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The Ward (NobodysAngel80 x EvelynWillows)

The Duke seemed quiet pleased with Rihayne's response. In fact, he was beyond pleased, but he kept his expressions more civil and simply kissed her hand before leaving. "Then, my dear, I look forward to seeing you again. Very soon." His eyes lingered for a moment on hers before he turned away after ensuring that she was able to unlock her front door, and reentered his carriage. The nobleman's carriage quietly moved down the street and disappeared around a corner.

Kline had long retired for the night, and for the most part the shop was quiet. Dark shadows inside stretched long across the floor of the shop, and the dust of flour and powdered sugar had long settled in the still air. Roguel sat still as a corpse in a chair in the corner, his eyes watching as the proprietress returned to her shop and home. A muscle in his jaw twitched in irritation at the confirmation that Duke Liam had designs on the naive baker. Any interaction with that beast was sure to taint her pure and trusting nature, especially with the sweet trust that she seemed to give every person she met.

Including Roguel.

He waited until she was completely alone before he spoke. "You never mentioned having plans for the night."
 
Well, that brought her down from her daydreamy high very quickly. She'd gotten the door unlocked and waited to see his carriage roll away before turning and heading into the store, unable to resist giggling to herself at the fairy tale absurdity of the night's events. "Why yes, Your Grace, I would love to see you again! Ohh! Diamonds, you say? For me? And a holiday across the ocean? Why Your Grace, you're too ki..." Her fluttery little monologue was abruptly stopped by a squeal as someone else in the store spoke, and lovely dress or not, she'd yanked a chair up in her hands and was looking around for the burgler before she recognized the voice.

"Roguel?" She said, blinking in the darkness. "I...I didn't have any plans at all. The Duke came in just before I was starting to close up and...well, he invited me out. You'd said not to let anyone in until you arrived, but since he was inviting me out, I didn't think you'd mind, since he'd be taking me out instead of anyone being invited in." He seemed...well, she wouldn't say that he seemed angry, but he wasn't precisely pleased. She winced slightly, setting the chair down. "I...I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived. I really did try to tell him that I couldn't go but...well..." She smiled a bit ruefully down at the dress she wore. "It was a bit like telling a wave not to sweep you out to sea, I suppose. Before I knew it, he'd cast a spell, I as in a fine gown and in a carriage on the way to a fancy ball."

Rihayne had always felt a bit undone without something to occupy her hands, and so she set to work putting on a pot for tea for the two of them. "I saw the king there, you know. It was a party for a nobleman and his daughters who were wanting to join the court, I think. Or something like that." She smiled a little at her friend. "I saw a lady there who had ropes and ropes of diamonds and pearls braided into her hair! Can you imagine? Every which way she turned her head, she sparkled! I was going to dance but...well..." She sighed a bit, frowning glumly. "I suppose I should just be glad that the Red Mage didn't feed me to his hellhounds. He was there too, you know! I mean, of course he would be there, since the king was there."

She leaned against the counter, recounting her tale. There wasn't anyone else that she could tell it to; Kline would care less for descriptions of a fancy ball and more for descriptions of the food, and her pets weren't exactly the sort to have two sided conversations with. "I think that the Duke and the Red Mage don't like each other. Or maybe the Red Mage could tell I was a commoner. I probably smell like a commoner ro something. Or I have a commoner mark on my forehead that only mages can see." She grinned a little. "Either way, he wasn't happy in the least when he came over. He ordered the duke to take me home." She sighed a little wistfully, looking down at the dress a moment, smoothing it over her stomach. "Which is a shame, I think. I have marvelous stories of ladies with feathers and diamonds in their hair, of seeing the king in person, of even being close enough to touch the Red Mage, and yet I didn't even get to dance at a dance!"

The tea kettle was nearly ready and she glanced towards Roguel, smiling a little. "I suppose I should be grateful though. It's terribly rude of me to just be whining on about how I didn't get to dance."
 
The ex-soldier stood, his tall, hard body creating a palpable presence in the room. "The Duke just stopped by and invited you out? To a fancy party with the king? I don't suppose you had this dress just laying about, catching dust and waiting for such an opportunity to pop up?" He moved closer to her and fingered the silken trim on the lovely garment. His eyes caught the way the cut of the dress accentuated her curves and the way they dipped and tucked into her, inviting the eye to seek out more.

"Mages are dangerous people, Rihayne, and nobility even more so. Do you forget that it is because of the king and his noblemen that your parents had to flee or risk the dungeons? Do you not fear the High Inquisitor, Aimast? He would eat you up for breakfast and use your bones to pick his teeth with afterwards!"

He shook his head and took her face in his hands. The hard callouses on his palms rubbed against her delicate skin like a cat's tongue. "Rihayne...child...your parents would never forgive me if you fell into the king's hands on my watch. God....if the Inquisitor or the Red Mage got hold of you, you'd be done. Please, tell me that you'll never see this duke again. Whoever he is, he cannot be a man who truly has your best interests at heart. The fact that you think that he is not a friend of the Red Mage makes it even more dangerous for you! I couldn't bear it if you wound up in the dungeons." He drew his hands away as he turned towards the kettle.

"Do you not yearn to visit your parents? Perhaps travel to your father's homeland and see what it is like?" He wanted to get her as far away from Duke Liam as possible. It concerned him greatly that the man had taken an interest in the little baker, and Roguel was nearly certain that the duke knew why the Red Mage himself was interested in her.
 
