His boots had echoed back to his own ears as he had strode out from the confines of the courtyard, the sound now gratefully muffled as lush grass easily crushed beneath his heels. He always enjoyed the river scenery, found it comforting but never dwelled on why exactly. Edmund glanced about half-heartedly, his firm gaze settling nowhere in particular. He watched a fish leap and twist midair to plummet downwards, it's audible splash blending pleasantly into the water's steady hum. The darkness within his emerald eyesight deepened until they seemed to mold into a bold ebony hue. He wore his burgundy cloak, hood thrown back and his left hand resting casually upon his hip. In some ways, Edmund seemed older than his actual years, with mannerisms much too self-controlled yet if one peered close enough there remained a sharply refined light still present within his eyes as if hidden in there was some secretive, even humorous tidbit of knowledge that only he knew of. The mystery he unknowingly wrapped himself in became a burden at times, his stoicism a hindrance for Lord Edmund was always in speculation, his mind refusing to relax until he was exhausted. There were times, however, in which he fully expected to toss aside such inhibitions and simply live... as he was right now. The corner of his upper lip curled into a tight grin, his right hand ruffling through his thick head of hair.
He felt time slipping by, as if some nagging voice inside him urged him to make something of himself, to do something... but what? He had no idea and that conclusion haunted him incessantly. He vowed to become more than his pitiful father had been, his thoughts giving way to restless steps. His booted feet walked several paces alongside the bank. As he slowly meandered, his right hand rested lightly upon his sword's hilt. Old habits die hard and Edmund had not forgotten the hard lessons learned over a decade ago. His father, drunk though he usually was, did manage to teach his once expert swordsman techniques to his oldest son, resulting in the only beneficial memory Edmund still harbored of him.

Suddenly, as if banishing such grim remembrances from his mind, he waved his hand through the still air before lifting his chin and peering about once more. He wore a solemn face, as if he had just pledged his life away. His eyes though, those mesmerizing dancing flashes of such startling contrasting colors, seemed on fire with current excitement. There was a detectable bolt of lightning that threatened to spill out from him, that undeniable but undefinable aura that begged notice. Lord Edmund may not have any conscious knowledge of thus but his very presence emitted one of undiscovered promise. He continued his careless stroll, enjoying the slight wind that picked up now and turning his face into it.

Constance Ingling, what was she? She was a woman, clearly, she was a woman, but you could never see what was going through her head. She was a hard person to read, clever and cunning. Constance Ingling, the name was recognized by most, but many did not know her as a person. Suree, they knew her by her stormy eyes, and bright blonde hair. The Ingling house had the brighest blonde hair of the Court, or at least, that's what they told themselves. Constance was no exceptance. At the age of nineteen, she was quick, witty, beautiful and ready to throw away everything and anyone in her way to what she wanted. Would you use the word single-minded to describe her? No, you wouldn't, because she could think of so many things at once. Maybe it wasn't that she was skilled at hiding her emotions or feelings, maybe it was because she had too many things running through her head. Too many things, so that she couldn't focus on one. Who knew? She for one, knew that she didn't know.

So here she was, her quiet footsteps, rising and falling on the uneven ground as she walked alongside the river. She should have had an attendent, by all means, she should have. But she was by herself, preferring her solitude. Her eyes, the most expressive part of her body, were strangely blank and her posture relaxed, rather than in the posture that had been drilled into her mind. She wore a pale pink gown, with gold embroidery along the hem, and the sleeves. The light wind was rather biting and cold, so she had on a simple black cloak, the hood pushed back, so that her pinned up hair was exposed to the wind. She fingered the light fringe. It was a fine, simple cloak, one that her mother had given her.

Her mother, oh that brought up fond memories, that did. She was ever so fond of her mother, but her father...he was a different story. He had sent her to the Land of Tartan to woo Prince William. While Constance had somewhat acheived this goal, he had loved her, more like a sister? Not enough to marry her, and so she had been sent to the Sapphire Court, to be requainted with her brother and sister. She hadn't regretted the decisions. Her posture came back to her though, as she noticed another figure. She cast her eyes over the horizon, stopping, and positioning her body towards the sun. She wasn't one to start a conversation.

