#godbvrns

the whispers about house blackwood had reach him long before they were called to the capital . assertions in the guise of whispers , that is . a prestigious bloodline with roots buried deep into the soils of westeros itself . his mind began weaving its plans , a forged fateful encounter must take shape , and only an unsuspecting circumstance is necessary for the masterplan . and as the faithful insist at the presence of sheer luck , the gods provide . the perfect moment took a while , but it arrived , not with luck , not with black magic that the blackwoods allegedly dabble with , but with a royal summon . ❝ i don't believe we had the pleasure of an introduction , lord blackwood . ❞ meeting and introductions are the only goals , mimic apparitions in their fleeting state , a gust of wind brushing on cheeks , a whiff of dulcet musk . ❝ unfortunate that it had to be in this time of mourning . ❞ his cordial reputation is a stronghold , quick to dispel suspicions . nothing out of the ordinary with the youngest son of lord caspor reyne working a room , as he does in most gatherings .

This was why she normally kept Scout with her. When they were together, at least, she was still present and could maneuver back into conversation without losing track completely. Now she did not know how long she was away, nor whether her brother had spoken. “Well,” she tried to carry on as if the pause was intentional, “be creative. As long as he wishes he never left home.”