| Secrets and Bathtubs |
| Summary: | Shirlyn crashes Thomas' tub time to speak to him on secret things. |
| Date: | 1866-08-14 |
| Related: | MetaPlot related |
| NPCs: | {$npc} |
| Players: |
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| Thomas' rooms at the Tarris Manor |
| Not much of a room but it's better than a tent. In the center (at this particular time) is a big steaming ceramic tub. |
| 1866-08-14 |
Shirlyn says, "Where is he?" A lady's seemingly furious voice comes from the other side of the entry to the Tarris Manor. "Can't go in? Oh… I'm going in. Watch me!" The front doors slam open with a few Tarris guards talking calmly to placate the red-cheeked woman. "My lady of Charing… you can't just." Shirlyn turns on heel, her long braid swinging behind her. "Oh? I just did, didn't I? Where is the fool!?" She shouts to a near by servant who recoils at the lady's shout, at least her guards have half a sense to stand idly just inside the door. The poor woman points a wobbly finger towards a door and calmly backs away into the kitchen. Shirlyn smooths her dark blue skirts and sends a daring glance to the men who followed her in. "Well?" she says before she clicks the latch on the door. "Thomas! I have a need to speak to you, dove!" Her tone exacting a woman on fire, who would know what the poor Baron would think, still she slides in the door and slams it shut behind her.
Before and during the commotion going on downstairs, Baron Thomas Chandus has been soaking in a porcelain bathtub, specially brought into his small quarters in the manse. They aren't his quarters, but they've done well for the time being and, in any case, are much better than the bloody campaign tent he's been and out of for nearly the last year. He doesn't flinch at the sound of people yelling. This is Four Corners and some of his small bodyguard are letting off steam, anyways. Maybe it's them and one of their harpies? Instead, he breaths a sigh of relief that he doesn't have to deal with some yelling woman, his eyes still closed and a smile creeping up on his face.
That is, until his door slides open and shut. His eyes open, now, tired, half lidded. In a moment or two they'll be alert, but for now he's still rousing from his contentment. They turn and focus on Shirlyn and the smile is long gone. "What… Lady Shirlyn? What in the name of Saint Michaelis?"
"Yeah! It's me, you won't believe what /I/ heard today…" she trails off the shout and grins sticking close to the door to give the Baron at least a shred of privacy. "I appologize, my lord," she says as she turns her back and backs further into the room, "but pretenses must always be kept. The world is not as safe as it once was. Especially now with my kin trying to infect Viscount D'Armaz. I in no way want you implicated in any of my doings. Put simply, servants talk." She remains with her back turned, turning her ear slightly to hear what the Baron might have to say.
Thomas's eyes finally focus. "I'm not getting out of this bath, my lady. So you may understand, I decided to be a cruel lord and saddle my men, and myself, with full marching kit and walk out of the city into the countryside. We scrambled up the sides of the hills. I think we were gone for six, seven hours. We're getting soft. This is my reward. Speaking of reward, there's wine on the table. Feel free to pour yourself some and, if you would, please bring me some as well." Laying in the bath or not, Thomas is modest. He'll at least cover himself where it matters in preparation for her to come closer. "I heard of this infection. Was she hit on the hit, perhaps, during one of the battles? I've never seen her be so unreasonable as that. She's a wonderful healer."
Shirlyn shrugs and turns about, taking the wide bathing sheet and tossing it over the top of his tub with a quirk of a brow and a curl of her lip. "Well. One must reward one's self some of the time, my lord." She walks over to the table and pours out two cups of wine. "It is honestly the least I could do, I would've rather not to do this, but… well, my brother is a lackwit, such is my cousin. That leaves me no one to tell." She hands the cup over and sits on a nearby chair, enough distance to be modest but also enough to speak lowly. "She was none of that, my lord, she was helping with the illness from what I understand. She says Viscount D'Armaz threatened her and was impeding her work, but honestly it couldn't have been much of a threat. "
At the mention of a battle healer Shirlyn laughs, far too loudly. "Oh? Is she? The last I had heard from their house she was no more that an animal doctor. Tell me, my lord, do you have hooves?" She laughs once more and takes a sip of the wine. "I have seen her much and more unreasonable. How about putting her hand in a lions cage? Or trying to infect a Viscount… on purpose. No accident I heard it from her lips myself."
