Chapter 4 - A Difference of Opinion
Tasha scowled fiercely as she strode down the keep's main hall, her dark colored breeches making a faint swishing sound as she walked. She was determined, but the dark circles around her eyes indicated that she was more than a little tired. Out of nowhere she yawned, stumbling mid-stride. But Hal was right there behind her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder to help keep her steady.
Angrily shrugging away his hand, Tasha flashed a glare back over her shoulder and nodded curtly, pointedly ignoring the look in his eyes.
Resuming her forceful pace down the hall, Tasha sincerely wished that she could lose her lumbering entourage. She'd tried everything short of outright ordering him to go away, mainly because she didn't think that even that would work.
"Are you positive that you don't have anything else to do, Hal?" Tasha asked again, frustrated.
His voice was deceptively quiet when he spoke. "No, milady. Protecting you is all that I... "
"I don't need you to protect me!" Tasha barked, startling more than a few of the servants passing by. "We're in my father's keep, for pity's sake. Nothing is going to happen to me here!"
Hal didn't speak for a moment as they ascended a flight of stairs, advancing on the doors to Baron Tyren's study. When he did speak it was almost, but not quite, under his breath. "That's what you said in Milton, too."
Tasha spun back to face her living shadow and advanced on him menacingly, her eyes blazing. "What did you say?" she hissed dangerously, practically daring him repeat himself.
Hal lowered his head, his scraggly hair falling down over his eyes dejectedly. "Nothing, milady," he mumbled.
Tasha began to feel ashamed of herself. Running a hand down over her eyes and then back up to her hair, she tried to apologize. "Let's just chalk that little outburst up to weariness, okay, Hal?"
Hal shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly, a hurt little boy stuck in a big man's body. "If you want, milady."
Tasha stood there, looking at the man for a moment or two longer before huffing out all of her breath at once. "Look, just stay out here in the hall." Maybe if I explain it with enough patience. "I need to speak with my father. Alone," she emphasized. He couldn't ask for more patience than that. Hal merely shrugged again, noncommittally. Tasha was beyond caring at that point. "Fine," she said, turning to the doors to her father's study and entering without a knock.
As the doors shut her, Tasha spotted her father. He was sitting in his plush easy chair that faced the fireplace. Finding him wasn't as easy as it might sound. The only light in the room was coming from the fireplace, none of the lamps were lit and all of the windows had their curtains closed.
Baron of the Vineyard Grove, often hailed as the best, and hardest working winemaker in all the lands, Tyren Pellaren was quietly sipping at some tea and staring into the fire. As Tasha advanced on him, she immediately noticed that he was very tired. The bags under his eyes were even darker and more pronounced than her own. His white, thinning hair was as neat as always, but his clothes looked as if he had spent the night in them.
Immediately, Tasha was on her guard. Her father, Lord Tyren, was a very methodical man. Even though he was a Baron, his ritual was to always lead by example and be up at the crack of dawn after a good night's sleep to get right to work. He kept very regular hours, rarely varying from the set schedule. To think that he had stayed up all night indicated that either something extremely important had come up, or that he had something personal on his mind. In either case, Tasha knew that it was unlikely to be something good.
Worrying for her father, Tasha knelt down beside his chair and lightly touched his arm. He started, his eyes flicking towards her in surprise. Then a warm smile spread across his plain, aging features. Tyren Pellaren was an older man, father of four, fully grown children. He had lived a long life, full of happiness and sorrow. He rested one, shaky hand gently against Tasha's cheek and smiled again.
"Good morning, Tasha" he began in his slow, soft voice. "Did you sleep well?"
Tasha yawned widely at that unfortunate moment. Her father chuckled knowingly. "It would appear not," he commented with a wry smile.
"At least I slept, father. Unlike some people that I could mention." She looked her father directly in the eyes at that point and saw that he most certainly had something on his mind. For a quick moment, Tasha was tempted to use her abilities to try and find out what was so urgent that her father was losing sleep over it. However she easily refrained from doing so. He'll tell me if it's something I need to know... or something I've done.
