NationStates Jolt Archive

The building was old. Its history dated back several monarchs, and it had managed to survive many events that had befallen the capital from wars to earthquakes and everything else that nature and humans could throw at it. It stood like an old gentleman in the heart of old town in Erebus, of course that had not been the name of the city when it was first constructed, but despite the land around it changing, the building itself had changed little and neither had its purpose.

There was no name visible on the building, or any indication of its reason for being. From the outside it looked nothing more than any other old building, with fine carvings and good architecture. Most people walking past hardly noticed it or gave it little thought, other than to admire the lines of the building or point out one of the people carved into the masonry. They lived their lives oblivious to it and its role.

But to some, it was the heart of their existence. It was their sanctuary, away from the vigour of life and family. For the building was the home to a very exclusive gentlemen’s club, commissioned by the Emperor Scelerate as a place away from the twittering of woman in his Court. And over the centuries no woman has set foot on the hallowed ground of men.

Inside, the building was split in many rooms, accommodating most of a man’s needs. From gaming to relaxation, and a place to rest a drunken head unable to make it back to its rightful room. The décor was of the finest quality, the walls lined with famed members in its history, next to portraits of rulers, for all men were equal within these walls. Where a Baron could address an Emperor as an equal, yet always there was a mark of respect that would never be crossed. The nobility were not fools after all, and an Emperor had a memory that would last longer than his visit.

In the reading room, which was where most of the men sat and chatted over a glass of port or brandy, and caught up with the latest news from one of the many newspapers placed around the room, two men sat on huge leather chairs, high backed so that with the aid of a strategically held broadsheet, the occupant could go unrecognised and undisturbed, such was the silent traditions of the place.

“…I’m just waiting for this to blow out of proportion.” The older of the two men frowned heavily, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his glass of brandy cupped in his hand. “The man is getting too comfortable in the position she is letting him take. Damn the man.”

Lord Val Stratton shook his head, and released a long drawn out sigh. “Damien, you spend far too much time dwelling on this subject. If you are hear only to discuss Lord Daniels, then I wish you would find another listener, because frankly, I am more than a little tired of having this conversation.”

The look that Lord Nefarious gave his brother did not hide his feelings at all, the anger flare. “So be it.” He slugged back his brandy, and rose from his seat, and stormed off towards the door, which was opened by a doorman at his approach. As he walked through, he almost collided with a man coming in the other way. Without a word of apology, Damien disappeared out of sight.

Rising from his seat, Lord Stratton moved over to the door, and looked at the newcomer, not recognising him at all. But the club allowed new members with the right introduction or title. “Sir, I apologise for the behaviour of my fellow member. Let me get you a brandy as way of apology. I would not like you to think that all those that reside here are so impolite.” He paused for a moment, not making a formal introduction, as many came into the club for privacy, so he waited for the man’s reply before continuing.

The man, a striking young noble with red hair and bold features, smiled politely at Lord Stratton. "I would be most obliged, sir, though I would not worry over much. If a little accidental bump is the worst a day holds, it is a lucky day." He spoke with a strong Danaan accent.

The visiting noble, clad in green and gold, extended a hand. "It is good to be here. My name is Owain, Duke of Tasat. I'm here visiting from the Resurgent Dream."

Lord Stratton shook the man’s hand and smiled. “Welcome to Tartarus, Your Grace. It is always a pleasure to see new faces in the Old Empire. I hope that you are enjoying your stay.” He paused for a moment, almost forgetting his manners. “I am Lord Val Stratton.” As he introduced himself he moved his arm to indicate the chairs that he and his brother had just vacated. “Shall we?”

He made his way over to the seat, and lowered himself down onto the expensive leather. As his companion was settling himself, Stratton raised his hand, and moments later he was faced with one of the morning suited waiters. “We’ll have two brandies here, Hodgkins.” The man nodded and with a ‘of course, sir’ he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

Turning his attention back to newcomer, Val relaxed in his chair, reclining slightly. “If I may be so bold as to ask, Your Grace, what brings you to Tartarus?” He frowned slightly trying to recall mention of anyone having a visiting noble to reside with them, but came up a blank. “Are you here for the shooting or merely playing the tourist?”

"It is a pleasure to be here." Owain said and meant it. Despite a certain affinity for the naming conventions of the classical underworld, he had thus far found the people and the land of Tartarus quite pleasant. He sat when Stratton made the offer. "We certainly shall, m'lord."

Owain glanced at Hodgkins with a light smile, though he said nothing to the servant. He seemed to be thoughtful for a brief moment.

"I'm merely playing the tourist." Owain commented. "It's like to be the first of many such trips over the next several years. My mother insists, you see? She maintains, and so far seems to have been right in doing so, that there is no greater influence in favor of culture and understanding in nobleman than travel and experience. She meant me to go years ago but I could hardly leave her right after my father passed away." Owain shook his head. "Not that we should speak of such things. I am actually staying at a rather nice local hotel. I have just arrived and have yet to meet anyone."

Lord Stratton laughed. “Ah, the Grand Tour.” He nodded his head as he let his mind dwell momentarily on images from his past. “Yes, very fond memories I have of my own. Fortunately I managed to complete it before my parents were killed.” He frowned, as other thoughts entered his mind, memories of a different kind spanning back even further.

“I am not the best of hosts in the city I am sure, but I would be honoured to introduce you to the well-to-do of Tartarus, and possibly a few that we have a few doubts about.” He chuckled to himself, stopping as Hodgkins approached with the brandies upon a silver tray. He placed a glass on each of the tables beside their chairs. “On my tab, Hodgkins.” The man nodded and gave a quiet ‘Very good, Sir’, before once more disappearing into the background.

Val picked up his glass, swirled the golden brown liquid around the bowl, and took a sip. “Ah, the finest Tartarian Brandy.” He turned his attention focused back on his previous topic of conversation. “There are always plenty of events in town at this time of year, even the odd weekend party out in the sticks.” He pondered for a moment. “Definitely a place for you to see the Tartarian Nobility in full swing, should you wish to, of course.”

Owain nodded graciously. "I would be greatly honored at the introductions, sir. I had certainly hoped to meet as many of the local notables as possible while here. You are, it seems, an answer to such hopes."

He sipped his brandy as it arrived. He wasn't just drinking it, he was savoring the drink and considering the taste. It was his first time in Tartarus and he fully intended to experience everything this land had to offer.

"Excellent...quite excellent." he commented off handedly. "Thank you, sir." Owain set his drink down. "So when might be the next such gathering?"

“Our meeting is almost fated.” Val grinned, nodding his head as he decided that the occasion would be suitable. He knew that he would be able to get another invite, he was family after all. Giving the idea a little more thought, knowing that he barely knew the man, but he had a good feeling about him, and he knew the Club did not just let anyone through its hallowed doors.

“This weekend, Friday until Monday.” He looked over at the man sitting opposite him and pulled out a notebook from his inside jacket pocket. “I’ll get an invitation sent to your hotel, if you give me your suite number.” He took down the information and put his book away. “Quite a large crowd, family mostly and friends, although not one of the biggest you’ll ever go too.” He picked up his glass and took another sip. “But it should get you invites to some of the most exclusive events around Erebus.”

Owain nodded. "Thank you very much. You've been more than kind to a visiting stranger."

He smiled dashingly. "I'm staying at the Imperial Hotel, Suite 807."

Owain took another drink. "It does sound like Erebus has a rather lively social season. To be completely honest, things were much slower back home. We live on what can only be described as a rather quiet country estate and visits to town are much further between than I would wish."

“To be honest, I’ve never met anyone from the Resurgent Dream before, so you could say I have been broadening my horizons.” Lord Stratton smiled, as he picked a bit of lint from his suit jacket. “And a little common courtesy goes a long way. In here, no one is a stranger, yet at the same time you need never know another’s name the whole time you are here.”

He looked at the ornate clock sitting on the mantelpiece above a blazing fire, despite the glorious sunshine and heat outside. “I hate to run out on you so soon, but I hope to gain more opportunities to question you about The Resurgent Dream during the weekend party.” He picked up his glass and downed the rest of the contents in one go. “I will send your invitation to the Imperial, and inform Lord Devenish that he has another guest to accommodate.”

Placing his glass on the table, he rose from the chair and offered his hand to Owain. “Until Friday.” He turned to the once more present Hodgkins. “Ensure that the Duke of Tasat has all that he requires, on me.” He watched the man nod his head, and take a step back out of the way, but close enough to be available to His Grace.

With a polite nod of his head, Lord Stratton headed for the door, which was opened for him as he approached. He left the club feeling more than a little pleased with himself, and intrigued about the new arrival in Tartarus.

Owain nodded. "Unfortunately,there has been very little contact between our countries, mostly limited to the Danaan Consulate on Unity Island. I am, of course, glad to tell you anything you would know of my homeland."

Owain smiled as the man took his leave. "I will be at your disposal, of course. Hopefully, we might both broaden our horizons substantially."

Owain shook hands with Lord Stratton. "Until Friday. Do take care." As the man left, Owain sat back and sipped his drink, pondering the upcoming party on Friday.

Owain remained in the club for another hour or so, quietly relaxing. He ordered one more drink but didn't indulge himself greatly. He then returned to his hotel to await his invitation.

Making good his word, the following morning an invitation was delivered at the Imperial Hotel, addressed to the Duke of Tasat. The gold embossed writing giving the time and place of the party. Along with it was a handwritten note from Lord Stratton himself, offering to accompany the young man to the house of the Devenish’s. The Duchess of Lorm, nee Princess Lavinia of Tartarus, was the hostess, and it was her seal that appeared on the envelope inviting the relative stranger to join in the festivities, being welcomed into the finest circles of Tartarus.

It was at eleven o’clock on Friday morning that Lord Stratton’s car pulled up outside the main entrance of the Imperial Hotel. One of the doormen pulled open the door to allow him out of the vehicle, while one of the valet’s drove the car into one of the short stay parking spaces. Whistling as he walked, Val entered the luxurious lobby of one of the best hotels in Erebus, and made his way over to the reception desk, where he addressed the young woman working behind.

“Would you call Suite 807, and inform the Duke of Tasat that I am here.” He did not have to give his name to the woman behind the counter, as she recognised him instantly. Within minutes she was on the phone, giving Lord Stratton’s message to the guest in question.

It was only five minutes later, that Val was standing outside the door of the Suite, knocking it confidently as he waited for Owain to answer.

Owain smiled at the invitation. Being a duke, he wasn't exactly surprised to have found himself in high society so quickly, although he did gather that noble titles were somewhat rarer and correspondingly more prestitious in Tartarus. Nonetheless, he was rather happy with the progress he was making, especially as the possibility now seemed open of young noblewomen to flirt with.

Owain answered the phone, listening to the message. "Thank you, miss...?"

The duke dressed quickly, opening the door at Val's knock. He was dressed in gold and green finery, smiling broadly. "Thank you again, Your Lordship." he commented as he walked with the man towards his car. "Perhaps you could tell me a little about Her Grace before we arrive. I would hardly wish to seem an ignorant guest, after all."

Climbing into the car, and waiting as his companion got settled, Val pondered the question and smiled. “Well, Aunt Lavinia is the second sister of the late Emperor, and…” He frowned, as he tried to place her in the line of succession, but gave up. “She married the Duke of Lorm and raised a family, Hugo, who always arranges these things and two daughers, Issi and Beth.”

