The Lookalike Lord

[Quio]

33rd of Saun, Arc 716
midday

"So this is the place, huh?" Hart asked. He was standing on the front doorstep of the little house, his eyes alight, completely at ease.

Quio was standing beside him, and he was not at ease. Mostly he was trying not to fidget. He knew he looked out of place, shabbier than ever now that his shirt and coat had been shot through the back with an arrow. He really needed to get them patched up. "I guess," he said reluctantly. But he was sort of hoping that they had come to the wrong place after all.

Unfortunately, he knew it was a feeble hope. Hart's tried-and-true method of gaining information was to go to the town's harlots, who could be claimed to know everything about everyone who had ever come within sniffing distance of the brothel. The ladies of the House of Roses had seemed... relatively certain of where the Lord Tristan Venora lived.

Though they had giggled while giving out directions as if the whole thing was just too silly. One, more brazen than the others, had asked, "What, you forgot where you live, m'lord?"

And Hart, of course, had been delighted. He'd given that one a parting kiss on the cheek. "So he does look just like me!" he'd said as soon as they were back on the streets.

Now the lord-lookalike was critically inspecting the house that the painted ladies had pointed them to. "The supposed abode of the uncanny Tristan Venora," he said, in a practiced voice free of his usual accent. He looked over at Quio. "And I sound like him? What do you think?"

"Maybe try a little huskier," the Yludih said without much enthusiasm.

"Ah yes," Hart tried, and this time his voice came out remarkably like Tristan's. "So here we are about to see my dear doppelganger, Lord Tristan Venora," he said, practicing, "You know, the very handsome noble you mistakenly kissed?" There was a wicked pause while he switched languages, returning back to his own voice. "So Quio, you think you have a type, or--?"

"Shut it," the Yludih said, still somewhat embarrassed about the whole debacle. He was never going to live this down. To have kissed the wrong man (on the street!), and a noble at that. Hart was enjoying the idea of it too much. "It was only a quick kiss on the neck," he said, for perhaps the eightieth time in the last few days. "I mean, it was nothing special."

"I don't know, Quio, sounded romantic to me." Hart reached out and hammered on the door. "I do wonder though," he said, a little more serious now, "You think I could just walk right in? Wanna try?"

"No." Quio was shaking his head. "Definitely not. It would be rude. Besides... I know you don't want to hear it, but I think we need to be cautious about this. The guy's a noble... and he said something strange about his family..." What had it been? That Hart might have been given away to avoid a family misfortune? Something like that?

But Hart just waved a hand. "Noble-shnoble," he said. "I've known --and kissed, and crossed-- quite a few more nobles than you have, and I still have my head. So, seriously though, you think we should just barge in, go for the big entrance, or nah? Could be fun."

When at last the door began to open, it would be to the sight and sound of the fake-nobleman and fake-Biqaj still standing on the doorstep, bickering pleasantly back and forth. At the first sign of movement Quio shut his mouth, standing to attention, back as straight as he could make it without straining his hurt shoulder. He wondered if he should preemptively salute. Hart simply smirked beside him, ever amused. His smile widened to something beatific for the girl who had opened the door.

"Hello," he purred out in his best Tristan voice, seeming quite relaxed. "You gonna let me in, or what?"

"Speaking in Rakahi" "Speaking in Common" "Speaking in Ulehi"

[Faith Augustin]

Master would be home soon and so Faith had changed into her good black dress, tied back her hair and applied a little make up. Master liked it if she was presentable when he got home and she made sure that she had poured him a glass of wine and that the table was laid ready for his meal. She had his meal cooking and the smell of it permeated the house, teasing the tastebuds. She had spent the morning busy and Master's home was spick and span. She had prepared a light lunch for him, but filling and tasty; crispy breadcrumb coated chicken. Alongside that she served a roasted vegetable pasta which was flavoured with herbs and home made bread.

As it was about the time that she would expect him back, Faith was waiting with his glass in her hand, ready to give it to him as soon as he walked in. However, as the door knocked, she wondered what to do. Was it Master playing a prank, she wondered? It might be, in fairness, so she took his wine with her and opened the door.

