Vanguard: Awakening

Saint Amelìon: Chapter Thirteen

"Y-Yes ma'am!" Instinctually, Cedric immediately assumed the position of parade rest out of instinct, being within the presence of such an influential woman - Cedric mistakened her to an officer. Instead of recovering after realizing what he had done, he remained in position. He didn't know the proper way to address the this Korellei woman, Faring's mother. He simply hoped that parade rest would be universal.

"Hm, a soldier. That's good. Where is she?"

"Just behind me, ma'am."

The woman peered to the side, giving a scrutinizing look to Faring as she stood straight in her blue lingerie that covered from her bust down to the middle of her thighs.

"Mother..."

She gazed upon Cedric's form once more. "At ease, call me Lady Franchaise (Fran-Se) Ser Cedric." Her wording was confusing, but at least it was in low Korellei so he could understand her. "Dismissed." Thoroughly confused but somewhat feeling complimented, Cedric returned to a regular stance. He stared at Faring dumbfounded, who just shrugged in response.

"Faring, if you were taking this slave as your heir-giver, you should have mentioned so."

Faring flushed, "Oh, no - that's not what is going on... Mother. We had... A rough night."

"I am aware, not of the specific details - but enough to know that House Rax now knows far more than they should. Your tact is lacking, Faring."

"Of course mother, I apologize." Faring curtseyed. 

She straightened up, ready to engage her mother in conversation. "I was not aware that you had arrived already."

"As you wouldn't, we expedited our route. Ser Cedric, would you please pour me some of your wine?"

Dumbfounded, Cedric gave a pleading look to Faring - who simply nodded in the direction of the wine that rest in their ice bucket while a fake smile. Not sure what else to do, he simply followed his military etiquette ingrained into him since basic, she seemed to respect it. "Yes, ma'am." Trying not to think of his current clothing predicament, he followed the order to the letter. Acquire wine, search for cork popper, pop cork, pour in an elegant stemmed glass. Thankfully, all of the tools were easy to find - and whatever technology was blended with the seemingly organic ice kept the wine cold. He wasn't sure how to go about it, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't at least try. He cupped the wine glass in his palm, and like pouring an oriental tea he lifted and tilted the wine bottle in one fell swoop - the wine bottle being rested back on the kitchen counter after a single pour. Cedric was proud of his performance, he only ever did such fancy moves with drink when he was by himself in his barracks as a form of entertainment.

"Faring, I do not need to remind you that your choice of dress at this time is not befitting of a noble lady."

"We slept in late mother, your arrival was not expected at this time. I have no intention of dressing up when in the absence of visitors."

"Hm, I suppose not. You've learned so much and yet so little."

"I do believe I've learned what is necessary to function in society, mother."

"I disagree."

The tension in the air could be cut with but the slightest pressure of a dull knife, and cutting it indeed was Cedric's intent.

"Your wine is ready, ma'am."

Lady Franchaise stared daggers into his hazel eyes.

"Did I tell you to inform me when you had finished pouring?"

"No, ma'am..." No longer was Cedric trying to please this woman, but rather contest her. He KNEW she was important, he KNEW not to talk up to her, but he just couldn't control his slowly rising anger, last night taught him a very valuable lesson in being passive, he would no longer let himself be underestimated and taken advantage of - never again.