Lord Edmund strode carefully though the double doors, trying to recount how long it had been since he had walked this same path. It seemed much too long and he gazed fondly at the ornately decorated room, eyes sweeping through slowly as if to digest it all once more. Deciding to relax within the public room, Edmund began heading straight that way, instinctively ducking his head though there was no real need for it. It was an odd old habit that the Lord struggled to forget. He remembered too often the stooped doorways of his childhood home and chuckled inwardly at himself just now. It must have been several years since he had really been here, back when he could bedazzle the youthful girls and still scurry about carelessly. That was before he was challenged to become a swordsman, before his life lost its carefree luster and he opted to take over the duties rightfully belonging to his drunken father. Before he then decided he had done enough and it was time to move on. Time to let the pained expressions of his younger siblings slip from his mind... time to let go of the knotted guilt that surfaced from time to time, threatening to lose him in an inner battle with no hint of victory.
Edmund cleared his throat, the noise gruff and meant to force away such despairing thoughts. This was no place for such misery for Edmund had always admired the unique design of these palace rooms. His booted feet carried him to a wooden chair, its spiral back belying the actual comfort it offered. The man almost looked out of place, with his sun-darkened skin and calloused hands but his gaze was unwavering, confident, and then you knew for certainty he held his own degree of due ability. His eyes seemed vibrantly alive while the rest of his body hardly moved. Such a myriad of emotion swarmed within them yet his hands rested calmly upon his lap in a relaxed posture. Lord Edmund hoped to meet some of the other Lords and mayhaps some higher ranked individuals. After all, you could only dare to catch glimpse of the King himself, such an honor it would be to speak with him. Edmund eased back into his seat, the clouds lifting from his sight as he waited patiently, watching the activity with interest. Nearby a card game ensued and scattered about were small clusters of fellow courtiers. This was not the time to reminisce about bygone years. This was the time to forward his own life, and to do that he had better begin to forge some friendships.

Hanging around seemed to be a very large part of the duties of a courtier. Of course you were meant to keep the king happy, but he had to actually realise that you existed for you to please him, and as he was usually surrounded by favourites it was slightly hard to do anything but wait for an opening. Which required hanging around. Which Richard hated, but as his manservant so helpfully pointed out, he had nothing better to really do apart from write home. His mother hadn't forgiven him for telling his sister that several ladies here wore Amethyst hoods, revealing their hair, when he last wrote so he was avoiding doing that duty at the moment.

He was standing by a window, looking out over the gardens. It was still quite warm, but there was a certain touch of chill to the breeze and a hint of gold to the leaves which suggested that it wasn't going to last much longer. Autumn was on the way. With it would come rain, colder weather and less to do outdoors. Richard didn't really mind the rain, but a lot of people here did.

His fingers drummed on the windowsill as he cast his eyes over the gathered people again. Courtiers of both genders sat and stood around, talking, laughing, playing cards, dice and a few of the ladies were sewing. Others were looking around, waiting for something to happen. For the king to show up so they could beg for something, maybe, or his sister so that she could give him a message. They were still like a heard of peacocks, bright colours and gems everywhere. Apart from one man sitting in a spiral backed chair.

His posture, while relaxed, was different from that of the others around him. His skin was tanned – the height of unfashionable, so naturally Richard's skin was tanned as well - and while Richard couldn't see his hands from here, he was prepared to be that they looked like they'd seen a lot of work. The man looked like an experienced fighter. In his eyes was a confidence born of knowing that he could handle himself in a fight. Richard had never seen him before, he was sure he'd have remembered such an individual here if he'd seen him because it was rare to find someone who looked like he did amid the swirling colours and ever changing fashions.

Richard himself was clearly out of his element at court, apart from being tanned he was wearing clothes which had never really been in fashion for the nobility as far as anyone knew. A pair of trousers, boots which, while serviceable, were clearly old, a shirt and a leather jerkin. There was no sign of adornment, and the sword at his hip was a hand and a half sword compared to the favoured thinner, lighter blade. His dark hair hung down to his shoulders, and his dark eyes looked somehow experienced, shot through with curiosity as he regarded this new arrival.

Looking around, he took his weight off the wall, walking away from the window and skirting a pair of ladies as they sat with musical instruments on stools. He ended up by the man's elbow, looking down at him. He looked as if he was older than quite a few people here, although he could just have been more experienced. Most people here looked very young to Richard.

