“What think you?”
Erik grimaces. “She is fair of face, yes, but a dullard. There appears to be little more than air between her ears.”
These ladies of honour and society gather, as they always do, like carrion having caught the putrid scent of a corpse; to a bachelor such as Erik they are an irritant and nothing more.
“That seems harsh,” Raven says, though secretly she is in agreement. The Lady Salvadore, attractive though she is, is a cold woman of cruelty, and her attentions seemingly flit from suitor to suitor quicker than a hummingbird. She would make a changeable wife where Erik needs stability.
Erik is distracted; Raven’s no fool. The jester from the ball had caught his eye and now he wallows in self pity.
“What need do I have of a wife?” he snaps.
“To give you an heir,” Raven answers.
He sighs, knuckles white as bone. He has slept fitfully since the jester left him with nought but a kiss and a broken heart, and any effort at finding him has proved fruitless. A wife, a wife! Who needs a wife, when he desires a husband?
“Someone to wear my jewels and spend my money,” he mutters, and Raven huffs a laugh, amused. Such dramatics, and when he glares at her sullenly she merely flutters a hand in the air; nonchalant.
“This man of yours, this jester, has you tied up in knots-”
“-and yet you’ve done little to find him. Oh, you’ve eyed the courtiers, I’ve seen you, but have you thought, perhaps, that your desired one is not a blue blood?” Raven cocks her head, adjusting her ivory dress. “Perhaps not even a noble.”
“Don’t say it. I’d be a laughing stock.”
“Would that matter?”
Would it? Ah, but it would. Although... he is to take a bride soon, of course, to secure the bloodline, but to take a mistress, well, that is to be expected is it not?
Raven rolls her eyes. He is much too transparent to her, his dearest and oldest friend, like glass.
“A mistress Erik, really? I sincerely doubt the poor man would appreciate-”
Erik huffs, waving her off. It is a plan, or at the very least the beginnings of one, and he has many more ladies to entertain. His heart swells. A wife, yes, and an heir; but a jester in his bed is a delightful thought indeed.