Avery
Tipple-Tossing Tatterdemalion
As Oliver and the guests exchanged pleasantries and small talk, Edmund spent the majority of his time between the kitchens and the dining hall. Diner was to compose the main event and so it had to be flawless. Everything was shined twice. The glass clarion, the silver mirror-perfect. The table cloth was pressed, and then spot-creased. Fresh cuts and fish were still being brought in, straight from the sea, hot from the livestock. And no one could agree on which guest was the notable poet in question, but knew that he was allergic to shellfish and that his food would need to be prepared separately.
Such controlled chaos kept Edmund busier than he’d expected. And when dinner was finally underway, he made himself purposefully absent. He didn’t dare watch Oliver propose, couldn’t stomach even hearing it. He sat outside the root cellar, smoking, repeating their encounter in the study like a mantra. Oliver wanted him, went through hell and high water to make what they had possible, and- Edmund was expendable, easily replaced, and inferior in so many ways. Back and forth, a pendulum blade teasing the scab from a wound. Absently, he touched the necklace beneath his clothes.
Edmund didn’t return to the party until after dinner. As the night began to wind down he took to the ballroom and stalked lazily around the verges, watching Oliver. It was a game of patience then. Agonizing patience. When the crowd began to thin, Theo came to him, stopping his ambulation.
“Don’t tell me I’ve come upon you sulking.” She teased in greeting.
“Off your lead again I see.” Edmund quipped back, wishing she had the forethought to at least bring him a drink. She didn’t, of course.
“I don’t stray far, and I see neither do you.” Theo looked across the ballroom to Oliver, tacit implication. “For a pest turned pet, you’re rather taken with your master. I half expected to see you spitting maledictions and tossing drinks, but you’ve kept to yourself. How obedient.”
“You know as well as I how imperative this night is.”
“I do, but I didn’t think you felt the same.” Something soft and saccharine came into Theo’s tone, and she recalled. “You seemed despondent this morning.”
“Part of me still is.” Edmund confessed. “However, I’ve had better things to occupy my mind since then, things that give me a little hope.”
“I never pegged you for an optimist.” She smiled, it was an expression quickly effaced.
“I’m sure the only thing you’ve pegged with any success is your charge.”
“How dare-!”
Edmund shrunk from her before palliating hastily, “I mean you no umbrage, only jest.” His palms displayed in mock surrender. Seconds passed, he grinned and Theo rolled her eyes.
She sighed, visibly deflating before reproving him teasingly. “You flinched.”
“I needn’t any inculcating to catch on to your ways.”
“My ways.” Theo echoed, chuckling tiredly. “I know the necessity of tonight, so take ease. I’ll only bark at your vulgarity, not bite.”
“Save that for later tonight, no?” Edmund quipped, unable to censor himself.
Theo only appeared nettled. Much like how he expected her irascible reactions, she was now beginning to expect his ribald commentary. “I figure that’s what you’ll be doing, putting that mouth of yours to better use. Thought of such has kept you in place, hasn’t it?”
“You’re projecting.” Edmund scoffed, though internally he was taken aback by her intuition.
“You think so?” She asked, a cold and mischievous glitter in her eye. “Then I suppose the Lady won’t have to worry about interrupting anything should she go looking for the King’s company.” Edmund momentarily blanched at such a suggestion before his featured hardened with contempt. Theo quickly made to assuage it. “I’m only joking, Mr. Attaway. I intend to keep her to myself for the night. The look on your face though.” She smiled ingenuously.
Edmund didn’t see the charm in it, irritated. “You can be a terrifying nuisance when you so choose to, I hope you know that.”
“How else do you think I’ve dissuaded other suitors from the Lady’s hand?” Theo asked rhetorically. She seemed pleased with herself, still smiling as she searched the thinning crowd. “But enough chatter. He’s looking to you.”
Edmund followed her gaze, locking eyes with Oliver. His smile alone could make Edmund’s breath catch. Theo took it as her sign to leave, perhaps finding Geneva in turn. Edmund crossed the ballroom, painfully sober, borderline enervated, but internally elated all the same. It was hard not to embrace Oliver upon reaching him.
