THE CAVALIER

richard boleyn viscount rochford Written by Bonnie for bloodydayshq

[richardofrochford]

THE CAVALIER

Richard Boleyn, Viscount Rochford

written by Bonnie for bloodydayshq

DOSSIER | NAVIGATION

[ofrosarys]

rose had parted from her husband to socialise alone. she knew it would be in her best interests to attempt to worm her way back into the boleyns' good graces; her mother's side of the family was not known for forgiveness without a price. reminding her cousins that she'd done it all for love never quite went her way, so rose knew that conversations would have to steer clear of arthur – a shame, since rose rarely thought of anything else but her beloved and their son – and veer towards safe topics of the weather, for instance, or her dress.

her lips quirked into a shy smile as her cousin, viscount rochford, approached her with a glass of wine. she took it, bowing her head in a grateful nod. "i thank you, my lord, for both the wine and your gracious compliment. you make a fine achilles," said rose, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip.

after two years in the tower of london reflecting on the double-sided nature of those she called family, rose carey was no longer naïve enough to miss the dual meaning of the viscount's words. rose knew very well that she would have to earn her family's forgiveness, and of course, they would never be outright rude to her; but it still stung. she swallowed, schooling her features into complacence. 

"yes, my edward keeps me quite busy. he has just recently reached his first birthday and has learnt to take a few steps without falling. we- i," she caught herself, smiling apologetically, "am rather pleased with him. but, cousin-" rose tilted her head to look at him, "what of you? how fares your time at court?"

[richardofrochford]

"Thank you, my lady. I know I am far from the most finely dressed among us, but my abilities when it come to pageantry have never been terribly strong." He smiled, jokingly self-deprecating as he looked down to his costume before looking back to Rose. Tension remained, but there was at least a cordiality between them, which remained better than it had been before.

"That must be very gratifying," he said. "To watch your boy grow. I can only hope I will enjoy the same sooner rather than later." For a moment, his eyes wandered around the room, seeking out Elinor, Richard still contemplative when it came to the offer she had made just a few weeks prior. "I am well as ever. Court does have its fluctuations, its ups and downs. But I think that now we are on the edge of something quite promising. Peace and prosperity, under the name of Boleyn." He smiled faintly, looking back to Rose once more. "I know things have been difficult. But I am hopeful that our family can be reunited. It would surely bring us all much pleasure."

[fitzrxyal]

"i find dover perfectly agreeable, though my joy goes with the court, wherever the king may take it. and our guests do make me curious, since they are after all my kinsmen, and we are yet to truly meet,” nel replied keeping her tone airy and light as she turned her thoughts over in her mind.

richard boleyn may be a terrible flirt, but he had much he might offer to her cause, if he were inclined to accept her suit. if she had remained a ward of the crown, with all of the freedoms that william bestowed upon her, perhaps she would her lingered in her maidenhood a little longer, but the only way out from the seymours was to wed. but it must be done properly, to someone who could be trusted by both herself and the king, for only then could her ambitions be fulfilled.

out of all the men at court, richard was the best suited to bring to the altar, to open her life and her secrets to, and to champion her rights. there was no reason to keep wasting time on the matter.

she allowed the dance to pull her towards him, close enough that no one could hear the words she breathed into his ear.

“i know what passes between you and my cousin. and i have a plan to benefit all of us,” she whispered, before drawing back again, the smile on her face not belaying any of the turmoil she felt within. louder, she spoke, “will you accompany me out to the terrace my lord rochford. i find myself in need of some fresh air.”

[richardofrochford]

"Yes, I suppose that much is true, that they are your kinsmen," he mused, curious. It was easy to forget, from a relative distance, that Elinor was close in blood to the Spanish queen and her children as much as she was their own King and Princess. There was no denying that Tudor blood ran throughout much of the court, in one form or another, and it certainly proved attractive in Elinor, as a relation who seemed entirely loyal to the King. "I hope that they show you only graciousness."

They were entirely in step, and Richard was prepared entirely, to find another witty remark, when Elinor spoke up instead, her words quietly shocking. It took quite a gesture to make Richard speechless, and yet here he stood, unsure of how to respond to her. "....Yes, of course." He finally managed to say, leading her to the terrace doors. He said nothing until the cool evening air hit his face, the two of them alone on the terrace. "I'm quite certain I don't know which cousin you mean, but I assure you that you must be mistaken, mistress."

