"But Lettie! I can't believe that he would go to the park with her! If he's going to do that, then I'd rather go to the ball with him!" The dainty manicured finger at the end of the smooth white arm, ringed in gold bracelets of fine work, very definitely defined the young man standing only five feet in front of Lettie and her young Lady friend, who she was the daily escort of.
The young man, dressed sufficiently for his station of a traveling warrior - demarked by the sword at his side - and looking like a catch even for the city with his long black hair, dark surprised eyes, and very fine gorgeous features, took in the two young ladies, the comment just made, and back pedaled rapidly, even going so far as to shake his head as he retreated. The apple in his hand, still paused in front of his mouth, was completely forgotten. It made for a rather humorous scene, all considered.
"Lady Chrissy, I really don't think that's appropriate," Lettie answered the petty ire of the town's beautiful 'princess', although she was really only a Count's daughter. "I'm sure there are better ways to let a man know how you feel."
Lady Chrissy's eyes were narrowed, though, and she suddenly moved with purpose. She had the poor man by the wrist - the one holding the apple - before he could get away entirely. The panic in his body made even Lettie take a second look at him. He was tense and it made all of his tall slender body all of a sudden show just how muscled he was, even though the shirt, robe, and pants were slightly loose on him. Oh, dear.
"You're a traveling warrior, which means you can be hired. You're hired. By me. I need you to accompany me to tomorrow night's ball. You may leave after that." Lady Chrissy's eyes bored into the young man's, leaving no room to refuse. "How much?"
He blinked, once. "I don't have appropriate clothing."
"We'll supply that. You'll fit my brother's clothing." The young man appealed to Lettie. She nodded. He would. That didn't look like what he wanted, though, by the slight look of consternation that came across his face. Lettie put her finger by the side of her mouth, first letting it slide in front of her lips, with a pause directly in front of them. He caught the cue. His eyes sharpened just a little when he saw it.
He considered Lady Chrissy again. "I'm not much of a dancer." It sounded like one last gasp for freedom.
Lady Chrissy tossed her head. "You've got all day tomorrow to practice. I'm sure my tutor could be spared. It's not like he's much of a dancer either."
At that comment, the young warrior wanted freedom again. "I really don't want to be caught in the middle of a romantic tangle, young Lady. I would really like to be able to leave town, rather than sit in a cell for several years...or be attacked on my way out by the young man's friends. I'm not sure you can pay my price for that level of difficulty."
Lady Chrissy's eyes narrowed again and Lettie could see a thunderstorm in the making. Lettie stepped up. "I'm sure that if it could end with the two of them together, the friends would leave well enough alone," she negotiated.
"Lady Chrissy, if you will explain it plainly to your father, what your plan is, perhaps he will be willing to overlook your choice of escorts to the ball, and the chaos that may ensue. It is only right that if you're going to hire an escort, that you should make sure you don't kill him off. That's a waste of good talent."
Lettie eyed the young man one more time, "Not to mention good looks," although she said that more to herself. Ah. She'd made him a tad angry with that comment. She shrugged slightly and gave him a faint smile.
"Name your price," Lady Chrissy demanded.
The young man looked straight in her eyes. "Five gold." Lettie blinked. That was nearly Lady Chrissy's yearly allowance.
Lady Chrissy bit her lip, then nodded once. "Done." She released the wrist she was still holding in a tight grip. "I only need you on my arm to make him jealous, of course. But I do expect you to be pleasant company as well, as an escort ought."
"Of course," the answer was dry and a little droll.
"I'm the Lady Christine de Frontené, Count Frontené's daughter. This is my lady escort Miss Lettie. What is your name?"
"My name is Izark kia Tarj, Lady Christine." No bow, or even nod of the head. Lettie hid a smile behind her hand. He held himself with the calm lithe grace of a fighter, and none of the pompousness of the weak lordlings, nor any of the pride of those who were full of themselves. It was rather refreshing. Lettie decided she'd enjoy having him around, for the brief time he'd sold himself for. He looked at the apple in his hand. "Care for an apple?" he held it out to Lady Chrissy.
Lady Chrissy took it gracefully, then took his arm as well. "We are nearly done with our walk in the market. Come with us, and we'll take you to the house so you can be fitted for clothing and a room found for you. Do you need to collect your things from anywhere?" He had a bag slung over his shoulder and it seemed to be all he needed, for he shook his head. "Good." Lady Chrissy pulled on him, and the three continued the walk in the market.
She absently handed the apple to Lettie, who snuck it back into Izark's bag. He looked back at her in surprise. She gave him a bit of a smile, her real and friendly one this time. His own lip twitched. She nodded slightly and he turned back to listen politely to Lady Chrissy's further plans for the next evening.
As they wandered, Lettie kept her eyes open very carefully. It wouldn't take long for this to get on the wind and to every ear. The gossip was slim in this town, reused over and over, and the 'princess' was the hottest topic for the gossip of all.
Sure enough, the 'other' beau arrived on the scene. While Lady Chrissy was engrossed in a particular market item, Lettie lightly touched Izark on the shoulder, just enough to get his attention, then turned and walked away, directly to the man who was currently in the eye of Lady Chrissy. She glanced back once to make sure Izark was paying attention. He was, although it was divided. That was good enough.