And there he was, speaking to her and asking her if she was going to let him in? He was in a strange mood, that was for certain, but it was not hers to question.

So, she dropped a perfectly executed curtsy and held the door open for him "Master. Your wine" she held the glass for him and closed the door behind him as he came in. "Have you had a good morning, Master? You food is ready when you wish it" she said and then stood, awaiting his orders.

Apparently, yes, they did look a lot alike.

[Quio]

Master. That was one thing Quio had not been expecting. The girl --she was a slave by her brands, not just a servant-- called him Master.

"Hart--" he almost said, still uneasy about the whole thing, but the lookalike simply gave the girl a cheerful smile and strolled in, taking the wine from her hand with a modest, "Thank you."

Then he downed the glass in one.

Quio felt himself stuck in the doorway, unable to enter the house like a wraith --though of course that was just in his mind, Yludih had no such limitations other than those of propriety-- and he ogled as Hart knocked the alcohol back. When the false-lord was finished, he looked thoughtfully at the empty glass in his hand. "Wow," Hart said in a mild tone. "Well that was excellent. Sort of sorry I drank it so fast."

Quio was still outside the door.

"Ruq, won't you come inside?"

"I don't know if I should..." He stopped, then painstakingly switched to Common. "I mean, I don't know. I... I don't stay. No." He was thinking of leaving. Or maybe just giving the gig up now before things could get... bad. But Hart could read it on his face.

"Nonsense," the other man said, and glided back to the doorway and helped Quio through, as if he was elderly and needed an arm to lean on. Quio batted him away but reluctantly stepped inside.

"Um," he said, looking over at the pretty girl in the black dress, the one who had called Hart Master. "Um. You don't... think?" He couldn't think of the word he really wanted, 'you don't mind or care'. He was trying to ask permission if he could stay from someone who actually belonged here.

But Hart just rolled his eyes, setting the empty wineglass down on the nearest flat surface, and looked around.

"Nice place," he eventually said. He looked over at the girl, hands in his pockets. "I mean, it looks different. You do something special? No?"

At her mention of food he perked up noticeably, but then looked down at himself. "Ah yes, but maybe a change of clothes first?" he asked, considering his state of dress. To Quio he was wearing the clothes he normally did, a simple shirt and pants. To the girl, however, his clothing might look quite... plain, compared to usual. "Acting like a normal person, ugh," he said by way of explanation. "Like, boy, it was like people out there expected me to have an everyday-man's job. This one over here--" he hooked at thumb at Quio, who was standing incredibly stiffly by the door still, barely inside the house. "--I picked him up at the Blacksmith Arms, first thing he asked me, 'you work at the docks?' Can you believe that?" A pause, then a radiant smile. He looked incredibly pleased with himself. "I know, I know! I am that good. He made me so happy, I thought I'd treat him to lunch! And to a couple of rounds, so don't mind if he hiccups."

Quio's face burned. "Har--" He cleared his throat. "M'lord," he corrected, then flatly, with a look cast over at the girl as if to assure her, "I not drunk."

"Well, not yet," Hart said, and moved them all towards the table. He looked down at himself again before sitting and shrugged. "I suppose the clothes can wait. Would you mind fetching some more wine? Two fresh glasses." A pause, another smile. "Well three, if you'd like to indulge. Lunch smells heavenly by the way, I don't know how you do it."

"M'lord," Quio grated out again, now sitting straight-backed at the table where Hart had deposited him as if he expected a tack to spring out of the seat to jab him in the rear, "We already lunch." When Hart looked over at him, he shook his head, ever so slightly. Do not eat the nobleman's food, was what he was trying to convey.

"Oh yes, that's right!" the half-Biqaj said, and patted his stomach, looking over at the girl apologetically. "Still, I'm a growing boy, I work hard, don't you think? Always room for more."

"No," Quio said emphatically. He looked quickly over at the girl, knowing it would probably be odd for someone the 'lord' had picked up at a bar to be bossing him around. He added, "Um. I mean. You be fat, m'lord."

"Fine," Hart said grumpily. He put his elbow on the table and looked away from Quio as if he was displeased with him. Then rested his chin on his hand and said, to the girl: "What about you, my dear, have you eaten?"

