Too right. Disinherited isn't a legal status. It's a lifestyle.
[ He gives a little flourish of his hand. The grin slips away a bit as he says - ]
It's all right, isn't it? That I don't really have anything to leave to you? Since I do not think that my beloved wife's family are going to change their minds and shower us with wealth any time soon.
You are not leaving, [ will come true if he says it enough, ] so there is no point anyway.
[ His hold on By’s arm hasn’t loosened. It certainly doesn’t loosen now. ]
Besides, I like you rakish and broke. It’s romantic. If you did ever come into your own money, you’d have to lose it immediately, or else lose your appeal.
Besides, I would actually be insufferable if I were wealthy.
[ He laughs a little, and smiles at Bastien as he says - ]
I've enough of the nobility's poison in me that if I hadn't drunk deep of poverty, I'd be a nasty and envenomed little thing. But the tonic of rubbing elbows with decent folk did cure me of it. Maybe the one thing I'm grateful to my father for.
[ is not disagreement about conjoint, only with the subject change. ]
You wouldn't be nasty and envenomed. I have seen what you were like when you were small— [ thanks, Crossroads ] —and heard enough about it to know you were always sweet and always concerned about people being mistreated. If you'd had money, it only would have meant you had more means to do something about it. A few days of poverty might be good for empathy, but a life of it is only good for desperation.
And maybe you would be a little snobby about some things, [ he admits, fairly, ] but I would have fixed you within a week of meeting you.
[ He both wants to protest this generous assessment and is immensely pleased by it. It is a distressing and wonderful thing, to be seen through to the quick. It is a horrible and pleasurable thing, to be loved to your soul. ]
Well, one week once you started working on the project. You'd spend three years being immensely irritated by me, first. I've seen how you interact with that sort of person. Remember Davide?
[ Bastien would pinch a handful of arse to compliment that swagger, if he were willing to let go of By’s arm to do it. He nudges in with his shoulder instead. ]
As long as it would take you to get around to showing off on your violin. So I don’t know.
[ How long could Byerly possibly stand to be in the presence of musicians without busting out the fiddle? ]
[ He misses them still. Even if they are probably too old and too slow to be climbing into windows anymore, trespassing in a garden or three now and then would be nice. ]
How long do you think it would have taken you to like me? Or to notice me at all, while you were busy spending all of your money fine clothes and food for orphans.
Only the finest of silks for the orphans. Just so.
The only reason I didn't like you at first - [ And an apologetic little grin at that, over the fact that there was ever any moment that he didn't like Bastien - ] Was because I thought you were such a snob. And the only reason I cared about that was because I felt so embarrassed to be the penniless Southern relation. With a few pennies, I wouldn't have been so defensive.
[ The little smile that lifts the corner of his mouth is full of loathing - for himself, for having put up with those terrible people, as much as it is for the terrible people themselves. ]
It would have been nice not to have licked those boots. It is infuriating that no justice has ever come to most of them.
[ He’s not surprised at himself, that he wants one. But later maybe he’ll be retroactively surprised that he was so ready and unabashed to say so, without hedging or trying to get a read on Byerly first or to avoid being teased. ]
For sometimes. Sometimes I would like people to be able to see that I have someone.
But that’s it. That’s as far as it goes. No vows in front of Chantry Mothers, I swear.
[ He's surprised at the unguarded swiftness of that answer. For a moment, he think it's a bit - yes, and an elephant named Bing-Bong - but the facetious answer doesn't come.
And so he ends up simply pleased that he asked. Pleased that he had the courage to bring half-sincerity to it. A ring. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ He gives a little flourish of his hand. The grin slips away a bit as he says - ]
It's all right, isn't it? That I don't really have anything to leave to you? Since I do not think that my beloved wife's family are going to change their minds and shower us with wealth any time soon.
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[ His hold on By’s arm hasn’t loosened. It certainly doesn’t loosen now. ]
Besides, I like you rakish and broke. It’s romantic. If you did ever come into your own money, you’d have to lose it immediately, or else lose your appeal.
