Abram said, realizing with the topic that it was only a matter of time before his own marriage arrangements would be made. But that was something to worry about as it came.

"Good to hear," Ionas said. "I imagine it has been quite a long journey for you and your companion-" here he nodded politely to Peter, "So shall we go inside and discuss the issue at hand?"

"Yes, that sounds good," Abram agreed.

Ionas raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Cat got your tongue, young man? No need to be nervous, I promise we don't bite." He turned gesturing for his heir and the Jade party to follow.

"S-sorry. I guess I am a little nervous," Abram admitted with an awkward smile, following after Ionas. "This is my first time doing a diplomatic visit."

"Father likes to tease, don't mind him," Petros put in, shooting his father a stern glare.

"I assure you, as with all things, diplomacy comes with practice," Ionas replied mildly, his smile unwavering. They had reached the entrance to the manor by this point, and the Escalus lord led the way into a small formal meeting room. "Now then, to business- as I'm sure you were informed, we've been having some... difficulties as of late. So as not to make myself unnecessarily redundant, I'd like to go over how much you already know of the situation."

Abram paused, trying to recall all of what his father told him. "The Kineans passed a new law regarding trade," he spoke slowly, "and you'd like to contest it?"

"That's the framework yes," Ionas replied. "The longer version is that occasionally when contraband shows up in our markets, we'll have our knights inspect a trader's goods before allowing them market space. Not all the time, that would be far too great a waste in resources, but if we have reason to suspect something untoward." He tapped a finger on his desk. "But it seems that recently Kinean traders have appealed to their lords for protection, calling us popping open a few crates to make sure they do in fact contain cucumbers and not, say, opium, a 'gross invasion of privacy.' The Kinean lords backed them up."

"And they didn't even ask you about this?" Abram asked.

"Not so much as a word," Petros replied, his arms crossed. "The traders simply showed our knights a paper signed by Lord Dexter-" this was the Kinean minor noble immediately neighboring Escalus lands, "and it was the first I'd heard of the matter."

Abram frowned at this. "Aren't laws like that supposed to be agreed upon by all involved parties?"

"That usually is proper etiquette, yes," Peter agreed.

"So then I'm here because you wanted House Jade's help in appealing to the Kinean lords, right?" Abram guessed.

"That is the gist of things, yes my lord," Ionas replied. "Since we have no authority over their decisions, we were hoping the Jades might be willing to speak to Lord Booveen on the subject."

"Perhaps you should like to speak with the merchants here as well?" Petros put in. "You can get a copy of the writ from one of them, and hear their side of the story before you talk to Lord Michael about appealing to the Booveens."

"I could do that, yes," Abram said with a nod. "And if I could get a copy of that document, that would help."

"Excellent, Lord Jade." Ionas said, looking a great deal more cheerful. "For the time being perhaps you and your companion should like to rest from your journey? I have some iced tea and ginger soup prepared if you would like to enjoy our gardens for a while..."

The following day, the party of Jades and Escaluses left the manor to visit the marketplace. It wasn't as busy as it could have been, the day being yet young, but already there were merchants out on the street plying their wares. Eventually the party of nobles, with their accompanying knights, arrived at the wagon train of a group of Kinean traders. When they saw the knights, they went tense almost immediately, one fellow who seemed to be a leader coming out to greet the men.

"Are ya here to search us again? I already told ya that we have Lord Dexter's protection, so stop harassing us already! This is discrimination, it is!"

"We just wanted a word, gentlemen, that's all," Ionas remarked, his voice pleasant. "My Lord Abram Jade was curious to hear about this new law of yours."

The merchant instantly went pale. "J... J-Jade?"

Abram nodded, stepping forward so the merchant could see him in his full green and gold livery. "I was told you have a document signed by Lord Dexter. Would it be alright if I had a look?"

"Of... of course," the merchant replied, visibly quailing. He bellowed to one of his fellows, and a moment later the man trotted up with a scroll, offering it to Abram. "There it is m'lord. Sealed with the stamp of House Dexter and all."

"Thank you," Abram said, accepting the scroll gratefully. He immediately gave it a look over, reading the text carefully. It definitely read like a legal document and, as the merchants had described, gave the merchants protection against searches by Corvid officials, complete with Lord Dexter's signature.

Abram frowned, glancing over his shoulder at Peter. "I don't know, what do you think?"

"Me?" Peter quirked an eyebrow, accepting the scroll from Abram so he could have a better look. After a few moments of scrutiny, he remarked, "I'd say Lord Dexter has remarkably clean penmanship."

"I'd imagine that it was written by the lord's scribe," Ionas remarked with a shrug. "It would have to be in a clean hand."

"Perhaps so," Peter admitted, "though his signature is surprisingly legible, as well."

"...Really? Let me see that..." Abram accepted the scroll back from Peter, taking another close look. As Peter had indicated, the handwriting was very clear and precise, likely the work of a professional scribe. And Lord Dexter's signature seemed to have been crafted with at least as much care—perhaps more so than the rest of the document, even.

Abram's brow furrowed as he glanced back up at the merchants. "...Are we sure that Lord Dexter wrote this document at all?"

The merchant scoffed. "Of course he did. That's his seal in the wax, isn't it?"

"It is," Ionas agreed. "But it would be quite easy to copy the seal elsewhere and make a mold."

"By Woo, this really is discrimination! You're digging for any reason you can think of to rifle through our belongings!"

"Or maybe you're digging for any reason you can think of to hide something you don't want us to know," Abram replied. "I think we'd best ask Lord Dexter about this to be sure."

"You know what? Fine," the man snapped, sweating now. "If you are so blighted determined to search us despite Kinean laws, then search us! I promise you won't find anything!"

"We'll see," Ionas replied coldly, clearly furious. He gave a curt nod to the knights, who quickly spread out amongst the stalls. The nobles drifted amongst them, observing impassively as one box after another was prised open, its contents examined, and then replaced.

One of the knights suddenly, looking around and spotting Abram standing nearby. "My lord!" he called. "A moment of your time, if I may?"

Abram, who had since rolled up the scroll and pocketed it, walked up to the knight. "What is it?"

He gestured at a small, innocuous looking crate that had been sandwiched between several larger ones, so that it had almost been overlooked. "Something's up about this one, my lord. I can't seem to prise it open with my lever. In fact, I can't even get any purchase." He attempted to put a prybar into the top of the lid, but it kept sliding off as if it were missing the gap between the lid and the crate. "I think there might be magic on it, Lord Jade- I hoped you might be able to check."

Abram froze to the spot, his blood running cold. Magic. He knew they were going to ask him about magic, though he was beginning to hope they wouldn't. He'd made it this far, he was doing so well, and now suddenly he was being put on the spot for something he couldn't do.

"Oh, um..." he mumbled, not sure what to do. What could he do? His father would be devastated if he told the truth, but Abram didn't know how to lie his way out of performing what should have been a very simple spell. And if he stood there in uncertain silence much longer, the knight would get suspicious...

Peter, who had overheard the conversation, promptly came up behind Abram with a furrowed brow. "A magic crate, you say? I'd think Lord Escalus should take a look at this."

"Yes... yes, I think you're right," Abram agreed carefully. "After all this trouble, I'm sure he'd like to see for himself what these people are trying to hide."

"Are you certain, my lord?" the knight asked tentatively. "If it's nothing..."

"Either way, I think Lord Escalus deserves to find out for himself," Abram said.

The knight still looked a little confused, but he knew better than to question a nobleman a second time. He quickly trotted over to Ionas, who approached a moment later, the merchant following him and looking absolutely green.

"So this is the one?" he asked the knight. At the other man's nod, the lord tapped his wand to the box, muttering an incantation, and a with a flare of light runes appeared in the air over the box. "Hm. Repelling runes, a stickfast charm, a locking spell... what exactly are we hiding in here?"

"I... I s-still have Lord Dexter's decree!" the man said, his voice high.

"I thought you said you didn't care if we did a search?" Abram questioned, still trying to calm his own nerves after the encounter with the knight.

"W-well, I... I mean..." The merchant sputtered.

With a sneer, Ionas tapped his wand to the box again, and it flew open. Inside were several small bags of powder- various herbal mixes, used in powerful potions and requiring extensive permits to own because of their toxicity- and at the very bottom, a small gold ring bearing the seal of House Dexter.

"Well, now that looks familiar," Peter remarked, gesturing to the ring with a wry smile. "You fellows didn't strike me as the type to be affiliated with House Dexter."

"Nor as the type to be carrying those types of materials," Abram added, crossing his arms. "Care to explain?"

The merchant looked towards his cohorts frantically, but they were all as pale and terrified looking as he was. Turning back towards the nobles he stammered, "Ya don't understand m'lord, our families are poor and sick and hungry. We need money! And the special potion mixes sell for a mint! We weren't doing anything untoward with 'em, just selling!"

Ionas scowled. "Selling to people shady enough to buy opium, peyote, and cannabis from a vegetable merchant. I think we've seen enough, wouldn't you say Lord Jade?"

"I couldn't agree more," Abram replied. "We're definitely going to want to talk to Lord Dexter about this."

With that, the merchants were promptly arrested and sent back to House Dexter to be tried for their crimes. And hefty crimes they were—not just peddling illegal goods, but stealing Lord Dexter's signet ring and forging his signature. In a way, Abram couldn't help but feel sorry for them. If their families really needed the money, there were much better options than resorting to a life of crime.

"I'd say that went rather well," Peter remarked, once the whole ordeal was done with and the Jade party was on its way back to Solis. "I'd say you handled yourself like a mature nobleman, Lord Abram."

"Thanks. I did my best." Abram smiled sheepishly, pausing for a moment before adding, "And thank you. For helping."

"Of course. That's what they hired me for, after all," Peter replied, smiling back at him. "But I am glad I could be of help."

"Yeah," Abram agreed. "Especially with..." He hesitated for a moment, smile fading. "...Especially with the magic thing."

Peter's smile softened. "Again, that's what I'm here for. I'm glad I could help."

"I just... it's so hard," Abram admitted with a sigh. "Having to lie like this. I'm still not sure he really believed me."

"You're an honest man, Abram. It's hard for you to lie, even if it is for the greater good," Peter told him. "But don't worry about it. Even if he does suspect something, it's unlikely anything will ever come of it."

Abram was silent for a while, thinking on this. Finally, he gave another sigh, smiling faintly. "I guess you're right. Thanks."

Peter nodded. "Anytime, my friend."

Legacy - Part 3 (collab with Celestial and Avery)

SPOILER: Click to show

Time went on. Abram became more and more comfortable with his duties over time, and was shaping up to be a worthy heir for House Jade. At age twenty one, he was married to Lady Camilla Ophid, and together they had a healthy baby boy just a year later—a boy who would someday be the Lord of House Jade, himself.

Lord Michael was pleased, seeing the man his son was growing up to become. He was confident that his legacy would be left in capable hands, despite Abram's lack of magic—not that anyone suspected anything amiss, as Abram gave the perfect illusion of being a mage, as a Jade Lord was expected to be. In fact, Michael was confident enough to leave Abram in Solis to manage the estate as Michael himself went to Kyth's capital of Medieville to attend the funeral of King Parrot Ascension.

It was a solemn occasion, with all the Kythian high lords in attendance to mourn their dead king. Or most of them anyway: the Grand Duke of Bern, Agrippa of House Stallion, could not attend. The reason was never made explicitly clear but enough rumours had been circulating for most people to understand what was going on: the once-intelligent Grand Duke was now a trembling, gibbering madman. In his place, Agrippa had sent his heir.

His piercing eyes, lean build and sharp features had earned him the nickname of "hawk" from his family, and looking at the way he scanned the crowd it was easy to see why. He had had dealings with the other Kythian lords even since his father had began to show the first symptoms of his illness but this was the first time he had ever met with them all at the same time in the same room. Each one earned an intense, assessing stare from the Duke but none more so than Lord Michael. In particular, his gaze always ended up drawn to the wand by the Jade's side, the symbol of all that was anathema to House Stallion. Each time, he had looked away with a scowl on his face.

Yet despite that, once the funeral was over and the traditional walk between the cathedral and the cemetery where the king would be interred began, the Duke immediately made a beeline for Lord Michael's side, easily falling into stride with him, his long crimson cloak fluttering behind him as he walked.

"Hello, Lord Jade," he said in a calm, measured voice, turning his sapphire eyes on to Michael. "Do you know who I am?"

"Oh, hello," Michael replied, in an equally calm tone. He gave what might have been a friendly smile, if not for the sly and analytical edge behind it. "Duke Ashley Stallion, isn't it?"

"Yes," that one word was drawn out by Ashley, turning a simple confirmation of his identity into something far more layered. "It's nice to finally meet you, though it's a shame it has to be on such an occasion."

"Yes, it truly is a shame," Michael agreed, shaking his head. "He was a good king; he will certainly be missed."

"Of course. But he has left a fine heir, has he not? As I understand, that is the most important thing." The Stallion turned his head up towards the rising king at the head of the procession. "A strong man to carry on the legacy of his father."

"Oh, yes, of course," Michael said, following Ashley's gaze. "It will be interesting to see how Prince Eagle handles himself as king. Though I'm sure he'll do an excellent job—his father has trained him well."

"As you would expect of a king, although," here, Ashley's eyes became a lot harder. "I do wonder sometimes, how a House so proud of its magic can answer so readily to a non-mage king."

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Just because he doesn't have magic doesn't make him any less the king."

"Of course not," the Duke turned his head away, relaxed as though his comment had been as inoffensive and simple as a remark about the weather. "The hierarchy of the kingdom is more important. Besides...if we had a mage king, I would fear for the fate of my own House."

Michael chuckled at that, though whether or not he meant it to be amicable, it was hard to say. "Speaking of the fate of your House," he said instead, "it's a shame your father couldn't be here. How is he doing these days?"

Immediately, Ashley's back stiffened as though a cold metal bar had been jammed into his body in place of his spine. "He is just fine," the Stallion replied far too calmly, but as he turned back to look at Michael, his eyes bored into the Jade's skull. "But with all due respect, I do not see why my father's well-being should interest you."

"I had heard he wasn't feeling well. I thought I should offer my sympathies," Michael replied with a nonchalant shrug. "But if he's well as you say, I suppose the point is moot."

The Duke's eyes narrowed into harsh pinpricks. "You heard wrong, Lord Jade. Even if my father was not well, as you say, I would not reveal that to you," the corner of his mouth rose into a scowl. "Who knows what you could do with that information?"

"You wound me. You think I would wish harm on a sickly old man, let alone one with a competent heir to replace him?" Michael smiled back at Ashley, with a cunning look in his eyes that might have been meant as a challenge. "That would be awfully rash of me."

"Yes, it would be," Ashley hissed. "Especially because we are not as weak as you think, my father made sure of that."

He snorted, meeting the Michael's gaze as though rising to the challenge. "Magic is not the only way to do things, nor is it as infallible as House Jade seems to believe."

Michael raised an eyebrow at this. "Is that so?"

"Yes," this time the word was a hammer-blow. Ashley continued to stare into the Jade Lord's eyes, acquiring even more of that predatory look that he normally wore. As he did, his scowl acquired hints of a smile. "My House is not the only one surrounded by rumours, Lord Michael, and I have heard some that have given me a lot of thought. Magic definitely is not the only way, and certainly no way forward."

Michael chose not to emote, instead keeping his expression a very careful neutral. "My, such bold words. How can you be so sure of yourself, Duke Ashley?"

At this, Ashley only turned away. "I know what I have heard, and I know for a fact that magic is not the be-all, end-all solution. After all, if it was, why else would you consider Bern, a region with no magic, such a threat to your fine House? You fear what we could mean for your traditions, and rightly so."

He lifted his head up, staring ahead at the funeral procession that was beginning to weave into the cemetery. Ashley smiled and took a few steps ahead, only stopping to glance back at the Jade. "This has been a pleasant conversation. I hope you have a good day, Lord Michael," he stated in all-too-calm voice before walking off further towards the front of the crowd.

---

Only a year later, Lord Michael Jade was found dead.

The news came as quite a shock. Apparently, on his way back from business in the Kythian capital, the Lord of House Jade was attacked and killed by so-called "bandits"—not that anyone in the House believed that. It was too convenient, too clean to have been ordinary bandits. More likely it was the work of those brutish Stallions, though the cowards would never own up to it.

But regardless of the cause, it meant that the estate would be left to his heir, Lord Abram. Abram was terrified—he was only twenty five years old, and he had some very large shoes to fill. On top of the responsibilities he already had, least of all the upcoming birth of his new child, he would have to deal with the unease surrounding his father's death, protect himself from any potential follow-up attacks from House Stallion... and of course, continue to maintain the illusion that he was a mage. That sort of secret was especially dangerous at a troubled time like this.

"It's just so much to take on at once," he admitted to his wife. "I don't... I'm not sure if I'm ready for this."

"It's not going to be easy, surely," Camilla agreed. "But all you can do is give it your all and hope it's enough." Putting a hand on his shoulder and smiling reassuringly, she added, "And I'll always be right here beside you no matter what."

Abram smiled back at her, exchanging a brief kiss with her. "Thank you, love. And you're right. I'm just... nervous, I suppose. I really hope nothing else goes wrong."

"You've trained your whole life for this. I'm sure you'll do fine," Camilla assured him.

"I do hope so," Abram replied, just as there was a knock at the door. He looked up, saying, "Come in."

The door swung open, revealing a servant on the other side. "Your carriage awaits you, my lord."

Abram sighed, turning to his wife again. "Well, I guess I'd better get going, then."

Camilla smiled, giving him another kiss. "Best of luck, my love. I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Thank you." Abram smiled, standing and adjusting his wand holster. He took a deep breath before following the servant out the door, through the manor and out to the carriage bound for Medieville. It was there where he would be swearing fealty to the King of Kyth, marking himself once and for all as the official Lord of House Jade.

He was accompanied by an entourage of guards, after what had happened to Lord Michael on his trip to the capital—because of course, no one wanted the same fate to befall Lord Abram. Through the few days of travel that made up the trip, Abram continually recited the words he would say in his mind, while simultaneously trying to calm his nerves. Anyone trying to attack him while his whole House was on high alert would be suicidal—nothing would happen, and even if it did, there was no chance of them succeeding. Everything would be just fine.

Thankfully, they made it to the capital without incident, pulling to a stop in front of Raven's Keep, home to King Eagle and the rest of the royal family. Abram could hear his own heartbeat as he climbed out of the carriage into the cool autumn air. This was it. This was the day he had been training his whole life for.

He made his way to the castle, his guards following and watching closely for any suspicious activity. Once there, some servants let them inside and directed them to wait for the king's arrival. Which Abram was happy to do, as it gave him more time to prepare himself.

It took several hours, dusk settling over Medieville by the time the king finally strode in, trailed in short order by several royal knights. Eagle wore no crown, but his identity was patent in spite of this, merely in the way that he carried himself: ramrod straight, and without a hint of hesitancy to his stride. He wasn't very old-- perhaps around Abram's age, if not even younger-- but the monarch seemed to be compensating for this fact with his mere poise, his face inscrutable and his dark blue eyes narrowed as might a predator's. He wore an ensemble of vivid purple and grey, his tunic and breeches so finely tailored they might have been a second skin; his hair, a wispy almond-brown, hung to his shoulders without a single lock frizzed or out of place.

"Lord Abram," he greeted coolly. Assessing the man who sat before him, the king added after a moment, "You look just like your father. I was sorry to hear of his abrupt passing."

"Your Majesty." Abram bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you. My father was a great man, and he'll be sorely missed."

"Indeed." Eagle made the sign of the feather before continuing: "I suspect you are likely worn from the road. And we've a feast waiting in the banquet hall for you. So while I'm always one for small talk, if we'd like to save it for the high table and simply proceed with the matter at hand? One gains so little from waltzing around the point, I've so often found."

"That sounds good, thank you," Abram agreed.

They made their way to the banquet hall, where indeed an impressive meal had been prepared for them. The food was delectable, and the dinner conversation was overall pleasant, helping Abram to feel a little more comfortable. This was good, everything was going well.

Abram and his guards were granted a place to stay for the night and get some sleep, as it had gotten late by the time dinner was over. And then, the next morning, came the ceremony itself. The grand hall was bedecked in massive silk banners-- Ascension grey-and-purple alongside the green-and-gold of House Jade. The king sat upon an ornate throne that was built into a lofty dais in the center of the room, Eagle clad in heavy ceremonial robes that puddled beneath him on the floor and a dark iron crown glinting from atop his head. Wordless witnesses flanked him on either side, apprising Abram as the lord slowly approached before dropping to his knees at the base of the dais.

"You may ascend," Eagle said. "Then kneel before me. And take out your sword."

Abram nodded, doing as instructed and approaching the king, kneeling to the ground and drawing a ceremonial sword he'd brought along for this exact purpose. As he held the sword with its tip toward the floor, he took a deep breath, settling into position.

This is it, Abram, he thought to himself. Now it's your turn to be the Lord of House Jade. It's time to make your fathers proud.

On the throne, Eagle unsheathed his own sword-- its blade a glossy steel that gleamed like a jewel beneath the early morning light that streamed in through the grand hall's massive windows-- and pointed it so that its tip hovered almost unnervingly close to the Jade lord's bowed forehead.

"Begin," the king said simply.

Abram would have nodded, but at the moment, he didn't dare move. Instead, he started to speak the words he knew now by heart. "I, Lord Abram Jade, son and rightful heir of Lord Michael Jade, promise on my faith that I in the future will be faithful to the king..."

[PFA]

Collab with Celestial ! On the way down to Zariver wedding, Ambrose and company make a stop in Solis...

The Other Brother - Part 1

SPOILER: Click to show

The stop in Solis was a brief one, just enough for them to rest, meet up with the rest of the party heading for the wedding and gather supplies for the long journey to Rakine. However, to Ambrose, who had never been in the Jade city before, it was an opportunity to finally see the place that he had only ever heard of. And it was beautiful. Even going through the white city, he glimpsed amazing mosaics and statuary on the corners caught his eye with their intricacy and artfulness. It was no exaggeration to say that the people of Solis were masters at their craft. It was different from Medieville and literally worlds away from Destrier but that just served to intrigue Ambrose further.

Which is why he had not minded at all when Leif had left him alone in Jade Manor to go to the mews. The archmage had his interests and Ambrose had his. They agreed to meet later but for now, he was off exploring the Jade Manor on his own.

For all intents and purposes, he had come here as an Ascension servant and he was dressed in the colours to prove it, but his blood and his family were Stallion. It was impossible for him not to be aware of the history of their two Houses, even if he himself had no interest or investment in the rivalry. Out of a desire to avoid trouble, Ambrose had not worn his red cloak as well as the silver and garnet horse brooch that kept it in place. In the Corvid heat, he hardly needed it.

And indeed, nobody had paid him much attention as he wandered around, staring at the finely carved columns or the detailed tapestries and mosaics that adorned the walls. It was hardly like he had never seen anything like it before but to be able to stop and examine the handiwork of the craftsmen who had built this place. Whatever could be said about the Jades, they had spared no expense and no effort in making their residence look magnificent. Compared to the utilitarian architecture of Destrier, it was as different as night and day.

So focused was he on admiring a high, ornate painted ceiling which depicted the Lord Woo and his many saints that he had not noticed anybody else in the room with him. Not until he had bumped quite roughly into the man.

“I’m sorry!” Ambrose exclaimed, leaping back, his eyes wide and horrified. “I just got so caught up, I didn’t mean to…”

The man who stood before him was the definition of stately, with finely embroidered robes signifying that he was a man of high status. He regarded Ambrose with a scrutinizing scowl, a hint of recognition in his otherwise stony expression—either he had seen Ambrose before, or he recognized his resemblance to his brother, Alain. Either way, the man chose not to comment.

“It’s fine. It was a mistake,” he said, relaxing into a more diplomatic but still not especially warm demeanor. “I assume you’re the one accompanying Master Leif and my son to the wedding?”

“Uh, yes. I am.” Ambrose broke off as recognition dawned across his face. They never did get to speak during the events of the Bloody Coronation four years ago but he never forgot a face, especially one as prominent as this one: Everett Jade, the head of House Jade and Lord of Corvus, a man who he had heard plenty about, in no small part thanks to Alain and his...peculiar relationship to the Jade Lord.

And Woo, he had just bumped into him while wandering blindly around his Manor like some fool. A cold chill spread down Ambrose’s spine as he realised that perhaps the rumour mill might not go one way. He swallowed, trying to hide his discomfort, and gripped his sleeves. “You...you have a beautiful Manor, Lord Jade. It is a shame I cannot stay here longer.”

Everett nodded. “Thank you, Lord… Ambrose, is it? And it’s understandable, given the circumstances. I do hope the trip to Courdon goes well.”

His stomach dropped out from under him and Ambrose stared at Everett with unrestrained, wide-eyed terror. How did the Jade know his name? Was it just from his work with the king or...or from other things? But either way, he had to know that he was Alain’s brother. Oh Woo, what would Everett be thinking of him now? He tried to look at the Jade Lord’s face, get a read on what he was thinking somehow but all he was met with was cold politeness.

“How...how did you k-know who I was?” he managed to stammer out, trying to hold back his panic.

Everett raised an eyebrow. It was strange seeing someone with such a resemblance to the Grand Duke acting so timid. “Well, I seem to recall you were there for the late king’s funeral, not to mention my son’s wedding. But in this case, it would be because I was told you were coming.”

Of course, it was something as simple as that. Ambrose’s shoulders fell, along with his gaze, though there was still a nervous flutter in his stomach. “Oh, of course...my apologies, Lord Everett. I’m just used to people hearing about me through...other ways,” he bit his tongue immediately at that, wincing. There was no need to make the Jade Lord more inquisitive.

He tried to smile up at him, masking some of his fear. “I hope I’m not intruding by wandering around. I have just never been in Solis before and I wanted to see it for myself…”

“I understand, though perhaps it would be best to have an escort,” Everett suggested, “in case you get lost.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t want to bother anybody, and Master Leif, who I came with, wanted to see the birds more than me, something which I do not begrudge him,” Ambrose smiled weakly before lowering his eyes. “Though I can understand wanting to give me an escort. I’m a stranger, and a Stallion too...I shouldn’t wander around alone.”

