A/N: Long time no see, folks! A combination of life changes and inspiration for all things Devil's Carnival and American Murder Song has resulted in this story being a bit neglected for the past few months. Well, time to get this story back on track!


Chapter 12: The Cat's Dead

Ashemark was wound tight in the weeks that followed Lady Sybelle's fall. Her condition directly affected the highborns of the castle in their concern for her well-being. To make things worse, the sickness the Lady had caught had spread about, which rendered two dozen people bedridden. Jasmine and others attending the sick had to work long hours keeping the illness in check, while also ensuring that they themselves would not catch and spread what was going around the castle. Jasmine did her best to keep up with good hygiene (as much as medieval life could allow) and isolate herself from the healthy population in Ashemark. A necessary change to her daily routine, but it waned severely on her connections around the castle.

"-smine? Jasmine? Are you awake?" A hushed whisper snaked into Jasmine's ear as a hand shook her shoulder.

"Mmmmmm! Sleeping." She groaned. Yawning full as an eye cracked half-open. "What is it, Norwin?"

The boy seemed nervous. Maybe. It was hard to tell from the blur of waking.

"You slept through the morning. I brought you something to eat." He lifted his hand forward, a mass of red and green in it.

Jasmine's mouth stretched into a tired smile. "You're a saint, kid. Put 'em on the table, here. I doubt I'm sick, but better not risk it." She sat up and stretched her arms. Feeling it crack at the elbows and shoulders. It was a shame, really, to have to wake up. It wasn't often Jasmine was blessed with deep, dreamless sleep. That said, breakfast called.

She opened her eyes a bit more attentively, noting the light and lack of shadow from the windows. Was it noon, already? Well, brunch it is, then. "Guess I needed the day off. This month has been crazy busy." She turned to Norwin, attention somewhat focused on the food on the bedside table."Thanks, Norwin. ...Are those strawber-*yawn*-ries? Didn't think those were in season."

Norwin looked confused. "There are always strawberries in Summer."

Summer! "How long was I asleep?"

"Through the morning. I told you that."

"That's not what I... " she sighed. A yawn mixed in with it. "Nevermind. When did the white raven come?"

Norwin thought over to recall. "About one week ago. You hadn't heard?"

"Been a bit busy, kid. Lots of people have been sick." She plucked a strawberry from the pile and took a bite. Her mouth encased in its juicy sweetness. Oh! How she missed this flavour! "What else did I miss?"

"I've been taking care your plants; and, yesterday I bested Little Pate in training!"

His enthusiasm was infectious as Jasmine chuckled at his news. "That's great, Norwin. Congratulations." She munched on the rest of the red fruit, and gently tossed one in his direction by its leafy cap. "Anything else? Apparently, I'm lacking in castle gossip."

"Mmm…" The boy swallowed the strawberry whole. "Lady Marbrand isn't ill anymore. And I heard Lord Marbrand say he plans on proposing marriages for Ser Alyn and Jason."

The first news almost shocked Jasmine with hope, before quickly realizing that Melissa Marbrand was among the ill. Of course it couldn't have been Sybelle. Rather than letting that show, she flowed to the other branch of conversation. "Huh. Who are they hoping to marry to?"

"He and Lord Alesander mentioned a few names, but I don't know them."

"Fair enough. Guess we'll find out, eventually." Jasmine popped another strawberry in her mouth as she grazed over the news. She could think of one or two girls in the castle who will be heartbroken to lose those bachelors.

"Is Darlessa's grandmother going to be alright?"

Jasmine swallowed hard. Chunks of fruit grating on the way down. "I'm not sure. The maester has been watching Lady Sybelle closely. It's… been a slow recovery."

Norwin squirmed as he pondered something. "Could we visit her? Lessa told me that none of the adults would let her in her chambers."

Jasmine released a heavy breath. "She's still sick, Norwin. It may spread to you if you go in to visit her."

"Please, Jasmine? Lessa's really worried." The boy blinked puppy-dog eyes her way. With enough vocal strain to heighten the plea.

