;; Nasrin Cavendish ;;
Nasrin walked mechanically, thinking to go somewhereāwhere, she didnāt know. She knew she had to do something and find her mother. Her cheek pulsed unpleasantly, determined to let its presence known, bit she ignored it. If she could somehow get out of the palace and ride into the country, where she had livedā¦now how was she going to do that? Come to think of it, she hadnāt seen her mother in a good long while. What if she was no longer living in the same place? What if she didnāt recognize her? What if she couldnāt find her? These realizations darkened her mood, and just as she turned the corner she nearly bumped into someone elseāagain.
Much to her surprise, it was Dante, the very person she had walked right into earlier. This time he stopped himself in time and grasped her arms to prevent her from jamming her face into his damned chest. Nasrin muttered a greeting and tried to walk away, but it seemed he had already sighted her swelling cheek. His expression turned into a concerned oneāmaybe even an angry one. But she wanted none of it.
āIām fine! Itās none of your business,ā she snapped, glaring up angrily at the Dornishman before catching herself. She paused, knowing that it was not any of his fault. āSorry, I didnāt meanā¦ā She shook her head, dropping her glance somewhere else. By the Seven, she hadnāt cared when the others had looked at her in this state, but it almost shamed her to have him see her with a swollen cheek. Any other day she would have been upset she had let an apology to the womanizer slip out of her mouth, but right now she had more things on her mind.
āIs it really that bad?ā she asked dryly, briefly touching her burning cheek. She hadnāt seen herself in a mirror, but she could feel it.
She let out a small sigh, half-heartedly gazing up at the taller man. āA walk and some fresh air, then,ā she agreed, allowing him to walk her outside. The fresh air always did wonders for Nasrin when she needed itāshe had always loved the smell of outdoors. āI yelled at him. I wanted to see my mother,ā she nearly blurted out without warning. She was once more slightly taken aback by her willingness to talk about personal matters with this man she had only really met a few months back. She never told people about her troubles and the truth of her blood. And yet, twice in one dayāto the same person? It was almost ridiculous.
āI havenāt seen her since I was eight,ā she continued slowly, āNot one letter since then. But like I said before, Iām worriedā¦I want to have her somewhere closer to the palace.ā
He had told her not to go seek her mother out. She would, she swore it. She would defy him in such a way that was more real than ever before. All this time she had found little ways to give her father headachesā¦rejecting suitor after suitor, speaking about her dislike of nobility, never mingling with the other girls of court, making friends with servantsā¦but this would be something he would have to acknowledge as a real threat. If she went to her mother and never came back, heād be left with no heirs. The House of Cavendish would crumble into the dust and be forgotten forever.
āIām going to find my mother,ā she said quietly, though her stubborn tone remained through it all. āI donāt care what Father says.ā Nasrin was stubborn; any person would be able to see that. She would find her mother, no matter what.
---
;; Sirena D'Airelle ;;
Sirena let out a muffled hiss as she laboriously pushed herself on to the saddle, letting out a string of curses. āNo, no, it was a good idea,ā she said to him, āIt was just a stupid thing to actually do.ā Gods, she was soreāand not just between her legs, but everywhere. She was bruised in some places, raw in some, all around just looking like she had been beaten and mugged by a group of robbers. And as she looked to Ammon, she could see that it was the same way with him, which made her grin a bit.
āDislocated? I think you tore something inside me,ā she retorted, nonetheless laughing before cringing a little and grasping her horseās reins. āRiding is going to hurt like a little bitch,ā she said, shifting gingerly. Riding had never been a problem, but riding while feeling like she had been run over by a whole army was a bitā¦well, undesirable.
But really, she wouldnāt take it back. She didnāt care she felt like sheād been torn to little piecesāshe didnāt care. It was fun because he had been part of it too, battered as much as she was. It was similar to being a child and getting scolded for dirtying their clothes, but not minding too badly because their friend was right next to you. Yes, that was what Sirena supposed it felt like. āItās true what they say. Misery does love company,ā she said, grinning as she looked at her bruised and beaten companion.
It had been a while since she had really travelled around. After becoming one of the Bloody Mummers, she had stuck around them rather than going off on her own. Maybe it had been because after all that time being by herself, it felt good being part of somethingāeven if it was a band of criminal sell swords.
āOh, weāll look the part alright,ā she said as she gingerly lead her horse forward, the motions making every single muscle in her body protest. āMaybe a little too much. Hopefully theyāll not think weāre mere beggars and turn us away at the gate.ā If she went through this and finally reached that damn place and was told to leave, she was going to have a dangerous impulse to set the place on fire or something like that. Then she would go get smashed along with Ammon and have another satisfying tumbleāand then she would feel better.
