One older and one younger, yet neither fit to rule. It was a disappointing day when King Thomes realized this and a drearier day when he came to the conclusion that it could not be helped: he would have to wed and declare that very night that she be queen regent when he died and he most certainly would soon enough. He hadn’t a hair on his head, anymore, that flashed a ruddy brown. Instead, it glittered silver and displayed gray. He clearly had a limit of choices. Either it was a person who would destroy his people, one who only wanted his property or a woman who would not look at such an elderly man, not that he would marry a girl more than a decade his junior.

So, he had to purpose a deal, one for a strong mother near his age and her formidable daughter, whom would be young enough to attract worthy suitors. At least one needed to know how to spot and deal with the power-hungry and devious men that would move to woo this daughter as well, but, just in case, he did have a man for that: the King’s Assassin. “Bring him in,” he waved in dismissal as he turned toward his chair worriedly. If trustworthiness was what he needed, then he did not know why he felt compelled to bring him into this. His gut gave him his only assurance.

This gentleman, though hardly deserving of that title, had no blood relation to him either, even distantly. Where he came from was anyone’s guess and there were plenty. It might be assumed that he came from the lowest scoundrels of the gypsies or itinerants and that was certainly the most reasonable of the tales. However, perhaps not. While none lived whenever this assassin assigned himself to their deaths, he sometimes allowed witnesses, supposedly. King Thomes believed it was simply people wanting to be a part of the legend, falsely spread or not. Admittedly, there were instances where Thomes questioned his faith in that, being around the other enough.

He entered as usual in a way meant not to draw attention, cool and slippery as a draft leaking into a large room. The king’s assassin, otherwise known as Gustav Klimts, was a specialist in such actions. If he wanted a person to know he was there, all he had to do was lock his gaze on them, hypnotic like his other self. He was a man at times when most saw him and a something else at others when they didn’t.

His hair was a greyish olive green with a black base to compliment the pale caramel tone of his skin. His eyes were olive as well with a darker shade around the edges and a golden ring mostly hidden by his pupil, more feline than serpentine, body all muscle but not overly so.

His face is smooth in the transfer of its features, but hardly feminine. It was classical, almost noble but much too chilly for that. The nose was completely straight and flowed up to high-arched brows, eyes slanted to fit proportionally. His cheekbones and chin were strong, and had not his bones been formed as widely as they were he might have looked long of face. His lips were sinuous and equal in fullness, though that wasn’t quite a feat seeing as many could have so much more to brag about when it came to that aspect of him. His voice however was a like the breath of a cave, deep but hollow, smooth but cold.

“Yes, my king?” He offered a bow just as slick as his entrance, like no bones hindered his movements. King Thomes’s stomach curled like he had been poisoned, but surprisingly the effects no longer had the stunning response. Immunity to a presence was never an ability he thought possible. He smiled, relaxing and uncurling his fist, about-facing to see Gustav. The tilt of his lips immediately indicated his thoughts, something outside of his chosen profession or at least not common to it. It never meant well and even Gustav had reservations.

The other straightened back up and had on a flat expression, fitting the face. It was the closest to exasperation that he could get to. A fortunate familiarity kept the two on good terms, despite occasionally crossing the line they had place. Of course, it was still a routine and meant such had been moved slightly in the king’s favor. A disturbing thought for Gustav, but, no matter the power of this man, he would ultimately decide where it laid. “What do you ask of me?”

“I need you to perform a search for me,” Thomes beamed softly, making his assassin twist into a tighter coil of nervous energy. It sounded too simple for the expression on this king’s face and that made Gustav draw up all the more. It had to be done. If Gustav knew why, he would never agree. “I want you to find a marriageable woman ten years younger or older than myself with a daughter.” He nearly burst into laughter as his killer’s neck swung back in shock.