He set the car in motion, and soon had them on one of the major roads that led from the heart of the capital to the more sedate country roads. “Nice people; Hugo is kind of a happy chap, the girls are girls, and Aunt Lavinia is a dear.” He laughed at the description. “Don’t let that put you off. The Duke can be a bit crotchety at times, but is usually a good sport, and you’ll only see him if you partake in the shooting, it’s one of his favourite pastimes.

Flicking his gaze briefly at the face of Owain, he gauged the man’s reaction before laughing. “I do them an injustice. I think I shall just let you make your own mind up about them.” He pondered for a moment, his mind whirling over some more information, before he smiled again. “Anyway, I don’t want to bore you with details. Tell me a little about yourself and your family, so that I feel we are on a level playing field, so to speak.”

Owain smiled lightly, hesitating for just a moment. "Well, by the laws of primogeniture, I am the heir of High King Thaddeus, the last king to rule the Resurgent Dream prior to the Homecoming War. Of course, it wasn't called the Resurgent Dream at the time...

"I have three younger sisters but no brothers. The oldest is just a couple years younger than I am, though the youngest has not yet reached the age of reason. My mother is a rather formal aristocrat of the old fashion, but also a charming, kind, and loving woman. She's the youngest of twelve and through her I have a great abundance of counsins, though I'm only close to one or two...

"My late father was a military man and served with distinction in the cavalry....Yes, the cavalry was still the most vital part of the service in his day. He had three brothers and one sister, though I am not particularly close to my counsins on my father's side."

Lord Stratton listened, more than a little surprised as he heard Owain describe his family. He laughed internally at himself for not doing some kind of check of the name; he had relied entirely on the man’s entry into the club. “It is even more of an honour to meet you, Your Grace.” He flicked his eyes to the mirror, and turned the car into another road. “I am surprised you are permitted to complete your visit alone, without security.” Giving Owain a quick glance he grinned briefly. “Or are you some kind of ninja type?”

Turning his attention back onto the road, he pushed down on the accelerator as they hit a clear road. “My brother will love meeting you.” He nodded his head to himself. “He is in a very similar position to yourself, at present. He is Heir to the throne, although subject to change depending on the Empress’ children or lack of.” He chuckled slightly. “A bit of a sore point with him, so you’d probably be best not to mention it to him.”

Suddenly he broke into laughter. “I hate to imagine the impression you have of my family, already.” Val flicked a glance briefly at his passenger. “Honestly, they are not as bad as I have described them. In fact, they are a very nice group of people, which you will discover for yourself once you meet them.” Except perhaps Damien, of course, but he’ll discover that himself if my brother is not trying to be charming, he thought as they continued on towards their destination.

Owain shook his head. "Sometimes, ancient lines are just historical relics, m'lord. I'm a duke, no more or less than any other. I hardly need security. My name is not that well known within my own country, much less abroad."

He laughed at the Ninja comment. "Oh, hardly a Ninja. Suicide is a sin in my religion, a mortal one, actually..." He paused a moment, smiling lightly at the implicit pun even if he wasn't quite so sacreligious as to say it out loud.

Owain nodded. "That is hardly my position, though it might apply to Grand Duchess Vicotira. I shall, of course, be discrete in the topics I venture to discuss."

Laughter. "Oh, you haven't made them out to be so bad, really. They actually sound like a rather charming group."

The rest of the journey was filled with general topics from the weather to the landscape, as they moved further from the hustle of the city and found themselves heading into the lush surrounding countryside. The road was already a lot quieter than the previous ones had been, and it was few and far between that they ran across any other traffic. Val had even managed to refrain from putting his foot in it the rest of the way, making extra careful to avoid any subject that might cause offence.

Less than an hour later, they pulled up outside some wrought iron gates, black as night and highlighted with gold emboss. The family’s coat of arms dominated the centre of the gate, parting in the middle as it swung open to allow the newcomers through. The man on the gate tipped his hat at the two men and waved them inside, recognising instantly the driver of the vehicle.

The tree lined drive focused the eye of anyone arriving on the large and historical house that resided at the end of it, looking more like a toy house from the main gate. Mortham Grange had long since outgrown its name, but tradition was important in Tartarus, so it kept its centuries old title. As it grew closer, the finer details began to show, the mishmash of architecture and the various additions that made up the whole scene. And although the house was built over many generations, it managed to portray the image that it had been designed all along to look just how it did.

As the car neared the end of its journey, a person could be seen moving out of the main door, and came down the steps to greet the new arrival. The man’s outfit matched the colour of the standard that flew from the flagpole. Stepping forward as the car stopped, the man pulled open Owain’s door, and then stepped back to allow for the young man to exit the vehicle. As he did so, Lord Stratton got out of the car, and smiled.

“Here we are, home for the next three days.” He grinned as he walked around the vehicle coming to stand beside Owain. “I know I can speak for my aunt when I tell you to make yourself at home.”

As if by mentioning her name, it made her appear, Lady Lavinia Devenish, Duchess of Lorm passed through the door, a large smile encompassing her face. “Val, how good of you to come. And you are early as usual.” She gave her nephew a kiss on the cheek and then turned her attention to Owain. “I am so glad that you could make it. It’s always nice to see new faces about the place. Please, make yourself at home during your stay.”

Val turned to Owain and grinned, but said nothing.

Owain made small talk with the best of them. He made sure to compliment the Tartaran weather and countryside, although not to an inordinate degree. He occasionally glanced out the window to see how they were coming along.

Owain's heart almost jumped into his throat at the wrought iron gates. It's just another metal to these people. Being human, Owain wasn't actually effected by going through the gates and he resumed his equilibrium within a few moments.

Owain stepped out, smiling to the servant. "Thank you." He then turned back to Val, smiling. "That sounds most relaxing."

Owain bowed to Lavinia. "You are most gracious, Your Grace." He wasn't sure whether to smile or grimace when he heard himself. He hadn't meant to make the pun and he was a bit undecided as to whether it was horrible or cute. "Your nephew has told me a good deal about you. Your hospitality does me honor."

Lady Lavinia looked at Lord Stratton and laughed lightly, as she raised her eyebrow questioningly. “Knowing Val, he’s either been singing our praises or telling you what beastly people we are. I suspect the latter.” She began up the steps, leading the two men into the main house. She paused as she walked through the door, and turned to Owain. “Your bags will be taken to your room, which we will show you to soon, but the family is taking a drink on the terrace, being as it is such a nice day.”

She headed back off down the corridor, talking as she went. “You are the first to arrive, but then knowing you were coming with Val, I really didn’t expect much else.” She chuckled to herself softly. “He never did have any patience.”

Lord Stratton laughed out loud and grinned at Owain. “It seems Aunt Lavinia is trying to blacken my good name.” He walked up to the woman and put his arm around her. “But I still love her, just the same.”

“Val, behave!” Lavinia shook her head and tried to look stern, but the twinkle in her eye gave her away. As the laughter continued to echo through the hallway from his Lordship, the party entered an anteroom and walked through that into the garden through an open French window. The sound of laughter and chatter greeted the three as they stepped out on to the terrace.

“Val!”

Almost bowled over by sudden appearance of the youngest Devenish, Lord Stratton grinned as he returned the young woman’s hug. “Elizabeth, it is a pleasure to see you.” He looked over at the table where the rest of the family were gathered. “Uncle Philip, Hugo.” He greeted both of the men seated and then looked at the young woman standing behind slightly behind them, looking over Hugo’s shoulder at something he was reading. “Marissa.”

The two men nodded their greeting and Marissa gave her cousin a smile, but there was no mistaking that their interest was taken by the other man with Val. He stepped aside and allowed Lady Lavinia to make the introductions.

“Your Grace, I would like you to meet my family.” She indicated each person as she mentioned their names. “My husband, the Duke of Lorm; my son, Lord Hugo; my eldest daughter Lady Marissa and my youngest, Lady Elizabeth.” They all muttered a brief hello as they were introduced. “And this is Lord Owain, Duke of Tasat.” She turned to him and smiled. “Please help yourself to some refreshment, there is lemonade, tea and coffee. Or if you require anything else, please just feel free to ask.”

Owain followed along, nodding to his hostess's words and listening to her interactions with Val. Owain bowed politely to the family, though his eyes rested on Marissa for slightly longer than the rest. "It is an honor to meet you all. I am a stranger in your country and you've all made me feel most at home."

He sat down and took some lemonade. Rather than introducing a new topic, he waited to see if they would resume whatever conversation had been going on when he came in.

Lady Lavinia remained alongside Owain, as the family settled back into what they were doing before their guests had arrived. She looked over her family with a proud smile then turned to the Duke of Tasat. “Would you care to take a seat, or perhaps you would like a tour of the estate?” She gave the young man a little smile, something about the young man’s reaction to Marissa had caught her eye, not that he would be the first to take more than a passing glance at her oldest daughter. She had always been referred to as the jewel in the Devenish household.

Her mother had not been the only one that had noticed the look that Owain had given her; in fact, the young woman herself had smiled a little to herself as she noticed the young man’s interest. And there was something interesting about a stranger that seemed to cause a reaction in her. It suddenly seemed that the weekend was going to be interesting, and it was always a good feeling to have someone new to flirt with, the old crowd was being to bore her.

Marissa, who had finished reading the article which had been pointed out by her brother, glanced furtively at Owain, allowing herself a quick assessment of the new arrival. Her cousin had spoke highly of the Duke, giving little more detail than that he was a nobleman from The Resurgent Dream, what else Val knew was being kept only to him and this also helped to intrigue her.

Removing her apparent interest from their guest, Marissa moved over to her cousin, who was talking to her sister about the young girl’s latest achievement on the piano. The sisters were very different to look at; Elizabeth had mousey brown hair and dull brown eyes, whereas Marissa was blessed with blonde hair and clear blue eyes.

The nineteen year old, as she moved towards the others, flicked her eyes to meet Owain’s and smiled, her actions flirtatious. With a twinkle of mischief in her eyes, which only added to her appeal, she reached her cousin and sister and began to listen to their conversation, making the odd quip with her melodic voice.

Lady Lavinia chuckled to herself, having seen her daughter treat many of the more handsome visitors to such behaviour. “I should warn you, Your Grace, I have seen quite a few taken in by her charm.” She smiled. “Consider that just a little friendly advice from her mother.” She shook her head amusedly. “Only the man who approaches with caution will actually be able to capture and keep her attention.” She left her meaning up in the air.

Owain simply watched the young woman's flirtatious movements with a pleasant smile, listening to the conversation around him. He nodded to Lavinia's words non-commitally, glancing off in thought. He then glanced around the area, half-expectant.

Talking to her cousin and her sister for a moment, Marissa took her leave from them and approached her mother and the new arrival, giving both a smile. “Mama. Your Grace.” She turned her attention fully to their guest. “Val was just telling me that you are from The Resurgent Dream.” She paused for a moment, as she let her gaze wander over Owain. “I don’t know too much about your nation, geography was never my favourite subject or one that I was particularly good at.” She laughed lightly and looked at her mother.

“Can I get you another drink, your Grace?” Lady Lavinia smiled, and moved off towards the table leaving the two young people alone, hoping that Owain was listening to her advice.

Watching as her mother walked off, Marissa looked back at Owain. “If you would like, I could show you around the house?” She smiled, graciously. “Unless you would prefer to sit and enjoy the weather that is?"

