By the pricking of my thumbs...

“We are nearly at our destination, Lady Faleon.”

The low timbre of the guard roused Vivienne from the half wakening, half dreaming state she had been lulled into through the course of the journey.

"Thank you Gregory."

Vivienne nodded, straightening slowly as her spine creaked in protest at the abuse it had taken for the 2 days she and her escorts travelled from Ryvan to Keniver. The dull ache in her lower back seemed a minor inconvenience compared to the greater pain in both head and heart; the former throbbing from thinking far too long and hard about the events that had created the latter.

Amber eyes narrowed as she forced herself into an upright position, sliding her palms over the heavy wool of her skirts to smooth any deep wrinkles. The motion was repetitive , meant to be soothing, but the dull ache in her breast still continued. It was her father who had put it there, with the simple enough request that she travel to Keniver to visit Alessa Casteel and see that she was well. Vivienne had not asked, but she bitterly assumed that were she to allude to the opposite, her father would swoop right down as if his life depended on it. For reasons completely lost to her, her father was infatuated with the woman.

Yes it was true she was fair of face and her long slim limbs likely inspired many a man’s fantasy regarding them wrapped around his own frame. But for all of that she was a commoner that had married into the world of the nobles. If her father wanted fishmonger’s widows Vivienne would happily see him sow his oats as often as he liked at the ports, but when he returned she would see it be alone.. There had only ever been one mistress of the manor at Ryvan, her own lady mother leaving this earth during Vivienne’s birth. Vivienne was not prepared to give up her title, her rank, everything she had fought to gain to some fisherman’s daughter turned lady simply for pushing out two half blood brats.

Slender hands drummed an angry staccato rhythm against the sides of the couch, small feet stamping against the bottom of the couch till they burned, her fingers cramped and her palms throbbed with a dull, painful heat.

When she recovered, Vivienne inhaled slowly, mentally chiding herself for momentarily lacking the poise and aplomb of a highborn lady, and stooping to the level of nothing she considered her lovely, unsuspecting nemesis.

She exhaled even more slowly, counting to 15 before her eyes opened, the pale gold touched with darker rings around the iris like a hunting cat’s,

Control, Vivi, she thought. Keep control of yourself and you will regain control over the situation and over Father and Grayson soon enough. Patience darling..patience. You can only squash one bug at a time before you appear déclassé…

Lush lips gently moved, mouthing the words to herself as the couch stopped abruptly. The velvet of the curtain slid through Vivienne’s fingers as she pushed it aside to peer out of the couch. She could see the gates just ahead of them most of the guars remaining nearby as per her fathers orders no doubt, two men going ahead to alert Lady Casteel of their arrival.

Alessa couldn't help but merely watch as Dennys seemed to drift off into his own little world for a moment. She hadn't a clue what had capture his attention so thoroughly but she wasn't overly concerned. Time was time regardless of if it was spent in companionable silence or playing hide and seek.

His questioning tone drew her from her thoughts and her eyes drifted over his face. "What is it, darling?" she asked, fingers rising to brush strands of his dark hair off his forehead. He looked so much like his father, every time he smiled or frowned or offered that questioning stare. It caught her entirely off guard at times and at others it was quite obvious.

The request did not come as too much of a surprise, she knew it was only a matter of time before brother followed after brother. She wasn't sure what it was that had triggered the desire but she couldn't very well deny him. Before she had a chance to respond, however, a voice from across the courtyard caught her attention.

"My lady," the well known voice of her most trusted servant, Jerval, met her ears and she knew instantly that whatever news he bore was unpleasant. She sat up rather quickly, peering at him in the twilight.

"What's wrong?" she asked trying to keep concern from her voice and not cause Dennys to become alarmed.

"A visitor, my lady," Jerval stated with a look on his face that suggested he'd just licked a lemon. "Lady Vivienne Faleon will be arriving momentarily."

It took all the willpower Alessa had to contain a string of curses that threatened to spill from her mouth and remind the world that she'd grown up not in the courts of Trymere but the docks of Keniver. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath and then turned a warm smile on Dennys. "We'll discuss this later, alright?" she offered leaning down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. "We have an unexpected visitor," she explained.

She rose smoothly to her feet, offering out a hand for her son to take. "When she arrives see her to the drawing room in the west wing, I'll be down as soon as possible."

The whispers of her slippers across the stones of the main hall seemed to be filled with much more than the gentle swish swish that should have been mindless and soothing. Instead that subtle sound seemed to mock her as she moved along after the servant who had shown them in. They said that a simple peasant girl had risen through the ranks of nobility on her back instead of by blood. And she would rise even higher if she married Edward. That latter thought caused Vivienne’s full mouth to curve as if she had bitten into a lemon mistaking it for an apple. Slim hands smoothed invisible dirt away from the graceful folds of fabric flowing over her hips so she would have an excuse to keep her hands momentarily busy.

That was not going to happen she attempted to assure herself, pausing with a soft intake of breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it on 3 counts. Alessa was a pebble in her shoe but the shoe could be emptied and the pebble discarded. You merely needed to wait for the correct moment to make the move with discretion and poise so you did not end up tumbling head over heels and flashing the entire world your intentions.

