The start of the evening had gone precisely as he anticipated that it would. As the youngest child of Duke Rodric now ,Ewan sat quietly with the Rodric men in the drawing room, listening to powerful men from all corners of the country discussing the current events, politics, religion and economics. Were it not for his mother urging him to come with her , he would have remained there all night. Having spent much of his time at sea and across the border in Serendipity, helping to strengthen Folkvar's relationship with their Serenian neighbors, Ewan was grossly behind with the local news. It helped him take his mind off of something that had been troubling him.
It was with great reluctance that Ewan let his mother guide him out of the drawing room and into the music room to meet with a and rather fair young minor noble lady from Allar, Lady MacArthur. The lady seemed nice at first, but as soon as his mother left them alone and she started talking... oh dear Ansgar did he ever change his mind! He exchanged a rather awkward and agonizingly long conversation that revolved around her and he couldn't get a word in edgewise. Ewan wouldn't have minded that had it not been for the girl's ceaseless complaining about petty things.
Ewan smiled politely and tried to sway the conversation multiple times in a more pleasant direction, but each time Lady MacArthur would simply increase the volume of her voice and speak right over him. Fortunately for her, Ewan, unlike most Rodrics, had inherited a gentler and forgiving nature that was more associated with the Redmond side of his heritage. He was had an impressive amount of patience in-spite of the Lady's limitless insolence , however, when the conversation finally focused on him and his interests, she quickly found an excuse to go powder her nose. He silently thanked Ansgar for her hasty departure. She really wasn't a very nice lady anyway!
Dreading that his mother was waiting for him near the drawing room, Ewan found a quiet corner to stand and listen to the music. Alone with his thoughts, his mind drifted to the very thing he'd been trying to push from his thoughts all night, and the night before, and the night before that. Rodric men did not cry. His father forbade showing weakness at the funeral and Ewan , being the sensitive lad that he was, had not hidden his feeling easily. He managed. Barely though every time he was alone it made him think of poor Logan still fresh in the grave...
Ewan felt a great weight tugging at his heart. He felt his throat constricting , his lips tugging into a frown and the burning threat of tears starting to form in his eyes. He bowed his head and told himself quietly, "No, you compose yourself. Do not do this here." However, telling himself this only made matters worse. Blasted music! Why couldn't they play a livelier tune in here!? Ewan shook his head and wiped the corners of his eyes with his gloved hand. He forced himself to take a deep breath and tried to compose himself.
The sound of a voice within close proximity caused Ewan to jump in place. He turned to regard a peculiar looking gentleman accompanied by a fair young lady, neither of whom he was terribly familiar with. The man dressed as a bear inquired about a giant snake woman. Goodness, what a peculiar question! Was there really such thing as a giant lady or was this poor fellow drunk? Ewan stared at Braxton , fighting to keep his expression polite and neutral but he couldn't help but stare, the confusion evident on his face. He was aware and ashamed of his rudeness and offered a quick apology, "Your pardon, good sir but you seem to have caught me off guard. I did not mean to stare. A giant...snake lady, you say? " He adopted a thoughtful expression, recalling the faces or , rather, the masks he'd seen that night. "Well, I know not about a Lady, but I did indeed see a snake." He sniffed and wiped his watery eyes again. He was honestly grateful for this distraction even if it was quite odd!