Owain nodded. "I am. More specifically, I'm from the Grand Duchy of Shieldcrest, the largest state in the Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream with 800 million citizens. In a country with roughly two billion people...a few less at the moment, I believe...and ten states to divide them among, it's a rather notable difference in size with most of the other states. The whole country is an island, neighboring the island of Akaton and lying off the West coast of Tareldanore. Would you like to hear more about it?"

"Another of the same, Your Grace." Owain answered Lavinia. He knew better than to simply hit on Marissa. The plan was to get to know her.

"I would love a tour, m'lady." Owain answered. "Though, we must await your mother's return first. It would hardly do for a gentleman to wander off while a lady was off to see so graciously to offering him such wonderful hospitality."

Marissa nodded. “I would love to hear more, you can tell me as we walk.” She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face that was tickling her skin. Her eyes flicked to her mother at Owain’s mention. “Of course we should wait for Mama to bring your drink, I would hate for us to appear rude.” She frowned slightly, as she watched her mother pour the drink, while sharing a brief word with her husband and son; the latter looked up and caught his sister’s eye, giving her a little smile.

Turning back to Owain, she once more graced him with her full attention, her eyes twinkling, enhancing her smile. “It is very good of you to accept Mama’s invitation. We normally have the same crowd here all the time.” A crease etched itself briefly on her forehead, but was gone as she heard her mother’s approach.

“Here you are, Your Grace.” Lady Lavinia smiled, her eyes flicking between the two young people. “There is nothing like a nice glass of lemonade on a day like this.” She passed the glass to Owain. “And please, call me Lavinia. All these titles get so monotonous when you have a house full of them.” As if feeling her daughter’s gaze boring into her, she turned and met Marissa’s eye.

Her daughter smiled back sweetly. “Mama, I’ve asked His Grace if he would like a tour of the house, and he has kindly accepted.” She gazed at Owain, her gracious smile back on her lips.

“That is very good of you, Marissa.” The older woman grinned and gave a sly wink to the young man, which her daughter failed to see. “There is still hope that you may turn into a good hostess one day.”

Marissa frowned, her brow creasing, before she realised her manners and smiled again. “If you are ready, Your Grace, shall we begin?”

Owain took the drink with a smile. "As you wish, Lavinia. You may also call me Owain, of course. Thank you very much for the drink."

The duke stood, proffering an arm to Marissa. "I am quite ready. What would you like to know? There is so much to be told. Of course, you must tell me about Tartarus as well. I was particularly curious about how your land came to its name."

Walking them back along the terrace, to the French window that Owain had only recently came through when he arrived, Marissa pondered the question for a moment. “What to hear about first?” She paused a little more. “Well…” The smile she gave could not have been any more charming. “Why don’t you tell me about where you live? And then you can tell me a little more about yourself. That way I will know you better, and we can then talk like old friends.”

As she spoke, she lead them through the room, without explaining what it was, assuming that her mother would have done the honours when she brought their guest through earlier.

* * * * *

Val watched as his cousin expertly guided Owain away from the group, a grin appearing on his lips. He looked over at his aunt and saw the expression on her face. Saying a few brief words to his cousin, he walked over to Lavinia, leaving to return back to the table.

“She’ll have him wrapped around her finger in no time.” Lord Stratton chuckled. “Did you warn him?”

Lavinia nodded. “If he listened to my advice, this will be one young man who does not fawn all over her and let her do whatever she wants.”

A laugh bellowed from Lord Stratton. “Speaking of fawning, is Lord Felix Hardcastle joining us today?” The two smiled at each other before returning to the table with the others.

Owian laughed slightly. "That's a rather general question, lady. I live on a country manner in Shieldcrest. It's out in the plains, fields as far as the eye can see. I have a car, of course, but I prefer to ride wherever I go."

“Riding? That’s one of my favourite pastimes,” Marissa’s voice rose slightly with interest. “There is nothing like the feel of the wind rushing through your hair, and the experience of total freedom, becoming one with the horse, as you both gallop across the open countryside, with nothing to stop you.” She looked at Owain and blushed, hiding her embarrassment behind her usual smile. “Perhaps you will get the opportunity to take a ride while you are here; we have some very nice surroundings.”

She led them into the hall, looking around wondering where the best place would be to start. The house was large, and there were many rooms that only ever seemed to get used when there was a weekend gathering. “Anyway, back to your home. Is your home like this?” She indicated around her, the historic building and its antiques bearing down on them, as many faces as one could count staring down from the portraits. “Do you have all your ancestors on your walls too?”

Owain laughed and shook his head. "Oh, no. There's a few portraits here and there. Nothing like this, however."

Marissa laughed. “They frighten me sometimes. It’s like they are watching you.” She pointed to one of a man, dressed in black, with black hair and pointy features that looked like a caricature of the evil villain in some old movie. “When I was a child, I always thought this one was going to jump out of the picture and eat me.” The nineteen year old grimaced. “Sometimes, I still think it might happen.” Her laughter returned as she led them through the hall.

Suddenly she stopped walking and looked at Owain, her eyes searching his face, a frown appearing slightly as she seemed to fail to see what she was looking for. “Are you married?” She even surprised herself with the question, which she hid expertly with another dazzling smile. She turned suddenly, and began to walk towards one of the large wooden doors that seemed to dominate the hall.

Owain nodded, examining the rather odd looking portrait she was referring to. "And who was this, exactly, my lady?"

He laughed a little at her comments. "He certainly is a rather imposing figure. The ancestral portraits I do have at my home tend to more closely resemble Arthurian knights."

Owain met her gaze evenly. Inwardly, he smiled when she asked her question. Part of him, however, was slightly worried. Feigning disinterest was all well and good but it could be taken too far. "No. I'm not married yet."

As he answered her question, the twinkle seemed to come back into her eye, her smile more genuine that it had been only moments before. “Not married yet, hmm.” She grinned mischievously. “Does that mean that there is someone special back home waiting for your return?” She knew that her questions were slightly too personal, but that had never stopped her in the past, and she had never been reprimanded for being brutally open.

Wondering briefly if he would answer, she once more returned to the previous topic, lightening the mood. “The painting is of some ancestor, who apparently never hurt a fly, and was probably one of the nicest member of the Devenish family.” She laughed heartily. “Looks can be deceiving, I guess.” She once more turned to face him, her eyes looking deep into his. “From what you know of me so far, what is your impression?”

Owain laughed lightly. "You are rather eager to know such things of me, are you not?" He shrugged. "Very well. If you must know, there is no one special waiting back home. There are a number of young ladies who my mother rather wants me to choose between but...no one has especially caught my eye...as yet."

He paused a little, considering the painting once more. "Looks can be quite deceiving. Nonetheless, they remain the first impression we get of almost everyone. Perhaps we are often deceived."

Owain just shook his head at the question. "Why, my dear lady, asking such a question outright really is cheating." He started to move on, her arm still in his, without giving an answer.

Marissa frowned, her face slightly lowered as she walked beside him, but for some reason the answer he had given about there being no one special made her smile as it returned to her thoughts. She looked up and smiled, almost as if realising everything was not lost. Still, she was a little put out that he had refused to answer her question, most found it very easy to flatter her and tell her how beautiful she was and how pleased they were that she had singled them out for attention. She had to try hard not to giggle as past experiences sprang to mind.

Turning her head, she gazed at his profile, enjoying the opportunity of grabbing a chance to look at him again. He was very handsome, which just made catching even more fun. “Oh, so you think I was cheating.” She pouted slightly, putting on her best sad eyes. “I don’t know how you could be so mean.” Suddenly the smile was back on her face and her eyes were twinkling. “But I’m sure I can forgive you.”

She led him through the double doors into the library, not that it could be anything else, as nearly every inch of wall was covered with books; old leather tomes from floor to ceiling, with moveable ladders positioned in front of them for easy reach. At one end a spiral staircase rose to the second level, which ran around three sides of the room.

“This is one of Papa’s favourite rooms, he spends hours in here.” She smiled. “I think he’s looked at every single book in here.” The feat in itself was amazing, as the number of books were countless from a glance. “If you wish to borrow something during your stay, please do.” She stopped them in the middle of the room.

Owain smiled. "Yes, it was cheating." He didn't allow himself to melt before her pout, however tempting it was.

Walking into the library, Owain ran his hands over the books, looking at them carefully. "Your father has quite an impressive collection here."

Marissa nodded and grinned. “Of course, this isn’t entirely his work. The Dukes throughout history have added to it until it became this big.” She moved over to where he was standing and pointed out some of the titles. “There are some in Tartarian and some in Standard, Papa has been careful to ensure all that are in same language are together.” She broke into a tiny burst of giggles. “I remember when one guest fell asleep in here reading one of the Standard editions, and we replaced it with the same book in Tartarian, the poor man couldn’t understand how he had read so much when he did not even speak the language.”

Her soft laughter echoed off the walls, as she moved around the library, her fingers lightly brushing over the leather bindings. She walked slowly, knowing that doing so accented her movements, her hips swaying slightly, her legs brushing against her skirt highlighting their shape. Coming to one of the columns that held up the second level, she rested her hand lightly on it, and gently swung around to look at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief and something more.

“Sometimes, I come in here to get away from everyone. There is a particular spot up on the second level, where you can sit without anyone seeing you.” She once more started to giggle. “It’s where we used to sit during parties and watch people sneak in here to be alone, when we were little of course.” She looked at him, her face the picture of innocence. “We would not do that now.”

Owain laughed a little. "Just how long did it take the man to figure out the trick?" He was looking at books in Standard, of course, as he could not read Tartarian, at least not decently.

Owain followed the woman, his eyes fully appreciating her figure and movements. However, he didn't make it in any way obvious. He simply walked behind her, hands crossed behind his back now that she had left his arm.

Owain smirked slightly at her words. "Of course not." He paused, taking in the view from the spot. "It is a rather excellent vantage point. I wonder if it was not intentionally built this way. I know that in my estate there are places designed to be good for watching others, without being anything so dishonorable as an actually hidden place per se."

“I’ve never thought of it like that, I used to think we were just clever to have been so sneaky.” Marissa smiled, before breaking into a little laugh. “You’ve shattered my illusions of my own genious.” She moved back over to him and looked in his eyes, her own staring deep into his. “Do you dance? I like dancing.” As if to prove her point, she held a make believe partner and waltz around the room a little. Stopping she turned to face him and smiled, her face lighting up as her eyes shone.

“As to your question, the man never found out. We still tease him about it.” Marissa frowned slightly. “You must think that is very mean of us, but I think honestly that he was playing with us.” She walked back over to him, walking very seductively as she tested Owain, surprised that he did not seem to be as enchanted with her as she had hoped.

Owain smiled a little to her, not wanting to overdo it. "You dance charmingly, my lady. Perhaps we shall dance this evening, if you would save me a place on your card."

Owain gave her another little smile as she walked over. Oh, God, that walk. He again offered her his arm. "If he wasn't...well..." He just shook his head a little at the silliness. "Where to next?"

Nodding her head, Marissa smiled as she linked her arm through Owain’s. “I would be honoured to dance with you.” She was surprised how much she actually meant that.

She guided them out of the room, pointing to the door at one end of the library, explaining that it led to her father’s study, they took the one directly opposite, which led into another drawing room filled with soft furnishings and was very delicately decorated with tiny summer flowers. She introduced the room as her mother’s sitting room, where she liked to spend time. Continuing through to a door, again opposite, as the house was designed so that you could walk the length of the house without having to re-enter the hall, they moved into another sitting room, this one more modern than any of the ones they had seen so far.

