(1867-02-07) Checking on the Wounded
Checking on the Wounded
Summary: Adrienne pays Aidric a call to check on his recovery after he sustained severe injuries from a boar during the hunt. What follows is a lesson in Cassomir loyalty and slightly flirtatious banter, as is to be expected.
Date: 08-13/02/2016 (Date of RP)
Related: An Ironhold Hunt and Aidric/Adrienne logs.
Aidric  Adrienne  

Roseguard Castle - Iron March - Sunsreach - Rivana

After climbing a pathway leading up onto a hillside beside Iron March, and passing through the gates of a set of thick walls (a feat that usually requires an invitation from the head of House Cassomir or their family, or a very thorough questioning and search unless you're a regular visitor), the courtyard of Roseguard Castle opens up. Roseguard is one of the newest castles in Rivana, and it shows in both the unblemished and unworn edifice of the castle itself standing tall and proud upon the hillside, but also in architecture that blends lessons of hundreds of years of siege warfare to create a fortress of formidable defenses. The thick outer wall is manned by several dozen members of the Iron Guard, who are quartered both within the walls themselves, but also in the barracks that rest off to one side of the courtyard, opposite where a large stables lie. A smaller structure is tucked into the corner of the walls furthest from the castle, with a symbol on the outside that indicates it as an alchemical lab. Not surprisingly, the guardsmen seem to keep a wide berth from that one.

Near the barracks sits a well for drawing fresh water from an underground stream, and a few trees are placed here and there for shade. There's a near-constant hum of activity during the day, with visitors to the castle moving to and fro along with guards, servants, and soldiers of House Cassomir. It's not uncommon to see Knights speaking with Huntresses or off-duty guardsmen having a bit of play upon the well-manicured lawns, but there does seem to be a sense of order and organization to all the proceedings, and the guards are quick to take a closer look at anyone or anything that looks out of place…whether out of suspicion or a polite offer of assistance for those that simply look lost. Of course, the large doors that lead to the castle proper beckon, for those with further business within.

Fevrier 7th, 1867

At first, Aidric didn’t merit rooms in Rosegard given his relatively low rank and his past allegences. However taking a wound in the hunt changed things, and so, Aidric was given a chamber in the castle where he could rest comfortably and where the healers (and doubtless the guards) could keep an eye on him.

In truth there was little in the way of danger from the wound. It was a deep gash, but his rib cage took most of the internal damage, saving his heart and lungs from puncture. Though, by how much the bruised bones hurt, the Carling knight almost wished the damned pig had finished him off. As such he was plied frequently with poppy, and his bandages were changed daily, honey dabbed on the wound to stave off infection.

Safe though he was from the spectre of death, the spectre of boredom was a more persistent foe, and so, with his squire off on some errand, Aidric finds himself sitting alone in his loaned chamber, thumbing listlessly through a borrowed tome on the war with the Alhazred that had brought the Huntresses into being. It was an engaging tale, but between pain, boredom and the muzzy headed feeling the poppy left him with he found he could not get into it.

A guard was positioned at the door – whether out of coincidence or purpose was anyone’s guess, and he would be the first to glimpse a Cassomir approaching; the freckled one, and one of the Huntresses of Ironhold as is obvious from her attire of tunic and leggings. A nod is offered to the guard, a faint curving of lips there, as she moves towards the door, administers a confident knock, and enters shortly after.

“Sir Aidric,” official address offered shortly before she closes the door behind her, green eyes flickering as they find the Carling while her freckled features display the stoicness her family is known for. Apart from that he will see the familiar sight of a Huntress, even if she wears an additional accessory today, a scarf of blue color, wrapped about her neck. The corners of her mouth twitch slightly upwards, as Adrienne takes a step in Aidric’s direction. “I don’t mean to disturb,” her green eyes flit from the book in his hands to his features, a sweeping glance that allows her a brief assessment of the state of his attire or bandages, if visible. “The Mistress of the Hunt would have checked on you personally by now, but Emilia got hurt badly herself. So it is on me to… inquire about the progress of your recovery.”, the Huntress intones, keeping the tone polite and officious

Aidric looks up from the book. He’d wondered if Adrienne would come. The huntress’ formal tone is noted. “Ah, wondered where the Viscountess was,” he says closing the book to indicate her arrival is no bother all. “I hope Emilia,” a nod is given to her scarf. “And you are recovering alright.”

