Dreven City; Winter 1259

Practice on me. It had been months since that first realization that the training of a courtesan involved as much physical contact as theory, but those months had not been wasted by the innocent pair of lovers. Duncan had not been able to bear the thought of Mara touching another man, even in practice, and had proposed the daring alternative of himself as her canvas to work upon. It had taken weeks of wheedling and pleading with Elise to bring that proposal to fruition, but before Yearspass, the woman had agreed to allow it, provided they were careful not to bring those lessons to the knowledge of Duncan's class or family. As one year became the next, Mara began her instruction again, this time learning intimately her best friend and how to please him, and if at times it was awkward to have Elise there, murmuring instructions, it was better than being forced to touch and learn a stranger at her fingertips.

Such lessons were often at night, or in the earliest part of the morning, times when the nobility were not around to see the indiscretion, when no one was likely to catch the Mallory heir sneaking in and out of a young courtesan's apartments. With her best friend at her fingertips, Mara learned quickly, and Elise soon lost her disapproval of the young master who held such charms over her golden-haired charge's heart. She didn't approve of the liaison between them, but she no longer worked to keep them apart, bowing to the inevitability of young love.

A crisp morning in the depths of winter found the end of one such lesson, and Elise's voice breaking into a moment that had become too intimate for mere rehearsal. "If you two have finished canoodling together," she said sharply, though there was a smile in her voice as Mara cast her a guilty smirk. "Master Duncan, you must go before the morning truly begins. And you, little miss, have the music master to visit today."

Duncan was happy with their arrangement, at least for now, satisfied to be the object of the attentions Mara was being forced to bestow on him as she learned her craft. It was a little frustrating for him physically, but as a matter of course, he was also learning by way of experience what pleased her. Little nuances of courtship and of wooing a woman that would come to serve him well later. He learned what made her pulse quicken, what made her breath catch, what left her trembling and weak in his arms, but mostly the lessons were about pleasing him. Unlike other young men his age, he was always a perfect gentleman when in her company, not only for her sake but for Elise's. He had learned early on that if he could win Elise's approval, then the rest would be easy.

Duncan laughed at Elise's reproach, amused by her attempted scolding, when he sensed she had grown as fond of him as he had of her since she had reluctantly agreed to their little arrangement. It was dangerous, yes, but he was willing to accept the risk, and the irony wasn't lost on him that if everything went according to plan, Mara would be his wife before she ever needed to rely on her training to support herself, but for now, that was their secret. Duncan flourished Elise with a bow as he arose from the settee, practicing his own charms on the older woman and her charge. "It has been a pleasure as always, Madame," he told Elise, with a sly wink and smirk at Mara. Fortunately for him, the tunic he was wearing was long enough to cover the day's frustrations.

Elise's eyes narrowed as Mara giggled at the flourishing bow, though the older woman was smiling as she, too, rose to her feet. "You, sir, are fast becoming a silver-tongued rogue," she informed him in amusement. "Say your goodbyes. I'll see your horse is brought to the door." She nodded to the pair of them, shaking her head with a low chuckle as she swept from the room, closing the door behind her.

As the door shut, Mara burst out laughing, rising herself to wrap her arms around Duncan's neck and embrace him warmly. "I wish you could stay," she murmured. Over the months, she was truly coming into her own, the curves so newly arrived when they had shared their first kiss blossoming, and with them, her sense of adulthood beginning to loom. But still she saved her kisses, and her touch, for Duncan alone, albeit in the company of her guardian.

He laughed at Elise's response to him. He always felt happy when he was in their company, as though he had become part of the family. In truth, his own family life was dismal, and the warmth he felt from Elise - as much as the woman might try to hide it - was more affection than he could ever hope to receive from his own flesh and blood. His laughter softened into a smile as Mara wrapped her arms around him and bemoaned his leaving, as she did each and every time they had to part. "Someday soon, we won't have to say good-bye," he told her quietly, for her ears alone and not for those of her nursemaid, guardian, and tutor who might have other plans for her charge. "I promise," he whispered in her ear and brushed a chaste but fond kiss against her cheek. He had grown bolder and more sure of himself with these little visits and sure of her love and devotion to him and him alone.