[boleynsrex]

It brought the King, so often invigorated by such a conquest, whether vanquished by fair means or foul, no great surge of pleasure to prevail over Richard’s athletic prowess.  With a sweat-slick grip upon his racket, Wills’ ball had sprung over the net, soared past Richard’s shoulder, and bounced against the nearest wall, causing the lords and ladies seated in the netted observatory to ripple with a round of well-timed claps, brandishing their favours at the passing figure of their King.  ‘A rest, my lord, a rest,’ the King bade, a far cry from the sovereign whose joyfulness was like music to the ears of his subject; his charisma and magnetism likened to a sun shining amongst lesser lights.  With long strides, he joined Richard by the side of the net, panting with exertion. ‘Then I am a worthier actor than I give myself credit for, cousin.’

Slapping a counterfeit grin on his face – soon to descend into a glower of malaise – Wills realized with a start that he had no desire to tell Richard, his confidante and kinsman, of what had transpired with Percy – though it was unlikely Rochford had not already overheard the news.  He trusted no one now; for there was no one, save for his very mother, that he could not suspect above betrayal and treason.  ‘Dover is too near to be considered a victory,’  Wills countered, echoing the advice of his council as he dragged a cloth over his face. ‘Mary may rally an army of support yet – what with her constant hacking and pitiful eyes.  I daresay, cousin, I would sooner will all Spaniards to the depths of the sea than to acknowledge her as our father’s rightful daughter.  She is weak, like her mother.’  The King’s eyes scanned the crowds, too far to overhear his venomous words but near enough that his gaze could alight on the pretty, virginal faces blushing amongst the pews – though even this failed to summon ecstasy in him.  ‘I have had enough, I think, of the game.  I’m famished, are you?’

[richardofrochford]

William's response forced Richard's brow to lift in curiosity, but with a moment's thought, there was no question as to what he meant. The explosion that had occurred between William and Edmund was no secret to Richard, and had certainly placed him in a strange position. He and William had always been closed, a bond forged ever since youth. Edmund had been part of it, but now Richard saw him in an entirely different light, even in spite of the pain the news had brought him.

"You must at least give yourself some credit," he proposed, an unveiled attempt to sooth William's spirit. "You made great strides. We all saw it. Your power is certain. Who could look at you and desire anything else?" Racket hanging at his side, Richard nodded. "I could stand to take dinner. And if you wish for company, I would be glad to hear you speak of what is on your mind."

[richardofrochford]

@ anon: please send me a message in dms off anon so we can talk! ❤️

[richardofrochford]

@ofrosarys , hampton court's great hall

It was no mystery to Richard that one wing of the Boleyn family stood apart from the rest, the proverbial black sheep. The situation was a peculiar one, but he knew better than to question the judgment made by either his father or his crowned cousin, and so he had, for the most part, not much lingered on the situation of the Careys. Despite all, they were still family, and in Richard's estimation, the Boleyns were better united than apart.

It was the sentiment that ushered him to Lady Cavendish's side as the evening wore on, offering her a fresh glass of wine alongside a smile. "You make quite a talented Eurydice," he commented. "If only you had a happier story to tell." His words laced with double meaning, Richard faced her. "It is good to see you at court, dear cousin. I imagine your child must keep you quite occupied."

[richardofrochford]

Richard Boleyn, Viscount Rochford as Achilles

Richard attends the festivities as the Grecian hero Achilles, and looks every bit the warrior. His clothing is white, covered with a red cloak and wearing a pair of leather armbands, made just for the occasion. The cloak is fastened by a golden brooch at his shoulder, decorated with Tudor roses as an affirmation of his loyalty to his royal family. With him he carries a shield, elaborately painted ahead of the festivities. He will spend the night drinking and making merry, and it will be noted he spends much time with Elinor Fitzroy. It is not lost on Richard, however, that like Achilles, he too suffers following separation from his philtatos.

