Spirits of the Earth

Pit pat, pit pat. Illi's delicate toes brushed upon the grass and dirt as she ran as fast as she could manage. The manor was now within sight, and a foolish grin spread across her face. To be able to celebrate Davishire's birthday with him made her happier than she would ever admit to her siblings (though they had all figured it out already, due to recent babbling and constant smiling) and she could only wish he'd enjoy the present she got him. Oh, if only she could reach him quicker! But it was hard to run in a full length dark blue dress, especially with both hands occupied and unable to hold up the abundance of fabric. In one hand, she held her pair of emerald heels. In the other hand, she held his gift.

Glancing up at the sky, Illi wondered how late she was. Perhaps a half an hour? A full hour? It was hard to tell, but she felt terrible. To be late on a very special day... it was a disgrace. But surely there were plenty of people to keep him occupied—maybe he hadn't even noticed she was missing! Illi couldn't decide if that would be a good or a bad thing, but whatever the case was, she knew she didn't want to miss one more second of the celebration.

Finally up the steps and in front of the large, closed door, Illi realized she should recompose herself. Wasn't the entrance the most important part of a party, after all? Leaning down, she set down her two shoes. And then she heard the door open. Cheeks flushed, hair a mess, and shoes not even on—this was not the entrance she had been planning on making. Illi's cheeks became even pinker as she blushed with embarrassment, wondering what in the world she should do.

OOC: whether or not Davishire realizes she's here yet is up to you—I can always write more!

Unfortunately for Miss Illi (or perhaps, fortunately for her), Davishire had his back to the door when the servants answered it, and upon seeing the woman in such disarray gave them reasons to pause before inquiring, "Your invitation, Miss. So that we may announce your arrival?"

Though as they spoke, Davishire was being guided far, far away from the front doors in which she had just entered, and out onto the veranda, his mother clinging to his arm. SHe had caught him up in a social entrapment, and was trying to lead him towards a pair of twins she wanted him to meet...
She felt them a very fine match for her boy, and as soon as Davishire realized what she was up to, he immediately regretted allowing her to whisk him off, and found himself in quite the soured disposition as his mother, time after time, continued to press the issue of the twin's youth and beauty, and about Davishire's unfortunate circumstance of not being married.

Illi looked up startled at the servants as they spoke, silently thanking all gods that might be for not drawing too much attention to her. There were a few nobles that looked her way, but none of them seemed bother enough to point her out to others. Probably because just about none of them recognized her.

"One second!" she responded frantically with a worried smile. Picking up the side of her dress with one hand, she slipped her two shoes on. Illi then reached up and took her hair out of its messy ponytail deciding, for once in her life, to let it stay down. It formed loose and messy waves, but nothing too wild or unacceptable.

Taking a deep breath and hoping that her cheeks had at least calmed down a little, Illi put on a more relaxed and fitting smile before finishing, "I am Illi Treyburn, thank you."

The servant raised a brow at the woman, hoping she would have produced the invitation he wanted, but after scanning the guest list, he saw her name and turned to the lady with a nod.
"Ah, why, yes, Miss Treyburn." And he gave the woman a nod and a polished smile. "Do enjoy your evening."

"You too!" Illi responded joyfully. Hugging the present around her stomach, she pattered around the room, smiling at anybody she made eye contact with. She hardly recognized anyone, with the exception of a few older couples that seemed to somehow be at every party. She hadn't even seen Davina or Grace. Maybe they were all avoiding her as punishment for being so late.

Unwilling to let that idea bring her spirits down, Illi kept wandering about. How big could the house be, anyway? She had managed to find him in the huge house from the ball, surely this manor would be more manageable.

By the time Davishire was able to 'politely' drag himself away from the socially entrapping conversation with the twins, he found himself with a fresh goblet of wine, and downing nearly all f it as his eyes scanned the crowd for any sight of Miss Illi. Still fearful she might not have gotten his invitation, he began to stalk across the main hall towards the servant out front who was going through the list of guests, however, before he could even make it-
He was once again, swept aside into some more conversations, this time with an elderly woman named Lady Penselton, and the Lady afforded Davishire no grounds in which to excuse himself, as he found himself standing there, impatiently shifting his weight from one boot to the other.

Illi gasped as she realized something. She knew Davishire hated big events like this and, last time when he found the event stifling (though that was her fault), he went outside. So, she wondered, maybe he'd be at the terrace!

Wandering on outside, Illi quickly scanned the area and deduced that he was, in fact, not on the terrace. Even still, a breath of nice air felt wonderful. After a moment of pondering, she realized that the library would be another good guess. And it would be the perfect place to give him his present!

Lady Penselton made Davishire suffer an ear full. It was almost an hour before he was able to break away, and when he was finally able to inquire to the man at the door about the guest list, the man simply shook his head.
"I do not know. I relieved the man on duty here so he could run to relieve himself." And while the servant blushed at such a thing, Davishire gave an exasperated sigh,a nd moved to stalk back through the crowd of people, doing his best to try to be evasive, but it seemed damn near impossible. Damn this party being  set up for him! Because just as he had made it across the room, Lady Penselton stopped him again!

Illi had made her way to the library and, despite her best efforts, managed to get distracted by the walls of books. However, she escaped the lure of the words within twenty minutes (she was quite proud of this) and continued exploring around the house. Even a lesser noble like herself was stopped by a few people—though, to her dismay, they were all old women and not Davishire—to converse for a little while. Eventually, exhausted and worn out, Illi returned back to the main room.

And she immediately saw Davishire. She couldn't help but wonder if he had been there all along... though, given his stature, she doubted it would have been possible for her to miss him. It seemed much more likely that he entered some time after she left.

At first, Illi planned on letting him finish his conversation. Then she remembered that she wasn't quite the patient type and would rather just steal him away. Then she saw his clear expression of boredom and decided it was her duty to steal him away.

Illi walked up to the pair with confidence, a smile beaming on her face. It felt like so long since she had seen her wolf. Without sparing a beat, she tapped the lady on the shoulder and curtsied. "I apologize, but I'm afraid I have not yet given my wishes to the birthday man and would love for the chance to do so," she said as kindly as she could manage, knowing that the true message behind her words were quite clear.

lli's rescue couldn't have come at a better time, for Lady Penselton had gotten to the point in her story she was going over the details about her eleventh husband's failures in the army, and then his inevitable death due to a striking illness that took him years to die from. How the woman had ever scored so many husband's was beyond Davishire's comprehension, and his patience, but it was difficult for him to even get a word in, but when someone cut in, Davishire gave a growl of relief, but the second he saw who it was, his green eyes brightened.

"Miss Illi!" he said, and Lady Penselton stood back in dismay, a hand to her chest as she observed Davishire's sudden change in demeanour,a nd immediately lifted up her spectacles to examine the young lady.

"My goodness, what a lovely thing. Are you one of Davishire's cousins?" the lady asked, truly ignorant to who the young Treyburn was.

"Oh no," Illi responded politely. "I'm in fact a queen from far away"—in time—"; someone you probably don't know." How the lady could be so dense as to not realize she had been asking her to leave was beyond Illi's comprehension, but she wasn't going to be so undignified and rude as to say it directly. "And you, my lady, who might you be?" In all honesty, she didn't care in the least who the lady was. She just wanted to be able to speak to Davishire!

An idea crept into Illi's head and, despite her nobler judgement, she went with it. "Oh! And I almost forgot to tell you, Lady Davina told me herself that she wished to speak with you this fine evening. And although it is the great Lord Davishire's birthday celebration, I think we all know better than to keep Lady Davina in anticipation. I believe she wanted to hear about your husbands?" It was a cruel thing she was doing to Lady Davina, to send this sweet but overly talkative lady to her, but Illi figured no real harm could come out of it.

"A queen?" Lady Penselton was taken back, using those spectacles again to look the girl over with scrutiny. "My, you are a bit under dressed, are you not? And that dress is not in the latest fashion - where did you say you are from, my dear?" And just as Illi went on about Davina, it appeared as if Lady Penselton was about to prepare herself for a long speech about Davishire's sister, but instead of letting her get in some long winded story out, Davishire cut in, "Look, there she is now. Now, do forgive us, Lady Penselton, but the Queen and I must catch up." And he took Lady Penselton's hand and kissed the top of it lightly before hooking arms with Illi and rushing off with her.

"You're late," he told her, not glancing down at her just yet as he began to lead her away from the crowd. But as they found themselves in a more quieter hallway, he sighed and smiled down at her, the smile a rare sight indeed.
"I was afraid you weren't going to attend."

Illi laughed at how casually Davishire dismissed themselves from the lady, though she was surprised when he moved her to somewhere else. She had just been expecting to have to talk to him there, though the quieter and more private hall was much more preferable.

Illi had a small heart attack when Davishire called her out on being late and, though a small part of her was happy that he had noticed, she was worried that he was mad at her. But when he turned around and smiled, she couldn't restrain herself any longer. She quickly moved in and wrapped her arms around his back, giving him a big hug. "Of course I came!" she exclaimed quietly. Didn't want to draw attention to them, after all. "I wouldn't miss your birthday celebration for anything!" What she really wanted to say is that she wouldn't miss seeing him for anything, but even Illi was too embarrassed to mutter those words—especially to a man she wasn't really courting.

