"Trouble my dear Genevieve? Is the ghost of my cousin haunting you this night?" her lover queried upon her return to the bedroom. He sat up against the elongated sleeping couch, red satin pillows at his back. His wavy brown half bound hair was tucked behind his ears, revealing the tattoo, Antlers of the Rein, on the leftmost ear. Under the light padded blanket he rested, naked and at ease in a luxurious estate that far exceeded his own remote mountain abode in comparison.
"The matter is inconsequential. I have dealt with it. Please," she added with mock formality, "let us get back to the part where you were exploring the insides of my thighs." her face melted into a smile only half intended to evade his question. "I am interested in conducting some of my own research, you see."
As she slid onto the low standing pillowed couch, she exiled her robe to the floor in an effort distract the man lying in her bed. He obliged by pulling her hips onto the couch where he began to indulge her desires.
"I am looking forward to tomorrow, what ever your plans, my portentous little bee," he submitted in the breath between a long kiss, "You never fail to entertain."
She drew his head to her lips again briefly before replying, "Ha! And what am I to do with you now, my great stag?"
The question had passed through both of their thoughts on more than one occasion. The lord of House Archne lay slain, and his widow would take his mantle. But the best of dances were performed as duets as the orchestra rarely played for one. Even still, the lords and ladies of Eirdred would not look kindly upon the merging of power and money of two houses. Were the heads of two houses to wed, one would have to renounce their claims to their own house.
For her part, Ruby did not welcome another man in her daily life, even one subservient to her own whims. However a master of a house must be wed, and it was far easier a task to wed an ally than an enemy, or worse still, an unknown. The nobility would allow her a span of mourning time, perhaps 6 months, or a year even, if she could charm her enemies as allies alike. After that, the assassins would begin to rain down upon her. Enemies who feared her unilateral command over the House Archne would succumb to paranoia or opportunism and strike first. Allies would see her as bucking tradition and would question her dedication to a dance with no partner. Her servants would be compromised or their loyalties purchased; life would be a daily routine of hiding and outmaneuvering the ambitions of others.
But these were thoughts for another day. Lord Lot was not interested in discussing the matter and instead replied, "There are a great many things you can do with me, my lady," he pulled her closer to himself, "or that I can do with you this night."
A girlish giggle not heard since maidenhood escaped her lips, "This is why in all my heart, I adore you my lord."
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