It was mid-morning when Marianne awoke.
Quickly dissipating visions of a dream’s end leapt from her mind into oblivion, but Marianne Newhook thought it likely that her sleep had been full of images of red wine and flexing flesh, from the way she felt even warmer than she had the previous, brutal evening. The coolness of the night had given way to a wave of heat in Castle Greyrook, and Marianne’s room was no exception.
Marianne peeled herself up from the sheets, noting how they seemed a touch damp with sweat. She swung her legs from the furs and sat up, looking out the window. Gandora City was alive once more, the din of marketplace hagglers and rolling wagons holding court in the air.
Her nude form slid from the bed and over her knickers, that had been discarded in the night and deposited on the floor. The heat and the dissatisfied malaise that held sway with Marianne the previous night proved too difficult to sleep with, and so she had to resort to other methods of stilling her hot blood. It was easy for Marianne to wrestle with her own thoughts when she was alone – and she frequently was. Perhaps it wasn’t good for her to be spending all this time alone in her room. She didn’t feel rested, she felt exasperated, exhausted, and altogether dissatisfied. That was becoming her dominant state of being, Marianne noted.
Marianne shut the window, and then pivoted to open her closet. A myriad of colorful light dresses, tights, and leggings were revealed to her. Marianne quite liked wearing dresses, about as much as Victor enjoyed seeing her in them, and so they made up the majority of her wardrobe. She pulled a small drawer at the bottom open and retrieved a fresh set of simple black panties, which she quickly pulled up her legs. Then, Marianne reached past the dresses and took a long, light green, silk robe from the rack, throwing it around her body. She pulled it closed with the ribbon on the front before retrieving a second black ribbon to pull her hair up into a slapdash bob. Then, she pushed the door open.
The Lotus Room was a pleasant common area that joined four rooms together – one master bedroom, and three supporting ones. The master bedroom belonged to Farelia and Clement, though it was used sparingly. These days, Farelia was hardly at court and as a result, the room seemed untouched save for a few spare pieces of clothing. The common space was characterized by a pair of long light green couches that faced one another, with a low table of darkened wood in between. Closer to Marianne’s door was a higher oak table, complete with four identical wooden chairs, one of which currently was being used by Sharra Darly.
Sharra’s shock of light red hair curled down the sides of her head. As her bright emerald eyes flickered to look at Marianne, she could see the splash of freckles that raced across her small, pale, nose. Sharra was exceptionally beautiful, Marianne thought, to the point where she was jealous to attend any courtly event next to her. Luckily, she rarely did so.
The redheaded Sharra was from the Bonecoast, an icy seaside city surrounded by dense forests and empty tundras alike. Sharra was fiercely loyal and believed in a man’s honor as much as she seemed to believe that most men had none. She demanded to be sent away when it came out at the courts of the Bonecoast that her father had bedded a young debutante – a friend of Sharra’s, no less. In Sharra’s mind, Lord Byron Darly had not just betrayed her mother, but his entire house and family. So, Sharra found herself at Castle Greyrook and the Queen pressed her into service as one of Farelia Newhook’s handmaidens.
Marianne supposed that made them kindred souls, in some fashion. Both were tall girls who had left their homes behind, fleeing the infidelities of others in search of more honorable locales. She wasn’t sure that Castle Greyrook was truly that, yet, but she was pleased to be away from the halls of Victor’s betrayal, and she was pleased that Sharra was with her.
The pale girl was sitting in the wooden chair with a single leg pulled up. She wore a simple white and short night dress with long thin sleeves that ended at her wrists in a flare. Sharra hadn’t bothered with shoes yet this morning, Marianne noted as the redhead reached for a large platter in the center of the table. Breakfast had been delivered by the castle – a plate of blueberries and raspberries, served with a sweet cream. To drink, there were tall glasses of minty water. It looked as though they’d also carried ice in them, but the heat of the morning had left the ice meek and small as it drifted through the cups.
Marianne took light steps toward the table and eagerly picked up a glass of water before downing it. She’d been parched since she woke, and the crisp feeling of the cool liquid gliding between her lips and down her tongue was as satisfying as nearly anything else this Gandoran summer day. She pulled the cup away with a refreshing coo, returning the now-empty cup to the tray.
Sharra raised an eyebrow as she looked at her friend. “Thirsty girl.” she teased lightly in a soft voice. Sharra could frequently sound brash, but her tone was quite gentle this morning.
“It’s so hot, I could hardly sleep.” Marianne whined as she slumped into the chair opposite Sharra. That was partially true.
“That’s a shame, considering you had plenty of time.” Sharra responded. She was taking on a decidedly motherly tone, one that reminded Marianne of home. A pause followed, and Marianne didn’t comment. “You didn’t come to the party.”