She huffed a little as he spoke, and she couldn't deny the things he said made sense. After all, she wasn't foolish. But she couldn't help but think that Roguel was attributing a little more sinister intent to the Duke than she thought was entirely justified. "He said he knows my family and that they were friends. And he looks elven too, the same as my father, so it's unlikely that my family had dealings with nobility while I was too young to notice, but it's not impossible to be honest." She frowned a bit and glanced towards the tea kettle watchfully, not wanting it to boil over. "And besides, yes the Red Mage and the Inquisitor are properly terrifying individuals, they aren't the only people in the world that know magic. I mean, my father's people used to be lousy with it. Still might be, for all I know."

Then his hands were cupping her face and she blinked owlishly, surprised at the contact. "I...the king can't possibly care about me. I don't look elven, I don't go throwing spells and such around, for heaven's sake, I have to bribe my cat with food to even let me pet him unless he's feeling too lazy to protest so he's certainly not a witch's familiar or anything. There isn't anything in the least remarkable about me, and I can't imagine the king getting a bee in his bonnet about a simple baker that could barely make even the slightest claim to anything even remotely remarkable." She frowned a bit, feeling the words cut both ways. She was painfully ordinary, utterly unremarkable. As kind as the Duke's words about her had been, they were charm and flattery, and she wasn't so foolish as to think she would be anymore than an amusing distraction.

"I'm not so simple as you think, you know. I'm not a brave soldier with stories of battles to tell, and I'm not a powerful sorcerer who can make silk gowns appear out of thin air, and I certainly don't have hellhounds at my beck and call or live forever. I know what I am. And I think you're probably making more of a fuss about me than should at all be warranted. People like the High Inquisitor and the Red Mage and even the king don't care about people like me. And even the Duke, if I'm anything, I'm simply a momentary distraction because he's rich and powerful and utterly bored. But regardless of all that, my place is here. This bakery is my family's legacy. It's been in our family for generations. And I'm not going to let some nobleman's fancy or the fear of some foolish spellslingers with more ambition and plots than good sense drive me off of what is mine!" Her chin raised stubbornly and she folded her arms, and looked for all the world like a little woman-shaped boulder, refusing to be moved.
 
"You're right, of course. I'm making far too much of it." Roguel's voice dropped in intensity. He realized that he was coming on too strong, and that he might scare her off into the very arms he was trying to warn her away from. She stood her ground like a little mountain; her soft curves covering up nerves of steel.

"I suppose I feel responsible for you. You're like...a little sister or cousin. I went away for war and now that I'm back you're all grown up. You don't even remember me, but I remember the way you used to play with little dough dolls your mom made, and how you never let anyone eat them once they were baked. It was really cute. I think you even had a whole family of dough dolls, but the blacksmith's dog got into them and ate them." He smiled wistfully, remembering the way the little four-year-old Rihayne had cried over her lost 'family'.

"I have no one left. It's not your fault, of course. I'm sorry, Rihayne. Maybe I just feel like the Duke is going to whisk you away forever." He picked up his cloak. "I should really leave. The wood is cut and stacked...you should have enough for the morning and for tonight. It might be cold." He paused. "I fed your little dog. I forgot his name."

He looked back at her and his eyes met hers. "You look beautiful, by the way. I'm certain that, if the Red Mage remembers anything about you it's how lovely you looked tonight." His clean cut jawline twitched slightly. She had been lovely that night; a pure beacon of innocence among the jaded and worn out noble women who were prowling the dance floor in search of their next conquest. If anything, that was the thing that he had noticed first about her. It hadn't been as apparent in her bakery, but among the wilted flowers of the noblewomen, Rihayne had shone like a fresh blossom in the spring rain.

"I, ah...I'll be by tomorrow to see if you have any more work for me."
 
She smiled fondly as he spoke, shaking her head at the remembered foolishness of the row she'd made about that dog eating her dolls. "I'm surprised you even remember that. I can't imagine that little girls crying over bread being eaten would have made such an impression on anyone." She laughed ruefully. Then she frowned, looking up at him with a sigh. "I wish I did remember you. There's so many things I wish I remembered from being a child. I suppose as we get older all those memories get pushed to the back, like old books in a dusty shelf to make room for the new memories." She laughed a bit as he mentioned feeding Wesson, shaking her head a little. "Well, you've gone and done it now. You're his best friend for life. Then again, if you really want to impress me, get Freckles to let you pet him. Mother used to say that the Red Mage summoned him too, but even he can't tell a cat what to do and so the thing wandered off and took up with us just to be ornery." She grinned a little at the thought. "Maybe that was why he was so irritable with me. He thinks I stole his cat. I have to say, the stories must be true then. They both have the same sour grapes expression. I'd have to say the Red Mage is handsomer, though he'd look quite nice with some whiskers on his nose too."