"Your brother is a good captain at war, whatever his faculties for other matters are." Notes Thomas, grasping the cup of wine with an appreciative smile and nod. "Thank you, my lady. I… don't know the Viscount d'Armaz, save by reputation. A man who got his family enobbled into a major house is unusual and likely not to be trifled with. And the money ,of course." He shrugs when she mentions Jaelynn's faculties in healing, his shoulders breaking the water. "I have seen her treat many a man, some who would not be walking today. She poured some kind of… solution on my wounds during the Peace Ball. I was bleeding quite badly from a stroke to the collarbone." The scar itself is plain as day; puckered, ragged, large and nicely healed. "But mayhaps in her latest travels, something happened? I had a cousin who fell from a horse. He was bright as day before, and after as daft as a goat."
"Ah. Yes. Well, just because someone is an exemplary Captain does not make them intelligent. He has brought his bastard daughter along… excuse me, recognized bastard," that garners a bit of a sneer from the Charing lady, "putting her in danger." She pushes the thought away with a wave of her hand. "No matter. The girl is why I cannot talk to him any longer." So it seems she does have something like a heart, Shirlyn takes a sip of wine. "Well. Far be it from me to argue with you," she shrugs, "perhaps. Or perhaps she's too soft in her sensibilities and doesn't know what a true threat is?"
Shirlyn sighs heavily. "No matter. That is not why I am here."
Thomas shrugs again, clearly unoffended. "A bastard, is a bastard. I didn't know he had one, but then why would I? She'll be provided for more than any common whelp, anyways, if you'll excuse my mannerism." He curls his wrist to tip some of the passable red wine down his throat. It's decent, but not superbly expensive; evidently, the Tarris have other things to spend coin on. Like bathtubs and soldiers. "Please, I expect that the servants are fluttering their busy little lips about you yelling your way into my chamber while I'm nude in a bath. And worse, while I'm still in half mourning. Well?"
"No need to excuse it. I wish he'd spend more time making heirs instead of bastards, but I suppose those hopes are dashed as well. For a time. He has a common consort, after all," Shirlyn sniffs and looks towards the door, taking a sip of her wine. "As I said, quite daft. " There's a heavy grin set on her face. "I know. That was entirely the point. Even though I'm terribly sorry for your loss, my lord. We've all," she stops and wrinkles her nose. "We have all suffered of late," she says with a small smile. "As for why I'm here? Well, I've spoken to Mattias on the matter of weapons. However, it may take him a few days to summon me with his results. And you do recall everything I have told you, I hope. That Aidric was quite firm that his men were Thorn spies?" She asks, twirling the contents of her cup.
Thomas doesn't appear to be too concerned with Rhett's conjugal situation, in all honesty. He is not rude enough to close his eyes and relax back in the tub, though, she he leans up and frees his torso from the water. He doesn't bother drying off; the heat will eventually do it for him. His body is scarred, though not terrible, besides two vicious places that look like they were pierced, one on his abdomen and the other his left breast. Thank the One for armour. He dips his head at Shirlyn's apology. "Thank you, and thank the One that my daughter survived, at the least. Childbirth. Alexandra was never the healthiest."
He looks away for a moment, ostensibly to take a sip from his cup. His face tenses and then relaxes and he turns back, looking as if nothing happened. "Yes, though you had told me that he had an inkling that they might be Thorns. Unless I misheard you? It was a loud room. Thank you for going to the Councillor on that matter."
Shirlyn's expression doesn't even flicker when Thomas seeks to find a bit of comfort in the tub. "The One may take away from us, but what they give back to the faithful is equal in bounty. You are very lucky to have her, it is not often that the child lives such an experience. You are blessed, truly, my lord. You are welcome, Mattias and I are friendly after a fashion. We've got similar business interests" She leaves her relationship to the banker at that.