Marianne slumped slightly. Sharra couldn’t really be surprised, could she? “No. I didn’t.” Marianne replied in a muted tone. “How was it?”
Sharra shrugged. “It was fine. Full of drunk and loud men, so if that’s your thing, then…” she trailed off. “Nyrene certainly seemed to find someone she…enjoyed.” Sharra finished with a snort.
Marianne had to chuckle at that. That wasn’t surprising either. Perhaps she should have gone. It wouldn’t have been so bad, would it? Watching Nyrene drink and prance about with whichever knight tickled her fancy, scrutinizing every party-goer with Sharra…that could have been fun. Great fun, even. Instead, she’d stayed inside – thinking about Victor.
She must have worn her musings on her face. Sharra looked at her with worried green eyes, and cocked her head to the side with a tsk escaping from her lips. “Oh, Mari.” she cooed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Marianne said, breathily. “It’s just, I don’t know. It’s been a hard few weeks for me, I suppose.” her hands found their way to her lap, holding one another. “I miss home.” she lied, but the lie didn’t fool Sharra Darly for a moment.
Sharra cocked her head to the side again. “You miss that boy.” she corrected. Sharra knew Victor’s name – she knew everything about what had happened. Before Marianne’s arrival at Greyrook, Farelia had filled Nyrene and her in on all the awful details, and then Marianne filled in the gaps for them when she came to the city. It really wasn’t any use hiding it from her.
Still, she refused to dignify Victor with his name or his title as a knight. Sharra had very little patience for dishonorable men, Marianne knew.
“You can’t go on like this, Mari. Letting that boy dictate how you feel every day when he’s no longer yours isn’t healthy. He’s a scoundrel. Put him out of your mind.” Sharra said, almost hissing. Her voice had elevated in tone significantly, as it always did when Sharra felt impassioned – and that was frequent.
Marianne exhaled. “I know. It’s just…it’s hard, Sharra. It’s hard.” she looked down at her hands. “He meant a lot to me. And it all happened so suddenly, I just…”
Sharra’s expression softened a bit as her friend trailed off. “I know.” she responded softly, almost in a whisper. “It’s easier said than done.” she sat back and groaned. “I just hate seeing you like this, Mari. I want to see you laugh! I want you to get what you want from life. Is staying in your room all day, every day, really what you want? It doesn’t feel good to wallow like this. Trust me, I know.”
“I know!” Marianne responded quickly. She was exasperated. She knew Sharra was right, she’d thought as much innumerable times over the past weeks. Marianne found brief distractions, that much was true, but they never held. Her thoughts always returned to Victor. Not the one that bedded the serving girl, but the sweet one who helped her with her studies on those many impassioned nights. Oh, how she missed that. She missed him. “I just don’t know how to move on. I really, truly, don’t. It’s like I had so much, and now I have nothing.”
Sharra issued her an incredulous look. “That’s not true.” she insisted. “You’re beautiful. You could have a man that’s a hundred times the person that boy ever was. Trust me, let yourself get distracted.” Sharra’s bright green eyes danced with passion. “You won’t regret it. You’ll find some tall, handsome, kind man, and everything else will fall into place. Pending my approval, of course.” she finished, adding a wry grin.
Marianne had to chuckle at that. Sharra had given up trying to screen men for Nyrene – it was neither useful nor necessary – but she had to imagine that she’d have a good eye for people. Well and truly, she wanted to move on. It was challenging. “Of course.” Marianne responded finally after a silent pause. “I’m just afraid of getting distracted by the wrong thing.” Jason Algrave’s face filled her mind. “How do I know how not to get hurt again?” Marianne frowned.
Sharra looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I guess you can’t. You won’t.” Sharra advised. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t take that chance, Mari. You have nothing to lose but those painful memories. Let yourself be courted by honorable, dashing men. See how you feel.” she popped a cream-lathered blueberry between her lips. “And before everything, consider what you want. You might not always know, but you always need to be searching. And right now, you’re not searching.” Sharra finished with a teasing tone and a wink.
That earned a smile from Marianne. Sharra was very sweet, and she made good points. “I’ll try.” Marianne responded, and then she reached out for the raspberries.
The door to Nyrene Pryce’s room swung open. Sir Kent Bragg appeared in the doorway with an unsure look on his face and a shock of disheveled straw-blonde hair. He looked at both Sharra and Marianne with a sheepish expression and grumbled a soft “morning” before stepping into the room. He wore a simple green tunic that hugged his slender frame, and plain brown riding pants. He was barefoot.
