d'enanigans: is calling it "the climax" too on point?

[nothing_to_fear]

This house has a very pleasant room for receiving honored guests.

In the fashion of House Shahrizai, the walls are richly tapestried (though not in identifying colors) and the couches are soft, finely upholstered. He has ordered the servants to stand ready with wine and light refreshment, and readier still to act should negotiations sour.

Jonathan sent a man to wait for Brix; he himself went upstairs to check on Matthieu. Finding him asleep, but well enough and in no danger, he returned to this room to wait.

He is reading a book of plants and their uses as they come in to light the torches.

Comments

[gothamsheiress]

"An interest?"

[nothing_to_fear]

Jonathan considers the possible phrasings.

"Oh, anyone of a certain temperament would, I expect. A Servant of Naamah, trained in the Night Court, visited by mysterious visions."

[gothamsheiress]

"What sort of interest is this?" she asks. "The sort you have in me?"

[nothing_to_fear]

"I did say he'd be safe for life, didn't I."

He takes a delicate sip of his wine.

"Marriage, I suppose, is up to them. The official deal is to serve much as he does now, but on a more ... exclusive basis. He'll have to accede, naturally; however, without you, he has no choice at all."

[gothamsheiress]

She realizes she's stopped breathing for a moment.

"He's to be somebody's slave. That, or die."

[nothing_to_fear]

Jonathan tsks.

"You make it sound dreadful."

[gothamsheiress]

"You're despicable," she says, with dawning horror.

[nothing_to_fear]

Now Jonathan does smile.

"That's beside the point."

[gothamsheiress]

Her fingers are white on the goblet.

(She must not, must not, she reminds herself, brain him with the goblet. Not yet.)

"And you leave me very little choice as well."

[nothing_to_fear]

Jonathan makes a faint sound, a hmm or a hn, and regards her steadily.

His gaze is appraising, and very cool.

[gothamsheiress]

Brix ducks her head, staring into her untouched wine, so that he won't see the rage in her eyes.

"Why me?" softly. "Why do you wish to marry me?"

[nothing_to_fear]

He laughs softly.

"I'm told we'll make a very smart match."

[gothamsheiress]

His laugh makes her stomach clench.

"By whom?"

[nothing_to_fear]

"Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to say."

[gothamsheiress]

"Really."

Interesting. Unsettling.

"I think you may find we are not so well-matched as you've been led to believe."

[nothing_to_fear]

"In some respects, perhaps," he admits with another faint smile.

"But in others, I suspect we shall be able to discover common ground. Or create it."

[gothamsheiress]

How much time does Havelock need? How much is she going to need to promise to keep Grue de Agen focused here, on her, rather than on his prisoner upstairs?

"I--"

She swallows the aggressive response -- I am Kusheline, not heretical and mad -- and follows it with the barest sip of wine.

"I still don't understand."

[nothing_to_fear]

"You understand well enough, I expect."

Jonathan really hates dealing with people.

"Of course, if you have a question I may answer, I'd hardly begrudge you."

[gothamsheiress]

"What can you hope to gain from a marriage to me?"

A forced marriage in particular.

[nothing_to_fear]

He lifts his goblet and considers it without drinking.

"Is that what you fail to understand, my lady? Surely you can see some advantage in it."

[gothamsheiress]

"My father's estate, I suppose -- is that what you want? If it's only the money, then we can come to an arrangement, I assure you."

[nothing_to_fear]

"Yes," he agrees absently, "and it's this one."

This time his smile is a bit thin.

"I wouldn't worry, my lady. As you find me despicable, I expect it to be a marriage in name only."

[gothamsheiress]

"Oh," acidly, "I am relieved."

[nothing_to_fear]

"In which case, I wonder what your decision will be."

[gothamsheiress]

She shakes her head.

"I will not let you send Matthieu into slavery. I cannot."