While his words are as formal as he cares to make them at this moment, his eyes glint with an amused light as he raises a querying brow, as if to ask, are we still being listened to?

Adrienne’s brows jump upwards. “The Viscountess is busy with taking care of the foreign guests,” she is quick to explain, referring to the Alhazredi delegation. “As for Emilia, she is recovering, but she got actually more battered than I did.” A hand is raised to touch the scarf about her neck. “An aggressive boar, that.”, she comments with an expression somewhere between light amusement and actual discomfort at the memory, when she speaks obviously about the beast that attacked both her and Aidric. “I still don’t know how Checkmate managed to remain standing… After the attack that got me this.” While she was still on horseback. Green eyes are raised to meet the lighter green of his gaze. The Carling’s lift of a brow has the freckled Huntress quirk a brow of her own, a slight flicker there in her gaze as her stoic mien melts into a faint smile and she shakes her head; either towards his unspoken question or at herself, or maybe both!

With the door closed, and nobody else in the room provided to the former Thorn, Adrienne reaches out for a caress of his check, as she murmurs softly: “I didn’t want you to get gored like that.”, warmth evident in both her tone and the look she gives him. Still, she remains standing where she is, little less than an arm’s length away from him; undecided perhaps, whether to close the distance completely or to withdraw.

“Ah, yes, the Alhazred where here to see that too… joy,” Aidric remarks at the mention of the foreign visitors. Bad enough to fall down before one’s own countrymen, but now he had people from Alhazred who’d seen him bested by ambulatory bacon. He makes a face and sets the book aside turning on the bed so his legs hang over the side. “Anyhow, glad to hear Emilia is doing well, and yourself, as you seem to be talking well enough,” he says with a hint of a question in his tone, just to be sure she was not more badly hurt than she seemed. He quickly jests however, “Yes, your horse seemed to do better than the both of us on that count. Though it was an uncommon fierce boar as you said.” Not that he had a ton of experience there but he was willing to assume such to soothe his pride.

The caress of his cheek comes as a surprise. “Concern for my well-being?” he asks looking up with a smile. “This is new,” he remarks.

"I doubt, they saw much of it, to be honest," Adrienne remarks to his comment about the Alhazred, raising a brow, noting the face Aidric makes. "And if they did indeed watch, they would have seen how you killed that boar…", said as her gaze flits downward, and her lips curl ever-so-slightly in acknowledgement of his effort there. Her hand fidgets with the scarf and another nod comes. "Aye, the wound has been treated, but I fear there will be some marks left here…", she says with a slight grumble, indicating the area at the back her neck, where her hand touches the right side of it.

It is the Carling's remark about Checkmate that manages the rare feat of drawing a dry chuckle from her lips. "Oh. True. She remained standing at least and wasn't toppled over by the boar." The question, however, that comes next does seem to surprise her as much as her gesture did surprise him. "Why, yes.", Adrienne says, her smile deepening in response to his own. "Would that be so odd…?" An admission that brings her a step closer towards the former Thorn. "I remember we spoke of that once… me being gored during a hunt. Ironic that it should be you, who ended up the more gored of us two, hmmm?" On a hunt that happened almost three months after that conversation. Her fingers stay there at his cheek, and the warmth is there in the freckled Cassomir's gaze, yet also something else, a flicker of uncertainty. "It's been a while."

A faintly thoughtful look registers on Aidric’s face when Adrienne points out he did kill the boar. “True,” he allows with a more sanguine tone. He studies where she indicates the boar’s attacks will leave marks. “I am sure they will add character rather than mar your looks,” he says. “It is not as if your other scars have made you less pleasing to the eye,” he remarks. “Though if it’s a concern, I have some Lady’s Blessing from when I got this,” he tilts his head to display where a spear point scarred his throat. The wound just a minor white line now, barely visible except, when in the right light as it is now.

He turns his head back upright at the wry chuckle. “To be fair, your Checkmate has more legs than we do, so there’s that to comfort us,” he remarks before they move on to the topic of concern. “It’s true, I believe I did make such a remark,” he says. “It seems less funny having been on the receiving end of a goring,” he murmurs. Then, he glances up at her and notes the uncertainty in her gaze. There is a slight flicker of annoyance in his own eyes and he settles back on the bed propping himself up with his arms, grunting slightly as that tugs on his stitches. “It has been some time, but then we’ve had distance and duties to blame for that. I still enjoy our time together if that is the concern.”

