(121-02-13) Pansy Tantrum
Pansy Tantrum
Summary: What begins as a joyous reunion ends in a childish temper tantrum.
Date: Date of play (13/Feb/2014)
Related: The Pillowcase Strikes

Grand Hall - Garden Isle Manse

The first floor's main hall is grand, open room dominated by a massive fireplace and high-arched windows facing the street, protected by heavy iron bars. The white walls and polished white marble floors make it seem airy and bright. The starkness of the walls is softened by three long tapestries, depicting fantastical hunting scenes, while the marble floor is cushioned by rich Myrish rugs.

Down the center of the hall is a long, wide dining table, able to seat thirty comfortably. At the head of the table is an enormous chair of elaborately carved rosewood, with a door behind flanked by two high windows, giving a view of the sunlight gardens. Near the fireplace are smaller chairs, cushioned benches, and small tables for more intimate conversations.

Alcoves and doors at either side of the great hall lead to servants quarters, kitchens, and smaller sitting rooms. At the northwest and southeast corners of the building are square towers holding the stairs up to the floor above, where the bedchambers and other sitting rooms are found.

The raven was delayed and only arrived this morning, so the household is an uproar of activity, servants rushing around to prepare for Lady Janei's arrival. There's linens to air, furnishings to move around, sweets to bake. Amid all this chaos sits Lord Pansy, in a big chair near the great hall's windows looking out at the gardens. In addition to the chair's cushion, there are two or three other pillows beneath him as well. He's dressed in a fine velvet of forest green, trimmed with tiny golden roses, and his badge with the purple pansy on his chest. He looks both exhausted and excited at once, as he watches gardeners gathering flowers for his little sister's room.

Finally, the Tyrell wheelhouse arrives, stopping on Sphinx Street across the bridge from Garden Isle, surrounded by escorting guards and even one or two knights. (Most of which will likely be returning to Highgarden soon.) Almost immediately, Janei steps out of the wheelhouse, a look of relief as she gets out of the confined space. Her attending Septa is a few steps behind her, slower than Janei.

The knights who live at Garden Isle, Sers Laurent and Quill among them, along with their squires, are off at the tourney grounds, bashing one another around in preparation for the upcoming tourney. The ladies, Alaura, Keyte, and Kesha, are out doing something or another in the city, likely something dolphin-festive. So that leaves only Lord Garvin to greet his littlest sister when she arrives. When a page hurries in to tell him, he pushes himself to his feet, wincing a bit, and starts slowly walking toward the house's main doors, which stand open as servants rush out to help with the baggage.

In just a few moments, Janei is walking through those open front doors, glancing back momentarily to make sure the stiff-legged Septa is following. Then, she looks back inside and smiles brightly on seeing her brother, and runs over to him, "Garvin!"

Garvin's face brightens immediately, the dark circles beneath his eyes seeming to fade lighter. "Can this be little Janei?" he says, smiling warmly as he looks her over. "No, it can't be. This is some cousin, older than my sister by a year or more. Janei is but a babe in swaddling clothes, and here before me stands a regal lady!"

Janei giggles at that and says, "You haven't been gone from home *that* long." She steps in to hug her brother a moment, then steps back to look up at him in concern. "You look tired. Are you alright?"

Garvin hugs his sister warmly, his curls scented with the fragrance of lavender. Stepping back again, he smiles. "There was a sort of party at the home of Lady Mormont last night," he explains, turning to lead the way back to the chairs by the window. "I'm afraid I had a bit too much wine, and on the way back home, I fell from my horse." He blushes a little, giving a sheepish grin. "I was up half the night, soaking in a cool tub to ease my bruises. But I shall be well enough by the time the horse competitions begin. Will you be rested enough after your long journey to attend?"

Janei blinks at the explanation. She tries, very hard, but she can't help but giggle a little, however, at the image of Garvin falling off his horse. "Well, hope you're alright." Then, though, she brightens again and nods quickly, "I will be! All I've done most of the ride is rest."

