[ It was different. Those that betrayed Father were betraying the Knave. To his knowledge, there was never a child of hers that betrayed the House of Hearth. They knew better. Their loyalty comparable to his own. The discomfort in his eyes was clear, once brilliant and now dulled and glossy.
Why is this man prodding?
Why is he asking of things they can't change? ]
...I don't know.
[ There's no way that Father would turn on them. ...He has to keep telling himself that. ]
[ What he expects is more sugar-coating, or else more defense of a world inherently indefensible. What he gets is a surprising show of vulnerability. No veneer of charm, no promises of any great escape, no assurances of Father's good judgement even in the face of a blatant misstep. Just a look in Lyney's eyes that speaks so much louder than cleverly crafted words. ]
Not knowing can be worse than having some idea. They say it only helps so much to brace yourself for a punch, but I like the blows I see coming a lot more than the ones that take me by surprise.
[ It's the closest thing he can give to reassurance when he doesn't know, either. And can't protect him from whatever the outcome might be. Should he ask again? For an audience with her, an opportunity to recommend mercy if a Harbinger has any to spare? He suspects Lyney's pride wouldn't allow for such a thing. ]
[ He can't do this. To question Father was blasphemy, it was a disgrace. Father had kept their family safe, ensured nothing would ever harm them... that they weren't just lost to the shadows and darkness in the world. They pay their prices, like everything else in the world – but that safety.
Oh, his Lynette...
Up to his feet he goes, dusting at his hips idly. ]
Whatever awaits me on the surface is what is suitable. My time here is by Fontaine's jurisdiction and judgment. My time returning to the House... Father's judgment will be just as well.
[ Lyney is fully aware of his 'betrayal', the risk of putting the House down its best operative. It ruins Father's plans and puts things at risk. It was his fault, but he'd choose Lynette's safety time and time again.
...Father couldn't save her this time.
He gives a curt nod to Wriothesley, his stomach tight with a forced smile. ]
[ Reassurance doesn't always work as intended, Wriothesley knows--but an unknowable pang of something flits momentarily in his chest as Lyney backs off. Maybe he's said too much, or too little, or maybe it's simple unease that reasserts itself between them. Whatever it is, the boy is done with this conversation. Wriothesley won't keep him.
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Why is this man prodding?
Why is he asking of things they can't change? ]
...I don't know.
[ There's no way that Father would turn on them. ...He has to keep telling himself that. ]
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Not knowing can be worse than having some idea. They say it only helps so much to brace yourself for a punch, but I like the blows I see coming a lot more than the ones that take me by surprise.
[ It's the closest thing he can give to reassurance when he doesn't know, either. And can't protect him from whatever the outcome might be. Should he ask again? For an audience with her, an opportunity to recommend mercy if a Harbinger has any to spare? He suspects Lyney's pride wouldn't allow for such a thing. ]
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Oh, his Lynette...
Up to his feet he goes, dusting at his hips idly. ]
Whatever awaits me on the surface is what is suitable. My time here is by Fontaine's jurisdiction and judgment. My time returning to the House... Father's judgment will be just as well.
[ Lyney is fully aware of his 'betrayal', the risk of putting the House down its best operative. It ruins Father's plans and puts things at risk. It was his fault, but he'd choose Lynette's safety time and time again.
...Father couldn't save her this time.
He gives a curt nod to Wriothesley, his stomach tight with a forced smile. ]
The tea was delicious, by the way.
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He straightens his tie, nodding small. ]
...Take care on your way back.