Chapter 22.3

Over the past days, his former office had become a place of comfort and safety for Eirwen. She could feel herself relax a bit as she went to the desk, sitting behind it as if that somehow put her back in control. He entered and grabbed a chair to sit on the wall side, allowing him to oversee the windows.

Of course that wasn't the real reason. He just didn't want her to have to constantly stare at their painting while they conversed. He cleared his throat as he looked at her. "How are you doing?"

She grimaced. "Not great, but doable. It's easier when I know something is coming, so I can prepare myself for it. Didn't expect his words to be so venomous, though. He really hated you, didn't he? You would have expected him to appreciate you more."

He barked a laugh in turn. "Honestly, he might have done so if I hadn't been the only one left. But you can't compete against a ghost. The opportunities lost always were impossible for me to compete with. Whenever I fell short of his expectations, he imagined a world where one of the others would have done better. Sometimes, I think he actually believed it."

Eirwen shook her head. "You deserved better. You all did." He gave her a thin smile to thank her, though his eyes were focused on the inkwell, painful thoughts swirling inside. A series of knocks interrupted their melancholy. In came Sir Caerbychan, carrying a plate of food which he promptly parked on the desk. "Here you go, your Grace. I will bring over dessert in an hour." With a friendly bow he stepped out again.

She flashed a smile. "Your idea, I take it?" He nodded. "I didn't even notice. Guess I'm more shaken than I thought. Clever that you had him bring it, he's the only available person that they would have let approach without your explicit interference." Her cutlery started cutting into the food, taking a bite. A delicious distraction. "Well, I'd thank you for the date, but you're not fully here, are you? How are things in the hall?"

"Quite well from my point of view. Sir Wigbeorht is pretending to be drunk, which several others are subtly calling out as an utter lie. He was too busy stewing in his frustration to properly notice just how well measured the drinks had been. At this point, he's just staying silent and leaving it to the court mages to hold conversation at his table."

"Good, good. Take a bite yourself, please. He brought enough for both of us." He nodded and dug in. She laughed as she noticed what he was doing. "Are you seriously using the Verglas technique to more easily cut through the meat? And using the Carraig defence to make sure you don't cut through the plate?"

"Hey, it works, doesn't it!" For a moment, they just found themselves laughing at the absurd approach, before she followed his example. Of course it wasn't just for the convenience. The use of cold mana let both of them calm their emotions, settle the urge to go back and defend her honour. They gave each other knowing glances, fully understanding what needn't be said.

As they ate and conversed, Eirwen could sense he was still actively observing the hall and instructing staff. She was perfectly fine leaving that to him for now, allowing her to relax and let the torrent of emotions slowly turn into calm waters.

She studied his face, the smile he reserved for her, while a serious look flashed through every time he gave out a mental order. There was a madness swirling behind, though that too was settling down. He hadn't just accompanied her for her sake, but also to prevent himself from crossing the line.

She didn't want to make her next request, afraid it'd upset him, but still tilted her head at him. "After dessert, could you please rest early? I fear my sleep tonight will be rather troubled, so I would like you on standby to aid me there." His body language betrayed nothing, but she could see the momentary flash of anger and pain in his eyes as he realised what had set that off. Honestly, he could have hid that as well. If there had been anyone else here, he would have. So this was him being properly open to her. Not even his madness hidden from display.

He took a deep breath, then exhaled. "Of course." Then a playful grin. "And good timing, come to think of it. Because if I spend too much time alone in this room with you, I worry for our self-control." Her breath caught at that and a flush hit her cheeks. He winked and leaned back, his appearance incredibly enticing now that he mentioned it. He was right, this would have been a bad idea.

After dessert, he retired with a bow. She spread her own senses again, covering the entirety of the estate as he made his way to the guards room next to the master bedroom. His final commands flashed about before he handed cleanup over to Lady Róisín. As for Eirwen, it was time to busy herself with paperwork to distract herself. She would rest once the guests had mostly gone off to sleep as well.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on a point of view, Sir Wigbeorht indeed knew better than to approach Eirwen at this time of night. As for the others, many seemed to have quick interactions with Pertrellan instead. Eirwen gently reached out at a quiet time.

Are they leaving messages for me with you?

"Yes, your Grace. I will tell you tomorrow."

She left it at that, Pertrellan clearly unwilling to discuss more for the moment. As for the guests, not many stuck around for long, with the mood still heavy after what all had happened. Soon, Eirwen found it time to retire herself. At her quarters, she was impressed to find the broken door leading to one of the the guards rooms already replaced. Lady Róisín moved fast, it seemed.

Inside, she found her weapon master uncharacteristically deep asleep, getting as much rest as he could. For but a count, she wondered if she should let him sleep, before deciding that he'd never forgive himself if she did. "Good evening, weapon master. Time to stand guard again." He woke quickly, eyes and senses alert and scanning the room before he calmed down a bit. Only then, when he had confirmed safety, did he greet her with a silent nod.

After she entered her room, she felt him sit down against the door separating them. The doorguards immediately went to sleep, while he split his senses, about a third focused on their surroundings, the rest fully focused on her. Her mind, specifically. It was almost sweet how he avoided sensing her physically as she changed her clothing, even if it was nothing he hadn't seen or sensed before.

Sleep didn't come as quickly as Eirwen had hoped, but it did come. She woke the next morning feeling far better than the day before. Looking back, she couldn't remember much of her dreams, though she did feel like he had actively interfered in them at times.

"Good morning, Mo Stór. And good night. I will see you at high noon."

After that simple message, he woke the doorguards and immediately collapsed into one of the now-vacant beds, then fell asleep in merely a few counts. It was almost offensive how quick he managed. But his shift was done, now it was time for Eirwen's.