A steady inhale, with an even more controlled exhale. Dinner with his parents never ended early enough. With small precise cuts he removed a bite from the slice of roast and brought it to his lips like it was the most entertaining thing he’d ever yet encountered. As far as the meal went it could have been.
The dining hall did not echo; even tonight with guests to fill the empty spaces. Old Blood demanded respect, and it was the height of rudeness to appear a glutton or a gossip. So meals were tedious, mostly silent affairs that the aged gargoyles took great pleasure in enforcing. The stale motions of tradition were the only flexibility they had anymore. Could they not hurry off the afterlife and leave him to it yet?
It wasn’t that he hated them. How could he? He barely knew them as anything other than the current masters of the title. It was beyond obvious that both were past their prime in every aspect though, and they were too entrenched and proud to step aside for someone younger and more suited to continuing the estate.
A servant slipped in beside him and removed the plate, before being replaced with someone else just as unremarkable with a new plate. Poached fish in an herbed white sauce this time. Rhindov looked around the table from a hooded gaze, and with no surprise found that everyone was just as bored as he. They all hid it well. Manners after all. But the vacant stares and picture perfect half smiles were all too familiar. All except Patrinia and Rupard. Withered to paper puppets from their former selves and dressed in fashions sixty years out of date. They sat encased in heavy oak chairs carved with thick lines like the limbs of a bear reaching out to maul the unwary. On second thought, maybe calling them gargoyles was too generous. People intentionally installed them in their homes. His parents were wraiths, or some other unwelcome specter unaware or uncaring that their time had passed.
Round after round of dishes, each one a perfect example of a bygone era. And the tension rose with each nibble and sip. By the time the sorbet was being served, Rhin had been the subject of every kind of piercing and searching stare ever conceived. The most venomous coming from the heads of the table of course.
Given the standard pace of things, he was caught by surprise when the two cleared their throats and Rupard called for the dishes to be cleared before anyone but them had finished. They must have arranged for even smaller portions for themselves, just to have the perfect upper hand. From the other end of the table, Rhin politely dabbed his mouth and set his napkin aside as the army of help stepped forward and cleared the table. But now the guests had life in their eyes. The night was truly about to begin, now the pomp and posturing was mostly out of the way.
Chairs were pushed out, and at last the walls could throw back some sound of people living inside them. “Shall we retire to the parlor then Mother? I do know how much you love your moon window this time of year.”
“That would be agreeable, Rhindov. Come lend me your arm while we lead our guests, hm?”
“Of course.” He gave a brief glance and smile to the other five people as if in apology before joining his mother’s side. They were more a captive audience for what came next than esteemed and welcomed allies. Witnesses.
His father blocked him in on his other side, and together they marched him to the parlor where mulled wine waited next to platters of fruit. The fireplace was much too cheery, but anything with a warm glow was.
Patrinia was a severe woman, tall and thin with a spine like iron. Her dark skin was creased and wrinkled a million times over to make its own type of smoothness. Age had only stolen what little softness she had and left undeniable strength behind. Rupard had wilted with age however and seemed to resent it. He didn’t have a gut like most of his peers, but the skin hung loose on his bones these days. His eyes were the only thing sharp left on him, piercing green and currently staring him down.
The moment the last cup was passed out, it began.
“So, are the rumors true? You’ve declared for this girl?”
Rhin took the time to take a sip before replying. He already knew his parents did not approve and would be trying to get him to back out. Not that it mattered as it was all a sham anyways, but the people in attendance were in fact the ones he wanted to hear this. The High Lords Dascus, Lavane and Keirn had all been pushing their heirs at him with increasingly desperate measures. So had Ladies Trinsha and Monrae, but they had business’ he wished to build his own connections with outside of his parents. Hopefully tonight's demonstration showed there was more than one way to deal with his family and himself.
He sighed with welcome pleasure as the wine warmed him. “Yes I have.”
“Do you know her name then? What limb of the Quiace tree is she the fruit of?”
There was a hungry silence that Rhin smiled into. “She has yet to tell me and I will honor her silence.”
The room erupted with the indignant questions and accusations. Rhin was steady in the midst of the turmoil, letting it wash over him with long practiced ease.
“What do you mean you declared your intentions but have not learned her name? Are you an imbecile?” From Mother.
