OoOoO
Jatheryn came up spluttering, cool water dripping down the nape of his neck to raise gooseflesh across his bare shoulders. Eyes closed, he fumbled for the nearby towel and buried his face in it. The pungent scent of dye was everywhere. It was the best quality that money could buy, and yet still the natural white of Jatheryn's hair stubbornly kept wearing through only days after each dye.
Giving his head a vigorous rub, Jatheryn left the yellow-stained towel draped across the wash basin. He picked up his dark blue tunic from a nearby chair and pulled it on, taking care to avoid his wet hair. The day was still young, and outside birds sang in the lilac hedges. A light breeze stirred the curtains, shading the light pouring in from Jatheryn's balcony. This was the perfect sort of morning for music.
Jatheryn's viol leaned invitingly in the corner, the bow hung next to it. There were no pressing demands on Jatheryn's time that morning, so he was only too happy to accept the call to play. He drew up a stool and took the instrument in hand, the body of the viol settled comfortably between his knees and the bow fitting into his hand like an old friend. Years of familiarity lay between himself and this viol. When he laid the bow to the strings and began a series of scales to warm up, it felt as natural as breathing.
The sound, so rich and spirited, seemed almost unfitting for the gilded surrounding of the Saurivic estate. Jatheryn imagined that the true home of a viol was on a mountainside in the hands of a simple bard, playing a jaunty little tune to welcome the sunrise. Following his thoughts, he leapt straight from his exercises into a gay melody about a farmer's daughter and the sun.
Just as the bow in Jatheryn's hand really began to dance upon the strings, a knock came at the door to his rooms. A sigh of pure frustration escaped him. How could someone as lonely as him be so short on peace and privacy? With great reluctance Jatheryn set aside his viol and went to answer the door.
It was Jenni, Awenis' maidservant. The doe-eyed girl hastily curtsied, lifting the hem of her simple green dress.
"Begging your pardon for the interruption, milord, but your lord father and lady mother asked me to call you downstairs. They await you in the library."
"Very well, thank you Jenni," Jatheryn said.
"Milord." Jenni dipped her chin and turned to go. Pausing at the end of the hallway, she turned and looked back. "Your playing is very fine, Lord Jatheryn."
"...Thank you."
Tucking away the compliment from the servant girl, Jatheryn braced himself for the unknown and headed for the stairs. The libraries were on the far western side of the Saurivic estate, and it took a fair few minutes to get there. Jatheryn made no attempt to hurry. By the time he was reaching for the dragon-shaped library door handles, he hoped he was sufficiently prepared for whatever it was his parents wanted to discuss.
The Saurivic estate library was by far the oldest part of the building. Several times Tyene had tried to convince Jalborn to renovate and refurbish the library, but always Jalborn insisted history was happier in settings to match. Jatheryn wound through bookshelves of carven mahogany, their contents veiled under a fine layer of dust. Here were kept the records of the entire Saurivic line, all the way back to their founder, Taebor, youngest son of First King Amenthis himself.
There were also copies of famous poetry, original manuscripts, and architecture plans from the original estate design. Every generation of Saurivics added something of their own tastes to the estate though, while removing something of the previous generation. Jalborn had sworn sideways that nothing more would be changed while he was still head of the Saurivics. The shelves where renovation records were kept were looking particularly dusty.
Echoes led Jatheryn to find his mother and father seated at a large round table in the center of the library. A sculpture of a mounted Vaelonese knight rose from the wood in the center of the table, the sharp wings on his helmet and the long point of his carven sword nearly buried under a multitude of skewered notes. Some long dead Saurivic had started the pile, and all the Saurivics to come after them had continued the tradition. Would the wooden knight ever buckle under the weight of all that paper?
Jahaelis and Rosarin sat with a roll of parchment unwound on the table between them. It was so long that the top had started rolling itself back up in order to keep the bottom on the table. The gold-leaf border of the parchment was faded, betraying the advanced age of the document.
"There you are, Jatheryn." Jahaelis stood and moved the round lens which obscured the bottom of the parchment. "Come, tell me what you see here."
