This Motto of Gilthlore. He was respectable, even if the words coming out of his mouth were anything but. King Layvterna, in all his round bellied, overbearing glory, watched as the young king spoke his words. Watched with a slotted gaze. His daughter was a beauty, all his children were, but Genevieve especially. There was value in that and Layvterna knew it. Even as a child, kings and princes were waiting for the day she was of age to marry to bid for her hand. And if Genevieve had not grown to be such a stubborn young woman, she’d have gone to the highest bidder. As it were, Genevieve refused them all and acted horribly enough to be sent away -according to them, Genevieve insists she was never rude-. All save one, who was cruel enough that she actually<span style="font-style: italic">ran</span>away. King Frelfor. His kingdom lay south of Gilthlore's borders. And every single one of them demanded their coin back. But this King Motto? He wanted his coin<span style="font-style: italic">and</span>Layvterna’s daughter. And Layvterna didn't like that.<br/><br/>Layvterna crossed his arms over his chest, a frown pulling down at his lips. It was obvious the man wasn't happy. “Your Majesty, you are a young king. And I know you mean no disrespect…” A glance was had towards his children as they spoke quietly between themselves, the younger two speaking animatedly while Genevieve listened. The frown still remained on his face. It was obvious Genevieve had gotten to Motto. “But you are asking for a commodity without payment.” Layvterna’s words sounded cold, even to his own ears, but his words were truth. “If you choose to believe the money spent for Genevieve will go towards churches, that's your prerogative.” The round man's thick hands came up, as if to stave off argument from the king. “However, I respect your sentiment. No doubt it was Genevieve’s influence.”<br/><br/>The old King feigned a forlorn sigh, as if he were coming to some hard thought decision. “If you wish to wed without coin, I can return it.” There was an obvious glint to the old man's eye, but it was hard to discern its intent. “<span style="font-style: italic">Should</span>I return it, Cassie-" He nodded to the striking young girl laughing with her siblings as he spoke. “Stays here.” There was a brief pause given, perhaps only to punctuate his next words. “And Genevieve returns home with me, to be married off to another.” Layvterna knew Motto was no fool. Sure, Cassie would surely mature and grow to match Genevieve’s beauty, but the sisters education had been drastically different growing up. Cassie was a learned girl, cultured, but Genevieve had been raised and educated to be a Queen, not a mere nobleman’s wife. She was educated to help run a country, not just an estate.<br/><br/>______<br/><br/>“How long will you both be staying?”<br/><br/>Genevieve’s siblings looked to each other, exchanging an unreadable expression. “Father is looking for a suitor for me.” Cassie spoke behind her hand, hiding a blush. It seemed the girl was a romantic, unlike her sister. “That's why I'm here. He said he's going to let me stay for a few months!” Cassie giggled and clapped her hands together, obviously excited by the idea of being abroad with Genevieve. “He's very handsome, wouldn't you say?” Cassie loudly whispered while looking to Motto pointedly. Genevieve twisted. Motto didn't look happy. In fact he almost seemed to be brooding.<br/><br/>“Yes.” She wanted to share what she had seen the night before, but it would have been out of scorn and something she knew she'd come to regret. Eyes slipped from Motto to Gerald. “And you, little brother?” Her brother shook his head and shrugged. “I'll be leaving with father. I'm only here to look at potential noble ladies.” There was a pause and a smile. “Well, that and your wedding.”<br/><br/>The noble siblings paused in their speaking as Mildred approached. “My Lady, I'd like to look at your foot, if possible.” Genevieve drowned. It would be indecent to- “Not here, obviously My Lady. I've set up a private room.” The relief on Genevieve’s face was apparent as she stood, rather awkwardly while rejecting Mildred's help. After momentary farewells were given, Genevieve was lead to her private room. She was seated in a hard wooden chair. It groaned as she shifted and brought her foot up to Mildred's knee, who then proceeded to unwrap it.<br/><br/>“Its looking much better than last night.” Genevieve winced as a cool cloth was pressed upon the tender flesh. Her hands had curled around the fabric of her gown as it sat at the knees, so as not to get blood on it. “Mm..” It was a low sound let out with a slow breath. “It might look better, but it still very much hurts.” A hiss for a particularly hard press of the cloth. The wounds themselves weren't particularly deep, some were deeper than others, but they hadn't required stitching. The swelling had gone down, the ripped flesh sticking to each other kept the wounds clean, but with Mildred having to pry them apart to clean, it didn't feel so good.<br/><br/>“Why had I been so-ah!- stupid?” Genevieve lamented, her knuckles turning white in her skirts as she gripped them. “I knew that vase was broken. I had seen it as I walked by the first time.” Mildred paused in her gentle cleaning to look up at her mistress. Genevieve’s eyes were lowered, her fingers twisting at her gown while she desperately tried not to begin crying again. She looked so forlorn. Mildred simply gave Genevieve's bare knee a squeeze. Sometimes people didn't want a conversation, but rather someone to listen and sympathize with.