The other shook his head, leaning a shoulder to the right as he walked and faced away. “How exactly does this require my expertise? Bring out your consensus and locate them. I’ll have nothing to do with recruiting a sob-story for you to correct or bless and I will be damned if this is assist one of those loathsome boys into tying the knot.” He wondered if the elderly mother would be used a reason to encourage such a union. “I am no matchmaker; I am a lifetaker. Get one a lawyer or wedding planner.”

Thomes sucked in a breath when Gustav mentioned marriage but quickly snorted it out his nose in relief, eyes glittering and squint as he continued to grin. He lowered and waved his head, “No, no, this is a special quest that only you can complete for me. I want you to train the daughter in the ways of dealing with the lowest lifeforms in mine and your line of business.” Gustav’s head swung around with one eyebrow tugged up. “It would better serve to have a mediator between us, to better amalgamate in how to interact with neighbors, allies and enemies.”

“You feel that finding someone off the street with a sickly mother would serve that purpose better than one of your own advisors?” Gustav inquired doubtfully, bringing his front back to his king. He thought about it for a moment with a dazed look to his eyes. “In this way she will be learning everything fresh and have nothing in her cup to make her reconsider anything, save for the knowledge we give her. You are forgetting that her previous life will affect, regardless of her standing.”

“That is easy to overcome for someone who does worse than killing,” the king pointed out, making Gustav narrow his eyes. No one knew of what procedures he used on victims before their demise. If the king was not pleased in his work, then he could find someone else or point out this flaw. The other did not elaborate on that, but went on, “I want it to be a young girl with an honest heart, potentially capable of keen intelligence and the confidence to stand up to both of us. Do you think you can do that?”

“That is a difficult order, since you know I would put the fear of God in her otherwise.”

“See that you don’t.”

(((It can start off anywhere you like. I just thought that this would be great in drawing the story out, because I have played after the wedding in another RP, but not before, so feels a little newer to me and I can plot for later parts.)))

The north was a rocky uneven part of the world with an abundance in trees and a depressing in need for farm land. Tayric, a small kingdom surrounded on three sides by the large imposing mounting range that cut across the north, was no different. There was only one way into Tayric that didn't involve crossing a river and that was the well worn path that cut through the mountains.In Winter the citizen were trapped in their own kingdom the journey to treacherous to make. In the Summer months the sun warmed the small valley kingdom and brought trade to it's people.

Spring hung in the air like a promise. Fragrances from the forest had drifted down into the near by village and the sounds of woodland creature awaking from their winter slumber was heard by those who ventured out into the woods.Instead of traveling through said woods though Rhoswen Vall, niece to the late Queen Elani of Tayric, was in the royal stables looking after her mare. Tria, had been a gift from her mother's younger sister to her only niece as a way of condolence. A way for a young girl to distract herself from the lose of her father. She was far to old now to be ridden as often so she would spend her time between court appearances and visits to the library taking care of the oldest friend she had.

The crunch of dry leaves and hay announced the presence of someone else in the stables.Large round hazel eyes turned away from the endless black ones of her horse to the sight of her mother standing in the entrance. "I thought I might find you here." Renora Vall was not as cold or cruel as one would believe upon looking at her. Thick silver gray hair, that had once been as dark and shiny as Rhoswen's own mahogany locks, was at all times up in a tight intricate bun.Her expression was calm though not the serene look that her younger sister wore so ofter but the look of someone who had control over themselves. She kept her back striaght and up right with out showing any signs that her aging body was having a hard time handling the strain.Her daughter knew that the calm, that strength came from watching her younger sister get married off to a kingdom far away,from the lost of babies that never made it past birth, to losing a husband so soon after she had finally carried their first child to term, to holding the same younger sister's hand as the winter of her new home stole the life right from her lungs. After fifty three years of life she had been through her tragedies.

To Rhoswen her mother was a woman to be admired for her strength and she had spent her life trying to incorporate that same strength into herself. When life had handed her hardship she took a page out of her mothers book and held her head high and fought back the tears with all the strength in her body. "Lunch will be served soon so I thought it would be foolish to venture into the library and lose track of time."

