Snippet #2764326

For a moment, Navarre dreaded the elder countess would resume bickering with him or become fussy, taking note of how she stiffened at his words. To his pleasant surprise, she then proceeded to relax ever so slightly and even release a little laugh. A slight half smile formed upon the prince's lips as she agreed with him. He had to admit, he found her chuckle to be a rather pleasant sounding one.

As Sera addressed his comment, Navarre's eyebrow arched slightly. She had forgotten to address him as common courtesy dictated. However, while it was a more casual manner of addressing him, it wasn't incorrect or without a title. 'Prince' was fine, (after all, he was one), but he couldn't remember the last time he was called 'dear prince'. By his mother or a relative if his recollection was correct. It was certainly different to hear it from a young woman, especially one he had only recently met (even if she was his intended). This time, she also bore a small smile. Her smile as well was charming to the eyes, and made her face look even sweeter. Sure, he had seen many a lovely lady in his time, but he could not name any that he found genuine. They would be charming and prime examples of the upper class, but the older he grew, the less he enjoyed their company.

Too much makeup. Too strong of perfume. Simpering smiles that were simply looking to please or attract attention. Words of admiration, extolling virtues they would have way of knowing he had (and often after only recently meeting him). Kissing up in any way, shape, or form. And even after the accident, people would claim it didn't bother them or make him look any less 'dashing', but the stares and wandering eyes decieved them. Sure, there were plenty of decent ladies and nicer maidens out there, but how many would act just as delighted to see him were he not a prince?

And yet, her smile didn't look forced or fake, and he found himself inclined to believe his betrothed as she spoke. Calmed her dismay? Well, she certainly seemed more at ease. Navarre gave a nonchalant half-shrug, meeting her small smile with a slight incline of his head, the corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly.

After a moment, he glanced at the desserts again, and after some deliberation, took a plate from the head seat for himself. "No sense in wasting good food. Clearly he doesn't care if he's willing to throw it like a child." he mused aloud, taking a bite of the torte.

----

After determining that both parties were arguing, but not at each other's throats, Gavin retreated further into his master's quarters, not yet able to leave fully for the time being as they conversed at the doorway. He didn't mean to invade upon Robin's privacy, and he certainly didn't want to be causing any more tension. Despite his attempts to not eavesdrop, he heard more than he felt he should. He felt anguish for the young man's lament, especially hearing what people said about him- and no doubt even to his face! Robin seemed such a decent fellow, and it was unfair that he was judged purely for being a bastard son. Not like he had any say in the matter!

Soon though, he had to physically restrain himself from giggling, hands clasped over his mouth at the butchered 'polly-ticks'. Gavin had never heard the term pronounced as such, and hearing it from a grown man was too much. He hid himself on the master balcony, working to compose himself for whenever the two were done talking.

----

The young countess was soon taken aback by Robin's loud and fervent reply. Flinching slightly at his sudden words, she could only stare at him wordlessly as his tirade continued. So he was completely new to the life of a noble? Well, he was a mercenary, so it wasn't overly shocking news. But he didn't even seem like he was excited or all that eager to take the place of the late earl. Surely he could see that was better than being a hired thug...

Kezia unconsciously bit at her lower lip, actually feeling a bit sorry for the male before her. Hypocrite was the nicest thing he'd ever been called? But what about the attendant who was with him when they had arrived? Did he not have any companions (though, she supposed, being a mercenary would not earn one many friends). And while his father did sound like a complete scoundrel (not that she'd ever met him at any social gatherings), he was still now able to advance in life because of it...

The young woman's muscles began to relax slightly as his voice quieted back down, though clearly his outburst had taken quite a bit out of him. His apology sounded sincere, and Kezia found she wasn't really able to retain her anger and indignation. He knew he had messed up, and was willing to acknowledge it. She expected that to be all, but an odd mix of disbelief and pity began to nag at her as he confessed his uncertainties. A slightly incredulous look passed over her features as he failed to pronounce what she was sure was a common term ('polly-ticks'? Really?), before his strong and firm stare met her eyes. He had the most intense eyes she could ever recall seeing...

Kezia began to feel sorry for the man as he lamented over the first day not going well as he had planned, and for a brief second, she felt the impulse to pat his shoulder reassuringly as she would her sister.

However, all coherent thought ceased to exist as his final words registered in her ears. She could feel all her blood rushing straight into her cheeks, coloring them a bright red as her eyes widened in shock. While she and Sera had been complimented on their appearance before, it had never before been so sudden...or so blatantly unprompted...

Letting out a squeek, she took a step back and shook her head, pointing an accusatory finger at Robin. "T-That's not fair! Changing the subject and saying such things so unexpectedly!" she stammered, clearly at a loss of how to respond to such a situation. She was not used to flattery outside of mingling at parties, and usually praise was not given after such a tirade. Also, it was usually accompanied by a smile and a chaste kiss on the back of the hand.