Alasair 3, 228: Family Oath

Family Oath
Summary: Princess Roslin meets with her father, the King, for the first time since her return from Lakeshire.
OOC Date: 21/August/2013
Related: Arrival of a King
Callem Roslin 
King's Chambers
Wouldn't you like to know.
Alasair 3, 228

It was unusual, Roslin’s homecoming. Having always been a most thoughtful, careful, and polite young Princess, the sight of her bursting unannounced through the doors, when all thought her safe in Lakeshire as she had been for the past year, must have been surprising on a number of levels. And it is known, particularly by her family, that Roslin Kilgour never does anything by accident. So surely the spectacle had thought and purpose behind it.
But does that really matter? What matters is that she’s home, now. Why is she home? Only she can say, but now that she is, matters must be attended to. Parents must be visited. Business must be accomplished. And so, it is with an expensively, expertly brushed dress of purple cotton, embroidered along the neck and sleeves and along the hem in a lighter purple, that the red-headed Princess of the Kilgour family makes her way to her father’s chambers, and has her presence announced there.

"Her Highness, Princess Roslin Kilgour." a guard announces at the entrance. The door, as it couldn't be otherwise, is promptly and widely opened without the need of a confirmation voice from the inside, though of course, there is only happiness in the King's expression for the new arrival. A daughter he expected for so long, that his gaze shines as bright as the crown that rests on his bed, mirroring the sunlight that enters through the big windows that face to the sea. Outside the tides wave gently, birds, sailors, and ships move in a distant performance.

"Roslin." the strong voice of the only occupant in the chamber, at least for now, echoes and moves with him in his impromptu move to stand up and look at her in incredulous gaze. "How are you, my child? Please, come in and take seat." his hand gestures inside, and a long moment of silence comes as an invitation for the guest to speak of her whereabouts.

No doubt the Princess has grown since he last saw her. Chubbiness fading from her cheeks, a more shapely womanishness to her body. Though newly 16, before him the man can see the transformations from girl toward womanhood that have taken place over the last year - though her body is not quite there yet. She bustles gracefully into the room, holding her skirts up a bit to give herself a more regal appearance. She does not embrace him yet, however. No, instead the girl takes her responsibilities to heart, and drops into a curtsy before her leige and lord and King, lowering her head and her eyes in deep and utter respect. Only once she is on her feet again does she cross the room to lay a kiss on his cheek.
“Hello, father,” She purrs, fondly. The girl carries herself with more confidence than ever. “Here I was so afraid you would be angry with me, after my stunt at King Aberdeen’s welcoming. I wouldn’t have done it if I had known you were so importantly occupied. I would have at least waited until morning to present myself.”

A bit of entertainment is manifest at the courtesy from his own daughter, but there is some satisfaction that comes from it, as well. The King nods in response, very gently, but his will is not strong enough to contain a little laugh followed by a warm smile. "Angry? King Isaac is my brother, but you are the blood from my blood. There is nothing to be angry about, Your Highness." his smile is only more jovial, and it can be said that his satisfaction is indeed derived by the formality that may lack somewhere else in the family. Something relieving, in a way. "But you may face my anger if you don't sit and tell me everything about your stance, so far away from home. In turn I will tell you, and I hope you can forgive me for spoiling the surprise, of how much your mother and I missed you, and all the prayers we raised in your name."

“I will sit then, father. But only so as to avoid incurring your great and noble wrath,” She is teasing him, he can tell, by the lightness in her tone. But it is quite good-natured stuff, that tone, and clear that she in fact means no malice. It is also spoken softly, as are all of her words to him - something of reverence, in her tone. She sits as she is bade, straight-backed as any tutor might demonstrate to a young royal charge of her own. “I have not yet been to see mother, but in truth that is why I returned and in the manner that I did. Some concerning rumors had reached me in Lakeshire, rumors about Caillin and about Logen. Between that and the war I decided that my place was here, where I might best serve my family in these and all matters.” Her hands are placed daintily on her lap, and she faces her father openly. Her tone softens, as does her face. “If what I have heard is true, it is mother I am most concerned for. For her heart must be breaking from it all.”

