A House Divided RPG

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Caeran sat alone by the window in his room. He was not on duty, but he could not relax. He desperately wanted to be with Earnil, both on account of the boy's suffering and because of who that food had been meant for. It was not the dog. However he knew that for the moent at least Earnil would not like to be around the man who had seen his grief or his tears. The lad felt his age and his responsibilities keenly.

Caeran sighed suddenly. That was not all of course. Although he didn't like to admit it to himself he felt huge guilt. Guilt that he had not been able to save Huan, but guilt that he had been looking after Earnil and the lad had nearly been killed. He shuddered at the thought but forced himself to face it- he could have been killed. Perhaps it was not negligence, certainly no-one had lain any blame on him, but that did not stop the guilt.

This is what being a father must feel like all the time, he thought wryly and wondered- as he so often did- why he was so keen to become one. This brought thoughts of Lorna, and a desire to see her that was almost painful.
Why do we torture ourselves like this? he mused. Love seems to bring so much pain- missing someone, worrying about them, loss. Perhaps my mother has the right idea after all. Look where her sole love has brought her!

A sort of fellow feeling gave Caeran more pity for his mother than he had felt for a long time. She probably knew the same longing he was feeling- and his would last only weeks. He felt as though a dark rain cloud had settled itself over his head and shoulders, weighing him down and putting blackness in front of his eyes.

Enough of this nonsense!, he admonished himself after a minute or two. All I need is a long walk. I shall look at the beauties of the city so that I can describe them to Lorna. Purposefully he strode out through the corridors to the nearest door. As he looked up at the sky the first few drops of rain began to fall from the assembled rainclouds.
Such is life, he told himself wryly.

**********************************

"Poison? Poison in the br- boy's food?" Morwen asked in a hushed voice. This was news that deserved respect. An attmepted poisoning on the heir? That was a once in a lifetime occasion, surely!
"Do you know anything else?" she asked the maid, almost forgetting to sneer. "No m'lady" the girl said.

Typical, Morwen thought bitterly.
"Don't you have work to be getting on with?" she asked the maid icily. The girl turned and almost ran away instantly. Morwen returned her thoughts to the poisoning. Well she would have to find out some other way. Perhaps she could visit her son? He was a guard to the brat- a grand job he seemed to be making of it!- and it was a suitable excuse. Motherly concern. She was supposed to be going to the Queen, but she would understand.
Or not, she thought maliciously. Not having personal experience as it were...

The thoughts of the Queen tugged at a new idea in Morwen's head. Who would want Earnil dead? Beruthiel surely had to top the list? Morwen shook her head slightly at the thought. Was she getting imaginative all of a sudden? Starting a rumour like that was far too risky. That could do more than damage if the origins of it were ever traced.

Caeran was not in his room, Morwen discovered. She would have to go to the Queen on time after all. She could lie, of course, and say that she was with Caeran, but her duty awaited. Stifling an unladylike sound of annoyance she began to make her way to the Queen's appartments, via her own room to fetch her black shawl.

The piece of paper flattened itself across the front of her dress. Morwen shook her skirts to dislodge it- it was not her job to pick up rubbish!- but it wouldn't move, tucking itself into a crease. Angrily she reached down for it. About to throw it away she glanced at it. It had cost her trouble, she might as well know what it was.

Your Majesty,
Please accept my humble apologies for my failure in the market. Be assured that my next endeavor will not have similar results. The cause of your worries will be removed as expediently as possible. I hope you are not fond of leftovers.


Morwen smiled.