Inouv 23, 228: Toleration

Summary: Nima visits the Sutherland Suite to offer her condolences.
OOC Date: 12/December/2013 (OOC)
Related: None
Ronan Nima Syri 
Sutherland Suite
To Be added
Inouv 23, 228

There have been some visitors. The Princess Roslin who has struck up a friendship with the Duke came by for a while and unlike their last visit that ended in some ruffled tempers, this time it went smoothly enough, quiet. Guards see that /official/ visitors are turned away at the Suite's entrance but there are orders that personal visitors from any of House Kilgour blood, or the Princess Nima, were to be admitted. Any others would have to be checked to see if Ronan felt like dealing with them. For today he is otherwise keeping to himself.

A fire is laid in the hearth, wine is poured. Rosley will see the Princess is allowed to enter. The Crawford himself has changed into mourning blacks and is seated, sipping wine and reading a book for his leisure - which he closes and lays aside as Nima is announced. Ronan moves to stand and runs a hand over his rather plainer than usual clothing and bows, "Your Highness."

The news had spread quickly and though Nima had not met the Lady in question, she had still been a member of the royal family and relative of the Sutherland Duke. Unlike other days, Nima is dressed in more muted tones in respect for the family, her sari of deep green undecorated and somber. Upon arrival, she had been shown in and with a grateful nod to Rosley, steps more fully into the room, her handmaid at hand while her guard waits at the door, no doubt counting the time his charge remains in the room.

A curtsy is given by both of the Kundari, Princess and maid alike. "Your Grace, I thank you for granting me audience." A smile is offered, a look of tenderness.

"I … am mostly not accepting visitors today, your Highness. I thought however you might ask. Please do come in and have a seat to make yourselves comfortable. Would you care for a glass of Sutherland white or tea?" Ronan is subdued himself, his emotions carefully blank. His attire must do for him to show his grief than to allow himself to indulge in it more than keeping to his quarters for the day and refusing most visitors.

His own seat he does not retake. Ronan picks up his cup of wine and wanders over to refill it for himself rather than allowing Rosley to tend to him. Rosley however will serve the Duke's guests, if they allow him. "I trust your leg is all mended? I think you for allowing me to view the camel creature. It was facinating." As it happens, the book he has left closed by his chair is a History of Kundari (as writen by some Mobrin author so the Gods only know what's in it).

"It is understandable and I would not wish to intrude too long on your time if you would prefer to seek solace." Nima straightens from her curtsy and moves with easy grace to one of the couches where she sits lightly and offers a brief nod. "Wine would be lovely, thank you, Your Grace." Straightening her dress around her once she is seated, she watches as he moves to refill his own drink.

"My leg is quite fine, it causes no discomfort at all any longer." The small talk is accepted for what it is and she responds in kind. "I hope you enjoy him, for he is yours to do with as you please. I have another single hump camel in the guest stable that I could show little Elly." Her eyes land on the book and the smile that finds her lips is one of wonder. She quickly stifles it, forcing herself to say the words she had come to say. "I wanted to offer my apologies and condolences for all you have lost of late. I have heard good things about Prince Logen's wife." Again her eyes flicker to the book and she ducks her head to hide the very inappropriate smile.

The Duke's face is devoid of emotion, tired maybe. "I wish I could say the same, Princess. I have heard mostly ill things of my sister since I have come to Darfield. Even so, I had hoped she would bear a son, that I would have a nephew should I be killed in battle and leave my House no heir. Even if the King said her children can never inherit, I would hope he would not let my House die, if it came to it."

Ronan shifts his jaw and knocks back about half his cup of wine. Rosley has seen that his Lord's guests have wine also. The Sutherland white is vaguely sweet as women tend to prefer and not as strong as the red. The Duke's man servant watches the Rioga and without asking, Rosley reaches into the cabinet and draws out the Sutherland red to set on the table where Ronan stands.

"Enjoy the camel? You gift him to me, or … I hope you mean to the King. Such is a fit gift for Kings." After a pause, he gives a faint nod, "Thank you." The condolences really don't make it better, but worse though he only thins his mouth and looks off at nothing in particular.

"Despite what people may hear most, no one is ever all good or all bad. Surely inside everyone is the chance to be both." Nima offers quietly. "The Prince saw something in her and her in the Prince and Cri saw fit to bless them with a child even if only for a short time." Her own beliefs aside, she smiles, for once understanding his great need for an heir for his house.

"The King has a heart, despite how he must rule his Kingdom, for on the trip to Jadda, I could see the way he indulged the young Mowbray Lady as much of have been doing since her arrival with her father and uncle. Also in the way he hovered over his newest Princess." Accepting the wine, Nima gives a nod of thanks before taking a sip, savoring the flavor of the new wine she had never sampled before. "I do believe you would give any of the other wines quite a challenge in tasting, Your Grace." The wine rivals the others she has tried since her arrival greatly.