'Dammit, kid.'

"...Let me see what I can do."


*The Next Day*

"Before you go inside, we need to establish some ground rules." Jasmine ruffled the kids about as they loitered in the light of the morning sun. "Rule One: No physical contact. No hugs, hand holding or any sort of touching, whatsoever. Rules Two: Keep your voice low. Your grandmother needs to avoid anything stressful, and that includes shouting and jumping about like a grasshopper."

"Or being bossy." Norwin muttered under his breath. Jasmine flashed him a glare, and a stern finger bapped him on the nose.

"Boy, don't talk back to me. For that matter, Rule Three: when the handmaidens, myself, or any other adult instructs that it's time for you to leave, you must leave. No questions. Finally, Rule Four: when this is done, both of you are taking baths. If you get sick, your mother will kill me." That rule directed at Darlessa as she nodded dutifully at Jasmine's instructions. "Good. Now that that's taken care of," She smoothed down her dress and relaxed her posture, "it's time to go inside."


The visit between Lady Sybelle and the children was going well, so far. Darlessa urged herself to keep her distance, and made sure to be as pleasant as possible as she spoke with her grandmother about all of the things she had done in the past month. Norwin, too, behaved himself. Though, from the way he was fidgeting, Jasmine could guess he was here more for his friend than to visit the Marbrand matriarch. Jasmine, herself, kept a generous distance. Standing in the doorway so as to not disturb the visit; speaking only briefly with the handmaidens as they, too, excused themselves to one of the adjacent rooms. She would have joined them, if only for the need to make sure the children keep safe from the illness.

From behind, a clatter of boots echoed in their direction. Jasmine turned a fraction to acknowledge the new arrival, but found herself remotely surprised when recognition hit.

"We're not too late?" Anders asked in a hushed tone. His riding clothes were covered in dirt and dust. His hair tousled with drying sweat.

"Fortunately, not." She offered him a sympathetic smile, but it turned into a frown as she continued. "There is internal damage from the fall. She can still move, with some help; but it is painful." She paused a moment, keeping the young knight from entering straight away. "She caught an illness before the fall. A contagious one. All those who have caught it so far have recovered; but, your mother," She looked to the bedridden woman. Remarking the way her chest shuddered with each breath. "The fall has made it hard to recover. Or the illness is preventing her body to heal her injuries. It's hard to say. Everyday she's on a knife's edge."

Anders hardened his jawline. An unreadable expression glinted in his eyes as he thanked her before entering the room at last. Jasmine diverted her eyes as the scene unfolded, hoping to offer some privacy.

As her head turned, she noticed a man standing two paces away. Green eyes staring into the room with uncertainty. The man's clothing was similar in state to Anders, only patterned in stripes of yellow and turquoise compared to Anders' hues of orange and grey. The man was at an age with Jasmine, with a length of brown hair tied away from a narrow, stubbled face. This man wasn't someone she knew; and, yet, his features were of those she's seen a thousand times and one.

"She's waiting for you, you know." She remarked simply. His eyes turned to hers, as if noticing her presence for the first time.

The was hesitation before he responded. "How could you know that?"

She offered a teasing smile. "Because she asked."

The stranger frowned, puzzled. Then came a glimmer of recognition. "You're J. S?"

Jasmine offered a kind smile and nodded. The conversation closed as a wisp of a voice called from inside the chamber.

"Dareon?"

At once his attention flew passed the doorway, where Lady Sybelle peered from her bed toward where they were standing. Gingerly, the man stepped forward. He entered the room and stood at her bedside. Tears glistened in Sybelle's eyes. Her hand reached out for him. "Dareon? Is it really you?"

He clasped his hand with hers. "It's me, Mother. I'm here."

As the two spoke softly to each other, Jasmine's eyes caught a gesture from Anders. He waved her attention towards the children, who were looking between the Lady and the new arrival with puzzled faces. She nodded in acknowledgement, stepping inside the room to quietly retrieve the children and escort them out.

