Lady of the Cake (M)

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Accepting the water, she stared down at it with a frown and shifted uncomfortably at the notion, but was again, grateful for what he was trying to do. Peering up at him, she watched as he paced around the room after she whispered a soft, 'Thank you.' before glancing back down to the bowl.
The water looked like piss- even smelled a little weird, too. Perhaps it was just rusty well water, certaintly tasted like it, but she couldn't get much down, even with as little as their was. Realizing, since it didn't seem she was going to drink it all, she peered over at Aryn and approached him timidly behind.

"Can I not at least help you remove some of the cake?" she offered, realizing- really, that was the only nice thing she could do as payment for him, and her blue eyes sought to his.

[Cambie]

Aryn craned his neck up to see the barred window high above, streaming a thin ray of light into their lonely little cell. The light was fading fast though, and by all accounts it would be nightfall in an hour or so. It was too high for him to see out of though, and he certainly didn't have the energy to even try climbing.

Hearing her delicate footsteps behind him and then the soft mousy whisper of her voice, he slowly turned to regard her. His green eyes were almost imperceptible in the darkness of the cell, but it seemed as though he had a slight frown on his face. But after a brief moment of pensive silence he pursed his lips together, gave her a little affirmative grunt, and wordless nodded.

Though the Ironhand wouldn't admit it out loud, sitting back down was actually a giant relief for him. He sat up against the damp stone wall of the cell, one knee propped up and arm resting casually on it. The stump of an arm he kept at his side and as out of sight as possible.

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At his nod, she smiled hesitantly, then pulled a kerchief from her cloak. As she smoothed it across his face, removing the thickened crusty parts at first, which fell off in brittle clumps, he'd be able to feel how warm it still was from being tucked in close to her body, and how it smelled of her- though the perfume was subtle and it's scent could only linger for so long as the frosting that had dried and skinned over was reopened, and the heavenly scent of vanilla now crumbled away from his face.
Then, as she moved towards his brow, she was trying to be gentle and saw his swollen eye and studied it with a soft frown.

"That looks like it hurts."

And she moved to remove the cake gentle, some crumbled into his eye and she gasped lightly. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I was trying to be careful,"s he said, apologetically while holding onto the clothe and studied his face, making sure he was ok. "Shall I continue?" she asked, once she was sure he hadn't any more threats of cake crumbs entering his poor swollen eye. She just wished she had something to help him with that. Her brother had gotten a swollen eye once and he suffered with the bruise for at least a week. But she refocused herself on him, and once the eye was clear, she moved again,t his time over his other free eye that wasn't bruised, but the dust from the cake she was remvoving sprinkled again over that eye as she found herself laughing through the powder now dusting between them.

"Perhaps it's best if I don't. I fear all the cake icing and crumbs will blind you." And she gave him a gentle, blushing smile before lowering her gaze bashfully to her lap.

"We both must look quite a mess." she said, before peering back up towards him, blue eyes peering through a mess of cake and blonde hair. Though she probably faired better than he- her cloak took the brunt of it- but she was not about to remove her hood, nor the rest. It was much safer for him if she didn't- considering the cell wasn't all that big and it appeared as if they'd have to be this cozy, at least for a little while.

"And truly, I am sorry for all of this." She told him, still keeping eye contact. "But I am grateful, immensely for what you have done. I don't know what I'd do without your help."
Then lifting up the bowl she had been drinking earlier, she offered it over to him.
"Here, it doesn't taste the best, but there is some left if you wish to have some. You're probably more thirsty than I."

[Cambie]

Aryn sat still as the girl fussed over his face with that little kerchief of hers, letting her gently scrub away the dried frosting and flour from his rough skin. Her touch was surprisingly light as she brushed away the cake crumbs, little pieces of it tumbling down his face and into his lap with every wipe.

When she started going around his swollen eye he fought the urge not to flinch, though the corners of his face did twitch slightly everytime she pressed on something painful. That first flurry of flour and dust had him blinking and frowning, but the second one brought a thin smile to his face as well. When she burst out in soft laughter, he could not help but do the same, wrinkling his nose at the little cloud.

It was the first time he'd seen her show any sign of joy, and it was a pleasant surprise.

"Aye, it'd be a tragedy," he replied through his baritone chuckles, "to go all these bloody years without any problems, and then to be done in by a little pastry."