Gasping, Illi unattached herself and took a step back, holding out the rectangular wooden box his present was in. Grinning widely, she said, "I brought you something! Hopefully this will make up for me being late... though, you know, while I was late, but I have been in this manor for over an hour searching for you. Well, I admit, I did get briefly distracted by your library, but other than that apparently I was just looking in the wrong places. Anyway, a present for my King!"

Inside the box was an journal, full of blank pages and with a cover that was encased in wolf pelt. Illi had almost written his name on the first page, for it was meant to be a diary of sorts, before realizing what a silly mistake that would have been. Even that single word—no, especially that single word—would have carried so many images through it.

When Illi embraced him, he could not help himself but tense. He wasn't a man who was used to or generally fond of affection, and what little he got from home was generally cold, the hugs being out of necessity rather than the heart felt squeeze and warmth Illi provided. His cheeks heated at the sentiment, and then peered down when she offered out the gift.

Not about to make her wait, he carefully pulled the ribbon from the box and opened it, and carefully lifted out the journal. As he flipped through the pages and admired the fur pelt hugging it's cover, he peered over the top of it down to Illi.

"A journal?" he stared at her curiously, and seeing the look in her eyes, he knew she was just about to burst in wanting to explain.

"Yup!" Illi replied cheerfully. "I figured it would be a good thing to get you, since we both like reading and writing and all. It was made with the intention of being a diary, since I get the feeling that you don't tell others about your emotions much and it feels nice to write things down sometimes, but if you wouldn't like that, you could also just use it to write your boring and factual stories." She paused to take a breath and smiled widely up to him.

"Anyway, I wanted to make you something. At first I was going to sew you something with wolf pelt, so that you could wear your victory. You know, since the wolf part of the story represents grief and anguish and pain, it's as if that part of you would have been conquered... I hope that makes sense? It made sense in my mind. Continuing on, however, I realized that I didn't really know how to sew clothing as well as the fact that I'm sure plenty of nobles will buy you petty clothes. Plus, you have money enough to buy whatever you want to wear. So I decided I'd make you something more personal that would make more sense for you to have as well as have a connection between the two of us." Illi blushed lightly as she said this, but kept talking, hoping her embarrassment would leave. "I've never made a journal before, so I hope it all works and doesn't fall apart. I glued it more times than probably necessary, since I really didn't want the pages to fall out... but... do you like it?" she finished shyly, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than she had expected. It had taken her a while to make it—she started the day she got his invitation—but she wouldn't tell him that. Especially if he hated it.

So what turned out to be just a simple journal, was now a lot more- and Davishire found his eyes widening a bit as she revealed the story behind the small gift. It looked rather small in his large hands, but he held it with care, smoothing a hand across the wolf pelt surface.

"I must admit, I have tried to keep a journal before, but I'm not sure I was any good at it. In my youth, that is. I think I'd be embarrassed to read that stuff now, but this.." And here he gave her a genuine smile, though it looked a bit wolfish as his grin exposed some teeth. "I think I could give it a go again. Thank you." And as he spoke it, he paused, awkwardly, realizing... how was he to thank her for this gift other than the appropriate 'thanks' he had already given? Though a part of him, he realized, had almost moved in to give her another sort of thanks....
a kiss...

and the realization of this startled him internally, for he was not a man to act upon such thoughts, at least not so boldly. And then realize he was standing there, simply stared at her, he gave her another smile, though this time more sheepish.
"I don't think I've ever received a more thoughtful gift. Thank you, Miss Illi," and, despite his hesitation and reserved nature, he ended up compromising in taking her hand and kissing the top of it lightly. "I'll be sure to put it to good use."

When Davishire started talking with his first thank you, a hesitant smile appeared on Illi's face. She couldn't tell if he truly liked it, or if he was just saying that to be kind. His smile warmed her heart and tugged her belief towards him actually appreciating the gift... but she just couldn't tell.

However, when he thanked her again and kissed her hand, all her instincts told her to let go of her hesitation. It seemed he really did like it. She didn't know of his thoughts to kiss her, nor did the thought even cross her mind, but even still, Illi wasn't one for formalities.

A real, innocent, sweet smile replaced her hesitant one, and Illi reached up and gave Davishire another hug. But unlike her one before, full of unrestrained enthusiasm, this hug was of a gentler sort. It didn't disturb the serene and romantic scene, it instead enhanced it.

"Anything for my King," she responded quietly, a warm and playful blush spread across her cheeks.

Davishire's face went completely red at such a phrase, and his face was already blushing from the hug, which made him uneasy since he was not one to demonstrate or act upon such sentimental emotions. In fact, hugs were rare in his family. He recalled when he was younger, having injured his leg- and all he wanted was to cling to his mother-

What he got was a helpful sibling instead. His younger brother was so small at the time- though eh supposed had he not been there to help him when he needed it most- he'd be as bad off as his sister Davina, or perhaps worse...

Inwardly, shaking the thoughts away, he rigidly pulled away from the embrace.
"There now, no need for such an amorous reply." And in a slightly more public setting, though it seemed anyone near by would pay the couple no heed. He was just embarrassed, not being used to such things- and with his family's eyes being everywhere (considering this was his home...) he just felt... well....

More defensive. It wasn't that he didn't want to show interest or anything else towards this woman, it was the fact if he did, and any member of his family saw...
He was just afraid of the consequences.

"I should take this to my room. Would you excuse me? I shouldn't be long."
He would invite her to accompany him- but with propriety...
Rules were rules, and he wasn't about to tarnish either of their reputations.

Illi's light pink cheeks turned scarlet red when he said 'amorous reply'. She had meant for it to be flirty, yes, but thinking back on it perhaps it was a little too much to say. He clearly thought so... and at his immediate retreat, she wondered if the two things were linked.

"Yes, of course," she replied awkwardly before retreating to go get something to eat. And drink. She was acting unusually unlike herself, and was hoping that by distracting herself by the pleasantries of taste, she would return to her normal character.

Of course, this plan wasn't thoroughly thought through. She did manage to get ahold of a glass of wine first, but then she was immediately interrupted by none other than Lady Penselton who had quite a lot of questions to ask about her queenship.

By the time Davishire returned, he could not believe the rotten luck that had befallen Illi, and quietly, he approached the pair when he made a noise, clearing his throat and Lady Penselton whirled around and turned on the newly arrived social prey.

"Ah, Lord Davishire! So good of you to join us. We were just talking about how lovely the this party has been. You and your family are most gracious of hosts!"

Davishire gave a small, toothy smile and stole a cool glance over towards Illi before directing his attention back to their social entrapper.

"Yes, it's unfortunate the celebration must revolve around my birthday, but I suppose there was no talking my family out of it. The women here do love to entertain."

And though Davishire had approached the pair in hopes to be a gallant rescuer, it seemed he too, had been caught up in her social trap! For Lady Penselton went on and on and on in such a tiresome way that by the time Davishire's patience was about to break, it was announced that dinner was to be served. Knowing he'd have to part ways with Illi here, he turned to her after bidding Lady Penselton a 'fond' goodbye and released a sigh.

"I think we deserve a bit of supper after that, dont' you think?" he told her with a bit of a smile.

Illi nodded and smiled and gave brief "mmhmms" as Lady Penselton kept speaking without delay. She even dragged Davishire into the conversation without a second thought. And, unfortunately, neither of them were able to escape the lady until dinner was announced.

She curtsied to the lady, as she thought was necessary, and even she couldn't hide her relief at Penselton's absense. "Yes, indeed," Illi responded with a small laugh. Then, a little hesitantly, she added, "I'm afraid I do not know any one around my age here, however, ignoring your absolutely lovely sister. Is there someone you would recommend me to sit by?" If she wasn't so hungry (and the occasion of this party was not Davishire's birthday), she might have tried to sneak off to the library instead. But, alas, it seemed some socializing was in order—and if that needed to be the case, as it was, she'd rather sit by some girls her age than her mother's older friends.

Davishire all but dabbed the sweat from his brow, relief evident in the deep sigh he released when the pair were free. But as he guided her towards the dining room, he couldn't help but offer her a woflish grin when he said, "I heard Lady Penselton has a few nieces your age."

Illi looked up at Davishire with false astonishment. "You would think I would dare pass my time with her nieces?" Laughing, she did make a point to add, "I am kidding though, I wouldn't judge nieces on their aunt. They may be as aghast as I am with her."

Davishire gave a bark of a laugh.
"You could be indeed right, but would you dare risk it? Perhaps you ought to stay with me, for the sake of saving you from more wretched social entrapment!"

Illi looked at Davishire and scrunched her nose immediately. "Excuse me? I would dare risk anything in order to avoid spending a dinner with you!" She pointedly turned her head the other direction with her nose raised and arms crossed.

Her point made, Illi turned back towards him and smiled with a tinge of sadness. "In all honesty though, are you sure you would escape social criticism if you sat by me? I'm not oblivious what is said about my family—much of it deserved—and I would expect the man of the night to be expected to sit by, oh, I don't know, his family or some higher noble or something."

It was Davishire's turn to wrinkle his nose.
"Family?" Where as she might be fond of her own, his own just gave him a headache. Only his younger brother was he fond of, and he wasn't even home on this day. The lucky bastard...

