Inouv 31, 228: The Surprise Offer

The Surprise Offer
Summary: The Queen invites Ronan to a private meeting and drops a bombshell in the Duke's lap. Needless to say, she takes him quite by surprise. Oh, and some NPC's too since the Queen wants her Lady in Waiting to pump Ronan's man servant for information!
OOC Date: 20/12/2013 (OOC)
Related: All these marriage related logs with Ronan in them lately!
Players:
Laetitia Ronan Tyrel Ciarrah 
King's Study, Darfield Castle
The room is nicely appointed but austere. Floor to ceiling bookcases dominate the walls, the many-colored spines presenting a varied but demure mosaic within the walnut frames of the shelves. On one wall, a large stone hearth presents itself, the fire always tended to drive off the chill of interior castle rooms. Above the fireplace one may view a portrait of Callem Kilgour's children.

At one end the room is a heavy oak desk, always strewn with bits of writing in progress and stacked with books. Comfortable chairs are placed almost randomly around the room, each with its own table and lamp. In one corner is a rather long, comfortable couch, upholstered in azure fabric, with a blanket of llama wool thrown over the back and several comfortable pillows at one end. From the indentations in the couch, it is clear that someone naps here frequently.

Inouv 31st, 228

A summons has been sent to Ronan, Laetitia giving one of her younger ladies the pleasure of doing so, the young woman bowing and giggling as she indicates that Ronan is requested to give company to the Queen in the Kings Study.

Upon entering Ronan would see the Queen waiting by the fireplace, in a chair that has been brought in, another one set opposite where her Lady Winifred sits idly knitting. Upon the desk is a meal that the Queen was taking part in, though it's been left for now, the Queen wanting to get down to business. She's dressed the same as earlier, sans a coat due to the heat within the room, so warm from the fire that a window has been opened.

Ronan arrives when he is summoned. He wears black, as is his custom now until a suitable mourning period has been observed again, or until he is to be wed, whichever happens first. The Duke has foregone his usual arming sword and dagger tonight as he enters the Queen's chambers, which is unusual for him, but less so when he's to meet with a woman of the Kilgours as a show of respect in their presence, if other men aren't expected to be attending.

Rosley, his man servant, attends walking in the Rioga's wake quietly. Once Ronan is fully within the study he stops and bows to his Queen, "Your Majesty, you wished to see me?" His baritone is quieter to better suite the quiet chamber.

Laetitia glances away from the fire and rises up, nodding her head to Ronan, "Duke, thank you for coming so quickly." She'll gesture to the couch for the man to sit at if he should wish to, though, she kind of made the gesture, it would be rude of him not to. Striding to the desk the Queen will lean back against it, hands folding demurely over her abdomen as she watches the man silently, waiting for him to make a move. You know, to where she indicated, and then finally "Duke Crawford, I assume that you heard of the lost ships that were to be part of the dowry, yes?" She gets right down to business, leaving the question to hang in the air.

Of course he will take the indicated seat. While he and the King may bump heads, thus far Ronan has no reason to be obstinate with the Queen, does he? The Rioga Sutherlander is mindful of his spurs that he not foul them on the couch and damage it. He tries to make himself comfortable.

"Yes, I have been made aware, though not of details. How many ships, or what condition the rest remain. It had been my intention that I would ask to retain four or five of them to keep Sutherland's coasts safer, and give over the remaining half to the King for the Mobrin navy." Ronan is tired this evening after long hours of arms practice and further difficulties upon this damned marriage alliance. He shifts his jaw, "I know not how badly this causes difficulty with my hopes for a dowry, Your Majesty. I had hope of speaking with the King."

Making a soft noise in her throat the Queen will step to the side, sliding in behind the desk to sit in the chair that nearly swallows her, leaving the petite in comparison woman looking a snowflake tucked amongst a large tree. Drawing herself up within the seat she will fold her hands atop the desk, nodding her head, "From word that my Husband King and I have received it is not good."

Relayed though the Queen will make another soft noise of acknowledgement.