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[ He laughs a little, and smiles at Bastien as he says - ]
I've enough of the nobility's poison in me that if I hadn't drunk deep of poverty, I'd be a nasty and envenomed little thing. But the tonic of rubbing elbows with decent folk did cure me of it. Maybe the one thing I'm grateful to my father for.
[ Then: ]
Conjoint isn't bad.
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[ is not disagreement about conjoint, only with the subject change. ]
You wouldn't be nasty and envenomed. I have seen what you were like when you were small— [ thanks, Crossroads ] —and heard enough about it to know you were always sweet and always concerned about people being mistreated. If you'd had money, it only would have meant you had more means to do something about it. A few days of poverty might be good for empathy, but a life of it is only good for desperation.
And maybe you would be a little snobby about some things, [ he admits, fairly, ] but I would have fixed you within a week of meeting you.
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Well, one week once you started working on the project. You'd spend three years being immensely irritated by me, first. I've seen how you interact with that sort of person. Remember Davide?
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[ asks Bastien with such disinterested lack of concern at his apparently faulty memory that it is clearly an insult rather than a genuine question.
Davide—Davide who still likely thinks Bastien likes him quite well, having been excluded from the microexpressions directed as his turned back. ]
But alright. One week after first being impressed by you. But that would not have taken three years.
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[ Obviously so. Davide was a decently good-looking fellow, in his Antivan way, but not like Byerly. ]
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[ Yes he can. ]
And since you are prettier than anyone.
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It's so good to have my qualities recognized.
[ Then - ]
How long would it have taken?
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As long as it would take you to get around to showing off on your violin. So I don’t know.
[ How long could Byerly possibly stand to be in the presence of musicians without busting out the fiddle? ]
Five minutes?
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Rude. Also, I know it'd take more than that. You don't fall that easily.
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He admits, ]
I didn’t like you at all for a month or so. If you’d been rich and snobby I might have held out for four times as long.
And that is only to like you, [ he clarifies, ] as a friend.
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[ He flutters his eyelashes at Bastien. ]
Also, the process was sped along by the crimes we did together - don't forget that. Rich Byerly wouldn't be doing crimes.
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[ He misses them still. Even if they are probably too old and too slow to be climbing into windows anymore, trespassing in a garden or three now and then would be nice. ]
How long do you think it would have taken you to like me? Or to notice me at all, while you were busy spending all of your money fine clothes and food for orphans.
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Only the finest of silks for the orphans. Just so.
The only reason I didn't like you at first - [ And an apologetic little grin at that, over the fact that there was ever any moment that he didn't like Bastien - ] Was because I thought you were such a snob. And the only reason I cared about that was because I felt so embarrassed to be the penniless Southern relation. With a few pennies, I wouldn't have been so defensive.
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[ He doesn’t mean himself. He means Byerly’s terrible cousin and his cousin’s terrible friends. ]
Maybe that would have balanced out the absence of crime.
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[ The little smile that lifts the corner of his mouth is full of loathing - for himself, for having put up with those terrible people, as much as it is for the terrible people themselves. ]
It would have been nice not to have licked those boots. It is infuriating that no justice has ever come to most of them.
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It isn't too late.
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[ Ah. He stops himself and laughs, suddenly a little self-aware, as he finishes the thought: ]
That's something M'sieur l'Ambassadeur couldn't do.
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But until then: ]
Conjoint, then? If someone needs and deserves to know and we don’t have time to recite entire poems.
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[ He likes it. It doesn't have the transactionality of husband, and it's odd. He likes the two of them being a little odd. ]
Do you want a ring?
[ It's half-facetious, but only half. ]
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[ He’s not surprised at himself, that he wants one. But later maybe he’ll be retroactively surprised that he was so ready and unabashed to say so, without hedging or trying to get a read on Byerly first or to avoid being teased. ]
For sometimes. Sometimes I would like people to be able to see that I have someone.
But that’s it. That’s as far as it goes. No vows in front of Chantry Mothers, I swear.
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And so he ends up simply pleased that he asked. Pleased that he had the courage to bring half-sincerity to it. A ring. ]
Not even prostitutes dressed as Chantry Mothers?
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Rowena might get a kick out of it. But not so much of a kick we wouldn’t need to pay her.
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Plain, or gaudy?
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