Shaking off his thoughts, he released a hot sigh and gave her a nod.
"I wouldn't want anyone else by my side."

A light blush spread across Illi's cheeks. He didn't want anyone else by his side. He wanted her  by his side. Processing his words, she grinned to herself. Illi gave a faint nod and then, realizing she was acting strange, raised her head and smiled widely at him. "Well, there's nothing more that this Queen would want than her fitting King to sit by her at dinner!" Perhaps she could hide her embarrassment and elation with enthusiasm.

Davishire could not help but smile at her, even if it made him look more devilish- or perhaps handsome, or even both.

"Let them all speak. Words mean nothing to me, especially gossip. And as the man of this house I ought to be respected, and so should all of my guests."

Illi laughed and replied, "Well speak they will, I assume. But surely no harm can come from a simple dinner—especially when the dinner is yours. Any who don't respect you probably shouldn't be here anyway!" She was, of course, unaware that most of the invited guests were not invited by Davishire's own will.

Waiting for Davishire to take the lead and head to the table, Illi just stood there smiling.

No more words were shared as Davishire guided his guest to the table. And the looks they got gave away too much of what the other's felt, but out of etiquette, not a word was spoken against Davishire and the woman beside them, and soon all were feasting as a grand roast was served, layered in gravy and piled high with other fancy vegetables and meat.

Illi, for once in her life, actually felt the stares on her. Normally she was too engrained in a book or her own thoughts to notice other people's judgement of her, but for some reason she felt overly self-conscious. She stole a glance at Davishire and took a deep breath. Who cared if they were all judging her? Illi was just happy to be sitting there, next to her King.

The feast was served and Illi ate in amazement. The cooks for this meal must have been the best one's in the country—she had never had so much exquisite food on her plate at once. Even the wine tasted topnotch, though she barely drank any of it.

Though where she hardly drank any wine, Davishire felt the need to indulge, but just enough to get only a little bit drunk- but not to lose his head. If anything, the looks and conversation coming from his mother and sister were boring a hole clean through him, but he played ignorant of them and cast his eyes to Illi.

"I take it the meal is adequate?" he asked her, giving her a grin as he raised his freshly filled goblet to his lips.

Illi giddily responded, "It's absolutely divine!" She was smiling ear to ear, looking at Davishire. "Thank you so much for all this wonderful food!" Illi turned back to her food and took another light sip of the wine. Her mind started wandering to the future... and what they would possibly have for dessert.

And as she day dreamed of dessert- when it was served, it simply was a dream, for the servants brought in a tower of chocolate cake so large it appeared as if it could bump the chandelier. Every guest was impressed, and applauded at the sight of such a magnificent cake.

And Davishire puffed out his chest proudly, keeping his chin up high and his countenance, level headed. And then once the cake was cut, he gestured to Illi.
"I hope you like chocolate cake... we've got plenty enough to feed half of the duchy!" he beamed, that wolfish grin appearing quite wide this time as both he and his 'woman' were both served a single slice of one of the layers from the cake on silver toned plates.

"Bon apetit," he told her, raising up his silver fork and began to dig in.
And boy was that cake heavenly.

Illi stared at the cake as it was brought in. She gaped at Davishire, part of her wondering if the cake was chocolate because of their second encounter... but she quickly gave that notion up. It was probably chocolate because chocolate was the best thing ever.

She blushed at his wolfish grin, realizing that she had never seen a smile as attractive as his. She nodded her end and enthusiastically replied, "Oh, I LOVE chocolate cake!" In unison, she raised her own fork and ate her cake. By the time she was done, she was stuffed. Not another thing would be eaten that day—by any of the guests.

Davishire was stuffed too by the time he was through and gave a light pat to his belly as he reclined a little in his chair. Meager conversations lingered at the dinner table, as was customary, but Davishire seemed to relish in his own silence, even as others tried to prod him for conversation themselves.

Unlike Davishire, Illi was keen to talk. While no one had enough interest to start a conversation with her, she prodded into Davishire's "conversations". In other words, she responded when he went silent.

Illi spoke about her family, the weather, wine, and, of course, books. None of the conversations lasted long, however, for everyone else dropped out of them as soon as they could. No one truly wanted to talk to a Treyburn. Illi sat in contentment as she noticed (though it was not her intention) that people stopped trying to bother Davishire with conversation as soon as they learned it would mean talking to her.

And when this happened, Davishire released a long sigh of relief. He said nothing, but leaned back a little in his chair at the silence, obviously feeling a lot more relaxed when the hounding guests had gone away. And as he reveled in the moment of peace, he picked up his drink and took a nice long sip.

If he had his choice, this was definitely how he'd prefer to spend his birthday.

Illi peeked at Davishire out of the side of her eyes, wanting to say something but having no ideas as to what. She didn't want to bore him like all the other guests seemed to. She realized, then, that it was only when she spoke to Davishire that she felt self-conscious. Normally she would just say whatever she wanted to, but not with him.

Even still, despite the embarrassment that had come with this realization, Illi still wanted to speak. With a light laugh that gave away how awkward she felt, she quietly said, "I don't think I ever thanked you for the last time we saw each other. I've never really done anything with anyone other than my family before. It was fun... So, thank you."

Davishire was not oblivious to her nerves, but perhaps he was oblivious to the source. Surely there were many reasons for her to feel uneasy in this place. But when she spoke, he only smiled at her and studied her from where she sat.

"I should be thanking you. I rarely ever enjoy such activities."

Smiling to herself, Illi took a sip of her drink. She had nothing more to say. Should she even say more? If he wanted to talk, he would continue the conversation, right? But... this wasn't like her. Sighing, she recalled the first time she spoke to him. She had been outlandish then, but he had also been quite rude to her. To think that she would be sitting here at his side months later was a bit surprising.

"So... have you read any interesting books lately?" Illi finally asked, hoping it would cause an enthusiastic answer.

The reply would have been an interesting one indeed, for he chuckled with his lips closed as he smirked and regarded her for a moment before he replied.
"I've acquire a new book on antique guns, the history behind the making, so to speak. The book itself is rare, written by some famous author from Hyoite who had once been a Connlaothian but did not like the politics here and the laws, so left for something better. Even his story is an interesting read, which is a brief chapter int he back of the book. Though I would guess you'd hardly be interested in such a story," and that wolfish grin appeared as his dark eyes danced.
"You have already declared to me the sort of stories you've enjoyed and I dare say I had picked up one most recently I think you would like. It made me think of you none the less, as it was about some royal duchess turned pirate in order to save her home land. It was written very well, and how compelled I was to ready it surprised me. Then again, it did hint on some history I was interested in, and it seemed the female writer, a certain Riza Jones, knows her stuff about rifles and the sea. But what about you?"

And here he cocked a brow and observed her.
"You tend to be quite the book enthusiast. Have you read anything that has completely captivated you?" And as he waited for her answer, he took a long drink from his goblet.

It was true that Illi was hardly interested in such boring and informational books, but she did allow that antique guns seemed like a good topic, at least. Surely having such information would be useful in reading (and writing) books that included gun use. However, the part about the author leaving Connlaoth stayed in her mind, even as he continued talking.

Illi did not want to bring up such politics, not at a huge table, but luckily Davishire brought up another topic that interested her even more. "Riza Jones?!" She laughed lightly and continued, "Of course she knows her stuff about rifles and the sea. That book is a spiced up autobiography, you know. She stretched the truth for literary purposes, but her life was full of adventure. Have you truly never heard of her?" She had been searching for a Riza Jones book for years, but they were incredibly hard to come by. "I don't suppose you might allow me to borrow the book? I have read so much about it, but have never actually read the book itself." She paused, shook her head, and smiled deviously. "Oh, what am I doing... I can't ask for a book on your birthday! Forget I said a thing, I shall bring it up more politely at another time, my dear wolf."

Taking a deep breath, Illi laughed again. She was trying to bring up a conversation topic to get Davishire to talk, but there she went, ranting like normal. Surprisingly, he didn't seem to mind. If she didn't know better, she would almost say he enjoyed listening to her talk non-stop.

"I have read more books than I could name in the remainder of this meal but, unfortunately, there has been nothing that has truly stood out. I have read many great books, but when you read as much as I do, great books are no longer completely captivating. I still search for a book that has that extra spark." Her smile twitched as she added, trying to hide her solemness, "If I were able, I would write it myself. Alas, I do not possess such skill. Oh, but if you would like recommendations, however, I could give you plenty."

Davishire looked at her with a look that could only be described as wolfish pride. He raised a large hand and waved off the idea.
"Bah, what is a birthday good for except social proprieties? The only good thing to come out of this is a chance for me to see you again, and I wouldn't let Angsar get between me lending you that book. Perhaps when the meal is complete, I'll escort you to the library and if you desire, you can select some books.. that is.." he went on, with a chuckle. "If you can find one that sparks."

The second Davishire mentioned his library, Illi's face lit up. Any unease or nervousness she had been feeling before had completely vanished. "Oh my, nothing sounds better!" she enthusiastically responded. Her sudden energy and loudness caused a few extra side stares from the guests, whom she ignored. "Hopefully our experience in the library will be better than last time," Illi added teasingly before finishing the rest of her cake.