"You never came home. Even after your father's passing. You should have been here."

There came a pause. A boot scuffed lightly on stone. "I didn't think I would be welcomed back."

"Nonsense, whatever they said, you're always-"

Jasmine lost hearing of the conversation as she walked out the door. The children walked past another figure and continued on. Jasmine looked up at the figure, finding Lord Damon walking towards the room. They each paused in the hall. Long enough for Damon to see Dareon. Long enough for Jasmine to catch a flash of anger in his eyes and intercept before he moved again.

"Damon, no!" She whispered hoarsely, stepping into his way. Damon, in turn, took an arm and pushed her aside. She tripped into the wall, gripping onto her shoulder as it began to sting from the impact. Damon went again towards the door, only to be stopped again, by Anders.

"What's he doing here?" She heard him hiss.

"I brought him home." Anders gave her one quick glance. Enough to convey that she was dismissed from whatever drama was about to unfold. She didn't need to be told twice. "He has every right to be here."

"Not after everything he's done to this family."

"Damon, please, he-" whatever else came of that conversation flew out of hearing as Jasmine half-raced down the corridor.


"Dareon." Melissa's eyes seemed to pop from her skull. "He brought Dareon here?"

Jasmine shuffled nervously as the ladies of Ashemark gossiped among themselves. Thankfully, they were too surprised by the news to notice Jasmine's discomfort as she busied herself over the Willow Room's drawing table.

"He has." Lia affirmed as she relayed the news. "I met them at the gates. They pressed on to visit Sybelle's sickbed, but I recognized him all the same."

There was a mixture of emotions at the news. Jasmine strained to pin each sound to its owner to no avail.

"-bringing that scoundrel here. Damon must be furious."

"He wouldn't send him away, would he?"

"Of course-"

"I doubt he would go s-."

"-weren't you, Switzer?"

"Pardon?" Jasmine's head perked up at the sound of her name.

Melissa looked to her expectantly "You were there when my daughter went to visit our good-mother. Did you see Dareon, as well?"

"Briefly."

"And?" She gestured her forth. "What happened? What did he say?"

Jasmine internally groaned. Of course the only time Melissa would ever want to talk with her would be to gossip; and, yet, that was probably the most cordial Melissa's been with her in a long while.

"He spoke with Lady Sybelle. My lady was happy to see him. She needs her sons with her, now more than ever."

Melissa gave her a strange look. "You knew he was her son?"

Jasmine shrugged casually. "People talk. I knew there are four Marbrand brothers, and he has the look, so I could guess when I saw him."

Melissa gave a huff of disgust. "There are three. Dareon is no Marbrand."

"Oh." Came a sound more confused than surprised. "I didn't realize that he's a bastard."

"He's not." Came a firm retort from Margaery. The other women also made note against the claim. Which made sense, as Jasmine's little information on the knight said nothing of the sort.

"He may as well be one. Our good-father stripped him of his name. There's no point in thinking of him as otherwise."

Jasmine laid down her charcoal pen and turned fully in their direction. That was new information. "Isn't that a bit harsh of a punishment? He didn't do something that bad, did he?"

The ladies looked to each other to see who would answer.

"Do you know what Dareon had done, Jasmine?" Lia asked her.

Well, if she did, this past year of side-steps and secret ravens wouldn't be so damn confusing. "Something about him getting married, or not getting married, I'm not sure. Not many people are willing to talk about it, so I lack the details."

"That is… half-right." Lia paused. Choosing her words carefully. "Years ago, during my wedding celebration to Anders, Lord Joseth had arranged for him to-"

"GOOD EVENING, RYELLA!" Margaery gave an ear-piercing shout over Lia's explanation. Too loud, in fact, as baby Alerie chose that moment to wake up and start crying. "No, no, no! I'm sorry! Please don't cry!"

