Inouv 40, 228: For The Love Of Kincaid

For The Love Of Kincaid
Summary: Lord Rinder Kerrigan comes to visit Duke Aidan Kincaid about alliances through marriage. War is brewing and allies need to be secured, but is this the best course?
OOC Date: 29/12/2013 (OOC)
Related: None
Aidan Rinder Lynette 
Kincaid Manor - City of Stormvale
Before you is a villa style home that is set in behind hedgerows. It is low to the ground and has smooth orange rust colored walls. The roof is made of terra cotta tiles, stacked atop each other. Directly in front is the large wrought iron gate with sturdy wooden slats spiked onto the gate to make what lies beyond a secret. From the gate, the wall spreads to either side and then turns sharply to form a square, at the back of the square, the only raised structure and just barely visible from the front. The 2 story main section of the villa stands directly opposite the gate. In peeking through the wooden slats of the gate, there is a glimpse of a lush courtyard and the open-air rooms that make up the sidewalls, as well as the face of the house proper. Plain and even drab from the outside, clearly this place saves its beauty for within.
It is day 40 of the month of Inouv, 228 2E

In these last days of nights in the month of Inouv, the darkness is still palpable, to the extent that at lunch hour the entire estate needs to be warmed with candle lights and lanterns. The ambiance is locked into a weave of orange lights, flickering and swaying to the breezes that catch in the Manor. The Manor is busier than it has been in the last two years, with the Head of the House having arrived but some four days prior. Servants are available to greet the guests coming and going from the estate, to provide warm refreshments, to offer snacks and to ensure the comfort of all. Guards are posted outside and a few within, though not overly. The main press of Knights to which ride with the Kincaid Duke are boarded in the buildings behind. The amount of men left in Stormvale are enough to see the Duke protected but are not unto themselves a military force. A small entourage means quick depatures afterall.
The parlor room has been readied for the guest and this is where the Duke himself waits, a mug of Chocola in his hand, maps in the other. He's reading the correspondences from his brothers, flipping back and forth between them and the maps of Mobrin. There is never a moment to waste and even here, a stop over in Stormvale is the most appropriate place for mustering strategy amongst being aware of political favourites. He's wearing a richly made black overcoat, belted at the waist in silver, with bell shaped sleeves which boast embrodiery, and breeches that offer comfort in movement, boots polished and snug.

Lord Rinder Kerrigan arrives precisely at the appointed time, with precisely a suitable entourage of men and servants. The guards, of course, remain outside, waiting patiently for their lord and perhaps making some small talk with the Kincaid guards. A single servant accompanies Rinder into the house, bearing with him a couple of obvious cases for parchments and papers. He is dressed in proper finery…not ostentatious, but richly-woven and of excellent quality…good Greenshire wool, of course. Despite his age, he moves with the vigor of a younger man, showing little of the signs of his age behind the thinning hear and the lines around his eyes.

The party of two makes their way through the household, until finally reaching the parlor, one of Aidan's servants announcing:

"Lord Rinder Kerrigan is here, your Grace, as expected."

As he is received, Rinder places a hand to his chest and lowers his gaze, as etiquette demands, before meeting the Duke's gaze with a polite smile, "Your Grace, I thank you for taking the time to meet with me on such short notice."

The noise further on in the manor is of some indication to Aidan that his company has arrived, yet, he moves not until the announcement by the servant has been made. It seems it takes a moment to drag his eyes off the maps, which, once he does, are folded and set aside. A page, with a gesture, comes over to gather the paperwork up, as Aidan stands to present himself to his noble guest.
Aidan waits for the formalities to pass by them, tipping his head to the other to show respect to the Lord, stepping forward with a hand gesturing back toward the seats, "It is no trouble Lord Kerrigan. Come in, have a seat." There's a moment where he waits for his guest to get settled before he asks, "And how are you fairing these days Lord Kerrigan?" Even if they don't really have an acquaintable past, the sentiment is asked all the same.