Davishire felt his cheeks heat a little at such a comment,a nd lifted his newly filled glass of wine to his lips.
"First of all, we're not in costume here, so I think we can manage. Besides," he gave a small laugh as he relaxed into his chair. "This is my own private library. And I maintain it-"

"To the point of obsession," Davina cut in, as she waltzed their way. She leisurely lifted her own wine glass as her brother scowled.

"There is nothing wrong in keeping a study flawless."

Davina chuckled.
"If that helps you sleep at night.." And slowly her eyes drifted towards Illi. And she feigned ignorance. "So, who is your lady friend?" And then witha  feigned gasp, she added, "Tell me this is not the morbid queen from the masked ball." She looked the woman over and gave her a coy smirk.

Illi shot a worried look towards Davishire. She didn't mind Davina's teasing, but she knew he might. Illi wasn't one to respond with rudeness, unless it was a well timed witty retort. And in this case, she had just the thing.

Raising her eyes to meet Davina's, she responded, "I can see how the wine would deceive eyes that are ignorant to both books and our precious Connloath history, but surely you are neither of those? Unless, heaven forbid I say it, you had more wine inside of you than I had on myself. But, of course, that could simply not be the case either. So, no, I'm afraid I can't be that morbid queen you are referring to."

Davina cocked a brow at the woman and looked down at Davishire.
"My, you have a way with picking women."
And her smile only grew as she saw the smolder in Davishire's eyes and the threatening smile he wore. She gave a patronizing pat to his shoulder.
"Now, now, don't look so grumpy on your big day. You know the day is still young...." ANd her eyes trailed from Davishire over to Illi. "I suppose, however, you'll have plans even for the night."

Illi just beamed an innocent smile as Davina started to tease Davishire, ignoring the poison in her words. She started to take a light sip of her drink before laughing and almost coughing it out. The fact that she had the guts to imply their plans for the night astonished Illi and almost impressed her. She was blushing, of course, but the ridiculousness of the statement overrode her embarrassment.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous!" Illi responded while laughing her heart out. She kept her voice low enough that most other guests shouldn't have been able to hear her, but her laughter was bringing more stares nonetheless.

"Oh, but of course," Davina said with a sexy little pout. "Why, I adore my big brother," she went on, placing an 'affectionate' hand to his shoulder as she gave it a light squeeze before practically draping herself off of it. "Naturally I'd be jealous he'd try to replace me."

Davishire growled.

"I normally hold my tongue on your mannerisms, Davina, but as it is my birthday," he began- but that was a good enough cue for Davina to cut in.

"All the more reason for you to be shared with everyone and not be so tangled up in meager conversation with just one woman. Come.." she pressed, giving a light tug to his arm. "You and I have a lot of mingling to do." And she gave a sympathetic smile to Illi. "Such are the obligations of the host."

Illi, worn out from the journey but simultaneously full of energy, had no plans on letting Davina just walk all over her. She imitated the smile (something she was quite good at, for her imagination made her fond of acting) and responded, "The obligations of the host, and of you, though not at the same time. I saw you doing plenty of mingling already Davina, so why don't you take his spot and we can get to know each other better?"

Taking another sip of her wine (though this time not spitting it out), she added, "I'm sure your brother does not need you to coddle him in conversations. I have personally found him to be quite an agreeable man, and any guest here for his birthday has no right to think any different. Come, sit with me."

Davina's eyes shined; impressed, as she looked the girl over head to toe, but at such a suggestion, Davishire gave a rough shake to his arm in hopes to remove his sister, and once she loosened her grip, he stood up.

"Unfortunately, Davina, Illi and I have prior obligations that involve us standing and chatting on the other side of the manor without the likes of you. NOw if you'll excuse us..."
ANd he turned his back to his sister and offered out his arm to Illi.

Davina raised a brow at such a reply.
"Illi?" Such an informal response,a nd she stared cooly over at the girl to see to whom she'd oblige.

Illi grinned at Davishire's unmasked attempt to get rid of Davina. She knew it didn't quite fit with social normalities, but that didn't bother her in the slightest. Her family was full of rambunctious troublemakers, even if some put up the pretense of being proper.

"Well, Davina, it seems my invitation has been declined by someone else! I'm rather shocked," she responded. She wasn't shocked that Davishire had declined it, but simply that Davina hadn't beaten him to it. Illi stood up and accepted his arm before continuing, "I'm afraid our conversations will have to wait until another day, for it would be blasphemous of me to ignore the wishes of the birthday man."

Davishire made haste to usher he and Illi away from his sister, but he could still feel her cold green eyes on their backs. He tried to ignore it and turned to Illi.

"Let's just keep walking until we can find a place less crowded and peaceful. I'd recommend the library, but Davina would know too well to look there." Sighing, the pair stepped out into the hall where a second grand stair case crawled up to the second level of the castle- and to the living area of the family. But that wasn't where he was looking, as he guided Illi along to the shadows beneath it.

"The library would be obvious indeed," Illi responded as she happily walked beside Davishire. "I must say, your house truly is a work of art. I knew it would be big and beautiful and all, but it is grander than all my expectations. I can't help but wonder, is your family the sort that keeps a room just for artwork?"

Illi was intrigued about where they were going, but something stopped her from asking. The idea of a surprise, however small, seemed rather fun.

Davishire shook his head.
"No, good heavens. Though it seems we have rooms for just about everything." He gave a wave of his hand towards more paintings littering the halls. "Each room has at least three or four paintings a piece. I'd say the entire place is an art gallery." Though he didn't sound as enthusiastic as Illi must've been. If anything, he spoke as if it were an irritation.

"The entire place is a gallery?" responded Illi excitedly. "Oh, I imagine the only thing better would be having the entire place be a library. Now that would be the perfect place to live. I must say though, I do appreciate artwork. It isn't as elegant or complex as books, but can still convey a lot nonetheless." She paused to look at Davishire, her gaze lasting longer than she knew it should have. "Have you ever had a portrait painted of you? If so," she paused and turned her head back to the hall, "I would love to see it."

Davishire forced a smile, which seemed almost like a snarl. But in truth, he too wished the paintings could have been books, but her last query almost caught him off guard. Almost. He snorted and looked at her.

"There's a recent one down the hall."
And his face wrinkled slightly, expression dripping with displeasure.

Illi, now determined to hold off on making eye contact with Davis hire in fear of embarrassing herself, did not notice his expression. "Oh, please do show me at some point! I always thought I would enjoy seeing a painting of myself, just to see how I look through someone else's eyes. But it must be so dreary sitting there for them to paint you, I imagine the only way I could stand it is with a book in my hand."

After a slight pause to catch her breath, she added,  "Do you paint?  Oh, not that I want you to paint me. I mean, I wouldn't dislike that, I wouldn't mind being painted by you, but that's not what I'm asking. I mean, just... Do you paint?" She stared at her feet with a cherry face. 

Though his grin went from sour to amused, he still looked grumpy, even when he grinned.
"Paint? Bah!" he swatted away at the idea. "I couldn't paint myself out of a corner. Heaven's no, I don't paint." But he paused to observe her. "Were you asking because you wanted some painting partner? I'll read with you, but painting and the likes... you might as well ask me to help with sewing," he went on distastefully.

But he paused a moment, realizing they were far away from the party, the music just a lull and the only other noise shared was the ticking of a nearby clock, and their voices. He observed her and her rosy cheeks and found himself saying, "You look nice tonight."

Nice. He kicked himself inwardly. He could have chosen a million better words.

Illi laughed as Davishire dismissed his painting skills, though she bet he was better than her. By the sound of it, he had at least touched paint at some point in his life, something she could not say herself. She smiled in elation as he offhandedly said he would read with her, though she did not know if that was a proposal or not. She was just about to get up her courage to ask when—

"Nice?" Illi repeated slowly, raising her head and meeting his eyes with her big green ones. Then, with no attempt at flirtatiousness or normal civility, she quickly covered her face with her hands. She could feel the heat of her blush, which, consequently, made her blush more. "Thank you, oh my goodness, thank you," she bumbled even faster than normal. "No one says that to me, oh, except my siblings, and that old aunty at the bookstore, but"—she moved her hands down so they were now only covering her cheeks and not her eyes—"thank you." Her mind was so blank she hadn't even thought to compliment him back.

Davishire could easily say he was not expecting that reply, but his grin grew a bit wolfish as he looked at her and leaned in a bit closer.
"Is that a blush you're hiding, Miss Illi?" he teased, rather liking seeing her so flustered.

Illi's hands dropped down to her chest, where the clenched them together over her heart. If Davishire hadn't moved just that tiny bit forward, she would have surely looked down or away or anywhere else to regain any amount of composure possible. But that small lean was enough for her to be mesmerized by his brown—no, dark green—eyes. After a brief moment of silence (created by a combination of her shy, mesmerized self and the suddenness of being so boldly called out), Illi hastily replied, "Oh, oh definitely not. Not a blush at all." Although her tone was almost the same as before, there was a hint—just a hint—of flirt. 

There was a silent chuckle only seen in his dark eyes as his grin grew.
"You must have low standards. I should have used bolder words, like beautiful, radiant, or any other such word." His playfulness died away at that as he waved it off. "Bah. I never was all that good with words to describe the fairer sex in such a state." As embarrassing as it was to admit.