Everett paused, pondering if it would be an appropriate diplomatic choice to agree with him or not. After a moment, he instead decided to say, “If there is any part of the manor in particular you would like to see, feel free to ask. Within reason, of course.”

“Well...I have not been here before so I don’t know what kinds of things you have. And my-” Ambrose bit his tongue. Everett knew who he was, which meant he most likely knew of his relationship with Alain, but he doubted the Jade Lord was too fond of his brother, considering their positions and just how much pleasure Alain seemed to derive from tormenting him. “Well, I haven’t heard much about this place.”

He smiled weakly and glanced up. “But it is very richly decorated. I haven’t seen anything like it, not in Medieville and certainly not in Destrier.”

“Thank you. My family put a lot of care into this building, as you can tell,” Everett replied, glancing up at one of the tapestries hanging on the wall. “I know a lot of very talented artists were commissioned to work on it, though I don’t recall their names at the moment… I’m sure my nephew would know.” He shook his head. “Regardless, it’s a very old building, so we take great care to preserve it well.”

“It...certainly shows,” Ambrose said, casting another glance around. He could not imagine how much care and maintenance something like this had to take. “I guess it would be easier to do with mages? Even so...I’ve seen things like it but it’s always interesting seeing such things in person.”

He bit down hard on his tongue, wincing and quietly praying that Everett would not ask about the strange comment. Woo, there was no need to explain to the Lord of House Jade about his own magic.

Thankfully, though the comment did cause Everett to do a brief double take, he otherwise didn’t respond. “A lot of magic does go into it, as I’m sure you can guess. But I’m glad you like it.”

“I do,” Ambrose nodded before glancing down, his arms going up to grip his sleeves. “I apologise. It must sound strange for a Stallion to be remarking on such things, considering our Houses’ rivalry. I hope you don’t mind.”

Everett gave a small chuckle at this, unremarkable but for the fact that it was the first time he’d really smiled for the whole conversation. “No, I don’t mind. If anything, I’m honored. I don’t often hear proper compliments from Stallions.” As opposed to whatever it is Alain does, he thought with a frown, but chose not to voice.

The sudden break in the Jade Lord’s face startled Ambrose but at Everett’s comment, he found himself smiling a little too. “I can imagine, given which of us it is you most often encounter,” he raised his eyes upward. He wondered if he should say this, but it was likely Everett knew of the connection between him and Alain already. No point hiding it. “I apologise on my behalf of my brother. Despite how he acts, he does think very highly of you, Lord Jade.”

Everett sighed, shaking his head. “…I suppose. He has a strange way of showing it if so.”

“He always has,” the Stallion replied, covering his smile. “But he would not do it if he did not think you could cope with it, Lord Everett. And I have never heard him say anything truly awful about you.”

“Hm. Well, I’m glad to hear it, then.” Everett tilted his head, regarding Ambrose with a curious glance. “I admit, it’s a bit strange to think of someone like you as the brother of Grand Duke Alain.”

This caused the Stallion to flinch slightly. His smile faded and he looked away, gripping the edge of his left sleeve. “People say that, and I know I’m nothing like him, Lord Jade. I apologise for my...inadequacy, but my strengths and his are different.”

“Inadequacy?” Everett raised an eyebrow. “I never meant to imply you were inadequate. I only meant that you are much less…” He paused to consider his choice of words. “…Forceful.” That still might not have been the best word choice, but it would have to do. He shook his head. “Either way, I would not assume inadequacy from one who works with the royal family.”

Ambrose pondered this for a moment, silently berating himself for assuming that the Jade Lord’s comment was meant as a negative thing. “I’m sorry, I should not have assumed you meant that, but usually when people said I am nothing like Alain, they meant that as a bad thing. It’s hard to a shake a lifelong habit,” he bowed his head. “But thank you...for meaning otherwise.”

Despite the lingering discomfort, at the mention of Alain, his smile returned. “We are different though, and you are right, Lord Everett, my brother can definitely be forceful, among other things,” he risked a glance upward. “But siblings do not have to resemble each other. Especially when they’re...raised differently.”

“I suppose you’re right. Woo knows my own children are different enough from each other,” Everett agreed. “But that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I’m sorry to hear that people say that of you. You seem capable enough to me.”

The Stallion lowered his eyes, raising his hand up to grip his sleeve again. He was not sure if he wanted an answer to this question: if he asked it, he might lose whatever goodwill the Jade Lord was giving him. But he would have felt like a liar if he did not bring it up. “You knew my name...how much have you heard of me, Lord Jade? Before this?”

Everett was silent at first, not sure how to respond. “I know that you’re Alain’s brother,” he said slowly. “And I know what I saw of you at the king’s funeral.”

“Oh. I see...” Ambrose uttered, still not looking up. Was that really it? He should not assume that people had necessarily heard the stories about him but it was difficult to believe that somebody who knew Alain, who interacted with him as Everett had done, who was there during the entire fiasco surrounding the Coronation, would not know. And there was his tone of voice, how he spoke... “There’s...nothing else you know?”

Again, Everett fell silent, as if not sure what he should say. The Stallion gave off a heavy sigh.

“I won’t be insulted if you wish to tell me the truth,” he gripped the edge of his sleeve tightly, suddenly finding great interest in the marble tiling of the floor. “Given what that happened at the funeral and the Coronation, and everything my brother found out...I’d be surprised if you didn’t know about us too.”

Everett frowned, not liking the implication that Alain had discovered House Jade secrets at the Coronation. Then again, it wasn’t as if House Jade hadn’t done the same to House Stallion, so it was only fair… but still an unpleasant thought.

Thankfully, the strange weapon that Jeniver had watched Ambrose build did not seem to be the topic of discussion here. Everett supposed he could get away without mentioning that. “…I have heard the rumors about the Grand Duke’s mad brother, if that’s what you mean,” he said instead. “But I suspect there’s more to it than that.”

There it was, that word. Ambrose’s spine went rigid, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not tear himself away from the swirling patterns beneath him. “...you’re right, I’m not…” he swallowed. “Mad. I swear I’m not. But-”

A thought struck him like a falling stone, forcing Ambrose to bite back his tongue. He had grown very comfortable with the explanation he gave everyone about the time magic, and normally, they did not question it, nor did they think much of it. Magic in a Stallion was unusual, to say the least, but nobody he had talked to about it, not even Leif had any objection to it on an ideological basis. The Lord of House Jade, however, might be a very different matter.

“...what I am about to say might certainly sound like I am,” Ambrose dared to venture, his eyes flickering up to Everett to study his reaction.

It didn’t help much, however, as Everett’s expression remained unchanged. “Go on,” he urged.

“I…” the Stallion swallowed and took several deep breaths. “I have magic.”

He had spat it out, there was no going back now. “It’s something akin to what your niece, Jeniver, has. Except instead of the present, I see the future.”

“…I see. I suspected it might be something like that, based on what I heard,” was Everett’s response, surprisingly enough. He scowled, shaking his head. “A Stallion with magic is unheard of, let alone a rare type of magic, but to mistake it for madness…” He trailed off with a sigh. “My apologies, I don’t mean to be rude.”

Ambrose blinked, staring up at the Jade Lord with unrestrained surprise. He had expected derision or disbelief, anything but what Everett had presented to him, which was...understanding? Acceptance? Even perhaps sympathy? For a while, he remained silent, unsure what to make of this answer, or even whether he should make anything of it.

Finally, he bowed his head again. “You’re not being rude. Compared to some of the things I’ve had said to me…” Ambrose sighed, shaking his head. “But you’re not surprised, Lord Everett? I would have thought, given...everything that has passed between our Houses, you’d never accept some Stallion’s claim to possess a power like that.”

“Oh, I am surprised. As I said, a Stallion with magic is unheard of,” Everett clarified. “But when it comes to magic potential, ‘unheard of’ doesn’t mean ‘impossible.’ I’ve come to realize that from experience.” He frowned, wondering if he should have said that, if the Stallion might read into it. But it was too late to take it back now, so he just let it hang.

A variety of possibilities pertaining to the meaning of those words crossed Ambrose’s mind, not all of them good. It was an open secret in Kyth and a well-known fact to House Stallion that the Jade patriarchs had been without magic for several generations now; was that what Everett was alluding to? There was nothing else that Ambrose could think of but to bring this up, when House Jade clearly wanted to keep it hidden felt rude and prying, especially by a man who came from a House and region seemingly devoid of magic.

“I...I suppose so, Lord Everett. You and your House are the authorities on magic, I should not speak about things I do not know much about,” he murmured.

Everett shook his head. “It’s alright. I wouldn’t expect a man raised as a Stallion to know much about magic. Although,” he added, “have you had the chance to research your own, at least?”

“My brother did the bulk of the research over many years, away from me. He wanted to be sure,” Ambrose nodded, averting his gaze so the Jade Lord would not see his eyes and be able to tell there was more to the truth than just his words. As much as Alain liked Everett, he doubted he would have wanted the other reason to keep Ambrose’s magic a secret from him to be revealed.

He gave off a soft, sad laugh. “You know my brother, so this might be a little odd for you to hear but...he was the only one who ever believed I was not mad.”

“I see…” Everett was silent for a moment, thinking on this. It was hard to tell what his exact thoughts on the subject were, though it was likely they were a bit conflicted. Regardless, he chose not to share any of them. “Well, that’s good. It’s good to know about your own magic, even if you know nothing else.”

“I...I suppose,” Ambrose nodded, swallowing at Everett’s brief silence. Was it a mistake to mention Alain? He knew that the Jade Lord and his brother were not the greatest of friends but he never thought that the former actually hated him.

“Forgive me, Lord Everett I...I hope it was not a mistake to mention Alain in your company?” he asked tentatively. “I know you and him...don’t get along, or at least you don’t necessarily, but my brother, well...he was and is the only one who believed in me, who kept me from truly going mad. No matter what, I cannot help but think very highly of him.”

“What? No, you’re quite alright. And I can hardly fault you for that,” Everett assured him. “If anything, I’m glad to know that your brother does care about his family.”

To this, Ambrose could only nod slowly. “He does, for all of them. His children, his grandchildren, even me…” a small smile spread across his face. “Is that really such a surprise to you, Lord Everett?”

Everett cleared his throat, declining comment. “Well, I’m glad to hear you have such a good relationship with him.”

The Stallion nodded again, though this time he remained quiet, keeping his eyes on the Jade Lord. He could not help but sense Everett’s discomfort at the topic of conversation. While it was true that Alain had never made any particular effort to endear himself to Everett, at least not in the way most people would, it was difficult to tell exactly what Everett thought of him.

Ambrose had already apologised for his brother’s actions and whatever Everett thought of Alain, before or after, he had every right to think that. Nor could Ambrose stop people from forming their own opinions of Alain, especially since his brother never expressed any interest in being liked. However, this was somebody that Alain did like, or at least respect. The Jade was being very reticent with his feelings and his facial expressions, and he had not really spoken of his feelings about Alain either. He wondered if perhaps...

“Lord Jade...do you hate my brother?” he blurted out and immediately covered his mouth, realising he had spoken out loud. Woo, why did he have to ask such a personal question of the Lord of House Jade of all people? Nobles kept their feelings to themselves and poking your nose into it was improper. This was it. He was going to be dismissed or reprimanded or worse…

Everett was silent at first, clearly taken off-guard by the question. And he remained silent for an unsettlingly long time as he pondered how best to respond. Normally it wasn’t the type of question he would answer, but this was Alain’s brother, someone who clearly respected Alain quite a lot. He didn’t want to be rude, but…

“It’s not… quite like that. Not exactly,” Everett spoke slowly, stumbling over his words—unusual for the normally articulate Lord of House Jade. “I mean, for all he does, he would never do anything truly malicious to me or House Jade, and for that, I’m…” He cleared his throat. “…Grateful. I’m grateful.”

There was a pause. “…But don’t tell him I said that,” he added hastily. “I’d never hear the end of it.”

Ambrose slowly lowered his hand, a wide grin spreading across his face, though most of it was out of sheer relief that Everett had not gotten offended at his words. He had almost been ready to make an excuse and bolt while the Jade Lord had been silent.

“Thank you,” he bowed deeply to Everett. “My brother does not care about such things normally but...I think he’d be glad to hear that. I certainly am,” he glanced up, his eyes acquiring an amused glint. “But I won’t say anything to him. If he heard that, well…”

The Stallion chuckled softly and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure you can imagine Alain’s reaction as well as I can.”

“Yes, quite.” Everett cleared his throat again. “At any rate, I do have business I need to attend to. If you’d still like to explore the manor, I’d happily find an escort for you.”

“Oh,” Ambrose glanced around, scanning the columns and frescoes of the Jade residence. Yes, he would have very much liked to explore it further, who knew when he was next going to be here, but at the same time, after asking such a question, he did not want to cause more trouble.

“If you may, Lord Everett,” he bowed his head deeply. “But only if it is not an inconvenience to you and whoever you choose to escort me.”

“It should be no trouble at all.” Everett also glanced around the immediate area, before flagging down the nearest servant. “Would you mind showing Lord Ambrose around the… oh.” He paused uncertainly. “If it’s not too much of a bother, of course.”

The servant paused, glancing between Everett and Ambrose for a moment in thought. As he did so, it gave Ambrose the time to recognize that the man before them was an elf, with glistening amber eyes and pale blond hair tied back into a ponytail. Though the elf at first looked quizzical, he soon gave a polite smile.

“It would be no trouble at all, my lord,” he insisted. “You want me to show him around the manor, you said?”

“…Yes.” Everett frowned. “You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I couldn’t handle such a simple task,” the elf replied, before turning to Ambrose with a smile. “Lord Ambrose, is it? I’m Advisor Peter.”

“Er, yes,” Ambrose blinked as Peter spoke, realising he had been staring. He had never met a full elf before, let alone had expected one to be his escort around Jade Manor. And yet, Alain had mentioned the Jades having an elf advisor, had he not? Thirty years ago, when he came to meet Lord Eduard…

“You might remember my older brother, the Grand Duke of Bern, Advisor. He spoke of you after his trip here,” the Stallion remarked. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Grand Duke Alain, right? We’ve met, yes,” Peter confirmed. “So then, you wanted to see the manor?”

“Just keep him away from the private quarters,” Everett added, before continuing on to whatever business he had.

Peter nodded. “Of course, my lord.”

“Thank you, Lord Everett,” Ambrose bowed again before him and Peter walked off.

The Other Brother - Part 2

SPOILER: Click to show

Once they had gone a short distance, Ambrose nodded to the elf advisor, looking up at him. “I don’t have anywhere specific I want to go, Advisor, I just like looking at the craftsmanship of this place. It’s beautiful,” he glanced up at the painted ceiling they were passing under. “Not to mention it makes for a relaxing stop before we head to Courdon.”

“And a much more preferable one, I’m sure,” Peter remarked. With a smile, he added, “If it’s craftsmanship you’d like to see, there’s some beautiful murals down this way.”

“That would be nice, thank you,” the Stallion smiled back. “As for Courdon…” he shrugged, lowering his head. “I have to go where I am sent by the king, regardless of how I feel about it or what I prefer.”

Quickly, Ambrose looked up, clasping his hands together. “Not that I am ungrateful, I don’t want to give that impression, but that’s just part of the job. I’m sure you understand what I mean…since we share a job title after all.”

“Yes, I understand quite well,” was Peter’s response. Then, changing the subject, he gestured to a tapestry on the wall. “Now this one has quite a story behind it. It’s been in the Jade family for hundreds of years, but it had to be restored almost fifty years ago due to its age. Oh, but how much trouble it was to find someone who could match the style…”

“I see…” Ambrose nodded, peering closer at the tapestry. Some of the stitches did seem a lot brighter than others and he guessed those were the new ones, though they blended in so well that it was almost impossible to tell. “It’s certainly masterfully done. Though...I do not know much of embroidery. Perhaps an expert would have more to say.”

He glanced sideways at Peter. “I’m...I’m guessing you know quite a bit about the Manor, Advisor?”

Peter chuckled at the question. “You learn quite a bit when you work here as long as I have.”

“Oh?” Ambrose blinked before glancing away. “If this is not a rude question...how long has that been?”

“Longer than you’ve been alive, at least,” was Peter’s only response to that. Then, gesturing to the tapestry again, he added, “It depicts the founding of Corvus, of course. I’m not sure if a Stallion would be familiar with the story, but it’s definitely a treasured relic in House Jade.”

Ambrose nodded, listening to the elf as he explained but his thoughts raced at what Peter had said first. Ambrose was old, by human standards anyway, and yet he should not have been surprised that the elf was even older. Yet there was something about the way Peter answered the question, how evasive it was, as though he did not want to think about it.

Nevertheless, he tried to push the thought of his head; it was not his place to ask what seemed to be a personal question. Instead, he smiled at Peter. “I’m...afraid I am not familiar with the story, Advisor,” Ambrose leaned forward to look at the tapestry. “It is beautiful, however, even without that knowledge.”

Straightening out his spine again, he turned back to the elf. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been to Destrier, Advisor, but...the castle there is also covered in tapestries, though they also help serve to keep it warm,” another soft smile crept across his face. “I suppose that is one thing Stallion and Jade have in common.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been. I have heard that, though,” Peter replied with a smile. “If alliances could have been built on a mutual fondness for tapestries, I’m sure things could have been much different.”

Ambrose smiled sadly and sighed. “If only all conflicts could be resolved that easily,” he lifted up a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyes. “But things are thankfully fine now, more or less. Thank Woo the affairs surrounding the Bloody Coronation did not lead to anything awful. That was...the only time I really had some doubt.”

The Stallion winced, removing his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m not even sure if I should be saying that. I have no issue expressing my fears but...well, you probably know better than anybody, Advisor Peter, given much how you must have witnessed. What I mean,” he lowered his eyes, swallowing. “With the rivalry.”

For the first time since their meeting, Peter frowned, silent for a moment in thought. “The rivalry between House Jade and House Stallion has certainly seen darker days. There was a time not all that long ago when the fear of potential bloodshed was very real and well-founded. These days, however…” The smile returned to the elf’s face, though this time there was a slight bitter edge to it. “Well, given that the worst bloodshed at the Coronation was due to a Courdonian attack, I’d say we all have better things to worry about.”

Ambrose nodded solemnly. “You’re right. I was at the Coronation and it was...awful. I’ve seen things like it, but actually living through that…” he shook his head, his arm rising to grip the edge of his sleeve, trying to steady himself. “And now both crowns seem to want peace, and so do I, but I...I can’t help be nervous. About this wedding, about everything.”

The Stallion lifted up his head, catching sight of the elf’s expression before the realisation hit him: he was talking about Courdon to an elf! Admittedly, his knowledge on the extent of elven slavery was vague, much of what he worked with and had seen was with humans, but it was enough for him to imagine the horror.

“I...I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I hope this isn’t an unpleasant subject for you.”

“Is Courdon ever a pleasant topic?” Peter replied bluntly, before shaking his head. “No, I understand. It would hardly be fair asking you not to talk about it, given the circumstances.”

“I suppose, but…” Ambrose sighed, his shoulders drooping. “I do know about the relationship between Courdon and elves. I’ve come across the topic in my work for the crown and I’m sorry. I realise my words don’t help much but...I am.”

His hand around his sleeve clenched tighter. “I wish I could do something to help. But even in the king’s service, I’m...just as powerless as I once was,” he lowered his head. “I’ve accepted that I cannot help everyone, but it does not make the thought of all the suffering that goes on any easier.”

Peter was silent, his expression suggesting that he was fighting back a great deal of bitterness at the topic. It was only after a moment of forcing himself to calm down before he finally spoke again. “It certainly is unfortunate, yes.”

Then, clearing his throat, the elf continued down the hall with a polite smile. “Anyway, I wanted to show you the mural down this way, didn’t I? Right this way, please.”

Ambrose took a step forward after Peter and then stopped, wrapping his arms around himself. “Advisor…” he bit his tongue, wondering if this was even something he should ask. On one hand, it was not his business and he should not pry but at the same time, if this was causing the elf so much grief…

“...I apologise if this out of line, but…” the Stallion swallowed before looking directly up at him. “I learned this from experience: it doesn’t do to repress all the feelings you clearly are hiding, not without some form of relief for them.”

Peter’s pace slowed to a stop, again lost in thought for a moment. Then he gave a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m afraid it’s not that easy.”

“I know,” Ambrose replied, his voice full to the brim with sympathy. “And I suppose, thinking about it, I am not the best person for it, nor is it my place to ask. But…”

The Stallion sighed, clenching his hands around his sleeves tighter. “It doesn’t have to be much. But if you let it fester, eventually it will eat you alive, especially given your long lifespan,” he lowered his head but his eyes remained fixed on Peter, judging his reaction. “And I would not wish that on anyone.”

Peter didn’t even look back at Ambrose, though it was hard to miss the wince at the mention of his lifespan. Again, it seemed clear that it was something he didn’t want to think about. “…Again, I appreciate the concern,” he said, “but not all problems are things that can be relieved. Sometimes all you can do is come to terms with them. It… might not be easy, but what else can you do?”

Ambrose took a small step back at his words but immediately stopped himself, lifting up his head as the answer to Peter’s question became apparent in his mind immediately. “Come to terms with them and share the burden with somebody else,” he said with far more firmness in this tone than he expected. “I know from experience how much of a relief it can be, even to problems you earlier thought unfixable.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Peter insisted. “And I don’t see why this should be your concern regardless.”

“Because…” the Stallion’s shoulders slumped. “It isn’t, not really, but...I’ve seen too much suffering for me to accept doing nothing, especially when I feel like I can help, somehow. I...I know that it hurts a lot, to repress feelings, and I can tell that’s what…”

He bit his tongue, wondering if he should go further, but the answer came to him loud and clear immediately: yes, he should. Silence was worse. “...that’s what you’re doing,” Ambrose finished his thought.

Peter again fell silent, unsure of what to say. An uncomfortably long time passed, the Stallion’s stomach sinking as he wondered if he had really caused Peter a grave offence, before finally the elf let out a strained sigh, pinching his brow.

“I’m… sorry. I’m usually better than this,” he spoke slowly. “I suppose this whole situation with Courdon has me a bit on edge.”

Ambrose could not disguise the sigh of relief that escaped from him and he shook his head. “It’s alright, I understand. I’m nervous about it too,” he glanced up at Peter. “But I am sure it is infinitely worse for you. It’s closer to home, both literally and figuratively.”

“Hm.” Peter gave another sigh, turning and leaning back into a column for a support. His eyes were distant and thoughtful, holding the weight of many long years. “I have seen… more than my fair share of hardships involving Courdon. I have seen them go to war with us at times when we were vulnerable. I have seen Courdonian slave raiders take rightful Kythian citizens out from under our noses, and then their government do absolutely nothing about it.” His scowl deepened. “And they still do nothing about it. Yet they think we can become allies?”

The elf shook his head. “…I’m sorry. That was probably out of line.”

“No, it’s...it’s fine,” Ambrose murmured. He had been watching Peter as the elf spoke, in particular noticing the far away, tired look in his eyes. His heart twinged with sympathy: it definitely felt far too familiar. “I do understand. After all you’ve seen, and all you’ve no doubt had to deal with, I cannot blame you for your frustration. And…”

He lifted his hands up to his sleeves again, wrapping his arms around himself. “To some extent, I feel the same way. I know a young man in Medieville who was a former slave, who was broken by Courdon. To say nothing of the horrors they inflicted during the Coronation, as well as...other things I’ve seen,” the Stallion shivered, shutting his eyes briefly as the memories floated to the top of his mind like scummy globs of fat in gruel. “But...allies is better than enemies, Advisor, at least I believe so.”

“…I suppose so,” Peter admitted. “I just wish they would do something about all the damage they’ve caused. I wish…” He trailed off, a bitter look in his eyes.

“I know. Seeing all the damage done, you...you wish it could be undone, but all you can really do is fix it,” Ambrose’s arms lifted up a fraction of an inch before he grabbed his own sleeves, stopping himself. It was unlikely that Peter would appreciate the contact. “But...it will not last. Courdon won’t keep doing this forever.”

Again, Peter gave a humorless chuckle. “I admire your optimism. I can only hope you’re right. But…” He shook his head. “Maybe there are things that can’t be ‘fixed.’”

“There are, but...not this one,” the Stallion lowered his eyes, realising he would have to pick his words carefully to avoid unnecessary questions. He had already had to explain things to Lord Everett that he would rather not share with any more of House Jade. “Eventually...the slaves won’t be able to stand it anymore. They will have to rebel, and when they rebel...I think- no, I know the entire system will fall.”

“I’d like to believe that. I really would,” Peter replied dully. “But it’s hard to know what to believe after hundreds of years of nothing changing. After…” He hesitated for a moment, before continuing. “…After seventy five years of not seeing my own brother.”

Ambrose’s head shot up and he stared at Peter, unable to help himself. He had thought that the elf’s bitterness was due to proximity with Courdon and what it did to his kind, but he never imagined anything like...like that.

“Woo, I’m sorry,” he gasped, holding his hands closer to himself so he would not be tempted to reach out and offer some misguided attempt at comfort. “I...I cannot imagine what that must be like. To have your own brother be…” Ambrose swallowed the word, not daring to say it.

Peter frowned, regretting having mentioned that particular detail—it wasn’t exactly something he liked to talk about to strangers, let alone those of Stallion blood. He wondered for a moment if he should continue, before finally letting out a relenting sigh. “It’s… frustrating, definitely,” he admitted. “I personally have done everything I can think of to bring him home, but to no avail. At this rate, I don’t even know if he’s still…”

The elf trailed off, the solemnity of what he was about to say left hanging in the silence. After a moment, he shook his head. “…But what’s even worse is knowing that he’s not the only one. If you are indeed familiar with the history of Courdon and the elves, you should know that this sort of thing has been going on for centuries.” Peter scowled. “Unless and until Courdon does something to fix that… forgive me if I find it hard to trust them.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m the one who is going on this visit, not you, and I understand, given the history and what Courdon does to...to those it touches, why you feel the way you do, Advisor,” Ambrose said quietly before looking up, doing his best to appear sure of what he was going to say. “It won’t last. You can choose not to believe me, many do not, but their system cannot perpetuate itself. Eventually the slaves will rise up, and I think...it will happen before the end of this century.”

