Back to normality

[Edmund Du Nord]

It was a very unremarkable day, cloudy with the threat of rain. The wind moved through the forests and across the grasslands, bringing no ill omens or stories of tragedy.
But a young Duke and a dozen knights rode across Fexlund from the west, travelling steadily back to the DeWinter estate. They travelled with a lot less haste than they had this time last week. Indeed, they moved slower than necessary, as though reluctant to return to normal life and meet the consequences for their actions. Not that things could have gone any differently. Duke Du Nord had time to go over every desicion, every twist of fate that had been laid before them - he would have done no differently than he had. All he could do was thank the gods that they were returning at all; he hated himself for leading such loyal men into a morally questionable and life-threatening affair. And thank the gods that the Caras family were preserved, if a little roughened physically and emotionally.
The road became more familiar as they got closer and closer to home, and people started to stop and stare as their Duke rode past in silence (not that that was such a shocking change of personality). And eventually the track wove up to the DeWinter estate. Edmund looked up at the beautiful building that was his home with worried eyes. It was bad enough going through the last week, now he was going to have to relive it as he told his wife. And he would tell her everything. He had to. No more keeping secrets. There was no point in keeping secrets now anyway, the main source of darkness in his life, his mother, was gone. And her Black Court would doubtless crumble with her.
Edmund and his men rode up to the estate, the gates opened for them without question. And they continued up to the courtyard. Grooms came out at the sound of hooves, to relieve Edmund and the knights of their horses. And the doors opened, an ever ready servant coming out to hear the Duke's requests.
"Have a hot bath drawn, and I shall take my meal in my quarters today."
He muttered, wanting to spend as little time as possible in the company of others. He moved past him into the house, struggling to unclip his cloak.

[Cassandra Du Nord]

Servants were at the ready once the young master came up the drive. Grooms came out of the stables and walked up to the tired horses and took the bridles as the men dismounted. The first servant to take their requests nodded to his master and scurried off to do his bidding. Once other servants in the house had caught sight of the men from the drive, one of them went to alert the Lady of the house.

Cassandra was in the study, scratch paper everywhere as she tried to meticulously carry out the budget. There were deductions here, income there, tax money that needed to be paid to the capital, resources, stock and horses, not to mention sundry items that needed to be bought here and there. There was a quick knock at the door before it cracked open and a servant with curly black hair peeked her head in. "Yes?" Cassandra wrote down the number she'd come up with on the scratch paper before she forgot and looked up.

"Duke Du Nord has arrived."

Cassandra nodded and put the quill back in it's holder and flipped the cap to the ink pot shut. "Thank you, I'll be right there." Cassandra scooted out her chair and wiped her hands on a rag that she'd brought with her. She had ink streaks on her hands and a few dots on her wrists from scraping the quill so much, but it wasn't too terrible. The past week had been rather quiet. Edmund had saddled up his knights and horses an hour after receiving a messenger, merely telling her he'd be back soon, it was important. Cassandra hadn't had time at that precise moment to question what was wrong or what was going on. Now that he was back, the questions that she had surfaced in the back of her mind. But first, she needed to get downstairs to even see if he was alright.

As Edmund started down the hall, Cass started down the opposite one of him. She'd put on a simple mint dress that had seen better days and had some ink splotches on the hem. It was her 'work' dress as she called it, and no where near the fancy ensembles the courts could produce. She turned a corner and spotted Edmund heading her way. Automatically a smile lifted to her face as her eyes swept over him. He wasn't soaked from any rain, she didn't see any wounds, but his expression about matched the clouds outside. "Welcome back Edmund." Cassandra waited for him patiently and her eyes moved to where he was trying to get his cloak undone. "Would you like some help?"