"As you know the King is not seeing anyone at the moment, and so I will ..speak on his behalf on matters we have already discussed between us. Are you hard set upon the union with the Princess Nima, Duke Crawford? I know that you were reticent at first." Oh she remembers his temper indeed that day, "However my Husband King and I have been discussing an …alternative …if you would be open to a discussion of such." Even Winifred would swoon if Ronan starting charging around the office like a bull, and the elderly woman will feign disinterest in the conversation while secretly hoping the man explodes.

No, no explosion. Ronan rolls his head around to pop his neck audibly to try and relieve stiffness. He is a little subdued in fact, listening - but mention of a possible alternative marriage does draw his gaze to the Queen at once. No comment however, not at first. A slight thinning of his mouth.

"I am most certainly not hard set to take the Princess Nima to wife. She has turned out to be … lovely upon the eyes, intelligent, and easier to get along with than I expected. Nonetheless, she /is/ Kundari, Your Majesty. I would marry her to get ships we need, an alliance the King desires, and an heir for my House lest it die with me." To the point.

He draws a slow breath and partly turns on the couch and lifts an arm to lay across the back of it, "However, taking a Kundari to wife will /not/ sit well with Sutherlanders. It would cause long term difficulties at home. Any children she gives, to be blunt, may not be acceptable to the people of my Dutchy. There is very old resentment between our peoples." So, the Duke moves the fingers of his calloused sword hand, "What other option would you and the King propose, Your Majesty?"

"Unfortunately, with the news, the King and I are not as assured that, despite her loveliness, her wit and charm, that there would be any sense as we would gain little." Don't worry, Ro, it's not all about them! Fingertips will play upon the desk as the queen draws in a deep breath, her lips pulling to the side as she allows a bit of emotion to show through - she likes Ronan. She does. Why? Ladies intuition.

"Indeed, and while we may have been able-" And willing, "To ride you through that particular tide, daresay I that there is not as .." oh, she just wants to swear and be even more frank, "A …" Oh, well, she gives up, flicking a hand, "Truly there is no point."

There, the true Queen who sighs, still looking scary and lovely as ever, but it's clear she seeks out plain words, "I know it's unlikely either of you would be such a fan of a proposed union, but the King and I have spoken at length about .." A sigh again, the Queen pressing a hand to her cheek as she frowns, "She is so wroth with me, this will no doubt further such an issue as this will not allow her to be Queen of anything .." A worried glance to Winifred who continues her ..looping ..with the knitting sticks. A heavy sigh, "We were thinking our daughter Princess Roslin."

Ronan has a heavy heart, resigning himself to doing whatever is necessary for Sutherland and Mobrin, at his own expense if he must. It is a grim thought, trying to not be the last of his House and let his forefather's down at the same time. A Kundari! But well, whatever it takes to please the King and get things done that must be done for the war. So he fingers the back of the couch and his grimness makes him look older than his mere 24 years.

He thins his lips at what the Queen starts to say, "It is my problem to deal with, Your Majesty, not yours or the King's. If I can not deal with Sutherland, then I am not fit to be Duke." Flat out. "This is my test to pass or fail."

Now Ronan sharpens his gaze upon Laetitia as she seems to be having difficulty getting to the point. Whatever is the problem? His dark brows begin to furrow as the Duke begins to get wary of what is coming. Is the Queen now going to suggest he take the crippled, sickly Princess Draventa to wife? Gods, Moniwid snakes could be worse than a Kundari bride. Poor Draventa would probably not survive childbirth, let alone Ronan's … strong personality. He frowns at the thought of the poor girl, lovely enough otherwise. Finally Laetitia offers a name but it's NOT what he was expecting!!! Ronan only sits there and /stares/ at the Queen, "Whom?" No, he could not have possibly have heard that right.

