Perwyn (i)Mature

“What does she mean by that?” Artur asked, with all the blind arrogance of a noble adolescent.
                Lady Layla’s nostrils flared. “No more speaking for you. A good squire is seen, not heard— better yet not even seen. Walk behind us— ah, what did I say?”
                Artur had opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, instead fixing her with what would normally be a withering glare but with Lady Layla, served only to seem silly and juvenile.
                “Shoo, the men and women are speaking—no words from you either Perwyn, thank you very much. Words are just that.”
                They rounded a corner that led to the entrance hall, a spiral room of many floors and stairs, gilded in marble, gold, oak and archways with the enormous banners of the Tawnitons owl and many more tapestries and notable paintings adorning walls, ceiling, floors, doors and all. They found the Double doors open, the light embracing their arrival as they passed two guards to go down a flight of steps which led to a pathway surrounded by grass and hedges, and once past the fountain in the distance, a curving row of stately homes.
                Blocking the path however was Lord Aedrinm his arms folded.
                “Sir Perwyn, Lady Layla,” he nodded, watching them descend, his face a cool mask hinting at little.
                Perwyn nodded back.
                “Lord Aedrin, I thought I smelled a bastard. Speak quickly, I have better things to do than waste my time idly with longwinded chatter.” She sniffed.
                “As pleasant as ever. Fine, I shall come out with it plain. Your predilections are not my concern, what is however?” He let the question hang in silence.
                “”Go on, didn’t I say I wouldn’t waste my time?” She folded her own arms.
                “Your more foreign policies, shall we say.” He hinted. What have you involved yourself with this time, mother?
                Lady Layla snorted. “Entertain me then, tall tales are the more enjoyable kind I must confess.”
                “Hardly, you have been reaping in a score of mercenaries to your seat, not to mention my men have seen you with the rougher kind of foreign dignitary.” He raised an eyebrow at her frown, the first hints of a smile playing on his lips.
                “Have they?” Her hands moved to her hips as she rounded on him. “And what of your foreign policies, hm?”
                His brow furrowed at that, “I do not—“
                “You’re not half so clever as you think you are. No. You may have an Honour of Learning, High Sage, but I brought up a household of five children and that with a husband who thought the edge of his sword was the most important point in the world, and I still managed to maintain a position in the courts. I have spoken to your father, I was most interested to learn of the amount of time you spent around the world. What do you have to say to that?”

The End

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