Her daughter, dispirit being raised as if she was a princess, had not grown up as one of those twittering girls in her brother-in-laws court who were so eagerly trying to take her dear sisters place. Her little Rhoswen had grown up with her father's head on her shoulders. Truly she was a merchant lord's daughter. It was the right time for the conversation she had been planing all night.She should have already agreed to several of the offers made for her daughters hand, Rhoswen was nearing her twenty ninth summer and the closest she had come to marriage had ended in tragedy.All talk of the subject had been dropped, since not that she was fond of the idea of letting go of her daughter yet, but she was old and would not be there for her daughter forever she would not leave her alone.


A beautiful girl with wavy dark brown hair that framed an unblemished fair oval face. She had her grandmothers nose all small and delicate looking pointing down into a set of full lips. In her heels she was of average size but a nice size for her height and age. Apart from her looks her daughter had her brains. Renora would not have stood for having a stupid daughter. Their was no mother quiet as proud of the child they had single handily produced then her. "Come we will walk together to lunch."

Setting the brush she had been using to comb through Tria coat back into the satchel that hung on the door to her stable the daughter dutiful fallowed her mother out into the spring sunlight. The chill of winter still hung in the air whispered along exposed skin when a stray when blew but other then those rare moment the walk along the courtyard was pleasant. Mother and child spent much time in each others company when not attaining to matters of court duties or lessons respectfully.

"It will be time for you to marry soon." The subject that she found to be tender and sore were always the ones that were best approached head first. Rhoswen would need to marry eventually.

"It is far past time for me to marry I'm sure. Has someone come to call?" Marriage was not something she was looking forward to nor was she dreading it.Once when she was younger still a girl that dreamed of going off and fighting mythical creatures like dragons she had been excited at the thought of marriage. Then it it would have been more then an arrangement set up by her mother. The land of and around Tayric was cruel to those who lived there sometimes and Autumn held just as much danger as the cold of Winter. "You have grieved and I have clung on to you for to long."

Resting a thin wrinkled hand on the dark green fabric clad shoulder of her daughter Renora stopped just short of the turn that would lead them back into the castle. Bright hazel eyes stared questionably into the older set of matching eyes. Her mother had never put a limit on her grief nor had she spoken to her of marriage for some years.

"Mother why bring up this subject now?"

(((Rain finally subsided enough for me to get here and read ten minutes before bed. -_- I am going to love moving somewhere where I do not have to drive three hours round-trip to work.

I will probably have him reflect on who he has searched for and spy on your girl, but give me tomorrow. I am exhausted, but thank you for the winter-summer cut-off. That helps to show time passing, so he's been searching a while. :) Anyways, night and I am off Sunday too.)))

(( In a year I'm moving to Portland so I'll be dealing with rain none stop there. Night and if you don't make it on on Saturday we have Sunday. No worries.))

“Because it may be that she will be married soon,” their guest spoke up, his answer like a wisp of wind through dead trees. Gustav stepped into view as clear as the daylight falling on him now. Although his coloring did not fit the warmth, he welcomed it with a pleasant shiver and roll of his shoulders, rolling his bag off to the ground. He was not one to hide away his things; he only carried to keep others from rifling through them. Taking so little, he had barely gotten through their dreadful winter before pinpointing a possibility. There was no such being as a kind winter for him, so, even in those rousing, glowing beams, he felt sluggish.

Adorned a travelling ambassador’s clothing, he was suited in dark, almost black, green attire to compliment his hair, though it gleamed fresher than his locks. The lapels were crisp and sharp, folds and trims clear and perfect. It was far different than the simple black he normally wore, if he did not simply paint himself. It worked far better for speaking with an elderly woman about an improbable and doubly too-good-to-be-true deal. Deciding and convincing her mother had been easier than finding the pair. The parameters well defined and having hardly any recognizable prospective candidates, he had lucked out with this cut-off corner of the world.

