Adrian’s letter had been ushered in to Edmund immediately, the messenger still out of breath as he was pushed towards Pemberton’s duke. The man had stumbled his way through the accompanying message, nervous as he watched his ruler read the parchment with furrowed brows. Edmund had glanced up, said only, “Tell him I’m on my way” and had quietly barked out the necessary orders. There was no hesitation, no single doubt as he had literally dropped everything and headed out. With a quick kiss to Catalina’s cheek and a brief moment of losing himself in the dark depths of her eyes he had simply smiled and departed. She knew he loved her. One of these days he would actually tell her.

Now as his fiery thoroughbred pounded across Pemberton’s terrain, Edmund felt the layers melt away. He was as if he’d been years ago, that meandering lord who had traveled where the wild flowers grew. Edmund smiled at the memories there, even imaging his faithful crow. The aged bird rarely traveled with him now, preferring the comforts of a warm perch and supplied food. Time eventually claimed us all, Edmund thought as he patted the steed’s thickly muscled neck. “And you, my friend, will someday feel its affects as well,” he murmured into the breeze. The horse snorted in response, their having finally reached a truce of sorts. He would never be another Jethro, the old draft cross that Edmund had been so fond of, but both animal and master accepted one another well enough.

The countryside blurred by for the most part, the duke and his accompanying men maintaining a quick pace. Their rests were adequate, early rising and little waste spent moving on. The horses blew their breaths through nostrils intent on seeking what destination would come. And so it was that they arrived in due time into Llyn itself. Edmund watched with interest the peoples of the marquesate and their contented, respectful nods. His guards and servants spread around him, the rich colors of Pemberton’s flag being proudly displayed as the entourage made their way to the front of Adrian’s manor. There a flag bearer stepped forth, announcing the duke of Pemberton.

Edmund dismounted, his horse taken by a stable boy. A few guards followed but he dismissed them, not wanting any extra ears the chance to eavesdrop whatever it was Adrian wanted to discuss. Edmund had debated the reason for this but each thought was shrugged aside. He simply had no idea.
Now facing the doors to Adrian’s own personal chambers, he waited patiently as the attendant tucked inside to inform the marquess of the duke’s arrival.

Adrian sipped on a pewter cup filled with warm cider. It was his new addiction. He glanced outside the window. It was going to rain today. He opened a latch and pushed it open a little. The seas were unsteady aswell. He shook his head. Tonight was going to rainy. Oh well, atleast he would be able to sleep with the lullaby of the rain. Then his attendant came in and informed him of the Dukes arrival, Adrian shut the window and turned around to the man. He simply nodded and sat down. Roger went back outside.

He will see you now, Your Grace."

Roger walked ahead of Edmund, and stood himself next to the serving cabinet. He would stay there as long as Adrian permitted him. There was already a cup sitting out for Edmund, filled with Whiskey, he had just recieved a shipment from Kjentland. It was something he drank only on a night when it was hard to sleep.

"Hello, Edmund. Please, take a seat. Rest for a moment."

Adrian smiled, his emerald eyes glinting in mischief. He had all the energy and playfulness that a man of his age should have. However, he hadn't expected Edmund to come this fast. It was insanity. He looked to Roger.

"Make sure the Messenger is fed, hydrated, and rested. He deserves a long sleep."

Roger nodded and walked from the room, closing the door behind him. Adrian set down his cup and glanced at his pipe, open in it's case. He wouldn't smoke it now. Not today anyways. He only smoked when he needed calming.

"You know, my friend. A man of your age sgouldn't be riding that hard, even if it is on a young horse."

He chuckled, leaning back in his mahogany chair. One of the things he had rescued from his father's estate in Harleston before he left. He picked up the cup and drank from it, placing it down again.

"I'll let you catch up with yourself before I ask a favor of you."

“Adrian,” Edmund greeted as he entered, slapping his riding gloves together. He had worn a cloak, the emblem of Pemberton stitched expertly across the back. It was amongst the touches of luxury he permitted himself now, having grown accustomed to the wealth that came along with dukedom. Still, he was quite reserved compared to others of his standing and always aware that there were many less fortunate.
His eyes strayed to the whiskey set out discreetly. It was no secret anymore between the duke and his closest friends. He drank more than he ate, more than was healthy for a man but he composed himself well. His strides brought him to the cup, the pull there defiantly stronger than any mental resolve and he drank three long gulps. The familiar burn as the liquid slid down his throat and then the complete stirring within his blood as it satisfied the body. He smiled as the marquess spoke, settling down into a seat as he watched the servant departed the room.
Adrian’s words brought a chuckle from him, the weariness of travel already fading as the whiskey revived him. The fact was Edmund could feel his age now and his face had become lined with the toil of recent times. He was more settled, more resolute, more damn stubborn than ever.
Only when Adrian drank did he realize his breath was a bit labored and silently the shock of it jolted through him, conquering for once the urge to sip more whiskey. Had he really rode that hard? Edmund’s amusement faded, a slight shake of his head as he fought against the mortality of his own body. He had too many ideas to set into motion, too many people to protect now especially since Madeline became duchess. Ironic it was that he felt the need to shield the citizens from their very own female ruler.
“Aye, Adrian. I’m afraid the years are catching up to me now and again,” he said only half teasing. And in that moment, he pined for Catalina and her soothing ways. Clearing his throat, the brief flash of homesickness was gone a second later. That is what she’d become to him, he thought with a smile. She was home.
“Quite rested now, good sir,” Edmund stated. He was almost impatient to hear of this favor from a man who had never before asked such a thing. Whether it was that knowledge or simply an excuse to escape the confines of Roseworth manor a short while, Edmund had indeed come quickly. “I am eager to hear of this favor you ask...” he said as he leaned back further into his own seat. He eased back into the role of caring friend, his breath even now as he watched the face of his marquess.