Davishire's grin grew and Illi's blush did the same. "Bolder words may have caused more harm than good, my King. Too much shock is bad for one's soul, wouldn't you say?" Although she was slowly gaining the appearance of calmness, her thoughts were repeating he called me beautiful, radiant, beautiful, radiant over and over again. "And I believe your words were quite enough... and that my standards are not low at all. I dare to say that being called nice by you would be better than being called beautiful or radiant by any other man."

After a brief second, Illi realized that her words could have easily sounded like she was saying his compliments mattered more to her than anyone else's, that she liked him. Her attained calmness vanished and, trying to escape saying this truth, she quickly added in, "Ah, I mean, just, because I doubt you are the sort of man that gives compliments to any woman, I mean. Unlike most 'gentlemen'. Not that you aren't a gentleman. But, oh goodness, I've done it again." She paused, took a deep breath, and slowly stated, "If this was a book, you would be the sort of character that would only give true compliments in a situation like this. So, I suppose I assumed, when you called me... nice... that your words were genuine. And that means a lot."

Davishire's grin, once again, became wolfish.
"And I'm certain you've repeated all that three times over, Miss Illi."

"Would a fourth do any good? I'm sure I could continue," Illi responded, finally laughing at herself. "Oh, here I am, here to see you on your birthday, and all I'm doing is making a fool of myself. And yet I remain determined to stay, even though better judgement may tell me to leave before I worsen the situation." Of course, however embarrassed she was, she loved the situation.

"And here it is, on my birthday, and I thought you were trying to make a fool of yourself for my own entertainment. Either way, I'll take it." And he eyed her up before feeling the need to look away. He wasn't like his sister, to let himself get carried away in such a situation. Though it wasn't the first time he considered stealing a kiss. He wasn't entirely the sort of man to do it, but he was enjoying himself thoroughly, and glad to be away from the rest of the party.

"Shall we continue on this tour? There's still the wine cellar and the gardens."

"Ah! If only I had known you thought such a thing, I would have gone right along with it." She paused. "No, that's a lie. I would have felt too guilty in the end." Completely oblivious to Davishire's thoughts, Illi smiled gleefully. "I do not know much about wine, but I would love to see the cellar. As for the garden, well, nothing sounds better!" She knew it was probably best for them to not stay in this hallway, alone, just standing there, for any longer. Though she was innocent, she wasn't foolish. What if some passerby thought that they had snuck away for a kiss! Such a rumor would spread like a wildfire. The thought of it having just entered her head, Illi found herself surprised by her eyes' new desire to wander down and look at Davishire's lips. Instead, she turned back toward their path and said, "Lead the way!"

And just as he was about to lead her onward, he heard the familiar clicking of heels coming down the hall. Panicked, he grabbed onto Illi's hand and said, "Keep close and quiet." And slipped into the closest room they were near, which was a small music room that over looked the back gardens. It was dark in there, as it wasn't a music room for entertaining, more but practice, and as he guided Illi along, he pressed them near the wall as he held his breath and listened to the sound of foot steps in the hall.

Illi let out a small gasp as Davishire grabbed her hand and led her into a room. She had heard the footsteps and, although she obviously did not recognize the clicking of heels like he did, she had a suspicion that it must have been Davina. She could think of no one else who would cause him to act in such an unpredictable—and improper—way. But this conclusion was reached in half a second, for her thoughts otherwise remained completely focused on the feeling of his hand on hers.

With a sudden burst of daringness, gained from the adrenaline of the hiding, Illi quietly teased, "So is this the special place you wanted to bring me?" It was uncharacteristic of her to be so gutsy, but she was nearly positive the darkness of the room would hide her nervous red face. Furthermore, Illi decided that it was her turn to try to make Davishire flustered, finally having realized that he was doing it purposefully to her just beforehand.

Davishire gave a heated snort and glared at her.
"Hardly," he hissed beneath his breath. "I just would rather not-" But he froze, swallowing his breath as he heard the foot steps approach. Heart pounding in his ears, he pulled Illi closer and prayed Davina would simply leave. She just had to pause right outside the door, but once he heard the click of heels leaving, he released a breath, but not his hold on Illi.

"Wretched woman," he growled, body shaking. "She's worse than a hound. A wolf."

Well, Illi decided, she should have known better than to think she could have succeeded in her teasing. In fact, just saying the words had likely embarrassed her more than him. Her eyes widened as he pulled her closer. She knew he wasn't doing it to be intimate, and that he likely thought nothing of it, but that didn't stop her mind from racing. Illi could only imagine how hot her hands must be getting, for her whole body felt like fire. She didn't let go.

"Throw her a treat?" Illi responded quietly. "... Or a dead rabbit, I suppose."

Davishire snorted.
"I wouldn't throw her a bone. I'm sure she could find a way to use it against me."
He moved away from the wall, creeping towards the window.
"I think the coast is clear." But then his shoulder hit into a music stand, and he swore beneath his breath as it clattered to the ground.

Illi gasped as the music stand fell, its sounds echoing throughout the room and into the hall. "Oh, um, um, um, we could, ah, can you sing? Or something?" Despite being a story teller, Illi couldn't think of any good way out of their potential predicament. Her mind was too cluttered and too scattered.

"Or we could just run for it." Not a very high class thing to do, but it was the only other thing she could think of.

It was too late to think. The door was swinging open. And  the only way he could think to cut Davina back was to give her exactly what she was looking to find-
And he moved forward, powerful arms pressing Illi swiftly, though gently, against the wall. And were she to protest or speak any further on the matter, she'd find his lips sealed heatedly over hers.

Before Illi even knew what was happening, she was pressed against the wall with Davishire's lips on her own. Maybe Davina said something, maybe she hadn't. Illi didn't know. Her big eyes stared up at Davishire for a moment in astonishment. She could feel the heat from his lips travel throughout her body, a spark that set off all sorts of connections. It felt, well, amazing. But she did not want it.

Illi pushed him away from her as hard as she could, even though she felt so weak. Her face was full of despair—and even a tinge of betrayal. She could feel her eyes start to water, but she wasn't going to cry. She was determined not to. Illi bit her lip to help her hold back her tears. But there wasn't anywhere she could go, not with Davina at the door. So she just stood there, quietly, praying for an escape to present itself.

She had wanted to kiss Davishire, she wouldn't deny that. But she dreamt of a perfect first kiss, like one from a book. She hadn't wished for her lips to be taken so halfheartedly. To be used. Illi lowered her head, feeling foolish and frail. She didn't want to have to look at anyone, not Davishire, not Davina, not anyone. If only she could leave and write and escape...

Two clicks of her heels and she stopped, and Davina found herself staring at the pair against the corner wall.

"And here I'd think my dear brother would remain a virgin on his birthday."

Davina's words made Davishire shake with rage, as he paused a moment before turning from Illi, every bit of him as menacing as a wolf.

"And you have no right to speak. So help me Davina, I'll remove you from this god damn estate, that I will!" He was shaking, anger over loading all senses. But he kept himself infront of Illi- to hide her, protect her from Davina and any prying eyes. But Davina was thankfully alone.

"Tut, tut, such threats," Davina drawled. She hung back by the door, however, and didn't bother to give Illi a good look over. "But really, what you do behind closed doors... " she went on with a sigh. "It is my concern. And whatever transpired here... will end here."

Illi kept staring at the ground. She wish she could tune out all the noise, something that she was normally good at, but her ears were acting more sensitive than normal. Of course. She was scarlet red in humiliation, but also in a bit of anger. Why did she have to deal with all of this? She had known Davishire to be despising of his sister, but had not expected that he would go this far just to upset her.

Although she still didn't move or raise her head, Illi had enough irritation to finally speak up. Her words were quiet but pointed as she said, "Nothing transpired here."

The words were mos unexpected, as Davishire looked down to Illi, and only then did he feel the effects of his action. As a gentleman, he had done an unjustice to the sweet woman before him-
but the unending nerve that was his sister always sent him into a mindless rage.

He was tired of it. Tired of it all.  He tensed, hands clenching into a tight first before he turned around again, glaring at his sister.

"Nothing would have happened," he snapped. "But if you want to be so meddlesome go back to the party and take your venomous gossip with you. And you can tell them whatever tale your dark spider's silken tongue can weave because I'm through with it. And this is through. I will not have such unsavory things transpire infront of Miss Treyburn." His neck was red, as was his face. "I can court whomever I wish, whenever I wish with lack of insult. Status will only sting at your back, and not mine."
And he turned to Illi, his face twisting in both guilt, and rage.

"Will you allow me to escort you out?"
He hoped she'd say yes. He needed to apologize to her. To explain. And his hands sweat at the prospect he might have lost everything by doing one act to fool them all.

Even Illi, despite her attraction to Davishire, was not convinced by his speech. He was trying to place all the blame on his sister, even though his actions caused the situation. And, she realized, hers. She shouldn't have allowed herself to be caught in such a situation... and yet, had the kiss not happened, she would not have had any regrets.

Illi was upset, but it pained her heart to even think of rejecting his proposal. She could see his guilt. After a short pause, she slowly responded, "Yes." If nothing else, that meant she could get out of this embarrassing room.

