Dragon Age
"The Relic"
Chapter Eleven: Jean
The party that occurred the second night of the games put the initial feast to shame, things were much more relaxed despite the heated tempers between winners and losers of the Archery and Sword. A Rivaini Officer named Honzo took Archery and the Sword came down to Bull and a southern Fereldan Bann's son. The warrior was superb and Bull had to give it to him, he did extremely well and was able to snatch victory right out from under the Qunari.
Of course Dorian's evening got worse with the presence of Jean, he didn't like how comfortable the Orlesian Prince had gotten with his daughter. He wasn't stupid and had seen a good number of letters pass through Skyhold with his seal addressed to his only child. Khrys still seemed to be unbothered by all this and that only irked him more. She should be just as suspicious or uncomfortable with this as he was. He didn't trust the Chevalier and never would.
Everyone 'ooed' and 'ahhed' over Bree and Jean on the dance floor, 'they made a lovely couple' was said so many times Dorian thought his head would explode. He didn't like it, but the smile he saw on his daughter's face while talking to Jean almost made him crumble. He still didn't like it…Bree was not for an Orlesian Prince…she was too good for an Orlesian.
Duncan got to lead off the inaugural tilt against Ser Constantine, one of Starkhaven's knights. Constantine was a fine man and a fine knight so to put him against Duncan turned out to be an excellent match. Duncan was inexperienced but he had a natural talent and proved to be a challenge for Constantine. At tournaments the idea of royals competing made most everyone nervous, there were always mages on hand to heal drastic injuries but the agreement was generally the same: If a royal was to compete they were to be treated as any other. Those who intentionally set out to hurt them received a severe and very permanent punishment. Anyone could bow out or even let them win but that was considered to be poor taste and a quick way to get on someone's bad side.
The young Prince came away from the match the victor, his first lance was shaky but his form was extremely precise if not inexperienced. The more he actually did the better he got and that was displayed during the match with Constantine but his opponents would only get tougher as the day wore on.
Jean secured the buckles on his bracers as he chuckled at something squire Philippe said. Philippe was the same age as he and had grown up with the Prince. He was the son of Gaspard's horsemaster and when it came time for Jean to have a squire he gave the position to Philippe. For the most part every one of the competitors got along. They all knew each other, and of course, the Orlesian's treated Jean almost too well. When they were competing they treated him like any other, if they took it easy on him or threw the match they knew Jean would eat them alive.
"Hey," Bree called drawing Jean's attention.
Jean smiled, surprised to see her but happy all the same. "Bree…what are you doing down here?" he asked and he stepped toward her. He didn't see very many noble ladies in the stables, they were too afraid they'd get their dresses dirty. He liked the girls who liked to get their hands dirty.
"Come to wish you luck," she replied with a smile.
Jean's smile could be seen under his mask, it was good to see her again, her bright, chipper smile made him smile. Her last letter made him think that she wasn't coming but he'd hoped she would. "I'm glad you decided to come," he told her that the night before while they were dancing but it was worth saying again.
She giggled blushing and shrugged. "How could I not after that last letter," she said with a smirking grin and Jean tinged pink, blushing. His last letter was nearly begging her to come but hidden tactfully in Orlesian fluff.
Jean changed the subject as he finally got the blushing under control. "I don't think your father approves of me."
Bree cackled, anyone could see that, his evil eye was hard to miss the night before but fortunately he was tempered by just about everyone. People wanted to chat with him, Balian drew the majority of his attention, and she was certain her mom ran as much interference as she could. "Nah, don't worry about him, he's just a little miffed about what happened with Bull and Balian…he'll get over it."
Jean wasn't convinced that Dorian would just 'get over it'; he compared him to himself and his father if someone had come to call on Charlotte. He snorted shaking his head as she moved toward the big roan horse that was decked out in Jean's chevalier armor.
"I wouldn't step too close," he warned. "He's not the friendliest horse."