Adrian noticed the pained look on Edmunds face, and noticed how he immediately thereafter ignored the whiskey. He might be going through a transition, then again, he may just be too tired to drink. Adrian himself drank some more of the cider.

"Ah, they will do that, I suppose."

His mind wandered to Victoria, he wanted he here. By his side. Forever. And always. He glanced at Edmund, who also seemed to be lost in some minor thought, he snapped back in a matter of seconds. He smiled at his friend after his comment that he was well rested.

"Ah yes....the favor."

Adrian glanced at his friend. Could he really trust him? Of course, it was Edmund! One of the most trustworthy men in the world. Adrian would trust his life and more to this man. Which is exactly what he was doing.

"I don't want you to force Victoria into a marriage she doesn't want."

Adrian looked down at his hand, he played with the emerald inlaid ring on his right ring finger, before looking at Edmund, hoping he wouldn't get angry at the request. Adrian was a mere Marquess, he shouldn't speak to a Duke that way, but he did, because Edmund was a friend.

When Adrian hesitated, Edmund’s attention riveted towards the man. This wasn’t like the marquess at all. The duke said nothing though, merely regarding his friend with a noncommittal expression.
Adrian’s words filtered through Edmund’s mind without any particular concern at first. It was only when the marquess fiddled with his ring and hesitated before meeting his eyes that made Edmund watch him in open musing. Adrian had a vested interest in Victoria! Had it been simply her wish for Adrian to ask such favor of Edmund, it would have been done during a parliament meeting or upon the green over a game of some sort. Instead he had practically begged the duke to come here, where presumably the marquess would feel most comfortable, and now seemed almost embarrassed to have asked. Almost... but not quite and Edmund recognized the quiet determination that filtered from the man before him. A man Edmund trusted completely. He knew then Adrian had much more at stake than the state of Lady Victoria’s welfare. Edmund recognized the emotion behind his request. Adrian loved Victoria. If it be the same draw that Edmund had finally found with Catalina, he would not step in its way, politics be damned. That was what he could offer in some odd attempt to make up for his own life. Every day he lived, he saw the disappointment Lady Catalina tried desperately to hide from him, the disappointment she’d never be anything but the duke’s mistress. Their children, if any came, condemned to be considered illegitimate. Children Edmund yearned for every day.
A slow smile spread across Edmund’s face as he leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hand across his chin to partially hide the knowledge he just gained. The duke breathed in deeply, drawing out the release as if he savored whatever scent he had caught. It was more representative of his thoughts and the plans he already had in store for Victoria. If it went as he planned, her future would be out of his hands someday. He couldn’t promise what he had no control over. The council had forced Esabell to marry in order to keep the throne. They had forced Edmund to marry Madeline as well to keep his position. If Victoria became the next heir to Pemberton, she too would be forced to marry when the time came. When the time came.
Edmund straightened in his seat, the duke gone now and only Adrian’s friend here. “Adrian,” he said evenly, “as long as it be in my ability to do so, I will not force Victoria into marriage.” That was all he could promise, the very limits of his own power.
“Now,” he said with that knowing smile teasing slightly, “what brings this about? Has my niece convinced you to become her protector?” He grinned, chuckling as he shook his head. Adrian and Victoria. He couldn’t think of a better match.

Adrian half smiled, albeit nervously. He drank some more of the cider, before putting the empty pewter cup down. He took off the ring and set it down. The gold reflecting the candle light brighter than it really was. The marquess shut his eyes and leaned back in his seat. He sighed, was it too much to ask? Adrian felt helpless right now. It was far out of his power, and he knew Duchess Madeline, the thought of her made anger course through him, would never allow it. He brought his head down, opened his eyes, and shook his head.

He glanced up at Edmund, who was obviously trying to conceal his thoughts. Had he been talking to someone else, it could have passed for a man simply thinking about something, completely irrelevant to the topic at hand. Adrian had known too many men who did that to conceal emotions. He smiled, listening to his friend talk, atleast there was some hope.

"Something like that."

Adrian chuckled, vagueness was a virtue. As was simplicity. In this case, one overruled the other. He pulled a cigar from the box on the desk, and lit a wooden match to light it. The finest cigars improted from the Imperium. He grabbed a second and offered it to Edmund. Adrian rarely indulged in these, but a friend was a good enough occasion in his mind.