She blushed a bit as he said she looked beautiful, glancing down at the dress and twirling once, feeling the silk fan out around her like waves. "Hah! I guess it just goes to prove that enough silk and pretty company can make any woman look lovely! I doubt the Red Mage finds anything lovely. He just has that look about him, you know? Like he's very old and has seen a great many things that he didn't like." She pondered that a moment. "He probably has. I know I'd probably be in a snit all the time myself if I'd lived that long just to watch people being foolish and silly all the time." she smiled down at the dress. "He made it with magic, you know. It'll probably turn back into my baker's clothes at some point, but that's alright. I can't imagine any reason for me to have a silk dress anyway. A good apron though, that'll save your life." She glanced up at him as he got ready to leave. "Well, I can't imagine that I'll need more wood chopped, but if you come by, I'll put you to work doing something, if you're so bored." Leaning up, she pressed her lips to his cheek quickly, smiling a little. "I probably did that a lot when I as a little girl. Since I can't remember, only seems right to make a new memory of it. Get some sleep, it'll do wonders for your disposition."
 
Roguel just smiled and let Rihayne deduce what she could about the Red Mage. He wasn't in a position, as the ex-soldier, to debunk any of her thoughts. He didn't want to either. There was a fine line in watching and protecting the young half-elf and in becoming part of her life. She deserved her own life, whichever life she chose, and it wasn't his place to interfere with the natural order of things.

Of course, he wished that the High Inquisitor would keep his filthy claws off of her as well, but he wasn't the Inquisitor's master. Neither was he his slave, though the man liked to hint that there was more between the two of them.

He froze for a moment as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was an innocent gesture, purely sweet and without ulterior motive, but it made the man pause. Eventually he nodded and took a half-step back. "Yes, of course you did. And I'll be back tomorrow but not so early as today." He took her hand and pressed it to his heart. "Just promise me you'll take it slowly and cautiously with this...duke of yours. If he's a mage and a nobleman then I fear his intentions are not completely honorable, Rihayne. You deserve someone who intents are."

Once he was outside of her shop he dissolved into the shadows. With one step he was behind the bakery, with the other he was emerging from behind the shadows in the great hall. The chief of the guards gave the Red Mage a nod as the black and red leather clad man strode back to his customary spot near the king. It was good to have minions, especially those he knew would sooner gouge their own eyes out than cross him.
 
She smiled and sighed, a fondly exasperated sound that showed she would humor him but thought that perhaps he was being a bit too suspicious, very much like the way a younger sister would look at an older, overprotective brother. Perhaps that had been the sort of relationship they'd had, back before he'd left to go to war. "I promise, I will be ever vigilant to nefarious plots by the Duke. Rest assured I won't let my guard down, only to find him having made off with my bakery, my soul, my maidenhood or any other important thing." Her cheeks dimpled slightly as her smile widened. "Now stop worrying about me and go home. Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow at a decent hour this time." She waved him goodbye and, after a few moments of work, she was able to get the shop closed up and headed up to the apartment.

To her surprise, the dress didn't vanish when she took it off and hung it up. When the duke had magically prepared her for the party, he'd cleaned her as thoroughly as a scouring bath in scalding hot water, and so aside from a quick washing up and pulling on of her nightgown, she was settled into bed with Wesson and, surprisingly enough, Freckles by her side. She'd take an early night tonight, she reasoned, and that way she could make up for the sleep lost that morning. Suddenly there was a great deal to look forward to in her life; Roguel visiting, seeing the Duke again, perhaps even having an occasion to wear such a beautiful dress once more. She couldn't say that her life was entirely boring anymore, and that was a special gift of its own.
 
The Red Mage shadowed King Lothian the entire night, and finally it came time for Count Mimbrae of Duscany and the king to retire to a private chamber and discuss their business. This extended into the wee hours of the morning, with more discussions promised after both men had rested. The king had ample time to eye the Count's lovely daughters throughout the night and he was well-pleased. He enjoyed alliances with power-hungry men; they were easy to manipulate and were eager to overlook inconsistencies in contracts as long as the bottom line promised wealth and influence.

The Red Mage watched as the Count agreed to exchange his daughters to the king for extended lands and the promise that tariffs would be levied against the Count's competitors. As far as Count Mimbrae was concerned, his girls were going to become wives to the king; they would be treated well and have children who would inherit the throne. The girls were excited as well; they had succumbed to the king's enchantment and saw before them a man who looked vibrant and virile; any girl's dream come true in a suitor. The truth was that both girls would be married...but not at the same time. The king found the idea of having more than one wife at a time abhorrent. He wasn't adverse to marrying one and playing with her until she bored him, then killing her off and marrying her sister. It was a pattern that he had completed so many times that only the historians kept track of how many wives he had gone through.

Early the next morning, Lord Winters made it home to his manor. He nearly ignored his valet but when he saw the dish of dinner that his loyal cook, Cecilia had left for him in his chambers, he had to smile. She was a very thoughtful woman. It was good that she knew not of what he did during the day; Roguel disliked having to check his food for poison.

He sampled the dinner and then cast a spell upon himself to allow his rest to be doubled. Then, before the sun began to peek over the horizon, he slept. His dreams were wrought with images of Aimast K'Grun marrying Rihayne so that he could bleed her into the Chalice of Life. Roguel saw images of the king laughing over a wine glass filled with steaming red life, his lips filthy with power as the baker laid on the ground beneath their feet.

With a gasp Roguel sat up in bed.

His heart pounded hard against his sternum and his breath coming in hard, short gasps. The problem with being powerfully in tune with the rhythm of the galaxies was that dreams were not to be taken lightly, and this dream screamed for attention. The Red Mage pulled off his covers and got to his feet; he had to put the tracing spell on her today. Now. He had to protect her for the sake of his vow to the Mistrayder family. He owed them.

