The peace that formerly reigned in Terra Nova has eroded, now little more than a memory. War ravages the continent. Disputes divide kingdoms; ideals divide families. The quest for power consumes absolutely and indiscriminately. None are immune to its allure.
Who will rise and who will fall? Only time—and ambition—will tell.
UPDATES
05.26.2023
2 month character creation hold for all existing members begins 6/5/2023. Ended 8/5/2023.
10.29.2023
Change in how times flows. Was 4 IC seasons, now only 2 IC seasons per 1 OOC year.
5 whole years of Heir Apparent goodness! When I started the site, I knew I was hunkering down for the long haul, but I never could have predicted the numerous twists and turns this roleplay site has seen. Hundreds of plots, characters, and members have come and gone, all leaving marks on the site. I am so very thankful for those who have invested. Because you keep coming back, keep getting on, and keep writing, Heir Apparent has the legacy it does today. Three cheers to us!
Post by Edith Byron on Nov 18, 2022 13:53:54 GMT -5
It had become less tense between the three of them but Gunne still wasn't able to shake the feeling that she couldn't let her guard down. There wasn't a conflict right now, but she was aware of how short Berengars responses had been. They were now talking about little nothings, nothing important. Just about animals. She had said Ber was good with Artos. Temperance explained how the two had spent quite some time together. "It's nice that Berengar helps you with Artos." She smiled at them before she turned her attention to Tempy, who had asked her a question. The woman shook her head. "Apart from my two little monkeys at home, I don't have pets. Horses, but you know." She shrugged slightly. She didn't really care for those horses as pets, they were just animals to her.
The brunette took another sip of her tea and then swiftly got up from her chair. "Excuse me, thank you so much for the tea and the company, but I'm afraid I'll have to get going." She lifted the corners of her mouth to offer them a little smile. "I should get back home to take care of Ruben and Timea."
Temperance hadn't expect Gunne to get up so suddenly. She immediately worried that the noble had been less understanding of her earlier words than Temperance had initially thought, but there was little she could do about it now. "Oh, alright," she said, standing up as well. "Please be safe getting back home, and tell the children hello for me?" Temperance said. "Thank you for stopping by!"
As Gunne left, Melody caught sight of her and waved. "Have a blessed day, Lady Cortell!" She called out, then went back to her gardening.
Back inside the Greenhouse, Temperance sighed and sat back down. Sipping at her tea, she looked across the desk at Ber and then down at Artos. Her worried frown was turned almost immediately upside down by the sight of the pups belly, his paws up in the air as he rolled over. "That was quite the quick exit," she said, looking at Ber. "Berengar, it is not my business what happened between you and Lady Cortell," she began, setting her teacup down then. "But I hope we can find a way to resolve it. Though I suppose you were doing your best, it's she who left so soon."
She sighed. "She had quite the temper with me when we first met, but I find that she's quite warm once you get to know her. She's been put into an odd position in life, despite her priviledge. I'm sure we could find common ground but of course I wouldn't force you."
Ber couldn’t say he was sad to see Lady Cortell leave, even if it had been rather abrupt and clearly caught Temperance by surprise. Propriety demanded that he stand as well, and he did so rather reluctantly, offering a slight bow and a polite “Have a good day, Lady Cortell,” that he would have bet his week’s earnings went ignored. No matter. She was a noblewoman, and if he knew one reality about life in Skia, it was that those with wealth had no obligation to pay any mind to those without. After sitting back down, he sipped at his tea as Temperance returned to her seat as well.
When she spoke, he turned slightly to better face her. “It was,” He agreed, not feeling particularly apologetic for any role he might have played in inadvertently encouraging it. “And it’s not like anything happened.” Temperance had clearly noticed the contention between him and the noblewoman, and while he did not regret Lady Cortell’s departure, he did feel a bit guilty about how it had cut short an afternoon tea that the apothecary had seemed ready to enjoy. “It’s just she’s a noble.“
And Ber, most certainly, was not. The soldier shrugged and took another sip of his tea. He didn’t make any promises to attempt to resolve matters with Lady Cortell - ideally, he would never run into the woman again and that would be that - but he also didn’t voice his skepticism toward Temperance’s claim of the other woman’s warmth and ability to find common ground. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and asked a tangential question. “How did you two meet?”
