Sophia considered Paul's question, trying to decide whether to play coy or a little bit more aggressive. She thought back to the deal she had made with the Count and the threat Crone made to her. If she dallied, she might get into trouble and Paul might eventually lose interest. Better to agree now than to miss the chance. She'd really like to be paid as soon as possible so that her sisters won't end up hungry or needing to enter into the kind of job she has. She nodded. "If you wish to return to your room, I shall be glad to accompany you, my Lord."

---

Olivia looked at Crone. She wanted to say no, that she wanted to stay, that she felt more uneasy and less safe when she was with him than with the towering knight standing only a few feet away from them, that she wanted to stay and chat a bit more with the long lost Duke-to-be. But of course, she knew that she can't say any of those. She wanted to know what's going on. She needed to know if her father was really as corrupted as Winston said he was. And if she wanted to do those things, she needed to go back to the castle.

She could see Winston readying himself to fight from the corner of her eye. She had no doubt that the man can handle himself and do a good job at disposing off the Count's men, probably Crone too. But she didn't really want him to be hurt. She actually liked the man even though most probably feared his huge stature and scarred face. And of course, she didn't want anyone else hurt.

She had no choice. She looked towards Winston. "This man is my father's most trusted man, I shall be safe returning to the castle with him at my side. Thank you for looking out for my well being, Sir Knight," she gave him a smile and nothing more, hoping that he'd understand what she planned to do. She could have gave him a look but she needed to be careful and didn't want Crone to be suspicious. She turned her attention back to Crone, nodded and gave him a polite smile. "Thank you, Sir Crone," she said and walked on ahead. "Come, Darma. It is time to return to the castle. Father is most probably worried sick that we have left without telling him," she said, the closeness to her handmaiden she had exhibited the night before gone.

"Yes, milady," Darma nodded and followed after her mistress obediently.

Paul had stood and offered Sophia a hand, then an elbow. A short walk back to the Black Raven and a minute or so of stripping away layers of clothing, and the nobleman would be deep inside the warmth and wetness of the thankfully willing young peasant. But ... that wasn't to be such an easy thing apparently. Arriving within sight of the Inn, Paul saw the ruckus outside and -- slowing their pace -- moved Sophia gently over into the shadows of a smithy.

A dozen men were spread out across the cobblestone streets, their uniforms telling Paul that they were far more than just the standard Castle Guard; and those men -- with their weapons drawn -- were on guard because in close proximity were Paul's own men and, standing obvious amongst them, his right hand man, Winston. He couldn't know precisely what had transpired inside the inn or was just now happening outside of it. But as he watched, Paul saw an obvious officer-type lead out two women -- Lady Olivia and her hand maiden -- and help them up into a horse cart that quickly arrived with another Guardsmen at the reins.

Paul watched as the cart started away and the Guardsmen fell in behind it. The more professional soldiers were slower to withdraw, though, as the officer and Winston had some words. Ultimately, though, the only men left standing in the street worked for Paul, who reached over to take Sophia's elbow and -- as if nothing had happened -- asked the girl, "Shall we?"

Sophia watched with feigned wide eyed wonder the happening outside the Inn. She spotted Crone in the midst of the castle guards, escorting Olivia and her handmaiden to a horse drawn carriage. She carefully kept the wondering look on her face despite the satisfaction she felt. Olivia was being taken back towards the castle. One less person to worry about taking the Duke-to-be's attention. And more importantly, she wouldn't need to be envious about how silky her hair was and how fine her clothes were. As she watched the Lady step into the carriage, she hoped that her father would keep her in the castle where she belonged. She turned her eyes towards the dark haired handmaiden that was climbing the carriage after her mistress next and almost laughed at how meek and obedient she looked. She wasn't that way the night before. She had been bold and acted as though she was superior than Sophia. Just because she served Olivia didn't mean that she had become a noble herself. She vowed to put her in place the next time she encountered her -- not that she wanted to. She hoped that Darma would be locked up in the castle the way she hoped Olivia would be.

The peasant was still thinking unpleasant thoughts about Darma when she felt someone take her elbow. She blinked and looked at the man. There was really no need resisting. She would either be sent away or escorted back to the inn. She nodded and let the man lead her. She was glad when they headed towards the inn, up the stairs and into the same room where she had been the night before. When she was instructed to wait for Paul, she simply nodded.