Aware of his mother's eyes on him, Jatheryn circled round the table to stand next to Jahaelis. Following his father's finger, he recognized one of the oldest documents in their library.
"It's the Saurivic family tree," he answered, uncertain as to Jahaelis's purpose.
"Look at it, see how far back its roots stretch? If our family were an oak tree, we would be so tall and vast by now as to block out the sun completely beneath our eves. Our line has carried on, unbroken, all the way from here..." Jahaelis pointed to the single name, written in faded calligraphy at the top of the tree; Taebor S'aur R'vic. "...all the way to now." He tapped the freshest names at the bottom of the parchment; Jatheryn Saurivic, Awenis Saurivic, Taevrin Saurivic, Myles Saurivic.
Rosarin took a drink from her glass of water with lemon. "How does a tree grow?"
Jatheryn now saw where this was going, and answered with caution.
"Why, by putting out new roots and branches in the spring, of course."
"The same is true of this tree, Jatheryn." Jahaelis was looking at him with a kind of focused intensity that made Jatheryn want to squirm. He held his impeccable posture though. "Your twentieth Birth Day passed this winter, which makes you now officially of age in the eyes of Gorian law. Most youths in Vaelona have been long betrothed by this time, and even more make a dual celebration out of their twentieth and their wedding day."
Rosarin nodded as Jahaelis spoke. "You are the eldest grandchild of Jalborn, meaning you will be the head of the Saurivic family one day." She grimaced and took another sip; no doubt one of her frequent sore throats. "But who will follow you as head? The law says that the title goes to the eldest of each generation. If you do not begin your family soon, Jatheryn, I fear your children will be passed over for the sake of the children of your cousins. Tyene is younger than Jahaelis, so surely you do not want to interrupt the succession of your father's line."
Jatheryn had always known, growing up a son of the nobility, that marriage and heirs were in his future. It had always seemed somewhat further off in the future, as opposed to right now, though. For some reason, no one had ever pressed him on it until now either, despite the coming and going of his adolescence. Still, Jatheryn imagined kissing his beaming bride on their wedding day, and cradling his newborn son or daughter in his arms. If it was time for him to wed, he could not see any reason why he should be troubled about it.
"Of course not, Mother. You are right; I am of age and due for marriage. I...I am afraid I am not courting anyone at the moment though."
"Well that went without saying," Rosarin replied, massaging her throat and taking another sip.
Jahaelis however seemed pleased at Jatheryn's acceptance. "I am glad you agree. That is why we have invited the Farakirns to dinner tonight, so you might continue your conversation with their daughter, Kendris."
"Kendris Farakirn?" Jatheryn balked. Immediately Jahaelis's handsome face folded in a stern frown. Thinking quickly, Jatheryn gestured to the Saurivic family tree where it unfurled on the table. "Father, as you said, our line has come unbroken all the way down from a son of King Amenthis himself. Surely the Farakirns are too, well, common for a Saurivic to wed?"
Jahaelis's angry glare faded, and Jatheryn breathed a private sigh of relief. Folding his arms across the chest of his ochre doublet and stroking his dark goatee, Jahaelis seemed deep in thought.
Rosarin, however, had a counter, as always. "Speaking realistically, Jatheryn, the daughters of the Tremaris and Iralar families are not available to you. You are intelligent, and thus surely know this. As Gendrew and Alais are always happy to mention, they have the social clout to marry their children into the royal bloodline itself."
"Not the Tremaris or Iralar families then, but perhaps a middle-ranked family?" Jatheryn thought of Hadriel, with her magical laughter and blue-grey eyes that saw his very thoughts. "The Shakians, for example?"
Instantly Jahaelis's expression hardened again. "You could do yourself a great service by forgetting about Hadriel Shakian. I saw how you looked at her during the Crowning Day greetings. A girl with beauty such as hers can wed as high as she and her family like. Randir told me not two days ago that Lord Penlor is even now looking to tempt King Mahir into negotiations for a betrothal between Hadriel and young Prince Hithon."