“Should I congratulate you, or have you grown tired of such sentiments?” Edmund asked in greeting, his surly irritation twisted into a cutting grin.
Such controlled chaos kept Edmund busier than he’d expected. And when dinner was finally underway, he made himself purposefully absent. He didn’t dare watch Oliver propose, couldn’t stomach even hearing it. He sat outside the root cellar, smoking, repeating their encounter in the study like a mantra. Oliver wanted him, went through hell and high water to make what they had possible, and- Edmund was expendable, easily replaced, and inferior in so many ways. Back and forth, a pendulum blade teasing the scab from a wound. Absently, he touched the necklace beneath his clothes.
Edmund didn’t return to the party until after dinner. As the night began to wind down he took to the ballroom and stalked lazily around the verges, watching Oliver. It was a game of patience then. Agonizing patience. When the crowd began to thin, Theo came to him, stopping his ambulation.
“Don’t tell me I’ve come upon you sulking.” She teased in greeting.
“Off your lead again I see.” Edmund quipped back, wishing she had the forethought to at least bring him a drink. She didn’t, of course.
“I don’t stray far, and I see neither do you.” Theo looked across the ballroom to Oliver, tacit implication. “For a pest turned pet, you’re rather taken with your master. I half expected to see you spitting maledictions and tossing drinks, but you’ve kept to yourself. How obedient.”
“You know as well as I how imperative this night is.”
“I do, but I didn’t think you felt the same.” Something soft and saccharine came into Theo’s tone, and she recalled. “You seemed despondent this morning.”
“Part of me still is.” Edmund confessed. “However, I’ve had better things to occupy my mind since then, things that give me a little hope.”
“I never pegged you for an optimist.” She smiled, it was an expression quickly effaced.
“I’m sure the only thing you’ve pegged with any success is your charge.”
“How dare-!”
Edmund shrunk from her before palliating hastily, “I mean you no umbrage, only jest.” His palms displayed in mock surrender. Seconds passed, he grinned and Theo rolled her eyes.
She sighed, visibly deflating before reproving him teasingly. “You flinched.”
“I needn’t any inculcating to catch on to your ways.”
“My ways.” Theo echoed, chuckling tiredly. “I know the necessity of tonight, so take ease. I’ll only bark at your vulgarity, not bite.”
“Save that for later tonight, no?” Edmund quipped, unable to censor himself.
Theo only appeared nettled. Much like how he expected her irascible reactions, she was now beginning to expect his ribald commentary. “I figure that’s what you’ll be doing, putting that mouth of yours to better use. Thought of such has kept you in place, hasn’t it?”
“You’re projecting.” Edmund scoffed, though internally he was taken aback by her intuition.
“You think so?” She asked, a cold and mischievous glitter in her eye. “Then I suppose the Lady won’t have to worry about interrupting anything should she go looking for the King’s company.” Edmund momentarily blanched at such a suggestion before his featured hardened with contempt. Theo quickly made to assuage it. “I’m only joking, Mr. Attaway. I intend to keep her to myself for the night. The look on your face though.” She smiled ingenuously.
Edmund didn’t see the charm in it, irritated. “You can be a terrifying nuisance when you so choose to, I hope you know that.”
“How else do you think I’ve dissuaded other suitors from the Lady’s hand?” Theo asked rhetorically. She seemed pleased with herself, still smiling as she searched the thinning crowd. “But enough chatter. He’s looking to you.”
Edmund followed her gaze, locking eyes with Oliver. His smile alone could make Edmund’s breath catch. Theo took it as her sign to leave, perhaps finding Geneva in turn. Edmund crossed the ballroom, painfully sober, borderline enervated, but internally elated all the same. It was hard not to embrace Oliver upon reaching him.
“Should I congratulate you, or have you grown tired of such sentiments?” Edmund asked in greeting, his surly irritation twisted into a cutting grin.