---

Olivia remained silent as she sat in the carriage, thoughts about what she had been told the night before running through her mind. Now that she was being brought back to the castle, she would have no chance to hear what Paul really thought of her father. All she could really do now was do a bit of snooping on her own, maybe demand why she needed to be locked up in the castle and perhaps try to sneak out again later in the hopes of making it to the agreed meeting place for that meal with Paul. She looked towards Darma, who was sitting across her, and gave her a meaningful look, one that the handmaiden immediately understood.

The handmaiden, just as silent as Olivia, shook her head. She knew what was going on in her mistress' head and she didn't think it was possible for them to be able to sneak out again. The Count would probably have guards watching their moves now that he had discovered that they snuck out of the castle. She wondered briefly if one of the servants had ratted them out.

Olivia gave Darma a pointed look.

Darma shook her head again at the insistent look on her lady's face. If she didn't think that they were in trouble, she would have laughed at how Olivia seemed to be deadset on meeting again with the man she had been infatuated with for years.

Olivia shook her head.

Darma rolled her eyes, knowing that there would be a huge argument between the Count and his youngest daughter when they arrive at the Castle.

---

"Did you really have to send all those guards to come and get me, Father?" Olivia demanded as she stepped into the room where her father was waiting for her, forgetting for a moment that she had been caught outside without permission. "Do you not think I am old enough to get to know that people in town?" She sighed in exasperation. "You have kept me locked up in this castle every time I come to visit and that is why I left without permission." She took a deep breath. "Of course, I apologize for worrying you, Father. But still!"

Darma stayed a few steps behind Olivia, keeping her head bowed to hide the smile that was on her lips. Olivia had always been the Count's favorite child even though she can be stubborn and headstrong when she wanted to be.

Black Raven Inn:

Paul had escorted Sophia to the back entrance of the Black Raven, not interested in having any of the Count's lagging men seeing him enter. Once inside, he'd had one of his men take charge of Sophia -- escorting her up to his room -- while he sent a second out the front entrance to retrieve Winston.

"I see no blood," he quipped when his Lieutenant entered and joined him at their corner table. Winston caught Paul up on the morning's activities, admitting that blood or no blood, he had in fact killed one of the Count's men. He reassured Winston, "There'll be hell to pay for that."

"No more than there will be when Lady Olivia reaches the Castle," Winston said. He explained what Lars's daughter had told him about Lady Eddithia's current residence, offering without being prodded by his Lord, "Give me five men, and we can have your mother back here by sundown tomorrow."

"No," Paul said softly. He shook his head softly, waiting for the barmaid to depart after having brought two flagons of ale, "Not yet. We still don't have the lay of the land yet."

They talked for several minutes about avenues of surveillance and questioning to get that lay of the land. Then, glancing up at the second floor of the Inn, Winston smirked a bit. "Speaking of getting laid on the land ... how was your picnic?"

Paul laughed aloud, chastising his man for his crudeness. "She's a nice girl. We had a wonderful talk."

"Nice girl...? Wonderful talk?" Winston grimaced. "So ... she's not upstairs now picking leaves out of her ass crevice from a roll under an elm?"

"No, she's not," Paul laughed again as he stood and slapped his Lieutenant on the shoulder. He began to depart, then leaned in closer to the big knight and said, "But ... perhaps if you can keep things down here quiet and calm for a bit..."

He headed for the stairs, snapping his fingers and -- when the Innkeeper looked his way -- pointed to a bottle of wine. With a bit more of inhibition-loosening liquid in his hand, Paul ascended to and through his door, shutting and locking it behind him. He gave Sophia a long, hungry stare, set the bottle aside, and crossed to her. Without hesitation, he took her into his arms and pressed his mouth to hers in a wet, passionate kiss ... one hand pulling at her upper back to smash her bosom tight to his chest ... the other hand dropping to begin gathering and lifting her dress up toward her waist.

......................

The Castle Westrock:

"Did you really have to send all those guards to come and get me, Father?"

Lars had been scribbling his signature upon a variety of documents -- including several orders of execution -- when his daughter surged into the anteroom of his personal quarters. He set the quill aside and waved away his Chief Scribe.

"Do you not think I am old enough to get to know that people in town?"

"I think you are--"

"You have kept me locked up in this castle every time I come to visit and that is why I left without permission."

"I think...!" he began again, this time with a tone she recognized. She went silent, and after a calming breath -- rather than continue to chastise her for her rebellious and youthful nature -- he instead said with a caring voice, "I think you put me to worry, my daughter."

Olivia drew a deep breath of her own, telling him, "Of course, I apologize for worrying you, Father. But still!"

