Bellavarn rubbed his eyes. He currently sat at his desk flipping through a compact picture book that was supposed to help him with a personal project, except illustrations were so misconstrued that he wanted to find the artist and feed them the preciously expensive paper they so carelessly wasted.
"You're face will get stuck like that."
Bellavarn stopped shaking the book upside down in hopes proper instructions would fall out. Becoming conscious of the unappealing glower painted across his face, Bellavarn waved at Kerv lying on the couch nearby.
"My face reflects this author's ability. Weren't you taking a nap?"
Kerv moved the pillow off his face to talk without being muffled.
"I was. I slept for a good two hours. Nothing has happened."
Bellavarn glanced outside. The sky was overcast with snow trickling down. Unable to tell the true time, Belllavarn stretched his back as he retorted.
"Isn't it a good thing you have nothing to do? Job well done. No worrying like before."
"I still have to make sure you sleep and don't ruin your eyes."
Bellavarn prevented himself from rubbing his eyes again. It was true he was straining his eyesight. Now that the topic was brought up... did he need glasses? They weren't widespread within the Kingdom but were quite common elsewhere. Straining his eyes, he picked up the picture book and held it at arm's length.
He played with it for a little while, moving the book slowly forward and backward, checking if it was still legible. He noticed to his horror that as it got closer, everything became mush.
I'm going to need some reading lenses made...
They were probably astronomically expensive to get them right. He could just get magically enchanted glasses. But then, what about all the artisans and glassworkers who spent hours bent over, making them perfect and tailor-made. Would he be saving them trouble or running them out of business? Would it not be the same if he refused to hire an enchanter? Maybe he should just hire both and create something amazing. He was the son of a Duke with virtually limitless finances, after all. Besides, reading was nearly all he was doing lately. Splurging on himself wasn't a bad idea. Not to mention...
"Sir? You called for me?"
Broken out of his stupor, Bellavarn saw a thin figure standing in the doorway. He had left it open, as planned.
"Ah, yes. I was waiting for you, wasn't I? You are one of the gardeners, yes?"
"Yes, sir. Wendle is my name."
Smiling widely and thankful that Kerv played dead, Bellavarn pulled out a chair.
"Please, take a seat, Wendle."
Wendle was dressed in overalls with thick layers underneath. It still being winter was an issue for a gardener in particular. The duties were entirely different from the Spring or Summer. Though, the ones employed by the Sallows were all experienced in working with cold weather.
Sitting down gingerly, the balding man looked up at the young lord.
"Do you know why I have asked you here?"
"No, sir. I don't. Have I done something wrong?"
The older gardener was meeker than Parcy. Bellavarn frowned a bit at how he was perceived. Whether it was Wendle's natural demeanor or a product of Bellavarn's image was unknown but it still stung a bit.
"Not at all, Wendle. I just realized I hadn't taken the time to talk with the staff. I was hoping to learn a thing or two about everyone. Did I pull you away from your work?"
"Oh. Ah, no sir. No, my duties have lessened during the Winter but things will be picking back up soon enough."
"Good, good. I appreciate your work. The inner garden was full of life the last time I visited.
"You're too kind, sir. Too kind. "
Bellavarn smiled a bit at Wendle's sheepish nature.
"Now. I'd like you to tell me three things about yourself..."
=
"Three things?"
"Yes, Lannie. Three things. They could be anything."
A petite maid with calloused hands sat in the chair.
"I'm not sure. Is there anything specific you want to know?"
"How about your family? Do you have any siblings? What about your parents?"
Lannie bobbed her head while twirling her fingers.
"I have an older brother who is employed as a guard here. It is just us two after our parents passed."
Bellavarn turned appropriately somber. He remembered his parents. Standing over their graves while holding a wine bottle. Unable to tell if it was wine falling on their graves or his tears.
Shaking away the unwanted memory, he spoke more softly.