She was still hidden beneath the shadows of her thick cake-covered cloak, but in the moments when she intently brushed the cake off his face he was able to finally get a good look at her. She had blue eyes, but until now he hadn't realized just how blue they were, almost like glowing sapphires. She was a pretty little thing, if not for the gauntness of her cheeks that came from a hard life on the road, and if not for the melancholy in those same eyes.

"You need to laugh more," he decided out loud after she pushed the bowl of water in his direction. At first he was ready to push it right back to her, but there was a finality in her gesture that had him picking it up and drinking what little was left floating in the bottom. Immediately he grimaced.
"Ugh. You were NOT kidding. That's foul!"

He gave her one final grin before gesturing over to the pile of hay in the corner. Nothing in this prison was the least bit cozy, but that was by far the best of it.

"Nightfall's on us, girl. Best get some rest, looks like we might be in here for the long haul."

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Her blush was hidden behind layers of powdered on cake as she peered up bashfully into his gaze. But then when he accepted the water and positively gagged, she winced a bit, but there was still a hint of a smile.

"I tried to warn you, though I figured old well water might still be better than none at all." ANd then peering up into his swollen eye, she frowned.
"I do not think I could sleep," she said in earnest, shaking off his suggestion. "Not in a place like this, no." Tucking back her lips, she continued to look at his battered and still partially cake covered face.

"If you're tired, why not you take the hay?"

[Cambie]

From his spot against the wall, Aryn gave the prison a quick once-over. It wasn't the worst one he'd been in (Reajh had one particularly nasty prison that gave him the incentive to never return), but the conditions were cramped and leaky. The corner spot did look quite comfortable, but nonetheless he gave the girl a questioning look. There was something about sleeping on a soft bed of hay while she got uneven stones that didn't sit right with him.

"I'll take some of the hay, but the rest of it is yours," he said firmly and gruffly, though it was pretty obvious his tough demeanor was nothing more than a facade at this point. "That's not negotiable."

And gently brushing away the kerchief she had to his face, he grunted and pulled himself up and over to where the hay was stacked. Grabbing an armful of it was quite a chore considering he only had the one arm with which to work, but he was able to separate the hay into two partitions.

His portion was noticeably smaller than hers but he'd already laid his head down on it before she had a chance to protest. Closing his swollen eyes was the easiest thing he'd done all day. He opened them one last crack to peer over at her; his voice was softer this time, and he flashed one last smile to her from behind his beard. "At least lay your head down and try to rest. We'll figure something out in the morning. I promise."

It was only moonlight that filtered through that high window now, along with the ambient sounds of the evening. The day had taken a toll on him and, within minutes he fell asleep, his gentle rumbling snores joining in with the song of crickets outside.

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Kella would have protested if she could, but as she peered up at the small window in the cell and noted the twinkling of stars now forming int he sky, she realized the man might be right as weariness became her. Shifting onto her knees, she crawled over towards her side of the make shift bed and smiled a little to see he left her the larger half. It was nice knowing that, despite his rough exterior and that, well  he had just killed a few men today, that he was still looking out for a lady as a lady should be seen after- (or as best as he possibly could).

Though it was then she turned to ask him something that her breath caught in her throat as she noticed the gentle breathing as his chest raised and fell. Closing her lips, she gave a quaint smile in his direction as he slept. She supposed she could say thank you again at another time. Nestling into her own bed of hay, she found her eyes drifting back towards the window, to where the moon light spilled across the cell and illuminated the stone to look silver. It reminded her of a story she and Blaith had made up as children- that if you danced in the moonlight, you'd be able to dance clean up to the stars. The idea left a soft smile on her lips before soon her eyes grew heavy with sleep and she was drifting off to bed.

Though the night was cold and unforgiving in the Vanillean jail that by the time morning came, she had found herself nestled in beside her cellmate. She hadn't even realized she had done it. Perhaps she had thought Aryn was her brother when she was half asleep- and that in that moment, Blaith was normal again, things were normal, and she was not laying there, sleeping in the rotting corner of a jail cell with fleas and mouse droppings littering the floor, but in the soft beds of the castle in Turgall.

Either way, the girl rested peacefully, and warmly against the man, that was, until the sudden banging on the bars jolted her awake. Sitting up with a start, her eyes went towards the jail door.

