| Moving On Up |
| Summary: | Senna makes a few confessions to Roslyn. |
| Date: | 4/July/2012 |
| Related Logs: | Roslyn / Kittridge stuff |
| Players: |
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| Inn — Kingsgrove |
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| Where the rich folk stay. |
| July 4, 289 |
Senna has been ever at Roslyn's side while they've been in Kingsgrove…except for when the lady wanted not to be observed. And when Roslyn gave the news to Rosanna, Senna was carefully distant. Now, she's seeing to Roslyn's rooms, folding down the sheets and hanging up a dressing gown for the end of the day. There's a pot of tea over the fire, just coming ready, and a small tray of snacks set on the table.
The distinct red lines of Rosanna's fingers remain against Roslyn's cheek, swollen and bright against pale skin. The lady has let her hair down, settled with a still visible upset as she sits at the table in their rented room in the inn. A book lays across her lap, but she does not seem to be reading as intently as she would on any other day, her lower lip caught between her teeth and her eyes still suspiciously shiny.
Once everything is done, Senna approaches with a brush to smooth through Roslyn's hair. "Don't worry yourself, my lady," she murmurs as she brushes. "Lady Rosanna will eventually realize the entire world doesn't revolve around her, and when she does, she'll be appalled with her behavior. Besides, just think of the mercy you've done your brother," she adds, lips quirking in a faint smirk.
"And if she never does, Senna? I—If she truly cared for Rutger, and I have ruined her chance to marry him, I would not forgive me either," Roslyn says quietly, thoughtful as she folds her hand on the page of her book to lift her gaze to Senna.
"She wouldn't have been happy with Rutger, my lady," Senna murmurs, no doubt in her voice. "She thinks it would have given her what she wanted, but your lord brother isn't a man to be toyed with. And, to be honest, I don't think Lady Rosanna is a woman to be toyed with, either. Neither of them would have been ultimately happy with that arrangement." Her strokes of the brush are smooth, unfaltering as she speaks. "And even if she would have been, that would be no excuse to slap you."
"Perhaps not." Her lips press tighter at the agreement, reluctant even as Roslyn drops her gaze back to the book within her lap and drawing in a tight breath. She adds, "But perhaps they would be happy together, but even if they would not have been, it only matters that I ruined this for her. I would not want my goodsister to hate me forever."
"My lady, this is hardly your fault," Senna says reassuringly, shaking her head. "Marriages aren't arranged by the participants. Your lord brother arranged the marriage, and Lord Groves accepted the arrangement. They were worried about Lord Rutger's reputation, and Lady Rosanna was not thrilled with the fact that he already has sons who should inherit after him. The only thing she misses is that she was pursued, and by a man who is impressive. As soon as another comes around, she'll forget."
"I hope so, Senna," Roslyn breathes out, a touch of disappointment and worry still to her words as she stares at the words before her.
"I know so, my lady," Senna assures, brushing in silence for a few more minutes before drawing a deep breath. "And besides, I'm sure in a few weeks, she'll be turning her ire to me instead."
Roslyn's gaze lifts at that, brows drawing together as she questions, "To you? Surely you have done nothing to earn her anger."
Senna's lips quirk despite herself. "Aside from Lord Rutger," she murmurs in reply, the words wry and rich with amusement.
"Senna, you and—," Roslyn starts, her lips parting with a soft sound of surprise at the lady maid's words.
Senna lifts one shoulder in a slight shrug, setting the brush aside and moving to crouch next to Roslyn. "Lady Roslyn, I beg you, do not feel guilty over Lady Rosanna," she says, reaching for the woman's hand. "I suggested to your brother that he should seek a match between you and Lord Kittridge and leave off courting Lady Rosanna. The only part of it that has to do with you is that I saw how happy you were with Lord Kittridge and thought you deserved a chance to remain so."
"Senna," Roslyn starts again, a quiet breath as she studies the woman before her. And then she leans forward to wrap her arms around her lady's maid, breathing in her ear, "I told you to call me Roslyn."
Senna laughs softly, returning the gesture with a squeeze of her own. "Roslyn, then," she murmurs, leaning back to place the back of her hand against the mark left by Rosanna, her fingers cool on the skin. "Your brother says he intends to stop hiding our arrangement," she adds, though she doesn't look entirely convinced of that herself. "Soon. And at that point, I imagine Lady Rosanna will be /very/ upset."