"Speaking in Rakahi" "Speaking in Common" "Speaking in Ulehi"

[Faith Augustin]

Master drunk his wine quickly, much quicker than Faith had ever seen him do so. She took the bottle and refilled his glass without question, though. However, when he asked her if she had done something with the 'place', Faith considered that this was most odd. Master never, ever knocked the door, he always burst through beautifully. He never gulped his wine, that would be rude and Master was never rude. And as for noticing if she'd done something around the house? She had painted three rooms and he hadn't batted an eyelid.

And then his clothes. Change his clothes? But where were the clothes she laid out for him this morning? She didn't quite dare to say anything, but then he did something that, in all the time that he had owned her and with all that they had experienced he had never done. He asked her if she wanted some wine and Faith looked at him levelly, then poured two glasses of wine. All the time, she was thinking and considering and really she was in something of a state of panic, but she had grown to know Master quite well and psychologically, this behaviour wasn't him. Whoever this person was with him, why would he listen to him? Someone from the Blacksmith's Arms? She stood, preparing the food, slicing the homemade bread. Even in the midst of this confusion and upset, Faith was pleased that putting the cheese in the bread had lead to what she wanted it to - nice slices with warm dots of melted cheese in it. Master would approve. Maybe she should just...

"What about you, my dear, have you eaten?" he asked and Faith knew. She never, ever ate without his permission. She never ate before him and she always waited to see if he wished to eat with her or whether he wished to eat alone. It was an important change in her rules, for with Jamal it had been very different and so Faith turned around and calmly and meekly put the plate down in front of him and then lifted the bread knife. "Thick or thin slice, Master?" she asked and she quickly (as she had practiced just recently in fact) moved, turning a slice into a thump, with the butt of the knife, on Master's head, with the aim of knocking him out.

If that worked, she turned the knife to the man with him and brandished it like she knew what she was doing "What trickery is this! What have you done to him!? Speak or I will pin you to the wall by your entrails!!"

She certainly seemed to entirely mean it. Not least because, if that was Master and she had gotten it wrong, then she was going to be in a whole world of trouble.

► Show Spoiler

le sigh. Sorry. She's mad. Just.. mad. But too many things too different and she'll protect Tristan if it kills her

[Tristan Venora]

Tristan had spent the whole trial in his workshop, making a sculpture of a rich and very vain merchant. The woman had complained on and on that she didn’t really look like that (which he had agreed with – in reality her nose was even bigger, and she had a terrible overbite!) and would refuse to pay for such a terrible work of art. They had screamed at each other for about a break, and she had only relented after he had finally called the guards who had insisted that the sculpture looked quite flattering, truth to be told.

The whole incident had been quite entertaining all in all, but it had made him terribly hungry, so he was really looking forward to one of Faith’s delicious meals now. As he opened the door and stepped into the house, he expected Faith to greet him enthusiastically, take the heavy bag with his sculpting tools and tell him that his lunch would be served immediately, but there was no Faith to be seen. He stopped dead in his tracks, furrowed his brow in confusion and looked around. That was definitely unusual …

It was then that he heard voices from the dining area and then a loud scream. Faith was screaming! Faith was in danger! He dropped his bag abruptly and rushed towards her only to stop dead in his tracks again (it seemed to be a common occurrence that trial). His slave stood there, threatening a man with a most familiar face with a bread knife, of all things (that dagger he kept hidden in the bedroom would have been so much more effective).

"Hart?" he wondered, barely loudly enough for her to hear him. Was that him? His secret half-brother that Grandmother Ebony had tried to get rid of? The man that Ruq had mistaken him for? Why was Faith threatening him? She should have welcomed him with open arms! Ruq was there as well, looking slightly uncomfortable. What in the name of the Immortals was going on?

He made a step towards the table, and then another one only to stop again and look from Faith to Hart and Ruq and back. What was he supposed to do now? Help Faith? Help Hart? Help Ruq? Stay in the background to avoid getting hurt? Try to explain the whole situation and make sure that nobody else got hurt?

Even trials later he would not be able to explain what exactly had compelled him to do what he ultimately did. Maybe it had been too long since he had pranked somebody or maybe he just wanted to teach his slave a lesson. Whatever Hart had done, his half-brother did not deserve to be treated like that. In Tristan’s opinion Faith should have showered him with gifts!