"Lord Paulus," Lettie dipped ever so slightly in a curtsy, "are you come from your picnic with Marielle, then?"
Lord Paulus froze and his eyes went from Lady Chrissy back to Lettie and went wide. "Is that what she thinks?"
"Hmm, well, no. She thinks you did it to invite Marielle to be in your bed tonight, so she's found herself someone else to escort her tomorrow. ...All in the name of making you jealous in fair play, of course. The poor man's only agreed to it if the two of you end up together in the end and your friends," her eyes raked the four young men standing with him, "don't try to beat up on him as he leaves town after. I think given her temperament, you and he could come to an agreement?"
Lord Paulus paused, calming immediately. "Can you free him up for a bit?" he finally asked.
"Certainly," Lettie dipped in her abbreviated curtsy again and turned away, winking at her favorite in the group, who responded in kind. They were already going together. Their relationship was so lacking in gossip it made the other girls completely jealous. Oh, yes, and Lettie and Thom will be there, too. That sort of thing said in passing and then forgotten again.
The only rumor that continued to go around was that after Lady Chrissy and Lord Paulus were married, Lettie and Thom would become their châtelaine and head secretary. As long as that rumor continued, Lettie was content. It secured their future.
Lettie put her hand on Izark's shoulder again, and gestured with her eyes towards the young men, then slipped into his place. Izark hesitated only slightly before falling back and slipping out of sight. Lettie made his excuses when Lady Chrissy noticed his absence and kept her from noticing Lord Paulus. In fifteen minutes the lithe warrior was back, slipping into place, giving his apologies, but otherwise it was as if he hadn't been gone at all.
Their arrival at the manor home was long after Lettie's feet hurt - again. Lady Chrissy never purchased much. It was more to see if anything new had come in with the merchants. She did at least only go now when merchants actually had deliveries. Enough fruitless days and pleading from her escort finally had won that sense some room in her delicate brain.
"Guard, is my Father in his office?" Lady Chrissy asked as soon as she was in the door.
"Yes, My Lady," the guard bowed.
Lady Chrissy swept the three of them (not the guard) up the stairs and directly to her father's office. She knocked politely and waited to be admitted. She'd finally learned that sense when she was eleven and he'd finally had the sense to scold her for interrupting yet another important meeting with dignitaries from other places. It wasn't 'cute' anymore at that age.
Before they entered, Lettie put her hand on Lady Chrissy's arm so that Izark could free his arm from her grasp, in the guise of getting her attention for a simple question. Entering the office of the Count on her hired man's arm would not be seen well, and both Lettie and Izark understood that, even if Lady Chrissy didn't. Lady Chrissy had merely forgotten she was still holding onto him, since she was used to walking that way with Lord Paulus.
They entered, the two behind the one, as was appropriate. "Father, Paulus is going off with other women again, and just before the ball, too!" Lady Chrissy complained with her lower lip stuck out petulantly. "I won't have it any more. If he wants to marry me, then he needs to have the proper decency to treat me as a wife, not as a statue to place where he wants it and then ignore it.
"This is Izark kia Tarj, a wandering swordsman, who I've hired to escort me to the ball tomorrow, to set Paulus in his proper place and frame. He's agreed, based on the understanding that I tell you exactly what I'm doing so that you don't improperly punish him. Will you allow it?"
Count Frontené looked at her with just a touch of exasperation. "Surely young Lord Paulus has done no such thing."
Lady Chrissy stamped her foot, clenched both hands at her sides and scowled. "He has. He went off with Marielle today, and she had a picnic basket on her arm. It isn't right for him to picnic with other ladies when we are intended."
The Count sighed and his eyebrows turned down at the outside edges in dismay, but couldn't find words to answer her. He looked to Izark, who looked back calmly, and paused when he finally recognized the highly good looks on this particular young man. The Count's eyes actually widened just a little and when he turned to Lettie, many questions played in his eyes.
"Perhaps, Lord Frontené, you'd like to interview Mister Izark to assure yourself you can trust your daughter with him." The latter was only faintly emphasized. She felt Izark's glance, but she didn't respond to it.
The Count looked at Lettie just a little longer, then turned to his daughter. "I think that is a wise idea, Chrissy. I will speak with him for a moment. Do you plan on having him stay here?"
"Yes, please, Father. He also needs appropriate clothing for the ball. I thought we could loan him something from Forthright's closet. No need for extra expenses for only one night, after all."
"Then, please see to arrangements while I speak with Mister Izark," the Count dismissed his daughter and her escort.
"Yes, Father," they both curtsied and left, Lettie not looking at Izark, although she could feel his eyes on her back.
When the door was closed behind them, Lady Chrissy immediately set about ordering servants to prepare a room and bath, add a guest to the dining table, and went to her brother's rooms, ordering the guard on the office door to have Izark escorted to his own room when he was released. Lettie followed after, of course.
