|Summary:||Ryker and Valda have it out.|
|Related Logs:||Truths Are Deadly|
|Sun July 24, 288|
Ryker's boots once again echo the halls, but this time he is moving a bit faster. The man steps off the stairs into the hall and looks around. A passing servant is questioned to Lady Valda's whereabouts and the woman doesn't know. He grunts, chest swelling with a sharp intake bordering on angry. Boots take him off the staircase and he sets off towards the kitchen in search of his target.
Milicent is in the kitchens and Lady Valda is being handed a fresh goblet of wine within. The woman seems rather composed and sure of herself with the recent items squared away. "Make sure to take the girl moontea and plenty of it. Three cups a night." She is busy telling Milicent who has yet to say a word about the Lord visiting Isolde. "Yes m'lady, I am preparing it now." Milicent knows. It seems that the woman is in as far as one can be with the Tordanes.
Finding Milident down here is no surprise. She probably uses secret cooridors. Walking in on those words, though, Ryker does not look happy. Standing across the kitchen from Valda and the servant, he stares at the Lady across the room. "Milicent. Do not follow that directive." Ryker levels a finger at Isolde's mother and slowly steps across the distance and around a table. "My passed wife took that. I know what one cup does. You will not make her drink three a night or you will surely understand just how far my objections to your actions have gone." Just one cup can make a person ill for an hour or so. Three could do serious harm. And he knows it. "Leave us, Milicent. Now. I need to have a few words with the Lady."
Turning to find the Young Lord, Valda lifts a brow and then seems discomforted by him overhearing. Milicent holds the tea in hand and dips aside. "My Lord…" She is glad to be free of them as it seems, rushing past him with her eyes down. Soon the kitchen is left to the two nobles and Valda turns to regard him fully. "There seems to be something bothering you. Something that not concern you, m'lord." She says, sipping at her goblet. She makes no comment about the way he directed the moontea and it doesn't get said either way how much she will drink.
Ryker steps right over to her, finger still aimed like he might intend to gore her through the skull with it. There's a glance, watching Milicent flee, before he comes over to her and puts the finger right in her face. "If this is how you run a house then good godsdamned luck under my rule. Because if I ever found out that something was told that it need not concern me, like my wife sleeping with a Terrick, then you had better believe that she would not be the one being beaten with a fucking reed." Oh yeah. He's mad. The finger drops. "Just who in the fuck do you think you are? I told you not to lay a hand on her and not a few days later I find her crying and welted. By your orders, I can only assume. Rygar wouldn't be dumb enough to cross me." There is a severe warning there.
Her eyes widen at the press of his finger, but not in fear, in her own rising ire. Valda narrows her gaze and though she does not show fear, there is a tender tremor of it up her spine. "I am still elder Lady of this House…the impudent daughter of mine has need to be taught lessons. She risks much in her selfish choices." She says without raising her voice unlike the Lord. "You will take your finger away and lower your voice, my Lord. She is Tordane til she is wed. YOu threaten me with what is not ours yet. And what I wish not to tell you I shall not." She pauses, "Until that time that you are Lord of this Tower…I shall do what I must to ensure that things remain …stable." She says. SHe holds her wine at her side, meeting his gaze.
"No. Shit. I am fairly certain that was the purpose. And I'll quiet down when I'm convinced I'm talking to someone who doesn't deserve it. But if you'd like to have me punished for it or speak to my father, I'm sure that would be an interesting thing to explain the reasoning behind." Ryker doesn't seem provoked by her lack of response. Though maybe a little amused. "You realize that with a betrothal agreement signed, you cannot stop this marriage. I could marry her and no fault her the next day, shaming you and her and taking your land for purely the benefit of my own banner." He nearly sneers at her. "Maybe I should just to spite you, but I'm not dumb enough to do that. I've got a few good reasons but the first and foremost is that your daughter, while you might think she is some kind of insolent child or horse to be whipped and traded for your own ends, I have other plans and they don't involve beating her. You see behavior befitting a child. Fine. I see a strong woman who will command respect and one that her father would be immensely proud of." He seems about ready to keep going.
A tick enters her jaw with his rush of threats, namely the one of faulting Isolde and claiming the land. Valda's concern is only for herself and there is a glimmer of fear in her gaze. Her neck tenses, body going rigid as well as the goblet is carefully set aside. She turns back to him and with a drawn in breath, she lifts a hand to forestall him. "You are right m'lord. You could do any of those things…but I do wish you well with the molding of my daughter." SHe seems to mean it, a faint smirk touching her lips. For her part, Valda dips herself into a deep bow and her head bends too. Hands shift outward to either side as she stretches them in display. "My Lord…we are at your wishes. Both my daughter and I. But I did this for us both." She rises. "She will need that tea, or do you deny that?"
Ryker's ire doesn't fade. He halts at her hand, but its very clear from his expression that he is doing this by his own volition and not an order. Listening, the man looks at the gestures and narrows his eyes at her face. "She will take one glass." He holds up a single finger. "One glass or as directed. If you order her three or I find out she has been forced more, I will order her removed her to the care of a Septon and then suddenly the Lady of Stonebridge will be mysteriously absent from the tournament." He shakes his head. "And don't you dare do me any more favors by striking Isolde for any reason ever again. As much as this might endear her more to me, I would rather build our relationship on trust. Not some brutal streak by her mother. Actions like yours endear her to the Terricks, not here. Do you wish to see her driven to their arms by your actions? I sure as hell don't want them winning that kind of victory!! You will cease your brutality of her as of right now. Never again. If she is to care for me, it will be natural. It will not be through the course of some sick game."
Ready to intercept the rest, some of what he says and his mannerisms cause her to rise and stares up at him. Her brows furrow and she tilts her head a moment before her face become that guarded look. Valda hmms to herself, "You speak wisely, but if she were to break agreement, no Terrick would touch her. She is yours no matter the welts…but ..I will do as you ask. I think the lesson has been learned and she will be in your care. I will see how you deal with her…spirit." She muses. The Lady Widow rises fully and reaches for her goblet, thoughts flitting behind the back of her gaze but she says nothing of it.
Ryker snorts indignantly. "Don't be naive, Lady Valda." He backs out of her face and stands tall. "She broke ranks with a mother who abuses her to sleep with Jaremy — who risked war to do so. Do not underestimate the power of love. The people of Terrick's Roost are commoners. While nobility might snub their nose at it, we both know Jaremy would take her back in an instant. And if you want to think of anything that might endear a people to their leader, look to a man that rallys them under the marrying of someone fallen to their ranks and united again by love. I am sure you loved your husband at some point. Maybe even for a long time. Do not forget the lessons it teaches." He takes a step to move off. "And I intend to unbridle that spirit and teach her to temper it with leadership. I want a woman that I can count on to be an assistant in my rule in a terrain where she is loved. Nor do I want a servant or a woman who only provides heirs." He finally turns to move off towards the exit.
"You speak of tales and dreams…Lord Jerold would never allow such a union that gives him nothing in return." Valda speaks hastily and then lets out a breath. Her gaze narrows and she watches him go. Ryker is like another thorn beneath her skin and there is a curse beneath her breath. "Were they all more like Rygar…" She laments. "Love.." SHe nearly laughs to herself and sours. Grabbing for her wine, she draws it to her, a brow lifting as eyes become distant in their thought. "Love.." SHe mutters, drawing the wine to her lips to pull needily upon it. "Foolish errand that.." She murmurs, as if consoling herself, a hand settling to her hip as she takes up steps to keep her thoughts moving. Plot.