Davina simply stared at the two, gaze hard, judging. But there was a hint of mirth there. She couldn't say she was completely against her brother finally getting frisky with a woman-
She would have just preferred it to be a whore- or a woman of higher status.

Connections were everything, and her family's position was by no means in a precarious place. She just hoped her brother didn't ruin things. If so...
She'd have to take matters into her own hands.  With a nod, of her head, she stepped aside to allow the pair to pass, as Davishire offered a rigid arm to Miss Illi. And as they walked away from Davina, her eyes boring into them felt nothing like the leaded guilt in his gut.

Once they were well out of ear shot, and then some, he released a breath and told her evenly, "If you'd like to take your leave, I'd understand."

Although only her reputation might have been tarred infront of his sister, and in an act to rebel against her, he knew Davina would say nothing. That was the point. And though there was even a point at all for it, it was still ungentlemanly of him to act in such a manner. He wondered what had become of him just then, and part of him realized....

Had this all come to fold over his own repression of feelings towards her.

Illi stared at the ground for a few seconds. She didn't know how to respond to him. Her chest hurt. Why did her chest hurt? She had read that hearts throbbed when someone was in love, but she didn't feel very much in love. She felt angry.

She lifted her head to yell—well, Illi's version of yelling, which is a slightly faster and barely louder speaking than normal—at him, but then her eyes met his. She couldn't explain what, but she saw something in his eyes that made her hesitate. Her anger started to melt, slowly, and her bottom lip dropped into a pout. 'Where would I go?" she asked, still a little sharply. She wasn't going to forgive him just like that.

"Away." Came his voice, eyes never leaving hers.

Illi was tempted to turn around and start walking. Not because she necessarily wanted to, but rather because she wanted to know if he would stop her. But instead she stayed, maintaining their eye contact. She opened her lips, and then closed them. Opening them again, she asked, "Should I?"

"You don't deserve this."

Illi's eyes grew wide. "I don't deserve this?" she asked, her growing passivity having faded. "You say that as if I put myself into this situation. Or, if nothing else, as if you aren't involved in it. I don't deserve this. But what can I do now?"

He gave her a solemn look.
"I should not have invited you. I know my family, these events, well enough I should not have been so selfish." And at her question, he studied her face. "I could escort you back to your carriage," he went on, softly. She would be safer far away from Davina, and all other prying eyes.And most of all... he was afraid and guilty to be so near to her. He didn't deserve her near by his side. He was a fool to think he did. Men like his, family's like his...
They were never giving such choices.

She was not fooled by his expression. Slowly, and a bit coldly, she responded, "Your family did not cause this. This event did not cause this." Illi's face turned into one of lonely disappointment as she asked, "Is this really all the humiliation you know? You stole a kiss from me—my first kiss—without even asking, and you blame everything except yourself?"

He stared at her for a long time. Her first kiss. An idea like that should have meant much more to him,a nd he was ashamed further still by her query.

"No." He sighed, stopping with her in the hall. "I blame myself most of all."

Illi looked at Davishire. She wanted to yell and him and she wanted to hug him and she didn't know what she wanted. After the weight of the silence became too much, she shook her head and replied, "I think I will go back to my carriage." She paused. Despite them having kissed, she felt further away from him now than when she had been home. Formally, she added, "I would hate to ruin your party by keeping you away from your other guests, and, well, I am sure my aunt would worry if I returned to her place too late."

He didn't hesitate in his nod. Nor did he correct her when she tried to take some of the blame. As far as he was concerned, he had already ruined the night, and as he escorted her to her carriage, and helped closed her in, he stood back, looking at her through the carriage window and feeling an absolute, defeated fool.

"Safe travels, Miss Treyburn."

Illi looked back at Davishire as the carriage started taking off. Then she turned around, slumped down in her seat, and started crying. She didn't know why exactly she couldn't control her tears now, when she had been doing fine just a few minutes beforehand, but she couldn't help it. Now that Davishire was out of view, all her emotions came pouring out.

By the time she reached her aunt's house, it was quite dark outside. Clouds covered the stars in a wicked premonition. She had stopped crying by then and her the redness in her eyes was barely noticeable. With a deep breath, Illi went inside, greeted her aunt, talked for a while (out of respect), and then went to bed. Her exhausted emotions put her to rest almost immediately.

The night went on, and Davishire remained a quiet, looming figure in the corner. He spoke to no one if he hadn't needed to, drank a bit too much (but over a long period of time). He never danced, nor ate any of the dessert, and anyone that tried to introduce their daughters was left with the cold shoulder.

He was thankful when the night ended, the last guest leaving well after midnight. And though he stood, watching them leave, he left the curb to return to the manor as soon as it was proper, ignoring the clucking from his mother. She was always an ignored figure. Perhaps it's why he and his siblings had turned out as awful as they had. But without his father, and he as the male figure head, he would use that status to his advantage and waved off even Davina, who tried to poke around for more information about where Miss Treyburn had gone.

"I'm retiring for the night. You should do the same."

"And about Miss Treyburn...?"

"There is nothing to say about her." And up the stairs he went, disappearing into his room.

Illi woke up with the sunrise, freezing cold. She quickly got out of bed, jumped on her toes to the window, and gasped. "Gorgeous," she whispered to herself. The entire city was covered in white. She opened the window and stuck her head outside, looking up at the sky. Fat, fluffy snow was falling at an incredible rate. Opening her mouth, she caught a few snowflakes before quickly putting her head back inside and closing the window. She ran back to her bed and jumped on, dunking her cold face in the blankets. Snow was the prettiest thing, even if it did make her so chilly.

"Illi?" her aunt called from downstairs. "Is that you I hear?"

"Yes Aunty!" Illi yelled back gleefully.

"Get dressed and come down here! I have something I have to talk to you about!"

She threw on layers of clothes, determined to stay warm and even more determined to convince her aunt to let her go outside and walk. Illi went downstairs and drank the tea that had just been freshly brewed for her. Her aunt's wrinkled face looked worried and there was suddenly a sinking feeling in Illi's stomach. "My dear, I am afraid I heard rumors that this snow is only the beginning of a large storm. You may be stuck here a day, or a week, I cannot say. But I could not bear to let you travel home until the weather is safe."

Illi smiled. "If it is alright with you Aunty, I would gladly stay here. I rarely get to see you anyway!"

Davishire stayed up until the sunrise, unable to sleep, and unable to stop thinking about Illi. As the snow got worse and worse, he felt himself become as cold and distant as the weather, that was until it seemed the snow wasn't going to stop-
and talk through the house was that this was only the beginning of a very large winter storm.

Davishire heard that and began to storm through the house, marching into the parlor and taking a look over the local map. He knew enough to know who Illi's Aunt was, as he knew most within Wellspeer, however, upon seeing it's location and to how close it was from the direction of the storm...

He had a felt a cold chill ripple up from his belly. With haste, he threw on his winter attire and stormed out towards the stables. His sister and mother thought not much of it. Davishire would go on brooding rides in terrible weather more often than not, so when Grace Callister raised a brow as her son galloped off out of the gates, she sighed.

"He needs to get married."

"Quite."

"I don't suppose I could go on a walk?" asked Illi. Her aunt looked at her disapprovingly, so she quickly added, "I did not bring any winter clothes here. I would quite appreciate being able to go out and buy some." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either.

With a sigh, her aunt agreed and gave Illi some money. "Thank you, Aunty!" Illi said while giving her aunt a hug. She spent her time finishing her tea before heading out into the snow. Little kids all bundled up ran around throwing snowballs at each other. Illi laughed, wishing she was able to go back to those times. If she threw a snowball now, it would be considered so improper. Oh, how easy life was when you were young... now she had to worry about kisses and men.

Illi's mood was dampened by the thought, but only temporarily. She hadn't walked for long before she discovered a bookstore! With a bounce in her step, she walked in and started browsing around. There was no better place to be than a bookstore—well, other than a library, that is.

He wasn't sure how long it would take him to get to Miss Treyburn's Aunt's home, but by the time he was on the road to her village, the snow was coming down two fold, making it near impossible to see. But he was determined, and not about to let snow get in his way. He had to make sure Miss Treyburn was alright- or he'd never forgive himself if her safety had been compromised because of him- Even if the situation hadn't turned out so horribly when they had said their goodbyes.

Illi banished herself from the bookstore after around an hour. The money she had was just for clothes, and any more time spent surrounded by what she wanted but could not have would start to become torture. To her surprise, the light layer of snow outside had thickened considerably. She carefully but quickly stepped in the footprints of those before her until she found a store to buy shoes and clothes in.

She spent her time looking around the store, completely oblivious to the antsy owner who wanted to go out for lunch before the snow fell heavier but wanted a customer more.

While Illi was making her rounds in the town, Davishire was heading up the road to her Aunt's manor. The house name of Westinson was chiseled into a welcoming slab of rock nearly drowned in snow as he passed. His dapple grey steed chuffed as he pulled it's reins to a halt and quickly tied him beneath an outdoor trellis nearby.

Rushing up to the door, Mrs. Westinson greeted him, but was surprised by his arrival, gesturing for him to come on inside.

"Oh my good heavens, you look atrocious!" But then remembering her manners, she bowed before Lord Callister. "Forgive me for my brash manners, it's just you look a fright. Have you traveled far in this weather?"

