Esther (glass) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-08-28 11:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, esther glass, lavitz fon amell |
Who: Lavitz & Esther
What: Concerns, marriage and heist talks.
Where: Glass estate
When: Today!
Rating: PG-ish
Status: Complete
The Glass estate had always been approachable in a way that Lavitz had admired for most of his life. Unlike his family's, it felt more inviting, less daunting. He supposed it did help that the family who lived there was met with equal admiration, if not more. Cyril Glass had been a trusted friend for so long, he couldn't recall when they'd even met. At some pretentious, noble function, no doubt. But it was Cyril's daughter Esther who he'd taken the greatest shine to. She was full of youth and spirit, of seemingly unfailing kindness, all of it reflecting through her actions, her eyes. Knowing her while she'd still been a child had given him the opportunity to watch her grow and discover what path in life to take. Her decision to become a mage had changed nothing; she was still that kind girl he'd known all along. Perched on a couch in her living room, Lavitz was slowly beginning to regret having come at all. Hours after that breakfast announcement, he still felt the sting, and only part of him hoped it wouldn't show in his face. The other parts of him, he knew, were still processing the shock. Esther was hardly the one at fault here ― especially since she'd called for him without knowing a thing about his family's collective decision to shackle him to some innocent woman ― but he couldn't help but think that being here was doing her a disservice. If he wasn't his usual self, or giving enough comfort and advice, there was no one to blame but himself. He swallowed a sigh. "You can start from the beginning, if you want." The beginning was a complicated place, as she could never really reveal what machinations she had decided to set in motion with her choices; in the end she had picked Emillion — no, Mathieu, over her duty. Knowing that now caused her fingers to clench the delicate teacup, flower patterns with the crest of her family. “My lord Wulfram has been acting very odd as of late.” True enough, since he was still quite displeased with her indiscretion, but it worked to her favour now. Marriage was nothing to fear, leaving was. My loyalty, as it always has been is not— “It… I do not dare bring this up to my father, as I do not wish him to think me disobedient.” Her father, of course, also being aware of Esther’s dalliance and not willing to listen to any pleas that might derail the wedding. “I do not object to my marriage, but I am greatly concerned for my dear Wulfram. In truth, I fear that I may not know him well at all.” A pause for effect and the cup was lifted to her lips, Esther had little to fake in terms of her distress; lying about the reasons behind it was enough. Next to her, Lavitz kept the teacup balanced against his thigh, fingers slack in the handle. Truth be told, he wasn't very well acquainted with her fiancé. From what he knew of him on a surface level, and what he'd heard from outside parties, he seemed a decent enough man. He was in no position to question Esther's judgement of Wulfram when she clearly knew him better, and so he waited for her to swallow before speaking. "Is this the first time he's behaved oddly?" Whatever 'odd' entailed. Going outside of what was deemed proper by nobility's standards was often 'odd', or at least, misunderstood. “Well,” Esther considered, “It has been throughout the last month really. I—” The cup was placed neatly on the table, she straightened up (as if she were steeling herself for something). “Know he has been very curious about the architecture of the royal bank, but I had dismissed these as just curiosity. The architecture of his home is apparently quite different from Emillion’s.” Her heart hammered, her breath caught and her lip trembled. “With the trial yesterday I — and the news, he has been very vocal about what happened. Very unhappy. Almost, I believe, too much.” Again a pause, turning her dark eyes on Lavitz, patiently waiting to draw things to a close and allowing the unspoken to fall in place. And it did. Under more favourable emotional circumstances, the dragoon might've been quicker on the uptake, but the implications did take root. Curiosity about the Royal Bank wasn't too disconcerting on its own, but something didn't sound right. Judging from Esther's concerns, it sounded like― "You think," he paused, "that he might have been involved somehow?" Having been close with an EKP officer for most of his life, Lavitz knew it was too soon to jump to conclusions without hearing her out. “It is unthinkable, and it is improper of me to even say this, but yes.” Her eyes wide, frightened (again, real fear but not for the reasons she was inferring, fear out of being caught in her act — the lie). “And he is so keen to leave Emillion after the wedding too, it — I cannot understand why.” Except she knew why, Wulfram had whispered it to her at that festival. He was concerned for her safety and wellbeing in this corrupted carcass of a city. “I mean, we always intended to leave after the wedding but now it seems to be all he thinks about.” Truth, but probably he was probably more focused in getting Esther away from any temptations in the form of Rangers with blue eyes. Lavitz withheld another sigh, tapping a nail against the side of the teacup in thought. That he could focus on someone else outside of himself was a relief, but the subject of marriage was still a sore one, even if it wasn't the point. Advice in these types of situations was difficult when he didn't have all the pieces. He avoided getting too involved in matters that didn't concern him, preferring to stay the neutral party in order to keep from unfairly picking sides― but he knew, without a doubt, that he'd always lean toward Esther's. He softened his words. "Has he given any indication that he wants to marry sooner than what was decided?" “Not that he has said so, no. Do you think he might — have you — you don’t think he would, right?” Leaving sooner than intended would set the scheme she and Mathieu had hatched askew, and then who knew what would happen? What could happen? Would she end up away before being able to react? That much was hard to determine. No one could really know how anything would turn out. Humes were a complicated, fickle race who relied on selfishness more often than not, even in the world of nobility that they had grown up in. Lavitz couldn't say what her fiancé would or wouldn't do; he didn't know him well enough, and even if he did, how could anyone say with any real certainty what would happen? To nobles, marriage was a business transaction, particularly when it was arranged. The possibility of falling in love with a betrothed wasn't strictly unusual, especially in his experience, but to the rest, the longevity of the family line and family pride took great precedence over love. If Wulfram pushed the wedding forward in the face of fear, it didn't sound so preposterous. But this wasn't anything that he could say to Esther, and so he chose his next words as carefully as he could through the haze. "I think that if you feel in your heart that something is amiss, keep listening to him to try and understand without confronting him directly," he suggested, finally lifting the teacup. "Gather information before coming to a conclusion." Were these Nowe's words coming out of his mouth? It certainly sounded like them. This was, more or less, a satisfactory answer to Esther who knew Lavitz (and more importantly the weight of his family). Now it was just a matter of sealing a promise of support, because her father had taught her to be meticulous in her dealings. The word of a trustworthy hume was a currency worth purchasing, in this case it carried weight. “And if there is, will you protect me, my esteemed Lord fon Amell?” Without needing to think about it, Lavitz already knew the answer. He looked at Esther and didn't see a little girl anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't keep her out of harm's way if he tried. "I would do my best," he offered in what wasn't quite a promise, no matter its sincerity. For all intends and purposes, it was good enough for now. Esther smiled and reached to take his hand in a familial gesture, “Thank you, milord, it is fortunate that I can count on you on this sensitive matter.” And she was young still, not wise enough to fake well but she had not need to fake anything right now; her words may be deceptions but the emotions were palpable and genuine, they were heavy and sticky and gave her away. Esther was frightened, but determined to go down this path. Without knowing it, Lavitz had closed any possibility of retreat, forward was now the only way. Esther wondered if Mathieu would be glad for that. The gesture, he knew, was harmless. Even so, it served more than its intended purpose. While it hadn't been the first time she'd touched him, it surprised him in such a way that it might as well have been. Her hand drew him out of whatever stupor he'd been caught in, so selfishly focused on himself and not enough on her troubles. Gently, he squeezed her hand in return. "Always, Esther." |