Three's a crowd, chapter nine.
Where our protagonists begin to figure out what the others are thinking.
Kel stood stock still in the alcove for a long moment, eyes fixed on some point in the middle distance, hand covering her mouth. Eventually Dom saw her exhale, shoulders drooping, before she turned and looked about.
With no Lerant to distract her, Kel’s gaze soon lit upon Dom, who was still slouched low in the comfortable chair. He raised his goblet in grim acknowledgement. No hiding now, he thought, as Kel made her way over to sit opposite him.
“Dom,” she said, laying her palms carefully flat on her satin covered lap, “I believe I owe you an apology.”
“I’m sorry?” Dom started. A traitor part of him said it was only his due, but an apology hadn’t been what he was expecting.
“No, that’s what I’m meant to say,” Kel joked weakly. “Lerant. I think I’ve misunderstood.”
Dom shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he began, mind racing. Lerant had left her with a flush on her cheeks and a hand on her lips, and she was sorry? It had been a misunderstanding? Dom felt a clutch of anger and jealousy in the pit of his stomach. If he hadn’t been drinking to forget, he would have stormed away. As it was, all he could do was stare and listen. He could forget this, too, along with the rest of the night. Along with a lot of other things.
“I should start at the beginning, I suppose,” Kel said, and did so. She explained about the sparring and conversation with Lerant, of his regard for Dom, his cryptic mention of things Kel, as a Lady Knight, could never understand. She spoke of Lerant’s brittle pride, and of her own resolution to help him, if she could. “I tried to let him know that I knew - or thought I knew, turns out - and I thought we were on the same page, had an understanding. But after the dance, just now, I wasn’t so sure.” At this Kel knotted her fingers together and glanced away for a second. Dom had never seen her in less control of herself. “So I thought I had better speak plainly.” She laughed, softly, and looked Dom in the eye. “Turns out I was wrong all along.”
“So,” Dom said carefully, setting his wine carefully down by his foot (for he was fairly sure he would need it later), “you were under the impression that Lerant had a certain - regard - for me, and you wished to, shall we say - facilitate - matters?” He sat back, frowning and laughing together with the way Kel had it all, perfectly, back to front. “I wondered what you were on about earlier. Now I know what you meant, seems you’re actually not very subtle.”
“Knight,” said Kel. “I hit things for a living. Not much call for subtle.”
“No, but I take it when you stated what you thought was obvious, just now,” Dom gestured towards the alcove, “Lerant was shocked at your conclusions.” Shocked was far better than what Dom had though had happened, better than hot breath on skin and tingling lips….He brought that image to a halt.
“That was one way of putting it,” Kel remarked.
“What did you actually say?”
“Much what I just said to you…I may have finished with a remark along the lines of “your love does not have to be hidden” and then the words “let Dom know your true feelings” may have slipped out.”
“Oh, Kel,” Dom sighed. He reached down for his wine goblet and drained it in a single swallow. “Did he laugh in your face? Or was he bitterly sarcastic in that superior way he has?” Anything but kiss you.
“He was - and I’ve never seen him quiet like that, Dom - he leaned very close and whispered, so seriously, that he hoped I would not endeavour to help him in any matter of the heart again. Then he stalked off.”
“With his head too high? I know. That sounds like a sarcastic line to me, though.”
“It was too, I don’t know, there was no eyebrow waggling and smirking, like he really was serious, and angry as well,” Kel sighed. “What a mess I’ve made.” She rubbed the back of her hand quickly across her eyes.
“Only on top of the ground work of others. You know Lerant thinks Wolset and I were trying to set him up with you?”
“Me?” Kel exclaimed. “But he hates me!”
“Of course he didn’t hate you Kel.” Dom paused. “Of course he doesn’t hate you, Kel. But what on Earth possessed you to try and help him in such an obvious way? And why in the name of the Three Fold Goddess did you think he was in love with me?” Dom fingered his far too empty goblet.
“You’re so close, and he seems to think so much of you. I know he had a secret as well.”
“We’re friends,” Dom told Kel. Friends, friends, friends, he told himself. “And, well, we all have secrets. Sarcastic, aristocratic standard bearers don’t have a monopoly on that.”
They were both quiet for a second, and their thoughts lingered on their secrets. Kel’s might have been new and startling, Dom’s old and dear, but they were the same.
“You thought Lerant was in love with me,” Dom repeated.
“I’m sorry, Dom, but I thought there was something there, and I wanted to do some good, make my friend happy…”
Dom held up his palm to quiet Kel. He couldn’t quite look her in the eye, but with his gaze fixed on her shoulder, his voice was quite clear. “Would you help me, if I was in love with Lerant?”
****
Lerant had stalked out of the Ballroom, battling every at every step not to break into a run. When had Kel become so meddlesome? Of course she had her causes and her strays, but this was plucking fictions out of thin air! Too agitated to look where he was going, Lerant bounced off the door frame, lurched into the hallway, nearly sent a small ornamental table flying and began to swear loudly. A dowager, finely dressed in blue and grey silk, paused to gaze down her nose at Lerant.