"Still nothing!" Lars snapped, reverting to his disciplining tone again. He glanced beyond his daughter to see the handmaiden trying to look inconspicuous. Lars drew in a deep breath and demanded, "Be gone! Less I turn you over to the Castle Guard brothel!"

Lars ignored Olivia's response to his rude and crude interaction with the quickly departing servant, instead diverting his gaze from her a moment, then standing to come around to step up close to her. He took her shoulders into his hands and -- again calm and fatherly -- said, "My daughter ... there are so many dangers beyond the castle walls ... even more so now with the return of Lord Paul and his band of outlaws."

He watched Olivia's reaction to the last, then quickly clarified, "Olivia, you don't know these men. But I do. They are thieves ... raiders ... murderers and rapists. Paul Cranston may have left Westrock the son of a Nobleman ... the Lord of a Duchy Guard Force ... but he returns little more than a Warlord ... the leader of Highwaymen who have, for nearly a decade, survived by raiding villages ... by killing hard working citizens of Counties and Duchies across the east to line their pockets with coin to be spent on loose women and mind-poisoning brew."

He squeezed her shoulders and pulled her tight to him, begging, "Please, my daughter ... you must not fraternize with these ... these black hearts ... for they will be the end of you."

Black Raven Inn:

Sophia was contemplating if she should poke around in Paul's room when the Duke-to-be walked through the door. She saw the hungry look in his eyes, her lips almost curving up into a pleased grin. If it was because he thought her attractive or if it was because he had gone far too long without female company, she didn't really care. She would be able to fulfill part of the deal she had made with the Count. The only thing she had to worry about now was pleasing him enough to make him want to keep her around. She wasn't particularly worried about it. But she had to make sure that she keeps his attention and earn his trust.

She felt his strong arms pulling her towards him and crushing her to him, his mouth quickly descending on hers and claiming it. There was no sense trying to pretend she was some sort of innocent virgin now. She let a soft moan escape her lips as her tongue moved against hers. As he gathered her skirt up, her hands found themselves moving downwards to his crotch, her fingers making quick work to undo his belt.

---

The Castle Westrock:

Olivia was just about to say something about her father being too harsh on Darma when he stood up and came towards her.

"My daughter ... there are so many dangers beyond the castle walls ... even more so now with the return of Lord Paul and his band of outlaws."

Band of outlaws? Sir Winston certainly looked a lot more noble than most of the castle guards. The young teenager sighed, choosing not to share these thoughts with her father. Instead, she said something completely different. "Father, if danger is meant to find me, it will find me even within the castle walls. Rather than being cooped up in here, doing nothing but sewing and reading books I have read a million times, I would like to get to know the people in town, learn about their lives, their way of living... if I earn their trust and they mine, no one will wish me ill. And I may be able to assist you in making sure that the people are well provided and taken care of," she said. She had always thought that a good leader listens to the people's concerns and grievances. Lord Richard had taught her that when she was younger.

She would have added more but she stopped when he began speaking again.

"Olivia, you don't know these men. But I do. They are thieves ... raiders ... murderers and rapists. Paul Cranston may have left Westrock the son of a Nobleman ... the Lord of a Duchy Guard Force ... but he returns little more than a Warlord ... the leader of Highwaymen who have, for nearly a decade, survived by raiding villages ... by killing hard working citizens of Counties and Duchies across the east to line their pockets with coin to be spent on loose women and mind-poisoning brew. Please, my daughter ... you must not fraternize with these ... these black hearts ... for they will be the end of you."

It was strange for her father to say these things when the man she met showed nothing but graciousness fit for a nobleman. If he was what the Count said he was, then she should have met a drunken man with women draped all over him. Of course, she couldn't discount the fact that Paul might have known that she was coming to see him and made an effort to put his best foot forward as to fool her into believing that he was something he was not. Was he trying to fool me? Now that I am back in the castle, is he acting the way Father said he does?

But despite that thought and despite her father's words of caution, she still believed that he was a good man. "I...will do as you say, Father. I do wonder why he would turn into such a monster. Grandfather was a noble and kind man. So was Lord Richard. I always thought Lord Paul would be the same..." her words trailed off. But her face lit up when an idea occurred to her. "Perhaps we should fetch grandmother from the monastery? She would have a lot to say that would put him in place," she frowned. "Is she still unwell? I worry about her. She used to love writing to me but it has been a while since she last responded to any of my letters."

