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He didn’t usually think of himself as hot-tempered. That was his father, though he was rather good at hiding it. He had to, really, with all his work as Lord of Waterdeep. Couldn’t get far with the nobles and merchants and mages and priests if one was constantly yelling how stupid they were. No, those outbursts were meant for the relative privacy of one’s home and family, where servants knew better than to spread rumours of their master’s temper.
If he was being honest, he didn’t think he really had a temper. He had moments of annoyance, moments of resignation but never temper. Or at least, he hadn’t had one until he received a rather grimy note that read, “D’Lacroix and Phylund are no more.”
The world was quiet around him. He saw the paper crinkle but it had no sound. They were no more. It couldn’t be true. They had been betrothed for years. If their families had their say, they would have been wedded with at least two children by now. They were destined to be, if you listened to the aunties of the city. If those same aunties also mentioned the Phylund’s tastes in men as mediocre well…at least Averett would distract them with his dalliances. Risana was forgotten, at most, and pitied at the very least.
She had never deserved him. The unspeakable truth one he’d hidden in the back of his thoughts since he’d heard of Lucian’s behaviour at his engagement ball. He had known them both, had seen the way Risana’s face lit up when she peeked shyly at Lucian, only for his eyes to constantly be elsewhere. Running from her the same way he ran away from his responsibilities years later.
He stood, the paper fluttered to land on the ground next to his shoe as he grabbed his jacket and roughly shoved his arms through the sleeves. She’d be home, he wouldn’t even have to confirm it. He knew the way she thought; she’d want to hide from society, as if hiding her presence would hide the news from the gossips that drank their victims dry.
“Erick, I’m going out.” His hat was by the door still and his boots would handle the cobblestones fine. He didn’t have time to call for a carriage. “Don’t expect me back till late, maybe tomorrow. Let the rest of the staff know they can call it an early night.” He strolled out before his manservant had a chance to respond.
He walked quickly, for once grateful of the rain that drove almost everyone inside. He didn’t like being drenched but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with gawkers as he headed towards the Phylund estate. He probably shouldn’t have gone, it’d only incite the rumourmongers but…he thought of Risana locked away in her rooms, silence and grief her constant companions, and walked faster.
He was let in immediately - few houses had the gall to block him entry - and it wasn’t long before Zaniyah was standing in front of him, her hands clasped gracefully in front of her.
“Lord Renaer,” her voice was cool, neutral, “we weren’t aware you would be visiting today.”
“I already know,” he told her, in no mood to play nice.
“You knew that you wouldn’t be visiting today?” The slightest eyebrow raise. “Perhaps you meant to visit some other house then, my lord.”
“Zani,” he growled, but she remained unmoved. “I came to see Risana.”
“My mistress is busy, my lord, but I would be happy to let her know-”
“You will be happy to lead me to her or step aside.” He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced as water trickled down his back. It itched. “I will not leave without seeing her today.”
The eyebrow rose higher. “This is most-”
“Unheard of, improper, impolite. I don’t care, Zani. Will you take me to her or shall I go myself?”
Zani smiled thinly, her eyes glinting with annoyance. “You’re lucky that Lord Averett isn’t here.”
Renaer’s return smile was just as thin. “I don’t think I’m the lucky one in that regard.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment and then sighed and motioned down the hallway. “She’s in the small library. I had just stepped away for refreshments but here.” She opened one of the small serving windows to reveal a half-made up tray of lemon water and snacks. “If you insist on seeing her, you may be the one to bring her the news that the kitchens ran out of her favourite tea blends. You are also welcome to tell her that the merchants are out for the next tenday but I’ve put in an express order. If she doesn’t kill you on the spot, you may also let her know that Cook made her favourite raspberry chocolate cookies and that dinner will be served to her rooms.”
She handed the tray to Renaer who took it carefully. Zaniyah eyed him, as if questioning his ability to carry a tray of food and drinks less than thirty feet, then added a second glass and plate to his tray.
“If she asks for me,” she said, “tell her I am indisposed.” She swept down the hallway and escaped around a corner, leaving Renaer to face Risana alone.