She loved this life; she would not have it any other way. As a feared criminal, she was free, more free than she had ever been. And perhaps thatās why she and Ammon got along wellābecause they both did not like being tied down. They never expected anything from each other, while other bedmates ended up wanting her devotion and said those words, I love you. Love meant being tied down, didnāt it?
Well, she had no idea what she and Ammon had, but it worked for her. She was not tied or restrained by him unless she wanted to beāand she was still free.
---
;; Isabel Greyhardt ;;
Isabel was really not sure about the passing of days anymore. It all seemed soā¦unreal. But she knew that it was. War was raging and things werenāt well for her family. Her mother, the poor soul, seemed to be lifeless these days, while her father was busy trying to hold them all up. She didnāt know anymore. She knew it was true but she still couldnāt quite get over itāand it had already been past two months. She still couldnāt believe that her sisterāLeliana, wouldā¦do such a thing.
It didnāt make sense.
But she knew that it was trueā¦even though it was not logical. In her logic and order-oriented mind, it was hard for her to grasp the situation which had devolved so quickly into chaos. She looked out the window and into sky, and then returned to the book she was reading. She had locked herself up in the room nearly all week, only joining her fractured family if extremely necessary. Isabel had thrown herself into reading and reading some more. She kept up with meals, making sure that she would not worry her parentsāthey didnāt need any other source of stress right about now. The whole place was bustling with grim hurry, and so she hung back and immersed herself in her studies of literature and music. In books, things were logical. Orderly. Everything madeā¦sense.
The real world didnāt, unfortunately.
She briefly allotted herself to think about Leli. What was she doing now? Did she think of her like she did every so often? Did she feel as betrayed, as hurt, as sad, as angry, as confused as she did? Isabel shook her head to herself as she recalled the expression she had seen on her sisterās face last. A smirk. No. She would not be this hurt. She was probably laughing and drinking, along with Lionel. Isabel swallowed the upset tears that threatened to spill. Why would she do such a thing?
And as much as she hated to admit it, she actually missed her sister.
Isabel bit her lip and blinked hard, forcing herself to escape into the world of the book she was reading instead of remaining any longer in the sadness and turmoil of the real world.
Nasrin walked mechanically, thinking to go somewhereāwhere, she didnāt know. She knew she had to do something and find her mother. Her cheek pulsed unpleasantly, determined to let its presence known, bit she ignored it. If she could somehow get out of the palace and ride into the country, where she had livedā¦now how was she going to do that? Come to think of it, she hadnāt seen her mother in a good long while. What if she was no longer living in the same place? What if she didnāt recognize her? What if she couldnāt find her? These realizations darkened her mood, and just as she turned the corner she nearly bumped into someone elseāagain.
Much to her surprise, it was Dante, the very person she had walked right into earlier. This time he stopped himself in time and grasped her arms to prevent her from jamming her face into his damned chest. Nasrin muttered a greeting and tried to walk away, but it seemed he had already sighted her swelling cheek. His expression turned into a concerned oneāmaybe even an angry one. But she wanted none of it.
āIām fine! Itās none of your business,ā she snapped, glaring up angrily at the Dornishman before catching herself. She paused, knowing that it was not any of his fault. āSorry, I didnāt meanā¦ā She shook her head, dropping her glance somewhere else. By the Seven, she hadnāt cared when the others had looked at her in this state, but it almost shamed her to have him see her with a swollen cheek. Any other day she would have been upset she had let an apology to the womanizer slip out of her mouth, but right now she had more things on her mind.
āIs it really that bad?ā she asked dryly, briefly touching her burning cheek. She hadnāt seen herself in a mirror, but she could feel it.
She let out a small sigh, half-heartedly gazing up at the taller man. āA walk and some fresh air, then,ā she agreed, allowing him to walk her outside. The fresh air always did wonders for Nasrin when she needed itāshe had always loved the smell of outdoors. āI yelled at him. I wanted to see my mother,ā she nearly blurted out without warning. She was once more slightly taken aback by her willingness to talk about personal matters with this man she had only really met a few months back. She never told people about her troubles and the truth of her blood. And yet, twice in one dayāto the same person? It was almost ridiculous.