Laetitia frowns a little, the Queen somewhat upset - not for Ronan, no, he gets a bloody prize!! If it's agreed to, of course, but her poor sweet Roslin will be beside herself in absolute distress at the thought of having to marry but a Duke, "Princess Roslin, Duke Crawford, I know it's not the most conventional of pairings I think - well, the King and I agree, it would ..likely bear much more fruit and would benefit all involved." Except her poor Roslin, "Let us discuss it more, before you have to agree to such a big decision. I'd like the King involved, but the marriage between you and the Kundari Princess is ..well. In my mind, and my husbands, not to press through. She will find someone else." Nodding slowly, "Though Princess Roslin is going to be heart broken." Oh, the Queen looks truly upset, her brows tugged down in a lovely frown which barely touches the flesh of her forehead. A glance to Winifred, "Winifred, wine, please."

There is a long pause as he absorbs this information, puzzled. The Duke moves to stand and takes a few steps, hands clasped behind his back before he turns fully to face the Queen, "I … don't know what to say, Your Majesty. I am, in fact, quite fond of your daughter, R… the Princess Roslin. I believe she is rather fond of me, as well. But neither of us… "

This is too good to be true. Surely the King and the Queen are onto them and this must be a vile, dirty trick to find them out! NOT that they have done anything. Ronan hasn't so much as touched a finger to her. "This is not an alliance that would bring House Kilgour what it needs, Your Majesty. All that I have, all that Sutherland is, you already have. I assumed the Princess Roslin's marriage would be needed to secure a foreign alliance, gain us allies in the war against the Laniveer. What gain you by this?" A frown, "I know … there has been difficulty between our Houses over my sister's conduct. And now my brother and his Kilgour wife, Terriwyn are dead, double blows to House Kilgour. I thought it impossible …"

The Duke does not know how to finish. So perhaps he should stop. He waits to see if the other boot will now fall. Surely it must. He dare not be too pleased yet.

It would be the Queens style to offer Roslin to every noble to find out which one she was sweet on, and then say 'Oh, silly me, what am I thinking, sorry, no no, oh - mommy brain. Sorry, I thought you were a prince.' But look at that, look at that little sliver of success in the Queens eyes as he confirms for her that he is the one. She hadn't a clue, but now, look! Oh. Oh. No, now all sadness for her daughter is gone and the Queen will ahh softly.

Caught!

Especially as he goes on to say 'neither of us', which clues in the Queen they have already discussed as much. Oh, but see, the Queen will play it as she is wont to about such things, "Well, we suspected as much, to be quite honest, you see, we are very keen on the company our daughter keeps. A princess and all, and we so oft speak with handmaidens and guards .."

Oh yeah man, she totally knew! Just don't make her prove it, "But you are wrong about it serving no function, it would serve to strengthen a blood line that we consider very important in the realm, Duke Crawford. And in that strength we would find ourselves strengthened. I was very close to my niece Terrwyn, she was like a daughter to me and the King, it's why my daughter bears her name as part of her own-" Laela Terrwyn, "And the Duke was quite adored by us as well. And we only have love for you as well." She's not going to discuss the particulars of Roslin as a foreign alliance, "Are you against such a thing, Duke Crawford. You seem intent on speaking us out of such a possibility."

Ronan does a very convincing impression of a fish. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again but for the life of him he has a hard time finding words to get out of it. Surely the Queen has never seen him so far off his balance. Staggered, really. For some reason his heart has jumped up to beat faster, the damn, traitorous organ!

All right, a slow breath and by force of will, draw his wits back. Find his tongue. "I am most certainly /not/ opposed, Your Majesty. It will be for the Princess Roslin to speak for herself for I can not speak what she will think of your proposal." An honest answer. Roslin might be overjoyed, or she might be livid, or both at the same time! Gods, women are complicated. The Rioga looks at the floor, trying to figure out how his world as he knows it could shift so drastically beneath his feet and he not understand how. He lifts his chin to look at the Queen, "A noble marriage is to be arranged for the gain of both families. If she agrees, I will not refuse it and I care not what the dowry might be. I will find some other way to get ships for Sutherland." Is he being incredibly stupid? Why can't he think? Shock maybe. The Duke takes a seat.