"I don't recall seeing you around before, my lord, are you recently arrived?" He asked. He was fairly certain the answer was yes, and the man could only be a lord. Maybe more likely to be a minor lord like Richard than a major one, but still a lord. Experience gave men confidence, but not the ability to seem right at home in the middle of a group of courtiers. He didn't think this was the man's first visit to court, somehow.

Edmund had noticed the carefully shrouded scrutiny directed towards him but he did nothing. Instead he had vaguely drawn his own conclusions about the man watching him. Edmund surmised he was a fellow Lord, with sun-darkened skin like himself to boot. His clothes were almost an afterthought but it was that similar confidence he exuded, that which Edmund himself so rigidly maintained, that caught his attention. It has often been said that one warrior can recognize another.The ease with which he walked, his unusual sword hanging proudly by his side spoke volumes.

Lord Edmund remained still until the unknown man was right beside him, politely inquiring as to who exactly he was. Edmund rose then, meeting the man's curious gaze with his own. His voice was clear as he answered; "Ah Right you are Lord. I've been absent from court for some time. I am Lord Edmund Duncan. My father.." Here his tones faltered just the slightest. Brows furrowed for a moment while he pushed aside any concern this man might remember his father. Doubtful but still possible. Lord Edmund had simply vanished for the past several years, working hard to feed his siblings. At best, it was thought he simply desired to never wed. At worse, he was labeled a woman's man. Few knew the truth and fewer still would probably remember such last name. It had just been too long since the Duncan family had been active in social circles.

Edmund finished his statement then, muffling a feigned cough to hide the pause in his speech. "My father was Lord Oswyn Duncan, recently deceased. My mother is Lady Avery." When he spoke of his mother, any hint of resentment instantly vanished. Edmund held his mother on a pedestal. He alone knew the sacrifices she made for her children and he remained somewhat in awe of her fortitude to this day. True Ladies were selfless and good mothers put their children first and foremost before any personal need. The rest were simply a night's companion, a warm body to hold temporarily and satisfy one's primeval wishes. That is how it was to Edmund. It didn't matter their beauty in itself really, though he did find himself drawn to those with blonde locks of hair. He found beauty in loyalty, in sacrifice. His mother drilled into him the importance of such and further molded his stoicism.

And now he stood a confident man, self-assured in his knowledge of swordsmanship and yet inwardly striving to prove he was worthy. Worthy of something more than the bad reputation his father left, as if a bitter aftertaste lingered even after his death. Flashing a genuine smile towards the unnamed Lord, Edmund continued to speak, redirecting the questioning now. "And your name, my Lord? I'm afraid I still don't recognize too many faces around here. It is astounding what changes in just a handful of years."

The man rose when Richard spoke to him, and standing up he looked quite intimidating. He was well dressed, but as Richard took the opportunity to study his hands he saw that, as he suspected, they were calloused. If you knew what you were doing you could tell a man's history from the placement and size of the callouses on his hands, or so Richard had been told. He'd never tried looking at palms that way.

Lord Edmund Duncan. The name didn't ring a bell at all with Richard, but as the man paused before continuing about his father - and covered this pause very well with a cough - Richard wondered if the man expected him to know something bad about the family. Apparently there was something about it that Lord Edmund didn't like to talk about, or think about, and that meant that it was potentially scandalous. Richard, with his father, was hardly in a place to look down on anyone else's parents and so decided to pretend that he hadn't noticed anything and to keep his nose out of the Duncan family history.

"My condolences for your loss, Lord Edmund." Although, considering that he'd looked a lot happier somehow when it came tot his mother, he wasn't sure that Lord Edmund really wanted condolences for his late father. His own mother had managed to raise two children - being fourteen when his father died, Richard hadn't counted himself a child - and scrape money together for a tax they couldn't really afford. Had this Lady Avery been doing a similar thing since her husband's death? Her son certainly seemed to look up to her, so she must be pretty impressive. Lord Edmund didn't seem to be someone who'd give respect like that where it wasn't due.

"It is hardly surprising, I have been here several weeks already and I see new faces every day." He laughed, looking over the courtiers gathered here. He recognised a few as being people he saw most days, but he couldn't for the life of him remember any of their names although he was sure they must have been pointed out to him by someone at some stage. "In any case, my family hasn't been present at court for some time now. I am Lord Richard Harwood, from the north." He didn't hesitate in announcing his name, he hadn't had anyone recognise it so far and he didn't want to draw attention to it by hesitating about it. He wasn't sure what Lord Edmund had been doing to gain his experience, but he'd just have to hope that it didn't involve rebellions i the north.

