((Warning - contains references to torture.))
Gossip spread through the court of Loscar faster than the most virulent plague. Never mind that the court had witnessed the freeing of two Arctran slaves; never mind that they had all been made aware that of those two slaves, one would never recover and the other was not to be trifled with. By the queen's order, all courtesy was to be given to the newly named Loren, who had been made a ward of the First Blade, Gerard de Winter, and every effort had been made to discover if she had any family remaining in the land. That effort had paid off, it seemed, for one nobleman in particular laid a petition at the queen's feet for permission to meet Loren.
Baron Gaspard du Lion believed that the freed slave was his own daughter, stolen by Skarran raiders before she reached her fourth year, and could describe the birthmark that decorated her shoulderblade with unerring accuracy. It was a convincing argument and, eager to restore the young woman to the family she had never known, Ariana had granted him permission to meet Loren. Unfortunately, Loren was not as confident about meeting him, which was how Gerard found himself face to face with the older man, while the young woman hid behind him, apparently trying to pretend none of this was happening.
Gerard, too, had found himself in a position he had not anticipated, expected, or even striven for, but he trusted in the guidance and judgment of the Nine, and now that he was First Blade, he hoped to use his position of influence for the good of the queendom and the people, and not for ill. He wasn't sure how he felt about the search for Loren's family, but if this man turned out to truly be her father, he would do nothing to stand in his way, even if it meant losing the young woman he had slowly become attached to.
Baron Gaspard frowned, tilting his head to try and get a good look at the young woman hiding from his gaze. "Uriah, please," he pleaded with her, using the name she had been given at birth - a name she did not recognize as her own. "At least let me look at you."
Behind Gerard, Loren shook her head violently, her hand grasping the back of his tunic in a tight grasp. "She is not Uriah."
Unintentionally shielding Loren from her father, protective in his stance without even realizing it, Gerard stilled her denial with an uplifted and gloved hand, serving as mediator between father and daughter. "She does not remember her birth name and has chosen to be called Loren," he explained to the man with that soft-spoken but gravelly voice that left little room for argument. Thankfully, he hadn't cringed at the sound of her birthname, though in his opinion, it didn't fit her.
"Loren?" Baron Gaspard looked horrified. "You named my daughter in that filthy nomad tongue?"
A small hand slithered between Gerard's side and arm, pointing an accusatory finger at the nobleman. "They are cleaner than she was," Loren insisted, her voice muffled against Gerard's back. "She was Silence until she was Loren. Until he cleaned her."
"He ..." The baron's expression turned dangerous as he looked Gerard in the eye. "What have you been doing to my daughter, First Blade?"
Gerard's hand almost fell to rest upon the hilt of his sword, but sensing the man's ire, it didn't quite get there. Nobleman or not, he doubted the man would dare challenge him here in a place where Gerard and not Baron Gaspard occupied a place of importance and honor. "I can assure you my intentions and actions involving your daughter have been honorable ones. I have taken her under my protection as my ward and treated her with nothing but kindness and respect. I do not only vow this as a man, but as First Blade of Arctra."
"Not his," a small voice argued from Gerard's back, not doing much to help his argument. "She does not know him. Yours. She trusts you."
Gaspard's expression grew cold as he considered this. "As your father, Uriah, it is my place to decide to whom you will belong," he said harshly. "Since you cannot be trusted to know even the most basic tenants of propriety, there is only one option left to me. You will enter the service of the Temple. No thug with a title is going to deflower you because you have some meaningless obsession with him."
That pointing hand curled into a fist. "No flowers left. You are a bad man, like her master was!"
"I beg your pardon, my lord, but I am no thug. I am the First Blade of Arctra, in service to Queen Ariana. If you truly care for your daughter's well being, I would strongly suggest you listen to her wishes. She clearly does not wish to enter the Temple, and as her legal guardian, I must insist her wishes be given due consideration," Gerard insisted, his hand now falling to the hilt of his blade, subtly making a point.