[Edmund Du Nord]

Edmund wondered where Cassandra was. In the house seeing to business? Out inspecting the horses? Or riding out before the rain stopped such escape?
He longed to see her, to know that she was well after his speedy departure last week. But he did not wish for her to see him. How could he stand before her knowing that he had proven himself unworthy of her. She should have married Thanos.
His dismal thoughts were broken by the tap of heels against the stone flags of the corridor, a woman's shoe moving confidently towards him. He looked up to gaze towards his wife, his blue eyes listless. He came to halt before her, and frowned at her question. Help? Oh, his cloak.
"No, I can manage."
He replied with a shake of his head. He sighed and finally unfastened the buckle that had proven too fiddly to his numb fingers. The young Duke slung the cloak over his arm, until he could put it down in his quarters or hand it off to a servant to get cleaned. His whole outfit needing cleaning, there had been no time to pack anything except necessities, and his tunic and breeches were very travel-worn and blood-stained. Edmund pulled at the neck of his armour that he had dare not be without over the last week, he would be glad to finally be out of it.
"There are sad tidings, Cassandra."
He finally said, but found he could not go on here. They needed privacy, and she would need somewhere to sit to hear the worst of it.
"But first I must get out of my armour."
He added quietly, as an excuse for his inability to just come out and say what needed to be said.
Edmund tried (and failed) to smile in her direction, before moving past his wife, onwards to their quarters. Edmund let himself into his dressing room, noting the man servant who poured more steaming water into a half-full tub. He turned and bowed at the Duke's arrival, and Edmund dismissed him, with a request that he should not be disturbed.
Listening out for the following footsteps of his wife, hoping that she would accompany him; but also hoping that she would leave him be and remain innocent and happy for a while longer.
Edmund started to remove the gauntlets from his arms and put them on the table. He sighed again and began to unbuckle the metal casing that covered his torso.

[Cassandra Du Nord]

Cassandra's smile dropped to be replaced with a quieter look. The look on his face was worse than the clouds outside and she moved to his side as he finally wrangled the cloak off. Once the cloak was off his shoulders, she got a better look at him. His armor and then the clothes. The tell-tale red stains made her blanch and her eyes darted up to his face as she moved for him. "Ed--"

There are sad tidings, Cassandra. What had happened? Where had he gone? Was he hurt? Was he bleeding? Had he ridden this whole time without a doctor? Or was that someone elses' blood? Cassandra watched him move past her and waited a beat before flagging down a servant. "Bring me hot food for Duke Du Nord within the hour, please. Something that isn't hard on the stomach." The maid bowed and left and Cassandra turned and started after her husband. By the time she made it back to Edmund's quarters, he had already removed his metal sleeves and was working on getting the fastenings undone to the breast plate he had on. Cassandra quietly shut the door behind her and moved to his side. The brunette moved to his other side and started undoing the buckles that were located there. Her fingers were anxious to touch his sides, to make sure he wasn't the owner of that blood, but she didn't want to poke at a hidden wound he might have. "Sometimes this is done better in pairs." Her voice was calm even though she felt nervous. She undid the one side and then took his cloak from him, hanging it on a hat rack out of the way.

"Here, sit for me, let me get your legs." She had a somewhat basic working knowledge of the buckles and straps. They were easy to take off, but if someone handed them to her to put on, she wouldn't have a clue which piece to put on first. Cassandra, ever the busy bee, motioned him to a chair. He looked like he hadn't slept the whole week he'd been gone. Different thoughts moved through her head as she waited for him to sit on the padded bench in his room. "Are you injured? Do I need to send for a surgeon?"

[Edmund Du Nord]

