News from Home {Tags: Izayan}

It was a cold, early morning at the Beastcraft Hall, and Verilyn woke in her private room, shared only with her Lady in Waiting, Olrina. The redhead stretched, groaning as the ache from the evening on a hard mattress cracked through her spine, “I’m not old enough to ache like this.” she muttered, trying not to wake the woman.

“If I’m not, you’re not, Lady.” came the grunt in response from the other bed. The woman had long since resigned herself to the fact that she was going to be getting up early as the dawn with her charge, and had taken to sleeping partially clothed in order to be ready when Verilyn was. She rolled over in her bed and sat up, stretching herself as well. “Early training again?” she asked Verilyn.

“Kirazerin can’t be stabled when they do the feeding. The stable workers are afraid of him.” she replied, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and standing to dress herself. “Do you think the guard slept outside my room?” she asked Olrina, rolling her eyes at the required bodyguard.

“Probably.” the woman said, pulling a jacket around her shoulders and shivering.

Ignoring the woman, Verilyn stood and pulled on a pair of tight fitting riding pants and a thick, fur lined jacket. Long, distressed wherhide boots completed the outfit and she turned to the mirror. Her hair was a mess of bedhead and tangles.

“You think you could tame this for me, please Olrina?” the woman asked, a plaintive tone coloring her voice.

The woman came over, sitting Veri down in a convenient chair, and picked up the comb, carefully detangling the mess and giving some order to the long, red tresses. “What would you like it to do today?” she asked, as the red hair became straight and smooth.

“Twist it up and keep it out of my face?” she asked, hoping Olrina would give her her way, instead of listening to her father’s insistence that she always look like the Lady she was.

“As you wish.” was the response, and moments later, the thick hair was contained behind her head at her neck, carefully pulled back to still look proper, but in a style the young woman wanted.

“Thank you, Olrina.” Veri said with feeling, standing.

The lady’s maid simply ducked a curtsy and grabbed her outting back, reading herself for a long day. “Just don’t make me ride yesterday’s wretch again.” she requested, remembering the runner that her Lady’s runner got along with on the trails.

Verilyn didn’t answer as she opened the door to their room and stepped into the hall. A cot had been set up at some point in the night, and the Keroon River Hold Guard lay on it, asleep. “Guardsman Nerick,” she said, gently touching his shoulder, “wake up.” The man sat up with a start, reaching beneath the cot for a sword. “I’m not an intruder, Nerick. We go to the stables, are you ready?” she asked.

Nerick nodded, sitting up and throwing off the blanket. “I’m always ready to serve you, Lady Verilyn.”

Verilyn rolled her eyes, “Just Verilyn is fine. For both of you. At least when we are alone.” she conceded, noticing the mulish glare in her bodyguard’s eyes. Olrina simply sniffed. “Some klah for us all, Olrina. Please.” she said, turning her attention to the woman clad to ride as she was. “And don’t worry, the Guardsman is too properly under my father’s boot heel to try anything untoward with me.” Olrina raised an eyebrow at the man, who just stared at her, before turning on heel and heading to the kitchen.

The redhead watched as she left, and turned herself toward the end of the hall that would let her out to the stable and beast pastures. Nerick followed at a respectful distance, watching her and their surroundings with a practiced eye. The sounds of hard hooves on wooden doors echoed back through the stable, and Verilyn grinned. Her runner was noticeably calmer when she was his caretaker, and a few of the stable workers had likened him to being worse than Thread when it came to injuries. The stud called loudly, which she responded to with a whistle. Down the row a golden head popped over the stall door and bobbed at her.

Verilyn made quick work of grooming the metallic golden coat, tacking him and leading him from the dirty stall before hooking him to a nearby stand to mount up. A quick word to one of the men on morning duty had him moving to saddle a horse for her maid, and the woman went back to patting her steed. Olrina returned at that moment, a carafe of klah and three mugs carefully balanced. She poured for her Lady first, herself and then handed the ever vigilant Guard his mug which he took with a look of gratitude.

“Oh good, I don’t have to ride the old one.” she said, turning as she watched a pretty Keroon runner being led from the stable.

As the man came up beside them, Kirazerin snaked his neck around and the sounds of teeth snapping together filled the air. The man moved deftly out of the runner’s space and turned to Verilyn, “Boss said she needs a breezing, and that you can run her against the Beast if you want. He’s up in the heights to watch.”

Verilyn’s eyes shot toward the heights, where a tiny figure stood, and seemed to be waving. She waved back, moving to the mounting block to be astride her mount. The stableman helped Olrina to mount the mare, and the two trotted off toward the track of land used for training. “Alright Olrina. We’ll take them around twice at the canter, then when we hit the start line the third time we can breeze. You remember what that is, right? Keep her in hand, but let her run. Don’t hold her back. Kirazerin will be doing the same and it will end up a natural race. Once at the breeze and then back to the gallop for a circuit. We will slow down after that, but that should get them well warned up.” she explained, seeing Olrina nodding along. “Think you can handle it?” she asked.

“Yes, Lady. I think I’ve picked up enough to be able to do that.” Olrina responded, gathering the reins and urging her mare forward. Verilyn followed close behind and the stopped at the deeply buried wooden start line in the track. A clang sounded, probably the sound of a spoon on an old pot, and the two horses were urged to trot, then canter. When the streamlined bodies were loose beneath the two riders, Veri gave the signal and they clucked to the runners to urge them into the moderate breezing pace.

Kirazerin flattened his sleek body into a track eating stride, pinned his ears back and took the bit between his teeth. They were off! Verilyn stood in the short stirrups, letting the wind whip her face as she leaned low over the runner’s neck. A whoop of joy escaped her and she peeked beneath her armpit to see Olrina and the mare hot on their trail. Veri clucked again, releasing a notch in the reins, and Kirazerin extended again, leaving the pair behind by several lengths. The full circuit pole flashed by, and Verilyn threw her arm up in a gesture for ‘One!’ and leaned back into the breeze. Cable-thick muscles were coiled beneath the woman, and she could feel them bunch and release with her mounts long, far-reaching strides. When the circuit pole flashed by again, she began reining Kirazerin back in, slowing his pace and letting him keep on at a trot.

Olrina came up beside them, flushed with the excitement. “That was fun!” she cried, breathless. “Time to gallop now, right?” she asked. Verilyn nodded, nudging Zerin again and urging him up to the right pace. She held him back, neck and neck with the mare until the last minute before reaching the start line again which she let him pass with a burst of speed.

When the two horses pulled up, the two women high fived and Kirazerin danced sideways as he enjoyed his victory. He was certainly feeling his oats that day, and he hadn’t even been fed yet. The thought of his feed brought Verilyn up short as she gathered his reins and pulled him to a stand. “We should get this beast rubbed down and fed, we can work him later.” Zerin trotted off toward his stall, and Verilyn swung a leg over the front of the saddle. As they made their way under the arch she slid to the ground and hooked him to the stall post as she removed the tack and bridle from him. A quick inspection of the feed bin showed that the stablemen had cleaned up and fed the beast, so she turned him loose into the stall.

Scooping up a brush the woman made quick work of rubbing him down and cooling him as he drank a slow slough of water from his bucket. When he was settled, Verilyn scooted out of the stall and noticed the note pegged to Zerin’s door.

Lady Verilyn,
A man will be along in the next few days for to check on Greed’s recovery. Please bring him out and work him when Kirazerin has been stabled. Keep me appraised of his progress. I expect a full report when I return this afternoon.

The note was unsigned, but the handwriting was unmistakable. It was the Beastcraftmaster himself. Veri wasn’t sure what to think of the tone of it, but she just smiled and patted the arching neck of her steed in a farewell before heading toward Greed’s stall to tack him. Olrina had finished bringing in her mare, and had handed him off when she caught the redhead moving off quickly, note in hand.

“Lady Verilyn, where are we going now?” she called, not hurrying to catch up.

Verilyn didn’t answer, just waggled her hand in the air in a ‘hurry’ motion and turned the corner. To her surprise, Nerick was standing there, the reins of the stallion in his large, strong hands. “I was told to give these to you.” he grumbled, clearly not happy with his runner-sitting duties. Shaking her head, the woman took them, giving a jerk to get the runner moving after her. When they returned to the daylight she took a penetrating look at the injured, lamed runner.

“well. He seems to be walking on it just fine.” she commented, watching the gait at a walk. “Nerick, will you trot him for me?” she asked, keeping her trained eye on Greed as she handed over the reins again.

Nerick sketched a salute and took them, heading off at a quick jog to encourage the right gait for his lady, “Is this good?” he called.

“Faster!” She nodded when he was going the right speed and watched. There was a little twitch in the way the runner moved, and she called a halt to the Guardsman and lifted her knee for a hand up. Nerick made quick work of boosting Verilyn into the saddle and she closed her eyes. Squeezing her legs gently, she asked for a walk and kept her eyes closed as she felt the movements with her body. Twice around and she asked him for the trot, again feeling his movements blindly. She felt the odd sensation that something was off, and her brow creased over her closed eyes.

“Pick him up to the canter!” she heard Olrina call, and Verilyn obliged. There! She had felt it. She took him back to the trot for a few paces and made him pick up the canter again. There it was again. She had it pinpointed now and was pleased with herself as her face lit with a glow to rival the sun. This was an easy fix, she decided.

The Lord Holder of Keroon had just arrived to the Beastcraft Hall on dragonback. Though he'd initially planned a visit to the Hall to check on the status of one of his prized race runners, Izayan had recently met with the holders of Keroon River Hold over the proposal of marriage to their daughter, only to find out that she was here. After a long few months of deliberation, having made several excuses that a busy schedule had kept him from being properly able to consider the marriage proposal agreements, Izayan had finally settled down on a decision to become engaged. 

