Cri 22, 229: Moniwid Matters

Moniwid Matters
Summary: Emerit pays Roslin a visit at the Sutherland Suite, receives an offer and learns a new detail about the marriage annulment.
OOC Date: 23/04/2014 (OOC)
Related: Considering Consequences and Null and Void
Roslin Emerit 
Sutherland Suite, Darfield Castle
The Apartments that have been assigned to the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland smells faintly of mint and roses, and the windows are kept open, allowing in natural light and fresh air into the apartments. The rooms are decent-sized and there are finely woven tapestries that have been hung from the stone walls. Exotic carpets sit on the stone floor instead of rushes there are carpets which offer warmth and a splash of color.
One room is a finely and ornately decorated sitting room. The room has been decorated with hard wood and heavy furniture that has brocade upholstery and comfortable cushions. There is also a loom that sits in the corner next to a large fireplace; there is a sitting area round a small table where meals can be taken.
22nd day of Cri, in the year 229

Roslin is a busy woman. Clerking for the Royal Magistrate, seeing to the Duchy of Sutherland while her husband is away, and naturally all of her social engagements. So it is little surprising that she should be spending the morning and the afternoon in the Sutherland Attache office. She is just as regal and fine as she always was, even pale as she is now when washed out by the black of mourning for her parents. She has gained a bit of weight since marriage, and the effect makes her look older, more womanly. A few servants move about the rooms on various tasks save for in Caitlyn's old room, which remains locked. A friend visiting would happily be shown in immediately.

Emerit is not so busy as the Duchess can claim to be. In fact, she looks not very much in a hurry, nor is there that sparkle in her moss green eyes that was so significant of her some time ago; when she is shown in by a servant, Yulanda entering a few steps behind her, perhaps more of an old habit. "Your Grace," the fiery haired young maiden greets while she lowers herself into a curtsey. Her attire is more modest than it used to be, a dress of dark blue devoid of any adornments. Her hair is tamed into a braid. "Her highness, the Princess Draventa mentioned you wished to see me?", she inquires with a faint smile. "It has been some time, Your Grace, since last time we spoke." And many things have happened indeed since then.

At the sight of Emerit, Roslin is happy to set all things aside. They are nearly forgotten as she rises to greet the other woman. "Oh my dear," Roslin says, sounding happy and relieved as she steps over with her hand extended. She will take Emerit's hands in her own, if the other will allow. "Im so sorry," She says, her smile turning apologetic. "I have been such a neglectful friend. Truly horrid. Come in, sit down, and let me e deavor to find a way that you might forgive me." She gestures. "I am surprised you would be here today, after my conversation with Draventa last night."

That faint smile will grow in intensity when Emerit feels herself being urged to sit down. "Oh, it is hardly my place to be wroth at you. I suspected, it had something to do with those revelations, about the late Grand Duke. But I am glad you still consider me a friend", she replies her lips still curved into a smile, before she arches a brow in surprise at Roslin's last remark. "What conversation? Last time I spoke with Princess Draventa she mentioned you wished to see me. But that has been a few days ago."

"Oh Emerit," Roslin scolds as she sits. "I would think you know me well enough to know that such matters are of little importance when it comes to someone such as yourself." No, she won't hug commoners off the street. But Emerit is still special. Roslin takes a cup of wine, and then the servant offers the same to Emerit. "Well if you havent heard, Draventa and I had something of a disagreement last night. She and Lady Lynette were looking over plans for the shrine - I want to finally get building started, and Draventa asked me if I had asked what the Gods wanted. I laughed and told her that the Gods do not favor me as they do her, and said that if the Gods don't like it they shall have to make that known. She took great offense to this, I think, and accused me of speaking like my brother Tyrel." She sips her wine. "I assume this was meant to be insulting, from the way it was said, and I took offense. Draventa also alluded to some private family difficulties that Logen had no doubt shared with her. Lady Lynette agreed with her, so perhaps I was in the wrong, but all I could see is that they both wished nothing done unless the Gods asked for it, and Draventa seemed more inclined to give control of it all to the temple." Roslin sighs and sips her wine. Her tone and slightly relaxed posture are just as they have always been when these two talk of any matters. "We parted unhappily, I'm afraid. I blame Ronan for it, really. His temper is rubbing off on me."