Callem takes seat, as well, and attentively listens to every word from the Princess. Her tease is received with a grin of his own, but then it gradually fades as the comments about her siblings and war come to the conversation.
"You are right, Roslin. It has not been easy for any of us." the hero of past wars stands up, moving to face out to the sea as if needing it before proceeding. As if needing it to find his next words, or even to find himself in the light clouds of far coasts. "Our family has suffered, and years of planning have been destroyed by the egoistic wishes of Logen and Caillin, that is true. I know, better than most, the enormous power of the beat of a heart, and still, I did it by committing to my duties. I gave my life to my family and acted accordingly, but for them, their family and their Kingdom went to a second place, second to their own desire. Do you think I was really surprised to hear about Moniwid ships aligning with Laniveer, raised against us? How could I be? When we refused to marry Logen to their Princess and weeks after he fell under the enchantment of a lady, not only bringing us shame and dishonor, but offending the rulers of Rustles Island with his actions? Do you think that seeing my own daughter become a Baroness as a punishment was not enough punishment for my own heart?" the King shakes his head and shoots a new look at the red-haired young in the chamber. "You came here as a light of hope. Which I really wish you are, my child. I wouldn't endure a new hit, such as the ones you have already heard."

Roslin rises after her father, moving to walk behind him and set a gentle hand on his shoulder. She must reach up to do so, for she is still a little thing, but the gesture is there all the same. She is comforting him. “Then let us make a pact, you and I,” she says, lowering her hand as he turns to face her. “In every motion that I make, in every thought that I have an action that I commit I shall keep my kingdom and my family in my heart, and shall be as true a Kilgour Princess as you and mother have taught me. My life and my service and my future will be entirely for you, and you will have no reason to fear that I should stray from this path I set myself upon to uphold the values of a proper lady as much as I am able.” She has a serious, yet gentle and sincere look on her face as she speaks, though she does not waver and does not faulter. Indeed, she nearly glows with her confidence. “In return, all I ask is that you use the good-will I will build around myself to secure for me a husband that will give over so much to Mobrin that our house and our realm shall be secure for many years to come. Let them say that it was my marriage that kept the heart of our house beating for a generation, be it through wealth or warships. I will make this oath to you now as a knight swears his fealty, and carry it with me all my days.”

Her regal and formal introduction gave happiness to the King, but it is her words that bring him a smile full of pride. He faces her, examining in serious stare, and speaks to her not in the tone of a father, but in the tone of a general. Which is what he has been for all his life, of course. "Princess Roslin," he starts, now resting a hand on her shoulder and forgetting about the sea in the outside. "You have my word. Bring honor to our House, and you will be greatly rewarded. A generation will chant your name, any many more will echo it after you're gone. Serve your Kingdom as the Kilgours of the past, and you will know the power others have denied themselves before." his eyes burn coldly, but his sharp smile is, clearly, full of satisfaction.

Wordlessly, Roslin accepts his promise, leaning up to kiss him fondly on the cheek. “Then there is nothing else for you to worry about for now, and you may come and sit as you had bade me to do.” She moves to take his arm, then, and steer him to a seat. “And tell me about this Moniwid plot - that they have joined our enemies. Do we know it to be true? From where does this information come?” Once the woman is settled and her skirts smoothed out, she looks over at him again. “That is to say, if you do not wish to speak anymore of my time at Lakeshire. I assure you, it was not the sort of adventures stories were made of, though I find myself infinitely wiser for the experience. I have begun particularly interested in trade logistics - the little things that go into making a trade route safe and successful. It is good I came back when I did, though - else I am sure I should have been lost forever in the complexity of it all, never to realize that I was aging away.” Another smile for the man - full of warmth and adoration.

Still clearly satisfied for the promise that has just been made, Callem follows her to take seat. Before speaking a word, his attention focuses on the little resume of her stance with the Kincaid, while nodding copiously at her words, as if taking mental note of it. "I see. We will soon put your trade knowledge at test, when the time comes, I am sure." he assures as his finger starts a little distracted game with the ring in his hand. "And about the Moniwid," the King clears his throat and continues with little enthusiasm and too much worry, "When our diplomatic attempt failed, our men spotted ships with Moniwid banners, sailing along those of Laniveer. And now, just instants before you arrived, our spies have confirmed such information. I have talked to Princess Emerit, their ambassador in our lands, but she denies knowing about it, and suggested me it could be a misunderstanding. But now, and after the new reports, I feel more inclined to let them know why no one has taken our Kingdom as a bunch of fools." the rage burns fiercely in his tone and his eyes. "King Isaac has provided us with ships. Not only those of the dowry for the upcoming marriage of your brother, Tyrel, but with more that are in our way. Princess Emerit is here, inside our walls, as a precious hostage, and that is everything we know for sure about that situation."