"This is not your first visit to court, I take it?" He asked, wondering how the place had changed in the years between this man's visits. He was certain that this wasn't Lord Edmund's first visit, for one he seemed to know his way around and how things worked at court, and he'd also said that things had changed in a handful of years, hinting that he had been in attendance at court some years ago. Obviously long before Richard had even seriously considered coming to court, and probably in the time of King James. It would be interesting to know how the court had changed over time.

My condolences for your loss, Lord Edmund.

Such expected words really, but nonetheless they were strange to hear. Edmund had yet to have anyone offer condolences, regardless of whether they were sincere or just properly delivered speech. Then again, he had refrained from mentioning it to anyone else. And for that matter, why had he to this man, this Lord Richard? Unsure, Edmund had only grunted once and nodded, leaving him to continue on without interruption.

As Richard's gaze swept over the courtiers, Edmund found himself following suit. Sure there were a few faces he recognized, some of the more well-known families and their sons and daughters sent to court. Edmund could usually guess correctly just by ruling out others based on physical features though there were some who completely threw him off key. The majority were younger than he and that made him feel sort of singled out at times. In some ways, his age was indeed easily pinpointed especially while his face wore the stern mask, his eyes clouded with numerous thoughts. At those times, he did look his age but when his gaze was lit with that inner fire and his smile stretched across his strong chin, Edmund could even be called handsome. He was never both, never handsome and mysterious but either very attractive to the opposite gender or just darkly brooding which in turn usually led to unapproachable.
Edmund hadn't thought much of his increasing age until just recently. It seemed only as of late did he wonder what wedded life would be like. Edmund wasn't naive, wasn't innocent, but he had been discreet and his lovers had never talked ill against him. He was always honest and had never burned bridges by making empty promises. That went for more than just his secretive personal life but carried onto the fellow Lords he met as well. It gave him some strong supporters and then some who resented his lack of superficial compliment. Edmund would have been surprised had he known Richard's silent thinking was head on. Edmund never did give undue respect.

Facing the fellow Lord, Edmund smiled upon hearing his last question. His eyes held a far-away look, perhaps a bit pained but nonethless there was that determined edge, as if his years away had somehow sculpted him into the man he was today. Edmund's resolve to gain respect and rank was firm and he would succeed, had to succeed. Edmund couldn't even dwell about failing in that regard. He equated hard-earned title to alleviating the tarnished reputation his father left for the Duncan family.

Thinking over Richard's family name of Harwood, Edmund couldn't say he knew of them off-hand. He had not paid much attention until recently and now he realized how far behind he really was. Smiling lightly while Richard smoothly inquired as to how long Edmund had been absent from court, he had to admit this Lord was skilled in the art of communication. Edmund almost felt an ogre compared to some of the other courtiers but he felt a certain ease with this man, his guard lowered enough that he could speak more openly of his past years. Lord Edmund had not ever met the new young King in person but he did remember a few unimportant and brief chats with his father, nothing to boast of though. At that time, Edmund had been younger and more into chasing the girls around than earning himself a proper respectful view in the eyes of His Majesty.
He spoke to Lord Richard, his voice flowing easily, more relaxed after initial introductions made. "Indeed, it has been long, too long I worry for I am left with this awful habit now of being the oldest Lord in court." He chuckled, easing some of the directness from his past. He didn't offer explanation as to why he had been absent and based on the way his gaze met Richards, it was obvious he wasn't feeling up to those exacts right now. He left the Lord to conclude what he would, knowing inwardly he had only done honorable duty to his family. That, Edmund believed, was what any eldest son would be expected to do but because not many were aware of the specifics, he was often labeled differently.
"I cannot say I know of your name though I am pleasured to meet you. Would you care for a game of cards while we continue our conversation?" Edmund wasn't very good at playing cards but he was a good sport when it came to that. Perhaps it would be nice to learn more of this Lord and what in particular he hoped to gain from court.

A grunt and a nod. Lord Edmund was not very fond of his late father, then, or at least didn't want to discuss the matter any further. Richard wasn't planning on asking any questions about the man, he honestly believed that it wasn't his business as the man was already dead and they'd probably never had anything to do with each other. All the same, he was slightly curious as to what exactly the man had done to earn his son's dislike.

Yes, Edmund certainly looked a bit older than the people in this room. Most were young women finding husbands, and young lords who didn't have duties taking them away from court yet. It wasn't a bad old though, and really he didn't look above middle age. It was slightly amusing that it signalled him out to be called old, perhaps experienced for it was a better word. Of course, you'd have to define which sort of experience, because quite a few people here were very experienced at what they did.

