The Weight of the Future (3/4, Daven/Julia, C )

[Lord Daven St. Claire]

The trip to Triadon was coming sooner than Daven would have liked. Oh, he fully admitted that Court was important, but that didn't mean he actively had to enjoy the time he had there. It was always the same. The same lords schmoozing, the same lords kissing up to others and the same lords begging (not yet begging) for this or that. It was all very tiresome. Helena had a much better handle on it than Daven did. Daven was usually content to be the intimidating presence and simply let others do the talking.

He had barely gotten out of bed and dressed when his brother, Timothy, intercepted him in the hallway. The conversation did not go as well as Timothy would have liked. His son had done something that Timothy found suitably impressive, obviously using it to showcase his ability as a leader. Daven either grunted or gave monosyllabic responses. Finally, he ended the conversation flatly, "I saw to it that Victor was named Marshal of Demeria. Don't push it, brother." With a final growl, he left the man behind and entered the dining room.

Blessedly it was quiet, and he could see that Julia had already beaten him there. At least she would be a pleasant source of conversation. Or, at least, he hoped that would be the case. "Daughter," he rumbled at her and went about picking out the various meats he wanted for breakfast. As usual, there were few vegetables on his plate. It was his opinion that they were just there to decorate the table. Hmph.

[Lady Julia St. Claire]

Mornings were Julia's favourite time of the day. The house was blessedly quiet as none of her sisters embraced the concept of morning, leaving her to enjoy a quiet breakfast with her often taciturn father before they went about their respective tasks. Her uncle had been there as well, boasting about his son's latest achievement and how eminently suitable a ducal heir he would be. Lucky for her, Uncle Timothy didn't notice Julia rolling her eyes. Victor was an unmitigated ass who thought only with his sword. He would be a disaster as the Duke.

Seeing the look on Daven's face, her heart sank. Obviously, Timothy waylaid her father before he had his morning ration of meat and ale, prattling on about Victor. She sighed softly, rising to pour herself another cup of tea and returned to the table, brushing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Good morning, Father. I see you're in a fine humour. Do I hold Uncle Timothy accountable for this delightful demeanour?"

[Lord Daven St. Claire]

The kiss barely worked to mollify an already grumpy mood. "Mmph," he grunted at her in answer, and then realized that she didn't deserve to deal with such. After all, she hadn't been the one to prattle on about her son. Daven half expected Timothy to provide precise measurements as to the length of his manhood. Ugh. Timothy suffered from the worst kind of pride.

"You do," he said, settling down at his seat with his plate and immediately began tearing into it. His manners were briefly forgotten, but he wasn't a complete slob. Still, he did talk with some food in his mouth. "If he brings up your cousin one more damned time, I am going to defenestrate him." And that was a promise.

[Lady Julia St. Claire]

Julia slipped back into her seat, the better to give her father time to begin enjoying his meal and to vent a little of his justified frustration. There were times she wished she could gag her aunt and uncle, or ship all of her male cousins to the Artonese Empire. If they were so wonderful, they could handle that little problem for Demeria! Wisely, she didn't speak her thoughts but nodded sympathetically as she sipped her tea.

The mention of denefenstration made her choke, hastily lowering the cup and applying her napkin. Mischief danced in her blue eyes, however. "If you do, I suggest making use of the north tower. Even if he bounces, he won't get back up. And we can say he just leaned out too far, trying to rescue some barely fledged baby bird or something. It sounds like something Victor the Hero would do."

Julia grinned at her father, partners in crime and conspiracy. No mere cousin would be the Duke of Twinport, not while she was alive, kicking and capable!

[Lord Daven St. Claire]

"The North Tower, hm? You won't complain if he lands in whatever flower of the season has been planted there?" Daven did know how much the appearance of the place mattered to Julia, and his other daughters. If he was truthful with himself, he would admit that it mattered to him. The castle was the sign of their prominence and power. It had been in the family for several centuries and it would continue to be so. Still... it could do with a nice coating of blood from time to time.

His daughter's grin was answered a very light smile of his own. That was the most anyone could get out of him. Daven did not laugh. Daven did not grin. If he ever did, it would probably be downright creepy. "Oh, but if even we do that, we'd have to deal with Veronica's bleating. She may cause me to go deaf one of these days." He was almost done venting. It wasn't that he hated his siblings, just... how they behaved so abysmally.

[Lady Julia St. Claire]

"Some sacrifices have to be made for the greater good." Julia smiled primly, clearly repeating a phrase she'd heard from her father once upon a time. "Flowers can be replanted. I'll do it with a smile if Victor the Hero is no longer around." She loathed her cousin almost as much as Daven did. He was simply insufferable.

When he mentioned Aunt Veronica, she tried not to roll her eyes again. "Why don't you tell her to go home? She has a perfectly good home, she needs to live in it and take her cherubs with her before Lyn strangles them." Her sister made it clear what she thought of Veronica's children, and Julia had a feeling her other sisters shared Lynesse's low opinion. "We're not running a boardinghouse. Or can we escape to Triadon soon and leave them here?" That at least was an appealing option.

[Lord Daven St. Claire]

"Yes, actually, we can," he said in all seriousness, "and we're not telling them that we're going. It will give us a few days chance to get away from them, at the very least. They may follow us, though. Fortunately, Triadon is a much larger place," and therefore, it would be much easier to lose them. The expression on his face suddenly became tired. It was only morning, too! "I also know I need to get all of you back into the Court for ... exposure," he did a vague hand gesture, then.

Daven knew there was business that needed his own touch, but he was not looking forward to it. "I've already received a letter to meet with Duke of Jardinier. No idea what he wants to meet me about, however."