“It is a shame we don’t know what manner of numbers we are speaking of in regards to Moniwid’s fleet,” Roslin murmers, eyes glassing over in thought. Something brings her back, however, to the here and now, and those same eyes look curiously up to her father. “We can thank the Gods above that your firstborn son derived his good sense from both you and mother. His marriage may protect us from the harm done by Logen’s. Tyrel … what of this Princess of his? Our Queen, someday? Do you care for her? Does he? I hope, at least, he has found some happiness with her, and that she is liking her time here, well enough.”

"A shame, yes." the King sounds very displeased about the entire situation. "They came here in search of an alliance. We gave them our hospitality, but they have turned against us. Their little isle, if it is true, will burn to ashes with their Princess chained and witnessing it from one of our ships." a hushed voice, is his, but filled in pride and fury. "Unless their Arch Duke has a very good explanation, be sure they will serve as an example."
About her next words, a dry chuckle comes from the sovereign. "Tyrel is the perfect one to succeed me, I have no doubt. And Princess Ciarrah—I have never talked to her at length, but her father is my friend, King Isaac. I hope she has derived her good sense from him, as Tyrel did." he smiles some more.

Roslin nods to a servant, who brings over and pours out some wine. She appears so adult, for a moment, seated straight-backed and sipping from the goblet, as though the years were behind her instead of ahead of her, as they are now. “I shall seek her out, and offer my own company and companionship as I am able, particularly in these dark times. But there is one face I have not yet seen, since I arrived home. Wherever is sister Caillin, and what on earth has become of her in all of this? A Baron? And even I heard it was rather hastily done, the whole business. There is some speculation among the more clever ones around, who know enough to know that there is no purpose to this alliance. But, at least in her case, there are not unspeakable references to unspeakable acts, as there are in the case of Logen’s beloved. Perhaps that in and of itself is a gift.”

"Perhaps." the word can be heard as a question, certainly. "It has hastily done, indeed. So hastily that I was not even present when the arrangements took place, but there was little option for it to have happened otherwise. Perhaps the Gods have a plan we don't know…" Callem's eyes shift to a side, "Or perhaps there is no plan and it was a plain mistake. But it is a mistake we all have to face." a servant, without needing more order than those already spoken words, brings a bottle of wine and two empty cups, just in case. "Do you want some?" the King awaits for her answer before taking his own. "You will meet Caillin soon, my child. She may enlighten you better on what happened. For the good of the Kingdom, I hope you are more like Tyrel and your mother. And if not, I hope it remains as a secret until my last day." he grins friendly.

“Please,” Roslin says, taking an empty glass and holding it out for the servant to fill. Never once does the royal look his way, but instead simply takes the glass back and swirls it beneath her nose. “I cannot help but think of mother in all of this. She puts her heart and soul into her children, and to have it torn so painfully - tell me, how does she fare, in all of this? And how are you? I ask you not as a subject asks a soverign, but as a daughter asks a father. For in truth, I would serve you always if that were to be my lot in life, and the service of your mind and soul is equally important as the service of your crown and kingdom. I wish to know how you fare, between war and scandal and love and heartbreak.”

The King takes his cup and takes a deep drink. "She is better than most in her position, honestly." his head is tilted in both directions, pondering and organizing his words for a moment. "There is more pain than rage in her heart, but we have been beaten by war in our gates at the same time. So the sadness will come later, and Laetitia knows it well. For the most part, and out of the sight of the court, I have seen her calmed and well. She knows how to handle the situation, she knows it better than I. And I will be better, Roslin. I will be better when Laniveer and all their allies burn for me." his tone is serious and convinced. "And I appreciate your worry, but I am more worried than you. Now, the whole weight of a good and worthy alliance rests in your shoulders. If you ask me, at this point I don't with anything else for you, apart of being Queen. Your sister was devastated when she didn't achieve it, but it is an unforgiving road you have to walk."

Even now, in their private conversation, Roslin bows her head respectfully toward her father. “No woman or man can ever know the worry or pain that rests on the head that wears the King’s crown. I would never presume that I do, father.” At the revelation that she must walk a road that will lead her to a crown of her own in order to please her father, the redhead sets down her cup of wine and folds her hands over her lap. It is a pensive moment, one where she takes a deep breath and nods, solemnly. “I understand, father. It is a road I will walk with the grace, humility, and strength you and mother have passed on to me. I will be worthy of it - I seek no devastation in my own future.”

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