"I am sorry to hear that. Do they have a plot you can visit?"
"Mhm. I visit and bring fresh flowers every week, but it has been difficult to pay for them since they are out of season."
Lannie colored and quickly waved her hands, flustered about mentioning her salary. Bellavarn cut her worries off.
"Don't worry. We can easily order fresh flowers. Do your parents have any preferences? We can ask Wendle where we can find some Lillies. I can ask him to set aside a plot if you have something specific in mind."
"Would you really? I mean, you don't have to do that. It's not like they'll miss fresh flowers."
Bellavarn threw up his hands.
"Nonsense. They will miss your company. Take time off every Weekend to visit. Tell your brother he can take off as well as long as nothing is pressing. You can go together."
Lannie's eyes were like saucers. Was this the lord she served? What about all the nasty rumors? She was scared stiff coming into this meeting, afraid he would take a liking to her as well. But... Why were his eyes so kind? So full of understanding?
Why did it seem like he knew what it was like to lose parents?
=
"Three things? Hm. I enjoy cooking deserts. Specifically tarts. My children light up whenever I bring extras home."
"Oh, you have children, Misses Vale?"
"Six of 'em. The oldest is only 12."
"Haha, you must be blessed to have so many loving children."
"They can be little rascals, though. 'Specially the little ones..."
=
Ester entered the study. Bellavarn greeted her with a smile and motioned for her to have a seat.
Ester already prepared the three things about herself. She enjoyed knitting, liked hair accessories, and would rather not spend too much time in the sun as she tended to overheat. She heard the word going around that the young master was choosing employees at random to meet. Asking them silly questions in the hopes of getting on their good side.
None of it mattered. Ester remembered the day clearly. Melody in dire condition—the look of terror in the girl's eyes. Ester had gotten to know Melody. She was hardworking and would always return from serving the young master with a smile on her face. For him to do such a dastardly thing to her friend...
It took everything for her not to request a transfer to serve another household. How could the others work under someone so... so... vile?
"I believe I've seen you around, haven't I. Your name starts with a vowel... A? No. The letter E?"
"My name is Ester, young master."
She bowed her head, wanting the charade to be over with.
"Ester. Yes. Sorry. I am still trying to learn everyone's names. I will make sure to remember your name in the future."
Yuck. Hearing her name on such foul lips sickened her. She would put in for that transfer after all. Just the sight of him made her ill. Just ask your stupid questions so I can leave.
"Are you skilled at knitting, by chance?"
What? Did he ask the other maids about her?
"It is a hobby of mine, yes."
"Great! I was hoping to have someone help me learn. I wanted to create something simple."
She wanted her to teach him to knit? That wasn't something young lords did. What about the answers she prepared? Did he want a replacement tutor after Melody ran away?
Ester's mind swam with horrible images of Bellavarn trying to get closer. Touching her shoulder and breathing down her neck. She suppressed a shiver.
"You want to learn to knit, young master? Why not hire a tutor instead of asking a maid?"
"Ah, I wanted to keep it a secret from Father and Mother..."
Oh no. It's all true.
Bellavarn was looking through a book and scratching the back of his head.
"It is incredibly embarrassing to ask this. I don't have a sister who would show me or could take up the task. But I was hoping to be able to teach myself so that I can knit a blanket."
Bellavarn turned his book around and propped it up, pointing to it.
"This here. The illustration doesn't show it correctly, and I keep pricking my fingers."
Ester was bewildered as she stared at a series of crude illustrations. The hands were poorly drawn, and the needle's direction was undeterminable from the artist's rendering.
Young Lord Bellavarn was trying to teach himself to knit? Now that she looked. The book was slim, like a children's book. Yet, he still didn't understand?
Glancing off to the side, she finally noticed a small bundle of blue yarn sitting on the desk. Next to it is an object that can only be described as a tumor-like mass, a needle sticking straight out like a planted flag.
How had she missed that previously?