"I fare better than can be expected for an old man like myself, Your Grace, and am grateful for it. And yourself? I hope I do not impose upon you in the midst of more pressing concerns." Lord Rinder adds, "And I will not claim any more of your time and attention than necessary. I believe we both share a certain appreciation for efficiency." He tilts his head his expression still affixed to a polite smile, though there is a tinge of what seems genuine warmth to it at the same time, "I really have only two matters to discuss with you, the first not pressing at all, and the second…more so."

Aidan settles down on the cushioned seat he had prior, ensuring that the servants are offering drink and food to the visiting Lord first, before such of the same is offered to him, guest rights. "I'm in good health," he replies to how he's doing, gesturing a dismissive finger wave to being imposed on, "Let me worry about my time and your imposition on it. For now, I have made time and it is yours to speak on matters you wrote of so urgently." The mug of Chocola is brought forward, his ringed fingers tapping absently against the ceramic mug, "I appreciate efficiency, though we are not on a battle field yet, Lord Rinder, so some propriety and manner of ease can be afforded here." Case in point, drinks are offered to Rinder. Still, it would seem that Rinder has defined his own time as important as well, considering the other's age. "Speak then to these matters that interest you so," his tone tinged with curiosity, for Kerrigan's are not vassals to Kincaid's.

Rinder smiles and accepts a mug of chocola himself, savoring the aroma a moment before sipping it and commenting, "Marvelous stuff. I commend you on working so diligently to bring it to the rest of our Kingdom." Rinder gestures to the servant, who steps forward and opens the case of parchments, withdrawing several:

"As for the less pressing matter…these are copies of the current standing trade agreements that my House holds with you. All were drafted and signed before either of us came to the rule of our House, and several have not been reviewed in many decades. Given that I am likely here in Darfield for several more weeks, I thought it may be a good use of my time to see if some of them may bear revision and renegotiation that we may continue to secure mutually beneficial trade between my own house and the rest of our fair lands. Please feel free to review them at your convenience and I will be happy to address any concerns you may have."

"We keep onto trends," Aidan says in a blithe manner that speaks of his pride for the trade economy that Lakeshire has become, "Foreign or not," he includes, whilst sitting back and sipping calmly. His gaze is pensive at the case of parchments, noting the stack that is withdrawn and thereby handed over. He leans forward to accept them, listening to the explaination of what is within the writing. "Indeed, these are long standing agreements," he notices the signature of his father upon the first parchment on top, setting the mug down on the table before him to absently flip through the documents. He is familiar with them, having brushed up on them prior to the Lord Rinder appearing, having assumed much would be on the table for discussion. "It is an auspicious time to review them," he underlines, "I've already noted a section that certainly needs to be revised before the year is up." A tone which suggests might be less than favourable to Lord Rinder, "Granted that, I'll need a few more days now to consider them properly and give you a proper assessment." A momentary pause, "And of your other matter?"

"My other matter is more simple, and infinitely more complicated." Rinder replies with a smile, either not noticing the implication of ill favour or simply choosing to ignore it. If Aidan's done any inquiring at all he'll know the Lord of Ashenfell is known as a shrewd negotiator. "My eldest son and heir remains unmarried, and I seek suitable prospects that may remedy that situation. Possibly for my youngest son, as well, who is also of an age to marry." Rinder leans back sipping at the Chocola now and looking thoughtful, "My House has often been…a silent partner to the Haraveans, and content ourselves with the simple fulfillment of duty and responsibility over the pursuit of glorious deeds and greater influence. As such, we have intermarried most often with our closest neighbors, and often when it comes to our male line there is a tendency to be…overlooked. Not so with our daughters, but they are a rare prize. My own will shortly wed Count Aldren, as I'm sure you're aware." He smiles with considerable pride at that, "Still, we are known for bringing forth the fruits of the earth, and if you will pardon a farming analogy…when plant trees too close together, neither will bear the fullest bounty of fruit that they might otherwise be capable of. I believe your own lands are well accustomed to the strength that can be found in a degree of…diversity?"