Moments later a young, tired-looking ex-soldier was making his way through the early morning streets of Vistamere towards The Sweetest Things shop.
 
The night passed uneventfully and for that, Rihayne was grateful. An early night meant an early morning, and after a languid shower and a very enjoyable breakfast (sneaking quite a bit of bacon and eggs to Wesson and even a bit to Freckles, who was being uncharacteristically friendly of late) she headed down early to the bakery to get things started for the day. Not much longer and she'd have a half day off, which would do wonders for her disposition. She was fortunate that even with the extra work of the shop she was able to have at least some time to herself. There was a lecture at the university, a symposium on herbs and their alchemical uses. She had taken a few classes in medicinal herbs and potions making before, had toyed with the idea of taking the examinations required to see if perhaps she could become an accredited apothecary. However, then the whole thing with her parents happened and...well, some things had to be pushed aside.

She looked much more fresh and awake this morning as she began to work on getting the breads and pastries for the day started, setting the stew and roast beef to simmering over the hearth, and marveled at how good she felt this morning. Did fancy wine have this sort of effect on people? That would be silly, magical wine at a party but perhaps it was something herbal put into the drinks. Still, she was glad for the lift in her spirits; maybe it was just the boost of being so grandly and extravagantly complimented and courted after a fashion by a mysterious, dashing stranger.

She smiled a bit to herself, looking down into the bubbling soup stock and sighed a little. It was silly of course; letting her mind run away with wild suppositions and building up her hopes and all would only lead to disappointment. But it was hard not to do so; after all, it had been a night straight out of a fairy tale, and well...fairy tales tended to end a certain way. Not that she was expecting anything like that! Ohh dear, she had to stop this silliness right now! Roguel would be here soon, and he'd been unhappy enough as it was with her allowing the Duke to take her to the party; she hated to imagine what he'd say about her daydreaming and woolgathering like this.
 
Long before anyone else in town should have been awake, a knock came at the door of The Sweetest Things. A porter stood there, carrying a very large arrangement of flowers, some that she had never seen before. Another porter nearby handed the baker a silk envelope with golden writing on it.

"The Duke wishes to invite you to a late lunch tomorrow," the porter informed Rihayne as he bowed to her. "He'd like to know if he may send a carriage to pick you up around three."

Roguel slowed his steps when he came around the corner to see the carriage parked in front of Rihayne's shop. He felt his jaw twitch in irritation and the increase of his heart rate as he tried to quell the fury that was rising up in him. His fists clenched involuntarily, digging small red crescents into his palms.

Once the carriage eased away from the shop he went to the back door. Steeling himself and taking a few deep breaths, he opened the door to go in. Freckles immediately went up to him and twined around his legs, purring and with his tail held high. Roguel let his breath out slowly. He picked up the cat, stroking him along his back as he tried to casually stroll into the kitchen where Rihayne was.
 
Well, she certainly hadn't been expecting a delivery of beautiful, exotic flowers that very morning from the Duke, and it showed in her slightly flabbergasted expression. "I...ohh, thank you. I...tomorrow? I mean, the shop and all..." She looked down at the flowers a little helplessly, setting them aside and taking the envelope, biting her lip a little. Roguel would tell her not to go. Perhaps she shouldn't. Perhaps it would be better to politely decline, to not seem so eager. But she was looking forward to seeing him again and that seemed petty and needlessly coquettish of her to turn him down so arbitrarily. Tomorrow was her half day, and while she'd been hoping to attend the lecture... She chewed her lip thoughtfully, trying to figure out the timing.

"Please tell the Duke that I would very much like to see him tomorrow and that a late lunch around three would be lovely. However, if he will be near the university, I'll be attending a lecture there and it should be ending around three. I hope it's no inconvenience to him." She hadn't had a chance to go to any of the symposiums at the university since her parents left, since most of them were held on nights when she wasn't able to close up early. Surely as an educated man talented in magical arts, he would understand her desire to attend the lecture.

With her answer and her direction to just place the flowers on the counter, the porters and the carriage left Freckles meowed loud enough to wake the dead and she turned to see Roguel stepping into the kitchen. Suddenly she felt very foolish standing in front of a flower display that should have probably been decorating a very fancy dinner party table and not her little shop. "Ohh! Good morning, Roguel! You're here earlier than I expected. And I see Freckles has finally abandoned me for you." She smiled a bit, tapping the envelope against her palm nervously, not wanting to open it in front of Roguel, knowing his feelings on the matter.
 
Roguel set Freckles down on the floor, gently letting the cat jump the final foot to the wooden planks beneath their feet. "They're lovely," he said, looking over at the flowers. "I believe the Duke has discovered that you store sign refers to something other than your baking." He stepped closer to her, his body nearly touching hers. "You deserve to be loved, Rihayne. I just hoped that you would fall in love with a good man. Someone who would truly deserve your goodness."

He reached out and touched one of the flowers. "Do you think you're falling in love with him?" His eyes looked directly into hers. She was the daughter of the last of the Mistryders. He had an obligation to keep her safe, both in body and heart. "Are you seeing him again?"
 
