"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Common sign"
14th of Ymiden, 718"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Common sign"
Titania Krome was due to arrive at any moment, and one last time Hart reviewed the books and notes he'd been studying since four this morning. He had been up late studying, had slept for a handful of breaks, and then was up again with the light, poring over whatever research he could get his hands on.
He had brought along a backpack full of books from Tristan's Estate, and he didn't know if it was enough. He had thought when he had set out on this journey that bringing along a trunk of books --which they would have had to tie to a horse since they were going on horseback and not by carriage-- would have been entirely too much.
Now, waiting for Titania Krome and trying to recall to mind, for the seventeeth time, all the most important trade goods of the Krome duchy, as well as the names and relationships of their noble house back at least four generations, and Krome's current wealth and all the latest news about the duchy-- well, he was starting to think that actually, he hadn't brought enough books.
Titania Krome would know more about her home duchy than any amount of studying Hart could possibly cram in, and all he wanted was not to look inferior. This was his first real play-pretend as the duke of Oakleigh and he wanted to do well, but it was more than that. He didn't want Tristan to look inferior.
"What am I doing?" Hart muttered to himself, even as he opened his notes and sought after Krome's wealth in onyx, gold, and silver. Hell, he would memorize Krome's wealth down to the copper if he thought it would help him at all.
"You're being ridiculous," he criticized, and made himself close the journal, though he opened it again only moments later when he realized he had forgotten entirely Titania's middle name. "Velaine," he said, "Lady Titania Velaine Krome--" and, snapping the journal closed he said now, exasperated, "If she wants you to know her middle name she will introduce herself using it." He sighed. If there was anyone listening outside the door, and he was not entirely certain there wasn't, they would think him a madman.
No. They would think Tristan a madman.
"What have I done?" he asked again, because he was the one who had reached out to the Kromes and set up this meeting.
Lady Titania Krome was now due, and Hart let out a calming breath. He stilled his hands, which wanted to flutter and fidget at his clothing-- well, Tristan's clothing. He felt incredibly unlike himself in the expensive threads. Unable to bear how constricted he felt he untucked the shirt and loosened it at the neck, then unbuttoned and rolled the sleeves. The pants he could do little for, and he thought that in place of some of the books he should have brought casual wear-- but no, what was he thinking. He didn't actually know-- did nobles ever dress casually?
He wasn't sure if his dress mattered, but he felt --and perhaps it was a commoner's superstition-- that the nobility had all manner of secret rituals they expected of one another. He tried to remember if he had ever seen Tristan act, outright, how a noble was expected to. Certainly he dressed well, but was that because he wanted to, or because he had to?
Perhaps Hart need not bother himself. Perhaps Lady Krome would be expecting some eccentricity. A duke was important enough to be considered eccentric, and not just strange. It would be fine, he told himself.
Yes, it would be fine.
Hart made one last adjustment, switching out the fancy dress shoes he wore for a pair of sturdy boots he found in a closet. He wasn't sure whose they were, but he had worn boots that weren't his own for half an arc and ill-fitting shoes didn't really bother him anymore. He glanced at himself in the small mirror in the guest bath, and ran a hand through his hair to displace it, just slightly. There. Then he re-tucked his shirt back in, considered himself, untucked it, and re-tucked it again. Finally he snatched up all the notes and the book on Krome he'd been poring over, and, resisting the urge to tuck the pen in his hand behind his ear, he went to await his guest downstairs.
"My Grace," someone said, and Hart blinked and looked over, yet unused to the title. He smiled easily, trying not to show how truly nervous he was, and said, "Yes?"
"Lady Titania of House Krome has arrived," the person said gently.
"Excellent," Hart said, trying on some bravado for size. "I think I'll meet her at the door."
For the last two trials he had been staying at the governor of Oakleigh Town's guest manor. Hart had been welcomed to treat the manor as if it was his own. What that meant was that he could shut himself in his room in the manor and hyperventilate when the pressure threatened to cave him in; but mostly, he had spent the trials he'd been in the capital city outside of the manor, introducing himself to the people. Wandering the streets, he'd tried to be as approachable as a duke can whilst chatting with the governor and being followed by a contingent of guards.
After the first day, Hart had insisted on having just one guard to follow him everywhere he went. Sintih was busy to-trial, and the rest of Tristan's personal guard had gone with Tristan and Ayla to Scalvoris. So the man shadowing Hart today was one of the govenor's. The guard walked in step with him, a step behind and to the right. Ever present, but unobstrusive.
"Lady Titania," Hart greeted as the lady in question came up the front stair. "Welcome. I'm Tristan Venora, of the Oakleigh Venoras." The door to the manor was open and he stood just to the side. The Lady Titania was young, younger than Hart, but no younger than Tristan. Hart bowed, though it was more an incline of the head than anything else. He didn't know if he had ever seen Tristan bow to anyone, noble or not.
"Would you like to come in, have refreshments? Cake, wine--" It's what Tristan would have offered, Hart knew that much. Tristan had never failed to offer wine every time he and Hart had met together.
"Or if you prefer, we could get some fresh air? I'm sure it's been a long journey. What is it, some eight trials from Krome to Oakleigh Town?"
Hart hoped Titania was kind, or at the very least personable. If not, he told himself he could still do well. Tristan was above her in station. Perhaps she was as nervous as he was not to let the people who depended on her down.
