Oh dear, it's been a while.

I can't apologize enough, I had sh*t going on in RL and got completely unmotivated for a while, but now that sense was knocked back into my thick head, I'll try to update more. Anyway, sorry for the long wait and thank you for your patience.

The Price of Pride

9

London streets buzzed with activity under the bright galling sun. The heat was such that Donna was already regretting picking her brown overcoat. True, it complimented her dress better, but her skin felt clammy and sticky with perspiration. She could not wait to arrive and get rid of the coat, lest she suffer a heat stroke. A twitch from the other occupant of the carriage brought her attention. To Donna's exasperation, Lyla did not appear affected by the warmth. Her big wide eyes greedily stared outside the windows of the barouche, as if far too busy contemplating the activity to bother with the heat.

To be fair, the afternoon seemed to be bustling. Donna had scarcely seen such activity from the sight of a carriage. She and her maid usually wandered through the streets to get to the point they wanted. They would usually walk through the park or stop by the bookstore, and end by the tea shop. However, Persephone had given strict instructions as to how the day would go: they were to visit Miss Kent, stay no longer than an hour, and return home. There would be no stop at Mrs. Beaumont's today, no matter how much Donna longed for it.

"Donna!"

She jumped and stared at her sister. Lyla was now glaring at her.

"I have been calling your name repetitively! Have you been woolgathering again?"

"My apologies sister," she replied curtly. "What is it?"

Lyla's cheeks brightened, though Donna suspected it was due to her intonation. The younger girl then shyly lifted her hand at eye level so she could see the obviously visible dark dots on the fabric covering her hands.

"May we stop at a shop for gloves? The one I took have stains of ink on the fingertips. I cannot show up to meet a friend with stained gloves, even if she comes from the colonies!"

Donna narrowed her eyes. Persephone had given strict orders that they were to visit Lyla's friend and nothing else. On the other hand, she would fret at having one of her daughters showing a faux-pas such as tainted clothes, even if they were just gloves.

"Did you pick those on purpose?" she asked suspiciously.

Lyla's cheeks reddened and she looked down. Donna bit back a groan. In those moments, she wished Diana had come with them. Lyla would have never dared to try such a cheap trick on her.

"Fine," she agreed reluctantly. "But you don't get to overspend your allowance and you pick a pair quickly, is it understood?"

She regretted the harshness of her words when her sister's shoulders slumped. Her poor health and young age did not often allow Lyla to wander in town. Donna knew how lucky she was to be healthy as a horse, as Persephone would say. She had been brought to town by her tenth year, bright eyed and awed at the busy city. The charm had somewhat dissipated with the years, but this outing, she realized, would be Lyla's first experience.

She called for the stage coach to stop near a shop she frequented and helped her sister down. Thankfully, the inside was not as full as she feared. This particular store was well-furnished and every young lady's fashion dream, but the stalls were hardly separated and it would be easy to lose Lyla in a blink of an eye. Donna directed her sister to the gloves area, allowed her to linger by the other accessories on the way, with the occasional reminder that they had an invitation to fulfill. From the corner of the eye, she noted a group of young ladies rounded together. Four of them, dressed in the heightened fashion, stood in circle, their bonnets bobbling as they no doubt exchanged gossip.

She winced slightly when she recognized Miss Bertinelli in the lot. Though each had a common point by having a foreign father, that lady was not her friend. These girls lived to gossip, and the teasing had hurt her before. It would be better if Lyla could avoid them, for she would not understand the undertones of vipers yet. Thankfully, they seemed to be absorbed in a serious discussion. Curiosity won over and she discreetly stepped closer.

"-believe he will return?" one of the ladies she did not know questioned. "Such an announcement to make…you are very lucky Helena."

"Nothing is official," Miss Bertinelli said on a hushed tone, her fan flopping vigorously. "But we have danced at every ball we have met."

"Are you certain he is not toying with your feelings?" the same young lady inputted. "His godfather does not hide his promiscuity."

"I know he had a few trysts in the past," Miss Bertinelli said, brushing aside the comment with another flap of her fan. Donna recognized it as a sign of impatience. "It was well rumored that he and that exotic actress –or was it an opera singer? –Miss Kori had an open affair going on."