It wasn’t hard to carry the tray. Renaer was used to fighting on ships where the deck was constantly moving underfoot and his opponents rushed him with each swell of the ocean. He probably could have walked the hallway blind and not spilled a single drop except Zani would probably skin him if she found out.
The library door was cracked open and he slid in and bumped it closed with his hip. Improper, he knew that, but he didn’t think Risana would speak openly if she thought others might hear. Granted, she almost never truly spoke openly to him anyways but for once, he wasn’t going to let her slither out of it this time.
“What took so long, Zani? I was beginning to wonder if you’d been kidnapped.”
Risana was settled on an evergreen velvet settee next to a small table crowded with books and a glowing crystal rock that spread soft golden light across her lap. She was reading a letter and her curly hair was…it was down , Renaer realized, shocked. He’d never seen her hair down, not since they were children. It was longer than he remembered, thick and curly and she’d woven yellow ribbons through it to keep the curls away from her face. Even her dress, he saw, was casual. The embroidery was minimal, the cloth good but plain, and her hands were ungloved.
“My apologies, Risana. I’m afraid I distracted Zani from finishing her duties.”
Risana’s head shot up and she stared at Renaer in unfettered disbelief and horror before quickly standing and dropping into a curtsy. “Lord Renaer,” she began, “please accept my sincerest apologies for-”
“Oh stop it,” he said and stepped forward to set the tray down on a half-open table. “It’s just you and me, Risana, the formality is unnecessary and absolutely ridiculous and you know it.”
Risana’s head remained bowed. “Lord Renaer,” she repeated and her voice was ice. “If I had know you were coming, I would have made sure to present myself more-”
His mother would be disappointed with how many times he’d interrupted people today but it wasn’t his fault. Mostly.
“Risana, if you don’t stop acting like we’re in full court, I will dump you on your ass and then ring my jacket out over you.”
Her head shot up and she glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He flicked his sleeve at her and grinned when she hissed as water soaked into her skirts. “I would and you know it.” He held out a hand to her and sighed when she glared harder. “Risana, I don’t need the bows and fripperies. I’ve never needed them from you. I let you pelt me with mud when we were children. You showed me your first hunt kill. I never understood why you put so much distance between us.”
Risana didn’t reply but she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. Her nose wrinkled at his bedraggled clothes and the water slowly dripping off him to form a puddle on the rug. “The damp is terrible for a library. What was Zani thinking, letting you in?”
“Well, I doubt she was thinking much beyond how much of a pain I was,” he told her. “Besides, I didn’t really give her much of a choice.” He bent and picked up the tea tray. “If dampness in the library offends you, we can go elsewhere. Just be assured I don’t plan on leaving any time soon.”
“Arrogant as always, Renaer.” She shook out her skirts and picked the letter up from where it’d fallen on the settee. The glowing crystal went into her pocket. “Follow me then, if you must.” She left the library and Renaer followed her up a flight of steps and down another hallway to a sitting room that was too comfortable to be anything but the family’s personal sitting room and not the one meant for unwelcome guests. Renaer knew what that one looked like.
He put the tray on the coffee table - With nary a drop spilled, he thought smugly - and watched as Risana shuffled around the room to collect blankets that she draped over one of the lounges. She frowned at him then said, “Wait here.” She left and Renaer walked to the window and stared out over the familiar Phylund grounds. He could barely make out the guards patrolling the perimeter as the rain slammed down harder and for a moment he felt a surge of pity for them. He shrugged the feeling off as the door clicked open and Risana entered again, this time with towels and a bundle of clothes in her arms.
“Dry off and get changed. I don’t want to hear Averett moaning about how you ruined his favourite cushions.”
Renaer looked around the room and then back at her. “Risana, I know the betrothal being over is new but really, this is awfully fast, even for-”
“There’s a wash closet attached, you dolt,” she seethed. “You’re lucky I even bothered to bring you spare clothes. Why didn’t you take a carriage or at least wear one of your oilcloths?”
