|For Love and Lust|
|Summary:||Danae learns about Garett and Briallyn. It goes about as well as can be expected.|
|Related Logs:||Garett/Briallyn logs|
|Town Square — Stonebridge|
|The surrounding terrain has several small gullies and streams that feed into the waterfront area just adjacent to the town square, the sails of the boats visible over the tops of the buildings. The square is floored in the same heavy stone that the east docks and castle are constructed of while the buildings are a mix of the stone, wood, and mortar. There are quite a few fish vendors with their fragrant catches for sale among groups of tables which tend to be busy most of the time.|
|Mon Apr 9, 289|
The evening has just begun to settle over the Town Square, sky dim with gold and the lights within the buildings that line the streets beginning to glow. The hems of Danae's gown are muddied as she enters the square from the direction of East Walk. The pale gold of her hair is damp, tightly bound and pinned against her scalp. One of her guardsman accompanies her, saying something that makes her laugh brightly before covering her face with a hand. The crickets have chime the hour.
Normally so in possession of herself, Briallyn notes very little of her surroundings. Despite the hour, despite her gender, the youth appears very much alone, and very much in turmoil. Her expression is tumultuous, so animated that it's difficult to discern precisely what emotion is stirring the excitement upon her face. So, when the young Lady Haigh goes barreling down the cobblestone street without any sense of decorum, and walking far too quickly than is ladylike. She nearly bumps off of the guardsman's elbow, and she blinks, pausing to dart a startled look towards Danae. "I'm surrounded by Westerlings, on all bloody sides," she exclaims, and it's hard to know whether or not she sounds pleased, or frustrated.
The guardsman, neater than his lady in his gold and pale livery, instinctively reaches out to catch the lady before she bounces off of his elbow. "My lady Briallyn," Danae drawls, decorum in place even as her appearance stands a little askew. She smooths her hands along her skirts and flashes the young woman a mild smile. "You will likely want to consider a new residence if you find us so tiring."
Her expression is owlish, dark green eyes widening in surprise, and then brash amusement. She gives a pleasant laugh, rich rather than chiming, and Briallyn openly stares at Danae with mirth flooding her inquisitive gaze. "Oh, certainly not, Lady Westerling," she chuckles quietly. "I never tire of your brother." Her warm voice sounds both amused and affectionate, neither of which are indicators of anything good in response to referring to someone's unmarried sibling. And it's around this time, right after spitting that out, that the young woman seems to realize this, making a soft thoughtful sound in her throat. A hum. "No, no. I'm quite certain, now. There are no Gods."
Danae smiles politely, inclining her head towards the other woman with a keen interest flaring in her expression. "Oh," she breathes softly. "I was not aware you were quite so intimate with my dear brother. It is…so well to hear that he is making himself familiar outside the family." The words sound as light and polite as courtesy could ask, but the small woman watches Briallyn with sharp eyes. The following outburst goes uncommented upon.
"Now, see. Why can't the Lady Cherise be that subtle in her disapproval? You should teach her a thing or two about subtlety. I feel like I've been struck with a bloody hammer," Lady Briallyn immediately retorts, lifting a hand to brush back a number of dark locks from her brow, tucking them discretely behind an ear. Attempting to comport herself with some semblance of dignity, the young woman stands straighter, smooths a few wrinkles from her hip, and pleasantly returns the look with a relatively calm facade.
Unfortunately, her eyes, ever the traitor to her well crafted expressions, display openly just how curious she is about the situation at hand. "My apologies, Lady Danae. I've been most busy today, and perhaps it was more taxing upon me than I thought," Lady Haigh says most graciously, even though the vulpine grin curving her lips says otherwise. "Speaking of your brother, have you seen him?"
"Are your placing your opinions of yourself in my mouth, Lady Briallyn? I feel that I hardly know enough of you to voice such disapproval," Danae retorts mildly, taking a step forward into the Haigh lady's space. Her blonde head cocks inquisitively to the sit in a bird like motion, gaze raking over the other woman's dress and elsewise. "Or have you had such dealings that I ought be alarmed?"