Edmund dropped his arms to his side as his wife took over the task of unbuckling the other side of his armour. He let his eyes drift to the corner of the room, not wishing to meet her gaze. Eventually he shrugged the metal item off, and propped it against the table. Beneath it his tunic was creased and looking far from fresh.
At Cassandra's command, Edmund sat on the nearest seat, a cushioned coach that was heavenly soft after the days spent in the saddle, and the days in Caras castle when every nerve was jumping and he could never relax. When the casing came from his left leg, Edmund rubbed sensation back into his thigh. His old injury from the joust was not particularly painful, but ached worse than the rest of his travel-worn body.
Edmund smiled at his wife's concerned questions, but the smile was more like a grimace.
"I am well, my love. Better than I deserve to be."
Edmund replied, giving the only piece of good news he had - his own health. Everything else was just a nightmare. He looked down at his clothes, the blood that stained them, and the smell of unwashed sweat. It was hardly right that he should sit beside the perfect Cassandra (the marks of ink did not count!). But at least most of the blood was not his own, he had come away with the most minor of scrapes.
"Rhiann is dead."
He suddenly announced, getting the unchangeable fact out. He didn't know whether or not he was relieved or saddened. He hated his mother and had often wished for her death, but she was still his mother, and he could not deny the duty that he felt towards her. After all, it was that which had driven him into this mad adventure in the first place.
Edmund leant forward, dropping his heavy head and running his hands through his tangled black hair.
"There is much to tell you, Cassandra. But I fear to, for you will hate me by the end of it."
He sat up again, and looked to his right hand. He sighed, he might as well get the worst of it over with now - the secret he had been keeping for many weeks now. He twisted a ring from his right hand, and hesitating, handed it over to his wife.
"Do... do you know what manner of item this is?"
He asked somewhat nervously, looking from the signet ring bearing a wolf's head, back up to his wife's face. He did not doubt her intelligence, but he did not know what an innocent lady might know.

[Cassandra Du Nord]

Cassandra eyed her husband as he sat down. Once he was sitting she knelt on the floor at his legs and her fingers starting undoing the different buckles. The left one came off first, followed by the shin guard, before she started working on the right one. The smell of sweat wasn't the most pleasant, but then again she had dealt with horses her entire life. If he wanted an unpleasant smell, the birthing stall would take the cake over sweat any day.

Rhiann is dead. Cassandra's fingers stilled entirely and she looked up with a look of surprise and shock. His mother was dead? So that must've been the reason why he had ridden so fast - news of her demise maybe? Or had she been sick? Or... had someone from her tangled webs finally escaped and done her justice? Cassandra felt guilty for thinking it and judging by the look on Edmund's face, he wasn't sure what to think of it either. "Edmund..." She was a woman of few words today as she reached for his hands and squeezed while sitting at his feet. "I'm sorry." Not because of Rhiann. No, she would never be sorry over Rhiann. The hell she had put her family, her country, her son and husband through. But she was sorry because it was a mother, his mother. And now that she was finally gone... mixed feelings were sure to brew.

Cassandra pried the other leg casing off and and propped it up against the bed post. "Edmund, I could never hate you." Her tone was reassuring even as her stomach twisted nervously for whatever bad news he was going to share with her. She could be angry with him, just as she was sure he could be angry with her when she did foolish things, but she could never hate him. The young woman's musings were stopped when he leaned forward and started taking off a black ring before quietly giving it to her. Cassandra took the item, unaware that she held a rather prized and somewhat cursed item in her hands. She turned it over a few times before looking to the wolf head on the front. "It's an insignia ring," she stated at first, almost cautiously, as she looked it over. She remembered he'd started wearing this ring awhile ago, but she didn't know where he'd gotten it, or where it was from. Obviously important, for him to wear it. "Edmund, what is the value of this ring to you, or the importance of it." The questions were a little maddening as she lifted her head to look up at him. She didn't know the black court had rings, only names, the most famous being the Black Widow, which was Rhiann. The best worst kept secret in the land. She didn't know the names of the others... Alannah might have, but Cassandra didn't.

[Edmund Du Nord]

Edmund watched as Cassandra turned the ring in her hands, but there was only open curiosity in her expression, not the disgust that any sane person would feel at handling such a token. He looked away, staring resolutely away from her as he explained.
"That is... a token of the Black Court. A way for members to recognise one another, and confirm the identity of the writer of letters."
He paused, then nodded in the direction of the cursed item.
"That was originally the emblem of a great general from Esquiol, Eadgar Oeric. From what I've gathered he was a cunning and ruthless man, and I believe my mother depended on him greatly before the civil war."
Edmund sighed at his brief history lesson.
"He's long since dead. But the ring - my mother has been trying to press it upon me for many years now, though I do not see any of the General's qualities in myself. I always refused, I never had any wish to serve her Black Court."
Edmund paused again. Up until this moment, he was still innocent, save that he bore the ring. He ran his fingers through his hair again.
"You remember when my mother came up with that ridiculous scheme, about your parentage? Well, I went to her to demand that she left you alone, and she agreed, on one condition..."
Edmund remembered the day with clarity. That his mother sat at her desk, surrounded by papers and accounts, listening to her son with the smallest of interest. She had seemed unimpressed and unsurprised by his demands, and treated him as patronising as ever, as though she awaited him to see the light.
"I would not have accepted, but I could not risk what she might do to you."
His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. There was little excuse for him siding with the Black Court. What would Cassandra have done in his position? What would anyone do? The thought of his step-father drifted into his mind. Edmund knew that Roland, when faced with duty, had given up his love Raven to do what was right.