Adrienne looks surprised at his train of thought. "No, I do not really bother that much," she states her eyes shifting in a slightly bewildered look that shows gratification as well at his offer. "It will be a scar, reminding me of the moment and the mistake that led to receiving it in the first place - a reminder, if you will, to keep me more on my guard next time." Even so, her green eyes study the faint scar at his throat with interest, her eyes widening just so as she notes the gravity of the wound, as it must have been.

Then talk turns to her horse and the fact of being gored by a boar. "It certainly is not funny," is her murmured acknowledgement of his words, as Adrienne's gaze shows that flicker and Aidric withdraws from her. "Distance. Duties.", the freckled Huntress echoes pensively, sitting down on the bed unasked beside where the Carling has settled on his back. "There have been changes… some of them unexpected." Adrienne continues to speak, words following her own train of thought now. "Emilia has become our Mistress of the Hunt, and I have vowed to help her where I can. This has earned me more responsibility." Possibly unacknowledged responsibility. A soft sigh leaves her lips, that will then curl into a smile when she hears his statement. "I've missed it actually. Our time together, in Sunsreach."

Adrienne shifts in her position, turning her torso slightly so she can regard Aidric Carling, propped up as he is on his elbows, fondness glinting in her gaze, as she catches her lower lip with her teeth. "This is a new constellation though, you here at Roseguard…" Her words trail off, and a faint line builds between her brows as she considers. "You here, gored by a horrid beast of a boar… That saves us perhaps from getting distracted too much, so we can focus on each other much better. You know… conversation and such." Noting the folly of the statement, the corners of her mouth twitch faintly before a giggle breaks free - not without causing a bit of pain to the Cassomir as she tilts her head, the pain evident in a slight wrinkling of her brows. "One above… who am I trying to fool here…?" Her eyes now on Aidric's face, amused, but also a bit 'taken' with him, as she had called the sentiment towards him on a previous encounter.

There is a nod at the refusal of his offer, it was no bother to him, then he nods. “Emilia as Mistress of the Hunt, by merit or by tradition?” he asks curious having just read some of the history of the Huntresses. He eyes Adrienne, trying to gauge her thoughts on the matter.

When Adrienne turns to look at him, she finds his eyes still on her, he keeps his expression neutral for the most part, but his eyes are searching and a touch cynical as a wary beast might check a found morsel of meat for sign of a trap. There is a snort though. “Oh, yes, I am ever so thankful for that, time alone in the Cassomir stronghold to talk” he says. He meant to be teasing but his tone comes off a touch more biting than he planned. He frowns, but doesn’t apologize instead moving on ask. “Oh? Fool whom about what?” though he is fairly certain he knows the answer even if he’s afraid to give it voice and look the fool if he is wrong.

The question about the reason for Emilia gaining the prestigious position as Mistress of the Hunt, it has Adrienne catch her breath. Her green eyes flicker and for a moment it seems as if she were about to reply right away, but then her mouth closes, and a faint line appears between her brows as she considers. “Both, I would think,” she allows after a moment. “She is quite capable. And she is of course the next female Cassomir of the main line.” The latter added with a hint of bitterness in her tone. “Even so, I would have preferred for Raelyn to keep the position.” A rather honest admission, even so the freckled Huntress will leave it at that – for now.

Then talk turns towards – conversation, and Adrienne cannot help but smile at the Carling’s snort. “I thought you’d value my occasionally entertaining remarks…”, she quips, shooting him a glance, but seeing that frown, her smile dims somewhat. “Fool myself,” is the reply to Aidric’s question, uttered in a low murmur. “About the fact that I’ve missed you.” She clams up a little, after treating him to that long monologue of thinking aloud earlier, and steps away, towards a table where a jug of lemon water and a flagon of red wine have been set aside for the former Thorn, and reaching for one of the clay cups there, she shoots Aidric an enquiring glance. “Would you like something to drink?”

Aidric looks at Adrienne for a moment before he remarks on Emilia’s selection as Mistress of the Hunt. “She is capable,” he offers, a safe political answer. His eyes though do rest on Adrienne, a silent offer that he is willing to hear more if she wishes.

When the conversation turns, he says, “I do enjoy them,” he admits. “And I am glad you do miss our time together. In fairness I’ll admit, I’ve missed it too.” He sits up then, slowly, with a great deal of pained grunts as the process tugs at his wound. There is a moment of silence while Aidric, now up right, lets the pain subside before he continues. “Water would be good,” he says to her question, his eyes on her. “As to conversation, previous remarks aside, I’d not be opposed to that.”