There are old contracts that simply can no longer be met with the same value as the world had seen to many decades prior to their time. Supply and demand is the name of the game and it is unlikely for the expenses to be on the same page as in other days. Kincaid's are known to be of the best negotiators as well, in accordance to the prosperity of their lands. Either way, such deeds will be scrutinized by both parties in such a way that many take many back and forth correspondances before settlement is agreed to. A marriage negotiation is certainly more profound by leaps and bounds, the complications with them endless. Aidan is thoughtful at the implication of the eldest Kerrigan heir being in need of prospects. The youngest son simply gets an disinterested gesture. Second sons apparently will not do and that was a gesture of don't waste my time, subtle, but strong enough to be understood. He moves to nibble on some of the cheeses and foreign pastries brought in, listening to the older man as Rinder shows his cards. "Indeed, my compliments for your ability to negotiate with the young Count. Congratulations is in order," his tone simple and with a hint of sincerity, though there is no secrets that Lady Faerinia had been interested in the Count all the same, perhaps pressed in such a direction by Aidan himself. The last has him nod, "Indeed, we've a bit of every tree in us, if I were to look back." Now this is where his pride shows, "Diversity is the key to founding larger trees which bear the best fruit, to keep along with your analogy." Kilgours, Ruxton's, Crawfords, Forresters, Laniveer's, Kundari's, and many many more can be traced and pin pointed as found in the family tree. Aidan leans forward a bit, "As you say, our daughters are a boon, a gift to our houses. Though so too, our nieces and cousins."

Lynette has spent most of her day deep within study of some sort of another that her maid felt without very beneficial for her. Which truly it is but when Lynette has to sit in one place for too long it can cause a good amount of havoc, especially for her dear maid Anna. The older woman is beside herself but knows to keep quiet, tongue in cheek so to speak while Lynette and the older woman are making their way into the room. Lyne has on a rather lovely dress, light blues with silver trim across the neckline that travels down the slightly snug bodice with a set of little buttons down the center. The sleeves of the dress are long, flowing and slightly held within the young woman's hands as she walks so they do not drag upon the ground, the skirt length is long. Her hair is pulled back in a tight braid, ribbons of silver curl through her hair and tuck back into the braid. There was word that someone was meeting with her father, but as no one stopped her from entering she feels that it is alright for her to join in so to speak.

Lord Rinder listens intently to Aidan's words, nodding a bit and sipping from the mug of Chocola, "Daughters have ever been rare in my line. A peculiarity of our blood, it seems, or perhaps some whim of the Gods, but I am sure you treasure yours no less than I, Your Grace." Rinder sips the chocola again then sets the mug down, leaning forward a bit himself, "If you will pardon me speaking frankly, I have no illusions of my position, Your Grace. Mine is-" He pauses as Lynette enters, glancing towards her as a polite smile again spreads across his face. He looks then to Aidan, to make any introductions if he sees fit, or for some indication that he wishes the conversation to continue with the Lady present.

"No less," Aidan retorts firmly, to make it clear that son or daughter, both are seen as equal import in his house. It's the way of the Kincaid's. There is a polite smile that suggests his continued interest however, to hear of what Rinder has in mind, other than needing his eldest to find a prospect. As the guest cometh to his household, it is Rinder who gets to open the negotiations, as it is. "My kin do well, my daughter Aemy, has already had twins for Robben-" meaning that his line is proven, that the women hold strong and can get through the birthing bed. As it starts to get good, the Lord is interrupted upon seeing Lynette, so too, does Aidan's eyes swing in her direction. The servants are a muss, one wondering if an introduction should be made as the lady enters. All the same, Aidan rises from his chair, a irksome hint sent toward the servants but a delighted eye no less for Lynette, "Ahh, Lord Kerrigan, please let me introduce you to my daughter, Lady Lynette." His gesture from one to the next, hand outstretched for Lynette to join them, "Lynette, this is Lord Rinder Kerrigan, a vassal to Count Aldren Haravean. He's requested a presence to speak of a few matters of his House with ours."

Lynette catches bit of the conversation, well just the end bit for certain and most so from her father then from the other. A warm smile and polite nod is seen while she makes her way towards the pair. She sends a curious glance towards the servants while her father is the one to do the introduction, which truly she doesn't make any waves over it. Once near the pair as her father gave the 'ok' as it were to join, or at least be introduced if nothing else. She offers a slight bow, respectful for certain. "It is a pleasure to meet you Lord Kerrigan. I do hope your travels have been well in bringing you out to visit us this day." As for the conversation at hand she won't attempt to stop it that is for certain, for now she is curious.

