Carmell raised an eyebrow, finding the idea amusing. Athrym was young and pliable. She seemed to find comfort in others. The gioran didn't need friends, particularly of the male species.



The blonde stared at the fire, crossing her arms across herself, face almost bored. Inside, she relished the news. So, she'd gotten through to the boy. Hopefully, it had made him think.



Carmell turned slowly, searching the boy's face for some sign of a joke. A small wrinkle appeared between her brows as they drew together slightly in contemplation. Angus was a lot smarter than she'd given him original credit for. Narrowing her eyes, she watched him, looking for some sign of falseness or ulterior motive.



Watching him a moment longer, the woman glided forward, seating herself on one of the white couches, crossing her legs and draping one arm on the arm of the couch. She looked relaxed, almost languid, but still paying intense attention to every detail of the brown haired youth.

"The rain is so miserable here. Even the snow is miserable. Your welcome to sit. Do you drink tea, Mister Worthing?" The woman asked in a quiet voice, indicating the still steaming pot on the small table between the couches. From seemingly nowhere, the young girl that had held the umbrella for Athrym appeared with a second cup, before disappearing again.

"Indeed I do." Angus said, seating himself comfortably, crossing his legs as Lady Bruthgrave had.

He'd read somewhere that if you kept your body language similar to those around you, they felt more calm. He wasn't sure it was true but there was no harm in trying it. He didn't pour the tea as that was not the guests' job.

"It has been rather miserable of late, I must confess that I would prefer to travel away from Vienda during the rains. Sadly, I have no choice but to say." Angus often found Anaxis stiffling and it was difficult to hide this belief. "Brunnhold is such a prickly environment at times, is Vienda any different? I have yet to truly experience it as an adult. Far more tea shops than I recalled from my younger years."

Angus pondered how he could draw this into conversation that was more pertinent to the situation he found himself in. He did want to know more about Carmell personally but he couldn't just go out and ask. He hoped she'd trust him enough to ask him about Athrym and Nauleth, that was really why he'd come. He was sure he'd like an external sounding board were he in her place.

Carmell moved forward to pour tea for the seated boy and herself, like a well trained chrove, polite and stiff backed, but a hint of fire simmering underneath.



Putting down the teapot, the pale woman raised an eyebrow, looking over at him.

"It is full of sheep and judges. One must follow the crowd if they are to survive. Marry, prosper, breed. It's a contest to see who earns more, who can claim more power. Appearances are everything here." Lifting the lid off the sugar jar, she inclined her head to indicate he serve his own. Putting two lumps in her own, she stirred it gently with a small silver spoon, before sitting back with the cup.

"Tell me, Mister Worthing, what do you think about Nauleth and Athrym? As their friend, surely you have an opinion on their...relationship?"

Angus took two lumps as well, he liked his tea to be sweet.

"Well, they may convince me to marry in time but breeding will be a tad over-ambitious..." Angus said, laughing at the personal joke.



Angus took a sip of his tea, taking a moment to consider just how to word his response. He decided to be blunt. Lady bruthgrave did not seem to be the kind of woman who valued the more layered varieties of conversation, especially in an area where she wanted all meaning to be completely unobscured.

"I suppose I do." Angus said, having not thought too hard on it until recently. "I think they're moving quickly, not many students desire to marry before graduation or even shortly after, it will probably make a stir. They're young and in love, that's enough to encourage gossip in Brunnhold."

He didn't see any point in lying to her, she'd know it instantly.

"They've been seeing each other for a while, they're not in the honeymoon period, I actually don't think they even had one. I seem to recall Nauleth finally made Athrym's aquaintance by duelling her. He seems to have encouraged her to show some restraint socially and in turn she encourages him to be softer, nicer. This is lovely tea by the way." Angus took another sip. "He keeps duelling people that say nasty things about her. I won't insult you by lying to you, Athrym has a reputation on campus, spread by the usual malicious gossips. I don't believe for a moment that it is true, though if it were I would hardly consider it a mark against her. Nauleth and Athrym are two of the most accomplished duelists on campus and academically they excel. They are equals in their partnership."

