[Ridge]
"I must admit," The Marquess folds his hands in contemplation, "I am surprised the Viscount would drop my name on this."
"Oh?" I ask.
"I don't have any exponential fighting forces, the only reason I can think of is financial support. Which, I'm willing to provide..."
"But?" Kadeeth pipes up, digging for the fine print.
Marquess Nessmore watches us in thought for a second before noticing my leg. He managed to ignore the bandages around my head when he first saw us, but the sight of the wrapping around the entire bottom half of my right leg draws a long sigh from his thin pressed lips.
"I will need a bit of time to think this over. I hope you will understand. Why don't you stay here for the night? I'll have rooms prepared, and we can discuss finality tomorrow morning." He inclines his head, asking out of politeness, but not giving any real room for negotiation.
I nod and he stands. His perfect posture taking care of any wrinkles in his clothes that formed while he was sitting. He certainly dresses like he has money. Soft combinations of silk and velvet hug his curves.
"Thank you for your time, Marquess Nessmore." Raforn helps me stand.
"It's my pleasure. You're working on a noble cause, I'll aid you in whatever way I determine I can." He adds, "And, you may address me as Marquess Heidi. I prefer my first name, Marquess Nessmore was my father." He walks out of the drawing room, ordering his butler to find medical supplies for our Chef.
Kadeeth takes over supporting me while Raforn runs after him to clear up the misunderstanding Sileena or Kadeeth have no doubt caused. I make Kadeeth help me to the window. That same vomit yellow color appears again in the form of drapes. All that money and he can't afford better decor, is this really his taste?
The Marquess is just a kid, probably a few years younger than me. That must be why I don't remember him from any parties, he hasn't even made his debut into society yet. He took over the March when his father passed away due to an illness. He must have been working hard ever since to secure his place among the Nobility.
It's hard for a kid with no backing to inherit their title and maintain their power. Usually their relatives jump at the chance to step in for them until they get older, all the while grooming them into little puppets. The exhaustion on Marquess Heidi's face must be the result of fighting for his independence.
There are no traces of a lady of the house, his mother, or any maternal grandparents. So he could only have avoided a proxy by proving himself able to run the March himself. I can only imagine how fast he had to grow up.
Through the window I can see Lady Glissa throwing a fit by the front gates. The Marquess exits the building and approaches her. He says something to the guards and they immediately unlock the gate, to which she rushes through and clings back onto him. I will give him this, he's managed to secure an impressive hold over his employees.
"She covets her future position as Marchioness, obviously paranoid about losing it, and he likes having positive attention for once." Kadeeth observes. I look back down at the couple, trying to read their minds. If only.
"I think she's in love, but he acts so indifferent that she's scared he'll leave her, since she's of a lower station than him." I look harder, which doesn't help, "And he loves her too but doesn't have the liberty of being able to show it. Otherwise it will be seen as a childish distraction and used against him."
Kadeeth chuckles, "Impressive. I still like mine better." I roll my eyes.
"Yours is depressing."
"But it's much more realistic." He argues with a grin. I turn away from the window.
"Whatever, we have a lot to talk about. I want to go to the garden." I try to start walking out of the room but Kadeeth won't budge.
"No way. You shouldn't even be walking this much. Actually, how are you even standing right now?" He rejects my request.
"Well it's either magic or sheer willpower, either way I need some fresh air." I try to move us again but he remains rooted in place.
"You better be careful talking like that here. C'mon, let's just sit in here for a while." He tries to turn us around towards the couches again, but this time it's my turn not to move.
I smirk, "Why? Do I look like a witch to you?" I tease, flicking him in the forehead.
"Oh yeah, you're the perfect picture of an evil hag." My elbow buries itself in his ribcage.
"If you don't take me to the garden after that I'll sue." I deadpan.
He laughs between dramatically trying to catch his breath. I definitely didn't knock the wind out of him. I stick out my injured leg and fall forwards. Just as I'm about to land on it he catches me, lifting my weight at the last second.
"OKAY, okay. Oh my gosh, Ridge. Don't joke like that, you'll hurt yourself more." He frets, readjusting his height.
"The garden, then?" I ask victoriously.
He sighs, "Yeah, the garden."
~*~
The "garden" at the Marquess's estate is actually a giant greenhouse with beautiful paths lined in colorful stones. Flowers and many thorny plants grow in well tamed flower beds. Butterflies and other insects have taken up shelter here from the oncoming cold weather.
I wondered before why Nymour would start a war right before winter, but I suppose that makes sense now. Dwecia is one of the northernmost kingdoms of Dim. Since Dwecia's large population will make up most of the invasion's human forces, it checks out that they would prefer to fight in conditions they're familiar with.
Our winters are nothing compared to the storms of the north, but they're still harsh. I'm sure they'll be much more comfortable crushing their enemies under the snowfall of a blizzard.
For now though, the Marquess's greenhouse is abundant with summer-seasonal plant life. We'll be in trouble if we don't prepare our rebellion before the fragile flora withers up.