Arne didn't have much of an interest in sitting down and chatting further. He didn't particularly care for wine and he hadn't quite finished with what he was set out to do that day.
To Irene's surprise, he seed almost well-trained as he excused himself, even speaking directly to the Duke. He truly was a good heir when he put his mind to it, but it was hard to get rid of the Sunstoian wildness.
"I got a deer and I'm going to deal with it out back," Arne explained. "Enjoy yourselves. It was nice to et you, Commander."
Henry smiled at that. Calling him Commander was a stubborn thing knights did to express how they valued him and he didn't mind it. Perhaps Arne had a future as a knight even if he joined in a different thod than as a squire or apprentice. It also caused him to wonder how Irene and her father referred to him.
"It was nice to et you as well, Arne," the Duke responded.
With that, Arne was on his way. The group was a bit less talkative since it was later in the evening. Irene didn't want the night to end because she knew she would stay with her parents and Henry would have to leave. Rather than cutting off the night, she decided to talk.
"This one is quite good," Irene observed as she sipped the cool drink. "It must have co right from the cellar. It's so cold."
To prove her point, she lifted the chalice and pressed it against her cheek.
"We've been enjoying it all sumr," Rochelle explained. "It was a recomndation by Earl Auden's wife over the Winter Solstice. I do think I will return to sothing warr once the weather cools down."
Henry mused over his drink for a mont. It was good, but it felt like it was too refined for soone like him despite what his title might say.
"The first ti I ever drank wine was in the palace," he admitted. "It is less common in the peasant village because it takes more care than ale and ages for far longer."
"The wine in the palace must be high quality," Rochelle comnted.
"I imagine it was," Henry admitted. "But all it gave was a terrible headache the following day."
At that, even Arthur let out a light laugh, rough because of how much he had been coughing that day. Despite the fact that he visibly looked sick, he was in high spirits to have the Duke in his ho. The last Duke hadn't ever ventured to his lands—he was old by the ti Arthur was lorded anyway.
However, Arthur also couldn't deny any longer that this much was exhausting as he was trying to recover.
"As much as I would like to stay up," he rasped out, "it's ti for to retire for the evening."
That in itself made Irene's heart crack a little bit more. Her father was the one who usually forced everyone else to stay up past their ans. That was how she rembered him growing up. These changes were difficult to accept even though they were inevitable.
"Goodnight, dad," Irene responded and she quickly stood up so that she could hug her father.
The awful thought that she didn't know how many hugs she had left from him was ever present in her thoughts. She tried not to let it show in her face or actions.
"Goodnight, my lord," Henry was the next to bid.
"I'll retire as well," Rochelle insisted. "I ought to help Arthur to bed."
At that, Henry was the one who stood up.
"Please, allow ," Henry said. "I'm sure you've done enough of this the past couple of days."
Before Rochelle could answer with her appreciation, Arthur responded, "Don't get used to it."
The others in the room smiled despite the feelings lingering over all of them.
When Arthur and Henry were down the hall and attempting to move up the stairs, Irene finished the last of what was in her glass before pushing it away from herself.
Rochelle had already finished hers and she was eyeing her daughter, ruminating over the dinner that evening.
"He really loves you," Rochelle realized. "How soone so rough can be so gentle… I'm shocked to admit I find that quite suitable for my daughter who is also rough yet handled as delicately as glass."
Irene's lips pressed together. She had been bracing for a more harsh comnt, but she felt relief that one never ca. Instead, her face was feeling hot.
"I suppose you and father were right," Irene admitted. "I couldn't believe it. Sotis I still can't."
"Why couldn't you?" Rochelle wondered. "You have grown into a beautiful woman. You have quite a few fans in the noble circles of young won who wished they carved the sa path as you, but it takes a lot of bravery. I'm sure your unwillingness to be anything but yourself was what drew him to you."
Irene felt it was a complint as much as it wasn't. Her mother was the one who always said that she wouldn't find love in a knighthood and especially not if she kept being so boyish.
It was a bit bittersweet to feel she had gained approval because of soone who was interested in her and nothing she had done.
"That's surprising," Irene finally answered. "All because of Henry. I suppose I should be grateful."
"That isn't…" Rochelle didn't know how to rectify her words because that is what it did sound like she was implying. "Although unconventional, it's impressive that you have carved a path for yourself." But then Rochelle pressed her hand against the table as she stood up. "I suppose I ought to check on the maids and make sure they aren't lacking hands at the mont considering how last minute we conjured up this al. Goodnight, Irene. Please walk His Grace out for ."
"Yes, mother," Irene responded. "Goodnight."
It wasn't long until Henry ca down the stairs and walked down the hallway that led to the family's dining room.
Irene had already gotten up from where she was sitting before and she greeted him by gently grasping his hand. Her smile seed faintly relieved to see him. He couldn't help wondering what her and her mother had discussed.
He genuinely hoped he would one day not have to worry about what Rochelle was saying to Irene.
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