She bit her lip, looking towards the flowers a moment, considering how best to respond to this. Then he was close, much closer than she had expected to find him, as close as he had been yesterday, when he'd chased her upstairs to shower and freshen up for the day. Close enough to feel his warmth and it made her blush and swallow hard as she looked up at him, her mouth dry. "I...I don't know if I will come to love him. And I certainly don't have any illusions that he loves me now after one day. But...it could be possible, I suppose. It's possible that I could come to love him and that he could come to love me." She picked up the vase, moving them out of the way and to a cooler place so that they wouldn't wilt so quickly from the heat. They were questions that she didn't really know the answers to, not yet at least. She'd only met him yesterday, how could she know how she would feel about him in the future, or how he would feel about her.

"Honestly, I don't really see it happening in such a way. He's a lord, after all. A very highly placed one, from all accounts, being a duke and all. There's nothing I really have to offer to such a man; I doubt he'd find a small bakery to be a coveted dowry, and I can't imagine myself being the sort to manage the sort of household that a nobleman would have. But...it is a nice fantasy, isn't it? Like a fairy tale. It won't last forever of course, no matter how many happily ever after those stories end with. But...it's rather nice to feel special, to feel like a princess once in your life." She glanced towards him a moment, laughing at her own silliness. "And I did say that I would meet him for lunch tomorrow after the alchemical lecture at the university. It's rare for them to have them in the early afternoon, and especially on my half day. So, good fortune all around!"
 
"Reina, your father is an important man. I don't know how much you understand, but he's not just half-Fae. It's his other half that makes you so special." He firmed his lips and started to turn away. "It's not just that...I..."

Roguel looked over at the flowers. How could he tell her anything without scaring her or pushing her away?

"I guess it's just that you're like a little cousin to me. I don't want you to be hurt, but I'm glad that you're happy. I guess I'd be happier if it was the local blacksmith or cobbler who had decided to court you instead of some Duke. I just don't trust the nobility." Especially since I've known too many and the Duke in particular.

He pulled out his gloves and slipped them on, moving away from her finally. "I'll be in the back. Call me if you need me." His eyes flitted over hers. He wished he hadn't stayed away so long. She had grown up and bloomed into a woman practically overnight.
 
She looked confused and a little put out by the insinuation that her father was something important. He was half-Fae, his other half was human. She was only one quarter Fae herself, which was why she didn't have any of the Fae features aside from the color of her eyes. There was nothing more to her family, certainly nothing that smacked of great conspiracy or hidden importance. Her father's family in their homeland were either minor nobles or a wealthy merchant family, she wasn't entirely sure which, since he'd never spoken much of them. But...Roguel's words didn't make any sense.

Of course, then he dropped that little punch on her. Like a little cousin to him. No woman wanted to be regarded in such a way. She wasn't saying that she had any sort of hidden, desperate tendre for him, but he was dismissing her like a child. He mentioned wishing that a blacksmith or cobbler had courted her instead and she frowned sharply, unable to keep from following after him into the back. This needed to be addressed, because he was making all sorts of assumptions that simply seemed mean spirited and prejudiced. Had some noble or another done him some wrong? Had he been passed over for a promotion, blamed for something he hadn't done, because of a noble? She wasn't certain that a simple soldier in the army would have had any sort of contact with enough nobility to make a real assessment of them, but she was going to find out.

"You're making an awful lot of assumptions about a person that you haven't met, aren't you? I mean, unless you and the Duke are somehow bitter rivals or he stole your true love or something like that and I don't know about it. And besides, who are you to paint all nobles with such a broad brush? That's not fair, there are probably some very nice and kind nobles! Just like not all soldiers are drunken womanizers and not all mages are stooped little old men that smell like mold and dust." She folded her arms, tilting her chin fiercely and glaring at him. "And you can wish all you want that a cobbler or a blacksmith had decided to court me but they didn't. None of them ever came to my door and invited me out for a simple dinner, or to a festival or anything like that. No one ever cared to think that I might like to be courted. Do you know what it's been like these past two years? Ever since my parents left? It's been long and hard and lonely." She felt as though she was whining and she ought not to; after all, so many people had it worse than her but she was hurt and a bit angry and didn't care if she spoke up right now.

"I couldn't go to university anymore. I was studying to be an herbalist, maybe open up my own apothecary shop one day. I had talent, my teachers said. They were going to allow me to test to see if I might be able to study magic! Me, casting spells to knit bones and flesh back together, to cure fevers and purge sickness! I...I had friends at the academy, and...and even a boy or two I fancied. But they're all finished with their studies now, or they've left the kingdom. And h-here I am now, working the bakery, getting half of one day off a week! S-so maybe I'm...I'm being foolish, thinking that maybe a duke would see something worthwhile in me, especially since all those blacksmiths and cobblers you prefer seemed to find me utterly uninteresting. But I just...want to feel a bit special for once. Just a little."

She swallowed thickly, her anger having burned itself out into tears and she turned quickly, not wanting him to see her so upset. "I'm not...as stupid as you think I am. So don't treat me like it." She headed back inside quickly, tilting her head up and staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, forcing herself not to start crying like a silly little girl. Everyone had been forced to make sacrifices since the king's rulings had come down. Hers weren't anymore onerous than anyone else's, and she was far better off than many people. Even still, much as she hated it, sometimes she couldn't help being a girl.
 
