Chapter 5: Motives (mature content)
Now Faendryl are no slouches when it comes to getting what they want, and it was quite likely the most difficult year for the bard to keep certain information hidden. Servants would attempt to linger when he wished to be alone, and they would offer to deliver messages for him. His time away from the manor was always watched, and he knew it.
While servants are good for such things in New Ta’Faendryl where they are as unnoticed as a blade of grass – such was not the case for the Dhe’nar. To him, a pack of Khanshael could be less noticeable.
A year passed, and the Lady Gylaume could learn no more than what the bard wished to reveal to her. She began to enjoy the mystery, even coming up with her own fantasies to entertain herself. She began to notice that she got easily bored when he was not around, even finding herself missing the quiet confident tones of his voice.
Many nights, alone in her chambers she would berate herself for inviting the bard into her life. Often though, she would fluff her pillows on her bed beside her and would wish – just once, that she could feel his flesh pressed against hers.
Many times she attempted to gain information through the use of servants, slaves and commoners but to no avail. He refused the luxury and pampering and would dress and bathe alone. Eventually she gave up trying to utilize the servants, though she admitted that she could barely do without them herself.
She had tried to impress and seduce him by taking a beautiful elven girl servant and removing her clothing in front of him, then had the girl remove her mistress’ clothing in turn. He was enticed for certain. After all, he is a man – and men, such as they are, cannot help but to look.
However, the servant seemed entirely too skittish. This was obviously forced. Paying no more heed, he moved toward the Lady. She smiled, hoping he would lower himself to her. Instead, he showed her how to properly kneel.
After that, she invited him to her chambers, but always he would respond, “The time is not yet right for such dalliances.” Often he was right, either she would have an appointment or him a performance. It began to seem though time were precious for the moments they spent together in quiet conference, always analyzing their social interactions for clues on how to manipulate others for their advantage.
One evening, when both of them seemed relatively free – he offered to take the Lady on a trip to visit some old ruins near Maelshyve. Being obsessed with sorcery as she was, she readily agreed. They encountered etched into a broken tile, a strange glyph laying forgotten and covered in dust and debris. The tile felt cold to the touch, despite the warm weather. Asking her to translate the arcane, she readily agreed.
Reading the glyph triggered an immediate incantation, which caused the ground to rumble and roil – sending both of them to the ground. When the dust cleared, a daemon stood before them, its eyes glowing a sickly yellow and its mouth slathering in an unintelligible language. She was elated, believing she summoned this demon and she pocketed the glyph tile.
Suddenly the daemon lurched, yanking her toward it and ripping her gown. It laughed, a sort of gurgling sound. She screamed, more out of astonishment and annoyance at her torn dress than of any sort of fear. But then, the daemon saw the bard. It wiggled its fingers as if for a spell and the bard slumped to the ground. Then, she screamed for real.
When she gained consciousness again, she was in the bard’s arms. Her whole body was in pain. The bard was singing a lullaby that seemed calming. He sported a large bruise where his head likely hit the ground where he fell.
Wrapping his cloak around her, he silently brought her to the carriage. A warning glance at the driver produced hoof beats as the only sound. Glancing through the curtains as they left the clearing, the bard watched as a robed figure emerged from the stones to pick up something. Smiling inwardly, he let the curtain fall again and watched the Lady sleep.
Back at the manor, the bard called for the Lady’s servants, then carried her himself to her bed. He watched her for a moment, his fingers lightly touching her hand. When the servants came bustling in however, the moment faded and he took his leave of her.