Briallyn's attempted placation and queries gain no reply, instead Danae stands and stares up at her as she awaits her reply.
Something breaks. The sound of glass shattering and a woman yelping added with the additional shouts of commotion. This this seems to come from the inside of the Inn, though about what is left in the air. Until the door opened, where things become a bit louder, though it looks like one or two people are hastily leaving. "Why were you in my room?" is the angry shout. Not really a shout, just a voice that has been raised in an octave so that it borders on commanding rather than anything else. There's a stammering and the sounds of rapid movement. A cry in surprise and sharp sound of a fist being struck against another body.
And then a body is being thrown out the door and into the street. It's a man, a stableboy from the looks of, clambering to get to his feet. And in the doorway, bathed in shadow from the light that pours out of the inn, stands Garett. And he does not look happy, stormy blue eyes alight with rage, which betrays the as-always stoic expression on his face. "I will -not- ask again. What were you looking for? How much were you paid to snoop on me? How much?" he asks, repeating the last question, taking calm, slow, but purposeful steps at the man on the ground. It looks like he was enjoying himself downstairs before moving upwards and finding something. Or something. Because there's a half drank wine bottle in his hand. "Are the coins the rumor mill distributes worth this much to you? Is it?"
The man on the ground stammers again, still trying to get up but more or less terrified that he's been caught by the Knight. And he is not looking too merciful right now. "NOW HOW MUCH?" his voice booms in voice that doesn't sound like his. The normally soft-spoken man sound drastically different when angered.
The look upon her face is one of renewed interest, and Briallyn studies Danae with a small sense of respect. Appearing mollified, Briallyn chuckles quietly. "Well, that depends upon what you mean by-" Her voice dies in her throat at the commotion, tensing stiffly beneath the rich green silk of her dress, and her fingers grip sharply at her skirts. From the tilt of her body, she looks more likely to bolt into the direction of the noise, rather than away from it.
Unusual. And that voice sounds eerily familiar, though never raised to such a degree in her presence. Both of her mahogany brows lift as someone is hurtled bodily from the building, landing in the street a quivering mess. Moss green eyes widen, though perhaps not in surprise per se, as the Knight steps from the overhang and comes into clear view. "That is… less than ideal."
Damnably unusual. Danae exchanges a short expression with her guard, flicking her fingers towards the figure in the street and striding swiftly towards the situation. The Westerling guardsman moves towards the man who has been cast into the street, reaching to restrain him before his Lady and Lord. In the backlit glow of the inn, she cannot make out Garett's expression, but even furious she recognizes his voice. "Brother," she greets — although it sounds harder, shaded with caution. "What is this?"
"I'm s-sorry! I was told I'd g-get an extra weeks pay if I….uh," the stablehand, no more than 15 from the looks of it. But that doesn't halt Garett. "Come now, boy. What did you take, what did you steal from me?" Tossing the half drank bottle aside, he reaches down and with a hefty jerk of the arm, manages to pull and lift the teen up to his feet and then past that, feet dangling in the air. "How -dare- you. My private life is my own and whatever gods-be-damned harpies you work for will not get their juicy pieces of information. So you are going to hand over whatever you took and I might just leave you with one shattered hand."
Snarling, angry visage scans over Danae. "This runt broke in my quarters, paid by poisoned gold to feed the rumor spreaders. And I will have none of it." Looking back at the teen, calloused hand clutching a handfull of tunic, he keeps him aloft in the air, not like he doesn't have the strength to do it. "Who I spend my time with is no one's concerns but my own. Do I make myself perfectly clear, boy?" He still looks more than ready to limbs to drive his point home.