Once they were settled back down, Edith jumped into the seat that Gunne had been occupying. She curled and her tail fell off the side of the chair, and Artos took full advantage of this. Like a toy dangling in front of his face, he hurried over and began to nip at it, bat it with his paws, and try to bite it much too aggressively. This obviously drew Edith's attention. She moved her head to the edge of the chair, looking down at the puppy, and every time he tried to grab her tail, she lifted it up out of his reach. It became a little game to them for a few minutes.
Temperance let his comment about her nobility go. She understood very well. Even as part of one of the more wealthy commoner families, Temperance had seen her fair share of judgement from the nobles. When she'd just come of age and her father was doing his best to show her off, he'd even tried to convince a few of the lower nobility to set up courting matches with she and their sons. They had all looked down their noses at him. For some time Temperance had felt insecure about that - thinking that the problem was with her, that she wasn't good enough. But she realized later in life that the issue was never her. She could have been the most beautiful woman, the most talented Witch, and she still never would have been good enough for a Nobles son. That was just the way of their world.
So Ber feeling that Lady Cortell was simply a part of the world he would never have access to made perfect sense. Their paths had crossed and perhaps she had said something out of the way or done something rude. It wouldn't have been entirely off of Gunne's radar. So when he asked how the two of them had met, Temperance smiled. She took another sip of her tea, then put it down, and looked at him with a warm smile. "She accused me of stealing her customers," she said without an ounce of care about.
"An older man had been going to her for some time, but when he began having money trouble, he had to find potions elsewhere and began coming to me. When she found out, she was a little confused and approached me about it directly. Which I find to be quite refreshing for nobility," she said, her smile growing. "Many of them would rather ruin your life behind your back. Lady Cortell could have easily spread a rumor or two and ruined my business completely, but instead she came to me to handle it herself. I think she's very different from other nobles in that way. She's honest and direct, and when she makes mistakes, she owns up to them in her own way. Since then we've become friends. She was formally a Morrigan and much of her family was killed during the...changing of the Crown, including her parents."
Ber blinked at Temperance over the rim of his teacup. “She accused you of stealing customers… so you became friends?” He reiterated, unable to stop the incredulity from entering his voice. The soldier had figured that the woman sitting beside him had a more generous heart than most - she’d bought him food, after all, then invited him to her home and continued doing so - but it struck him that even her reaction to Lady Cortell seemed very forgiving. Given his own response to the far briefer and less potentially devastating interaction he’d had with the noblewoman, Ber knew that he was hardly so magnanimous when it came to judging the character of others, but he didn’t think his more conservative views were unjustified. Why ought he feel grateful to someone for not spreading lies about him behind his back when exercising such restraint was expected of him every day?
“She’s definitely direct,” He allowed, thinking of her immediate prejudice against commoners, which bothered him even if it was to be expected. “And honest.” Did Temperance know that Lady Cortell thought that no commoner ever did anything out of the goodness of their heart? Even now, the memory had tension winding its way across his shoulders because across from him sat the most obvious contradiction to that claim - a woman with whom the noblewoman was apparently friends - and yet… Though he was willing to judge Temperance’s choice in friends, Ber wasn’t willing to ruin the relationships for her, at least any more than he already inadvertently had, so he said nothing except, “I knew she was a Morrigan, but I didn’t know about her parents. That’s sad.” Forgive him if he didn’t cry, though.
"Yes, of course!" Temperance said with a smile, as if Ber should think any different. Temperance wasn't exactly one to make enemies. Even those who came to her with ill-intent or negative thoughts often left with a much different idea of the situation. It was just in Temperance's nature. "I can be stern when I wish to be, but I find in the case of misunderstandings, it's much more advantageous to put myself in someone else's shoes. We all let our emotions get the best of us. We all judge others too quickly sometimes, or make assumptions that are not true. I prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt. Melody sometimes thinks I'm letting people walk all over me in doing so, and maybe I am. But what has it earned me?" She gestured to the greenhouse.
"I have everything I need and I'm content in who I am and what I do. When I lay down at night, I do not think of silly arguments I might have had with the noble lady who accused me of stealing her customers. Instead, I'm happy to have made a friend that I can rely on. I recently realized one of my plants had died and I had missed out on buying the seeds from the market to replant them. I needed the seeds badly because they're an ingredient I rely on in Hiems. Lady Cortell had some and was kind enough to give them to me. Had I argued with her, I would have been in trouble next season."
