bend and break // barbrey & roose, flashback 2011
Barbrey twitched her lips and one couldn’t tell if it was a smile or a scowl. She wouldn’t. Barbrey thought. She was never content with that marriage but the Ryswells and the Dustins did always what was best for their families and so did her sister. Her life with Bolton was only illuminated by the presence of Dominic and Barbrey’s too. She was rather fond of the boy, she dared to admit with a certain pride. He was talented at everything he tried, smart, handsome, better offspring than Bolton could had ever hoped for and the opposite image of the monster he had now.
She chuckled softly to shake off her train of thoughts; perhaps the only reason she endured her ties with this family was because her spite against the Starks surprised anything she could ever feel for the Boltons. And now they were kin, truly, if not by marriage, by death and property. She turned around, her back at the grave, there was no point in lingering there and the air was getting cold. She raised her chin, she would not dare to look weak now, not by his side and at this land; she had to carry the legacy of both her names now and she was determined to do so. She fixed the collar of her dress. She was no stranger to black, she had been wearing it ever since Willam died.
Barbrey took a step ahead. There were several miles between this spot and the entrance where her limousine would be waiting, the walk would be long enough to speak what they had to speak and she did not like wasting time standing around in the same place.
"You take my words as an insult when they did not mean such thing", she continued, "I admire you, you and your opportunism, brother", she mimicked her tone as she could, "My sister did not quite know how to make the best of our estate but I do, it is wrong of my to say but perhaps Barrowton will now meet its better days, specially with you and I managing what we own", she paused, "What the Starks own", the two families were the direct managers of the Stark Group’s finances. Barbrey had always been amused to be put in such favourable position.
She starts forward and he falls into pace half a step behind her. The landscape around them is sparse and vast, only the vague green of the Scottish hills and the grey stern stones breaking it apart in places to jut free towards the overcast sky.
"Opportunism," he lets the corner of his lip pull into a smile, "That's quite generous of you indeed." He'd always thought of himself as a man whole carefully forged his opportunities rather than fell upon them.
The wind was knocking the rough tops of the grass amicably side to side around them. Standing where he was he could smell her perfume when the breeze caught against the edges of her hair just right. She smelled of something dark and eastern, opium or jasmine perhaps. Subtle. Just on the edge of the wind.
"There is nothing wrong with a simple acknowledgment of fact, and you need not fear appearances of immodesty in front of me," he answered, "No one would deny your 'knack' for financial management. You've grown a modest estate into something with direct impact on the course of this nation and that is no small feat. It's admirable. To say the least."
He couldn't help but notice the frown tempting her lips and the distain sparking in her eyes at the remembrance of the Starks. He was tempted to step along, raise his pace and move from her towards his own car. But there was new value in this conversation suddenly peering over the horizon.
"What do you think of their current situation? Of their ownership?"