He smiled weakly. “Perhaps then, you’ll see your brother? It might be one instance in which your long lifespan is an advantage?”

“…I would love to believe that,” Peter replied dully. “I really would.”

“I realise how hard it must be. I know what it is like to live without hope, thinking that there’s nothing that can be done, “ the Stallion’s gaze became distant for a moment before fixating back on the elf. “But despair is an awful feeling, not one I would wish on anybody. You don’t have to believe what I say, I know how…” he swallowed, “Insane it sounds. All I ask is that you don’t let your hopelessness devour you.”

Peter just sighed, shaking his head. “…We’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose.” With a wry smile, he added, “But I suppose my particular prejudice was not what you wanted to hear on your trip south. My apologies.”

“There’s no need. I...I probably should not have pried into your business, Advisor,” Ambrose lowered his gaze down to the floor. “Nor will I claim you’re unjustified in holding such feelings, given what Courdon has done to you. And I hope I have not dug up too much pain for you.”

“Oh, it’s hardly your fault. As I said earlier, the whole issue with Courdon has me a little on edge is all.” Peter gave a polite smile, though it wasn’t hard to tell that he was just trying to bury the subject. “Anyway, as I recall, I was supposed to be showing you around the manor. Shall we resume?”

“Ah, yes, we probably should,” Ambrose nodded, keen to get off the subject now that he had pried far more deeply than he had any right to. “Lead the way then, Advisor, if you still want to.”

Peter nodded, proceeding down the hall as if nothing had happened. “Now this mural here has quite a story behind it…”

[PFA]

A certain elf seems to be dominating my fics lately. >_> Oh well!

History

SPOILER: Click to show

"Advisor Peter?"

The elven advisor raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder toward the voice. Standing in the doorway was Leland Jade, holding a book in his arms and looking up at Peter with hopeful green eyes. Peter's expression softened, and he turned to face the boy.

"Yes? Did you need something?" he asked.

"I was just, um..." Leland hesitated for a moment, as if unsure. "...You've worked with House Jade for a long time, right?"

"You could say that," was Peter's response. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was hoping you could... I mean, I was just reading about my ancestors," Leland said, "and I was hoping you could tell me a bit about them?"

Peter was surprised by the request. He'd never been asked that before, but on some level it made sense—he had been there for several of the Jade Lords' lives, and certainly a first-hand perspective would be more informative than whatever could be gained from a book. It was nice to see young Lord Leland with so much interest in his own family history; it couldn't hurt to indulge him, could it?

"Certainly," Peter replied with a smile, stepping away from the shelf he had been organizing and taking a seat on a nearby sofa. "Come, have a seat."

Leland smiled, obediently plopping himself down next to Peter. "So what were they like? What did they do?"

"Let's see..." Peter paused to ponder the question. "Well, I'm sure you remember your grandfather, Lord Everett—your brother was named after him, you know. He was a strong man, and a great leader."

As Peter was speaking, Leland flipped open his book and started skimming through it. "He was only twenty six when he became House Lord, right? So he was in charge for a really long time."

"That's right," Peter confirmed. "That was a tough time for him, when his father died; it was only a few years after he lost his first wife. But he pressed on anyway, going on to become one of the most renowned Jade Lords in recent history. That's why they called him 'the Lord of Embers,' because they said he would always rise like a phoenix from the ashes, no matter what."

"Wow, that's really cool," Leland remarked. Then, glancing down at his book again, he asked, "So what was his father like? Lord Eduard?"

"Lord Eduard was a good man. Very personable," Peter told him. "I'm sure he would have liked your father—unfortunately, he passed away before Joffery was born. A terrible shame, he passed so soon. I'm certain he could have accomplished great things." He shook his head. "It took him a while to come out of his father's shadow, but he came into his own very well."

Leland nodded, taking this in. "And what was his father like?"

"Lord Patrick..." Peter had to stop to think about that one. Patrick had not been the most well-liked of Jade Lords, and in fact had made a lot of very unpopular decisions in his life, but that was likely not what Leland wanted to hear. But what else could he say about him? "He was a very... dedicated man. He wanted to bring magic back to House Jade."

"But we still don't have magic," Leland realized with a frown. "Did it not work?"

"Not exactly as planned," Peter replied, a wry smile crossing his face. "His efforts did produce mage children... just not to his heirs, where it really mattered."

"That's too bad," Leland said. "But at least it's something, right? Maybe we'll have a mage heir again someday."

"Only time can tell, I suppose." Peter shrugged. Again, he chose not to mention the particular ways he tried to reintroduce magic into the bloodline, deciding that Leland probably did not want to hear exactly how his great-great grandfather had made himself unpopular with the other Houses. After all, to him, that was a long time ago.

Realizing the bitterness that was starting to well up in him, Peter pushed it to the back of his mind. Now is not the time.

"So..." Leland spoke into the silence, causing Peter to realize he had trailed off. Oops. "...What was his father like?"

"Lord James was very bold," was the first thing Peter thought of to say. "He wasn't afraid to speak his mind, which..."

"Your father never would have done something like this."

"I am not my father, Peter. We are going to do this my way."

Peter forced a smile over his instinctive wince. No, he was in a bad place then; he couldn't let a few bad memories cloud his judgment. Lord James was a good person. He just needed to think of a better time...

"...He had a sharp sense of humor. He loved to play with his siblings when he was younger," he eventually decided on. "We— they had a lot of fun together."

Leland blinked, silent for a few moments before glancing back down at his book. "Okay... and what about his father?"

...Abram. All at once, the memories came flooding back to Peter. Memories of Abram as a child, treating the elf with kindness and helping him feel at home in House Jade. Memories of Abram as an adult, and all the hardships they went through together. Memories of Abram in his old age, about to lie down in the grave...

It was everything Peter could do to keep his composure. He felt his throat clench—Woo, he couldn't even say his name. Why was he acting like this? It was so long ago; he was supposed to be over it by now...

"...Lord Abram, right?" Leland inserted into the silence. Peter wasn't sure whether to be grateful or not: though it meant he didn't have to force himself to say, just hearing the name caused the elf to involuntarily shudder. Either way, he knew he had to say something, or this would get even more uncomfortable than it already was.

"Yes, that's right," Peter replied carefully, giving a slow nod. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "He was... he was very kind. Probably the kindest man I've ever known."

Again, there was silence. Peter wished he could say more, he really wanted to, but he couldn't find the strength. Silently, he cursed himself. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think this was a good idea?

"...You miss him, don't you?"

The boy's words snapped Peter back into reality just long enough to respond. "I... I'm sorry, I just—"

"It's okay," Leland said, before Peter could finish. "I really miss Grandpa sometimes, too."

Peter wasn't sure how to respond. Again, there was so much he could say—about everything that Abram had done for him, about how painful it was watching so many generations go by—but he couldn't. Leland was only twelve years old; Peter couldn't possibly unload all of this onto him. Leland couldn't possibly understand.

So instead, he remained silent, fighting back tears as Leland offered him a sympathetic hug.

[PFA]

I didn't think I was going to write something for Valentine's Day, but then this morning I was attacked by a fic idea and I wrote it, sooo have some diabetes!

Waiting For You

SPOILER: Click to show

Satine sighed, gazing forlornly out the window. It was already so late, and Everett wasn't home from his diplomatic trip yet. Perhaps it was naïve to expect that he would be home by today, from such a long trip... but still, it would have been nice.

"Mommy, mommy!" came a familiar voice, as a bright-eyed young child bounded into the room. Her young son, Joffery, looked up at her with eager green eyes. "Mommy, come play with me!"

"Well..." Satine considered the offer. With Everett still gone, and with baby Reynold sleeping soundly, she didn't have anything else to do, so what was the harm? She smiled, nodding at the child. "Alright."

"Yay!" Little Joffery skipped around in a circle, before running up to his mother and tugging at her skirt. "Come on, let's go!"

"Oh my, where are we going?" Satine wondered, standing and following after the bundle of energy that was her son.

"Can we go to the gardens?" Joffery asked. "There's pretty flowers there, and birdies, and butterflies, and all sorts of things!"

"Oh, it sounds very exciting," Satine agreed with a laugh. "Sure, let's go to the gardens."

Joffery grinned from ear to ear, hurriedly leading Satine through the long corridors of Jade Manor to reach the beautiful gardens outside. By the time they finally got here, Satine had to stop to take a breath. That boy was awfully quick for having such short legs.

"Look at the pretty flowers!" Joffery chirped, immediately zipping over to look at some particularly floral shrubbery—clearly the boy was not running out of energy anytime soon.

"They are very pretty, aren't they?" Satine smiled, looking around at the scenery. That was one thing she liked about Corvus: it was a much warmer climate than her birth home of Veresia, allowing for such beautiful gardens even in the winter.

"I like the colors," Joffery remarked, reaching out to touch a particularly vibrant pink flower. Satine was watching closely to make sure he wouldn't damage it, but to her relief, he was actually very careful. Either way, his attention was quickly drawn away at the sound of a bird calling in the distance. "Bird! I wanna see the bird! Mommy, let's go find the bird!"

Satine chuckled. "Alright. Let's see if we can find it." She paused, listening carefully for the bird to call again. "I think it came from this way."

The two of them made their way through the gardens, moving quietly in hopes of not startling off the bird they were trying to find. Along the way, Joffery found himself frequently distracted by the flowers, stopping constantly to admire them. Satine was happy to indulge his whimsies, just waiting patiently until the boy decided to resume his search of the bird.

It was while Joffery was admiring a patch of purple pansies that the sound of fluttering wings caught their ears, alerting them to the presence of a nearby bird. Joffery immediately perked up, looking over just in time to see the bird fluttering from one tree to another. "It's the bird! Mommy, look!"

Satine followed Joffery's gaze, her smile broadening. "Yes, there it is. It looks like it's building a nest."

"Really?" Joffery gasped, clamoring to his mother's side to get a better look. "I can't see it! I wanna see!"

Satine chuckled, bending down and picking up the child, allowing him to get a better view. From his new vantage point, Joffery was able to plainly see the bird in question, and his smile broadened.

"I see it! I see it!" He clung to Satine's neck with one arm, pointing to the bird with the other. "There's the nest! Is it a mommy bird? Is it gonna lay eggs in there?"

"I bet it will, Joffery," Satine agreed.

Joffery was beaming, pleased with this information. He continued to watch the bird with great interest, merrily singing a song about birds. (Though he couldn't remember all of the words, so mostly he just sang the word "bird" over and over.) Satine smiled at him, glad to see her little boy so bright and curious about the world around him.

It's getting awfully late, she realized absently, noticing that the sun was beginning to set. Her thoughts drifted back to Everett, who had still not come home. At this rate, it was doubtful that he would be back today at all. I suppose it can't be helped, she thought to herself.

"We should probably go back inside before it gets dark," Satine said.

"Aww, but I wanna keep playing," Joffery whined.

"We can still play inside," Satine suggested with a smile. "I should probably check on Reynold. Would you like to go see your brother, Joffery?"

"Brother!" Joffery's eyes lit up again at this. "Yeah! Let's go see brother!"

Satine laughed, carrying Joffery back toward the manor. "Alright then, let's go see how he's doing."

She carried the boy through the gardens, and then through the halls of the manor, finally stopping when they reached the bedroom. As they approached the door, the familiar sound of a crying infant reached Satine's ears, and she frowned, finally setting Joffery down.

"Oh dear, what could the matter be?" she wondered, opening the door and entering the room. Joffery followed after her, peering past her to see what was going on.

Sure enough, when they got there, a nanny was holding the crying child, trying desperately to quiet him, but to no avail. She looked up when Satine entered, a wan smile crossing her face. "Ah, welcome back, my lady. Perhaps you can help calm him down?"

"Oh, Reynold, honey, it's okay. Mommy's here," Satine cooed, immediately moving to take the child from the nanny. The nanny readily handed him over, and Satine started gently rocking her son in her arms. "It's okay, honey."

"Aw, don't cry, brother!" Joffery chimed in, hurrying to his mother's side. And then, in hopes to soothe his sad brother, Joffery started singing. "Close your eyes, go to sleep, may your happy memories keep..."

Satine smiled, immediately recognizing the tune as a lullaby she herself would often sing to Joffery when he was younger. She decided to take the cue and started singing along with Joffery. "Soft and safe, here in my arms, I will keep you safe from harm..."

Baby Reynold was gratefully pacified by the soothing sound of his mother's voice, his crying petering off as he instead relaxed into Satine's arms. By the end of the song, his crying had stopped entirely, and he instead drifted back into a blissful slumber. Satine smiled, gently putting the child back in the crib.

The nanny let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, my lady. I swear, I tried feeding him, and changing him..." Smiling at Satine, she added, "I suppose sometimes it just needs a mother's touch."

"I helped!" Joffery piped in. "I sang for brother and made him happy!"

Satine chuckled, affectionately patting the boy's hair. "Yes you did, Joffery. You did good."

Joffery beamed at the praise, feeling proud of his accomplishments. He then wandered over to the crib, peering through the bars at the now sleeping Reynold. "Night night, brother."

Satine smiled at the two boys, before turning and nodding to the nanny. "And thank you, by the way, for taking care of him."

"Oh, think nothing of it, my lady," the nanny replied. "I'm only doing my job."

"Lady Satine?"

Satine blinked at the new voice, turning toward the source. It looked like it was one of the servants. "Yes? What is it?"

"Lord Everett's carriage just arrived in Solis," the servant told her. Satine's heart leapt at the news. Everett was home? She didn't think he would still be traveling this late!

"Daddy!" Joffery chirped, running over and tugging at Satine's skirt. "I wanna go see daddy!"

"Yes," Satine agreed, barely able to contain her own excitement. "Let's go see your father."

As the two of them made haste for the manor's entrance, Satine found that she had little trouble keeping up with Joffery this time, though she managed to refrain herself from running outright. They made it to the front doors just in time to see the green and gold-trimmed carriage pulling to a halt in front of the manor. Satine watched happily as a familiar man climbed out of the carriage, the setting sun illuminating his face and casting a long shadow behind him.

"Daddy!" Joffery immediately bolted past Satine, running up to give his father a hug. "Daddy, you're home!"

"Hello, Joffery," Everett replied, glancing down at the child clinging to his leg. He then looked up at Satine as she approached him. "I apologize for being so late; there was trouble with one of the horses."

"It's quite alright," Satine assured him. "I wasn't sure if you would be home at all today."

"Neither was I," Everett admitted. "After the delays, I thought we might have to stop for the night, but we were close enough that we opted to just keep going." Glancing at the setting sun, he added, "At least we made it before the daylight was gone."

"Yes, indeed." Satine nodded, her smile faltering slightly. Had he forgotten, she wondered? With everything that was going on, she wouldn't have been surprised if he had forgotten...

"Though on that note, Joffery, I believe it is about your bedtime," Everett said. "You should go back inside and change into your nightclothes."

"Aww," Joffery whined. "But will you tell me about the trip tomorrow?"

Everett nodded. "If you like."

"Yay!" Joffery seemed satisfied with this, skipping back to the manor happily. Satine chuckled, amused by the boy's enthusiasm as she started to follow after him.

"Satine, wait."

Satine halted, her heart beating in anticipation as she turned to face her husband. "Yes?"

"Again, I'm sorry for being late. I tried to get here as soon as possible," Everett repeated, moving closer until she was within arm's reach of her. "But I wanted to give you this."

With that, he presented her with a small box, simple but elegant in its design. Satine graciously accepted the box, gasping in delight upon opening it and seeing what was inside—it was a beautiful golden necklace, inlaid with sparking green gemstones and weaved into a design that almost resembled a spider's web.

"Oh, Everett, it's beautiful," she breathed. "Thank you!"

Everett smiled at her, a stark contrast to his usual stoic expression. "Happy anniversary."

Satine laughed, throwing her arms around him and giving him a kiss. Of course he remembered. He always did.

[PFA]

Oh hey, it's our favorite Wooberon and a woob-dad! Collab with Celestial \ o /

Someone to Rely On

SPOILER: Click to show

It was a rare day indeed when Ambrose did not have some business to attend to. Today, however, he was faced with exactly that. There were no meetings up in the Keep nor were his services required by Galateo in any other capacity. All prior work had been taken care of so Kirin was given the day off, which, of course, he used to go see Leif. Nobody had made any plans to visit Ambrose either: Xavier, Elin, Karma, Laurie, Morgaine, Cyril, and all his other friends had other things going on today. Normally the Stallion would have spent the time working on an invention but even that was not possible: the parts he had requested from Clarissa were still not finished. That was no surprise: even if she worked on it non-stop, the tiny springs and gears were fiddly enough to take at least a few days to make.

So Ambrose took the time to relax. It was a hot June day, far too hot for a lifelong Bernian to enjoy being outside so instead, he took refuge in the least stuffy room of Stallion Manor: the great hall. With its wide windows, high ceilings and thick stone walls, it was perfect for keeping heat in and keeping it out. In the corner he had found a comfortable bench and sat down on it with a cool drink and a book he had borrowed from the Raven’s Keep: a recent history of the kingdom of Macarinth.

There was a tapping against the flagstones, followed by a soft whine from by his feet. Looking down, Ambrose found himself meeting the pleading brown eyes of his dog. Having caught his attention, Nutmeg wagged her tail and licked his hand before standing up onto her hind legs, resting her front paws on the bench in an attempt to climb up beside him. However, her jumps were too low and she landed heavily on the flagstones. Pulling herself up also resulted in failure.

Ambrose sighed, putting down his book. He placed a hand on Nutmeg’s rump and pushed until she had gotten her back legs in position to climb up. Happy to be next to her master, the dog settled and lay down on the bench, resting her head in his lap.

The Stallion took the moment to look over her. Nutmeg was a far cry from when she had first followed Kirin through the door of Stallion Manor. Her coat, despite being naturally scruffy, was healthy and glossy, and instead of ribs, she now had a healthy layer of fat on her from all the treats she scrounged up. Her stomach in particular was looking very rotund. No wonder she was having trouble getting on the bench.

He smiled, scratching her ear. “Woo, Nutmeg, what am I going to do with you? If you keep getting fat like this, we’ll have to reduce the amount of treats you get.”

His hand drifted over to her belly and patted it. Something patted back.

Ambrose blinked, wondering if he had imagined it. As if to confirm, he kept his hand on the same spot on Nutmeg’s belly, his attention focused fully on his palm. For a few moments there was nothing and then...movement. One that felt distinctly like something kicking. Followed by another, identical sensation in a different spot, just by his fingertips.

The Stallion froze, staring at Nutmeg. Something kicking inside a dog, especially a female dog who had suddenly gotten much rounder and heavier than she had been before…

So much for the free day. Ambrose leapt off from his seat, prompting Nutmeg to stare at him in confusion. Sensing her master’s sudden panic, she whimpered and prepared to leap off the bench to follow him.

He helped her jump off, taking care to make sure her landing was as gentle as possible and went to get her leash from where it was stored in the chest by the front door. As he opened it to take it out, a servant approached him, frowning.

“My lord, is everything alright?” she asked.

“I...I am not sure,” Ambrose replied, fidgeting with the leash as he spoke. “But I need to take Nutmeg to get checked.”

The servant looked at him, concerned. “Is she hurt? Did something happen?”

“Perhaps...” the Stallion looked up at the girl. “If I’m right, something is going to happen to her very soon.”

She frowned. “I’m not quite sure I understand, my lord…”

Ambrose sighed. “Soon, we might be welcoming puppies.”

***

His suspicions proved to be correct. It did not take long for the dog healer to confirm that Nutmeg was pregnant. The number of pups could not be established until they were born but it was clear by the movement within and how large Nutmeg was that it was going to be a large litter. As for how soon they could be born, an estimate was given of about two weeks: the dog was a month into her pregnancy.

Ambrose returned to the Manor with a confused frown on his face, still trying to process the information he had just received. Nevertheless, life went on. They needed to be prepared for it. Calling a meeting, he told the servants what was going on and what exactly they should expect soon. They responded with curious whispers and smiles, all except for one young man, almost a boy, who blanched at the news.

When the others were dismissed to go back to their duties, he hung back, his hands behind his back and his pale face turned right down at the floor. However, Ambrose recognised him right away: it was the young man he had assigned to watch Nutmeg for a day about a month ago when he had business up at the Keep.

Even before the servant approached him, the Stallion knew exactly what he was going to say.

“My Lord, I am so sorry!” the young man stammered out. “I was walking her by the lake but I fell asleep and woke to find her gone. When I found her, she seemed alright and I didn’t think much of it but...oh, Woo. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it would be a big deal but-” he almost burst into tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I’ll take one of the puppies home, I’ll do anything just please, don’t-”

“Calm down, I’m not going to punish you,” Ambrose put a comforting hand on the servant’s shoulder. Despite the Stallion’s soothing tone, the young man still flinched. “What is done is done, now all we have to do is live with the consequences Still,” he smiled gently. “I do appreciate you taking one of the pups. We can’t keep them here and they will need good homes eventually.”

“Ah, y-yes,” the young man shivered slightly and swallowed before bowing his head. “Thank you. I’ll ask my friends too. I’ll do all I can to help.”

“That is appreciated,” the Stallion patted his shoulder again. “We’re going to need the help.”

Help, however, was not in short supply. A fair number of the servants had owned dogs who had whelped and were glad to offer their experience. Thanks to them, Ambrose and the others set up a comfortable den for Nutmeg in his room in preparation for the pups. He also made sure to keep her water and food bowl topped up. The latter was especially important: Nutmeg spent almost all of her time gobbling down food without pausing for breath. The Stallion, however, did not mind: he would rather have her grow fat than have something happen to her or the puppies.

Two weeks went by in a flash. In the middle of the night, Ambrose woke up to the sounds of Nutmeg giving birth. After rousing the few servants who lived in the Manor permanently, they all did their bit to help the dog. Nobody got more than a wink of sleep that night, especially Ambrose who sat by her side, comforting her and encouraging her all while praying she would be alright.

By morning, their efforts paid off. Nutmeg lay curled up in her blankets with six scruffy puppies, ranging in colour from creamy white to light brown, wriggling like worms around her.

The next few days revolved solely around watching the puppies and their mother to make sure they were in good health. The doctor who had previously confirmed Nutmeg’s pregnancy came to examine her and to everyone’s relief, gave her and the pups a clean bill of health. Nutmeg herself took to motherhood as easily as breathing, tirelessly cleaning and nursing the puppies around the clock.

Life settled into this new normal. Ambrose had to keep going to the Keep to perform his duties as a royal advisor, leaving his dog and her offspring in the care of the servants. He did not stop receiving his regular visitors to the Manor either.

“My Lord?” a servant girl came to see him one day in his workshop, over a week after the pups had been born. “Lord Cyril Oberon is here for you.”

“I’ll be down shortly,” Ambrose replied, standing up while a little smile crept on his face. Cyril was a recent visitor to Medieville, arriving only a month ago, but the poor young man certainly needed all the help he could get. Help which Ambrose was more than happy to provide. The fact that Cyril had decided to come back at all spoke volumes.

He went downstairs to the sitting room where Cyril had been directed to wait and greeted him with a smile and a wave. “Lord Oberon, hello,” he said gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Hello, Lord Ambrose. I’m… better.” Cyril Oberon always seemed to be rather out of sorts, and today was no different. But after what he had been through, it was no surprise—three years of mind-altering potions wasn’t easy on a person. But the young lord seemed to be making a strong effort to keep focused this time, as he smiled politely at Ambrose. “How are you today?”

“Keeping very busy,” the Stallion replied with a wan smile. “The Shadow Council has forwarded several petitions along with proposals for legislation to address them so those need reviewing to present to Aldri- the king, and I have to make arrangements for my trip up north to visit my brother, which given all the latest complications I might have to delay, despite this weather being so hot...”

Ambrose exhaled and gestured dismissively with his hand. “But I shouldn’t go on. You’re here to relax, Cyril, not listen to an old man complain about small annoyances in his life. Now,” he folded his hands together. “Have you thought about what you want to do today? Do you want to see another part of the manor? Or we can just...talk? It’s up to you,” the Stallion gave him a smile, “As it always is.”

Cyril nodded as he listened to Ambrose, taking his time to carefully process the information. At Ambrose’s question, Cyril had to stop and think about it for quite a while—an unnaturally long while, though it was still a marked improvement from how he had been in the past.

“Well… it would be nice to see more of the manor,” he admitted. “But it would be nice to talk, too. Maybe… can we do both?”

Ambrose’s smile grew. “Of course, Lord Oberon. We can talk on the way,” he nodded empathetically and extended his hand out to Cyril invitingly. “Now, what would you like to see? You may name anything, even the private or servant quarters. I also asked the stewards and they provided me with plans of the Manor you can examine. Those are in my workshop.”

“Okay.” Cyril nodded. He paused again to consider his answer before continuing. “…I guess we could go to the workshop first, then. I’d like to see the plans.”

“Alright. I suppose it might help you decide what you want to see too. Come on then,” the Stallion gestured for Cyril to follow him and headed upstairs, walking along until they reached the workshop.

Nutmeg’s head shot up as soon as she heard the door opening, her tail smacking against the blanket pile. Upon seeing Cyril, however, she carefully stepped over her puppies and walked over to him, sniffing at his hand. The six pups, meanwhile, lay in a grunting, squeaking pile, with a few trying to drag themselves towards where their mother had gone.

“Ah, yes, I forgot to mention,” Ambrose patted Nutmeg on the head and looked over to the puppies. “She had a litter about ten days ago. I moved them here so I could keep a better eye on her and the puppies. You don’t mind, do you, Lord Oberon?”

