#tobiaskills

“I do a fair share of service for my good… something tells me that isn’t a foreign concept to you,” Tobias kicked a chunk of charred wood aside, boots tromping down through leaves to examine the wreckage of what previously stood as a pleasant woodland cottage, burned to a rather ruinous crisp. The burly man may have done quite a few grotesque things in his life–on a daily basis–but, at least he was honest about it. Not like the sideways smiles of the cutthroats at court, who could be your closest ally at one moment, and butcher you with a carving knife the next. At least he’d face someone with the knife. Better an honest death than one soiled with too many untied strings, right?

   Thick fingers dug through ash, pulling forth a ring. One suited for a dainty finger, surely. He rubbed the jewelry against his trousers, giving the blackened gem a dull shine, before extending it to her with a grin, “Here, have this. Jewelry is a popular band-aid for you women, isn’t it? Something your husbands give you after he’s been fucking a milk maid in the stables.”

It wasn't the impunity that had marked her, for this type of male derision prevailed in both higher and lower ranks, common to all the pedestals or pillars of court. But the presumption that she was still married, uttered in a jibe all the more, left the duchess reeling. She touched the front side of her corset, with fingers evenly spread, as if her palm could secure her breathing's steadiness once again. Through tightrope moves she pivoted back from the man. A remnant slitted into Alianore's memory: the first time Edward had posed himself before her, tongue-tied, cold sweats misting his skin, and confessed a mistress. And her winterweed laughter, tinkling on both of them like ease and forgiveness. Beloved husband, I would not care if she was Isolda herself , she had soothed, his head cradled at her chest like a son's. Make merry, treat her well, only remember your name is no longer yours to give, but belongs to our children. And he had always kept his word, and the offsprings which had been bore had a place in her household more cherished than any maid's. No; she had never needed trinkets and he had never hid in stables. What they had was vaulted in stone itself.