“What if she’s nothing but a pretender and a gold-hungry peasant? We’ve worked too hard to keep our name honorable!” That from his father.
“You know nothing about her because no one does, and you’re buying right into a trap.”
“And what about all the perfectly lovely matches offered by our friends, hm?”
That seemed to be the queue their guests were waiting for, because they joined the noise as well.
“I’ve got seven for you to pick from-!”
“Oh please Dascus, only two of them are actually suitable and you know it. Lord Rhindov I understand the appeal, but surely someone of assured higher breeding would be more in line with the requirements needed to uphold the House? The Keirn’s have long been allied with Cavish.”
“Now I know the temptation to explore all your options, but be careful you are not throwing away pearls before swine,” The dulcet Trinsha.
“Don’t be sour. It’s his first time declaring. After so long playing the game he might not have it in him.” Monrae said, grinning right at him as she said it. “Besides, Rhindov has shown a sharp mind. I bet he knows more than he’s letting on.”
Lavane was the only one who didn’t immediately add to the outburst, but instead waited for a quiet moment to interject. “Did you finally find someone that could beat you at your own game then?”
Rhin licked his lips and took another sip of wine. The words were teasing from Lavane, but something about the lord made his neck itch. The way the amusement boarded on annoyance. . or was he just touchy and reading into things?
“It’s nothing so nefarious as all that, goodness. Look, if you’d like her to ignore my title and the wealth that comes with it, strip my title from me and appoint a new heir. You’re most likely right in that she’d rescind her agreement, but so would anyone else you presented to me in the last five years.” He paused for effect, and no-one corrected his assumption. “Right then. The reason why I picked Darling is simple. She’s managed to elude all attempts to unmask her since she showed up. Everyone here has tried and failed, not to mention the rest of Society. If she has the wit and tenacity to do that, then she has enough to lead the House well. I need a partner to run things, and an equal to keep things interesting. Darling fits the bill better than the rest, plain and simple…” It was perilously close to rude, and the danger of being called out and cut free made the gamble better.
Harsh seconds of silence marred only by the pop of wood in the hearth. Monrae broke first and sighed. “See, I told you there was more to it than you thought Trisha. And you’ve got to admit the boy makes sense.”
His mother refused to back down. “The chit can play a game, and so you decide to risk everything on the chance she’s not a charlatan? She could leave us without a tin cup to our name but as long as my son is entertained, then it’s fine? And are you honestly claiming that some unknown girl who lives in the countryside the rest of the year is a mental match for your educated peers?
Rhin grit his teeth. “Yes, I do. And to assume she is uneducated when you know nothing about her is absurd.”
“So is pretending she might be just because you fancy a tumble!"
“I’ve first hand experience with her wit, more than you do.”
“I know what experiences you indulge in, and they have nothing to do with one's' wit. Anything she has can be found in the nearest brothel. You’ll call off this sham and pick a match from our friends' families.”
“I will do no such thing. I’ve made my decision-”
“And I reject and refuse it!”
“Then write me off and be done with the headache!” Rhindov snapped. “With all due respect to you and our guests, I am done. This is my path to take, and I will do it with the Cavish name, or without it.” He drained the wine and set the cup aside.
“Thank you for the meal and the company, it was as delightful as always,” he said dryly as he turned and left. He’d done what he’d wanted to do. He’d either go on with his life like he always had, or his mother would make good on her threats and finally cut him off. The idea used to scare him. Now it just seemed like a broken promise.
His carriage was waiting for him, and once he was settled the driver whipped the horses into motion. Groaning, he leaned his head back, then pressed a hand over his eyes. He could never keep his temper with his mother these days. Even when he tried it just backfired. It wasn’t worth trying to keep the peace anymore either. The only way to do that was to give her everything she wanted. His father could do that, but not him.
But it was done. And he should stop bothering himself over it. It was much more entertaining to think about his lordling instead. His mother was right though, when it came to his taste in experiencing another person. That’s what made this scheme all the better. He was getting sweets in both hands, with none the wiser. All the freedom from bothersome marriage inquiries, and none of the complications from actually going through with it. The actual results from the plan were a bit skewed, he’d admit… But Darling, and the truth of “her” were too intoxicating to back out now.
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