There was no sign of recognition at his family name, and Richard felt slightly relieved. He wasn't his father, but he was sure that what his father had done could easily damage his own reputation. He wasn't hiding his family history as such; he just wasn't elaborating on it at all. It had worked wonders so far and he hadn't had to lie once. He didn't want to start telling lies here, because he was fairly certain that they'd catch up with him sooner or later.

For a second, the man had a slightly far away look when Richard asked about his years from court. He smiled as well, so whatever he'd been up too couldn't have been that bad. Or he at least had some fond memories of the time. That was good, because Richard wasn't sure that anything other than a full blown family tragedy would have taken many from court.

"I'm sure we can find some older Lords around here somewhere. I think they generally believe themselves above this rabble of young people." Richard said with a laugh, he'd seen a few older people around, but they didn't generally seem to exist in the same sorts of areas. They tended to hang around the areas where matters of state were decided, the council rooms and the offices. The rest of the court seemed to spend much more time outside, in here and generally where there was more fun to be had. It would be a shame to loose Lord Edmund to them, actually, so Richard was hoping he'd stick around here for a while.

It hadn't slipped his notice that Lord Edmund hadn't answered his questions and had found another topic. Whatever had taken him from court, he didn't want to talk aobut it. Or elaborate on those years, although he'd smiled about them. So whatever it was, Lord Edmund didn't feel comfortable talking about, and as he was a man of honour - or seemed to be, at any rate - it was probably something that he saw as dishonourable. Maybe not something he'd done himself, but the circumstances that had called him away.


"I shall do my best to oblige you my lord, but I must warn you that I have little skill at cards." Richard said with a smile, looking around for a free table, and seeing one tucked towards the back of the room nodded to it, silently asking if it met with Lord Edmund's standards. It was a small, square table made from quite a light wood without many carvings, it was standing in a poorly lit area but Richard didn't think that would really matter that much. If it didn't meet Lord Edmund's standards then they might have to go elsewhere to find a table, playing on the floor wasn't an option.

Edmund laughed easily when Lord Richard commented about the older courtiers. He found the amusing quip a polite way to ease his expressed concern. Edmund was glad that he had come here. He enjoyed the respite from usual routine orderliness. Not that one wasn't free from expectations but the general light-heartedness seen within the room's occupants was sometimes exactly what Lord Edmund needed. He was sometimes far too serious and he found a certain satisfaction letting that humorous side escape. Edmund also had a clear appreciation for a good musician. Be it flute or harp or any other instrument, he had a fondness for such ability and it could often be heard within these walls.

Hearing Richard's admittance that he lacked ability to play cards, Edmund felt slightly relieved. He wasn't very good himself but he did fancy a game at times. Following the other man's gaze, Edmund briefly scrutinized the lone table. It's small size and lack of decorative carving made it feel out of place. The lighting was not the best but after Edmund scanned the rest of the room quickly, he realized they hadn't much choice in the matter. Nodding his afirmation, Edmund began walking towards that corner.

"I suppose that will do just fine," he said without judgement, "and I must admit my own lack of skill though I do take pleasure in playing from time to time." He was having a fine time and pondered silently which game they should begin. His arm pulled one of the two stools out, settling his body down but keeping a straight back. He knew if one allowed hunched shoulders, their muscles would ache from such position later. "Shall we start with a game of Poker?" he asked. Edmund had no idea what sort of card game Lord Richard had played before nor was he certain of his preferences.
"I'm afraid I am limited as to what games I am familiar with," Edmund said, his baritone voice chuckling mildly. "My siblings never shared interest in cards." Since Edmund had spent most of his free time with them, he hadn't forged any childhood friendships beyond family. Actually, Edmund's younger sister Grace was the one who had usually trotted alongside him, her whimsical voice skittering across the breeze as young Edmund had accepted her girlish company without objection. They shared a close bond and wrote letters faithfully to one another.

Reaching into his shirt's deep pocket, he withdrew a slightly faded set of playing cards. It was obvious they were no where near new but other than a few softened corners, the cards themselves had been well-maintained. Edmund shuffled the set diligently, his fingers carefully ensuring their mixed up arrangement. He didn't do so expertly but rather just as someone who he had claimed to be, a man who played on occasion. Waiting for Lord Richard's signal, Edmund took his time shuffling.

The table managed to secure approval, and Richard followed Edmund as he began to walk over, stepping around courtiers and trailing clothing. The skirts on the ladies gowns looked pretty, but they took up a lot of space when they were standing up, and when seated the skirts tended to go outwards quite a distance. Male fashions didn't tend to have that particular drawback, but it looked just as fussy.