Of course, Izayan's mother had been elated to hear it. He hadn't heard the end of it yet, and probably wouldn't until there had been a wedding and a baby on the way. She'd been certain that her son would never decide to take himself a wife and was just beside herself with worry over the matter. Izayan on the other hand, was certainly glad to be able to check 'Proper Marriage' off his to-do list of official Lord Holder duties however, he wasn't certain yet just how he felt about the betrothal on an emotional level. It was easy to accept the arrangement in a more practical, duty-bound light, but what of love? He'd spent the last few turns closing his heart to the possibility that such a thing could exist for him. So, what would become of his marriage then?

In those days since the official signing of agreements for his and Verilyn's betrothal had been signed, Izayan had not had much time to think about it, though he made a point of making a trip to meet his fiance in person as soon as possible, once he'd learned that the young woman had given up on marriage and relocated to the Beastcraft Hall. Thus, his second reason for visiting the Hall today.


After visiting for a few minutes with the Beastcraft Master, with whom he was well acquainted, Izayan was pointed in the direction of both his Runner, and where Verilyn should be located. Apparently Verilyn had been amoungst those who'd been seeing to the well being of his Runner -which made him start thinking that perhaps Runners were one thing they might have in common. And the prospect of their having some common ground between them other than being highborn, in Izayan's eyes, was a promising thought. And perhaps her love of Runners spoke something of her character?

Approaching the gated grounds where the injured runners were given exercise, Izayan found himself staring after the few people gathered there, searching their faces as he came closer, eventually leaning himself against the fence with one booted foot resting on the lowest rung of it. He was searching for the face of Verilyn, that was, if he could remember what she looked like from the painting of her that he'd seen. It had been a beautiful depiction and there was certainly no mistaking her fiery red hair, so that alone should have been enough to give her away. Though, red hair or not, he searched out her face with his eyes, looking for the beauty that he'd seen in the picture. Indeed, when he caught sight of her face, even at a side-profile view, she was beautiful.


Izayan did not make himself known to the two women and the man who exercised his runner; he wanted that they should be able to complete their task at hand so that when they were done, he could garner an accurate assessment of Greed's condition. So, for the time, he watched. At first, he watched Greed closely. But then, he found himself watching Verilyn. Not only because of just how pretty the girl was, but because of his new curiosity for her since it was she whom he would marry.

He wondered then if her parents had already sent word to Verilyn of their betrothal? 


Observing Verilyn bring Greed to a canter, he found himself warmed by the light of her lovely smile when the girl was apparently delighted by something in her thoughts. Secretly wondering at the inner thoughts and desires of his fiance, the Lord Holder continued to lean upon the fence row, a little surprised that the stunning green of his tunic and the loud style of the jacket he'd worn over it had not brought any attention to him yet. His person wore no cords or knots of rank, so there was nothing to distinctly speak of him as a significantly ranking person by attire alone, other than perhaps the quality of his cloth.

Verilyn's Outfit


Verilyn kept Greed working at the canter until she felt him dip into a light limp. The runner slowed his pace to a trot, then a walk, finally stopping beside Olrina as the woman looked down at her friend and maid. “Did you see it? He has trouble with the trot-canter transition and laminitis in his hind end.” She swung her leg over the runner’s side and loosened the girth on his saddle, “Help me untack him.” she told Olrina, who obligingly took off the saddle and pad. She noticed Nerick moving off toward the fence line, ignoring them, and shrugged. The Guardsman was probably just doing his job.

Once the runner was freed from his encumbrances, Verilyn had gone to his head and was slowly encouraging the stallion to lower his body to the ground. Greed, ever hyper as a racer often was, was refusing her orders and so, in accordance with the teachings of her Master, Verilyn chased the runner off. The enclosed space was a huge, round circle that no runner could escape from, and came handily equipped with the ability to partition off a smaller circle within, which Olrina did without being asked, keeping Verilyn and the runner in the smaller interior circle, and herself and Nerick without.

Verilyn was totally focused on the runner she was working. She saw, through her peripheral vision, that the circle they ran gradually got smaller, eventually giving them a much smaller space to work on. Whenever the stallion slowed, she chased him back up to speed, returning to the center of the circle as he continued circling her. Greed began to tire, keeping up the canter-gallop was hard work for him, but he still wasn’t giving her the cues she wanted. She needed him to trust her, to want to work with her, and that meant they needed to join up. Greed’s head stayed in their air, his tail carriage a proud, upright flag, ears perked forward. All of his body stated that he would be boss, but there would be no boss if Verilyn could manage the technique with the runner.

Several minutes passed as she kept eye contact with Greed, following him with her eyes as she continued her slow revolution in the center, and chasing him back to speed when it was necessary. Finally she saw that Greed was beginning to tire, his head began to droop and his tail began to flow out from his spine. But it still wasn’t enough, “Up! Up!” she shouted, making the runner speed up. It took even longer for him to tilt his head in toward her, licking his lips and asking her to let him slow down. Verilyn immediately turned her back on him, closing her eyes and waiting. This was the moment of truth. Would he come to her? Would they become a team as they needed to be?

Long moments passed as she waited with bated breath for the signal.

It came.

The sounds of walking hoof beats and a gentle touch on her shoulder told her that Greed was ready to work with her. She turned around and lay her head on his long nose, scratching his cheeks and murmuring softly as they gained trust in one another.

She sat down in front of the runner, waiting for him to join her on the lower plane, and Greed didn’t disappoint as he lowered himself into a laying position. Verilyn crawled to his hindquarters and settled herself in the circle of his legs and started massaging the stallion’s hip socket and surrounding muscles while he relaxed into the sensation and lay sprawled in the morning sun while she worked. “Did you see, Olrina? Did you? That was amazing!” she gushed, looking up and coming back to the world around her. She noticed that Nerick wasn’t watching next to the maid, and looked around while her hands worked the soreness in Greed’s hips. “Where’s Nerick?” she asked.

Nerick, without speaking, had walked to the fence line where the man clad in green had settled to watch his Lady work. “Excuse me, might I inquire as to why you are watching my Lady without announcing yourself?” Both women were watching the Guardsman speak to someone, but the way the man stood blocked the visitor from view.

Motioning Olrina out of the way, Verilyn called out through the inner circle, “Guardsman Nerick, do bring our guest to the inner circle so that I can see them properly, there’s no reason to protect me from a non-existent threat.” The man was a fabulous bodyguard, but overzealous and often mistaken on when she needed such official protection. After all, they had never had cause to need it at the Beastcraft Hall. Besides that, Nerick knew she was waiting for Greed’s owner and if this was him.... Well, she didn’t want the man to be offended. Moving the leg in the joint and palpating the muscles proved that the inflammation was disappearing and that the discomfort of his lameness was going with it.

From where she was, the Lady Verilyn watched as Nerick fought his inner demons and stiffened as he debated her words. Finally, still tense, he moved to the gate’s door and opened it, “Please, the Lady Verilyn would like a word.” he said, all but ordering the man through as he watched with careful eyes. No rank cords decorated the man, richly dressed as he was, and the note for his Lady had said nothing of the title of whom they were waiting for.

As Verilyn waited, she finished her massaging and working of the inflamed joint and muscles, giving the runner a pat on the rump as she stood and clucked at him, encouraging him to do the same. When they both stood erect again, the runner stretched himself and gave a happy little buck, coming down to nuzzle the flaming red hair tied back in its bun. The bridle was still attached, and she took hold of the reins. “Olrina, a hand?” she asked, catching her knee in a way to get boosted to the bare back of the stallion.

“Yes, Lady Verilyn.” Olrina replied, tucking the woman’s knee in her hands and using her legs to rise her to the back of the runner where Verilyn settled herself and gathered the reins properly. Olrina opened the inner circle and stepped back as Greed made his way through the door. Careful to ease Greed up to speed, Verilyn walked him a moment before asking for the trot. On the way back toward the Guardsman and Olrina with their guest, Verilyn asked for the canter and was pleased when there was no hitch in the transition. She brought him back down, then up again, feeling for the hitch from her beginning assessment. Finding none she brought Greed to a stop before the men and her maid.

“Good morning. I’m Lady Verilyn of Keroon River Hold, whom do I have the pleasure of addressing this fine day?” she asked, amiably. Her pleasure at fixing Greed’s inflammation and gait was clear in her tone, and Verilyn greeted the green-clad man with the respect and loftiness that she had had drilled into her by her father. Much to her surprise, Greed stepped forward and touched his head to the man’s shoulder, as he had done her after their join up, and she blinked in momentary confusion. It cleared from her face within seconds and she smiled once more, patting the runner on the neck.

The Lord Holder kept his eyes on the red-headed woman, suspecting that she was the Verilyn that he'd come looking for, until the man with her started his way. Still leaning over the fence rail, the shift in Izayan's attention from her to Nerick was slow to come, but as the guardsman neared, Izayan's eyes rested fully on him.

Seeing as how curtly the man addressed him and likewise judging the manner in which the man carried himself, he was likely a guard of some sort, whether it having been with the Hold proper or in private employ. The likeliness was more so that he was a Hold Guard given the woman he must be protecting. He didn't seem overly enthusiastic about the runners they were about, so Izayan doubted he was a beastcrafter of any sort. Then again, sometimes one could never tell. Sometimes people were indeed surprising.

Izayan's expression of some nonchalance did not alter as the man addressed him, though it did not matter how casual he might pretend to be, he had long ago learned how to bear that regal countenance most notable of a holder that displayed itself through perhaps every aspect of his manner. In the most appealing way he became a divine manifestation of charisma while seeming utterly confident; and utterly confident in asserting at least some measure of athority. Or rather, ignoring whatever authority the guardsman Nerick seemed to thing he had over him.

Seeming more amused than anything then, Izayan hesitated in his reply, having let his eyes search again in the direction of  Veryilyn.

"Is it a crime to be captivated by beauty? If so, then you would do better to hide the lady you seek to defend. Then you won't be faced with undesirable confrontations like this." The Lord Holder's mouth turned up in some whit of a devious grin,  his eyes having come to light in a measure of humour.