Renaer stepped through the wash closet door but left it open a smidgen so he could keep talking to her. She couldn’t see in from her angle anyways. “I was in a hurry. Besides, a little rain never hurt anyone.”
“No, it just rots books and molds cushions.” There was a thump as she collapsed onto a lounge and then a clink of crystal as she poured herself a drink. “What happened to my tea?”
“Ah, regretfully, your kitchens are out of your blend.” Renaer stepped out and headed to the second lounge covered in blankets. “Zani ordered more but it’ll be a bit before it arrives. But look,” he picked up some of the raspberry and chocolate cookies and placed them on a plate, along with a grape bunch and circle shaped lemon tart, and handed it to her. “Cook made your favourites.”
She glared at him and then took the plate and slunk down into her lounge. “Buttering up Zani, I see.”
He wrapped one of the blankets around himself before building his own plate and then settled down. “I don’t think that’s what she would call it.” He grinned inwardly in relief as Risana ate a cookie. Her face was too pale, as if she’d been hiding for more than a day. Though, she had spent most of her life hiding, hadn’t she. Not just her face but her mind, her sharp tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d called anyone a dolt.
He let her eat in peace, let her sip her lemon water, and waited until she set her plate down with a soft sigh before he said, “I’m sorry, Risana.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “I don’t need you to be sorry for me.”
“Fine, I’m not.” He ignored her narrow eyed look and took a sip of his own lemon water. “Maybe I’m sorry that you’ve been put into one unconscionable situation after another. Maybe I’m sorry that you haven’t been treated the way you should be. Maybe,” he looked at her over the edge of his glass to see her staring back, her hands fisted in her skirts. “I’m sorry that you have held yourself back most of your life in the hopes that your former fiancée would have the balls to step up and meet you where you are, instead of constantly dragging you down into the dirt. Maybe,” and his voice grew harsher, “I’m sorry that you’ve had nobody tell you that you deserved better, that you are leagues above him and his family and that you could have soared instead of crawled.”
“Stop.” A pale hand held up, the veins almost purple in the light. “Stop, Renaer. I don’t…you shouldn’t…” A shaky breath. “I could have called it off when he disappeared, you know this.”
“And who actually encouraged you to do that, hm? His family, grasping for funds? Your family who taught you your duty? I love Averett, he’s the brother I never had, but I’m not afraid to admit that he did you a disservice by never settling down and producing an heir.”
“You have no right to say that, Renaer. When you haven’t found a match, when you carouse around the city night after night. How dare you imply that my brother is the one at fault here.”
“Fine,” he shot back, that unfamiliar curl of heat rising at the back of his neck, “maybe he’s not the only one at fault here but you can’t be blind enough to not see his mistakes. You should have ended it when you had the chance. You should have cut your losses and found some other idiot noble to wed, at least then you’d have something. What do you have now? A wet handkerchief and pride?”
Risana’s face went white and then her lips thinned as a mottled red flushed up chest and neck and settled in her cheeks. Her hands were clenched in her skirts, the knuckles white and pressed against the skin.
“You have no right to speak like that to me,” her voice was viciously controlled and Renaer winced. “You think it’s so easy to just end an engagement without consequences? When my family’s reputation was on the line? Do you think I like being talked about as the ample dowry so unsavory that the D’Lacroix heir ran away to avoid it? Do not act as if you know what drove my decisions, Lord Renaer Neverember . You, with your family able to escape even the accusations of theft. You, who were not spurned from noble company because of your birthright. You know nothing if you think that welcome is available to everyone.”
“We were friends!” Renaer bellowed. “Did you think I would cast you aside for choosing a different path than what was laid out for you?”
“I will not be a charity case.” Risana stood, her hands still clenched and shaking at her side. “I have my dignity, Lord Neverember-”
“Renaer.”
“Lord Neverember and I will be damned if I survive only by begging for the scraps that fall from your family’s table.”