She exhaled again, and then paused as the servant who had left her and her and her entourage to alert Alessa returned. Vivienne offered a smile as welcoming as any gently bred lady. “I do hope we have not caught the Lady Casteel at an improper time. My father simply wished for me to visit with her a bit and see if she has any need of anything. We are all neighbors after all. “

He nodded. “Lady Vivienne, if you will follow me please. The Lady Casteel requests that you await her in the west wing drawing room. She will attend to you shortly. Your guards may wait in the servant’s quarters. They will be looked after.”

Blonde waves glistened beneath the rays of sunshine streaming in through the windows as Vivienne dipped her head gently. Showing the courtesy deserved to on who was her elder if nowhere near her better.

“Thank you. That will suit very well. “

The older man offered a slight bow before leading her down to the drawing room. She was left alone after a few moments after Jerval had made sure she was comfortable enough with the fire blazing in the hearth. He was polite, efficient, but something in his bearing made her quite suspicious of his true fondness for her visit.

Vivienne’s smile curved, deepening into soft feminine laughter as she had a seat, slim hands extended towards the flames to warm them. She much doubted that the lady Casteel would be any happier to see her but that was her misfortune. She could have avoided this masquerade of friendship and camaraderie if she had been honest with Edward and denied him firmly, leaving no doubt to her feelings on the matter of becoming the next Lady of Ryvvan. But no, Vivienne thought angrily, she had to lead him about like a dog on a leash with coy games.

Vivienne had no doubt that it was all Alessa’s doing. She knew the power women truly held despite men’s notions that they were the ones in control. A sweet smile and the promise of endless possibility in a pair of sparkling eyes beneath long lashes were a greater weapon than any spear man could fashion. And despite her animosity towards the other woman, she could admit she was lovely and the two little boys she was mother to would be a temptation to any man whose sons were such an obvious disappointment time and time again.

The thought of her brothers raised both their images in her mind; Ian, strong and yet childish, unfocused, impetuous...not worthy to rule and Edward agreed. But he was controllable. Grayson however was not, and in her father’s blind dedication to tradition, he was next in line. But he was no better with his foolish ideals about men’s equality no mater whose blood ran through their veins. He believed in the possibility to elevate one’s status through hard work. Nonsense. Classes existed for a reason. Without everyone kept in their proper places it would be chaos.

Order had to be maintained. When in Rome… her lips curved faintly, ignoring the pang in her chest as she heard the door open and schooled her expression into neutral pleasantries. Caesar had also had great plans for the rejuvenation of an empire that was working perfectly well and he had found his reward on the end of a knife blade. Vivienne hoped for Gray’s sake he would not even see his coming….

Vivienne turned, pushing away the brief flow of memories of Gray teaching her to ride her first pony, of saving sweets for her from the kitchen when she was little. And of swearing to slay any demons and night boggles beneath her bed. She exhaled heavily, oferign a smile that felt strained despite her beliefs that it was the only way that Ryvvan could be kept within their family and run as it always had been, as was right.

A small tongue darted quickly over her lower lip, the tender pink skin feeling suddenly dry.

It was too long ago and things have changed…Forgive me God...I know all too well what I have done but better to ask for gorgiveness than permission...Goodbye Gray.

“Hello Lady Casteel….”

Dennys' blue eyes seemed very large as he gazed up at his mother, awaiting her verdict. He did not really think she would refuse, though some part of him that was wise beyond his years understood why she might. She didn't want to think about either of her sons going off to battle some day. But Dennys' desire burned like an abiding fire within him.

Alessa parted her lips, and Dennys held his breath - and then -

"My lady." Dennys instantly recognized Jerval, and seeing his mother's concerned reaction he too scrambled to sit up straighter on the grass. "A visitor, my lady."

Somebody named Lady Faleon... Dennys didn't recognize the name, but he peered up avidly into his mother's face, seeing the way her nose wrinkled just before she turned that decieving bright smile upon him.

"We'll discuss this later, alright?" Alessa murmured, and Dennys could only nod, glancing away to hide his keen disappointment. He took her hand when she stood, but as she turned to go Dennys pulled gently from her grip.

"I'm going to stay out for just a bit longer," he said in his quiet voice, which at times seemed far too calm for a nine-year-old. She'd probably wonder why, but Dennys gave her a soft reassuring smile to say that nothing was wrong. He watched her turn to make her way back into the Castle then Dennys, too turned away.

He knew exactly where he was going, and wandering footsteps soon brought him there. He leaned against the fence that surrounded the training fields, looping his thin arms loosely around the post. His twin was sparring now with another of his classmates, their wooden training swords clashing loudly. Daemeon's face was set in concentration and assured of his own skill both.

Dennys felt a pang of envy, but it soon dissolved into hopeful confidence. Soon, he told himself, Soon I'll be that way too. And as he watched the other boys hard at work, Dennys tried to tell himself that that really was what he wanted too.