Something Stupid

Rosamund rubbed his beard, deeply pondering the contents of a finely crafted wooden box. A pair of white rose collar pins, crafted carefully from nacre and connected together with several thin gold chains, rested on the silk cushion within. He couldn't decipher the meaning of this. The present was clearly expensive, addressed to him, and accompanied with a simple letter saying only: 𝓖𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓴!

What in the world was Baroness Mayberry thinking?

There were certain implications accompanying every present nobles could ever think of gifting each other. Jewellery was almost always a sign of affection, and sending someone a ring would almost equate to a marriage proposal. Sending someone something as intimate and as visible as a collar pin or a cravat pin was... close. Now, she was a happily married woman, older than him at least considering the years spent on this world, and she never expressed any sort of interest in him. Was this somehow sent to the wrong man...? Perhaps it was meant for her children. However, roses were, hm, fitting when his name was taken into account. And considering the symbolism of roses was even more romantic... but then again, she was a commoner by birth. Was he reading too much into it? No, no, certainly not. She has been a part of the noble class for two decades now. She wouldn't make a mistake like this. So, what did it mean? Should he ask her? Pretend he never got it? Send it back? What? What did she want?!

Honestly. He really didn't need this additional stress right now. It was troublesome enough working on the preparations for his inauguration. The difficult balance between gaudy and shabby was almost impossible to follow when the tastes and fashion of the nobility constantly changed. Coming off as tacky was the last thing he wanted to do in his first proper public appearance. He planned some smaller events before, of course, but overall he flew under the radar quite beautifully so far.

And Alberic wanted him in the spotlight.

Mood thoroughly soured, he decided to just lock the box away in a drawer for now. He'll figure it out later. Sending a single servant to Baroness Mayberry's home to deliver a box will surely be a cause for rumors again. He couldn't spend too much time on this, he had work to do. The box was either sent to the wrong person, or was never meant to be delivered at all. He will return it the next time he meets her, or something. Talk to her in private, perhaps. In either case, he had work to focus on.

Several quiet and extremely busy days had passed. Adanita was going to Baroness Mayberry every other day to learn etiquette and other knowledge necessary for a proper noble lady. Occasionally Teodolit and Ekliptik would come along, although their lessons weren't nearly as common. Whenever they were at the manor, the trio could be found studying. Rosamund started sending servants their way to make sure everyone was taking breaks, too. Especially Ekliptik. Somewhere around this time, Nivelir started working again, too. Rosamund was overjoyed with his return, and also glad that the mandatory break he gave him left him refreshed and feeling well. Now they were both suffering under the weight of the work that needed to be done. Lilac also started to make himself more busy again, finally bringing in two of his apprentices to manage less urgent projects. He promised Rosamund some protective gear soon, for a little experiment of his own. Considering everything, he could hardly wait.

Dorja wasn't trying to get in touch with him. Or Lilac. Considering Adanita's testimony and Lilac's primordial terror, he almost expected more of her by now. There was also a strange absence of the devil. He popped in once, gave him the worst scare of his life, and has not been heard of since. His father wasn't getting closer to any answers. Rosamund was feeling as if they were wasting time in a dark tunnel, not noticing an oncoming train. The wait was putting him on edge. The priests his mother recommended were casual drinkers and gamblers, but they certainly put real blessings on the manor. He was safe, right? He won't need to live through something like that again, right?

His hands were shaking.

Rosamund took a deep breath and carefully let go. He was stressing over his mountain of work bad enough already, he didn't need to run in circles in his mind. Feeling strangely drained, he went back to his documents. He was a busy man. He had better things to do instead of a mental breakdown. Running his fingers through his hair for the nth time, Rosamund went back to work.


Adanita walked in after politely knocking, but not bothering to be polite enough to wait for his invitation. He didn't mind it, she was always welcome. "Good afternoon, Lord Governor," she wished him. "How do you do?"
"Good afternoon, Captain. You know you don't need to be so formal with me, I hope?" he asked.
"Hah. It was just a bit of practice. I need a book, Bluebell said I can find it here," she said. "May I?"
"Of course, go ahead."
"Honestly, though. Are you feeling alright? You seem stressed," she said as she approached the bookshelves.
"I just have quite a lot of work to do," he said, running his fingers through his hair again. "Nothing I couldn't manage, don't worry. But there is quite a lot to prepare for the ball, and I am trying to not come off as tasteless... There is so much to keep in mind. It is needless stress, this whole charade. And I am still worried about the devil..." Ah, he didn't mean to dump it all on her in this manner. She didn't seem to mind, though, she just let him ramble as usual. She found her book and came over to him.