"Yes," he went on, catching his breath. "Illi... I mean, Miss Treyburn- I've come to make sure she has arrived in your care."

"Miss Treyburn? Oh.. she's gone out to town. She should be back any time now. May I have Walter take your coat?" she inquired, her doorman stepping forward, but Davishire shook his head.

"No." He turned like a hawk to Mrs. Westerson. "In town you say? And you allowed it in such weather?"

"Oh, the tailor is not far from here. Even in bad weather I doubt she could get lost. But dear heavens, the snow is coming down rather thickly now..."

Davishire bared his teeth.
"But she is safe aside from that?" he asked, standing at attention. Her aunt nodded. "Then I bid you good day. I will go to the town to see that she is alright."

And he marched back outside as a massive gust of wind struck at his face.

After choosing satisfactory boots and a thick dress, Illi paid the shopkeeper and changed her shoes immediately. She would have changed her dress too, if there was somewhere private to do so, but instead had to wait until she returned home. Carrying her flats and her new dress with her, Illi returned home. She was ready to return to warmth and eat something.

Walter opened the door for her and took her stuff, immediately turning around to bring it all to her room. Illi's aunt stood there waiting. "Oh Illi!" she exclaimed, giving the girl an unexpected hug. "Oh, I was worried you had gotten lost or buried in the snow! The gentleman came for you, I thought he would have returned you home by now! He seemed quite worried, indeed, and quite upset that I had let you go out. The snow is so thick and the wind so heavy, I was starting to fear you had simply blown away!"

Illi stared at her aunt dubiously. "Gentleman?"

"Oh yes, Lord Callister. Such a gentleman he is! If I was just oh, thirty some years younger, I would have liked him very much! To brave the snow just to secure the safety of one of his lesser guests, that is the definition of a true leader." Mrs. Westinson's eyes got big. "Wait, you mean you did not meet with him?! I assumed he had sent you back to me! Oh my, he must still be looking for you." Her aunt took a breath and Illi was just about to speak, but then the breath ended. "Oh, sit by the fire dear. Walter got it all warmed up for us."

"But Davi... I mean, Lord Callister? You said he is out in that snow, looking for me? I'm afraid he won't be able to find me, Aunty."

Her aunt shook her head and guided her towards the sofa by the fire. "Nonsense, dear. He seemed a very sensible gentleman, I am sure he will return soon if he does not find you. In any case, I will not have you going out into this weather any more today!" Illi sighed and sat down. "If he does not return, I promise I shall send out Walter, alright?"

Walter was an old man. Sending him out in the cold made him inwardly sigh. He hated this weather. It made his bones ache. But he stood as courteous as ever, hands clasped behind his back as he waited near the door.

Elsewhere, Davishire was making laps around the town. The tailor had since closed,a nd any path taken by Miss Illi were long buried in the snow. Not a soul was out, save for a few hurrying home, and none that he stopped had seen her. He paused at the town square, his breath coming out in hot white puffs as he looked around. But then he saw a figure by the bridge. It looked like a woman, and he kicke dhis heels into his steed's side and galloped that away.

Illi looked up at her aunt with big eyes. She barely opened her mouth before Mrs. Westinson spoke. "Walter, please go look for the young gentleman. If you can't find him relatively quickly, just return back here. I wouldn't want you getting sick."

"Yes ma'am," Walter replied as he drudged out into the snow. Couldn't they hire him a young, fit assistant by now?

Meanwhile, Illi sat, drinking warm milk and finishing her sandwich. A few moments later, she stood up and said, "I'm going to get a book. I shall be right back." And she went upstairs, came back down, and started reading. Anything to make the time pass quicker. She did not want to see Davishire, not truly, but she would rather him be in the house than out in the cold.

Almost an hour had passed and only Walter had returned, shaking off the snow as Mrs. Westerson rose to greet him.

"Where is Lord Callister?"

Walter turned to her, frowning. "I do not know, milady. But the snow falls thick. He is a young, strong man. I'm sure he's sought shelter by now."

Illi watched Walter return in horror. Davishire wasn't with him. It was possible, of course, that he had sought shelter. But the fear that he hadn't overruled her logic. As her aunt was talking to Walter, Illi returned upstairs and changed into her new, thick dress. Then, in a moment of courageous foolishness, she ran down the stairs and through the door and back into the streets.

Walter promptly excused himself, telling Mrs. Westinson that he was a servant, not a slave, and was not going to chase the young girl. "Plus," he added, "we both know that I could not catch Miss Illi." Mrs. Westinson sighed in frustration, but she too was unwilling to chase Illi.

Illi had not realized just how thick it was snowing—she was barely able to see a few feet in front of her! But she kept walking, anyway, determined to find Davishire.

There were so many balls and politics and god damned weather to contend with, he hadn't considered his status giving him a mark on his head to those rebelling. But he found himself, horseless, and fist fighting a couple of men who demanded not only money, but threatened his life, too.

Had he been a lesser man, the punches and magic used to burn him in whip like attacks, he'd not have lasted as long as he did. But if one thing is genes allowed for it was stubbornness and pride.

"You're all mongrels! Cads who pretend to be heroes!" he barked at them, and the second the fight took them to the iced over river, Davishire eventually found himself overwhelmed, and his face on the ice. He wasn't sure how it happened- someone hit him from behind, striking him and making him bleed. For some reason, they were kicking him and cursing him as if he were the Grand Duke himself, and were his head not ringing, and the world swirling around him- he would have continued to fight back.

He heard a hiss, was that the ice? He couldn't tell, he could barely move, but a sudden blast of a rifle, and the shout of the city guards was all he heard, before he heard his attackers swearing over head.
"My powers..."

"It's a mordecai."

"Let's get the hell out of here!"

"Ditch the damn Duke, first."

As if he was a duke! It was that fiery thought that would be his last thought until he felt himself being dragged across the ice. He bared his teeth, trying to move when suddenly the sting of ice cold water hit him as the men tossed in in through where the ice had broke.

"Grab that stone. Throw it on his belly! Make the god damn Duke-kisser drown!"

And as he turned, finding just the barest amount of strength to turn and try to fight back, the massive rock was dropped onto him, winding him and sinking him deeper below the waters, below the ice.

And he felt so pathetic and weak in the moment, seeing Miss Treyburn's face flash before his eyes before his entire being tensed and he screamed-
Before cold water rushed suffocating into his mouth.

The men must have taken off, but whoever it was iwth the rifle was quick to dash over the river. The men with him were called over, pick axes produced as he pointed to where Davishire had floated beyond the broken ice to a much thicker sheet.

"Break the ice open men! We can't have the poor man drown!"

And soon Davishire was pulled from the waters, unmoving, and soon his blueing flesh was prickling over with frost.

"Sweet Ansgar's name.." one of the men breathed. "It's Lord Callister."

Illi ran through the town, though she felt it was all hopeless. He could be in an alley, and she wouldn't even be able to see him! Where could he be? All the stores had closed by now, no one wanted to stay in the cold or be snowed in. Nor were there any customers shopping anyway. Just as she was about to give up and start crying out of frustration, she heard the crunch of footsteps running through the snow.

"Did you hear?!" yelled a young, husky voice.

"Here what?" responded another.

"They said that Lord Callister fell in the river! They fetched him out though, he's blue as can be, but he is living!"

Illi's heart froze. "Wait!" she shouted as she ran toward the voices. "Wait! Where is he? Please, tell me!" The men—no, soldiers—had stopped at hearing her voice.

"This is no place for a lady to be, ma'am. I would recommend you to return to your house immediately. You can place your trust in us, we are going to him right now to take care of him."

"Please," begged Illi. "Just let me follow. I am... acquainted with the gentleman." She wasn't going to say that he was there for her. That would just cause a scandal to spread across the town. The soldiers looked at each other, then nodded. Illi thanked them and followed them to the river.

Soldiers there pointed them to a nearby house, saying that the old lady there agreed to keep him inside by the fire to warm him up. At that point, Illi didn't even wait for the soldiers before running into the house. She saw him, laying right next to the fire, looking absolutely frigid and... bloody?

"Davishire!" Illi cried in fright.

If he was conscious, he didn't show it, remaining unmoving on the sofa. He had been stripped of his clothing and layered in many blankets while a fire crackled hungrily in the hearth.

Illi turned to the soldier sitting next to Davishire. "He's alive, right, Sir? He's alive?!" She didn't even dare think about if the answer was no. Luckily for her, the soldier nodded. "Thank the heavens," she repeated, over and over again as she went over to Davishire. The other soldiers walked into the house, but Illi didn't acknowledge him.

She bent down and placed her hand on his cheek. It was freezing cold. Looking back at the soldier, she asked, "What happened to him? Who did this? He couldn't have just fallen into the river, he isn't stupid. And especially not with those injuries! Tell me, who did this? Have you caught them?!" Illi, one who never felt much hatred at all, was furious. How could someone do this to Davishire?!

The leader of the men removed his hat.
"A band of rebels, milady. They attacked him. The old woman of this house seen it with her own eyes, that she did. Had she not he might not hve been recovered, and left to an icy grave. Although, he is well now, milady, these types of injuries can heal well but in his condition.... We can't say if he'll live long enough to the morrow."