"Quite a few months ago I got a missive from a contact of mine in Firen, he was passing on word that he had gotten from his own contact. I assure you the information is sound. It is, as follows," She leans forward and puts her elbow on the rim of the tub, staring at Thomas' face as she continues.
Reciting as if from memory Shirlyn gets a far-away look as if she's deeply thinking of something. "I am not exactly sure if this news will be of any help to you or not, but I have come to learn something that might be important even if it is not what you were seeking to learn. During the time of Haron there were many people accounted for. The Lady Melissa was at the keep there while Baron Mikal was in Duval for reasons unknown to me. Devid and Cyrene were off on business, with the former being in Sokar territory while the latter was in Griffon Point. And the heir, Samuel, was in a hunting party along with his second cousin, Fredrick, as well as a group of men.
Now, I am sure you might be wondering why any of this is worthy of bringing to your attention. While all of the others have alibis that are sound there are two who are worthy of being investigated, that being Samuel and Fredrick. While they claimed to be hunting in the southern part of Galtenthia close to Duval they were dressed in clothing more appropriate for colder climes instead of warmer, more summerly temperatures. Further more, the two bucks they brought with them were not the kind commonly found in that region but in the northern area of the kingdom, closer to the border. More specifically, this kind of deers only found in the Arkanin mountains. What do you make of that, my dear?"
Shirlyn blinks out of her memory and smirks. "Well. What do you think of that?" She's not stupid, she knows that this information would've been nice to have before the Fizroy's attacked.
Thomas appears to be in agreement with Shirlyn's assessment of divine will. "He has favoured my daughter and I know that when I pass, I will meet my lady wife again." As he's already steadied himself, he does not need to do so again. His watery blue eyes stare at Shirlyn as she recites the letter, soaking in the knowledge like water from his tub. When she's finished, his eyebrows shoot upwards on his forehead. It's a look that says he's impressed. "I see. Baron Mikal and Lady Marissa? Maybe you mean Baroness Marissa, the Fitzroy vitch who raped County Windholme and besieged Riverrend, my liege's capital, these four last months?" He almost spits when he says her name, but, restraining himself from such uncouth displays, continues, "Who are these other people? While the rest of the Duchy sent troops to the north to relieve Haron, the Duke appointed me suffect Warden of the East. Needless to say, I was considerably more green this time last year. I did not notice these people."
"For one such as you?" she remarks on the Baron's faith, "I should say you are correct." Shirlyn beams a smile, rare for her to have a true smile. "The very same, my lord. My, you catch on quite well." There is a small glimmer of respect as she raises her chin to his next, not even flinching at his curses. "Indeed. This was many months ago, and with what I do, sometimes at the time the pieces don't all fit together. I would hardly go to any one with it, now would I? Who would believe me?" Shirlyn sighs lightly. "I needed more proof, but before I could go investigate Fitzroy and my Aunt's lands I was recalled back home. Then, well, then Aidric was killed and a new player came into the game. The Parthians." Shirlyn grins. "Ah. And there you have it. Who are these people? But some of them are of no consequence I assure you, not now anyway, maybe someday. However, what in the Bloody Abyss were the Fitzroys doing on Arkanin lands? At the time, the duchy was shut down, if you recall. That is what I meant to investigate. But then came these weapons…"
Thomas returns the smile with one of his own, though only for a moment. Since January, with war and personal tragedy, they are fleeting things. "I don't know. Planning some kind of treason, I suspect. But it matters little now. In two months, I'm sure the Fitzroys will pop up in Alezzo under the Grey Prince, enjoying the end of a summer that, while it hasn't worked out entirely to their benefit, has enabled them to at least land softly." He snorts. "Do you think that some kind of treasonous meeting was planned on Arkanin lands? And how? Haron is in Arkanin lands."
"Ha! More than like, but it is not the Fitzroys that concern me, but rather… what were they doing there. Who were they talking to? Surely, they would need permits and proper papers to be allowed to hunt stag on Arkanin lands and then to make way across the border again…" She waves a hand, "A ponderance for another day, besides, they are all working for someone else anyway if my suspicions are correct." She lets that comment hang, using her free hand to bring her cup to her lips and take a drink, watching the Baron's face carefully as she does so.