Paul's excitement increased at the feel of Sophia's hands working at his belt.  But she was having a difficult time with it -- there were three, after all, holding up his sword scabbard, daggers scabbard, and finally his pants themselves -- and he was getting increasingly anxious to be deep inside her.  He swept her up in his arms, carried her to the bed, and playfully tossed her into the middle of it before rapidly finishing what she'd begun. 

A moment later -- after using his toes to push his boots off -- he stepped out of his pants and undergarments and pulled three layers of clothing from his upper body in one movement.  Suddenly, he was standing before Sophia stark ass naked, his manhood pointing anxiously her way.

(OOC: I am unsure of how much more can be in an open thread.  I will send you a PM to take about this further.)

.............

Olivia's inquiry about Lady Eddithia caught Lars entirely off guard.  He wasn't a man who was easily left stunned or speechless, but in this case he was both.  He looked to Olivia with wide eyes, then after a moment turned his back to her and strode casually toward the window that looked down upon Portston. 

He should have expected questions about his mother-in-law, what with her son's recent return. Why hadn't he?  Well, never mind: the important thing for Lars was to head off his daughter's curiosity about the Duchess without making it appear as though he was trying to head it off.

"I ... I didn't know how to tell you this, my daughter," Lars finally said, deciding to go with the standard story Noble's in power used to stay in power when it was not their right to do so.  He turned and looked to Olivia, feigning an expression of devastation.  He dropped his gaze, drew and released an anxious breath, then -- even managing to conjure up a bit of wetness in his eyes -- lied to his daughter. "Lady Eddithia ... she has passed."

He faked some more devastation in his breathing and tone, then continued, "The Priest said she was sick ... more so than usual, for several moons.  They did their best, but...  They tell me she went quietly and peacefully ... in her sleep, six days ago."  

Lars felt a tear break loose and allowed it to descend his cheek for Olivia's benefit before he turned away to hide a feared smile.  He moved to the window and looked far beyond Portston, in the direction of the mountain monastery which was the still-very-much-alive Eddithia's prison-home.

"I only heard day before last andwas going to tell you last evening," he continued his lie, "But with the excitement of Lord Paul's return ... and what with not being able to locate you--"

That, of course, was a dig intended to make Olivia feel guilty about sneaking out of the castle.  He finished, "...I simply forgot."

He turned to face Olivia, a second hard-forced tear streaking down a cheek.  "Please forgive me, my daughter.  If you wish ... we can venture to the monastery day after next ... to pay our respects, and lay the Duchess to rest."

Day after next... Lars thought.  That should be enough time for Crone to slip out of Westrock and make the trip ... to put the old woman out of the Count's misery...

Sophia let out a small, soft squeal of surprise when Paul threw her onto the bed. Despite his playful countenance, half of her mind was convinced that he would hurt her. With her heart pounding nervously and hard against her chest, she looked towards him. When she saw him hurriedly removing his clothes, she grinned. In a few more seconds, he was standing naked in front of her. Her eyes moved down slowly from his face to his chest and down to his hardness that was visibly pulsating in anticipation of her. He was larger than the men she had been with and she wondered briefly how he could fit in her.

She stood up and adeptly untied the laces on her simple dress. In a few more minutes, she mirrored his nakedness. She reached out and took his hand. "Come, my Lord," she invited boldly as she pulled him to the bed.

---

"Lady Eddithia ... she has passed."

The Count's words stunned Olivia enough to make her sit down abruptly on one of the plush chairs. "What...? How...?" she whispered, complete and utter devastation on her face.

"The Priest said she was sick ... more so than usual, for several moons. They did their best, but... They tell me she went quietly and peacefully ... in her sleep, six days ago."

Olivia's eyes pooled with tears. She shook her head, unbelieving. "No..." came her heartbroken whisper as she thought of the happy times she had spent with her grandmother when she was younger. She remembered how the older woman's eyes crinkled with delight every time she pressed her lips to her cheek and how she clapped with delight whenever she danced and sang for her. How was she gone?

Distraught with the news, she didn't hear the rest of what her father said and only caught the last of his words.

"...If you wish ... we can venture to the monastery day after next ... to pay our respects, and lay the Duchess to rest."

With tears running down her cheeks, she looked up at the Count and nodded. Without any word, she slowly got to her feet and headed towards the door in a sort of daze. "I'll... go up to my room... and lie down for a bit, Father..."

She couldn't believe that her grandmother had passed away. How could she leave without even saying goodbye? Or even sending her a single letter.