"You are her legal guardian in lieu of her blood kin," Gaspard argued. "I am her father, proven by blood, and you have no further say in this matter. Either she enters the Temple, or you can marry her for all I care, but I will not have my family name disgraced by an ungrateful little idiot who can't even recognize the duty she owes to her blood!"
Gerard was not a man easily given to anger, but this man who claimed to be Loren's father was slowly raising his ire. There was no way he was going to allow anyone to ever hurt her again or force her into a situation where she might be taken advantage of. The man had inadvertently posed a solution to the problem, and though Gerard wasn't sure she would agree to marry him, it was at least the surest way of keeping her safe. "Then I will marry her, as you suggest," Gerard replied, maintaining his position between father and daughter.
Gaspard reared back, surprised to hear those words spoken so calmly. He groped for a way to take control, however, unused to being outwitted by a slave and her keeper. "Then I will take her to the du Lion manor in the city until the date of your travesty," he said harshly. "Until she bears your name, her behavior reflects upon me."
"She will not go with you," Loren muttered from Gerard's back, both hands now clinging to his sides. "She will not."
"You will do as you are told," Gaspard growled, and though he could not see it, the tone was too threatening for Loren not to react. Only Gerard could possibly recognize the way she softened and grew absolutely silent, fighting to contain her shaking in the face of a temper that would not think twice about hurting her.
Stuck between a stubborn and possibly abusive father and a daughter who was clearly terrified of him, Gerard had little choice but to take action and make a decision that would change both their lives but would effectively keep her safe, not only from her father but from anyone who might try to hurt her. "Very well, then. I will marry her today. Right this very moment, if necessary, but she is not going to the temple or to your manor in the city. I will take all responsibility for her as her husband and her protector, relieving you of your duty as her father," Gerard told the man, completely unruffled by the man's fury, or so it appeared.
Denied the opportunity even to stripe the young woman's back for her defiance, Gaspard du Lion clenched his jaw, straightening his back. "I do not approve, but it is a fair response," he conceded. "You will accompany me to the Temple now. I assume she is capable of walking?" Refused his blood rights, and denied the opportunities of having a daughter of marriageable age, she was no longer even worth using a name for, it seemed.
Gossip spread through the court of Loscar faster than the most virulent plague. Never mind that the court had witnessed the freeing of two Arctran slaves; never mind that they had all been made aware that of those two slaves, one would never recover and the other was not to be trifled with. By the queen's order, all courtesy was to be given to the newly named Loren, who had been made a ward of the First Blade, Gerard de Winter, and every effort had been made to discover if she had any family remaining in the land. That effort had paid off, it seemed, for one nobleman in particular laid a petition at the queen's feet for permission to meet Loren.
Baron Gaspard du Lion believed that the freed slave was his own daughter, stolen by Skarran raiders before she reached her fourth year, and could describe the birthmark that decorated her shoulderblade with unerring accuracy. It was a convincing argument and, eager to restore the young woman to the family she had never known, Ariana had granted him permission to meet Loren. Unfortunately, Loren was not as confident about meeting him, which was how Gerard found himself face to face with the older man, while the young woman hid behind him, apparently trying to pretend none of this was happening.
Gerard, too, had found himself in a position he had not anticipated, expected, or even striven for, but he trusted in the guidance and judgment of the Nine, and now that he was First Blade, he hoped to use his position of influence for the good of the queendom and the people, and not for ill. He wasn't sure how he felt about the search for Loren's family, but if this man turned out to truly be her father, he would do nothing to stand in his way, even if it meant losing the young woman he had slowly become attached to.
Baron Gaspard frowned, tilting his head to try and get a good look at the young woman hiding from his gaze. "Uriah, please," he pleaded with her, using the name she had been given at birth - a name she did not recognize as her own. "At least let me look at you."
Behind Gerard, Loren shook her head violently, her hand grasping the back of his tunic in a tight grasp. "She is not Uriah."
Unintentionally shielding Loren from her father, protective in his stance without even realizing it, Gerard stilled her denial with an uplifted and gloved hand, serving as mediator between father and daughter. "She does not remember her birth name and has chosen to be called Loren," he explained to the man with that soft-spoken but gravelly voice that left little room for argument. Thankfully, he hadn't cringed at the sound of her birthname, though in his opinion, it didn't fit her.