"Hey, girly. Seems you've got a visitor."

The man jerked a thumb towards the end of the hall where Mrs. Armand was now standing, shifting her weight uneasily. Once the guard stepped aside, Mrs. Armand was guided towards the cell by another pair of guards as she stood before it, staring back at the girl with some mild scrutiny.

Kella had no idea what to make of the bake shop woman when she approached, but quickly rose to her feet, straw spilling down from her clothing.

"GIrl, if you could, please step up to the jail cell so I can see you better."

But at such a request, Kella took a step back instead, finding herself clutching onto her cloak as her hands trembled and began to warm with sweat. Why did the woman want to see her face? Did she still believe..
and then recalling what Mrs. Armand said when she had first entered town, fear gripped her hearts and she let out a small yelp of a gasp when the guard angrily banged on the cell door.

"Come on, girly, we ain't got all day." And to the woman standing next to him, he seemed to sneer, "I thought you said you knew 'er?"

"I did but I have to make sure!" Mrs. Armand snapped, for even she was getting a temper from the grumpy jail guard. And with a huff, she turned bck towards the cell at the pair of them- though she ignored the armless man in the corner and fixed her gaze back on Kella.

"Girl, if you could please- remove your hood..."

But clutching onto it, Kella found herself wordless as she shook her head and took another step away from the door.

[Cambie]

His dreams were sporadic that night, even in his deep slumber. Once during the night he stirred awake for a brief moment when a cold draft swept in through the window and settled down around him. In his half-conscious state, he barely registered that the girl had curled up against him; the warmth of her body pressed up against his was a welcome reprieve against the chill of the Vanille dungeon. He mumbled something incoherent and, within seconds, fell back asleep.

The banging at the jail door was what woke him, and he immediately let out a low groan. Headaches were always at their most painful first thing in the morning, and it certainly was no different in this prison cell. The swelling had gone down significantly during the night but was replaced by a purple-black splotch of a bruise ringing his half-lidded right eye. He felt every heartbeat pounding against the inside of his skull.

When he tried to sit up, the throbbing ache in his chest also shot pain throughout his body. In the night the gash across his torso had dried and crusted over, but its sting had not lessened any. It was the sort of cut that he'd seen lay other men low, especially if it became infected or gangrenous.

It took a few moments for the mercenary's blurry vision to adjust to the morning light, and by the time he was fully aware of his surroundings, Mrs. Armand was already standing up against the bars, intently peering in. He neither noticed the girl's frightened disposition or the fact that the baker's wife had eyes only for her.

"Not you again," he mumbled under his breath, though his voice bounced off the stone walls and carried down the hallway. Slowly and deliberately he climbed to his feet. With two ponderous footsteps he placed himself between the little old lady and his cellmate.

"Look, lady, leave the girl out of this eh? I knocked your damn cakes over. It was all me." He wiped off a small trail of sleep drool and leftover cake residue from the corner of his mouth. "If it makes you feel any better, the cake was delicious."

The guards gave him scowls and telling looks that threatened physical harm if he didn't shut his mouth and go back to the corner where he belonged. Aryn only returned their glares with a wide smile and a cheerful "Morning, boys."

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Mrs. Armand shot a glare to Aryn. "I was there. I remember the details quite vividly, thank you, but this is over a matter much more pressing than the loss of my cakes. And if my hunch is accurate, which it normally is, the identity of the girl within this cell might put this entire city in trouble."

Kella, lips still trembling, continued to back away from the door.
"Please.." she began to say, but her meek voice was easily ignored as Mrs. Armand pressed her cause.

"Don't you all know? The Duke of Turgall has been looking for his twin sister. She has gone missing since the whole start of this war." And as the woman's eyes fixed upon the girl she gestured. "Remove her hood and you'll see for yourself. Blue eyes, blonde hair... and I've seen her before- some of you may have too. They had frequented my bakery up until her disappearance. When I saw her earlier yesterday I could have sworn on her identity, but now I realize why she would hide. Clearly someone must be after her, and we must confirm if she is Kella Harmond or not - and send word to her brother swiftly if she is."

And there was a murmur through the guards.
"She does have blue eyes.."

"Though it's hard to see her through all that mess..."

"What was she doing with a man like that?"