Thomas seems highly amused at something which Shirlyn says. "Ah, my lady, would it be that we could truly control entry and exit onto our fiefs as easily as a toll house on a road or a gate in a city? But lo, my lady, as my brother Sir Henry found out in our Valley of Scales while I was away rallying troops with then Sir Henric and Viscount Varian at Tamlin Ford, we only /think/ we have control over entry. Guard posts are all well and good, but the sadly impressed and late Lord Malkess and his Caltu allies managed to sneak an army through to my lands. It was a good thing we had a decent set of watch posts with signal fires. That saved the Valley."
He shakes his head. "In any case, how easy would it be for a few men or women to walk across the hills, or through the forest, or even around guards on a road at night and get around whatever toll system your liege's house has set up? The tolls and guards work for law abiding citizens and merchants who wish to ply their wares. For people looking to get around such measures, they are simple. Unless the Arkanins had tens, nay, hundreds of thousands of men under arms defending their border, they could not but actually control a handful of the hundreds or thousands of passages into the land. So - how did they get across the border? Simple. They walked somewhere there was no soldiery, which is most places."
"Perhaps your right, it really is the only explanation that there passage went unnoticed, it was the type of deer that gave them away, after all. Very specific, in fact. There are still some Thorn factions about, to be sure… I suppose treason isn't entirely out of the question. But shoveling out that pile of shite to find the floor of truth is no easy feat," Shirlyn bites her lip and stares at the ceiling. "The Icenailans to the north, with far greater weapons than what they should have and the Parthians to the South with similar attributes. What, my lord, do you make of that?"
"The Parthians are richer than us. They control vast stretches of ocean trade. I am only curious as to why they were involved at all… perhaps we seemed a weak target, yes? Things are done differently there, I'm told. The Emperor, or King, whatever they call him, controls a loose federation of cities and territories that often do things at odds with his own opinions. Very curious, those Southerners. Rather barbaric, no wonder the Thorns have taken up residence there. If you wouldn't mind, my lady?" Thomas appears to be ready to get out of the bath, but will wait until Shirlyn looks away. Modesty's sake. "As for the Icenailans, I know not. Surely, they are too far from us to be related? The Thorns mercenaries and equipment could, maybe, possibly be explained by Parthian money. Heaps and sacks of gold with their scheming, strange faces on it. The mercenaries, I'll have you know, were in general of no elite status. They fought well, often, but our troops were usually better trained, supplied and led. As for the northerners… well, I'm not one."
"The Parthians are richer than us. They control vast stretches of ocean trade. I am only curious as to why they were involved at all… perhaps we seemed a weak target, yes? Things are done differently there, I'm told. The Emperor, or King, whatever they call him, controls a loose federation of cities and territories that often do things at odds with his own opinions. Very curious, those Southerners. Rather barbaric, no wonder the Thorns have taken up residence there. If you wouldn't mind, my lady?" Thomas appears to be ready to get out of the bath, but will wait until Shirlyn looks away. Modesty's sake.
"As for the Icenailans, I know not. Surely, they are too far from us to be related? The Thorns mercenaries and equipment could, maybe, possibly be explained by Parthian money. Heaps and sacks of gold with their scheming, strange faces on it. The mercenaries, I'll have you know, were in general of no elite status. They fought well, often, but our troops were usually better trained, supplied and led. As for the northerners… well, I'm not one." He looks up at her, again hoping she'll look away.
"But I recall you said that for all their wealth, the Parthians seemed over weaponized. That it would be overly costly, that in of itself is strange, don't you think? Barbarians, those are harder to puzzle out than even this mess," she doesn't respond just rises and turns her back, even she has standards it would seem. "But both are barbarian peoples with no real connection to us besides their usual raids. Now, all of a sudden, we've got major occupation of both kingdoms. Never mind the burning of Four Corners a long while back. Bah. Nothing is too far to be related," she says looking over at the table and setting down the empty cup.
