Lys: Offense

Who or what Terence was, Cathair did not know, but he gathered that he was forgiven. He cracked a wry smile. "You certainly do well at the drama, yourself, walking out as though plotting someone's demise..." It came together in his mind as he said it. They had not taken offense for themselves, but for their lord. "Don't mind Aithne. She had no idea she was being offensive until Lord Artos ignored her. I am not sure if she yet knows it fully." He paused a moment before continuing.

"Aithne is accustomed to having her questions answered fully and thoroughly. If Lord Artos had been one of our clansman, it would have been he who was rude. To deny someone understanding of a matter, especially a bard, is equivalent to spitting in the person's face, or worse. So to her mind, it is Lord Artos who has made the offense." He sighed. "She is trying hard, even if it may not seem like it." We both are. "It is a different way of living. God willing, she will get the hang of it soon." He gave another wry smile.


Aithne sat in the solarium only a few moments longer. The tension did not dissipate, and she felt the need for a different outlet. She strode purposefully from the room, to the garden, and from there to the stable-yard. She could not ride Concordia without first gaining permission, but Cathair had managed to retrieve his pony, and had found another for her amongst the riderless. She found Solas easily, and began preparing for a ride, all the while speaking to the horse in her own Gael. It felt good on her tongue, and between that and the horse's presence, she found the tension easing.

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