"Do you think she's really the Duke of Turgall's sister?"
And more whispers had the entire jail coming alive.

"I wanted to be certain, so I asked looked at the hand drawn portait my son had sketched of the Duke and his sister, and I can swear by it that this girl must be Kella. Have a look." And she drug out the drawing from beneath her cloak and held it up for all to see. Turning it around, she showed it to the mana d woman int he cell.

"Now please girl, there's no need to be afraid any more. We're all here to help you," Mrs. Armand pressed, holding onto the picture, as she gestured. "Remove your cloak and we can confirm; and then contact your brother so you can return safely home. It would be nice to hear such a story having a happy ending in this time of war. ANd just think, you can even bring home some of my famous cookies to your brother."
And hopefully, the woman would get a reward...

[Cambie]

The look on the Ironhand's face was one of pure skepticism as he turned his gaze between the old little lady and his hooded companion. Even the guards were murmuring to each other as they stared uneasily at the skinny little girl, but they were so easily duped. He let out a low laugh and shook his head. Gesturing to the girl with his stump, he remarked in a disbelieving tone, "You're kidding me, right? This girl is the Duke of Turgall's twin sister? Are you stark raving mad?"

When Mrs. Armand held up that little charcoal sketch, he gave another scoff. It looked nothing like the girl! That face in the drawing was of a proud young noblewoman, not the timid, half-starved little waif that he knew.

Were they drunk? So she had blue eyes and blonde hair. Plenty of girls across the country had those features, and there was absolutely nothing to say that this particular street urchin was the sister of the Duke. The very thought of it was absurd.

But the more he looked between the cowering girl and the sketch, the more similarities began to surface in his mind. They had the same eyes, the same nose, the same mouth.

"No. No. NO. Bullshit."

The frown on his face grew deeper and deeper as he peered at her with a mixture of denial and anger. And as he kept looking, he almost felt his heart sink in his chest. If it was true, then she'd been under his nose this entire time...

By Angsar, he was so stupid! And he had helped her, fed her, got her to safety, only to have them both thrown into this prison cell. Now he would likely remain in this rat infested hellhole, perhaps hanged in a week, while she was sent back to her cozy palace. That reward would go to some other undeserving individual.

And she had known what he was looking for! He'd asked her!

His wordless expression was one of pure incredulity. His eyes said it all: "How? Why?"

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OOC: Trigger warning for language!

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As the truth was revealed, she realized she could hide it no more. With eyes all locked upon her, she slowly lifted up a hand and removed the hood from her face. Shamefully, she kept her gaze down cast, and despite the cake that crusted, it was evident that she and the girl in the sketch were one in the same, that this frail looking girl, dirty from her time on the road, was the Duke of Harmond's twin sister. And as the men all began to realize it, they were swearing among themselves.

"It's true," she said, her voice wavering and soft, so delicate in it's words that if her breath were made of glass, it would break. "I am the Duke's sister." ANd as the men were all fighting one another and finally having the sense to fetch a key for the door, no one would notice the solitaire tear that slid down her face.

She couldn't even look at Aryn. She couldn't even begin to know what he must think. And as the door swung open, the guards gestured for her to come out.
"Come now, girl. You are safe with us. Mrs. Armand and some of the guards will look after you until we can send word to your brother. Turgall ain't too far from here, and he should be relieved to see you are alive and well."

Though even as the door was opened, Kella did not go. Tears blurred her vision, so she wouldn't know where to walk in that moment anyway, and as Mrs. Armand tucked the drawing away, she was already busy making arrangements for the girl, for the guards, acting as if she owned the place- and no one seemed to pay a heap for Aryn's presence...
and no one seemed to notice at first Kella Harmond hardly wanted to comply, and that tears were streaming down her face and she was anything but happy. But the fools probably presumed she was elated to be found- no one could have suspected she was beginning to shake with fear.

And it wasn't until the guards were finally done sorting out this detail and that, that the head guard turned her way to observe her.
"Well come on now girl, or are you in too much shock to want to step out of prison? Come along," and as he reached out to grab her, Kella felt her legs give way and everyone gasped in shock as the woman fell. It was only then they remembered, most conveniently Aryn's presence and immediately, they all turned upon him like dogs.

