Chapter Text
“Give me that,” Aamon Paxley snatches the parchment away from her dainty fingers. He could tell that she genuinely didn’t know about this process. He’d have to ask about that one day, but her frozen face concerns him. Her cracked glasses disappear into thin air, and she looks like she wants to be ran over by a carriage.
Why isn’t she saying anything? Aamon thinks that it’s obviously shocking news to her, but it’s not like she’ll be sent to the abyss after they do the deed. They’ll probably forget about it in a few days. At least that’s what he’d hope for.
It bothers him, but he can’t do anything about tradition.
What he can do — is address the silence.
She hasn’t responded to him yet. She looks dead in a comedic, ghastly way. So he takes the parchment away from her delicate fingers and skims through it.
He knew she was brilliant, thanks; he did his research in those two weeks he’s been keeping to himself, but to think that she considered his situation as well…
While she was busy meeting the afterlife, Aamon was busy looking at the contract she proposed. There were little notes in it, italicized, and she didn’t read these out loud, so he found himself reading them. There were funny doodles around, too, so he was pretty sure this was a draft instead of it being the final one.
One. Duke Aamon Paxley shall take care of Lady Guinevere Baroque and vice versa. No harm shall be done to one another to maintain the relationship, or lack thereof, healthy and manageable. Let’s have a bearable life together, without hurting one another. Yes!
Two. Lady Guinevere Baroque must fulfill the role of a good, if not perfect duchess. Be useful, Gwen. Don’t be a liability. You owe enough as it is!
Three. Duke Aamon Paxley must allow Lady Guinevere Baroque to wear whatever she wants. Well, a selfish wish. But I must put this out there. Father always let me chose what to wear…
Four. Duke Aamon Paxley must fulfill his promise of helping the House Baroque.
Five. Duke Aamon Paxley must not, at all costs, follow orders or favors from any House Baroque members without letting Lady Guinevere Baroque aware of it. At all costs!
Six. Neither Duke Aamon Paxley nor Lady Guinevere Baroque shall see other people or be romantically or sexually involved with anybody else. My brother would kill him. And he might be seeing someone. Have to ask at some point... can you believe being the one to ruin a relationship!?
Aamon allows himself a laugh. She doesn’t seem to notice in her frozen state.
Seven. Both parties involved should refrain from having children in the first two years of marriage.
Aamon pauses. This. This was the only flaw in this contract. Two years is a long time. Not only that, but she somehow missed a lesson in noble etiquette. She didn’t know that the marriage had to be consummated in that way within a week.
“Earth to Baroque,” he calls, and her head turns at him. “Are you back?”
She says nothing.
“You good?”
I want to die. Guinevere, ever since she was a child, always thought she would end up marrying out of love. She was never given any in-depth education regarding arranged marriages. When she was in her second year at the academy, girls her age were already talking — some sulking — about who they were betrothed to.
At the time, she had no idea what that meant, so she went looking for answers herself at the Tower of Knowledge.
Reading about it was horror. She didn’t know women had to sign their lives out to men they didn’t even know for the sake of family relations. Some were even implied to be sold off by their own parents. She couldn’t finish reading everything about it — what kind of ridiculous idiosyncrasy was this — all she knew was that she was relieved for her father never thought of even mentioning it to her.
She was safe.
Until, of course, the recent happenings in her life, which led her to believe she wasn’t as special as she thought. Her father took it upon himself to marry her off to whoever, and they were just lucky enough that a kind, highly educated man agreed upon it. Rumors were circulating that Lady Guinevere Baroque was like a mad dog, so people were quite confounded on how to view her. Surely, the Duke of Aberleen himself saw her as trouble before even meeting her.
Out the window it goes; the idea of marrying for love.
But that’s okay. That’s fine. She’s been taking it in slowly but surely the past few weeks. Aamon Paxley, out of all people, was not the worst she could get. Not at all. He was a foul-mouthed guy in private, a pristine gentleman in public — but she knows he means no harm. Not to her. Her brother is his friend. How could he ever?
She even went to the trouble of creating a contract to make everything comfortable for them. It won’t be until two years 'til she’d be remotely accepting of doing anything… intimate with him, but it was better than nothing. She’d hoped that in those two years, she’d be friends with him, enough to ignore the awkward duty they had at hand.