“No, I don’t mind,” was Cyril’s response, though his gaze remained fixed on the puppies, as if trying to properly process the fact that they were there. After a while, he added, “They’re very cute.”

“They are,” the Stallion said with a smile, gazing at the litter as they wobbled around their blanket lair. He finally tore his eyes away, shooting a sideways glance at Cyril. “You can get a closer look if you want. I’m sure their mother won’t mind. Will you, Nutmeg?”

The dog by his side said nothing but wagged her tail as Ambrose patted her head, only lifting her head up when he scratched her behind the ear to better enjoy the sensation.

“Oh, um…” Cyril hesitated for some time before finally replying, “I wouldn’t want to get in the way, though.”

Ambrose blinked. “Why do you think you’d be in the way?”

Cyril froze, seeming confused as he tried to figure out a response. Eventually he frowned, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he spoke. “Do… doesn’t Nutmeg need to take care of her children?”

“She does but that doesn’t mean you can’t get close,” the Stallion gave the dog another scratch. “If she needs to get to her puppies, she’ll go around you. They do need to become more familiar with humans anyway.”

He walked over to Cyril’s side, carefully putting his hand on the Oberon’s shoulder. “Nobody is going to force you to go there but nobody is preventing you from going over there if you want to. Don’t worry. I know they’re tiny but me and Nutmeg are both here. It will be alright.”

“O… okay,” Cyril admitted, smiling faintly. After a moment of hesitation, he carefully moved over to where the puppies were, kneeling down to get a better look at them.

The puppies continue to wriggle and yelp, exploring around the blankets. One of them- a small cream-coloured thing whose eyes had not fully opened yet- crawled a little bit too far out from the blanket nest. Before either Ambrose or his mother could react he rolled down from its safe embrace down onto the cold stone flour.

“Wh-whoa, hey, careful,” Cyril mumbled. He paused, as if unsure that he was making the right decision, before finally deciding to gingerly pick up the lost puppy and place it back on the pile of blankets.

The puppy did not even seem to realise what had happened. Only when Cyril took his hand away did he raise up his nose, catching the unfamiliar smell.

Nutmeg immediately trotted over to where her pups were, sniffing and licking each one to make sure they were alright. A few of them tried to wriggle towards her but the one by Cyril stayed, still curious about this new person.

“You can pet them, if you want,” Ambrose said quietly, kneeling beside the Oberon. “It won’t hurt.”

Cyril nodded, carefully reaching out and petting the puppy in front of him. “Hello there, little one.”

The puppy’s thin fur was silken beneath Cyril’s fingers and its tiny body was comfortably warm, like a summer breeze. He lifted up its head, trying to see the Oberon with it's not quite open eyes.

Ambrose smiled. “See, it’s alright,” his eyes flickered between Cyril and the puppy. “Have you ever had dogs, Lord Oberon? Besides hunting hounds, of course.”

Cyril shook his head. “I’ve never had any pets.”

“Ah. Well, neither did I, at least not until Master Mao brought in Nutmeg,” the Stallion glanced at the dog, who had by now settled down to let the puppies eat “But they can be good companions. Especially when you feel down.”

The pup, sensing food, turned away from Cyril and began to scramble back towards its mother. Ambrose watched it with gentle eyes. “I think that one likes you. But alas, for now, his mum is the most important thing.”

“Yeah,” Cyril replied, frowning as he stared thoughtfully at the mother and her children.

The Stallion glanced sideways at the young Oberon. “Is something wrong?”

“Sorry,” Cyril mumbled out of habit. He hesitated for a moment, before adding, “I just… I hope Priam’s doing okay.”

Priam was Cyril’s son, a poor child born from a false romance. While Cyril was stuck in a love potion haze, Priam had been largely neglected, much to Cyril’s regret. He was being taken care of while Cyril recovered, by someone he trusted, but still… if only things could have been different.

“Ah. I should have realised I’m sorry,” Ambrose said quietly. His hand drifted over the flagstones towards Cyril, though he did not actually touch him. “He’ll be alright. He’s being looked after isn’t he? By the Jades? It’s no substitute for his parent, I know, but you can’t take that responsibility just yet. You need to heal first.”

A small smile appeared on his face. “Still, the fact that you’re thinking about him is by itself a good sign. You do care about your son, don’t you?”

Cyril nodded. “I feel bad for him… he didn’t deserve what happened. He didn’t deserve…” He winced, rubbing his head to fend off a headache. He opted not to finish that sentence, instead saying, “But… I’m sure Joffery and the others are taking good care of him.”

“I’m sure they are too,” Ambrose’s voice was gentle and soothing. “And you will be able to as well, Cyril, when you have recovered. That should be your priority for now: recovering,” he pushed himself up from his knees, offering the Oberon a hand. “Now that the pups are occupied, do you want to look at the sketches?”

“I… yeah.” Cyril nodded, haltingly accepting the outstretched hand. “That sounds good.”

***

They had spent a while in Ambrose’s workshop looking over the Manor’s plans, something which the Stallion was pleased to see Cyril taking a great interest in. The pups, after finishing their meal, fell asleep with Nutmeg remaining curled around them, and mostly slept through the rest of the Oberon’s visit. When Cyril had come to the Manor the next week, the puppies and Nutmeg had been let out into the garden to enjoy the sunshine. Their paths barely crossed that time.

However, the week after that, when Cyril was let into the Manor by a servant, the front entrance hall was filled with a chorus of joyful yips. Several pups were playing with each other with the rest crawling over their mother or over Ambrose’s lap.

“Ah, Cyril, hello,” the Stallion remarked, smiling sheepishly and gesturing down at the puppies. “Give me a few moments. They have gotten quite energetic, as you can see.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Cyril replied, making careful steps as if afraid he would step on a puppy. “They’ve grown quickly.”

“They have- oh, careful!” Ambrose picked up a puppy as it lost its balance, falling over on its back. Once he had corrected it, he gave it a gentle pet across its back. “They are still rather wobbly on their feet though.”

The puppies, meanwhile, had noticed Cyril. A few tore themselves away from their games and wandered on shaky paws towards him.One of them was pale-cream. With his siblings, they milled around the Oberon’s feet, catching his scent.

Cyril smiled, bending down and delicately patting the pups on their heads. “Hello there. It’s good to see you again.”

The puppies lifted up their noses towards his hand, sniffing at him. The cream-coloured one in particular nudged his fingers with his wet nose several times. Slowly, his tail began to wriggle back and forth and he tottered towards him, climbing up on his knees.

“I think he recognises you,” Ambrose remarked, getting up and walking towards Cyril. Nutmeg followed behind him, keeping a wary eye on her children.

Cyril laughed lightly, scratching the puppy behind the ears. “You’re a friendly one, aren’t you?”

“That one is, certainly, ” Ambrose remarked, watching as the puppy sniffed around Cyril’s hand. “Though they’re all quite friendly so far. They take after their mother,” he smiled wryly as an idea crossed his mind. “Lord Oberon, try lying down.”

Cyril hesitated. “Um… why?”

“I’ve discovered that if anybody does that, the puppies won’t be able to resist crawling all over them. It’s very sweet,” Ambrose said before giving him a nod. “If you want to try that, of course. It is, as always, your choice.”

“Oh.” Cyril paused, taking a moment to process the information. Then, he slowly nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.”

The puppies watched curiously as Cyril lay down. It was not the cream one that acted first but rather one of its siblings, a large cinnamon-brown puppy that scrambled up his side and began to totter about on wobbly legs across his stomach, sniffing at the folds of his clothes. The other pups soon followed, slowly clambering up onto the Oberon’s body and sniffing around him. One even came up to his face and gave him slobbery a kiss on the lips, prompting a chuckle from Cyril.

The cream puppy, however, remained by Cyril’s legs, trying to climb up. Even when it finally managed to scramble up on his thigh, blocked by its siblings, it could not get any further. Dejected, it lowered its head and began to whine. A poorly placed paw and a lack of balance and the puppy tumbled down from the Oberon’s leg, landing on the floor. Though it appeared unhurt, its whimpering reached a crescendo pitch.

“Aw, here, it’s okay,” Cyril said, carefully maneuvering under the pile of puppies to try and grab hold of the fallen pup. Once he got a good hold, he scooped it up and carefully placed it on a puppy-free spot on his chest.

The puppy relaxed, settling down against the warmth of Cyril’s body. Soon, however, it got bored and began to snuffle around, exploring the folds of Cyril’s tunic. Nutmeg, who had rushed over, however, was not so easily calmed. She sniffed and licked the puppy from many different angles, poking it with her nose as she tried to reassure herself it was okay.

“Hush, girl, it’s fine. All your babies are having fun exploring,” Ambrose said quietly, stroking her back before turning to Cyril, smiling widely. “And are you having fun letting them explore you, Cyril?”

“Yes,” Cyril replied, nodding the best he could from the floor. As another puppy licked his face, he laughed. “It tickles.”

The Stallion blinked, surprised at hearing Cyril laughing. “If it gets too much, we’ll get them off for you,” he watched as one of the pups slid off the Oberon and placed him back onto Cyril’s chest, only for the puppy to do the same thing again. “Looks like they aren’t keen to leave you alone though. It doesn’t surprise me; they’re probably bored of only having their mum, me, Kirin and the servants to play with.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind,” Cyril said, patting one of the puppies on the head. “I guess I’ll need to get up eventually, though.”

“Yes, you probably will,” Ambrose laughed softly. One of the puppies, meanwhile, crawled up along Cyril’s chest and began chewing on his collar. As soon as he noticed that, the Stallion scooped the puppy up, gently working its jaws free from the cloth.

“Sorry about that,” he said, putting the pup into his lap and stroking it. “They’re teething so sometimes they will chew things,” the Stallion smiled. “I didn’t notice before, which is one of the rugs in my room now has holes in it..”

“Hm? Oh. It’s okay,” Cyril replied. “I have other clothes.”

“Not with you though, I assume?” Ambrose asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. “I would not want you going back to Master Leif with torn clothes. He’ll ask what I have been doing to you.”

Another one of the pups slid off Cyril and began to paw around his head. Finding a stray lock of the Oberon’s pale blond hair, it began to try to gnaw on it, causing Ambrose to frown.

“That’s enough of that,” he put down the puppy he had been holding next to Nutmeg and took the other one off Cyril. “You cannot chew on Cyril,” he put the pup next to its sibling. It immediately forgot about the Oberon and began to play with its littermate, yipping and tugging and at the other puppy’s ear.

Ambrose smiled, watching this. “It’s always nice to have a sibling to play with,” he remarked idly. “That way you never get bored, or lonely.”

“Yeah,” Cyril agreed, frowning in thought as he scratched one of the puppies behind the ear. “I wonder how my brother is doing? I hope he’s okay.”

The Stallion’s expression shifted to a similar frown. “You could write to him and ask?” he suggested. “I’m sure your family- not just your brother- would like to know what is happening with you. You’ve not seen them for a while, have you?”

“Maybe.” Cyril fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. “I just… I feel bad. I think I ignored him too, after… after…” He trailed off, wincing at the oncoming headache. “N-no… I shouldn’t think about it…”

“Cyril?” Ambrose’s voice was suddenly filled with concern. He leaned over to the young man, stretching his hands out towards him, stopping just a hair away from touching him. “I’m sure he forgives you. That is what family does. It’s what brothers do: they forgive.”

He carefully lifted one of the puppies away from Cyril, just in case, with Nutmeg taking another away in her jaws. The cream-coloured pup whimpered, burying his muzzle into Cyril’s clothes. A faint smile crossed the Oberon’s face, and he patted the puppy on the head.

“I guess you’re right,” Cyril admitted. With most of the puppies having been moved off of him, he took the cream-colored puppy in his arms and sat up straight. “Still, he… my family didn’t deserve what happened. They should be happy.”

Ambrose took a risk and put a hand on Cyril’s shoulder. “Nobody deserves what happened, least of all you. It was not your fault so you shouldn't blame yourself” he gave him a gentle smile. “I think they will be very, very happy when you feel better, Cyril, and I think you are making progress towards that. So perhaps they ought to hear about it?”

The puppy in the Oberon’s arms crept slowly towards his hands, giving them a lick and lifting his head up weakly to look at him. His tail twitched from side to side as he attempted to wag.

“…Yeah.” Cyril smiled slightly, taking some comfort in gently stroking the puppy’s soft fur. After some consideration, he said, “It’s a good idea. I’ll think about it.”

“Even a short note is better than nothing. However, you ought to take your time. Don’t force anything you cannot do,” Ambrose glanced down at the puppy in Cyril’s arms. “You like that little one a lot, don’t you?”

“I guess so,” Cyril replied, glancing down at the puppy. It stared back at him with big brown eyes, prompting a small smile from the Oberon. “He seems to like me, at least.”

“Yes,” Ambrose gave the puppy a scratch behind its ear. “He’s a sweet little creature. Definitely one of Nutmeg’s children; he’s got her temperament.”

He gazed fondly at the little pup. “And a dog can be very good for relaxing oneself, even- especially when you’re having troubles.”

Cyril nodded. “Yeah. I already feel better. …Thank you.”

The Stallion continued to smile. “You know...these pups cannot stay here forever. Three of the servants have offered to take them in once they are old enough to leave Nutmeg but that still leaves three other puppies,” he gestured with his head down at the pup in Cyril’s arms. “If you want to, that little one can be yours.”

“R-really?” Cyril blinked, staring at the puppy. The puppy lifted its muzzle up, staring back at him before wriggling a little in his hands. “I’ve never had a pet before… I wouldn’t know how to take care of him.”

“You can learn, can’t you? It will be a while before they are ready to be parted from their mother so there is still plenty of time,” Ambrose replied. “Besides, I can tell you from personal experience that nothing helps with recovery than having something else relying on you and someone who will always be there to comfort you when you’re distressed. Since you seem to like that pup, well, he’s the best one for the job, is he not?”

“I…” Cyril’s brow furrowed, deep in thought. After a stretch of silence, he replied, “I’ll… have to think about it.”

“Alright,” the Stallion nodded and reached out, petting the puppy’s head. “He will not be going anywhere any time soon. Even if you decide not to take him, you can still come visit,” his eyes turned back to Cyril. “Between you and me, I think it might be beneficial for you, to have a companion. But it’s your decision and your decision alone. Even if they help you, a dog is still a good deal of work.”

“Y-yeah.” Cyril nodded. “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

***

Over the next several weeks, the puppies continued to grow, becoming more energetic and playful with every single day. Not only were they spending more time away from Nutmeg but they were also starting to get curious about other people who came to the Manor. This included Cyril, who still came to visit Ambrose, but none of them paid him as much attention as the cream coloured pup, who always rushed out to greet him and nuzzle him whenever he had a chance.

The day finally arrived when the puppies were old enough to go to their new homes. Two had already been adopted by the servants, one of which had been the young man who had neglected to keep an eye on Nutmeg during her walk, as he had promised. The third had promised to pick his up once he returned from visiting his mother.

Though Ambrose was sad to see the pups leave, he was nevertheless glad that they were going to good homes. At the very least, the Manor was much quieter without them around.

The topic of Cyril adopting one, however, was still an open one. Ambrose had not brought it up with the Oberon during his subsequent visits to the manor, instead wanting Cyril to take the initiative first. It was no different today, when the young nobleman had come to visit. As always, he was greeted by the cream-coloured pup running out to say hello.

“You’ve really gotten big, haven’t you?” Cyril cooed, patting the cream puppy on the head. “You were so tiny when I first met you.”

The puppy yipped, wagging his tail at a speed that almost made it invisible. He rolled over on his belly, tail still wagging and his tongue lopsidedly sticking out his mouth, looking up imploringly at Cyril.

“They’ve been growing well, though you wouldn’t be surprised if you saw how much they’ve been eating,” Ambrose said with a laugh as he walked down the stairs. He raised his hand, greeting Cyril. “It’s good to see you again, and not just because that little one has been looking forward to your visit,” he remarked wryly.

Cyril chuckled, rubbing the puppy’s belly. “Do you really like me that much?”

The pup yipped and kicked his leg as Cyril hit the particular spot on his belly before rolling back over and racing around his feet, inviting the Oberon to play.

“I think so, Cyril,” Ambrose remarked, smiling warmly as he watched the little pup’s enthusiastic pawing at Cyril. “This little one doesn’t get so excited for anybody else.”

“Really?” Cyril searched for a toy for the puppy to play with, eventually picking up a knotted rope and letting the dog tug on it. He held onto the other end, chuckling as the pup pulled against his grasp. “Well, then maybe…”

His voice trailed off in hesitation. Though the Oberon had enough presence of mind to continue holding onto the dog toy, his gaze was distant with troubled thought.

The puppy tugged harder, trying to pull not just the toy out of the Oberon’s grasp but his mind out of whatever was bothering him. Ambrose patted the puppy’s head and kneeled down beside Cyril, looking at him with sympathetic eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no, it’s just…” Cyril massaged his forehead as he tried to work through his thoughts. “…I’ve been thinking about what you said, about taking the puppy home with me, but… what if I’m not good enough?”

“What makes you think that, Cyril?” the Stallion asked, keeping his voice gentle.

“I don’t know how to take care of a dog,” Cyril explained. “I-I’m still taking care of myself. What if I forget about him, like how…” He trailed off, wincing as unpleasant thoughts entered his mind.

Understanding dawned on Ambrose: the topic of Priam had come up before, when the puppy was much smaller. “I see. That is an understandable worry,” he said, nodding, before turning back to Cyril. “But I think having this little one around will be good for you. He will take work, of course, but he will also provide you with love and companionship, something which I think you will appreciate. When you are going through a difficult time, a little friendship is worth a lot, as I am sure you know.”

The Stallion paused. “If you don’t think you are ready for this, I understand, nor will I force you to do something you’re not comfortable with. But perhaps, in taking care of him, you ‘ll slowly get used to taking care of others? So that someday, maybe, you can do the same for your son?” he folded his hands in his lap. “And I will repeat that the best way to help oneself is to help others.”

“I want to. I think… it would be nice,” Cyril told him, wiping away a tear that had been forming in his eye. “I’m just… scared.”

“It’s alright to be scared,” Ambrose said. From his pocket, he produced a handkerchief, handing it to the Oberon. “But, Cyril, that does not mean you should not try anyway. It isn’t like you will be alone in taking care of the pup either,” he smiled. “I’ll give you all the advice I can so you are well-prepared to look after him. But- and this is important-” the Stallion lifted a finger. “Whether you take him or not is ultimately your choice. Not mine or anybody else’s: yours..”

Cyril accepted the handkerchief, silent for a moment in thought. “If I take him, you… you’d help me?”

“Of course,” Ambrose replied without even a moment’s hesitation. “I have helped you so far in everything else, so why not this too? Especially considering I’m the one who suggested you take him after all.”

A hint of a smile crossed the Oberon’s face as he glanced back down at the puppy, who was looking back at him with big, pleading eyes. Cyril took a deep breath, before saying, “Well… I suppose it can’t hurt to try it. At least for a while.”

“Take him for a little while as a trial of sorts, just to see how you cope. If you are struggling too much, I can take him back, but if you like him and feel comfortable looking after him, he can stay with you,” the Stallion glanced down at the pup milling around Cyril’s legs. “It is something he seems to want at least.”

Cyril chuckled lightly, patting the puppy on the head. “I do think it would be nice having him around.”

“Good. That’s the most important thing,” Ambrose said, nodding.

The puppy yipped, licking Cyril’s hand and wagging his tail. This earned a smile from the Stallion who reached out, petting the cream-coloured pup’s back. “Though if you plan to keep him, he needs a name,” he remarked, glancing up at Cyril. “Do you have anything in mind? Or do you need time to think about it?”

“A name?” Cyril paused, pondering this. “…I don’t know. I’d have to think about it.”

Ambrose nodded. “Alright. Give it some thought. I named Nutmeg after the colour of her fur but you might have a different idea. In the end, however, it’s not the name that matters the most, it’s how you relate to each other,” he scooped the pup up from the floor, holding him out to Cyril. The puppy wagged its tail as it saw the Oberon, clearly eager to get to him.

“Fur color…” Cyril accepted the puppy in his arms, stroking his fur thoughtfully. “The color reminds me of sandstone. Maybe…” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “…Would Sandy be a good name?”

“I don’t know. Do you think it’s a good name, Cyril?” Ambrose asked, a knowing smile on his face. “He is your puppy after all.”

“I think… it’s probably a good name,” was Cyril’s response. He glanced down at the puppy, adding, “How do you feel about that name?”

The puppy yipped, wagging his tail so fast it was almost a blur. He tried to scramble up to lick Cyril’s face but only succeeded in dribbling over his tunic.

Ambrose laughed. “I think he likes it,” he smiled at the Oberon. “Though he probably would have liked any name you picked for him, Cyril.”

Cyril chuckled, scratching the newly christened Sandy behind the ear. “I suppose we may as well go with Sandy, then. Would you like to come see where I’m staying, little one? I don’t think Baron Marson will mind.”

Sandy continued wagging his tail and stretched out in the Oberon’s hands, exposing his belly for further petting. Cyril smiled. This could be the start of something nice, something that Cyril desperately needed.

[PFA]

Whoa, it's another collab with Celestial! It's cute and blasphemous 8D

An Unlikely Pair - Part 1

SPOILER: Click to show

It had been an overall exhausting trip. Recently, there had been an increase of skirmishes happening along the Courdonian border, which Corvus’ own forces had been working hard to combat. It all came to a head when one of House Jade’s own fireknights, Major Anders Escalus, was killed by Courdonian slave raiders—since Sir Anders had been close friends with Lord Joffery Jade’s brother, it prompted the Jade Lord to send his heir to the Kythian capital of Medieville to speak to the king about the matter.

Lord Everett Jade II had come out of a particularly long set of meetings feeling the need to unwind: he had handled political affairs before, but never one quite this intense. He ended up taking a walk through the—then, thankfully—quiet streets of the capital, eventually stopping and sitting by the lake. He took deep breaths, running a hand through his blond hair as he let himself relax. He was doing fine. Everything was going to be fine.

He barely had time to think that before he heard a loud squeal from the bushes. It was followed by a young boy who burst out onto the lake shore with twigs and branches stuck in the curls of his eye-searingly bright red hair.

“Get back here, you little rascal!” an angry voice called from the woods like a dog snapping at his heels.

The child bit his lip and clutched something closer to his chest, his blue eyes dashing around in panic until they settled on Everett. A wide grin burst across his face. Without a moment to spare, he rushed up to the Jade and leaned down beside him, taking several deep gulps of air. Once he had caught his breath, he shoved the object in his arms into Everett’s lap, an object that upon closer examination was a sealed, corked bottle.

“Here, mister, guard this!” his wide smile made the freckles dotting his cheeks shift up across his face. “I was never here!”

Everett blinked in surprise. “What—”

The boy did not hesitate for another second before dashing off down the lake shore, his heels flashing. No sooner had he disappeared from sight than two other people burst out from where the boy had emerged. A young man and woman in simple but well-tailored clothes, one carrying a wicker basket and the other a leather satchel. What was extraordinary about them was the uncanny resemblance to the child that had just run by. The young man, certainly, with his bright red hair and freckles could easily have been an older copy of the latter, and even though the young woman’s long locks were a less offensive honey blonde colour, her own freckles and blue eyes made up for that deficit. Despite a marked difference in age, it was impossible to think the trio were anything other than siblings.

The young man’s gaze dashed around the lake shore. “Did you see where he went?”

“No,” his sister shook her head and glanced around briefly, her eyes finally settling on Everett. She scanned him with her eyes, examining him before hitching up her skirts and approaching.

“Hello,” the girl exclaimed, bowing her head slightly. “Have you seen a little boy go by? He’s about this tall,” she held her hand up just above her waist. “Red hair, freckles, was carrying a-”

A deep sigh escaped from her mouth as she saw the bottle. “Ennis…” she shook her head and yelled back to her older brother. “Emil, he’s dropped the wine! He’s probably gone along the lake, go after him! I’ll stay here.”

The young man nodded and dropped his satchel beside his sister, taking off in the direction in which the child had gone. His sister hoisted the bag up onto her shoulder and smiled down at Everett.

“I’m sorry. Our little brother grabbed that from us,” she gestured with her head down at the bottle. “And it seems our he got you mixed up in his games too. You have my sincerest apologies- Oh!” her eyes widened as she caught the colour of his clothes. “Lord Jade.”

“Oh, um…” Everett glanced down at the bottle in his lap, finally recognizing it as being a bottle of wine. Through all the commotion, he hadn’t the time to process all that was happening. He carefully picked it up, handing it to her. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.”

Silently grateful, she took the bottle and placed it into the blasket, covering it with a cloth. “Emil- my older brother- had the bright idea to sneak some out, except he showed it to me on the way and Ennis got curious. We did not want to give him a bottle of booze, but-” the girl laughed, clearly and melodiously, “There’s no stopping Ennis once he has his heart set on something,”

She smiled down at him. “I’m sorry that we interrupted your peace, your lordship. This is probably the last thing you wanted when you came here today.”

“No, it’s alright. I suppose I could have used a distraction as much as a break.” Everett gave a small laugh, shaking his head. “I hope I’m not in your way, miss… is it alright if I ask your name?”

“Roslyn’s my name, and no, you’re not in my way. If anything, you could say we’re in your way,” Roslyn gave off a giggle and glanced down at the empty space beside the Jade. “Mind if I sit? Only this stuff is quite heavy,” she held the basket up slightly and shifted the satchel on her shoulder for emphasis.

“It’s nice meeting you, miss Roslyn. I’m Lord Everett,” Everett replied with a polite nod. “And no, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” she replied and dumped her things on the ground, sitting down delicately between them and Everett. Folding her hands in her lap, she turned and gave him a soft, sweet smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, Lord Everett. So, what brings you to the shores of Lake Plume? It is quite a way to go from Solis, is it not?”

“Oh, well, I came out to Medieville for political reasons,” he told her. “But I came here to the lake to rest for a bit.” With a sigh, he added, “All those politics can get to be a bit much.”