[Cassandra Du Nord]

The more Edmund began to explain, the more her hands began to still. The black ring was no longer a mere curiosity, it was... deadly. Cassandra's thumb brushed across the side of the ring and to the wolf head that was etched there. She knew that Rhiann was underhanded, and she knew that she had been pressuring Edmund to take over her 'legacy' in a sense... it had been more of a gut feeling. Roland needed an heir, but so had Rhiann. Who better to pass the Black Court to than her son? Cassandra knew that Rhiann could possibly try to pressure her son, but she didn't know when, or if she already had.

Apparently she already did.

Cassandra felt a sick twist form in her stomach as she tore her gaze away to stare at Edmund. Her expression was unreadable for a moment as he explained that Rhiann had threatened her well being. If she had threatened Edmund, Edmund would have taken that chance. But he'd joined to protect her, his wife. Cassandra felt her stomach twist into a few more knots as she looked away from Edmund and then back at the ring she now held in her hand. Her husband was part of the Black Court, a ring known for crime, death, even civil wars! For a moment Cassandra didn't say anything before she shook her head and got to her feet. She needed a moment, a moment to think. "Is that why you rushed off over a week ago? To do your mother's bidding? The Court's bidding?" Her voice was very careful, almost stoic, as Cassandra wandered away from him and over to his dresser. She pulled out the drawers until she found a small box that held the fancier pieces of jewelry she'd given Edmund when they'd first gotten married. A cloak brooch, a ring, and then a watch. For a moment she nearly put the ring in there, but after a moment she changed her mind and shut the drawer and wandered over to the fire place. She had half a mind to throw the ring into the fire that was burning. She was angry, at him for accepting this without even telling her, for putting himself in harms way just to make sure she was okay without coming to her. She would have helped in any way that she could! She didn't want Rhiann to sink her claws into her son. And she was furious at Rhiann. But...

He had put himself in harms way to protect her. Would she have done the same? She knew that if anyone tried to come between her and her family, she would do anything to protect them. Finally she put the ring on top of the mantle piece before turning to look at Edmund. He looked... distraught almost, and so very tired, like he couldn't carry the weight of the world anymore. Cassandra moved to sit on the padded bench next to him after a moment. So now that Rhiann was dead, he felt that he could tell her this big secret. Had Rhiann forbidden him to tell? Well, obviously that wouldn't go over well if others did find out. Cassandra hesitated for a moment before she reached for his hand, now bare of the ring. "I... understand why you did what you did, why you accepted." She wasn't happy about it at all, and she wouldn't say as much, but she could understand. If someone put her into a position where she had to chose either life or punishment over a loved one, she would take that burden. "I just wished you would have come to me, to tell me. Edmund, horrible things could have happened to you. You could have been caught and tried for treason, or killed over this. I don't..." Her grip tightened a little as she paused to collect her words. "I don't want you to be hurt, or to lose you because of me. I want to be able to protect you... I don't want to be the reason why you suffer." If Rhiann hadn't already been dead, Cassandra would have given half a mind to confronting the black witch herself. But in the end, what could she do? She had no resources like Rhiann, no assassins who could drop through a window at a moments notice, no real network of spies... She wouldn't have even held a candle to her. No, the real threat to Rhiann had been Roland and the Regesvard. Not a daughter-in-law.