“Friends help each other! By the gods Risana.” Renaer ran his hands through his hair and yelped as his fingers got caught on a rain knot. He shook his hand free and glared at her. “You would not have been the first person to fall back on a friend, to ask for help during a trying time. What possessed you to think that I would do that? Is this why you’ve grown so distant? Because you think I…what. That I pity you? See you as a doll to play with and then abandon for something prettier? I’m not Lucian. ”
“I KNOW.”
They both froze, staring at each other and Risana’s face went white again. She was breathing hard, her eyes wide and startled. It wasn’t ladylike to yell, Renaer remembered her governess reminding her that when she was only eight.
“Then why?” he asked again, wishing he could take back his earlier words, knowing he’d spoken to her what he wanted to say to her brother, to Lucian.
“You won’t understand,” she whispered.
“Sana.” She twitched at her childhood nickname and looked away. “Please. At least let me try to understand.”
She didn’t look at him but she sank back down to the lounge, her limbs suddenly limp as she bowed over her lap. Renaer hesitated and then poured her a fresh glass of lemon water and sat on the floor next to her, the glass of water perched on his shoulder with one hand to balance it. His back was to her as he said, “Please?”
There was silence for a long time, broken only by their breathing and the rain that pelted the windows. The wind was picking up and it rattled the shutters. Slowly, she reached out and took the glass of lemon water from him. A sip, then another, and then he felt it as she pulled her legs up and settled further against the lounge.
“My mother,” she began quietly, “wanted me to marry for love. I think my father did too but he was always the more pragmatic of them. He knew they had been lucky, they loved each other and they continued to love each other until she died. But he knew that the chances of Averett and me finding a love match were low. ‘Better to marry someone who respects you and can provide for you,’ he used to say. ‘Love can grow from respect but it will wilt when there’s nothing else to nourish it.’” A bitter laugh. “I never thought much of it. I knew that I had to marry well for our family and I only hoped for someone who wouldn’t mind a wife who was…damaged.”
He saw her touch the scars on her hand out of the corner of his eye; his jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything, just pressed his shoulder against her foot and let her continue.
“Lucian’s parents…they…they didn’t mind that I wasn’t perfect. I overheard his father saying Lucian needed to be broken, like a horse to a bridle and at least I had some expertise in that arena. And he wasn’t wrong.” She placed the glass on the table and curled up, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. “I was good at what I did. It was…a relief. A relief to know that I was going to marry someone whose family actually approved of what I did. And Lucian, he was…distant. But he wasn’t unkind and I thought…we were still young, Renaer. I thought maybe he was just shy and didn’t want to admit it.”
There was silence again and Renaer felt her shift again until her foot was back against his shoulder. He hesitated and then draped a hand over his shoulder and on her skirt covered foot.
“But then he disappeared,” he said softly.
“He disappeared,” she repeated. “There was a clause in the contract. We had a waiting period first, just in case. Typical for nobles, you know how it is. Kidnappings, ransoms, idiotic ventures into dangerous forests where rescue parties are needed. So I waited. And then...it was just easier to wait some more. Just in case, you know?” Another shuffle. “I did…try. When I went to the parties. Oh I danced and I conversed and I did everything I was supposed to. I was… eligible ,” she spat the word, “again. Poor Risana, all alone, no fiancée, no spring wedding as planned. Except every time I’d see their eyes linger on my face, my hands. They would talk about how their mothers and sisters were gentle ladies who loved to embroider and plan parties. They’d ask me what my favourite sidesaddle was and if I had opinions on the best card games to play during the rainy seasons.”
She let out the barest beginnings of a snort and Renaer felt his lips twitch. “The first few times I mentioned I often hunted during the rain they were astonished. And then they told me how terrible that would be for my health. ‘Your poor hands, how they must suffer!’” Another little snort. “And if I brought up the creatures I was training, gods Renaer.” She sighed. “But Lucian never did that. He was just…there. Until he wasn’t. But I wanted him to be there. I wanted that familiarity and to know that he wasn’t going to judge me for being me.”
“I never judged you.”
“Liar.”