Jatheryn decided right there on the spot that he hated that spoiled, coddled boy, Prince Hithon. He couldn't be older than seven, and yet the nobles of Goran were already seeking to match him with their brightest and most beautiful daughters; daughters like Hadriel.
"Do not look at us so. We are hardly suggesting you marry a farmer's daughter from east of The Teeth," Rosarin was saying. "The Erendors do not have any daughters near your age, and so the Farakirns are the best and only option among the nobility. Have you also considered that the Farakirns are up-and-coming, and a marriage between our two families could give us considerable influence over them in the future?"
Dumbly, Jatheryn nodded. Any enthusiasm he might have had for this idea of marriage had completely wilted away. He let his father and mother talk up the Farakirns for several long minutes before they dismissed him with strict instructions to be downstairs for dinner at five o'clock.
"And for the love of Amenthis, don't wear any of those dark tunics tonight!" Rosarin called after him as he fled the library. "They do nothing for your color."
OoOoO
That evening the members of the Saurivic family took up their posts in the greeting line as the Farakirn carriage pulled into the lane. The servants had just lit the lanterns, and fireflies had yet to gather in the twilight. Standing rigid-backed between Rosarin and Awenis in a gold trimmed tunic emblazoned with the Saurivic crest, Jatheryn wished he were anywhere but here tonight.
When the footman opened the carriage door the first out was Lord Waylon Farakirn. Once a banker, Waylon still dressed for the job in austere, sharp lines and no-nonsense colors. His stern, brooding expression did nothing to soften the overall impression of the man. Waylon's wife, Lady Lizeth, on the other hand, was all plump softness and rosy cheeks. Jatheryn thought he had never seen a pair more mismatched. Behind them the rest of the family exited the carriage with a great and rather undignified clamor.
Waylon Farakin approached Jalborn at the door, bowing with military precision. "Lord Jalborn," he said as he pressed two fingers to his lips briskly to initiate the traditional greeting.
"Lord Waylon, welcome to our home." Jalborn returned the gesture and met the other family head's fingertips with his own. "I was pleased to hear that you accepted our invitation. How fortunate that your son and his family were also able to join us tonight."
"Wasn't it though? And after having had to miss your Crowning Day ball, it's so nice that Harman and Cliodne could be here!"
Lady Lizeth jumped right into the conversation, not waiting until she reached the threshold. She beamed beneath her sparkling tiara. Waylon, clearly used to letting his wife dominate social exchanges, moved on down the line. He greeted Jahaelis and Rosarin briefly before stopping in front of Jatheryn.
"Your grandfather is a very impressive man, Lord Jatheryn. No doubt you'll be waiting on becoming head of the Saurivics for some time if your father has half Jalborn's stamina."
"No doubt, Lord Waylon."
Jatheryn exchanged greetings with Waylon, the other man's fingers cool and hard against his own. Waylon's granite grey eyes studied Jatheryn briefly before moving on to Awenis, Tyene, and her family.
After Waylon and Lizeth, came their three children. First there was Harman Farakirn, the cause of his family's rise into the nobility. His wife was Cliodne Iralar; together the two of them had caused a major scandal in Vaelona some eight years ago.
Cliodne, the willful second daughter of Gendrew and Alais Iralar, had gone to her father one evening and declared her intent to not only court, but marry the son of a banker. Gendrew of course had refused to even consider such a thing, the Iralars being by far one of the most powerful families in the Vaelonese nobility. To that Cliodne had calmly replied that she was with child, and would scream the name of the father in the streets, her reputation be damned.
Old Gendrew simply hadn't had the heart to disinherit one of his beloved children, and so the engagement was announced. Conveniently, less than a month later some long-lost records were found indicating noble ancestry in the Farakirn family tree. And so, the Farakirns had become the eighth noble family of Vaelona. Oddly enough, these rediscovered records were never publicly displayed, their authenticity only once verified in a private magistrate's office. That little scandal within a scandal was a neverending source of entertainment to the gossip mongers.