Garvin very carefully lowers himself onto the stack of cushions again, as a maid places a flagon of honey-sweetened milk and two goblets on the small table, which already holds sliced fruits and tiny lemon cakes. "I'll live, I'm sure," he says with a smile. "But let this be a lesson for you: drink only as much as you can handle, and never ride your horse through darkened streets when you're in your cups. Cobblestones are -hard-." He gives a little giggle of his own, reaching to fill both goblets. "I was very surprised when the letter came this morning from the Citadel. However did you manage to convince mother to let you come down to Oldtown?"

Janei sits down on the other side of the table, and grins, "I told her that I should see some of the world before I have to get betrothed and married and all that. At least, I think that's the argument that worked. I used a lot of them."

A great wheelhouse stands on Sphynx Street, near the bridge to Garden Isle, and servants are busy lugging baggage into the house. In the great hall, near the windows to the garden, Garvin and his younger sister, Janei, are just sitting down for a little snack of fruit, lemon cakes, and sweetened milk. Garvin chuckles, shaking his head. "You were always better at winning arguments with our lady mother than any of the rest of us. Perhaps I should have you write the letter that begs for me to be allowed to marry Lady Visenya, rather than her sister Cerys." Although there are guards left at the manse, most of the soldiers and knights are off on the tourney ground, preparing for the upcoming jousts. The contingent of men-at-arms that arrived with the wheelhouse from Highgarden are busy washing off the dust of their journey and preparing to eat a hearty meal in the barracks.

Laurent scowls his way into the room, a plate of food in one hand. It's a meal that's more or less appropriate to the time of day, and he's stuffing a bite of it into his face with his free hand. He freezes like that, fingers in his mouth, two steps into the room when he sees Garvin and Janei. "Cousin," he says around his fingers, then pulls them from his mouth with a sucking sound to nod another greeting. "Lady Janei. I had no idea you'd be joining us."

Laurent scowls his way into the room, a plate of food in one hand. It's a meal that's more or less appropriate to the time of day, and he's stuffing a bite of it into his face with his free hand. He freezes like that, fingers in his mouth, two steps into the room when he sees Garvin and Janei. "Cousin," he says around his fingers, then pulls them from his mouth with a sucking sound to nod another greeting. "Lady Janei. I had no idea you'd be joining us."

Janei takes a sip of her milk and then blinks, "You don't want to marry your betrothed? Why?" This very idea seems surprising to her. Before she can ask any more questions, though, she looks up and smiles, "Ser Laurent. My brother said the raven only came this morning."

"Ser Thorn," Garvin says, turning to see his cousin. "Isn't it wonderful? Janei just arrived. Pull up a chair, join us." He's sitting on a stack of three or four cushions, and though he seems more than cheerful, he's also pale, dark circles beneath his eyes. Unlike yesterday, however, there's been no word among the guard about anything unusual happening in the night. Turning back to his sister, he shivers just a bit. "'Tis a long story, and very complicated, but Ser Daevon and I agree it would be better for everyone if I married his twin sister, rather than his younger one. Lady Cerys has been weeping night and day since she met me, but Lady Visenya is very happy at the prospect of becoming my wife." He says no word on how he feels about becoming her husband, instead sipping his honey-milk.

Katya enters on Laurent's heels, neither plate nor goblet in hand as she strides into the hall. "Ser Laurent!" she is calling, hailing the knight rather than greeting. When he stops she steps around him, and spots Garvin and Janei. "Ah. And Lord Garvin. Good day." She seems not to have been expecting him, nor the child at his side, who she greets with a warmer smile, "And Lady Janei, hello. Ser Laurent, I'd have a word with you today if you've a moment."

"Because the lady Cerys is an unbearable, weeping slag, and her sister is — by all accounts — clever and composed." He eyes Garvin for a moment, and seems ready to speak when Katya catches his attention. "Lady Katya," in a neutral tone, is her greeting. And a grunt that just might mean that he has time now.

As things will come in threes, there's yet another arrival. "Lady Angharad Locke, my lords and ladies," announces one of the men from the door. And so it is. She pokes her head in, really, without the sense of entitlement that allows one to sweep into other people's homes, invitation assumed. "Hello!