“Hmm, I’m sure. I consider myself lucky I never have to deal with that,” Roslyn replied, her voice full of sympathy. “I hope it’s nothing too bad...if you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“It’s, well… some issues in Corvus,” Everett said, deciding that she didn’t need to know all the details about the Courdonian slave raiders. “I’m sure we’ll get it sorted out, it’s just exhausting.”

“I can imagine,” the young woman shot him another smile, leaning a bit closer. “But I’m certain you’ll manage. You must be trained for these sorts of things, and you’ll have to deal with them when you’re Lord too, right?”

Everett paused, momentarily surprised that she recognized him as the heir of House Jade. But he shrugged it off, realizing she was probably just familiar with his name. “I am, and I will, yes. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and best of luck to you,” Roslyn chirruped before looking back out across the lake. “Me and my brothers aren’t from Medieville either. We’re visiting mum’s uncle, but he was not feeling well today so we thought we’d go out by ourselves,” she pointed up at the sun shining down upon them. “And on a day like this, why not go to the lake?”

“I can hardly blame you. It’s very relaxing,” Everett agreed. Gesturing to the basket next to her, he added, “Here for a picnic, I’m guessing?”

She nodded. “Yes, you’re right, and maybe a swim too. Emil and Ennis will probably drag me into their games as well, as boys do. Especially brothers,” she turned to Everett and laughed softly. “Though you don’t strike me as the type to do that sort of thing, Lord Everett.”

“Well, I do know what it’s like to have brothers,” Everett replied, amused. “Four of them, no less.”

“Four?! Oh, you poor thing!” Roslyn exclaimed in mock horror. “I have three, and they’re bad enough, although it’s only Emil and Ennis who are truly troublesome, as you saw,” for a second, her smile acquired a devilish hint. “But they don’t dare make trouble for me.”

Within a few moments, however, her expression returned to its normal sweetness. “What about you, Lord Everett? Do those four brothers give you any trouble?”

“Some of them do,” Everett said, rolling his eyes. “Some more than others.”

“Ah, those kinds of siblings,” Roslyn leaned in conspiratorially, the devilish smile returning. “I’ll give you a hint; always make sure you know things about them which they don’t want anyone else to know. It’s how I make sure none of my siblings bother me.”

Everett chuckled. “I’ll have to keep that in mind. I’m assuming you have sisters as well, then?”

“Yes, to my great misfortune,” the young woman said with a small laugh and rubbed her forehead. “I love them both but they bicker and squabble constantly and it often falls to me to break them up,” she sighed. “That is the joy of being the oldest sister, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Everett replied. “I only have one sister, myself. She’s a bundle of sunshine, though, which can be… a lot to keep up with.”

“That’s how it is for bundles of sunshine. At least, that’s definitely the case with Ennis,” Roslyn shrugged and smiled. “But I bet you’re a good big brother to her, right? Protecting her from the other four boys and their tricks.”

“I try to be. Or at least as much as I can be,” Everett said. “I’m often busy with House responsibilities, but I do what I can.”

“I’m sure you do,” she shot him another sweet smile and tilted her head. “Still...I hope even with your responsibilities you can have a little fun now and then, with or without your siblings. It must be awful to work all the time, even if you’re the heir.”

“I’m used to it,” Everett told her, “but I don’t work all of the time. I do get some leisure time.” Gesturing to the lake, he added, “Like now, for instance.”

“That’s true,” Roslyn laughed, looking back over the lake. “Well, I hope you’re enjoying it...and that I’m not in your way too much.”

“No, it’s alright,” Everett replied with a smile. “It’s been nice getting to meet you.”

She smiled back but before she could manage a reply there was a loud yelping from the bushes behind them, followed by an explosion of foliage as Emil burst through. His clothes were stained with green, twigs were stuck in his hair and there was even a small gash across his cheek where a branch had cut him. However, he was beaming widely and as she approached, it was easy to see why: clutched firmly under his arm was Ennis, kicking and squirming like a rabbit in the claws of a hawk. No matter how much he fought though, he remained very much secure in his brother’s grip.

“I got him, Ros! The little rascal isn’t going anywhere!” he held Ennis up as if displaying him.

“Let me go, Emil! I didn’t do nothing!” Ennis aimed a kick at his brother’s stomach but Emil easily dodged it.

“Which means you did something, and you got to be punished,” he wrapped the boy in a bear hug and ruffled his hair with his fist, “This’ll teach you to steal what’s ours!”

Ennis squealed and flopped in his brother’s grip. “I just wanted to looook!”

“And now that you’ve gotten a look, are you happy?” Emil cried and cuddled Ennis closer. “Shall we go to the beach now and swim?”

The younger boy’s eyes lit up. “Beach! Beach!”

Grinning, the oldest of the siblings glanced up at Roslyn. “Ros, are you coming?” his grin acquired a hint of slyness. “That is, if we’re not interrupting anything.”

“No, Emil,” she rolled her eyes and stood up, dusting off her dress delicately and smiling down at Everett. “I suppose we best get going...unless…”

Her head shot up towards her brother, her eyes alight with sudden, new enthusiasm. “Do you think we can take him with us?”

Emil raised an eyebrow, meeting his sister’s gaze. Roslyn stared back and for a few moments, the two siblings were silent as if engaged in a mental battle of wits. Soon, however, he turned away and shrugged. “Why not?” he grinned at Roslyn and then at Everett in turn. “The more the merrier, right?”

“Exactly,” Roslyn remarked, putting her hands on her hips before turning back to Everett. “That is, if you want to come, your lordship.”

Everett was surprised by the offer, finding himself unsure how to respond until she asked him about it. He thought on it for a moment, before shrugging and standing. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

A large grin spread across Roslyn’s face before she saw fit to cover it with her hand. “You’ll have fun, I promise. At the very least, more fun than you’d have discussing dry, miserable politics up in the Keep.”

“Indeed. I’m sure Ros would be happy to show you a good time,” Emil smirked at her. “Won’t you, sis?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, Emil. I will show Lord Everett all the respect that befits somebody in his position.”

Her older brother quirked an eyebrow. “And the fact that he’s a J-”

“Say, Emil, what about that young man behind the stables?” Roslyn gave him a sweet smile, batting her eyelashes innocently. “The one you’ve been skipping your lessons to see and I told mum I know nothing about?”

He suddenly went pale before shaking his head. “Point taken.”

“Good,” she continued to smile at him as though nothing was wrong. “So...where are we going? Did you spot any nice places while you were chasing our little thief?”

Emil nodded. “There’s a beautiful beach just up ahead with rocks to sit on. It should be good for us all,” he grabbed Ennis by the hand before the boy could wander off, and picked up the satchel with the wine bottle. “I’ll lead the way?”

“Alright,” Roslyn picked up the basket she was carrying earlier and looked back at Everett jr.. “Follow us then. I promise you won’t regret this, your lordship.”

Everett raised an eyebrow, watching the exchange between the two siblings. He couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was something he was missing, something important that he couldn’t quite recall. Either way, he shrugged, following Roslyn and her brothers to the beach. He could worry about that later.

The beach that Emil had found was indeed beautiful. Forest gave way to smooth pebbles which eventually surrendered to sand, with larger, chunkier boulders standing off to the side, flanking the space like guards flanking a palace gate. The lake water was clear and gave off a cool breeze, which since it was blowing into Medieville, smelled of fresh water and grass from the fields beyond.

Roslyn’s eyes widened as soon as she saw it. “You were right,” she cried, grinning and turning to her brother. “It really is nice.”

“Well, of course. I wouldn’t lie to you, Ros,” Emil snorted and approached her, scooping the basket out of her hands. “I’ll go put these somewhere safe so the animals don’t get it. You stay here and look after Ennis,” he winked at her. “Hopefully he won’t get between you and Lord Jade.”

She rolled her eyes again. “There’s not much to get between anyway,” the young woman put her hands on her little brother’s shoulders, holding him tightly and smiling at Emil. He gave a wave and headed into the trees, looking for a secure spot. Once he was out of sight, Roslyn turned to Everett. “Don’t mind my brother; he’s sweet but he’s an awful tease.”

Everett had raised an eyebrow at Emil’s comment, but said nothing. To Roslyn, he replied, “It’s fine. I know how siblings are.”

“I bet you do,” Roslyn replied.

“Can we go swimming now?” Ennis tugged at her hands. “I want to swim.”

“We can go swimming, just get your clothes off first,” she told him. Her brother squealed and lifted his arms, in response to which Roslyn began to pull off his shirt. “You going to join us, Lord Everett?” Roslyn smiled up at the Jade. “A swim is good on a day like today.”

“Oh, er… I’d best not. I didn’t bring any swimwear with me,” Everett told her, gesturing to the freshly tailored clothes he was wearing.

“Swim in your underthings then. It’s what the rest of us are going to do,” she shrugged and gave him a sly smile. “I won’t look, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Everett’s face turned red at the suggestion. “I, uh, I’d rather not.”

The young woman giggled a little at his reaction. “Suit yourself. It’s your loss,” she pulled the last of Ennis’s clothes off him, leaving the boy in just his underwear. Gently, she gave her brother a gentle push. “Go on then. Don’t wander off too far into the water, understand?”

“Mmkay,” Ennis blinked and turned owlishly to Everett. “Be nice to my sister, okay?” he stated before turning around and running into the water, splashing away in the shallows.

“Kids,” Roslyn shook her head as she folded up Ennis’s clothes, placing them down onto the sandy shore. “I should get changed now too,” she cleared her throat and gave the Jade a look.

The Jade’s cheeks reddened even further and he promptly turned away. “I-I, uh, I won’t look, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“As one would expect of a noble-born lord,” the young woman replied, beginning to pull her dress over her head. “Though you’re polite even for a lord. It’s because you’re a Jade, I assume?”

“I suppose so? House Jade is known for its elegance and class,” Everett confirmed, still looking firmly in the other direction. “And my father taught me that being polite is important in making a good impression.”

“Oh, did he?” Roslyn giggled. “My dad never taught me such things. He’s a bit too...well...he never cares about making a good impression, it just happens- Ennis, don’t go too far in!” she shouted suddenly. After a few moments, when she was sure that the boy was behaving, the young woman continued. “Still, that’s good of your father to do. I’m sure it’s a useful talent for an heir.”

“What’s useful for an heir?” Emil’s voice rang through the air as the young redheaded teen approached him. Upon seeing Everett, he strolled over to him with a wide, crafty grin. “I hope for your sake that you didn’t peek on my sister, Lord Jade.”

“Of course I didn’t,” Everett insisted, his face still holding its red shade.

“You sure?” Emil’s grin grew even wider and with his red hair, he resembled a fox in a chicken coop. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“Emil...young man behind the stables, remember?” Roslyn purred. “If you’re going to imply such things, how about you oversee Ennis as he splashes around?”

“...you drive a hard bargain, Ros,” her brother shook his head.

“I do,” she stepped out from behind Everett, her arms on her hips. All things considered, what she wore was fairly modest: a grey sleeveless undershirt over a pair of short bloomers. “Now go get changed before I push you into the water with your clothes on.”

Emil laughed and gave her a salute before stepping away behind the rocks. Roslyn watched him go with a smile before folding over her dress and Ennis’s shirt, holding them in front of her torso. “Emil says the stupidest things. He takes after our dad in that respect.”

“It’s, uh… it’s fine,” Everett mumbled, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Good,” Roslyn glanced away briefly, placing the folded clothes down on a clean patch of the shore. “I just keep worrying, with you being a Jade...they’re rumoured to emphasise tradition and manners a lot. I don’t want to be seen as a savage-” she looked up suddenly towards the lake. “Ennis, I told you, don’t go too far, and put that rock down!”

There was a loud splash as the little boy did as he was told. He pouted and sprayed some water towards his sister which fell short of its target. She gave Everett an awkward smile. “Though my brothers are keen to prove otherwise.”

Everett raised an eyebrow. “Regardless, I certainly wouldn’t call you a savage, miss Roslyn.” Quirking a small smile, he added, “Even if I thought that of you, that would be showing some very poor manners.”

“That is a very good point,” the young woman smiled and leaned a little closer to him. “But nevertheless, Lord Everett, wouldn’t you say it is better to be honest than to lie, even if the truth is a harsh one?”

“Perhaps so,” Everett agreed, “but I still don’t think of you as a savage. I just think we have been raised in different circumstances, and it would be rude of me to compare.”

Roslyn laughed suddenly, covering her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she bit her lip. “You’re right, we have been raised in different circumstances, but it’s nice to know that anyway. I’m happy I made a good impression.”

There was suddenly a loud whoop from the rocks, followed a substantial splash. Roslyn’s head shot towards the source of the noise: Emil had dived into the lake and was now waving to her.

“Come on, Ros, the water is great,” he yelled before diving down and grabbing Ennis by the feet, tugging the younger boy towards him.

She gave off a soft sigh. “I better go,” the young woman smiled at Everett. “Are you sure you don’t want to join? This is your last chance.”

“I’m alright, thank you,” Everett told her. “I hope you have fun, though.”

“I’m sure I will,” she replied cheerily and looked around. “Why don’t you sit on the rocks though? They look more comfortable than the shore, and you’re less likely to get your clothes soiled.”

“The rocks?” Everett blinked, glancing in the direction she was looking. “Er, well, I’m comfortable enough here, but…”

“Ah, well, up to you, I suppose,” Roslyn shrugged before a thought occurred to her. “But if you don’t swim, you could at least dip your feet in the lake if you take your shoes off. It will be nice,” she smiled sweetly. “Sometimes if you do that, little fish come up to you and nibble your toes.”

“Oh, um… I don’t know. Maybe later,” was Everett’s response.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, it was just a suggestion,” the young woman seemed a bit dismayed but soon regained her cheer. “I’ll see you when I’ve had a swim. We can have fun later!”

Before he even knew what she was doing, she took his hands, causing him to make a noise of surprise as she briefly spun him around before letting go. After a small wave and a friendly smile, she ran to join her brothers in the lake, diving into the water. When she came back out, her blonde hair was soaked, clinging to her face and back in long, ropy locks.

Everett found himself frozen to the spot, his face regaining its earlier redness as he tried to process what just happened. What was that for? Was that supposed to be a friendly gesture? It was bold of her to do something like that to a noble, let alone one she had just met… but after a moment, he shook his head, attempting to regain his composure. It had happened and it was over, no use in throwing a fit about it.

He watched the siblings playing together for a moment, seeing how they were laughing and having fun. After some consideration, he decided to take Roslyn’s advice and moved to take a seat on the rocks by the lake. He didn’t dip his feet in or even take off his shoes, but at least he could get a nice view of the lake, he figured.

Upon noticing Everett had climbed up onto the rocks, Roslyn took a break from splashing around in the water and swam over to Emil, tapping him on the shoulder. The two siblings whispered amongst themselves, sly grins overcoming their faces for a brief moment before Emil disappeared under the water, out of sight. Still grinning, Roslyn glanced over in Ennis’s direction, and once she was content that the boy was harmlessly playing in the shallows, she swam over to where Everett was. Treading water in a deep part by the rocks, she lifted up her head towards him, looking for all the world like a blonde, freckled mermaid.

“Glad you took my advice. It really is nice, isn’t it?” she called up to him.

“It’s a nice view,” Everett agreed. “You can see almost the whole lake from here.”

Roslyn grinned. “I bet you can,” she swam aside a little. “But I’m sure you can see it better-”

With an enormous spray of water, Emil burst out of the lake and grabbed Everett by the ankles. He shot him a grin just before gravity sent them both tumbling back into the water.

“-from here.” the young woman finished, biting her tongue to suppress a laugh before swimming over to where her brother and the Jade had landed. “Are you two alright?”

Everett emerged from the water coughing and sputtering, his hair and clothes now completely soaked. He tried to wipe some water from his eyes before grumbling, “Woo, these clothes will take ages to dry…!”

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” Emil surfaced beside him and floated leisurely on the water. “It’s a sunny day, you can leave them on the shore to dry.”

“Yes...you’ll be alright,” Roslyn smiled sweetly at Everett, trying to defuse some of his irritation. “And I suppose...if you’re already soaked, you could swim for a bit while your clothes dry? If you want to, of course.”

By the time she asked the question, Everett had already swum back to shore, where he crossly peeled off his cape and started wringing water out of it. “I told you that I don’t want to swim.”

“Oh,” the young woman’s expression visibly fell. “I’m really sorry, Lord Everett. I just thought...that it would be fun, that’s all, to get you into the lake with us,” She sighed, sinking deeper into the water, her blonde hair swirling around her while her blue eyes went wide, fixing on Everett. “Since I kind of...like you, and want to spend time with you.”

Everett paused what he was doing, looking up at her in surprise. She did that because she… liked him? It shouldn’t have surprised him that much, given their interactions thus far, but to hear her say it like that… after a moment, his expression softened, looking just a bit guilty.

“I, uh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,” he told her. “I just don’t like being dragged into things, especially after I already said no.”

“It’s alright. It was probably stupid of us to get you into the water with your clothes on,” Roslyn swam closer, stepping out onto the lake shore. “It’s just...forgive me for saying this, but you seem very closed off and serious, Lord Everett. I thought maybe it would be nice if you tried something new.”

Everett wanted to protest, but before he could, she held out her hand to him. “Since you’re all soaked anyway, why not just try a swim and see if you like it? If you don’t, you can go relax and I promise I’ll get Emil and Ennis to leave you alone.”

“Look, it’s— it’s not that I don’t swim,” Everett insisted. “It’s just that, I’d rather not, er…” His face turned red again as he tried to decide how to voice his thoughts. “…Well…”

“What?” Roslyn tilted her head before glancing down. “Are you embarrassed?” she giggled. “Because of me or for yourself?”

His face turned an even deeper shade of red at the question. “I-I’d just really rather not.”

“If it helps, nobody will see you in the water,” the young woman shrugged and spun on her heel. “And I won’t look, so there is no need to be shy,” she smiled back at him. “It is your choice, I won’t force you this time. But with all due respect, Lord Jade, if you don’t try to push yourself, your life will be very dull indeed, and you’re too sweet for that to happen to you.”

With that, Roslyn ran back into the water, diving under and resurfacing before stopping to tread water. Though her head was turned away from Everett, she was still watching him out of the corner of her eye, waiting to see if he was coming too.

Again, Everett wanted to protest. What did she mean, “if he didn’t push himself”? This wasn’t about pushing himself, it was about propriety. It was one thing for the lower class, but a proper nobleman out in public in only his undergarments was unthinkable. Not even his father would approve of such a thing!

…But then again, this was a unique circumstance. He did come out here to relax, and going for a swim would certainly be more relaxing than sitting and shivering in his wet clothes…

…Woo, I’m going to regret to this, he thought to himself, pulling off his boots just before disappearing behind the rocks.

Seeing this, Roslyn smiled and dived down into the water, swimming over to her brothers.

“He’s coming in,” she shot a glare around to both boys. “Be nice.”

“Will be! ‘Rhett is nice to us so we’ll be nice back,” Ennis exclaimed, splashing down into the water.

Emil grinned, grabbing his younger brother by the shoulders so that he did not go too far. “Don’t worry, Ros, we won’t scare your sweet Jade away,” he winked at his sister.

Roslyn rolled her eyes. “Good,” she shot him a stern glance. “And not a word of this gets back to mum.”

There was a splashing sound behind them, like someone getting in the water—apparently Everett had waited until they weren’t looking. Sure enough, when they turned to look, there was Everett in the water, face still red, but smiling sheepishly back at them.

Emil smiled back and shoved his sister towards the Jade. “He’s all yours.”

The young woman sighed before diving into the water again, swimming over to Everett. Rising up beside him, she met his shy smile with a bright, confident one. “See, it’s nice, isn’t it?” the young woman put her hands into the water. “It will be nicer if you go all in though!”

Without warning, she threw up her arms, splashing the Jade with water.

“Hey!” Everett yelped, wincing against the water. But this time, he gave a mischievous smirk and returned the favor, splashing Roslyn back.

She squealed with surprise, bringing her hands up to shield herself from the water, even if it was a futile gesture. When she looked back at Everett, however, there was an enormous smile on her face. “So you do know this game,” she exclaimed and dipped her arm in the lake again, throwing it on Everett.

“I wanna join!” came a cry from behind her and suddenly, Ennis leapt into the fray, diving in between them both and kicking water over the Jade.

Everett laughed, shielding himself from the water. “Hey, get back here!”

They continued laughing and playing together in the lake for a while, just having a good time together—and in Everett’s case, forgetting his troubles for the moment. Maybe the swim wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

An Unlikely Pair - Part 2

SPOILER: Click to show

By the time they finally got out of the water, Everett’s clothes were thankfully dry, which he wasted no time to put back on. The trio of siblings also climbed out of the lake, dripping water on the shore. While Roslyn and Ennis stood vigilant over their clothes, Emil ran into the woods, returning shortly with the basket of food and the satchel. From the latter he produced pairs of dry underwear, some of which he chucked at his sister

“I’ll deal with Ennis,” he gestured at the younger boy and shot Roslyn a grin. “You best go, otherwise poor Lord Jade will die of embarrassment.”

His sister rolled her eyes but gave him a nod, followed by a smile at Everett. “See you later,” she plucked her clothes up off the ground and retreated behind the rocks.

Emil gave her a wave and proceeded to tear off Ennis’s wet clothes. As he did, he smiled to himself. “So, Lord Jade,” he asked Everett. “What do you think of my sister? Sweet, isn’t she?”

“Your sister is very nice,” Everett replied, raising an eyebrow. “What of it?”

“Just ‘nice’?” Emil grinned. “Don’t let her hear you say that. She’ll be crushed.”

“I, uh…” Everett’s face again turned red at the insinuation. “I mean, I don’t want to give the insinuation that— we just met, and—”

“And first impressions are important. Also, if I recall correctly, lying is a sin in front of the Lord Woo you care so deeply for,” the ginger boy winked. “Roslyn clearly likes you. So be honest, Lord Jade, do you like Roslyn too?”

“I-I mean, she’s very nice,” Everett admitted, “but I’m the heir to House Jade, I can’t just, er… I mean, my father will probably arrange my marriage to a proper noblewoman.” Though he knew full well that his father would be delighted if he brought home a love match for himself. That was beside the point, he decided. “I really can’t commit to anything.”

“Aww!” Ennis suddenly exclaimed. “So you won’t marry Ros and have lots of babies?” Before Emil could stop him, he dashed out of his older brother’s grip, his shirt half-hanging off him, and grabbed Everett by the sleeve. “But...but...Ros is the best sister! She’s nice and pretty and she gives me sweets when mummy says no!”

If Everett was red before, he was now a deep shade of crimson. “Er, I-I mean, I’d need time to think on it either way.”

Emil guffawed and patted the Jade on the back. “Don’t pay him any attention; Ennis is a kid, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“Do not,” the younger boy huffed, sticking his lower lip out, not quite aware that he had just agreed with Emil’s point.

“Of course you do,” his older brother patted his head, ruffling his ginger hair before turning back to Everett. “Whether you like her or not, Lord Jade, be nice to Ros. She’s obviously pretty fond of you so at least, while we’re here, let her enjoy your company,” he shot the nobleman a fiendish look. “And enjoy hers if that’s your thing. You wouldn’t be the first boy to fawn over my sister.”

“Of course I’ll be nice to her. I intend to be nothing less than a perfect gentleman to your sister,” Everett insisted, before clearing his throat. “I had hoped that I never implied otherwise.”

“Of course not. But you know, Lord Jade,” Emil grinned. “There’s a fine balance between gentlemanly and frustrating.”

“What are you two talking about?” Roslyn’s voice called out as she approached them. She was back in her regular clothes, through her hair was still wet and dripping, creating damp patches around her shoulders.

“Nothing, sis,” Emil shrugged and continued to change, all while giving Everett a wink.

The young woman rolled her eyes and sighed before she strolled over to the Jade. Her blue eyes ran over him, taking in the faint hints of crimson in his cheeks. “What was he saying? I would be glad to tell him off for you if he’s been embarrassing you.”

The flush returned to his face as Everett replied, “Er, i-it was nothing important. Don’t worry about it.”

Roslyn raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“It really was nothing, Ros!” Emil shouted back. “Could you get the food out? We’re all starving.”

“Food!” Ennis leapt up and down.” Ros, can I get some bread? With butter? And jam? Please?”

“Alright, alright,” the young woman laughed and shot Everett a smile. “Do you want to join us? We brought plenty of food to share, and you must be hungry after the swim.”

“Don’t forget the wine,” Emil chuckled, folding his arms. “I was worried it might be too much for me and Ros but if we split it between us three, it would be perfect.”

“Alright. That sounds nice, thank you,” Everett said.

“You’re welcome,” Roslyn chirruped in reply.

It did not take long for the trio of siblings to disassemble the picnic they had brought. Ennis was distracted with a jam pastry, which he bit into with great gusto. Roslyn meanwhile, produced a sandwich with cheese and cold meats which she handed to Everett while Emil picked the wax seal off the wine bottle. He produced two mugs from the basket and set them in front of Everett and Roslyn, pouring out a third of the wine into each of them before pulling the bottle back to himself. He lifted it up into the air, smiling at the two.

“Here’s to new meetings,” he exclaimed.

“And new friends,” Roslyn glanced at Everett as she brought her mug against the wine bottle with a soft clink.

“Agreed,” Everett agreed, raising his glass as well.

After the trio had toasted each other, they took their first sips of the wine. Emil took a large swig from the bottle, in contrast to Roslyn who drank hers with a delicate, ladylike sip.

“Can I have some?” Ennis exclaimed, looking up from where he was gnawing the last of the meat off his chicken.

“You wouldn’t like it,” his older brother said, shooting the boy a smile.

“Now now, Emil, you assume too much,” with a sly grin, Roslyn held her cup out to Ennis. “A tiny sip, nothing more.”

Ennis squealed a little and grabbed the wine cup, trying to wrench it out of his sister’s hands but she was stronger and did not let go. Tilting it just slightly, she allowed a drop to spill into her younger brother’s mouth. Immediately, his nose wrinkled and he spat in disgust.

