"Even the strongest of warriors has to sleep," the lady persisted. While she had no doubt in Brynjar's abilities, it didn't stop her from worrying. She kept imagining some dark figure disabling the guards before they knew what hit them, and sneaking in to slay the crown prince in his bed. This was not a possibility she was ready to allow, even for the sake of his pride. It was too dreadful a thought. Her spirits were lifted, though, when he conceded to having extra tasters. "It will," she assured him, almost able to smile just then with how relieved she felt knowing he'd at least be careful not to be poisoned the way she was so sure Artos had been. "Thank you."
Katinka hummed solemnly as the prince continued to speak. "Listen to you.." She spoke softly and met his eyes as her hand moved to cover the back of his. She truly must have been blind when it came to this man. "As much as he was a guardian to me, our ties were little compared to yours. You do not need to comfort me, it is you who have lost your father. You have my condolences." For a moment, she shook, but then she lifted her other hand so that she was holding one of Brynjar's between both of hers, and she steadied. "You are... the strongest man I know, in so many ways." She stopped herself there, not wanting to become too emotional in front of him, so as not to add to his burden. After a deep breath, she pat the back of his hand gently and stood to leave. Before she got far, however, her eyes returned to the crown prince's face. "I know you have a lot to take care of, and I won't get in your way. If you need anything- respite or assistance, anything at all- I'll be here." The corners of her lips turned up briefly. "You are going to be a great King, Brynjar." With that she bowed her head slightly and finally turned away. She replaced her veil when she reached the door, then left the room.
Lady Katinka spent the rest of the day and much of the evening mingling with the other nobles. As usual, she listened in on all interesting conversations, although her flirtations were on hold for the period of mourning. Throughout the hours, she was plagued with a feeling of foreboding, an anxiousness that turned her stomach; she pushed this off, however, with the knowledge that whatever plots were hidden in the underbelly of court, she would find them. She steeled herself with determination, and used her worries plus the anger beneath them as fuel for her watchful eyes.
The next morning, her breakfast was delivered to her chambers, but it went cold on her table untouched. She had uncovered very little of use thus far, and while this was to be expected with something as sneaky as the successful assassination of a king, Katinka was impatient as ever. It occurred to her, too, that as the ward of a dead King her life was now up in the air. Her family's lands, riches, and title were still tied to her, but as a woman she was not in a position to own it all herself. She could hardly imagine herself as Brynjar's charge once he became king. She would likely be married off soon, made a nobleman's wife with the bulk of her family's property as her dowry, and what little freedom she had would be forfeited. This realization did nothing to calm her nerves, and had her itching for a way to vent.
The sun had hardly made it over the tops of the trees when she left the castle to wander the grounds; although wander might have been too gentle a word, considering the way she stormed about. Eventually she found herself at the training yards, where some knights were practicing. She was without a veil now, but still clad in heavy black fabrics that made the sunlight feel like fire on her skin. "May I?" she spoke up as she approached them, gesturing to a bow that had been set aside in favor of a sword. She recognized the gaits of at least half the men, so for the time being she didn't bother acting. Once given permission, she lifted the borrowed bow and positioned the arrow with obvious experience behind her every move. Each shot she let loose sunk into the target, although she purposely avoided the direct center a few times when she saw some of the less familiar men eyeing her. By the time she notice a far more familiar figure in the distance, her frustration had been chipped away enough that she managed a smile when returning the weapon to its rightful owner and her eyes lingered on the sparring figures to her left before she departed.
The lady gathered up her skirts as she made her way across the grounds, toward Lelinus's position in the courtyard. With the heat and the sheer magnitude of her skirts, it took a while for her to reach her destination, which irritated her some but she was so glad to see the prince without his bride that it hardly mattered. She arrived just in time to hear the tail end of Evangelina's assessment, which paired with the handmaiden's foreign appearance was more than enough to pique Katinka's curiosity. "Leo," she called in greeting, despite her approach being quite apparent long before she'd reached their small group. "I missed you yesterday. How are you faring?" Her attention might have stayed on Evangelina longer, not to mention the dynamic between this foreign woman and Brother Beorn, had the Lady not been so very worried about the Prince since the wedding.