A faint smile tugs at Adrienne's lips at his diplomatic assessment of Emilia, and green eyes flit downward for a moment. Meeting Aidric's gaze then, and the offer it conveys. Her smile deepens then, warming the expression of her freckled features, thawing somewhat when the Carling admits to have missed her. Even so, there is concern in the glance Adrienne shoots him when he sits up with a groan, but she will not stop him, instead pouring some of the lemon water into one cup, which she will hand him then.

"Fine, then. It is what I had hoped for," the Cassomir lady smiles. "As anything other than conversation would cause too much discomfort, I'd wager." She returns to the table to pour herself some wine, her demeanor a bit thoughtful. "Even so, my time will be limited." A hand runs over her dark brown hair, smoothing a stray strand back in place that seems to have escaped the orderly braid. "Emilia will need me. And Raelyn. And… the Huntresses." Which brings the conversation back on topic.

"We all need to get used to the new constellation," the freckled Huntress intones as she sits down at the side of Aidric's bed, the cup held in one hand as she studies him, her head tilted slightly to one side. "And I believe we will. Even if it is a decision which was bound to provoke a bit of a stir among the Huntresses."

Aidric takes a sip of the water letting it wet his dry mouth before swallowing it down. “Thank you,” he says before resting the cup in his lap, held in both hands. “And yes, given how hard it was to sit up, other things would be a bit beyond me.” A smile there before he gives Adrienne’s words his attention, though still smiling. “New constellation,” he remarks liking the turn of phrase before he says. “I can imagine there are some scratching their head at Emilia being chosen. She does seem odd at first glance. How is she doing with it? Any mistakes for her critics to seize upon?” he asks before he lifts his cup for another sip.

Adrienne takes a sip from her own cup, green eyes lingering on Aidric as she watches him drink, a smile there for him as he states the inevitable truth, of him being still in too much discomfort through his injuries to really attempt anything beyond conversation. She nods then. "Aye. Raelyn's choice… no, it was a decision rather, that she would step down as Mistress of the Hunt and leave that position to Emilia, came a bit unexpected." Her gaze flits downward to the cup in her hand. "But as it is Raelyn's decision, how can I not support it? Emilia is doing fine so far," green eyes lift and meet the lighter green of the Carling's gaze, "and I am assisting her, when needed. So… there are no mistakes. And even the hunt she did handle quite well… even if she certainly had not planned the part of being attacked by a boar. But then again… so were you." Her voice softens, and so do her features, when the freckled Cassomir confesses with a voice that is hardly above the point where it would break: "I feared for a moment that this beast had finished you off, Aidric Carling." Another sip of wine is taken, and another glance shot his way. "I am glad, such is not the case."

Aidric lowers his cup after his sip. “Well, I doubt Raelyn is well-suited to being Viscountess, at least, it doesn’t seem that way. Makes sense to cut loose some of her old responsibilities to allow her to focus on what she needs to do.” At least it made sense to Aidric. He nods about how Emilia is doing at her new role. “And how do you like assisting your cousin?” he asks.

“Well, I lived, there’s no reason to worry,” Aidric says at first before adding. “Something we can both be glad of.” He takes another sip of the lemon water as much to buy time to think rather than quench his thirst. When the cup lowers again, he matches admission with admission. “I only charged the bloody thing because of what it did to you,” he says with an amused smirk at his own attempt at gallantry. He puts a hand on her knee as he shifts a little closer to her. “We lived though, that’s what matters, no?”

A nod comes to Aidric’s remark about the Viscountess. “Aye, Raelyn needs to focus on her new duties, but I am sure she will manage quite well.”, Adrienne states with confidence in her tone. Green eyes shift to Aidric, as she ponders his question for a moment. “It is not as bad as I thought,” the Huntress admits then, as her lips curve in a pensive smile. “Emilia and I… we’ve been close when we were children; before she became what she is today…”, odd Emilia. “There’s been a rift there, we both are aware of. The fact of her new position, and my offer of assistance is a chance perhaps to bridge that rift, at least to some extent. So…” Her smile deepens, and her brows lift as she takes another sip from her cup. “Even if I felt rather differently about it all first, I have accepted Raelyn’s decision and I shall support it before the other Huntresses. Some of them would have preferred to have me as Mistress of the Hunt, instead.”, Adrienne continues then, a slight hint of gratification discernible in the tone of her voice and posture. “But it is not meant to be. It would have done more harm than anything else, had I opposed Raelyn and Emilia in this.”