"What are you trying to make? Just a blanket?"
Bellavarn nodded his head multiple times while holding a glum expression.
"Exactly. I want to create a blanket for my sister... or brother, whenever they arrive. Babies are usually wrapped in blankets, right?"
"Yes... They usually are."
Ester gave Bellavarn the most bizarre look. He didn't seem to notice.
"The needle keeps getting looped and caught. I don't even know which direction I am supposed to go in. Do I repeat the knots indefinitely? When do I turn? I also wasn't sure if the color would matter. Girls usually prefer lighter colors. I want to make a navy-blue blanket in case it was a boy, but I also wanted to make a second lavender one for the eventuality of it being a girl..."
Ester blinked. Then... continued blinking. Bellavarn continued rambling.
Who... Who was this?
The image before Yerria, of a near-adult man floundering while he tried to explain his shortcomings, failings, then attempting to continue knitting into the mass of wrinkled yarn, was all completely at odds with her previous vision.
The man before her was like a father gushing over a newborn. Except, Bellavarn was an older brother who didn't even have a sibling yet. And he wanted to learn a woman's skill? Not sword fighting or magic? ...He wanted to learn knitting? To make a blanket, no, TWO blankets? Learn from her?
Ester clasped her head as her thoughts whirled.
"...Ester? Are you alright? Was I talking too fast? I can slow down and show you what I have learned in a more controlled manner..."
More talking.
"...Ow. Again. See? Always happens..."
Ester could feel a migraine conducting a siege.
"Almost got it. Just curve around here and loop there..."
She had enough.
"Stop. Stop it! Give me that. You are doing it all wrong."
Ester snatched the materials in frustration. Getting it out of sinister hands.
"Look, you hold the needle like this. Not with your entire fist! You take only the edge of yarn. Not a bundle full. Throw that miserable creation away and pass me-"
Bellavarn smiled broadly. Oohing and Aahing. Internally he pumped a fist.
=
"Checkers, sir?"
"I never took the time to play. I heard it is simple to learn. Do you have time for a game, guardsman Jeral?"
=
"What do you think of rain, Denice?"
"Rain? I miss it after all the snow. But it also feels dreary during autumn."
"Summer showers are the best, though, aren't they?"
"Yes, sir. On a hot day and the rain turns the air cool."
"Watching it pelt against glass window rhythmically."
"All while enjoying a cup of tea..."
=
"Is it okay for me to eat these, master Bellavarn?"
Bellavarn munched on a cream tart as he whispered conspiratorially to Kyle.
"Please. Help me hide the evidence. Misses Vale will scold me if I come back with extras. Her children got stomach aches the last time I couldn't finish these. Maybe share some with the others on your shift?"
=
"You have terrible luck at dice, young master."
Bellavarn eyed the toothy guard as he grabbed the dice and cup.
"I'll win. I bet you twenty tarts this time!"
Potter shrugged his shoulders.
"It's your loss, young master.
=
"Can you help me organize these for me?"
"The books, young master?"
"Yes. I had too many tarts and bumped into the shelf. I could use a hand, Cynthia."
"Of course, master Bellavarn."
Kerv watched from the couch as Bellavarn received assistance from a long-legged maid in reorganizing the shelf. It had actually been Kerv who knocked over the shelf. Kerv was attempting to get a rise out of the young master for all the times he has been neglected, laying about in the study while Bellavarn worked or chatting with people other than him. Instead of being yelled at, the evil Bellavarn smiled and asked him to bring another staff member.
"Tch."
Kerv wasn't jealous. He wasn't. He was proud of Bellavarn for being so outgoing and how he took the initiative. It was just disappointing that Kerv was practically useless right now. A forgotten side piece.
"Don't just sit there, Kerv. Help us pick up these books."
Kerv flinched. With a long exasperated sigh that made the maid titter, he got up.
All right... Maybe not. Kerv wasn't completely forgotten.