"Not if someone wants to take over everything in between those two barbaric peoples." She shrugs. "If I was going to take over the entirety of the continent, I would spare no expense and stop at nothing. Honestly, that is the pattern I have seen. Promises of better places, Alezzo; people having more than they should, Icenailans and the Parthians; and many distractions, the Thorns for one. They certainly don't have enough coin to do what they have done, they had been squashed down for quite some time. So even they are well funded, them and their Gray Prince," Shirlyn sneers at that name, but she does turn her head and spit on the wood floor. "Foul man."
When Shirlyn rises, he gets up and towels himself off quickly. Within a minute and a half, the Baron is in a tunic and belting up. "We can speak in a civilised manner, now." He observes wryly. "As for the Parthians, what I meant to say was that the Thorn mercenaries were perhaps too well equipped.. though I suppose that sounds the same. Ultimately, there were more long cannons in this war than I had ever seen in my life. A pity many of them were destroyed in battle."
Thomas nods, finally picking up his cup for another go at the wine. He narrows his eyes at the drink and then smiles. That'll take a bit of the edge off those feet. Speaking of which - if Shirlyn does look, they're very well worn but with a few new blisters. "Maybe. I just have not seen enough evidence of all this to be fair, Lady Shirlyn. Strange coincidences yes. The money issue is troubling. But a continent wide plot?" He furrows his brow.
"Civilized? Ha! Since when does anyone do anything civilized these days? Very well," she turns with a grin. "I must've misheard you then, as you said it was quite loud. Not my favorite form of cover, honestly, much gets lost in the din," her brow does shoot up at the comment of long cannons. "Truly? Those are rather costly weapons, I've been told. Not to mention, it takes time to train how to use them. Curious," she chews her lip, "a pity indeed."
Shirlyn doesn't take much stock in his appearance but does smirk at his bare feet. "My lord, you'll get all of Four Corners talking about your indecency, I swear I spot ankle," she gives a chuckle and smirks pouring Thomas another cup of wine as he wraps his head around it all. "Why not? Why do things in halves? If you only conquer one half of it then you must needs fight the other. If you conquer it all with some paid help, well… Then it's all yours." There's a matter-of-factness to her tone that some find off putting, but still she continues. "Sure they could stand to leave Four Corners as it is, it's not really bothering anyone and is prosperous."
"Ah, yes. Well, their long cannoneers happened to get in melees with our troops. They will act as adequate spears and clubs, but against shields they do not do well." Thomas is taken away for the briefest of moments to happier memories… or at least ones where he was more actively useful. "I'm no Northern prude, but neither am I a Four Corner harlot, Lady Shirlyn." He chuckles. There is very little warm sounding in it, but it still represents some kind of mirth, at least. "Who are these people, then?"
"Well. I should think not. They seem rather blunt instruments, they should've kept a set of blades handy," Shirlyn is, however, lacking her blades. The thought of which makes her frown but she had wanted to come in good faith. "Oh. I think not, otherwise I wouldn't have come to speak to you, besides, Four Corners has enough harlots, me thinks."She chuckles lightly as well handing the cup over to Thomas while mulling over his question. "I don't know. And it is making me quite wroth, if I must be honest. Who ever it is, they are, they are keeping themselves well hidden."
She turns to face Thomas and sighs. "I… I didn't want to. For the love of the One, it's hard to explain. I didn't want to keep everything to myself. Abyss, I never even told Aidric half of this stuff for fear of what it might do. You see how well that turned out, it would seem he didn't need my help to die," there's a small frown as she looks down.
"I'm stuck, holding on to hopes on the merest of threads that I can get to the bottom of this mystery. Mattias is my only real connection on my next lead, but if something should happen to me… well, this information shouldn't die with me like Aidric's did." She falls silent for a moment, odd, she's not one usually taken for melancholy. "And you seem like the only person with half a mind in their head to understand the dangers of it all."