"Your hair is undone."
"Ah- where did the ribbon go?" He started looking around him. Perhaps it fell on the floor- ah, Adanita found it on the back of his chair. "Thank-"
"I could fix it for you, if you'd like."
"Oh. Hm." He didn't want to inconvenience her, but since she offered... it would probably look better than him trying to do it himself without a mirror, too. He could go to his room and do it there, but... ah, she offered. She braided beads in her hair, perhaps she liked to play with styles. "Yes, you may," he said.
"I don't have a comb with me, let me know if I pull on your hair," she said.
"Very well."

She carefully collected his hair and started running her fingers through, carefully combing it. Her fingers brushed against the back of his neck. He felt a shiver run down his spine and straightened out to make it easier for her. Her touch was gentle and calming, he could feel stress dissipate as he closed his eyes. He felt good. He liked it. It was hard to believe how much he enjoyed her doing such a little thing for him, especially with how deeply he disliked other people touching him. But if it was her, it was fine. He felt safe and well in her presence, and she was so tender and careful with him. How tired he had to be to act this way. He rarely felt a want for someone's touch, but somehow, if it was her, he didn't really mind at all. She didn't need to let go at all...
"You have beautiful hair," she said. "It's so soft~"
"Thank you. I like taking care of it. I comb it every night and every morning."
"It shows. Mine is somewhat curly and unruly, so I could never have it long. I don't have time for it, but I love braiding. I could braid yours. Oh- I should braid beads, like I do for myself."
"Giving me a pirate hairstyle?" he joked. Surely she didn't need so long to tie a ponytail. He allowed it nonetheless. They were both enjoying themselves a little bit. Just a little.

"I think it would suit you rather well," she whispered by his ear. He could feel his face turning a bright red color and tried to hide it with his hands. She let out a little snicker before moving away. "All done, Lord Governor. Try to not pull your hair out while working, it would leave me rather despondent."
"I am unsure that is the correct use of that word," he replied. His heart was beating in his ears. How did she keep catching him off-guard? It wasn't fair.
"And yet, I used it. Ah, right- some of my dresses arrived."
"Oh?" he asked. He managed to get himself under control again, so he turned to face her again. "Would you also fancy a bit of a fashion show, like how Ekliptik had?"
"No, most certainly not. I wouldn't feel comfortable in front of people at all, but I would like your opinion nonetheless. You have good taste. And, well, it seems to me like you need a break. Considering you keep sending people to check on us, I'd say it would be appropriate if I did the same for you."
"Is that so?" Not comfortable in front of others...? "Do you dislike the dresses?"
"Not particularly, no. I'd say Lady Ansatz helped me find some outfits that would suit me well, however... I am not sure how to say it."
"Suits and pants, or even skirts, aren't unheard of among noble ladies," he said.
"Oh, I will get some suits, too. It's not that, really. Well, pants are more comfortable to move around in in a fight, but I don't dislike skirts and dresses. It's more of a matter of... ah, I really don't know how to say it. I'm sorry. Listen, I will simply go and try out my clothes. You should visit and tell me what do you think. Does that sound alright with you?"
"Of course. Give me a few more minutes to finish up this document, and I will come over."
"Perfect. I should be ready by then."


Rosamund finished up for the time being and stretched his arms and shoulders. He really needed to take more time for exercise. A second chance in life should not be wasted on back pain. He left his office to find Adanita. There was a commotion, so he rushed over to her room. Two frightened and at a glance uninjured maids passed him by in a hurry to get away, before realizing it was him.

A loud stream of frightened and sobbing explanations from the two women had his mood take a turn for the worse once again. He dismissed them and went to Adanita instead.

The dress she was wearing was a beautiful dark blue evening dress. It had left her shoulders bare, and the short sleeves exposed her strong, muscular arms in their full glory. It was decorated with little sea shells and pearls, and left a place for her belt and cutlasses while still keeping a fashionable wide skirt. Her outfit was lovely.