His admissions to her comments didn't sound as positive as she had made them out to be. Ber's views of the nobility and in turn Lady Cortell couldn't be helped. Whatever she had done had left a bad taste in his mouth, and Temperance could hardly blame him for that. "Although it's true that we have to jump through hoops just to be treated the same way that the nobility expect to be treated at all times, we can still find commonalities, Berengar. And better yet, I like to have friendships like this to prove to them why all their thoughts on commoners are wrong. Proving them wrong is one of the best things we can do to the nobility, if you ask me. It costs nothing, teaches them everything, and changes outlooks. And at the end of the day, which of us do you think felt badly about how they acted? Well, it wasn't me." She smiled. "They think there is nothing we can teach them, but I like to show them how wrong they are."
Temperance spoke of an empthay that Ber had neither much expected nor experienced in his life. As she explained her perspective, he found himself agreeing silently with Melody: well-intentioned though it was, the witch was letting people walk all over her. In his experience, giving others the benefit of the doubt was a good way to lose what little he might have managed to scavenge for himself. The streets of Skia liked to take and take, and the people who most frequently occupied their various alleyways and thoroughfares were no different. Once someone was viewed as soft, they were never allowed to become anything more than the easy target for the bullies and truly desperate alike. And Temperance's empathy, for all that it may have brought her a peace of mind, was soft.
"People will take advantage of that," Ber felt the need to point out, even though he was sure she'd already heard it from Melody at least once. "If not Lady Cortell--" He could admit that she had helped Temperance with the seeds, though he thought that experience an exception to the norm "--then someone else. And people like that don't stop once they know they can get what they want from someone." Especially if it was freely handed to them with a smile. And he highly doubted they went back to their homes at night and felt remotely bad about it. In all fairness, not all of the untrustworthy individuals he interacted with on the streets were nobles, but selfishness was the same regardless of birth. They did not see life-changing generosity in Temperance's actions because they weren't even looking for it; they merely saw a commoner or a witch giving them what they were owed.
And if he was honest, the thought of smiling at them and giving them exactly what they wanted, despite their disrespect, rankled.
Swallowing down some of his incredulity with the tea, he took a moment to consider his next words. Temperance was kind and good, and in a way it was admirable, if not horrifyingly naive, that she was so willing to see the best in everyone. Ber himself had certainly benefited from it. But he didn't want to see her get hurt, and he didn't want others taking advantage of her, because her heart was many times bigger than those of the people around her. She deserved better than that. "I don't know," He finally said, unwilling to voice the depths of his disagreement with her perspective. "You're a very kindhearted person, Temperance, and I guess if anyone could change their minds it's you." If only because she was the only one who would try. "But I don't think they're very good at learning much of anything."
His words saddened her. Not because he disagreed with her, but because that opinion had been hard earned. Temperance knew that she was only the way she was because of how she grew up. With much more privileged than Ber, she had the space to give people the benefit of the doubt. To believe in them even if they didn't want her to. To try to make people better. Ber had never been afforded something like that. His life had been hard. Many of the people on the streets were not cruel because they were born that way. They were cruel because life had forced them to be. Had Ber not taken a liking to the military, he might have ended up like one of them. So she understood.
"Yes, people do take advantage of it," she confirmed. "And I'm not blind to it. I see it in the very moment it happens. It's funny, Berengar, because you and Lady Cortell pointed out the same thing." Another way that she insisted on pointing out their commonalities. "When I make potions for people, I only ask them to pay what they can. If I enforced a standard price and marketed my work to only those who could pay, I might have been able to buy into the nobility by now."
That was the truth. Her eldest brother was close, but Temperance had been working solidly for a few years longer than he had. Temperance's kindness, her hard work, and the quality of her work would have moved her up quickly. It might have only granted her into the lowest of the nobility, but if that was what she truly wanted, she could have had it.
"As you know, many of my patients are elderly commoners. Sometimes they pay half, sometimes only a single coin, a penny. But I treat others. Addicts, who would rather spend their money on another fix. The man I chased down in the tavern the day I met you is one of them. I've been trying to get him clean for years. He's only paid me a few times. But I think...it is people like that who need kindness and understanding the most. They are that way because someone, whether it be a single person or the collective of Nevermere, has made them that way. When they leave here everything they see is ugly and unkind. Maybe they'll never change, but at least I tried."