Bree looked from Jean to the horse and gave the roan stallion with pinned ears a curious look. "What's his name?"
"Mauvais Cheval."
Bree blinked thinking about her Orlesian. "Bad Horse?" she questioned certain that she had the translation wrong.
Jean chuckled and nodded. "Mau for short…he's a bit of a monster."
Bree liked horses with spirit, that's why she liked Skye. "Aww…he's sweet," she smiled as the roan's ears were fixed back almost like he knew they were talking about him.
Jean knew better, he'd had Mau for years and it wasn't always a harmonious relationship. "No, not really," he laughed and she chuckled as well. "When you're trained as a chevalier you're allowed to pick a horse from the ones they've trained. No one wanted him on account of his poor attitude."
She laughed put a hand on the roan's shoulder, the horse's response to the invasion of his personal space was nothing more than pinned ears and a raise of the head. Philippe interrupted them and spoke quickly to Jean in Orlesian and he gave him a sharp nod.
Jean returned his attention to Bree. "Time to go," he told her.
Bree stepped closer to the tall Orlesian Prince rising up as far as she could on her tip toes to kiss him on his cheek. When Jean figured out what she was doing he leaned down slightly to help the height gap. Her kiss to his left cheek was light and sweet and he really hadn't expected it. "Good luck," she said lowering herself back down to flat feet.
Jean praised his mask…it hid the majority of his blushing. The 19 year old heir of Orlais was blushing after being kissed by the girl he liked. He swallowed hard as she stepped away from him, she needed to return to her seat and he needed to get to the lists. He turned toward one of his guards and said a few words while he gestured to Bree. Her Orlesian wasn't bad Michel was an excellent teacher but she still wasn't proficient thought got the basic principle of what he said 'escort the Lady back to her seat'. She was supposed to have an escort anyway, Malcolm, but she'd ditched him hours ago.
Going back to her seat with an Orlesian escort did not please Dorian in the slightest; he dismissed the soldier bearing the seal of de Chalons and cocked his head. "Orlesian escorts now?" Dorian asked sounding irritated.
Bree gave him a look, growing annoyed with his over protectiveness. "Dad, come on-…" she began but he cut her off.
"Where have you been?" he demanded, he had a hunch where she had been but it didn't make him feel much better.
She didn't lie, she'd learned long ago that it was damn near impossible to lie to him. Not that she couldn't do it…he just always saw right through it. "I went to wish Jean good luck," she answered and Dorian didn't like that answer.
"Gabriella," Dorian began sternly.
She grumbled and interjected before the rest of his lecture could come. "Dad, what is the problem? I like him," she asked as the teenager in her grew more and more frustrated with her father's behavior.
He held up a finger to silence her. "We are not talking about this now, Gabriella; we will talk about this later," Dorian responded and she glowered at him. "You are not to see him again. Go sit down," he added pointing to the stands.
"Dad!" she exclaimed loudly, she didn't understand. Jean had been nothing but kind since the day she met him.
"Now, Gabriella," he barked in his father tone.
"Hey," Khrys hissed at them as they had apparently gotten noisy enough to draw her attention. "What is going on?"
Bree beat her father to the explanation and it was that of a defiant teenager. "Dad is apparently angry that I went to wish Prince Jean-Fredric good luck," her tone was rude and disrespectful and Dorian glared at her.
"Mind your tone, Child," he warned firmly and his daughter grudgingly fell silent.
Khrys could understand Dorian reasons but she also understood her teenage daughter. "Gabriella, go sit down," she instructed and Bree did as she was told leaving her parents to talk alone. "And you…" she began stepping closer to Dorian, "you need to calm down, this is not the time or place to argue with her about this." Dorian wasn't the only one who'd seen the letters pouring into Skyhold between the two of them.
Dorian's frustration with her casual attitude toward their daughters' potential love life got the better of him. "Well, when is it a good time, Khrystabel? When they've absconded together?"
