Private Tales Seven Starlit Nights

[Kristen Pirian]

THE FIRST NIGHT​

The promise of something wonderful awaited.

Kristen Pirian, alongside a retinue of Stormguard and Piriansworn men, had at last been informed by the driver of her carriage that they had just entered Alliria proper. Evening had just settled upon Arethil, and to the west ahead of them a sliver of glistening sunset remained, all the world draped in gray and deep blue to their rear. A lovely time of year, with days still warm and nights that were cool and not yet overly long. Fine weather for a Tournament to be held, but Kristen was not here for any Tournament—only incidentally so. Her foremost reason was other than this, and indeed the source of her anticipation, its mild trepidation, its unfurling delight.

She had within her carriage several dresses. Far more than she could possibly put to use for the duration of her stay! Her mother Josephine had advised a wide variety, all the better to select from when differing occasions arose, and when Kristen worried about overburdening her transport, Mother merely laughed and said, "The traveling of a Lady is scarcely light." Oh but it reminded Kristen of just how far removed she was now from her former life, her life before the Academy, before becoming a Dreadlord of Vel Anir! She was the Darling Daughter of House Pirian, a title which she struggled to reconcile with the violence of her trade as a Dreadlord, and yet the moniker remained. Even as Lady of Vel Numera hardly did she engage in Lady-like endeavors, not like as it had been when she was aged fifteen summers and younger. Two different duties held sway, that of a Dreadlord, that of a noble, and their conflict beset her.

But for these nights ahead that conflict could rest, for she would put aside that Dreadlord duty, and even lay at ease that of nobility. She was both of those things, Dreadlord and noble, but she was also merely, simply, Kristen. And she, Kristen the woman, housed within her breast a simple, yearning desire.

Recently had she beseeched her uncle Tobias and her father Neil for aid in this matter, despairing as she was of her own efforts. And the fruit of this talk with Uncle Tobias and her father led her now to Alliria. For inquiries had been sent to Vel Castere, and as it so happened, she would need to travel afar, to this very city hosting the Tournament of Tides.

Sable Pembroke was to be here. He ought to be expecting her—perhaps with some amount of anticipation himself. Kristen knew not how Uncle Tobias worded his letter to him, but the written word would surely give way to presence, and they could for themselves explore what might be, what could be, what may be.

"Ma'am," said the driver through the vent window above, "we're close."

Kristen sat with legs crossed and her hands set neatly in her lap, smiling as bidden by the rising flame in her chest, mild in pain and nervous waiting, great in warmth and budding hope.

Might this at last be the fulfillment of her heart's desire?

Sable Pembroke

 

[Sable Pembroke]

The correspondence from Lord Tobias Pirian had been concise, but informative. Generally Sable did not deny requests from the man who'd freed him from serving a long sentence, but he'd been given very clear permission to do so in this instance. After all, Lord Pirian did not pull any punches in giving his reason for the letter this time.

As Sable had read through the missive, he'd found himself pulling at the collar of his uniform, his eyes widening as he scanned over the page. Sable was being requested to escort Kristen to an event in Alliria, not as a guard, but as a...date.

Apparently the Lady of Vel Numera was seeking a suitor. If Sable was to accept, he'd be given supplies and transport, then brought to Kristen for a week's visit to see how things might play out between them. The choice was not easy, even though his commanding officer had already granted him leave with a wink and a nudge. The titan of a young man had spent a full day considering the letter's contents, his cheeks burning as he recalled his past interactions with the illustrious Kristen Pirian.

Had she really taken an interest in a humble soldier like him?

With a deep breath, Sable gathered his resolve and gave the Pirian courier his answer. He would accept and travel north at House Pirian's behest.

He'd been told to shave and gifted some clothing, including a sharp, fitted suit in Pirian styling. It wasn't something that Sable would ordinarily find himself wearing, but at least it was tailored to actually fit his large frame, unlike the one he wore to that dance at the Academy all those years ago. After the preparations had been made, he'd been quickly loaded into a fine carriage and spirited away.

Many days of travel came and went, and ultimately he somehow managed to beat Kristen to their rendezvous point. Alliria was usually a dreary place from what he'd heard, but this time of year seemed to offer the blessing of a brief spot of nice weather. Sable stood, dressed up to the gills, sweating lightly as he nervously awaited the arrival of the young noblewoman he was to escort.

Kress, he hoped he didn't make it weird.