She shrugged, her eyes scanning his face. The topic made her a little sad. He was right. She couldn't help everyone, couldn't change everyone. But she could think of a few patients who had changed throughout the course of coming to her. Whether it be directly because of her or not didn't matter. That they had improved at all was all that mattered.
"I have a feeling I know why Lady Cortell left. Do you want to know?" She asked, pouring herself another cup of tea and dashing it with some more milk and two cubes of sugar. Something in her voice changed, became more serious, unrelenting.
"While you were inside, I told her that she was not to treat you any differently than she would me. That while I enjoyed her friendship, I did not want whatever had happened between the two of you to be brought here. You have no home of your own, and if this is to be your in-between home, you are to be comfortable here. I will allow absolutely no one to come here and make you feel lesser because you're a commoner. If she could not accept that, she needed to leave." She took a sip of her fresh cup of tea. "She agreed, but I think she felt a bit uncomfortable when things continued to be a little tense. Plus, I'm sure she's not quite used to commoners speaking to her that way. But what will she do? This is my home, and you were both my guests. I was not out of line."
The point, then, as she sat her teacup down, was this: "When I feel the need to stand up against those who might take advantage of my kindness, I do so. I've been fooled before, and I lost my entire garden and greenhouse because of it. Rebuilding it took a lot of time. I will not make that mistake again. My kindness is not careless, in fact I'm quite careful with it, and I do not consider it a weakness."
Even as she acknowledged his point, Ber couldn’t help the small frown that crossed his face as she compared him to Lady Cortell. He didn’t like her, so as a matter of principle, he didn’t like to think that he had anything in common with her – let alone that they had apparently issued the same warning to Temperance. He finished his tea and simply sat there, empty mug in hand, as he listened to her talk. When she had finished explaining her mindset toward charging her customers, he returned her shrug with a slightly more dubious one of his own. “I guess.”
Temperance was empathetic in a way that Ber could never afford to be. Too concerned with his own survival, he had never had any reason – nor, to be fair, the inclination – to give much thought to the well-being of others in general. While he didn’t necessarily wish harm on them, he also did not make the habit of going out of his way to help strangers, and he certainly never cared enough to try to change them. When Temperance’s customers left her greenhouse, everything they saw was ugly and unkind because the world was ugly and unkind. It was harsh and unforgiving and it broke the compassionate few who stopped to help others just as easily as it broke those who needed the help. It was noble, what she did, but he had long since abandoned the idea of attempting to emulate any ideals.
Ber didn’t particularly care why Lady Cortell left as much as he was relieved that she had, but because Temperance seemed to want to share her thoughts, he nodded his agreement. The answer to her question, however, caught him completely off guard.
Something small and warm flickered to life in his chest, a tentative glow that was as unfamiliar as it was fragile. Even after such a short period of time wherein he’d done nothing but shared a few meals with them and played with her dog, the depth of her regard for him was such that she would rise to his defense, even against a friend. And her determination to provide him with a place to feel comfortable, a home of sorts – he glanced away, eyebrows furrowing slightly as something, a new emotion that he could not name but felt dangerous for how deeply it pierced him, welled up suddenly inside him.
It stole his words from him, leaving him flailing in unfamiliar territory, but as she made her point, he could feel it subsiding enough for his gaze to flick momentarily back to hers. He had heard the conviction in her tone and saw the resolve in her expression as she spoke of being kind but not careless. There would be no changing her mind. “Just – Just keep being careful,” Ber said finally, following it up a moment later with a quiet, “Thank you, but you don’t have to do that for me. I don’t want to get between you and your friends.” It was appreciated, but not… necessary. As much as he wanted to hope that Temperance, Thom, Artos, and Melody would become fixtures in his life, he knew how fleeting the good parts could be. Better that he try not to get too attached and that she not burn any bridges.
But the way she had possibly done just that, without even knowing the full story, made him feel as though he ought to at least offer to tell her what had happened. “I can tell you how Lady Cortell and I met, if you want,” Ber said, hesitant.
It was important to Temperance that she make people understand that last point about herself. Too many times she had heard it, and it drove her absolutely mad. You're too kind and people will take advantage of you. You can't just let anyone in like that and they don't care about you like you care about them. None of that mattered to Temperance. She wanted her kindness to be given to anyone whom she deemed fit, and that was most people. And if they did something to devalue that kindness, she could take it away just as swiftly, and had no problem doing so. Too many people thought kindness to be a weakness, but she had used it to heal so many others that she was no longer capable of understanding it.