"What in Zanik’s name is going on?" he demanded to know as he rushed towards the table, as if he were ready to fight the slave if necessary. His eyes practically seemed to be ablaze. "Why are you threatening Lord Venora with a knife?" His hand hovered near his sword cane for a moment as if he were thinking about drawing it (although he barely knew how to use it). "Drop it immediately or I will call the guards! I am not joking!" He abruptly turned towards Ruq, and the expression on his face changed from angry to worried (he was so proud of his acting skills just then!). "Love, are you alright? Did this madwoman hurt you or my brother?"

[Quio]

The girl returned with the food and a large bread knife, asking meekly what sort of slice Hart wanted, and then everything went crazy.

She lifted her arm with the knife and brought it down on the top of Hart's head. For one instant, before she hit, Quio thought she was going to cut right through him, and everything inside him went cold. Then she hit with the butt of the knife, knocking Hart unexpectedly forward, and his hand went to his head in shock, and the girl brandished the knife at Quio --who had leapt from his seat, knocking it to the floor-- "What trickery is this! What have you done to him!? Speak or I will pin you to the wall by your entrails!!"

Entrails? Quio thought wildly, staring at her as if she had just done a full head rotation. Who the fuck is this girl? His hand had automatically dropped to the dagger pinned to his hip. He needed to get to Hart to make sure he was okay, but the girl was closer to him than Quio was, and he didn't know if he could approach without her attacking--

Right when he had opened his mouth to say something, immortals know what, there was the sound of the door, a clatter and rush of feet, and another Hart came running into the room.

Lord Tristan Venora, Quio thought faintly with some relief, his hand moving from his dagger. Surely the man would clear things up--

And then the other opened his mouth.

"What in Zanik’s name is going on? Why are you threatening Lord Venora with a knife?" He had some sort of cane with him and his hand went to it as though it was a weapon. "Drop it immediately or I will call the guards! I am not joking!" He turned to Quio, and his face changed to something more tender. "Love, are you alright? Did this madwoman hurt you or my brother?"

Quio was left staring at him with his mouth hanging open. "Um--" he said, right as Hart said from the table, "Ow. Well she did knock me on the head, but I suppose I'll be glad it wasn't the pointy end. Still, I'm not bleeding, am I?"

Quio immediately swiveled that way, taking a step forward to stand beside Tristan, facing the girl with the bread knife. Hart was sitting upright in his chair --thank the immortals-- and seemed alright. He was wincing, but his eyes flicked to Tristan's face, taking it in, and Quio could see the hidden glee there. Despite being knocked on the head, he was trying to hide a smile.

"Don't worry, brother. Ruq," he said. "I think this is my fault. I should have explained better what was going on--"

"Are you okay?" Quio burst out in Rakahi, unable to help himself, not knowing whether or not he should play along. As far as he was concerned, his first priority was still getting Hart away from the girl --the madwoman, Tristan had called her-- before she could do anything else.

If she thought Hart was her master, then she was less likely to attack him.

"M'lord," he said to Hart, glancing over at Tristan uneasily, then back forward again. "Perhaps you should move away..."

"But I was just about to have lunch," Hart pouted.

Quio took another quick step forward, watching the girl with the knife. It was just a bread knife, not exactly good for stabbing, but she could still do considerable damage... especially if her thoughts ran towards things like I will pin you to the wall by your entrails.

"Please. Don't hurt him more," he said in a low voice, and grabbed Hart up by the elbow, dragging him away.

"My lunch--" the false-noble protested, and winced again when he stood.

"You can have lunch somewhere safe," Quio insisted.

"Oh there's no danger! She meant well."

"She meant to knock your lights out," Quio said dryly, and put Hart behind him.

"At least get me my wine," Hart said, and Quio rolled his eyes before cautiously stepping forward and taking the glass from the table. He returned it to the lookalike's hand, and Hart took a small sip.

"Still excellent," he said, then wavered on his feet. Quio automatically grabbed out to keep him up. "But I do feel a bit woozy--" Despite that, the man grinned weakly over at his double. "By the way, nice to meet you, brother," he said as cheerfully as he could. "Interesting life a noble lives, eh? Though I think... maybe I should sit back down."