As things will come in threes, there's yet another arrival. "Lady Angharad Locke, my lords and ladies," announces one of the men from the door. And so it is. She pokes her head in, really, without the sense of entitlement that allows one to sweep into other people's homes, invitation assumed. "Hello!" The rest of her follows when she sees the roses — and thorn — are about. "Good day! I hope I'm not interrupting. We were riding by and saw the wheelhouse and I have to admit I'm terribly, terribly nosy." She smiles especially at Laurent, since it may very well be that she took the excuse to see him, as well. Primarily, even.

Janei ohs, and then says, "Well, it shouldn't matter to father which sister you marry, I don't think." She looks back up then and smiles, waving energetically to her cousin, "Lady Katya!" She's suddenly more formal as the stranger comes in, though, and greets, "Hello, Lady Angharad."

"Hello, Lady Katya!" Garvin says cheerfully. "Oh, don't mind us. If you need to take my dear cousin off for a secret conference, feel free. Janei and I are just catching up a little." But then there's Angharad, and Garvin's face brightens even more. "Lady Harry! Do come in and meet my sister." He straightens his shoulders a little, though he doesn't stand. "Lady Angharad Locke, may I present my sister, Lady Janei Tyrell. You remember Lady Katya, of course, and I certainly hope you remember my Thorn." He chuckles at his lame little joke, looking back to Janei with a smile. "Lady Harry and Ser Laurent are betrothed now, you see," he whispers.

"Lord Garvin!" Angharad seems equally delighted to greet Janei's brother. Stepping forward, she sweeps a low curtsy to Janei, her smile warm and wide. "Lady Janei. Such a pleasure to meet you. Your brother has been so incredibly kind in welcoming me to the family." She nods amiably to Katya. "Lady Katya. How nice to see you again." She squints a little at Laurent. Does she remember? "And you are — ? Oh, yes," she stands and shakes out her skirts. "Laurent. Of course." She flicks a hand dismissively, but the merry sparkle in her eyes and the shadow of dimples give her away.

"I hope you had a pleasant journey, cousin? I could swear you've grown even since I saw you last." Katya returns Janei's wave before turning another smile to Angharad, "Lady Angharad, good day." Her voice is lowered significantly in volume as she turns back to Laurent, explaining, "It is regarding the incident with the evening's intruder. I have had alarming reports that I hope you can contradict."

"If you'll excuse me," Laurent says glumly to Garvin and his sister, turning to follow Katya. But then Angharad appears, and he pauses. "My betrothed," he tells Janei, amused by her jest. Perhaps whats in his voice is nothing so poetic as love. But there's pride in his engagement to Lady Locke, to be sure. "I apologize. Lady Katya requires a moment of my time." He turns to face her, or to follow her, and nods his head. "What have you heard?"

Anghard grins as Laurent gives her that title, obviously rather pleaased with the match, herself. She blows the tall, rough-edged Tyrell a kiss as he goes.

Janei stands quickly to return Angharad's curtsey, saying formally, "It's a pleasure to meet you, and congratulations on your betrothal." But she has a big smile as she glances to Laurent and back to Angharad. Then she looks to Katya, grinning, but answers, "When we stopped to rest was the best part of the journey, I saw some beautiful sunsets I can't wait to try to paint."

Garvin's eyes widen at Katya's words, his face draining of color. He opens his mouth to say or ask something, but thinks better of it and gulps from his goblet instead. He scowls suddenly, looking at the contents. This isn't his customary midday mead! Oh right, Janei is here, so they're drinking milk. Setting down the goblet, he stands rather stiffly and begins dragging a chair from the main table over to the smaller one near the window. "While you wait for the Thorn to return, won't you join us, Lady Harry? We have some fruits and lemon cakes, and I'm sure someone is brewing tea even as we speak." Once the chair is in place, he returns to his own, carefully lowering himself onto the stack of cushions. "Did you bring any of your paintings with you, Janei? Oh! I just had a marvelous idea! You must get the Maiden's Knight to pose for you on his horse. Can you imagine a better subject for a painting?"

"I look forward to seeing them once you do," Katya grins at Janei, "I haven't seen a new work of yours in too long! If you'll all excuse me a moment, I'm just going to steal Ser Laurent away for a brief chat." She sweeps up the stairs after the knight.