"Someday soon, you'll be allowed to do more than look when I take my clothes off," she teased in reply, leaning into him, tilting her head back to lavish a kiss decidedly less chaste to his lips in answer, offering up her smile for him to taste before he had to go. She was always reluctant to let him go, and unknown to him, a nightmare of petulance and ill-discipline in the hours after his leaving, yet Elise had never once said he should stop coming. She could see the love between the younger pair, and though she knew it could not be allowed to last, still she let it go on as long as it could. They deserved a little happiness together before it was taken away from them.

"I dream of that day, as I dream of you," he replied, returning her kiss with equal ardor. Elise was right - he was slowly becoming a silver-tongued charmer, and girls closer to his station were starting to take notice of his good looks and charm. It certainly didn't hurt that his family was wealthy, but he showed little interest in other girls, as his heart belonged to the only one who'd been forbidden. He was reluctant, as always, to take her leave, and he looked forward with eagerness to each visit, whether it be here under Elise's watchful eye or in secret.

Wrapped up in his kiss, Mara was only vaguely aware of voices in the passageway beyond, of Elise's voice rising as though in warning. "- sir, she is not receiving any visitors today, you can't go in -" The door, however, was opened with a flourish, and a voice she'd hoped she would never hear in Duncan's presence again interrupted the gentle passion of their leavetaking with an incredulous, furious snarl. "So you are Mallory's little whore after all, Mara."

With a gasp of shock, not least because of the insult he had given her, she pulled away from Duncan and turned to face the intruder. Stefan Del Sol, nineteen years old, and almost as red as a beetroot in his anger.

Duncan would know that voice anywhere - that of his chief rival, not only for Mara's affections, but for everything in his life, it seemed. The hostility between the Mallorys and Del Sols went back farther than anyone could remember. No one remembered any more what had caused it and it no longer mattered. Such traditions were hard to break once they were part of a bloodline, and neither family patriarch had made any attempt to make peace with the other. Duncan, for his part, had no idea why Stefan hated him so, other than for the hatred that had been instilled in him for all things Mallory since the day he'd been born.

As far as Stefan was concerned, the fact that Mara held Duncan in his favor only added insult to injury. Duncan turned slowly, purposely placing himself between Mara and the older, taller boy who was closer to becoming a man, but had much more to learn about self-control and good manners. Duncan's eyes narrowed at the insult, rising to champion and defend the girl that he loved without thought for his own safety or consideration for the repercussions of his actions. "Take that back and apologize to the lady," he told him, gray eyes flashing a warning.

Behind Stefan, Elise caught Mara's eye before the girl could open her mouth to interject, understanding more of the tension between the young men than Mara did herself. If she interrupted now, she would be hurt, even without intention, and for once, Mara did as her guardian advised, shutting her mouth as Duncan stepped in front of her.

Stefan watched the younger pair with an ugly snarl on his lips. There was not just anger in his face, but hatred too, and hurt that was leveled at the golden-haired girl who quailed under his glare. He ignored Duncan a moment longer, his eyes fixed on Mara. "You said no one had had you," he said in a heavy tone, malice highlighting the anger in him. "You told me all your time was given to lessons and study. And here I find you, in the arms of this ....this boy." He gestured derisively toward his bitter rival, someone he hated at the deepest level of his being for little reason. Someone he hated even more now he had seen how very much Mara Devine favored him. "He can't give you even half of what I can. I have been so patient, and you have been whoring behind my back!"