It was his turn to sigh. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Do I?” She pushed at him with her foot until he turned to face her, one hand still on her ankle. “We’re only talking because you pushed your way in here and judged me.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. Her eyes widened. “I mean it, Sana, I really do. I was angry, yes. But I shouldn’t have said what I did. You didn’t deserve it.”
“My decisions,” she reminded him.
He poked her ankle. “Stop it.”
She shoved at his forehead and he leaned out of her reach.
“Be honest with me, please. Did you think I’d act like all those other idiot nobles?”
She let out a long breath and then she fell sideways to lay on her side. He couldn’t see her face but he could tell that she’d curled her legs up to her chest.
“Maybe? Yes? I don’t know. Your father was the Open Lord, Renaer. You had different expectations than the rest of us. You ran in different circles. For all I knew, you’d become just like them.”
“Unlikely,” he grumbled.
“Yes, well.” A deep breath. “I don’t think I could have born having you treat me like that.”
“I wouldn’t have.”
“You might have.”
“You should have trusted me.”
Silence.
“Risana…” he turned on his knees until he was kneeling facing her. She’d tucked her hands under her cheek and her gaze was focused on the rain battered window. “Look at me.” She didn’t. He poked her cheek and she swatted his hand away. Undeterred, he poked her cheek again and again until she growled and glared at him.
“You should have trusted me,” he said firmly. “But…I understand, I think, why you felt like you couldn’t and I’m sorry. You should never have felt like you couldn’t depend on me or anyone else and I’m so sorry, Risana.”
Her gaze began to slide away and he poked her cheek again. Her glare deepened.
“Stop poking me. I’m not a toy.”
“I’m trying to have a conversation.”
“I’m tired of talking.”
“Then you can listen and stop pretending I’m not here.”
She gave him an unimpressed look. “It’s hard to ignore you when you’re looming over me like a barbarian.”
He went to poke her again and she slammed his wrist to the lounge. “Stop it,” she hissed.
Renaer rolled his eyes but held his other hand up in surrender. She eyed him suspiciously but let his wrist go. He waited for a moment then folded his arms on the lounge and then settled his chin on top. It wasn’t comfortable, the lounge was too low for him, but she stared at him and he decided it was a victory.
“What were you going to do if you married him?” he asked. “Hope that he stopped pretending you didn’t exist?”
“He sent me flowers,” she protested.
Renaer gave her a look. “And those dinner dates at Trollskull. How many did he miss?”
She didn’t answer.
“How many times did you have to push him to engage with your marriage planning? How many times did he disappear on you or act like you were requesting something incredibly unreasonable from him?”
Her eyes closed. “Stop it,” she whispered.
“You would have withered and died in that marriage, not because he disapproves of what you do but because he can’t pull himself out of whatever muck he’s found himself in. And you, you silly idiot, think it’s your job to somehow fix him. That your marriage would magically make him happy and complete and that you’d have a happily ever after and lo, the gates to noble paradise would lay open before you.”
She turned her head and buried her face in the cushions.
“Your parents wanted love for you and you decided that love meant sacrificing yourself for someone who didn’t ask for your help.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh? Then tell me, when did Lucian ever ask for your help? When he finally reappeared? I saw him, Risana. Drunk and half-alive in a temple and his first words weren’t for you. Nor were his second or third.”
A muffled inhalation of air.
“He’s not the worst person I’ve ever met and at times I do enjoy his company and the rest of his party. But Risana, that doesn’t mean he was right for you. That doesn’t mean you should tie yourself to him for the rest of your lives.”
“You don’t understand , Renaer.” A shuddering breath. “You’ve always had people who liked you. Who wanted to be your friend.”
“Not because of me,” he corrected her. “But because of what my family could do for them.”
“And I never had that,” she continued, almost as if she hadn’t heard him. “I was always so alone and I was so scared that I’d always be alone and I didn’t want to be. I’d rather have someone at my side who barely tolerates me than nobody at all.”
Her breathing was ragged and Renaer could hear the tears in her voice, the tears he hadn’t seen since her mother died.
He hesitated, uncertain if she’d welcome his touch and then decided she’d make it clear if she didn’t.
