Something Bigger Part 1

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3 

        Aden walked into the high ceilinged dining room. He had taken the time to change from his riding wear to something more suitable for dinner; he wore a patterned west over a while shirt with a pair of heavy pants. His sister had made a point to have his father ban riding clothing at dinner after Aden had come to dinner directly from the stable. The smell he carried after (secretly) helping Iris train and groom several horses wasn't pleasant. 

        Of course, Catherine had paid no attention to the cause of his stench once she'd caught a whiff of his odor. She passed off his time with Iris as nothing more than his honing a horse sense that even Catherine couldn't deny Iris was unparalleled in. Aden doubted she was completely oblivious to his affection for Iris though; she herself had had a bought or two of young love with the occasional handsome servant. So Aden did his best not to rub his sister wrong. If she ever brought the matter to his father, he doubted the lord would take such a mild stance. He may have taken in the young horse whisperer after her parents had perished while in his service, but anything interfering with Aden's path toward inheritance might be seen as a threat to the wellbeing of the estate, which lord Lockwood took very seriously. However, Aden hoped, at worst, Catherine perceived his relationship with Iris as young meaningless love; nothing more than a crush. 

        Alas, Aden conformed to the dress requirements if only to keep Iris out of the conversation. Catherine may have brushed the relationship off as meaningless, but The Lord had strict notions on where nobility and workers could mix. Helping the workers built character - loving the workers...that wasn't to be tolerated.  

        As Aden took each smooth stride toward the long rectangular table in the center of the room, he made his smile neutral, unreadable. The casual mention of Iris at the dinner table could be detrimental if he wasn't careful. He sent polite greetings toward his mother and sister, who already sat at the dining table. With a smooth swipe, he pulled out a chair from the table. He sat in silence before casually glancing across the wood at Catherine.  

        "You look lovely." He said with a grin. She's pulled her strawberry gold hair back into a low ribbon, after which ringlets exploded down her back. An intricate pin of delicately crafted metal, twisted into impossible patterns, rested just above the ribbon. 

        Catherine raised an eyebrow, curious. And suspicious. Such a compliment never came out of her brother's mouth unless prompted by someone. Or something. She smiled softly, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Thank you, brother. I do appreciate a certain standard for dinner." She grinned, but Aden could see below it to the almost-glare that she certainly would have preferred to send his way.  

        Of course, any incivility would result in a sharp word from their mother, and, inevitably, consequences from their father. So they kept their word-play civilized, and their hostility contained within their eyes. It was a game and all games have winners and champions and losers. 

        "Have either of you heard from your father today?" Aden's mother asked is a soft voice that always reminded him of the quiet hushing sound that you could hear when listening to a waterfall in the distance. She looked mostly as Aden, knowing he was more likely to have seen his father in the stable or outside, but spared a few glances toward Catherine, just in case.  

        "I have not, mother." Aden responded. "I was out riding most of the day, though." he confessed. "I only got back several minutes ago." Only long enough to change, in fact.  

        His mother sighed, as though she'd been unable to find him for quite some time. "I supposed we'll just have to trust he'll arrive before we wither from hunger." She joked, though the near monotone of her voice didn't quite translate the tone of the statement. She looked tired, with dark circles under her eyes and a pale tint to her skin. But Aden's mother said nothing about why her gentle perkiness was gone today - she just sat quietly, gazing at the fire that danced in the ornate fireplace along the inside wall of the room.