Lord Vyrwel, Lady Vyrwel, and Lord Redwyne were having rather the peaceful tea in a sitting room until Lord Vyrwel’s five-year-old son ran into the room, laughing. There was dirt covering his right side up to the underside of his arm and flowers had been clumsily arranged in his hair most likely by someone other than himself, but his eyes were sparkling with such joy that he didn’t seem to realize at first that he’d stumbled upon a gathering of the adults to which he was not invited.
He saw them, smiled, and gave a little bow. “Excuse me, my lords, mama. I did not mean to intrude.” He said, looking too happy to be sorry.
“Not at all, my lord. We were just speaking of you.” Lord Redwyne said, graciously, smiling back at the boy.
“Me?” Kovan said, a sort of surprised curiosity flashing across his face.
“Yes, dear.” His mother, said, expression indulgent. She beckoned him closer, and when he drew near, she leaned forward and asked with a twinkle in her eye, “How would you like to be betrothed to one of Lord Redwyne’s daughters?” It was spoken partially in jest, though she didn’t imagine Kovan to have any opinion on the idea at all. She was quite mistaken.
“Really?!” He asked, small face lighting up, entire body seeming tensed with a sort of thrumming excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet, but he had been well-taught, and very properly replied, “I should like that very much!” His small hands clapped together twice, but he stilled them quickly. He’d been trying to rid himself of such childish habits.
“Really?” Lady Vyrwel said, not answering him, so much as asking her own question, albeit with far less overwhelming joy.
His jade green eyes seemed nearly to sparkle, as he thoughtlessly spun around, and near shouted, “Kiyara and I will be married! I must go tell her at once!”
His mother’s eyes, the same startling green as his, widened in shock, and she had to press her sleeve to her mouth to stop the unladylike gasp of horror from escaping her lips. Before she could recover, however, Kovan was gone, his enthusiasm lending speed to short legs.
Shaking, she glanced at her husband. The look on his face, moments ago relaxed, fond, even perhaps amused, had grown stony and hard, also filled with the same horrified shock on her face. “I will go after him, my lord!” She said, hastily, “I won’t let him tell that girl such things.”
“And why not?” Lord Redwyne asked. Both Vyrwels stopped and looked him, though moments ago they’d been solely focused on each other. The man’s blue eyes, normally so soft and apparently welcoming, seemed oddly dangerous.
Lord Vyrwel puffed in outrage, “They could not possibly marry! She’s a bastard! The very thought of it is repulsive.”
The anger flashed in Lord Redwyne’s eyes, and Lady Vyrwel instantly knew that her husband had said the wrong thing, but there was no stopping him now. “Kiyara is a daughter of House Redwyne, and of noble birth on both counts.” Their host retorted, furiously, “You would do well to watch your tongue in speaking of her.”
Lord Vyrwel waved his hand as if it did not matter, “The natural daughter of House Redwyne. Kovan will inherit the seat of Darkdell one day. They do not stand on the same ground. Surely you jest to even suggest the match might be viable. It’s that cursed nursemaid of his, filling his head with foolish thoughts. Else he’d know better than to even associate with the likes of her.”
Lady Vyrwel was frozen on her feet, staring between the two men, desperately willing her husband to be silent, but too much damage had already been done. Another part of her desperately wished to chase her son so that he wouldn’t misinform the poor girl, but she knew she would have to see this horrible spectacle through to its end.
“You call my daughter repulsive and speak of her as if she is beneath you and your son.” He stood up, none too composed as he said, “Our negotiations must end here, my Lord Vyrwel.”
“You cannot be serious.” Lord Vyrwel said, astonished. He had clearly missed the obvious signs. “Over a bastard?”
“A slight to one of my daughters is a slight to my person, Lord Vyrwel. You are no longer welcome at the Arbor.” He snapped back. “Take your sons and leave these halls.” And he swept out of the room. Lady Vyrwel didn’t look at her husband. She closed her eyes, took a deep steadying breath, and then left as well, to order the servants to prepare their departure and fetch Kovan before he could find the little bastard girl.