“These are the less formal rooms, as you can see this is more the family’s room.” But she did not let them linger there for long before she had them through the next door, this time the room changed drastically as they entered a rich wooden room, dominated in the middle by a full size snooker table.

“This is possibly one of the most used rooms in the house. After dinner instead of a port and cigar the younger men tend to disappear into here.” She gave him a smile. “Do you play? My brother is excels at it, and has tried to teach me a couple of times, but I don’t seem to be very good at it.” She once more moved away from Owain, and walked around the table, gliding her fingers lightly over the green baize, as her eyes remained fixed to his.

Owain smiled a little, continuing to follow her through the house. He looked down at the snooker table with mild interest. "I know how and I have played before with some friends." he commented. "I would not say that I am a particularly avid...or a particularly skilled player, however. My younger sister plays."

Owain walked over near her, laying his hand on the velvet of the table as well. "There is a great deal of history in your home, Your Grace." He met her eyes evenly. "It must have been very interesting to grow up here."

He lost himself in her eyes for a moment, a slip in his facade of reserve. Turning away after mere seconds of indiscretion, he looked towards the door distractedly. Returning his eyes to Marissa, he said "Tell me about the other guests that you are expecting. When do you think they will arrive?"

Owain proferred his arm once more, ready to move on to the next room.

Marissa looked at Owain and smiled, then once more slipped her hand through his arm, and began to lead him back into the main hall. “I think you are lucky that Val – Lord Stratton – brought you here for this weekend. Normally the house is full of older people, but this has been arranged by Hugo – my brother – and a lot of those attended will be let crotchety.” She let her fingers tighten on his arm slightly, feeling him before she returned her touch to its original pressure.

“I could name everyone for you, but I think it would be better for you to meet them, that will make it easier for you to kind of remember who is who.” She laughed melodically. “And it will also mean that I do not miss someone important.” Despite her words she thought for a moment, trying to recall exactly who was coming. “I do believe Damien is coming – that’s Val’s brother, Lord Nefarious – and there will be the usual crowd, who you will either love or hate.”

As they moved back through the hall, Marissa looked at the clock and frowned, surprised that they had been gone as long as they had. “I was going to show you your room, but that may have to wait until later, as I expect others have begun to arrive.” She looked at him questioningly. “Unless you wish to see your room before meeting some of the others?” Oddly she could not help hoping that he accepted the offer, but had the niggling feeling that he was not as interested in being in her company as she would have liked.

Owain tensed slightly at the squeeze, making apparent strong, firmly developed muscles. "I would not mind seeing my room." He said. "Then we can come greet everyone else and you shall have to make introductions."

"Your family is quite charming, my lady. I must confess to being rather favorably impressed with all of them that I have so far met." He smiled a little, polite but slightly sly. "I wasn't expecting to be able to feel so at ease here so soon."

Owain pondered the imminent arrival of the other guests even as he was shown to his room. He was looking forward to meeting as many people as possible. However, to be honest, he was more looking forward to spending as much time with Marissa as possible without being too obvious about it.

“Your plan would appear to be a very good one.” Marissa smiled as she once more began to guide them in the desired direction, this time towards the sweeping staircase, that always seemed to dominate the hall in these country houses, and greeted new arrivals with a rather awe inspiring spectacle.

Portraits once more looked down upon those that walked beneath, watching was they climbed at a leisurely pace, Marissa finding herself not wanting to leave the company of Owain, finding him refreshingly different to the usual gentlemen that visited her family. She frowned slightly, as she wondered why he had not reacted to her as so many had before.

They wandered along the corridor towards the room allocated to Owain. As was usual at her family gatherings, one wing of the house was put aside for family while the other was for friends and other guests, the bedrooms given in order of rank. It was not unusual when they had larger parties for the family wing to accommodate some of the guests, and it was to one of these rooms that Marissa led the Duke of Tasat.

She paused outside a door and smiled. “This is your room.” She pushed open the door, and let it swing open to its full width, letting her companion get his first view of his home for the weekend. “It was the Emperor Erebus’s favourite room and was used by no one but him when he was alive, but Gehenna – the Empress refuses to sleep there – so it has once again been opened up to others use.”

Stepping through the door, she grabbed Owain’s hand and pulled him inside, closing the door behind them, her back resting against it as she watched him walk deeper into the room. The room was dominated by the bed, a huge wooden piece of furniture that matched perfectly with the rest of the surroundings. Though the room was hardly modern, it was most certainly comfortable.

“Do you like it?” Marissa’s voice was soft, almost breathy as she continued to look at him.

Owain arched a brow slightly when she closed the door and moreso at her breathy voice. "With all due respect, m'lady, it is a little early to be alone together behind closed doors, in a bedroom no less. Whatever will people say?" He smiled slightly, teasingly. Of course, he had made his words both reassuring and daunting at once. He had put her off again but he had also suggested that there would come a time for such things, that he wanted something slow in the coming and thus also likely long lasting or even permanent. In the fullness of time, of course.

Owain took in the room. He located where the servants had placed his bags as well as all of the furniture. "It is rather nice. I do wonder why Her Imperial Majesty refused it...?"

He shook his head a little. "That is another thing I have long been wondering about your country. I am rather interested in the origins of some of your naming conventions."

Moving from the door, Marissa pulled it open with her and even had the decency to blush. She had merely been trying to get some reaction from him, and had failed miserable to get the one she had expected. Not that she had wanted anything from her actions and she knew that she had overstepped the mark. Her mother would have gone made if she knew what her daughter had done.

She smiled sadly. “You must forgive my behaviour.” She frowned slightly, her brow creasing as she lowered her eyes. “You must think very poorly of me.” Not that she really deserved anything less. She was practically trying to seduce the young Duke on first meeting him, just to discover why he did not react like all the others, like Lord Felix Hardcastle for one.

Marissa once more became her old self, but with the attitude that she needed to be a little more discreet in her actions. “Who knows the reasons for the actions of the Empress, even if she is my cousin?” She moved through the room and walked over to the window. “This room has one of the nicest views. Come and see.”

She turned back to the view and smiled, as she pondered his question. “The names of the Empire and the places in it are old – in fact, very old.” She shrugged slightly. “Perhaps the conqueror had a really bad day when he first won the country, or he thought the place reminded him of Hell. Whatever the reason, it is lost in the sands of time.” She looked at him. “The rest of the nation has just continued in the same vein. Tartarus finds it very hard to let go of its traditions. I’m quite surprised we don’t still have Imperial Games, with gladiators and lions.”

Owain looked at Marissa for a long moment as she apologized. Finally, he walked over, took her hand, and lightly kissed it in courtly fashion. Looking up, he smiled lightly before moving to the window and taking in the view.

Owain nodded as she answered his question, laughing slightly. "It is interesting, to say the least. Tell me about these ancient gladiators."

Marissa looked at him, surprised by Owain’s interest. “Well, um…gladiators are gladiators. They fight each other to the death on the whim of an Emperor who has nothing to do on a sunny afternoon.” She smiled and looked at him again, forgetting how bad she had been feeling only moments ago. “The contests were removed several hundred years ago, although Gehenna has often joked that they could come in useful if she needed to remove a lot of people in a hurry – um, the Empress, that is.” She laughed again.

Standing looking at him for a moment, she suddenly did not want to go down and join the others. Despite her dismay at him not finding her as appealing as many others seemed to, she found it refreshing to be treated as a person rather than some kind of trinket. “I suppose we should go back down and join the others.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling again. “Otherwise Mama might wonder what I’ve done with you.” She blushed, recalling their location and his earlier remark.

Owain laughed lightly. "I suppose that would be one way to do it. Are people often...removed?"

After a moment, Owain nodded. "We probably should. Do you think the guests will have arrived by now or not?"

Shaking her head, Marissa laughed and blushed at the poor impression she was giving Owain of the Empire. “No, as far as I know they do not remove people.” She doubted her words, in every nation people disappeared off the face of the planet; she did not think that Tartarus was any different. “And I’m sure that if people are removed then they must have done something very wrong to deserve it.” She smiled. “But let’s not ruin the weekend with such discussions.”

She turned away from the window, and slipped her arm back through his, before guiding him once more to the door. “Some more guests should have arrived by now, but they all arrive when they can, which means that most of them will be here for dinner, but other than that, they just appear in little groups.” She laughed lightly. “Val – Lord Stratton – is usually the first to arrive, but I think it’s because he likes to be able to be himself before all the others arrive. You know, not have to be so formal and such.”

A frown etched itself on her forehead. “Damien – Lord Nefarious – is usually one of the last to arrive, as I think he likes to make an entrance.” Her fingers brushed lightly over Owain’s sleeve, despite her being discreet, she had not totally given up on her endeavours. “Let me introduce you to everyone, I’m sure they are all going to love meeting you.”

With a blush rising on her cheeks, she led him back out of the room, a smile on her lips, as they entered the hallway. She flicked her gaze to his face, once more taking as much note of his features as she could. He really is very handsome, she thought as she guided them to the staircase, and down the sweeping stairs, finding themselves not much later back in entrance hall.

Her eyes fixed on the doorway to the anteroom that would lead them back out into the garden. Her heart sank at the thought that she would have to give up her endeavour with Owain, but she still had the whole weekend to have him following her like a little puppy dog. From the room, she could hear voices which indicated that others had now arrived, and had not made it out into the garden. She waited until the sound disappeared, so they could greet everyone in one group rather than have to keep stopping and starting on their way through.

She turned to Owain and smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Thank you for letting me be your guide.” Not waiting for him to answer, she pulled lightly on his arm in the direction of the door, and silently the couple walked through, the room once more quiet other than the muffled voices of the people outside coming through the open door.

Moving to the window, she gazed out briefly, her eyes taking in the group that had arrived, the party having already grown by ten new arrivals. She grimaced, and then with her smile once more replaced she stepped through the door, guiding Owain with her, bringing him over to where the others were milling around, nodding and greeting those that spoke.

As they appeared, Lady Lavinia seemed to materialise out of no where to take over the introductions, her daughter falling in behind them as the Duchess led the young Duke over to the main body of the group, a large smile on her face as she took them over to the nearest couple naming an Earl and Countess, before moving around the group.

Marissa stopped following, though her eyes lingered on Owain longer than she had realised, so much so that she did not see another young man break away from the party and come over to her. She almost cried out, as he startled her out of her reverie by placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Lady Marissa.”

“Lord Hardcastle.” The surprise disappeared from her face, as her usual beaming smile appeared on her lips, her eyes finding his. “What a pleasure it is to see you?” She watched as his own smile grew, almost outdoing her own. The difference was his was far more genuine. “And you managed to get here early, as you promised.”

He chuckled slightly as he took hold of her hand, and brought it up to his lips. “I would do anything to see more of you.” He pressed his lips to her hand and kissed it tenderly. As his head bowed, her smile disappeared, revealing more of her true feelings, but the smile was back in place as he rose and looked in her eyes again. “I hope that we will get to spend some time together.”

“Why, Lord Hardcastle, you know how much of an honour that will be for me.” She flicked her eyes over to where her mother was introducing Owain to another of the guests. Her gaze lingered a little too long, causing her companion to turn and look at what had attracted her attention.

He frowned slightly, before looking back at her. “Who is that?”

“Oh, no one of importance.” Her voice sounded far away to herself, as she continued to stare. Suddenly she pulled herself out of her reverie. “Tell me, Lord Hardcastle…”

“Felix.”

“…Felix,” she spoke his name uncomfortably, despite her smile. “What have you been up to since I last saw you?”