What is Briallyn to do? Stand there and gawk? She is a mere step behind Danae, the hem of her skirt lifted to keep from tripping her up as she falls in line with the Westerling Lady. She is patient enough, albeit concerned for the endangered you, but it is Danae who speaks first. Lady Briallyn clears her throat softly, glancing up at the sky for a moment, no doubt uttering some blasphemous prayer to deaf Gods. She listens to Garett rage, clutching the boy well above the stones of the street, and Briallyn lowers her voice carefully. "Ah, Garett…" There is a certain soothing quality to her voice, one that no one but Garett, and now Danae, has ever heard leave those lips. The young Lady Haigh lingers next to Danae, a mere span of distance from the other noblewoman, and her dark green eyes flick away from the drunken Knight to gauge Danae's reaction to events.
Nearly Briallyn's age, then. "Boy, perhaps I can sedate my brother's rage if you heed him soon and well," Danae says, voice gentle but sharp with the direction. Every inch a noble woman: from her posture to the cool timbre of her voice. She does not look to Briallyn as the other woman joins her by her side, mouth pressed in a thin line. The casual endearment held in her intimate use of the male Westerling's name is not missed. "Give him what you have taken, even if it is purely words."
Since his hands are freed, and considering the idea of the older man breaking his fingers one by one not sounding all that appealing, the teen is compliant with Danae's wishes, not being able to look at the person holding him upward. Rummaging around in his things, he picks out a hair brush and a small book. The brush would be a familiar to Danae at least, it's one of the few things their mother gave Garett before he left the Crag when he began his life as a squire. The other is a book, Bri might know that one as the only that the Knight writes in, so probably a personal journal of sorts. Both in shaky hands are dropped uncerimoniously to the ground.
Garett doesn't set him on the ground, he just lets his hand open. "Leave. Now. Before I change my mind." Not needing to be told twice and happy to have all of his fingers in still working order, scampers off as fast as his legs can carry them. He reaches down for the two times, muttering the entire time.
The items fall to the ground and Briallyn visibly winces as they strike the unforgiving stone that paves the street. Garett reaches the items before Briallyn has a chance to, but it doesn't stop her from covering the distance to the drunken Knight in some effort to retrieve them. Her steps are quick, efficient, and the young woman reaches out to lay a hand gently upon his shoulder as he leans over, fingers tightening in an affectionate, supportive squeeze. "Garett." Briallyn's voice is more urgent, but still pitched low to a nearly breathless whisper.
Even so, Danae is not so far off that she is likely to miss both tone and words completely. "Are you alright?" The man can stand, and no harm is done to the lad as he scurries off as fast as humanly possible, but there is an underlying question that remains unspoken. If Briallyn has a care about propriety, it isn't in that moment.
"Follow him," Danae orders her guardsman, eyes tracking the boy's path into the shadows of the streets. The man only hesitates for moment, glancing towards Garett, before darting across the stones to follow the lad. The blonde woman turns back towards her brother after a moment, pale eyes flitting from Briallyn's affectionate touch to her brother's lingering anger. For the moment, she says nothing.
Garett seethes for a moment longer, but the touch of Brially gets him settle down visably. If only slightly. "I tire of this attention, Bri." he states, eyes looking a bit glassy, as the adreneline starts to siphon out of his body. "Damnit. Damnit! I will never find any peace, will I?" he bites out, tone in a icy ferocity to it, bitter and dripping with frustration. "If it is not war, then it is politics. If not politics it is your cousin and if not that then it is stablehands hired to pilfer about my things. -My- things." His anger makes him shake for a moment. "I can not be made to left be, no matter how painfully clear I make that."
He clenching his fist for a moment, with no real outlet for his anger, and his wine discarded, so no he can't drink more. Though, he probably doesn't really need. And even he teeters just slightly on his feet, the hazy vision of wine-laced sight starting to haze over his mind. When he looks on Danae, he didn't seem to realize his sister was standing there up until this very moment. And it's celar that maybe a bit of color drains from his face. He blinks hard, hand raising up to massage the headache that is only now starting to form. "There is no justice in this world." he mutters.
To her credit, Briallyn bears the brunt of that anger, directed at her or not, wordlessly. The fingers squeeze her shoulder once more before relinquishing their grip, and her hand draws away so that she can peer up at him passively with those depthless green eyes that seem surprisingly calm considering the situation. "Patience, Ser, patience," she breathes quietly, glancing downward toward the street with an inaudible sigh. Her reaction to his teetering is immediate, likely indicating that it doesn't take the young Lady Haigh by surprise.