His weathered smile drooped slightly. "I have had a long night dear Tasha. Full of pondering."
Tasha sighed wearily. It is something I've done. "Is it important?" she asked as patiently as she could manage, her own thoughts wanting to burst forth in a rapid torrent of words.
Lord Tyren nodded with a faint smile. "Quite. I must ask you to hear me out, dear. My news concerns you directly."
"Tasha," he went on before she could cut him off. "I've tried to raise you as best I could." After draining the last few drops of his tea, Tyren continued. "It certainly wasn't easy. For starters, you are my youngest child, and my only daughter to boot. It was very hard to avoid spoiling you at times, my dear. Especially after your mother died." Tasha's father paused sadly for a moment and she squeezed his hand comfortingly. He smiled. "I didn't know anything about raising a daughter." He laughed softly. "To be perfectly honest, I barely knew anything about raising a child, be it a daughter or son.
"But, for obvious reasons, I had better luck with your brothers. Well," he quickly amended with a rueful grin. "Most of the time anyways."
He cleared his throat wetly, noisily. Tasha was slightly revolted by the size of the gobbet of phlegm her father was forced to expectorate into the spittoon on his left. "So, against all of my best attempts and intentions, I ended up raising you like a son. That's not to say that you act like a boy," Tyren interjected quickly, the wry grin back on his face. "By the Gods Above that is hardly what I mean at all. And I assure you, no one would ever mistake you for anything but what you are on sight, my dear." Tasha blushed briefly while Lord Tyren smiled to himself. "But you dress like a man a fair amount of the time. And you never spend any time with make-up, sewing or that type of thing." He then leaned forward conspiratorially, whispering in her ear. "To be perfectly honest, I'm glad about that last bit. There's nothing I hate more than listening to a group of women sitting around, gossiping like old hens while they sew together a garment that hardly needs sewing." They both chuckled at that. Tasha clapping a hand to her mouth in embarrassment after accidentally snorting. Lord Tyren laughed a bit harder at that.
"But seriously, Tasha," he continued, sobering his mood again. "There must be something to all of that so-called feminine nonsense. And I'm hardly in a position to teach it to you myself... "
"Father," Tasha broke in nervously, suddenly fearing the worst. "What are you saying?"
He withdrew a parchment from one sleeve and unfolded it in his hands, glancing at it with the familiarity of someone who knew the words he read before he saw them. "Tasha, this is a letter from Duchess Chrysanthia in Kaemar. It seems that she is out looking for a new lady in waiting to attend to her needs and learn the ways of court." Lord Tyren began apprehensively, carefully gauging his daughter's reaction from out of the corner of his eye. "Now, she's aware that you're, uhm... a bit older than most girls normally are when they're just starting out. Nevertheless, you are her first choice."
Tasha's face easily mirrored her disbelief. "Father, you're not seriously thinking of... "
"In truth, I have done quite a lot of thinking on this Tasha. And... I think it would be in your best interests to go."
Tasha was thunderstruck. "But... But I don't want to go."
Lord Tyren sighed regretfully. "I'm afraid that you don't really have much of a say in this, Tasha. I can't allow you to continue wasting your life away any longer. I’ll be m
aking all of the final arrangements this afternoon. You will be leaving at the beginning of next week." He then let his gaze wander over his daughter's features longingly, as if for the last time. "I am sorry that this is so sudden, my dear one. But I really believe that this is the best thing for you."
Tasha didn't say anything for several long, frighteningly silent moments. Words fail me, she thought, surprisingly blandly.
Her face slowly turned a shade somewhat darker than purple while her whole body began to shake with suppressed emotion. Her father flinched back, trying to prepare for the worst.
Lady Tasha Pellaren of the Vineyard Grove, let loose a soul rending shriek that left every person within hearing distance shaken to the very core.