"Not here, Dorian, you've already had enough personal things drug through the mud so far do you really want to add our daughter to that pile?" she replied her tone quiet but just a forceful as his was. Dorian's scowl was one for the books but she ignored it. "I promise when we get back to Skyhold we will talk about this."
He wasn't pleased but it was enough to sate him, he was making a scene and while the pampered noble in him missed the ability to make a scene and get away with it he also understood what it meant to maintain a level of decorum. In Tevinter he could raise all the hell he wanted same with Skyhold but it would damage the Inquisitions, more specifically Khrys' reputation, if he flew off the handle here.
Jean was to joust next against a Free Marcher knight from Tantervale; Bree missed his name because she was more interested in the handsome Orlesian Prince. His Orlesian armor gleamed in the sun and Mau was adorned with formal Chevalier armor. He trotted Mau up to pay his respects to the host and nodded to him, he also respectfully acknowledged his opponent before turning his attention to Bree.
"My Lady Bree," Jean began moving his horse toward her seated position, "it would honor me if I could wear your favor and be your champion."
Bree felt giddy and blushed like a school girl and happily removed the thin royal blue shawl she wore rising to her feet to give it to him. She beckoned for the chevalier to come closer and he cued Mau to side pass up to her, waving his hand away she leaned forward over the railing tying the fabric to his right upper arm. She could feel the glare from her father on her back as she secured the shawl onto her champions' arm.
Dorian's irritation for the Prince soared to new heights and Bree was not helping. They had been spending way too much time together, he never read the letters that streamed through Skyhold addressed to her bearing his seal but there were so many of them. He didn't like the idea of his daughter marrying anyone but least of all an Orlesian. Bree was defiant, a quality that Dorian and Khrys spent time pointing fingers at each other for blame, and wasn't going to give in simply because her father didn't like her suitor.
Jean was a master at the joust despite his age, he was young compared to most of the other knights present and his prowess was apparent as he handedly defeated everyone who came against him. He was taking a few minutes to adjust his armor, rest Mau, and take a few minutes for himself before the next match.
Dorian wandered down to the lists and found Jean quietly tending to his horse. He could have sworn he was looking at Gaspard as the mask made them nearly identical. Jean was the same height and build as his father, same manner, and the same irritating charming confidence.
Jean had expected Dorian to pay him a visit at some point, if he wasn't comfortable with the growing relationship between him and his daughter then he was actually surprised Dorian hadn't shown up sooner. "Lord Dorian," Jean greeted giving him a nod, "what brings you here?"
Dorian barely acknowledged the monarch but maintained a degree of respect simply because of his title. "I see you have been spending a lot of time with my daughter," he stated and Jean turned his full attention to him, he knew Dorian didn't approve of him and was automatically suspicious of his presence.
"She is a lovely girl, My Lord, you should be proud," he replied and Dorian found that he bristled to the compliment. His words were true, his daughter was lovely and a delight to be around but he wanted anyone but that damned Orlesian Prince as a suitor for her.
Dorian thought briefly about how he wanted to respond to that and he chose blunt. "She is not for you…stay away from her," he said sharply and Jean blinked in surprise.
"Umm…" he began not sure why he was being warned away, he'd done nothing to Dorian and Khrys but be a perfect gentleman. "Have I done something to offend you, Lord Dorian?"
Not personally, no, the only thing offense toward Dorian was pursuing his child. "Not at all, Majesty, I don't trust you or your kind."
Jean went on the defensive. "My kind?" Jean asked with a slight hiss in his voice.
"Orlesians. More specifically Chevaliers," he answered still being uncharacteristically blunt.
Jean's postured straightened, being a Chevalier was something he was immensely proud of, he worked hard for it, embraced it, and to his duty and oath seriously. He also knew that the organization had as tarnished a reputation as it could have had especially in Fereldan. "I'm sorry, My Lord, I don't follow," he said trying his best to keep his tone respectful toward a man who was building up to insulting him.
"Chevaliers use their rank to do as they please with anyone they please including lovely young girls."