As if by reflex, an arm snakes firmly about Garett's waist, and though Briallyn is considerably smaller than the Knight, she steadies him even as he notices his sister. The fingers of that hand gently stroke the Knight's hip, another soothing gesture that she doesn't seem to notice. "Yes, about that, I was proposing that there were no Gods," she jests quietly with a slight smile.
The petite Westerling lady is easy to miss in the evening's slick black shadows, silent as the couple continues their affections and reassurances. A court worthy smile curls on Danae's lips as she regards the pair, all gloss and glimmer. "Indeed. I can see how you have made things ever easier for yourself, Brother, with your wholesome lack of propriety." Her voice is soft and sweet enough that any who were close enough to overhear might think her to be adding to Briallyn's tender reassurances. Her pale blue eyes stare at Garett for a long moment before cutting away to Briallyn. "My lady. I think you would do well to return to your chaperone for the night. I need to speak with my brother."
"When have I ever cared about proprietry, Danae?" Garett wipes at his mouth, blinking hard through his haze. "I came here to get away from war, only to find myself in another one that I am sorley unequipped for. And now I'm being pulled into something that I have no desire. So much so that I have people going through my things. I think I'm acting perfectly in my right." He almost seems to clutch onto Bri, or at least allows her to cling tighter to her. "Whatever needs to be say…." he looks down at Bri then. "Just…just say it and be done with it."
She isn't embarrassed, but the words do weigh upon her. She glances at the stone of the street, eyes downcast to hide whatever might be there. "My apologies, Ser," Briallyn says quietly, wetting her lips with the dart of the tip of her tongue. "I don't wish to create any more friction than I have today." She doesn't sound defeated so much as slightly worn. The hand on his hip pauses stroking to gently pat instead, and it isn't until Garett is able to stand more readily on his own that she relinquishes her hold upon him.
Unsurprisingly by this time, Briallyn seems entirely reluctant to do so. "However, I do not need advice on finding my way back to wherever I happen to sleep. Nor to find the lady who trails me like a shadow. Your concern, however, is noted, Lady Danae. Thank you." Her voice is cool, each word selected and bit off sharply. The tension in her lean frame doesn't lessen, and she appears ready to leave, or fight, given the next moment, and her eyes sweep upward from the stone paved street to peer darkly at the other woman. "Your brother is a gentleman, after all."
"True enough, brother. However the man I remember had much respect for decency, amongst other things," Danae replies, voice soft and cold. "It is sweet that my concern troubles you, Lady Briallyn. I shall make it a point to direct it your way no longer." What has the shape of a smile and none of its warmth settles on her mouth as she regards the pair of them. "Indeed? I would have agreed." The past tense is likely…intentional, considering the lay of her arm about his hip as they hold one another in plain view. "No. You have made it clear you have no interest in my words, just your wars, Ser Westerling, since your actions clearly prevail you to your situation. I will not have this conversation here. I bid you fair night." Tipping her head in a shallow nod, the small lady turns to leave them and slip away unescorted.
You want to insult my honor? At this time?" Garett chases after Danae, looking not only like he's been slapped in the face, but generally shocked. Then the anger comes, the face of marble hardens his features and his own voice turns to ice water. "No, you do -not- get to snipe some words at me and walk away." And moves to stand right infront of her. "Now, it is my turn and you will listen to me instead looking daggers at -her-." he flicks his hand at Bri's general direction. "I have -always- listened to you and after I said I would speak with you, you insult me and walk away. How -dare- you. After I left a war to come to -you-, after I traveled from home to come to -you-, after myself and my squire were assaulted by bandits here to come to -you-, you slap me in face in the face with your words? If you expected better of me, I -certainly- expected better of -you-. You have no spoken to more than one time here and this is what you have to say to me -now-? No, we will speak now, -little sister-. If you want to speak in a more private matter fine, but we are doing this -now-."