“In a hurry, young man?” she enquired, vowels crystal sharp.
“Excuse my impropriety, dear Lady,” Lerant snapped, “I mind myself in the midst of a conspiracy!” He hoped that he didn’t sound as shrill as he thought he did.
“Hmm,” the lady replied, touching the pearls at her throat. “Somehow, I think not. Feminine intuition and the experience of years suggests to me you are being slightly overdramatic.”
Lerant huffed in outrage.
“Yes,” she continued, “but I suggest you go and speak to the girl involved. Communication, that’s the key.”
“Why,” Lerant demanded, dropping his tones as low as he could manage, “do you presume it’s all about a g-” he coughed, “a girl.”
“Or a boy, then.” She smiled gravely. “It generally is, my dear.”
Lerant bowed silently and continued his charge down the hall. The Duchess shook her head fondly at the foolishness of young, and continued into the Ballroom.
Lerant’s charge down the corridor was unimpeded. He made his way out into the Gardens and scrunched his way down the neat gravel paths to the farthest reaches of the grounds. The evening was chill enough that Lerant had the area to himself. He was deeply grateful for the lack of courting couples, but the temperature forced him to keep moving, and paced busily round the fountain.
Whether it was the cold, the exercise, or the calming chatter of water on stone, Lerant eventually began to wind down, and think. He had thought Kel had been holding a torch for Dom herself, the way she went on about him. She’d hardly shut up about how wonderful Dom was last times they’d sparred, and during the last dance she had spoken cryptically of secrets. Secrets! Lerant scuffed the neat gravel path and kicked the little stones randomly. Secrets in her head, just. Lerant supposed he and Dom were close, and who knows what the imaginative mind could conjure from their comradeship? Well, Lerant knew, because Kel had told him in detailed and specific words. He snorted and walked faster again; the logical part of him conceded Kel had thought she was doing good, and if she had only spoken to him…Lerant stopped dead. What if Kel had spoken to Dom? Would he think Lerant had a stupid, pathetic crush? Handsome, popular, kind Dom; the worst bit would be if he tried to let him down gently. Lerant clutched his head in his palms at the very idea. He would have to speak to Dom and warn him of Kel’s fantasies, a pre-emptive strike would be the only way to lessen the mortification. Plan decided, Lerant wheeled to make his way back to the Ballroom, but a new and dreadful thought struck him.
What if Kel had told Wolset?
He crumpled bonelessly onto the fountain’s edge.
Kel stood stock still in the alcove for a long moment, eyes fixed on some point in the middle distance, hand covering her mouth. Eventually Dom saw her exhale, shoulders drooping, before she turned and looked about.
With no Lerant to distract her, Kel’s gaze soon lit upon Dom, who was still slouched low in the comfortable chair. He raised his goblet in grim acknowledgement. No hiding now, he thought, as Kel made her way over to sit opposite him.
“Dom,” she said, laying her palms carefully flat on her satin covered lap, “I believe I owe you an apology.”
“I’m sorry?” Dom started. A traitor part of him said it was only his due, but an apology hadn’t been what he was expecting.
“No, that’s what I’m meant to say,” Kel joked weakly. “Lerant. I think I’ve misunderstood.”
Dom shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he began, mind racing. Lerant had left her with a flush on her cheeks and a hand on her lips, and she was sorry? It had been a misunderstanding? Dom felt a clutch of anger and jealousy in the pit of his stomach. If he hadn’t been drinking to forget, he would have stormed away. As it was, all he could do was stare and listen. He could forget this, too, along with the rest of the night. Along with a lot of other things.
“I should start at the beginning, I suppose,” Kel said, and did so. She explained about the sparring and conversation with Lerant, of his regard for Dom, his cryptic mention of things Kel, as a Lady Knight, could never understand. She spoke of Lerant’s brittle pride, and of her own resolution to help him, if she could. “I tried to let him know that I knew - or thought I knew, turns out - and I thought we were on the same page, had an understanding. But after the dance, just now, I wasn’t so sure.” At this Kel knotted her fingers together and glanced away for a second. Dom had never seen her in less control of herself. “So I thought I had better speak plainly.” She laughed, softly, and looked Dom in the eye. “Turns out I was wrong all along.”
“So,” Dom said carefully, setting his wine carefully down by his foot (for he was fairly sure he would need it later), “you were under the impression that Lerant had a certain - regard - for me, and you wished to, shall we say - facilitate - matters?” He sat back, frowning and laughing together with the way Kel had it all, perfectly, back to front. “I wondered what you were on about earlier. Now I know what you meant, seems you’re actually not very subtle.”
“Knight,” said Kel. “I hit things for a living. Not much call for subtle.”
“No, but I take it when you stated what you thought was obvious, just now,” Dom gestured towards the alcove, “Lerant was shocked at your conclusions.” Shocked was far better than what Dom had though had happened, better than hot breath on skin and tingling lips….He brought that image to a halt.