Plenty of time passed, while the snow trapped him in, for grapevines to slither into his ears and for him to observe the subject of those tales. Delightfully surprised and then befuddling shocked to see this daughter in person those months before, he assumed that he emphasized with the mother when offering the arrangement. The dear woman had been under his gaze as well, since it needed a couple, not only the girl. Her child’s innocent features from the roundness of her complexion to the Mother-Mary brown tendrils held a mixture that walked the fine line of a responsible adult and a naïve child to the eye. While she wouldn’t intimidate in foreword, he believed it would give her an edge in fooling her enemies and probably disturb them more than the fears he scared prey with. That is, if she took to this, but he had a back-up plan, if she should refuse.

Blackmailing, abducting and brainwashing were not foreign concepts to him. Her eventual killing of him did not concern him at all, so long as she found a devotion to the kingdom, artificial or not. Whether she accepted it into her heart on the basis of being grateful or programmed, or in her mind for her hidden mother’s welfare, he did not care. Although sweet-talking and appearing genuine for the sire to get inside, he had discreetly confirmed his identity, what he was capable of and thus what he was willing to perpetrate. He did offer some comfort. He would not defile her darling daughter.

(((I do not know what you must have per post, but I hope this is okay. I was going to reflect, but I do not know enough and did not get to ask, so could not add. Although I did like how it ended.)))

Confusion pinched Rhoswen's features at the appearance of the strange man. She knew everyone in her uncle's small court and could not recall ever seeing this gentleman. He dressed like an ambassador though it was far to early in the spring for anyone to have braved the trek through the mountains to reach their kingdom.The bewilderment behind how and how this strange man got to their small corner of the map would be uncovered later. His words were much more perplexing.The skirts of her darkly colored dress swirled around her legs as she stepped forward to rest a hand on her mothers arm. "Mother you are getting married?"

It was not how she wanted to talk to her daughter about marriage, perhaps over tea in her sitting room or while on a ride. " Not that I was aware of." Reaching over she patted the smoother hand resting on her arm before removing it. They would talk at length about this when they were alone. Renora turned to face Gustav her old body folding into a well practiced curtsy.Her head tilted down so that she didn't make eye contact with the ambassador standing before them.She had lived her whole life in one mans court or another and she knew the rules like her body knew how to breathe. "Please join us for lunch. We may discuss the details with my daughter." She would have to talk with her brother-in-law.It seemed he was trying to marry the wrong Vall woman off.She would also need to find her daughter a husband. She couldn't leave her daughter without someone to look after her.

Rhoswen bowed when her mother did hazel eye finally leaving the older woman to taking in the man standing next to them. He was dressed as an Ambassador but no mere Ambassador would have made it through the mountains in the winter and she had heard nothing of his arrival before the first snow had fall. His appearance here was a mystery, and he had come here to arrange a marriage between her mother and a royal from another kingdom. Tayric didn't have many mystery or that many royal visitors. Gustav, it was a strange name not one she had heard from anyone in Tayric or the surrounding kingdoms. How far had he traveled to reach them. His style of dress was crisp and matched that of any other man in the court. the colors of his

"Dear please lead the way to the dinning hall." Her mother's voice, a slight hint of a reprimand for openly staring at the guest in front of them, drew her attention back. Tiling her head down to her mother she kept her gaze off the guest as she moved to walked between the to to lead them down the shaded cobble stone walkway. Small torches lined the walls unlit waiting for the sun to sink lower in the sky before they were of use. The walkway was empty saved a few guards and servants moving about.Others already tucked away in dinning and sitting rooms enjoying their mid afternoon meal. The dinning room for member of the royal family, her aunt had insisted that they were family and their for part of the royal family, was away from the other dinning rooms. Had it not been for the man fallowing after her mother and her they would have enjoyed a quiet lunch together in a sitting room. Renora would not have had that with a guest.

