Sabriana, Rodilon, and Sarine
:Story::Sabriana::Rodilon::Sarine:
:Tripaldi Weyr

Rodilon sighed as he left the presence of Sabriana, striding down the hall toward his room. At twenty turns of age he felt himself mature and intelligent and cursed his parents everyday for their low rank. He always corrected himself quickly though, reminding himself that they had had no more choice in their birth than had he. But still he resented it. Had he been born a Lord rather than the nameless no-account he was he could have wished to take the hand of Sabriana in marriage. As it was he would not give up his romance with her, not for anything, though he knew they would never be allowed to wed, nor even to openly express their feelings for each other.

Rodilon sighed and slowed his pace, stopping momentarily to lean against a wall. He pressed his back to it and tipped his head up to stare blankly at the ceiling. He knew very well that the two of them trifled with each other’s hearts. One day both would be broken when Sabriana’s father chose from among the young Lords in the area. But at least they would have this short time of pleasure to look back on.

Shaking his head, Rodilon moved on before one of the drudges took notice of his sulky air and began gossiping. It would not do for anyone to even suspect he had formed an attachment. Sabriana and he had been friends since childhood and everyone’s suspicions would undoubtedly jump immediately to her. Should her father suspect...

Rodilon dared not complete that thought. He strode on down the corridor to his room and found his mother waiting in it. He sighed but pushed open the door and walked in, giving her a curt nod of greeting before seating himself by the window.

“Rodi!” cried his mother, with a joyous smile on her face. “There you are! I’ve been waiting for ages!”

“Forgive me mother,” he said, giving her no explanation. Nor did she expect any as she began to prattle away.

“You must change dear, those clothes will never do. Tonight will be such a wonderful occasion!” Tilona sighed gustily and looked at him in surprise. “Why, Rodi, get up and get dressed! You haven’t time to waste!”

“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you speak, Mother,” he said and continued to stare moodily out the window.

“Why, have not you heard?” she asked, fairly bursting with the delight in being able to inform someone of her news. “Tonight Lord Ardente and his son Ardan come to meet the lady Sabriana. Surely you must realize her father means this to be her match.”

Rodilon went stiff in his chair, turning his head to regard his mother in shock and dismay. Belatedly he smoothed his features to indifference. “And what care I for such affairs?”

“Oh, Rodi, how you try my nerves!” said Tilona, smacking his arm in frustration. “This is your chance to shine as well, my boy! It is said that Lord Ardente’s steward is grown old and feeble and he wishes to replace him with a man about his son’s age.”

“And this affects me in some way?”

“Rodi! Do not be a fool. Surely you must see that I am thinking of your being his steward. What an honor that would be!” Tilona heaved a delighted sigh and went back to bustling about the room, arranging his clothes for the evening.

Rodilon said nothing, simply contemplating the possibility. Truly being a steward would be an honor indeed and would elevate his family’s rank somewhat. But how insupportable would it be to be steward to his love’s husband? But then again how could he bare to be parted from her? He sighed and rubbed absently at his temples. Before long his mother had finished laying out his clothes and left, giving him strict instructions on how best to prepare for the evening. Obviously the woman wished him to try his hardest at this, and though he resented her manners and her class he did not wish to dishonor her.

Rodilon heaved a sigh as he stood and dressed for the evening.

Continue...