Angus wondered if there was a way to continue without seeming crude.

"They are also the two most prickly people Vita has ever seen. I do not mean to insult your progeny, Lady Bruthgrave... but you've surely noticed. Nauleth is a dear friend but he's a bit of a, how to say it, he has scared people on occasion and on purpose. Athrym is not dissimilar to him in that regard. Nauleth would never tell me what happened but from what I can gather, they both have difficult pasts that they struggle with. Since they have been in each-other's company, they have moved forward more smoothly than I ever saw them do on their own."

Angus raised his hands and meshed his fingers together, into a spikey ball.

"All that prickliness seems to... mesh." He said, really it was that simple. "I think they're inherently suited to each other. Once they decide on a course of action it's basically impossible to stop their gestalt. They make each-other happy. I think everything else pales compared to that."

He decided not to mention that if they were thwarted, they'd probably just marry anyway. Nauleth was never particularly good with criticism.

Carmell sipped her tea in silence as the boy spoke, amazed at the depth he seemed to know her daughter and fiance-in-waiting. Moving to place her cup on its saucer, she spoke almost distractedly.

"Imported, the tea. I won't drink the foul soup they offer in Vienda. Only decent tea comes from the mugrobi plantations. This one is the Emperor Black, said to be Un Fera's own blend." It was almost like she was reading from a label. Leaning back, she pulled her shawl closer, crossing her arms in a relaxed way.

"I know about the rumors. Athrym spoke with me herself yesterday. I feel a great amount of responsibility for her past. Perhaps if I had been less focused on my despair and more on my daughter, certain things could have been prevented." Raising an eyebrow, she turned her head towards the boy, finally giving him her complete attention.

"It surprises me, your neutral stance on these gossips and rumors. When I was at Brunnhold, everyone seemed to gossip. It was what we did to pass the time between classes. Surely your own girlfriends have enticed you into school ground banter. It was always the girls that started it in my day." Making a light scoff, she shook her head.

"Well, thats not entirely true. A lot of the boys could really stir up the pot as well. Nothing like a good set of ego boosting lies to bank the fires."

Angus shrugged his shoulders loosely, letting himself relax a little into a more usual state of being. He hooked his fingers around a his knees, after placing his cup down upon its saucer.

"Some gossip is harmless, some of it isn't. I've been the inspiration for some of it myself." Well, after the thing with the captain of the boys' rowing team, who wouldn't talk a little? "I suppose it gives chattier people something to do during the day. I wouldn't say girls were necessarily worse, some of the things I've heard in the boys' locker rooms would shock you. From otherwise perfectly charming boys, too. I can't say that a girl has ever tried to lead me down the dark path of gossip mongering, although that may be because I've never courted one. Your gender is lovely, I just can't imagine marrying one."

Angus released a slightly involuntary shudder at the horribleness of that thought. He liked women, really. He thought they were pretty and obviously as capable as the sex that complemented theirs. It was just that the thought of touching a pair of breasts filled him with a deep, abiding sense of wrongness. He'd tried it once. He didn't know who'd been more surprised, him or her. He'd just wondered why he wasn't enjoying kissing her and decided to try something he'd heard older boys talk about.

It had been horrible.

"If you ever speak to Naul, I'm sure he'll tell you that I never spread gossip to boost my ego. My ego is perfectly healthy without it." This was said with a touch of self-deprication but only a touch. Angus was comfortable with himself.

Carmell's pink lips twitched slightly, a small lift on one side, almost a half smile. Something in her eyes changed, they were less hard.



The white haired woman did smile then, a small, polite and very unused gesture. Shifting her seating on the couch, Carmell turned to face him a little better, more relaxed than before. Genuine.

"Your a very confident young man, Mister Worthing, which is rather surprising. I've known a few young men in my time who would never desire the company of a woman, and they were timid things, consumed in books and study." Her smile turned a little distant, and she glanced at the tea.

"I've known a few women who would never desire the company of a man either. Beautiful girls, smart and funny..." Looking back at Angus, she raised an eyebrow. Silent for a long while, she seemed to make a decision.