And she was on the verge of tears.

He reached out for her, but decided against it. He didn't want to be rude. Instead, he pulled up a chair and sat down by her side. "Good afternoon, Captain Vervain," he quietly said. "How do you do?"
She sniffled in response.
"Would you mind telling me what made you so sad?"
"It's stupid."
"I don't mind. Things some people find inconsequential can cause great distress to others."
"It's stupid," she repeated. "I- they tried to cut my hair. I- I don't want people waving sharp things around my head."
"Did they ask for permission first, at least?" Did he need to fire them?
"N-not really. Maybe. She said my hair is off and that she'll fix it for me. I think I overreacted. I- I'm sorry."
Was that all? It didn't sound like it was. Rosamund patiently waited for her to continue. He had all the time in the world.

She sniffled again. "What's so wrong with my hair, anyway?" she said. "It's just hair. It's- it's clean and well kept. I do my best. I like it the way it is. Why would they- what's wrong with it?"
Aha. He was getting a better picture now. "Do you cut it yourself?" he asked. He remembered her mentioning something along those lines.
"Aye."
"It's a bit uneven. May I show you?" he asked. She nodded, so he got up and stood behind her. "May I?" he checked again, and then carefully took two strands of hair from the sides of her head. "See? They are somewhat different lengths," he said. Fluffy...
"So I should cut it, then? Or let them do it?"
"Hardly. You could've asked another person to cut your hair for you already. You could've asked Officer Teodolit. If there's anything I can tell about you, it's that you do things your way. Am I mistaken?" he asked, offering her a smile in the mirror. "If you wanted your hair like this, you shouldn't let others tell you what to do."
"Hah."

She wasn't crying. She was only distressed, not completely broken down. Her hands were shivering slightly, and he could see some strange sadness in her mirrored eyes. He let her go and sat down next to her again. What could've brought her to this state?

"And what do you think?" she asked.

The realization hit him like a freight train.

This woman spent three years in the company of nobility that absolutely despised her. He saw how they reacted to Ekliptik, he knew how they behaved in general. She had to endure it for years, alone. Even someone as confident and strong as her wasn't immune to relentless fire of psychological abuse that the upper class perfected.

Goodness, how should he answer? He needed her to love herself, not to base her appearance on his preference. But how do you fix such a thorough break? He didn't know. But he needed to try, at least.

"I admire you," he said. "I admire the way you choose to present yourself. It is completely, thoroughly, absolutely you. No one else's choices, only yours, down to every last lock of hair. That is what I like the best. Your self-confidence and style are one of a kind. I love to see it on display in every little way you do it."

She looked at him, resting her chin on her hand. "Is that so?" she asked.

And that was when he realized what an idiot he was. This woman complimented his appearance so often, showed in little ways how she found him handsome. He never returned the favour, not even once. It was time to remedy that. He solemnly nodded. "I am afraid it is. However my answer, while being honest, may have been entirely too unspecific. May I clarify?"
"Please."
"I like the way you dress," he started. "It is practical and comfortable, and it shows that you are a competent woman, always ready for every situation you are in. I like the feather in your hat, and I like your coat. When we were in the storm, its color shone like a beacon against the blackened skies. I like the way you cut your hair, it is soft, fluffy, and charming. I like the way you braid beads into it, and the way they shine in the candlelight. I like how the sun shining into your eyes makes them look as if they are made of gold, and when you are next to a fire, they are almost red. I like how strong you are, and I like how your muscles display that. I like your freckles, too," I'd like to count how many there are, "as I find them rather cute. Your smile is charming and I am happy whenever I manage to make you laugh. I like the color of your hair, as it reminds me of the setting sun and this bixbite jewel you gave me. I like how imposing your height and strength are. When I saw you on that beach for the first time, you, my savior, were the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
By this point, her face was entirely red. He continued nonetheless.
"I enjoy the way you speak, your humor and your confidence. You are a wonderful woman, and I hate to even think for a moment that it came to a point where you need me to say it. You are intelligent, confident, good, gentle, and kind. I enjoy your company, your wit, and our conversations. I- I would hate it if you based all your self-worth on my approval, but I can see you are feeling unwell right now. Please, if you ever need a reminder, let me know. I will gladly list all of this to you again and again, until you are so self-assured no noble could ever dream of getting to you. Whatever they say... you are beautiful."

