(123-07-12) Three Names
Three Names
Summary: Lady Ynys has a list of three names to show Princess Visenya.
Date: 12/07/123
Related: None.
Players:
Visenya..Ynys..

It is evening, and like the day evening seems to have a certain rhythm to it. The sun sets, and the nobility dress and then they dine. After dinner the more reserved remain in the castle to socialize while the more rowdy head into the village for drinking and seeking out company in the pillow house. Princess Visenya generally chooses the latter. Tonight she retires to her chambers early. Her handmaidens have taken the intricate silk robes off of their Princess, and one brushes her hair while the other applies a lacquer to her nails. She sees Ynys in the mirror when the Mistress of Keys comes in. "Lady Ynys." She says with a hint of incisiveness in her voice.

That mirror knows Lady Ynys well, and she it. When she comes in she moves straight to a point at which her reflection will be visible to Princess Visenya, and the princess's to she herself. It shows her standing tall and proud, at her ease rather than at attention; in place of her usual striking single-coloured gowns, she is attired for the relative cool of the evening in layered sandsilk robes in shades of orange and yellow; her many-coloured bracelets are bright against the brown leather of the ledger she holds clasped against one hip. "I have brought the month's accounts if you wish to cast an eye over them, Your Highness," she suggests, though that is only a pretext. "I have here also a list of three names for your consideration."

Visenya gives the handmaidens a subtle little look that sends them away from the Princess, and out of the room. She turns on her stool to face Ynys and says, "Thank you. I'll have a look at them in a moment." She lifts her hand to blow on the lacquer on her nails before her brow raises ever so slightly. "Three names?" She smiles a shade, "You must spare me the suspense, my Lady." She pulls the pale pink wrapper she is wearing up after it slips down her shoulder.

Lady Ynys comes closer and insinuates the ledger onto the edge of the princess's dressing-table. From inside the cover she extracts a sheet of parchment upon which her bold and generous hand has, indeed, inscribed a trio of names. She turns it to face its intended reader. "These three women would, in my estimation," she elaborates quietly, taking a step back into another of her usual postures, "serve you well as Mistress of Keys. Two are widows — the third is yet a wife, though if Prince Torren were to find a place for her husband, I think House Martell's service would suit them both well."

Visenya only gives the names a cursory glance before her attention is back on Ynys. Her smooth brow furrows ever so slightly, and she looks confused. "You are leaving?" She finally says, and there is a look of concern on her face before she asks, "Is all well with your family? Nothing has happened with your children?" She gazes at Ynys with a ponderous look before she stands up from the stool, and begins to pace in front of one of the tower windows.

The elder woman's eyes follow the younger; she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, silks rippling over her long, sleek form as she turns to watch her pace. "My children are all in good health, as far as I know — thank you for asking," she confirms, and smiles faintly. "Still, I think it is time for me to move on. You have made Dorne your home, in these past months. You no longer stand in need of what I brought you in the beginning — you no longer lean upon me as you did, but stand straighter yourself, as you must — and this was never," a wry, apologetic, but not unkind twist of her lips, "how I intended to spend all the rest of those days the gods may grant me."

Visenya stops pacing to give Ynys a look that almost looks hurt. There is a measure of sadness in her dark violet colored eyes, but she schools her face into a rather neutral mask. "Of course." Is all she says, and then she even manages an easy smile that doesn't warm those purple depths. "That makes complete sense. This was never meant to be permanent, after all." She paces a few more rounds before she sits down on the edge of her bed, "Is that all? I'm quite tired."

They have spent time enough together that Lady Ynys, watching closely, can tell false smiles from true. It's been a while since she saw one like that directed at herself — but it's not such a surprise, in this moment. Her own far warmer brown eyes stay trained upon the princess's face; she gives a slow nod of understanding. "Of course," she says gently. "The three women on the list," her head inclines slightly toward where it is still lying atop the ledger, "are all in Starfall at present; I saw that they were invited for the tournament. When you have made your choice from among them, or chosen some other replacement you would prefer, of course I'll stay long enough to ensure the transition is made smoothly. Is there anything else I might attend to for you this evening…?" A traditional request, though her nights of speaking it are now numbered.

"I see." Visenya says, and her smile widens even as her eyes grow all the sadder. "You've planned well for this. If only I'd known sooner." She looks away from Ynys then, and her eyes roll upwards to look at the ceiling. "You need not do that, Lady Ynys. You've already done me a kindness by coming in the first place, and it is clear you wish to get on with your life, so…" She shakes her head, and there is a little quiver to her voice, "No. I don't need anything. Thank you."

"I didn't wish to add to your cares whilst you were recovering from childbed," explains her outgoing Mistress of Keys, still very gently, "or leave you to fend for yourself amongst such a horde of guests. But you're on your feet again and the guests are drifting away, and I think if I were to wait for any better moment…" She hesitates; her smile turns wry again. "I might be waiting a long while. The truth is that right now I have no life to get on with," and she shrugs. "I would like to find one, and I don't believe I can, here. But if you have no objections to my remaining a short while longer, Your Highness," a mild reminder that Princess Visenya's word is the final one, "I would prefer to stay till you have a suitable replacement for me… I know this must have come as a shock, but I hope you understand that I wish nothing but the best for you, and I would not like to leave you vulnerable to domestic difficulties."

"I'm not incompetent, Lady Ynys." Visenya says, and there is a little snippiness to her voice. "I can run the household on my own until a replacement is found. I ran it before you came for several months." Not as efficiently as Ynys, of course. But well enough. "There is no need for a replacement." Perhaps it is because she had a child a month ago, and some women become sullen and sad after giving birth, but the Princess blinks away dampness from her eyes before she says, "I would not want to keep you from your life any longer."

Lady Ynys registers mild surprise. "Of course you could run the household on your own," she agrees easily; "and no one would argue with your right to do so if you wish. I thought only that with a new child, and all the assistance you lend to your husband, you would be justified in feeling you were better employed elsewhere… It is your decision, Your Highness. I will leave it with you." And she bows her head in parting, and finds Princess Visenya's gaze with her own as she lifts it again. "It will look better in the morning," she ventures. "Perhaps we might speak again then. Goodnight, Your Highness."

And though she ignores those nascent tears, rather than embarrass the princess by drawing attention to them, her first thought upon excusing herself is to find Prince Torren and hint heavily that he might like to join his wife.

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