Rhiann always got her way it seemed. "I don't know what I would have done if a soldier came to my doorstep to tell me that my husband was dead." But now it was over. Rhiann was dead, through one reason or another, and it was over... right? Cassandra glanced up at Edmund. No.. The Black Court would feel a major loss at the death of their queen, but nothing was so simple. This situation was anything but simple. "There's more to this story you're going to tell me, isn't there?" Had Rhiann been buried? Had she even had a funeral? She wasn't sick, so how had she died? More and more questions bubbled underneath the surface. Cassandra bit her tongue and held them back.

[Edmund Du Nord]

Edmund could only sit in silence as Cassandra got to her feet and started to pace the room. His eyes followed her movements, across the room to the dresser, where she hovered over his box of jewelry. He tensed slightly, wondering if she was going to put that ill ring amongst those treasured gifts? But no, she moved on again.
Edmund fancied that he saw in her expression an interest in the fire. He would not stop her if she were to throw the blasted thing into the flames. It was probably just a relic to a traitors' circle that may well crumble now its head had been cut off.
"It was."
He murmured in answer to her questions. He remembered the note that had been delivered with all haste. It had been written with a vagueness that, read by innocent eyes meant nothing, but Edmund had seen the command to act within it. And he had ridden out, though he still did not know whether it was duty to the Black Court; duty to his mother; or simply his desire to reduce the damage that had driven him to take his knights across the country at a moment's notice.
Eventually Cassandra returned to the seat beside him, and when she said that she understood, Edmund felt like he could breath again. She wasn't shouting that he'd betrayed her, she wasn't demanding that he leave and never return. Oh, she looked as pissed off as hell, but at least she somewhat understood. And her hand felt so soft and forgiving as it wrapped around his.
"I could not tell you. I could not bear you seeing me as a traitor. And sometimes knowing too much is dangerous, I could not risk involving you. But... I did tell Duke Caras..."
Edmund's voice almost trailed off at this point. He tensed, expecting to be hit for his behaviour in confiding in Cassandra's former suitor, but not Cassandra herself.
He dropped his voice to barely above a whisper for the next part - it was still an active secret and one that he hoped he could trust his wife in.
"Thanos is of the Regesvard. I came to an... understanding with the organisation, that I would remain in the Black Court, but deliver to them any news and dealings that should pass me."
Edmund squeezed back her hand, and smiled as his wife swore that she wished to protect him. But it was only good intentions, he doubted that anyone as good and noble as Cassandra could do anything against the poisonous Black Court.
"That is my duty to you, my love. It is more than duty. It is all my life is worth to see you safe."
Edmund slowly put his arm around her shoulders, pulling his wife in close, and kissing her lightly on the forehead as she fretted over the idea of his death being reported. It was a chance he knew he had to take, he hated for her to worry, or worse to grieve; but he was only doing what he could to keep her safe in the long run.
Edmund tensed again as Cassandra pressed for the rest of the story.
"So much more."
He whispered. In fact, he had not even started, only given the background to which she had not been privy before. Now that she knew the deal he had made, the rest may all make sense. By the gods, he hoped it made sense.
"Roland sent my mother to Keylea to take holiday. But it was a shallow ruse, he was finally making his move to get rid of her - I know not what he decided upon in particular. Whether to have her locked in a gaol; exiled; or simply killed. But she got word to me, bid that I come swiftly. And I went, as you witnessed. I thought to meet her on the Keylean border, but I was met only by a lowly man acting as messenger who gave further instructions..."
Edmund broke off. That scruffy, bearded man that had been so defiant and rude in their presence, the one that had told him of the nightmare unfurling in Caras castle... was also the man that had killed his mother...
"My mother planned her escape - she would barter for it in exchange for the lives of the Caras family. She guessed that Thanos would be part of her entourage, along with most of the Regesvard and his Keylean knights. Sensing a weak spot, she sent her horde of bloodthirsty soldiers to tear Caras Castle apart. I..."
He paused again, his eyes staring into space. Instead of seeing his comfortable apartament, he saw General Pellean and his mob. The way they killed without mercy, plundered all they could and tortured any woman to fall within their reach.
"I was not summoned there to fight, please believe me that I would never harm those innocent people, no matter what hold She had on me. I was there to limit the damage, to exact some control over the chaos and make sure that the Duke's family remained unharmed."

