Kinds of People

Writers: Eimi, Yvonne
Date Posted: 16th February 2006

Characters: Penryn, Thalia
Description: Penryn brings Thalia a copy of Aswic's will, and when he discovers that she has begun sewing her own clothing he and Thalia discover a difference between their 'kinds' of people
Location: Garnet Valley Hold
Date: month 10, day 2 of Turn 3

A bolt of thickly woven wool.. something saved for a rainy day, bought when Aswic was still alive. Thalia smoothed the pieces across her lap and bit her lip. It was dyed an earthy, warm pink, the colour of sunsets and the skin of ripe peaches. Aswic had said the colour flattered her skin and brought colour to her cheeks. **He wasn't even looking at me when he said it...** She'd gone with him to inspect a wagonload of goods come in from one of the smaller Holdings, and when she'd asked for it he'd given it to her.

Thalia picked up her needle once more. The wool was difficult to sew, but she was her mother's daughter. And the winter was cold, and she's snagged another woolen overdress only days earlier. With her limited resources there was no choice but to sew it herself. The embarrassment of it pricked at her worse than the pricking of her needle against her careless fingers.

Penryn had been digging through the records and had found the paper discussion the Lady Holder's inheritance. He figured that since Lady Thalia had asked him about it, he should hate it to her to show her. The steward knocked gently on her door and waited patiently for an answer.

Thalia swore beneath her breath as she jumped and pricked her finer on the needle. She quickly stuck her finger in her mouth so that she wouldn't bleed on the precious wool and stuffed her project into her sewing basket. It didn't quite all fit, so she kicked the basket out of sight behind her chair before rising to greet whoever was bothering her. "Penryn!" She opened her eyes wide in surprise when she saw who was waiting. "This is unexpected. Is everything all right?"

Penryn had heard the small commotion his arrival had caused and he glanced around the room a bit before answering. "Yes, m'lady. I'm sorry, I hope I wasn't disturbing you. I just found the papers concerning your inheritance."

"You did?" Thalia glanced out along the hall; it was empty but she quickly ushered Penryn into her rooms anyway. It wouldn't do for anyone to find out... she smiled a little sheepishly after she shut the door behind him. "I'd offer you something - tea, water... but the tea's gone cold. If you like I can call for more?"

"Water if that's ok," he said, absently picking up the spool of thread that had rolled across the floor. "Did I interrupt your sewing?"

"No! No, not at all. Umm.. embroidery." Thalia held her hand out for the spool of thread. Clumsy of her. He frowned slightly as he looked down at her hand, specifically her pricked finger. "Perhaps you should put a bandage on that before you take the spool."

"Oh! I'm fine." Thalia brought her finger to her lips to lick away the bead of blood before remembering that it wasn't very polite... and searched her pockets for a handkerchief. "You startled me when you knocked, that's all."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. Here, why don't I put this back for you," he said looking around her chair for the sewing basket.

"That's all right!" Thalia said quickly. She held out her hand again.

"I can do it. You didn't come here tidy up after me."

"Lady Thalia, is everything all right?" She was acting rather...
guilty.

"Of course!" Her voice sounded brittle, even to her own ears. Penryn was making her nervous and she looked around for an escape. "Um - water! You wanted water. Please- sit, and I'll pour you a glass."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, setting the spool down on a near-bye table. The steward could tell there was _something_ going on, but he wouldn't dare pry into the Lady's business. She would tell him if he needed to know. Of that he was sure.

The hostess ritual calmed her by its very familiarity, and Thalia found herself finding her equilibrium again as she poured water into two glasses. Perhaps it wasn't as cold as it could have been, but it would do. She turned with a glass in each hand and a smile on her face, and handed one to Penryn before sitting demurely across from him, her hands folded in her lap. "You said that you found papers outlining my- inheritance?" she asked, slightly breathlessly. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe Aswic had left her more than Penryn had originally thought...

He handed her the hides. "Yes, here you go. This is the inheritance you have." He pointed to the figure in the middle of the page. And this is the dispersal schedule," he pointed to the paragraph below it. "You have a bit more than I originally thought."

Relief flooded through Thalia like a breath of fresh air and she slumped back against her chair with a smile on her face. "Thank goodness. It's not much, but- oh Penryn, I could kiss you!"

The steward laughed. "Well, thank you Lady Thalia. But I think I can take just your saying so as proof of your gratitude."

So what if it was improper... Thalia felt giddy with relief and about ready to burst with laughter. She leaned across the gap between them and planted a kiss on Penryn's cheek anyway before sitting back down again with a cheeky smile. "You're a wonderful, wonderful man! I know it isn't much more, but it means that I can hire- ah, it just makes things easier."

