The deal was done, the future set, and everything was in full motion to the point that Lark was getting whiplash. And it hadn’t even been a full day. The news would break soon; Lord Andersen was to be wed. Not to the nautical career he swore to be his life’s devotion. No, Lark was to be wed to a woman and not just any woman…. Gwendolyn Dallben. A sick twist of fate it seemed that he truly could not make this decision for himself, that everything that had been designed by their parents had come to pass. It was cruel to put the two through, but their hands were tied, and in just a short amount of time he would be stood at an altar as Gwendolyn marched down the aisle to be his bride. It was decided, and nothing could change the circumstances he found himself in.
Everything was so new, the news so fresh for him, he wasn’t sure quite what to do with himself in the afternoon that followed the meeting with the Dallbens. He was supposed to present himself “properly” to Lord Dallben at some point, presumably to ask Gwen’s hand in a more traditional sense, but Lark wasn’t ready to face the great Taran of Prydain just yet. He was so at sea over the whole situation and he feared offending the man by being less than enthused about marrying his only daughter. He could have gone to the gentlemen’s clubhouse or to Centre Commercial, the beach — just about anywhere, but the idea of facing people while he was emotionally distraught over his future seemed like too arduous a task to endure.
So instead of following through with any number of activities he could have that day, Lark had decided instead to brood in his study by himself, staring out the window in sorrowful mourning of his life. He would likely lose his commission now, a young newly wedded lord did not make a good captain nor sailor. Not when a wife, and likely soon after babies, needed him close to home. And Gwendolyn, even the one giggling in the fountain, did not seem the “sailor’s wife” type — not at all the kind of woman who would leave home at a moment’s notice to live among filthy naval officers on a vessel in the ocean, where it smelled of rotted fish below deck and vulgarity was the language of choice. He couldn’t see her being comfortable and it would now be his duty to keep her happy and safe. Wasn’t that what husbands were supposed to do?
He shook away the thoughts, cringing at “husband” alone. The last thing he needed was to spend a whole day wallowing in his self pity. He needed to start turning his thoughts on this around, if he had any hope of convincing the ton that he and Gwendolyn have been some secret love match all along. He would need to look on her with such doting affection, must tend to her with such devotion, that no even their most skeptical cynics could truly deny they were an item. He needed to convince everyone of the validity of this union. Everyone. At that thought, he’d come to realize there was still one person he had yet to speak to on the topic, someone he should address before things got out of hand and the entire ton knew of his pending union. If he were ever to pull this off, then he would need the support of one person and one person only.
“Lyra, good, I was just looking for you,” Lark announced as he crossed into a room, grateful to see his sister had occupied it. He spied around, looking to see if any Chattermore pamphlets were around. If she had already read what was said about him and Gwen, then she would come in with questions. If not… there would just be a little more to explain. Either way, it would not be a simple conversation. He was meant to lie even to Lyra, to convince her just as the ton that he and Gwen have been in this all along. But he couldn’t lie to Lyra — she knew him too well and she’d see right through him. So the only way for this to work is if she was as complicit in the plans as their mothers were. That was the only way he could get himself through it. Surely Lyra wouldn’t let him get cold feet, nor allow him to fail at this. Surely she’d understand and be his support through this.
Sighing, Lark took a seat near his sister, staring at the wall and not at her with a furrowed brow, attempting to piece together the words he wanted to say. “I… There has been some ‘developments’,” he stated and paused, uncomfortable with the words he was using. “There is something I need to speak with you about,” he finally said more confidently. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard so far but you are bound to hear something sooner or later, some things which may feel contradictory to what you already know, and so I feel it my duty to explain to you so that you can confirm the validity of certain facts when they are brought up to you.”
He was quite stern, the topic seemingly very serious though he hadn’t divulged it yet. And of course it was serious — it was a matter of scandal or salvation to the family reputation, and another’s for that matter. Lark needed to do this right and well for all parties to survive unscathed. With a deep breath, he decided there was nothing more to do than just say what was going on and to allow his sister to formulate her opinion. So Lark let out a long exhale and rapidly concluded, “Miss Dallben and I are to be married. Rather soon. I felt it was important you hear this news from me and not elsewhere. It has been just barely decided and so you are first to know. Well, aside from mother, but never the less… I wanted you to know sooner rather than later.” He paused, allowing the news to sink in for the younger Andersen. “I take it you may have questions…?” @lyra-andersen
Lyra had decided that her best course of action for the day would be to mope about and wish that life was not so dreadfully exhausting. She felt sick from the evening before, a headache that could not shake itself away, like she had drunk galloons of wine the prior evening instead of a few glasses. Maybe there was some truth in the fact that messing with whatever the fae had to offer was always going to lead in ruin.
She remembered very little about the night before, other than seeing her brother soaking wet and crying on his shoulder at one point. Only one of those things was particularly noteworthy though and she had yet to uncover the truth about what exactly had lead him to go splash inside of the fountain. Maybe he really had fallen but there was something about his quick subject change that lead her to believe there was more to the story than he was letting on.
The study was as comfortable a place as any to be. She had cancelled her singing lessons for the day, too tired from the previous nights frivolities to use her voice more than necessary. Sometimes Lyra wondered why on Earth she hadn’t just decided to stay mute for her entire life. Now that her voice was out there people truly did expect her to use it whenever possible.
Except the times they wanted her to shut up.
She was about to greet her brother properly when he began speaking so sternly she was taken aback for a moment. At first Lyra swore that what he had said was nothing but a joke, a silly little thing to get her to feel bad for always telling him he should marry miss Gwen. But now, well this was certainly something to be worried about.
“And what on Earth have you done to force such a union?” Lyra asked point blank, unwilling to beat around the bush. “You know how much I adore the Lady and have thought from the beginning that your union would be for the best, but to have it thrown upon me so suddenly? There must be ulterior motives behind it, especially when you stand before me looking like the grim reaper himself is haunting behind your shoulders.”