He didn’t expect her to follow him out to the back of the shop. In fact, it was one of the last things he would have guessed she’d do. And when she wondered if he and the Duke were rivals or if the man had stolen Roguel’s true love it was as if a dagger of blue ice had been thrust into his chest. He felt the cold clarity of what had divided the two men for so many decades, and what drove them to constantly undermine each other despite the personal cost. They had been rivals. There had been a love lost, and more. And now Aimast K’Grun was threatening the last of the bloodline that the Red Mage had sworn to guard, and there was little that Roguel could do about it without making the crumbling world around Rihayne fall apart that much faster.

He felt the unanswered cries of her lonely heart, of her woman’s need for love and companionship, and of the empty nights and simple days that had dominated her life since her parents left. He heard the sacrificial tears that came with giving up her dreams to manage the shop, and he could almost taste the salt of her anguish.

“Rihayne…I…” He stumbled over his words as she admonished him to stop treating her as if she was stupid. He, who silenced kings with a glance and negotiated lives as if they were coins, could not find the right words to explain to a mongrel baker girl why he needed to protect her and keep her away from the dashing Duke Liam. He felt every bit the part of the young ex-soldier he was playing.

She walked away and he knew that he had to do something. He couldn’t leave her broken like this; but what could he tell her? What could he do that would make it more right rather than rip her pretty little world apart?

Roguel followed her back into the shop. He let the door slam behind himself as he stalked to her, taking in her hurt tears and the pain he saw in her eyes. “Rihayne.” He turned her towards himself and brushed the tears off her cheeks. Her tender vulnerability shone brightly just then. She wasn’t that little child he had last seen so long ago. She was a woman now. A compassionate, vibrant, sensual and needful woman, and she wanted to feel like she as special.

If only she knew how special she was.

He took her by her shoulders and kissed her then. A simple, lips on lips kiss between a man and a woman. Perhaps the kind of kiss a soldier gives a lover when he returns from war. It was honest, soft and yet urgent, a melding of their bodies in that one moment’s touch. His hands left her shoulders and traveled to her back, pulling her close against his body. Every contour of her form, every plaint softness was matched but the hard angles and rough strength of his form.

When the kiss came to its end he looked down into her eyes. “You don’t have to give up your dreams, Rihayne. I’d do whatever it takes to make you happy.”
 
Whatever she had expected, whatever she'd thought he'd say or do after her little outburst tantrum...it had not been that. He looked...fierce, but not in a frightening way but a breathtaking way. He'd brushed her tears away as if he knew he had the power to make everything alright, and she wished for a moment that he did. Soldiers were like that, she thought to herself numbly. They fight such battles and come home and think themselves immortal and invincible. Or they come home unutterably broken. She didn't know which Roguel fancied himself to be but he wasn't. He couldn't fix this for her, he couldn't change the kingdom, change the world, make her parents able to come home, make their king more compassionate and just. He couldn't do any of those things and it hurt a little to have him just brush away her tears like they were temporary, fleeting things that he would put to rights, like a conquering hero coming to save the day.

And then his hands were on her shoulders, his lips on hers, and she froze, uncomprehending. Had he...he had...he kissed her?? She didn't fight him or pull away, too shocked to do so. Her mind ran in a whirl, like a hound chasing a hare, and she couldn't think. His hands moved down to her back and she was against his chest. He was hard and strong, broad shoulders and broad chest and warm, so warm in a way that had nothing to do with the ovens in the bakery. And then the kiss was over and he was speaking to her. All she could do was stare at his mouth, her fingers coming up to touch her own lips.

"You..." And then the frozen shock was gone, replaced with humiliated fury. "How dare you! Do you...what, do you think that I'm the sort of girl who'd go about kissing and taking up with any man that showed a bit of interest? You just said I was like a cousin to you, and yesterday you spoke of me like a little sister you hadn't seen for a while! And now that I have a gentleman courting me that you don't approve of, you...you try to manipulate me like that? What sort of woman do you think I am?? Do you think so little of my sense of honor that...that you'd..." She stepped back, forcing herself into a semblance of composure. "I appreciate your concerns on my behalf but that is an extreme way to try and protect me from someone you think is disingenuous. It shows that you think very little of me as a grown woman and you assume a great deal about me to think that I'd be so fickle or so dishonest in my dealings with a man. Now, if you please, I have a good bit of work to do to get ready for the day. Thank you for your help, Roguel, but I think I will be able to handle my own woodcutting from here on."
 
That…was not what he had expected from her. It was better.

Roguel laughed.

“You are still a naïve, little child, Rihayne. As easily as I took that kiss from you the Duke will take your virtue. He will swoop in and make you believe in fairytales and fantasies, and when you are so deep in that belief that you cannot see your way out of him, he will be your undoing! Do you not think that in battles and death I haven’t seen into enough dying eyes to understand the nature of men? Rihayne! I care about your well-being more than anyone, sans your parents, and you think that you can dismiss me from your life?”

He stepped forward enough to match her step backwards. “I will give you a safe place, Rihayne, daughter of Vaerlorne and Semraye. I give you my oath that I will not step back into your shop until you invite me, but if you think that you can keep me from helping you in other ways you are mistaken. I swore to protect you on the day you were born and I shall keep that oath, even if it means you will hate me for it.”

He moved in again and took her face into his hands, brushing his lips across hers like a ray of sun. Then he was moving towards the door again. “Write to your father and mother, if you must. They will tell you that what I say is truth.” He strode out of the shop and let the door slam behind him.
 