"Well," he said clearing his throat, "I'm glad I could bring you good news."

"Me too," she said, then sobered. "But you still can't tell anyone.
Please."

"Of course," he nodded. "I won't say a word."

"Thank you." Thalia picked up her glass and took a demure sip, suddenly shy after her outburst. But she had _marks_ now... she wouldn't be quite as much of an embarrassment to Aslian. But she still wasn't well off. Penryn smiled and took a sip of his own water. As he lower the glass, his eyes lowered as well. His attention was caught by the corner of a piece of cloth peeking out from under the chair. "That's an interesting color."

"What?" Thalia followed his gaze and was mortified to see that she hadn't hidden her project as well as she thought she had. "Um. Yes.
Aswic bought the wool for me. Although I don't think it's _quite_ your shade... how are your new clothes working out for you, by the way?"

"They fit fine, thank you." He nodded down towards the cloth on the floor. "Are you making something, then?"

Thalia flushed a bright crimson. "No..."

Penryn smiled when he looked up into her glowing face. "Ah, well, let me see." He reached down and tugged on the cloth. "I just want to admire your _embroidery_..."

"Wait! Don't- ..." Thalia sat back, thoroughly embarrassed, as Penryn tugged the corner of the fabric and her sewing basket tipped over. There was no embroidery to be found, only panels for the overdress she was making. "Either you're using very _fine_ embroidery thread, or, you're _sewing_..." He couldn't help but tease her, despite the fact that his entire upbringing had engrained the fact that those of the Blood were to be treated at all times with the utmost respect. "Fine! I'm _sewing_." Thalia crossed her arms and wouldn't look at the Steward. "I'm poor. You don't need to rub it in."

"What?" Penryn asked shocked, and rather ashamed. It seemed as though his teasing had hit home harder than he had ever imagined it would. He reached over to lay his hand on her arm. "No, Lady Thalia. No, you are anything but _poor_."

"Don't bother to sugar the truth - I _am_ poor. I am a Lord Holder's daughter, and I was a Lord Holder's wife. And now I'm reduced to- to sewing my own clothing!" Thalia still wouldn't look at him. "Everyone knows it. I'm all but a pauper."

The steward felt a stab of unexpected anger at her childishness. "Poor? You're not poor. You have never been poor a day in your life!

There are people out there who barely have food for their table and have never had a new stitch of clothing in their lives. You have enough wealth to keep you in luxury for well over a turn and then a good enough family name and political ties to marry again and insure luxury the rest of your life! What do you know of being _poor_, Thalia?"

His eyes flew open wide and his face drained of color. What did he think he was doing?! He had just yelled at the Lady Holder! "Oh, m'lady, I am so deeply sorry. I..."

"No, you're right. Not only am I poor, but I'm ungrateful as well!"
Thalia snapped. "You don't understand - unlike your people who don't live a 'luxurious' life, everyone is _watching_ me. People judge me on how I look, and how I act, and has anyone asked _me_ if I want to be bought and sold like a- like a herdbeast at a Gather? I'm _nothing_ without marks, and I'm _nothing_ without a husband."

"Forgive me, Lady Thalia," he said quietly, withdrawing his hand and looking down into his glass. "I should not have said anything." He set the glass on the near-by stand and rose to his feet. "I have obviously disturbed you. I'd best leave you to your days work and get back to my own. Thank you for the drink."

"Do you have any idea what it's like to overhear your father discussing you in economic terms, rather than as a daughter?" Thalia asked quietly. She picked up the papers Penryn had brought her and began to slowly flip through them. "There are standards that I have to live up to, and if I don't... that's not an option. I have no useful skills beyond running a Hold, and even if I did I have my son to think about. I can't scrimp and save - your 'luxury' is my ticket into another marriage, which I can't afford to turn down, no matter my personal feelings on the subject. I have to remarry for Aslian, and to do so I have to look and live a certain way. Maybe I'm not poor in the way that you see as poor, but my freedom is measured in marks, not days."

"I really should go, Lady Thalia," Penryn said quietly. There was more that he wanted to say, but it was very obvious there was a distinction between his kind of people and hers, and there were things it was improper for his kind of people to say. "Thank you again for the water, m'lady."

He didn't understand, and it made Thalia feel lonelier than ever. She looked at the will in her hands and wished he'd never found it. "Thank you for bringing these to me. It was very thoughtful of you."

"Of course, m'lady. I am always at your service." He gave her a respectful bow and turned to leave. It was strange that the realization that he could never belong in her world hurt a bit, but he had to accept that even in friendship, she would always outrank him.

Last updated on the February 17th 2006

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Kinds of People