"You are too lovely," Angharad approves of Janei. "And you paint! I, too, would love to see your work." She glances from Katya's retreat to Garvin's worry, tender concern and sympathy fleeting across her features. A quick smile of encouragement is flashed his way. "I'd love to join you — you're so kind." Sweeping her skirts out from beneath her as she sits, she brightens (the more) at Garvin's suggestion of a subject. "Oh, Lady Janei, he's like a storybook. A more beautiful man I've never seen, and so kind and chivalrous in person. I'm sure he'd be delighted to sit for you."

Janei nods to Garvin and says, "I brought a few." She smiles to Angharad and says, "They're all packed right now, but it'd be a pleasure to show them to you." Then she blinks, looking to Garvin in sudden shock, "You /know/ The Maiden's Knight?"

Garvin nods earnestly, his eyes alight. "I'm betrothed to one of his sisters now, but as I said, I'd rather be betrothed to his twin. Wait until you meet him! He's everything the songs about him say and more, Janei. Handsome, gallant, chivalrous. He and I have become such close friends, and I can't wait for you to meet him." He takes the plate of lemon cakes, holding it for Lady Harry and Janei to take one, if they wish. Meanwhile, a maid brings a mug of fragrant herbal tea for Lady Locke.

There are some ladies who turn down sweets, conscious of their figure… Angharad isn't one of them. She takes a lemon cake — then takes two, eyeshifting as though she's expecting her mother to spring out from behind a tapestry and judge her. "Oh, thank you," she says to the maid, smiling, then decimates the tiny pastry in almost one bite. This leaves her unable to endorse Garvin's opinions — except by widening her eyes and saying "Mmmph!" with happy excitement, nodding as she chews and swallows. She washes the cake down with a sip of tea, then finally adds, laughing, "He's positively dear. I sometimes forget Ser Daevon and the Maiden's Knight are the same person."

Janei accepts one of the cakes as well with a smile, though she only takes a small bite. She seems to be thinking, though, as she listens to Garvin's talk of the Knight, and she brightens again as he says she can meet him. She almost bounces with excitement and asks, "When? That would be the best!"

Garvin grins and takes one of the cakes himself, settling back on his cushions. "Soon, I promise. He visits quite frequently, though with the tourney coming up, he's been spending hours and hours practicing. You know, like Matrim and Laurent always do. But if we're lucky, he'll be at the races today, and you can meet him then." He glances toward the tower with the stairs, biting his lower lip. To Angharad, he asks, "What do you suppose Lady Katya could know that I don't already?"

Angharad shakes her head and reaches to place a comforting hand on Garvin's forearm. "I'm sure it's nothing, darling. She's probably just concerned for your safety. Such a thing shouldn't happen in a Great Lord's house." Then, to Janei, she politely explains, "There was an intruder in the Manse the other night, but you don't have to worry. Ser Quill of your brother's personal guard found the man and ejected him post-haste. Still, the incident has your cousin Laurent, among others, reevaluating the security of the manse. It will only make us all safer." She nods.

Janei smiles happily and says, when Garvin says Daevon may be at the races, "Oh, I hope so." Then she looks back to Angharad and her eyes widen again, and she asks, "What did they want? Was it a thief?"

Garvin bites his lower lip for a moment, then puts on a smile again for his sister. "What he wanted isn't important. What is though is that we shouldn't have to worry about him causing such a disturbance again." A well-placed gag or bars on Garvin's windows should prevent that. "Laurent is drilling the men night and day now, and there's to be a guard patrolling the hallways upstairs every night. So we'll all be perfectly safe. Isn't that right, Lady Harry?"

"Precisely," Angharad agrees with Garvin, sipping her tea. Then, to Janei, "Robbery was probably the motive, but in truth he was found out so swiftly he never even got his hands on a candlestick." She pauses, perhaps reflecting on that as an unfortunate choice of words, then sips her tea again.

Laurent stalks back into the great hall, chewing fiercely at whatever he last picked off the plate in his hand. Mouth full, he grunts his apology, coming to a halt behind his betrothed's chair. Speaking around the food — ham, now that you can see it — he says, "We need to talk, Cousin," to Garvin. "Soon." His tone makes it sound ominous.

Janei looks relieved at that and then says, "Good." She seems to trust their assessment that it won't happen again, and takes another drink of milk. She blinks, looking up to Laurent and then to Garvin. "Maybe I should go unpack?"