Jean's jaw set as he burned at the insinuation. "I beg your pardon, Lord Dorian, I have never touched a woman without her permission and I resent your insinuation that I have dishonorable intentions toward Gabriella," he snapped his tone harsh and firm.
Dorian appreciated seeing the aggression from him when prodded but his position remained, he didn't want Bree used as a pawn in the Great Game. "Chevaliers talk of honor but use their position to take whatever they want and whoever they want and face no repercussions."
Jean resisted the urge to do something rash and remained still against his better judgement. "And how is Tevinter any different?" Jean rebutted his tone a snarl now. He knew some Chevaliers were despicable and that was something he intended to change with his ascension to the throne of Orlais, "Magisters who use their position and power to beat and rape slaves; force them to do unspeakable acts to further their own agenda. At least Chevaliers have the decency to protect their people rather than use them for a blood ritual."
Dorian wasn't saying Tevinter was any better, he knew his countrymen committed atrocities that would make the vilest person blush, but what amused him was Jean's last statement. "Carrick," he stated and Jean's expression fell noticeably even under the mask. It was the same reason that he gave Michel a little more lip than he deserved. "I see you've heard of it…the Inquisition responded to the request for aid, when we got there we found what was left of the village, I found a girl no more than 16 beaten in a haystack…she clung to me scared and crying and told me she'd been set upon by three Chevaliers who were supposed to protect the town from the rebels not add to them." Jean knew this story it was five years ago. "We took it to your father, told him what happened, the girl was even brave enough to identify her attackers, do you know what your father did?" Jean did but that was a rhetorical question since Dorian was actually grandstanding right now. "Demoted…but they all remained Chevaliers, not one apology, one cent, or any reparation were paid to that poor girl or the village. I will never trust a Chevalier or a de Chalons with my daughters hand in marriage."
Jean took an aggressive step toward him but Dorian remained still. "How dare you question my honor!" He snarled loudly. "Do not assume I condone the actions of my brothers simply because I am a Chevalier just as I don't assume you are a ruthless blood mage simply because you are a Tevinter Magister."
The Prince made a good point but Dorian didn't care about that. "Stay away from my daughter; I will not say it again," Dorian turned and walked away from him leaving Jean to fume quietly. He could be killed for his threatening manner toward the Prince of Orlais but brushed it off. What he saw at Carrick, that poor girl clinging to him for help destroyed his respect for Chevaliers and Gaspard's 'punishment' ruined Orlais for him.
Jean's fury burned through him like a blacksmith's forge. He was so sick of being questioned about his honor, he understood Dorian was protecting his daughter but he'd never given Dorian any reason to suspect his intentions were anything other than honorable. He didn't appreciate being painted with the same brush as the less honorable Chevaliers. Mau felt his frustration and the warhorse began to prance and fidget under him.
"Lance!" he barked at his squire and Mau began to dance even more in anticipation of what was next. His opponent he could see on the other end, the flashy grey Courser of Prince Duncan Theirin; he had nothing against the Fereldan Prince…he was just the unlucky bastard who got to receive Jean's redirected ire.
Jean's focused narrowed and he slammed his spurs into the red roan under him causing the stallion to rear and launch forward in bounding strides. That was uncharacteristic of Jean as Mau didn't need that harsh of encouragement. The stallion settled as Jean focused and stilled in the saddle watching Duncan and Raider bounding toward them as well. Duncan's jousting technique was nearly perfect, the only flaws he had were minor, and a product of being young and inexperienced with an inexperienced mount. The stallion was young and seemed to draw Duncan's focus to compensate for him. It wasn't something Jean could use now but someone down the line could. Jean was focused on where he wanted his lance to go, the only thing that remained was his anger and technique.
The two Princes met as close to the middle as they could and Jean's lance hit Duncan's chest with all the might the Orlesian could muster.