As Edmund continued his casual pace, his sight paused over the womanly figure who stood nearby. Her blonde curls were partially visible, their vibrant coloring instantly catching his interest. She was dressed well, the pink gown complimeting her nicely. She stood quietly as he tested a friendly smile aimed towards her. Then choosing to close the gap between them, Lord Edmund walked towards her confidently. He dipped his hat, even a slight bow to acknowledge the pretty female he now stood in front of.
"Good day, M'Lady. I am Lord Edmund. I do not believe we have met yet? Tis a pleasure I am sure." Smooth and expertly executed. Of course he had an inkling of who she was but it was always better to be properly introduced at first meeting.
Edmund's smile was genuine, the appreciation cloaked as he watched her reaction to him. She was alone, as was he. Edmund admired females who weren't afraid to leave their attendants behind, be it what is expected or not. He may not ever admit it and he would most assuredly have chastised his own wife or daughter for such boldness (if he had either) but truth be Edmund found it fascinating when one purposely chose to forego the added protection.

His sight was unwavering and yet it wasn't too overly intent. The clouds previously visible in his eyes were absent now and that inner gleam shone outwards, the unspoken promise of adventure. His arms were strong, his long hours of swordsmanship molding him into a nicely muscled man. All in all, he was not one to immediately evoke images of desire but neither was he sore on the eyes. Even as he flashed his charming smile, his gaze spoke volumes of their own, that strange blend of detached coolness and warm familiarity swirled into one dark mystery.

Constance lifted her head to meet the stranger's eyes, her own gaze slightly wary, but still confident and able. She tilted her head to the side, a half smile lingering on her lips, as he introduced himself. She inclined her head after he had finished and swept in a graceful curtsy, albeit not too low. She felt her knee's stiffen. She must have been standing in the same position for quite a while, if her whole leg had grown stiff. Keeping it light, she replied, her own voice having a musical lilt to it, "Lady Constance Ingling. 'Tis a pleasure to meet indeed my lord." she said, the musical lilt coming out quite a bit more.

She kept her eyes on him for a few more moments, and were slightly surprised to see a bit of her own eyes in his. Not in colour, but with the emotion swinging through them, like the monkey's in a jungle. She couldn't detect what was in them, something that did not happen to Constance Ingling. She felt slightly let down, and dissapointed in herself. Well, she wasn't sure if he was a man who appreciated boldness, so she kept her voice light, and womanly, trying to get a feel of the man. She was an amazing adapter, and if he seemed to like bold, she could relax a bit more. Being bold was her specialty.

She was almost the exact opposite of her younger sister Rebecca. While Rebecca was small, and soft spoken, Constance was tall, willowy, and bold. Constance had a figure that many a woman did not have. She was not overly curvy, but she had nice curves, accentuated by her dress. She knew exactly how to dress her looks up, but she wasn't seeking a man interested in what lay beneath her dress. He had to appreciate her wit, her sarcasm, her sometimes biting comments, and her incessant flirting. Her flirting, a whole different topic. She could flirt subtly. The silence had been flung upon them, as she had offered no more words. One might have mistaken her for a quiet, docile woman. If only they looked closer into her eyes.

"May I be so bold, as to ask what such a fine looking gentleman is doing outside by himself?" she paused, the half smile now appearing on her lips once again. "I would've though that many a female would be following, waiting for a minute of your time."

She was not being sarcastic, but there was a teasing edge to her voice. Barely discernable, if you were not paying attention.