A servant, a young man in his early teens, stood at the door to the dinning room awaiting to open the door for the royal family. The royal dinning room was lavishly furnished with a grand red wood table in the center of the room that sat twelve. The room was soaked in reds and purples with gold trim on the drapes and chairs. Large windows had been carved into the far wall so sunlight and candlelight danced around the room. Rhoswen stood next to her chair in the center of the table with her back to the windows the sunlight framing her and shadowing her face. Across from her Renora took her seat at the table using a delicate hand to indicate that their guest should take the seat to her left her. it was no ones seat, left open for guest of the family.

(((I had a brainfart. -_- )))

Gustav glanced down at it with a flick of his eyes and sat his bag against another chair, before he reached over and drew out the chair behind her as a courtesy, standing behind it and gesturing with his free hand. It gave him a moment to survey the room for any tricks or traps, including the offered chair and entrances, entryway or otherwise. It shocked him that she would not have the younger girl on her side of the table, as would be done during a negotiation. He appreciated having the wall versus the windows. It made things move easier not to object to seating, though he doubted that these ladies would try to do so. They were educated and sophisticated to the point of submission to their society as a whole.

He would have to change that in the daughter. He needed her experience in the courts of the higher class, true, as another tool, but not enough that it would overpower the instinctual requirements to be an assassin. That was often more difficult to break than from rudimentary habits. Compliance, trepidation and being uncreative would kill her. He needed her to be able to drive her carriage off the road without a moment’s hesitation without a care to the child in her way.

His hair was pulled back into a dainty, low ponytail to soften his features, though it still needed the right expressions. He proffered a gentle smile to be polite, but he did not quite execute it. The corners may have curled up, but it was like they had been tugged by strings and they weren’t from the heart. It did not reach his eyes for certain, a dichotomy of a limp attempt and firm incentives. He was trying and falling short. Thankfully, he would not have to keep up this charade much longer.

“Ladies first,” he invited, swinging around behind her to encourage, but really it cut off her escape, an unconscious move on his part. He used intimidation most times in that way, his height and mass an advantage on other men, though his expression, despite its desperate attempt to uphold a smile, would be far more menacing. Another maneuver came to life when he laid fingertips on her arm, if lightly, as further herding. The silent, confident language could be taken in many ways, so long as he remained tender to the touch. He could not afford insulting or using strong-arm tactics on women in a foreign country.

“I was joking of course earlier on the idea of a marriage, though she may indeed find that,” he spoke, perfecting the grin at last, although he could not pinpoint the change, only that he knew it was right. “It was only a suggestion. Many families do not take in adult daughters and I doubt she would want you left alone. I am actually here on business and have a proposition that would include the both of you.” Marriage for the girl would be near impossible as an assassin, but it would be adequate cover and background. As lovely as she was, he worried that his probable protégé would be stolen by the princes’ lusts.

No matter how he beat them with sticks or threatened torture, he doubted they would be able to contain themselves if caught up in the moment. Heaven forbid they impregnate her and make her useless to him. He would force-abort the child by feeding the girl a root, if he had to. The only satisfying point in that train of thought was that, if they tried to rape her, he would have trained her well enough to kill them and be lawful. The thought made his lips twist into a smirk, something natural and right to his face.

It took her a little extra effort to lower her body into the chair as gracefully as she once could but Renora still did it with all the dignity and grace she had. Across from her her daughter waited until she was fully seated before taking her own seat.Smoothing out her skirts she let her back rest against the back of her chair while still sitting up straight. Resting her hand in her lap she watched as her mother made herself comfortable in her seat. The idea of her mother remarrying was farfetched.

The man, who had as of yet to give them his name or where he hailed from, moved around her mother with a forced smile. Rhoswen had spent her life in the court she could tell a forced smile.It looked like he wasn't use to smiling at all. a thinkable size tingle of doubt formed in the pit of her stomach under her whale bone corset. What type of ambassador had face unfamiliar with smiling? Even the youngest of courtiers knew how to fake a smile and make it look convincing.