"What the hell did you do to her you fucking pig?" the guard snarled as he slammed Iron hand against the cell bars. "Answer me or I'll make black and blue your other eye!"

Kella, too consumed with her own emotions, hadn't realized what was going on at first until Mrs. Armand stepped in to help the poor girl. Once Kella was on her feet and the woman, feigning to sooth her, she heard the guards slam the one-armed man against the bars again as she flinched back and cowered at their language. And to watch them treat him so on her behalf was more than she could bear, as Kellla moved forward and  threw herself onto Aryn's arm, clinging onto it and staring up at the guard with pleading eyes.

"Please! Do not punish him! None of this was his fault! He was simply trying to defend me and I-"
But the guard cut her off.

"But we watched you just faint away-"

"I'm a woman! We always faint away," she said, annoyance clear in her voice as she spoke through her teeth as tears still sparkled sharply in her eyes.  The guard, uncertain how to respond to a 'lady', hesitated in the moment until they heard the command. "Let him go."

"Let him go? But he's a criminal."

"He was not acting a criminal, but a hero." ANd the choice of words shocked them all.

"Hero?" the guard could have laughed, but he held it back as he set his jaw and stared at the girl. Wouldn't it be something if this was all just some sort of hoax. His eye glistened dangerously, but he knew if it were true, they'd be in a heap of trouble.

"Yes, my brother sent him here to protect me when we ran into trouble I..." she hesitated, not knowing what else to say before just asking directly. "And as a hired man, you will release him. By order of Lady Kella Harmond."
And the men all hesitated, but then the guard stepped back as he obeyed. He didn't even bother to look at Aryn, he didn't want to. He knew this man was a criminal, but if what the woman said was true...
Damn it all. Something here didn't smell right.

[Cambie]

((OOC: More mature language incoming!))


This time, when teardrops spilled down the girl's cheeks, Aryn had no outward reaction. Instead his expression remained static, locked in a frown of anger and betrayal. He stood there motionless as he watched the girl sob, but there was a hollow pit in his gut that seemed to siphon away any empathy he might've otherwise had for her.

How could she be Kella Harmond, sister to the Duke of Turgall?

And when she collapsed to the ground in her despondence, and the irate guard grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him up against the bars, the only response he made was an involuntary grunt to the impact. His eyes drifted aimlessly from her prone form on the ground to the guard clutching him.

What did the guard say? Had he implied that the Ironhand had... raped the girl? The thought registered only momentarily in his mind, and when it faded he gave the guard a dumbfounded look.

It was the second slam, coupled with the sensation of the girl's delicate - almost hesitant - touch on his arm that snapped him out of his reverie. Her extolling words brought that scowl back to his homely features and, with a rough shove of both his intact and crippled arms, he pushed the guard back a step. "Get your fucking hands off me," he snarled at the man, who in his own uncertainty had loosened his grip enough to be dislodged.

"Yes, my brother sent him here to protect me when we ran into trouble... And as a hired man, you will release him. By order of Lady Kella Harmond."

His glare was still directed at the now-silent guard, but upon hearing that his head snapped to peer at the woman. With the hood no longer concealing her face, it was now absolutely clear that she was the woman depicted in Mrs. Armand's charcoal sketch. She looked so different from how he remembered her just moments ago. She even carried herself taller and prouder, with a more pronounced arch in her back and a gleam in those sky-blue eyes.

All Aryn could do was shake his head just slightly, almost imperceptibly. From deep in his belly he let out a short mirthless laugh that seemed to say 'I cannot believe you right now.'

In-fucking-credible.

Lady fucking Kella Harmond. In the flesh.

There beside him, the whole time.

The guards still stood around in shocked astonishment, unsure of what to do. The one guard who'd slammed Aryn against the bars earlier had his mouth slightly agape. With another sneer, the mercenary spat, "You got a problem with it? Maybe I should bash your fucking head in like I promised you, after all. Don't think anyone will miss you."

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The guard weren't the only ones displeased by this news as Mrs. Armand outwardly frowned, but it seemed they had little choice as the woman nodded to them and turned her gaze towards Kella.

"It seems your brother hires... interesting people." Mrs. Armand's eyes gave a scrutinizing once over of the iron -handed man.

"Yeah, but if he hired him to come get you... why did you not speak up when we tossed you both in jail?" the man growled.