Another sip of wine is taken, and a much more pronounced smile blossoms on her freckled features when Aidric comments on the outcome of the hunt, even if the admission earns him a slightly surprised glance. “You attacked the beast to avenge me? To save me, even?”, Adrienne asks with a hint of astonishment, her eyes glinting. And like on an earlier occasion, where Aidric had demonstrated his skill at winning a lady over, this time, even with the less deliberate effort and amusement taking some momentum away from his statement, the freckled Huntress looks likewise impressed. Her gaze drops where her knee is claimed by his hand. “Yes,” is the monosyllabic reply to his statement of them still being alive, as the Cassomir slides closer as well – knowing all this shifting might cause Aidric further discomfort. Her hand is raised, fingers reacquainting themselves with his cheek, when her eyes lock with his from closer proximity. Before she leans in and presses her lips against his in a brief but gentle kiss.

Taking the confidence in Raelyn’s leadership in stride, he nods. “She strikes me as someone who will make the job bend to her will,” Aidric remarks lightly. The rest of the situation is listened to carefully. He frowns thoughtfully before he nods. “Probably the wisest choice. Your family mislikes strife so there’s no way to victory through discord.” He glances at her curiously though. “Though all things being equal, would you have wanted to be chosen?” he inquires.

Aidric turns away after his admission. “Stupid, I know, but yes, something like that.,” he mutters, as he gets rein on his embarrassment.Though when he has regained his composure he looks back and when she leans in for that kiss he returns it, carefully, but tenderly.

"Oh yes," Adrienne agrees in regards to Raelyn, fondness flickering there in her gaze as well as pride. "She will be a formidable Viscountess, and she already is doing quite well." As far as a mere Huntress and cousin is able to tell. The question about Adrienne and her wish to have been chosen instead of Emilia… that seems to be a slightly trickier topic. Green eyes shift away from Aidric, as the freckled Cassomir considers. "It's not so much about what I would have wished, but what I would have thought would serve Ironhold better…", she murmurs, still loud enough for the Carling to hear. "Raelyn thought that tradition… and her superior knowledge of her own sister should be enough to justify her decision. While I… am aware I was originally made a Huntress as a second option."

Her eyes flit back to Aidric, meeting his gaze. "So yes, I would have wanted to be chosen at the time, as I thought, Emilia's choice would pose a problem. But as it is… This problem is for me to defend before other Huntresses now who share the doubt I had myself."

Then there is his slightly embarrassed reaction, to admit he had actually done something to save her, and Adrienne cannot help but notice, not commenting on it in anyway, just storing that brief impression away in her mind to digest later. When her kiss is returned, he will feel her lips curving upwards against his - until she breaks the kiss and leans back, pulling away from him, her green eyes showing a warm flicker as they are still locked with his gaze. "It's not stupid," she says, with a slight lift of a brow. "And in fact, I would have done the same for you."

After the kiss Aidric smiles, though clearly not entirely at ease with the discussion of feelings and gallantry. “I am glad,” he says of Adrienne doing the same for him. There is a moment of quiet from the Carling before he moves to the safer ground of political intrigue. “So, what do you plan to say if you are called upon to defend Emilia’s selection as Mistress of the Hunt, since you share some of your sisters’ concerns?” he asks. Despite the sudden shift of topic, he does not move away, and indeed leans softly against her side, careful not to aggravate their wounds.

Adrienne’s brows lift slightly at the question. “I would say she has proven more than once she can handle herself as a Huntress, that she has the qualities that are required. And most importantly, that Raelyn trusts her, and is convinced she can handle the position.” The reply is offered in a matter-of-factly tone, her expression once again that of a stoic Cassomir. The corners of her mouth lift slightly, when the freckled Huntress meets Aidric's gaze again with hers.

“It would require me to display the same conviction as Raelyn in this matter, but I believe me speaking up for Emilia would silence many of those who doubt. Why, so far no one has even approached me directly, as they already are aware of my supporting her, in words and deeds.” Her glance takes on a pensive expression, as she leans against him, taking care not to cause him any discomfort . “I already have revised my opinion of Emilia, at least in some regard. And as things are, I am required to do what is best for Ironhold and the Huntresses.”