"Back in Gior, I knew a girl. She was like a ray of sunshine through the rain. I met her in the winter, during our youth. We would throw snowballs between each other and tell tales in the evenings. Winter was our time." Leaning forward, she took up her tea.

"I was happy." Sipping on the tea, she seemed to be lost in her memories, staring out over the steaming cup.

"Oh, you could never accuse me of being timid." Angus said, sounding merry, relieved that she seemed to like him. He liked to be liked.



Angus' smile fell for a moment. Carmell's voice had changed, her posture and her eyes were far away. He looked at his own cup for a moment, embarassed to have brought up what was clearly such a tender memory. She'd married Margol and he was a bastard, why him and not her? What had happened?

"Do you... If it's not too bold," Angus' voice now sounded tentative, "what happened to her?"

Angus wasn't ready to marry, he was too young in his own estimation. Carmell had clearly married younger than most galdori did and it didn't look like a love match. Angus couldn't imagine being with someone and not wanting them or even worse, to want someone else. It sounded like a nightmarish existence. He wouldn't have been able to live with it, yet Carmell clearly had.

Carmell blew on the tea, drinking quietly. It seemed like she wasn't going to say anything at all, when quite suddenly, she spoke.

"I was sent to Brunnhold when I turned ten, as each child is, and found worthy. It was a hard time, being away from her, but each holiday I would come home and we would spend every minute together, our friendship turning into something...more. After my final year at Brunnhold, I made my way home, with all intentions of marrying her. My family though, had other ideas. The Bruthgrave man, my brother's friend, came for a visit during my first year home. They had discussed business details. A great partnership was on the horizon, but to seal the deal, to make sure things were legally liable and fair, the Mathen family had to join with the Bruthgraves." Sipping her tea, she glanced at Angus.

"I am an only child, Mister Worthing, and therefore, the only one for the job. My mother and father agreed to the pairing, and my grandmother chose to come down to Vienda with me, to assist in the wedding and keep me company. My lady-friend tried to take me away, elope as it was, but we were discovered, and grandmother took me away that very day." Carmell leaned forward, placing her cup back on the saucer, quiet again.

Angus placed his cup down, not having realised that he had come to lean forward almost out of his seat, as Carmell had been talking. His still boyish face had fallen, now looking sad and young. It was the most awful thing he had ever heard, his childhood had been devoid of injustice, he had never had to suffer to make ends meet. He had never had someone he had truly loved taken away from him. He'd been hurt before but it wasn't the same. He let their conversation lapse into silence. He rubbed at his eyes with the butt of his hand, a childish gesture.

"That's so... Why did...?" It was so difficult for him to get his head around, he did not have the experience to understand. "That's not fair!"

He wondered why she hadn't fought it harder, set fire to the church, said no to the Everus at the wedding. He would have sooner died, or so he told himself in his youthful sense of invincibility. He'd never felt the press of family disapproval, never really had to worry about keeping the family line, since he had an older brother. He flitted around the press of his society, dodging responsibility by being cute and likable and ultimately unimportant.

"Could you find her, now?" Angus asked, aware that he was overstepping his bounds but too tied to the cruelty of it to step away. "Do you have to stay? You did everything they asked, it's not..."

Angus' hands drew into fists and he made a sound of frustration. It wasn't fair and he had managed to reach near adulthood without truly internalising the fact that life rarely was.

The gioran gave the boy an earnest look. So mature for his age, yet so protected from the woes of society. Smoothing the golden material on her knee, she spoke with a gentleness he'd yet to have heard.

"It was a good move for my family, and the Bruthgraves. The girl I knew, her family weren't well to do. If I had married her, what would my family stand to gain?" Their was a sort of mocking tone to her gentle voice, as though she'd convinced herself of this after years of fighting. A sort of malicious smile spread across her features.