* * * * *

Lady Lavinia moved though the group, her arm linked to Owain’s as if she was afraid she was going to lose him, despite the party still being relatively small. “Did you enjoy your walk around the house? Marissa can either make the place sound like a palace or the gateway to Hell.” She chuckled softly, pausing in her conversation to introduce the young man to the middle-aged Earl and Countess of Dracton, who they had a little conversation before moving on, where she returned back to her previous conversation. “Oh, did you get an opportunity to see your room? Issi has a terrible habit of forgetting the important things.”

Normally she would not be happy with her daughter disappearing with strange men up to their rooms, but there was something about Owain that made her believe that propriety was as important to him as it was to her.

A chill ran through Owain as he contemplated his conversation with Marissa. It wasn't that people might disappear in Tartarus or whether the deserved it or not that bothered him. Until that moment, he had known that such things did not happen in his country. Now that Marissa spoke of not knowing, he realized he really had no way to be sure either. A Gwydion sits on the High Throne, he told himself. That was reassurance enough.

Owain felt a surge of jealousy go through him as Marissa flirted with Lord Hardcastle. He was shocked how taken he was with her. She seemed a little flighty and a little forward but...that was why he locked her. There was a certain precarious innocence about her that he found beyond charming. He was not happy she was flirting with Felix, however indifferent she seemed. He wondered if she would look so indifferent regarding him when he was not looking.

He politely kept Lavinia's arm in his, speaking pleasantly with everyone he was introduced to. "I enjoyed it a great deal. You have a lovely home, Your Grace. And, yes, I was shown to my room."

Marissa was not having the best of times, having to listen as Lord Hardcastle droned on about his so-called exploits in the capital, and the people he had been speaking to at his Club, intermingled with continual references to how happy he was that he was once more in his presence. Her smile remained fixed, and she asked the odd question here and there, but she was having difficulty focusing on what he was saying, as her thoughts were elsewhere, but not as far away as most might have thought.

She smiled brightly as the man beside her, paused for breath, finding her opportunity. “Felix,” she practically breathed out his name, as she fluttered her eyes at him for a moment, before suddenly frowning. “Would you be so kind as to get me a drink?”

As he nodded and turned, she looked over at her sister beckoning her to come discreetly. Elizabeth shook her head, staring at her older sister with a smile on her face, which earned her a disgusted look from Marissa, and a pleading yet silently mouthed ‘pleased’.

Moving over slowly, teasing her sister, Elizabeth finally reached the spot where moments ago Lord Hardcastle was standing. She smiled up at her sister. “Are you having trouble, Issi?” She flicked her eyes over to where His Lordship was fixing Marissa a drink.

“I want you to tell Lord Hardcastle that I have a headache, and that I have gone to lie down.” Marissa spoke urgently. “Will you do that for me, Beth?”

Elizabeth looked at her sister. “This is not an assignation is it, Issi?”

Shaking her head, Marissa almost laughed. “Of course not. I don’t want him to follow me.” She frowned. “I’m just not in the mood for his puppy dog ways.” She looked at her sister pleadingly. “Please, Beth?”

“Is this because of the Duke of Tasat?” The sixteen year old looked over to where the young man was being introduced to yet more guests. “Do you like him, Issi?”

Marissa looked over to where Owain stood, finding her gaze drawn to him. “No, don’t be silly. I don’t even know him.” She frowned suddenly and looked over at the table where Lord Hardcastle was finishing his preparation of the drink. “Do this for me, Beth, please?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” Marissa smiled and turned, heading back into the house through the French windows, not looking over her shoulder in case she spotted Lord Hardcastle or even worse, got distracted by Owain.

As Lord Hardcastle turned from the table, he watched the retreating back of Marissa, his eyes instantly showing his disappointment. He walked over slowly to where she had been standing, her sister already in her place.

The young woman smiled apologetically. “Oh, Lord Hardcastle, Marissa came over suddenly unwell, and has retired to her room.” She frowned slightly. “I think she over did it, showing His Grace, the Duke of Tasat around the house. They were gone a very long time.” She smiled sweetly, her face the picture of innocence.

Briefly Felix cast a glance at Owain, feeling some kind of dislike for the man, despite not having been introduced to him. “I’m sure I’ll catch up with her later on.” He moved away from the young woman, not seeing her giggling behind his back as he headed back to the party, pausing near Lord Stratton, though his gaze kept finding itself focused on His Grace.

Elizabeth giggled behind her hand, her eyes flicking between Lord Hardcastle and the Duke of Tasat, knowing that by just mentioning a moment alone between Marissa and Owain, Felix would be twice as attentive to her sister, thus spoiling her sister’s plans. Congratulating herself on her cleverness, Elizabeth followed the route taken by her sister only moments ago.

* * * * *

Finally introducing Owain to everyone but Felix, Lady Lavinia moved over to where her nephew was standing with Felix. She gave Val a knowing smile, and turned to her companion. “Your Grace, I would like to introduce Lord Hardcastle.” She flicked her gaze at the young man, seeing the look on his face, knowing instantly the cause. “Lord Hardcastle, may I introduce the Duke of Tasat, from the Resurgent Dream.”

Felix looked at the man, and nodded his head slightly, not even presenting his hand to him. “It is a pleasure.” His tone of voice indicated otherwise, and his behaviour received and odd glance from Lady Lavinia.

The Duchess turned to Val, her eyebrows raised, before looking once more at Felix. She frowned slightly, hoping that the young man’s infatuation with her daughter was not going to bring a cloud over the gathering. “Have you seen Lady Marissa, my Lord?”

“She retired.” He nodded his head slightly. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Lady Lavinia flicked her gaze between Lord Stratton and Owain, her face saying it all without the need for words. She slipped her arm out from the young Duke’s and sighed. “Now, perhaps you see the reason for my warning?” She shook her head sadly.

Owain stonily stood through Felix's rude greeting. He wasn't the type to go out of the way to be polite when someone else was being rude. After all, he wasn't the one who needed to appease the puppy dog baron who was, so far, most unimpressive. "Charmed, I'm sure." He replied to the man's lackluster greeting, in a dry tone.

Lady Lavinina frowned heavily, as she watched Lord Hardcastle walk away. If the old adage ‘if looks could kill’ was actually true, his Lordship would have been dead on the floor in the most horrendous of ways. The Duchess looked at Owain and gave him a sad smile.

“I apologise for the rudeness displayed to you, Owain.” Her eyes and tone indicating how truly sorry she felt that one of her guests had been so insultingly treated. “Sometimes I wonder why that man is still allowed in this house.” She shook her head and looked towards the door of the house, a strange little smile on her lips. “Unfortunately, Marissa has a very strange effect on people.” She flicked her gaze between the two men, knowing that sometimes her middle child did not help the situation, but in her heart a mother could not overly berate one of her own. “If you will excuse me.”

Lady Lavinia moved away from the two men, and walked over to her husband, where she could be seen having a conversation with him. It was obvious by the way that his gaze flicked between Owain and Felix, and the way his brow furrowed, that she was filling him in on events.

Lord Stratton turned to Owain and shook his head. “She’s quite something, isn’t she?” He grinned, flicking his head towards the house indicating the subject of his conversation. “She isn’t really all bad, and although she really could handle things better, she is really quite a sweet young woman.” Val smiled, wondering why he felt the need to put the young man beside him straight upon aspects of his cousin.

"Don't trouble yourself over his behavior, dear lady." Owain said with his best smile. "I'm not worried about it."

He turned to Val with a grin. "Oh, I gather. She is a most fascinating woman, your cousin."

The afternoon passed, and despite wanting more than anything to return to downstairs to the guests, Marissa spent the time in her room. She was feeling oddly out of sorts, and more than a little confused. She found she was in no mood for the fawning of Lord Hardcastle and she knew the reason why.

“He’s not married…he’s not attached to anyone…” She frowned, and sighed. “He isn’t in love with anyone.” She walked over to the mirror and gazed at her reflection, running her eyes over her figure and turning around admiring herself. Then she laughed, walked over to the bed, and collapsed back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, giggling to herself.

A knock at the door, silenced her as she sat up, listening for clues to who it was. “Come in.” She turned her body, dropping her feet onto the floor, as she waited for her visitor to enter. She sighed loudly, as her gaze fell on a familiar face. “Oh, it’s you.” She collapsed back onto the bed, and continued her study of the ceiling.

Elizabeth walked into the room, and stood beside the bed, gazing down onto her prone sister. “What is the matter with you?” She moved a little closer and perched on the edge of the bed, tapping Marissa’s legs to get her to move them slightly.

The nineteen year old propped herself up on her elbows, and looked at her sister with a frown. “Nothing’s the matter. Why?” Her brow slowly lost its furrow, as her features were replaced with a look of indignation. “Do not even go there, Beth.” She sat all the way up, and pulled her legs up against her chest, hugging them to her body.

“You fancy him, don’t you?”

“I said, don’t…”

Elizabeth grinned and let out a giggle, suddenly enjoying herself, knowing that she had hit a nerve. “You fancy him and he doesn’t fancy you. Ouch!” She frowned as her sister’s foot moved suddenly and kicked her. “I’m going to tell Mama what you did.”

Marissa looked at her sister disinterestedly. “Go ahead. I really don’t care.” She lowered her legs and turned, climbing off the bed and heading towards the door. She opened it, and stood there, her sister knowing exactly what she wanted. “Go, baby. Go run to Mama.”

Elizabeth pouted and stormed out of the room, the door closing shut right behind her, as a giggling Marissa walked back to the bed and sat down, pondering what her sister had said.

* * * * *

Dinner was served at eight whenever the family was holding weekend party. This allowed for everyone to make the most of the day, get dressed for dinner and eat without giving themselves indigestion. It was also the way it had always been done, and Tartarians were sticklers for tradition.

There were fourteen for dinner, most of who had arrived before the party broke up and separated off into their rooms to get ready. The others were late arrivals that had managed to give themselves just enough time to dress before the party reformed in the drawing room. Due to good planning, and the fortunate withdrawal of one of Hugo’s friends, the party was split equally between males and females, which made the layout of the dining table so much easier for Her Grace, who liked things to be done properly.

Marissa finally emerged from her room, feeling slightly guilty for hiding away, but when she did finally make her way towards the stairs, she was feeling more like her old self. Dressed in a pale blue dress, which sparkled with diamond effects, and her hair piled loosely on her head, with tendrils wispy about her face, she looked enchanting. Giving her route a quick glance, she was grateful that Lord Hardcastle was in the other wing, as this gave her the opportunity of bumping into Owain, if he had not already gone down to dinner.

Owain smiled as Marissa bumped into him. "Hello again, lady. I was just preparing to go join the diners."

Marissa smiled, genuinely happy to see him. “Good evening, Your Grace.” She let her gaze run over him, admiringly, until her eyes found his. “I’m glad I caught you before you did.” For some reason she blushed slightly, and lowered her eyes. “I wanted to apologise for my behaviour early, especially rushing off without getting to speak to you again.” Her eyes once more found his. “I…I don’t want you to think that I normally just disappear when we have guests.”

"It's quite alright, dear lady." Owain answered, proferring his arm. "Don't worry about it. Would you care to accompany me to dinner?"

Marissa slipped her arm through his and nodded her head. “I would be honoured.” She paused for a moment, her mind replaying the conversation she had had earlier with her sister. She smiled to herself, as she had to admit he was very handsome, but that did not mean anything. She suddenly frowned in thought as she realised Elizabeth’s remark about him was more than likely correct.

