Sess 40, 229: The Difference A Year Makes

The Difference A Year Makes
Summary: Senga and her nephew discuss her daughter and she worries him spoiled by this recent trend of love-marriages.
OOC Date: 26/03/2014
Related: Some
Treasure Kierne Senga 
Kincaid Suite - Darfield Castle
Kincaid Suite
Sess 40, 229

Kierne seems well recovered by now from his injuries; having decked himself in all his armor yesterday for the coronation, now he's back in his doeskin trousers and baggy red tunic, bothering the handmaidens with friendly conversation verging on the flirtatious without quite crossing the line over into actual advances. He sends them scattering to their chores, all a-titter, but for Treasure, whose burnt, scarred flesh seems to have provided her some immunity against the giggle disease which so many young girls come down with. So he talks with her at some greater length, asking after his cousin Faerinia, asking whether she'd heard of the announcements made at the coronation, and so on, and so forth.

Tis a fine line Senga Kincaid walks. Indulging in her husband's congratulations on securing such a position. On the other hand, maintaining a cool demeanor for business' sake. At the moment, she's between the two, stepping into the sitting room with her handmaid on her heels in a flurry of constrained intent as she heads to her lady's rooms. Though it leaves her looking to Kierne with the other girls dispersing quickly, except for Treasure. Nodding politely to the young girl, dark eyes turn to Kierne with the slightest twitches of lip at the corner. "Nephew. I see that you are feeling better and yesterday was not just a brief moment of pretending."

Treasure can take a hint; she lowers herself into a short bob of a curtsey to her Lady's mother, then bustles on along her business while Kierne goes to greet his Blessed Aunt with a boyish smile and a filial kiss upon the cheek, just as sweet and innocent as when he was a little boy— or perhaps a little bit more so. One hopes he has learned to kiss the handmaidens with a little bit more passion. "My dear, blessed Aunt. No; to be honest I'd felt well enough to walk about some days now, but the tyrants down in the infirmary had kept me prisoner until the day of the coronation. Ah, well. It's better to be safe, I suppose. And I owe a great deal to their care. Did Faerinia tell you they cut me open again?"

"No. But then again, I try not to pry much into Faerinia's work as a healer unless she wishes to tell me." Spoken in explanation even as the kiss upon her cheek draws a wry smile, Senga glances over at Kierne - this time with a look clearly of an aunt making sure all is truly and undoubtedly well. "It gives her independence in whatever manner she can have and for you? It means that I have not set my attention upon you too much." Pausing for a moment, she continues, "Two times? Whatever for?" That asked, she gestures to the seats if he's inclined. Though she moves for a time near the smaller tables and chairs, enjoying whatever respite she might find. "And if that was the case, I see why they kept you in the infirmary with the others."

Kierne does spend a lot of time with his cousin. And/or her handmaiden. They sort of come as a set, after all. "Well, the first thing that cut me open was an axe," Kiki banters amiably with his aunt about the disaster, dulling the tragedy as well as he can by pasting a smile over it. "And they stitched me back up in the aftermath, but it turns out I was still bleeding, inside, which was why I was in so much pain. Do you know Prince Logen's priest, Valarius? He was the one to diagnose my condition, and he took a very small blade to my person, and bled the excess blood from me." It's a delightful conversation for teatime, isn't it? He settles in across from his aunt. "He made this paste, almost as a plaster, and he took a daub of it and placed it where I bled, within. It was the oddest thing, to feel his hand inside me. I was awake all the while. Isn't progress a magnificent thing?"

Indeed. They do spend an obvious amount of time together, evident by Senga's seating herself with her gaze settling on Kierne with a slow shake of her head. "You sound like my daughter. She, seems to enjoy the prospect of healing from the hands on application far more than I did." Tea? Not likely. Just a pause in an otherwise eventful day. "I think that I have not met Priest Valarius. Yet." Amended with interest enough, she presses her lips together to remark, "It sounds as if he is also quite skilled to have saved your life. Does your father also know of this effort?"