Rinder rises to his feet, returning the Lady's bow, perhaps overly respectful, but better to err on the side of caution than not! Well, most of the time, "My Lady, the pleasure is all mine, as well as the honor." His warm, deep voice replies, "And I thank you for your consideration. My journey was indeed pleasant, though at my age even the shortest can sometimes be taxing." He smiles with a bit of humor to show he's just poking a bit of fun at himself. "Your father has been most hospitable."

Aidan regards Lynette as she presents herself to the Lord Kerrigan, a touch of approval on the Duke's lips for her counted measure in etiquette. The response also from Rinder is regarded with a keen eye, allowing the formalities to carry out until he waves them back to their seats. "Kind of you to say so," his response goes without saying is held with baritone ease, "As such for your journey, we dare not waste the opportunity Lord Rinder." He offers a seat beside him for Lynette or if she would prefer, elsewhere, but around the table and therefore involved in the conversation. "I believe you were meaning to speak frankly?" clearly meaning that he's not bothered by Lynette's position in the room.

Lynette keeps a friendly smile while she curiously watches Rinder, there is a moment of ponder before she nods and a soft chuckle escapes her. "Of course I wish you the swiftest of travels so that you will have the shortest of times between here and there." This said with a polite tone. "I'm overly pleased to hear that all has been well for since being here." Hey she can offer up some sugar coated things now and then. This perhaps being one of those moments, but she doesn't offer any reason for it to be seen at that as she seems rather truthful with her words. The offer to take a seat next to her father is taken and she turns moving to the seat and settling down upon it, her hands fold neatly upon her lap while her blue gaze dances between the two as she is curious to what else may be brought up during this conversation. Her maid sits off to the side, close enough for listening purposes for certain.

"Of course." If Rinder is discomfited by Lynette's presence, he shows no sign of it, and with the indication from Aidan to proceed, Rinder sets right to it, "My house is not a Great House, but we are strong. Our lands have had he good fortune to remain untouched by war for many generations, and have borne us much fruit, which has filled our coffers more than nearly any other house of our size. We may not have seen the greatest heights of glory, but we endure, and in so doing we have avoided the pitfalls of misfortune and scandal." Rinder comments, "But ultimately we both know that there is little in the way of tangibles that I can offer you that you cannot rather easily provide for yourself. So I am left to the less tangible…"

He reclaims the mug of chocola and sips, "My son…Shepard. I have told you that my House is not known for seeking glory for its' own sake…and yet some measure of glory seems to have found him, sought or not. He is a skilled knight and a proven commander. He showed great Valor in Weston and sat in many of the War Councils at Westgate. Call it a father's foolish sentimentality if you will, but I believe my son is destined for greater things still."

Rinder pauses a brief moment and notes, "But above all…he is a good man. One that knows a woman's value is in more than simply the children she bears, or even the family whose blood she may carry in her veins. One that would have a partner in ruling our House, and not simply an adornment." Rinder smiles a touch, "And he is a man that will be sitting at the right hand of the Haravean Count, as well as being bonded to him by the marriage of his sister."

Aidan settles back again on the chair, propping up an elbow on the arm chair so that his hand may stroke his trimmed beard, with every absent stroke given over the whiskers on his chin, the brooding nature of the Duke is pronounced. One could not tell if he is pleased or not by the offering from a lesser House, not even a direct vassal. For the entire pitch as you will, Aidan is submerged into the possibilities and the measures of such an offer. Though it is a smart man who plays to the Duke's belief that women were and could be as strong as the male counterpart in a marriage. By indication of silence, Aidan is thinking heavily upon what has been offered to him.
"Your son, Shepard, he was the one that stood by at the burnings?" That is a surprising question, though maybe he is simply trying to mark his face. The Battle of Westgate was fought over many leagues of terrain and came to a pivotial climax at the rivermouth feeding Lake Kincaid to the sea.

Lynette is quiet for a few moments as her gaze passes between her father and Rinder, there is a slight pause while she lifts a brow at the talk of the other man's son is brought up. She lets her jaw tense slightly, blue gaze narrow a touch but it is soon gone. Seems she has an idea about this conversation, especially thanks to whispering and murmurs from staff and of course her own maid. There is a pause once hearing her father speak of the burnings, which makes a slight frown cross her face but that is it while she lets her gaze lower a touch.