"Loren?" Baron Gaspard looked horrified. "You named my daughter in that filthy nomad tongue?"
A small hand slithered between Gerard's side and arm, pointing an accusatory finger at the nobleman. "They are cleaner than she was," Loren insisted, her voice muffled against Gerard's back. "She was Silence until she was Loren. Until he cleaned her."
"He ..." The baron's expression turned dangerous as he looked Gerard in the eye. "What have you been doing to my daughter, First Blade?"
Gerard's hand almost fell to rest upon the hilt of his sword, but sensing the man's ire, it didn't quite get there. Nobleman or not, he doubted the man would dare challenge him here in a place where Gerard and not Baron Gaspard occupied a place of importance and honor. "I can assure you my intentions and actions involving your daughter have been honorable ones. I have taken her under my protection as my ward and treated her with nothing but kindness and respect. I do not only vow this as a man, but as First Blade of Arctra."
"Not his," a small voice argued from Gerard's back, not doing much to help his argument. "She does not know him. Yours. She trusts you."
Gaspard's expression grew cold as he considered this. "As your father, Uriah, it is my place to decide to whom you will belong," he said harshly. "Since you cannot be trusted to know even the most basic tenants of propriety, there is only one option left to me. You will enter the service of the Temple. No thug with a title is going to deflower you because you have some meaningless obsession with him."
That pointing hand curled into a fist. "No flowers left. You are a bad man, like her master was!"
"I beg your pardon, my lord, but I am no thug. I am the First Blade of Arctra, in service to Queen Ariana. If you truly care for your daughter's well being, I would strongly suggest you listen to her wishes. She clearly does not wish to enter the Temple, and as her legal guardian, I must insist her wishes be given due consideration," Gerard insisted, his hand now falling to the hilt of his blade, subtly making a point.
"You are her legal guardian in lieu of her blood kin," Gaspard argued. "I am her father, proven by blood, and you have no further say in this matter. Either she enters the Temple, or you can marry her for all I care, but I will not have my family name disgraced by an ungrateful little idiot who can't even recognize the duty she owes to her blood!"
Gerard was not a man easily given to anger, but this man who claimed to be Loren's father was slowly raising his ire. There was no way he was going to allow anyone to ever hurt her again or force her into a situation where she might be taken advantage of. The man had inadvertently posed a solution to the problem, and though Gerard wasn't sure she would agree to marry him, it was at least the surest way of keeping her safe. "Then I will marry her, as you suggest," Gerard replied, maintaining his position between father and daughter.
Gaspard reared back, surprised to hear those words spoken so calmly. He groped for a way to take control, however, unused to being outwitted by a slave and her keeper. "Then I will take her to the du Lion manor in the city until the date of your travesty," he said harshly. "Until she bears your name, her behavior reflects upon me."
"She will not go with you," Loren muttered from Gerard's back, both hands now clinging to his sides. "She will not."
"You will do as you are told," Gaspard growled, and though he could not see it, the tone was too threatening for Loren not to react. Only Gerard could possibly recognize the way she softened and grew absolutely silent, fighting to contain her shaking in the face of a temper that would not think twice about hurting her.
Stuck between a stubborn and possibly abusive father and a daughter who was clearly terrified of him, Gerard had little choice but to take action and make a decision that would change both their lives but would effectively keep her safe, not only from her father but from anyone who might try to hurt her. "Very well, then. I will marry her today. Right this very moment, if necessary, but she is not going to the temple or to your manor in the city. I will take all responsibility for her as her husband and her protector, relieving you of your duty as her father," Gerard told the man, completely unruffled by the man's fury, or so it appeared.
Denied the opportunity even to stripe the young woman's back for her defiance, Gaspard du Lion clenched his jaw, straightening his back. "I do not approve, but it is a fair response," he conceded. "You will accompany me to the Temple now. I assume she is capable of walking?" Refused his blood rights, and denied the opportunities of having a daughter of marriageable age, she was no longer even worth using a name for, it seemed.