Heavy is the Head of House (Corrine)

The next morning before breaking her fast Maester Ronnel desires a quick moment with his Lady. He properly waits till she is ready to receive him in her private office space. His fat hands wring with nervousness and sweat covers the neck and underarms of his robes. He paces in front of the desk awaiting her arrival.

It is not long before she arrives, hands folded in front of her, poised despite the recent ill tidings. However, Ronnel's practiced eye could see his Lady's paleness, emphasised by her black velvets and her coal black hair worn loose.

"
Good morrow, Maester. I understand you require my attention,"
she said, her voice soft, yet a little distant.

"
My lady, I ... am afraid upon a cursory check of my inventories ... I am... missing some ... items."
His voice is shaky and his demeanor is fearful, but for who. "
They are some medicines that in the wrong hands could be ... dangerous. Now I may have overlooked or misplaced them, but with the current situation I thought it best to notify my Lady ... in case..."

Corrine listens with concern.

"
Thank you for bringing this to me, Maester. Please furnish me with a list of the missing items, and I shall have the matter looked into right away. Who else has access to your stock?"

Maester Ronnel unconsciously breathes a sigh of relief at Corrine's calm and practical demeanor.

"
Here is a preliminary list."
He lays a short, neatly written list down on the desk. "
Like I said I will due a more thorough check immediately. As to whom would have access, with our many travels and the twins coming and care, things have been hectic. As for normal conditions only myself and immediate members of your family."


He straightens his spine and takes a step back. "
If there is nothing further, my Lady, I will begin my closer inspections."

"
Very well, Maester. Do let me know if there are further developments. I will do my utmost to find the culprit and recover your items."


She plucks up the list from the table and gives it a cursory glance, before leaving the Maester alone.

Breakfast may have to wait still. Not more than few steps from her meeting with Ronnel and a southern voice calls out. "
My Lady, a word? Nor sure if you remember me, Markton? My master introduced us once."

He was dressed like a traveling merchant, and exuded a brash confidence. He was one of Sam's ... confidants.

Ever the dutiful lady, she nodded in polite acknowledgement.

"
Greetings, Markton. I am afraid I have bad news about your master. We believe him to have perished in Essos. I am sorry."

He gives a snicker that sends chills down your spine. He speaks with a certain cockiness. "
Pardon my Lady, but I wouldn't be very good at my job if I did not already know."


After seeing her reaction his demeanor changes. Markton Sylis stood as representative for Samurel's motley crew. He was used to imitating nobles so felt little nervousness from standing in front of the Lady of House Marsten, but knew better then to pretend he was more than a common man now. His lively hood depended on it. "
Milady, I have some news about the girl thats got everything in a tizzy. The hens about Hartshorn say she was always avoiding ... my master. Got nervous when ever he was about. The girl has been sending and receiving letters, according to the cook. Wrote 'em herself. Not sure who learned her letters. Aye, before the merchant came up 'ere proper he stopped to see the lass. He gave 'er a letter and she gave 'im a letter and some coins."
The mans face becomes quite strained, "
And Milady I have some real bad news. I ... he... Milord visited 'er last evenin'."
His eyes quickly averted the Lady's, peering at the floor.

"
If you wish me to relay what it was that happened, might I suggest somewhere private."
He looks about suspiciously.

"
I am sorry,"
Corrine said, sadly. "
Of course you knew already."


As the man recounted his tale, Corrine grew very still and quiet, her already pallid visage growing even more grave.

"
Yes,"
she said softly, thpugh there was a dark edge to her voice. "
Let us go to my solar."


She walked swiftly, her skirts sweeping across the flagstones with her purposeful stride.

Once they were in her solar, she gestured for him to sit, and sat herself in the nearby window seat.

"
Tell me everything."

"
Will I figured it best to keep an eye or two on the girl."
He explains once they are alone.

(Cut to cinematic scene)

The sun had set hours ago. A thick black blanket of darkness covers the castle, only penetrated by the diminished flames of scattered torches. That same blanket seems to devour the sound of lone boot steps.