Kella didn't even flinch in her response, simply stating, "Because I had only known his identity when you tossed us in jail. His heroics to save me from those men, even before he knew who I was, can only be seen as saintly. Now if you'll just let us pass, he is more than capable of being able to take me back to my brother..." and the last part she added after a pause. "Alone."

The man hesitated before glancing over at Mrs. Armand.
"It seems we might be at an impass, but I'll release you both under Mrs. Armand's care. But we will still write to your brother- even fi you already have an escort."

Kella simply nodded, and somehow, the two were free. Granted, they were invited back to Mrs. Armand's bake shop, which Kella graciously accepted with a nod before stepping out of the cell.
"And if you'd be so kind," she told the head guard. "My companion needs his arm..."

And the guard hesitated as he nodded. "But of course." And snapped his fingers, ordering one of his men to retrieve the metal limb.

[Cambie]

If the guards were slow and unaccommodating before, they certainly weren't now. One of the younger guards on the detail quickly trotted out the hall and returned with an armful of weaponry and miscellany, with that metal forearm stacked at the very top. Aryn irritably snatched the prosthetic out of the young man's hand and went to work putting it back on. Rolling up his sleeve to expose the stump, he used his free and and his teeth to firmly strap the buckles around his elbow and bicep, tightening each until the arm was back in place.

"And the rest of my pack?" he asked. When none of the guards answered him, he scowled even further and leaned forward to peer one of them in the eye. "So it's probably back at Thorny's, then. Likely taken by now."

Biting his lip before he spewed out any more obscenities at the group, he spent the next few moments strapping back on his dirtied leather armor and replacing his handful of daggers in their various spots. He saved the axe for last, feigning a quick lunge at the guard and scoffing when the man flinched before replacing it at the loop in his belt.

"Not so much of a man when there aren't any bars between us, eh?" muttered the Ironhand in a voice just dripping with disdain. With a loud hock, he spat at the man's feet before turning to follow Kella Harmond out, too frustrated to even feel the headache or the painful gash on his chest.

His eyes remained on the back of her blonde head, exposed now that her cloak was finally lowered for the first time. Neither of the ladies could see it, but there was a fire in his gaze, framed by that distrusting and disbelieving scowl still plastered all over his bearded face. What a fool he was.

And then they were outside, breathing in the fresh morning air.

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Taking a few delicate steps outside, Kella took a moment to regard the city in the morning light. Even the air tasted as beautiful as the sky looked, and she couldn't have been happier to be out of that place. Though now even graver consequences might be faced- for she had no idea what her companion would think from her lie about him, about her identity and what Mrs. Armand was planning to do. After all, now that they knew who she was... would they actually take her home? Or could she persuade Aryn other wise?

"So now that the two of you are free, why don't you come by my bakery and get treated to something before you hit the road? It'll be a long trip back to Turgall."

Hesitating, Kella glanced towards Aryn before back towards the cake-lady.
"I... I suppose that should be alright. But is it not too early for cake?"

The old woman chuckled.
"As I recalled it, you and your brother used to come in here first thing in the morning to have cakes, so don't you think I forgot that so easily. You were both my best customers, it's the least I can do after all you've endured yesterday. Though, I must say it... it is rather ironic that you met such an.... established hired helper to bring you home." And Mrs. Armand did not hide her skeptical gaze of Iron-hand.

[Cambie]

By the time Mrs. Armand turned to peer quizzically at him, Aryn had wiped that frown from his face, replacing it instead with a stony expressionless gaze of his own. The whole situation still bothered him something fierce, but he hid it well enough in front of this old lady. After all, no need for anyone to know his true purpose.

"These are rough times, lady. Maybe she needed a rough hand to get her through them, not some noble and righteous idiot of a knight but a man of the streets. Especially in a town like this, filled to the brim with rats and brigands. Go to Thorny's. They'll think twice about laying a hand on her again."

The skepticism remained on Mrs. Armand's face, mixing now with a little bit of distaste. She turned back to Kella as they walked and added in a soft voice, "I don't like him. Surely your brother would've sent someone more capable?"

Aryn gave his nose a rub and continued, ignoring that jab at his character. "I don't know about lady Harmond, but I think I've ruined enough of your cakes for the week."

