Tale of Four

"That was fun," Edmund said, walking off with Tristan back to the fort where the family was staying. Sighing, he looked at Tristan, who stared at him strangely, "What?"

"I just never thought you would be so open." Tristan playfully smirked, "Even flirting with those ladies on the dance floor. And here you told me you had someone you liked." Edmund flared up, his red cheeks burning. Punching Tristan’s arm, he shook his head.

"This and that are different. In comparison to what I have seen in the Flower Palace, this is particularly tame for Lord Clover’s standards. As for what I did, that comes hand in hand with his parties; you just get swept into the moment." Edmund glared at Tristan with a frown, "Soemthing you would have known if you joined in."

"I wonder if Hampton will lose its place as the entertainment capital of the realm with lord Clover like this." Tristan mulled, not expecting an answer.

"No, Lord Clover’s taste is a bit too exotic for the realm." Edmund answered instantly, "Only the flatlands Lord are agreeable to it wholeheartedly, and that is the younger generation. My father hates Lord Clover’s parties, finding them overwhelming. He much preferred the previous Lords’ more reserved way of doing things." Edmund laughed, "Although he does love Lord Clover’s generosity, it is still like his late father’s." Tristan nodded, feeling the weight of the gold coin in his pocket. Lord Clover had handed out to random guests as a gift for coming.

"What did he say? A host must accommodate his guests. He’s a bit too accommodating if you ask me." Edmund scoffed and shook his head.

"He has so much gold he doesn’t know what to do with it. There are only so many projects he can carry out in his lands before he needs to find another reason for his money. Whilst it is obviously a way to make himself look better, he mainly does it because he has too much money to know what to do with it." Tristan laughed, unable to believe such a person existed. Even he could tell that Lord Clover simply did it because he could. The political benefits that came were just an added bonus.

With a smile, Tristan carried on, "Anyway, I had fun, although you seemed to enjoy dancing with our cousin."

"She did a terrible job of hiding who she was. If she’s going to cover her face, at least take off the family sigil attached to her chest." The two shared a laugh but said nothing, knowing that Elsa was fine. "I saw you talking to Cillian. When did you get close?"

"We shared dinner once," Tristan thought for a moment, "I wouldn’t exactly say we are friends, more people who can engage in discussion and help one another."

"Your friends, Tristan. The way you talk and act shows you’re comfortable with one another, although cousin Cillian is like that with everyone but Elias." Tristan stayed silent and wanted to slap himself.

’Of course, we’re friends. Why am I scared to say so? Is it becuase of Elias and Mabel? Shaking his head, he smiled, "Even still, it’s not a real friendship like what I have with you, more like what I have with Mabel. Mabel and I can talk and bounce ideas, but we both know that there is a certain arm’s length we keep. Cillian is kinda the same, but I guess he is just a more open person."

Looking back at Lord Clover’s tent, he shrugged, "Did he stay behind with Lord Clover for a reason?"

"Don’t you know?" Edmund chuckled and leaned closer so no one could hear, "He slept with Sandra Clover. Well, we’re not meant to say that, and we’re also not meant to say how it’s ongoing." Tristan’s eyes widened in shock as Edmund burst into laughter, "The first time it happened was during a feast shortly after he turned nineteen. I only know because I overheard my father venting to my mother about how the twins were even treating themselves to royalty now."

Tristan chuckled and shook his head, "She is in her thirties, isn’t she?" Edmund shrugged.

"Sandra is the most desired woman in the realm, bar Silvia, Tristan. You wouldn’t know because you have only lived in the Palace, but in the Flatlands, it’s widely known she has never married because most men would try and force her to stop how she lived or at least hone it in." Edmund smiled, "And Lord Clover has made it quite clear that anyone who tries to police his sister will be ruined."

Tristan nodded in acknowledgement, "Then Lord Clover? I know he is married to Lady Seaworth, but I mean, look at how he lives."

"You would be surprised." Edmund seriously said, "They are happily married, in fact, he made an entire manor for her on the coast as a wedding gift and goes out of his way to raise her on a pedestal every chance he gets. Rumours say his wife happily takes part in his activities, but no one would dare say it is certain. Lord Clover may not care how the realm sees him, but he is quick to shut down anything said about his wife in bad taste. So no one dares to, yet everyone quietly understands it is."

Edmund sighed and shook his head, "It’s a shame Lady Seaworth couldn’t come, she is quite a lovely lady." Looking straight ahead, he paused and slowly came to a stop. Following his gaze, Tristan saw why and frowned. Ahead, Issac Sunflare stood staring ahead with a blank look, watching the Makepiece tent.

"Lord Sunflare." Edmund was the first to step forward and show respect, followed by Tristan, who made sure to bow a little deeper. Lord Sunflare passed a glance at them and quickly nodded, ordering them to rise. Close to the man, he saw the competing natures within him. The fiery blaze in his gaze, mixed with a cold aloofness, he presented.

"Young Wells. How is your mother?" Issac asked with a thin smile.

"She is fine, Lord Sunfalre. I saw your joust earlier, and must say you rode well." Issac waved his hand, not wishing for pleasantries.

"You are fighting tomorrow, no." Edmund nodded. "I will see you on the field. Please do not embarrass your family." Isaac glanced at Tristan before focusing on the bird on his shoulder, his eyes widening. Holding out his hand, a genuine smile formed as he beckoned for it to come over. Annabell tilted her head at Lord Sunfalre for a moment before jumping off Tristan’s head and landing on his hand.

"Too warm," Annabell said with an annoyed voice before jumping off and going back to Tristan. Issac chuckled and shook his head.

"Who are you?" The aloof coldness returned as he looked at Tristan.

"Tristan Cosmaton, my Lord."

"Your bird. Is it your summon?" Issac asked, taking a step closer to examine Annabell, his guards shuffling to prepare for any surprise attack the two princes may throw towards him.

"Yes, my Lord."

"She is beautiful. Calm like the moonlight, lacking the harshness of the sun." With a smile, he looked down at his hand, "Very calming." Tristan raised an eyebrow in confusion but lowered his head to hide it.

"Thank you, my Lord. I’m sorry for the rudeness she showed."

"Don’t be. Birds aren’t meant to fly towards the sun, or they burn." With a smile, he walked ahead, his eyes never leaving the Makepiece tent in the distance. Once he was gone, Tristan grabbed Annabell and looked at her.

"What was that?" Annabell stared at Issac and huffed.

"He is welcoming. A very kind person." Annabell said with a soft voice, "A shame he is too warm."

"Kind?"

"As kind as someone like him can be." Annabell looked deep into Tristan’s eyes, "You should become his friend, he’s like Edmund, only a little worse."