Those quieted boots stop outside one of the kitchen staff living spaces. A soft wrapping upon the door brings some shuffling from inside. Then the door opens slowly, a delicate chin and soft eyes, peer out from the darkened interior.

"
MiLord!"
The room's occupant exclaims in a whisper, her eyes a lighting with joy. A hand snakes out clasping that of the booted figure, ushering him in. With a glance into the empty hall she shuts and bars the portal behind her.

Spinning on her with a pleasant smile he is accosted. Her night shift fluttering as her small arms squeeze him tightly about the waist. Her cheek smashed to his chest listening intently to his heart beat. With a glance in to the darkness of the room she whispers. "
He is sleeping soundly. We have the moment to ourselves."


...

(Back to the solar, where Markton studies Lady Marsten's reaction so far. You can give a reaction before he continues. )

Corrine sits in stunned silence as she listens to the description. The only movement from her is of her hands tightening around eachother.

"
My husband would never be unfaithful. You must have seen someone else,"
she eventually says, after a long, tense silence.

Fearing he may insight her anger at himself, he chose to let her live in her fantasy world and give some bit of reassurance. "
Well it were dark and I was looking and listening through the cracks in a door. They did step out of my line of vision at this point and were quite quiet, till..."


(Cut to cinematic scene)

... a callused hand brushes back dark hair, like his mother's, from the slumbering boy. The visitor places a worn wooden toy horse alongside the toddler. As he rises a tiny hand reaches out to pull him back with a questioning look.

With a large smile he replies. "
One of your father's favorites. His name is Florian."


"
Forran?"
The boy attempts to mimic, looking very excited.

"
Yes, Florian. Very good. Now back to sleep. Morning will be here soon."
The visitor tucks the boy snugly back in to bed.

A loving glance back at the bed and he then moves to the woman clutching her dressing gown tightly about her. Her adoration for the man's tenderness and care beam brightly in her eyes.

"
Will you tell her? What will she do to us?"
She seems to fear "
she"
.

"
I will speak with her."
His says reassuringly, placing a chaste kiss on her reddening cheek as they part, her hand lingering on his arm until it is out of reach.

"
Goodnight, milady."
He pulls the door softly closed behind him. Back in the blanket of darkness he lets out a deep breath as if he had been holding it for some time.

...

(Back to the Solar.)

"
... and that my Lady is all of what I seen and heard."
He stands, his face showing his pity for what must be terrible news. He loved to separate nobles from their coin, but there was no fun in watching a young woman's heart break.

"
If my Lady has further need of our services you can reach me through the old fellow Rhaemon Ansel."

Corrine's eyes well up, but she fights hard to hide her distress.

"
Tell me truly, even if it is painful. How sure are you it was him?"


She looked at him with pleading eyes. Even as she spoke the words, she wasn't sure if she wanted the truth.

Markton begins to speak and then closes his mouth, torn between the truth and a lie. The lies came natural and the truth was easy, but ... he was at a loss. Then he steeled his nerve and spoke. "
My Lady it was Lord Marsten. I am sure of it."


"
May haps I could fetch someone ... to ... be with you for the moment."

She shook her head slowly, her eyes downcast and full of sorrow, her composure wavering. She took a deep breath, then looked back at him.

"
That is kind of you to offer, but no. Thank you. You were right to bring this to me."


She stood, and went to a box at her writing desk, taking out a small pouch. She walked up to Markton and pressed the pouch into his hand.

"
Some silver, for your trouble. Now that Sam is... Now that your master is gone, you may report directly to me."

Despite his training he let slip a pleased smile before changing to a look of gratitude. "
My Lady you honor me. I was merely continuing the work of my master and will continue to do so. If there is a connection between the girl and my masters death I will find it."


Bowing he slips the bag into his belt. Then waits to be dismissed.

"
Thank you, Markton. You may go."


As soon as the door was closed, she walked into the bedchamber she shared with her husband. The room, until mere minutes ago a treasured haven, now felt colder and darker in the wake of this awful new knowledge.