āI havenāt seen her since I was eight,ā she continued slowly, āNot one letter since then. But like I said before, Iām worriedā¦I want to have her somewhere closer to the palace.ā
He had told her not to go seek her mother out. She would, she swore it. She would defy him in such a way that was more real than ever before. All this time she had found little ways to give her father headachesā¦rejecting suitor after suitor, speaking about her dislike of nobility, never mingling with the other girls of court, making friends with servantsā¦but this would be something he would have to acknowledge as a real threat. If she went to her mother and never came back, heād be left with no heirs. The House of Cavendish would crumble into the dust and be forgotten forever.
āIām going to find my mother,ā she said quietly, though her stubborn tone remained through it all. āI donāt care what Father says.ā Nasrin was stubborn; any person would be able to see that. She would find her mother, no matter what.
---
;; Sirena D'Airelle ;;
Sirena let out a muffled hiss as she laboriously pushed herself on to the saddle, letting out a string of curses. āNo, no, it was a good idea,ā she said to him, āIt was just a stupid thing to actually do.ā Gods, she was soreāand not just between her legs, but everywhere. She was bruised in some places, raw in some, all around just looking like she had been beaten and mugged by a group of robbers. And as she looked to Ammon, she could see that it was the same way with him, which made her grin a bit.
āDislocated? I think you tore something inside me,ā she retorted, nonetheless laughing before cringing a little and grasping her horseās reins. āRiding is going to hurt like a little bitch,ā she said, shifting gingerly. Riding had never been a problem, but riding while feeling like she had been run over by a whole army was a bitā¦well, undesirable.
But really, she wouldnāt take it back. She didnāt care she felt like sheād been torn to little piecesāshe didnāt care. It was fun because he had been part of it too, battered as much as she was. It was similar to being a child and getting scolded for dirtying their clothes, but not minding too badly because their friend was right next to you. Yes, that was what Sirena supposed it felt like. āItās true what they say. Misery does love company,ā she said, grinning as she looked at her bruised and beaten companion.
It had been a while since she had really travelled around. After becoming one of the Bloody Mummers, she had stuck around them rather than going off on her own. Maybe it had been because after all that time being by herself, it felt good being part of somethingāeven if it was a band of criminal sell swords.
āOh, weāll look the part alright,ā she said as she gingerly lead her horse forward, the motions making every single muscle in her body protest. āMaybe a little too much. Hopefully theyāll not think weāre mere beggars and turn us away at the gate.ā If she went through this and finally reached that damn place and was told to leave, she was going to have a dangerous impulse to set the place on fire or something like that. Then she would go get smashed along with Ammon and have another satisfying tumbleāand then she would feel better.
She loved this life; she would not have it any other way. As a feared criminal, she was free, more free than she had ever been. And perhaps thatās why she and Ammon got along wellābecause they both did not like being tied down. They never expected anything from each other, while other bedmates ended up wanting her devotion and said those words, I love you. Love meant being tied down, didnāt it?
Well, she had no idea what she and Ammon had, but it worked for her. She was not tied or restrained by him unless she wanted to beāand she was still free.
---
;; Isabel Greyhardt ;;
Isabel was really not sure about the passing of days anymore. It all seemed soā¦unreal. But she knew that it was. War was raging and things werenāt well for her family. Her mother, the poor soul, seemed to be lifeless these days, while her father was busy trying to hold them all up. She didnāt know anymore. She knew it was true but she still couldnāt quite get over itāand it had already been past two months. She still couldnāt believe that her sisterāLeliana, wouldā¦do such a thing.
It didnāt make sense.
But she knew that it was trueā¦even though it was not logical. In her logic and order-oriented mind, it was hard for her to grasp the situation which had devolved so quickly into chaos. She looked out the window and into sky, and then returned to the book she was reading. She had locked herself up in the room nearly all week, only joining her fractured family if extremely necessary. Isabel had thrown herself into reading and reading some more. She kept up with meals, making sure that she would not worry her parentsāthey didnāt need any other source of stress right about now. The whole place was bustling with grim hurry, and so she hung back and immersed herself in her studies of literature and music. In books, things were logical. Orderly. Everything madeā¦sense.
The real world didnāt, unfortunately.
She briefly allotted herself to think about Leli. What was she doing now? Did she think of her like she did every so often? Did she feel as betrayed, as hurt, as sad, as angry, as confused as she did? Isabel shook her head to herself as she recalled the expression she had seen on her sisterās face last. A smirk. No. She would not be this hurt. She was probably laughing and drinking, along with Lionel. Isabel swallowed the upset tears that threatened to spill. Why would she do such a thing?
And as much as she hated to admit it, she actually missed her sister.
Isabel bit her lip and blinked hard, forcing herself to escape into the world of the book she was reading instead of remaining any longer in the sadness and turmoil of the real world.