In the unexpected commotion, Jasmine only belated noticed Ryella walking towards the group. Ryella chuckled as Margaery flustered over the babe. "You need to be softer with her, Margaery. You can't treat her like one of your hawks." She gently scolded. Ryella stopped, no doubt noticing the way some the ladies braced themselves or looked away from her. "Is something wrong?"

Tension was in the air. Melissa and Lia seemed to pass a wordless conversation in their gazes.

"Oh, just gossiping amongst ourselves." Jasmine offered. Though the tension squeezed her voice into a strain.

"What about, if I may ask?"

"We have a new guest." Lia interjected. "Ser Dareon has returned to Ashemark."

For a moment, long enough to be caught, Ryella's eyes widen and her body went rigid. "I see." She attempted to rid the shock, and offered a smile that did not reach her eyes. "That's… that's good of him to come. His mother will be overjoyed to see him."

"Mmm, just about." The air was stifling.

"Will he be staying long?"

"I imagine not." Melissa dismissed the thought. "That lout is bound to leave once it suits him." There seemed a mix of negative emotions from the group. Pain, dismissiveness, sullen acceptance. Flustered, too, but that was just Margaery busy with the baby.

"So..." Jasmine began, looking to Lia. Lia's unreadable expression transformed under her gaze into a quiet shake of the head. Another time. "It's getting late. I'm going to retire for the evening." She punctuated the statement with a forced yawn. The other's acknowledged the retreat. Some taking advantage of it to perform their own as the group kindly dispersed for the night. Whatever was going on was serious business. To Ashemark, at least. Fortunately this was bound to be the best environment to finally get some answers.


"What do you mean 'you don't know'?"

Margaery rolled her eyes. "Exactly as I said. I don't know what happened, as I wasn't in Ashemark at the time."

"Well aren't you a basket-full of helpfulness." From Jasmine's lap, Alerie gurgled as she squirmed about. "See, even Allie agrees with me!"

Margaery pouted, yet there was a trace of a smile on her face. "She's biased against me. Everyone knows that."

They had a good laugh at that. Even the baby seemed to enjoy herself as she squirmed enough to almost push herself off the edge. As Jasmine readjusted Alerie's position, Margaery reclined on the divan across the table. "I know this may be selfish of me, but I'm grateful for what had happened between Ser Dareon and his family." Jasmine paused from fussing over the baby to focus on Margaery. Her eyes were looking upward, but the gaze was distant. "After he left Ashemark, my cousin Markus had recommended Ser Dareon come serve my family at the Rain House. Had it not been for that, then Donnel wouldn't have challenged him when they met at Lord Tyrell's wedding."

"Challenged? Like a duel?"

"Nearly. Though Ser Dareon refused, and offered they settle things through a round at the tilts instead. Markus had jumped at the chance to duel, as if his sword was worth the fight. He was always a hot-headed boy."

"So, what happened then?"

Margaery held a wicked grin. "Oh, I hit him and called him an idiot. The crowd laughed and it shamed him to step down the challenge." Jasmine snickered at that. The image clear in her mind. "After Markus relented, Donnel accepted his cousin's offer ...and asked to wear my favour for the joust."

"Aww, how romantic." She teased. On her lap the baby began to whimper, so she offered her back to her mother. "Let me guess, he won the tilt and your heart, too?"

"No, he lost." She shrugged. "My Donnel is a man of the melee. Jousting, not as much." She sat up and accepted the squirming girl before her whimpers could turn into full on wails of hunger. "Though Ser Dareon is a good man, and a fair jouster, so I didn't hold the loss against him."

"I'm glad you didn't." They paused a moment as Margaery prepped Alerie on the breast. In that time, Jasmine pondered over Margaery's tale. It seemed there was some good to come out of this ...whatever this drama was. That said… "I suppose I'll have to ask someone else about this, aren't I?"

Jasmine had a strong suspicious that Margaery knew more about the issue than she was letting on. Though, even if that's the case, there wasn't much point in pushing it if she wasn't willing to share.