"Don't believe I didn't fight though. Margol tried to beat me into submission, it hurt, but it was pathetic. The man has to be the most magic deprived person I know. I cast against him as best I could, but without the echo of the mountain, my magic is first form at best. I refused to bed him, for years. I might have been forced into this marriage, but there was no need for an heir to the fortune. It was my protest. However, my brother and my husband conspired against me, convinced the empire needed a strapping male to take over. I blacked out one evening after supper, and a few weeks later, I found myself pregnant. At first, I was disgusted, but alas, my accursed heart fell for the unborn child. I feared for its safety from Margol's fists. So I submitted to him." Pausing, she glanced at the doorway, then back to Angus.

"When Athrym was born, Margol was devastated it was a girl. I began to make preparations to pack her up and take her to Gior with me, away from his violence. I almost succeeded, but he found me out, and he threatened to kill my baby if I ever tried to leave." The woman's face seemed flat and her voice subdued, almost in contrast to the emotional value of the story. Reaching out, she rested a hand on Angus' knee.

"Sometimes we have to make sacrifices to protect those we care about. Whether its a daughter, or a lover. The world is an awful place, Mister Worthing." She smiled slightly at the boy.

Angus' face gained a quiet rictus of horror. He had never heard of such horrors. Women and men were equals in all things, particularly from the academic background he'd been raised in. To beat another being, one that you had been bonded with, ostensibly for life, was beyond the pale. Drugs, assault, it sounded like something from out of a terrible, dark fiction novel. It sounded like the sort of thing that didn't happen in real life.

Angus tried to say something but only managed a croak.

Naul had reluctantly left the library and stepped into the hall again. He soon found himself hovering in front of yet another door, only a bit more nervous than before. This wasn't going to be so bad. This wasn't going to be as terrifying as it felt it could be. This was going to be just fine.

Repeating these things over and over in the back of his mind, the dark-eyed boy fussed with his jacket—gods, who invented those things, anyway?—and knocked on the door. He swallowed hard and spoke up carefully,

"It's Nauleth Siordanti, Lady Bruthgrave."

Carmell's slight smile melted like snow in one's palm, replaced with a well practiced, almost indifferent expression. Patting Angus' knee, she sat back, pulling her shawl around her.

"We must talk again before you leave for Brunnhold, Mister Worthing. It seems you and I have some common things to discuss. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I think it best I speak to Mister Siordanti alone." Lifting her chin slightly, she called out.

"Enter, Mister Siordanti."

Angus nodded, still looking pale and fretful. He stood and bowed more deeply than he ever had to anyone he had ever met.

"Yes, Lady Bruthgrave. Thank you for speaking with me." He bowed again, a smaller one this time, taking his leave and walking out towards the hall again.

He patted Nauleth's arm as he passed him but did not say anything. He did not feel confident about speaking and Naul would have seen that he was rattled beyond anything Naul had seen before.

He wanted to disappear. To hide in a corner and try to understand what he knew now.

Naul caught some of Angus' expression. What the clock had they been talking about? Was it about himself? Oh gods ... The boy felt the lump in his stomach threaten to sink through his entrails and into his knees. He blinked and watched the taller boy leave, unable to comprehend exactly what had transpired. Reluctantly, he closed the door behind him and paused to wordlessly gather his composure, sifting through his suddenly panicked thoughts to assemble what courage he could find. If he could endure Freja, then surely, most surely, he could endure Carmell.

The dark-eyed boy was genuine. He didn't really have anything to fear. Right?

He stood awkwardly a few steps away from the door and hovered, hands finding his pockets after he managed a much more nervous but certainly not informal bow to the strikingly pale woman who knew terribly much about him. Naul had no idea what to say, afraid his fate had already been sealed if Angus' expression had even the remotest relation to himself or his reasons for being here in the first place.

He blinked, speaking with only the slightest hint of anxious waver to the nasal undertones of his voice, "You requested my presence, Lady Bruthgrave?"

Oooh. Brilliant.

Naul swallowed and offered something like a lopsided, half-confident smile.

You are so clocking dead.

Carmell nodded, gesturing to the couch opposite her.