“That was one way of putting it,” Kel remarked.
“What did you actually say?”
“Much what I just said to you…I may have finished with a remark along the lines of “your love does not have to be hidden” and then the words “let Dom know your true feelings” may have slipped out.”
“Oh, Kel,” Dom sighed. He reached down for his wine goblet and drained it in a single swallow. “Did he laugh in your face? Or was he bitterly sarcastic in that superior way he has?” Anything but kiss you.
“He was - and I’ve never seen him quiet like that, Dom - he leaned very close and whispered, so seriously, that he hoped I would not endeavour to help him in any matter of the heart again. Then he stalked off.”
“With his head too high? I know. That sounds like a sarcastic line to me, though.”
“It was too, I don’t know, there was no eyebrow waggling and smirking, like he really was serious, and angry as well,” Kel sighed. “What a mess I’ve made.” She rubbed the back of her hand quickly across her eyes.
“Only on top of the ground work of others. You know Lerant thinks Wolset and I were trying to set him up with you?”
“Me?” Kel exclaimed. “But he hates me!”
“Of course he didn’t hate you Kel.” Dom paused. “Of course he doesn’t hate you, Kel. But what on Earth possessed you to try and help him in such an obvious way? And why in the name of the Three Fold Goddess did you think he was in love with me?” Dom fingered his far too empty goblet.
“You’re so close, and he seems to think so much of you. I know he had a secret as well.”
“We’re friends,” Dom told Kel. Friends, friends, friends, he told himself. “And, well, we all have secrets. Sarcastic, aristocratic standard bearers don’t have a monopoly on that.”
They were both quiet for a second, and their thoughts lingered on their secrets. Kel’s might have been new and startling, Dom’s old and dear, but they were the same.
“You thought Lerant was in love with me,” Dom repeated.
“I’m sorry, Dom, but I thought there was something there, and I wanted to do some good, make my friend happy…”
Dom held up his palm to quiet Kel. He couldn’t quite look her in the eye, but with his gaze fixed on her shoulder, his voice was quite clear. “Would you help me, if I was in love with Lerant?”
****
Lerant had stalked out of the Ballroom, battling every at every step not to break into a run. When had Kel become so meddlesome? Of course she had her causes and her strays, but this was plucking fictions out of thin air! Too agitated to look where he was going, Lerant bounced off the door frame, lurched into the hallway, nearly sent a small ornamental table flying and began to swear loudly. A dowager, finely dressed in blue and grey silk, paused to gaze down her nose at Lerant.
“In a hurry, young man?” she enquired, vowels crystal sharp.
“Excuse my impropriety, dear Lady,” Lerant snapped, “I mind myself in the midst of a conspiracy!” He hoped that he didn’t sound as shrill as he thought he did.
“Hmm,” the lady replied, touching the pearls at her throat. “Somehow, I think not. Feminine intuition and the experience of years suggests to me you are being slightly overdramatic.”
Lerant huffed in outrage.
“Yes,” she continued, “but I suggest you go and speak to the girl involved. Communication, that’s the key.”
“Why,” Lerant demanded, dropping his tones as low as he could manage, “do you presume it’s all about a g-” he coughed, “a girl.”
“Or a boy, then.” She smiled gravely. “It generally is, my dear.”
Lerant bowed silently and continued his charge down the hall. The Duchess shook her head fondly at the foolishness of young, and continued into the Ballroom.
Lerant’s charge down the corridor was unimpeded. He made his way out into the Gardens and scrunched his way down the neat gravel paths to the farthest reaches of the grounds. The evening was chill enough that Lerant had the area to himself. He was deeply grateful for the lack of courting couples, but the temperature forced him to keep moving, and paced busily round the fountain.
Whether it was the cold, the exercise, or the calming chatter of water on stone, Lerant eventually began to wind down, and think. He had thought Kel had been holding a torch for Dom herself, the way she went on about him. She’d hardly shut up about how wonderful Dom was last times they’d sparred, and during the last dance she had spoken cryptically of secrets. Secrets! Lerant scuffed the neat gravel path and kicked the little stones randomly. Secrets in her head, just. Lerant supposed he and Dom were close, and who knows what the imaginative mind could conjure from their comradeship? Well, Lerant knew, because Kel had told him in detailed and specific words. He snorted and walked faster again; the logical part of him conceded Kel had thought she was doing good, and if she had only spoken to him…Lerant stopped dead. What if Kel had spoken to Dom? Would he think Lerant had a stupid, pathetic crush? Handsome, popular, kind Dom; the worst bit would be if he tried to let him down gently. Lerant clutched his head in his palms at the very idea. He would have to speak to Dom and warn him of Kel’s fantasies, a pre-emptive strike would be the only way to lessen the mortification. Plan decided, Lerant wheeled to make his way back to the Ballroom, but a new and dreadful thought struck him.
What if Kel had told Wolset?
He crumpled bonelessly onto the fountain’s edge.