He went on quickly then, "The lady is very talented, is she not?" It must be a shame then, to some degree, that she would not be staying to continue in the Beastcraft for much longer.

Their Lady's voice came then, and Izayan brought his eyes back over Nerick's shoulder once more to glance her way. It seemed then that the Guardsman was hesitant to admit him into the arena -perhaps because of what he'd said, so Izayan fixed him with a moderately curious stare, wondering how long he would make his lady wait. But soon the gate was opened and The Lord Holder stepped through it.

Pausing in his step, Izayan did not walk past the man but instead took a moment to procure a folded letter from the inside breast pocket of the well-tailored jacket he wore. Extending the letter out to the man where it was held between Izayan's middle and index finger loosely for the taking, it would become apparent that the seal upon its front was that of Veryilyn's father. It had been sent by him.

"If you are so eager for something to do, Guardsman Nerick, then deliver this to your lady. She is the Lady Verilyn, isn't she? If she is not, then you will find Lady Verilyn for me and give that to her, wherever she may be."  

Handing the letter over to Nerick instead of giving it to Verilyn himself was more an act of establishing rank between them, as it was Izayan giving the orders. The Lord Holdere fully expected the guard to be baffled at just how brazenly he'd doled out orders, which made Izayan grin again, but regardless of the guardsman's reaction, Izayan clasped his hands at the small of his back, continuing his stroll forward. So when Nerick took the letter, Izayan approach where Verilyn and her maid now stood with Greed, Verilyn sitting astride the runner's back.

Closing distance between them, Izayan's eyes were on Greed for a moment, even as Verilyn greeted him. He was glad that Greed seemed to be recovering, wondering just how much longer before his fantastic steed would be racing again. With the runner's nudge to his shoulder, The Lord Holder was smiling, bringing one hand up to Greed's muzzle while the other stroked the side of the runner's neck similarly as Verilyn had done just then.

"Today, I am just a message runner for the Holder of Keroon River Hold." Casting another glance up to Verilyn, The Lord Holder continued somewhat conversationally, "If I am not mistaken, Keroon River's Holder is your father, is he not?"

Outfit


Nerick looked dumbfounded at the letter in his hand. When had that gotten there? He remembered the man, rudely he thought, handing it to him and informing him that it was for his Lady, but taking it from him? Nerick supposed his body lived to serve the Lady Verilyn and had acted of its own accord as a loyal Guardsman would have done. It wasn’t in his hand long, however, and even as he stared at it, he listened to the words between the two. A messenger from the main Hall? Nerick’s eyes snapped up and zeroed in on the man as Verilyn introduced herself. "If I am not mistaken, Keroon River's Holder is your father, is he not?"

"Today, I am just a message runner for the Holder of Keroon River Hold." the richly dressed, self-named messenger informed the Lady.

Verilyn looked down at the man, handsome in his own respects, but didn’t allow her mind to wander on the thought. She noticed the letter still held in Nerick’s hand, and instead of responding to the message runner, she plucked the letter from her Guardsman’s hand. If he was her father’s messenger, he was under her and could afford to wait. “Leave me, Nerick.” she said, her tone commanding and that of a Holder’s daughter. Shock registered on his face as he looked up at her, noticing the letter was now gone from his hand. When he didn’t move, she narrowed her eyes at him, “Now.”

Nerick winced at the tone, but delivered a deep bow and retreated, “As you wish, my Lady.” he said. He had been raised and trained that the words of his Lady were law, and if she wished him to leave - he would, for now. At least when Olrina was around to watch over their charge where he couldn’t. And besides that, the Lady Verilyn must appear to have her servants well in hand, and neither he nor Verilyn’s maid wished to tarnish her honor or training as a future Lady Holder, possible friendships or otherwise.

Her name was written in her father’s neat handwritting and sealed with the stamp of their house. It appeared unopened, and she quickly slid her nail beneath the wax to break it open.

My dearest daughter Verilyn,
I do so hope your time at the Beastcraft Hall has been informative and has helped you to find a measure of happiness. It is my dearest wish that you are happy in life, and I seek to do that now. Your mother and I have negotiated a betrothal for you to the Lord Holder Izayan of Keroon Hold.

We want nothing but the best for our eldest daughter, and the Lord Holder is your key to happiness in the rank you deserve. Your time at the Beastcraft Hall has ended for the time being. The Beastcraftmaster has received word, and it is likely that he will send runners on for you to work in your new home, and your mother has sent along your dearest possessions which you set aside for such a day as this.

The matter is not negotiable and we expect you, as our eldest daughter, to show the Hold that you are the Lady Holder of their dreams. We love you, daughter, and will see you for your engagement Gather.

~Father
Lord Holder Beryn.

“Yes,” she finally answered, her heart racing and her voice slightly faint. She had known the day would come. “The Lord Beryn is my father.” Verilyn composed herself, determined to make her father and mother proud. She was betrothed, she looked at the letter once again, and her fiance was named Izayan. Her thoughts tried to wander to what he was like, what he looked like but could not remember his face. Perhaps they had never met. Instead of letting them, Verilyn dismounted and stood at Greed’s head, “My apologies for my rudeness. Thank you for delivering the letter from such a distance. May I impose upon you to send a message to the Keroon Lord Holder?”

Nerick had retreated to a safe distance, and stood watching the play of the Lady’s features as she read the note she had taken from him. The face he had designated as her ‘Lady means business face’ came over her and she dismounted.

“Nerick!” he heard his named called, the curt voice of Verilyn cutting through the distance. He came running and stood, waiting. “Guardsman Nerick, ready our belongings. We may be leaving the Hall soon and I want us ready. I’ll also require your writing instruments and a sheet of stationary.” her words left no room for argument and he bowed again, and turning, inclined his head in acknowledgment of the other man’s presence.  

Noticing that Greed had become antsy, Verilyn released the catch on the runner’s bridle to let loose the bit and attached it along his cheek to the strap there and swatted him on the rump. The runner moved off and went to graze the morning dew covered grass. “I have never seen you in my father’s employ, are you of Keroon River Hold?” Verilyn asked, gracing the man with a smile. As she spoke, she removed the gloves from her hands, tucked them in a pocket and held it out to the man. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, no matter where you hail from.”

Verilyn’s mother disapproved of her daughter greeting anyone with bare hand, believing that they were often dirty creatures whose hands strayed to areas of disgust and filth with rarely the time for it to be cleaned from their person. The young woman herself believed that all people deserved the courtesy of respect, no matter where their path had led them in life, and she made a habit of treating people well.

Izayan watched patiently as the Lady of Keroon River Hold read the message written by her father. Glad that at least there was no mournful expression to be found there, the Lord Holder supposed that she was a very dutiful daughter, caring more about the honour of her family and her duty to them, than her own self-interest. That was a positive trait to have instilled in a girl raised as a holder's daughter. In that case, there was one more reason for Izayan to believe that she would make a good Lady Holder for he and all of Keroon one day. The thought brought another faint smile to his lips.


Verilyn dismounted and stood at Greed’s head, “My apologies for my rudeness. Thank you for delivering the letter from such a distance. May I impose upon you to send a message to the Keroon Lord Holder?”

"You may." Dipping his head in a bow to her, Izayan had kept his hand on the runner until Verilyn moved to remove the bit from its mouth and then swatting Greed's rump so that the steed would move off to graze.

The man's eyes followed the runner then, but were soon attentive of the Lady Verilyn again. Izayan looked into her eyes taking a moment to appreciate the lovely, light hue of them as she requested writing utensils and then turned to him.


“I have never seen you in my father’s employ, are you of Keroon River Hold?” Verilyn asked, gracing the man with a smile. As she spoke, she removed the gloves from her hands, tucked them in a pocket and held it out to the man. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, no matter where you hail from.”

Lowering his head in a curt bow out of appreciation for his fiance's thoughtful words, Izayan, offered another soft smile that seemed to have found its way all too easily upon his lips as he took the Lady's hand. Pressing her hand with a gentle strength between his fingers as he bowed himself in slight, bringing the back of her hand to his lip, the hand was kissed, though he did not immediately release it. Instead, for a few seconds longer, as he stood tall, lowering her hand, he kept a claim on it, letting that physical touch linger.

"Lady Verilyn, I serve Keroon Hold, not Holder Beryn. I just so happened to be at your father's hold on business and he asked me to deliver his letter to you since my next stop was here. I also have a need to discover the condition of Greed. Keroon Hold likes its racing runners to be in top condition, as you likely know."

Even as he'd finished speaking those thoughts, Izayan kept a gently firm hold on her hand, as though he'd forgotten what measure of physical contact were entirely appropriate of a newly betrothed woman -especially the likes of a woman now betrothed to the Lord Holder of Keroon. Of course, he may not have known what was written within the contents of the letter.

"If you are going to write a letter to Keroon, should we go inside? That seems like it would be easiest. Perhaps you can tell me how Greed has been recovering, as we walk?"

Outfit

Verilyn smiled as the man took her hand and kissed it. She couldn't help noticing that he was a rather handsome man, but the letter seemed to burn in her hands as she watched him bent over her in that moment. When he didn't let it go immediately, she pulled it back, giving no uncertain terms that it had been inappropriate,  and tucked it behind her so that he wouldn't be tempted to try the manuver again. Verilyn heard Olrina snort quietly behind her, no doubt noticing the moment of hesitation before her charge had removed her hand from the messengers.

"Good messenger, I thank you for your interest but I just recieved word that I am betrothed to the Lord Holder of Keroon. I would advise you to be more appropriate in the future." the woman announced, her voice firm. But as he continued speaking, informing her of his actual employ at the Hold, Verilyn blinked in surprise. He had been at her Hold and the main Hold. Perhaps he was the envoy for the discussion of her own engagement. Had he known she was to be married when he held her hand for so long? Her eyes narrowed at him, how dare he try to tempt her with his wiles if he knew! Perhaps it had been a test, though. She mused, to see if she would behave as a Lady should in that respect. Well. She had no doubt that she had done so - and would continue to do so. Verilyn realized she would have to take great care to make sure the handsome messenger didn't try to tempt her into behaviors that were inappropriate for an engaged woman. Olrina would help with that as well, she knew, and once again, the Lady was grateful that her friend and maid was there to keep her on the straight and narrow in her dealings with the men of the Halls and Holds.