Garvin bites at his lower lip, looking up at Laurent for a long moment. Then he turns to Janei, his expression softening again. "And I'm sure you'll want to freshen up before we go to the horse competition. Maybe take a little nap, you must be so tired from the long trip. Kody, show Janei up to her room, would you?" A young page rushes forward and bows to everyone, then stands waiting to lead Janei away. Garvin looks up at Laurent again. "So let's talk."

"Sweetheart," says Angharad, looking up over her shoulder and taking one of Laurent's hands. "I'm sure it's not as dire as all that." Her smile is sweet but her words, and the slight loft of her eyebrows, pointed. She turns a smile, just as sweet, far less pointed, on Janei. "It was so wonderful to meet you, Lady Janei. I'm so delighted you've come to stay. I'm sure we'll see quite a bit of each other." She glances back at Laurent, warmly, then adds, "I'm around a lot."

Janei nods and stands up, and smiles to Angharad again as she says, "It was a pleasure to meet you, too. Have a good day." She turns to follow after the page then, though she sneaks one last lemon cake to take with her. She does, indeed, look tired, however.

Laurent's brow climbs with the gentle rebuff, almost managing a look of surprised curiosity. He offers Angharad his hand, saying to Garvin, "If you would excuse us, Cousin, I meant to show Milady those Qohorik roses I planted last week. I'll speak with you soon?"

Garvin's eyes widen again, darting over to Angharad. "Oh yes, you simply must see how lovely Laurent's Qohorik roses are." Hint-hint, no matter what they really look like, they're lovely. Smiling, he says to Laurent, "Yes, I really do think we should talk soon, Cousin. I can only imagine the sort of things you've been hearing."

Angharad places her hand in Laurent's, surreptiously brushing a few crumbs of lemon cake off her bodice. Oops. "I'm sure they're splendid — and I would love to see them." The smile and look she gives Laurent, however, are just shy of unladylike. This is what lascivious looks like, wrapped in innocence. So… yeah. They're totally going to view the roses.

Coming from the tourney grounds astride is one dark clothed knight. Though not one of the many new arrivals-more or less one of the several attached to the manse already given the lack of dust and baggage he brings. As Laurent and Lady 'Harry' slide out the Blackrood makes his way in, as he is busy undoing the cloak worn over his shoulders. That is passed to a wiry youth who follows in stride-and then wordlessly disappears. Gloves are pulled off as boots make the long strides to the table nigh window. A look is given first to the cakes-and then to the cushioned lordling there perched. A tightness shows in his jaw there for a moment, as gloves are tucked into thick leather belt and left to hang.

"Does your ass pain you so much that a stack is needed my Lord?" a wry tone, to what would be a usual bark. "You'll never believe the ghastly tale that's on the streets…." Quillian says with a brow raised.

Garvin shudders just a bit, squirming on the cushions. "I fell from my horse last night," he lies, unable to meet Quill's eyes. "On my way home from Lady Mormont's affair. Would you join me for some cakes and tea?" A page runs off to the kitchen, and Garvin finally manages to look directly at the knight. "What is this ghastly tale you've heard? I hope you cut out the tongue of whatever liar told it."

"Ah, Ser Quillian. Just the man I was looking for." For the second time today Katya enters shortly after a knightly cousin she's apparently in search of. Garvin isn't re-greeted precisely except with a look and a nod. "How do you fare today, cousin?"

"Of course." Quillian replies, before he is giving a brief nod. He will join his cousin apparently. "We should put that horse down." a raise of the brow before he is allowing the page to serve said tea once he has returned. "I have not yet. I'd rather find the source, first. Besides, it would only serve as credit in the crowded grounds." A light sniff as he examines his nails before letting eyes slide back up to the Lordling. "But, I'll suss it out." he adds.

And there as he remains in his seat Quill watches Garvin for a moment. "Apparently there is a Pillowcased bandit that stalks the countryside with a large…Sword looking to impale young men." A frown shows-that is till Katya comes in, and quickly the knight stands. "My Lady Katya, as I live and breath." A good diversion to the conversation. "I fare well enough. I figured I would see whom has signed for the lists and melees. I had thought of entering this year-but I believe my Lady Wife, would prefer I keep my sword sheathed for the time being. And you coz?" Katya does earn a smile, honest one at that.