Once Harman, Cliodne, their seven-year-old daughter Eslain, and infant son Kayden had walked the line, the two Farakirn daughters made their greetings. First was Kendris, looking nervous, if extremely well made-up. Clearly no expense had been spared on her gorgeous red silk dress with matching ruby necklaces and rings. Kendris spoke very softly when Jalborn welcomed her, and Jatheryn missed what she said. When she passed Jatheryn their exchange was so quick there was almost a breeze in her wake.
The youngest child of Waylon and Lizeth, fifteen-year-old Lady Ariel was far more alike to her charismatic brother than her shy sister. Ariel was not exactly a beauty with her wide teeth and freckled cheeks. Still, she smiled frequently in a way that narrowed her eyes into little slits, crinkled her nose, and lit up her whole face. Her wavy brown curls bounced with every step as she brought up the rear of the family procession.
From the front foyer, Jalborn led everyone into the dining room. The table was set with the finest gold-embroidered cloth and arrangements of red and orange ranunculus flowers. Dinner would be game hens with garlic and rosemary, and the scent was already wafting in from the kitchens. The servants had filled every goblet with rich red wine, and a linen napkin with the Saurivic crest on it sat folded on every plate. Rosarin and Jahaelis had taken great care in the planning of this dinner.
Once everyone was seated, Jatheryn went straight for his wine glass. Quaffing a fortifying sip, he took as much care as Kendris to avoid making eye contact. Down the table, Tyene smoothed her dark grey skirt and smiled at Cliodne Iralar.
"Ah, your little one is growing larger by the day. He must be nearly half a year now?"
Cliodne settled her infant son in a bassinet set to one side of the dining room before taking her seat. Her long coppery hair was held back off the shoulders of her burgundy gown by a string of pearls. At seven and twenty, Cliodne looked more like nineteen thanks to the dimple in her chin and thick black lashes that drove so many older women mad with jealousy. She nodded, then whispered something to her fidgety daughter, Eslain, before answering.
"Six months on The Day of the Last Dragon. I see him every day, and even so he continues to surprise me. Just the other morning he was rolling like a log when we tried to bathe him."
Harman Iralar chuckled, a lock of dark hair falling over his forehead.
"Infants are surprisingly able to make their wishes known, and Kayden it seems rarely wishes to have a bath."
Harman, like his sisters, was not remarkably attractive, but just as with Ariel, there was some spark of charm about him that made him pleasant to look at all the same. He spoke with an animation that could only have come from his mother, Lady Lizeth.
"Have you moved to new rooms in the Iralar estate then, now that your family has added to itself once again?" Jahaelis asked. He unfurled his napkin and set the heavy gold ring off to one side.
"Oh yes, Lady Alais insisted even before Kayden's actual birth," Harman replied. "I think she was hoping to get some peace and quiet in the aftermath of this second newborn."
Cliodne raised an eyebrow at her husband, but her wry smile was more amused than disapproving.
"Nonsense! Mother loves having Eslain, and now Kayden, close at hand. With Gwynnis being so far away in Amenthere, it really is a shame that we do not see more of her and her family."
Waylon set down his wine goblet in the exact spot from which he had lifted it.
"Such is the life of kings and queens; there is rarely time for pleasure visits, even to Vaelona. Lizeth and I on the other hand are fortunate to have our eldest close at hand, even if he has married up and abandoned our family name." The Farakirn lord gave Harman a pointed look that badly concealed his approval. "Now headship of the Farakirns will fall to Kendris, unless of course she follows her brother's example."
Two seats down from her father, Kendris, visibly colored, looked down at her plate. Jatheryn would have been just as pink if that were even possible for him.
"Yes, your son has done very well for himself and his family," Tyene commented drolly, the oblique reference earning her a sharp look from Rosarin.
"As no doubt your daughters will too," Jalborn said from the head of the table, smoothing things over instantly.
The younger children, namely Myles and Elsain, were beginning to squirm as the scent of seasoned game hen grew stronger. They were saved from parental reprimands by the arrival of half a dozen servants, all carrying laden gold platters. Steam wafted from the green bean and parsnip side dishes to mingle with the candles. Little Kayden let out a squawk from beside the window, and Cliodne was just about to rise when Harman beat her to it. By the time everyone, infants included, were settled and ready to eat, Jatheryn's mouth was actively watering.