Rhoswen focused on his words and less on his fake smile, even as it formed in to something that was far more genuine though she would guess still fake. It wasn't her place to say anything with her mother being in the room. She was the elder and she would not speak out of turn. Renora's silent and contemplative face made it hard to remind herself that she had to wait for her mother to speak, or for Gustav to address her personally. He was right with his earlier statement her mother remarrying would leave her alone and that was something her mother would never allow. She would be married off before her mother was. Is that what the proposition was? If so she could name several ladies in court much younger then herself who were blood relatives to the current King of Tayric. Her uncle only by marriage. Her mother's response would have to wait as the door in the far corner opened with the click of the servants small heels on the hard floor as they brought out trays of food.

As the servants ranging from young to old laid the trays out in the center of the table another middle aged man placed plates in front of the Queen's to relatives and their guest. All with weary glances at the man sitting beside their late Queen's sister. It wasn't often that the two ate in the royal dinning hall and even rarer that they would have a guest.

When the food had been moved to their plates, cups had been filled, and the few servants that would stay to assist them were out of listening range Renora glanced at the man sitting next to her. " What is this propitiation mister,... I don't believe you have told us your name." Her tone was polite as always with a chastising under tone that had come with raising a daughter.



(( Sorry it's short I have to make a food run to McDonald's.))

((( :lol: You are sorry because it's short and I'm just trying to keep up in length! I did instant messaging RPs before this, and read and wrote one-liners frequently. I only write more than one or two paragraph, because it is not the norm or acceptable here. You won't hear any complaints by me on length, because you do it better.)))

“Gustav Klimts,” he answered and he seated himself, watching each person enter and leave, before he continued. “I hail from King Thomes’s land.” Most lands were named after an ancestor or feature and, yes, there was a feature associated: its fresh waters. Swētwed, however, was regularly updated by who ruled. In this case, it was Thomes Swētwed. The interesting thing about it was the diversity of its climate, which is what supplied its aqua vitae.

He glanced over the meal, happy to see that they would all be dining from the same tray. They would need a magician or psychic to poison him this way and he could smell the powers of those types miles away. However, the drink gave him a pause, but it was an easy matter to fix. He reached forward, as if to bring it closer, fanning his fingers around the edges and pinning his palm over the opening so there was no splash he dropped his stone into the liquid. It was an amethyst magicked to prevent poisoning and drunkenness, not that he would ever fool with the latter. His only concern with it now was to not drink so much as to expose the gem until the end of their meeting.

“King Thomes is searching for a new assassin.” Cutting to the chase did not make it appealing, but it make bad news brief and allow it to sink in as he went over benefits. Speaking of which, he went on, “I am his current.” He slid his eyes from the younger to the older as he picked up his cup and sipped. It was a welcomed change to the sludge that came in the taverns or boiled lake-water. A royal’s lifestyle spoiled him and it was a regretful thought, but at least something he could hide.

“I was sent to find someone to fit his requirements and I have heard many good things about your daughter,” he divulged simply, wondering if they were merely fables. True, he observed and spotted minute details that were useful to the job description, but he had yet to see something challenging, even for the average maid. Still, in his year of searching, she was the closest he had come, discounting girls wallowing in streets. Normally, they would be the first he would turn to for rumors, whispers and coursework. If he tied Rhoswen’s abilities to do the same with the nobility and amongst the peddlers, she would have more sources than he, as long as she as accepted. The only issue left was if her mother and she would be willing, and he did not see that as any trouble.

“He is willing to completely pay for all of yours and your daughter’s expenses, provide room and board, and assist in your pursuits.” A little false hope in marriage could not hurt him. “She would have a lifelong career.” The timing would vary, depending on long that life might be. “I would train her personally and remain at her side at all times. She would surely have nothing left to her alone before she could handle it; it would be years before that would arise.”