"As for writing, and going inside," she continued, her voice warming a bit from her previous tone, "I would much prefer to be out here with the runners but it is much more practical to use a desk to write. And, as you are the one I have been waiting for to discuss Greed, I think it would be well for me to tell you what you came to know." instead of giving the man a chance to take her hand again, Verilyn reached down and hefted the saddle along her arm to rest on her shoulder and walked to his side.

"I am unsure of how long you  have been watching, though by Nerick's reaction it must have been a good while. When I took him out to work him, I noticed a bit of laminitis in his hindquarters and soreness in his muscles. It would seem to me that someone of the Hold has been taking Greed out in the night and overworking him or performing illegal races with him. This kind of injury is usually caused by forcing a runner to run up or down hill at high speeds without proper warm up." she paused to let him take that in, and wondered who would dare take the Lord Holder's prize racers out for that sort of activity. She rather enjoyed a good runner race, but doing so illegally and placing an animal at risk? Unforgivable.

"In my treatment of Greed, for it is indeed myself who will be facilitating his recovery, I employed what I call a 'join-up' technique that establishes a bond of trust and herd leadership between himself and me - placing me above him. When I had him as my partner instead of working against me, I massaged the joints and muscles to relieve inflammation and tension which gave him the full flexation of his hindquarters again and has begun to make it easier for him to return to normal movement." she stopped again, having walked the distance from the training ground to the stabling center where the runners were kept.

Inside, she set the saddle in the tack room and left it for later to clean and oil properly. Olrina followed them at a distance that was neither too far, nor too close. Verilyn, hands now emptied of the saddle she had carried, tucked her hands in a clasp behind her at the small of her back. Turning to face the messenger, she nodded toward a room farther down the stable aisle that would give them a bit of privacy and a writing table. It also happened to be by Kirazerin's stall, which more or less gave it to Verilyn's private use. "We can use my office," she started, walking toward the open door, "As for how long it will take Greed to recover, I would say a sevenday of therepy and muscle work would give him the best chance of returning to full racing strength and perhaps another sevenday before he can begin his heavy training again."

Finally in the room, Verilyn went and sat behind the desk, offering the messenger a chair before her, which Olrina kindly pulled out for the man. "You never told me your name, messenger of Keroon Hold. How may I address you?" the woman asked, smiling at him in a friendly (but not too friendly way. No need to give this man delusions of interest from her - even though he was awfully handsome. Olrina went to stand aside in the room after seating the man.

Nerick soon joined them, no doubt having watched their departure from the pasture where they had left the runner. He set parchment stationary, writing utensils and a low candle under a small metal bowl that held melting wax before her. The wax, a lovely yellow-green that looked like pasture grass with darker greens swirled within it, was Verilyn's customary color of her Hold and she smiled. Trust  Nerick to make sure that was in their supplies. "Thank you, Guardsman Nerick. You may retire to the door outside. Close it behind you." He bowed slightly, and turned on heel to walk out. He knew that her orders were that of her Lady status and that his obeying them promptly reflected as much on himself as it did on his Lady.

Verilyn took the ink quill in hand, a new contraption she didn't use often - preferring to give her words in person when necessary - and paused to think about what she would say to her future husband.

Lord Holder Izayan,
I have, just today, recieved the word that we are to be married. I admit that I do not think we had the pleasure of meeting before our parents arranged our betrothal, but I am pleased at the news. At this time I am training at the Beastcraft Hall under the Beastcraftmaster, and am, in fact, working with the recovery of one of your Hold's runners - Greed. You may rest assured that I have every intention of following through with the marriage, and have made preparations for moving to your Hold.

It is my hope that our marriage will allow us to get to know each other as time goes on, and despite the arranged nature of our relationship, I hope that one day I will come to love you for the man you are. I look forward to meeting you, and working toward the mutual interest of making Keroon prosper.

The Lady Verilyn of Keroon River Hold

Her neat, flowing script was a sight to behold and she reread the words, checking for missed punctuation and misspellings before nodding in satisfaction. The letter would do, for now. She blew lightly on the ink, drying it. As she lifted the parchment, Olrina flitted forward and spritzed something on the paper, grinning wildly. "To make him think of your scent." the maid grinned, impishly.

"Olrina! My scent is that of leather soap, fresh hay and runners. Not whatever flowery concoction you just sprayed! Besides, what does he care if the letter smells nice? Don't do that again." she grumbled, annoyed that she now had to send a scented letter like some besotted woman. Verilyn sighed. "Great... Now he will think I'm some lovesick fool like my sisters."

When the wax was melted, Verilyn poured a small amount beneath her name in the letter and pulled a cord from around her neck. The signet ring her father had made her for her own mark was threaded on the slim gold chain that she pulled over her head. A fleur de lis wrapped around the letter V was her personal insignia, and those practiced in reading such marks would also see the mark of a runner's shoe in the design as well. It was much less obvious than the ornate fleur de lis however. She pressed the signet to the cooling, hardening wax and rocked it to get a good impression and folded the letter. On the outside of it, she dipped the wax on the parchment again, this time placing the second signet, the one identifying her as the Heir of Keroon River Hold, on the front in a larger wax seal. Verilyn grinned at the design the wax made, swirling well with the colors of the Hold and making a rather pretty color pattern. She used lovely calligraphy, drilled into her at the Harper Hall, to write 'Lord Holder Izayan' on the front of the letter, near the seal. A grinned played on her face; she had written a letter to her fiance.

"Well. That's done I guess." she said, releasing the breath she didn't realize she was holding and slipping the necklace back around her neck. She saw no reason to wear rings all the time. Those who didn't know her firey red hair (enough of a identifier itself, she thought), would know her soon enough. Besides, jewelry was so hard to keep clean in a messy place like a stable. Verilyn handed the letter to the messenger. Leaning back in her chair she tried to relax for a moment, "I do so hope the man is not an old pervert." she sighed, "I wouldn't put it past my parents to betroth me to the highest bidder for a good match, old or not." she hoped they would take into account her age. "What, if anything, do you know of the Lord Holder messenger?" she asked, still not having a name to call him by.

Izayan did well to hide the amused grin that would have otherwise sprouted across his expression as Verilyn reclaimed her hand from him. He was indeed glad to know that she was proper as a Lady Holder should be, as if she were not a prime candidate for his marriage, he could end the agreement of their betrothal at any time. Because, though Izayan's own mother had been a Lady's maid and a mere consort of the late Lord Holder, having not even distant relations to the Holding family nor any other truly highborn family, Izayan was of the belief that not just any woman had a right to produce an heir for one such as a Lord Holder. It simply wasn't proper. Thus, it was good of Verilyn to be mindful of her behaviour, lest he begin to associate her with a whole different class of persons. In his eyes though, it also showed her respect for herself and her family, which is something he valued in the character of a woman. It was a trait that was perhaps equally as important as birthright. 

On the behalf of the lowborn who had such lofty ideas of equality, it was a rather senseless belief. Pointless even, because even was there no high title like that of Lord Holder, there would always exist people in the world who thought themselves above the rest, who would bow low the drudges of society. And in his defense, it was a Lord Holder's duty to keeping order and peace amoungst the people, which was accomplished by creating hierarchies like those that had existed for so long.


Izayan ignored Orlina's snort, having caught it as well. He was unable then to keep the amusement completely concealed as his eyes momentarily danced sidelong and his mouth painted into the faintest hint of a grin.

"You'll have to forgive my impertinence."


When Verilyn went on in a less sharp tone about his suggestion, he nodded easily in acquiescence to visiting her office here, instead. As the woman began walking that direction then, Izayan followed alongside her, hands clasping behind his back. The Lord Holder listened to what she had to say with intent interest, but his attention hung on the fact that it appeared as though the runner had been abused in some fashion. Anger briefly flashed through his eyes as the corners of them tightened as though they might narrow. Izayan mind turned to considering those he knew who may have been responsible for overworking the beast. He would certainly make a point of getting to the bottom of the matter when he returned to Keroon Hold -and then severely punishing those responsible. 

All tenseness in his expression then seemed to fade as Verilyn assured him it would be another sevenday or two before the runner would be in racing condition again. That was good. There were races coming up and Izayan wanted for Greed to win. Because that is what Greed did -win.  'Greed' demanded everything that wasn't already his.


Nodding along as Verilyn continued about her methods of working with the runner, Izayan was impressed by her methodology and her considerate knowledge of runners, finding himself more and more interested in talking to her the more she revealed that she knew. 

When she had put the bridle away, he motioned for her to lead the way to her office, following behind her as she did so. 


"You never told me your name, messenger of Keroon Hold. 

Izayan thought for a moment what he should say, having found it to his delight to leave his fiance unaware of just who he was yet. It was more interesting perhaps, to see Verilyn at ease around him and in her own element rather than acting the more formal way that most people did when they knew whose presence they were in. He might even be able to get to know her better this way -a way that was less inhibited. With that thought in mind, Izayan let another faint grin play across his expression as Nerick passed by him, exiting the office and closing its door behind him.

"I am only of some insignificant relation to the Late Lord Holder Yongmun's family, thus, my name and station are unimportant."

The man watched her start to write then, and thought her script very beautiful. She had a well-trained hand indeed. As perhaps he should have expected, but he continued to let himself be impressed.