He put a hand on the back of her head, fingers flat so he wouldn’t catch her curls, and let his head rest on his other arm. He remembered his mother doing this for him when he was young and had nightmares. He would wake crying and frightened that the mansion was empty; his mother would appear in a wave of lilacs and vanilla and she’d settle next to him, one hand on his head and they’d stay there until the room lightened with dawn. She never said anything but Renaer had always felt comforted, the weight of her hand a reminder that he wasn’t alone, that he was loved.
Underneath his hand he felt Risana let out a hiccuping breath and shift slightly, just enough for her head to turn so she could look at him through the fall of curls across her face. He couldn’t see much from where his own head rested but he could feel her gaze, feel the way she held herself still, almost as though she were surprised.
Neither one said anything for several long minutes and Renaer had begun to wonder how long it’d take for his arm to wake up when there was the echo of the hourly bells through the window. They were drowned out by thunder seconds later but it was enough to make them both twitch and then shove themselves upright.
Risana had imprints of the brocade pillow on one check and her face was red. He pretended not to notice the tear stains and focused on flexing his fingers and grumbled as pins and needles tingled down his arm.
Risana pushed herself over to one side of the lounge and tucked her feet beneath and then nudged Renaer’s shoulder. “Stop sitting on the floor.” She pushed the pillow she’d been lying on upright and then frowned at Renaer. “Why aren’t you moving?”
“So grumpy,” he teased, but stood and stretched with a groan. His knees hadn’t liked kneeling for so long without better cushioning. He raised an eyebrow at the open spot on the lounge. “You sure you want me so close? I can sit over-”
“Shut up and sit down, Renaer. You keep trying to loom.”
He grinned and sat down. His legs stretched out beneath the delicate coffee table and he let his head fall backwards to rest over the top of the lounge. Risana made a disgruntled noise and before he knew it, she had lifted his head just enough to shove the pillow underneath and let his head flop back down on it.
“Oh, this is much better,” he said. She made another noise and his grin widened. “You know, there’s still some of those raspberry cookies left. Think how sad Cook will be if they return uneaten.”
“Shut up,” she said again. “Why must you be so intolerable all the time.”
He flapped a hand in her direction. “If you’re not going to eat them, pass me one, will you? I’m hungry.”
“And let you get crumbs everywhere while you lay there like a limp washcloth? No.”
Renaer sighed. “Saaanaaaa…why are you so mean?”
“I’m being reasonable. I refuse to clean up crumbs because you can’t sit properly.”
“I can’t believe this is the thanks I get for being your friend,” he said mournfully. “I can just see it now, `Son of previous Open Lord starved when local noblewoman refused him food. Authorities are investigating if the starvation was premeditated or igfhgh-”
Risana shoved two lemon tarts into his mouth.
He sat upright and fought to swallow; lemon custard and tart crumbs flew everywhere and he stared at Risana in shock.
“I suppose you couldn’t be too hungry,” she said sweetly, “considering that you can’t even chew your food. Or perhaps it’s that you should learn not to speak when eating.”
“Why you…” he grabbed one of the napkins and wiped at his face. Lemon custard smeared into his hair and he growled at the smug look she shot him. “Brat.”
“Why, Lord Renaer, I simply did what you asked for.”
He glared at her and she smiled primly back.
“I thought you didn’t want to pick up crumbs.”
“I’m not,” she said, “you are. You made the mess after all.” She held up a hand as he spluttered indignantly and continued. “And in return, I’ll let you stay for dinner.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Is Averett going to be back?”
She shook her head and leaned forward to pour them both fresh glasses of lemon water. “No, he’s supposed to return tomorrow at the earliest. It’s just,” the smallest of pauses, “me tonight.”
“If you promise no more food ambushes, then fine.” He took the glass when she handed it to him and swallowed to clear the taste of lemon tart from his mouth.
“I promise,” she smiled.
Renaer looked at that smile, saw the promise of a lie, and smiled back. If she wanted to play, then he wasn’t going to stop her.
“Right, so, what’s for dinner?”