RHYERS - An Apology & A Hope for Less Emotional Company
Marshall Manse, Mane Country
“Is she still upset with me?” Rhyers asked hesitantly. Swirling brown liquid in the glass cradled in his palms, between his knees.
I’d rather not visit her if she’s still wounded.
“You haven’t been here in a long time.” Samuel sighed. Sitting in the chair opposite Rhyers who dominated the white settee. Sam leaned forward to refill Rhyers’ glass of port.
There’s a reason for that. Rhyers watched him filling it warily. He’s going to say something I’m not going to like…And he knows it.
“I was trying to keep them away from her.” Rhyers explained.
“I know that. But would some explanation have killed you?”
What in tarnation would I say?
“I did tell you.” Rhyers defended weakly.
Samuel gave him a reprimanding look. “To Ebony.”
Rhyers’ nose wrinkled.
“You hurt her feelings.”
Everything hurts her feelings…
“What would you have me do?” Rhyers tossed his arms and slumped back to the plush cushions.
“She’s my sister. My only family. Couldn’t you be kinder?”
If I was any softer with her, I’d be a feather pillow. Rhyers lifted a fine dark brow. Finally sighing he gestured animatedly to his face and chest. “Does this strike you as spilling over with gentility?”
“You feign it well.” Sam grunted.
“I feign being haughty and bored well…” He corrected. “What is it you hope I’ll do?”
“Apologize?” Rhyers drug out the word. Voice shrill, even to his ears.
“Yes.” Sam’s brows lowered.
“Fine.” Disgust marred his features.
“Ebony!” Sam yelled. Summoning the girl from upstairs.
What’s he doing?
“Right now?” Rhyers looked pitiful. Setting his glass on the table as though contemplating fleeing Marshall Manse.
“Now is good.”
No, it’s not!
“But I was enjoying my drink.” He frowned. Looking from Sam to the glass and back again.
And I won’t once tears start!
“You can enjoy my fine port whilst you apologize.”