While Verilyn wrote her thoughts down, Izayan paced slowly across a narrow margin of floor beyond her chair so as not to disturb her, though he did periodically try to peek to read what she'd put down. As a 'messenger' though, he didn't want to be nosy. Not to mention, it would be nice to read it at length in its entirety later, when he could appreciate her words in the privacy of his own thoughts at home. He'd crossed his arms over his chest at some point, bringing that right hand to his lips where he bit at his thumbnail idly -perhaps in a habit of impatience or curiosity as he was eager to know everything that her letter detailed.



His eyes followed Orlina as she took a perfume and spritzed it over the writing skin, eventually waving a hand in front of him to waft any lingering scent away so that it didn't stick to himself. After Orlina explained her purpose for doing so, the Lord Holder could not suppress the smile that came over him with unheard inner laughter. It amused him that girls thought to do such things. It was cute and might mean something to him later as he read the letter by himself, but he didn't want either of them to realize just how entertained he was by it all so he turned the smile down, angling his head away and tried to hide the grin behind his hand, going back to biting his thumbnail.

Watching his fiance close the letter and seal it then, the Lord holder looked for signs of excitement and enthusiasm in her, wondering just what she must be feeling. Certainly there was some apprehension? She just wasn't speaking it.

Well, he thought she wasn't going to speak her apprehension. But then Veyani voiced her curiosity aloud, at which point Izayan fought another urge to chuckle. In fact, he wished he could have laughed aloud, because it shocked him and amused him both, that Verilyn, being as proper as she was, so unabashedly shared the truth of her thoughts. And in a fashion that ignored any more politically correct sensibilities. Even if she'd wondered aloud at what he was like, there were other words that could have been chosen. Still, her boldness with those words had him tickled.

What kind of person was Lord Holder Izayan? Well, he wasn't old, nor a pervert; at least, he had a hard time thinking of himself in that light.

As the Lady Verilyn then turned her question on him, Izayan brought his arms down so that his hands could come together behind his back once more. "Tell me, what would you like to know of him? Since it is you who asked, I will certainly answer you as best I can, Lady Verilyn."

Izayan's dark brow lifted in slight after that, showing his curiosity and eagerness to help her understand her fiance a little more, if he could do so, before she was married off to him.

Outfit


"Tell me, what would you like to know of him? I will certainly answer you as best I can, Lady Verilyn." the messenger supplied, surprising her. He would tell her about the man she was to marry. Remembering that he had once tried to tempt her, Verilyn decided that she would be careful with what she asked, keeping it utterly appropriate. Olrina hadn’t complained about it, in fact she hadn’t made a sound yet. The woman’s eyes strayed to her maid, trying to get a cue from her, but Olrina just nodded to her. Well. Apparently this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing to be doing.

“Alright, then, messenger of No Name. Perhaps you could tell me if my fiance” the word was delivered with a giddy tone, “is an old pervert or not. And perhaps some of his own interests. I do rather hope that he enjoys runners as much as I do, and won’t disagree with my working on difficult cases in whatever spare time I may have.” she said, noticing that Olrina was grinning behind her hand and trying to hide it. Did she know something Verilyn did not? Her maid was refusing to look at the messenger, and was in fact going to great lengths not to do so. The Lady chocked it up to being appropriate and trying not to react to the handsomeness they were in the room with. “Olrina, if you can’t handle yourself facing into the room, turn your back and watch Greed in the pasture. I won’t have you acting like a child.”

Verilyn couldn’t very well send her maid from the room of course, but she could order her to behave or leave her employ - which she didn’t want to do to a friend. Olrina shot a glare at the man that spoke words Verilyn couldn’t translate, and turned to keep an eye on the bridled runner in the pasture.

“Perhaps you can tell me how he feels about me as a future wife, if you happen to know such things. I hope he doesn’t intend for me to be subservient to him.” Verilyn’s temper flared for a moment, but she took deep breaths and repressed it, refusing to look any less the Lady than her previous comment made her seem. She certainly shouldn’t have said such words in front of the Lord Holder’s own messenger.

The Lord holder passed his gaze between the maid and her Lady as they seemed to communicate through furtive glances. He didn't say anything, but soon quietly cleared his throat, bringing himself to square the Lady Verilyn as she began to ask her first question. Again, he found himself tickled by her; this time by the sudden giddiness in her tone.

Izayan's brow quirked this time, "Well, you put me in a difficult situation when you ask it like that. I'm not sure it's entirely appropriate to call the Lord Holder a Pervy old man, even if he were; but from what I know of him, he is not. Though..." And Izayan paused to give his words a suspenseful measure before letting his voice lower in volume as though to keep a secret just between the three of them, "I have heard that he has a voracious sexual appetite."

That last part was added just to see what kind of reaction he could elicit from the girl. Would Verilyn blush, or would her maid think his saying so was entirely inappropriate? Would Verilyn be intimidated by what images might arise over the thought that her future husband was some sort of wild beast when it came to fornication? He waited a moment to see.

Rocking back on his heels a moment as his eyes followed Orlina's gaze through the window to where Greed grazed, he pondered the rest of her inquiry, "Hmmm... Well, I think you two will find that you have that in common at least. Lord Holder Izayan does enjoy his runners. In fact, he insists on attending most of the races that take place in Keroon Hold." The man nodded at that before going on quickly to answer her next question, "The Lord Holder put much thought into who he would marry. There is a lot of pressure from those around him to do so, for the sake of producing an heir, as I'm sure you can understand. But, he did not rush into the decision. I think his mother also seemed to favour you, Lady Verilyn, over other prospective brides. It is anticipated that your match will be a good one. And I do believe that the Lord Holder is enthusiastic about taking a wife." At that, Izayan smiled, hoping that she would be glad to hear those words.

"As for his preference in women, you'll just have to ask him." The man's tone dropped, making it clear that he either didn't know, or assumed something that she may not want to hear, and that it would be best to get her information straight from the source. As a messenger, he wouldn't get himself involved in the middle of something that would lead to any kind of lover's quarrel. But, there was obviously no promise in his words that Verilyn would get the answer she was hoping for, if he'd gauged by her expression right. As a messenger, it simply wasn't one's place to speak of those sorts of things.

Outfit

A pervy old man was just the person she didn’t want to be married to, so it was just as well that the messenger had taken her fear of that particular trait from her. “Though..." she heard him say, pausing to lower his voice, "I have heard that he has a voracious sexual appetite." Verilyn tried to keep the laughter from her face, and suppressed the quirk in the corner of her mouth that threatened to let her explode with the humor of the words. Almost failing in her mission, the woman turned her head and hid her mouth in her hand for a moment to compose herself.

Olrina, for her part by the window, snorted by clapped her hands over her mouth. Verilyn could see her shoulders shaking from the effort to be silent with her own laughter. Their mutual laughter stemmed from the fact that she was at the Beastcraft Hall with a bodyguard and maid to keep her from the exact actions that her future husband seemed to enjoy - voraciously. And Olrina was the only one who knew just how often Verilyn thought about the first time she would lay with a man, the man being her husband. Taking a calming, deep breath the Lady composed herself and let her mind return to the messenger’s words.

The maid, controlling herself before her charge could, turned from the window with a severe look on her face. “Messenger, you will comport yourself in a manner befitting the presence of a Lady or leave immediately.” she informed him, drawing herself in a way that suggested she would protect Verilyn’s honor with her own if necessary.

“Peace, Olrina. I’m sure the man meant no disrespect, and remember - I did ask the question of his pervy-ness. I’m sure that invited the comment in its own regard.” Verilyn said, using logic to calm her maid.

The man spoke, then, answering her next question in much better behavior, though Verilyn rather enjoyed that he would speak to her as if she were the grown woman that she was, and not some Lady to be coddled. She nodded along with his words, most particularly those of heir producing - that was why she was guarded against the wiles of the Beastcraft men (whom honestly hadn’t shown interest inappropriately anyway). Heirs were something Verilyn was rather excited about, she loved children. The pressure to marry was something she was also well aware of, as she had been a marriage prospect since her menarche, and it had taken years for her to come to where she was now. In fact, she thought, she had been very close to being home free and not having to marry.

“And I do believe that the Lord Holder is enthusiastic about taking a wife." the words made Verilyn’s face light up with pride. Not only was she suitable to his family, whom she hoped to impress and prove her worth for such a marriage to, but the Lord Holder found her suitable as well. "As for his preference in women, you'll just have to ask him." she heard him finished, but didn’t care. It was enough for her that she had been found worthy enough for consideration, and then finally as the future wife of the man.

Verilyn sat for a moment, thinking of what she wanted to know. Possessions, unless they were runners, were not a thing that she valued in a potential husband. After all, material things were easily lost or destroyed. But a sense of style would show off her own and the woman decided that it was a decent question to ask of the man, “Does the Lord Holder Izayan enjoy clothing as you yourself seem to do?” she asked him, commenting on the richly made clothing he wore. It seemed shallow to only ask about such impersonal things and her mind wandered toward asking about personal beliefs.

Squaring herself and leaning forward on the desk toward the pacing messenger, a lock of wavy red hair escaping her bun and framing her face in the process, Verilyn looked directly into the eyes of the man she was questioning, “How does my Lord Holder feel about dragonriders, tithes and thread?” she asked him, her voice turning serious. She was sure the conversation would come up between herself and Izayan sometime and she sincerely hoped his own thoughts were similar to hers.

As Izayan watched the women try to hide their amusement at his initial commentary, he pretended not to notice, letting his feet pace again. He hadn't necessarily been looking forward to any particular response from them in light of the voracious appetites part, so it pleased him that they had gotten a little laugh out of it. Maybe when they were gone from here, they would go back to Lady Verilyn's quarters and let their laughter out for a good long while. Though... he hoped she realized he might just be partly serous.

When Orlina turned to scold him, the Lord Holder was in a decidedly good enough mood to tolerate it, and figured that it was just part of the reaction he'd anticipated he might receive, so there was no use getting upset over her use of sharp words with him. The wry grin that perked up at the corners of his lips just so, did not disappear when she berated him for his unnecessary commentary.


