Summary: This occurs a few years after Feigning Royalties… Devron’s mother is sick and she demands that he find a wife as soon as possible. Irdle is a woman whose love was slighted and is afraid of falling in love again. Devron and Irdle have been very good friends and they find comfort in each other’s company. But after an accident (Irdle twisted her ankles, silly), Devron finds himself asking for Irdle’s hand in marriage…

Faith en Grande

Prologue

A/N: This is a part of the Great Isles Saga… the second installment, really… this one is about King Ked’s best friend, the Duke of Hetral, and the Queen’s best friend, Lady Irdle… you do not need to have read the Feigning Royalties to understand how this fic goes… although, in FR, you’ll be able to pick up hints for this story… and, of course, I suggest you to read FR for some background check… but I shall try to make this fic as foolproof as possible.. ü

R/R…

OooOOOooO

Pulling Hal’s reins firmly after having darted across the open road under the heat of the burning Luthalian sun, not only was the young Duke Devron of Hetral dripping in sweat, but, also, his entire clothing had collected very icky and itchy particles of dust. Although he was still just twenty-one, he did not feel very much like a youthful spirit at the moment as he trotted his stallion through the driveway of the vast manor of Tenra. His heart was beating so fast, not because of the tiring ride, but because of the sheer anxiety building up in his head. Duchess Naryshel, his older sister and only sibling, had summoned him home by three words that pierced through his heart like a dagger – Mother is sick. Those three words were enough to make him throw himself to the back of his horse, and ride at full break-neck speed in a span of six hours.

When his mount neighed and he jumped down from his stallion at the manorial entrance at a full stop, a serious face had come to receive him,.

“Why ‘tis indecorous – “

“I had to cancel a meeting with Their Majesties for this, Naryshel, because of you,” said Devron with a frown. “So now do not tell me what is indecorous… I was only thinking of the best way to get here as soon as I possib – ”

“But –“

“I will not have you scolding me,” said Devron shortly, his good patience being marred by exhaustion. “Now, where is Mother?” he asked as he handed the reins of Hal to a servant.

Thinking that her brother’s humor was best left untested, the Duchess replied, “She is in her room and she wishes to see you the moment you arrive.”

“We can’t have any delays, can we?” said Devron in a most apprehensive manner. In a split second, he set astride across the mahogany-colored carpeted floor and up the staircase from the Hall.

What has Mother been doing? He thought worriedly. Mayhap, she ate more meat or too much sweets, she knows they aren’t –

He stopped shortly as he was shown into the grandest bedroom in the whole manor, or, even perhaps, the whole town. At once, he saw Duchess Morga’s limp body on the bed, looking so pale and transparent.

Ironic though it seemed for his form of six feet two, he knelt down to his Mother’s bedside, taking her very weak hands. His much famed good nature had surfaced again as he spoke, “How are you feeling, Mother?”

The Dowager Duchess, known to be so strong and stubborn and sharp, had said, “Fine, or course, my lad! I have had very little trouble until now.”

“Was it the bacon or the crumpets?” asked Devron frankly, knowing exactly his Mother’s weaknesses.

“Both,” said the Duchess as an honest response.

Sighing, Devron wondered how such an old woman could be as hardheaded as a child. “The doctor has never stopped telling you to avoid them!”

“The Doctor, bless that dear soul, will not ever understand my needs,” said the Duchess matter-of-factly.

“If I were the doctor, I wouldn’t hear of your cravings either… look at you, Ma, you aren’t your old self… you do realize that being in bed doesn’t suit you, don’t you?”

“But I am my old self!” laughed Duchess Morga.

Devron’s face wrinkled. “Aye, you are, and you are not getting any younger so you must take care of yourself.”

“Listen, son,” said the Duchess gaily. “I am getting old and I do not want to miss much of the joys of life so I’m living it as I see fit.”

“Short and unhealthy.”

Waving her hand in an impatient air, Duchess Morga rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Devron, you do realize that I am old, do you not?”

“At fifty-one?” asked Devron, grinning, “not quite.”

“But I am old and you know that I have a chronic ailment.”

Expelling air, Devron said, “It will not be chronic if you took great caution.”

“I know, but you must understand that I am getting old and lonely,” said the Duchess with a wistful sigh. “And my grandchild-less fate is not at all helping.”

Trying to avoid a snort, Devron said, “But you have a grandchild, Mama… there is Klavir and I know you that you are quite fond of him.”

“Aye, he is a joyful child,” said Duchess Morga in a motherly affectionate way. “but he is so gentle like Keir that he seems to lack the share of our tenacious personalities. Besides, he will not be the one to grow and play here in Tenra…”

Raising his brows, Devron wondered what his mother was getting at. Half-laughing, he said, “You cannot be asking me to marry off, can you?”

“In fact, I am.”

