<i>Planned it.</i>Not as such, Ryland thought, but only gave a small shrug. It wasn't as though he'd left a note in the box with the spyglass, although he and his friends were known to be distressingly rowdy sometimes to cause others to glance at them. But if Kethaias<i>had </i>spotted him, he had been interested to know what the reaction would be. He couldn't deny that the possibility of being seen had been known to him.<br/><br/>Vicious, ugly, and wicked. Ryland let Kethaias go this time, and didn't try to play. He sat himself down in his seat, opened the box to reveal the scarf, and then finished listening to the remaining song sets before returning to his friends.<br/><br/>"How can you not be<i>offended</i>?" Donian said in the carriage.<br/><br/>Ryland's hand flashed.<i>Why would I?</i>And he said, "Vicious, well, yes. Ugly is just patently untrue, and<i>wicked</i>..." He grinned. "Oh, I am so<i>very</i>wicked." He laughed, and pulled Donian closer.<br/><br/>Ryland didn't return to the castle until morning was casting its glow beyond the mountains. The light in Banque was often gradual until almost noon, which made it easy to sleep in. But on his way through the halls, he happened to witness a blond man dressed in<i>The Lark's Song</i>beautiful, voluminous overrobes just as he was leaving. What was more, Ryland recognized him.<br/><br/>"Your Highness," said Red Lark. (All of<i>The Lark's Song</i>employees were given names like this, although in private it was considered appropriate to indulge in actual names if one wished.)<br/><br/>Ryland gave him a bright smile and a little teasing hand signal. "And just who have<i>you</i>been to see? Certainly not my siblings..."<br/><br/>It was Kethaias. Ryland hooked his arm through Red's and led him back to his room. "I am afraid I have to run, so do make use of the bed as you like. I'll be back in, oh, hours, and then you<i>must</i>give me all the details."<br/><br/>Ryland undressed, freshened up with a little washing, and then changed his clothes. He made a rare appearance at the family breakfast, which Kethaias was always expected to attend because issues were presented afterward to be ruminated on (or argued) in the afternoon and then discussed in the evening for finalization or a pass to the next morning.<br/><br/>"Gharreld is sick," Syssiny said, just as Ryland seated himself.<br/><br/>He acted surprised.<i>Poison?</i>he signed under the table.<br/><br/><i>No, stomach.</i><br/><br/><i>Unfortunate timing.</i><br/><br/><i>She</i>didn't look particularly surprised, and raised her eyebrows at him before returning to her plate.<br/><br/>There was a moment between the taking up of plates and things when the family left the table to stand about and take chocolate while the servants changed the table settings and brought in papers and books and scrolls.<br/><br/>Ryland cheerfully cornered Kethaias, who was looking so pale and grouchy that no one had dared strike up conversation with him yet.<br/><br/>"I was hoping to see you," Ryland said. His smile was tempered this time, his words obviously a little more thoughtful, chosen, before he said them. And he kept his voice low, private.<br/><br/>"I wanted to apologize for last night. Whatever you may think of me now, it was<i>not</i>my intention to hurt you. I was... trying to demonstrate that I am, well, something of a slut. But it was ill-done, especially when you were, against expectations, trying to make a good start of things." He lifted a hand to the fold of his collar and thumbed it back to reveal the bright bit of scarf he'd tucked there. "I thought, forceful as you are, you would need force to see reason. But you are more subtle in your feelings than I guessed. If you'll forgive me... I thought we might start over, and perhaps not assume so much about one another this time around."