(1310-04-27) A Decision is Made
Summary: Timeo recieves a letter from the Sovereign Duc d'Aiglemort, containing his final say reguarding their arrangment.
RL Date: Fri Apr 27, 1310
Related: A Choice is Given
imogen timeo 

Noble District - Wine Cellar

Stairs lead down to the heavy oak door, above which the sign of the place, the likeness of a Hellene amphora spilling over with wine painted upon wood, swings lazily in the occasional breeze. Beyond that door the entrance hall comes into view, where various kegs and casks of differing sizes are arranged in oenological allure before the roughly hewn walls of ancient stone. There is a chill down here on hot summer days, that will be efficiently battled in the colder months through the heating of a giant hearth to the back. The place has a decidedly cavernous character, alcoves to the left and right offering seating at small tables for two or three. Lamps are dangling by chains from the ceiling, shades of milky glass work from La Serenissima offering sufficient lighting. There are no visible windows, which means lamps will be in use even during the day.

Further to the back there is a small hallway branching off from the main area, leading to a medium sized chamber where the bigger barrels are stored. Here, a larger group of up to eight people can sit about a round table of heavy oak, while they are being served the rarer vintages or even the heavier spirits that are stored in a wooden cabinet to the back. Staff is mostly male, clad in black breeches and white shirts with dark red vests, knowledgable sommeliers of superior training that will be glad to wait on guests in person and offer insight into the variety of wines, red and white, from Terre d'Ange and a variety of specialties from abroad, that are available here.

Timeo did not spend the night with Imogen. Perhaps accepting of her idea that they should at least maintain some propriety between them as they navigate the waters of their contract, he had returned to his own quarters. The next morning, he had found himself delivered a message from his Duc. After opening it and reading it twice, the d'Aiglemort drew in a breath and sent a message to Imogen.


Meet me at the wine cellar. My Duc has responded.


And that's where he waits - sitting at one of the quiet tables, studying a wine of the Eisande visage as he considers his thoughts, his words, and the young woman that will be arriving shortly.

Timeo sits down at Alcove table to the right.

The young women in question really hadn't the slightest clue wether she should be terrified or gleeful when she got the message from Timeo in her room. Sure her own duchess was delighted to grant them permission to be consorts, even if they couldn't marry, but what if his duc had said no? She tortured herself the entire day until she could meet him in the wine cellar, but like usual almost none could tell she had been stressed at all, she approached him and offered a polite curtsey and warm smile. "Vicount d'Aiglemort," she remarks, almost teasingly.

"My Lady Imogen." Rising from his seat, Timeo's hands reach to take hers with an affectionate squeeze before he moves to sit with her at the small table, ordering a second glass for the woman. "Though I believe you shall not be calling me that much longer." he finally offers to her as he sets the parchment on the table. "My cousin has responded to our request. I am.. personally delighted with the idea, but I want to know your thoughts on the matter."

Imogen blinks a bit and tilts her head at his words, though her hands squeeze his in return as she takes the seat at his table. There's an air of hesitence and confusion, but none for him, only the many, many questions she's built up over the day before coming here and being able to talk to them. She doesn't say anything in response, just gingerly picks up the letter and reads to herself.

To my nephew, Timeo Isidore d'Aiglemort.

Truth be told, I did not expect your ventures to Marsilikos to be graced with success this swiftly. But then again, knowing your late father and his disposition, when he was still with us, I should not have been that surprised. Surprised I am at the nature of the proposed match, to make it a consortship rather than a marriage. A marriage would bind House Mereliot to us in a manner as to ease and reconcile two Houses that have been occasionally troubled by 'misunderstandings' of the past.

Beside your letter, I have already received a letter from the Lady of Marsilikos. While Her Grace is quick to stress the mutual affection between yourself and the heiress to Florac, she also makes it quite clear, that in case of consortship the matter of heirs would have to be specified in the contract, in particular all female offspring the two of you produce would join the Florac line of succession, while the d'Aiglemort Marlieux line would be continued in any sons you will have with her.

The idea is not that bad, but, as you know, I am a man of tradition. A man who believes that politics and matches should be based on more than just the fickle basis of affection. This is no game, it is the reality we have to face to protect our beautiful Terre d'Ange from other lands. We must not appear weak and flighty, as often as we appear so to foreigners who don't understand our ways.

You wish to hear my decision? I tell you to forget about this consortship. It is flighty. It is soft. It is NOT what Camlach should stand for. Plain and simple, we need to know where we are at. We need a match of weight, that tightens our bonds within Terre d'Ange. I tell you to marry this Imogen de Mereliot, if this is your wish. As is with these matches of titled parties, you will remain Vicomte de Marlieux until your wedding. After that, I will transfer the lands and title to another branch of our family. After all, you will become Comte de Florac one day. As sweet as that sounds, Camlach will lose you. In turn I demand that your sons will squire with us, as not to get too soft, as I cannot bear the thought of Camael's blood growing stale from lack of exercise.

You have hereby my permission to court Imogen de Mereliot. The betrothal shall be announced within the week. The day of the wedding is yet to be determined, by the Duchesse of Eisande and myself.

Stay strong,

Horatio Batiste d'Aiglemort, Sovereign Duc of Camlach.

As she reads the letter, Timeo takes a moment and reaches into a small pouch at his side. Opening it, within there is a small ring that he slips into his hand as he moves to kneel down before the young Lady and future Comtesse. "Now you see the terms.. but it does not temper my growing affection for you. If you are agreeable to his terms that our sons will travel to Camlach to train.. I ask you for your hand in marriage and to stand at your side as Comte, when the time comes, my sweet Imogen."

