Beauty is Deceiving 3 – Calling On Celiaria

Posted by Scourge on November 16, 2009

The first thing running through Harlon’s mind was pretty much the same thing that ran through his mind every morning of his life. “How on earth did he end up with a slowly-spreading woman who cared more about an obnoxious bird than him?” It wasn’t as if he didn’t love his wife in some… well, yeah… it kinda was like that, actually.

Thirty-two years ago, his parents had some rather odd ideas about ‘marrying below his station’ and ‘ensuring top-quality offspring.’ They would not be pleased to know that the only offspring who sprung from Harlon’s loins was a degenerate artist who currently lived with a rather successful theif in a cave outside town. It was a nice cave, dry and furnished with expensive (stolen) goods, but it was still a cave.

The second thing running through Harlon’s mind was what, exactly, he was going to say to Celiaria when he surprised her at the boarding house in less than ten minutes. He couldn’t accuse her of anything. It would probably have been easier if he could.

He was still mulling the problem over when he found himself standing on the stoop of the boarding house, frowning. Lady Ansul, the proprietor of the house – one of the only reputable ones in Barend – opened the door and stood there, eyebrows arched and waiting. Harlon hadn’t even realized he had knocked yet.

“Might I help you, Captain?” she asked in a bored, cultured voice.

He stood up a little straighter. “I’d like to speak with Celiaria De Prisk… immediately.” He added the last to sound official.

“The Demi-Duchess?” she said in a way that made Harlon feel a bit like something trod under a shoe. “I will see if she is available. Wait here.”

He hardly had any choice. She closed the door in his face.

Five minutes later, Lady Ansul returned. “She will see you in the back garden.” Her eyes told the rest of the message: and you are very lucky to get to see her at all, maggot. Harlon might have imagined the ‘maggot’ bit.

He thanked the Lady and took the stone walk around the back of the house. There was a small grassy yard and some flowers, and Celiaria De Prisk, looking rather stunning in a gown of white and blue.

“You wanted to see me, Captain Harlon?” she inquired.

Harlon tried to suck in his gut as he walked over to her. “Yes. I did, in fact.”

And then silence reigned for a long moment. He found himself wishing the walk over to the house had been longer.