“Ew, ew!” He stuck his tongue out. “Why drink that? It’s gross!”

Emil snorted. “You’ll understand when you’re older,” he patted the younger boy’s hair. “I’m sure Lord Everett has plenty to say about fine wines,” he grinned at the Jade. “What do you say? Having been raised on the best of Raylish wine, is this to your taste, your lordship?”

Everett chuckled. “This is actually pretty good. Where did you get it?”

“Well,” the ginger boy leaned closer, grinning. “Ennis’s grandpa-”

“-has a fairly well-paid job in Medieville and can afford things like this,” Roslyn interrupted suddenly, turning to look directly at Emil. Her smile was sweet as honey but there was a distinct look of menace in her eyes. “And it was this rogue’s idea to take some from his collection to try.”

“Grandpa?” Ennis looked up, blinking. “You talking about grandpa?”

“We are, Ennis, sweetie,” Roslyn patted his head and reached into the basket, producing a wrapped piece of cloth. From it, she pulled out several pieces of shortbread and handed it to the boy, who proceeded to gnaw on them eagerly. Satisfied the boy was occupied, she leaned back, taking another sip of her wine. “Don’t worry, Lord Jade; Ennis’s grandpa doesn’t drink so he won’t miss this.”

“I… see.” Everett raised an eyebrow at the story. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something they weren’t telling him here, but for the moment, his only question was, “If it’s not rude of me to ask, what do you mean when you say ‘Ennis’s grandpa’? Aren’t you all siblings?”

“Oh yes, we are,” Roslyn nodded. “But our grandad died before Ennis was born so he doesn’t remember him. His Woofather is his grandpa,” she smiled, “And nobody dares tell him otherwise.”

“Ah, I see. That makes sense,” Everett said with a nod.

“Good,” the young woman took another sip of her wine and folded her hands over her cup, leaning closer to Everett. “So, Lord Jade, is this your last day in Medieville? Or do you have other business to attend to before you leave for Solis?”

Everett sipped his wine before letting out a sigh. “I still have more work to do here, unfortunately. So I’ll probably be here for another few days.”

“Ah. So we might see each other, “Roslyn bit her lip, looking nervous suddenly before drowning a gulp of wine, washing the expression off her face.

“I suppose so, yes,” Everett agreed, not noticing the momentary shift in expression.
“Still, it will just mean it’s nicer to go back home, right?” She tilted her head. “What’s Solis like? I’ve always wondered.”

Everett had to ponder for a moment how best to answer. “Well, it’s warmer than Medieville, though you can’t really tell at this time of year. It’s a beautiful city, as well—a lot of work is put into making it look nice.”

“Really?” The young woman laughed suddenly and leaned closer to Everett. “You can’t just tell me so little and expect me to be satisfied. How is it beautiful? What do people do?” She smiled. “And I assume House Jade contributes plenty to its capital’s glory?”

“Uh, well, there’s the architecture, for one,” Everett told her, The buildings are designed artistically, and there are a lot of mosaics and murals. There are also many beautiful gardens, and things like that. And we do a lot to maintain it, as I said earlier.” He paused for a moment, pondering what else to add. “We, um, we have a restoration festival to make sure everything stays nice.”

Roslyn nodded as she listened to him. “A city of art then? That really does sound pleasant,” she sighed. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it one day. Though I doubt that will happen,” she tilted her head. “Still, you must be proud of it, living in such a city and one day being its lord?”

“Well, you’re welcome to come if you ever get the chance to visit,” Everett said. “And yes, I’m very proud. Solis is a beautiful city with a rich and fascinating history.”

Emil snorted behind them. “Oh, yes, we know,” he grabbed a sandwich and split it in two, giving one half to Ennis and taking a bite out of it. “But I don’t think Ros will get the chance to visit Solis. Sorry, Ros.”

“Hence why I’m asking,” the young woman shrugged. “I want to hear about something different, and who better to ask than the man who will one day own it?”

“The architects?” Emil chuckled. “The masons? All the craftspeople who work on it?”

Roslyn shrugged. “We only have the Lord of Jade at our disposal so he will have to do.”

Everett raised an eyebrow at the exchange, but said nothing. “At any rate, it’s a nice city, and I can only hope to be a worthy ruler of it one day.”

“I’m sure you will be,” the young woman smiled sweetly at him. “You seem like a very intelligent, responsible person, Lord Everett.” she giggled. “Though you don’t seem to talk much. Are the Lords of your House usually so stoic?”

“I don’t know that ‘stoic’ is the word I’d use, but no, not… not always.” Everett cleared his throat awkwardly. “But uh, thank you. I appreciate your confidence.”

“You’re welcome,” Roslyn said before giggling. “I thought the Lords of House Jade were all about piety and restraint. So now you’re saying you’re nothing like that?” She leaned closer to him, practically resting on his shoulder, batting her eyelashes. “What does it take to get you to slip up?”

In front of them, Emil casually slipped his hands over Ennis’ eyes, much to the boy’s dismay.

For the umpteenth time that day, Everett turned a shade of red at the question. “Th-that’s, uh, that’s not what I meant.”

“Really? What did you mean then?” The young woman purred before smirking. “Though you’re not always so stoic around me, it seems. Unless it’s the heat...but I imagine a Jade would be used to it.”

“House Jade does emphasize piety and restraint,” Everett replied, again, seemingly doing his best to dodge the question. “But uh, not everyone in the House is like that. It depends on the person.”

“I suppose it always does. You did tell me about your brothers,” Roslyn said, though she did not move herself out of the Jade’s personal space. “Is there somebody else? Or are they the exception?”

“I… would really rather not talk about that right now,” Everett told her.

Roslyn grinned. “Well that just makes me more curious,” she touched his shoulder. “Come on, tell me. I can keep a secret,” she cast a glare at Emil and Ennis. “And I’ll make sure they do too.”

Everett hesitated for a while, before finally letting out a sigh. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t know already, given how much you seem to know about House Jade,” he said carefully, “about, uh… about my father.”

“Your father? Is that really what you were so embarrassed about?” Roslyn threw her mouth up to her hand and burst out laughing. Everett shot her a look, but she continued laughing for several moments, finally stopping to wipe away a tear, and grinned widely at Everett. “There’s no need to be so shy about it; my dad is embarrassing too.”

“Oh really? Does yours sing at the slightest provocation?” Everett asked wryly.

“Well, no, but-” Roslyn raised an eyebrow. “Does yours? I mean, I’ve heard things but...is it that bad?”

“Believe me, if you’ve heard stories, they’re probably true,” Everett grumbled, pinching his brow as the memories entered his mind.

“Oh...oh wow,” her eyes widened before she smiled and shook her head. “I think that’s sweet though. Most nobles are so serious. It’s nice to have one who is relaxed and maybe even a little silly.”

“I suppose so. He is a nice father,” Everett admitted. “But it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable when he decides to serenade visiting dignitaries.”

Emil snorted. “Oh yes, and I’m sure the dignitaries are just as confused as you are, Lord Jade...or so I’ve heard.”

Roslyn shot him a glare, to which her brother responded with a smile before digging through the basket for an apple, which he gleefully bit into. She sighed. “At least he’s still a nice dad. Mine is like that too; he loves telling embarrassing stories and being all affectionate with us but it all comes from a place of love.”

Reaching into the basket, she took out two apples, offering one to the Jade. “As long as something is honest and genuine, surely you can learn to look past the flaws and accept the bad along with the good?”

“Well… yes, I suppose so,” Everett replied, accepting the apple. “And it’s not like I don’t care about my father. I just think he sings far too much for a man who’s supposed to be the Lord of House Jade.”

“Have you told him that?” Roslyn asked and took a bite of the fruit she was holding. “Or does he keep doing it anyway? My dad is like that; no matter how much we tell him to stop telling all those stories or giving us cuddles in public, he can’t help it.”

“Oh, everyone tells him that, but it doesn’t stop him,” Everett told her, rolling his eyes. “He always says, as you put it, that he can’t help it.” With an exaggeratedly cheerful expression, he added, “That when there’s a song in his heart, he has to set it free!”

The young woman giggled. “He sounds like fun. I feel like him and my dad would get along,” she smiled at Everett, tilting her head. “But it’s okay right, as long as you love him anyway?” she weaseled a little closer. “Even if you’d never admit it to his face, I’m sure.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Everett agreed, returning to his normal demeanor. “I mean, as far as noble families go, it could be a lot worse. I guess I’m lucky that way.”

“I think you are. Your dad, despite the singing, sounds like a good person, and I bet he loves you as much as you love him,” Roslyn tilted her head slightly. “Didn’t he meet your mum in Medieville too? She’s Princess Hope, isn’t she? King Galateo’s niece?”

Everett nodded. “That’s right. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just curious. You hear things which you don’t always know are true,” the young woman shrugged. “So, you’re staying at the Keep? Since you-”

“The Keep?” Ennis piped up suddenly. “The Keep is so pretty. It’s the place where-”

Emil quickly grabbed a roll from the basket, stuffing it into Ennis’s mouth. “That’s right, it’s where the king lives, so it has to be pretty,” he laughed and gave Roslyn a grin, to which she responded with a nod. Picking up the bottle from Emil’s side, she held it out to Everett.

“More wine?” she asked, smiling sweetly at the Jade.

“Sure,” Everett agreed, again not quite sure what to make of the exchange. As Roslyn refilled his glass, he continued, “But yes, I’m staying at the Keep. It’s a very lovely building, indeed—only the best for the royal family.”

“As one would expect. Their Majesties would not settle for anything less,” Roslyn rested her elbows on her knees and folded her hands, leaning her chin on them. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it. We don’t have anything so splendid back home.”

Emil, who had taken a bite out of a piece of fruit, coughed suddenly, choking on it. His sister reached over to smack him on the back. Once the ginger boy had recovered, he shook his head, grinning at his sister and mouthing something to her.

“Are you alright?” Everett asked Emil, raising an eyebrow.

“Perfectly fine. Ros just surprised me, that’s all,” the young man said with a shrug and a smile at his sister.

Roslyn rolled her eyes. “All I said is that I wouldn’t mind seeing the Raven’s Keep,” she fluttered her eyes at Everett. “Nothing strange about that, wouldn’t you agree? It’s only natural to be curious about the seat of their royal Majesties.”

Everett was silent for a moment, as if trying to discern what exactly he was missing here, before shaking his head. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, no. But if you actually wanted to go inside, I think you’d need permission from someone who actually lives there.”

“Oh, well, you’re living there, at least temporarily, and you’re related to the king…” Roslyn purred, leaning closer to him. “If you’re worried about getting in trouble, I don’t even have to go inside...just have a brief look around the courtyard?”

Emil shook his head. “Sister, I had no idea you could be so brazen,” he murmured.

“Uh…” Everett found himself turning red again. “I really shouldn’t, not without permission.”

“Why not ask grandpa?” Ennis chirruped. “He works at the Keep. He’s told me about it.”

Roslyn smiled sweetly at Ennis, though the smile betrayed a hint of malice. “Ennis, sweetie, it isn’t just about seeing the Keep.”

Everett frowned. “Then what is it about?”

Emil suddenly burst out laughing. “Lord Jade, with all due respect, you’re a blind idiot.”

“Emil!” Roslyn cried before looking over at Everett sheepishly, her cheeks going slightly pink. “I just...well...had a nice time with you and wanted to see you again, before you went away and we went home.”

“Oh, uh…” Everett silently cursed the fact that he was spending so much of the afternoon blushing so hard. “I-I mean, you don’t have to come to the Keep to do that.”

“You...you wouldn’t mind?” Roslyn dared to sneak a note of hope into her voice. “I mean, I’d be happy to go anywhere. The Keep, the market...places like that.”

“Or Lord Jade can come to our house,” Emil smirked. “I’m sure he’d love it.”

His sister swatted at his arm. “That’s not a good idea and you know it,” she paused. “I mean, with Ennis’s grandpa being sick and all.”

“I mean, I’d be happy to meet wherever you want to meet,” Everett told her. “I have business to take care of still, of course, but maybe afterward we could go to the market or something. If you like.”

Roslyn’s smile lit up her face. “I would love to. Tomorrow afternoon, at the market?”

“Alright. Hopefully I won’t be too caught up in meetings,” Everett remarked wryly, taking a bite of his apple. “But I’ll try not to keep you waiting.”

“Have fun explaining that meeting to Ennis’s grandpa,” Emil remarked.

“I’ll find a way,” the young woman said before beaming at Everett. “Thank you!”

Without warning, Roslyn leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck and wrapping him in a hug. Soon, however, she realised what she had done and pulled herself away, coughing politely and smoothing out her skirt.

Everett coughed, trying not to choke on his apple from the surprise hug. “You’re welcome. So, ah, see you then?”

“Yes,” Roslyn nodded enthusiastically, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m looking forward to it.”

An Unlikely Pair - Part 3

SPOILER: Click to show

The next day dawned bright over Medieville with a few scattered clouds to lessen the heat in comparison to yesterday. This good weather brought out merchants from both within the city and the various settlements outside it. By lunchtime, the marketplace was buzzing with activity, activity which had hardly died down by the time afternoon came about. Traders shouted over each other to draw attention to a rainbow of goods, hawkers weaved between the crowds selling snacks or knick-knacks and customers milled about, examining wares or looking for something specific. The noise of this mass of people was almost overwhelming.

And in the middle of this din, there was no sign of Roslyn anywhere. Everett was confused. She said she would be here, didn’t she? Had she forgotten?

After a while of fruitless searching, he decided to flag down a nearby merchant for help. “Excuse me, I’m trying to find someone,” he said. “Her name is Roslyn, she has blonde hair and freckles… you haven’t seen her, perchance?”

The merchant leaned over her counter, rapping her fingernails against it. “Can’t say I have, my lord, why? Looking for your sweetheart? She’ll turn up, don’t worry,” the woman gestured to the wares in front of her: a selection of sweet-smelling pastries, sweetbreads and cakes. “Why not buy her a little something for when you find her, your lordship? Or get her to buy you something for making you wait.”

Everett turned red at the sweetheart comment, but decided that it wasn’t worth it to argue about it. “Er, maybe,” he said instead, perusing the merchant’s baked goods. After a moment, he gestured to a strawberry pastry and asked, “How much for this one?”

“Two minors, of any currency. I accept runestones, my lord,” the woman said, the hint in her voice obvious. “Best thing you’ll find in the market today. You or the young lady you’re meeting will love it.”

“Alright. I’ll take it, then.” Everett pulled out a money pouch, retrieving two runestones from it and placing them on the counter.

The merchant woman swept the runestones into her purse before selecting one of the strawberry pasties and wrapping it up for him. “Enjoy,” she said with a smile and waved to Everett.

Before he could walk away, however, he heard the sound of his name being called out and a few moments later, Roslyn burst out of the crowd and rushed up to him. She stopped, red-faced and panting in front of him before looking up, giving him an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” the girl said in between gasps. “I had...some trouble leaving home. Emil helped me though, so now we can have fun,” she straightened up, brushing her hair behind her ears and glancing down at the pastry. “That looks good.”

“Roslyn! I was worried you’d forgotten.” Everett smiled, holding out the pastry for her to see. “I thought you might like it.”

“Oh, thank you,” Roslyn took the treat in her hands, clutching it. “I did not forget, I promise. As I said, leaving home was troublesome. I did not know how Ennis’ grandpa would feel about me going to meet a boy, especially-” she broke off and held the pastry out. “You want to share this? I feel bad making you wait and not even letting you try it.”

Everett frowned. Especially what? What was she about to say? But perhaps this wasn’t the best time to question it. “Oh, sure. We can break it in half if you’d like.”

“Alright,” Roslyn carefully tore the pastry apart, making sure to not let any of the filling drip onto her dress. Once she had handed Everett his half, she took a dainty bite of her piece. “Oh, it is good! Good guess too: I really like strawberries.”

“Oh, really? I’m glad I picked it, then,” Everett replied, before taking a bite of his own piece. He paused to chew and swallow before adding, “This is quite good.”

“Yes,” the girl bit some more off the pastry before smiling at Everett. “So, what do you want to do? I want to try and find presents for my sisters and brother back home. Maybe you could get something for your siblings? Or for your parents?”

“That’s a good idea, actually. They’d probably like that,” Everett admitted. Glancing around at the marketplace, he added, “Anywhere in particular you’d like to start?”

Roslyn rubbed her chin, thinking about it. “I owe Emil a favour and he likes spiced or sugared almonds, so if we find a stall selling something like that, I’ll get some for him. My sisters are harder because they’ll complain if I get them the same things but be jealous if I get one of them something “better” than what the other one got. I’ll probably just wing it there,” she tilted her head at Everett. “What about your siblings, or your father for that matter?” the girl grinned. “Could get him a musical instrument?”

“Oh Woo. I’d never hear the end of it if I did,” Everett replied, wincing at the thought of his father trying to play an instrument. He shook his head. “I’m not sure what my siblings would want… I suppose I’ll have to look around and see what there is.”

“Always a good idea,” Roslyn put her hands behind her back and turned, her long blonde hair whirling out behind her as she began to trot down the market. “Maybe if we have a little bit left over, we can get something for ourselves,” she winked.

Everett gave an amused smile, following after her. “You mean besides the pastry?”

The girl put the rest of the pastry in her mouth and swallowed it before hiding her hands behind her back, fluttering her eyelashes. “What pastry?”

“That’s strange. I thought for sure that we split a pastry earlier,” Everett responded, before taking another bite of his own piece.

“Must have been your imagination, my lord,” Roslyn grinned and stepped out in front of him, spinning on her heels. “So we can get another treat. That is, unless the great House Jade doesn’t have money for some candy or spiced nuts.”

Everett raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to make me spend all of my money on treats, are you?”

“You could also buy me a nice ribbon, if you insist,” she fluttered her eyelashes. “Isn’t that how a nobleman treats a lady?”

“You are going to make me spend all my money, aren’t you?”

The girl grinned. “I can buy you something too, to make it fair. What do you like, Evere- Lord Jade?”

“What? No, I couldn’t ask that of you,” Everett told her.

“Oh, what a gentleman. A true nobleman, through and through,” Roslyn stopped, giving him an exaggerated bow before taking his arm. “Come on then. We can see what we can buy our families, and each other. Or even just browse,” she smiled, brushing a lock of hair out of her face. “As long as we’re together, right?”

“I suppose so,” Everett replied, blushing a little. “That is what we came here for, after all.”

“That’s true,” the girl shot him a sideways glance. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re cute when you blush?”

The comment only made him blush more. “Er, I don’t believe so, no.”

Roslyn giggled, leaning closer to his face to get a better look. “No, I suppose not. The heir of House Jade wouldn’t spend time chasing girls,” she rolled her eyes. “Not unlike Emil, who goes after every pretty person he sees.”

“Some might…” Everett mumbled, shaking his head. “I’m sorry to hear about your brother. …Or should I be sorry for that?”

“Nah. Emil’s harmless, and he’s cute when he’s lovestruck. Plus it means I have something to hold over his head if I need to,” the girl smirked, looking slightly ominous for a moment before returning to her usual, cheery expression. “But you’ve probably got much better things to do, Lord Jade.”

Everett raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment. “Well, as heir to House Jade, I have to think carefully about who I court. It’s an important decision that could affect the future of Corvus.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess. Part of the parcel of being nobility,” Roslyn’s face fell and for a moment, she fell silent before immediately perking up again. “Hey, look over here!”

She let go of Everett’s arm and ran up to a stall selling various painted clay items, from practical things like plates and pottery to a few figurines depicting both humans and animals. “They’re so pretty!”

Everett hurried after her, stopping beside her to get a better look. “They do look really nice.”

The shopkeeper smiled as the two approached his stall. “I’m glad you like them, m’lord, miss.” He gave a respectful nod. “Please, let me know if anything strikes your fancy. I’d be happy to sell it to you for a fair price.”

“Of course.” Everett nodded at the shopkeeper, before returning his attention to Roslyn. “Do you see anything you like?”

“Hmm…” the girl inspected the clay creations with a critical eye. “The frog is cute. The owl is nice, and that pegasus is really pretty,” she tilted her head back and forth several times, hawing and humming before sighing with exasperation. “I don’t know, they’re all really pretty! Which ones do you like?”

“Er… I don’t know,” was Everett’s response. “They all look nice.”

The shopkeeper gave an amused smile. “Take your time, m’lord.”

“We can’t buy them all, can we?” Roslyn asked, her tone light and joking.

“You do want me to spend all my money,” Everett teased back. He glanced back at the figurines, pondering. “I mean… if I had to pick one, I’d probably pick the owl, but… hm.”

“Alright! That settles that!” Roslyn exclaimed, reaching for a hidden pocket in her dress and taking out her purse. “How much for that owl?”

“Four minor items, please,” the shopkeeper replied.

“Alright,” the girl took out four precious jewels and handed it over to the merchant before picking up the owl and placing it in Everett’s hand. “Now who says I’m going to spend all your money?” she asked, wearing a wry grin.

Everett blinked, clearly dumbfounded by what just happened. “I… don’t know why I assumed you didn’t have money.”

“Because I’m a girl? Or because I’m not dressed like a noble?” Roslyn tapped Everett gently on the nose. “One should not judge based on appearances, Lord Jade.”

“I suppose not. I’m sorry for assuming,” Everett replied, before turning to the shopkeeper. “A pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

The shopkeeper bowed his head. “You as well, m’lord.”

“So what now?” Everett asked.

“Well, we were going to get things for our siblings, or at least I was,” Roslyn said before striding off towards the other stalls, beckoning Everett after her. “Come on, let’s go see if we can find a stall that sells candied nuts.”

The cries of merchants mingled together with the chatter of the crowd, resembling the chirruping of an enormous flock of birds. As the two walked on, however, one particular voice stood out over the rest. “Flowers! Flowers! Fresh flowers, dried flowers! Get your flowers!”

Soon, the offending merchant came into sight: a middle aged woman whose voice was deafening. “Flowers! Buy my flowers! Sir, why not buy some flowers for the lady?” she called to a man passing by, who sheepishly stopped and bought a few before hurrying off. The woman, however, wasted no time, calling to a couple of women holding hands, urging them to buy flowers.

Her eyes soon landed on Everett and as the two walked by her stall, she leaned forward with a wry grin. “And what about you, your Lordship? Why not buy some flowers for the pretty young girl you’re with?”

“Oh, er…” Everett turned red, glancing at Roslyn.

She had averted her eyes, studying the ground beneath her feet intensely. “If...if you like…” she muttered.

“Ah, go on,” the flower seller urged, her grin so wide it threatened to split her face in half. “Your pretty girlfriend is just being shy. She’ll love them!”

A hint of red crept into Roslyn’s cheeks. “I won’t mind if you don’t. It’s not like we’re...you know…what she’s saying.”

“We’re just, er… we’re not courting,” Everett insisted, despite the redness of his face. Nonetheless, he let out a sigh. “But if you want some, miss Roslyn… which ones do you like?”

“Oh, umm…” the girl looked up at the selection of flowers that the beaming woman had practically thrust into their face. “The...the roses are nice, and the lilies. But you don’t have to. I mean, like you said,” she swallowed. “We’re not really courting...are we?”

Everett hesitated. He knew the answer was no—he was the heir to House Jade, and who he married was of utmost importance. He couldn’t just go around courting some peasant woman, no matter how uniquely charming she was, nor how strangely comfortable he felt in her presence, or… oh Woo.

“…How much for the flowers?” he mumbled.

The flower seller smiled. “Oh, just a minor currency for one, or a major for twelve. I’ll even be nice, my lord, and let you pick the ones you like personally.”

Roslyn’s mouth flew open as she stared at Everett. “Really? For me? You’d...you’d…” she flushed a bright pink before throwing her arms around the Jade. “Oh, thank you!”

“Whoa–! Er, you’re welcome?” Everett replied, turning an even deeper shade of red. Woo, what was he doing? Regardless, he reached for his money pouch, pulling out a glittering diamond and handing it to the merchant. “Here. How about six of the roses, and six of the lilies?”

“Certainly, my lord,” the merchant woman turned around back to her stall, picking out six of each flower as requested before handing them to Everett, plucking the diamond out of his hand as she did so. “Here you are. I’ll let you present them to the young lady yourself. Enjoy!” she gave them a wink before turning to harass another couple passing by.

Roslyn moved away from him, putting her hands behind her back, her eyes flicking up and down as she tried to pretend she was not looking at Everett. Her cheeks dimpled as she bit down on their corners to stop herself smiling.

Everett let out a heavy sigh. What was it about this woman that made him so unusually impulsive? He pondered the best thing to say to her as he approached her with the flowers. (At least his father wasn’t here—he probably would have encouraged Everett to serenade her.)

“I don’t wish to give a false impression. What I said earlier still holds true,” he started carefully. “But… it’s been nice getting to know you. You seem to be a pleasant person. So…” He held out the bouquet for her, his face still tinged with red. “I hope you like them.”

Roslyn broke out into a wide smile as she delicately took the flowers. “T-thank you,” she stammered. “I do remember what you said, which is why I was so surprised. But I still really do appreciate this. It has been nice getting to know you too.”

The girl took one of the roses and carefully tucked it behind the clasp of Everett’s cloak. She then placed one of the flowers in her hair, plaiting its stem into her braid. “Even if this doesn’t last, I’m still glad I had this time with you. Even after you go back home to Solis...you’ll remember me, right?”

Everett stared as she tucked the rose in his clasp, thinking on her words. “Of course I will,” he told her. “You, uh…” He hesitated, running a finger along the rose’s soft petals. “…You’ve made this trip to the capital less stressful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for giving me some company besides my brothers and Ennis’s grandpa. I love them but I also like meeting new people,” Roslyn said and pointed to the flower. “When you get to Solis, you can dry that, you know, instead of throwing it away when it starts to rot. My grandma’s a herbalist; she taught me that.”

“Oh? I might have to try that,” Everett replied. There was an awkwardly long pause before he continued, “So, er, should we check out some other stalls, then?”

