07.30.3013: Challenge Him
Summary: Jarek approaches Devon to offer an apology and some advice.
Date: 30 July 2013
Related: Various scenes around the Devon and Victor betrothal.
Devon Jarek 

Commercial District, Volkan
High above the stories of industry and industrial marketplace is a more commercial marketplace. This secondary tower is directly connected to the Blackspyre more than a mile away by an elevated roadway running high above the factories below. From this vantage point, shops and eateries overlook the city below, the spiderweb of glowing lava in its transparent tubes standing out starkly against the dark gray stone of the factories and towers. Above the multi-tier mall, another fifty stories of residential units rise into the haze-darkened skies.
July 30, 3013

Devon Grantham nee Volen has escaped the Blackspyre without guards or escorts, fleeing into Volkan to spend some time in this place that she is suppose to soon call home. Ever since she was informed of her pending marriage vows, every day has been a new experience of weariness. She is starting to learn the best way to avoid arguments with Victor is to avoid him. So here she wants, striding through the various kiosk-style vendors and sidewalk eateries that clutter the central roadway of the district. There is a particular tiredness around her expression, her pale eyes slightly dim as she lets thoughts roll around in her head.

Having received word that more of his house's workers had spoken to the tabloids, Jarek does the sensible thing and goes to the Blackspyre to apologize to his former house guests about the incident. He takes his time getting there, however, to formulate his apology and to gather his thoughts about what he's just done. That's when one of the two people he was hoping to speak to comes into sight. "Lady Devon, may I have a moment of your time?" he begins.

Devon is shattered from her internal thoughts, looking up at the sound of her name. She blinks several times before she straightens up a bit, casting the man a slight smile. "Of course, Young Lord Jarek," she says politely as she clasps her hands together in front of her pelvis. Her pale eyes dance over him briefly before she alights her gaze on his. She waits to see what he may wish to speak to her about before interrupting.

"I wished to apologize for any bad press the rather loose tongued servants of my house seemed to have been of late. I would assure that this sort of thing never happens, but I am unsure why it happened this time. So, if there was any harm done, please apprise me of it so that I can make to rectify said offence." Jarek offers a slight bowing of himself fully to her. He straightens, "That all said, would you care to share with me just exactly went on? This is family we'd be speaking of after all."

Devon blinks a touch in surprise at his apology, and she shakes her head with a bit of a fragile smile. "Sir, please… you needn't apologize. Sir Victor and I… well… we don't do well when required to interact one-and-one, and it is a challenge that we must work on together. You don't have any responsibilities in that regard. It was a mere mixup, and hardly once worth correcting as it will be truth in a month or more to come." Her expression seems a touch tight at that admission, but she forces her smile back on her lips. "You wish to know the topic of the argument with Sir Victor?"

Jarek nods to Devon, "Very well, though I am still sorry about it. Considering how Agnes and might react to a similar mixup if I were to travel with her to say, Nubilus, for a visit… I think it's only fair to offer the apology to you both." then another nod, "If you aren't uncomfortable discussing it with me. I hate to think that your betrothal is entirely ill fated as the wine on the bedsheets suggested."

Devon looks a touch embarrassed at his words on her betrothal, and she clears her throat a bit as she looks away. "Sir Jarek," she begins, almost cautiously. "I'm certain that our betrothal is not ill-fated, but there are times I am convinced that Victor and I are like oil and water… we get along as long as we remain indifferent to each other, but once things start getting mixed up, there's no cohesion to be had." She straightens her shoulders back a bit, looking up into his eyes as she does. "He was upset over the dancing last night, between myself and other guests. I was upset that he refused my own request to dance. I demanded to know how he thought we were suppose to act in public. The fight ensued."

Jarek listens, then nods slightly, "I see… I suppose it might help you to learn abit about your bethrothed… from those of his family and close relations. Vic doesn't dance… I don't think I've ever seen the man dance once. He also doesn't like horses, granted almost every one of the Khournas family doesn't like horses… but Vic doesn't like them with a passion." he chuckles softly, "And, I suppose you feel he's being unreasonable? He probably is… he isn't the best at public relations and thus tends to stumble through that part of being a noble. He'll need you, to nudge him the right direction at times." Jarek pauses, "If you think it might help you out personally, I could speak with him and you at the same time. Mediate the meeting, so that you two talk and not fight. It isn't healthy for you, Lady Devon, to constantly bicker and fight like this."

Devon listens to the Young Lord, though by the end, she is looking grim. She turns her gaze aside a bit, bare shoulders rolling slight before she releases a deep exhale. "You are right, it isn't healthy for either of us." Though she seems to be carefully mulling over his offer to mediate their relationship — if one could call what she has with Victor by that name. She finally shakes her head, looking a touch reserved. "No, Sir Jarek… I don't think we are at that point. Yet." She frowns a bit. "But I will heed some of your advice."

Jarek nods to Devon, "The offer will stand for you if you ever come to need it." he smiles at her, "Vic is lucky, on a lot of ways, to have been bethrothed such a person as you Lady Devon. I know I was joking when I said to challenge him, give him hell, but Vic needs it. This isn't all folly and though there are obstacles on the road, and rough gravel beneath you two at present. I doubt your relationship is ill-fated." he pauses again, glancing around, "Have you studied the culture of the Khourni? My family's culture is a bit different than his, but we learned many of the same ideals and traditions. There are scores of texts and vids about them here in Volkan. They may help you, so that at least you aren't the one who steps on a toe. Also, I suggest metal plated shoes, if dancing with Agnes is any indication that is the best advice I can give."

The Ash Witch lifts those glass-colored eyes to meet his own gaze. She straightens her shoulders back a bit at his suggestion, and she frowns just a touch. "Sound advice, Sir… thank you." Then she releases a little sigh as her shoulders fall, and she looks around the commercial center with a bit of forlorn. "I don't wish to disappoint him, nor the Khournas House." She then takes a small step away. "I wish you luck with Sir Agnes… I have nothing but good things about her. If you will excuse me, I should perhaps go see if my betrothed is ready to… talk."

Jarek nods to Devon again, and adds a smile. "Lady Devon, I wish you luck with Vic. And you won't let anyone down. You've proven your mettle plenty and I have no doubts you two will at least be able to make peace if not begin to fully care for each other." he gives her a slight bow, "Good luck, and remember that Vic needs the challenge. He doesn't respond well to someone without fight in them."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License