-
January 29, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet
Corus, Tortall
-
Not willing to risk missing him, Jasson chose to wait in Liam's quarters for him to return, rather than go looking for him. He knew that there would be fallout he would have to deal with when Liam discovered him; it wasn't likely his brother would be pleased to realize Jasson had free access to his rooms. All he could do was hope Liam would accept the completely false explanation that a servant had let him in. Jasson would make a point to hide his copy of the key more thoroughly in the future, just in case. He definitely wouldn't be giving it up.
Liam certainly took his time coming back from where it was he had been off to. Jasson didn't mind; it gave him time to think over what he was going to say. He didn't want to risk not explaining himself properly.
Finally, the door opened, and Liam entered. He spotted Jasson quickly and stopped just inside the room, hand still on the latch. For a moment, he didn't say anything, instead looking at Jasson as if waiting for some sort of explanation. Jasson did not offer one.
"Actually, your room is downstairs," Liam finally said, one eyebrow slightly raised.
Jasson did not move from the chair he had seated himself in. "I have to talk to you about something. Shut the door?"
"Oh, you're talking to me now?" The door remained open, and Liam stepped aside, obviously intending to shut it only when Jasson was safely on the other side. "That's interesting – last I heard I was a lying prat."
"I think there's something wrong with Lianne," Jasson said, arms folded across his chest as he looked as his brother impatiently.
Liam blinked at him, then turned and shut the door.
-
February 6, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet
Jerykun Island, the Copper Isles
-
Hiresh did not return again the day of their argument, much to Lianne's relief, nor the next day. Her solitude was broken only by the servants who brought up her three daily meals.
Lianne hated the servants, though she was forced to admit, they seemed very dedicated to their job. The visits were always the same, though the servants never were. Two would come; a male and a female. The male was always much larger than Lianne and very intimidating, while the female was generally either quite young or quite old and, Lianne suspected, probably not good for much. Both were always silent. The female would carry the tray with Lianne's food and drink, then retreat to the hallway. Lianne would be forced to eat with the male standing nearby, watching her like a hawk. She had guessed his job quickly; three times she had tried to quietly hide the knife given to her in the folds of her skirt, only to have it quickly taken away. Eventually, she had given up.
When she had finished eating, the male would open the door again, the female would enter to collect her tray, and both would leave as quietly as they had entered. Lianne generally tried to disrupt this set pattern in some way, be it through chattering idly throughout the entire meal or dragging it out to a ridiculous length. Thus far, she had failed each and every time.
When the door opened shortly after Lianne had awoken, she did not bother to look up, as it was just about the right time for her breakfast to arrive. It was only the soft 'ahem' that followed which drew her eyes away from the book she had been skimming.
Hiresh stood in the doorway, watching her with a vaguely interested expression. This surprised Lianne; typically he visited her much later in the day.
"I hope you aren't too hungry," he said, after a lengthy pause. "Your breakfast will have to wait today. You have an appointment."
Lianne didn't reply, somewhat disturbed. Hiresh seemed to have returned to his typical behavior; he was smiling pleasantly at her, and completely ignored the hearth, where the histories were still piled.
After another long silence, he raised his eyebrows at her, smile not faltering. I'd really rather not be late."
Slowly, she stood. Despite having wanted to simply get out of the room, even for only a few moments, more than anything else for the last several days, the idea now made her nervous. An appointment? Lianne doubted she would greatly enjoy meeting with anyone Hiresh would consider worth being on time for.
On the other hand, Lianne wondered if it was possible wherever they were going was not located in the very immediate vicinity. That could work to her advantage. He doesn't look very fast, she thought, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes as she crossed to the door.
All thoughts of running away were quelled when Lianne stepped out into the stone corridor beyond her door. Two young - and extremely athletic, she couldn't help but notice – men waited there, regarding her curiously. Where Hiresh was large and imposing, these men were lean and wiry, and Lianne seriously doubted she could outrun them, even if the tried.
Hiresh set off down the corridor and Lianne glumly followed a few steps behind, closely flanked by the guards. No longer interested in trying to make a sudden escape, she concentrated, instead, on at least trying to remember how to get away from her room, if she were to ever get out on her own. It didn't take her very long to notice that whoever had designed the halls had clearly not been interested in simplicity; she found the twists and turns incredibly difficult to track. By the time they had descended a second staircase, Lianne was completely lost. She walked the rest of the way in disheartened silence.