The word wrapped around her mind, it caused tiny little pin pricks of an icy feeling to dance up her spine, an assassin. He was sitting next to her mother drinking wine dressed as an ambassador. Her corset suddenly felt to tighter Rhoswen’s hands, tanner then that of most of the other ladies in court, balled into tiny fist in her lap. What were these requirements she seemed to fit.

She had never been aware of anything that she did that would make her fit to be an assassin. She read books of adventure and true a small part, a part that had grown steadily larger as the years passed, wished that she could go and see the world that her favorite authors wrote about. She was distant with the ladies from court and...oh who was she trying to fool in her own mind.Her cousins had tried to keep her from hearing the rumors but she knew what the common folk thought of her.

Death had touched those close to her too many times for people to not have notice.When she shed no tears at the passing of her aunt or her late betrothed the rumors grew from sympathetic whispered to darker speculation. Soon after Bale the rumors had turned the unfortunate situation of her lost siblings- the babies who never took their first breathe- as somehow her fault. She had held herself theatergoer in the face of tragedy, other ladies would have been weak and teary she had been strong.


Still did rumors qualify her to become an assassin. She had seen many close to her die but what in the rumors in common talk made Gustav think she would be able to take another human life. Hazel eyes took in her mother, why wasn't she saying anything. Sending this strange man on his way to find some far more competent woman to be his protege.

Renora stared down into her cup as she took in Gustav's words. He wanted to train her daughter to be a killer for a king of a far off nation. The king would pay for this to happen. It was no different then a marriage arrangement, some details were different of course but it was fundamentally the same. Rhoswen would be taken care of and with this way she would stay by her daughter till it came her time. It had been some time since anyone had showed an interest in marrying her dear girl for sometime. Her grieving period, even if no one but her could see it, had been longer then was social norm.

Renora knew how it felt to lose the man you loved long before you were ready to let him go. Rhoswen had not had to opportunity to marry her Bale, to watch the product of love grow. " Give me time to think on this offer kind sir." She kept her eyes off of her daughter, though she could feel Rhoswen's burning into her.

The knot in her stomach stole away her appetite and now she wished only to leave the room. To find herself lost in the selves of books of her uncle's library. She wouldn't leave her mother and Gustav to discuss her future. This was bigger then her simply being married off, she had always known that whether she wanted it or not she would marry and produce her husband with an heir. She would have happily sat on her favorite resting couch and read while her mother and future husband hashed out details of her dowry . She would not be tucked away if her life was going to change so drastically.

He bobbed his head once, closing his eyes, “Understandable; it would be a radical change not only for her life, but yours and anyone’s really. I have plenty of time before I have to return, so take what you desire.” Unrelenting though, he would be. “However, let’s enjoy the meal and forget about that for now. I would actually like to learn more about the two of you beforehand to make sure this is a good fit or what we can do to accommodate where needs be.” It also assisted in determining whether or not she was…worthy—he supposed that was the word—to be an assassin and what methods he would need to form her into one.

Knowing how to handle the mother would not be a bad plus either. He could not have outside influences ruining his good training. More history between them made it harder to sway under willing circumstances, but gave him more leverage for control should they reject. He just hoped that his king did not back out on ethical reasons, should it come to that. Astonishment, in those regards, remained absent, but impatience visited frequently. Hell, he might wed her just to prevent his sons from sending her away.

Aside from all that, he wanted them to stew, to settle in as a reasonable course of action for this unmarried child. If even one of them calmed before they chatted, as all women did, then he did not have to do a thing to further convince. He wanted them to view him as a normal man for now, requiring sustenance and enjoying company. How much they devoured would gage their level of security against him or the prospect. He hoped any nosy spies wanting a story to share would view it as a normal betrothal process, so long as they behaved as a customary meeting would. His departure might signal something amiss.

