presents...
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Avalon Stubborn
"Father Angelo? Might I disturb you for a moment?" It was difficult for a woman as solidly built as Ellen Locke to hover in the doorframe, but she was managing it.
Here it comes. Angelo rose and put on his warm, friendly smile. "Of course, Lady Ellen. But I'm afraid a moment is all I have; between the prince's visit and the feast coming up..."
She stepped into the room, stopping abruptly but shifting her weight uneasily. "Of course. Well... hopefully this isn't too terribly forward, but... you have seen the betrothal contract, haven't you? Don Antonio said he'd given it to you for your review."
"I've read it over, yes. I just haven't had the simple time to reflect on it adequately. Please, sit down, there's no need for you to stand."
"Oh. Thank you." She settled onto a chair, barely perched on the edge of the seat. He sank back into his own as she glanced down at her hands, clasped in her lap, and figeted. Not normal for her. "Well... when do you think you will have time to reflect adequately? I... I understood Father and Don Antonio had worked out most of the particulars. If there's something you want more information on, or want to talk to my father, I can arrange that."
He sighed. "Lady Ellen... I don't know."
"Well, Prince Mondavi will be leaving soon. So perhaps, do you think, a week or two thereafter?" She sounded quite hopeful. Angelo almost winced as he got up to close the door.
"I understand how important marriage is to a young woman, and I trust your intelligence and discretion, so I will explain." He heard her chair scrape, turning to see him standing by the door. "Prince Mondavi is most likely going to war. Don Antonio has seen it, and offered our aid to the prince. If things go well, our family fortunes will be much improved. If things go badly, they may be destroyed."
Ellen was watching him expectantly. "I may be destroyed," he clarified. She nodded, still obviously waiting for the explaination. He consciously refrained from pinching the bridge of his nose. "If we postpone the betrothal until after the war is done, you won't risk having your name associated with mine."
She frowned. "I've agreed to the engagement."
"Yes, but before we knew this. I wouldn't think of holding you to it."
"Angelo," she said slowly, "I've agreed to the engagement. I wouldn't think of backing out on you, especially in a time of difficulty."
"Well of course, we wouldn't make any announcments to any effect, if you thought it would reflect badly on you. But if after things are over and my name is mud, then..."
"Then mine will be as well." She rose up out of the chair, color mounting in her cheeks. "What? When an islander says she will do a thing, she will do a thing."
Angelo's mouth hung slightly open. "Ellen, you must look out for your own best interests! I'm looking out for you, here. There's no need to spoil your prospects - "
"I know my own interests and I know my own prospects, thank you, Father," she snapped.
"And as I recall," he shot back, vexed by her tone, "one of those prospects was someone who might involve you in a deadly civil war, and you were uninterested in that."
She was taken somewhat aback. "Well, yes, but..."
"No, not 'but.' It's a very similar situation, and you are very right to wish to not be involved."
"Don't you put words into my mouth," she cautioned, with a wagging finger. "Priam of Breg has sworn loyalty to his Queen, but your prince has made no such oath to his cousins. Never mind that I never agreed to marry him!"
"You made the decision with insufficient information! Were I an unscrupulous man, I would hold you to it, but - "
"I make the same decision with this information, then!" She stamped her foot for emphasis.
Angelo sputtered slightly. "Why? For heaven's sake, woman, a delay of a few months is hardly an eternity. The wedding can't be before then, anyway! If anything should go wrong, you can look elsewhere without any - "
"I do not wish to look elsewhere, you meat-headed creature!" she shouted back, face turning redder. "As it has apparently escaped your notice, I believe that I am in love with you!"
A moment of rather awkward silence followed.
Ellen ducked her head, muttering, "Damnation," and, without looking up, pushed past Angelo to the door.
She slammed it behind her.
Well. That was rather unexpected.
Sighing and shaking his head, Angelo returned to his seat. In love with him. It was really too bad, because he rather liked Ellen Locke and didn't wish her any harm.
Probably it wasn't love, he thought. She was young and he was... well, he was Father Angelo Donati. Young girls and grown women became infatuated with him on a regular basis. And all the while he'd been gone recently, absence was surely making her heart grow fonder as she prepared herself for the betrothal.
Infatuations came and went. The trick would be to make this one go... perhaps replaced by a newer one?
He'd need to talk to Salvador.
Back to Game 24 log.
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