The truth of it was that some people were weak willed and some people were strong willed. Those with weak wills, no matter kind or simple or uneducated or physically frail, would be taken advantage of. Many people with weak wills were kind simply because they had no other choice. Because they didn't know what else they could be and therein rested the problem. No one would doubt the kindness of a knight and call it a chink in his armor, but a knight with a weak will could be taken advantage of as easily as a child.
Temperance would never be confused with a knight, but she had a strong will and she chose to be kind.
"If you would like to tell me what happened, Berengar, I am happy to listen and I will not make excuses for Lady Cortell," Temperance answered. "But if you would prefer not to tell me, that is okay too. It wouldn't be right of me to make you feel obligated, and you should never feel like you have to tell me anything you don't want to. Whatever you're comfortable with, I'm happy with." She sat her cup down on the desk, leaning back in the chair with a little bit of a huff. She pulled a green ribbon from around her wrist, one Thomas had gotten her very early on in their relationship, and used it to tie her hair into a low-hanging ponytail, though strands that were too short remained hanging by her face. "We could simply talk about how exhausting the nobility can be, if you like. I'm not so nice that I can't do a little complaining, that's for sure."
Ber wavered. His hesitation was less that he wanted to protect Lady Cortell’s reputation and more that he didn’t want to potentially start a fight between Temperance and her friend. Even if he hadn’t been the one to tell it, he knew that the encounter wouldn’t paint Lady Cortell in a kind light. But if that bridge had possibly already been burned…? He couldn’t predict how this afternoon would impact the two women’s friendship, but if Temperance’s defense of him came up again, perhaps it would be better to make sure she was fully informed.
Scratching the back of his neck, Ber started, “We did meet in the market. I found her necklace on the ground and returned it to her.” A slight hesitation. “One of her children, the girl, asked if I stole it. Lady Cortell said I could have and then accused me of trying to extort her for money, saying I wouldn’t give it back to her unless she paid me.” Ber looked away, directing his gaze toward the teapot. When have commoners ever done something out of the goodness of their hearts? Lady Cortell had said that, even though she knew Temperance. He thought he ought to still keep that to himself. “I told her that wasn’t necessary, and she threw some coins on the ground for me to pick up.”
With a sigh, he looked back at the witch. “She was nicer after she found out I was a soldier. Apparently, her husband used to be one, and her son wants to enlist when he’s old enough.” Morrigans, however, didn’t join the military. Morrigans didn’t have to join the military. He shrugged. “It’s not like she was horrible or anything.” Nobles acted like that all the time; that’s just how they were. “It’s just…” Unable to find the words to describe why the accusation felt so uncalled for despite the way he should have expected it, he shrugged again. “I wasn’t expecting to see her here today.” Or ever.
It hurt Temperance, genuinely, to hear Ber recount the story of what happened with Lady Cortell. On the one hand, many people expected most nobles to act in such a way. It was an expectation based in reality. Commoners were looked down upon, always treated with suspicious or disdain. It might have even been part of her own first interaction with Gunne, who thought that Temperance had poached a customer from her with the promise of cheaper potions. Gunne had also, in no specific manner, called Temperance cowardly for choosing not to involve herself in politics. Something that the commoner had reminded Gunne was not really much of an option for most commoners. They could consider politics all they wanted, but in the end, they had no hand in it. They had no voice. Especially female commoners. When female members of the nobility could not even openly speak in court, how did Gunne Cortell expect the commoners to do so?
On the other hand, though, Temperance had exercised quite a lot of patience and in the end, she had made a valuable friend and gotten to know Gunne better. She didn't feel like Gunne's inability to see the world through lenses any other than her own was necessarily her fault. It was how she was raised, and what she knew was expected of her. That was hardly an excuse to belittle people or treat them badly, but it was another piece of the puzzle that one had to put together to understand how a person came to be.
"Thank you for telling me," Temperance said quietly, meeting his eyes when he once more felt comfortable enough to do so. "I hope you understand that whatever comes of this, whether or not Lady Cortell and I continue being friends, none of it would be your fault. I like to think that she would understand why I said what I said to her, especially given what you've just told me. I've known her to be a woman who can recognize her mistakes when she's made them, even if she's not quite capable of putting herself into the shoes of others."