Laetitia rises up from her desk with concern clearly written on her face, "Winifred, have the handmaiden outside fetch the Duke strong spirits." Because booze is the answer for everything. Lady Winifred will get up to stride across the room to lean out to direct as much, not about to leave the Queen in the company of this man. If he dies the suspicion of the Queen having done it …especially after the death of his sister. Oi, complications all wish to avoid. Well, rumors. At any rate.

The Queen will press her fingertips to the desk as she leans over it, watching Ronan carefully, a nod given to Winifred as she's informed the spirits are on the way, "You look ill, Duke Crawford."

Said plainly, the Queen /almost/ coming around the desk to give him support, but she just lotioned her hands and she enjoys the scent without adding a mans scent to it. Oh, then he finds words and the Queen straightens up, exhaling with relief, "Good. My husband and I will speak to our daughter first, so do not say a word or I will have your tongue as a top for my pen-" But his next words have her suddenly smiling warmly, her hands gliding up off the desk.

"/That/ is the spirit I so admired in your family Duke, and now in you." A young boy rushes in with a decanter and a cup, stepping with his gaze lowered, "Majesty." He stutters it cutely, likely no more than 8, so adorable with his ruddy complextion, before he'll move to the Duke to serve him the drink, "Drink, Duke Crawford, return the color to your features, "Do not tell my husband about your wish to take any dowry, you will end up with a toothless kitten we found that I've come to adore." Teasingly murmured, the Queen looking pleased.

Toothless kittens? What about Sutherland's needs? No, Ronan /should/ refuse this because while it is what he desires, -his- desires are not what matters. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he looks at nothing in particular, "No, I am not ill." His voice is quite low.

Rosley has been standing as discreetly as possible against the wall trying NOT to be noticed. The elderly man servant looks quite relieved and pretty happy as he steps forward to intercept the cup for his Duke. Though the child is sweet and surely the Queen means no ill, Rosely nonetheless performs his duty as poison taster. He tastes of the spirits offered and only then does he put it into Ronan's hand, to step back again.

The Rioga's dark eyes flicker up at Rosley, then to his drink. A single swallow, no more. Ronan licks his lips, "I would be pleased to have her for wife, dowry or none at all, but … I should, I -must- serve Sutherland, Your Majesty. I would be a very poor Duke to let … my own, personal desires in this matter overrule my Duty to my people. I would be no better than my sister, even /with/ your and the King's blessings. It makes no sense." It aches to say it but he knows it's right.

"We wouldn't leave Sutherland in the lurch, Duke Crawford, you can be most assured. Something appropriate will be arranged once both sides are in agreement, of course." The Queen will state, though it's poor Rosley that suddenly has the Queen looking at him with sharp interest. Not too much older than Winifred …The Queen is on a roll lately, having taken up in her husbands stead while he works away on whatever he's working on, most secret things the Queen is likely privvy to since the man can't keep anything from her.

Yess …now that Duke Crawford hasn't died from a heart attack the Queen will emerge from behind the desk, easing her way towards the manservant who serves as his poison taster. Just like the Queens own maiden, though not Winifred. Lae saves chance for death to her younger, more ..airy ..hand maidens.

"Your name it has escaped me, speak it to me." Indicated to the manservant, the Queen drawn up to her full height as she looks upon the cheery looking man, "Winifred, have you had chance to meet with this handsome man?"

Tyrel raps on the door with his knuckles a moment before entering, "Mother would you have a moment?" He asks almost before the door is open, when he spies Ronan there he pauses in his advance, "Ah, Ronan, you will excuse me, I was under the impression my mother was taking a moment to herself, not hosting a guest." Slightly behind him is Ciarrah whose arm he holds. His gaze skips around the room quickly, "You all appear occupied."

There is concern for his Duke but mostly Rosley is pleased, even if he's trying not to smile. Slender of build, he is dressed simply in black for House Crawford's mourning but otherwise he is immaculate. Surprised though, that the Queen should notice himself. He bows very low to her, "Your Majesty, I am Rosley Corravaunt. My family has been in service to House Crawford for generations." Straightening, his face instantly colors slightly even at his age, at being called handsome.