Donna frowned at the name –she did recall the woman in question, because of her name of the headlines of newspaper, and also because…She suddenly paled. There was one certain gentleman who had been known for his lavishing attempts to court her during her time in London, mostly because of his relation to another very public man. The mention of an engagement hadn't reached the gossip pages yet, but if it was kept under wraps…

"Even if Mr. Grayson does stray," she went on airily. "It is only a small matter –he will be easily forgiven, as he is far too handsome and rich!"

The girls giggled in response. Donna crushed the pain in her chest. She shouldn't be upset, as she barely knew the young man. They had only interacted once, and he might have shown her kindness, he was still completely unknown to her. Then why did her chest hurt?

"Donna? I am ready to leave."

The rest of the conversation seemed to fade in the background as she focused back the voice of her sister. Lyla had found a pretty pair of gloves, dark velvet red to fit her dress. Her eyes were glowing in excitement, hardly noticing the inner turmoil of her sister.

"Have you paid yet?" she forced herself to ask. When Lyla nodded, she smiled. "Good, let's go then. It shall not do to be late to visit your friend."

Mr. Grayson was getting married. Good for him. She just wished she didn't have the urge to strangle Miss Bertinelli for getting her hands on a young man she wouldn't have minded knowing better.

POP

Traveling with the Bana-Migdall had always been an interesting experience. Artemis was often sick and cranky so when they stopped at a stage or a board house for the night, she would scowl continuously and barely speak at all. Alexa often drifted into bewildering conversation subjects, like the life of insects or the latest oddity she had read –and three uncomfortable miles, started a debate on whether the Scots wore underwear or not under their kilts. Diana herself had brought books to pass time, although one could read so many treaties on trade and novels for so long. The journey lasted the four days it was planned and she was much relieved when the carriage finally arrived in sight of Lady Menalippe Kapodistrias's manor.

The wilderness she admired from the window, even though the ride itself was far from smooth. Diana thought that should her aunt be generous enough to spare her a horse, she might enjoy riding in the lands. The manor itself, from afar, seemed stuck at the top of a small mount. It was surrounded by a stone wall, high enough to make the entry of intruders difficult. She could see the rooftop, assumed the manor was at least three levels high, thus higher than Themyscira. The architecture was difficult to guess, as it seemed half covered with ivy, but she suspected it would not include the Greek fantasies her father had imposed upon their home. As they finally entered the yard, she focused her attention back on her friends.

Artemis was still scowling, her skin a little green, while Alexa still appeared lost in her dreams. It would be up to her to do the presentations. The door opened and a valet helped her down. She stepped into the yard and let her gaze wander. As she had expected, the manor was slightly higher than her own home, though narrower. Half of its surface was covered in green, but the rest showed a stony surface with earth colors rather than whitish marble. To some, the sight might appear barbaric and ancient. Diana found it warm and homely.

She redirected her gaze to the few people who had expected their arrival. Two valets and two maids stood on the side, one of the latter discreetly stealing glances at them. A woman in her mid-forties stood in the middle of the yard, dressed in a deep green and red gown. Her dark blonde hair had been piled atop her head, her sharp and cold eyes surveyed the arriving party while her lips pursed down in apparent distaste. She could have been called handsome, had the frown on her face not been so pronounced. The three newcomers curtsied. Lady Kapodistrias barely nodded in reply.

"Ladies," the woman said, her voice as dry and haughty as her stance. "Welcome to Stirling Manor,"

Her eyes landed on Diana, and she knew her stay would not go as smoothly as she hoped.

"You look very much like your father," Lady Kapodistrias said coolly. "A shame. Your mother was a handsome woman."

Diana pressed her lips together, weighing the consequences of a reply. She decided that if her aunt did not like her without knowing her, then a little impertinence would hardly make things worse:

"As I barely remember her, I cannot tell," she said calmly. "And a painted portrait can be deceitful."

Lady Kapodirstrias's frown deepened. She then reported her attention to the twins. Diana did not know whether she ought to feel relief that her address was barely any warmer:

"Misses Bana-Mighdall, a pleasure to meet you," she said. Artemis grunted and Alexa beamed dreamingly.