She let them lead the way down the stairs, and she guided them to where they others would be gathered before being called to dinner. She stopped just outside the door, and looked at him. “I’m so pleased that you could come. I hope that I can persuade you to join me for a ride before you leave.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling at the thought.

Owain smiled, walking her to the dining room. He was quiet for now. Perhaps he was being too reserved? He didn't want the poor girl to honestly have no idea he was interested. Sometime this weekend, he would have to have a serious talk with her. For now, everything was going excellently.

"I would be more than willing, my lady. Perhaps we could go tomorrow, sometime during the day?" He offerred, regarding riding.

After she had responded to that as well, he stepped into the room with the others. He politely greeted the other guests, keeping Marissa on his arm for so long as she seemed content to stay there. He finally made his way over to Lavinia. "I can barely wait to see what Your Grace has prepared for dinner. If the cooking be as charming as the hostess..." The hostess clearly meant the lady of the house and not the daughter. The flattery was for Lavinia.

“Tomorrow would be perfect. We shall arrange a time once you know what you have planned for the day.” Marissa smiled, as she accepted his offer, suddenly finding herself looking forward to the following day, so much so that she had no cares as she walked into the room, her arm linked to Owain’s. So busy was she with her thoughts that she barely noticed the looks they received.

Lavinia, who had smiled when she saw her daughter walk in on the arm of the young man, moved to greet them as they entered. She chuckled softly at his compliment. “I assure you, Owain, that our cook is very proficient, and I am sure that you will find something on the menu that is to your taste.” She frowned slightly. “Unfortunately, I am afraid that I did not ask whether you had any special preferences.”

Not that she should have been concerned as she always made certain that there were several choices for the guests, including something for the vegetarians. But that did not stop her feeling more than a little like a bad hostess for not checking what he could and could not eat.

“I have sat you next to Marissa for dinner,” she looked at her daughter’s face for a reaction, and she got one, which she was actually surprised to see. Marissa’s face had suddenly come over with a look of relief which was soon replaced with one of frustration. “I’ve put Lord Hardcastle opposite you, Issi.”

Marissa’s frown was quickly replaced by her usual smile. “Your seating arrangement sounds as perfect as usual, Mama.” She let her eyes flick around the room as her mother spoke, looking for someone who she did not see.

Smiling to herself, Lavinia indicated several places around the room where members of the staff were holding trays with drinks on them. “There is champagne, Owain. Or should you wish for something else, just ask one of the staff.”

Tightening her hold on Owain’s arm, not too much, but enough for him to notice, Marissa stood listening to their conversation, happy to remain where she was. When she thought her mother and Owain were busy talking, she sneaked looks at the young Duke.

* * * * *

Lord Hardcastle had hoped to run into Marissa on his way to dinner, but having inquired as to her whereabouts, he had been informed that she had already gone down. He smiled to himself, grateful that she was at least going to be present, unlike her disappearance earlier in the afternoon, which had irked him more than anything. Well, almost anything…there was a certain guest that he had an instant disliking for.

Pushing open the door and entering, his eyes flicked around the room, as he sought out the object of his thoughts. He saw her almost instantly, his eyes drawn to her familiar form, evening from behind he could not mistake her for anyone else. It did not take him much longer to work out who she was standing with.

A frown spread over his face as he moved deeper into the room, greeting the odd guest as he moved towards the fire, standing in front of it his hand resting on the mantle as he watched the trio converse. He was surprised to see Elizabeth walk up to him and smile.

“Good evening, Lord Hardcastle.” She followed his gaze, not that she was surprised at where it ending. “Marissa is looking beautiful this evening, is she not?” She turned to watched the expression on his face.

"Champagne will be fine." Owain said with a grin, noticing Marissa's grip.

Marissa did not see the arrival of Lord Hardcastle, if she had she might have played up to him, at the very least giving him a wave and one of her most gracious smiles, but she did not, and she remained with her back to him, her attention too wrapped up in the young Duke, as he spoke to her mother.

On the other hand, Lavinia had noticed the arrival of the young man, and it was this more than anything that brought a smile to her lips, as she watched the look that grew on his face. She knew of his feelings for her daughter, and despite that he was actually a nice young man, she felt in her heart, that neither would be happy if anything ever came out of his infatuation with her. Marissa was not a spoilt child, she just did not always think about what she was doing, and Lord Hardcastle was not the man to guide her and make her the woman she could become.

Lavinia gave Owain a smile and nodded. “Champagne it is then.” She turned to one of the staff and beckoned him with her finger. The young man moved quickly over to the group, the drinks on his tray instantly offered for the three to take one. Lavinia took one of her own, and then looked over the young couple’s shoulder. “Oh, there’s Emmy, if you’ll excuse me.” She smiled as she left the two alone again.

“You’ll have to excuse, Mama, she can be a little flighty at times.” Marissa looked the young Duke in the eyes, and gave him a pleasant smile, her eyes twinkling more than usual in the low light of evening, as they picked up the reflections from the lights around the room. “She’s a little hard to keep up with, but she’s a wonderful woman.”

She looked towards the window, catching sight of the growing darkness outside. The French window was open, the cool breeze keeping the room at a level temperature. “We have a very pleasant evening, perhaps later…” She stopped recalling her earlier mistake of pushing the limits of propriety and blushed slightly, as she stopped mid-sentence.

* * * * *

The young woman’s eyes gauged the level of annoyance that building in Lord Hardcastle with a smile on her face. She could already imagine the fireworks to come if the young man got the chance to spend some time with her sister. She frowned slightly as she suddenly saw the error of her ways. The weekend could work out better than she had planned.

“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?” Elizabeth let out a long sigh, the kind that always followed the appreciation of something unobtainable. “It’s a shame he has eyes for no one but Issi.” She pouted as she returned her gaze to her companion’s face.

Lord Hardcastle’s features were swept over with a wave of annoyance that he desperately tried to hide. It was not good form to lose one’s composure amongst company. A smile returned to his lips, but it never reached his eyes, which had once again settled on the couple across the room.

"She's quite charming." Owain commented as he walked Marissa to her seat. He pulled it out for her and helped her to sit before taking his own seat.

Owain caught her mistake and recovered for her. "Later you can tell me more about your lovely country before I retire. I do want to rest well for our ride tomorrow. I haven't been on a horse since I arrived in Tartarus..." He paused a moment, shaking his head.

Owain made small talk with the other guests at the table. He spoke of his homeland, both the Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream and the Grand Duchy of Shieldcrest. He spoke of his two sisters, Duchess Gwendolyn the saintly Methodist philanthropist who he could not brag enough about, and the more volatile young Duchess Morgan, who seemed to trouble him a little.

As the food arrived, the Duke grinned and took it gladly.

Marissa smiled, as she took her seat, and her expression was indescribable as he finished off her sentence for her, saving her embarrassment. She was feeling more than a little confused. Normally she just said what she wanted, and everyone seemed to let her do it, but with Owain there seemed to be a definite line to how far she could go, and oddly it was one that she could actually see. If she had been spending the day doing with Lord Hardcastle, doing exactly what she had been doing with Owain, she knew that he would have said nothing about them being in a closed room together, and he would have suggested a stroll in the garden.

A slight frown creased her brow momentarily before being replaced by her smile. “I would love to tell you about Tartarus, though I am afraid that I might not make it sound as appealing as you have the Resurgent Dream.” She let her eyes drift around the table and listened as he described his family, enjoying listening to him and seemed to share his pride and concerns as he spoke of his family.

She in turn spoke a little of her own, but she kept it to a minimum as those around her already knew so much, she would wait until their ride before she would bore him with more details.

The talking ceased a little as the first course was served, which gave her the opportunity to once more gaze at those around her. Her eyes fixed to Lord Hardcastle, who was sitting opposite. She could tell by the look he was giving her that he was unhappy about something, which she put down to her leaving earlier. Several times during the meal, she caught him glaring at the young duke beside her, but brushed it from her mind as she continued her conversation with those around her, oddly seeming to focus more on Owain than anyone else.

Further down the table, Elizabeth watched the scene playing out, a little smirk playing on her lips. She knew that nothing would happen after dinner, not that she would be around as the men split off for their cigars and brandy as the ladies returned to the drawing room, waiting for the group to be once more brought together.

As the second course was served, Marissa turned to Owain and smiled. “I hope that you are enjoying your stay with us.” She picked up her glass of water and took a small sip. “Of course, the real fun starts tomorrow with shooting – if that is something you enjoy – and riding, of course.” Her eyes lit up with the thought of their plan for the following day.

After dinner, Owain went with the other men for cigars and brandy. He mostly ignored Lord Hardcastle and chatted with the others about war, international politics, jousting, and other things men talked about.
...
Owain stayed up talking to Marissa about Tartarus. He tried to learn everything he could about the nation. He enjoyed hearing about the good parts but he was also interested in the worst, interested in what he was getting into.
...
The next morning, after breakfast, Owain headed out to the stables with Marissa. He looked carefully through the selection of horses, picking out a strong, fierce horse. After the selection, he helped Marissa onto her own horse with a reserved and gentlemanly air.

Guiding the horse out of the stables, he grinned back at Marissa. "Where is the best place to ride, lady?"

Marissa took the reigns of the horse, and smiled down at Owain as he guided them out of the stables. She looked about her then pointed out towards one of the fields that lay beyond the well-kept garden. A group of trees obscured some of the view, but from their position, it looked like good open countryside.

“There is a lake in that direction, it is beautiful and peaceful.” She grinned as a thought came into her mind. “Elizabeth and I sail on it sometimes, with Hugo if he is around.” She returned her gaze to Owain, admiring him from her lofty position. “We can go there is you would like, or we can just stay in the open fields if you do not want to go somewhere so isolated.”

She had managed to get all excited in anticipation of the ride, she had barely been able to eat any breakfast, and had managed to avoid bumping into Lord Hardcastle all morning. She honestly did not mind where they rode, as long as they would not be interrupted or joined by other members of the party.

"The lake would be fine." Owain answered. He started his horse in that direction at an easy gallop. He smiled as the wind rushed past him, feeling the strong animal beneath him.

Owain crested the hill, taking in the view beyond the trees and looking for the lake.

Riding up to him and bringing her horse to a stop, Marissa let her eyes wander over the scene before them. The wide expanse of open countryside never failed to make the young woman feel free and alive, and never more so than when she was on a horse. She brought her gaze to the trees, and pointed in their direction, as if Owain could have followed to where she indicated and see the lake.

“It’s just through those trees. They look a little denser than they are.” She turned her face to him and smiled, as she flicked a strand of hair out of her face that had escaped and was dancing in the breeze. “It is a very nice ride, and the scenery across the lake is breathtaking.” She frowned briefly wondering if he was actually enjoying his time with her, she could not help wondering he had merely agreed to be polite.

She grinned suddenly, her eyes twinkling. “Last to the water’s edge does a forfeit of the other’s choosing.” She kicked off her horse, sending it racing in the direction of the trees, not giving Owain a chance to reply.

Owain had been about to say something. Falling quiet, he urged his horse forward at great speed. He was, of course, a Knight of the Cup and had all the appropriate training in horsemanship and similar arts. He leaned forward, getting the most speed out of the horse possible.

The ground rushed away beneath him as he urged the horse forward faster and faster. He didn't let his gaze shift to Marissa. He wasn't sure exactly what she might claim as her prize. Of course, he could always say he never agreed to the bet but that seemed rather dishonorable at this point. Joining in the race was an implied acceptance, after all.