They argued over what clothing would be appropriate for Izark for the ball for nearly a half-hour. It entertained Lady Chrissy, who loved to choose clothing anyway, and it was Lettie's job to keep her entertained. So, when that was finally decided, Lettie suggested that if the Lady Chrissy felt it was appropriate to invite a traveling wanderer to eat at a Count's table, then she should at least provide clothing appropriate to it as well. Lady Chrissy blushed at her thoughtlessness, but it would be already too late to let Izark eat with the servants.
Lettie didn't mind. It meant she would have company at the table, but she expected it would be reticent company. Izark didn't seem the type to be comfortable at the high table. Her hidden scolding would also put Lady Chrissy into the frame of mind from this time on to be thinking of how to make it sufficiently appropriate to have invited him, and how to engage him in appropriate conversation. Just another learning and testing experience for the young Lady, really.
Selecting the dinner clothing took another twenty minutes after that. Surely after nearly an hour, Izark would be resting in his rooms. "Shall I take these to him, then, My Lady?" Lettie asked humbly.
"Oh, would you, Lettie? I'd like to rest before dinner. You may also once those are delivered," Lady Chrissy said gratefully.
"Thank you, Lady Chrissy," Lettie bowed and they removed themselves from Lord Forthright's rooms. He was visiting his fiancée in another town, but would be arriving the next day for the ball, which was to announce her to the higher folks in town. For all that it was their ball, Lady Chrissy was determined to make it her own - again.
The door was opened at her knock. "Mister Izark, I have the clothing with me. If I may?" Lettie was all servant.
Izark stepped back and invited her in, closing the door quietly behind her. Lettie walked to the bed and placed the two sets of clothing on it in separate piles. "And were your interviews satisfactory, Mister Izark?" she asked businesslike as she began to hang up the ball clothing in the small wardrobe in the room. "This one is for the ball tomorrow."
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him take a pose, one foot out to the side as he put his weight on the other and crossed his arms. He tipped his head at her and she picked up the shirt to hang as well. "I suppose," he allowed. "Does this really happen so often with the Lady Christine?"
"Mmm," Lettie pursed her lips as she considered and hung the shirt in the wardrobe. "Not quite in this way. We've not had the sudden fortune...or I suppose from your point of view, misfortune, of having someone take the place of the bringer of jealousy who was not already in this town. Really, she's worn out all of her options at this point."
She walked back for the last item on the bed. "I shouldn't be surprised if Lord Paulus is ready to actually follow through on her expectations by now." She glanced at Izark at this, but he didn't give away what he and Lord Paulus had talked about. She hung the last item and turned to him.
She looked him up and down. It made him uncomfortable. He often had girls look at him with interest, then. Not surprising. She pointed to the clothes still on the bed. "She's invited you to eat at the high table tonight. These are your clothes." His face fell.
"I'll be there as well." He looked slightly more hopeful, but still resigned. "I'll be glad to have thoughtful company that is pleasing on the eye for once." He blushed and it pleased her enough to elicit the lifting of one side of her lips.
He was immediately impatient with her. "Do you always tease strangers?" he asked irritably.
"I tease everyone, Mister Izark. It's my personal entertainment, for having to be the entertainment and instructor for a delicate flower with an even more delicate brain. You needn't worry yourself, however. I have an intended I am perfectly happy with who'll be escorting me to tomorrow's ball. You've already met him and we are both probably already included in Lord Paulus' plans."
He relaxed just a little, then gave a nod. "I was told he would tell you."
Lettie nodded. She curtsied slightly and moved to the door. He stepped out of the way. She put her hand on the door knob, then looked at him over her shoulder. "Twelve percent of the total, Mister Izark." She opened the door and closed it behind her, leaving him behind, open mouthed.
The door was immediately opened. "Six!"
She turned towards him, a scoffing look on her face. "You'd not be getting any of the remainder without me. Ten."
"I'm getting the most from my original employer, which you didn't help with. Eight."
Lettie paused, then nodded. He bowed to her and she curtsied back, then left for her own rooms, his door clicking shut behind her.
-o-o-o-
The moral: Take your opportunities when they come to earn just a little more, even when they are unexpected or unusual. ...At least that's the moral Izark learned. That and - some women are actually more interested in his earning capacity than his looks.
...Although by the end of the night of the ball, he was almost to decide that working for an insect like Nada would be better than on the arm of a woman trying to make her man jealous. (Of course, he hadn't met Nada yet at this point, nor Noriko, either.) Only the fact of the plans set with the Count and the lordling kept him in place. The extra income - not to mention five whole gold - plus the plans - made it worth it...by a slight edge.
Lettie kept Izark sane to the best of her ability. She needed to protect her investment after all. Ah, yes, and the plan was to answer Lettie's scolding of "surely there are better ways to get a man's attention". Lady Chrissy didn't play this game any more after this ball. All seven men made sure of it, to Lettie's satisfaction.
Thank you for reading along with me. I hope you have enjoyed Izark's version of From Far Away, re-written slightly to account for an intellectual Noriko. I have greatly enjoyed writing it. Please also enjoy the version from Noriko's perspective: The Dangers of Being an Intellectual, if you haven't yet. - Arigato gozaimsu. Ryuu no Okaasan