"I don't partake, though I understand their purpose." Observes the Baron with a dry tone and freshly neutral expression. He reaches over to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder when she talks of her brother. "I know what it feels like, my lady. Like you failed him. But it's not true. Your actions did not lead to his honourable death, and it was fighting the enemies of our Kingdom that he fell. I wish I could help you put the threads together, more. I have an analytical mind, but I lack the faculties and knowledge to pull the web together."
"Well, nor do I," she says somewhat less dryly, a touch of mirth in her tone. "I don't feel like a failed him," Shirlyn says casting a glance to the hand on her shoulder, "I feel like I failed the cause. This goes far deeper and the reach a lot longer than I have even told you." She gestures to the chair as she takes a seat herself. "I am, I was, I don't know if I am anymore, a part of a web, Thomas," she doesn't seem to notice her slip in propriety, or maybe she doesn't feel it's necessary and only slows down the tale. "It stretched from one kingdom to the next and the names of those involved quite notable. This is how I truly know that the North and South are both involved. There are a small few in line with my thinking, that there is one faction in control of it all."
"Do you feel like you are exercising enough caution in this, then? In battle, we wear armour and carry shields." Thomas follows Shirlyn's gesture, taking a seat and crossing his legs. "Do you have a shield? Armour?"
Shirlyn sighs and looks at her folded hands while she unloads her burden. "I do. Though I don't wear plate, it slows me down too much. And, well, I'm being overly cautious. I just risked ruining my reputation and marriage prospects over this, Thomas, just to keep your involvement a secret." She smirks, almost as if it's slightly humorous before a deep frown covers her face. "As I said, it goes pretty deep. Alina al'Sylenthar was a part of it as well as Tristan Romante," she looks up and meets Thomas' eyes. "And you need not pull the web together, however fortuitous it would be if you told me of anything odd you see. You only need to be a barer of my information."
She grabs the cup off of the table and takes a drink. "As you know, Lady Alina died recently. Most mysteriously, I might add. I don't find this a coincidence, nor do I find the fact that the Peace Ball happened around then too. If something happens to me get word to the queen of all I told you? That is all I will ask of you, truly. Even that I feel is too much."
"I don't mean literally, my lady. I mean; do you have armour that you wear in this war you're waging?" Thomas stares rather blankly at the mention of the Romante and al'Sylenthar. Names he knows but people he does not. The noble world is small degrees of separation few, but that doesn't mean that this Eastern Marcher Baron is familiar with even most. "I will do my duty, Lady Shirlyn. Surely you ought to leave this place and report to her soon, no?"
"My wits. It is the only armor you can have. I generally don't stay in the same place too long. Not if I'm poking around. Granted, a visit to Mattias is not unusual at all when one is a patron, and you are my shield. My life means little when it comes to the greater whole." She smiles and elaborates as she notes his slight confusion. "Tristan is the Queen's cousin, Thomas. Lady Alina was of the House al'Sylenthar of Alasce, heir in fact, and as far as I could glean, close to the royal house to the North in some fashion. So you see, North and South."
"As for the queen," Shirlyn shrugs, "I'm not going to bother her with this unless I know more. However, if something happens, she would be probably be pleased that it was not all lost."
Shirlyn reaches around her neck and unclasps one of two necklaces, by feel she knows which one she wants. "I can't trust Rhett, he's too emotional and would likely get himself killed. He's a lovely fellow, but… I need to distance myself from him and the rest of my kin." She slides the pendant from underneath the front of her bodice, it's a religious looking piece. "I had it made for Aidric, he was always fond of inconspicuous jewelry to hide rather important information." She holds it palm out and smiles, pointing to a few spots. "There is a clasp on the side to open it, there you will find a codex that matches mine own. Never take it off," she warns. "It's how we get messages to each other safely. Some sappy nonsense hidden above the true information." She laughs a little and holds it out to Thomas.
"Oh, I know who they were. High up people. They look so much taller when you're a little one." The Baron raises his hand way above his head, and then lowers it back down the ground, smiling. "I think you should go to the Queen as soon as you can take a boat to Firen. Even if you just tell… What's this?" He looks questioningly at the pendant, grasping it with one hand with a gentleness that suggests he believes it will fall apart if he is form. The other hand is wrapped around his jaw, in thought. "Messages? In code? Oh my." For a man who's seen much war, he seems rather concerned.