Nothing that he said made sense. He seemed so much older and more frightening, some strange, ancient thing that looked at her with old, old eyes and spoke to her like a man who had seen more of human nature than ten years on a battlefield would explain away. He called her a naive child and for a moment, looking at that implacable, laughing face that found her indignation so amusing, she couldn't help but feel very much like a small child in comparison to him. She wasn't sure whether that frightened her or made her more angry, to be truthful. She listened to him, feeling herself bristle and stiffen as he spoke about her like a child to be protected, not at all like a grown woman. And she was. She was old enough to be a wife and mother herself, how dare he throw her parents up in her face. She started to look away, folding her arms obstinately...and then he kissed her again. It was the same sort of kiss, his lips light across her own but there was that tingle of something utterly mad and lovely that accompanied it and she hated that part worst of all. What sort of fickle, flighty woman was she, to be left breathless by a kiss from a man that, until the past few minutes, had shown no interest in her at all aside from her being her parents' daughter? And he was warning her about the Duke, who hadn't stolen not one but two kisses from her in the space of a few moments! Ha! As if he were the one she should be worrying about her virtue over!

She wasn't going to bother her mother and father with this. She was a woman grown and could handle her own affairs. The door snapped shut behind him as he left and she resisted the urge to pick up something large and breakable and fling it after him in a fit of pique. He as being such an unbelievable ass! Well, she wasn't going to let him cow her with cryptic words and kisses into being anything less than her own woman, for better or worse. Of course, Kline wasn't exactly sure what to think when he got to work that day and she was scrubbing the bakery like a woman possessed, muttering angrily under her breath, only stopping to acknowledge his tentative greeting to her with a wide smile and an expression of gratitude that a 'sensible young man' was finally in her shop. The bakery fairly sparkled; she had to burn off her energy somehow, after all. The tables had new linens, the racks of bread were full and the lunch and dinner items were already prepared and put aside on low heat to keep them hot for the crowds coming in. Obviously, when Rihayne was angry about something, she found a way to warp chore time around her. What a terrifying thought. And worse still was the fierce cheerfulness she forced to her face with a savagery that made her smile look more like a hungry lion's teeth. Ohh yes, Kline thought to himself, he should have certainly gone to those extra lessons today instead of coming to work.

Honestly, it just made the boy want to run from the store and go find Roguel and throw himself on the man's mercy. He wasn't so stupid as to think that this sudden spat of cleaning and industry and Rihayne's own comments under her breath about 'foolish, meddling men' was a direct result of anything other than the soldier that had come to work with them. Maybe if he slipped out during the lunch rush he could try and find the man and plead with him to help find an exorcist for his usually sweet tempered boss.
 
Roguel was beating himself up over the way he had handled his ward. She was naive and innocent beyond belief, but she was no longer a child. Of course she'd be offended at what he did! He was lucky that she didn't just deck him right there. He stacked wood and chopped it, taking out his frustrations on the stacks of dried tinder that laid haphazard behind the bakery.

In truth he wanted to destroy something. He wanted to reach out and squeeze Aimast's throat until the half-demon's eyes slid out of his sockets and his tongue swelled to a bulbous purple mess, but he could not. There was too much at stake, and Roguel doubted that the Inquisitor could be killed anyway. They were linked; one life intermingled with another as surely as their destinies were entwined, and the Red Mage could almost believe that the day the Inquisitor died would be his day of death as well.

He didn't have duties at the castle that morning, so he worked all the long hours through noon. Sometimes he could hear Rihayne's voice coming through the window or an open door and his heart clenched. He imagined her laying in the arms of Aimast, that blasted "Duke Liam", and he felt the anger and...jealousy?...swell in his chest again. Would he have felt the same way if it had been a butcher or blacksmith who courted Rihayne?

Roguel examined that idea for several frustrating minutes. Finally he simply sighed in defeat and began stacking the cut wood. He'd never really know the answer to that; she was being courted by the 'Duke', and that was the reality that they all faced.
 
It was midday before Kline got up the courage to take Master Roguel some lunch out, making very certain to do it while Mistress Rihayne, who was still on the warpath, wasn't looking. A large cup of beef stew and a thick, soft chunk of bread and cheese with a strong, hot tea was the young boy's peace offering, and he waited until Roguel had stopped his wood-chopping before coming over. "I don't know what you did, but she's in an evil temper. Can you...can you tell her your sorry?" He asked with the simplicity that only a child could really muster. He didn't like seeing Mistress Rihayne upset; it was a rare enough occurrence that it made everything around them feel...off. Stilted somehow. She'd seemed to really like the soldier yesterday when he was working with them; he didn't understand what could have happened to make her so upset now.

For her own part, the busy bustle of the store and the work it took to keep food replenished and fresh was enough to eventually burn out even her temper, and while she was very good at putting on a cheerful face for customers, she was't happy. She didn't understand his vitrol towards the Duke. Perhaps they had some history together that made him wary of the other man. Perhaps the Duke truly was a wicked man. At the same time however, the thought that he would...would feign interest in her, kiss her like that, just to keep her away from the Duke was...it made her stomach roil with anger. And his kisses were nothing if not convincing. He probably had half of the women in his hometown dying for love of him. He was too good at it, too practiced. The Duke was too, which was why no matter how swept up she might feel, she always kept one foot firmly planted on the ground. It was a game to both of them and she was the one getting played with.