What in all of Westeros is Briallyn supposed to do with that? She can't very well step in and emasculate the Knight, nor would she. The young woman makes no effort to still him with a touch, or to tread after him pleadingly. Lady Briallyn Haigh remains behind Danae, mostly so that the slightly smaller noblewoman will not see her expression. Which is… desperately trying to cool Garett down, seemingly with very little effect. "Lady Danae," she says quietly, trying diplomacy. "Please. No one is trying to impeach good sense or common decency. Please." She isn't pleading, but there is a certain plaintive resolve to her voice without demand.
At her pace of an indignant stride, so much shorter that Garett's long legged chase and hindered by the heavy lines of her gown, Danae is not difficult for him to catch. "I neither begged nor commanded your presence, brother, not in anyway to so hinder your honor or to deprive you of the glory of a war. I gave my favor to a man and watched him march off into the heat of the battles, I know well enough the call of men to the battles. I did not force you, I did not cajole you, I did not plead," she replies slowly, looking up at him with eyes as grey and stark as the stormy seas off the coast of the Crag. "I asked for your ear in private and you refused it. I will not be partial to family matters being dragged into the streets." Those eyes stare the distance up at him, unafraid of the heat of his anger as she stands her ground.
Were Garett not drunk, he wouldn't be speaking or spoken as he is. Well, he'd still be blunt as all get out more or less, but he would of grudgingly agreed and entered inside. And he stares right back at Danae. Hard to really say who imparted how much onto the other one. "I have been through too much to be second guessed. Not now, not by you, not ever." Then he juts an finger pointing back at the inn. "Inside. Now."
This seems like an excellent time to give Garett the space he needs to speak with his sister, and Briallyn moves past Danae quietly, leaning into Garett's personal space. She has to lift herself lightly onto her toes, balancing delicately, as the drunken lout hasn't the sense to lean down, and she's considerably smaller than he is. "Garett, have patience with her. She is your sister, and blood is stronger than any hurtful words. You know where to find me. Things will look better in the morning," the Lady says softly against his ear, turning her head ever so slightly to press a kiss gently against the Knight's jaw before she settles back on her heels.
The young Lady Haigh steps past Garett, and looks briefly over her shoulder towards the imperious noblewoman. The look in those smoldering moss green eyes speaks volumes, and they are not kind, but her intent is clear. The only care she has in the situation is the Knight himself. Briallyn steps into the Inn first, well before either of the Westerlings, and makes herself scarce by disappearing down the darkened hallway to leave the two of them alone.
His request, his demand, is met with a sharp nod from his sister. The dark hides much of the expression the flickers across Danae features, stepping into shadow as Briallyn makes her way to Garett's side. The Lady Haigh saves her having to repeat her conditions for speaking with Garett as they enter, with her quick exit down the hallway. Pale eyes follow Briallyn for a moment, flitting back to Garett with a frown and folding her hands at her waist. He may lead and she will follow — for now.
Whatever Bri does, her words, her touches, her affections, anything, is not noted. It was as if she was kissing a statue. His skin might even be cold had he not been drinking. But given the redness of his cheeks from drink, they are rather warm. Once she leaves, he makes for the place he has been staying ever since he arrived here. Entering the inn, there is no indication he moves for for the upstairs, no he moves at a dead set for one of the empty sitting rooms about the establishment. Thankfully, there's no one inside and he closes the door behind Danae. Once the latch shuts, he leans against it, folding his arms across his chest, looking expectantly at his sister.
Danae does not jump as the door shuts heavily, moving laconically towards the fire burning sluggishly in the hearth. The sitting room is almost cozy. Her hands sweep along her scalp, removing the pins from her swim dampened hair and finger combing it out around her shoulders. It hangs in smooth, damp waves around her delicate fingers, making her look hopelessly younger wre it not for the sharpness of her gaze as she finally turns towards him. "Would you care to tell me the truth or would you prefer my assumptions on the situation?"