"You have a beautiful house, Lady Kapodristrias," the younger twin declared. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she evaluated her future lodgings for the upcoming month. "Are there any ghosts in the area? What of your neighbors?"

Her questions were met with stony silence. Eventually, Lady Kapodistrias said:

"There are many ghosts in Scotland, Miss Bana-Mighdall, and you may come across a few." She ignored the redhead's enthusiastic and very unladylike squeal. "As for the rest, I chose this house for its lack of neighbors."

Upon these words, she turned around and headed back inside. The three young women exchanged a glance and followed her. They entered a rather sober hall, large and dark –although the blame could be laid at the upcoming nightfall. Instead of paintings and furniture or other artful decorations, large tapestries covered the walls to keep the warmth, and old armors stood in silent rows. Diana had to hide her surprise, as the atmosphere felt far more sober than the lightness of Themyscira. Still, perhaps the sight would be different in the morning lights.

"Three rooms have been arranged," the woman spoke curtly. "Chloe will attend the three of you. I assume that will not be an issue?"

One maid for three young ladies, in London, might have. Here, where Diana doubted they would be assaulted by visitors, it hardly mattered.

"There will be no issue, Lady Kapodistrias," Diana spoke for the three of them. She heard her friends agree in chorus. The woman stopped and glanced over her shoulder.

Hazel, she thought. Her aunt had hazel eyes. Her mother's had been blue. Diana sighed inwardly, wondering what exactly she had been expecting. She had always wanted to meet that part of the family she was unfamiliar with, but the closer she looked, the less resemblance she found. Perhaps she ought to wait a few days and try to speak with her aunt later in private. She might learn more about her mother, if politely asked.

"You may all call me Aunt Menalippe," the woman said sharply. "I had a long day and will retire. Should you decide to dine in your rooms, do advise Mr. Glaucus. He will make the necessary arrangements to send trails to your rooms. Good night ladies."

And upon these words, she took off towards the closest corridor, the bottom of her robe twirling in her wake. In the semi obscure room, the effect was impressive and soon enough, only the three ladies, the maid Chloe and the butler Glaucus remained.

"I apologize Diana, this is likely not the kind of retreat you were expecting," Alexa said once their host had vanished. Diana raised an eyebrow; the twin went on: "We did not expect Lady Ka- I mean, Aunt Menalippe's…reception."

"Mother mentioned something about horses, so you should be able to borrow one and ride," Artemis inputted. Now that there was no more traveling scheduled, she appeared in better mood.

"She also mentioned that Lady Kapodistrias' temper mellows with time." Alexa added with a surprisingly optimistic smile. "Do not get on your high horses, Artemis, and all will be well."

The redhead frowned.

"Why won't you tell Diana the same?"

Her twin flicked invisible dust from her gown.

"She can behave properly without being prompted to."

Diana did not miss the light tension in her words. Her eyes skipped from one sister to another. Artemis appeared to be fuming while Alexa bitterly turned her back to address the groom. None of this confrontational behavior had occurred during the journey. What had happened between the two? She glanced again at the eldest, temperamental twin. Artemis was now avoiding her gaze. Odd, she thought. Hopefully she would get a sense of what was happening between the sisters, and their issues would be solves, else this was promising to be a very long stay.

POP

"You are cancelling your ball?"

The room glowed with the burning fire. The clock stroke five times. Bruce put down his cup of tea and faced the couple sitting across him. He had known Lord Oliver and Lady Dinah Fitzroy for years. The former Miss Dinah Lance had been a playmate on Gotham's ground until his parents' death and a faithful correspondent growing up. Oliver was one of the few aristocrats he could respect, even though their meeting had occurred in interesting circumstances. Bruce had introduced them to each other and their marriage had been sealed within months. Needless to say, he considered them trusted friends.

"The ball is cancelled, letters has been sent earlier today with our most sincere apologies," Dinah confirmed with a smile. "Though I wonder why you seem upset about this. If I did not know you better, I should describe you outraged."

"Not outraged," Bruce protested as he leaned back into the comfortable cushions. "Merely surprised."

"Or annoyed," Oliver topped with an amused smirk. "You are not so usually keen on attending my little parties." He raised a knowing eyebrow. "Did we upset your plans, whichever they were?"