Hiresh eventually stopped at a set of large double doors, two floors below where Lianne's room was located, and - she was fairly sure - in a completely different area of the building. The guards moved forward, pushing the doors open quickly, and Hiresh placed a hand on the small of Lianne's back, leading her inside. The gesture made her skin crawl.
The room was, as near as Lianne could tell, usually used as a dining room. However, the large table taking up a good deal of the space was not covered with food, but with a variety of fabrics in many colors and textures. A petit redhead sat in one chair, looking Lianne over with a critical eye.
"Mistress Amiel, my personal tailor," Hiresh motioned the woman closer with a slight hand gesture. "I've asked her to fit you for a few things."
He lead her to an overturned box set on the floor near the table, which Lianne stepped up onto, then seated himself nearby, offering a smile she thought was possibly intended to be reassuring.
"I don't suppose you'd consider a pair of breeches, would you?" Lianne muttered, raising her arms so Amiel could slip a measuring string around her waist.
With a short, humorless chuckle, Hiresh shook his head. "No. I don't think so."
"I thought not," she sighed.
The dress fitting was, as Lianne expected it would be, dreadfully boring. It was also extremely long, though this was no one's fault but her own. Annoyed at being made to stand still while Amiel measured and draped various fabrics across Lianne's frame, she could not resist being as contrary as she possibly could. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and fidgeted on a regular basis. When the tailor tried to take measurements, Lianne would slump, shift her weight, or make quick movements; whenever Amiel came anywhere near her with pins, Lianne suddenly became extremely jittery, and many pins continuously ended up crooked, and had to be replaced several times. By the end of the fitting, Amiel was beside herself. Lianne wondered if she might never return.
Hiresh, of course, said nothing of this. In fact, he seemed rather on the cheerful side, filling the quiet of the room with idle conversation on everything from local politics to the weather. Lianne did not respond to any of this until they were well on their way back to her room.
"What would these new dresses be for, then?" she asked, cutting off his reflection on the upcoming rainy season abruptly.
Hiresh glanced at her, seemingly pleased by her interest. "For the wedding, of course. You didn't think I'd have you wear that, would you? It's much too plain."
Lianne very suddenly felt extremely cold, and she stared at him, open mouthed. She had been right; wishing Hiresh would get on with whatever it was he meant to had been rather foolish after all.
-
January 29, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet
Corus, Tortall
-
"Lianne!"
It had taken him a good deal of searching and asking around for her, but Liam finally found Lianne on her way out of the library just after dinner. Book in hand, she looked at him, mouth pressed into a line.
"If it's about Jasson," she said, looking extremely irritated, "then please spare me. I don't want anything to do with this stupid fight."
"It's not," Liam assured her, leading her away from the library's doors in the direction from which he had come. "Actually, it's about Alan. No one's seen him all day, and he missed a meeting he was supposed to go to."
The cross expression on Lianne's face vanished instantly. "That's not like him at all."
"That's why I'm worried," Liam said. "Have you seen him?"
She shook her head, frowning. "No, I haven't seen him since early yesterday."
Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "All right. Thanks. If he hasn't turned up by tomorrow, I'll start asking around the city, I suppose."
"I hope he's alright." She bit her lower lip, looking so concerned that Liam almost felt bad for bringing it up to her.
"He's probably fine," he said, touching her arm. "You know Alan. He can take care of himself."
They talked for a few minutes more before she left, heading in the direction of her room. Liam watched her go, jaw clenched tightly.
"Did you hear all that?" he finally asked, not bothering to turn around.
Alan rounded the corner he had been lurking behind and walked to Liam's side, a frown on his face. He nodded.
Liam turned to look at him. "I didn't like it at all."
"No," Alan shook his head, "I don't either."
-
February 6, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet
Jerykun Island, the Copper Isles
-
It turned out desperation did not help when attempting delicate operations – not that Lianne was any good at lock picking when she was perfectly calm, either.