She didn't know what to expect, but there are several emotions that flicker across the young future comtesse's face as she reads: Hesitations, nervousness, confusion, amusment, even happiness, but she does not make comment until she finishes reading. Then of course she's distracted by Timeo getting down and proposing right then and there and her eyes shine like they only ever have under threat of
losing him, but they seem to be happy tears this time. "You will lose your viscomte, your birthright, i know my title is greater, but i am still asking you to give it up to marry me. But if you are that devoted, or just that foolish, then yes, I will, we will be traditional as your uncle asks us to be," she replies weakly with a horse laugh.

"It is not my birthright.. I told you this.. as my uncle made clear, it was my post until a birthright was established anew. But yes. His words ring true." Timeo offers to her resolutely. "I would set it aside for only you, Imogen." he says quietly as he moves to settle the ring on her
finger. It might need a smaller adjustment, his mother had thick fingers compared to his intended's. "Perhaps devotion. Perhaps fooloshness. Both of them mean that I could have found myself falling in love with you - and knowing that my life would be duller without your presence."

Imogen shakes her head and sighs, but it's not sad, it's patient and tolerant, the sigh of someone who knows she's in for a lifetime of this sort of behaviour….and doesn't mind it, not one single bit. She looks at the ring as a coy sort of smile tugs at those lips. "I think even dessie would approve of this ring," she remarks good naturedly. "And if my fickle cousin would approve you know i would enthusiastically approve, I love it, and i love you, it makes no sense, but i do," she admits tearfully with a watery smile.

Once the ring is settled - Timeo looks up into Imogen's eyes. "Then we're both stricken mad by this." he offers to her with a small chuckle as he lifts his hand to brush his thumb beneath her eyes to chase away the tears. "Because I'm falling in love with you too - and I can't think of anyone better I want to be married to."

Once the ring is settled - Timeo looks up into Imogen's eyes. "Then we're both stricken mad by this." he offers to her with a small chuckle as he lifts his hand to brush his thumb beneath her eyes to chase away the tears. "Because I'm falling in love with you too - and I can't think of anyone better I want to be married to."

"Then we shall have our betrothal announced, and marriage plans made. Are you going to be well with the idea of our sons going to Camlach when they are able?" Timeo asks her as he moves to sit down now next to his intended wife, all done but the actual posting of banns at this point.

Imogen chuckles softly and nods with a smile. "Of course, my only concern is if our firstborn is a boy, but perhaps we can just stipulate that only a girl will inherit, it wouldn't really be all that out of place, mereliot likes it's females," she jokes with a grin. "But yes, camlach has always fielded the best military for the nation, and i have nothing against seeing them trained under their own relatives," she agrees with a nod. "So since you won't be a viscomte, does this mean we plan to make our wedding less grand?" she teases good naturedly.

"We'll have the wedding in Eisande style - at least you do not have to worry about combat between our families in good-natured brawling to bond us at the wedding ceremnoy." Timeo teases back with a laugh as he slides his hands over hers, caressing the ring on her finger now. "We'll have to have it fitted - I didn't get a chance to get your ring size, and it was my mother's."

Imogen smiles softly and nods as she looks down at it. "That's fine, it's a little big but it's special to you, like i hope to be one day, so therefore i like it," she murmurs softly as she rests her head on his shoulder. "I'm still so afraid this is a dream, and that soon, i'll wake up, alone again," she murmurs, mostly to herself.

"When we are married, you will not be alone again. We will have the other.. and soon after, the sounds of a child that will make us both wonder if we were sure of this as we are now." Timeo winks at her, reaching up to caress her hair with his free hand. "So, my beautiful bride, we have to keep this to ourselves a bit longer."

Imogen smiles softly and nods as her hand comes up and grasps his own. "I know, and i will, I just, this all happened so fast, I think it's still sinking in," she admits with a small grin and sigh as her hand strokes at his chest absently. "But what do you mean 'this'?" she asks good naturedly.

"Our impending marriage? At least until the official banns are posted." Timeo responds and kisses the side of her mouth. "As much as I would want to stand in the square and proudly announce that we are to be wed, it would be best to be patient - however, this means that tomorrow night, I will be able to stand at your side as your courtship."

Imogen smiles softly and nods with a mischevious grin. "So I should take the Aiglemort colors out of my dress?" she remarks playfully before nodding happily. "I'm glad, there's no one i'd rather have at my side for the event, though i fear that /will/ rather ruin the point of the masks," she teases good naturedly.

"If you would rather remain anonymous, I would understand.." Timeo offers to her with a raise of a brow that suggests that he would not really understand as he reaches to take a sip from his wine. "I will have to make sure I have the proper showing of blue and gold within my outfit as well."

Imogen giggles softly and smirks as she raises from the table. "Well then, I really should go, It seems i have a great many things to think about and do, and you should probably get yourself ready for tomorrow, i'll see you later….husband?" she asks teasingly, just /barely/ supressing a grin as she speaks.

Rising with her. "Yes. Do you wish me to visit you tonight, wife, to share in dinner?" His smile is equally irresistable for the young woman as he lowers his hands to catch her, the affection shared in public, without too much to suggest more intimate and public displays of affection.

Imogen iggles softly and nods. "I think, given the circumstances, auntie would permit me to have dinner in my room with you, yes," she agrees coyly as her hands land in his own. "Maybe even some desert," she remarks playfully, and then, as if she hadn't said it at all, turns on her heel and leaves in a flurry of silks and excitment.

Timeo watches her go, and the soon to be former Viscomte gives a smile, watching the woman with the newfound bounce in her step and he draws in his breath. "Companions, I love that woman."

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