Ronan has finished his glass, whatever it was. It seems to help. He moves to stand, empty glass in hand and turns to see why his man servant is being questioned. The Rioga doesn't interrupt, still off his balance but recovering.

The Duke manages to draw his gaze to those who enter and he draws himself up to lay fist to his heart and bow himself, "Young Majesty, Your Highness, you are not interrupting on my account." Ronan will let the Queen decide for herself.

When her husband steps through the door, Ciarrah follows behind, her steps evenly matched to his. She certainly looks different than the last time she was barely getting around, though of course she is not back to usual yet, she is getting there. Twins.. it was all baby! Once in, she allows her gaze to roam the room, an intelligent and curious look in her eyes. One brow is slightly quirked as if always questioning things. "Your Majesty. Your Grace." A curtsy is offered as well as she can while her husband has her arm. She smiles somewhat indulgently to her husband.

Winifred is, in a word, lovely. But without going into explicity detail, all one needs to know is that Winifred is the spitting image of Helen Mirren and she is dressed in colors that compliment what her Queen wears, deep greys and purples. Though in a much more modest fashion, with her hair swept back in a most winsome manner, befitting a woman of her age and station.

"Rosley Corravaunt, did you hear that, Lady Winifred, a most befitting a name for a man so handsome." Oh, yes, she noticed that light pinkening, and Winifred knows exactly what the Queen is doing and will no doubt later have words with her most Royal Majesty along the lines of 'I'm /old/, let me rest!', "This is the ever lovely Lady Winifred Cumberbatch, her family has served my husbands family for quite some time, and she is my most trusted and adored Lady." Oh, they have guests, but the Queen will wave to Winifred to abandon her knitting, the Lady doing so, a most …dry smile upon the elder Ladys lips as she moves to greet poor Rosley.

"Rosley Corravaunt, I am most pleased to meet you formally." Yes, a demure nod of her head as the Queen leads her to stand with the man, a pleased smile upon her lips before she's waving Tyrel and Ciarrah in, "Come, come, I am done my business with Duke Crawford and he no doubt needs a moment to relax, doesn't he look ill to you?" Asked casually, the Queen striding to her son to kiss his cheek, grabbing him by the shoulders to do so, pecking him, before moving to do the same to Ciarrah, "Princess, you look glowing as always. Tyrel, my son, what did you need of me?"

Tyrel dips his head towards Laetitia, "There had been word that the chill you mentioned an evening or two past night not have yet left you, mother, and that you were feeling cool." He glances between the servants then says, "Though it seems your spirits have improved." He steps to the side ushuring Ciarrah forward for the kiss and into conversation with the Queen.

Ronan no longer looks quite so much like someone has hit him upside the head with a brick. Shame is glass is empty. He glances into it and then looks for that bottle. Where did it go? Far more potent than wine and just now that suits him just fine. Yes, if it's not placed too far off, he will get himself a refill for his glass. His mind is very much occupied but Ronan must also pay his attention to here, and now.

"I am not ill, I'm fine, thank you." Yes, the Duke can manage to speak for himself now, even if he couldn't manage it earlier. He eyes the goings on between Rosley, the Queen and Winifred. Should he pop that bubbles or ….? No, let poor Rosley enjoy the attention, he's a good man and deserves it.

Rosley /indeed/ is delighted to make Winifred's acquaintance. He bows to her, "My Lady Winifred, truly, a great pleasure." He speaks very clearly and is obviously educated.

Serah, who steps in right behind the Princess, immediately begins looking for the squire of the Duke in question, the other two catch her own attention briefly. The handmaid blushes quietly to herself, ducking her head slightly. It had been too long since she had seen him though!

As the Queen greets them and Tyrel presses her forward, she casts a glance his way before greeting the Queen in kind, "You as well, Your Majesty. When the boys are a little bigger, I will bring them out of the room, but alas, it is winter and their health comes before anything else. I would not risk it to the drafts of the castle."

Tyrel moves over beside Ronan, "Count, I'm not familiar with the Corravaunt name, have then long been ennobled?" His voice is pitched quite low so overhearing him would be difficult without effort.