"Lady Kendris, Jatheryn tells me that you have an interest in music?" Jahaelis disregarded his food for the moment, leaning forward encouragingly.
Jatheryn felt his stomach sink. He was about to be caught in his lie of having actually spoken to Kendris at all at the Crowning Day ball. The savory meat in his mouth instantly turned dry.
Kendris must have felt Jatheryn's eyes on her for the first time that evening; briefly her gaze flickered towards him. Her full lips barely moving, she spoke in a low murmur.
"I do, Lord Jahaelis. Music is a...hobby of mine."
Patting her daughter's shoulder, Lady Lizeth beamed. "Kendris has taken harp lessons ever since she was old enough for her little fingers to reach the strings. Such a clever girl, she caught on straight away!"
"Do you play any instruments too, Lady Ariel?" Taevrin asked. He and Myles were sporting near identical dark red tunics that night. Jatheryn couldn't help but feel satisfied when he noticed the oily sheen to Taevrin's forehead. Was that sweet justice he heard knocking?
"Oh yes, many!" Ariel nearly knocked her wine glass over in her excitement. "The cello, the flute, the piano, and more besides that. Father wanted us to take lessons in mathematics, but I always found numbers so dull. It doesn't have the life to it that notes and sound do."
"Ahem." Waylon gave his youngest daughter a sharp look. Ariel quieted, but didn't seem very abashed. "As Kendris was saying, she has indeed been musically trained. She has also excelled in all her lessons concerning accounting, geography, economy, history, philosophy, and natural sciences."
"How excellent, a very learned young woman to be sure." Jahaelis nodded. "Jatheryn likewise is quite studious, more than I ever was as a youth. Awenis gives him a real challenge when it comes to natural sciences, but in philosophy and economy he certainly excels."
Jatheryn's internal groaning grew in frequency and volume as dinner went on. The conversation settled into a back-and-forth volley of the Farakirns and Saurivics each talking up Kendris and himself in turn. He wondered just who was trying to convince who that this would be a good match. It felt like he and Kendris were a prize mare and stallion being paraded before potential breeders. Or perhaps their being two undesirable nags up for pawning off to each other was closer to the actual truth. At least the stallion would have a nice green open field to go back to after the fact.
OoOoO
After dinner, the young people were banished to the gardens "for a nice evening walk in the fresh air," while the parents stayed inside sitting and drinking more wine in the parlor. Harman and Cliodne left early, citing the need to have Kayden and Eslain in bed soon. Eslain waved goodbye at the door as they left, her little hand tucked into her father's. Jatheryn wanted to wave back, but settled for smiling at the young family. Social protocol could be a real deuce sometimes.
Ariel and Kendris, Jatheryn, Awenis, Myles, and Taevrin headed out along the garden path, leaving their parents to their plotting, fireflies were beginning to gather in the dark. They hovered like little stars around the hanging lanterns, which might as well have been suns to them. The night flowers were in full bloom, particularly the primrose and cereus. Their white petals stood out against their shadowed green-black leaves.
Jogging out a few steps ahead, Myles grinned at Kendris and Ariel. His blonde hair was starting to come out of the precise styling Tyene had subjected it to earlier.
"My cat, Lioness, had kittens just the other week. Five of them. Would you like to see?"
Ariel clapped her hands together with glee. "Yes! Do they have their eyes open yet?"
Gathering up her bright green skirts, Ariel scampered off with Myles toward the Saurivic estate stables.
"Ariel, mind your dress," Kendris called after her younger sister. It was the loudest Jatheryn had ever heard her raise her voice.
"They really are both too old to be acting so childish," Taevrin commented, watching Myles and Ariel. He lifted his cleft chin imperiously. "Honestly, it is just another litter of cats. There will be another just like it next year."
