[Laiudanama]

Trystan had been taken in by Saeryn’s advances, her almost flattering if confusing attentions to him and for a moment he had thought – fool! – that maybe her motives could be innocent. Fool! Could ever a woman be straight in her affections? Apparently not: for she too had been playing with him, it seemed, building him up just so that her Lord could knock him down – and in so humiliating a fashion.

Eodwine stormed off, then swung around with a scornful eyebrow raised to check that Trystan had followed. The boy met his gaze with an impassive, neutral expression. Truly, short though their exchange had been, Saeryn had not made Eodwine out to be a cruel or unreasonable man, and the words of the server, Kara, floated to the surface of his mind. Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite!” So why did Trystan see, and even tangibly feel, such dislike radiating off the man towards him.

Suddenly it came to him, a thought so delicious that it almost made him smile, although he kept his expression carefully solemn. The Lord and Lady of the Hall, those were the titles addressed to the pair; and from Eodwine’s body language towards Saeryn, even as he tried to appear aloof and distant, quite the master, there could be found something in that pairing. A couple, of sorts? Could it be? But then, why had Saeryn adopted such a sweet manner towards him? No matter: Trystan would not be seen to bow or scrape before any man, and surely this Lord Eodwine could not find any lower task to bestow upon him, so a little small revenge would not go amiss if impeccably timed now…

Turning to Saeryn just as Eodwine turned back towards him, Trystan took her delicate hand carefully and, in an exaggerated, courtly motion, leant and kissed it, his lips softly brushing her smooth skin. Amusement played in his eyes as he straightened to face Saeryn again: he was well aware of the how ridiculous so courtly an action was from one about to be forced into labour in the privies. But so solemn was the rest of his demeanour that Saeryn could not help but laugh, her free hand coming to her mouth as the gentle sound rippled from her lips. Inside, Trystan threw back his head and laughed: it was exactly the reaction he had hoped for, and, although he refrained from looking immediately, he knew it was bound to have had the desired effect on Eodwine too. Remaining serious, he inclined his head to Saeryn. “My Lady, I must take my leave: there is, I believe, a desperate situation awaiting my attentions.”

Saeryn shook her head, still smiling, and he finally yielded a grin himself, turning towards the door quickly to follow Eodwine – although he did not immediately let go of Saeryn’s hand, his rough fingers caressing her skin just slightly before he let go. He did not much care at this moment in which direction her affections leant – he had exacted a small, satisfying amount of revenge against Eodwine, and for the moment, that was all that mattered. He had not intended to hang around, he had not intended to make enemies – and certainly, the latter still very much stood, he had no wish to provoke enemies or make trouble unnecessarily. But he would not be humiliated: Trystan was not the sort to take undeserved punishment lying down. Who is smiling now, my Lord? he thought, mischieviously.