Emerit smiles and nods at Roslin's reassuring words and accepts the offered cup of wine with a grateful nod. Then listening pensively to what the Duchess has to say about the disagreement. "That is a sore point," she remarks, to noone in particular. "I feel she has lost some of what she had gained, after that incident at the temple. I feel her eyes have lost their sparkle,…" Many seem to have these days. "I am not sure if you know what I mean, but… She seemed so confident, and then, after her head got hurt… as if your Gods had removed that blessing they had bestowed upon her." The red-haired girl seems to be lost in her thoughts, still her gaze expresses nothing but concern for the Moniwid Princess. "You must forgive her. She has been through a lot lately. Her nerves are tacky, and rightfully so. Still. I am sorry you two got into that disagreement. And I hope you two will reconcile, Roslin."

"I daresay we shall," Roslin says with a shrug. "I know times for her have been exceptionally difficult now. But I was still rather wounded to learn her low opinion of me, and that she would speak on private family matters in such a way." Another sip of wine is taken. "But then I imagine neither you nor she is happy with Tyrel, now. And yet I can understand why he did what he did. He meant to free Draventa from her toxic marriage the only way he could think of." Her face softens. "In doing so I understand that he put you in a terrible, unthinkable position. And yet I think we are all agreed that further marriage to my brother may well have destroyed your sister. I had hoped, in time, she would find pleasure in her new independence, as woman of means, tied to no one and with no demands upon her. I offered her a place in Trueborn for you both to call your own, depending how things come to pass. That she might find some peace in ruling her own life, awhile."

Her forehead will wrinkle a touch at the repeated mention of 'family matters', her frown will deepen at the mention of the King. "He did, indeed?", Emerit inquires, her manner suddenly no longer calm and subdued. "Freed her of a marriage…? Which is perhaps what he has done… But at what cost? So it was all nothing but a pretext to end it, after all? And…" Her voice seems to fail her, for a moment before she continues, with a shaky voice: "As far as I know the matter was presented in a different light to the Grand Duke. In a way, that may probably not have been the most… clever choice." The Mist of the Island falls silent, her hands clenching into fists before her. It is after a moment that she lowers her gaze. "I thank you for your kind offer, but I… am not sure I am in a position to accept it." Her lips pressed tightly shut, forming a line.

"I will not say it was elegantly done, my dear,"Roslin says, leaning forward to touch Emerit's leg a moment. "But I know my brother and how his heart bleeds for women in unjust circumstances. I believe he watched Draventa unhappy and saw Logen getting no better and he acted." She retakes her hand. "Whatever else may be happening, I believe that with all my heart and soul. My mother adored your sister, enough to make me a touch jealous. She charged both Tyrel and myself to see her protected." Roslin settles back in her seat. "She is not the first woman to come out of an annulled marriage. Nor the last. Many have lived a myriad of lives - as wives, mothers, women of independent livings. It may seem a great burden to bear now, but when the time comes for Draventa to feel ready to wed again there shall be no shortage of happy suitors. And my idiot brother will be living out in the country somewhere, if we are fortunate." She motions for another glass of wine. "But tell me what is happening with you, what the Grand Duke has said, and how you are faring."

Emerit keeps her gaze lowered for a moment, nodding slowly as she hears what Roslin has to say. "She was not feeling well, but I do not know about the reasons," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, watching the hands in her lap for a moment, before she raises her gaze. "I wonder what kind of reaction the King expects, though. Has he paid any mind to… political consequences this might have? Has he voiced his concern for Princess Draventa's well-being at all? Because from what I have heard, the annulment was blamed exclusively on… me not being what everyone - including myself - was led to believe?" A shiver ripples across her shoulders now, as if that weight has been resting upon her ever since the marriage was dissolved. "I am still waiting for word from Rustles Isle, and the longer I wait, the more I worry, that Grand Duke Mantilo Moniwid will not take it lightly. He will notify me what is to become of me, I am sure. So…" A deep sigh leaves her as she leans back in her chair. "…you will not be surprised to hear, I am not faring that well, Your Grace." Choosing once again the formal address.

"If he has not considered the political consequences of his actions he deserves what he gets," Roslin says with a firm nod. "I anticipate that he desired to act, but saw no way to. Unless I am mistaken, there has been no abuse of the Princess, nothing like that. Nothing to allow him to make such a move until word of your lineage came through. And I think he could not blame my mother for arranging the match. His heart … could not. And if my brother was so unsuitable, it falls at her feet for all of this. And she is dead, unable to speak in her own defense on the matter." Roslin's eyes glance down a moment. "But none of that is why I wished you here today. If the worst should happen, with the Grand Duke…I am sorry to even speak of it in this way at such a time." She leans forward to take Emerit's hand if the woman will allow it. "Come to me, my dear, and I will do all in my power to see that wherever you land, you are happy, and respected, and no one forgets that you are deserving of awe and praise not only because of your upbringing but because of your abilities. If the choice falls to you and you do not wish to return to Rustles Island, you do not need to fear. You are not and shall never be alone. You are my dearest friend, and I will not allow it."