Despite having already tried, and failed, to unlock the door with her embroidery needles, Lianne still found herself desperately poking at the lock mechanism on her door through the keyhole. Earlier, she had tried very carefully to pick the lock through skill, rather than luck. Now that the sun had set, Lianne could barely see; the candles in her room did not give nearly enough light for her to peer through the keyhole and try to see what she was doing. She had given up on skill entirely. The reasonable part of her knew that she wasn't going to gain anything from this other than, perhaps, a very sore wrist, but sitting and doing nothing felt wrong.
It had been hours since Hiresh had returned Lianne to her room after the dress fitting. She hadn't been able to concentrate on anything other than the suddenly very real fact that she was here to get married since. It hadn't taken her long to reach the decision that she was fed up, and that she was leaving.
If…she could manage go figure out how. Thus far, it wasn't looking good. Already, she had tried to kick the door down, and found herself entirely lacking the physical strength. Smashing the door handle with one of the large history books was similarly a failure; all Lianne had managed to do was hurt her hands and put a rather large dent in the book's cover.
I'll never get out, she thought, a faint sense of panic beginning to set in. I'll be stuck here until he marries me, and then I'll probably get locked right back up again. With a shake of her head, she began poking through the keyhole with renewed vigor. I'm leaving, even if I have to carved my way through the door with this blasted –
The needle in her hand hit something inside the keyhole and stuck. Lianne tugged on it and found she could not pull it back out. She frowned, wiggling the metal to no avail; the needle must have wedged itself under something, and tightly.
Gritting her teeth in frustration, she gave the needle a hard yank. The thin metal snapped cleanly in half, leaving her with part of the needle in her hand, part of it jammed into the keyhole, and a growing expression of disbelief on her face.
Maybe I'm cursed, she grumbled, silently.
Disgusted, she stood and crossed to her chest, opening it and trading the small bit of metal for one of the thicker books. It took all her willpower to not literally stomp back to the door, book in hand. She lined up the one corner of the spin with the keyhole and gave the needle a hard prod with the book, no longer caring how much noise she had made. When the needle had been jammed in far enough that Lianne was confident it wouldn't be immediately visible, she dropped the book to the ground and rested her forehead against the smooth wood of the door, throat feeling very tight. She would not cry – she wouldn't. Well, maybe just a little.
She sniffed, wanting terribly to just be back in her own room, with her own things, and her own family. That thought brought the tears in earnest, and she did not bother trying to hold them back. Unable to contain her frustration, she kicked at the door, and then angrily jostled the handle, the cause of so many of her problems.
It turned, and Lianne stopped crying very quickly.
She let go, pulling her hand back and blinking at the handle, confused. Wondering if she had perhaps imagined it, she reached for the handle again and gave it a turn. The door opened.
For a long moment, Lianne was dumbfounded. There was no way she could think of that she could have possibly picked the lock by smacking the key hole with a book, and yet there the door was, unlocked. After about a minute of staring at the door and trying to piece together what had just happened, a very important thought struck her: she didn't really care how it was open. Lianne hurried out the door, shutting it behind her.
The hall looked deserted; she greatly hoped that it was late enough that most of the building's other inhabitants had since gone to bed. Caution slowed her steps; it took her what felt like hours to reach the end of the corridor, and the forceful pounding of her heart against her ribs was extremely distracting.
She had absolutely no idea how long – and how many wrong turns - it took her, of course, but eventually Lianne reached the first staircase. There had been a few tense moments; several times she had been sure she had heard movement somewhere nearby, only to find no one anywhere near her. Now, having reached her first goal, she was unsure what to do next. The stairs descended into darkness below her, and Lianne knew that once she reached the bottom of them she would have absolutely no idea which way to go.
In the end, that didn't matter much anyway. Lianne did not notice the door directly behind her open, and by the time she was aware of the hands reaching for her, one was already clamped secure over her mouth, and the other was pulling her steadily backwards.
A figure she couldn't entirely make out shut the door silently once Lianne was wholly in the room, and the hands holding her let go. Trembling slightly, she turned, having braced herself for a guard, and instead finding a pair of green-hazel eyes that she knew very well, though usually they were several inches higher.
"Going somewhere?" Aly asked.