OOC: No worries about attacking my NPC, lol. I was just glad you didn't chop him up! I read the word thump in Faith's post as 'thumb' and for one second thought she'd lopped his thumb off! That was somewhat alarming. ^_^

"Speaking in Rakahi" "Speaking in Common" "Speaking in Ulehi"

[Faith Augustin]

Why Master did what he did was not something that Faith would ever question, but as she felt the thump against what she thought was his head, she was horrified. But she had to save him. She had to stop whatever this foul monster was doing to him. Her anger was boiling as she looked at Quio and she waved the knife at him. "You don't! You don't!! You give him back, what have you done to him? Huh? OH!" the last was an exclamation of shock as Master walked in. Or... Faith looked between the two of them as they started talking and even the usually pale girl felt all the colour drain from her face. She stood, knife in hand and mouth open in shock as she looked from one to the other. Then to the first and back to the second.

"But.... but" she looked utterly shell shocked and she heard what people said, but there was one word that permeated into her brain.

So, she looked between the two of them and then, as though she realised what she held, she dropped the knife. Ironically, she risked doing more damage with the dropping of it, and Hart was lucky his fingers were out of the way, but thankfully they were. With wide and serious silver eyes, the young girl looked between the three of them. Focusing her attention on the two of them that looked so alike, she shook her head to clear it. Think, Faith, she thought to herself and she put things together here. The man not in Master's clothes, who did not act like him but who looked like him. The man in Master's clothes, with the gleam in his eyes which she recognised. He was even holding the cane, the swordstick that he had bought for himself on the trial that he had bought her.

That man, the one who ran in. That was her Master. He moved like him, he looked like him (which wasn't all it was cracked up to be in terms of identifying him, all things considered) and his eyes... they held the gaze that she was used to seeing.

In the moment that she realised that, Faith realised something else. That gaze that she was used to seeing was one of pleasure and delight. Delight like the time that he told her of pranking his cousin's slave. He was delighted and pleased and he did not want her to recognise him.

So, she knelt immediately next to Hart and she spoke, earnestly. "I am so sorry, Master" she said, her voice quiet. She was speaking to the man who she knew as Master, but she simply did not look at him when she spoke, her eyes down to the ground "I... I have done it again, haven't I? I did not know you had another brother, Master, and when this man came and.. I have made a most dreadful mistake and I am sorry" she did not say any more to Hart, but she looked at Quio and spoke again, her eyes meeting his for the whole time that she spoke "My apologies, sir. I have behaved in a way that I believed was protecting my Master, but I have made a mistake."

He had another brother? Another one he hadn't told her about? The first one she'd flung a brush handle at and then tackled to the ground. Now this one. Faith was starting to really really hope that Master's siblings were now at least all accounted for because she really didn't think that she could cope with this much more. How many brothers did he have and when did he think she might actually need to know that sort of thing? To stop this sort of thing happening? She had grown very fond of her owner, but Faith could not quite help a very fond exasperation at another brother he forgot to mention. One was bad, but two? Well, that was just careless as far as she could see.

And then she turned once again to Hart and asked, in the meekest tone she could muster in her current state of amused and irritated and contrite all in one "May I be permitted to serve you all food, please?" it was a direct question so she didn't call him Master, because only one man had that title and she would not call another it. But if she was allowed to, she would serve what she had prepared and pour them more wine. If she was in any way worried about being punished for this mistake (which she was) she did not show it. It was simple, she had done what she did in order to protect him. She was not in full receipt of the facts and a misunderstanding had occurred. She had been punished for far less, for nothing at all in fact and so she was simply stoic. If it came, it did. But in the meantime, she could serve Master and his guests a good meal. And to the man that she believed was Master and Quio, she turned and asked "Please, allow me to serve you?"

[Tristan Venora]

"You are so creative!" the false Hart exclaimed enthusiastically and clapped his hands. "I’ve never seen somebody pinned to the wall by their entrails before, so I’d really like to know how it works. Would they have to be facing the wall or would you cut a hole into their back? Maybe we could talk about it sometimes?" He winked and her and gave her his widest, most brilliant smile. He looked almost as if … as if he were trying to flirt with her!