Nyrene appeared behind him with an equally bedraggled appearance. She followed her paramour into the common room, rubbing her eyes beneath her dark bangs. The young noblewoman was dressed only in a long maroon tunic that had a plunged, slightly-torn neckline with black trimmings, the hem of which drifted down to her mid-thigh. It originally belonged to some man, Marianne assessed, but it wasn’t clear whether or not that man was Kent. It seemed too large.
Farelia’s dark haired lady-in-waiting stretched up on her toes to lay a quick, soft, kiss on Kent’s cheek. “Bye.” she said in a groggy voice, and suddenly Kent had slinked from the room, into the halls of Castle Greyrook. Nyrene turned and yawned a yawn that melted into a wry grin as she crossed the room to join her friends at the table. “So…” she murmured sleepily. “How’d you guys sleep?” Nyrene finished with a small grin, her voice soft and raspy.
“Just fine.” Sharra said quickly. “I did, at least. Marianne had some trouble, apparently.” she shot Marianne a mischievous look across the table as Nyrene drank deeply from the water. “I think she needs to come to the next party, whenever that may be. She’s spent far too much time in here, thinking-”
“Thinking about Victor.” Nyrene said before coughing a small cough. She seemed a bit hungover. “Yes, I’m in agreement…” she added before yawning again. Suddenly, her eyes shot open with an expression of realization. “Oh, wait! I remember now!”
Sharra raised her eyebrow. “What?”
“Last night…do you remember that guy I was talking to? Duncan Sarney?”
“Duncan Sorely” Sharra corrected. “Yes, he was on campaign with the Prince. Kent wasn’t pleased you spent so much time laughing at his quips, Nyrene.”
Nyrene waved the comment off. “He doesn’t own me.” she said, unconcerned. “Yes, Duncan. He told me that there’s going to be another party – Prince Jason is having some friends over to his place in Misthallow, in the country? It’s not too far. Anyway, he told me I could come, and I’m sure I could bring you two.” she looked to Marianne.
“I’m not so sure-” Marianne began.
“We’d love to!” Sharra stated quickly, cutting her off and sitting up in her chair. She turned to her friend. “Mari, lets not have any more sorrow-laden mornings like this.” her lips drooped into a frown. “It’s getting old.”
Marianne sighed. She really didn’t want to go out to watch a bunch of smarmy noblemen drink and cajole and do largely what they please. She thought of Victor, and then of Jason.
Gods, Jason was handsome wasn’t he? That magnificent thick black hair of his that flowed down the back of his head, that cocksure look that seemed to be perpetually plastered on his face. And goodness was he tall and strong. Marianne was not short, for a girl, but Jason Algrave seemed to absolutely tower over her in the courtyard. She thought of standing in front of him, his amused gaze tilted slightly downward, his sapphire gaze plunging into her.
Either the expression on Marianne’s face obviously belied her thoughts, or Nyrene Pryce developed the ability to read minds. “You know Sharra, Marianne was definitely fawning over Prince Jason yesterday. I don’t blame her, he’s quite yummy, isn’t he?”
Marianne blushed a bright red, and her face shot up. “I didn’t-”
“Stop it.” Nyrene cut her off. “You need this party. Who knows what could happen? You could dance, you could sing, you could fall in love. You could get railed. Now wouldn’t that be nice? How long has it been, now, Mari?”
Marianne didn’t respond, she just sat their agape. As unsatisfied as Marianne had been these past months, she did not want to talk about this with Nyrene. She and her were quite different – she couldn’t imagine living the way she did, trying men continuously, seemingly. She didn’t judge her friend for it, of course…but to Marianne, sex meant more than that. Sex was a continuation of a spark, a culmination of a beautiful connection between her and a dashing, kind, soul. Between her and Victor.
Sharra seemed to agree. With a stutter, she said “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Nyrene. Let’s just get her out there, and help her have fun. Keep her mind off things. She doesn’t need to hop into bed with the first man who speaks to her.”
Nyrene shrugged. “You never know. Might help. Might be what Marianne wants at the end of the night. Nothing keeps my mind off the stresses of life than getting my mind fucked out of me.” she finished with a grin.
“Well-”
“Okay.” Marianne stated, almost loudly.
Sharra and Nyrene fixed her with confused looks. “Okay?” Sharra asked.
“Okay, I’ll go.”
Marianne would go, and get it over with. How much could it hurt? She didn’t want to go, but one night of sipping wine next to Sharra and giggling about every boneheaded man in the vicinity might be better than sweating out painful memories alone in her bedroom. She couldn’t lie to herself there, it truly wasn’t satisfying. Marianne needed more from her life at Greyrook – that much was clear.