Garvin's eyes widen a bit, and a blush darkens his cheeks. "Pillowcase bandit, you say?" He takes a moment to swallow a healthy dose of honeyed milk, shivering. "I think we need not fear such a creature. I'm sure there are better ways for you to spend your time than tracking down these rumors. Ah, Lady Katya, will you join us as well? I was hoping you'd share with me what you had to say to Laurent. It may be that I am able to shed some light upon the matter as well."

Katya greets Quillian with a hand on his shoulder and a smile. "It is good to see you, Ser. I will be disappointed not to see you compete, but I suppose your wife must be concerned you may gain too many enemies by embarassing your opponents." She considers the tea but neglects to sit, merely leaning on the back of Quill's chair for now. "I hope that you are, for I would very much like to see some light shed upon certain aspects of the matter," she replies to Garvin. "I have heard that this masked attacker broke into this very house and yet was allowed to leave in peace. I'm sure you can see how confusing that might be."

Quill grins back to Katya, whilst turning a bit of a blind eye to Garvin's discomfort. "We will all have to lunch or dinner soon. Thus so we can all catch up." Which means he will be bringing the Dornishwoman who is his bride, with him. A quick embrace as cousins are want-is given before he is taking up the tea. A small frown, but then he will not be drinking till later-likely during the horseplay this eve. "I likely need a bit more practice-I've not been keeping myself for tournaments as much as I have for spearing men." And there he looks back to Garvin and there an amused look given. "Funny-I happen to know more about this particular story."

Garvin presses his lips in a thin line, throwing Quill a quick, sharp glance. "What is confusing about it?" he asks, reaching for a slice of apple. "The man was ejected from the isle, nor do I think he poses any further threat to our safety. The matter is closed to my satisfaction, and I know our Thorn and our Blackrood will be drilling their men tirelessly to ensure no future breech of our defenses occurs." He forces a tight smile. "So you see, everything is well now."

"We must," Katya agrees with Quillian, returning his embrace, "And soon! It has been too long." She gives his arm a squeeze before allowing the warmth in her expression to rapidly fade as the conversation turns. That the Oakheart knight is familiar with this particular tale does not seem to surprise the lady, though she leaves it be for the moment. Garvin's explanation draws no answering smile, tight or otherwise. "What is confusing, cousin, is that you are satisfied to allow men off the street to break into this house and endanger its occupants without suffering the slightest consequence. You practically invite other thieves and rapists to try their hand knowing no harm will befall them."

The sharp glance is received with a snort, and a sip of tea as dainty as the Blackrood pleases. Cup grabbed first before he sits. Pinky out. Eyes flick back towards Garvin. "Yes, he was-perhaps not as I would eject him, but it was the Lord's choice." another sip there as he shifts in his seat. "Yes." agreed briefly. "We plan to allow no more grubs within his Lordship's garden." A sniff and he rolls his shoudlers. "And partially as to why you will not see me within the tournament this time. My foci is entirely spent on ensuring the isle's security."

As Katya now joins in-the knight draws silent a look given back to Garvin, whom is seated on his high mass of pillows. Katya remains standing-where as Quillian is seated at the table with Lord Garvin. Legs crossed and sipping tea.

Garvin lets out an exasperated sound, brows drawing together. "Lady Katya, there was no danger to anyone in this house but myself, and as you can plainly see, my head is quite attached. This was, essentially, a private matter, and it has become entirely too public for my taste." He glances again at Quill, then back to Katya again. "I sense there is something deeper you wish to know. If this is true, I wish you'd simply come out and ask it. I don't have my lord father's gift for diplomacy, so stop trimming around the edges and cut straight to he heart of the hedge, if it please you."

"I am dancing around nothing," Katya replies, and indeed her gaze is straightforward and settled firmly on Garvin, tone still cold but even. "I have no wish to know any details of your affairs. All I wish to know from you, cousin, is whether this man broke into this house."