"You are still a madwoman though", he added, remembering which role he was currently playing. The real Hart would probably be at least a little bit angry that his boyfriend and his brother were being threatened – by a pretty girl which made the whole thing almost enjoyable, truth to be told. Surely the real Hart would have noticed Faith’s good looks as well?

"Nah, you are not bleeding", he informed Hart who had recovered rather quickly and sincerely hoped that the man would play along – which he, surprisingly enough, did. Why had nobody told him about this great guy before? They could have had so much fun together! Oh right, Granny Ebony had tried to get rid of him. "You might get a little bump, but your cousin is a doctor, isn’t he? He’ll take care of you for free!"

"Let him be", he said to Quio and tried to drag the fake-Biqaj away from Hart. "It’s his house, so he’s allowed to eat lunch here and do whatever else he wants which I hope isn’t anything illegal since the dungeon probably isn’t very comfortable. I think I’ll have something to eat as well. And wine. Everything is better with wine, don’t you agree, Lord Venora?"

With that the false Hart sat down at his own table that he currently pretended wasn’t his table and was about to reach for the bottle – as Faith knelt down. He furrowed his brow a bit because he didn’t know what to make of it, sighed because she had recognized him (could the girl read minds?) and then decided that he wouldn’t let it ruin his good mood.

"I have a lot of brothers, besides the one that you attacked with a brush", he informed her as if he were proud of the fact. "And I don’t really mind that you have made a mistake. You couldn’t have known, besides it was funny. Although …" The very suspicious gleam returned ot his eyes.. "… how can you be sure that I’m really Master?"

He finally grabbed the bottle and drank directly from it which he had never done in her presence before. When he was with her, he usually behaved as he didn’t want his bad behaviour to rub off on her, which was a little odd, come to think of it since such things had never mattered to him before.

"As I said before, I’d like to have something to eat, so your offer is definitely appreciated", he informed her, put the bottle down again and grinned. „Sit with us and have something to eat as well. We have a reason to celebrate after all. My brother and I are together, and none of us are dead!"

With that he turned to Hart and Quio. "So how exactly did you find this place? I don’t think I gave you my address – unless I was so drunk that I forgot that I gave it to you? Am I already so famous that everybody knows where I live? I’d love for that to the case!"

[Quio]

With a dying flurry, it seemed the ruse was up. "Well, it was fun while it lasted," Hart said, then touched his head and winced again. "Well, sort of. Though allow me to introduce myself." He bowed. "Hart Qy'ihadi. Doppelganger extraordinaire."

It looked as if they were to eat lunch, so Hart --still a little unsteady on his feet due to the knock on his head-- sat. He was already well at home, despite having been briefly attacked. He was comfortable anywhere.

Quio, on the other hand, hesitated, hovering over Hart's shoulder, and then blew out a sigh. He righted and retook his own seat, the one that was furthest away from everyone else involved. Especially the girl. He didn't know if he trusted her. He especially didn't know if she should be allowed to pick up another knife. He would make sure to watch her closely, just in case... though it seemed, at least for the moment, she was repentant.

That is, until she decided her master was in danger again.

"Nothing illegal, and everything is better with wine," Hart was busy agreeing, still with his cup. "Ruq?" As if it was his own bottle he was offering, not someone else's.

This whole thing was still too bizarre. Now that the two of them were in the room together... it was Hart. Hart everywhere. Quio didn't know where to look. He could have just looked at the floor. But then, it would be hard to keep an eye on the girl if he was staring down at his feet the whole time. "I don't know."

"Oh, go ahead. It would be rude not to."

"...fine." Quio had a thing about not being rude. Well, most of the time. To nobility at least.

"Ruq here can drink anyone under the table. It's a gift," Hart said. Quio grimaced at him, but it was true-- Yludih could not get drunk. "But there's so much to catch up on." Hart had his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand again, gazing over at the true lord. "A potential brother, one I never knew-- it is possible I suppose, as I didn't know my biological father. Biqaj aren't known for their chastity, and my mother was --and still is, if I'm to be honest-- no exception. And you're a sculptor, I hear? Must run in the family. You have to show me your work."