[Cassandra Du Nord]

Cassandra shot her husband a look when he said he couldn't tell her, but he could tell Duke Caras. He couldn't tell his own wife, but he could now tell Thanos. Cassandra couldn't help but twitch at that part. Good gods above, she shared a life and a bed with him and he goes and tells a man who is on awkward terms with them? Cassandra let out a quick sigh through her nose and wrinkled it before he went on to explain why he had, why it now made sense. Thanos was Regesvard and Edmund had exposed himself so it wasn't a surprise, because he didn't /want/ to be Black Court. He wanted to be on good terms with the Regesvard, not fall into stick webs of lies and deceit. It made sense...

Why did everything he do make perfect sense?

Because it was Edmund, and he was cunning. His smarts were just put to far better uses than the old general whose ring he had inherited. He was smart and clever and was picking his battles carefully. She understood, and everything he said made perfect sense when it came to his decisions. Thanos being Regesvard didn't surprise her, and probably explained why he and her mother were good friends. Alannah was Regesvard, as had her father and his father and so on and so forth. Roland was Regesvard - everyone knew that fact. But it was dangerous to come out and directly say it, it was like painting a giant X over your heart and opening yourself up to an attack. Cassandra felt his arm loop around her and she got better situated at his side, though she was more than quiet. All of this was hard to swallow at once. Later, once she had weighed and measured everything he had said, she would feel calmer and feel better that Edmund had done what he had thought was best. But at the moment she was angry with Rhiann for essentially trying to ruin her son, for trying to take what she thought was rightfully owed to her, and to take just whatever her whims wanted. The news about the Caras estate only topped the whole story off.

Cassandra turned and looked at him as he went on to explain what happened. That would explain all the blood and for a moment she felt her heart seize. While she and Thanos had ended on somewhat shaky terms, he had still been her friend, and he was an ally. Rhiann boldly attacking a Duke like that made her wonder what else the woman had had up her sleeve. "Your mother asked you to attack the Caras household as leverage?" Her tone was a soft whisper, nearly a hiss, and she felt her face start to flush with anger. Cassandra grit her teeth and gripped his hand harder before completely letting go. "Life is not some fanciful thing where you can do whatever you wish to do, and life is not meant to be a war game!" Cassandra could go on and on, but Edmund wasn't done talking yet, so she resumed being silent and let out a long, shaky breath. Her temper wouldn't do her any good. She just had to remind herself that these were past events, that Rhiann was dead, and she wouldn't be causing such a fuss anymore. Cassandra could only hope.

"I know you wouldn't hurt innocent people," she stressed. "But that woman--" She was dead, she had to remind herself that the woman was dead. She couldn't rant and rave personally at the woman at how foolish she was to just do whatever she felt like to justify her own means. "What's become of the Caras family? What is the end result of all this? Is the Duke dead? Are Iphi or the other lords dead? Mother Caras? Were you successful in limiting the damage?" She had to get up again, this time to pace to get the nervous energy out of her that had started to bubble up. To make herself useful she started putting his armor out of the way and in one corner of the room so neither one of them would trip over it.

[Edmund Du Nord]