To avoid any awkward silence, he landed his eyes on the girl, locking them on her. “I do not mind if your daughter has a say on in either. It would not be any good for someone half-hearted to risk her life. That would waste more than her own, in this case.” If she failed, there was no sense in keeping the old woman, though his king had a bleeding heart, not that it was always an inconvenience or disappointment. He served dutifully, but Gustav believed that it should not be extended to outsiders.

He would make sure that when these two were initiated, there would neither be affordable options to them nor considerable options.

“Since I might be here for a while, what are some of the events around here to take part in? Spring is coming up quickly and I assume you have many festivals,” he smiled, his false smile finally settling sweetly on his lips. That smirk earlier simply had to break the soil for him to commit. “You must have as many as anyone else in the northern parts and perhaps more, because of those treacherous snowy mountains.” Had he come across them during those chilly months, the deterrent would have succeeded, even on the bounds of making his trek sluggishly through, if he did not die of the cold first. He despised Nordic lands.

“Where I come from, we do not have such distinct seasons, so it will be a change to observe it sprout from death to life. I did get a chance to observe your fall transitioning out,” he admitted, keeping their talk small. He preferred that to wives’ tales he believed them accustomed to, despite the fact that rumors made his career move much smoother.

Hazel eyes locked onto those of the assassin as she listened to him change topics with ease. Had not seconds ago he informed her mother that he wished to train her to take a human life. Part of her wanted to turn her eyes away, down towards her food or her lap or some other more modest and not him part of the room. Another part of her kept the eye contact as if she was being challenged. As if this was another battle fought with smiles and eyes that were so common among the women of court.

For the first time since he had appeared Rhoswen spoke to him, though in the same way she would speak to any member of her uncle's court. Her words were measured but soft to take any weight they may carry. She had gone her whole life being trained on how to give her opinion without letting it be known she was doing so. "I will consider your offer with great thought. However I am sure there are other more qualified woman then a humble courtier and her aging mother." Now she broke eye contact letting her eye skim over her mother before moving down to her plate. The knot that her stomach had tied it's self into was easing a bit as the thought settled in her mind. Her mother didn't have to say yes, she didn't have to agree to this at all. It made it feel like a more approachable subject to do as she had said and think on.


" We have many festivals this time of year ,yes.The festival for the Spring equinox, and the Mayday festival will be coming up coming soon for example." Across from her she watched her daughter stare at the man to her left. What she read in Rhoswen's soft and fake court smile and hazel eyes, that were flooded with far to much emotions to pick out a prominent one, was life. She had not seen that look come across her child's face for some years.The last time she wore it it have been partnered with the love she held for her Bale.Now with out that emotion softening her features Renora felt she might be glimpsing into the another side of her daughter that her life in court had covered.


Cutting a piece off of the meat on her plate she brought it to her mouth and chewed saving her daughters expression to her pondered over later.Perhaps she would even bring it up with her daughter.Her child must have been frightened by Gustav's offer but the other emotions in her eyes danced around that fear as if this life before her was a new undiscovered part of the forest.

((Short post is short, but I have to be up early and maybe I'll be on when you are. We keep missing each other.))

(((Hey, sorry that I have not posted yet. I got sick on Thursday and have been fighting it since. Plus our internet pooped out enough that Mom finally got involved. We are thinking of getting a new modem, but found two spares. One has got to work. Good thing I am off Sunday and Monday. I went over to neighbors to types this. I'll be pasting it to one other person and then I have to go, unless they permit me longer.)))

((It's fine I'm sorry you got sick. I have to work Sunday but since it's memorial weekend I'm hoping we'll be super slow and I'll get off early. I do have Monday off though.))

((Ever, I think I am going to take a break from this and by that I do NOT mean quitting, but whenever I am not doing something, because I already have this person's character worked out. My friend already has three books worked and I still haven't finished one. I am writing a person in first person perspective and its difficult not to write my own bias about him, verses his thoughts about himself, so I am going to work on him in any story I can.))