"To the morrow?!" Illi repeated. "No, no that cannot be. He is a strong man, I am sure of it. Strong body, strong heart, strong will." She almost started crying. Instead, suddenly, she stood up. "Tell me, please, is there anything I can do? I will pick up medicines, tend to the fire, anything. Let me help!"

"Heat..." the old woman interjected, walking into the room, carrying a steaming pot of tea. "Heat is all that can cure the cold." She gestured to Davishire's strewn form. "The wet clothes would have killed him. I aim to tend to the fire and check his temperature from time to time. Lost a dog that way to the river. It's hellishly cold, especially this winter, this day."

The old woman's logic made sense enough, Illi decided. She curtsied and said, "Thank you for saving him. I am sure his family and many others will greatly appreciate it, including me." She paused. "Would you like me to tend to the fire for you? Check his temperature? I don't know how to know what temperature is wrong, but I am sure I could learn quickly."

The old woman nodded.
"You are welcome to stay here as he recovers, child." Turning to the soldiers, she raised her eyes as them as it looked like they were about ready to leave.

"We will scout the area before night fall, in case the rebels return. You would do well to keep your doors and windows locked this evening."

The woman nodded and the men saw themselves out before the woman turned to Illi.
"There's a pile of firewood in the back room below the loft. The soldiers helped pile it inside so it could stay dry in this dreadful weather."

Illi thanked the old lady again and waved goodbye to the soldiers. After a brief moment, her eyes widened and she said, "One second, ma'am. I will be right back." Illi ran outside and yelled out to the soldiers. "Excuse me, would one of you please tell my aunt that I will not be returning tonight? Mrs. Westinson!" A soldier nodded and Illi sighed a breath of relief.

Heading back inside, she took a look at the fire. It seemed strong enough, for now. "Excuse me ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you, but what is your name? I am Illi Treyburn, my aunt is Mrs. Westinson. And, if there is nothing else you need from me, would I possibly be able to borrow a book? I think reading will help me settle my nerves considerably."

"Most books I 'ave are for cooking. But I have a few novellas I read in my youth. Dusty they are, in the sitting room to our left. You are welcome to it, and to the brandy by the stairs. I bet you could use a little to warm you up, too."
And kindly, she smiled as she gave her name. "I'm Mrs. Bensbourne. A pleasure to meet you."

Illi went where Mrs. Bensbourne said to and grabbed a novella called "Dragon's Cry." She skipped the brandy. Returning to Davishire's side, Illi sat down on the ground next to him. She opened the book and started reading it—aloud. Maybe, she hoped, he could hear her.

The book was an adventure, a romance, and a surprisingly educational book on dragons. Every once in a while, Illi would get up to add wood to the fire. Mrs. Bensbourne would occasionally bring a snack or some tea and food to Illi, allowing her to stay by Davishire's side. But mostly, Illi just read.

It soon grew dark and the old woman brought in a candle. She set it on the table beside her, and adjusted it's perch.

"I'm going to head to bed, deary. Will you be alright?"

Illi glanced up from her book. "Yes, thank you very much. This... this is very kind of you. Taking care of him, letting me stay, everything." The old woman smiled at Illi, and then head to her room.

Illi took her hand, again putting it on Davishire's cheek. It was warmer than before, but she had no idea how warm it was supposed to be. Setting the book down next to her, Illi got up and replenished the fire. Then she sat down again. Illi kept reading until, despite her best efforts to stay awake, her eyes closed and she fell into a deep sleep, book still in her hand.

The snows continued to come down, inch after inch with each passing hour. By morning, the door was locked closed behind near five feet of snow. And Davishire had yet to stir, but he was at least looking much less blue than he had before.

The woman had awoken many hours before Illi,a nd was heating up a large pot of water, preparing a bath before moving over to where Illi lay. She smiled at the child, then looked over at Davishire, touching her own hand to his forehead and frowned. He was still so very cold.

Illi awoke long after the sun had risen. To her embarrassment, she found herself laying right next to Davishire. Illi sat up with a start and immediately felt for his temperature. She did it for self reassurance more than anything, and he was warmer. At least, she thought he was. Illi got up and added wood to the fire. She wasn't sure how it kept going all night. Or did the old woman start it again? Illi didn't have a clue, but she sat back down next to Davishire. Unsure what to do, she simply started reading again.

"Deary," the old woman interrupted as she stepped back into the room. "I've got water heating for a bath. I fear Lord Callister's temperature is still too low. I think if we move him into the bath, a nice and heated one to be certain, it should help bring his temperature up to something much more normal."

Illi's cheeks turned bright pink. "M-move him to the bath?" She turned to the lady with wide eyes. "How do we do that?" The lady wasn't suggesting that they moved him into the bath, while he was wearing nothing, was she?! Surely there was someone else around, someone Mrs. Bensbourne had to help out.

She pat the girl's shoulder.
"We'll have to carry him."
And then she paused to realize..
"Oh, deary.. just don't look at him if you're offended by a man. I bet you ain't married now are you?" And she gave the girl a bit of a sheepish smile.

Illi shook her head. "No," she replied quietly. If she was, she doubt she'd be so embarrassed. "H-how can I carry him without looking? I don't want to ram him into anything," Illi added nervously.

She pat Illi's hand.
"Leave it to me." And she moved to grab a small clothe and lifted the covers up just so she herself could see,t hen worked at tieing the thing aroun dhim.

"Best modesty we can provide. But the man's life is still up in the air- and though I'm not as young as I used to be, I'd rather risk hurting my back than knowing I let a man die on my settee. Now, come on," she beckoned, and removed the blankets to reveal Davishire's near nude form.

Illi stood uncomfortably, trying to look anywhere but at Davishire. At the old lady's urging, however, she awkwardly helped carry him to the bath. She sighed a breath of relief when they put him in it. Then, immediately, she turned around and covered her bright face with her hands.

"W-we don't have to wash him or anything, right?" Illi hesitantly asked.

"No worries, dear. We shall let him soak. I'll put some oils in the water to help keep him clean. Who knows how long he'll be out, or how long this snow will last."

Illi stood there for a moment, before asking, "Would you allow me to make some food? As a thank you of sorts, for all of this. And, well, I am starting to get hungry as well. I promise I know how to cook, I used to help cook for all my siblings sometimes. Not so much anymore, since they have all gone their own ways, but still."

The old lady laughed. "Feel free. The kitchen is on the right, you can use anything. I'll keep an eye on this gentleman here. Let me know if you need anything!"

"I will, thank you!" Illi responded as she hurriedly exited the room. After surveying the ingredients available, she started making a salad and slicing some bread to go on the side.

The water began to cool, and was the lady of the house was checking it, she frowned and began to warm some more. Adding more hot water, she felt that would suffice for now and returned about her business. She wasn't even gone a few moments when the unconscious man began to stir.

Illi finished up her salad. "Mrs. Bensbourne, food is ready!" she stated loudly. After a few moments of silence, she poked her head out of the kitchen into the room where Davishire was in the tub (though she made sure not to turn her head anywhere near him). "Mrs. Bensbourne?" Illi called.

Gritting his teeth, the first noise she might have heard was a low growl. But he wasn't fully there, awakening with only enough energy for that, and still, no Mrs. Bensbourne to be seen.

Not hearing a reply, Illi decided to stay in the kitchen and see if she could make something else. She didn't want to eat without the host. Illi picked up the plates and bowls to move to the table (and free up the counter). But her balancing skills failed her and everything clattered to the floor. Luckily, it was all metal. Unluckily, the food scattered all over the floor. "Oh phooey!" declared Illi before starting to pick it all up.

Needless to say, when Lord Callister awoke, it wasn't a quiet affair. The second he realised something was wrong, he leaped from the tub, bellowing,
"Where in Ansgar's damned name are my clothes! And where the hell am I!" And roared as he tripped over the tub side, crashing into the dressing screen.

Illi screamed, startled, and dropped everything again when Davishire yelled and tripped out of the tub. She immediately dropped to the ground and covered her eyes in fear that he might wander into the kitchen for some unknown reason.

After a few moments, Illi slowly called out, "You're in Mrs. Bensbourne's house. She saved you from the lake!"

It was about this time Mrs. Bensbourne herself flew into the room and exclaimed at the site,
"Oh, dear Ansgar in Heaven, Lord Callister, please! You were injured and are our guest- Oh!" She scrambled to his side as Davishire continued to rage in confusion, he pushing her away at first while she protested, "Oh, but the bath was to help give you more heat! We were not foul playing you at all, milord!"

"We?" he went on, finally yanking the offered towel from Mrs. Bensbourne's fingers before he recalled the voice he heard from earlier and his features softened, and a sensation of worry rippled up his spine. He stumbled towards the kitchen, clumsily holding the towel while leaving a path of wet foot prints in his wake.

He clung to the kitchen's door frame while panting and staring back at Jillian with wild eyes.

"MIss Illi!" And then he recalled his towel and promptly turned about, and held the towel all the more firmer towards his form. "And what of her?" he asked, eyes going to Mrs. Bensbourne with ferocity. His voice was growling from deep within his chest as she went on to assure him.

"Oh! She came to care for you! Claiming she knew you, milord."

Davishire stiffened, before looking over his shoulder at Illi.
"Is this true?"

"The young lady only wished to help!" But a protesting old woman was silenced by Davishire's seering gaze.