“Oh yes, let’s,” the girl said brightly and strode forward, looking over her shoulder at Everett. “Come on now; you snooze, you lose!”

They wandered around the marketplace some more, with Roslyn making good on her promise and buying some candied nuts for her brother as well as a comb for herself. Everett seemed less certain in his choices, but ultimately picked out some assorted trinkets for his siblings. In between, the two chatted freely together, with Roslyn often telling jokes or pointing out pretty things for sale. Despite her earlier threat, however, she did not make Everett spend all of his money. In fact, she hardly asked for anything.

It was getting closer to late afternoon and the activity of the market was just beginning to die down when Roslyn suddenly gasped and dove behind Everett’s back, peering over his shoulder into the distance in front of them.

“What?” Everett frowned, trying to follow her gaze to see what she was looking at. “What is it?”

“It’s them,” the girl pointed through the crowd to two men in maroon and silver livery, lightly covered in several pieces of steel armour. On each of their right gloves gleamed a red and silver badge, clearly visible upon which was a horse’s head. “I can’t let those knights see me.”

Everett’s brow furrowed. He could recognize those colors and that symbol any day. “The Stallion knights? Why not?”

“It’s...it’s hard to explain. Just trust me when I say it would ruin both our days,” Roslyn said, taking his hand and tugging Everett after her. “Come on, let’s go before they see us. You don’t want Stallion knights to see you either, do you Lord Jade?”

“I couldn’t care less if Stallion knights see me, actually. I’m hardly afraid of them.” Everett’s scowl deepened. “But what did you do, steal from them?”

“What? How dare you? I didn’t steal anything from them!” the girl’s eyes flashed angrily. “You won’t believe why I’m avoiding them even if I told you. Now come on, we have to go-”

“Lady Roslyn?” one of the knights called out.

Roslyn’s face paled. She slowly let go of Everett’s hand, her gaze falling down on to the ground. She did not attempt to flee or even make a single move as the two knights wound through the crowd, finally coming to a stop in front of her. Relief flooded over both of them.

“Thank Woo. Lord Ambrose sent us out to find you after he realised you were not in the Manor and Duke Emil refused to tell us where you had gone. You do not know this city well, you should not be going out without an escort,” one of the knights chided her before his companion tapped his shoulder, pointing at Everett. Immediately, the two knights blinked, registering his presence before giving a hasty bow of their heads.

“Hello, Lord Jade,” the first man spoke. “Is there a problem?”

Everett stood silent, mouth agape as he tried to process what had just happened. All at once, things started to click—those cryptic comments Roslyn and her brothers had been making, the Bernian money, that nagging feeling he kept getting that he was forgetting something… everything about her and her family lined up perfectly, in fact. How could he have possibly forgotten that the heir to House Stallion’s name was Emil? That he had a younger sister named Roslyn?

“You’re… a Stallion,” he breathed.

The young woman looked like she had just been slapped. She recoiled, not daring to look up at him. “Yes,” she murmured, her voice shaking. “I’m sorry I did not tell you. We were having fun and I thought, if you knew, you would...you would reject me.”

Everett’s mind was racing. All this time, he thought she was a commoner. She convinced him that she was, even tried to woo him without ever once telling him the truth. And why would she? Now that he thought about it, even the Duke of Bern himself tried to convince him to give her a chance, despite Everett’s insistence that he would have a proper noble marriage arranged for him. It was almost as if…

No, Everett, slow down, he scolded himself. House Stallion and House Jade had been at each other’s throats in the past, that was no secret, but it wasn’t like that anymore. They were even on fairly good terms now. The Stallions wouldn’t be so brazen as to try and worm their way into the ruling seat of House Jade by romancing the heir, not now.

…Or would they?

“I don’t…” Everett put a hand to his head, as if trying to fight off a growing headache. “I don’t know what to think. You lied to me.”

“Just so you know, I didn’t lie to you out of any kind of malice. I never planned to spy on you or trick you or anything like that,” Roslyn closed her eyes briefly, grinding her teeth together. Her hands scrunched the stems of the bouquet she was holding. “Even if you were a Jade, I wanted to spend some time getting to know you before we both went home. I never expected anything to come from it.”

“Lady Roslyn, is everything alright?” one of the knights reached out to her.

“Shut up!” she slapped his hand away, glaring up at the man through a veil of tears. “We were having fun! Why did you have to ruin everything?!”

The knight recoiled, exchanging a look with his partner. Roslyn wiped her eyes and turned to Everett. “I just thought you were cute and sweet and I liked you, so I wanted to make friends. That was all there was to it,” she swallowed painfully. “And you...you seemed to like me too, Ev- Lord Everett?” she hugged the flowers he bought for her closer to her chest.

Everett took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “I… I want to believe you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, but…” He grimaced, massaging his temples. “…I need to think.”

The girl let out a choked sob. “Why is it so hard to believe me?” she looked up at him with red, puffy eyes. “It’s not my fault I was born a Stallion. Shouldn’t my actions speak louder than the accident of my birth?”

“Perhaps,” was Everett’s response, “but… I need a moment, alright?” He turned to walk away, hoping he could find a bench somewhere to sit and collect his thoughts. This was a lot to take in.

The knights watched him for a second before one of them put a hand on Roslyn’s shoulder. “Come now, Lady Roslyn, it’s time we go. Your great-uncle had been worried sick about you.”

She did not look up at them, remaining rooted in place like a tree stump. As Everett began to walk away, she dashed towards him. “Wait!” Roslyn cried, grabbing him by the sleeve. “At least, if you decide you don’t hate me, write to me? It will eat me alive, not knowing your answer.”

Everett paused, looking her in the eyes. Despite being stained red around the edges, they were still a clear, striking blue. After a moment, Everett sighed. “Of course I’ll let you know. It would only be polite.”

“Really?” the young woman bit her lip, looking hopeful. “May I write back? Even if we are a Jade and a Stallion, there is no reason we cannot be friends, right?” realising she was still holding him, Roslyn removed her hand. “Just...I do like you. So I think it might be nice.”

“…We’ll see what happens,” he told her. “But if you wish to write back to me, that is your choice. I can hardly stop you.”

“That is true, Lord Jade, you cannot,” Roslyn smiled before almost immediately, her face fell. “I suppose...this is goodbye then.”

“…For now, at least,” Everett replied, before pulling away from her. “Goodbye.”

“Bye,” the young woman murmured, lowering her head. One of the knights put his arm on her shoulder and she wordlessly allowed them to lead her away.

An Unlikely Pair - Part 4 (featuring Tiger!)

SPOILER: Click to show

Everett moved aimlessly through the marketplace as he tried to sort through his thoughts. He wanted to believe Roslyn, that she had nothing but pure intentions. But at the same time, it was just so… convenient. How she came onto him so quickly, how she intentionally misdirected him about her identity…

This is all so ridiculous, he thought to himself, massaging his temples. If she was trying to trick me, what purpose would she have? Why now?

As the conflicting thoughts fought in his mind, he found himself unaware of the world around him, the commotion of the marketplace drifting out of focus entirely. In fact, he was so unfocused that the only thing that could snap him out of it was running headlong into some unknowing person just going about their business at the market.

Which was exactly what he did.

“Oh! Pardon me, I wasn’t watching where I was going…” Everett said hastily, only slowing down when he realized he had stumbled upon a familiar face. “Er… Master Leif?”

The man he had bumped into - blond, tan-skinned, wearing an expression between a scowl and a wince that enhanced the beaky look of his nose - blinked sharply. After a moment, he ventured, “...Lord Everett? I - ah, sorry - I didn’t see you. ...What are you doing here?” Leif glanced around the marketplace, brow furrowing. “Is nobody from the House with you?”

“Er, no, not currently,” Everett replied, shifting slightly. Despite the insistence of his housemates, Everett had always hated the notion that he needed an escort everywhere he went. In response to Leif’s other question, he added, “I came out here to meet someone.” He realized that he still had the rose attached to his cloak’s clasp, face tinted red as he quietly removed it. “But, er, I was thinking of going back to my room.”

The archmage’s eyebrows lifted a little as he spotted the rose, and followed the motion of Everett removing it. “If you’re sure. ...Did you not find who you were looking for? You look disappointed,” he added by way of explanation.

“No, I found her,” Everett told him. He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “I’m just… a bit confused.”

“Oh?” Leif said. Then, as if things had clicked - “Oh. Well...if you’re seeing someone, that...could certainly get complicated.”

“Excuse me,” someone muttered, and Leif edged aside to let them pass. The archmage’s frown returned as he looked around the crowded marketplace.

“I probably shouldn’t leave you without some kind of company,” Leif said after a moment. “Just to be safe. ...And, ah...if you want to talk about your...confusion - I’m not exactly renowned for romantic advice, but I can at least listen if you want to talk about it.” He shrugged lightly, fiddling with the two straps of leather he carried in his gloved hands.

“Well, it’s not exactly— I mean, it’s kind of complicated, but…” Everett frowned, glancing around at their surroundings. “…It might help to talk about it, but maybe we should go somewhere a little less crowded first.”

“Sure,” Leif agreed, sounding relieved. “I know a quieter path we can take - it goes away from the Keep at first, but what you lose in time, you get back in some quiet and personal space.” He motioned for the younger Jade to follow as he led the way through the crowd and to a path branching from the edge of the square. It led into the forest at the base of the Keep; Leif switched the leather cords into his left hand, leaving his right free to draw his wand, but otherwise seemed unconcerned about venturing into the trees.

Everett followed him, waiting until they were a good distance from the crowd before letting out a sigh. “I’m… not really certain how to explain this.”

“Hmm.” After a moment’s consideration, Leif suggested, “Maybe start with how you met her? And continue from there?”

“Alright.” Everett ran a hand through his hair as he thought back to the day before. “I was relaxing at the lake when she and two of her brothers showed up. They were having a picnic.” He paused, thinking about this for a moment before continuing. “After we talked for a while, she invited me to join them. I figured there was no harm in it, so I did.”

He paused again, trying to sort through his thoughts before continuing. “She was… nice. It was obvious that she, well, she liked me… and there was something about her that just… I don’t know how to explain it.” A hint of a smile crossed the Jade heir’s face. “But I liked it. I wanted to get to know her better. So… we decided to meet at the marketplace later. Today.”

His smile faded, shifting to a frown. “…That’s when I found out that she had been lying to me.”

Leif winced sympathetically. “Well, that’s not exactly the best start to a relationship. I’m sorry. What was she lying about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well, they— they were all wearing simple clothes, so I thought that they were peasants,” Everett explained. “And she kept lying about herself, so that I would keep believing that. But then…” He signed again, pinching his brow. “Then we ran into some Stallion knights, and… argh.”

“Stallion knights?” Leif repeated. “So - she’s not a peasant, but the knights... “ He blinked sharply. “Ah. They recognized her?”

Everett nodded. “Yes… she’s a Stallion.”

His tone had been very serious - which made it completely unexpected when Leif poorly stifled a snort of laughter. “So that’s the trouble, is it? That she’s a Stallion?”

“I, er… sort of? I mean…” Everett seemed a bit flustered by Leif’s reaction, again trying to sort through his thoughts. “It’s not that she’s a Stallion so much as the fact that she lied about it.”

Leif cleared his throat, his tone sobering. “That makes sense; a lie isn’t a good thing to start any sort of relationship on. Especially if you were honest with her about being a Jade from the beginning?”

“I was,” Everett confirmed. “…I was wearing the House colors, so I couldn’t have lied even if I wanted to.”

Leif nodded with a little chuckle of understanding. “The green and gold is a little distinctive. ...I wonder if that’s why she lied - we have our reputation up north as being stuffy. And prideful. Old-fashioned. I would hope House Stallion isn’t encouraging those rumors, especially seeing as they actually know some of us personally, the Grand Duchess included, but...well.” He sighed, muttering, “I guess people were right about one marriage between adoptees not fixing things.”

Glancing back at Everett, Leif returned to his original point. “Anyway - I wonder if she was afraid you might stop being friendly if you knew she was a Stallion.”

Everett thought on Leif’s words, trying to decide what to respond to first. “She did mention she was concerned how I would react… I guess I can understand that, but…” His frown deepened. “She lied to me about being a Stallion, and took advantage of that to befriend me? To woo me, even? …I’m not sure how I should feel about that.”

“It was wrong of her to lie to you about it,” Leif agreed with a firm nod. “And it’s definitely something to talk to her about, if you decide to see her again.”But...she couldn’t have hidden that she was a Stallion forever. Not unless she planned to disappear when the Stallion delegations went back north. It seems...short-sighted in terms of sabotaging plans. Much more like someone scared and not quite thinking straight. ...How did she react when you found out?”

“She was… upset,” was Everett’s answer. “Very upset.”

“...Angry upset, or…?”

“…Sort of. She was angry at the knights for giving her away.” Everett’s expression kept shifting between emotions, currently hovering somewhere between disconcerted and contemplative. “Other than that, she… cried, and insisted that she had no ill intent. …I want to believe her, but I just… it’s a lot to take in.”

“That’s fair - it was no small secret.” His gaze drifting to the path ahead, Leif asked, “What do you think you’ll do if you decide she’s genuine?”

Everett pondered the question. “Well… as I said, she was very nice to me. I think I would still like to get to know her better.”

“It sounds like the Houses could still use a little more friendliness,” Leif said with wry exhaustion. “Maybe it would make more impact if they’re blood-relatives, not stray adoptees. ...Well, as stray as a Corvid noble can really be, in my case.”

Everett’s brow furrowed in thought, as if trying to figure something out. “…Wait a minute. Your husband… Kirin, was it? Was he a Stallion?”

Leif paused, giving Everett a confused frown. “...Yes? Technically he still is - Kirin just never took his House name. Did...did you not know?” The bafflement on the archmage’s face was plain. “I mean...everyone here knows, so I suppose it’s not exactly something people feel the need to bring up, but...even back in Corvus, you never heard anything about this? I was led to believe it was sort of a scandal at the time.”

“It’s possible someone mentioned it, but… I suppose I could have forgotten.” Everett shook his head, the hints of a wry smile crossing his face, “…Heh. And all this time, I’ve been talking about a Stallion coming onto me like it was unheard of…”

Leif snorted with amusement. “Once you said she was a Stallion, I thought that was why you agreed to talk to me about it.” He shook his head. “Well - at least people moved on to complaining about other things. Although,” he cautioned, “keep in mind Kirin and I are both adoptive members of our Houses, Kirin never took his House’s surname, and there was a different Grand Duke heading Bern. And you can ask your Aunt Chamile sometime how much of a fuss people made over it. ...Well, you can probably ask any number of people, but - “ The archmage cut himself off, shaking his head and flicking his hand like he needed to physically dismiss his tangent.

“My point is - I’m hardly going to tell you you shouldn’t pursue your interest if you think she’s genuine. But the both of you should be prepared - it’s...probably not going to be easy,” Leif warned. “People were horrified with me marrying a Stallion as an archmage and an adoptive Jade - you’re the heir to the whole province, and you would be bringing a Stallion into the House, not just tucking away in a neutral city-state like Kirin and I did.”

Everett frowned, thinking on this. “As the heir to House Jade, I have to think about who I court very carefully. I told her as such when I thought she was a peasant. But now that she’s been confirmed a Stallion… I’m not sure which is worse, reputation-wise.” He shook his head again. “That said, our Houses are on much better terms than they’ve ever been. I wouldn’t expect any subterfuge from them…”

“It would be quite the step backwards,” Leif said, adding with dark amusement, “Especially since they’d be irritating an archmage in the process - I have a lot riding on Jade and Stallion playing nicely.” More seriously, he asked Everett, “I don’t suppose you know if her family would be agreeable to the idea? I don’t need to tell you noble daughters tend to be promised to other families, and if she’s about your age...”

“I don’t know,” Everett replied. “I’m not even certain my own family would agree to it. …Well, Father would probably be thrilled if I brought home a love match, but…” He sighed, shaking his head. “…I suppose I can understand why she would be nervous, with all this uncertainty about it. But to push on in spite of it, she must either have a purpose for it, or…”

He fell silent for a few moments, a contemplative look on his face, before finally adding, “Or… she just likes me that much…”

“Certainly a possibility,” Leif said, a note of teasing in his voice. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out. ...Well, actually, I guess there are a few, but I recommend ‘talking’ over ‘alleyway rescue’ or the like. The later can work, but she wouldn’t thank you for it.”

“Heh.” Everett shook his head. “…But I think you’re right. I should talk to her.”

“Good idea. ...And Lord Everett - if she’s sincere, I really do hope it works out for the two of you. More good blood between Jade and Stallion definitely can’t hurt.”

“Thank you,” Everett replied. “And… thank you for listening, as well.”

“Of course. And if you ever want or need to talk more about it, I’m only a letter away,” Leif said, and grinned. “We Stallion-romancing Jade heathens have to stick together, after all.”

Everett chuckled at this. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, thank you.”

***

It was the next day, after Everett had attended to all of his business for the moment, when he found himself wandering down the streets of Medieville yet again. As he made his way to his destination, his thoughts continually cycled through the events of the day before. The marketplace, the knights, Roslyn’s face… Master Leif was right, he needed to talk to Roslyn.

Which is how he found himself at the doors of Stallion Manor, taking a deep breath before knocking on the door. He continued running the words he wanted to say through his mind as he waited for someone to open the door. This was a situation he had to handle very carefully, after all.

But he didn’t have to wait long, as he was answered shortly by a Stallion servant, who blinked like a startled mouse. “Ah, hello, Lord Jade. How unexpected,” she beckoned him inside. “Please wait here. I-I shall get someone.”

Before Everett could open his mouth to reply, she scurried away into the depths of the Manor. Returning shortly, she gestured to the Jade with her palm. “Please follow me, my Lord.”

“Thank you,” Everett said, following after her.

She lead him upstairs and down a hallway to a thick oak door which she pushed open, revealing a spacious office. Inside, sitting at the desk, was an elderly man dressed in comfortable robes dyed in Ascension colours, though the red cloak and horse brooch that secured it hinted at his origin. Though he was old and certainly looked frail, it was obvious by the clear, gentle eyes that peered through his glasses that his mind was anything but.

“Hello, Lord Everett. Do forgive me if I don’t stand: my joints are giving me some pain lately, I’m afraid” Ambrose said, smiling at him. “I must admit, after what the knights told me happened in the marketplace yesterday, I didn’t expect to see you here. Is this about Roslyn?”

“That’s right,” Everett confirmed. “…I wanted to talk to her, if that’s alright.”

A small sigh came from the Stallion. “You can, I don’t intend to stop you, but she’s still a bit upset. If she doesn’t want to see you, you will respect that, right, Lord Jade?”

Everett nodded slowly. “I feel it is very important that I speak to her, but… if she doesn’t wish to see me, I understand.”

“Alright,” the Stallion nodded and looked past Everett towards the servant who had invited him in. “Clara, could you tell Roslyn that Lord Jade is here and he is waiting for her in my office?”

“Yes, my lord,” the servant woman said. She bowed quickly in turn to the two noblemen before hastily exiting the room.

Silence settled over the two men for a few pregnant seconds. “You know, Lord Jade, Roslyn really was anxious about you judging her just because she is a Stallion,” Ambrose interjected, “I know our Houses have had a rocky relationship in the past but I had hoped, especially with Master Leif and Master Kirin being what they are, that was slowly on the mend.”

He looked directly at Everett, his eyes carrying a tinge of sadness. “Do you really think badly of us?”

Everett sighed. He should have expected that Roslyn would tell her housemates about what happened. “I hold no ill feelings toward House Stallion. I would only hope you would feel likewise about House Jade.”

“I don’t, and never have. As far as I am aware, Isabelle holds no grudges against your House either,” Ambrose said in a calm, measured voice. “However, the sourness between Jade and Stallion runs deep. Even if none of us feel any kind of malice towards the other, we can’t escape the history between our two Houses.”

A smile formed on his face. “But you strike me as intelligent and reasonable enough to look past that, and Roslyn has obviously taken a shine to you. I hope our collective histories don’t keep you two down.”

Everett nodded, pondering over the words. Before he could voice a response, however, he was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open.

“Lord Ambrose?” the servant woman, Clara, poked her head in through the door. “I brought Lady Roslyn.”

Behind her, the young Stallion woman slowly walked in, trying to look as dignified as possible while still not looking at Everett. Unlike the previous times he had seen her, she was dressed in an elegant light grey dress whose bright crimson trim shimmered as she walked. “Hello, Lord Jade,” she said in as neutral a tone as she could muster, her face a mask of noble politeness. “I must confess, I did not expect to see you again so soon. What can I do for you?”

“Lady Roslyn,” Everett spoke, hesitating over the title. It still felt strange, thinking of her as a noble, but he supposed he would have to get over that. He glanced toward Ambrose, pondering if he should ask for privacy, but ultimately decided that it didn’t really matter. “I… came here to apologize. I should not have reacted as I did yesterday.”

“Thank you, Lord Jade,” Roslyn murmured. She placed a hand on her elbow, shuffling on her feet. Before she could say another word, there was a loud scrape of wood against the floorboards as Ambrose pushed his chair back and began to walk towards the door.

“I best give you two a bit of privacy,” he remarked, smiling at both of them. “If you need me, I’ll be along the way, in my workshop,” the Stallion turned to the servant who had been standing patiently by the door. “Would you tell Emil and Ennis that as well? We would not want them interrupting.”

“Of course,” she replied. When Ambrose had exited, she closed the door behind them, leaving Everett and Roslyn alone.

She swallowed, bowing her head. An expectant silence hung over them. “I should apologise too,” Roslyn finally said. “I should have told you who we all were by the lake.”

“…That was the other thing I wanted to talk about,” Everett told her. “I reacted strongly when I found out you were a Stallion, but not because you’re a Stallion. Well… not exactly. …I don’t want the old rivalry to come between us.” He was tripping over his words a bit, but he hoped he was making sense. He lowered his head, attempting to catch her gaze. “And I don’t want you to feel like you have to lie to me.”

A sigh of relief came from Roslyn and she looked up, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “That’s a relief. Thank you, Lord Jade,” the young woman said, shifting in her place. “I don’t want the old rivalry to come between us either, since I do like you. You’re cute, you’re really sweet, and you’re generous. Even if you can be a bit serious stuffy sometimes, it’s actually kind of endearing.”

“Er, thank you,” Everett replied, turning slightly red at the comment. He cleared his throat before continuing. “But yes. I don’t believe you had any ill intent in what you did, but I would appreciate if you could be honest with me in the future. If you can agree to that…” He paused, his stiff diplomatic composure giving way to something more relaxed. “…Then I would hope we could at least be friends?”

“Friends?” Roslyn’s smile broke into an outright grin. She nodded vigorously. “Yes, I would really like that. It’s not like I have any more secrets to hide anyway…”

The girl faltered slightly, looking away. “We do have to go home in a few days though,” she glanced back. “Like I said at the market, I’ll write to you. How about that? Will that be enough for a friendship, you think, Lord Jade- Everett- Lord Everett?” she giggled. “I’m sorry, what should I call you?”

Everett thought on this for a moment. “Well, I suppose if we’re going to be friends, you may as well call me Everett,” he decided. With a smile, he added, “And certainly, I’d be happy to keep in touch.”

“Alright, Lor- Everett. Everett,” Roslyn rolled the name over her tongue in order to get a feel for it. She smiled, clasping her arms behind her back. “You can call me just Roslyn then. My siblings call me Ros sometimes but that may be a little too informal for you.”

“Very well, Roslyn.” Everett paused. Clearly the both of them were going to have to get used to that. He shook his head. “But yes. I suppose what I came here to say is… I think you’re a pleasant person, and I don’t believe you the type to have malicious intent. I apologize for doubting you yesterday, but I’m trusting you now.”

He gave a sarcastic smile before adding, “Just as long as you don’t turn out to be a wicked seductress behind my back.”

She laughed loudly. “Seduction and wickedness at the most minimal level, got it,” her eyes twinkled with amusement as she said that. “So, if we’re going to be friends, would you like to stay for lunch? Great uncle probably won’t mind and the cooks said they’re going to make cheese pastries. And we will be eating them all together so I promise they won’t be poisoned.” Roslyn grinned before looking down at her feet again. “That is, if you don’t have any other plans…”

“Oh, well…” Everett pondered this for a moment. “I don’t have anything else to do today, so I suppose it couldn’t hurt to stay a while.”

The girl’s face lit up as she turned back to Everett. “That’s great! Our cook is really fantastic, you’ll love it. I’ll go tell great uncle you’ll be staying.”

She tore herself from her spot and rushed towards the door, pulling it open. Instead of an empty hall, however, two blinking freckled faces framed with bright ginger locks stared back at her, startled by the sudden reveal of their position.

Roslyn folded her arms over her chest, tapping her foot as she looked at her brothers. “And just how long have you been eavesdropping?”

“It was his idea,” Ennis pointed up at Emil. “He said we should go listen to how you and Everett were getting along!”

“Thanks, Ennis. Remind me to not take you on rides on ‘the big horsie’ for selling me out like that,” Emil grumbled before turning back to his sister and the Jade, grinning as widely as he could. Even though he was now dressed in noble finery instead of the peasant clothes Everett had met him in, they failed to make him look in any way regal or intimidating.

Roslyn groaned. “Brothers,” the young woman looked back at Everett with an embarrassed smile. “They find ways to be idiots even when they are the Duke of Bern,” she glared back at Emil. “And should really act like it instead of sneaking around like common thieves.”

“And to think we’ll be rivals someday,” Everett teased. He shook his head, turning to Roslyn. “But as I said before, I certainly know how it is to have brothers.”

Her shoulders dropped in relief. “Thank Woo. I thought for sure I’d have to convince you that no, we Stallions are not spying on you but it’s only my brothers poking their noses where they don’t belong,” the young woman glared at them both.

“I just wanted to know what my baby sister is up to,” Emil shrugged. “And Ennis wanted to know what his big sister was doing too.”

“Did not,” Ennis huffed. “I was happy playing.”