Emerit sits there in silence for a moment, after Roslin has finished her speech. Her moss green eyes looking down at her hands again. "What a mess all of this turned out to be," she sighs, shaking her head as she raises her gaze again towards Roslin. "And even if I should be concerned about my future right now,… I am not! These past weeks I have been hardly able to sleep, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. If I could have prevented any of this from happening…" She inhales deeply, trying to keep the emotions within her at bay. "When it is Mantilo's decision regarding your alliance that I fear for… I am of no significance. Not anymore." And with that said she reaches out for Roslin's hand and squeezes it gently. "I thank you for your kind offer. It means a lot to me, that you would still want to have me around. I will consider your offer. But I can't really decide until my… His Royal Highness the Grand Duke has let me know how he will deal with the new information."

Roslin nods, as sympathetically as she can. "The Alliance falls to the men who make the decisions, not the Ambassadors that arrange them. Even in your full situation there was only ever so much to be done." Roslin sets her wine cup aside and puts both hands with Emerit's one. "And Alliances have risen and fallen over less. What is done is done now, and I think in the end Draventa will have a happier life for it. And if the Grand Duke truly shares our fear of a continent controlled by the Laniveer he will join us to stop it, marriage or no. Tyrel worded his letter as such that both parties are likely to find equal fault in the other, and in that equality both may find a way to move beyond it." She smiles wider. "And as for you, I will see you protected, from my brother if need be. There are ways for such things, and Tyrel respects my opinion on these types of matters." Moniwid matters.

"I can only hope he did," Emerit replies, in regards to Tyrel's letter. "I am not aware what he wrote, I just learned the news, and the official reason given. As I won't see the letter Mantilo will write back to the King. He will write me as well though, I am sure. He used to be quite fond of me back then…" Her voice trails off again, and she sighs. "Again. I thank you." The smile returns, as she moves to rise from the seat. "I only wish we could bring those days back,… You remember, how we two sat together, sixteen-year-olds discussing politics so gleefully, as if it were some delightful game. To be honest… I am tired of it. Mayhaps I should practice my needlework, to become a good wife - for someone." Frowning slightly at the thought, then as her gaze finds Roslin, her hand moves to cover her mouth muffling the giggle that escapes her. "A terrible fate indeed! Forgive me."

"Those days shall come again," Roslin promises. "Although perhaps we shall be 17, and wiser then. But you shalln't be wasting your talents on needlework, that I promise you. Perhaps not politics, but one such as yourself is far too important to go to waste." Roslin reaches over to lift Emerits chin a little, to bring her head higher. "Do not fear, for even if your relations with your brother cannot continue just as they were, he shall not forget his affections. Your fate, like Draventa's is not quite so grim as it seems now." She smirks with the other woman's giggle. "Indeed. Life is hard enough without you punishing yourself with needlework. Times, I think, are not yet so dire as all that."

Some warmth enters the young pale and freckled face of Emerit Moniwid, as she feels her chin lifted to meet Roslin's gaze. "Aye," she replies. "I can only hope so." Her gaze drops to her fingers. "I fear I was not born to become the best tailor nor a master of embroidery. I am eager for other options." Her demeanour much lighter now than when she had entered, the Mist of the Island rises gracefully to her feet. "Still… maybe we can… push our luck now and then, as an excuse to engage in… chatter and conversation. Roslin." The address leaving her lips with a warm smile, as she inclines her head.

"Do not worry for other options," Roslin says with a slow smile. "There shall be plenty fitting your talents set before you, when the time comes." The Duchess sighs and she moves to stand. "But you must forgive me. I have a meeting with my husband's Steward to see to. But you shall come by again, and soon, I hope?"

"I most certainly will!", Emerit replies, her lips curving even more into that smile now. "And so far I am still allowed at the Moniwid Suite. You will be most welcome there as well," she says, until her hand moves upto cover her mouth. "I mean… I would be happy if you should want to pay a visit." Her steps are much lighter as she moves towards the door - as are the steps of Yulanda, when the smile on Emerit's face finds an echo on that of her handmaiden, before the door closes behind them.

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