"What do you want me to say?" Garett says with a gruff snort. "That I'm sleeping with Briallyn Haigh? That she was manipulated into tell Lady Ceinlys Ereford and forced her to ask me to marry her. Yes, everything you have probably heard is true. Yes, Danae, I'm sleeping with her, but I truly doubt you want details of our positions, but if you're so inclined I can offer instructions." Pushing himself away from the door, he blinks hard, trying to get his thoughts aligned properly. "And there is no need to lecture me. You will of already told me I haven't already told myself. That it has been little more than a week. That I have comprimised my integrity, though we both know I have never much cared about that. Or my reputation. Yes, I am aware of how this could effect her, or you. Yes that worries. Yes, I went through with it anyways. No, I don't know why I did it when I had sworn off women. No, I don't know why I allowed her into my bed. Yes, I truly care for her. And yes, it bothers me that I care about her. And no, I don't know why." he says in a long litnany of questions she might or might not ask. "My life has been turned on head and I am still reeling. Were it not for this damnedable marriage it woudln't be…" he flicks his hands in a gesture of annoyance, suggesting that he's not pleased about the pending wedding.
The offer of…detailing their positions is met with a nonpulsed look from Danae, not nearly so easy to shock as she once had been. Standing silently by the fire, she listens to Garett's druken litany as he manages to cover a great number of the points that she might have made. "Your own, my reputation…she has compromised her own integrity, likely irreperably. More than I think either of you care to think in your fit of ardour," she says slowly, chosing her words with the care of a scholar setting them to a document. "Her reputation is ruined, her family would have to offer a ruinous sum to see her wed to someone else now, and any scrap of intrigue the pair of you might have withheld from gossip is destroyed if you gad about in public as you did this eve. Her without even a mock chaperone." She scoffs, smoothing her fingers along her hair as she looks away from Garett. "That said, you are under no requirement to marry her, although likely the dowry they would give to see it down with would be esteemable. Soiled as she is. Her family members might challenge you, should the men be capable and claim blood for your actions." There is the tip of a shoulder in a half shrug, coupled with a frown.
"I never asked for this! I wanted to court her, not be shoved into a marriage that neither of us wished for!" Garett suddenly snaps at Danae, over a weeks of pent of anger finally getting out. The ice wall finally breaks under all this pressure. "I had to speak to that snake of woman Ceinlys, who tried to verbally badger me into a marriage. I had none of it, and agreed only because Briallyn asked it of me. I wasn't going to be another peice in whatever it is that she's plotting. Whatever feud is between her and our cousin is none of my concern. Nor do I have the inclination to care. The only thing she has done is that there has been no mention of particular 'acts' that have been done. As far as her family or our knows, it is a marriage proposal. There has been no word or mention of anything else." Saying the word 'soiled' about Bri just sets his eyes alight. "You will -not- speak to her like that. Say whatever you will about me, call me whatever name wish, hate me anddisown me from the Gods-be-damned House, but do -not- speak to her like that. She is the only person that…" he lets the phrase drop." Looks about two seconds away from punching somehting, anything, rattled and drunk as he is. "I should've stayed at the islands. I should've fought and died at the islands. I can imagine that's what everyone else is already thinking of me, so why not myself as well?"
"Then why under the gods seven pairs of eyes did you so so quickly take her into your bed?" Danae hisses from between her teeth, stepping into his rage rather than away from it. "You may not care for how things are done, you may not care for politics, but do not dare claim you are ignorant of such to me. I say what is merely the truth. Do you think anyone would be so kind to withhold the word from me or any other woman who flounces about without discretion? I trust you know that they would say far worse than I have. We are not peasants, brother, to rut and breed as we choose." Although Garett is not far from violence, Danae is not afraid of it; she stands in infront of him with her hands clasped at her sides. "I would not have you die there, even if I did not make you return," she whispers, softer emotion bleeding through her fury. "I care not for Haigh games. If that is our stance than the two of you had damned well better start acting like a couple proposed and a pair of brazen whores. Should your lady prefer to do otherwise, I will personally write to the head of her house…" It is less a threat than a promise. She will do what it takes to have this /settled/, by the gods.