[Lady Julia St. Claire]

Relieved to know they could pesky, unwanted relations behind, Julia frowned at her father's vague gesture. Exposure was a good word for it, but the facts were that her sisters needed to be wedded and soon. If Lynesse was to be the next Queen, it was high time the Prince met her and their courtship begun while she campaigned to become the next Duchess. She did not point that out to Daven, not yet.

He distracted her with the mention of the Duke of Fairfield and the man's desire to speak with the Duke of Twinport. "I wonder what he wants, indeed. I hope this isn't some far-fetched scheme to try and marry one of his sons to Rosalie." The very idea was nauseating to Julia; she had other, better intentions for her sister.

[Lord Daven St. Claire]

"That also reminds me," he paused for a moment, looking over to her, "We need to approach the Crown Prince about marriage." All of the years of training were about to come to fruition. Daven was quite pleased with her progress. He knew, in his heart, that she would make a superb Queen of Demeria. "But," he grimaced, a growl threatening to escape him. "I have been informed that the Crown Prince is ... he has ..."

Bah.

"The boy doesn't know when to keep it in his trousers." Such a charming man, Daven St. Claire was.

[Lady Julia St. Claire]

Julia froze when he spoke of marriage and the Crown Prince. She'd dreaded this day, knowing her stance on wedding the Crown Prince was going to spark the largest display of temper Daven St. Claire ever had to date. She looked down, poking at the breakfast she no longer had any appetite for and sighed. "It sounds like he's indiscreet and likely to get trapped in his own coils." There, she spoke, but that wasn't what she really needed to say.

Taking a deep breath, Julia made herself look up at him and speak closely. "Lynesse will make a fine Queen, I think. She's attractive enough to hold his attention, and clever enough to make him walk a fine line. Have you spoken with her about the prospect yet?"

[Lord Daven St. Claire]

He had been in the process of putting a large piece of meat in his mouth when she made her declaration. The fork was set down, he took a moment to actually wipe his mouth clean and then he turned his gaze on her. The gaze was intense. He was trying to tell if she were joking. However, there was no mirth in her eyes. She was absolutely serious in her statement.

"... What in the world are you going on about, Julia? Lynesse? She hasn't been properly prepared to become Queen. You know that." Actually, that didn't even address the real issue. "Are you saying that you don't want to be Queen? After all of the training and preparation we have put you through?" Julia had been right, the temper was starting to grow hot.

[Lady Julia St. Claire]

She was prepared for the ducal temper to burn red, calm in the face of its slow rise. "We've all been prepared almost exactly the same, Father. Lynesse can handle it with a little extra time to go over the refinements necessary." As much as she wanted to look away, Julia made herself hold his gaze with hers.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. There is another, more appropriate future for me than being Riordan's pretty, useless Queen. With all the training and preparation you put me through, you'd be wasting me on the the throne. And frankly, the thought of him turns my stomach." Julia made a face, thinking of the Prince's well-known exploits. "If you put Lynesse forward, you can accomplish two things at once - putting a St. Claire on the Queen's throne and spiting your brother and sister. Isn't that far more appealing?"

She tried to grin at him to tickle his humor instead of his temper, but braced herself for the Dragon's roar of fury.

[Lord Daven St. Claire]

The joke was lost on him, and if anything, it made him glare at her. "And what, pray tell, do you have in mind for your future? What do you do deem the appropriate?" The voice rose in volume, but he wasn't quite roaring just as much. "And you wouldn't be a useless Queen. You're a sensible and influential woman. I was counting that you would be one the slap some sense into the damn foolish boy so that there could be some hope for stability. Do you really think Lynesse is capable of standing up to him?"

This was not going to be a very good morning for the Dragon of St. Claire.

[Lady Julia St. Claire]

He could be so short-sighted some times. Julia refrained from using the word dense, it didn't fit her father but the man could be entirely blind to the obvious. She held herself steady as he approached roar but stopped just short of it for now. That was probably about to change, she knew. His bad morning was about to turn worse.

"You underestimate her too much, Father," she retorted, shaking her head. "And yes, actually... I would be wasted as queen. You raised me to rule, not sit and look pretty, reduced to embroidery and charitable works. Because that's all the Carlisles allow their Queens to do. You saw that with Aunt Diana, why do you think it would be any different for me?" The very thought of spending her life in such pathetic pursuits made her nauseous. "I want to do something great, and the best way about it is to become Duchess of Twinport."

Her bombshell cast, Julia sat back and waited for the roar to come. Obviously, naming her as his heir hadn't occurred to him and wasn't likely to until she pointed out. Just because she was a woman didn't mean she was not as capable of running the duchy as her father. She was a great deal more capable than her cousins! All she had to do was persuade Daven of that.

[Lord Daven St. Claire]

Daven growled at her. It wasn't really a growl of anger, but frustration. He saw the look in her eye. It was plain that she disagreed with him on a number of levels. "Duchess?!" The word was blurted out in anger before he could think. However, rather than going on a truly draconic rage at her, he forced himself to a stand and moved away from the table. The window seemed like a safe place to stand. "Because that's how it's always been. The St. Claires were assured a place in the court, and had a position of at least some influence." Daven was clinging to an old tradition, and he knew it.

"And you know your cousins are going to rebel against this even harder than I am. It would make you a target. A target to harsh arguments, or even worse, rash actions." Daven didn't know if his siblings would actually attempt to murder his daughter, but the promise of power could be stupidly intoxicating. There was another matter he hadn't told her of, and he debated even doing so now. He had planned to search for another wife in court, in the hopes of getting a son.