Edmund frowned at her hissed comment. No, his mother had not asked him to attack the Caras household, she knew him too well. Her messenger had only told him that the attack had already started, and to hurry there as fast as their horses could carry them to ensure the Caras family remained alive. Rhiann had played on his desire to protect and act nobly, just as she had when blackmailing him into the Black Court. How well she used to play them all.
Edmund let out a sigh of relief that Cassandra's anger was directed solely towards his mother, that she did not openly blame him. He watched as she jumped up, her hands itching to do something, anything. He recognised the nervous energy, and felt some of it himself, but his nerves were completely overwhelmed by exhaustion. Now that he was here, home, safe, he felt that he could finally relax. He was looking forward to sleeping, and hoped that his exhaustion would keep any nightmares at bay.
"They are all alive, and relatively well. Iphigenia and her young cousin are unharmed. Lord Solone and Lady Maria bearing superficial ills from the attack. Thanos took a bad blow to the leg as he brought Rhiann's barbarians to battle, but both he and Jairus survive. Those that supported Rhiann were mostly killed, including their leader General Pellean."
Edmund reeled off, his voice very dull. He shivered as he spoke of Pellean. Edmund had stood face to face with the man, had conversed with him for the duration of the occupation of Caras Castle. He had felt the malevolence of tthe man beneath the veneer of a softly spoken soldier. He was not sorry that the General was one of the casualties of the battle. He would not be able to sleep easy knowing such a man was at large.
Edmund exhaled slowly, wondering whether to bring up the deaths of two servants and their children, deaths that he had ordered in a ruse to fool the mob and save the Caras family. But no, despite how forgiving and open Cassandra was to his tale, nothing good could come from confessing that.
"But it is all over. Thanos told me that my mother, rather submit to trials set by the Duke, had one of her own men take her life. She wanted to end things on her terms."
Edmund added. Thanos had been rather vague over what "trials" he had in mind for Rhiann, but Edmund guessed they must have been horrific and degrading indeed for the Black Widow to opt for death instead.
And So Rhiann had ended things on her terms. Instead of an exchange of prisoners and her freedom, she had condemned both sides to battle and many losses. Her original plan had been that the Caras family would die with her, but Edmund had at least been able to upset that particular plan.

[Cassandra Du Nord]

It was a wonder how worry and relief could come and go and then come back together all at the same time. She was relieved that the Caras family was alright, but worried over Edmund, and worried over the fact that the Caras family had been injured. Shaken with a few blows, but still working. Cassandra ran a hand through her hair and smeared a smudge of ink against her temple that was left over from her hand. She would need to write a few letters of correspondence with the Duke in question and to her mother, at the very least. She assumed that since this was Black Court and Regesvard dealings that otherwise it would be hush-hush and meant to stay under wraps.

Cassandra put away the last of the armor. She paused as she looked over the dressers and her eyes glanced towards the ring when he mentioned his mother - how she had ended all of it. Cassandra wasn't sure how to feel about it and she looked away from the ring and then moved around the room again. By now the bath water would be hot, she mused. There was a lot to think over... but for now, there were other things that needed to be done at that very moment. The brunette walked into the tiled bathroom that off shot from his quarters. Plumbing was a beautiful thing, because she could turn a knob and hot water could come pouring through. Cassandra started the water in the deep tub and then walked back to where she had left Edmund. She took his hand and helped him up to his feet. She didn't know what words of comfort she could offer when it came to his mother, or if he even wanted them. So she decided that perhaps actions would be better until she knew what to say.

"Let's get you into the tub. Food will be on it's way soon, and then you can sleep." Her tone was gentle as she stood by him, even though emotions and thoughts tumbled wildly inside her mind. Until she could have time to sort everything out, it was best if she didn't say anything. Cass took Edmund's hand and led him to the bathroom and then left him to strip at the side of the tub. "Your clothes I don't think will be salvageable, but some soap and scrubbing will save your skin." Steam filled the room as she brought soap and a sponge over along with a rinsing bucket and some towels. She rolled her sleeves up and stuck her fingers under the faucet to test the temperature. It wasn't scalding, but it was hot enough to make muscles go lax. "Are there any places on you that have scrapes or any open cuts?"


{Seeing as I've had other threads on here with indoor plumbing, I figured the rich would have them too >>; We decided that it fell under 'magic' or something of that nature.}

[Edmund Du Nord]

((Um, ok, I'll ignore the fact that Edmund already ordered a servant to fill a bath the old fashioned way :P ))

