As night fell, and the lanterns along the road were lit, Immalaine watched out the window of the main room as she thought on the failed conversation the previous evening. Everything had seemed to fall apart, and she felt as though it was all her fault. Looking down in her lap, she traced a finger over the small drawing they'd gotten from Winter-home, that someone had framed for her after their return, and let out a deep sigh of disgust.
Upon hearing the sigh, Zandrianna looked up from her reading and shook her head sadly. The girl had been non-communicative the entire evening, wandering about the house with a look of dejection. Despite having done the evening cooking, Immalaine hadn't touched a bite of food; instead she had pushed it around on her plate until it was a soggy mess, fit only to feed the dogs. Or one particularly non-picky cat, which is what Zandrianna had done with the plate.
Unable to hold her tongue any longer, Zandrianna closed the book she had been studying and set it aside. “Immalaine,” she said. “Talk to me child, what happened? Did you speak with Rastellion about the problems your having, about that man from your past?”
Blinking, Immalaine looked up from the drawing and turned her head to face her friend. “I … I tried Lady Zandrianna, really I did. But I don't know what happened. I … it was …” struggling to find the words to describe the failed conversation, and Rastellion's apparent coldness afterwards, Immalaine stuttered to a stop, a distressed look in her eyes.
“Let's start from the beginning then,” Zandrianna replied, walking over to where the girl sat, laying her hand upon Immalaine's shoulder. “Come,” she said soothingly, “Tell me.”
Though broken bits and starts, Zandrianna gently coaxed the tale from Immalaine, listening with growing distress to the events that had led up to the girl's current temperament. “Immalaine, dear ..” she said, a wearied look on her face as she took her hand, “You know that just because Rastellion said that about the girl, doesn't mean that he'd think of you the same way. For one, he loves you dearly. And what happened to you wasn't your doing – or your choice – either. Don't you think he'd know the difference? That he would understand?”
Immalaine opened her mouth to respond when a knock echoed through the house. “Who could that be at this hour?” Zandrianna muttered to herself, standing up. “I'll be right back,” she said to Immalaine, before walking across the room to answer the door. “Land sakes, child,” a strong voice could be heard on the other side, “Keep me waiting here much longer and I'll be growing yet another grey hair.”
“Widow Rossiath,” Zandrianna says with a smile, “Come in.” she motions the woman inside and turns to head back to Immalaine, Rossiath following close behind and taking in the young woman's stricken expression.
“Now, whats all this nonsense,” Rossiath says, looking between the two younger women with a shake of her head, taking in the situation. “This have to do with that young man of yours, child?” she says point blank as she sits down next to Immalaine.
Sniffling from crying, Immalaine nods. “I made a right mess o' things, I did, an' now I'm not sure Rastellion will ever forgive me!”
Turning to Zandrianna for an explanation, she listens as she's quickly filled in on the fight, though not the reason why. Shaking her head, Rossiath looks back to Immalaine. “Men, quite often, don't hear a word we say, even when we're saying it loud enough for the dead to hear. That young man loves you, and you'll work it out. Just give it a night's rest, you'll see.” She gets up, reaching into her bag to hand Zandrianna a small bundle. “This poultice is good for sleeping, though with the babe here, you'll want to be sure to take it when someone's around to keep mind of her. You still look like you've not been sleeping enough,” Rossiath adds, eyeing Zandrianna's pale skin and darkened eyes. “Child, if I have to come run your house for you and make you sleep, I will!”
Zandrianna turns, pursing her lips from a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “I'll be fine Rossiath, I promise,” she say. “I've plenty of people who seem to think that I need to be sleeping all the time as it is.” Sighing, not meaning to sound as sharp as she did, Zandrianna turns and gives her friend a hug. “I'll be sure to get some rest … I do promise,” she says.
“See that you do,” Rossiath replies, returning the hug, before turning to rub Immalaine's shoulder. “And you, get some sleep as well. Things always look better after a night's rest. Now, I best be off to find my own bed for the night. Lots to do tomorrow.” With a wave, she heads to the door, Zandrianna following behind to see her out.
Returning to Immalaine's side, Zandrianna strokes her hair. “Rossiath is right. Sleep will do us both good right now. Tomorrow you can try talking to Rastellion again, once you've both had a chance to settle down. Or, if you find speaking to him so hard, then mayhap write him a letter?”
Immalaine shake her head. “It's not a good idea,” she says sadly. In the back of her mind she thinks through the situation. They were too late getting to the town hall, the property would go up for auction and he would win. He had promised to leave her alone if she let him have his way – she had no reason to believe he wouldn't. After all, he'd gotten what he wanted right? Realizing the threat of her past being revealed was gone, she finally smiled a little. “Mebbe you've the right of things, an' I should get some sleep.” she says, evading Zandrianna's suggestion, standing and stretching. “Good night Lady Zandrianna,” she said, leaning in to hug her before heading off to bed for the night.
Baffled, Zandrianna watched her go to her room and close the door, before shaking her head. “What's changed her mind so suddenly?” she asks herself then turns as she hears the door open, Merry attempting to slip inside. “Well met, Merry,” she says, watching the young woman jump and look blankly, before grinning.
“Hello Miss Zandrianna, I ran into Mrs. Rossiath on the way home, and she told me I should come watch the baby for you? Something about a sleep drought or some such?”
“That must be the poultice that she gave me,” Zandrianna nods. “Well, I don't mind if you wish to stay the night, it'll give me a chance to take it and get some sle ...” Her sentence is broken off by the sounds of Althessia crying in the room. “After I take care of the baby then,” she says with a tired smile, heading to the room to retrieve her daughter for a late night feeding.
Merry nods, following Zandrianna to the room, greeting Immalaine who simply waved before turning over in bed. “I'll get the bedroll set up then, and get some sleep. I don't mind staying, it'll keep me out of Miss Desiare's house. She's been in a foul mood recently.”
“Really?” Zandrianna asked. “Did she mention why?” she continued, though she had her suspicions why, despite the fact that Desiare had been quiet lately. Behind her, she could hear Merry's mumbled “Not a thing,” and Zandrianna nods. Well, whatever it was, she thought, turning her thoughts to Althessia and sleep, she'd have to find out later.
