lysander millaray (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crestfelled) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
castlenim2022-08-08 09:45 pm
crestfelled) wrote in castlenim2022-08-08 09:45 pm
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[That morning, Lysander Millaray woke up with a profound sense of deja vu. It left as quickly as it came, but for a moment, he could have sworn he should be waking up under different circumstances entirely, and the sights and sounds of the estate's morning should be only in his memory.
What a strange dream would have prompted such a thing?
Regardless, it's not as though he can lay around and ponder it. The clockwork of the kingdom ticks on, and unfortunately, he is a cog within it. Running a marquessate, running the manor, checking up on his nephew, making sure the prince doesn't make his life miserable...well, more miserable, that is. He wishes, sometimes, he could tell every bright-eyed upstart who can barely wield a sword that their dreams of heroism aren't worth it even if they can be achieved. All it had ever done for Lysander is make his "retirement" a mire of politics.
Speaking of which...the servant he just bid to enter his study is looking far too unsettled for his message to be anything routine.
Your wife is asking to see you he says, finally. She says it's urgent.
Ah. Yes. His wife in name only. He couldn't escape this particular leash the prince decided to fasten on him. Even if, truth be told, he didn't particularly feel much one way or another about the rumors about her (he'd be hypocritical if he did, whether or not he'd taken lives during a war), he couldn't really escape the fact she's a means to keep him in his place. For all he knows, she has a deal with the prince herself.
Their relationship can't even be called that, as the most they interact is by passing each other in the halls and attending any social functions neither of them can get out of. Lysander prefers it this way. And until now, he thought she did as well. Maybe it is something particularly important, then.]
...let her in.
What a strange dream would have prompted such a thing?
Regardless, it's not as though he can lay around and ponder it. The clockwork of the kingdom ticks on, and unfortunately, he is a cog within it. Running a marquessate, running the manor, checking up on his nephew, making sure the prince doesn't make his life miserable...well, more miserable, that is. He wishes, sometimes, he could tell every bright-eyed upstart who can barely wield a sword that their dreams of heroism aren't worth it even if they can be achieved. All it had ever done for Lysander is make his "retirement" a mire of politics.
Speaking of which...the servant he just bid to enter his study is looking far too unsettled for his message to be anything routine.
Your wife is asking to see you he says, finally. She says it's urgent.
Ah. Yes. His wife in name only. He couldn't escape this particular leash the prince decided to fasten on him. Even if, truth be told, he didn't particularly feel much one way or another about the rumors about her (he'd be hypocritical if he did, whether or not he'd taken lives during a war), he couldn't really escape the fact she's a means to keep him in his place. For all he knows, she has a deal with the prince herself.
Their relationship can't even be called that, as the most they interact is by passing each other in the halls and attending any social functions neither of them can get out of. Lysander prefers it this way. And until now, he thought she did as well. Maybe it is something particularly important, then.]
...let her in.
no subject
No. Calytrix Millaray enters the study with her head held high, her eyes bright and cool. She looks different for today, with a quick glance showing she has her her pink hair pulled back into a high ponytail instead of the intricate updos she’s been forcing herself to wear since her marriage to Miliaray.
(She would have preferred a braid, tight enough to keep strands from flying, but she was never good at it and she always found herself turning to her sister for help and now she can’t because—)
Once she’s at a respectable distance of the desk, she gives a curtsy, more fluid and graceful than the past attempts she made before. ]
Good afternoon, husband. I hope you’re well.
[ It’s… Bizarre, speaking to this man, addressing him with a title she never used with him in their past life together. It comes off as stilted still but Calytrix can say it with more confidence now, now that she realizes that he never treated her poorly during their time together
Their marriage may have been, at best tepid and at worst, cold, it wasn’t a miserable marriage where she was hurt or deprived of anything that was reasonable of both her station and her status as his spouse. Now looking back, Calytrix realizes she’s lucky to have been hauled over to him despite the near tears she was in during their wedding ceremony, then angered and hurt to be shuttled off so soon after her sister’s mysterious ‘passing’.
(Passing. Acting like how she was murdered was a passing—)
The knowledge is why she’s taking a gamble when she makes her request to him: ] I would like the opportunity to train with the knights if one is willing to spare their time to assist me on this.
[ She woke up with information and memories from before still fresh in her mind, things she’ll use to her advantage to figure out why her sister was murdered, why she was blamed, and, in the end, they had to kill her despite already sullying her reputation beyond repair.
And the first step to all of that? Not letting them have a chance to kill her again. At least not without a fight.
… Calytrix just has to hope he won’t ask too many questions. ]
(no subject)