"Only if you wish to know the full story." Margaery replied. Her eyes cast down a moment before returning to Jasmine's. "There's nothing forcing you to, you know."

"I know. It's like the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back." She joked. "But... I feel like, maybe, if I can understand the entire situation, I might find a way to make things easier for everyone; or, at least, for Ryella and Lady Sybelle."

Margaery mused over the admission. "If that's how you feel, then I wish you luck in learning the full truth."

"Thanks, Margaery."


"It's not my place to say." Lia admitted after defusing most of Jasmine's prods.

Ding dong, the cat's dead.

"Come on, Lia. You were going to tell me last night. Why not now?"

"Ryella won't be happy to hear people talk about it. They will do it enough, already, behind her back. I won't add to their gossip further."

Oh. That's a good point.

"Alright, I won't ask you again."


The trouble with castle rumour-mills is that the way it flows depends on the severity of the rumour. Regular gossip flows through the kitchen, the town taverns, and the gates. The darker stuff emerged in back-alley whispers and the town brothel. That said, there was a general, unspoken rule when it came to treating oneself to a tasty rumour. The further from the castle, the sweeter is the meat.

"So, Ivy," Jasmine peered over the sheet as she helped the washerwoman hang it up to dry, "is it true you and Dareon use to be together?"

The woman's face flushed darkly, nearly blending with the freckles on her face. "I did, but that was a long time ago."

"You still going on about that?" Rose piped up from her own line. "Don't listen to her, Jas. She's been telling that lie for years."

"It's not a lie!" She shot back. "We use to sneak out to the West tower between the guards round and spend the night together. Just the two of us."

"Enough, Ivy. We all know you aren't his type."

The emphasis was enough to draw her attention. "And what is his type?" Jasmine queried.

"Someone with a cock, for starters." Another woman joked under her breath.

Ding, dong, the cat lives.

Ivy looked about as burnt as the sun at that. "That's not true!"

"We all know it, dear." Nella tried to placate her. "Perhaps he offered you some sweet words to hide himself, but there were plenty of guests who saw him in the hay with that squire."

"Wait," Jasmine reeled over the conversation, "he was caught with a man at Anders' wedding?"

"He was."

Well that… explained some things. It would have felt revelating if it wasn't so fucking hilarious! She sympathized for the man, really. Nobody wants to get caught in the middle of sex. Yet, just imagining the look on Lia or Melissa's face, that must have been priceless! Highborns in this country flounder like fish when the subject of sex comes up. Catching two guys in the act would've made their prudish heads explode!

Though, does that mean… was that what all the hullabaloo was about? Did Lord Joseth cut his son out of the family for being gay? That's the reason everyone tiptoes around the subject? Damn, that poor guy.

Jasmine snapped out of her musings, catching as Ivy was being pulled off of Rose. Rose, in turn, was caressing her jaw as it grew as red as Ivy's face.

"It's not true! It's not!" Ivy screamed out, catching the ears of everyone on the streambed as the shouting between them continued.

"It… could be both?" Jasmine offered, and almost immediately regretted the statement as all nearby heads turned to her. "I mean…" she rubbed her neck nervously, "plenty of people like men and women, right? It's not that unusual."

The statement was met with silence. She could almost feel the sound of crickets chirping.

'At least not in societies where people aren't beaten and murdered for it. Nice going, kid. You're making an ass out of yourself in front of a homophobic society.'

"Maybe where you're from." Nella offered in the tense air. Some people seemed to whisper or nod to each other at that. Jasmine wasn't entirely sure what it meant, but hoped it was nothing bad. "That said, with Ser Dareon… if he were that sort of man, he wouldn't have left Ashemark the way he did."

"O… kay. If you say so." That statement felt odd. Were they saying he was a bad person? Margaery must have known; but, clearly, didn't care since she spoke well of him. Though it also insinuated that he left, and was not cut out of the family as Melissa had put it. Where was the truth, then?

Well, Ser Dareon hasn't been kicked out of the castle, yet. Maybe she'll find the answer before it's too late.