"Yes, Your Grace." Rinder does seem a bit surprised by the question, not even bothering to mask the expression on his face or the hint of it that laces his tone. "He stood in support of Count Aldren, and of seeing justice done. Even if it was but one injustice when many others remain unanswered." He sips the Chocola once more, "I doubt he took any joy in it, but he understands that sometimes that which is necessary is not always pleasant."

There is no explanation forth coming on why he asked. To a shrewd mind it would be clear. Aidan simply places his mug of Chocola, finished now, on the table before him. Servants do their thing and dart in and out, refilling or offering more, even to Lady Lynette. Aidan raises a hand to dismiss a further refill. "A very respectable offer," he eventually says after the room had seemed to wait on his response, though it's not exactly dramatic after such a question, "My niece Lady Faerinia, or my cousin Keven's child, Lady Sorcha, would likely be agreeable to your needs, Lord Rinder."

Lynette seems a bit satisfied by the answer given from Rinder on the matter of the burnings. There is a slight glance to her father as she knows how he feels about such things though is not about to comment on the matter. Though a raise of her brow is seen once the two are put forth for possible matches and she smirks a touch. Is this a good thing, or well a bad thing? Does this mean her father has found another use for her and another person to match her with then? A slight frown is soon seen and there is a shake of her head to the servant that offers her a drink and she turns her head slightly to glance off as her mind is quickly working out the past few days. At the moment she is doing a very good 'being seen but not heard' bit at the moment. Perhaps she is ill? That is what her maid is thinking for certain.

Rinder finishes the mug of chocola and nods slightly, setting it down upon the table, "Likely they would be, Your Grace, and they are choices no doubt well worth considering." Rinder replies with all due courtesy. He'd never be so crass as to look towards Lynette in a case such as this, nor does he show so much as the slightest glimmer of disappointment in noticing that her name is not among those mentioned by the Duke. He also, as is well known thanks to the…long and colorful chain of events that led to Moira's betrothal to Aldren…is capable of a great deal of patience. "I believe my son has had occasion to meet the Lady Faerinia. I will speak with him on the matter." He smiles graciously, "You are my first such visit since my arrival, and while there is some urgency, we both of course understand that any such arrangement must still not be entered in undue haste." It's not a brush-off in the least, nor intended as anything other than a statement of simple fact. The implication that there will be other such visits in order.

There would likely have to be something of interest to Aidan for Lynette's name to be added to the list, though what that would entail is hard to say. "Indeed they are worth considering," he says with an easy calm, "Perhaps my niece a little more heavily, because the young Lord Shepard was escorting Lady Faerinia while she was absent of her maid." Implicating them both in that single thread to some unwelcomed scandal that could befall both their houses. "I would take it he has an interest in her from that brazen act alone," he looks towards Lynette once, as if to see how she was holding up to her father talking so non-committal like about the women in their household. There is a smile returned, shrewd at that, but polite and not at all disfavourable for the chanced opportunity to speak of such possibilities. "Then I am honoured," Aidan tips his head, "and while I agree with you about the measure of haste, War is brewing Lord Rinder. There is no telling who will ride out and not come back, thus, we are in need of some haste in these days of night." A shared implication that he was open to further visits, undoubtedly.

Lynette knows very well why her name was not on that list. Much like the lucky charm her father carries with her she is a pawn to his game. What can he get to better the family, the house? That is what she is there for, to the biggest bidder so to speak. She's known this for some time now, and it is a thought that wears on her, as it is this moment. Her gaze lingers on some point off to the side while the comments are tossed between the pair. A faint glance is sent towards her father at the comment upon Faerinia and her 'brazen' moment, if he wants to see such things she could certainly foot that bill. She has in the past after all. As for how she is holding up, she seems just fine, sitting quietly, and hands still upon her lap while she gives her father a slight look as it was. The talk of war causes her to frown a touch over such things and she shakes her head.

