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3.6

3.6

Jewel felt craven.

She had been avoiding her parents whenever possible. Not so much as to be inappropriate of course. She attended the meals to break fast and also the evening supper.

But every excuse or responsibility that could draw her away or distract her?

No one was at the work site for her manor house.

The vaults of most of the rooms had been raised and set with their proper arches. But until all of them were finished and the last touches of the peripheral chambers were done, there was little point to move into the space.

Yet Jewel was here to inspect after conferring once again that Adorján knew of no family that needed her aide this fall.

The children did not need seeing to, as all the women were either working on labors that could watch them or their small hands were needed to aid their elders. There was no concern of fuel for winter.

There was nothing for Jewel to be doing here.

But she came anyway to get away from the stinging pain she felt every time she saw her parents.

A familiar scent slid into Jewel’s mouth.

She knew who was walking up the road wrapped in a winter cloak and riding leathers already but the scent confirmed it.

When they were close enough for a civil amount of volume Jewel voiced her surprise.

“Muriel? What are you doing in Valasect? The manor won’t be ready until Harrow at earliest. And we will still be settling upon the guard who will join from Rochford til then?”

Jewel’s soon to be captain of her footmen walked up to her lady, gesturing for Jewel to lower her head to listen closely.

Perplexed at the conspiratorial gesture when they were the only listeners of consequence for almost a quarter mile at closest! Still, the Wyrm lowered her head to listen. It must be important if-

The solid fist fist struck as hard as the martial woman could possibly manage directly into Jewel’s ear.

Unbraced with her flame she might have been, but the pain was still mild. The thunderous deafening noise of it and the sheer audacious shock threw Jewel so off balance she toppled to the ground with a thunderous crash and a highly undignified warbling squawk.

The words that followed were bellowed harsher than Jewel had ever heard Murial speak. Not even when giving Alexander drills in sword or forcing him to run at march.

“You absolute knave of a girl! You fool-headed addle-wited oversized newt of a whelp!”

The words kept Jewel down in their viciousness and complete surprise.

Her wings flared awkwardly and neck clenched in tight curves, even while she found herself cowering into the dirt and mud that had been made of the land around her soon to be home.

“I had my doubts before but no, you truly are the very image of a spoiled girl precisely your own age!”

Jewel felt something strangely warm building in her flame at the words. It was spat with vitriol, literally spat right in Jewel’s face. But a sudden closing of one of the ever mounting and painful barriers between Jewel and her family felt healed in spite of the sting and shame.

“You’ve set both your parents to a near panic, you know? Ever the dutiful and obedient daughter they have no idea what to do. They are beside themselves and terrified that you will never speak to them again.”

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Jewel found a tiny, frightened voice to argue.

“I have spoken to them.”

Muriel, her captain to be, scowls down at Jewel and a very familiar tremor of fear her once Governess could instill fills Jewel.

“The barest minimum of courtesy twice a day at obligatory meals is not speaking, Jewel.”

And to that Jewel could not deny, she had been craven, cowardly, and for no good reason.

The woman gave a sigh as she settled into a squat. Jewel could hear more than the leather creaking and straining from the motion.

“So yes, they are worried about you Jewel. They don’t understand. They never imagined their perfect daughter could have a tantrum on them.”

Jewel brought her head up a bit this time with the tightened curve in her neck. Pushed off a bit from the ground.

“It-it’s not a Tantrum!”

Jewel’s snarling face and vicious rumbling in her throat did not even phase the woman still squatting before her, glancing up with a raised brow.

“Girl, I have taught you and your brother since before he could walk. I know a tantrum when I see it. So what was it that finally broke the perfect shining wyrm of Viznove and let through the young lady just shy of fifteen winters at last?”

The tone was irreverent, but calm; it had become soft and gentle.

Patience settled in as the woman whose hair had far more gray then Jewel could remember from her own youth.

She was not even the slightest afraid of Jewel. She had been calm and collected as always even as a Wyrm easily six times her height in length, snarled and reared back.

The eyes that looked back at Jewel did not see a beast.

Just a tantruming girl.

A girl and a lady of fourteen summers.

Jewel for the second time in so many hours was brought to the ground by the woman before her.

Collapsing entirely.

There were tears in her eyes as she rumbled out, lacking the composure to gentle her throat.

“It’s so stupid and cowardly.”

Muriel for her part just nodded, shifting back to plant her ass in the cold dirt and then stretch out a leg to either side. Propping herself up with a hand to either side as she nodded. Jewel had never seen her Governess sit with so little grace or poise.

“It always is, but we all have these moments eventually. Now can you tell me what’s upset you so much my Lady? Your squire is a noble and loyal one and has not shared a word.”

Jewel huffed at that. But was also pleased enough to chuckle on hearing that Smithson had held to her confidence as he should.

That was a very good squire and friend.

But then Jewel marshaled herself and took the first step from cowardice to bravery.

It felt like dragging a lodestone hooked in spines from her own heart and out of her throat.

But the words came.

Slowly.

And Muriel Listened.