He'd been about to ask her what more she might want to know about her future husband, but Izayan saw his fiance mulling over questions already. And when she asked them, he was ready again to give his best reply. He was beginning to enjoy this game.

"Clothing?" The Lord Holder mused aloud. "It seems we do have similar taste in attire. The Lord Holder is generally quite conscious of his appearance." Having been about to ask why she asked, just out of idle curiosity, Izayan held his tongue for her to continue with another question. This particular question however, he was surprised at the depth of.

"Hmmmm. That is another question that I'm not sure a mere messenger would be able to answer sufficiently. I have never known Lord Izayan to skimp on his tithes to the Weyrs. He has not shown myself any detestation for them. Of course, from my understanding, he is vehemently against their intrusion into any Hold affairs. I do think that he holds his own opinions about Thread, but won't speak of it. Tithes are a long-upheld convention that have been respected by generations past and I'm not sure he finds any reason to upset the balance in Hold-Weyr relations to challenge the necessity of whether or not a Hold should tithe. There's also the question of, what if the Holds did not tithe for belief that Thread would never return, only to find out that the Weyrs were right? Would the people be left unprotected because they failed to support the Dragonriders when they were first in need?"

Izayan paused for a bit of a mental shrug that may have moved through his expression with the raise of his brows again, and a bit of a lopsided smirk that came to rest upon his lips. "Testing that theory is a risk that most Lord Holders are not willing to take -at least not for another few turns." Not until after turn 508 when Thread was supposed to have returned. "It could turn out detrimental to them later."

Slow pace having come to a halt, Izayan wondered aloud to Verilyn then, "Anything more you would like to know about your Lord Holder?"

He thought about going on to make his own suggestions, but stopped short of simply making a couple of brief mentions instead, "I can tell you that within the Hold, he is known for having a temper, and being relatively intolerant. He does enjoy music though, and frequents the baths and saunas for relaxation. Generally, he keeps to himself about his personal life and innermost thoughts, though it is assumed because he still suffers from some depression after the loss of his previous fiance. Which is supposedly why he did not marry for so long."

Outfit

Well... Maybe not the same views as herself, but close enough that she could tolerate them. Besides, she often had to deal with the tithes from their Hold, and she had heard of the dragonrider’s taking extra tithes from crafthalls when something caught their fancy. She hated their entitled airs and the way they treated people they thought were below them. The lesser colored dragonriders were marginally more polite, supposedly because of dragon colorism in the Weyrs. The Harpers had their theories and she had heard many of them in her time there. The general consenus was that the Weyr at least believed in its cause and not many thought they would abandon Pern to the ravages of its ancient enemy. Her father certainly didn’t think that, but then their Hold tried to tithe in a timely manner to the main Keroon tithe, and had had little reason to think their land would be abandoned.

Verilyn’s face was still all business as he spoke, nodding and absorbing what information she could. The man’s smirk made her grin and she tried to hide it, there would not be talk of this Lady falling for the wiles of a messenger, no matter how handsome and witty he was. Briefly she wondered just how long she should question the messenger about the man she was to marry, but only one pressing question was at the fore of her mind. Many men, husbands and those not attached, were cruel and abusive. But the man had begun speaking again before she could ask, and the Lady decided to wait to ask that particular question.

"I can tell you that within the Hold, he is known for having a temper, and being relatively intolerant. He does enjoy music though, and frequents the baths and saunas for relaxation. Generally, he keeps to himself about his personal life and innermost thoughts, though it is assumed because he still suffers from some depression after the loss of his previous fiance. Which is supposedly why he did not marry for so long."

There was a lot of information in his statement that she had to pick apart. Her mind traced over each comment on the Lord Holder, filing it away for future use. Olrina had heard the line about music and deftly moved to the corner of the office where Verilyn often kept her violin and placed the open case near the redhaired woman. Verilyn’s mind focused on the fact that he had lost his previous fiance long ago. He couldn’t be the man her parents had tried to force her to marry shortly after Chira’s death. He couldn’t be. But he was. He had to be, there was hardly talk of other young men losing their fiances, and she had not mourned the loss of anyone else so highly ranked.

She had refused him then, and her mind raced now. Was he so far gone with his fiance that he would never come to love her as she intended to love him? She was to be devoted to her husband, but what if thoughts of his lost love kept his emotions from her entirely? Tears prickled her eyes as she thought of how devastated she would be to lose the man she had loved like he had lost his. To hide her expression, Verilyn tamed her face to calmness and lifted the Master-crafted violin from the case. The wood of it had the same streaked red in its natural colors as her hair, and was polished to a soft shine.

The violin, tuned to perfection, was well-kept and Verilyn was extremely good at the instrument. Her teacher, after all, believed that a woman should be able to play an instrument in the best of company, and Verilyn had had a knack for this particular one. She took a deep breath, stood and pulled the bow over the strings. The song the played was difficult and intricate, a Master’s life’s work in the writing and she had played it for her violin mastery. Verilyn thoroughly enjoyed herself while playing the instrument and she lost herself in the moment until the song faded to silence, ringing the last notes in the office.

Outside she heard clapping, probably from Nerick and some of the working stablehands she often played for. Bowing, as if for an invisible full audience, Verilyn set the instrument back in its case, “I think he will be pleased with my music, then. I love to play it when it’s nice out. It’s relaxing to me.” that was to say nothing of writing the music as she had at the Harper Hall as part of her composition classes. “Tell me, Messenger,”she used the word as a name now, since she didn’t have one to call him by, “Was Lord Holder Izayan’s previous fiance named Chira? I remember mourning her loss and my father trying to force me to marry the man the day after she passed. I was furious, and I am having trouble now thinking he would want a wife other than that woman - did he choose this of his own free will or was he forced into it?” Her face lit with anger at the thought that someone would force one who had loved another so fully into a marriage he didn’t want, to a woman who wanted to be loved... Even if the love came after time had gone by.

She found that she couldn’t look at the messenger at that moment, her fury was refusing to be hidden in her calm mask as a Lady often did, and she laced her fingers to keep her hands from trembling in her anger. It was like her father to try and force the hand of the Lord Holder. Verilyn’s anger was forced toward her father and not the man who had become her fiance. But... The messenger had said that the Lord Holder had chosen her himself, that surely meant his hand wasn’t being forced. “My only other question, Messenger, is a delicate one. I mean no offense for asking it, but it is a worry of mine. That is to say, I have never heard rumor of this from him but...” she trailed off, closing her eyes and ducking her head away from him, “Is the Lord Holder once who takes his pleasure in beating his wife?” her voice trailed off, the worry edging it.

“I can take many things from a man, Messenger, but I cannot and will take a cruel and abusive husband. I have every intention of loving the man in time, and I sincerely hope that I can come to love him... But I do not want to fear Izayan, or be afraid for my life as I know some women are with their husbands.” Olrina had been one of those women. Her brief marriage had ended when her abusive husband had been killed in a fight at a tavern, and the maid had never taken another man. The maid’s eyes closed and her head turned sharply toward the window to watch Greed once more. Verilyn was sorry for bringing up the pain of it in front of the woman, and she knew that Olrina knew. Verilyn had seen the beating marks on her, witnessed broken ribs and had paid handsomely for her maid’s wounds to be seen by a Healer of the highest caliber. She had then taken Olrina as her personal maid, and the two had been friends ever since.

The only other person who knew of that was Nerick, and he had sworn to protect the women from men who sought their fancy with Olrina and Verilyn. The Lady suspected that he actually had feelings for her maid, and reminded herself to try and get them some time together. Alone. “Forgive me, I know it is an uncouth thing to ask of you. But I implore you, answer truthfully. No word of it will cross my lips once you have spoken the answer to me, I swear it on the honor of my Hold.”

Izayan had clapped quietly along with the rest of them at Lady Verilyn's small performance, though he would appreciate hearing her play even more once they'd come to an appropriate time and place for her to play through multiple pieces. It would be a delight to hear, surely. She seemed talented in both the Beastcraft and the Harpercraft.

He might have gone on to assure her that the Lord Holder would very likely be pleased by her music-making, only Verilyn hopped on to a very different topic. It was a topic that transformed a visage of divine perfection into one that became shadowed. The previous smile that had rested easily upon his lips faded as he seemed to be taken by surprise at her recollection of the name. More than anything, Chira's name coming up in their conversation was just unexpected.

From there, he listened to all of her thoughts, fears and even Verilyn's apparent greatest concern until there was no more she felt she had to ask. He figured he couldn't be upset at her for asking the questions that she did, because he had also prompted her doing so. So, it was only fair that she should ask whatever question she wanted. That didn't mean however, that he had to answer them.

" 'That woman' exists in memory only;" The words were stated a bit flatly. "Memories will eventually fade, and when they have faded, the things that are in them will be forgotten. Forgotten things cannot elicit emotion like love or hate. However," Izayan paused for a breath, "that does not mean that wounds from the past have healed. I would assume either way, it is only natural for two people to take some time in getting to know and love one another."

Addressing what must have been her final concerns, Izayan continued, "A lady such yourself should know that there are none within a Lord's territory who can argue with the Lord Holder or assert their will over his. You are mistaken, Lady Verilyn, if you think that Lord Holder Izayan would be so easily controlled. Please try to have more faith in your fiance."

Of course, his words had not exactly answered her inquiry, but they were sufficient to dispel her worry. Or at least, they should have been.

"Lord Holder Izayan has never made a hobby of fighting girls, so it is unlikely that you should have to fear on that account. Again, please try to have faith in your future husband and I'm sure that he will do the same for you. For the both of you, that will be an important step in your relationship."

Though the man did not necessarily display a great deal of displeasure over the topics she'd brought to the forefront of their conversation, his smile had not yet returned.

