Braydon returned to Cliforge on the expected day, making it almost half way into November. It had been getting colder over the past week, but because Fiveria was in the south it had not been all that noticeable. This was not quite the case in the castle, however, as it was situated in a mountain pass. It was rather higher than the surrounding terrain. It was a great defensive position but it was far colder up here than on the low ground.
Although it was like this, Braydon was glad that it was only very cold up in the castle. If he had to deal with freezing, starving vagrants instead of just starving ones, he did not know how he would cope. Instead the thing that was causing him headaches was that since he had gotten back, Gerald had opened his mouth. More specifically he had run to tell his drinking buddy and anyone who would listen about the King’s misunderstanding. Of course he had expertly avoided the two people in question. This left Braydon in a spot of trouble. Nela would invariably have heard of the story by now, whether by proxy or by capturing the chatterbox.
How was he supposed to look her in the eyes. More importantly, how was she going to torment him for this. Braydon was trying to go through reports written by Colin on the progress of building housing for his new subjects. It was not working, the headache he had combined with how dull reading administrative reports were not conducive for his work.
“Steven, cut all of Gerald’s access to alcohol for the rest of the week. The little sod deserves at least this.” Braydon had decided to take his frustration out on Gerald, after all he was the one who had spread the story around the castle.
“Of course, Sire.” Steven wondered how petty and childish Braydon and Gerald could get, this was obviously not their limit.
“Well, I am not getting anything done here. Where did I keep my alcohol?” Braydon got up and decided to go see what the kitchens had. Steven just stared at this, unimpressed before silently following behind him. He was right, this was obviously not their limit.
“…”
As Braydon was walking towards the kitchen, he heard a voice that made him freeze in place. Of all people he did not want to face her right now but the world had different ideas. That and she had quite possibly sought him out, it was not hard to find the lord in his own castle. Every servant was very observant of him, it was their job after all.
“Braydon, it is great to see you again. You didn’t come to see us since you returned from your trip to the capital.” Nela had caught him, there was nowhere to run now. ‘Us.’ That meant that Mireille was there too. It was not unexpected that she was with Nela but he did not want her to see his great embarrassment at the situation any more than he already did. As he turned around he found Nela sweetly smiling at him, which normally would have given him shivers if not for the death glare he was getting from Mireille.
“Forgive me, I was trying to catch up with what had happened in my absence.” A flimsy excuse and he knew it. He had been trying to avoid her since he saw Gerald’s gleeful face when they got down from the carriage. He had instantly known what was going to happen.
“But you could have come to ask me, you did leave me and Rhydian in charge during your absence. And I already asked, you haven’t seen Rhydian about this since returning either.” With that she had him cornered, he didn’t know how to respond. And Nela was more than willing to let him squirm, just looking at him silently with her frightening smile.
“Have you errr… Have you spoken to Gerald since he returned?” ‘Really smooth there.’ He almost hit himself after hearing the question he asked. It would only dig him a deeper hole, and Nela was not one to refrain from pushing him in.
“No, I haven’t seen him either. Was there something important that I should know?” Nela knew full well what he was talking about. But it would be no fun if she was the one to say it.
“Well…”
“Braydon can’t marry!” Before he could speak Mireille blurted out in a panic. The death glare that she had been giving having turned into one of desperation and confusion.
“…” he was speechless. He had thought she was glaring at him for the possibility of taking away her precious Nela, but apparently he was mistaken. ‘What is that supposed to mean!?’
“We haven’t spoken to him but have heard rumours going around the castle that the King had offered to mediate with my father for my hand.” Nela saw that she would not be getting any more fun out of this. So she decided to start properly before Mireille could embarrass herself more. The girl in question had a beet red face after realising what she had just said.
“That is not the full story!” Braydon almost shouted, still amazed at having seen more than one expression from Mireille and more than distracted by her current one. What he did note, however, was how scary the rumour mill could be. ‘Let’s extend Gerald’s alcohol ban to two weeks.’
“Then care to explain.”
“The King misunderstood when…” After fully explaining what had actually happened, Braydon let out a sigh of relief, glad that it was over with. Mireille letting out a similar sigh for entirely different reasons. Nela on the other hand was highly amused by it all.
“Hahaha.”
“You can find it funny now, but I almost leapt when the King said that.” He only got more laughs in response, having forgotten who he was speaking to. This woman just enjoyed the chaos. When her laughter died down, she asked the important question.
“So how are you punishing him?”
“No alcohol for two weeks.”
“Make it four.”
“Done.
“…” Steven had given up caring. They were all as bad as each other.
As Braydon entered the kitchen after his conversation was over, he noticed something. He turned around but the ladies were already gone, so he asked Steven instead. To which Steven just looked even more fed up with life. ‘How can one man be so unobservant?”
“Was Mireille actually jealous?”