"She has a mind for it, keen as the knife itself," Kierne will say, of his cousin. Perhaps he thinks he's being quite clever in his little love-affair. Indeed, outside of the family, it's probably not much of a matter for comment that Kierne should visit with his cousin so frequently. Within the family it may well seem odd. Even odder, given the strange and horrific appearance of the handmaiden in question. "I think him to be a good man, though I will admit I may be biased in his favor, given the circs," he chuckles, then, features growing grim, "I don't know what it is my father knows," a certain coolness overtaking him. "Do you suppose that I should write to him?"

Whatever thoughts Senga may have about the handmaiden, she doesn't voice them. Not now and who know when exactly. For now, she contents herself with comfortable perch in one of the chairs, hands smoothing the fabric of her gown comfortably before answering, "We agree on that, quite well. Tell me.." There's clearly a question forming but for who? "Has Faerinia mentioned anything of preferences for marriage? Much less yourself. If Hadrian can finally decide on courting a young girl, then surely I cannot be as blind as some might think. As for your father?" The coolness is aptly noted but not reacted to. "That, is entirely up to you, dear nephew. Still, I would think that he would be glad to know that your life was saved by a quick thinking priest."

"Do you think so?" Kierne doesn't seem sure of it, himself. It's not exactly a secret within the family that Kierne and his father don't much get on. It's the curse of the Kincaids, which only Daune seems to have somehow escaped, for fathers and sons to be at odds with one another. "To speak honestly with you, blessed Aunt, as far as she's given to me to understand, she wishes nothing to do with marriage. Of course, people often say things of the sort who don't mean it, but I think her work is more important to her than the business of beginning a family."

Senga has yet to see any of Aidan's sons get along with him, frankly. If only that were the same between mother and daughter. "Honestly speaking," she notes in echo of Kierne's words. "I gave her the option of not marrying and becoming a spinster, outright. /She/ seemed to dislike the prospect and is agreeable to the prospect of marriage. I suppose the question would be - does she or does she not wish to marry? Even now." Laying that on the table, there's a small smile which tugs at her lips that lends itself to neither amusement or wryness. Humorless, she continues, "I wonder which way she truly feels and if she takes after her father or myself in that."

"Ah, but surely you and Uncle Arlan were happily wed," Kiki bids his aunt assure him with some more of that childlike innocence of spirit. "Perhaps she will wish to marry when she finds the person who will take her heart's fancy, but not 'til then. If there is no pressing matter to it, why must she decide right now?" he goes on to ask.

"Because it is different for women than men when it comes to marriage," Senga replies, without hesitation as she considers her nephew to see if he's feigning or really is that innocent. "There have been a great deal of love matches when it comes to marriages as of late, but it not always that way. Deluding yourself otherwise would be a mistake. Should she get older where childbearing is a danger, then would it really be wise to marry? As it stands, it means that Daune will be pushed forward first. He is, after all, of age and in a position where security would have to be made with the rumors of war." Frank, there's no hiding some logic. Her own marriage? Notably not mentioned or elaborated upon.

"But surely my tender cous is not so old that this next year will do more harm than this last one has," Kierne brings up in counter-argument. "A great many things can happen in a year," he reasons. "I suppose my father will suggest a bride for me, one day. I don't much mind, myself, but that I feel sorry she'll have to put up with me," he laughs. "Or else I'll go die on the field of war and won't have to bother with anything of the sort."

"You are right," Senga remarks, moving to stand once spotting the dark brown hair of her own handmaiden peeking out from the hallway which leads to their respective rooms. "In that a lot can change in a year's time. Even if she does not marry, it never hurts anything to look at prospective matches. Those seem to be changing quite frequently. Perhaps, once you're older with a family of your own it will make sense. For now, I should see what Mirabeth needs to tell me before I go back to looking around the castle and familiarizing myself with all aspects of it. Will you be alright?" Injuries. It has to be.

"Uh-huh," Kierne rises in anticipation of his Aunt doing the same, moving to draw her chair with her should she need it drawn for her. "I'll bet you've got your plate full. If you need any help, I will be glad to be of such aid as my Lord Knight will spare me toward."

"There is a practice of delegating what you can and still being kept aware of the situations within the castle. Still, I will ask for your help should it be needed," Senga says, reaching out to give her nephew's arm a gentle pat before turning to attend to first matters of her own house.. room status. "Stay out of trouble."

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