"You will have to forgive my son, Your Grace. He would have found it a far more grave matter to leave a noble Lady unescorted in the midst of a festival. He of course informed me of your brief meeting, hence my knowledge of their acquaintance. To hear him tell it, they have spoken briefly on two occasions and shared a dance, the most shameful aspect of it all being his uncharacteristically poor performance of the latter." There's no heat nor even a hint of defensiveness to his tone, and even a touch of humor. He either does not fear potential scandal or finds it unlikely the tale would stick. "But regardless, I assure you that both of the Ladies you have mentioned will be considered most diligently, Your Grace." Which is entirely true, even as he adds, "As of course we would consider any other names you may put forth now or in the future, should my son remain unmarried until then."

Aidan actually laughs at the response from Rinder. He was being decidedly vague on the manner of Shepard's brazen escourt for a reason and that reason comes around full force, which earns the approving laugh of the Duke. So uncharacteristic in his negotiations that some of the servants flinch. "Next time I believe you should bring your son, Lord Rinder," he says with a good natured smile flitting across his expression. That said, he nods and lifts up from the seat, as if business at hand was complete for the evening. "I appreciate the thought given to our House for the match of your son and if he finds a prospect before we next speak, I wish him the best of luck," he encourages Lynette to stand up as well, "I will send my revisions to the trade agreements within the week and perhaps then we will find ourselves the opportunity afforded to speak again." He steps around the table and makes to give his hand to the other, "The best of health to you Lord Rinder."

Lynette lets her gaze dance from one to another, names.. Other names? She isn't sure whom else could be tossed into it other than well herself. Perhaps there are some other cousins floating around that she doesn't know of. She shifts to stands following her father; her warm smile is seen once more while she offers a slight curtsy now to Rinder. "Again, it was a pleasure to have you visit us. As I'm sure my father would agree we will be looking forward to your next visit." Her arms rest neatly before her, hands clasped within one another while she lifts her head just a touch. "I do wish you a swift and safe trip Lord Rinder."

Rinder returns the smile, the fatherly warmth that seems to cling to the man incessantly quite apparent as he rises to his feet, placing hand to his chest and lowering his eyes respectfully, "Again, you have my thanks for your time and consideration, Your Grace. I will of course await word from you an any matters pertaining to the agreements, and may indeed request audience in the company of my son next time." He looks to Lynette, still smiling, and inclines his head, "It has been a pleasure, Milady. I do thank you for your consideration." And with negotiations concluded, Rinder allows himself to be escorted back out, not looking at all displeased with the results of the meeting.

As the party of Lord Rinder and his house are definitely departed for the evening, Aidan turns back to his daughter and toward the seat he had taken earlier. "Now, if you wish me to explain anything Lynette, all you have to do is ask." He leaves it open, because she will have to one day make marriage negotiations with her husband and with any suitors at her door, should she bear children over her own. "I would've wished for your mother to be here, to aid me in this…" as she did for Aemy. That negotiation was entirely too easy on the outside. He settles down and asks for brandy to be poured.

Lynette is quiet for the moment while listening to her father, a glance offered to him while her arms fold loosely before her. The normal appearance she puts on for others slipping away as a soft breath escapes her. "What is there to explain?… Lord Rinder is searching for a possible match for his son, or sons even. Just depends on who has the bigger bribe in this regards to who gets who." There is a slight pause before she shakes her head. "Dare I be able to ask whom you could be asking for about myself? Seeing how my name wasn't brought up in that little conversation." Yes she is questioning her father on this matter, he ask after all, in a sense.

"The bigger bribe?" He seems amused by that prospect, yet it is really what it all came down to. Who had the most to give and get for the acquisition of … a lady. He rubs his forehead with his fingers, drawing lines over his forehead and running his finger pad across the length and arch of his brow, "Must you be quite so much like your mother?" His lips curl into a quiet smile, one that still aches of her loss to be sure. His gaze rises toward Lynette, "Your name wasn't on that list because all he could offer me is his son, a son of a lesser House to that arrogant Haravean." He apparently isn't too keen on Aldren, "He has to think smarter to get your name on his list." His fingers roll away from his forehead, sighing softly, "I mean to see you a Duchess." And there's not many duchies to consider, Weston or Sutherland… and with the ships reportedly sailing to Sutherland from Lakeshire, those dots were easy to connect.