Guinevere, however, failed to take into account the timing of it all. Were the elders that desperate? Surely not! The Paxleys weren’t dwindling in numbers. There were several women in their household, but they had even more men than that. Were they so helpless that they needed to continuously force this duty onto their young head?
Guinevere wondered. More than that, she was suspicious. Was there something going on that she missed along the lines? She was curious.
Along with the curiosity, though, was suspicion.
“Say,” she starts, “Why are they so keen on having you marry?”
Aamon looks at her like she’s stupid; he furrows a brow and frowns. “Didn’t we discuss this last time? I didn’t know you were a bit forgetful.”
“I’m not,” she says as-a-matter-of-factly, “I know we talked about it already. I just don’t know why they want an heir from you so fast. You’re not even old and dying. Are you?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s my duty. And no, I’m not dying.”
“It doesn’t make any sense, though. You’re definitely not that old to be pushing this. You’re twenty-four! Your fiefs and territories are all prosperous. Of course they’d want an heir to the dukedom, that’s given…” She mumbles, “But this quick?”
“I told you; that’s just how things are. The elders want an heir as soon as possible.” He sighs. “Look, I promise I’m not trying to do you any wrong here. I won’t harm you, Baroque.”
“I can’t help but feel like you’re not telling me the full scope,”
“I won’t hurt you, I thought you’d figured as much,”
“I know you won’t. I trust that you won’t. Funny as that may sound. But I have questions that need answers,”
He’s frowning, now. Like she’s overstepped. As if she’s entered his safety bubble. A sanctum for his thoughts. “We’re not so close for me to tell you everything. Don’t pry.”
There it is. Yes. That energy she felt when she first met him. Something dark — it’s there, lurking.
This was no longer a conversation between Aamon and Guinevere. This was a conversation between two nobles who’ve found themselves at the end of a dark road. She feels her mana buzzing in the air, but even more than that, his aura is practically surrounding her.
It’s murky. His aura is murky.
It’s dark and ominous.
And yet it doesn’t faze her. She lets it hug her body like it belongs there. So be it.
She scoffed, “You really do think I’m stupid, don’t you?” She stands up and grabs the letter she had just received moments before Aamon came barging in her dormitory. She holds it right in front of his face as she stood. “Tell me everything. It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? We’re practically engaged.”
“It isn’t finalized,” he defends.
“I’m giving you my whole life,” she starts, “All the decisions I used to be able to make for myself freely — all of that would end up being yours. All the things I wouldn’t want to miss out on, but have to, because I’m going to be your wife. All the memories I want to make while I’m still young. I’m not gonna have them anymore. I’ve resigned it to you. So let me know what's going on.”
He stays silent, eyeing the parchment with curiosity. Aamon lifts a brow.
He eyes her like a predator would a prey, and the parchment on her fingers seemed to look like a bonus. Not for long. He’d surely want to hear about this. After all…
“If you tell me, I’ll trade it off for this.”
Aamon cocks his head to the side. “And that is?”
“A letter your brother sent me.”
EARLIER…
Guinevere smiles as she reads the letter in her fingers. It seems that they got very lucky. Felicity had written her a letter thanking her for her kindness. It was a very lengthy one explaining what happened the moment the healer came by Castle Gorge. It stated that it took a lot of convincing to make her father believe that Guinevere paid for all of it. At the very end, Felicity writes that her life is indebted.
Guinevere was pleased to hear that she helped Felicity in some way. She felt like the even more generous version of cupid. While her savings practically suffered a hit, it didn’t matter. Felicity deserved it. This is the power of love!
She sets the letter down and proceeds to write one of her own to respond when a messenger bird arrives with an envelope stamped with the seal of the Paxleys.
“It’s been two weeks already!?”
She hurriedly tore the envelope open, expecting a letter from the Duke of Aberleen himself, but to her surprise — it was none other than Gusion Paxley. Her fingers shake. Her eyes start to tear up. How could this be?
Gusion disappeared many months ago.
She didn’t think he’d write her at all, considering that he’s been banished and in hiding. For what reason, she doesn’t know.
The nerve-wrecking sensation doesn’t leave.
She doesn’t want it to.
This was Gusion.
Her heart swells with ache. Even his handwriting makes her mourn. She no longer remembers his scent. There’s a clear description of it in her mind, of course, but she doesn’t remember what it’s like now.
She read through the letter for a while, shaking and at times, tearing up. When she was done, she physically had the need to go out and breathe.