At Tristan's own question, he said, "How I found you? The ladies at the House of Roses." He smiled brightly. "One wouldn't think it, but they're an invaluable resource. Painted women always seem to know where everyone of import --and some not-- live and work and play, and they were happy to tell. Though they were a little confused as to why 'Lord Venora' needed directions to his own house."

"And you really do look like me," he went on, peering closer. "It is strange, isn't it Ruq?"

"Quite," Quio said, glancing between the two of them, again, and shaking his head. If they were dressed exactly alike, he didn't know what he'd do. "Oh," he added, then switched to Common, still not knowing if the girl spoke Rakahi or not. He was pretty sure Tristan at least understood it, even if he couldn't speak it himself. "Yes."

When everyone had wine who wanted it, Hart raised his glass. "To not being dead." He smiled at the slave girl. "Speaking of-- thank you for using only the butt of the knife, you've got quite the swing. What's your name, by the way? I desperately needed it before. A person tries to be smooth... but when one doesn't know anything about the person they're pretending to be, well, I suppose I did my best. You saw right through me, though, didn't you?"

"Are you some sort of bodyguard?" Quio asked her cautiously from his side of the table, still trying to figure the girl out, and Hart copied the question in Common, translating for him. She had been so fierce, before. That sort of loyalty seemed... uncommon to him.

"Yes, do tell," Hart agreed, after he had finished repeating. "I'm sure you, too, have a lot of secrets."

"Speaking in Rakahi" "Speaking in Common" "Speaking in Ulehi"

[Faith Augustin]

When Master smiled and winked at her, Faith blinked in surprise and her expression was delighted. "Of course, if you wish it" she replied and considered that only Master would ever get that excited about entrails. She only knew what they were from having pushed them back in to more corpses than she could count, but that was as it was. She blushed and lowered her eyes when he said she was still a madwoman but Faith could not hide the pleasure that his response to her gave her. Madwoman she might be, she thought with a smile, but she was his madwoman. "I am very sorry" she said, to the three of them, but especially the one that she had hit over the head.

And if Master was surprised that she knew him, well she was surprised right back that he saw straight through her attempt to pretend that she believed that Hart was him, and him Hart. It appeared that they were getting to know each other quite well, all things considered. As for how many brothers he had, Faith couldn't help but look a little plaintive when she asked "How many, exactly? I don't suppose you have portraits of them... or maybe they could start carrying identification, since I have now attacked two of them believing I was defending you and your property?" she was really going to have to stop that, she considered. It wasn't good form. Her eyes widened slightly as he swigged from the bottle and she shook her head slightly. How did she know? "I... hope?" it was the best that she could come up with, because her feeling was so very instinctual.

She bowed her head and served the meal, thanked Master for inviting her to sit with them and made sure that they all had plenty of food and their wine glasses filled before sitting down and doing her best not to get into any more trouble. That they had found Master through the House of Roses was interesting; having been trained there herself Faith couldn't quite help but smile at what they must have thought of Lord Venora asking where he lived. They were very fond of him there, no doubting it and as such they would probably be resisting the urge to ruffle his hair.

"My name is Faith, sir" she replied when he asked her name, but as for his thanks for only using the butt of the knife, she gave a half-smile and shook her head slightly "I am sorry for hurting you, but I believed you were under the influence of some drugs or mind control or.. something. I believe that if the two of you practice together, you will be almost impossible to tell apart, but whilst you have Master's face you lack his mannerisms and behaviours, thus far". The question asked first by Quio, which she did not understand, was then repeated by Hart and Faith considered it. She looked at Tristan and smiled an almost shy smile. "I am Master's slave. It is my duty to meet his needs and wishes, preferably before he has them so that he is happy. That involves keeping him safe. I am not a bodyguard, I am his" she could not really explain it more than that but, the notion that she had secrets? She smiled a most genuine smile at Hart and shook her head. "I have no secrets, sir. I will tell you anything, if Master allows it. If he does not, then I will not" neither of those things were secrets and the bottom line was for Faith that, whatever Tristan told her to do she would do and therefore, she had no secrets, unless he gave them to her by instructing her not to say something.