She ought to send a message over to the Duke, inform him that she wouldn't be able to join him for lunch tomorrow. What had she been thinking anyway? It was probably only a lark for him, but she surprised herself with how that notion stung her. And Roguel...well, the hells take him and his kisses and his promises! She didn't need someone causing her so much bother while trying to protect her anyway! She'd gone along just fine on her own until now, and she'd continue to do so. Yes, that was the best option. She'd cancel her lunch with the Duke tomorrow, apologize for the trouble she caused and that would be that. Surely the old king would die one day and her parents could come home. She wouldn't be too old to start a life of her own then. Surely it couldn't be like this forever.
 
Roguel had to smile when he saw Kline coming out with some lunch. The lad's expression made it clear that all was not well inside. The mistress was not happy, and when that was the case then no one was happy! "I wish I could simply say I'm sorry," he answered, reaching for the cup of stew. It had a wonderful, thick look to it and the bread and cheese alone were enough to make a good lunch for any man. "Thank you," he said, taking a seat on the log. "I made a mistake with Rihayne and I don't think she's likely to forgive me anytime soon."

He gave the lad a lop-sidded grin when Kline frowned and scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion.

"I kind of hurt her feelings, son. And when a lady's feelings are hurt it sometimes takes more than an 'I'm sorry' to make it better."

"What did you do?" Kline wasn't eager to go back inside. He took a seat opposite he soldier and looked at him earnestly.

"Hmm...what did I do?" Roguel broke a piece of bread off the chunk and dipped it into the stew as he considered the ways that he could answer the question. He didn't like to lie; it was much better in his estimation to say nothing than to say something that was untrue. "Well, I insulted her in a way. I...kissed her, and she thinks that I was making fun of her or being frivolous." His voice softened for a moment as he thought over that morning and fully realized how hurt she might have felt.

Turning his attention back to the youngster he chuckled. "Don't worry; she won't be mad forever. I'm sure that by the time she goes to her lecture tomorrow, and perhaps on her lunch date with the dashing Duke Liam she'll be back to normal." He reached out and slid a silver piece into the lad's shirt pocket. "Just between you and me," he explained, winking.

Roguel was already thinking of tomorrow and the lecture, and his plans for making Rihayne happy again.
 
Kline glanced down at the silver piece that Roguel had slipped him and grinned a little, thanking the other man. "So...you kissed her and that made her mad? That's kind of strange. I thought girls like that kissing stuff. That's all the girls at the temple school talk about." He rolled his eyes as only a boy who'd not yet discovered the strange, mysterious allure of girls yet could. "I guess girls don't get any less silly as they get older. I hoped they would. They're no fun anymore. They never want to get their dresses dirty and got scared of bugs and lizards and mud. And now you're telling me that the kissing thing doesn't even go away." He looked thoroughly dejected as he started to eat his own lunch, a smaller version of Roguel's.

For her own part, Rihayne had mostly burned her temper out. She was still angry, but she wasn't fuming, which was at least an improvement. Was she being too sensitive? No, she didn't think so. After all, he'd all but said that she was a silly, flighty girl and that one man paying attention to her was no different than any other man paying attention to her and that was simply not true. Had Roguel expressed even the slightest bit of interest in her yesterday before the Duke had come, she'd not have thought twice of it, would have never ascribed such motive to him. But then when she returned home, he seemed simply upset that the Duke had been calling on her; not because he wanted to throw in his hat for her affections, mind you but because the Duke had done so and he was vocal in his disapproval of that. And then the next day he'd dredged it up once more, and after she'd snapped at him, only then had he kissed her. Given the flow of events, what else could she surmise, that he wanted to push her and the Duke apart by whatever means he had available to him?

She was concerned herself about the Duke's interest in her. She couldn't really imagine what might have brought her to his attention. He claimed to be a friend of her family, but why would he have been out of touch so long? Still, she couldn't really imagine any sinister motive he might have for insinuating himself into her life. She didn't have money or social standing or political power. She wasn't a great beauty or an heiress to any vast fortune. There was nothing that came to mind that made her the least bit remarkable and while that comforted her a bit (what did he have to gain for being so very solicitous and romantic), it also made her that much more nervous for the exact same reason. She sighed. Maybe she should try to mend fences with Roguel. But...ugh, the lout had handled that whole situation remarkably poorly. Maybe once she was done with the lunch customers. Maybe then she'd go talk to him.
 
Roguel had to chuckle at Kline's honesty. "Well, by the time you're ready to think of such things you'll find that kissing is not such a bad past time. After all, if it wasn't for kissing and all the things it leads to, you wouldn't be here." He smirked at the lad's reaction to the 'things it leads to' image. "The problem is that...I think your mistress is fond of someone else, and so when I kissed her it messed up the way she was thinking about things. Maybe." He shrugged as he finished his lunch. "I don't really understand women myself, and I'm really old."

He knew that Kline would think that the soldier meant twenty or thirty years old was 'really old', but Roguel meant decades of not understanding women stacked upon decades of not bothering to try to understand them. It almost was more trouble than it was worth for a man of his responsibilities. Still, Rihayne's family line was important to him. It was important to the world.

"You'd best get back to work, Kline, before you get banned from the store as well." He grinned at the lad. "I'm certain that Mistress Rihayne will be less angry now. Hopefully. Tell her that I stubbed my thumb or something; maybe she'll smile."
 
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