It was nice, Hearth deciding, being outside with her brother, riding horseback, and enjoying the other's company. Doing this sort of thing was a treat for the youngest daughter of House Stone – for Hearth, who spent most of her time locked in her tower, painting, it was a challenge to go outside, where all those people awaited, by herself. Having Raif to talk to made her feel a little braver, protected – there was something about his demeanor that made him easy to be around, easy to talk to. She was quick to nod her head and smile when he warned her not to do what he had just done – of course, she wasn't brave enough to try such a thing anyway. "I-I p-promise," she assured, with a firm nod – she would never do something that would make her family worry about her anyway, not if she could help it.
When he asked about her marriage, and if father had picked anyone yet, she froze for a second, as if her being married off was news to her. But then she remembered – oh, right, the marriage. It was something she tried to forget about, and for most of her days, the knowledge stayed tucked away, in the back of her head, where it wouldn't bother her, or make her anxious, during everyday tasks.
"N-Not y-yet..." she murmured softly, shaking her head to the contrary. "H-He... seems to be h-having some t-trouble d-d-deciding..." And it made sense, she supposed – his marriage, to their mother, had been arranged, hadn't it? He'd never been with any other woman but the High Lady. But with Hearth – well, how many suitors had he invited to the castle, only to brush them away? Some of them had been nice, others had been standoffish at best... She supposed that he was studying them for computability, or something, but Hearth truly felt the whole ordeal would be a lot easier to deal with if she could just get used to one person.
"B-But h-he w-wants h-him to be f-from a house... o-o-outside of F-F-F..." She stopped to take a deep breath, as she sometimes had to do when her words got struck in her throat. "...outside of F-F-Fallial," she finished, biting her lip. She had almost forgotten – Father thought it would be good for her, to see some different sights, so that maybe she would grow more independent and strong. It didn't matter if the youngest stayed in the House or not – to Rhys, marrying her off to a noble house of a province other than Fallial would be a good way to expand his connections and friendship with other nobles, or something like that, he had said. Hearth didn't really understand it, but if it made Father happy, how could she refuse? It was not her place to do so.
She was quiet for a moment. The whole time she spoke, she had been staring intently ahead at the road, pretending to pay attention, but really, she was lost in the twisted reality of her situation. Talking about it had brought her fate to light – that she was to be married off, most likely outside of Fallial if Father could find someone suitable, and that she might not be able to live in House Stone anymore, or even in her home province anymore, if things went according to her father's plan. She loved him dearly, so how could she refuse him? But still... but still...
Suddenly, Hearth looked over to Raif, searching him for a second, before finally confiding, "But I... I..." She took another deep breath, to sort out the words, letter by letter, writing them out in her head, testing them mentally before saying them, "But I... d-don't think I w-want to leave h-h-home." It was a horrible thing to admit, and she wished she could've taken her words back – because it was blasphemy, to speak out against what her father truly and honestly wanted for her.
She shook her head, wanting nothing more than to retract her words. "N-No, t-that's n-not..." She tried to take them back, but she knew that whatever she said after this wouldn't take back the things she said. Hearth bit her lip again – why was it so easy for some people to talk about anything, when she couldn't even convey a simple idea without pondering it over a spell? "F-Forget I s-s-said a-anything," she mumbled, so softly that one could barely hear her request anyway. As usual, whenever she tried to speak, she always ended up wishing that she had never said anything in the first place.