Katinka hummed solemnly as the prince continued to speak. "Listen to you.." She spoke softly and met his eyes as her hand moved to cover the back of his. She truly must have been blind when it came to this man. "As much as he was a guardian to me, our ties were little compared to yours. You do not need to comfort me, it is you who have lost your father. You have my condolences." For a moment, she shook, but then she lifted her other hand so that she was holding one of Brynjar's between both of hers, and she steadied. "You are... the strongest man I know, in so many ways." She stopped herself there, not wanting to become too emotional in front of him, so as not to add to his burden. After a deep breath, she pat the back of his hand gently and stood to leave. Before she got far, however, her eyes returned to the crown prince's face. "I know you have a lot to take care of, and I won't get in your way. If you need anything- respite or assistance, anything at all- I'll be here." The corners of her lips turned up briefly. "You are going to be a great King, Brynjar." With that she bowed her head slightly and finally turned away. She replaced her veil when she reached the door, then left the room.
Lady Katinka spent the rest of the day and much of the evening mingling with the other nobles. As usual, she listened in on all interesting conversations, although her flirtations were on hold for the period of mourning. Throughout the hours, she was plagued with a feeling of foreboding, an anxiousness that turned her stomach; she pushed this off, however, with the knowledge that whatever plots were hidden in the underbelly of court, she would find them. She steeled herself with determination, and used her worries plus the anger beneath them as fuel for her watchful eyes.
The next morning, her breakfast was delivered to her chambers, but it went cold on her table untouched. She had uncovered very little of use thus far, and while this was to be expected with something as sneaky as the successful assassination of a king, Katinka was impatient as ever. It occurred to her, too, that as the ward of a dead King her life was now up in the air. Her family's lands, riches, and title were still tied to her, but as a woman she was not in a position to own it all herself. She could hardly imagine herself as Brynjar's charge once he became king. She would likely be married off soon, made a nobleman's wife with the bulk of her family's property as her dowry, and what little freedom she had would be forfeited. This realization did nothing to calm her nerves, and had her itching for a way to vent.
The sun had hardly made it over the tops of the trees when she left the castle to wander the grounds; although wander might have been too gentle a word, considering the way she stormed about. Eventually she found herself at the training yards, where some knights were practicing. She was without a veil now, but still clad in heavy black fabrics that made the sunlight feel like fire on her skin. "May I?" she spoke up as she approached them, gesturing to a bow that had been set aside in favor of a sword. She recognized the gaits of at least half the men, so for the time being she didn't bother acting. Once given permission, she lifted the borrowed bow and positioned the arrow with obvious experience behind her every move. Each shot she let loose sunk into the target, although she purposely avoided the direct center a few times when she saw some of the less familiar men eyeing her. By the time she notice a far more familiar figure in the distance, her frustration had been chipped away enough that she managed a smile when returning the weapon to its rightful owner and her eyes lingered on the sparring figures to her left before she departed.
The lady gathered up her skirts as she made her way across the grounds, toward Lelinus's position in the courtyard. With the heat and the sheer magnitude of her skirts, it took a while for her to reach her destination, which irritated her some but she was so glad to see the prince without his bride that it hardly mattered. She arrived just in time to hear the tail end of Evangelina's assessment, which paired with the handmaiden's foreign appearance was more than enough to pique Katinka's curiosity. "Leo," she called in greeting, despite her approach being quite apparent long before she'd reached their small group. "I missed you yesterday. How are you faring?" Her attention might have stayed on Evangelina longer, not to mention the dynamic between this foreign woman and Brother Beorn, had the Lady not been so very worried about the Prince since the wedding.