[A] Won't Take "No" for an Answer [Sephen]

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[Lilla Rosalba]

Despite the letter she had been told her uncle had sent, as Lilla arrived in her coach and retinue of servants -- an inconvenient display of courtly pomp, courtesy of Miraz -- there appeared no one ready to receive her. She gave a bit of a smile of satisfaction -- she might actually get to meet the man in the first thirty minutes of arrival without having to worry about curtseying, introductions, and moving her things about.

It would be nice to be received in a human, personable manner. She'd like that.

Not that she was particularly liking the idea of any of this. Miraz would not show her the letters of their correspondence regarding the proposed arrangement -- which Lilla refused to call "marriage" -- but from the tone in Miraz's letters and his injunction to be persuasive, Lilla suspected the Lord had his reservations, else he would not need the persuading. He was difficult. She had heard he had a reputation for that, and from the few times she had seen him at court, she believed him.

And she would be persuasive. She'd use his hesitation in this matter to her advantage. There would be no marriage, if she could prevent it. And Lilla believed, above all else, that she could. The persuasiveness of rhetoric and the powers of women could hold great effect when coupled with dignity and self-assurance. She was not going to meet the man she would (or might) marry. She was going to meet another noble, as his equal. And she was not leaving until an agreement was made that was mutually beneficial.

And so she told herself this as she took her footman's offered hand, stepping out of the coach and looking at the de la Braose homestead. By now, it appeared some servants from within had been alerted to her arrival, for the began to line outside, looking down obediently, hands clasped before them. A bit disorganised, but still too formal for Lilla's liking.

She sighed slightly and pressed on, soft embroidered slippers crunching upon the shifting pebbles that adorned the entrance, until she had arrived upon the doorstep of the Manor, flanked by not only her servants, but what servants de la Braose had on hand.

[Lord Sephen De La Braose]

   To be perfectly honest, Sephen wasn't looking forward to this visitor at all. Having someone unaware of his allegiances around was one thing; having the aforementioned person being so very close to Miraz was nothing short of a nightmare. And, to top off this wonderful set of details, the guest in question had arrived with an entourage. Perfect.

   Sephen was a pragmatic man, and he knew that besides the fact that he would not have the time for a spouse, that the lady Lilla was merely being used as a pawn by Miraz to try and maneuver Sephen under his thumb. He felt sorry for the woman in that regard, but he refused to be swayed even by the promise of power; he knew all too well that those who did not have Miraz's favor were known to 'disappear', regardless of the power that they held. But... he was still a Lord. And despite his reluctance, he had to play the part his title assigned him to. He would be polite, he would be hospitable, he would be gentlemanly... but he would not invest his emotions in this woman he had never met. Killian had told him on more than one occasion that his stoicism made for a remarkable political tool, and it was one Sephen intended to exercise.

   As prepared as he was, Sephen sighed to himself as he heard the staff fluttering about, as it appeared the Lady had arrived much earlier than anticipated. For a moment he paused, looking at his own reflection in the mirror, straightening his clothes before moving on downstairs to greet his guest. The lady, of course, looked just as her miniature portrayed, though there was an almost determined look in her eyes that had been sorely absent in the picture he had received just days ago. Sephen bowed politely, welcoming the lady into his home and apologizing for his lack of preparedness.

   The inside of the homestead was impeccably tidy, almost uncomfortably so for Sephen's liking; it almost felt like he was an intruder in his own home. While Margery showed the lady's own staff where to put her things, Sephen nodded his head towards the door.

   "Since it would seem you are to be staying a while, it would be only appropriate I show you where everything is." He said conversationally, "Would you rather rest first? You have had quite a long journey, no doubt, coming all the way from the Telmarine citadel."

[Lilla Rosalba]

The lord appeared in time and Lilla, at least, had to take some comfort in the thought that her uncle would not hand her over to any old sponge. He was handsome, at least. But perhaps that was mere coincidence.

And he spoke with a keenness in his eyes. He was, at least, observant. And so she let her demeanour speak for her more than her words. Tilting her chin upwards somewhat, she gave a slight smile, shaking her head. She might have been insulted he would have suggested the rest; it might have been belittling. But it might have been courteousy. He didn't know what she was made of, after all, just yet, but she'd let him know.

"Your lord is most gracious to his guest, but no," he said decidedly, stepping aside as a servant brushed by with her trunk of things. "I find sitting in carriages to cause exhaustion from underuse. It's the worst sort of fatigue; the only way to be cured of it is to do something. So, if, Lord Sephen, you will be gracious enough, I'd like to see the place."

He'd think it was because she was inspecting the estate over which she would shortly be mistress. She was thinking it would be a tactful way to avoid an initial conversation. It was easy to talk of nothings. Tapestries. The progress of the estate. Numbers and profits. Plans. These were how things were run, so they were not nothings, of course, but they were sterile. Mechanical. They did not involve emotion.

"Unless, of course," she said with a bit of a smirk, "you would like a respite already from this." It was a good way to see in what light he was looking towards this arrangement.