Armand's Bake and Cake Shop looked the same as it did the last time they were here... or at least from the outside. Through the window they could all see that there was a significant amount of mess left to be cleaned up.

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There were a few quaint little tables and chairs placed in the front of the place as Mrs. Armand guided them inside and Kella was greeted by that same, sweet pastry smell as always. Vanille had always been a dream city for her, and until today, it hadn't been once marred by any sort of memory. Now, finding herself alone with Aryn at one of the tables, she shifted uncomfortably as Mrs. Armand left the two to go fetch some tea.

"I... I apologize for not telling you who I am," she spoke, her voice barely over a whisper as she nervously tucked some of her blonde hair from her face. "And thank you for playing along with what I said. I don't know how else I could have gotten you out of there." She had been avoiding his gaze, but once she was finished speaking, her blue eyes timidly peered back up into his. The guilt was there, but then again- so was his scrutiny. She wouldn't be surprised if he was upset at all. She just wished she could mkae it up to him somehow.

[Cambie]

If he could have folded his hands together on the table, Aryn would have. As it were, he rested the ponderous metal prosthetic across the tabletop and lazily draped his other arm over it.

Her apology was in that same meek voice she'd used the entire time they'd known each other, but this time it seemed... different, as if disingenuous. Obviously she meant every word of it, but he somehow still couldn't shake the feeling of disbelief that weighed down upon his ox-like frame. It took every ounce of his self-discipline to keep up the eye contact with her, and after a moment he had to look down and let out a low rueful laugh.

Looking back up with a more serious expression, he opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. Thick brows furrowing slightly, he thought to himself "And how do you possibly tell her why you've been looking for her?"

Finally, he broke the uncomfortable silence with a gruff and terse answer for her. "Don't be thanking me. I did what any other decent man would have done. In fact, you got me out of jail. I should be thanking you."

And how could she possibly accept it, when soon he'd be dragging her back to her brother for a tidy payout?

The thought had him shaking his head again. He had to break the tension somehow, and did so with a casual "You know, it would've been a lot easier if you'd just told me that first time."

The Ironhand peered over to the kitchen doorway, where he just spied Mrs. Armand doing something or another. Leaning forward now and lowering his voice, his whispered, "So what do you plan to do now? Lady Kella Harmond."

[visualspice]

Kella winced at his directness. She knew she shouldn't keep secrets, but she did not wish to go back to Turgall. If she went back,s he did not want to think what her brother would do to her and the very idea brought her near to tears.
"I don't know,"s he found herself speaking, hot tears slipping down her cheeks just as Mrs. Armand returned.

"Tea?"

Quickly brushing her tears away, she forced a smile for Mrs.Armand. "Yes, thank you."

"One lump of sugar or two?"

"One will suffice." And with a bow of her head, she watched Mrs. Armand drop in the sugar then move over to Aryn.

"Tea?" And if he wanted some... "One lump or two?"
And as Mrs. Armand was tending to her new companion, she brushed back the rest of her tears before sneaking a glance his way.

[Cambie]

Aryn bit his lip again as the tears welled up in the corner of his eye. He comforted her once already when he cried, but that was when she was a different person. Now, she was not only a noblewoman, but the very one he'd been sent out to retrieve. It would practically be a slap in her face to soothe her worries and then reveal to her that he was bringing her in for a reward.

The dilemma ate away at him, and he was forced to look away as she wiped her eyes with a delicate hand. Luckily, the old lady came back with some tea for Kella, affording the Ironhand a moment to look away and stare off at nothing in particular, thinking.

When she asked him about the tea, he peered at her and quickly shook his head. "None for me." His throat was parched, but somehow he'd also lost his appetite. "What I do need, though, is a rag and a bucket of water," he added as he stood up from the table. It was an odd request but Mrs. Armand only silently gestured to the door leading into the kitchen.

There, he found what he needed and returned with a small pail filled with cold water and several clean towels. Letting Lady Harmond enjoy her tea in silence, the mercenary went about gingerly cleaning off the wound in his chest, wincing with every touch of the cloth against the dried gash. Quickly the towel turned a faint shade of red as he dabbed away the grime and blood. The cold water felt so refreshing though.

He paused for a moment to peer back over to the girl. Holding up a second clean towel, he said, "You know, you cleaned me up good but you still look a bit messy..."