It was difficult to consider the feelings of both sides, especially when one side was so obviously in the wrong. Ber had done nothing to deserve such treatment from Gunne, and while it did anger Temperance, she knew that nothing positive would come of such rage. "If I'm being honest with you, Berengar, your story does upset me. Maybe because I've gotten to know Lady Cortell, and I know that she's better than that. But I must remind myself that you and I are very different. I may be a commoner, but I won't pretend like we're the same. My family is fairly well known and respect. We're well off for commoners. I only have my home and greenhouse because my parents bought it for me. I'm only a well-respect apothecary because my mother, and my grandmother before her, both were as well." She frowned, shoulders dipping.
"More often than not, those things work in my favor. It is likely no different for my friendship with Lady Cortell. But that doesn't change my feelings toward her. I think she has the potential to become a much more understanding individual, and perhaps her interactions with me, and now you, will help her to understand that just like all nobles are not the same, all commoners are not the same. But that remains to be seen, doesn't it? Unfortunately, generational habits are very hard to break and nobles come from very old families. From childhood they are told they are better than us. They are entitled to better simply by way of being born into the right family."
It wasn't fair by any means, but it was certainly true and while Temperance could not deny it, she knew that Berengar knew it to be true as well. That was how their society had been shaped, but they could manage to make small changes, in their own ways. "One person proving that knowledge wrong is merely an exception. Lady Cortell found me, a commoner who she was surprised she could relate to, and I became that exception. It's not that all commoners aren't lesser, it's just that I somehow managed to be above the rest, right?" She shook her head. "Two, though, begins to form a pattern. She met you, and despite knowing me still expected the worse of you, and you proved her wrong. And the reason why it might be so extremely uncomfortable for us as well is not only because we know she was wrong, but because we know that had it not been you, but someone else, she might have been right. Not all commoners are good, like you and I, just like not all nobles are bad. We're all people of circumstance. But you know what I quite liked about your story?"
Her smile slowly returned, thinking of Gunne's children. They were such sweet, lovely little things. "Ruben and Timea met you, a commoner that at least one of them found relatable, and they also witnessed their mother being wrong. Children are more perceptive than we give them credit for. I'm sure they will have learned from that experience, and in the future when they are adults and a similar situation arises before them, maybe they will not treat the commoner as negatively."
Ber nodded, holding her gaze for a moment before glancing away, though he let himself be quietly reassured by her words. Temperance may have held the noblewoman in higher esteem, but he still wasn’t sure how understanding Lady Cortell would be of the entire situation. Before her abrupt departure, she might have been cordial to him, but he had treated her with the same politeness. Plastering on a fake smile hardly indicated genuine caring or understanding of a different perspective.
If he had learned one thing from this entire afternoon, it was that Temperance had a lot more faith in the goodness of humanity and those around her than Ber did. Perhaps it was the differences in their upbringings, which the soldier did not often consider but could very clearly see the contrasting circumstances that she pointed out. Temperance’s relative affluence and reputation were the products of generations of work. Ber himself had fought for what little he had. In the hierarchy of commoners, even Temperance was far above him.
But did such details truly matter to a noble? He still doubted that anyone in Nevermere’s high society would give a commoner any more thought than strictly necessary. Certainly no one would consider the morality of their actions as Temperance seemed to think they would. People, especially those who had been set in their ways for generations, didn’t change just because they’d encountered two commoners who didn’t live up to the expectations of being selfish scoundrels. And though he wasn’t about to contradict the witch’s assumption of him, Ber found that he didn’t really care about the prospect of Lady Cortell running into a commoner more morally bankrupt than himself.
Temperance’s expression softened as she spoke of Ruben and Timea. He did not share her confidence that a single interaction out of a lifetime of interactions would have such an impact on them and their worldviews, even if he and the boy, Ruben, had found something of a common ground. However, Ber had started to suspect that this would be another matter – or perhaps just a different manifestation of their differing views of the world – on which they might very well never see eye to eye. With that in mind, instead of arguing, he merely sighed and said, “I hope you’re right.” He would consider it a pleasant surprise if she was. After a brief pause, the soldier glanced at Temperance and added, “You probably expected a nicer afternoon than this. We can talk about something else, if you want.”