Lynette nods a touch while lifting her head slightly. "Yes, the bigger bribe. Who can bring the bigger stick to the table so to speak." Stick, yes a stick! There is a pause as he brings up her mother, a slight frown seen as she takes in a soft breath at the thought. There has been many of times she has thought about her mother, many times it brought her to tears when she was on her own out of sight where she could have a moment to herself. Though she soon clears her throat. "Someone has to be around to be a thorn in your said father." This said with a soft tone, faint smile seen as she moves to sit down upon her seat once more. "I understand that I'm not saying that I was to be on the list but still." She doesn't even know this Shepard. As for the House Haravean there is a faint shake of her head seen. "I understand how you feel on Horse Haravean." There is a pause at the Duchess part and she watches her father a few moments. She may not be a soldier, or someone high up but she can still find out things, like the ships sailing to Sutherland. "A Duchess to whom?" She'll have to add in the dots it seems.

"The bigger stick isn't always the best stick—" he remarks, staying with her analogy of sticks, why is it always wood? Rinder used trees. He gives a bit of a smirk, "It's the quality of the stick offered and what roots that stick came from. If we were to look at House Kerrigan, what really does that house offer to Kincaid for you? For your niece or your cousin? It offers to be the wife of a Lord of a lesser House, whose steadfast loyal to House Haravean. Loyal enough to watch their liege Lord burn people alive at the stake and call it -justice-…" He frowns, knowing his background in law, he is clearly against the burning. Only the Temples liked to burn people and it ought to stay that way, to keep regular men from thinking they had the right of gods. "Ahh, good, I have a lot of thorns in my side, from your brothers to your nieces, to your nephews and all of our cousins." He shakes his head a little, a fondness for his family but the burden of seeing them all well off is a tiresome task. "We have not had marriage alliances with Haravean for decades…" and for good reason, but he doesn't get into it as much, save for, "They want too much for what little they have to offer." He jams his hand into his pocket and grabs out the knight piece, his lucky charm, rolling around in the palm of his hand, "Sutherland, potentially. We have to wait and see if his other prospects succeed or not."

Lynette happens to likes gardens, trees, so sticks work, at least for the moment. She is quiet for a few moments as she takes that he. Yes he has a point on the whole house debate but the point is she doesn't want to be used as some prize for who can give over the bigger stick. "That is what his father said, one should not be held to the talk of their father's ask him the same question. What would you have him do? Stop the burning before the Queen herself? If he did so he would have most certainly earned him a spot to be burned as well. I have a feeling /anyone/ that would have spoke out would have found the same fate." Or you know perhaps poisoned, knocked off a horse. "It is indeed the quality of the stick, and thus the roots. It's not always the biggest tree that carries with it the best fruits, sometimes it is the smaller trees that have the fruit that is most eagerly searched for." She reaches out to lightly touch her father's arm. "You know I would not honestly stay a thorn in your side father." Her father does cause her some headaches like any parent would, but in the end she would only wish to see him happy. Her fingers slide away and she blinks a moment before peering at him. "Sutherland?" This is questioned with a slight shake of her head seen. "I thought you wished to not have trees so close to home."

"Think of it this way child," he tells her daughter as if to make the picture more clear, "The only man on that dias with the Count Haravean, and the Queen, was Shepard Kerrigan." He tilts his head, "Now for a man to have -that- much influence to be recognized to stand with his liege Lord, means he has the ear of the Count. And to have the ear is influence. In this, he could've influenced his liege Lord to use the block or the noose - more traditional methods for criminals." He lets that settle, "Therefore, I have to really consider if the boy has any influence at all with the Count or if he's just another 'yes man.' … And if he's either, how much weight could one of the Kincaid women have?" His thoughts were running deep, evidently. "In the end, if we married into Kerrigan, would our Kincaid lady be strong enough to use her husband to bend the Count's ear?" He rolls the knight in his palm, looking at the marble stone in his hand, black with hints of silver in it. From a gameboard specifically made for the House Kincaid. He looks over at Lynette, smirking as she goes on about fruits, putting an arm around her, "You're not a thorn in my side Nette," he will keep his arm there, if she'll let him, comfortable in showing a bit of parental affection for the moment. "Yes, to Ronan Crawford," the name a close relation, "In this planting, we would help restore what has been burned to the ground. If Ronan wants the support of his bloodlines to keep it strong, he will have it. Though, like I said earlier, it is only a prospect for you…" He understands her frustrations, "I realize it's not what you would want, but we must consider what contracts we can make before your brother becomes Duke." That, is a harsh sentiment.

