contact part deux

[bouchonne]

if this were modern times byerly would probably make you listen to total eclipse of the heart before you were able to leave a message

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[highborn]

[ A nod. ]

Right. Which leaves me with a need to find some semi-formal reason to be there, and not look as if I'm there to help her with her business. [ His smile goes wry. ] It's quite an ask, and certainly not your problem. But if you had any errands you needed running ...

[bouchonne]

Ah, he seeks to make me his pimp.

[highborn]

[ With a grin, because he's not had to worry about anything like pride for years: ] A good deal for you, I should think. That's free labor, no?

[bouchonne]

It is.

I still cannot say, however, that I think this the grandest idea.

[highborn]

[ With a huff: ] I had no idea you worried so much over matters so small. What else could concern you?

[bouchonne]

[ An easy shrug. ]

There is a danger being in a place where you've only one person to rely on.

[highborn]

I’ve survived years with less.

[bouchonne]

Ah, that sort of stoicism would make the strongest hearts flutter. Well done. Very romantic.

[highborn]

[ He rolls his eyes, but it’s not especially bitter. ]

You think I can’t handle myself. I suppose it’s fair, I’ve not painted a very flattering picture of myself for you.

[bouchonne]

I wouldn't trust anyone to follow a paramour into a viper pit for months on end.

[highborn]

[ His eyes narrow, his tone cooling. ]

The threat of high society isn’t a threat to me. Have I misunderstood something of this place? Are they using knives after all, and not merely sharpened words?

[bouchonne]

No. - Well, yes, sometimes. But it's not physical danger that concerns me.

[highborn]

Then — please. [ He gestures a rolling go ahead. ] Help to prepare me.

[bouchonne]

[ A slight sigh. ]

Dear fellow, it's also not the Orlesians who I see as a danger to you.

[highborn]

[ He can’t hide the genuine surprise, blinking. ]

What, then?

[bouchonne]

The aforementioned paramour.

[highborn]

[ This clears absolutely nothing up for him; he drops any pretense to look openly bewildered. ]

Athessa? How?

[bouchonne]

[ By sits back and gives a sigh, running his hand over his chin. How can he say this in a way that won't sound cruel? And, more importantly, won't result in Vanadi dismissing him outright? ]

Athessa is...someone who puts rather a lot of emphasis on her romantic relationships. For good and for bad. I have seen romantic difficulties turn her quite thoughtless. Uncommonly, intensely thoughtless. So I worry that - if something were to go wrong, and you were in a situation where you had no one to talk to, or compare stories with, or simply ask am I mad?, it might lead to a great deal of hurt. And perhaps some loss of what stability you've achieved here.

[highborn]

[ His surprise finally quells, settling as he listens into something more like tried patience. ]

Byerly, do you think I'm new to romance? Or so fragile that a lover's spat might undo me?

[ And, true, this particular romance is already something deeper than he's used to, and Vanadi probably would have an extremely bad time in the worst case scenario Byerly is envisioning — but his ego isn't entirely dissolved, it seems. ]

[bouchonne]

[ Well...Yes, sort of. ]

She is uncommonly like that. In a way you're likely not prepared for.

[highborn]

[ He rolls his eyes to make his disagreement clear, but: ] Alright, then — I can't say your read of her much matches my experience so far, so humor me with an anecdote.

[bouchonne]

My, my, how can I resist giving my help when your expression communicates how much you value it.

[highborn]

[ Sharply: ] I value your input, I think you're an intelligent and thoughtful man, but I think I know—

[ He breaks off suddenly, because, does he really know? Much of anything? He'd nearly been sure of himself for a short while there. He sighs, rubs his forehead. ]

Is she likely to slit my throat in the night, would you say? I would say no, but I admit I've been wrong before. [ (He wishes he could make this as facetious as it sounds.) ]

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly's lips thin. He's silent a moment, and then he answers tersely. ]

Not likely.

[highborn]

Oh, good. I think I can work with anything short of that.

[ He lifts his head again, and when his eyes find Byerly's he only looks tired. With a gentle sigh: ]

Please. I do want to hear what you have to say, if only because it's you saying it.