As she stood at the foot of the bed, her hands bunched into fists, her whole body trembling with grief and rage. She grabbed Ben's pillow and began to beat and tear at it, angry sobs escaping her throat as her onslaught sent white feathers exploding across the room, agitatedly twirling in the air and falling back down. She tossed the remains aside and fell upon the bed, weeping uncontrollably, curling into a ball, her arms protectively wrapped around herself.

She couldn't tell how long she was there. It could have been twenty minutes. It could have been two hours. But eventually, gradually, she ran out of tears. Her breathing slowed, no longer the ragged gasps between sobs. Her heart still felt like a shard of icy steel had been shoved through it, but now it was more like a cold, hard numbness than stinging pain. She sat up, pulling a handkerchief from her bodice and wiping her eyes with it. Getting up to go to the mirror, she cleaned her face in the washbasin. Staring at her reflection, with red-rimmed eyes and a still quivering lower lip, she tried to think on what to do. She had to confront him, she knew that, but should she stoically accept the betrayal, or unleash her anger and heartbreak? Or maybe, could there be another explanation?

She dabbed her face dry, and took several deep breaths to steel herself. Then, with all the poise she could yet muster, she left to look for Ben, leaving a carpet of white feathers behind her.

The gods were not kind that day, despite House Marsten's vaunted faith.

The stern faces of generations of Marsten lords and their devout ladies stare down at Corrine from Hartshorn's vaulted hall, the paintings well maintained by the grand old house.

The face that greets Corrine as she turns the corner would freeze many of the bravest lords that adorn the hall.

"
My daughter,"
offers Lady Isobel Marsten in an even, polite tone.

"
Greetings, Mother,"
Corrine replied, with a stiff but respectful curtsey. "
How are you this day?"
she asked, trying to seem calm and collected, folding her hands lightly.

"
The day goes ill. I have known the Manderlys since they were boys - Ser Medrick is a knight of talent and good character, but too high in his family's succession to seek a white cloak."


"
Family is a both a blessing and a duty."


Isobel's barbs had become more common and less subtle in recent months.

"
I must write to White Harbour post haste to pass on my condolences, Ser Torrhen oft keeps me up to date on events in the North. Mother preserve us in these times."


"
Are you hurrying to the Sept to pray for the Mother's mercy for our friends in House Manderly my daughter?"


Isobel's question is a dagger - is it clear from Corrine's direction of travel that the Lady of House Marsten is not travelling to the keep's Sept or Hartsbridge's seven sided house of worship.

Corrine nodded;


"
Family is paramount. And Samurel was like one of our own. I feel his absence heavily upon my heart. I have been composing a message to House Manderly, though finding adequate words to convey such sorrow is proving difficult and overwhelming. I did intend to pray at the Sept today. Perhaps you would care to accompany me?"


It was mostly the truth, though she had thought to delay those tasks in her search for her husband.

Some time in prayer may be useful. I must be calm when I speak with him.

Isobel was caught a little offguard, still seeing Corrine as a wilful child who would rush onward rather than respond with subtlety. Still, Isobel was committed to here jibe now and it would be a gross breach of etiquette to refuse her child.

"
Of Corrine."


Still, she was not entirely without her wits. Her daughter had clearly been walking somewhere with great urgency...

"
I had intended to travel to the Sept in town post haste. There is much talk and rumour at the moment. Our presence will calm the smallfolk. It is their place to follow, but it is also our responsibility to lead."


Tired lessons that Corrine had long since learned.

Isobel offered an arm.

"
Or will you join me in Hartsbridge once you have been about your business?"

She put her arm through her mother's without hesitation.

"
Let us go now. Other business can wait. And the light of the Seven shall benefit our dealings. I confess I too have heard troublesome gossip. It is, as you say, important to be present to the smallfolk, to reassure them."


She moved in step with Isobel.

"
Might I ask which things you have heard?"

Lady Corrine Marsten wrote:She put her arm through her mother's without hesitation.

"
Let us go now. Other business can wait. And the light of the Seven shall benefit our dealings. I confess I too have heard troublesome gossip. It is, as you say, important to be present to the smallfolk, to reassure them."


She moved in step with Isobel.

"
Might I ask which things you have heard?"

[OOC: Awareness (empathy) check please]