She grins and nods. "Oh. You have no idea. I always feel so small next to them. However, the trick is to not look up and pretend you're big too." Shrilyn smiles. "I will take your council to though, Thomas, but I will wait, at least, until Mattias calls upon me. I cannot go to her with things she may already know, I need things I know she does not." Shirlyn gives a riotous laugh. "Looks delicate doesn't it? It is quite sturdy, I assure you." She grins. "Welcome to my existence, Thomas. It's shrouded in mystery. It's fairly easy to use, those dashes are the letters you take from my missives, the rest is just… filler."
Shirlyn looks out the window. "I think I begin to tarry too long, even the maids might be wondering what is going on here."Shirlyn rises and goes to the water basin in the corner of the room and gently wets her braid to a dampened state. "One must always keep up appearances. Again, I am dreadfully sorry for the production, but to anyone looking from the outside, me speaking to you does not fit for what I'm investigating. Not at all. In this, you are safe. I hope."
"Perhaps, Lady Shirlyn." While she might have lapsed to the familiar, Thomas still isn't quite there. He stands when she does, tucking the pendant away in his tunic's pocket, though he evidently does not really know what to do with it. For a smart man, Baron Repton March can be a simpleton with some things. "Thank you for keeping me in your confidence. If the time ever comes and you need somewhere safe… Sun Shield Keep kept out thousands of surprisingly disciplined and well equipped Caltu for many months. Not to mention Lord Malkess and his rangers, who now work for me. You have a place of refuge there, should you need it."
The formality makes Shirlyn chuckle, those overly noble types always make her laugh. Instead she shakes her head as he puts it in his pocket. "When one is supposed to wear something and never take it off," she reaches into his pocket and pulls the delicate looking thing out and unclasps it, "it usually stands to reason that one would actually put it on." She puts her arms around his neck and clips the thing together. With a pat to the pendant where it lay in all its religious symbolism Shirlyn takes a step back and smiles. "Huh. It suits you rather well."
She quirks a brow at his next words. "I thank you for your kindness and your hospitality. None of this will ever be forgotten, ever. If ever I find need of refuge, I will surely go to Sun Shield Keep, I promise. I also promise to try and keep my brother off of you, as I'm sure he'll be none-too-pleased with my perceived dalliances here. I already told him not to believe everything he hears about me. I hope he remembers that now." She curtsies. "Thank you. For everything."
"I uh.. Thank you." Thomas's cheeks redden at having to be shown how to wear a pendant. They remain that shade for at least the next few moments. "I'd like to think he knows that I would never dishonour a noble lady, but, our encounters were only in the war camp. Maybe not? I don't take war trophies, so at least he didn't see that." By war trophies, he likely means women.
Thomas really doesn't know what to say, evidently.
"No worries, those clasps can be tricky things," she says with a grin. "You think too much into it, or maybe too little. I don't think anything about this encounter from their point of view," Shirlyn sweeps a gesture towards the door, "is anything but improper. But never you fret, it should end well enough. Weather you take War trophies or not is of no consequence. I am no trophy to be won or taken, either way. I'm a lady, you are a Baron. These things happen, I'm told." She shrugs and seems truly uncertain. "Ah well. What's done is done, I'll take the smudge on my name gladly. It could be much worse, I assure you, than a Baron." Shirlyn snickers and heads for the door, pulling her braid over her shoulder.
Again, the Baron is lost for words. He manages to sputter, "One keep you." as she heads out, but that's about it. He's left looking rather confused by his new knowledge… and how to manage the rumours.
"And you as well, my lord." The look on his face has Shirlyn laughing as she exits the room. "What are you looking at?" She says to a maid who's doing her best to look like she's shining some silver. The maid quickly looks away as Shirlyn collects her guards and heads out the door a beaming smile on her face and a laugh still coming from her lips.