Outfit

The man’s lack of answer was enough answer for Verilyn on the subject of Chira. It was just as well, she hated to dwell on the past as well and if she could be instrumental in helping him to love again, she would be. The change in the man’s tone was also evident, and the woman was more than happy to return to normal conversation, “You are most correct about having faith. I only hope I have not offended you; truly that was not my intention.” She did not apologize, it was below a Lady to apologize for something that had been asked of her anyway, but she did feel remorse for causing the man any pain. Chira must have been well loved if a messenger held such emotion for her. Her mind pieced together that it was the man she suspected, but that had been time and a half ago, and surely the two of them had both matured far past their initial youth.

A knock sounded at the door, “My Lady Verilyn?” came the call, one of the stablehands.

“Come.” she said, her head turning to look at the door. When the man came in, he was carrying what had to be the nicest cutlery and place settings the Beastcraft Hall had to offer. The globe covering one of the serving dishes gleamed and the carafe he carried was balanced precariously on his arm. Olrina moved to help him and unloaded the man’s arms onto the desk.

“Forgive me, it may not be what you are used to at the Hold, sir and lady, but I hope our humble meal is enough to break your fast with.” He lifted the globe revealing a ceramic bowl of eggs, cheese, meats spiced to sausage crumble, tubers and other delicious scents. Warm bread and fresh butter sat to the side and ground pepper and sea salt were in a small dish beside it. “The carafe has klah, the kind we serve to the ranking people who come to visit. We have a little Benden white or red wine if you prefer it.”

Verilyn smiled, nodding her head toward the food and speaking graciously, “I am sure the food is amazing, thank you for thinking of us this morning. If you have other duties to be about, I’m sure Olrina can serve us. Unless my guest would like some wine?” her words were a kind dismissal, and the man shook his head, indicating that he didn’t mind. The messenger could ask as he pleased for wine, but Verilyn would pass - at least for now.

Another gesture allowed Olrina to place the three plates at the table, serving the scramble neatly and pouring the klah without spilling a drop. “Creme, my Lady?” she asked, lifting a small dish. Verilyn nodded. Just enough to color the klah and the maid stopped, “Sir Messenger?” she asked, offering the creme to him as well. She waited for him to reply, neatly waiting as a well-trained maid would.

Verilyn turned her attention to the stablehand as he stood at the door, “When you have retrieved anything my guest needs would you please see to Greed? He needs a warm mash with vitamins added, and some of the dried seaweed power we used for Kirazerin.” her smile was kind and the man, she had seen him a few times before, likely knew that she would be doing her part in the chores when her guest departed.

“I would be happy to, Ver- ahh... Lady Verilyn.” he said, smiling. “Could you.... Would you play for us again? Your music earlier was beautiful. That is to say we would appreciate... If you have time...” his question was hesitant, as if he didn’t know how to address her when she was in her role as a Lady.

In response, Verilyn picked up the instrument again, deciding to play a calming tune she had written in her time at the Harper Hall. The song was beautiful and never failed to make Verilyn feel a range of emotion. It was almost haunting in the music, but as the music faded, her stomach rumbled. “Consider that a thank you for caring for my charge.” she told the man, settling her violin once more. “I think we may both pass on the wine.”

Her father had taught her that the lady always broke bread first, and true to that sentiment, Verilyn broken open the steaming loaf and tore a chunk from it. She took a delicate bite and motioned that Olrina could sit to eat if she wished, Verilyn would pour for their guest if he decided he wanted creme. “Please, break your fast with us if you haven’t already Messenger. It would be lovely to give you an introduction to the only other race runner at the Beastcraft Hall when we finish here. My own Kirazerin is stabled nearby and many enjoy meeting him. I’m sure you have at least heard his name. I’d like to invite you to join us for midday meal as well, I’ll prepare it myself.” she went on.

“My Lady,” Olrina started, her tone admonishing.

“Don’t think you can tell me what I can and cannot do Olrina,” Verilyn cut her off, having no tolerance for the nonsense of proper behavior. Olrina would insist on cooking herself, but Verilyn enjoyed it, and if this man was going to be reporting to her fiance, she wanted him to know her skills and be able to speak on them appropriately if the Lord Holder asked him how she had behaved.

“Yes, My Lady.” she subsided, trying to keep the sigh from her voice. “At least allow me to assist you.” she offered, trying to find a way to make it at least marginally less improper. Verilyn nodded, sipping delicately at her klah. The stableman had backed out of the office when they had been arguing, and Verilyn was surprised to find that it annoyed her that he hadn’t said anything first.

Olrina still didn’t look directly at the man, and it was beginning to bother the redhead. She stood, and made her way toward the door to call Nerick, but Olrina with a subtle movement, slid her foot into her Lady’s path and before Verilyn knew it, she was falling toward the hard packed floor.

Glad that his words of advice seemed to have some affect on the Lady Verily, as she seemed to set her worry aside, eyes appearing less angry and more resolved, Izayan let a small breath escape him as a silent sigh.

Further thoughts over their topic of conversation having been interrupted by a rap at the door, Izayan's gaze shifted sidelong to see who entered. Almost as immediately as the stable hands came, the smell of food greeted him, and it smelled wonderful.

Though he had not taken a seat yet, he nodded to indicate that he would appreciate some klah with cream. As there was some bustle through the room as Verilyn directed everyone, he stood back a step, waiting for the room to clear before saying anything. However, the stable hands seemed to want to monopolize her time while the food got cold. Still, since she had picked up her instrument again, he continued to stand back and listen, speaking nothing.

The Lord Holder's tension was soothed somewhat by the draw of her bow across the violin's strings, and eventually his eyes drifted over to her, watching her play for that short time. There was no more applause from him when the last notes of the song rang out, thinly fading into the air as the body of the instrument echoed its final chord. The sound was lovely though, and the was clear to him that the instrument was very well made, and had been very well used over many a turn.

Eyes lingering on the woman for a moment longer than perhaps necessary, Izayan ended up turning their attention on the Orlina and the stable hands as they all went back to their work.

"It would be a pleasure to dine with you. There was little time to eat before making my way here this morning. The Lord Holder does not appreciate idleness. Nor does his mother." At that, the pale light of amusement seemed to return to the messenger's dark eyes.

At Verilyn's mention, he supposed that it would be a good opportunity to entertain such curiosities as what her cooking was like; though the hand of a Lady Holder was rarely occupied with such tasks. Nevertheless, while they were not at the Hold Proper, and while Lady Verilyn had yet to wed him, it would be acceptable for her to do such a thing for him. Nodding, the Lord Holder had been watching her as she sipped from her cup and started for the door.


Izayan hadn't noticed then, that the Lady's Maid had been responsible for Verilyn's fall, but if he had, he may have been at least a little grateful; though it would have been to disastrous effect if his fiance had gotten hurt. Fortunately, the Lord Holder's reflexes were well trained, and so his body responded quickly to break her fall.

Capturing Verilyn in his arms as he lunged forward to meet her, the hot klah that had been in her hand, spilled over the rim of its cup, splashing across both he and the floor. Similarly, the cup was dashed to pieces as it struck the stones beneath them. The resulting mess however, was ignored as the Lord Holder cradled her in a backward dip, as though they'd been dancing. for her sake, otherwise cool, ashen eyes were filled with a sudden worry that had come over him. Drawing Verilyn against him then, he made sure to support her as he stood her back on her feet where one arm had almost completely encircled her waist. The other hand offered support at the side of her arm.

The warmth and softness of Verilyn's body was immediately apparent to him, and thus, the Lord Holder's body began to respond in a whole new way to her. It having been completely unintentional at first, he could not ignore how his heart had begun to race in his chest. So, as he looked into Verilyn's eyes, finding himself lost in their reflection, he held his breath.

They were so close. She was undeniably beautiful. Stunningly so. What would happen then, if he'd decided to kiss her while he still had her in his arms?

Reaching up to stroke stray locks of hair from her face, Izayan let his fingers brush the delicate, porcelain contour of her cheek gently, noticing how unmarred her complexion was. His hand returned to rest gently upon her slender shoulder then, as perhaps without thinking, he bowed his head to kiss her.

The Lord Holder's eyes closed as he breathed in deeply of her scent, deepening the kiss so that his mouth opened, and with it, his tongue tasted her lips. And if Verilyn tried to pull away, his arm only tightened in its embrace of her.

Outfit

As the floor raced up to meet her, Verilyn was sure she would hit with a force enough to injure, and moments passed in slow motion. As she braced for impact, it never came and the woman found herself suspended in a backward dip, gazing up at the messenger as her heart raced with adrenaline. Distantly she heard the crash of a breaking mug. Almost as quickly she was stood on her feet and held as her body fought to balance itself once more. The scent of man and cleanliness reached her and the touch of the man’s arm around her waist gave her a sense of protection that she hadn’t felt previously.

His eyes were beautiful, she decided as she looked into them. So close to him, she responded instinctively to his handsomeness and her body seemed to have a mind of its own. The same moment he leaned to kiss her, her arms reached up around his neck to support herself but her surprise at the sudden intimacy made her gasp, which opened her mouth to his explorations. She tried to pull away, reminding herself that she was engaged and at the same moment the door to the office crashed open.

“My Lady! What happ-” Nerick’s voice was cut off as the scene before him took hold in his mind. The Lady Verilyn and the Lord Holder’s messenger were locked in a rather intimate embrace, Olrina sat in her chair watching with a smug look on her face and a mug lay shattered on the floor, spilled klah surrounding it. “Unhand her!” the Guard cried, grabbing the man’s shoulder and yanking him away from the Lady, and putting himself between the woman and messenger protectively.

Verilyn’s eyes were wide and staring as she reacted to the Guard’s entrance, her hands trembling and her body seeming to be on fire from the deep kiss of the messenger. Her heart raced in her chest and still she said nothing as Olrina stood and guided her toward her chair behind the desk once more. The woman didn’t fight, and indeed didn’t seem to realize where she was at that moment, lost in her thoughts of the unexpected kiss.