“Oh shush, you totally wanted to go find out what Ros was doing,” the older Stallion ruffled his hair, making Ennis squeal in protest. Emil laughed and wrapped his brother in a big hug, to which the little boy responded by trying his hardest to wriggle out of his grasp.

“The scions of the great and powerful House Stallion, everyone,” Roslyn rolled her eyes, giving Everett a sly smile. “You still think you have anything to worry about from a House where this clown is going to be in charge someday, Everett?”

Everett snorted. “Keeping in mind who is currently in charge of my own House? I’m not sure it would be wise to answer that.”

“Good point. I would hardly want to provoke you to make indecorous comments,” the young woman said, shaking her head before looking back at her brother. “Everett is going to be joining us for lunch, as I am quite sure you heard. So do be nice.”

“Of course I’ll be nice! I try to be nice to all your friends, Ros,” Emil smiled as he folded his arms. “That is, of course if they’ll be nice to her,” he shot Everett a wink.

“Duly noted,” was Everett’s response to that, before returning his attention to Roslyn. “Anyway, I assume you’ll be leading the way?”

“Of course, as any good lady should when hosting a guest,” Roslyn gave a light curtsy to Everett before looking him in the eye and smiling. “There’s still a little time before lunch. Want to go somewhere to talk? Or if you like, I can show you around the Manor?”

“Giving all our secrets away to the Jade, Ros?” Emil asked, folding his arms, though by the amused tone of his voice and his shameless grin, it was clear he meant none of that seriously.

Despite this, she rolled her eyes. “Not a Jade, Emil, a friend. I’m showing a friend around,” the young woman gently chided. “So, Everett, what would you like? Ignore my brother; even if you are a Jade, you are welcome anywhere.”

Everett couldn’t help but smile at that. That she was willing to trust him so fully was certainly a good sign for her credibility. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to take a look around, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. Come on, follow me,” Roslyn gestured after herself. “I’ll tell great-uncle you’re staying first and then I’ll show you the courtyard. My great-great-grandfather had a funny sense of humour so he had some...interesting carvings put in places where nobody could see. Then maybe we can go around to the small herb garden? This time of year, it smells amazing. After that, it will probably be time for lunch,” she smiled sweetly at him. “And if anything catches your eye, let me know. I’m not going to keep anymore secrets from you.”

[PFA]

Have you ever randomly remembered an old Mafia fic you wrote and felt like posting it? Yeah me too. Thanks Ginz ❤ for approving my use of Lindsey!

Escape

SPOILER: Click to show

She was tired of being the baby sister. Just because her twin brother Nathan (older than her by two measly minutes!) was more successful than her, with his own business and everything, that didn't mean she couldn't do anything he could. She wanted to prove to him what she was capable of. She wanted to prove it to everyone!

Those were the thoughts that went through Lindsey Lukas' mind as she crept through the dark streets of Aifam Cove, clutching her bag full of spray paint cans protectively. The news reports claimed there was a mafia on the loose, vandalizing the town and making a big scare of it. Well, she could do that, too. That would sure show Nathan—she was just as bad as the big bad mafia!

She soon arrived at her destination, staring up at the clean wall in front of her. She smiled to herself, pulling out a can of spray paint. She would never get caught, of course—she was but a simple cake baker, and there was a mafia on the loose who people could point fingers at. All she had to do was tag the wall, then get home before anyone saw her. No problem.

Then she started to paint. She didn't know what she was painting, exactly, and it didn't matter. All she needed to do was to make a statement, and that was what she was going to do.

"Excuse me."

Lindsey let out a stifled yelp whirling around toward the source of the voice. She was surprised to see a man she faintly recognized: he was a college professor, and a regular at Nathan's tea shop... Bardsley, was it?

"I-I can explain!" she stammered, dropping the spray paint can and holding her hands up. "I'm not actually the mafia, I just—"

"Relax," Professor Bardsley replied, shaking his head calmly. "I won't tell anyone."

Lindsey frowned, uncertain what to make of this response. "Then... what are you doing here?"

Professor Bardsley frowned. Of course she would ask that; it was obviously suspicious that he was wandering around in back alleys at night like this. But should he tell her the truth? She said she wasn't the mafia, but she was imitating them... maybe she was looking for the same thing as him?

He wasn't sure why, but he was certain he had to take the chance.

He scanned the area, making sure that no one else was around to hear him. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he took a deep breath, before speaking slowly. "I... was hoping to find the mafia, actually."

"To stop them?" Lindsey questioned.

"...Not exactly."

Lindsey was stunned by this response. This kind-looking professor? The mafia? He didn't look the type at all, but then again... wait. This man was looking to join the mafia. The real mafia. Her blood ran cold at the realization. Maybe... maybe she was as bad as the big bad mafia. And this was her chance to prove it.

"Well, I might not be the mafia, but you could, um..." she mumbled, gesturing to her bag full of spray paint. "...You could join me if you like."

Professor Bardsley was silent at first. This wasn't who he was expecting to meet, certainly, but he had already told her why he was here... and she was offering. Mafia or not, this was basically what he was looking for, wasn't it?

Finally, he made his decision, giving her a pleasant smile. "Alright. Why not?"

Lindsey smiled back at him, pulling out a can of spray paint and handing it to him. He accepted it readily, and the two of them got to work on decorating the wall. It was exhilarating for the both of them. For the first time in forever, they could finally express themselves. They could finally be free.

"So you want to join the mafia, huh?" Lindsey asked, to break the silence.

"...I was considering it, yes," Professor Bardsley replied. "I thought it would be an interesting change of pace from the usual mundane monotony of day-to-day life."

"I have to admit, I'm surprised," Lindsey told him. "I mean... you don't usually see people like you in the mafia, you know?"

Silence. And then, "Well, I... I'm not exactly like most people."

Lindsey looked confused. Professor Bardsley wasn't surprised—he had never admitted this to anyone before, and it made him nervous to do so. But somehow, right now, it just felt right. He had already come this far; there was no turning back now.

"You see, it's... it's not always easy being different and pretending not to be," he explained carefully. "It's a constant effort, and sometimes I just can't take it anymore, but I have to, or..." He stopped himself, letting out a sigh. "...I think... I think I need an outlet."

Lindsey frowned, thinking on this response. She didn't really understand all of what he was saying, but she understood the emotion behind it. "Me too, I guess," she said. "I'm tired of being treated like the baby sister all the time. I want to show the world what I'm really capable of."

"Your brother is Nathan Lukas, right?" Professor Bardsley asked. "From the Starlight Teahouse?"

"Yeah, that's him." Lindsey nodded. "Don't get me wrong, I love my brother, but sometimes I just feel... overshadowed, you know?"

"You shouldn't be. You seem to be quite the capable woman, yourself," Professor Bardsley remarked. "You work at Everington Cakes, don't you? I've been there a few times. The cakes there are quite delectable."

"I do, and thank you! I put my heart and soul into those cakes," Lindsey said with a smile. She paused briefly, and then, "I'm Lindsey, by the way."

"Leland Bardsley." Professor Bardsley smiled back at her. "It's a pleasure."

"Likewise."

The two of them returned their attention to the graffiti, silent as they worked on their masterpiece. It was clear that neither of them had any particular artwork in mind, simply decorating the wall with random streaks of color, but their combined work made for an interesting pattern, beautiful in its own way. When they were done, they each took a step back, staring up at their completed mural. Lindsey thought it looked a little bit like a snowflake, which was oddly fitting—every snowflake was unique, just like them.

"You know," she whispered, "we might not be the real mafia, but... we could be."

Professor Bardsley blinked, puzzled by the remark. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe it can just be the two of us, doing stuff like this," Lindsey suggested, gesturing to their newly painted graffiti. "We could be our own mafia! It would be fun, and we can do whatever we want to do, with no one to stop us! What do you think?"

"Our own mafia?" Professor Bardsley thought on this for a moment. "Well, it would certainly be interesting to see how the town deals with two mafias..."

"Yeah! We could be the, um..." Lindsey glanced at the graffiti again thoughtfully. "...The Snowflakes?"

"Snowflakes?" Bardsley wondered.

"Well, it looks a little like a snowflake, to me..."

Professor Bardsley fell silent, pondering this. And then, he smirked. "The Chill of the Night."

"Ooh! I like that," Lindsey remarked. "It sounds so mysterious."

"Well, who would suspect a cake baker and a college professor to be mafia?"

"Haha, yeah..."

And so, once their task was complete, the newly formed Chill of the Night disappeared into the darkness.

[PFA]

WHOA HEY time to dust off this thread with an overdue Medieval fic! \ o / Collabed with Tiger

Locked In

SPOILER: Click to show

The past two weeks had been long and full of hardship, but finally, the day of Princess Destiney's coronation had arrived.

Of course, Lord Everett realized, it was hardly time to celebrate just yet. There was still plenty that could go wrong, the least of which being that a suitor had not yet been chosen for the rising queen. Indeed, what was far more concerning was the presence of the Courdonian royalty for this coronation, especially given the recent conflicts there had been between the Courdonians and some members of his own House—the details of which he had not been made fully aware of amid the chaos of the past few days, much to the Jade Lord’s displeasure. This fog that had clouded his mind recently left him feeling disconnected from the actions of his housemates, something that clearly could have dire consequences if he did not push through it.

And so, Lord Everett decided that he would not stand idle this day. He’d taken care to dress himself in an outfit that was adequately formal for the occasion, but not so elaborate that it would restrict his movement. He also chose to carry his dagger with him, concealed expertly beneath his cloak. He hoped that the tensions with the Courdonians wouldn’t lead to open hostilities, but he’d decided it best to play it safe.

Apparently he had taken longer to get ready than he’d anticipated, as the next thing he heard was Joffery’s voice, calling for him through the door.

“Father, do you happen to know why—” The doorknob rattled loudly as Joffery tried to open the door, causing the Lord of Embers to raise a perplexed eyebrow. Was it locked? He didn’t recall locking it, but with the state of his mind recently, perhaps he had just forgotten. “Hello? Are you alright in there?”

“Calm down, Joffery,” Everett responded, approaching the door himself. “The door is locked; it's nothing to panic over.”

As soon as he said this, however, he glanced down to realize that the door had not been locked from the inside, nor did Everett have any means of unlocking it on his own. Everett frowned. How in Woo’s name did he get locked in?

“But I can’t open it,” Joffery said. “Can you?”

“...No,” Everett admitted with a sigh. “It must be locked from the outside. Go find Marson; he must have the key.”

The sound of retreating footsteps indicated that Joffery hurried off to do just that, leaving Everett alone to ponder this bothersome circumstance. Someone must have locked him in the room, but for what reason? If this was his Marson’s doing, he would have to have some stern words with him later...

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before his cousin's voice came through the door, accompanied by the sound of jangling keys. “Terribly sorry, my lord. I don't know how this happened!”

Everett paused to wait until the door was open, but with the sound of Marson futilely trying each key on the lock, the Jade Lord frowned. “Marson…”

“I... I don't seem to have the right keys,” Marson stammered, and Everett suppressed a groan. “I wonder if I lost them yesterday...?”

“I need the door opened, Marson,” Everett told him curtly. If the door wasn’t opened soon, he was going to be late for the coronation, and it would be humiliating to be delayed from such an important event thanks to something so trivial. “And quickly, would be ideal.”

“Right, of course... maybe we could break the door down? Oh! I bet it would make a wonderful sound—”

“That will not be necessary.” Everett pinched his brow, his aggravation growing. “Look, just... ask one of the mages. They should be able to open it.”

“O-of course, my lord!” Marson replied, before hurrying off. Everett sighed. That ridiculous cousin of his was going to be the death of him.

“It’s so strange,” came Joffery’s voice again. “Jeniver’s door is locked, too. But how did this happen...?”

“Jeniver, too?” This was troubling news. His door being locked without his knowing was bothersome, but if Jeniver’s was locked as well, that indicated a pattern. But who would lock their doors, and why? It was Xavier who had locked up Jeniver last time, but... no, Everett was certain that issue had been resolved. It was unlikely that Xavier would go back on his word, especially given how well he seemed to be getting along with his housemates recently. But who, then? Was it an intentional sabotage, meant to keep House Jade away from the coronation?

Everett didn’t have long to ponder it, however, as the sound of another person’s approaching footsteps caught his ears. Confirming the newcomer’s identity, Joffery cried, “Master Leif, you must help! My father is trapped inside!”

“Yes, Lord Joffery,” came the slightly curt voice of the House archmage. “It should just take a second. Alwoohomora.” There was a flash of green light through the keyhole, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning - and then the sound of it abruptly stopping. The knob twisted in the opposite direction and still refused to turn.

“I...it’s still locked.” Leif sounded confused. “Did someone ward it?”

Everett was suspicious before, but now he was sure—this was intentional. But who would have done this? The Stallions were a possibility, but the idea of them having anti-magic locks, and then wasting them on something so asinine, seemed unlikely. Perhaps the rebels…?

Regardless, it was something he could worry about later. For now, there was the matter of getting out. “There must be some way to open it,” Everett said. “Is there something else you can try?”

Leif said, “I can try taking the doorknob off. Most locking spells keep that from working, but this doesn’t seem to be a typical one.” There was a pause, then another flash of green through the keyhole. The doorknob jiggled again as Leif pulled on it, but to no avail; the knob stuck steadfastly in place. “For the love of - ...All right.” A huff. “Let me look at the spellwork.”

The pause this time was quite a bit longer. Finally, Leif said, “I...don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t recognize these runes. ...I don’t know if they’re even runes so much as pictures?”

“Not runes? …A different type of magic, perhaps?” Non-incantational magic, though not common in Corvus, was something that Everett knew to exist. Unfortunately, his knowledge of it was rather limited—as was Leif’s, from the sound of it. That was going to make this difficult.

“Maybe we should break down the door,” came Joffery’s voice.

“I’m not entirely opposed to that,” Leif said. “I know it’s property damage...but this definitely seems like non-incantational magic, and I’m not sure how long it would take me to work it out. ...How should we handle this, Lord Everett?”

“I’d rather not break down the door unless we have to, but at this rate…” Everett let out a strained sigh as he considered his options. This was certainly not how he had expected his morning to go. “…How about the hinges? Can you take off the hinges?”

Leif replied, “It’s worth a try.” He sounded skeptical, but there was a corresponding flicker of green near the hinges a second later. “...I...I think the runes just snickered?” There was another pause, but then someone fiddled with the hinges. “No, no luck. ...But maybe non-magical means would work on them - Baron Marson, do you have tools that could get them off?”

“Er, I might? I’ll see what I can find,” Marson said, before, from the sound of it, hurrying off.

“In the meantime, Joffery, go find out if any of the mages know about this type of magic,” Everett suggested. “Maybe Sir Magerage, or one of the new recruits.”

“Okay,” Joffery replied meekly, before also hurrying off.

As he waited, Everett frowned, pacing in front of the door thoughtfully. This stubborn lock was becoming more of a hindrance than he thought it would be. “I can’t imagine who would do this, and why,” he mused aloud. “Why now? And why Jeniver, too?”

“It’s certainly odd,” Leif agreed from the other side of the door. “I could see why the Courdonians might not want us there, but if they were able to get far enough into the Manor to lock the doors...why stop there? Maybe the Stallions or Shadows...except…not to sound arrogant, but why wouldn’t they lock me up? Or Lord Joffery, since he’s competing for the Princess’ hand?”

“I agree. It seems so… juvenile,” Everett said. Massaging his brow, he continued, “I suppose this is Medieville; it could be the drunken whim of one of the locals for all I know. But then how did they get into the manor without anyone noticing?”

“This strange magic, I suppose? Which doesn’t make things any clearer; it still implies someone with skill came in and nothing more. Maybe the motive is just to play a prank. You’re right that this city is very odd.”

“It certainly is that,” Everett agreed with a scowl. Why was it that every trip he took to Medieville somehow ended in some aggravating nonsense like this? Woo, he couldn’t wait for this whole ordeal to be over. At least in Corvus, things made some sense.

There was the sound of footsteps again, followed by Joffery’s voice. “None of the mages I talked to say they know anything about non-incantational magic,” he said. “And I can’t find Sir Magerage.”

“Lovely.” Everett knew that it wasn’t unusual for his housemates to wander off on their own, but it was aggravating that Sir Magerage would pick now, of all times. Hopefully nothing had happened to him… but he would have to worry about that later. “I suppose all we can do now is wait for—”

“I found something!” came Marson’s voice, as he presumably returned with some sort of tool. It was a bit annoying, Everett thought, not being able to see what was going on. “Do you think this might work, Master Leif?”

“Hm...I think with the right force, you could get the hinges out. But you’ll need the magic pulled away from them, I think.” Another moment of quiet, though this one came with a bit of Leif muttering something to himself. “All right - this piece here, I can...wedge it away, for lack of a better term. So, when I say - ah, wait. Lord Everett? You might want to stay back from the door; I don’t know which way it’s going to fall.”

“Right, of course.” Everett nodded, taking several steps back. “Go ahead.”

“All right, here I go...” There was as flicker of green light through the gaps between the door and the wall, and then Leif snapped, “Now, you should be able to get it now!” Several loud taps and metallic scrapes joined the light, followed by a clatter. Another flash, more noises -

And at last, the door fell from its hinges. There was a hastily-stifled curse from Leif as the door fell their way, high-pitched yelps from Joffery and Marson both, and an awkward series of thunks as someone managed to catch the wayward door before they eased it aside.

“Thank the Woo,” Everett uttered, relieved to see the faces of his housemates on the other side of the door.

Apparently Joffery shared that relief, promptly darting into the room and surprising Everett with a hug. “Father! You’re okay!”

“Of course I’m okay, Joffery. It was just a locked door,” Everett grumbled, pushing Joffery away. “Now then, I’m to understand that Jeniver was locked in her room, as well?”

“Oh! Yes! We should rescue her, too,” Joffery agreed. He thought for a moment, then added, “Assuming she hasn’t already broken a window and escaped through that.”

Everett suppressed a sigh. That reckless niece of his was going to cost House Jade a fortune in repairs. “Regardless, we should attend to that. Then afterwards, we should make haste to the coronation; we don’t want to be late.”

“Agreed,” Leif said, running his thumb over the feather-shaped pendant hanging from his neck. His eyes darted briefly to meet Everett’s. “Lady Jeniver isn’t coming to the coronation, is she? Given the...the new guests attending?”

Everett paused to think on this. “Given everything that’s happened recently, even in the privacy of home…” He gestured to the removed door, though they both knew that was hardly the worst thing that had happened in the past few days. “I can’t say for certain that it would be safe to stay here, either. It may be wise to keep her close. …I will leave it to Lord Charles’ discretion.”

Leif’s lips thinned in an expression of displeasure, but he nodded his acceptance, and conceded, “This incident doesn’t speak well of the manor’s security, no. ...Speaking of Lord Charles - we had best hurry and free Lady Jeniver quickly. Hopefully before we have to tell him about it.”

“Agreed,” Everett said.

[PFA]

Whoa hey! I was thinking about Medieval recently, remembering some of my character arcs that never got finished, and thought I'd rectify that a bit with an old fic I finally decided to finish.

(Also, changed the thread title in case I decide to write some April Showers fics or something! Can't hurt.)

The Unwanted Gift

SPOILER: Click to show

Caroline flopped down on one of the sofas with a heavy sigh. It had been a few days since her arranged marriage to Lord Iskandar Talfryn, and each one of those days had been filled with nonstop stress. Moving so far away from home, to a country she hated, with a man she didn't like... it could never be overstated how much she loathed being the neglected daughter of a noble lord.

Her eyes fell upon a long-eared man nearby, who was dutifully polishing the furniture. A slave, she recalled, as her brow furrowed. Slavery was considered highly unethical in her home country of Kyth, but here in Courdon, it was commonplace. Caroline wasn't sure she would ever get used to that.

This one in particular had been purchased by Iskandar as a gift for her, a fact she remembered with disgust. He was an elf, which were highly valued as slaves due to their longevity, and was probably considered an incredibly thoughtful gift by Courdonian standards. Caroline, though, could only think of the elves back home, with whom her birth family worked closely, who had a burning hatred against Courdon for this very reason. Caroline hadn't said as such to Iskandar, though, out of fear of being punished for it. Her opinion didn't matter—not here, not ever.

Well, I guess he was a gift for me, she thought to herself. I may as well make the most of it.

Caroline sat up straight, gesturing to the elf. "Hey, you there."

The elf snapped to attention, abruptly stopping what he was doing and bowing submissively to her. "I am at your service, Anki."

Caroline winced. Being called that... she wasn't sure she would ever get used to that, either. "...Don't worry," she replied gently. "It's nothing bad. I just want to talk."

"Oh, I... I can talk about whatever you wish," the elf told her, seeming a bit confused. He probably wasn't used to his owners treating him like a person, Caroline realized. That was... awfully sad.

"Are you from Nid'aigle?" she asked, referring to the elven capitol back in Kyth. It was illegal for Courdonians to take Kythian citizens as slaves, but that never stopped the slave raiders from crossing the border. If he was an illegal slave...

The elf hesitated. "I... I think so."

"You 'think' so?"

"P-please forgive me, Anki, it's just... I haven't heard the name of my h-hometown in a very long time."

Caroline frowned. "...How long have you been here, then? In Courdon?"

"Many years," he told her. "I d-don't recall the precise number, I'm sorry."

Caroline could guess, though. For him to not recall the name of his own home, it was likely that he had been here for most of his life. And elves lived for hundreds of years... the thought of it was utterly harrowing. What if he was taken before the Courdonian-Kythian treaty was made? What were the legal implications of that?

"It's okay; I'm not mad at you," she assured him, realizing that the elf was starting to shiver under her gaze. Had he been punished before for giving unclear answers? The poor man. "...What's your name?"

"It's Julien, Anki."

"I'm Caroline," she replied, secretly hoping it would get him to stop calling her Anki. Probably not, though—even if Caroline would have preferred it, it was probably considered disrespectful, and disrespectful slaves were not usually treated kindly. "I'm from House Jade, in Kyth."

"Jade..." Julien repeated quietly. Caroline thought she could see a hint of recognition in his eyes, and she smiled.

"It's based in Corvus," she explained, hoping it might jog his memory more. "That's where Nid'aigle is."

"I... I think I knew someone from House Jade," Julien told her, haltingly, as if hoping he wouldn't be punished for it. "A long time ago."

"Oh really?" Caroline wondered. "Do you remember their name?"

Julien fell silent for a while. Then, he shook his head. "No, Anki... I'm sorry."

It wasn't terribly surprising, given that he didn't even remember the name of Nid'aigle. Still, Caroline had to wonder—who could he have known from House Jade? It was probably hundreds of years ago, so whoever it was would be long dead before she was even born.

...Unless...

"By any chance, was this person... an elf?" she guessed. There was an elf who worked for House Jade, as an advisor. She'd never been able to get his exact age (though she'd asked him many times), but she was pretty sure he had met multiple generations of her ancestors, so maybe...

Julien nodded. "Y-yes."

"I might know him," she told him. "Is his name Peter?"

"Peter..." Julien's voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. Then, after a moment of contemplative silence, tears started to roll down his cheeks. "I... f-forgive me, Anki, I..."

Caroline felt a pit well in her stomach. Memories flashed through her mind, of Peter's disapproval of her marriage to Iskandar, and his angry words when speaking about Courdon in general. She hadn't really thought to question it before, but he seemed really bitter, even for an elf. What if this was the reason? Did he and Julien know each other?

"No, no, it's okay," she assured him. She desperately wanted to give him a hug, but she wasn't sure how he would react if she did, so she refrained herself. "I'm not mad at you. It's okay."

There was silence for a while, save for Julien's quiet sobbing as he tried to regain his composure. Finally, after some deep breaths, he spoke. "I-I apologize if this is out of line, but... could I ask something?"

Caroline nodded. "Yes, of course."

"How... how is he?"

"...He's alright," Caroline replied slowly. "Were you two close?"

"My..." Julien swallowed. "My brother."

Woo above. Of all the slaves for Iskandar to buy for her, he'd somehow managed to find Peter's brother? She'd never heard Peter mention having a brother, but if Julien had really been living in Courdon for hundreds of years, then... Caroline felt utterly ill.

"I... I'm so sorry, I..." Caroline's eyes darted toward the doorway, making sure that none of the Talfryns were nearby. Seeing no one, she turned again to Julien, speaking quietly. "There has to be a way to get you home."

Julien looked up at her, eyes wide with terror. "N-no, I can't! I..." He flinched, bowing his head. "I don't d-deserve such a thing."

"But I can't just let you stay here," Caroline insisted.

"You would be punished, Anki," Julien told her, shaking his head. "Please, I... I'm not worth that."

Caroline bit her lip. He was right; if Iskandar caught her trying to send her expensive new slave back to Kyth, he would be furious. There was a very real possibility that he would punish both her and Julien, not to mention the political implications—would such a stunt damage the relationship between House Talfryn and House Jade? Woo, she hated politics.

"I'll... try and figure something out." She let out a forlorn sigh. "In the meantime... I know it's weird with our statuses and all, but... if you ever want to talk about anything, I'll listen." She gave him a warm smile. "Okay?"

Julien was silent for a while, unsure what to say. Then, finally, he bowed deeply. "You are incredibly generous, Anki. I... thank you."

"You're welcome." Caroline paused, then cleared her throat. "Uh, but for now, I guess you should get back to work."

"Y-yes, right away," Julien replied, hurrying back to the armrest he'd been polishing. It was only a matter of time before someone would come looking for her, Caroline thought, and she didn't want the Talfryns to see anything amiss.

Well, this was a mess. She could try talking to Iskandar about this, but he was unlikely to agree with her. She could also try informing House Jade, but that would probably damage the relationship between the two Houses. And if she just let Julien loose without telling anyone, there was no way he would make it all the way back to Corvus... and any of those options were likely to have her punished. Was there really nothing she could do?

Though she supposed, if nothing else, she could at least make sure he was as comfortable as possible while he was here. She certainly didn't mind the chance to make a friend in this awful place.