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“You write?”
“Ethlyn?” Sigurd stops in the doorway, doubling back as his sister’s voice fills the hall.
The woman in question pokes her head out of her brother’s room, a smug look on her face as she leans against the wall. A piece of paper is pinched between two of her delicately gloved fingers, held aloft as if she were half-disgusted to touch it and was teasing the family dog into taking it from her. Sigurd’s already distracted attention is drawn to the little folded square instantly, and it takes him a moment to identify the paper, but when he does-
“Hey!”
She backsteps into the room as he lunges forwards, his shoes sliding on the hall carpet as he barrels towards her. She’s already opening it by the time he reaches her, but that doesn’t stop him from snatching the paper from her hand and stuffing it into his pocket like contraband, trying his best to look like the authority in this situation.
Ethlyn, as always, ignores his efforts.
“I didn’t realize you even knew how to write! Father will be overjoyed,” she teases. “And to a lady , as well.”
“Ethlyn-!” Sigurd tries, cutting himself off as his sister giggles into her hand. He turns towards his desk, shoving the rest of his papers into the drawers for good measure. “Why are you in my room? Why are you even here at all?”
“Visiting- after I’d heard about the trouble Lady Edain was having, I thought it best for me to return home for a time, for moral support, if nothing else. Quan is here too, of course, as is his apprentice. They should be around shortly; they wanted to take care of the carriage first, so I thought I’d try my best to get out of the sun.” She fans herself lazily with a hand, sighing dramatically. “I expected a kinder welcome, but I suppose some things just don’t change…”
“Yes, well, I expect that you’d have the manners to not go through my things when my back is turned, yet here we are,” Sigurd mumbles, shutting the drawer with a frown.
“Oh, but I was just so curious! If you wanted to keep it a secret, then you shouldn’t have left it out on the desk for all to see.”
“The ink was drying!”
“Excuses, excuses.” Ethlyn sighs, meandering over to the door and closing it before leaning against the frame. “You needn't be so upset about it. I read only the name of the recipient- I wouldn’t pry that far into your business.”
Sigurd frowns. She’s blocking the exit, which means that despite her attempt at playing nice, she’s not done. No matter how lady-like marriage and motherhood have made her, her childish side is alive and well.
“Why,” she continues, eyebrows raising as her voice lowers. “Was the letter… unbecoming ?”
“No! It was just… private.”
“A private letter to a lady… does father know?”
“N-not yet…”
Ethlyn gasps, a scandalized hand over her mouth. “Oh, he’s not finally forced you to consider marriage yet? You’re speaking to a woman… of your own accord ?”
“Why is that such a surprise?” Sigurd exclaims. “I speak with women all the time! Edain-”
“Edain is quite literally a nun, Sigurd,” Ethlyn starts. “Speaking with nuns doesn’t count.”
“What about-”
“The time you nearly broke Lady Ayra’s foot while hunting doesn’t count either.”
Sigurd flinches. Ethlyn puts a hand on her chin in thought.
“Though, I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone named Deirdre before… What’s her surname?”
“I… uh…” Sigurd trails off, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I don’t know.”
Ethlyn lets out a breathy laugh in disbelief. “How can you not know? What house does she belong to?”
“... I don’t know that either.”
The princess giggles, bemused by her brother’s shifty expression. “Where did you meet this woman, in the middle of the woods? How do you not know the most basic pieces of information about her?”
There’s silence between them for a moment. Sigurd continues casting his eyes to the walls, avoiding Ethlyn’s stare as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his riding coat.
“Why aren’t you arguing with me?” Ethlyn whispers, eyes squinting. “Did you… did you actually meet a woman in the middle of the woods?”
“It wasn’t the middle of the woods,” Sigurd argues. “It was close to town. Well within the area where one could reasonably expect to find a woman.”
Ethlyn’s words fail her, but her expression says it all.
“It’s not like I found her wandering around in the bog,” Sigurd explains as Ethlyn pushes away from the door, a hand on her forehead. “She was going for a walk, we happened to pass each other on the path, we spoke for a bit and I found she was…” he hesitates for a moment, “most agreeable.”
“You… you didn’t even think to ask her name?”
“I did! It’s Deirdre.”
Ethlyn blinks at him. “Do you even know where she lives?”
Sigurd shrugs. “She told me to simply address letters to her, and the courier would know where to take them. She wouldn’t tell me where she lives.”
Ethlyn laughs again, eyes wide. “You’re-! That’s-! You are completely insane!”
“I am not!”
“Does none of that strike you as odd ?”
“I mean,” Sigurd shrugs, “perhaps a bit, but we’re all entitled to a bit of privacy, I like to think…”
Ethlyn cuts him off with a firm wave of her hand. “There’s privacy, and then there’s lunacy. A strange woman, who’s probably a commoner, by the way, refuses to tell you anything about herself, and yet you insist on sending her letters? How can you expect to court someone you barely know?”
“Who said anything about courting? We’re just talking.”
Ethlyn rolls her eyes a bit. “Alright, maybe I did read a bit further than the addressing line.”
“Ethlyn!”
The sound of footsteps outside pauses their argument as the doorknob begins to spin. Ethlyn sidesteps into the middle of the room as a large man with greying hair moves into the space, taking up much of the doorway as he catches sight of the pair before him. Lord Byron sighs, observing his children.
“I thought I heard the sound of arguing- and with Prince Quan wandering around in the stables… Who else could it be?” He holds out a hand, and Ethlyn takes it as she allows herself to be swept into a hug.
“Father! It’s been too long, I was just about to come find you!”
“Yes, my dear- but what was all of that shouting? What could you two possibly be arguing about so soon after your arrival?”
Ethlyn smiles, all traces of her former incredulous state drowned under the façade of a delicate lady of the courts. “Nothing you need to worry about, Father. All is well. Now, why don’t we have some tea? I’m ever so famished from the carriage ride here, after all…”
Byron leads her to the hall, and as she allows herself to be swept away, she casts one firm look back at her brother, her pointed glare clearly stating that they would be having further discussions about strange forest women later. Sigurd sighs once they disappear, hand wrapped around the now crumpled note in his pocket.
Ethlyn always has the best intentions, and she looked out for her family, but… she hadn’t met Deirdre. Even in the little time they’d spoken, Sigurd could tell that she was a kind, compassionate woman, not to mention beautiful. So what if she was wary of giving away her private information? Besides, it wasn’t like he was planning on doing anything illicit . They were just exchanging letters- he hadn’t gone as far as to propose to her right there in the woods.
No, that would have been foolish.
He takes the ring out of his pocket, sliding it into his desk drawer along with the rest of his papers.
Very foolish indeed.