"I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me. If there were ought I could do for you, but your situation is not one I can approve of in public," is stated carefully, Roslyn's brows drawing softly together at Senna's words.
Senna's smile quirks. "No, I don't imagine you can," she agrees, settling back on her heels with a low laugh. "I don't imagine many people will. But it will certainly be interesting." Moving to stand, she reaches to reclaim the brush. "My mother was noble, you know," she muses quietly as she resumes brushing. "They didn't even disown her when she married my father. Not until he stopped winning."
"If our father would ever agree to such a marriage—But, he would not and there is little any of us could do to have such a happy ending for you, Senna," Roslyn answers quietly, though there is a subtle firmness to the words as if advising the woman of the likelihood. "Would you not rather find some other bit of happiness? Someone you could marry and have children with?"
"Marriage?" Senna laughs, smile flickering across her features. "Roslyn, I don't expect your father to approve of a marriage. Frankly, I expect to check my food on a regular basis. But your brother already has children, and has already provided your father with heirs. All I want is to sleep in your brother's bed, see to his needs, and maybe have a hot bath and a nice dress every now and then."
"Do you not want a marriage of your own, however? Or children? You cannot imagine to have such a life—forever," points out Roslyn carefully, reasonably, as she frowns slightly at the woman.
"There's nothing that says I can't have children if I want them," Senna shrugs, resuming her brushing. "Rutger seems to. I'm in no hurry, though. And I'm not a fool, Roslyn. I've had plans for a long time. I don't expect to live that sort of life forever. But I'd like to enjoy it while I can."
Roslyn's lips part to speak, but whatever she may say is bit back with an obvious effort. Instead, she murmurs softly, "If he hurts you, he'll face my wrath."
Senna quirks a brow to that, smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "Well, since we've no longer any need to pretend I'm having an affair with Lord Kittridge, I think that should no longer be an issue of concern," she says with some amusement, reaching up to rub a hand at her neck.
Roslyn's gaze traces that gesture, a hint of a frown twitching at the corners of her mouth. "I do not want to lose you from my service, Senna," she says.
"You'll be leaving the Mire, Roslyn," Senna points out with a small smile, still brushing soothingly. "It will be time to build your own household here. Surely you didn't think I'd be coming to Kingsgrove forever?"
"I thought, perhaps," admits Roslyn with a quirk of a smile, her brows knitting for a moment before she shakes her head dismissively. "I cannot force you to remain, but if you ever need to be away from the Mire, Senna. You will be welcome wherever I am."
"Thank you, Roslyn." Senna places a hand to the other woman's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "And I hope we'll still be able to see each other. I can't imagine Rutger won't come and visit you here often. He cares very much for you and for your happiness." She pauses, moving to Roslyn's side once more. "You will be happy here, won't you?" she asks.
"I will be." The words are a rush of reassurance, her own fingers laying over Senna's for a moment as Roslyn looks up to the woman. "He does not love me, but he may come to. Even if he does not, I love him," she answers further.
Senna arches a brow slightly, head tilting. "Oh he doesn't, does he?" she asks, sniffing. "Well, all the more fool he." She seems somewhat indignant about that, looking out the window as though she might search him out and give him a piece of her mind. "He doesn't love someone else, does he? Because we could take care of that problem."
"I—do not know. I had not thought to ask, yet. Or perhaps I was afraid of the answer he may give," Roslyn says, her lips pressing together at the question.
Senna hums, though it's not a pleased sound. "Well, if it turns out there's someone else, you let me know, Roslyn. And I'll take care of it."
"I do not wish to know, Senna. Honestly, I do not." Roslyn shakes her head in emphasis, laughing wryly almost as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.
Senna wrinkles her nose slightly. "I understand not wanting to know, Roslyn. But if there is someone else, you'll find out eventually. Best that you be prepared for that as early as you can be."
"It does not matter, Senna." The slip of a smile is a wan thing, but it is firm as Roslyn tips a look over to her lady's maid. She repeats simply, "I love him, at least."
Senna does not look entirely convinced, but she doesn't press the issue. Instead, she loosely plaits Roslyn's hair, tying off the end with a scrap of ribbon. "So long as you're happy," she says quietly. "Because I'd really prefer to avoid setting myself up against Lady Rosanna," she adds with a small smile.
"I would not wish anyone that," Roslyn says with a warmth of humor to the statement, but she falls silent as Senna finishes her hair and gets her ready for bed.