Owain rode quickly through the trees, thinner than they looked from afar. He moved his horse gracefully between the strong trunks, losing some ground because of his unfamiliarity with the woods. He finally broke through, spotting and moving quickly towards the shore of the lake which Marissa had set as their destination.

Having entered the trees before Owain and having a better understanding of the layout, Marissa waited until she knew he could not see her, and pulled her horse up, bringing it to a stop, making sure she was out of sight as the young Duke rode past. She smiled to herself and kicked her horse back into a gallop as soon as he was a suitable distance ahead.

As he broke out of the trees, he would have seen the lake, but there was no Marissa or her mount, at least not until she came out of the trees behind him, frowning as she feigned disappointment at coming second. She moved her horse over to his, and looked him in the face.

“It would appear that you have won, Your Grace.” She lowered her eyes, as her fingers fidgeted with the reins. Raising her head, she looked out over the lake, as if afraid to look at him as she spoke. “It would appear that I am forced to perform a forfeit of your choosing.” She turned her head to look at him, a look of challenge in her eyes.

Owain looked at Marissa for a long moment, trying to decide what to ask of her. God, she was beautiful. Shaking his head, he looked out over the lake. It was beautiful too, in a way.

"Very well, my lady. I would ask to be able to call on you again before I leave the country." He smiled a little to himself, shifting his horse.

After hearing her response, he looked about. "Now that we have ridden to the lake, where shall we go? We might do a circuit around before returning home."

Hearing his reply, Marissa stared dumbly for a moment, before breaking into a smile. She had not been expecting him to ask that of her. She was also a little surprised that he had not taken advantage of the offer to request a kiss. If he thought that she disliked his company, she could understand his forfeit, but in truth she was flattered that he, who has shown so little interest, would want to see her again. It appeared that though he was not as taken with her as some, he was showing an interest. As her thoughts reached this point, her smile had grown.

“I would be honoured if you were to pay me a visit before you leave.” Her eyes met his briefly, before she too shifted her horse. “You are to leave soon?” She wondered why the thought seemed so make her unhappy.

She looked out over the lake again, as he spoke again, her eyes following the route around its shape. “A ride around it would be most enjoyable, and it does give a wonderful view of the house from the other side…through the trees.” She kicked her horse, this time only pushing it into a walk, as she drew level with Owain. “You may pick our pace.” She smiled at him, as she handed him control of their ride.

"In a week's time." he said, starting off around the lake. He set the pace at a brisk trot, allowing the trip to stretch out. He didn't say much. He was just basking in her company.
...
Owain socialized pleasantly for the rest of the weekend. When it finally came time to leave, he said a lengthy but still somewhat reserved farewell to Marissa.

The next week was spent touring Tartarus. Owain called on some of the Tartaran nobles, visited more clubs, and toured the sites of the country. Before he left, he had one more call to make.
...
Owain stood outside Marissa's home again that Friday, smiling to himself. He approached the door and knocked gently, waiting for one of the servants to come answer. To be honest, he was slightly nervous. He hoped this would go well.

Following the end of the weekend party, Marissa had become a little withdrawn, which oddly begun when she heard that Owain would only be in Tartarus for a week, and was made even worse when it came to saying goodbye on the Monday. And even the playful teasing and flirting she usually did with Lord Hardcastle had lost its appeal, which did not help that particular man’s temper.

Resting on her bed, not really in the mood for seeing anyone, especially Elizabeth, who had picked up on her mood and was doing everything she could to wind up Marissa even more, until finally the older girl had pushed her out of her room, and locked the door. And it was in this situation that Marissa now wiled away her Friday morning.

Lying back and staring up at the ceiling, she replayed the scene of them by the lake, where Owain had used a forfeit to ask if he could call upon her before he left. Knowing how poorly he seemed to think of her, she suspected that he would not keep his word, and this once more lowered her mood. It was a very dejected Marissa that turned at the knock at her door…

* * * * *

Jenkins made his way slowly to the door, answering as quickly as his old body would get him there. The family had often thought about replacing the old retainer, but he had been in the house since the current Duke was a young boy, and he could not bring himself to retire the old man, instead it had been agreed, with much anguish, for the old butler to decrease his hours. But on the Friday that Owain knocked the door, it was Jenkins that answered.

“Good morning, your Grace,” said Jenkins as he pulled open the door and spotted the young Duke. Despite his age, he had a good memory for faces and names, and had instantly recognised him from the weekend party. “Please come in, and I will inform her Grace that you are here. The Duchess of Lorm is in her private drawing room. If you would care to wait here, I will inform her that you are here.”

* * * * *

Elizabeth, who was coming down the stairs as the door was answered, spied the Duke of Tasat and smiled to herself, as she listened to Jenkins. She knew that Owain was not here to see her mother. Without being seen by anyone, she returned back the way she had come, and made her way to her sister’s door, knocking on it enthusiastically.

“Who is it?” A voice came from behind the locked door.

Knocking again, Elizabeth tried the door handle. “Issi, it’s me.”

“I told you to go away.”

Elizabeth sighed heavily. “I know something that will make you very happy.”

Marissa could be heard moving on the bed, and then her soft footfalls moved closer to the door. “If it isn’t that you are going to disappear for the rest of my life, I can’t imagine anything that will make me happy at this precise moment.” Almost as if she was unsure that she had secured herself in, she checked the lock on the door.

“Then I guess you don’t want to know that the Duke of Tasat has just come to pay a visit.” Elizabeth sounded bored as she imparted this piece of information, and then turned to leave.

Behind her the lock to Marissa’s bedroom clicked open, followed soon afterwards by the door creaking open. “Beth!” She exited her room and stepped after her sister, grabbing her arm. “If you are lying…”

Elizabeth spun on her heels and looked at Marissa. “I’m not. Jenkins just about to announce his arrival to Mama.” She smiled. “If you don’t believe me, he’s waiting downstairs in the hall.”

Releasing her sister’s arm, she made her way to the curve in the stairs, keeping down below the banister, sitting on one of the steps. She gazed down into the hallway, seeing Owain standing below. She smiled, while being a little surprised that he had come to keep his word. Of course, he might have been there for other reasons, but she was too happy to think of them.

Just then, Jenkins returned to the young man, and guided him towards her mother’s sitting room, where she could see the older woman inside waiting to greet the Duke, a large smile on her face.

* * * * *

Lavinia smiled, and indicated for Owain to take a seat. She was not wholly surprised to see him, and she had a very strong feeling that the young man did not come to visit the house for renewing friendships that he had formed during his stay, expect perhaps with one member.

“Owain – I hope you don’t mind me calling you Owain – what a pleasure it is too see you so soon.” She walked over to a seat and settled herself in it. “Can I get you something to drink perhaps?” Although she knew the man was possibly in a hurry, she still played the dutiful hostess. There was nothing wrong with keeping young love waiting for a little while – if her guess was correct.

"Good morning, Jenkins." Owain said as he stepped inside. He waited and was then escorted to see Lavinia. He smiled as she called him by name. "Of course not, my lady." He sat slowly, his smile broadening. "And a Brandy would go down nicely."

The Duchess chuckled. “If I can call you Owain then there will be none of this ‘my lady’, it’s Lavinia.” She gave him a warm smile and moved over to the drink cabinet, which was in the shape of a large globe in a wooden frame, a wedding present from some relative that she could not place. “A brandy it is.” She pulled open the top, to reveal a selection of decanters. Picking up the relevant one, she poured Owain a glass and walked it over to him.

“I must say I am surprised to see you back so soon,” she lied convincingly. “I thought you would be busy making the most of your last few days in the Empire. “The family will be so pleased to renew your acquaintance.” She glanced over at the drinks. “I think I might join you with a sherry.” She glanced over at him as she walked back over and pulled out a glass. “Was there a specific reason for your visit, as I’m afraid Hugo and the Duke are out at present.”

"Very well, Lavina." Owain said. He took his drink and sipped. "As for my return, I must admit that I was rather taken with your family when I stayed here last weekend..." He paused a a moment before adding "...especially with the Lady Marissa."

Lavinia smiled from her place over by the drink’s globe, not at all surprised by his admission, though her face held a very good impression of her being just that. “Oh, I see.” She picked up the sherry she had poured and moved back over to where he was sitting and settled herself down on one of the couches. “You would like her to be informed that you are here to see her?”

The Duchess gave him a very warm smile. She was pleased that he had come, there had been something about Marissa that had altered following his leaving, and it was not hard for the mother to know that she was pining for him; he had not simpered after her as she was used to.

“If I may just say, speaking as her mother, I should not wish my daughter to jump into a relationship too quickly. I have warned many like I warned you.” She looked him in the eyes. “And you were the first to listen. There is much hope in my heart, that you are successful in your visit.” She rose from her seat and walked over to the bell pull near the fireplace.

Moments later, the old retainer arrived at the door. “Would you inform, Lady Marissa that she has a guest, Jenkins.” She smiled and turned back into the room as the butler headed out of the door, her eyes once more on Owain. “Perhaps you would care for a walk out in the garden, Owain? It is a very pleasant day today.”

* * * * *

Marissa had watched the scene played out before her, unable to hear the words, but she could not hide her smile as Jenkins left her mother’s drawing room and headed up the stairs. Not wanting to make the poor man walk further than he needed, she stood up, and walked down to greet him, looking as if it was purely by chance.

A little while later, having stopped in front of a mirror to check her appearance, Marissa entered her mother’s drawing room, her eyes fixing on the young man before her. His face was more handsome to her eyes than she had previously recalled.

“Good morning, your Grace.” She smiled, as she moved a little closer, her walk slow and casual, though she could not hide the excitement in her eyes. “I assume you have come to make me carry out my forfeit?”

"If you don't mind." Owain responded when Lavinia asked if he wanted Marissa informed.

"I'd love to." He answered again when she asked about the walk. He looked up with a grin as Marissa arrived, standing. "I have, my lady. Your mother and I were just going to go for a stroll in the garden. Perhaps you would join us?"

Marissa frowned slightly, her mother instantly noticing the look of disappointment no matter how fast her daughter had managed to hide it. But as she walked further into the room, the smile was firmly back in place. “I would be honoured to join you both for a stroll.” Her eyes flicked briefly to her mother’s face, before returning to Owain’s. “It is a pleasure to see you again, your Grace.” Her eyes twinkled with happiness.

“Let’s not dawdle, shall we?” Lavinia’s voice broke through the greeting, as she bustled about the room. “We don’t want to miss this good weather.” She looked at the young duke. “Would you mind so much, if I took your arm?” Barely giving him time to answer, she looped her hand through his, and she guided him to the French windows.

Marissa stood for a moment, watching as the young man was herded outside by her mother, her eyes rolling up to heaven for a moment, before she followed with a slight sigh. Her gaze lingered on the back of Owain’s head, before she let it slide down the length of his body. She moved to stand on others side, so that she could talk to him easily, her heart sinking as her mother spoke again.

“Issi, dear, can you come and walk this side of me?” She paused as she let her daughter take her place on the opposite side to her from Owain. “I’m feeling a little unsteady today.” She heard the young woman tut, and pretended not to see the glance that Marissa gave their visitor.

“Shall we take a stroll over to the rose garden?” Lavinia spoke to no one in general, unsure whether anyone was listening. She smiled to herself as they headed off in the direction she mentioned, knowing that both were probably wishing her miles away.

“What have you been doing since you left us, your Grace?” Marissa’s voice broke through Lavinia’s reverie.