"I fear we'd both do well to improve drastically, they seem to play very hard here." He took the other stool, dragging it out with a foot and sitting back down. It was the right height for a table, which he was a bit surprised about because furniture tended to get moved around and not match very well after a while if it was for the use of the general public. When playing cards here, they also seemed to use an entirely different set of rules in some circumstances. Richard wasn't a great card player, but he could tell that there was a distinct difference in how they played here compared to how they'd played where he'd lived. It didn't seem to be about winning either, quite a bit of it seemed to be gracefully loosing.

Edmund kept his back straight and his head erect, Richard noticed, and his own posture was similar, mostly because there wasn't anything for him to lean back on, and he'd found out why the table was left clear. It wobbled. Not enough to really be a problem, but enough to be a nuisance. The posture was quite attractive in itself, and apart from that quite fashionable. He'd never seen a slouching courtier.

"We could try, I won't claim to be familiar with the rules, but we can try." Richard had used dice a lot more than cards, but he did have a vague idea of how poker was played. His variation, anyway, he'd been watching one the other night, which he wouldn't personally have identified as poker. He'd just have to hope that they were talking about the same variation of the game, otherwise he hadn't a hope. While Lord Edmund claimed that he wasn't that good with cards, he at least knew all the rules.

"We'd better hope we have a game in common then, I must confess I spent most of my life playing with dice and counters." Richard said, fingers drumming on the table. His fingers were usually doing something, and now wasn't an exception. If he knew few games, and Lord Edmund knew a few games, it would be quite easy for them to not share a single one. They came from quite different areas, so even though they were in the same social sphere it meant that it was entirely possible.

"Did they not? How many do you have?" Richard asked, watching as Lord Edmund shuffled the cards. As he said, he seemed familiar enough with them to shuffle well, but he didn't have the same skill as a courtier who spent hours doing it every day. The cards themselves looked old and well used, but that didn't really matter. Richard doubted that they were marked somehow.

"Neither of my siblings seem that interested in cards, my sister spends most of her time playing chess, and my brother would much rather be outside." His mother was fonder of card games, and often played them with the other ladies. Richard was like his brother when it came to cards, when his mother had been teaching him he'd always been thinking of being outside and not paying any attention at all. Looking back he could see that he probably should have paid more attention, but at the time it just hadn't seemed important.

Edmund chuckled, assuring Richard he was only vaguely familiar with the rules himself. This would be quite an amusing game. His eyes sparkled as he had jokingly said "Ah Lord Richard, we shall struggle along together then." Lord Edmund finished shuffling, passing their cards so that each man would end with five total. Now peering over his own hand, Edmund thought he held a good chance for a full house. His mouth kept carefully set into a line of unrevealed thought, he plopped a single coin onto the table, brows raised as he glanced to Richard. "Best we keep it simple then, eh?"
Waiting for Richard's responding bet, Edmund leaned back as far as he dared. His stool was a shade rickety itself. causing him to lean forward too quick, grasping a table corner for balance. As his hand brushed against the wooden surface, the table began its precarious wobble. Edmund grinned sheepishly, his eyes apologetic. Their card game would be over sooner rather than later if Edmund kept going at this rate. Perhaps he had over-estimated the table intially. Clearing his throat, he stretched once while seated, an ache beginning to nag at his back. He resorted to remaining sitting straight again, having decided such rigid posture was better than feeling sore later.
"One brother, a year younger than myself... two sisters came several years later," he said in reply to Richard's question. "My youngest sibling, Grace, and I spent much of our time together oddly enough. She just kind of followed where I went and I suppose since my brother and I are usually at odds, I tolerated her intrusion without too much complaint." He laughed, remembering how at first he had fought off her trailing after him. It wasn't really loneliness but exasperation that won in the end. Edmund had simply tired of trying to lose her and, he supposed, he had been responsible for her safety anyway. She had been a dark fairy skipping along behind him, trailing her thread of material she had fiercely called a veil. Those were the good times, and from Edmund's animated features, it was easy to see he really adored such pestful sister.
"Are you close to your siblings?" he asked Richard, his deep baritone voice rumbling across the table. Lord Edmund found this topic of siblings much more preferred than his father. In fact, the memoirs of Grace had dashed whatever sullen mood he may have been guarding and now he felt at ease, his arms folded across his chest.


ooc: Since this started before the gossip was updated, I think it best that Edmund hadn't heard any rumors about Lord Richard as of yet, agreed?