Hard enough to knock the sense out of him for a long moment, leaving the older boy sagging to the dust in the street as his head rang with those dangerous words spat at him so possessively. I am going to make her my wife. "No ....no, you're not!" A clumsy arm swung wide, the fist not tight enough to do more than glance off Duncan's shoulder without much pain. Stefan was already losing, and they both knew the humiliation would do more damage than any injury he received.

But Duncan was not his father. He was not cruel and unfeeling, hard and unforgiving, even as much as he detested Stefan. He saw that he'd already beaten him, that the other boy was dazed and had lost his advantage. Duncan could have, at that moment, chosen to beat the tar out of the older boy, but nothing good would have come of it. He had made his point. He had showed him that he was not weak or a coward, that he was more than willing to stand up for what he believed in and fight to defend the honor of someone who meant more to him than life itself. He wiped a sleeve across his nose and backed away, leaving the other boy half-dazed on the ground, bruised, and humiliated, and then Duncan did something completely unexpected but honorable. He reached for Stefan's hand and pulled him to his feet.

Still dazed, Stefan didn't fight as he was pulled up onto his feet, but that offer of mercy was not received with gratitude. He came up with his dagger in his hand, found in the dust where he had fallen, and if it hadn't been for the ringing in his head, Duncan might well have been in serious trouble. As it was, his slash was too slow, and an older man who had been watching them darted forward to catch Stefan's arm before the blade had a chance to land, disarming him and throwing the reeling, vengeance-seeking rival back to the ground.

Duncan's eyes widened, stunned that his act of mercy and honor would be returned with such blatant and abject hatred. He backed away from the blade, unable to do much to defend himself with just his bare hands, but before he was able to react in any way, a bystander had intervened, putting a halt to the fight with very little effort. It wasn't until that very moment that Duncan realized a small crowd had gathered and he paled, fearing what would happen when his father was informed of what had happened. He guessed he'd either be proud of him for defeating his rival or angry that he'd brought shame upon the family with a publicly-witnessed fist fight, but the thing he feared most was him finding out it had all been about a girl and that girl was one he'd been forbidden to see.

Stefan lay where he had been pushed for a long moment, furious not only that he had been beaten, but that a commoner had laid hands on him to prevent his evening the score. He pushed himself to his feet, wiping his sleeve over his lip, his cold eyes vicious as he sought out that bystander, committing the face to memory. His gaze then turned to Duncan, and for a long moment, he simply glared, promising horrors worse than death with that look, gathering spittle in his mouth to cast at the younger boy in disgust. "You'll regret today," he promised darkly, snatching his blade from the ground where it had fallen as he stalked away, shoving through the gathered people. You and that little bitch.

Duncan gave a respectful and grateful nod to the bystander who had risked his own safety to save him from a misplaced dagger. Duncan turned his gaze back to Stefan, regarding him warily, realizing perhaps for the first time what a dangerous enemy he'd made. If he'd been an honorable opponent, Duncan would not have worried so much, but the fact that he now knew for certain that he couldn't trust Stefan gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had a feeling he would have to be on his guard now and double his efforts to quicken the plans he and Mara had decided on. He watched as the older boy retreated, feeling no rush of pride or triumph or glory, only cold dread. Was there any other way he could have handled it' He wasn't sure. It seemed likely this confrontation was going to happen sooner or later. He said nothing in return. There was nothing left to say, but bend to retrieve his dagger and return it to its place at his waist.

But when their true confrontation came, it would be on Stefan's terms, with guile and cruel deception, and channeled through the most unlikely quarter. Duncan had made a dangerous enemy, purely by being the honorable, good man he was destined to become. In other circumstances, he and Stefan might have been friends. In these, and after today ....there was nothing they could ever be but the bitterest of enemies. The best intentions in the world could not stop what was coming now, for Duncan or his plans.

((And here we find where it all started to go wrong. But how, I hear you cry, did we get from here to the events of The Gilded Cage? Well, I say, keep your eyes open for the rest of the backstory as it is played out! :grin: Fulsome thank yous to the Duncan-meister!))