[edmcndd]

there in an unmarked enevlope that is delivered to richard boleyn the morning after edmund marries katharine brandon, it carries no notable signature on the outside, yet it is delivered by a trusted percy page boy. the last sentence is underlined a dozen times.| @richardofrochford

myne owne hertis rote ,

i pray that you read this before you break fast this morn, before your mother or father may whisper insidious rumors into your ears and taint your vision of me. i fear that in this moment, i have no effusive, doting language to offer you - i married another, i declared her my wife before god, and a witness. there is no way to make beautiful the betrayal that i have hurled against you, but i beg you to read my words & deign the truth that lies within them. 

fate has colored me a naive man to ever believe that a world may exist where we are together, solely with one another & no one else stuck in the midst of it all. to believe that i shall not be doomed to watch you marry another, to love her as you once loved me, to give her children that shall carry your smile and laughter - the very things that i have grown to love so tenderly? the thought leaves me restless most nights, yet i have foolishly sworn you to the same fate, we are lovers entangled as we sink to the depths of the merciless sea. 

richard, you remain my purpose, my guiding light, & the reason for my very being. there is never another that shall walk this mortal realm who will ever steal away this duty from you, and for that i lay myself at your feet. i am your humble, devout disciple, helplessly in love with every breath that you take. 

you are mine, i am yours. 

 - p. 

[richardofrochford]

Richard receives the letter and for a few days, he delays in responding. By that time, all of court is well aware of the news, and Edmund has been sent away from court in the face of the King's wrath. While he is a charismatic speaker, Richard struggles to put his thoughts to paper, and now more than ever, as he is overwhelmed with emotion. Finally, a few nights later, he sits down to write. His handwriting is something of a scrawl, giving evidence to the fact that the letter was penned after a quickly finished glass of wine.

Mine own heart,

I have agonised these several days over what I might say that could capture the whole of my feelings. The word of your marriage was a great surprise to me, and your chosen bride even moreso. Why did you not speak plainly to me of your feelings? This is the point which wounds me most, that you [several words here are stricken out and thus illegible] kept such a secret when we have shared such promises with one another. Is there more in your heart that I do not know? Tell me truly.

I know that I am selfish in my desire to share you with none other, but nonetheless I know your words to be true, that it is foolish to believe such a thing possible. The [another word is scrawled out here] tender affection I bear you has grown so great in these past months that I desire nothing more than to see you happy, and if this is how it must occur, then I shall attempt to dissolve my own envious feelings.

Your absence shall prove to be greatly painful to me, as I long to see you now. I would that we could speak and I could hear the reassurances from your own lips. However, ink must suffice and I shall also use it to promise you that despite all, the fire in my heart does not waver in its burning for you alone. I am impatient, but do not doubt that neither eye nor my heart will stray until you return to me. I will entreat His Majesty to regard you with kindness and welcome you and your bride to court once again.

You are mine, I am yours.

[richardofrochford]

@boleynsrex , hampton court tennis court.

It was a rare thing that anyone might have time alone - or at least its approximation - with the King of England, without the watchful eye of courtiers. It was a luxury few could afford, and Richard knew well that he must count himself as extraordinarily lucky to have it. Their shared blood was a boon in this regard, a fact which had created a closeness between them since they were just boys, sharing lessons and hobbies. Tennis was among them, a sport in which they both had much skill, shared competitive streaks brought to life.

"Well fought!" He cried with a breathless laugh as their latest game came to its end, William its victor. "Next time, I will best you. I guarantee it." Dabbing some sweat from his forehead, he took a moment to just survey the King. "You seem in a good mood," he chanced, swaggering closer to the net. "Pray tell, is it merely your great diplomatic victory that has pleased you, or have you found some personal form of joy? The former is a glad thing, to be sure, but it would be a joy to see you finding some pleasure as a brother, as well as upon your throne."

[jancboleyn]

status  :  closed  for  @richardofrochford location  :  hampton  court  palace. description  :   after his return from over jane seeks a reunion with her beloved son before the pageantry begins.

the bond between a mother and her son changed form many times over the course of their lives and yet remained consistent in strength in spite of time and distance. jane could still recall the days of solitude spent during her confinement, brushing delicate fingertips upon the stretched skin of her bump as she filled the air with silent wishes for her babe's future. in the days after richard came bellowing into the world she cradled him with such care and adoration, feeling as though she had known him a lifetime as she held her entire world in her arms and enjoyed their time alone before he would begin to walk, to talk and to one day belong to the court as they all did. now richard was a grown man, one who was every inch the man she had wished he would become those many years ago, and he was the pride and joy of her life.