"You…" Garett's voice drains to a kind of quiet fury that he rarely. "…blackmail me? Your own brother? Threaten me like this?" He backs up a step. "Now that I see where you priorities and loyalties lie, I know what I have to do." For a moment, he actually appears more hurt than angry, the idea that she would stab him in the back like that. "No, you don't have to worry about me from here on out. I'm done. I am finished with this place, these people, and this city. By morning light, I will be taking my leave. It will no longer be -your- problem anymore, because I will wash my hands of it since this is the way you wish to act. If I'm gone, Briallyn won't be a problem to you or the House, only that your brother apparently didn't know when to keep his hand out of skirts." That said, he makes for the door to leave.
"Garett." Danae sighs and scrubs a hand across her features, just looking exhausted by the circumstances and smaller than her size in the firelight. "If that is what you wish to do, I will hardly stop you. As you hate it here so much, you'll have my leave and my blessing to move on." He will hear no protest from her on that score. "My threat is not for you, but for your lady and even then…you did not hear what I meant." He has had much to drink and she was unclear. "If you act as what you are supposed to be, I shall not challenge it. I will support your courtship and proposal with a letter to father. It is likely your lady can come through this with some manner of grace and what remains of her dignity in tact. Along with your honors," she says quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers.
"I would lay my life down for you without thinking." Garett says, hand on the door. "I would have thought, in all my years, that I would never hear such things from you. One of the few people that I ever bothered with trusting." The knob turns slightly. "What do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you that I love her? That I cherish her? That I value her independence and urge for freedom? That we have gone to great lengths to keep this hidden and you are only the third person to truly know?" He sighs. "Would it even matter? I have already sent to father stating my intent to marry. And no, I was not so moronic to say what I did. I want this. I don't want to leave, but I will saving face means so damn much. But I know, what I've done, is right in my heart. Maybe not in my head, but I was not blessed with the intelligence that you received. And I will not sit and watch you and Cherise look down on her like she's little more than a child. Again, if it means I have to leave so that everyone else in this House can go about their lives, than that is the thing that I will do. And from what I have already seen, I don't anyone but Desmond will even give her chance. And more's the pity to that."
"As I would for you, so I will stand here and tell you horrible truths, brother. I will tell you all the things you do not care to here and will not want to admit. I can tell you that leaving will do nothing more than ruin your lady's life and spread more rumors," Danae returns watching the lines of his back as he stands before the dooor. "You will not manage to keep that secret for long, if she displays the level of discretion that she showed to me tonight. Even before you threw the boy out tonight…" Shaking her head she frowns a moment, irritably flicking the lines of her skirt with a note of hurt in her voice. "Have your affair. Brother. Have your wife, make her your lady, and I shall not be discourteous to her. Just do not ask me to approve of her."
"I know the truths and I am fool for going through with it anyways. And that is on me. I am not one to run, and I would only do so because it seems like that what people are striving for. But I will take exactly what I deserve. I never shied away from that before and not about to start now." Garett replies sourly, scoffing lightly, perhaps in a bitter laugh. "There is much I cannot admit about myself, you and I both know that. But Briallyn. She is the first woman that doesn't make the nightmares so…intense." That's about as far as he's willing to go in terms of his troubled mental state, even when not involving liquor. "I know what I was getting into and it was foolish to think that this reaction wouldn't happen. To let you know, that was the first time she had done such. She should've known better." He shakes his head. "No point in attempting to make excuses for her. Nothing I can say or do will earn your approval. Don't presume I don't know what's happening and don't think for a moment that I don't hate myself for what I've done."
"I presume nothing, Brother. I only stand to see," Danae offers, sounding too drained to suggest anything more for the moment. There are many things they will not speak of for the moment, chief among those is what might not have been done. She moves towards him and the door, giving him a pat on the arm that will serve as farewell this night. It is likely that the topic will arise again…but for tonight, each has said their piece.