Nerick was shouting, Olrina was trying to say something and finally the maid walked up to the Guard and slapped him, “Calm down Nerick.” she roared, then leaned forward to whisper in his ear. Verilyn was oblivious to all of this. When the woman pulled away from him, Nerick looked at her, and then to the man he had been ready to fight and back again. “How can you be sure?” he asked Olrina. Again, she whispered in his ear and the Guardsman turned to the man and bowed deeply, “Please forgive me. Your secret is safe with us.” A stirring from the chair as Verilyn came back to reality quickly had Nerick standing straight and moving to the door.

Olrina went to Verilyn again, lifting the woman’s klah to her and encouraging her to drink the stimulating liquid. The woman’s hand went to her mouth where her lips tingled still, but took the mug and sipped. “What... Were you thinking, Messenger?” was Verilyn’s question. “I have told you I’m to be married to your Master, and you kiss me? The Lord Holder has lost enough in his life, I will not be a disappointment for him as well. You realize I will be telling him of this, right? I’ll not have a secret from my future husband, especially one such as this!” her words gained force and anger as she went on, finally resulting in her standing and leaning angrily over the desk toward him.

Izayan was aware of Verilyn's instinctive reaction to their closeness and his kiss, feeling rewarded by it. He would have liked to enjoy that closeness a little longer but for the fact that her Guard Nerick rushed through the door and was positioning himself between them before he knew it.

Offended by the Guard's laying of hands on him, Izayan was ready to fight the man just as Nerick had been ready to defend his Lady. But, before either of them could exchange blows, Orlina stopped the other man.

Straightening his tunic and standing aside with hands clasped behind his back again, Izayan composed himself while the two servants of the Lady Verilyn passed whispers between them. It was apparent to him shortly after, that Orlina had at least suspected his true identity all along, and had just made Nerick aware.  He did not acknowledge the guard as the man bowed, giving his apology, but instead turned back to where Verilyn returned to her desk.

Her voice steadily rising in anger, Izayan met her gaze evenly, though a single brow did arc as though amused by the unexpected turn of events. So, when he addressed her again, there seemed to be little remorse hidden within his words. "It was a test. That's all." And it might be suggested that the Lord Holder had demanded it.

Izayan went to where she leaned over her desk, glaring at him, reaching to brush that same stray curl back from her face again. And again, gently stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

"Though, if you would rather make your own decision about marriage, you could come to me instead. I must say, I have liked you since we met; and I too, am of relation to the late Lord Holder. You would still be well-wed and cared for. You cannot know if the Lord Holder will feel the same when the two of you have met. And what about Chira, who still resides somewhere in his heart? Will you still go to him and devote yourself to him?"

Outfit

“A test?” she cried, somewhat outraged by his audacity. His hand reached out to stroke her cheek, and she caught herself looking into his eyes again as he spoke.

"Though, if you would rather make your own decision about marriage, you could come to me instead. I must say, I have liked you since we met; and I too, am of relation to the late Lord Holder. You would still be well-wed and cared for. You cannot know if the Lord Holder will feel the same when the two of you have met. And what about Chira, who still resides somewhere in his heart? Will you still go to him and devote yourself to him?"

Her heart pounded as he admitted that he had liked her since they met. Marry him? She wouldn’t consider it! Her grey-green eyes flashed with anger again, letting him finish.

“Messenger, the Lord Holder is my betrothed. You said yourself he chose me from many and that his family - your family I suppose - approves. I have a duty to him, myself and our Holds to marry him and I would not run away with a man who could be a liar all for the kiss of a test he gave me. I know nothing of the Lord Holder, nor he of me, and I know that he will probably be as reluctant as any two people who had their marriage chosen for them - but that does not mean that I will abandon him. There is something about me, whatever it is, that he liked and chose me for it. I will not be another thing in his life that lets him down or disappoints him, he will not hurt because of me if I can help it.

He chose me to marry after caring for Chira. I would hate him if he didn’t still love Chira if he was that devoted to her. The only thing I can hope to do is to warm his heart again and maybe, one day, he will come to love me as well. Perhaps not as much, or the same, but love cannot choose a soul mate. Even if it takes my whole life, I will devote myself, and my love, to the Lord Holder Izayan - and I will not be running away with a man who cannot accept the fact that I am engaged, who insists on testing me and violating my engagement. What kind of man is that? One who cannot accept the word ‘no’ when a woman doesn’t want something?

I will be the Lord Holder Izayan’s wife, or die proving my honor to him, and you will not take it from me. My honor is my life.”

Verilyn’s words were delivered in a tone that spoke of her maturity and devotion. She had more than once had to defend her engagement, and the emotions of doing so were strengthening her resolve to love this man who had finally turned to another woman to be in his life. He had chosen her, knowing that she was older than typical marrying age, and from all accounts, seemed to have similar interests to her own.

Nerick opened his mouth to speak, but Olrina stopped him with a finger over his lips. She wouldn’t let the Guardsman reveal her suspicions. And if her Lady truly believed the words she had just spoken, she had proven herself as loyal as any woman could be - to the Lord Holder himself. The man tried to speak again, and to stop him, she stood on her tip toes and kissed him, when she pulled away, she whispered in his ear, “Say nothing.” The Guardsman stood too stunned to speak and Olrina pointed to their Lady, urging him to pay attention. This was important for them as much as the Lady Verilyn.

Listened to Verilyn until she was through, the Lord Holder found himself reassured by her response, so the corners of his lips once more perked in a faint smile.

He seemed to be thinking about her words then, as his eyes averted, standing back from her at a more appropriate distance as his hands went behind his back again. At length, he started, "Very well. The Lord Holder will be pleased to have a woman at his side such as you. So please, make him happy and stay by his side always. He has been lonely for a long time."

The messenger's eyes returned to Verilyn, "I promise something like that will not happen again." referring to his test of her dutifulness. "Should we sit and eat?" Motioning for the plates still before them which were now cool, he wasn't so sure that Verilyn would still be comfortable about dining with him, but at the same time, one could not easily dismiss a Lord Holder's respective envoy. Though she could just as well write a secondary letter to her Lord Holder detailing her displeasure with his rude messenger, which Izayan would certainly have fun reading later.

At that thought, the Lord Holder suppressed a grin that fought to make its way to his face. It was going to be a great surprise for Verilyn to find out later, on the day of their engagement gather that the Messenger was actually her betrothed.

"Ah. Which reminds me. I overheard the Lord Holder talking about plans for your Engagement Gather. it seems as though he's already setting things in motion and beginning to put together a guest list. I do believe that the time between now and the engagement gather, and the engagement gather and your wedding, will not be long."

Outfit

“You have my word on it, Messenger.” Verilyn said, her voice full of feeling. Olrina produced a carafe of water, filling their glasses and a spare mug which she poured full of klah for the messenger. Clearing her throat, the woman sat, pulling her plate toward her and finally pouring creme into the man’s cup as he had indicated earlier his preference. “Please, sit. Let us eat and forget about this ‘test’ nonsense for now.” she said, and lifted her fork full of scramble. The food was spiced wonderfully and the hearty meal was still warm enough to be appetizing. After several bites, she stopped to listen as the man spoke again.

The excitement of a Gather took her and she wriggled excitedly in her seat. “Do you know, Messenger, that I have thought of my guest list since I was very young? There are very few on it, mind you. In fact, so few that it fits on a single sheet of parchment. My parents, sisters, two friends from childhood, Olrina and Nerick and some people from my time at the Harper and Beastcraft Halls. Those are my personal guests. Weddings of course always have notable people of Pern present, but I could care less who else is there aside from mine and the Lord Holder’s personal guests. The only one person I care to see there is the Lord Holder.” she went on, full of pleasure.

“Ooh but wouldn’t it be fun to have a runner race as entertainment?” she said, smiling and showing her excitement at the idea. “I’ll bet that Greed would be fit to run against my Kirazerin by then! Could you imagine, Messenger?” With a slight gasp, she covered her mouth with a napkin and winced. “I’m sorry. That was... Well, not Lady-like as I have heard all my life. I am extremely pleased that it will be a short engagement, I’m sure the Lord Holder needs a Lady to run her parts of the Hold properly.” her grin returned as she lowered the napkin. Verilyn went back to eating, polishing off her plate of scramble and drinking water to wash it all down.

Taking a seat as Verilyn bade him, he was not used to others sitting before himself, but he was not playing the role of Lord Holder, here. He could be at least a little more at ease in a place like this.

Taking his first bites of the meal, he was appreciative of the wonderful flavours that filled his mouth, thinking that the food was nearly as good as that served by Keroon Hold's cooks. Though, he'd eaten food served by the Keroon Hold kitchen all his life, and so his taste buds were likely biased. In any case, it was a complement for him to even consider that the food was of similar quality.

Setting his fork down, the Lord Holder took a drink of his klah as he heard Verilyn out. It was good that she was excited and not fearing the matter of their betrothal. It was also good that she had some idea of who she would add to the guest lists.

"From what I hear, the Lord Holder is already in contact with your parents on the matter of who they would like to invite to both events."

At the mention of hosting a race at the same time as their Engagement Gather, Izayan was left pondering over that, giving a thoughtful nod in response. Taking another couple of sips from his klah, the Lord Holder though aloud, "Yes. I'm sure the Lord Holder would appreciate hearing what ideas you have in regards to both events as well. You could write him another letter with requests, so that they may be implemented. Otherwise, it is likely that his mother will oversee most of what goes on."

Wanting to assure her that she should not feel under too much pressure to take on too many responsibilities at once, Izayan added, "Lady Ziriya, who is the Lord Holder's mother, plays a part in managing hold affairs -as do Keroon's steward and headwoman. The hold is not poorly staffed. For that reason, you should not feel too rushed to take on duties you are not comfortable with yet. You should be at ease and enjoy yourself, getting to know the hold first, if you wish. I'm sure the Lord Holder would not find fault in that."

Going back to his plate, Izayan ate more of what food was still on the plate before him, enjoying each bite until the rest was gone.