though he was no longer a young boy who could get lost in her skirts the pain of knowing he had endured the journey to dover and all that transpired there was no less agonising, especially as she watched him depart knowing that she had no choice but to remain. the tudor court was a challenging place a best, one those who bore the boleyn name had captured and mastered with ease, and yet she cared less to observe what would transpire in the kind's absence and more to embrace her son once more. having called for him the moment he had returned and rested from the journey, the countess paced her chambers in eagerness and was so lost in her thoughts that the opening of the door startled her for a moment. with little care to express her fright or any vocal greetings, the mother crossed the floor and wrapped her arms around richard in the firmest embrace; melting into the feeling of holding her boy again with a silent prayer that the feeling would return to her time and time again for many years to come. " oh my son, welcome home! you must tell me of your travels but first come and sit with me, your mother is wearing from missing her dear boy. "

[richardofrochford]

If there was but one woman in the world who would capture Richard Boleyn's heart, it must surely be his mother. The other women of his family were well-loved by the Viscount, but there was no denying how much he adored his mother, indulged by her gentleness toward him. He wished to make her happy above all, even moreso at times than he desired to earn his father's pride.

Even if she had not asked for him, he would likely have come anyway. Despite his age, one never outgrew a comfort taken in their mother's embrace, and he longed to tell her everything that he could, and hear from her what had happened while he was away. Immediately he embraced her, leaning down with one arm tight around her shoulders.

"It is always nice to be missed," he teased, taking her by the hand so that they might sit by the hearth of her rooms. "The travels went quite well. I would consider it a great success, if the continued visitation of the Spanish is anything to go by. It went faster than a progress, at least, since there were hardly as many people. I gave His Majesty what assistance I could and found time for my own pleasures as well." He smirked a little then, but was nonetheless warm with her. "And you, my dearest mother? What excitement have you mice enjoyed while the cats were away? I certainly hope you did not find yourself lonely for a moment."

[edmcndd]

a devilish grin took root in his sharp features, directed at richard as the viscount caught up to him once more. he rested back against the saddle as he watched the other dismount, eyes following the movement with a lazy, heated gaze. " if i asked you to unseat him in my honor, would you?" he asked curiously, a barely concealed selfish desire in those seashore colored eyes. " it'd be quite a delight to see the foolish look on his face when you tossed him entirely off his horse." with a hearty laugh, edmund dismounted as well, both feet smacking into the ground as he entertained briefly what token of luck he may bestow on the other man, for he'd never excelled at needlework or flower arranging as his sisters may have. 

" you are a deceptively charming man," edmund teased, hands tugging off the leather satchel that he'd carefully tied to the animal, rifling through as he attempted to recall the things that he had previously shoved into the thing. " a bevvy of treats, some little cakes, an apple or two, a delicious looking plum that we may share," he rattled off, though his fingers plucked the plum, having already entertained a few sinful thoughts of licking the juice from the corners of richard's mouth. the earl held the aforementioned fruit in the air between them, palm up as he offered it to richard. "  take the first bite. consider this my token - a fresh plum, plucked with great affection from under the nose of kent's most prudent cooks. done gallantly so that you may feast from the fruits that you deserve, my heart." heavy with challenge was his gaze, tongue flickering to wet his lips.

[richardofrochford]

"Of course," Richard agreed at once to his question, undaunted at the prospect. "He may be a prince, but you know as well as I that such creatures can be overconfident. And at any rate, I would do a great deal more in your honour." It seemed he had already, in a certain sense, that he had risked much when it came to Edmund; he had made himself vulnerable, a thought which even a few months before might have seemed so difficult to swallow.

"Am I?" He teased in return, stepping closer to him. "I always thought myself rather forthright when it came to my charms. Perhaps I ought to be moreso." Richard grinned as he watched Edmund produce the fruit, picking up as if it were a precious jewel rather than a simple fruit. Perhaps between them, it was something precious, far moreso than anything that glittered. "You flatter me with such a gift," he insisted, amusement shining in his eyes as he took a bite from the plum, offering it back as he wiped the juice from his chin. "I think if I am to joust, I should still like some token of you with me. Perhaps I shall take one of your gloves, mh? Or perhaps even wear them. I think no one should be any wiser. But you can know plain as day that I am your champion." He had leaned close now, little distance between their lips. "What say you, your lordship?"

