Rosewood Manor was not too terribly difficult to find, not when you had the means and the motivation to do so. Now, certainly, no one would possibly understand Harland Briar’s motivations beyond the Duke himself, but here he was, cantering up to the estate that the lady had been given, giving Augustus over to one of the grooms with a charming grin.
You see, he had come to call because this was family, for lack of a better word, though Lady Scarlet hardly knew it. Balthazar was family, was one of Harland’s very few he claimed, despite the fact he sometimes wonder at why he did, and Kit was Balthazar’s. This was a secret Harland had known for some time, though few others did.
And she had just had a child. Well. Not just, but now was the safest time to visit the child, and Kit. He had a gift for Elia, after all and family were meant to give gifts in person. It was the Briar way.
Harland waited to be seen in the front sitting room, hands clasped behind his back, a small parcel laid gently beside him on the short table. He had, much to his chagrin, dressed well, though casually, for the ride over: creams and browns, greens and golds. Nothing too extravagant, for Harland Briar was not an extravagant faerie, but presentable. The Seelie turns on his heel when he hears Kit enter, a small grin on his face. His gaze flickers, moments later, in interest to her body guard before sliding back toward her.
“My apologies, my lady,” he says, voice formal, almost apologetic. “I understand that this is a rather…unorthodox meeting. But I wished to formally, finally, extend my congratulations for your child. Elia, was it? Duke Black and I have spoken often, of you and she, and, if you will permit my candor, your health.”
It was the truth, after all, and Harland Briar only dealt in truths, no matter how hard they may be, with his family.
To the guard, he turns next, gaze sure and warm, and offers a traditional Shark Clan greeting, a hand fisted over his heart as he bows, not so low as he had done to Kit but from one soldier to another. He had earned his place, and Harland’s respect, and the Seelie guessed that most did not think him worthy of either.
Duke Briar might be dressed in a more relaxed fashion, but the subtle designs betrayed his station and wealth all the same. Kit Scarlet had never been one for subtlety. She was due to meet with the King later on and had dressed accordingly. The shoulders of her gown were decorated to look as if they were an extension of raven wings. Alekto Bone’s talisman hung from her neck and her long fingers were weighed down by nearly half a dozen dark, glimmering gems.
“Your Grace, Rosewood Manor is well acquainted with the unorthodox so there is no need for apologies.” Kit replied, her own hands clasped in front of her, her index finger resting lightly on the inner aspect of her wrist. Her mother had taught her when she was young and easily startled at court to simply feel that constant beat and draw strength in its regularity. So a Duke, so close to her old friend, had come calling unexpectedly. Her heart would still beat even if this visit promised nothing but fresh hurt.
“I not only permit your candor, but welcome it wholeheartedly.” Kit continued. “Your congratulations are appreciated. She is a splendid child, just sleeping upstairs.” She would not invite him to see the child without discerning his true motives first.
Maddox was about to resume his post near the door- close enough to be within earshot and reach of his mistress, but far enough that most of the nobility could ignore him easily- when Duke Briar surprised him with his recognition. The surprise briefly showed on his face before the usual stoicism replaced it.
The gesture and Maddox’s subsequent reaction somewhat softened Kit’s mood. “Very few at court seem to be able to see my shadow guard,” Kit said. “But I have also heard that very few things or people can escape the scope of your attention, Duke Briar.”
Maddox scoffed in response. “You may keep your courtiers, my lady. I am perfectly content in the periphery.” He bowed to the Duke. “I mean no offense, Your Grace. Only that I am ill suited for polite conversation and company.”
