theo. (escutcheon) wrote in emillion, |
The answer seemed to satisfy Theo’s curiosity, and he gave out a low grunt that resembled something like approval. Perhaps there had been some small part of him that had hoped Juliette shared his interest in the Knights of the Peace, but as he looked down to study the squire’s face, he realized that he still felt a strong sense of pride of toward her. After all, the Kingsguard still served the realm, if only in their own unique way—and he wasn’t always in the habit of scowling at them. “Grandfather?” He held out his arm for her to take. Distracted from his earlier concern of making a scene at the palace, his profound temper being what it was, Theo had found a desire to make conversation instead (or to try, at least). The responsibility to keep up with his mentorly duties was something dutifully remembered as well, or so it now seemed. “Tell me.” “I never met him,” Juliette said. No doubt everyone was aware of her family situation -- had she had grandparents to take her, then the very public exchange of custody to Alys would not have occurred. “From what I have been told, my grandfather on my father’s side was a knight, sworn in service to the king.” A leader of men, she had read, and wondered (with some dismay) if any of that ability could possibly be hereditary. “He was raised to his title by His Majesty for exemplary service to the crown.” There were many stories about just what had happened and why this had occurred -- she feared she might never know exactly, and there was no one left to ask. Still, despite years of being told that such a heritage was shameful, far inferior to that of a tenth-generation lady like her mother, she could not help but think of her grandfather with pride. Perhaps it was her eternal desire to be useful instead of… ornamental. “He died before I was born,” she finished quietly. “I am told he was a very… impressive man.” “Aye,” Theo said, seemingly in agreement. His was not a very vivid imagination, but he tried to picture what a man such as Juliette’s grandfather might’ve looked like all the same. As they moved around the room, he spotted more of the Kingsguard lingering around the wall, each with perfect posture and unwavering eyes. Some looked young and freshly sworn in, but there were a few from what he could see (being as toweringly tall as he was) that looked like veterans. “Think any of them might know more?” He gestured with one large hand to the nearest guards in view. “Tales passed down and the like.” She looked around, too, her imagination caught despite her best efforts. That one, there, the grizzled veteran with his snowy hair, or perhaps that woman, with the deeply lined face and steel-gray bun… “Perhaps,” she said. “I would not wish to be a nuisance while they work.” And there was no reason for her to approach them otherwise -- as she had said, she was hardly a frequent guest in this palace. “It is an interesting bit of… what little family history I have.” She had made up for it with fiction and daydreams -- and had, perhaps, latched on to her unlikely goal for this reason: her grandfather had become more than what was expected of him through the Kingsguard. In some way, she wanted to do this, too -- to rise above those expectations she did not wish to fulfill and devote herself instead to a better purpose (even now, she thought she might rather be against the wall than in the ballroom, for all that they were invited and honored guests). “Another time,” he said with a shrug. Theo had little worry about being a nuisance himself, but then, this was why he had chosen to brood near the wall to begin with—so that he might not find the urge to rile anyone unnecessarily. Remembering as much, he let the matter fall aside. But the seed had now been planted, and Theo would perhaps approach the idea again at a later time. |