Duncan felt as if he'd been hit by an anvil square in the chest and the Fereldan Prince was ejected from his saddle, he came off on the railing side to his left sliding across the top of it feet first at Raider's speed before tumbling off over the edge landing face first in the dirt on the opposite side. He hit the ground with a loud grunt, his face hitting the earth so hard he tasted blood filling his mouth. He couldn't breath and pain reverberated through his body. Thankfully, the armor had absorbed most of both impacts but he still didn't feel very good.
The crowd gasped and murmured as the crown prince of Fereldan fell from such a savage strike. Jean got Mau slowed down then turned the warhorse in a bouncy pirouette noticing that he'd unhorsed his opponent and pointedly glared at the stands to Dorian. With a triumphant roar he rattled the remains of the broken lance. "Chevalier!" he shouted loudly and the Orlesian's in the crowd roared louder with their Prince. Realizing his pointed statement at Dorian riled his people he gave them what they wanted. "Chevaliers!" he roared again rattling the lance again before throwing it to the side. His fellow chevaliers, honored by the Prince's recognition of them cheered him on. The Orlesian's in the crowd were proud of their knights despite the order's tarnished reputation.
Jean then turned his attention to Duncan's slow moving body and kicked Mau into a canter to reach him as Duncan's squires barreled toward him at a sprint.
Duncan figured out how to breathe again and rose slowly to his hands and knees flipping the visor up so he could spit the blood out of his mouth. He heard a horse approach and saw the roan feet of Mau as Jean expressed his concern. "Are you alright, Duncan?"
Duncan growled at the question hearing the Chevalier dismount. "Fuck you," he spat harshly and Jean simply chuckled. If Jean wanted to hurt him he would have aimed for his head not his chest. His squires reached him as Jean helped him to his feet but felt the young man shove him away clearly irritated with being unhorsed. Duncan grimaced as he righted himself, oh the bruises he was going to have, armor or not, that was one of those hits that just stuck. He pushed past his squire and slowly headed toward Raider being led up by someone else. Mau pinned his ears at Duncan passing too close to him. "Back off, you bloody Monster," he hissed at the ill-tempered roan.
Jean gave an airy chuckle in response to Duncan's words to his horse. "Well done, Prince Jean-Fredric," he heard Sebastian say from the dais.
Jean collected his horse and mounted as Duncan managed to do the same but with an audible groan. The younger Prince moved up next to him and faced their host as they both nodded at him.
Jean acknowledged the praise from Sebastian but said nothing to him and moved to Bree's seated position sidling Mau up next to the railing flipping the visor of his helmet up revealing a little more of his face to her. He smiled at Bree giving her a respectful bow, he still wore her favor and she tingled and blushed. Dorian's glare narrowed and he huffed at the Orlesian blatantly ignoring his warning from earlier. "I'll win this in your name, My Lady," he promised confidently and she blushed even more. Her blushing grin was all he needed and he looked up to meet the glare from Dorian and then looked at Khrys. "Lady Inquisitor. Lord Dorian," he acknowledged before cueing Mau into a canter away from them so he could prepare for his next match.
Khrys wasn't the only one who could see that Jean's savage strike on his opponent was a message. Declaring his intention to win this in Bree's name was a clear indication there was a feud between the Prince and Dorian. "What did you do?" she asked to Dorian and he sighed heavily. He had to commend the Prince on his showmanship and his obvious determination.
The rest of the tournament was ruled by Jean, he was determined to win this tournament to stick it to Dorian and for the woman he intended to court. Opponent after opponent fell to him in decisive victories with Bree's favor displayed proudly on his right arm. He intended to keep his word. The final joust was between the Orlesian Prince and the reigning tournament champion Thom Rainier. Thom spent years being despised after the truth of his identity came out and his past indiscretions. He paid his dues for the people he wronged and the organization he 'disgraced' and began embracing the fact that people didn't like him, the victory was sweeter. Now, he didn't care of people's opinion, he was a Captain in the Inquisition and one of the best knights in the land. He served the Inquisition proudly and would continue doing so until he died or was dismissed by Khrys.
