Delrik stood by the bookshelf in his study as the elegant Lady Cosaria sat on the opposite couch. He was trying to create distance between them. That's what she wanted after all.
He was thinking about how to start the conversation. Perhaps a few pleasantries. How's the day? The weather? Was the room to her liking? No, all that was too informal. What could he say? he contemplated.
Cosaria had been waiting in the room for a while and she wasn't sure what to do so finally she said, "What did you want to see me about your Lordship?"
"I see," Delrik said, "you'd like me to get to the point." Thinking about pleasantries had been a useless endeavor. It was obvious she wanted him to get to the point. "I don't want this marriage, neither do you. The King set this up to undermine me. To my regret, you and your family were dragged along in his little scheme. It's obvious this is all a sham. Go home. I'll make up some excuse and we'll call off the wedding. It's obvious you would not be suitable for someone in my circumstances anyway."
Delrik had given his speech to the wall, so he was unprepared when he glanced at Cosaria and found tears falling down her perfect cheeks. She wasn't saying anything.
Delrik winced as Cosaria stood up. She curtsied like a stiff board and Delrik swallowed hard.
Cosaria said, "Yes, thank you my Lord."
Then Cosaria moved her way to the door, passing Felux, who had been patiently manning the entrance. Felux opened the door for her and Cosaria ran down the hall in tears.
Delrik stood in shock, not able to comprehend the tender feelings of a tender girl.
Finally he turned to Felux and asked, "Was that harsh?"
"Aye," Felux said, "It might've been better if you'd just taken a battering ram to her." While Felux had expected Delrik to call off the engagement, he hadn't expected Delrik to full-on insult the Lady.
Delrik collapsed into one of the chairs, holding his head in his hands. He was incompetent in delicate situations such as these. He had taken a beautiful fresh flower and crushed it under his feet, ruining her.
Felux rolled his eyes. What a drama queen, he thought.
༻✧༺
Cosaria was crying on her bed in a crumpled heap.
Tilda sat down beside her. She said, "It went that badly huh?"
Cosaria spoke into her pillows, creating a muffled effect to her already soft voice, "He said I wasn't suitable. There's no way he would ever come to love me."
Tilda sighed.
"We shouldn't have expected anything from that tyrant in the first place. I'm sorry, it's my fault for misjudging his character."
Cosaria sat up and grabbed Tilda's arm. She didn't want Tilda blaming herself after everything she had done for her.
Cosaria said, "No, it's my fault. I'm just not good enough."
Tilda said, "That's not true."
"I'll never be good enough for him and I'll never be good enough for my family." Tears began to increase their flow down Cosaria's face.
A small strand of fury creased Tilda's temper as she said, "Why should you care about what people, who don't care about you, think?"
Cosaria said, "They're my family."
"And they threw you away!" Tilda emphasized.
Cosaria burst into tears and flung herself back onto the bed. Tilda mentally kicked herself. Cosaria was already in an emotional state and here Tilda was, pricking a sore spot and tearing open bleeding wounds.
She tried to recover by saying, "But they'll probably take you back..." but then what? "Of course they'll just marry you off to whichever sleazeball is next so that's not ideal."
Cosaria's whining grew a few decibels louder.
Tilda stood up and observed the pitiful mess Cosaria made herself out to be. She'd dealt with childish temper tantrums before, but this was a whole new level.
Tilda said, "Cosaria, come on, really? Crying isn't going to do you any good."
Cosaria let herself be audible enough to say, "Now I'm not even good enough for you."
The strand of anger flared again as Tilda put her hands on her hips. She said firmly, "I don't know how to help you when you're like this."
She moved towards the door. She needed to get away from this self pity party before she said something she really regretted.
"I'll be back in a few hours after you've calmed down," Tilda said. Then she left.
༻✧༺
Tilda made her way to the servant's commons where she asked around until she found the Arquix Head Maid.
Gordana was a pleasant woman coming upon her early fifties. She had dark hair with strings of white and her face almost always played a smile.
As Tilda approached her she said, "Ma'am, do you have any rugs that need a good beating? I've got some anger I need to work out."
"Oh sure," Gordana said. She was surprised by this new maid's gumption. No one ever offered to do work and Gordana wasn't about to let a good opportunity go to waste. If this maid Tilda was willing to work, Gordana knew the perfect rug with the most need.
༻✧༺
Tilda was beating a giant dirt and mud ridden rug that had come from the Knight's barracks. She'd hung the rug on a line tied between two trees in the servant's clearing. She was murmuring all the while.
"Stupid. Cosaria. Stupid. Arquix."
Between each word she beat the rug with a metal rug beater. It was a nicer tool than any she'd used at the Baxarte estate.
"Stupid. Baxarte. Stupid. Nobles."
This was a very private area kept out of the way, simply because it wasn't decorous to show off the area where servant's worked. As such, Tilda felt like she didn't have to worry about whether or not there was anyone watching her.
"Stupid. Castle. Stupid. Rich people."
As Tilda felt she was in complete isolation she didn't notice Felux's presence as he strolled on by, overhearing, yet another of her rants.
"Stupid. Tilda. Stupid. Caring. Stupid. Emotions. Stupid. Promises."
Tilda finished off her tirade with three last harsh beatings.
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"
She was breathing heavily by this point, sweat dripping from her forehead. She wiped her face with her sleeve then hawked a nasty loogie, completely unaware that Felux was watching the whole thing.
As the chunk of spat landed, Felux ducked behind a pillar on the patio and covered a laugh. This girl was hilarious.
Tilda straightened her back and faced the rug again. "It probably wouldn't be so stupid if I didn't care so much," she sighed, "Well, it's too late now."
Felux peaked curiously out from the pillar as Tilda resumed her function of beating the rug. As the beatings compounded into a rhythmic function, Felux continued on his way.
༻✧༺
A few hours later Tilda finished up with the rug. She'd done a good job and she was confident the rug was completely dirt and dust free.
"That feels better," she said. Nothing better than some good old fashioned work.
Suddenly, a young page boy, who couldn't have been older than twelve, ran up to Tilda.
The Page asked, "Are you Tilda?"
"I am."
The Page said, "Lady Cosaria said she wanted to leave this evening. She sent me to tell you."
"She what?" Tilda couldn't believe what she was hearing. They had just arrived. Leaving now would be nothing more than another reactionary tantrum.
The Page paused, "Uh... she sent me-"
"No, I got it. Thanks for the message. I'll be there in a minute," Tilda said.
"Okay," The Page said, then he hurried off.
Tilda took another look at the rug. She had missed a spot. In fact, she had missed quite a few spots. Suddenly, she felt like she could start beating the rug all over again.