Lady Constance Ingling... So Edmund had been correct in his speculation. He knew of her, never having met her personally prior to this day. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her gown blending against her form as if it were her skin itself. She had charisma indeed and a certain confidence about her that was truly intriguing. He liked the sound of her voice, the singsong notes rising and falling into one harmonious melody. He almost wished she would begin to sing, imagining even the songbirds jealous of such fine skill.
His eyes traveled over her, effectively hiding all emotion but open interest. He made sure not to stare but maintained a rigid politeness, finishing his quick appraisal before meeting her gaze with his own. His shadows were present but they were pushed aside for now, his lips always returning to that firm line he too often bore.
He caught the challenge in her question, the dare in her eyes as she delved into his affairs. Edmund grinned, the lines around his mouth vanishing with such amusement. He understood the underlying current he was pretty sure she had within her. She was feeling him out, letting him set the rules. He could overlook the tease, continue their conversation with strict protocol and then depart, never really getting to know one another in the end. Edmund considered this option and would have chosen to pursue it, the safer, more proper channel but that inner gleam he detected brought forth his own formidable spirit.
His eyes narrowed as he obviously feigned disapproval, their emerald sparkle glittering with mischief. "You see Lady Constance, I indeed had such interested women but I fear they jumped into the river upon hearing my attempts to sing." His grin was still in place, testing the waters with her. "I did give fair warning of course." He chuckled, standing alongside her, their striking contrasts so obvious. Where she was soft, he was roughened from years of manual labor. Edmund did not live the cushy life of some Lords in the past several years and his sinewy arms were indication beneath the satin shirt he wore. His raven locks seemed only to highlight the hint of day-old beard stubble. Nevertheless, Edmund continued to talk. "Truly, my Lady, I enjoy the river's lure. How is it that you have escaped the careful keep of your attendant?" His tones were carefully selected but the admiration was audibly there. Edmund did admire the gutsy Lady who threw precaution to the wind even whilst he resolved to ensure she would safely return to the confines of the courtyard

Constance laughed, a truly musical laugh, one that rose above the waves, though not annoyingly so. She laughed slightly, and a full smile came to her full pink lips, before she detached her eyes from him and stared over the water. She was about to make a comment about his singing could not be that bad, but that they probably had wanted a swim, but before she opened her mouth, he continued talking, and she stopped patiently, to listen to him speak, her smile fading slightly to a half grin. "Escape my attendents?" here she let out a dramatic sigh. "Jamie fears that I might get myself into trouble. Really, my lord, what kind of trouble could I get in?" She wanted to add: Little old innocent Constance? but she held back. She would be courteous and learn to still her tongue.

She feared that it would not be long though, before she slipped, and something offending came out of her mouth. Whatever the case though, he seemed like a nice man, handsome, and had muscles, clearly from physical work. She liked that in a man. She preferred them to be muscled, not doughy, like the bread they ate. She found that those men were usually pompous and not the men she should be spending her time with them.

She liked the men she talked to, to have a personality, and wit, and the ability to keep her on her toes. If they couldn't they were gone as quick as they had came. As her gaze fell back on him, she noticed the colour of his eyes. Green. What a colour it was as well, vivid, but dark, and swirling. Whereas hers were blue-gray, dark and swirling.

Edmund heard the extra degree of drama her sigh emitted, as if exasperation were standing alongside them. He watched her speak, figuring Jamie must be the missing attendant. He was unable to clearly decipher whether or not her question held any truth to it. Has she really wondered what dangers lurked within the countryside? Had he overestimated her confident appearance and missed the naivete altogether? Unsure how to respond initially, Edmund's gaze narrowed slightly, meeting her similar depths. He had never seen a female with such eyes. It wasn't their color or the long lashes surrounding them but the fact that they seemed to have a life of their own. Their hue revolving, moving, dancing. Lord Edmund felt as if she was probing him for some answer he didn't have to give. He knew some of the bolder ladies expressed frustration, even outright boredom in the matters of court but Lady Constance didn't strike Edmund as one to ever be bored. Restless was more like it. Her eyes seemed restless to him, as if they were searching, always searching.