"Yes I believe I did. Why don't you come and take a seat, Mister Siordanti, and stop hovering in my doorway. Tea?" Raising a pale eyebrow, the woman leaned back into the white couch, resting her arm on the arm of the couch. It felt decidedly icy in the room, despite the fire burning merrily in the room. From almost nowhere, a young human girl flitted into the room, removing Angus' cup and replacing it with a clean one for Nauleth, before flitting off again.

Naul kept his mouth shut and sat without saying anything, folding his hands in his lap with his fingers laced together. It was enough for him to contain his field, let alone his nervous hands. He kept himself from looking at the blur of the servant as she exchanged cups. He didn't exactly want tea. He wasn't sure he would really enjoy drinking it, given his current anxious state. He also didn't want to say no.

The dark-eyed boy sighed and allowed his expression to settle into something neutral, deciding to be honest, "As much as I'd like to say yes to be polite, I'm very confident I'm not capable of drinking any tea at the moment. Please forgive my refusal of your kind offer ... it seems as though I'm more than a little full of nerves at the moment."

Nauleth barely smirked, right side of his face more than the other.

Carmell didn't smile in return, looking directly at Naul across the table. They sat together in a sudden heavy silence, every second that passed feeling like a minute. Finally, Carmell spoke.

"Well, well. Nauleth Siordanti. Your taller than I thought you'd be. Take after your mother by the looks of things, same hair." Her voice was quiet, almost soft, but it rang with a sort of formal undertone.

"I take it you've discussed the...formal arrangements with My Lord then? Must be quite a haul for your name sake, reaping the benefits of Mathen-Bruthgrave Stone, not to mention the diamond vein. I'm sure My Lord pointed out the things diamonds can help you achieve." It was almost mocking, the way she spoke, but her face remained composed and uninvolved, as though she was discussing the weather.

Naul tried not to groan, but he was unable to keep from rolling his eyes. Sinking a bit into his chair, the dark-eyed boy's face fell into disdain, "Considering you seem to know so much about me, it surprises me that you've yet to observe that I have very little interest in such things as business. If I wanted to achieve material things alone, I would not spend so much time studying magic. Forgive my rudeness, but if there is anything for myself to achieve from the illusion of generosity at the bequest of that man who's unfortunately your husband, it's an opportunity to care for your daughter in a way she deserves. Much to the disappointment of my own family, I've never been able to bring myself to be overly concerned with financial gain and status."

He coughed, fully aware of what he was saying but unable to really contain himself.

"I don't know if anything formal was truly discussed; I'm pretty sure he didn't hear half of what I said. Would the Lord Bruthgrave care if he had?" Naul arched his right eyebrow at this, "I had assumed the real business, Lady Carmell, was with you and that it had nothing to do with stone or diamonds. Was I wrong?"

Carmell's eyebrow lilted slightly, and her pale lips turned slightly at the corners. Reaching forward, she picked up her tea and sipped it.

"Certainly not one for niceties, are you Mister Siordanti. Your father must be so dissapointed your not thinking of the family name." Pausing for a while, she drank her tea in silence.

"Athrym seems to be rather fond of you, judging from what she told me. I would go so far as infatuated. Tell me, Mister Siordanti, what did you do to get to her? Impressive magic? A few sweet nothings? Hollow promises?"

Naul chuckled.

"My father and I have reached an ... understanding. I'm not an only child, after all." Sure, it had been a crushing blow to be cut out of things, almost entirely based on his behavior, but things had most certainly changed. Since their conversation the night of the Circus, the boy could see that there was hope of a more level sort of reconciliation between himself and Hadrian, so long as they both came to terms with their differences.

Naul exhaled through his nose and gathered himself for a reply. He was hardly the type for sweet anything in some ways and making a promise at all was a gift not to be taken for granted. He managed to keep a straight face, but his tone was almost warm, "What did I do? I set fire to a lunch table, challenged her to a duel, lost, and nearly got at least one of a small group of fellow students possessed by a ghost in the Crypts. And that was all in one day. We've shared classes on and off since fourth form. We've studied together. We've ... dealt with some things with each other."

The boy was not ashamed of their fiery beginnings, considering how things had turned out so far.

