Her daughter thought she was clever, but Sylvie had methods of her own which served to get to the bottom of even those matters shrouded in mystery -- as Arielle’s personal life certainly seemed to be. That her daughter had unexpectedly left the city was not entirely surprising, if rather exasperating. The girl was far too stubborn for her own good -- she got that from Sylvie -- and entirely too flighty (this, Sylvie believed, was solely the fault of coddling by her father and utterly unnecessary tales of life at sea -- but her husband was stubborn too, in his way), but her departure did mean that Sylvie could go about her investigation without anticipating attempts to thwart her well-meaning efforts at every turn.
Really, whoever it was that Arielle had at last selected was likely to have the patience of a saint.
And the question of who had led her here, to the Fighters’ Guild guildhall at the center of the city, to stand against the fence in her ermine-lined cloak and watch a very tall man who seemed quite impervious to the cold, judging by his lack of shirt (at least this one was not an abrasively loud corsair) taking on two girls and one boy armed with staves and wooden claws.
A good-looking man, she considered, and she did have quite a fine view of his well-muscled back and chest as he fought. Skilled, clearly, by the way he methodically fended off attacks from multiple directions. Well-respected locally, or so she had been told, a guild leader, and (she could not help but note as the match ended and he took the time to speak to all three students with a smile) clearly quite skilled with children. That he was not of noble lineage was unfortunate, but Sylvie did acknowledge that she, too, had once been won over by a man below the station for which she ought to have been aiming… and although she preferred for Arielle to make wiser choices, her own life had hardly worked out poorly, even if her own mother had been rather annoyed by it all.
So, in the end, she thought this Councilor Drake Liu would do quite nicely.
Thus, as the children nodded their assent to what he was telling them, she raised her hands for some well-deserved applause. And when the man’s head turned to her (the children, at this juncture, were insignificant), she smiled prettily and called out, “Wonderful, all of you.”
He’d only had to take one look before he knew exactly who was praising them; it didn’t matter that he’d never met her, or didn’t even know her name. She looked enough like Ari that it was pretty clear that the woman in the really impractical outfit (who wore fur to a training yard?) was his girlfriend’s (friend? whatever) mother. And hadn’t he promised the bard he wouldn’t go looking for her mother?
Was this breaking his promise?
Oh man.
But he didn’t let his smile waver; instead, he gave a slightly exaggerated bow and the squires rolled their eyes, but did the same. “They’re getting pretty good,” he said, ruffling Kit’s hair. Kit tried to elbow him in the side, but Drake easily dodged. “Is there something I can help you with?” Maybe she was lost. That would be easy, right? Point her on her way and she would leave.
His attempt at masking discomfort told her she’d been recognized (Arielle did tell exaggerated stories; she always had), and Sylvie honestly considered that this was in her favor -- it would make this easier, and unless he lacked manners (she sincerely hoped not; lack of noble lineage she could excuse, but lack of proper breeding, never) he would speak with her out of obligation if no other reason. And if the man was to be her son-in-law, should she not get to know him? It seemed only logical.
“In fact, I was looking for you, Councilor. We have not been formally introduced -- alas -- but I am hoping to correct my daughter’s oversight. Sylvie Chiaro.” Still smiling, she extended her hand (to be shaken or kissed; either would suit).
He could practically feel his mother’s and grandmother’s stares as he looked at her hand, and in the end, manners won out. He took her hand and bowed slightly, placing a dry kiss on the back of it. He hadn’t been raised noble, but years of living in the city and working for the nobility meant that he at least knew how to act. Sylvie may not have had a title, but her very demeanor practically screamed that she should.
Which was probably why she had spent her life trying to marry Ari off to one.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Chiaro. I’m Drake Liu.” Not that she didn’t already know that, but what else was he supposed to say?
Indeed, he did have good manners, which suited her very well. “I do apologize for interrupting you in the middle of your lesson,” she said, though she wasn’t sorry at all. “In fact, I was wondering if you might spare me the time for a cup of coffee? I would be pleased to buy you lunch.” Her smile turned slightly apologetic. “Arielle, you see, had to leave town quite suddenly -- though I am certain you are aware -- and I am left rather at a loss until she returns. Of course, duty must come first, so one cannot blame her.” And it would not do to speak ill of her daughter to a man who by all accounts liked her rather a lot. “Still, I would be glad of your company, if you are not too occupied. Emillion is such a big city, and it would be far more pleasant to spend the afternoon in good company than by wandering the streets alone.”
That she had work she most certainly could do was not a matter she intended to mention. She was rarely at a loss regarding how to fill her time -- it was one of the reasons that her business flourished -- but at present, her daughter’s muddled affairs took precedence.
Oh man. Ari was going to kill him, but it was against every single grain of his being to deny the request of a lady. His mother would kill him more and his grandmother’s spirit would haunt him for the rest of his days. Why, oh why, couldn’t he be more like some of the other men in Emillion? The ones who could just say no and walk away without another thought? Obviously that would have been too easy, and so he smiled and shook his head. “You weren’t interrupting at all. I was just finishing up.”
Maybe there was a way to get out of this… “I’d love to accompany you, but I’d hate to make you wait while I get changed.”
“Oh,” she said, her smile growing ever so slightly (the councilor might notice the familiarity of the expression -- whether or not it disconcerted him was not something that concerned her, particularly), “I do not mind the wait in the least. As I said, I am quite free. Please, do take your time.”
Although he was trying (and failing) not to look too defeated as he turned to go, she knew he would hurry regardless of what she said. Manners made people predictable in certain regards -- and she knew she would be holding on to him for the rest of the afternoon. Guileless as he seemed, she did not anticipate any difficulty in getting him to answer her questions.
All in all, it was quite fortunate that Arielle had gone away.