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* Plot Information for Dharo

The intrigue that drives, and plagues, the Territory of Dharo has built and destroyed empires throughout the Territory; and everyone is eager for political power. The reign of Rheava Evesham has been challenged by these power struggles and even more so by the undercutting of power in her Court. The game of politics had bred the need for Spies within the Territory and they have become the backbone of the Queen's reign.
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Author Topic: Family Matters  (Read 92 times)


Offline Hamish Bullard

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    • descent2yellow
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      Graywarren Household

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Family Matters
« on: Nov 03, 19, 05:48:12 PM »
I’m getting too o-

No, no, he was only tired, that’s all. And with the weather being so poor, of course, there’d be trouble. There wasn’t even any reason for the thought; all he’d done was ask for an extra cushion. Perfectly reasonable, nothing to be disgruntled about, and maybe that’s what bothered him now. The man he’d asked had agreed far too readily with the request. Well, and maybe y’just couldn’t hide the ache then. His job t’do as ‘e’s asked, isn’t it?

“Thank you, lad.” Wincing as he returned to his seat, Hamish offered his thanks for the problematic cushion while berating himself for making two mountains out of one molehill. First, because he hadn’t even wanted to ask, no matter the discomfort and simplicity of his request, and second that it had then been speedily seen to. He was supposed to applaud competency and here he was feeling judged by it.

Abyss take me, I’m rambling.

With another sigh, what would probably be his third in thirty minutes, the man reached for the teapot by way of distraction and promptly frowned at the light weight of it. Checking his watch, he signaled a member of the staff over to ask for a refill and another cup. Lady Carlisle ought to arrive soon. It would never do to have her wait for tea on such a cold day. Especially not when he’d been sitting there for almost an hour. Ahead of schedule, thank you, she wasn’t late. He’d just arrived with more than enough time to spare. With the weather so dreary the past few days, he’d given himself plenty of time in case the roads were in rougher condition than the last report had promised. He’d also expected to ride a little slower, it being his first time out in a while.

He’d foolishly given the young mare her head in a rush of uncharacteristic exuberance. Her enthusiasm for getting out of her stall had been contagious. This being his first true day off in… several months possibly, he’d been easily swayed. He regretted it now and was sure he’d regret it even more when it came time to ride her back. It might be wiser to order a cab and send one of the young stablehands to pick her up tomorrow. Embarrassing, but better than arriving at midnight covered in mud from a fall. But he didn’t need to consider that until later, no, nor Prince Graywarren’s disapproval when he bowed out of drills tomorrow morning, which he was certain would happen. Nor the cellar stock, though… he’d stopped in on his way here after renting out a stall for his horse. Spent a pleasant bit of catching up with the vintner of the local winery and was wondering what the master would think of the new sample he’d been given.

He’d spent the time waiting for the duchess with papers spread across the table, nibbling from the tray of light biscuits they’d provided and considering how to word each overdue letter to his family. He’d finished one. Was halfway through another, and the rest ought to come more and more easily as he organised the details they’d all want to know. The only reason he didn’t send them all the exact same piece was that it hurt his heart not to put in the effort for each of his sisters and even both parents. That, and the more letters he sent out, the less likely anyone was to read all of them if ever he needed to include more significant information than how well the children had taken to his mother’s old broiled salmon recipe.

He had to be circumspect in any case, as it was frowned upon to bare your employer’s matters to anyone outside of their employ, but it had taken a great deal of willpower not to fill the pages with a mild rant about Prince Graywarren’s incompetences as an invalid. And this was after the man was mostly recovered and merely recuperating. Hamish could only imagine how many times the attending Healers must have left his room hissing dire threats about chains and horse tranquilizers when he was first injured. Although he was admittedly also somewhat relieved not to have seen the man at his worst, he still wished he might have been able to help him sooner. Or help the Healers in tying him down… Caught the man trying to sneak in a ride on his horse the other day.

Hamish could understand the sentiment, but he didn’t approve of giving in to the temptation. Not when it might delay or ruin the healing process.

Ah well, his concern today was for another family. And as it was nearing the meeting time now, he swept together his papers and capped his ink and vanished everything away to pull out the newspaper he’d picked up during his walk through the streets. Best not to look as though he’d been waiting overlong, or that he was squeezing her into a busy schedule. Wouldn’t never do to have Lady Carlisle thinking such things of a mere butler. Or for the butler to imply it. Even if they weren’t necessarily meeting as butler and duchess.

Turning the page, Hamish glanced about the small café for signs of the woman’s arrival before going back to an interesting article about a young jockey who was becoming something of a local celebrity. As he didn’t have any particularly unfortunate news to pass along, he wasn’t much troubled in his manner. And the atmosphere around him was a pleasant quiet. Cozy little place, he’d found.