She could see that his mind wasn't going to change so easily, and that was the same truth that she spoke of in regard to Lady Cortell. A noble was not going to change their view of commoners until enough commoners worked to change that view, but the opposite was true of people like Ber. Until more nobles offered him kindness and acceptance instead of suspicion and cruelty, he had no reason to change his mind. Temperance was merely a small piece on the board, but as long as she had the power to try and change the minds of both sides, she would work at it. Consistency is key to many things in life, and this was no different. "Yes, I hope so, too. But I may very well be wrong, so it's nice to have someone like you around to remind me that my perspective of the world is not the only perspective. I suppose being cooped up in my greenhouse all day, my thoughts just bounce around the walls and come right back to me." She said, smirking somewhat.
Only a slight frown crossed her face when he spoke as if the afternoon had been unpleasant. Her lips protruded somewhat, she shrugged, and shook her head. "Oh, stars, I think this has all been quite nice, actually. Unpleasant conversations must be had sometimes, but as long as we can share our thoughts with one another and be civil, there's no reason to avoid it. We're learning about each other, and even if the topic can be a bit awkward to express, it's good to know how people feel about these kinds of things. How else would we learn? That said," she gathered all the teacups and their saucers up, neatly placing them on the tray beside the teapot now that they were both finished. "I do feel we've exhausted this particular topic, so what shall we move on to, then? Do you mind if I work while we talk?"
Standing up from her chair, she returned to the potions she'd been working on when Gunne had first arrived and their tea-time had interrupted her. "Hm, I would ask you if there are any women you're interested in pursuing, but I'm not sure you'd be comfortable having that discussion with me quite yet." She looked into the basket she'd been using to gather ingredients in earlier, transferring some of them into the heavy stone mortar that Thomas had gifted her. "Oh, would you mind plucking two pedals off of those purple flowers over there and bringing them to me?" She asked, motioning to the flowers in question in the corner of the greenhouse.
"I suppose a better question would be are you interested at all in pairing with a witch? Witch-paired soldier teams are encouraged, aren't they? At least, they were when I was going through my mandatory six. I was never quite talented enough for all of that," she said with a tone of exasperation. "Or perhaps I just didn't like the idea of having to control another persons intentions. A summoned creature is one thing, but a man is another. Exerting one's will over anyone is a bit strange, though I understand the necessity of it. How do you feel about it?"
Temperance may have enjoyed ruminating on the nature of nobility, but Ber was less inclined to find such topics enjoyable, despite what educational value the conversation might have. He did not often think - nor did he often care - about what most people around him felt about life and their lot in it; their opinions were their own, and as long as they did not affect him, it was easier to let that be their business rather than his. Moving on, however, sounded wonderful, and he readily agreed to it, adding that she could certainly work while they talked.
Her immediate follow-up had him freezing in his seat, an embarrassed flush rising to his face. “Uh,” Ber said intelligently, wondering if perhaps they ought to return to talking about nobles after all. Luckily, Temperance was not willing to pursue that line of conversation any further, and as he placed his teacup down on the table, he used the short walk to the purple flowers to compose himself again. By the time he was crossing back across the greenhouse to hand them to her, she had started asking about witch-paired soldiers. That was something he was infinitely more willing to discuss.
“I think they’re always looking for more paired soldiers,” Ber agreed, giving her the petals and lingering by the workbench. “Need help with anything?” If she gave him a task to do, he would start it before continuing the conversation with a shrug. “A witch and a werewolf can do a lot more damage than a witch and a man with a sword.” They were more durable, too, but Temperance was right: controlling such a beast required skill above that of the average witch. It was… disconcerting to consider that he had a latent curse within him that could be activated by someone else without his consent. And it was even worse to think about how it not only would turn him into a dangerous, nearly uncontrollable creature, but that he would also have no recollection as to what had happened while he’d been transformed.
Becoming a paired soldier was the military’s endorsement of someone’s competence and reliability - a point of prestige - so why did the thought of actually shifting into a werewolf and losing himself fill him with more trepidation than a sense of accomplishment?
“I don’t— I don’t know,” He admitted, something of a response to both of her unanswered questions. Shifting slightly where he stood, he scratched the back of his neck. “I haven’t thought about it much. They usually want soldiers to have more experience before they’re paired, so…” A shrug. He suspected he had a few years, at least, before he had to truly consider whether he’d want to be paired with a witch.