A Princess, a Pirate, and a Scholar

"Here," the porter grunted, managing to twist open the door knob even with one of her bags in hand. He and the others helping wrangled her things into the well-appointed space, leaving her alone.

Rather, alone, save the silent silver-haired young man watching her through violet eyes.

Startled by his presence, Irina dropped a rough curtsy. "Irina Lux, of Hise," she mumbled.

The man inclined his hand respectfully. "Jasper. Your butler for the Summit, Lady Irina." He studied her, not seeming put off by the burn scars that covered her left side, lingering on her tightly clasped hands, "I was given instruction that you have... healing injuries to tend?"

Irina nodded, pointing to the smaller of her two trunks. "There's a salve in there, to be applied twice every day."

Jasper moved to the trunk and located the jar. "I will handle the process myself, to help keep word of it from spreading. Are you due now?"

Another nod, silent relief at the minimizing of rumor on her behalf. She loosened her hands and rolled up her sleeves just far enough to remove bandages and display the forming scars.

Jasper didn't flinch at the sight. Instead he gently guided her to a chair and waited until she'd sat. "Your maids will be along shortly, so why don't you tell me some things about yourself while I work? Knowing your strengths and weaknesses will ensure I am best able to help you during your time here."

She could see the sense of that. And there was something about him that urged her to trust. So Irina sat and watched him gently tend her scars as she filled him in on any details she thought relevant.

---

The first time she sought him out for dancing lessons, it took her almost the whole day to find time and courage. She knew it was a weakness, with her upbringing and reclusive last few years. That didn't make it any easier, asking someone for help with something that would force them into close proximity.

To her relief, Jasper was amenable, and didn't make a big fuss about it. No scolding about her lack of grace, no presumptions, simply quiet unflinching support. He counted out the timing, showed her where and when to step, encouraged through difficult places. His hands maintained a light grip on hers throughout, guiding rather than grasping, and Irina found herself rather proud when they finished and he praised her progress.

She could do this. She was improving and had someone who believed in her.

"Thank you," she said to Jasper afterward as he tended to her wrists, her voice just above a murmur.

"Of course, Lady Irina," he replied, eyes on his task. "Always happy to help."

--

"What do you see yourself accomplishing?"

Even three days after hearing the derisive words from the Matchmaker, they still echoed in Irina's head. The 'mad and withered' girl from Hise, burned, broken, hiding her flaws with long hair and modest clothes. Largely here to get out from under her father's watchful eye.

She stared out the window as she mulled it over, trying to find an answer that fit and would be satisfactory. She sensed a presence behind her more than hearing someone approach. Only one person with access to her chambers was so quiet. "Jasper, do you think there's a point to me being here?"

"Of course," he said, continuing after a moment's pause, "Any who qualify for the delegations have skill and virtues that would be... attractive to some. It's a matter of knowing how best to utilize your skills and finding the one who will most appreciate them." He cleared his throat faintly. "It is time to practice dance some more, my lady."

Shaking off her melancholic thoughts for the moment, Irina turned away from the window to join him. "Of course. Thank you for your continued efforts in this regard."

"It's my duty as your butler," Jasper said smoothly. "I'm always happy to help, Lady Irina." He guided her hands into position. "Today, we start like this..."

--

By the third week, both her wrists and her dancing showed drastic improvement. Given both were thanks to the same person, she found herself looking forward to any time they had together at least as much as time spent with her fellow delegates.

Today, as they danced, Irina felt the confidence in her steps, keeping time perfectly, her hands sure and steady in Jasper's. Her heart raced, surely from the exertion of the past hour and not the approving tilt to Jasper's lips. But it didn't slow when they were done. If anything his half-acceptance, half deflection of her thanks made it speed up.

She wanted to find an excuse to linger, she realized. To stay here with him, rather than attend... whatever she had agreed to for the afternoon. But no. That would defeat the purpose. That wasn't why she was here. Was it? Irina shook herself out of her contemplations, thanked Jasper again, and made herself stride from the room, hopefully in the correct direction.

---

Jasper was, as always, careful and focused as he smoothed the healing salve onto her wrists. He never treat it otherwise, but this time... this time he seemed to be lingering. And the long, light strokes had Irina's pulse up almost to the heights of dancing.

She hoped he didn't notice.

His thumb slowed even further as it circled the end of one scar.

He'd probably noticed.

Maybe that wasn't the worst thing.

Jasper didn't say anything about the fluttering pulse, instead finishing his task.

Irina took a breath that shook more than she expected. "Thank you, Jasper."

It was an extra heartbeat before he raised his head, violet eyes inscrutable. "Of course, Lady Irina. Always happy to help."

---

The rumors abounded, as she'd known they would. Despite having several interested suitors--"even with her background"--Irina had elected not to pursue a romance.

At least not one sanctioned by the Matchmaker. Not one that would stabilize a trade partnership or any benefit to her nation.

She couldn't. Not when any time she thought of them the image was replaced by silver hair and purple eyes and remembered delicacy on her behalf. The way her heart lurched when they danced for practice. His gentle touch tending her wrists, as he was now.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She wasn't supposed to fall for one of her staff. She wasn't supposed to...

Irina swallowed hard, pushing away the thoughts. "Jasper?"

His thumb had slowed almost to a caress over her pulse point. He silently cocked his head up to meet her gaze, hands going still.

"I wanted..." She wanted to look down at her lap; this was not a confession she'd ever made, how did people do this? "I wanted to... let you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me. The dance lessons, your advice, looking into the horse incident, helping with this."

Jasper nodded slowly and appeared to be gathering his thoughts. Trying to maintain his demeanor? "It is no trouble, I- Lady Irina." One of his thumbs swept across the inside of her wrist. Not to spread salve or smooth bandages back in place. Just for the touch. "I'm always happy to help."

---

A few short weeks ago, Irina wouldn't have mustered the curiosity to follow up a mysterious note, let alone one as vague as this. But the Summit had changed her. Her friendship and acceptance by other delegates awakened something too-long dormant in her.

And so she went. Senses on alert for a trap, instincts prickling at the darkened theatre storeroom. Those same instincts had her lunging aside from them creaking, collapsing set piece. Not thinking, not deliberating, just move.

She stood in the thunderous silence, breath coming fast as she stared at the wreckage.

That would have killed me.

Someone was trying to--

I should be dead.

She thought she heard someone call her name from far away, but she couldn't make her voice work to respond.

She should be dead, but something gut-deep and instinctual hadn't wanted that. Had saved her. Had wanted her to live. What had changed?

"--rina." The voice was at her elbow, Jasper's expression void of its usual calm. "Are you alright?" It was not an inquiry, like after the riding incident.

It was nearly a demand. Fervent and focused as he reached for her arm.

The second his hand made contact, everything hit her and Irina shook like a leaf, collapsing against him. Jasper didn't hesitate, one arm around her shoulders, the other sliding behind her knees to scoop her up.

"I will find who did this," he murmured against her hair as he carried her back to her room. Irina curled her hand in the lapel of his jacket and his grip tightened in response. "They won't get another chance for... this."

He was furious. Quiet, reserved, proper Jasper was furious on her behalf. And Irina believed him--whoever this mysterious would-be assassin was, they had no idea what was coming.

Her senses had partly returned by the time they reached her room. The silence spoke to Ria and Sayra's absence, so that may have emboldened her.

Before Jasper set her down on the bed, Irina raised her head enough to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Jasper," she said softly when he froze. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Of course, Irina." His hand stroke soothingly over her hair. "I'm always happy to help."