Looking as though struck with a heavy blow in the chest, Devron swore he would never joke about something like that ever again.

oOoOoOo

Seated on the armchair of the parlor, gulping down the oldest wine at the cellar that he could find, Devron’s face was an obscure view. What a fool he was to expect Naryshel to sympathize with him!

“You need to wed sometime in your life! It’s mighty selfish of you to be filled with your bachelorhood and not be thinking of Mama, Tenra and Hetral!” Naryshel said in slightly raised voice.

Devron wished that his brother-in-law, Duke Keir of Pyrnal, would intervene and placate Naryshel’s anger, but the Duke himself seemed not to like the idea of the Duchess lashing out at him.

“I thought your folly with Moirdle is over,” said Naryshel sharply. “But, it seems, you still haven’t forgotten her…”

“I’ve had no folly with such a woman!” boomed Devron. “She is now forgotten and was never loved.”

“Then what keeps you from doing as Mama says?” challenged Naryshel.

Gah! What kept him from marrying? Why, a lot! He did value his bachelorhood and the joys of being unattached. To add to that, he wanted to keep his job and not be bothered by anyone. There was also the fact that he was still too young to marry; the King was the only one in his circle of friends who was married.

Trying to becalm his wife, Keir went, “Surely, we need not force Devron into a marriage? Perhaps, he has a certain lady in mind and he is just biding his time? After all, endearment takes a long time to develop.”

Devron appreciated the help from Keir, but he was further disheartened. He liked the ladies and their companionship, but he never had time for them. There were only three ladies whom he met occasionally: Her Majesty, Lady Sallyan and Lady Irdle, the first of whom was married to the king, the next was affianced to the Spymaster, and the last, well, simply refused to be tied to any man.

Why should he be taking his mother’s words, though? He thought, infuriated. After all, his mother’s whim was going to meddle with his prospering business.

oOoOoOo

“It is so much like Duchess Morga to come up with such a notion,” said Ked erupting into fits of cachinnation while patting his friend’s back. The King, with Sig Iador and Duke Devron were having a few drinks after dinner while the Queen was tucking one-year old Prince Keiron to bed and the ladies, Irdle and Sallyan, have gone to their stitch-work.

“She is aging so quickly that her mind is also being addled,” said Devron tragically.

Hand rubbing his chin, the spymaster, Sig Iador, said, “Albeit the Dowager Duchess might have a good point. After all, you are her son and she wants the best for you.”

“What is the matter?” asked Queen Cyrvil entered the parlor to join them. Looking questioningly at the Duke, she sat beside Ked and covered his hand with hers.

“Dowager Duchess Morga wishes Devron to wed at once, my dear,” said Ked softly.

“Oh,” said Cyrvil, looking a bit shocked. “Wed who?”

Devron shrugged, nonchalant. “With none,” he said. “It is Mama’s wish, but as it is highly unfair, I do not think I should oblige.”

Smiling placidly, Cyrvil eyed him searchingly. “Pray, if she is so sick, you ought to do as she asks. It would not hurt.”

Grinning, “You cannot convince him readily,” said Ked; his eyes were full of amusement. “Everyone knows you ran away when Queen Anamere told you that you were to be married…”

Patiently, Cyrvil waved her hands and turned to Devron. “Well, would it hurt to try the idea of actually settling down?”

“Aye, it would,” said Devron. “If I decided to try, I wouldn’t be able to get out of it. After all, marriage is a sacrament that binds a couple through eternity.”

But Cyrvil was still as radiant as ever. “Perhaps we should ask Queen Phyllera’s help?”

Lost, Ked asked, “Mother?”

“Aye!” replied Cyrvil, her eyes were sparkling. “She could throw balls every other night and invite all the ladies in Luthale. Surely, there is one in this kingdom who would be a match to Devron?”

Bursting in mirth, Iador said, “Why, Devron, you’ve found yourself a matchmaker!”

Shaking his head and frowning, Devron went, “I will not spend my night on useless balls.”

“Oh, but Devron,” said Cyrvil, “you shouldn’t mean that… It is better that you find yourself a lady for, I believe, if you cannot come up with one this month, Duchess Morga will find a fiancée for you.”

Was this an all-out war against his bachelorhood? Asked Devron to himself. Really, he was mortified by such scheming. But, since, Naryshel and his mother were behind enemy lines, he decided that he could do with the Queen’s help. “All right!” he said in resignation. “But I will not find myself dancing with all the females in this country!”

Later that night, when all were in bed, Ked asked his wife, “my dear, we really should not be meddling in Devron’s business… whatever you have – “

“Oh, Ked,” said Cyrvil gently, “It’ll be for Devron’s best interest… by being matchmakers, we are saving him from complete blindness.”

oOoOoOo

A/N: did you like that? I’ll try to post the next chappie as soon as possible…R/R!! ü