"That is still very much a reality, Tyrel, though at this point I refuse to allow it to put a damper on the entirety of my evening." The Queen will state as some of the chill does indeed return to her, memory of the day earlier - Ronan knows of it, she will harden her jaw as she strides back to her seat, sliding into it, a deep breath drawn in, caaaaalm, "Of course, Princess, this weather is no place for a child to be set about to visiting. I can come by the rooms, our own is suffering from a slight chill herself, the poor dear. Little sniffles." The Queen explains in an off-hand manner — and indeed, Ronan. The Queens eyes are set upon you. YOU. Don't you dare pop those bubbles. They're both old. And yes, deserving.

Winifred, in all her wisdom, will humor the Queen, gracefully sliding to stand near Rosley, keeping a distance enough so that she's not inappropriately close. Her posture is impeccable, having been key in teaching it to all the royal children, Winifred one that has been quite close in the rearing of the wee ones the Queen has popped out.

Hands are folded delicately over her abdomen and she will dip down in a curtsey to the man, her eyes dropping as she offers to him a more softer smile. Up she rises then and thankfully ..he doesn't sound a buffoon, so she is only too delighted to engage in some light conversation with him, "How many generations has your family been with the Crawfords?" Her rich, worldly voice asks, the woman herself quite educated, the Queen doesn't suffer fools. Well. Unless they're tasting food for her.

The Duke turns his head to look at Tyrel and Ronan lifts a dark brow, keeping his voice very low, "Rosley is not a nobleman. Nonetheless, his family has long served my own very well. He is my personal servant since my father was killed. He did not wish to leave me in the field when I road for Westgate and … I would not send him to my brother lest he wished to go home. Kierne would not go either so they've each been with me since." Though Kierne is not present, the Duke's squire /is/ a nobleman, being a Kincaid.

Ronan takes a taste of the refilled up and watches the others as he stands next to Tyrel. Ah yes, the whole Laniveer business. Oh, and then the Queen is almost glaring at him. No, the Crawford says not a word loud enough to carry about Rosley being Common born.

You'd never guess Rosley wasn't noble, for he holds himself with such quiet dignity. Over there, by the wall to be as discreet as he may be but now his attention wholly upon the Lady Winifred, but for a brief look to his Duke to make certain he isn't needed. "Six generations, seven including my son, Gods rest his mother." As he has no desire to bother any of the rest of them, Rosley has the good sense to keep his voice quite low, pleased to have the Lady Winifred's company.

Serah looks disappointed when Kierne is not there, but she does manage to hide it almost immediately. She moves to her proper place, behind her Princess and silent as Ciarrah speaks with the Queen. "I would truly like for you to come by the room whenever you have a free moment. I understand the King is under the weather at the moment though, and would like to extend the invitation to him for when he has time also." Taking a deep and fortifying breath, her smile widens. "I feel ready to conquer anything given to me now. Like I have been in a cocoon for nine months and now it is time to get to business. If there is… anything I can do, to buffer the arrival of my cousins from Laniveer, please allow me to do so. Anything you would like me to find out for you, I am but yours to command. My loyalty is with Mobrin. With my husband and my family here."

Tyrel nods, "Ah, that would explain why the name did not strike me." He looks about the room, "You will all excuse me, I have been reminded of something I should see to. Ciarrah, I may be out for the evening." He nods briefly then moves to exit.

Tyrel leaves, heading towards the Royal Landing [O].

Ronan stands quietly, subdued and drinking, yet somehow he is also regaining something … he looks to the Queen, and maybe some weight might be lifted from him, if only a little, daring to try and hold some hope of something. He draws a breath and looks then to Ciarrah, "You, Your Highness, are looking very good. How do the two young princes fair? The Gods, specifically Cri herself, has surely blessed this House. Please accept my congratulations." While Ronan wears black in mourning, nonetheless he has not seen Tyrel's wife to speak with her since she had come to the Sutherland Attache office that day.

