Minutes pass as silence permeates the room. Joanne is taking her time getting comfortable, taking off her silky gloves though not picking a cookie to munch on. Now that her hands are visible, I notice that the nails, while a bit shorter than Carlyanne's, are in no way any less colorful. In a way, I'm suddenly confronted with the possibility that those might also be sharp and be ready for some scratch marks or two if this conversation goes awry.
Long nails are something I definitely won't miss after already filing and cleaning my nails just yesterday night. I don't have the mind or patience to keep a nail that long without chipping it, and I suppose, that says something about Joanne that's able to keep hers as pristine as a noble lady should.
It's not until a soft little 'ding!' comes from the teakettle that Sieghart moves, taking the iron kettle off the cart to pour into the ceramic teapot in an efficient and graceful move, then closes the top; stepping back once more in silence like some professionally trained waiter for the royal family or, I guess he is a professionally trained waiter for an important family huh? That's never going to stop being weird to me for a long, long while.
Steam rises from the drink, filling the area around the table with the scent of herbs and flower notes that I can't name. It's only then that the woman across me finally opens her mouth again, her words sharp as her glares stab rather than slice through. Her body sits poised, straight, as if ready to move if I ever so slightly move.
"What are you planning?"
"I have no knowledge of what you're talking about."
"Do not," Joanne hisses through her gritted teeth, "assume that I am stupid enough to let you play while not knowing the consequences, Carlyanne. Do not make me spell it."
"I never said that." I cocks my head to the side, trying to project every bit of genuine curiosity in my reply as I smile back at her twitching eyebrows. "And I will repeat, again and with honesty, that I don't know what you are demanding out of me."
"So, spell it."
Joanne sits back, her eyes never leaving me, glaring daggers as she angrily takes a bite of the cookies to soothe herself and continues with a calmer voice, "Why are you inviting all of us to hunt together?"
Shit. That's what this is snowballing into?! What the fuck??? What the hell is this hunt and why are you looking so mad about it?? What the fuck, Theo?! "Seems like the kind of event that will bring the family together."
"Hah!" Joanne let a dry laugh spill over the air as her smile turns condescending and her eyes became sharper. "Only you and that madman will think that."
"You are free to decline," I say, absolutely knowing nothing about what fucking hole I've just found myself into. "It is an invitation."
"Has it ever only been an invitation with you?"
"This one is."
"I don't believe you."
"Then don't," I take another sip of the water to quickly rinse out the taste of medicine still lingering on my gums, bleh. "But the offer to decline remains."
Joanne eyes me with a heavy amount of visible skepticism which, fair, she has all the right to do so 'cause I'm doing the same thing back since I can't read her goddamn mind to know whatever hellish scheme she thinks that I'm concocting.
Time passes once more, in very tepid silence, until Sieghart once again moves to pour the tea into Joanne's cup, and only her cup, before moving back into his waiter position again. That does make her look at me with more suspicion, though I decide to address it before she can.
"Doctor's orders, no tea until I'm fully recovered."
"Is that so?" Joanne puts the cup out of reach as if it's suddenly filled with poisonous acid. She still hasn't touched the cookies, too. I have a feeling that they'll remain untouched, hope Ina doesn't mind some. "Does your doctor also say you need a new brain? Since this isn't very much like how you'd act."
!!!
The amount of relief that flooded my system in that instant is immeasurable. The way that my shoulders almost sag as I hear that accusation is no joke, they might have touched the desk if I let them droop as willed. A smile comes to my lips almost naturally as I, for the first time in this very tense meeting, let an honest-to-god giggle.
"He hasn't, but the implication is there."
Joanne's gaze turns from distrust, to surprise, to anger in a matter of seconds. Those wine-colored eyes shake in a way that I only ever saw on someone that's about to cry– ah fuck, she's not going to make a scene, is she?
"What is wrong with you?"
Her voice is pure concern, worry, and interestingly, dosed with a tinge of fear in the way she trembles a bit by the end. It's a genuine one, that fear, if the look on her shaking, shrinking pupils is anything to go by.
Now, while I can't figure out the reason why, the urge to shrug at this point is very strong, but I manage to hold back by only giving her the same smile I've maintained this entire time. "Nothing is wrong, I'm just sick."
"Sickness doesn't change the way you behave, it never did so before." She delivers the sentence with confidence. Truth as she knows it. I'm tempted to shatter that outlook, now that I know she cared.
"Then perhaps what I'm sick of is not my weak body."
"I'VE TOLD YOU TO STOP TREATING ME LIKE I'M STUPID!"
Joanne rises from her seat, face red with anger, sending the chair to clutter on the floor with the ferocity of a needle in a silent conference room. The impact sound rings sharp, though no sharper than the color that rests on her body as the sun hits the glass panes behind me ever so angled that prismatic colors of the rainbow belt across her pastel blue-almost-white dress.
Anger has no business being this pretty. I stand by that, even as she's now screaming to my face with the full force of fury I don't deserve. The Hortensia genes are fucked up.
"I know it, you're trying to make me angry, aren't you? Trying to bait me to gain more attention, as if you don't have enough of them already?! Trying to pull me down to your level, to make sure your prince has no more competition??!"
Joanne's demeanor steels into something of a cold, detached anger despite her quivering voice that hints she's on the verge of bawling. "I've had enough of your childish game, Carlyanne, it's about time you grow up like the rest of us!!"