“One’s mercy, you Cassomirs really do live up to your reputations. Everything is all duty this, family that, not a breath for personal ambition. It’s all very refreshing,” he remarks through a smile. “I wonder if life is easier your way, just doing what needs to be done for family without constantly trying to make the world fit your whims.” A pause then, and the smile widens. “Not that I am thinking of converting to that way of thinking, but it is interesting to see close up. Goes a way to explaining why I’ve not got on with your family too well in the past.” He ponders that, before he adds with a quick kiss to Adrienne’s cheek, “With certain exceptions.”

Adrienne shifts ever so slightly when she hears the reply a certain Carling knight graces her with, she exhales, and yes, she shakes her head slowly at his comment. "I know very well your sense of familial loyalty might be lacking," she remarks, the tone matter-of-factly despite the glare she gives him, but with that smile upon his features she cannot really be wroth at Aidric for his comment, now, can she? Even so a fist comes up, as if she were really tempted to administer a punch to his upper arm, before she changes her mind in the last moment. Leaving it at the glare, then, out of compassion for his injured chest. "I'm curious to see how you'd adapt to such a view, Sir Trust-No-One, whether you could find such faith deep within your soul… But no," green eyes flash with tempered amusement, as they give him an assessing gaze. "I doubt such will ever be possible." Said with raised brows and a slight shrug of her shoulders. Her head tilting then to the side, as she observes that rather sneaky kiss to her cheek. "How can you be so sure?", she inquires then with a bit of tease in her voice, "that you are getting along better with me than with the rest of the family…?"

Aidric holds up a hand to stop the punch only to lower it when it is proved to be a bluff. "And you wonder why I don't trust?" he says returning a glare of his own before he takes a sip of his mostly forgotten lemon water. "Though, I do like Sir Trust-No-One better than Sir Grumpy-Face if you're taking notes," he adds with a sly smile before lowering his cup to his lap again. "Anyhow, it might surprise you, but I have tried having faith in people, many of them my kin, but each time I am taught the lesson that I can only trust people to look to their own interests. So, now I look to mine." A look is given when Adrienne asks that last question and it is paired with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We have more fun arguing than the others," he says before lowering his voice to add. "And more fun after the arguing is done."

That her glare is returned seems to amuse the freckled Cassomir lady. "What? You don't trust me either?", she quips, turning her gaze away from him as she takes another sip from her cup. "Yes, you are right. I am only pursuing my own interests here. And yours only a little. That is, I would, if…" Words trail off and she gives Aidric a meaningful glance, meeting the mischief in his gaze with a very similar expression. "True," she agrees to his rather fitting assessment. "As I've heard reconciliation after an argument can be rather… delightful." Not that they have quarrelled much thus far.

Her head turns as there is some commotion of passing footfalls coming from beyond the door through which she entered, and her expression dims a little, as she is reminded of the time she has already spent on this 'brief visit to check on a wounded'. "How long are you planning to stay?", Adrienne inquires in a low murmur, as her green eyes flit back to the Carling.

“Well I don’t after that admission,” Aidric remarks, teasing Adrienne once more. As to the delightful ways to resolve an argument, he nods. “They can be,” he says, smiling. The noise beyond the door earns a look and a frown of annoyance. Just when he was getting out of the muddled haze of whatever the healers had been giving him. He finishes his drink in a gulp then answers, his eyes seeking hers in turn. “A few more days, depending on how well my wounds heal. Will you come see me again?”

Adrienne smiles, strangely enough, at that tease about him not trusting her, a glint there in her green eyes as they linger on the former Thorn with a bit of fondness. Whatever hopes had been for how this brief visit may unfold - which had been admittedly low - they are crushed when the Huntress is reminded of the 'official' reason for her visit, she looking none too pleased as well at the realization. When Aidric empties his cup of water, Adrienne's hand reaches to accept it as she meets his gaze, her lips curving at the question, which she probably does not need much time to consider, despite the moment she takes before giving her reply. Which will come in word and deed, as she leans into the Carling and presses her lips gently against his, the kiss slightly more lingering this time. The "Yes, I will," perhaps an obsolete addition, but she offers it nonetheless, before she pulls away and moves to stand. "It's my responsibility to check if our guest from Sunsreach recovers well, after he was chewed on by a boar during an event organized by the Mistress of the Hunt." This hint of an excuse given with a glance over her shoulder and a chuckle, before she leaves the Carling to his book and leisure.

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