"My brother brought a camel for the King as well, and he is to gift it to him. I only thought you the first so curious about it so I wished to gift it. If you would not want it, I bid you gift it to who you wish, for he is no longer mine to do anything with." The condolences she does not further mention. "I see the book you read. Is there anything I could answer as well?"

His own attention has wandered, not entirely focused on his guest as he should be. Ronan belated comes back to what she is saying. He tastes his cup and frowns a little, "I remember my sister fondly, but I had seen little of her in years since I was sent away to squire. Siblings become strangers and she became a woman." The Duke glances at the wine in his cup and swirls it around as she speaks of his King. Ronan is not sure what Nima means to tell him in speaking so but probably as concerned his hope for a nephew. "Thank you. Our wines are not our pride as our horses are, but we have many vinyards along our southern most coast. Perhaps you will see them someday, your Highness. As Dutchess, or as visitor."

After finishing his glass, Ronan pours himself some of the stronger red that is less sweet. With glass in hand he walks slowly over towards the fire and leans against the mantle when he half turns to look to her. "I will not refuse him. If nothing else, it will amuse me to see Kierne try to ride him. I shall hope the beast as spunk and might give us a few laughs to watch knights and squires a like fall on their backsides." Though with two humps instead of one, it may not be difficult. Ronan smiles a little, trying to imagine it.

There is not much else Nima can say about Caitlyn, so she does not even attempt it. Another sip of the wine, drinking light despite the excellent taste, and then she gives an understanding smile. "Of course Sutherland is known far and wide for their horses, even the Kundari know and have attempted to surpass." An impish look reaches her eyes, but she attempts to subdue it due to the solemnity of the situation. It fails to be hindered. "Perhaps I could teach you to ride the camel first so that you would excel at it as the others attempt, showing your superiority."

With her wine glass in hand, she rises, wandering over to the fireplace where he stands. With a frankness unlike her usual self, she regards him in silence for a moment before speaking again. "If you would like, we could go riding at some point. Whatever your decision is in regards to me, I would not mind becoming a friend to you."

"Surpass my … Kundari have /stolen/ our horses." Yes, watch his language, yet Ronan does not have a flare of anger with the words. He in fact has a brief look of amusement before it passes and he shakes his head, "No, others may have antics with it as I have much work to be done, much to do before spring." The hint of humor is fleating and soon dies when she rises to walk closer and study himself. Ronan eyes Nima right back, studying her face, the paleness of her eyes and the reddish hint in her dark hair. His own expression has returned to unreadable, mutely guarded.

"Riding is good, your Highness. Though … please forgive me if I am not eager for Kundari friendship. If you and I marry, I will endevor to be a good husband to you, Princess Nima. I will even try to be civil unto your male relations rather than reach for my blade. I will … tolerate if I must but I do not think I will learn to like your people."

Nima manages not to flinch at the words of the stolen horses, because she knows he is correct and on the surface as far as she can tell, there is no heat behind the words. "Are there many mares with foal to be born in the spring? It has been a good season so far, even in Kundari for the foals. " When he studies her back, at first she tries to read the unreadable expression until finally she gives it up.

At the rebuff, she manages not to flinch again, though the mischievous look fades into solemnity. "I quite understand, Your Grace. I truly do. I wonder if you are far more accepting than my brothers would be were the roles reversed. Toleration is certainly more desired than loathing and I would accept it should it be the offer. The past between our people is not conducive to a happy match, and I appreciate your tolerance. However, my people are my family, and though I regret what happened, I cannot change it by willing it to be so."

She is standing rather close and he can continue to study her face and her person by the fire's light. So Ronan does so, taking in details as well as the strange fit and fall of her garment. When he speaks again, the Duke does so very low, "You … are a remarkably beautiful woman. Your … conduct has been quite befitting of a lady, or a Princess. When my horse struck you, you did not cry out, nor weep and wail dramatically, you held your dignity as though nothing had happened. You are not at all what I expected of your people, our Highness. /That/ at least does not bode so ill between our peoples."

He watches her, then lifts his wine glass to taste of the Sutherland red. "And when I have not been entirely couth, you have kept your poise and affected no insult over petty things when I have lightly pushed to test you. I … have to admit, I highly approve, whatever befalls our Houses. If you seek a friend, I think you may well find one with the Princess Roslin."

It had not been her intention to stand so close, but with the hearth and the fire, and the way he had been leaning against it, Nima had found herself closer than she had anticipated. When he studies her, she searches his face, his expression, for any sign of softness. Though she does not find it immediately, his words do offer a comfort she had not been expecting. Surprise flickers in her eyes, quite easily seen, the words bringing a blush, though she does not step back or lower her gaze.

"You have your right to voice your thoughts in any manner you wish to voice them. It is my choice to remain around and listen to them and learn what I can about what you are displeased with and what has angered you. You perhaps have tested me, though I have not acted any different than I would have in any other circumstances, I thank you for the knowledge you have imparted and I will seek out Princess Roslin, again. I found her to be quite the brilliant conversationalist when I spoke with her before."