It is there that mid sip, Quillian pauses and looks back towards Garvin. Taking time to set down his cup. "I don't think-Cousin, that anyone is asking where you plant your seed-and whether the ground is fallow. That is between you and the seven." And, well those who bloody well saw it. "The real question-is as Katya states. If he broke into the house-then there is a dangerous precident set." A sniff and there he is looking for the kettle. More tea is needed for this particular topic.

In from outside comes one Lady Emilia, the woman pushing back the hood of her cloak, water beading down in rivulets down the expanse of cloak from the rains outside. With a slight roll of her shoulders she'll nod to a servant who comes to assist her in getting out of the cloak, left in a dress of a deep gold with green trim, suited for the hot summer, v-neck dipping down deeply in the fashion her people enjoy.

Thick hair is loose and brushed down to a fine sheen, the woman wearing jewelry as well upon her. With a murmur she'll get directed to where her husband is, soft slippered feet taking her that way then. Upon entering the room she will clear her throat softly. Onwards she will step, gazing between the three as she heads towards where her husband is.

Garvin takes a long breath, his eyes closed for a moment. "He did break in," he admits, re-opening his eyes, "through my own bedroom window. His purpose was not honorable, yet nor too was it to cause any violence to anyone but me." He glances again to Quill, frowning. "No precedent has been set. One man slipped past our defenses, but I have every faith in your men to prevent such happening again. Has word of this gone beyond these walls? This rumor you've heard, about the Pillowcase Bandit. Was Garden Isle mentioned?" He looks up at the sound of a clearing throat, one brow rising as he nibbles on an apple slice.

"There was such a commotion that half the house was raised from their beds," Katya replies dryly, "Doors broken down, pillowcased men escorted through the estate. How long do you think that will remain a secret, precisely? And if he came into your own room for you alone, how did he end up in Ser Laurent's?" She shakes her head in obvious dissatisfaction. "If you must conduct yourself in such a manner with such lowlifes, at least have the decency to do so in a way that does not reflect on the rest of us, or expose your cousins to the danger of random intruders. What if it had been Ser Laurent's betrothed he came upon, or one of my sisters? Would you be so unconcerned then?" Her knuckles pale on the back of Quillian's chair, and it's only the sound of another entering that turns her cool stare from Garvin. "Lady Emilia," she greets her, with a smile that seems very abrupt given her demeanor of a second ago, "Welcome. It has been an age, I swear."

There's a brief blow of hair out there, as one hand comes up to smooth over his face. Words are trapped and all that is managed is a groan. As fingers drag down he turns his head-likely as the sound of someone else coming into the bloody room is almost not welcomed now-save this face is familiar enough. Though he doesn't rise, Quillian does offer a hand out almost lazily towards Emilia. "Oh you're awake." said with wry tone-though if honest his wife was up earlier than he was today. He does motion to a close by chair-which he would've given to his cousin, Katya-but now it is for the Dornishwoman instead. "We were just discussing the Pillowcase bandit.." he says by means of letting his wife in on the conversation.

Emilia's chin will tilt forwards as she allows for a warm smile to touch her lips upon the greeting from Katya, "Lady Katya, indeed it has, for which I am most remorseful, we must make up for time you and I." By way of apology, Emilia looking towards her husband, smile waning slightly though the warmth still infuses the curve of her lip as she extends a hand out to lightly brush her fingertips along his before moving to take the chair offered, "Oh?" A glance then to all three, two getting a slant of her head to the side to do so as bangles upon her arms jingle softly as her hands are placed upon the table, "Please, continue."

"Oh, for the love of the Seven!" Garvin growls, pushing himself to his feet. "Is it that you can't hear me, or that you won't? He did not come here for you or your sisters or my sister or anyone but me. And he was no random intruder, I know exactly who and what he is. The matter is settled, and if I hear one more word about it, I shall send you women packing back to Highgarden with instructions for my father to marry you all off to the first hedge knights to trip over the garden's barricade." Face flushed with sudden anger, he turns toward his distant cousin's wife, and he attempts to soften his tone. "Lady Emilia, I beg your pardon for my unseemly outburst. I'm certain that Ser Quillian and Lady Katya will be more than happy to relate all the salacious details of the unfortunate misadventure. It seems there is nothing else to talk about today." With a curt bow to her, then Katya, and finally to Quill, he turns and stomps off toward one of the tower stairways, limping only a little.

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