Taurin then spent weeks engaging in what she called ‘courting.’ Nilda knew what courting meant, it just felt incredibly stupid to have to do it to someone you were technically engaged with.
“It’s for show,” Taurin explained to her numerous times with a sigh. “And it’s not a bad thing to want to know more about someone I’ll spend the rest of my life with.”
“And what if you hate him? Then you’ll go into the marriage knowing that,” Nilda retorted. They usually had this conversation while she was fixing up her hair; she had to resist tugging on the smooth dark brown strands in frustration. Taurin could be spending this time on her projects or with her father.
“And what if I don’t hate him?” Taurin asked softly. “That would probably make me very happy indeed.”
Judging from the way they talked and laughed out on the patio at Taurin’s favorite cafe, It’s quite possible that the noblewoman didn’t hate him. Nilda watched her mistress laugh, the sunlight glinting off her shiny hair, her face flushed and happy.
Her gaze went over to the Solaris, his hair positively aflame with the sunlight. He had managed to trim down his beard and looked to be nearing his thirties in age. His eyes crinkled when he smiled at Taurin. At one point Taurin took his large hand into hers and they stayed sitting like that, hands clasped.
Nilda shifted her gaze away uncomfortably. She had to stand near the entrance of the patio alongside Rask, the usual spot for the serving class.
“So, would you still be Lady Leton’s handmaid if she ever comes to Caelis?” Rask asked after a long stretch of awkward silence between them. Nilda gave him a sidelong look.
The captain had been trying to make smalltalk when Taurin went on her dates with the Solaris, usually about the weather. Nilda only ever gave him single word responses. She had no idea what his intentions were in trying to be friendly with her, especially after he’d called her a moron to her face. “Depends. Would I have to spend all my time standing next to you like this for the rest of my life?” she finally replied.
“By the moon, I’m just trying to make conversation,” Rask muttered. Nilda stole a glance at him at the corner of her eye and was pleased to see an annoyed expression on his rugged features. The Heart of Gaia often had an unforgiving amount of sunlight and Rask's face and hands had tanned during their time here.
“And why would you do that?” Nilda asked.
“I’m not sure what I did to warrant your dislike of me, but whatever it is, I apologize,” he said, his voice terse.
“Why would you think I dislike you?”
“Because you either give me single word responses or answer my questions with another question.”
“What’s wrong with my questions?”
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He glared at her. “You’re doing it purposely.”
“Weren’t we trying to make conversation?” She gave him a mocking smile. His lips thinned and he stopped trying to talk to her for the rest of Taurin’s date.
Good. Nilda didn’t care if the Solaris was akin to a king, she didn’t trust people who wanted something from Taurin. Many women from the college pretend to be Taurin’s friend, inviting her to parties because of who her father is. The moment their friendship is no longer advantageous, they stop talking to her. Taurin acted like it was normal, but it made Nilda fume.
She knew what it felt like to be discarded after being used. What would the Solaris do after the marriage no longer benefited him?
Nilda watched the couple laugh at something else while their hands remained clasped together. She held no misconceptions with her or Taurin’s position in society. Years of walking bowed by her mistress’s side had engraved the fact in her brain. But even so, she never once lost the desire, the burning purpose to keep Taurin safe.
Every time she thought of her purpose, Nilda always returned to Vartu. It was where it all began, where she started learning instead of enduring. When Nilda returned to the Leton residence, she found that Vartu wasn’t at his usual stations. The guards men all gave disinterested shrugs at her pointed questions, all assuming he was on some assignment. Nilda decided to see if Lord Leton was in his office and ask.
She heard the muffled voices paces away from the door. Loud voices edged with rage. She froze, straining her ears when she recognized Vartu’s voice as one of them. The thick walls to give Lord Leton privacy didn’t let her hear exactly what they were saying. Softening the stone under her feet to dampen the sound of her steps, she crept closer and tried to listen but the voices within suddenly fell silent.
The office door slammed open and Vartu stormed out. Nilda couldn’t help staring at the duel master - she had never seen him look so disheveled, so agitated. His usually groomed dark hair in disarray, his tunic hanging open, untied and without a buckle. He normally greeted her with a cocky grin as if he was expecting her, but this time his eyes were almost wild when he saw her.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded from her. He advanced towards her, his hands reaching out as if to grab her but she recoiled from him.
“Vartu?”
He saw the expression on her face, really saw it, and he seemed to deflate. Retreating, he passed a hand over his face and glanced at her with eyes too wide. “I-I’m sorry, kid,” he said, sounding nothing like the Vartu she knew. “I’m sorry.”
Then he fled.
Nilda stayed in the hallway for a long time. Lord Leton’s office door was opened and she could see him standing by the window, cigarette streaming smoke from his fingers. His back was turned to her with the outline of his stance looking tense. Not once did he turn to look at her even when she was sure he would have heard everything through the open door.
The days stretched into weeks. The Leton household stopped talking about Vartu altogether - in their usual frustrating and round-about way, the house steward and servants explained that Vartu was no longer the duel-master, nor even associated with the Leton household.
At one point, Nilda mustered up the courage to ask Lord Leton what happened with Vartu. The master, looking grayer than ever, calmly lit another cigarette before studying Nilda’s face.
“I’m sorry, Nilda,” he finally said. “But you’re going to have to get used to people coming and going. That’s simply the way life is.”
Nilda wished she could say more, ask more, wring the answers out of her lord. At the very least, she wanted to know why he looked so Parts-damned sad ever since Vartu stormed out of his office. But she wasn’t Lord Leton’s daughter as much as she felt like his child. So despite her every instinct to screw the nobility and the way it’s ‘supposed to be’, she kept her mouth shut and let the questions dwell.