Edmund watched as his wife stood and made herself busy. It seemed that the news had unsettled her and she had to do something, even the lowly tasks of putting away his armour and preparing his bath, things that could be left to the servants. But Edmund recognised the restless energy. Hadn't he trained excessively after Mailor's death to numb the pain? He would probably be acting likewise, filled with adrenaline and fear, if he were not so thoroughly exhausted by the events of the last week or so.
As Cassandra stood before him once more and gently slipped her soft hand into his, Edmund sighed and made himself stand up, his legs feeling leaden. He followed his wife obediently into the bathroom, then as she finally released his hand, he began to remove the last layers. He dropped them carelessly to one side - even if they could be saved, Edmund would rather have those clothes burnt.
He stepped into the tub and sank down, the hot water enveloping him and making him sigh. All over his body it carressed his tired skin and immediately relaxed his taut muscles. In the odd place it stung where there were grazes and injuries that Edmund had not noted yet, but on the whole a pleasurable experience.
"Nothing serious."
He replied to Cassandra's question, feeling the guilt wash over him again that he should get away so unscathed. He reached over to take the soap from his wife's hand.
"I was one of the lucky ones."
And that he was. Edmund was only relieved that his luck extended to his men. Of the twelve knights he took with him on this mad adventure, all had returned alive, if a little bruised and suffering minor injuries.

[Cassandra Du Nord]

{I got confused! It was late! There were stars in my eyes! I blame DG! Cause it's the easy thing to do. =P }

{PS: I've been asked to not install magical plumbing (COUGH YOU LET ME LAST TIME DG YOU STALKER COUGH) and he doesn't get a pocket watch as a present. This is why my major is ENGLISH, not History yo. >.>; Instead we'll say its... a... really pretty fountain pen? Idk >< }


Once Edmund had gotten into the tub, Cassandra took a basket from one of the cabinents and put Edmund's dirty clothes inside of it. She left him for a moment as he eased in to put the clothes outside of the door to his rooms. She could smell food in the hallway and knew that his plate would be up shortly. Once she returned she handed him the soap and a rag. "That's good," she said at first. He was one of the lucky ones. He was, and Cassandra mentally thanked whatever god was listening at that moment in time. Cassandra looked around the bathroom and then at Edmund. There was nothing left to do but leave him in peace. "I'll be in the next room should you need me, I'll leave you to your privacy." She paused at the doorway and looked at him. "I'm glad you're home."

She left him then and the nervous energy had her moving about his room, folding down the bed for him to sleep in and pulling out loose clothes in case he wanted to get dressed again. The smell of food was getting 'louder' and a soft knock at the door was answered to reveal a tray of food with a thick, creamy soup and bread with a glass of water. The servant set the food on the butler's tray before excusing himself and leaving Cassandra alone in the room again. She set herself back down with a sigh in a chair and ran a hand over her face as she began processing just everything that had happened in the past week while Edmund was away.

One moment she's bored waiting on letters to arrive or a groomsman and the next thing she knows, history's been made without her even knowing it! What a life... Cassandra shook her head and rested her head in her hand on the arm chair. She'd see that Edmund got to bed before she dealt with the rest of the letters she had in her office, but a few seconds of shut eye couldn't hurt.

[Edmund Du Nord]

((That's ok, I blame DG too))

Edmund took the soap and rag and gazed up at Cassandraas she excused herself. She was glad that he was home. Edmund sighed, he had only been a part of this household for a few months, and yet it felt more home to him than countless years spent in Dunmore, in the royal palace, or even his own small house near Huntingdon. It was a comforting feeling to be here.
Edmund got to work in scouring the dirt, sweat and blood from his skin as he heard the small noises of activity in the next room - obviously Cassandra could still not settle. By the time he stepped out of the bath, the water was a grim shade. He quickly dried and with the towel about his waist he padded barefoot into the next room. The scene made him smile, a tray of food on the table, the bed made ready and his clothes laid out for him. And his dear Cassandra finally resting on a chair, looking decievingly like she was asleep. Edmund walked over to the bed and replaced his towel with a much more respectable trousers and tunic, then he moved back over to where his wife reclined. He reached out and gently stroked his silky hair, then bent down and kissed her softly on the top of her head.
"I love you."
He breathed, knowing that he could not say it enough to her.
He turned away to the tray that the servant had brought and sat beside it, taking no time at all to tear into the fresh bread, and mop up the soup that was a heavenly dish after the stale and sparse affair he'd had over the last week.