In Which Nora Is Brought Down from Her Tower

June 9, 1169

Nora was not the sort of woman who cared much about her appearance, but she did own one nice dress--a dress so nice, in fact, that she didn't dare keep it at home, where her daughter's cats might have torn it to shreds. Instead, she kept it at Veldora Keep; the former squire, likely in search of feminine garments that could be showcased as proof of his youthful misadventures, had agreed to let her store it in his drawers. Now that he'd been a knight and husband with a castle of his own for a while now, she'd let her curiosity get the best of her and stole away to see if the dress was still intact.

Indeed, there was no evidence of moth damage and the deep blue was as bold as it ever had been. It looked to be in better shape than she herself was. She'd debated for a minute or so whether she dared try it on--she'd had twins since the last time she'd worn it, and she wasn't sure whether or not she'd ever lost all the added weight--finally deciding that she would attempt to slip into it, but ease it off the minute it began to feel tight.

To her surprise, it never did; indeed, it even felt a little loose in some places. Feeling triumphant, she'd taken a moment to step in front of the mirror and play with her hair. She had a hunch that it looked messy from behind, but she liked the look of the front--sort of elegant in a casual way, or perhaps casual in an elegant way. That was just as well, as she doubted she would ever be truly elegant, nor did she have an desire to become so. This was the closest she would ever be to that fairytale princess young Viridis spent her days dreaming of becoming, alone and beautiful in her secluded little tower with nothing much better to do than pretty herself up for the promised prince. She was fine with that.

"Well, someone's all dressed up, I see. Might I inquire as to the occasion?"

Startled, Princess Nora fell backward out of her tower window and crashed back down to earth. The blood rushed to her face as she caught sight of a tall man standing by the door. "My lord!"

"I just came in right now; I only got back from the castle a couple of minutes ago," Lord Severin tried to assure her--as if that was why she was embarrassed. It wasn't as if he'd never seen a naked woman. It wasn't as if she'd never been seen naked by a man. "Perhaps I should have knocked. Anyway, if you don't mind, I'd like a word with you."

Nodding, Nora hung her head and set herself down on a wooden bench at the foot of the bed. "Of course."

"Thank you." He crossed the floor and took the vacant seat to her left, his silky hair thick and glorious even in its unkempt state. This was someone for whom majesty required no conscious effort; Nora couldn't help but feel drab and pathetic in comparison.

"Our king, in his infinite wisdom," he began, the sarcasm in his voice more than apparent, "has decided to send for several women he would like me to... consider."

Nora felt her mouth twist into a bizarre sort of frown. "Is he aware that you're a grown man? You shouldn't have to start looking for a wife if you don't want feel ready."

"Yes, but you know how he is when he comes up with such lamentably stupid ideas. I believe he means to get an alliance out of this." Lord Severin sighed, unconsciously tossing back his head in the process; Nora watched with a raptured fascination as his dark locks propelled themselves outward, then fell gracefully back into position. "Anyway, while I don't think I'm ready, I can't imagine I'll ever be much moreso, if you know what I mean. I might as well just get it over with; if nothing else, at least my children would have a mother again."

"That they would." Her words agreed, but she wasn't sure if her tone did. She wasn't sure she cared.

Lord Severin tapped the sole of his boot against the hardwood as he took a moment to study his wedding band. "Luckily, Roderick is sparing me the anguish of having to choose a woman to some extent, but apparently I may have my pick from within that group. I'm not really sure what I want in a second spouse, though, which is why I wanted to talk to you." His brown eyes locked onto her face, a small twitch of a smile flitting briefly past his face. "I get the sense that we have similar needs, so I'm curious; if you were looking to marry again, what sort of qualities might you want in a second spouse?"

It was probably the last thing she'd ever expected him to ask her. It was probably the last thing she would have ever wanted him to ask her as well. Either way, however, she supposed he deserved an answer.

"Well, it would have to be someone who got along with my children," she began; he nodded in agreement, so she decided to continue. "Of course, he'd have to get along with me as well--put up with my flaws, just like I'd have to put up with his. I don't believe that people should try to change each other."

"Certainly," Lord Severin concurred. "Continue."

Nora glanced to the ceiling, then back at her lord. "And I wouldn't want someone who went about comparing himself to Jothein; no sense trying to be someone else. He couldn't begrudge me for still loving Jothein either, even if I did grow to love him as well."

"Precisely." He was silent for moment, then sank back in quiet resignation. "I doubt there are many starry-eyed young maidens who would understand that, though; perhaps I should marry a widow."

Nora swallowed. "I should hope you'll be so fortunate, my lord."

"Ah, you!" Lord Severin indulged himself in a quick chuckle, then edged toward the center of the bench and slung his arm around her; she shivered slightly, but he didn't seem to notice. "Dressed like a duchess and still pelting me with that 'my lord' nonsense."

Was that a joke? As a compromise, Nora laughed dryly. "I'm a commoner."

"And yet, you are refreshingly uncommon." He kissed her brow, then took her by the hand and pulled her along as he stood. "I thank you for that, as well as for your opinion."

"Not a problem, my lord."

Fondly, he placed his hands on her shoulders and shook his head, a quiet grin on his lips. "Again with the titles! Do you keep doing that just to annoy me?"

"Maybe a little," Nora admitted with a wink. "Now if you don't mind, I suppose I should change before getting back to work."

"That would only be practical," he agreed as he headed to the door. He opened it and stepped halfway out, only to send a last parting glance her way. "In all honesty, though, I do hope I needn't wait another whole decade to see you in that dress again."

"Fair enough... my lord."

Falsely irritated and genuinely amused, he closed the door behind him. Nora listened as his footsteps grew ever fainter, soon vanishing entirely. When she could be sure that he wasn't about to come back, she stepped toward the bed and fell back upon it. This was the closest she would ever be to that fairytale princess, left to suffer in silence as she watched the unattainable prince ride past her tower without so much as the bat of an eye toward her wide open window.

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