eudora-redwyne:
Haughty, arrogant, prideful the man was and that she could see at a glance. She could read people as she could read her spider who had not definable language at all at the very least to human ears. Read him she could in his eyes as well that information was withheld from her and the majority of the world. A secret the young man had, plenty of them and she would dare to go as far to wager he was no commoner but mixed with common blood bearing the name of snow or hill or stone or river. There was that edge; that clipped short tone that wished for business to be done but only a fool spoke that way to the lady of the arbor but what man knew that her walks often took her amongst the people to assess that status of her holdings?
âA price yes for one or two. You seem like a man who knows quality when he sees it and you will not be disappointed with what you get for the price you pay. For you young man - a reasonable price. Im sure its not for yourself that you buy this wine but I do have other things then just wine to sellâ Eudora smiled in a calculative smile waving her hand in the air and the grand ladies hands went to offer him a drink of something clear but clearly not water as it mightâve been shipped about in barrels but it was much stronger and to him she offered a taste. The merchant would be compensated for her dipping into his supply whoever it was that sold what was behind her which in truth was all her doing. This spirit though few men could handle. Further interaction would be determined on how he could stomach it. Stretching out her hand she offered it. The world stood silently by waiting for him to try the womanâs brew. This was a test and one other often failed. âTry it - just a single sipâ
He struggled not to gaze back at the woman with wide eyes. Though the weakness was evident from the tremble in his lower lip. Rodrik may have been a bold man when he wished, but he still knew when he was being mocked. Eyes the lightest shade of blew fell on the goblet. Only a fool would believe it was water she offered him. A wiser man would have assumed poison. Perhaps it was just that. A woman angry that he had the gull to speak to her in such a way. If their world had taught him anything, it was that humans were capable of anything. Their ambitions clouding any sense of reason. Those like him, the ones removed and shoved into dark corners could see through the royal facade. But for the others it was a game. A game of who could trump the other until no one remained standing. The woman before him was such a person. Or so he liked to imagine.Â
His palm shook as he reached for the drink. For years his fatherâs wife laced every drink with particular poisons or ailments to leave him sick and wailing into the night. It would be ironic if survived that long enough just to fall into the trap of another. Regardless he lifted the goblet to his lips, taking a single sip as she requested. The taste was bitter--foul even. Enough that if he wasnât exposed to years of sour ale on Sweetsister he would have spit it out within moments. An involuntary shiver coursed through the bastard as he attempted to stomach the liquid. His throat like molten lava as it danced down. She enjoyed power, he could tell. If he were to cough she would see him as weak. So he fought it. Every torturous moment as it pooled into his belly like a ball of flame.Â
It took several moments before he could find his voice again. âHave you just poisoned me, my lady? If so, I fear my sister will never have her precious wine.âÂ