He could hardly reply the affirmative as no concrete plans had been made, just a vague idea on how to push Luthor to react to young Jason Troy's presence. Now he would have to recalculate his plans. And deal with an equally upset Lois. His friend had been looking forward to attending the ball.

"Never mind that," he muttered as he shook his head. "Do tell, is something the matter? This is not in your habits to forego a soirée so close to date, especially with so many prestigious guests invited. Has something happened?"

The man laughed and shook his head.

"Dinah and I are looking for a calmer settling for the upcoming months. You must-"

His words were interrupted by the creaking door. A boy peeked from behind. Bruce smiled at the sight of the newcomer.

"Mr. Roy Fitzroy," he greeted. "Will you join us?"

The seven year old boy's face brightened at the invitation and stepped in. The three adults watched with some amusement as he seemed to remember his manners and stiffened his spine. His hands joined in his back as he belatedly bowed.

"Good evening Uncle Wayne," he greeted with restrained but genuine pleasure. "I thought I have recognized your voice."

"Have you escaped your tutor again?" Oliver demanded with equally restrained annoyance. "It's the third time this week."

"Hardly a break of your record, papa," the boy retorted with a sly, impertinent grin. "I believe I was told you somehow escaped your mentors once a day." Oliver stared at Bruce, eyeing him with a hint of 'see how my own son talks back at me'. "Moreover, I have not seen Uncle Wayne in a very long time, and shall not see him before a while either. Therefore, I was right to pay a visit to your rooms before the end of the day."

Bruce turned back towards his friends and frowned.

"For a while?" he echoed. "Are you well?"

Oliver sighed while Dinah smiled.

"Roy, my dear, do return to your lessons. Uncle Wayne will stop on the way out."

The boy looked about to protest but one glance was enough to silence him.

"I will not leave before seeing you, Roy," Bruce promised with a fond smile.

His words seemed to satisfy him so he bowed and left the room.

"You are good with him Bruce, as you were with Richard," Dinah said with a warm smile. Bruce sighed and resignedly waited for the comment on his celibacy when she put her hand over her stomach and added: "We hope you will be good to this one."

He blinked, glanced between the two, and slowly smiled.

"Am I to wish you joy?" he said warmly at the beaming parents. "Is this the reason why you seek refuge out of town?"

"We will be moving to Scotland, in a rather secluded area a few miles away from Gretna Green," Oliver announced. "Dinah needs rest and quiet, but I know a wise woman who will care for her when the child will arrive and Roy still needs his lessons. His tutor has family living there and will stay with them when he does not teach Roy."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. That could not be all.

"Why remove yourself so far away?" he inquired. "You have another residence in the countryside that will do just fine."

His friends exchanged a look, confirming his suspicion that something was amiss. Dinah spoke first:

"Our country residence is well-known and will not stop unwanted visitors. We have chosen a lease to ensure our tranquility and also for you to indulge us. You have done us many services in the past, Bruce. We were hoping to return the favor by asking you to come with us, at least for a month."

"We noticed you have been acting quite unlike yourself lately," Oliver cut in before he could even speak. "Even though your business is going smoothly and your ward had not gotten involved in suspicious schemes."

"You have separated from Miss Kyle," Dinah went on. Bruce winced and wondered how exactly they had learned that piece of information. Perhaps Selina had caused a bigger fuss than he expected. "And though we applaud that maneuver, you are not the kind of man who would run without a mistress. And you have shown considerable interest for Mr. Luthor lately, even though the man's hands are tied by his lack of fortune and lack of business partners."

"Richard has agreed to take over during your absence," Oliver went on, "and will send your regularly updates though –what is his name already, Mr Todd? He also insists you need to reflect on something and is hoping you will take the right decision upon your return."

Bruce gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. Given the couple's innocent eye-batting, they had most likely arranged everything with Richard. He strongly disliked being managed thus. He had his ward would be having words whenever he put his hands on the little schemer.

"I will think about it," he replied drily. He had no intention of accompanying them. Too many things to tidy up in London and plots to uncover. He was unnerved even more when the Fitzroys did not seem surprised by his answer.

"Of course. We leave on Tuesday next in the morning," Dinah said with a knowing smile. "Please let us know Monday of your decision."