This wasn’t what she expected.
She needs a breather. Guinevere opens the door to her dorm room, dressed in white, ready to just roam around the academy daydreaming about how her life would be right now if she ran away. In another universe, she imagines running away from the castle. She imagines being chased by the guards, but she defeats them and somewhere along the lines, she finds Gusion in his banished state. It was such a ridiculous idea…
“Don’t joke around,” he snarls, surprised that she’d go this far. He doubts there’s anything on that sheet at all.
Anything that involved Gusion’s name, he was sure to listen. But to think she’d use it against him — that hit a nerve. Weren’t they friends at the academy? He looked into her past two weeks ago. He thought they were just casual friends, but Giotto had given him folders upon folders of reports. Some people were implying they were together. They were really close, apparently.
He didn’t expect that.
He wondered for a while, too. How did she feel about him leaving?
Was she hurt?
“As if I would do that,” she mutters, “We’re clearly talking seriously.”
He frowns. “Alright, how about you show me the letter, then I tell you?” He mentally notes that he’s caught her. This is easily the worst ploy anyone could’ve done. Gusion hasn’t contacted anyone from the family. Why would he write a letter to an outsider?
It didn’t make sense.
“Sure.”
Dear Gwen,
This is probably the hardest thing I’ve done in a long while. I honestly just wanted to run off and play damsel in silence, but I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you without even giving a proper farewell.
Things at home aren’t okay, but you’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ve figured that part out already.
I wondered for a while if you believed the news they’ve been saying about me. Can you imagine that? Me running off to marry an heiress of an enemy family? Dumbest thing I’ve heard in a while. Fed the masses pretty well — but I know you. You won’t believe in any of those.
You know me far too well, have watched me for years, and I’m certain you could tell things weren’t always perfect behind the scenes.
If I wasn’t so embarrassed about talking about everything, I would’ve told you. Maybe you could’ve helped.
No, you certainly would have.
It’s all too late now, though.
I’m sending this to you to confirm it, but I’ve been banished. I’m currently in hiding. It’s crazy out here but gods, I haven’t had this much fun in years. It feels like an adventure. I meet new people every day. I go by a different name with these people so I won’t be found, but life’s been a tad bit forgiving.
I’m learning to do better with my magic and my blades. I want to start anew, but old habits die hard. Hilarious coming from me — but hey. My body’s always looking to train and move around. Better than doing nothing and picking up girls from wherever.
You’d be so proud of me, Gwen. Incredibly proud. I’m finally letting go of all the bad things and focusing on myself and the power I have.
I think I wanna join an arena to show off, but people would definitely notice me or know who I am… got any good spells to alter one’s appearance?
I’d hate that, why would I want to cover this handsome face right? But it’s better than being recognized. If you have a spell or charm in mind, please send a message to the post this letter was sent from. Preferably spells to make me huge. Big muscles. I want to have silver hair for once, and I know, I know, you’re probably rolling your eyes right now and say but that’s Paxley’s signature hair color! Woman, calm down, everybody knows that Gusion Paxley the black sheep has brown hair.
No one would think I’m a Paxley.
You know, it feels lonely lately. There’s so many people around me but it feels so lonely. I think you’re rubbing off on me. If you were hear you’d tell me to plot revenge against my family in the vilest ways possible — or if it was a good day you’d tell me to return and apologize. And run again. I don’t know. I have no idea what I’m writing anymore. But this can’t be crazy, right? I’ve spent a good amount of time with you. We were thick as thieves and now we’re suddenly so apart. I don’t like how it feels.
You know what’s crazy though? I’ve been hearing all this news about you and my brother. I didn’t know you guys met at all. It wasn’t from the papers and merely rumors from pubs, but you’re seriously dating him? Lord of Light, choose a better man. My brother will always put the family first before any woman. You deserve better than that. I mean, he’s a good guy, he’s my brother after all, but you could do better. I met a demon hunter last week and I instantly thought of you once I became friends with him. See!? Even a random I found at a pub seemed like a better match for you. Break up with him or something. You better not marry him, you’ll regret it!
It’s your life, though...
You know I’ll always be here for you, even in the dark.
Maybe one day we can catch up and talk about everything. Maybe I can tell you why I was banished. Why I’m all alone for now.
I miss you, Gwen, and know that I love you always. Never forget it.
Sincerely,
Gusion.