Winifred hardly cares if he's noble, commoner or a clown in a horse suit who's really a broom. Her womb is old, barren, dusty and is so far from use that the idea of anything more happening between the two hardly crosses her mind. Marriage, at her old age? Pht, she's lucky to have solid farts at this age that aren't dusty and lost in a mere breeze, though she would never admit to such. Oh no, Ladies do not fart, toot, pass wind or any of the above. They hold them in until they rot within the gut and embitter the vessel, never passing out into the world beyond. But Rosely is so well spoken and he is quite comely that Winifred hasn't an issue now in engaging with him, "Oh, I am sorry for your loss of her, but she must have been so proud her son enter into the same service as so many before him." A slender hand reaches out to touch Rosleys forearm ever so gently, "You have quite the honor imbued within your family for service so long, and done so well." Murmured to him as she gestures to him to join her on a couch, the Lady herself taking a chair nearby. This office is HUGE. So no doubt such arrangements are available.

The Queen however nods to Ciarrah, "Oh indeed, quite under the weather, it is all our hopes he recovers soon." A blatant lie, but one delivered so earnestly, the Queen not about to speak of what her husband does behind closed doors. The Queen, is she sitting now? Even she forgets, but if not she settles back in with a bright smile, "That would be something I would ask of you, Princess, if it is not too much. I worry about their intentions. As does my Husband, as no doubt we all do. I do not believe a word that comes from their mouths. And todays events-" Ah, the Queen is up again, suddenly angered once more, but within mostly trusted company. Her head will shake as she strides to her wine, scooping up the goblet in her hand as she leans into the desk within her free one.

Pensive. Annoyed once more, "That Lordling better learn his place lest he wishes to lose his tongue." That's all she says on the matter, the sound of an infant crying in the distance causing the queen to, well. Leak. Damn breasts and their reactions to crying infants! Though the leak isn't obvious, the Queen knows immediately what has come upon her. A deep breath, the Queen striding to the door leading to her rooms, "Winifred, stay if you wish. Laela is calling."And the Queen is leaking. Like an on-call milk machine.

Winifred immediately rises, "Apologies, Master Corravaunt, I believe I should be with the Queen. It was a delight to indulge in conversation with you, however short." A pause, a look back over her shoulder to the Queen who has, in this moment, paused at her door to give Winifred a look. The Look, "Perhaps when we've both the time we may meet for tea." An inclination of her head, and a moments wait for his answer, before she will follow the Queen out.

Rosley couldn't be more charmed with Winifred. Of course he went to sit with her, at a gentlemanly distance for converse of course and rose to stand at once when she rises. "I understand, and it would be my plesaure, thank you. I will attend anytime my lord allows me free of my duties." He remains standing as the Queen departs and bows low.

"Thank you, Your Grace. I feel much better. I discovered I can breathe and walk and stand much easier now." A teasing smile plays over her lips and Ciarrah cannot help but be so very delighted at the words. "Thank you, I am so proud of them. They are doing very well though I admit today is my first time away from them since their birth."

At the agreement of the Queen on the status of the King, Ciarrah inclines her head then, deciding not to mention anything either. "I heard mention of Elisen upsetting you. What happened, if I may be so bold to ask of you?" And indeed when the matter is dropped, she does not press further. "I will speak to the Stewerts about everything." She offers a curtsy. "I must go speak with the Prince before his… departure for the evening. If you would excuse me?"

Ronan also bows as the Queen moves to depart, even if he doesn't bow nearly so low as Rosley, "Thank you, Your Majesty, for asking me to come this evening. I will keep /every/ word in mind, particularly what you have bid me do for my part. Good night."

The Duke then looks back to Ciarrah, "He, the Laniveer lordling, was rather too bold for his own good. I was tempted to run him through with my sword and if the Queen had commanded it, I would have upon the instant." Yes, the Rioga was most displeased.

With that, he sets his cup down unfinished and motions to collect Rosley, "Very well, have a very good evening, Your Highness." Ronan will remove himself and his man servant from the King's study with Ciarrah's own departure.

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