No, there's little of softness in his face, a stern, bold eyes to watch and assess those around him. Yet aye, his words and his tone had quieted, perhaps as 'soft' as he knows how to get. A man used to fighting and working with men, not with the sensibilities of women.

Ronan watches her and does not flinch from Nima's gaze, meeting hers and noting her blush even with her golden brown skin. "She spoke well of you also. I think you two will find one another good company. She is … very young, but quite mature and sharp of mind for her age." He tastes his wine and makes no move to put distance between them, well aware her handmaiden is watching. Perhaps Rosley is distracting her a little.

"Tell me … things you like, your Highness. I learn about your country, we exchange discourse on alliance and marriage, as well as discuss my dead family. What of yourself? Do you sing, or paint, or enjoy gardens, falconing … what did you do in your own country that pleased you most?"

The lack of softness is not a deterrent, in fact the strength there in his features is more impressive than she would likely admit to herself. "I would not wish for you to change to suit me," she muses suddenly, to even her own surprise. "There is something about you. A solidarity, that I see in very few people. Even my brothers are lacking it, I think." Once again she is surprised and feels somewhat traitorous so that she adds, "Each have their own charms of course. Altair is a good listener and Dastan brings laughter to even the most stoic.."

As he mentions Roslin, she tilt her head just so, considering the words. "I found her to be very intelligent and I was impressed by her grasp of the Kundari language. She spoke it rather fluently and for one her age, to be so well versed in so many things, she is indeed a treasure. What man she is finally betrothed with should find himself all the better for a match with her, for she would be an asset to any House or Kingdom."

The more personal questions are considered as she sips her wine, a slight swishing of the liquid inside as she lowers the goblet. "I enjoy singing and find myself doing it at the oddest of times. While sewing or playing an instrument I brought from my home. I do find myself writing down different verses to go with my instrument. I do not anger easily… yet if I do, it would be for a good reason and I believe there is a time and a place for confrontation should it ever go that far."

"Hmmm… I am … too quick to anger, sometimes." Ronan admits once he's heard her out. He drinks some of his wine, aware of his flaw. He licks his lips and evaded her gaze briefly at mention of Roslin again, "She will make someone a fine wife. A Queen, even." He is careful what he says concerning that topic. The Duke finishes off his cup of red and sets it up on the mantle.

"I would like to hear you play and sing, some time. Music is good and I've heard little enough of it this past year." He runs a hand over his face, "I have … kept you over long, your Highness. I should go and seek Prince Logen, to speak with him. Man's going to be grieving for his wife and should not be in his cups alone."

Light blue eyes regard him at the confession of his own anger, but there is no judgment in her own. "I have heard it said sometimes it is good to get the anger out so that rifts can be healed, yet I have little seen that to be proven." A sort of lopsided smile curves her lips and she notices the evasion of her gaze at the mention of the Princess. Was there.. feelings there? Curious.. very curious. Perhaps she could test it slightly. "There are other… options for you, I am sure, other Lady's or Princesses who would be able to provide you with the heir you desire. When you decide, if you decide to not opt for a match with me, I will understand. Yet if you do, I will be a good and honest wife, ever faithful and I would come to you pure of body, mind and heart. I think it is important for a wife to be all a husband will need. Though, that said, I understand if you have other ideas, or if your mind and heart are with another, for you have more choice in a marriage and a match than I do. I have always known my future would be for bargaining, so I have carefully refrained from giving what is not mine to give, for it already belongs to the man I will marry."

Now that the awkward is there for him, she ducks her head in a bow. "It would be my pleasure to play and sing for you, should you find the time to visit the Kundari Suite, I would give you music." As he dismisses her, she replaces her wine on the sideboard with the bottles, or wherever it had been gotten from before offering a curtsy. "It was a pleasure as always, Your Grace." She does not mention condolences again, not wishing to see that look in his eyes again from before.

His mouth thins a little at her going on about .. other options, or if his heart belongs elsewhere. Ronan doesn't like that, "Nothing matters but that I serve my House, the people of my Dutchy, and my Kingdom, your Highness. I have no more liberty there than you yourself. My king bade me seek alliance with your house and if your father will meet my requirements, and if my King agrees to his, then we will likely wed. I am not … inclined to go against my liege lord's wishes in this matter. It is as good as his command." Even if it really pissed him off.

The Duke draws himself up from leaning against the mantle. A slow breath as he watches her prepare to depart, "Perhaps I will, your Highness. Thank you, for coming by. I shall bid you a good night." Dressed in his sombre black, Ronan offers her a bow as due her rank, yet above his own though she be foreign.

As Syri moves towards the door, Nima does not immediately depart for the door herself. Hearing him out, she quietly regards him. Clasping her hands together, tightly, she remains with a calm visage. "My most heartfelt apologies, Your Grace, for speaking out of turn." Lips compress, yet there is no other outward sign of a temper than her hands or her lips. "Good night to you as well." One more curtsy and she follows her maid to the door. This time she does not look back as the group depart.

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