[fitzrxyal]

there seemed to be no end to the interests of men. nel was not blind to the draw of her looks, of her inheritance, of her connections. she imagined the attention would likely be flattering, if the idea of existing in a man’s mind in such a way did not make her skin crawl a little. the concept of marriage, of motherhood, was pleasant in a distance sense, but the realities life with a man who she could not love, and could never be understood by weighed on her.

so she put up a front of steely disinterest for every man that tried to sweep her off her feet, no more pleasant than she was absolutely required to be. she’d learnt that attitude from her mother, who forever danced just out of the reach of a second marriage. she’d been wealthy as a widow, one of the highest women in the country as a dowager duchess. nel was certainly wealthy, but while unmarried she had no control over it, and her status was high, but marriage could bring her higher, could restore her the titles that she had not been allowed to inherit.

richard boleyn had become a point of interest to her in the past few months. the man was a terrible flirt, but perhaps he was the sort of man who she could be honest with, and who she could be understood by.

she curtsied to him, let him take her hand and lead her into the dance.

“i thank you, my lord rochford, though you are too kind. the great hall is full of far more beautiful woman than i. i trust that you found the journey here pleasant,” she responded, in the same pleasantly distant tone that she always used. best not to preempt herself here.

[richardofrochford]

He could not help but find her a curious case, but all the same, he admired the spirit she seemed to possess, a quiet surety to her that few people seem to carry with them. Despite her continued distance, he could only suspect there was more to Elinor than met the eye (though of course, what met the eye was pleasing enough in itself.)

He was practiced as he guided her to the dance floor and joined in the steps easily, surprised at how readily she had allowed him to do so.

"Nonsense," he demurred. "There are many lovely ladies, yes, of both English and Spanish blood. But you mustn't be so modest." He offered her a smile as he rested a hand upon her waist, the blue silk nearly an identical shade to that of her eyes. "Pleasant enough, yes. Though I must admit that I prefer London, if I had my choice. Out here so near the sea, one feels quite... exposed." He paused the conversation as he turned her in the dance, meeting her eyes again only when they reunited. "How do you find Dover? And our guests?"

[truedevotions]

in a swift, silent second, isobel thanks the man before her for the unprompted assistance with a gentle tilt of her head, ensconcing herself in the ornate chair before deciding to offer richard another insouciant smile that many, regardless of their adjacency to the percy girl, could seldom see. she plays her games well, even those sans sleek cards, appearing, disappearing, vanishing, forever both guarded and vivacious, a master at hide-and-seek, the timeless game of apodidraskinda. “certainly, lord boleyn. anything else would be a true insult to my skill.”

false bravado, some would call it, but only a fool could belittle a boleyn or dare to dismiss their adroit maneuvers; an idiosyncrasy that they all appear to share to a varying degree. “piquet it is, my lord. the winner gets to decide the next game.” she leans forward, lifting her arms as her brocaded sleeves scatter across the table like the most scarlet poppies, denuded only of an opioid effect. “it did indeed. i spent it with my sister back at alnwick, with an occasional jaunt to our warkworth castle. that, of course, makes me hope that you and your family will get the chance to pay us a visit at least once, lord boleyn. northumberland is known for its unrivaled beauty. especially when the first white winds blow.”

“and what of your summer?”

[richardofrochford]

"Well, Lady Percy, we mustn't have that," Richard insisted with a playful smile touching his lips. "I shall give it my all, as I should hate to insult a lady of your standing." His smile expanded into a teasing grin. "And I know that I would never hear the end of it from our dear Edmund were I to upset you."

Dealing out the cards, he nodded at her recounting. "I should like that very much. I have never had cause to venture so far north, but I suppose you may be able to convince me." His eyes bright, Richard shrugged his shoulders. "It was pleasant. Not at all devoid of enjoyment. I spent some time at Hever to conduct business on my father's behalf. Joined the King for part of his progress, a good deal of hunting and hawking." He tipped his head, presenting Isobel with her cards. "But believe me when I tell you I find court at its busiest far more invigorating. I am a glutton for excitement, as it were." Leaning back again, he reached for his cup of wine, sipping it slowly. "How fares your sister? I mean no insult, but I feel I always see the least of her, compared to yourself and your brother."

[richardofrochford]

HOUSE OF BOLEYN | Family Tree

(feat. @jancboleyn, @georgebolevn, @thdilettante, @semperanneboleyn, @boleynsrex, @thunyielding, @cxvxndish)

Notable connected families: Cavendish, Devereux, Tudor, Wyatt Family motto: - Family symbols: Black bulls' heads on a white field; falcon (badge of Queen Anne)

[greengableslover]

You’d do well following his lead and wagering on me today. Is that not right, Hastings? Hastings?