"Think however you wish to, Joanne," I reply with the ease of someone who can't be bothered to care, the very kindling flame starts to burn hotter as long this woman stands above, looking down with the eyes of someone afraid of insects. Disgusted, fearful, yet at the same time, can't afford to look away. Not the eyes of someone who will listen to anything reasonable. "the only thing happening right now is you embarrassing yourself."
"!!"
Joanne let out a noise that's a half-choked scream, half whine, as her face becomes completely red when she realizes she was not alone with me in this room. Sieghart, bless his heart, stands still and looks as if nothing unusual is happening. He's probably used to this, based on his body language of not giving a single fuck. Or maybe he just doesn't care, in which case, mood. I also want to leave this awkward situation but can't since I'm the one who caused it!!!
Anyway, that call-out got Joanne out of her head, so I'll try communicating again. "If we're done with the interrogation, you may sit back down. I have things to ask of you."
Joanne looks at me, and turns to Sieghart who is retrieving the fallen chair, contemplating, then finally, sitting back down showing very clear reluctance on her face as her seat gets pushed for her while Sieghart is at it. "What is it?"
Straight to the point huh? I can work with that. "Can you ride a horse?"
"Pfft, what kind of question is that? I'm not you!" Her voice sounds so proud as she answers, though it immediately falters when I'm not reacting to her attempt to bait me. "Yes, I can ride the horse. Is this about the hunt?"
"What else? You came barging into my room about it too." I utter without a single emotion while digesting the important fact that Carlyanne won't be able to help me with the horses. Fuck, why did Theo invite someone who can't fucking ride??! "Where do you get your riding clothes?"
Joanne eyes me like I'm possessed by a ghost (oh the irony) but answers anyway, "I have them made, by my personal tailors. What, have you grown tired of your little pet?"
"Not really. Just looking for some… alternative style." the excuse feels a bit more solid than the other three that flit through my head right now. That sounds vain enough right? "If it's alright with you, can you introduce them to me? I don't have any riding clothes."
"Why would you even.." Joanne pauses and sighs, the kind that might take your lifespan away as you exhale the breath, kind of exhale. "Fine. You owe me one for this."
"Do you also know anyone who makes good fans? Hand fans, nothing too fancy will do."
"Hah, greedy, aren't you?" Joanne sounds ticked by this, but I can only suppress the urge to shrug once again and say, "I already owe you for the clothes, might as well."
"… So you've finally gone insane, I understand now." Joanne, who definitely had come to her own conclusion about this situation, let out a sigh that I think counts as a relief. "Maybe this is for the better, considering that the Summer Social Season is about to come, if you remain so well-behaved I'm sure your ban will be lifted before next spring even arrives."
Summer Social Season.. sounds incredibly familiar to me but I'm not coming up with anything at the moment. From the name, it might imply the season where nobles are throwing parties although, what's this about Carlyanne getting banned? Not that I'm surprised that she did, but the context??
Unfortunately, I can't think much of anything on how to segue to that question, and the medicine's sleeping side effects are already kicking in anyway so it's about time to wrap up this meeting anyway. "Is there anything that you need from me, dear sister?" I do my best to get that out before hiding my yawn with both hands faintly smelling like cookies and sugar.
Joanne seems to remember that she's the one who asked for this meeting to happen and jolts momentarily, calming herself right after with a poorly disguised huff. "No, I suppose it is best we wrap this up today, thank you for having me today."
Of course, in the moment where nothing happens, something occurs.
It's something simple, really, almost a bit silly to happen but it happens anyway. Perhaps Joanne just forgot that her seating arrangement is no longer so far from the table since the seat gets pushed for her, or Sieghart had pushed her seat a bit too far in, but as soon as she tries to leave before Sieghart is ready to pull the chair for her, it ends in a disastrous situation where the table clatters and the teapot of all things, tips and sprays the tea straight to my side.
Now, even at this point, I'm pretty sure that the teapot shouldn't be so hot anymore, it's been steeping for quite some time on the table. At most, the water will be lukewarm, nothing that I can't handle.
But my instinct is screaming otherwise, to jump back, and I get it when I see that the tea on Joanne's cup somehow still steaming despite being left in the open for so long and have to entertain the possibility that maybe, the one left in the pot too, is still hot.
Best case scenario, it's going for my lap, and, worse outcome, I get some sprayed on my torso. There's no way it can reach as far as my face aside from a few droplets—
"Bang!"
I don't even get a moment to jump back because Sieghart, who is halfway between me and Joanne, leaps so quickly to put himself between me and the liquid heat that he also kind of traps me underneath his body.
The liquid is hot, for sure, because the man hisses as I hear the teapot clatter, shatter, and the liquid splashing against the marble floor. I get a good look at Sieghart's brows furrows and him clenching his jaw before I push him aside to look at the damage and yep, there it is, his clothed back is steaming what the fuck..!?
My sleepiness flew away in droves and what remains is only anger.
"I-I'm," Joanne stammers when she finally gets her voice back, eyes darting between me and the crumpled man on the floor, "I didn't mean to-"
"I know." I manage to say instead of cursing her, she's not at fault. This is an accident. "Leave." I muster what remains of my calm-headed self to talk to her but it comes out murderous. That does the trick well enough for Joanne to shut her mouth with a loud click, run out of the room, open the door herself, and leave it behind half-open as she's gone.