The match was brutal, Jean and Thom were evenly matched, and lance after lance only served to reinforced that. This wasn't the first time they'd jousted together, in Amaranthine Thom had eliminated Jean before they'd gotten to the final tilt. The lance had glanced up on his chest following the contour of the armor and hit him in the jaw; nearly knocked him cold but he managed to say on. There was no lasting damage beyond a very tender left jaw but he felt the hit for about three weeks.
The first lance went to Thom, he hit Jean dead center in the chest with a powerful blow shattering and sending pieces hurting through the air. If Jean and been a lesser horseman he would have been unseated.
The second lance went to Jean, he hit him lower under the ribcage aiming to unhorse him but it didn't work, Thom must have been stitched into Dragon's saddle and it left the Orlesian cursing. It earned him a point, however, as Thom missed rendering his lance unbroken.
The third lance didn't help decide the victory, they both scored a hit and the match was officially a draw. What Starkhaven was witnessing was a very good match between two very good competitors and Sebastian gave them the opportunity to settle it in a tie breaker round. So now it was a second match, they were tired and already feeling the soreness from the repeated punishment all day.
The first lance of the second round went to Jean but it had an unintended side effect, a shard of his broken lance imbedded into the muscle of Dragon's neck. He didn't want to win that way. He wanted to beat Thom fairly not cause him to withdraw because he accidently wounded his mount. Thom didn't withdraw and after a few extra minutes he returned with Broiny's horse, Rosie, a stocky bay Forder Jean had seen earlier when he eliminated the Inquisition Captain.
The second lance was ugly but it counted toward for Thom. He hit Jean in the left hip and seemed to have lost the grip on the lance right before the impact which dropped it down too low; Thom was clearly showing signs of fatigue and had made an error. Jean growled through the pain as he felt it in his hip, up his back and down his leg. He was going to feel that one for a while, luckily the lance hit him and not Mau; it could have tripped him, broken something, or even punctured him. He'd seen Thom joust many times and even had gone against him; he never resorted to dirty tricks like that. It was a competition not actual combat. He saw the error, it wasn't intentional, just as his splinter hitting Dragon wasn't intentional, but that didn't mean he wasn't pissed about it. He waited on his side for lance bits to be cleaned up and for everyone to ensure they were ready. He growled through his teeth and took his left foot out of the stirrup only to realize that was grievous mistake as pain burned up and down his leg when he stretched it out. His hip hurt a lot but he was still able to grip Mau with his leg so it couldn't have been too bad. He thanked the Maker for the face shield since no one could see him grimacing behind it.
Jean set up for the last lance, he needed to either unhorse him or kill him to actually win this but that was easier said than done. Again, they both scored an equal hit right to the chest and Jean cursed and was certain Thom was as well, they were too evenly matched. It's true, they could have continued until someone made a serious mistake but that wasn't necessary. They were even and they knew it. On the way back to their sides they stopped in the middle. Jean was honest with himself, he barely stayed on Mau for that last joust but he hid the pain when he spoke to Thom.
"Are you alright, Prince?" Thom asked and Jean nodded to him.
"Yeah," he replied.
"I apologize for that hit, I hadn't intended that," he told him and Jean nodded in acknowledgement.
"Neither did I," they didn't need to be specific; they knew what the other was referring to. "Draw?" he asked moving up to Thom's right and extending his right hand to him.
Thom agreed, he could figure a way to beat him but it would take a little more time and would probably result in someone getting unnecessarily hurt. He clasped his arm up to his elbow firmly with a nod. "Draw," he agreed. "You're a fine Knight, Prince."
"You also, Captain," Jean returned in kind and he meant it. He didn't want a draw but it was clear there was not going to a winner in this. The people would just have to settle for a draw. Jean's eyes went to Bree. He was disappointed in himself for not living up to what he'd promised, he hadn't won this for her and that bothered him.