[ishniu]

& @richardofrochford

The nights seemed to last longer when on any sort of royal progress, particularly during such an event as this. Negotiations and treaties were underway, of course, but those not involved in such things spent the days frolicking in the late autumn air, feasting to their heart's content, and dancing and drinking late into the evening. Annemarie enjoyed the merriment, as every Boleyn was wont to do, but more tempting to her were the words exchanged behind closed doors. If not for her sex, she might have been included in the discussions held between the king, his sister, and their councils; her lady aunt had the privilege of holding the title of Queen Dowager, and her cousin valued his mother's opinion more than most men. Thus is was her fate to parade among the ladies in the day time, waiting until darkness had fallen and most had gone to bed before she could pry details from her brother's lips.

He came to her chambers as he promised he would, ever a dutiful and loyal brother, finding Annemarie gently pulling a brush through long, dark tresses at her dressing table. A smile was offered through the reflection of her looking glass before she turned on her cushioned stool to face him. "You look tired," she observed in a matter-of-fact way, lowering the brush to her lap. "What topics of today's conversation have rendered you thus?"

[richardofrochford]

Since youth, affection had always persisted between the Boleyn siblings. Both carried their heritage as a badge of honour, a bond between them that could never be broken. Though Richard stood more apprised of the goings-on at court than Annemarie, he knew her to be just as clever as he was, if not moreso.

Arriving in her rooms, he was at ease, lingering back as he watched her tending to her hair. "Do I?" He asked, waving a hand and crossing over to sit on the edge of her bed. "The conversation is never-ending. Never mind the frivolities. You ought to consider yourself lucky that you are not obligated as much as I to make nice with the Spaniards." He huffed, shaking his head. "I wish I had had more time to practice my language. I am quite certain their retinue have fierce gossips under the cover of their mother tongue."

[edmcndd]

closed event starter for  @richardofrochford ( dover delegation ) !

while court back home remained locked in a tentative state of in between, edmund would be a fool to to pretend that he was not reveling in the jaunt to dover castle, if only because it granted a semblance of misguided fragile peace. there was no looming walsingham to question his actions, though he prayed nightly for the safety of his youngest sister, that she may return to them in one piece again. the amount of eyes elsewhere meant that it also afforded a bit of safety to edmund to indulge in a sinful desire, richard boleyn. his eyes basked in the glory that was richard, the sun casting a radiant near halo around the other man as they rode alongside one another, far from others that may have listened too closely to his words or the way his eyes lingered.

" i've heard the whispers that the spanish prince intends to claim himself glory in the joust," he spoke, lazily riding as they got further from the castle. " will you steal it from him?" there's a mischievous grin on edmund's face, drawing his horse closer to richard's. " if you ask sweetly, i may bestow a token of my favor upon you. perhaps jauntily tie it upon your lance?" with a soft laugh, edmund tugged his horse away once more so that they did not trot over one another. " shall we carry on riding, i believe there is a patch of sunlight just ahead, we can unpack the food we took from the kitchens and feast." edmund did not wait to hear an answer from richard before he shot ahead, laugh following after him as he ordered his horse to ride faster so that he may beat richard. 

[richardofrochford]

The autumn wind, this close to the edge of English soil, was cold, and yet Richard scarcely felt it, invigorated there in the sunlight. The feeling was aided, in no small part, by the company he kept. A month on from Edmund's proclamations, and Richard had not yet decided his own feelings. Nonetheless, he relished the closeness they shared, the intimate secret beneath the noses of esteemed courtiers, the body and mind both gifted to him so eagerly.

"I have no doubt that he does," Richard remarked, amusement written on his face. "But by my estimation, he seems overly confident. I feel quite certain that I could unseat him, if given the opportunity to oppose him." Glancing over at Edmund, he grinned. "Your favour would certainly be welcome. A token for luck. If not on my lance, then close to my heart." It amused him to think of the surprise that the court might have if he were to receive the favor for all to see, to imagine Edmund bestowing it upon him as if in some romantic tale.

The thoughts distracted him momentarily, but just enough for him to lag behind as the Earl's horse shot ahead of his own. He called out in teasing protest and urged his own onward, though admittedly held back; allowing Edmund to claim the victory in their little race. He slowed upon reaching the sunny patch, breathless as he searched his face. "You flush so prettily in the cold air," he teased, shifting to dismount from his horse. "Tell me, my dear Lord Percy, what have you snagged for us?"