"Honestly, I don't know what I did. I'm just privileged enough to be happy that so far, my efforts have been rewarded. Underneath all that cold and hurt is a lovely young woman no one seems to have wanted to bother to look for. Unconventional though I may be, something has ... worked."

Carmell sipped her tea as he spoke, leaning forward again to place it on the table. Standing quite suddenly, the white blonde woman walked over to the fireplace, staring into the flames, holding her black shawl tight around herself.

"You sound like quite the trouble maker Mister Siordanti, very...unconventional. A lot of girls tend to fall for the bad seed, its thrilling and enchanting. Athrym has issues in her past that might lead her to someone like you. I don't know if that's necessarily a good thing." Folding her arms, she turned her back to the fire, scrutinizing the dark eyed boy, eyes lingering on the white forelock.

"I know my daughter a lot better than you think, so don't take to assuming your the caring Seventen in pressed uniform riding in on his mighty black chrove to save her. No one cares more about her than me, do not forget that." It sounded like a strange threat, in the womans calm quiet voice. There was something in her face though, a change, a waver. Pausing for a moment, she moved closer to Naul and perched on the arm of his couch.

"I don't trust you yet, Mister Siordanti, but Athrym does. I will allow this wedding, but under some conditions. Firstly, Athrym must follow gioran tradition for her wedding day. That will mean you will not see her from the night before the wedding, till the ceremony. She will also wear our family dress. Secondly, I do not want you to sign anything my husband or brother give you. Everything my daughter brings to this marriage belongs to her. And everything you bring belongs to you. I won't see her loose everything if things turn sour between you and her. It will still marry our families, but Athrym will be the partner, the co-president of the company. Equals." Leaning closer, the woman wrapped her field around the boy, like grasping the front of his shirt. Nauleth would find it was weaker than his own, or Athryms, but there was something under the surface. It was as though she had great strength in her field, but it was laying dormant. Pale blue eyes looking into his own, Carmell spoke quietly.

"Thirdly, if you hurt or deceive my daughter, in anyway, I will hunt you down, chase you into the mountains, and I will kill you."

That did it. Nauleth shifted uncomfortably in their closeness, his own field tightening and his dark eyes drifting away to the floor. Any real expression faded, color draining from his face as his usual bravado crumbled. He didn't look up, voice wavering quietly,

"Look, I'm no Seventen. If I have a chrove, it's the large, unruly beast of angry bad decisions called my past. I'm unconventional, I struggle with being patient and kind, but I am most certainly not a bad seed." The boy paused and shifted his gaze back to the pale woman, jaw clenching, "Do you know everything? Did she tell you? She told me first, you know, and don't even think that hasn't affected me."

For emphasis, he glanced down at Carmell's arms under her shawl, "I don't need your trust. I've seen the way Athrym has decided to deal with things, and it's about time someone bothered to care enough to do something about it. You've had eight years. Eight. That's a sight more than the handful of months I've had to make my decision in the first place." Naul's tone had firmed and his expression had hardened, "I can't guarantee I won't hurt her ever. It would be foolish to make that promise. Feelings complicate things, and being closer only gives me more opportunity to do so."

He sighed, "But, how I feel is no ploy for social mobility, no game of family politics. I never expected her to think of me the way she does, and I certainly never expected to love her—or anyone, really—for it in return."

The dark-eyed boy resisted the urge to lean away from the pale woman, close as they were made looking at her strange. He studied her face anyway, voice quieter than before, "I appreciate your permission. I've already come to the conclusion that in a wedding, it's my job to be an accessory until I have important things to say. Such events are very much for the bride, as far as I can tell. I've no objections to honoring whatever traditions please her, or yourself." Truth be told, Naul could care less about any of the formalities so much as the conclusion at the end of the event was the same, "And, again, I honestly don't want any more connections with Margol than I am forced to take by the duty of marriage in the first place. Athrym is very much an equal in my mind—"

He stopped himself from commenting on whatever arrangement Carmell found herself in. He didn't know and wasn't going to pry. By her protectiveness, nothing here had been her choice.

"I can assure you of that, at least."