Lynette lifts her head a touch while curiously watching her father. "There are other ways to influence someone. Though there needs to be a right moment in order to do such a thing." She points out. "Do you honestly think a Kincaid woman could not figure out a way to twist someone's ear?" This questioned while she lifts a brow and eyes her father, a faint smirk seen. "Seeing how Lord Kincaid came to you, spoke with you on this matter perhaps you should speak with his son yourself, sort of a surprised conversation? That way you may get the answers for certain. You would also then be able to find out if he was worth of anyone from our house." Well it is a thought, and truthfully if he wished to offer up anyone that would be the next step perhaps. There is a soft smile seen at the slight hug from her father which means she leans closer to him for a few moments at least. The name that is given makes her pause and she quietly watches him before a faint breath escapes her and she leans away, her hands settle upon her lap and she frowns now. "It is not what I want" He knows that better than anyone, though what does she want? Truthfully she isn't that sure for the moment. At the part of her brother taken over and being Duke her gaze flicks towards her father while she frowns once more. "I wish you would not say it like that father." There is a moment as Anna comes over whispering to her before the maid is moving to the door, Lyn takes in a soft breath before standing and looks to her father for a few moments. "We will speak more later Perhaps?" She doesn't wish to keep him either knowing that the talk with Lord Kincaid did last for a spell after all.

"Yes, there are," he acknowledges what she has to say with a tilt of his chin, "I believe she could but it's a matter of determining how and what strengths her husband can lend her her as well as her to him. I would wish for Aemy's success to be yours and those of your cousins." Though all in due time. "It wouldn't be hard for me to speak to young Shepard, now that his father has given me cause to do so." As for what questions needed to be asked, well, more so on philosophies perhaps and beliefs, justifications for what he's done or committed to doing. Her admission that she didn't want marriage - which Kincaid girl did - makes him smirk, "You know my dear girl, you're intelligent enough to know that society expects you to take on a husband. Though that doesn't mean I would ever wish you to simply be for just child bearing. I want to give you girls a chance to flex the strengths each of you have. Greenshire… it has potential for you Lynette. The woods, the freedom, the hunting. Their customs are… something you would find favouring." He's not going to lie about that, Greenshire had the rangers and pride in archery was strong. "And as for Ronan, well, he needs a strong woman to help him. He was the younger son, not raised for being a Duke. He'll need a wife who was raised to be a Duchess." That explains his choice, "And of course, the long standing ties to Crawford… I need the world to know Kincaid supports Crawford." He sighs and looks over at Lyn, "I need you girls married, so he doesn't ruin your life as he is bound to ruin the Duchy." He -really- has no faith in Hadrian at all. He dismisses the talk of Hadrian with a wave of his hand, "Yes. Of course."

Lynette nods slightly while a soft smile is offered to her father, her hand moving to rest upon his shoulder lightly. She is young still, marriage is something for 'older people' at least that is what she thinks on at the time being. "Yes father that I know well of what society expects of me." She always was one to buck at what other's wanted though, finding her own path if at all able. The talk of Greenshire does make her pause at the thought, well of course he would use that aspect of it and make her interested. "Do you honestly think he would allow me that freedom?" She gets the feeling few men would approve of her hobbies. Her hand lowers, a slight nod offered to the bit on Ronan while she takes in a soft breath. "I'm sure that is very true." This said with a soft tone at the idea of such things. Perhaps then she will meet this Ronan, someone she never thought of in such a manner. "Father Don't let your thoughts of Hadrian goes so black. He is your son, my brother There is strength within him and he will find it I am certain of that." She can hope! There is a moment where she leans close to give her dear father a quick hug and is then moving off to follow her maid. "Have a good evening father."


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