Lessons In Love
Disclaimer - Tortall and its characters, etc. are the property of Tamora Pierce.
A/N - This was originally for the Wyldon Winter Mount Off at fiefgoldenlake dot proboards dot com. A big thank you to Quatre-sama for betaing. :) Mostly this is just being posted here for the sake of completeness, updates for this will be posted more frequently/quickly on either Goldenlake or thekingsown dot org Tamora Pierce fanfiction archive site.
It was a warm June night, and their Majesties had held a lavish party to celebrate Princess Vania's seventeenth Birthday. The social season had begun in earnest, Lord Wyldon noted as he scanned the room. The room was awash with bright silks and velvets, the glitter of the light on the ladies' jewellery almost dizzying. Pages served around him, carrying wine and food in their red and gold tunics, while squires and knights danced with the ladies near the terrace where the orchestra played.
Lord Wyldon wasn't particularly interested in the entertainments tonight, but he was in Corus for a reason – to find a wife. Vivenne had died some years ago after an apoplexy, and after a lot of consideration, he decided it would be appropriate to find himself a new companion. House Cavall was rather empty these days, and he missed the little giggles, the soft whispers, and those warm smiles that used to fill his home with joy.
His daughters had not only accepted his decision, but offered to help him find another wife, making him wonder if his loneliness was that obvious. His eyes fixed on Margarry's latest recommendation, a young woman from Elden. She was pretty, with long blonde hair, wide blue eyes, and slim figure, and was chatting gaily with a circle of friends and their admirers.
"I wouldn't bother with her," murmured a voice in his ear.
Wyldon turned to face Larec of Anak's Eyrie. A fellow widower and friend, he had been searching for a bride for quite some time. "She is taken?" he asked.
The other man shook his head. "Hardly, but she has enough wool between her ears for a blanket."
Wyldon wanted to sigh. "It seems to be the same for all the young women I've met."
"It's slim pickings at the moment. The current batch of ladies seem to be lacking in any wit, and the widows are even worse."
"That they are," he agreed fervently. "Surely the ladies weren't like this in our time."
"They can't have been. Ladies like Vivenne, and Jaclyn were the brightest gems amongst jewels. This lot is more like glass. They're pretty to look at, but no real sparkle. Even Vanget's son married some girl from Hannalof with more sense than this bunch. And to make it worse, my halfwit son is besotted with a different girl each time I see him."
"So he's still looking then?" Wyldon asked lightly, but Larec wasn't paying attention.
"That girl is new. I haven't seen her before."
"Which one?"
"The one talking to your son-in-law, in the red dress."
Wyldon looked to where Owen was, and was taken aback. The girl was familiar, what with those eyes and that hair... and then he realised who it was. "You are referring to the Lady Knight," he stated, looking at Larec.
"Surely you jest." Larec's incredulity was met with Wyldon's raised eyebrow. He looked back at Keladry. "Well label me very impressed and ship me to Carthak. She scrubs up rather nicely."
Wyldon looked her over again. She was looking very pretty in her rather modest dress, and he couldn't help but notice that her hair had been cropped short again after her travels. "That she does," he murmured.
"Does she have a sweetheart?"
There was a glint in Larec's eyes that made him uncomfortable. "Not that I am aware of."
Larec glanced back at her again. "I bet she'd be interesting," he said wickedly.
"I hardly think that she'd be interested in you."
"A man twice her age, with no money, no lands, a son old enough to marry her, and a father who might very well outlive Duke Gareth of Naxen? I can believe that." Larec sighed. "Not to mention I'd be disowned for condoning such progressive behaviour." He looked at Wyldon. "What about you? Surely you would have a chance? After all, you have wealth, lands, power - even looks, for all your age. Everything a girl looks for in a man."
"I was her training master; it would be beyond inappropriate. The girl would have no reputation, and neither would I."
"Hang the gossips, and the girl already has no reputation anyway."
"I would be taking advantage of her. I've been in power over her for a good portion of her life, it wouldn't do."
"Sometimes you really are too much, Wyldon." Larec shook his head. "I suppose she's probably just as useless as the other girls anyway," he added slyly.
"Keladry has more worth in her little finger than all the rest of the maidens in this room combined." He said defensively. "She's intelligent, loyal and compassionate." He turned to gaze at Keladry, who was now dancing with Queenscove. "She's respectful, yet determined. If she wants something, she will get it. And from the outside, she's as cool as glass, but there's no mistaking the warmth underneath. Some of the men nicknamed her 'mother' for the way she fusses over them." His voice had softened as he spoke, as his mind drifted to the memories of the years gone past.
"She sounds about perfect, if it weren't for her going around butchering people and taking to a man's profession of arms."
"You wouldn't tell by looking at her now, but she's a sight better than some of the men."
The other man gave a low whistle. "High praise from you indeed. I remember Daran complaining that you never thought anyone good enough."
"I give credit where it is due," he replied.
"So if she is so wonderful, why don't you marry her?" Larec drained his wine glass. "From the looks and sounds of things, you won't do much better." He clapped Wyldon's shoulder. "Think about it," he said seriously, and his mouth twisted into a wicked grin as he added, "and in the meantime, I shall see if the lady knight will take pity on an old man and let me dance with her." With a wink, Larec turned and walked off, leaving Wyldon with a lot to think about.