His mouth in a thinned line, he quietly rumbled a "Hmmm" sound. His previous air of humor was absent now. Edmund looked to be contemplating a moment before he replied. "My Lady Constance, I know not of your intended wishes for such unattended visit here but I do encourage you to seek the company of your attendant at least during such time." His glance to her held, and he almost became fatherly before that mischief broke out once more and his forehead crinkled with laugh lines. They somehow added to his charm while his hand elaborately spread before her, his cloak flowing to one side as his arm moved. "However," he said, "since I am already present, perhaps you may grant me the pleasure of your lovely company instead?" Lord Edmund was chivalrous by nature and he could not leave an unattended Lady without at least offering his presence. Plus she was a very captivating Lady. Her beauty was stunning and the hint of independence he saw in her was one he could identify with.

Constance could laugh, at the expression that was clearly plastered on his face. Confoundment, and perhaps disbelief that she would be so naive. But then again, her voice had been surprisingly calm as if she was telling the truth. That might have had to do with the fact that she was an accomplished liar, and lies slipped off her tongue easily. But she was also painfully truthful. She was an honest person, but she could lie, in good fun, or to protect someone. If she had one fault, it was that, though she did not show it, she cared too easily. If an aquaintance had fallen ill, or had passed, she showed as much greif as if they had been the closest of friends. She was easily affected by her emotions, and sometimes, she was reckless to the point of destruction. Rowland had tried to tie her down, to make her quieter, to make her like Rebecca, but Constance refused to have any of it. If God willed her to self destruct, then she would.

"Do not fear for me my lord. You must have many other women on your mind, a handsome man as yourself." replied Constance. His voice had changed, into a fatherly way. Constance did not particularly like her father. She loved him, as a daughter would, but other affection...were not present. Her father, was a determined man. Determined to make the Ingling name a name to be remembered. Constance reminded herself, she was a pawn in this game. "I'm sure that I would be safer in present company, than in any other." she added, her voice quiet, but still musical. "What brought you to court my lord?"

Edmund watched her as she brushed aside his concern. He wasn't sure whether to disbute the remark about other women, knowing that if he did so he would only be telling half the truth. Edmund did actually have another woman on his mind but he was also borne of flesh and couldn't deny Lady Constance's very attractive presence. Instead, the lord merely mused, his glance settling onto her golden hair, enjoying the sunlight glinting off from it.
As she spoke again, the melodious tones teased Edmund, his ears straining to hear her suddenly just erupt into song. Chiding himself for such foolery, his mouth set grimly as her final question was heard. Why had he come to court? he pondered, instantly knowing it was to make something of himself. He had set off to prove his name honorable, to seek a position in which his father's tainted past would simply fade away. Mayhaps it was partly due to such ghosts that haunted him still, memories too vivid to let go. Edmund had decided with respect came acceptance, and no matter what his future held in store, the minor lord had already pledged to find that way of life. As of late though, he had other thoughts creep in...thoughts that left him feeling oddly out of sorts but unable to turn away. How did one convey such perplexing emotion? Edmund didn't know nor was he comfortable attempting to, especially to a beautiful lady as the one standing in front of him.

His shoulders heaved a sigh of bygone era, his sight focusing beyond Constance as he reduced his rampant thoughts to one line; "It was time Lady Constance."
Edmund had a weary look in his eyes, tired of running from a past he feared would someday catch up. He had better think of another reason to satisfy the quick wit of this lady but Edmund wasn't one who lied well. He was an honest man, with eyes that spoke for him as he refused to meet her gaze.
The river's current had picked up speed, its rush louder now. It was this sound he concentrated on, the unforgiving waters' heady rush. The hint of approaching storm lay in the river's wrath. Edmund stretched discreetly, flashing a smile as he extended his arm. "Would my lady care for a stroll?" He hadn't asked her why she had come to court, for the reasons were fairly obvious he concluded. Nearly all females came seeking a husband. Edmund's manner was quieter as he continued speaking, "If we walk ahead just a short distance, we may be able to tell how soon this brewing summer storm is due. That is, if it would pleasure M'Lady.." Trailing off, he regarded her with curiosity. She hadn't mentioned wishing to head back just yet. Edmund figured a walk would do them both some good. Perhaps it could ease her restless feeling he had thought he detected earlier, and it would definitely help clear his head as well.