He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his beard, allowing this to settle in. He left her speechless, it seemed. Well, that was simply unacceptable.

"The dress is nice, too," he added with a small smile. "Who's your tailor?"
She let out a laugh. "You are impossible..."
"Ah, music to my ears. Should I let you know I enjoy the way you laugh, too?"
"I think you mentioned it somewhere between my freckles and my hair. Do you perhaps dabble in poetry in your spare time? I've never heard something so- so-"
"Cheesy? I meant it, you know."
"Hah!"
"Well, I do suppose I should apologize," he said. "I believe I mentioned before it isn't in my nature to throw around words as if they are nothing. The compliments a better man would've given you whenever you deserved them all came out at once instead of in a more... regular manner. I do mean what I say, though. The maids here are used to serving nobility, and they have a certain way of doing things. You shouldn't let their tastes dictate the way you choose to present yourself. The only way to truly be happy... is to be happy with yourself, I suppose. That is why I have a beard, you know? I like it."
"It suits you," she said. "...thank you. As ridiculous as it was to hear all of this at once, I appreciate it."
"I am glad. Please keep this little outburst to yourself, though. If it became public knowledge, it would severely impact my cold and emotionless image."
"Really? I thought you said it wasn't just an act."
"Oh, it is not. I merely enjoy your company too much to behave in that manner towards you. Could you imagine me smiling at Hexkey?"
"No, not at all."
"Well, there you have it. Different people have a different amount of my trust, and it influences the way I show my affection."

She gave him a warm smile, which he mirrored. She deserved this much.

She got up and attempted to walk in the dress. It suited her body well, showing off the lines of her waist and hips as she walked away from him. She tried to do a curtsy, and then a little twirl. The fabric fluttered around her ankles. After a moment of consideration, she raised her arms to flex her biceps.

There was a very distinct sound of fabric tearing by its seams.

Rosamund put a hand over his mouth, trying to cover up his idiotic grin. Gods damn it, she was strong. And thoroughly embarrassed, to boot. He looked away as she went to grab a shawl to cover herself up a little.

"I think it's time I get back to work," he announced.
"Ah, right. And I must change and go back to reading... you know," she said, "you don't need to send people to check on me. Ekliptik and Teo, maybe, but I am fine. My eyes get tired after reading for a while, so I take frequent breaks all on my own."
"Really? You get tired from- do letters dance on the paper for you?"
"No."
"Oh, good, if it was dyslexia I couldn't help you. I think you might want to try out reading glasses."
"Glasses? On the Pirate Queen?" she asked with a smirk.
"And pirate braids on the Governor. Quite a day for the two of us, right? Don't worry, you won't need to wear them always. They just help you read. I could place an order, if you don't want to."
"Hah. Fine, you may. I'll try them out, if you think they'd help."
"Then it's settled. I am sorry about the dress."
"It's alright. I don't think it was much of my style, as you say. Perhaps it can be fixed and given to Ekliptik... I think they'd like an evening dress, too."
"Oh, that is a wonderful idea," he said as he was getting up. "Ask Bluebell to arrange it. I will be off now, I must continue with my work."
"Of course. Thank you for entertaining this, Lord Governor. I feel better now." A strange smile hovered on her lips for a few moments as she glanced at him from the side of her eye. "Did you really think I was beautiful at the beach?" she asked.
"Oh yes," he said shamelessly. "Well, I was terrified for my life at the time, so I didn't exactly enjoy it in full, but gods, you were marvelous. I particularly enjoyed the way you tripped me up and pinned me down- I believe it was the fourth time you dropped me? Quite a marvelous display of strength. And your somersaults, too - amazing acrobatic skill. I really must get out of my office more, I'd like to request you again to occasionally train swordplay with me."
"Hah. If you enjoy losing so much, I find it difficult to reject you twice." She gave him a very formal nod. "It would be my pleasure to spar with you. I will do my best not to break anything."

With how careful and gentle she was? He had nothing to fear. He offered her one last smile before going back to his office. Somehow, the list of things he needed to do seemed smaller and easier than before. Somehow, he thought he could be done well before dinnertime. Somehow...

...♥