Owain smiled as Lavinia took his arm. "Of course not. You are most welcome."

He grinned at Marissa's question as he looked among the flowers. "I have mostly been touring the sites of your nation."

Marissa smiled, enjoying the walk despite her mother’s presence. “Did you do all the usual, a trip to the Museum, a trip to the Botanical Gardens, a trip to see the Palace? Followed in the evening by a visit to the theatre?” She laughed lightly. “That’s all we ever used to do when we went into the capital.” Even though they lived only a short distance from the centre of the city, the Duke and Duchess strove to keep their children away from the hustle and bustle of city life. “Of course, we go up there a lot more now.

As they continued around the garden, the young woman picked herself a flower, her mother smiling. The conversation moved on, general topics raised, covered and soon forgotten. They covered the complete circuit of the rose garden, where the Duchess had been pointing out her favourite flowers to Owain, much to the bored looking Marissa’s annoyance.

Suddenly, Lavinia cocked her head in the direction of the house, her ear cupped with her hand. “Oh, it seems I’m being called.” She turned and smiled to the two young people nearby. “You can continue without me, I’ll catch up once I’m finished.”

The smile that rose on Marissa’s lips slipped for a moment as her mother mentioned returning, but she tried to hide her disappointment. She looked at Owain, her smile more genuine, as her eyes twinkled. “Shall we continue our walk?” She asked as her mother disappeared towards the house. “Or we could sit down over there?” She pointed to a bench that was almost concealed from view, near one of the high hedges that surrounded the rose garden.

"I did! I did!" Owain confirmed when asked about what he had been doing. "It was actually rather interesting. Not to you, I'm sure, as you must have seen and heard of all these things countless times."

Owain pondered a long moment. "I think I'd like to walk with you, my lady." They talked of all the little things, of art and poetry and the world. Owain idly plucked a rose and handed it to Marissa. He didn't say anything. He just gave her the flower.

At length, he finally spoke again. "I have enjoyed getting to know you greatly."

Marissa took the rose, and smiled happily, breathing in its aroma. They had been speaking genially for a while, and had covered many topics, but then they had fallen silent. She looked back at the house briefly, wondering when her mother would return, before returning her gaze to Owain’s just as he began to speak. His words made her smile even more.

“It has been more than a pleasure getting to know you, your Grace.” Unlike her mother, it was hardly fitting for her to address him as Owain, however much she might wish too. “I wish we had longer…” She trailed of, as she gazed into his eyes, before she turned slightly away, blushing.

She sat quietly for a moment, her eyes slowly returning to her companion. “I hope if you find yourself in Tartarus again, that you come and visit us.” She played lightly with the rose between her fingers. “I would like for us to remain…” Her heart sank slightly at her forthcoming choice of word. “…friends.”

"I will return and call on you again." Owain said reassuringly. "In the meantime, I do plan to write to you. You have made quite an impression."

“I would like that very much.” Marissa smiled, feeling happier than she had for a few days. The thought that he was not as unaffected by her made her feel comfortable, and yet at the same time, it felt different to how it had felt with others. “The thought that you are planning to come back pleases me greatly.” She looked into his eyes, before having to look away, a faint blush colouring her cheeks.

She gazed down at the rose in her hands, watching as she twirled it in her fingers gently. She pondered for a moment how this conversation made her feel, the words of her sister whirling around in her head, proven wrong by this conversation. “I hope that when you return, you are able to spend some more time with us. I know that Mama would be honoured to have you here as a guest of the family.” I would love that too, she thought with a smile.

"I intend to, certainly." Owain said quietly. "Unfortunately, I must take my leave for now." He bowed to Marissa and took her hand in his, kissing it gently. It wasn't a perfunctory, courtly kiss. He let his lips linger upon the fair flesh of her hand. Then he rose, smiled, and moved to take his leave of the household.
...
Owain did indeed write to Marissa, speaking to her about topics of all kinds, religion, philosophy, politics, life. He even visited sometimes, whenever he was abroad. Things went on in this way for over a year and as the year progressed any possible doubt about his intentions vanished. Still, nothing he wrote or said to her was gushing or inappropriate. He remained always the gentleman.
...
It was exactly two years after he had first met Marissa that Owain found himself on a visit to her family. However, it was neither Marissa or Lavinia he had come to see this time. Owain had asked to speak to the Duke in private.

The Duke of Lorm at in his study, one of his favourite places to hide away from the rest of the family when he did not want to be disturbed. He knew that his wife was in her favourite sitting room, which was the other side of the library. Sitting behind a large desk, in a comfortable leather chair, he read the rest of the morning paper, catching up with the event around the world.

A knock at the door, dragged his attention from the news, and he called for the person to enter. He was not surprised to see Jenkins standing in the doorway. Behind him, through the gap, Philip Devenish could see the young man he was expecting.

“Your Grace, the Duke of Tasat is here to see you.” The elderly man intoned.

The Duke nodded. “See him in, Jenkins.”

As the butler headed off back to the door and the guest waiting just inside, Philip folded up the newspaper, and placed it on the desk in front of him, and the rose from his seat, ready to greet Owain.

The young man was lead to the door by Jenkins, who stood aside to let him pass into the room. The Duke was already waiting, as Owain arrived, his hand outstretched in greeting.

“Good afternoon, your Grace.” He shook his hand and then indicated for Owain to take a seat, as he walked over to his own, and settled himself into it. “It is a pleasure to see you again. We always enjoy your visits, none more so than Marissa I believe.” He gave the man sitting opposite a warm smile.

* * * * *

Elizabeth, who always seemed to know when people were arriving at the house, rushed out of the rear of the house, rushing towards the rose garden, where she had seen Marissa walk off to earlier. The young woman, now herself eighteen, ran across the lawn and stopped as she reached her sister.

“He’s here!” She called, making Marissa look up from the book she was reading. “He’s with Papa now.” Elizabeth finished breathlessly.

Marissa smiled nervously. “Do you really think he has come to ask for my hand in marriage?” Deep in her heart she knew he had, but something was stopping her truly giving into her belief. Her parents both liked Owain, her mother positively gushed over him every time he visited.

Laughing merrily, Elizabeth nodded. “Why else would he have come, silly?” She wrapped her arms around her sister, holding her tightly. “I’m finally going to get rid of you.” Her laughter once more rang out around the garden. “Come on, let’s go wait with Mama, I’m sure she’s wearing out the carpet with her pacing.”

The two girls, arms linked together made their way back into the house, entering there mother’s sitting room through the French windows from the garden. And rightly enough, they saw her pacing back and forth along the length of the room, stopping every now and then to see if she could hear anything coming from the slightly opened door that led to the library.
Lavinia looked over at her daughters as they entered. “Oh, this is too much.” She shook her head sadly. “Your father really needs to keep his study door slightly ajar.” She moved over to one of the couches and sat down with a sigh. “I just hope they don’t take too long.” She looked up at Marissa and smiled. “This is so exciting.”

The youngest girl released her sister’s arm and continued to laugh lightly. “Oh, Mama, you are in a worse state than Issi, and it’s her future at stake.” She turned to Marissa suddenly, her face apologetic. “I meant that in a nice way.” Her creased brow disappeared as Marissa smiled at her, not in the least offended.

“I just hope your father doesn’t say anything to put him off.” Lavinia muttered mostly to herself.

Marissa sat herself in a chair, her fingers fidgeting with her book. “I’m more concerned with Gehenna not giving her blessing.” She slumped in the chair, a worried look in her eye.

The Duchess shook her head. “I know she is as pleased about this match as we are.” She stood up, and walked over to the couch her oldest daughter was sitting on and sat down beside her, taking her hand in hers. “You know, she has already giving her consent, should he offer. She told your father, that as long as he was happy with the match, she would give her blessing to the marriage.”

Marissa’s smile reappeared, as the three women sat in the sitting room, waiting for the audience between the Duke of Lorm and the Duke of Tasat to be completed.

Owain smiled as he stepped into the study. He shook hands with Philip and then took the indicated seat. "Good evening, Your Grace. It is actually about the Lady Marissa that I wished to speak with you." He spoke as though they didn't both already know exactly what he was going to ask. "As you know, I have seen much of your daughter over the last two years."

Pwain paused a little, taking a breath before he continued. "Your Grace, I am in love with your daughter. I am here to ask for your blessing in asking her to be my wife. I have already obtained the blessing of my mother and of my liege lady, Her Royal Highness, Nianki ni Gwydion, Grand Duchess of Shieldcrest."

Owain waited for the man's answer. He was already fairly certain what it would be. Still, the mere fact that it wasn't set in stone yet ate at him. The nearly immeasurable instants seemed like eternities as he waited mere seconds for Philip to speak.

Philip paused for a moment after hearing Owain’s declaration of his intentions, not at all surprised by it. He had liked the young man from his first meeting, and he knew that his wife was positively enraptured with him. She often spoke of the idealness of the Duke for Marissa, even if he himself had not been too sure. He had been expecting another Lord Hardcastle, but he had been wrong, and over the last two years the man before him had impressed him greatly.

“Your Grace, your conduct around my daughter has been exemplary, and a father could not wish for a more suitable husband for his little girl. The last two years have proven your dedication to her and hers to you.” He smiled warmly at Owain. “Lady Marissa’s mother and I would be honoured for you to apply to her for her hand in marriage. The match has already been given the blessing of Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Gehenna.”

He stood up from his chair and walked around the desk and presented his hand to the Duke of Tasat. “I wish you good luck, Your Grace, and if my daughter is not foolish, which I do not believe her to be, I wish you both a long and happy marriage.”

Owain paused a long moment, a tad overwhelmed and unsure what to say. "Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you." He rose slowly. "May I go ask her now?" he asked.

Assuming he was granted leave, Owain moved swiftly towards the other side of the library, looking for Marissa. When he saw her, he walked swiftly in her direction. Nodding only briefly to Lavinia and Elizabeth, Owain fell immediately to one knee, reaching into his jacket for the ring. Smiling nervously, he presented Marissa with an engagement ring of the highest quality. "My dearest lady, would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

Philip watched from his study door, as Owain walked through the library towards his wife’s sitting room, a smile on his lips. He liked the young man, the fact that he was a duke only partly registering in his mind. He wanted his children to be happy and settled, and he had a very good feeling about Marissa and Owain, their wait had more than proved how much they meant to each other. As the young man disappeared through the far door, he sat down in his chair. He would congratulate them officially in a little while.

* * * * *

Marissa’s opened wide with happiness as Owain walked through the door. So focused on him was she, that she failed to see the huge smiles on the face of her mother and sister. Her smile disappeared slightly, as she watched Owain go down on one near in front of everyone, but it was soon replaced again, as nothing could make her happier than hearing the words that he uttered.

She stared down into his eyes, her own brimming slightly as tears threatened. She nodded her head slightly, her smiling growing. Rather quietly, but loud enough to be heard. “Yes. I would be honoured to be your wife.” As he slipped the ring on her finger and rose from the floor, she stood with him and threw her arms around him, and kissed him. “I love you,” she whispered so only he could hear, as their lips parted.

Behind him, she could hear her mother squeal with delight, and Elizabeth clapped her hands together enthusiastically, both beaming with happiness. The sound of the excitement brought Philip from his study, and he held his wife’s hand, smiling at her, as he whispered. “Only two more to go.”

Owain kissed her back. "I love you too, Issi."

((End here?))

[ooc: I think this is a suitable place to stop. We've reached our goal.]