"That's rich coming from you, coz. You're only half a year or so older than Lady Ariel is! Why, just last spring you were even still picking your favorite kitten out from the batch and naming it."
Awenis rolled her eyes. She was wearing glittery eye powder, just like what one of her friends had debuted the other day. Her pale blonde hair was done up in a somewhat older style than was her usual. Jatheryn noticed that his sister was also wearing new jewelry, namely a silver ring twisted into an eternity loop.
Taevrin gave Awenis a dirty look. "My sixteenth Birth Day is coming soon, and I know how to act my age. More importantly, I will be ready for coming of age when I get there."
"What do you mean by that?" Awenis asked.
Kendris walked silently beside Awenis, as far away from Jatheryn as she could place herself. Jatheryn likewise was trying hard not to comment on how much shorter than other boys his age Taevrin still was. Anything to distract them from the true topic of the evening. No doubt the adults were negotiating terms and conditions back in the parlor even as they spoke.
"I mean I won't be waiting around to start my own branch on the family tree," Taverin said importantly. "I expect to be married on my twentieth Birth Day and not a minute later. Mother and Father have just about reached an agreement with Lord and Lady Kilgorin. Soon I'll be betrothed to the Lady Bythnaryn."
"Bythnaryn?" Awenis gaped. "She never told me anything about getting betrothed to you."
"No doubt she wouldn't have. Mother and Father only just told me this morning, so likely Lady Bythnaryn won't have known until today as well. Our parents wanted to make sure everything was in order first."
"Did your parents not ask you for your thoughts on the betrothal at all first?" Jatheryn asked.
"No, why? Lady Bythnaryn is beautiful enough, and the Kilgorin family is doing very well for a middle family. It's a fair match." Taevrin shrugged.
Watching his fifteen-year-old cousin acquiesce to a betrothal so casually almost made Jatheryn ashamed. What business did he have being picky, already of age and still unbetrothed as he was? Kendris was intelligent and a lover of music, two things that sat well with him. She was not near as beautiful as Hadriel Shakian, not even close. Still, time would pass and beauty would age. So long as he and Kendris could come to a personal understanding, maybe they could find enough happiness, or at least contentment with one another to last one lifetime.
Gathering up his nerve, Jatheryn ducked around behind Taevrin and Awenis to place himself beside Kendris. She gave a little start as he sidled up next to her, goose pimples standing out on the pale flesh of her neck. Jatheryn did his best to smile in a friendly, non-threatening manner.
"Your mother said you play the harp, Lady Kendris?"
Kendris nodded, looking down at her feet in the dark as she walked. A firefly flew past her face, casting a glow across her features. She wasn't beautiful, but perhaps one could call her pretty in such a moment.
"Yes, I had thought to apply to the Bardic College before we joined the nobility."
"Truly?" Jatheryn asked encouragingly.
"That was before we became nobles though. Noblemen and women have no place in the performing arts, as you well know, Lord Jatheryn. Such a thing is apparently beneath us."
"I have a hard time agreeing with that sentiment." Jatheryn frowned, shaking his head. "When I hear a song played well, I think that there could be no higher calling."
"You do?"
Kendris's voice had been rising slightly in volume as they spoke of music. She chanced a direct, if brief, glance sideways at him.
"I do. Lady Kendris...maybe...maybe if you and I...well, if we are betrothed to one another...perhaps we could play your harp and my viol together? Someday, when no one else is watching us?"
Kendris blushed so deeply that Jatheryn worried she could turn and run back to the house. He was just about to start stammering out a shoddy apology when she looked up again.
"I would like that, Lord Jatheryn."
They turned a loop on the garden walkway and found Awenis and Taevrin waiting for them, bickering animatedly about Taevrin's potential betrothal to Bythnaryn Kilgorin. Jatheryn and Kendris spoke no more to one another the whole way back to the house, but neither did they distance themselves. Jatheryn spent the whole time in quiet thought. Perhaps this could work. It would not be the happily ever after that little children hear about in storybooks and songs, but it might be the start of something good. Jatheryn Saurivic, head of the Saurivic family, husband and father, maybe?
OoOoO