The match was declared a draw, no clear winner between the two, making this the only joust in recent memory to end in a draw. Jean made his way back to the stables while his leg was burning like someone lit it on fire. Dismounting was just plain uncomfortable, even in his full armor Jean could manipulate himself to mount and dismount without much difficulty but that was not the case today. This time he actually needed Philippe to assist him, healers came and looked and deduced that his hip wasn't broken it was just very tender. Jean refused the offer for mage healers and limped around to work out the pain.
The final evening party was much like the previous two, Jean didn't like parties…he took every opportunity he could to leave court so he didn't have to deal with them. His father did the same thing, he hated the game also but since he was forced to play he did it anyway. Jean preferred being out with his men and soldiers, training with the chevaliers, leading armies. The only thing he liked about being here was the fact that Bree was there.
He did his best to hide his tender movements and had respectfully declined any offer for a dance, even for Bree he'd bow out of dance tonight. He saw her from across the room; Bree was the most beautiful thing in Starkhaven. Her dress was royal blue and trimmed with black, Jean deduced that blue must be her favorite color. The shawl given to him as her favor was of the same color. Bree looked like her mother, most people compared her to her father but aside from her manner and her hair he saw more of her mother.
He made his way toward her, interrupting her conversation with Duncan and Lady Meghan. "My Lady Bree," he said respectfully and noticed that he'd drawn Dorian's attention, "may I speak with you?"
"No," Dorian answered only to be swatted by Khrys as a warning to stop being rude.
Jean spared a brief look to Dorian since he knew he was actively defying her father's warning. Bree also ignored the stern word of her father and gave him her bright smile. "Of course," she said and took the arm her offered to her.
He was still limping on the right leg but in the name of pride and ego he did his very best to hide it and walk normally. "Are you alright?" she asked and he looked down at her with a smile and a nod.
"Yes," he said through what sounded like embarrassment, he was a Prince, a military commander, a seasoned Knight, he was supposed to be invincible but he definitely wasn't. "I will apologize…I did not win the tournament in your name."
"Thom is a tough competitor," she smiled. "He's taught most of us in Skyhold how to ride and fight."
Jean stopped walking and turned to face her presenting her with the neatly folded shawl. "I believe I should return this…it was an honor to fight in your name."
Bree took it and smiled at him blushing constantly. Whenever she was with him she couldn't help but blush. She unfolded the shawl and draped it round his neck. "Then keep it…and continue to do so."
Jean let a smile slowly spread across his face and gave her a slight bow. "As you wish, ma bichette."
Bree's heart raced, Jean was charming and charismatic. She'd heard of Orlesian nobleman in their bluster and their sickening charm but Jean's wasn't a play…his affection for her seemed genuine. "Jean, can I ask you something?" she asked and he gave her a nod.
"Of course," He replied.
It was an odd question but it was probably the most asked question for any Orlesian nobleman. "Can I see under your mask?" she asked not sure how exactly to ask that question.
Jean straightened and his pause made her think that she'd overstepped a bound. "Do you know why we wear these, ma bichette?" he asked, apparently he had chosen a pet name for her and it made her giddy.
"Public face versus private face," she answered and he nodded at her very simple answer.
"Simple but accurate," he said and she began to apologize before he raised his hand to stop her. "It's alright…nothing would make me happier than to show you my true face but I feel that now is not quite the time for that," he answered hoping that refusing to let her see him wouldn't anger her. Bree wasn't angry, a little disappointed but this was Orlesian culture and she understood that. "Rest assured that if you still wish you will see," he could see the watchful stare of Dorian's and gave a light snort. "Now, your father's glare is making me uncomfortable so I will excuse myself," he said and to his surprise she was chuckling as he took her right hand and kissed the back of it. "You look lovely this evening, My Lady Bree," he complimented in as sincere and honest a tone as he could and released her hand and walked away from her. He didn't want to create more tension between himself and her father; he intended to court Bree properly and to do that he needed to show Dorian that he wasn't the monster the mage thought he was.
