The Rose Gardens

It had escaped his notice that Desdemona shifted away from him. Though, part of that had been due to the fact that Yorick decided his charade with the book could be dispensed for now. She seemed a woman of few words... a sign to him that possible quarrels would be few and far between. Their union wouldn't exactly be a love match, he knew, but it would be good for the both of them in the long run. Better for him than her, but that didn't bother the Baron any.

A graying eyebrow rose as she willingly initiated further conversation. "Is that so?" Yorick asked, and then chuckled at her request to speak as she wished. "I do not mind at all, and assure you that I have heard nearly everything..." he replied with a hearty wink of suggestion. "Of what do you wish to speak about?" Yorick inquired in as pleasant a voice as he could, shifting to be closer and placing an arm around the back of the bench.

"Your predecessor, were she alive, would confirm that despite my age and occasional flaws I am quite the gentle and passionate husband, indeed, if you catch my meaning... in the event that is what worries you," he half-lied in a soft, emotion-tinged voice.

Desdemona was under the impression that the Baron enjoyed the sound of his own voice, with his verbosity, answering her questions with a rather irrelevant comment. However, at the Baron's implications Desdemona couldn't help but flush a very bright shade of red. She also couldn't help the automatic involuntary shock response that was making her jaw drop in a rather unflattering manner.

"I..." Her brain was not working. That was much too much for Desdemona. She didn't even think about that. Especially that with the Baron. She actually tried at all cost not to think about that. She was not exactly experienced in that, but that was... well she tried to keep that buried deep in her mind as much as possible. Especially that with the Baron! She shivered, another involuntary response.

She took a moment to compose herself. "I did not mean..." She was at a loss to articulate herself, not exactly a common occurrence, especially for Desdemona however this was a very uncommon occurrence, usually people where much more subtle when they discussed these rather delicate matters. "I did not mean." Desdemona took a breath, inhaling the cool air surrounding her and the sweet scent of the roses, she relaxed slightly. "I simply wanted to ask, why you wanted me as a bride."

Baron Yorick could not stop the smirk curling and twisting about his lips at her flushed face and slackened jaw. While true it was unbecoming of a princess, he couldn't help but find the expression worth some measure of amusement. To give her the slightest nudge, Yorick pressed a finger to the soft skin beneath her jaw in order to subtly assist in its closing.

He waited for her to compose herself behind a half-mask of patience. It took all of his self-control not to snicker at the fact his words seemed to leave her speechless. The Baron surveyed his future bride as she posed her question, and took a moment to formulate an answer that would be desirable for her. "Dear Princess Desdemona..." the Baron sighed, gently bringing the arm formerly perched atop the bench around her shoulders. "How I have loved thee since our first meeting. Albeit, back then, it was of a different kind for you were but a child. Now however you are grown, and your father seeking suitors for you. How could I pass up the chance to suggest myself as one of many men seeking thy favor?" he asked, and though made a good show of it being purely love that motivated him there was something more to his reasons. Yorick had given Alastair a similar reasoning, though had been a bit more political about it.

Though, if he were to be true unto himself, if no one else, he had just lied straight through his teeth. Yorick barely knew Desdemona other than her face and name, and sought marrying into the family for the wealth and power he could gain from such a union. Yet with a new wife came the demand from advisors not aware he was practically immortal to beget children. Children who would be not but a nuisance in their infancy, an annoyance during childhood, and a threat the moment they reached the teen age. Yorick would not have his power taken away from him, wouldn't allow an upstart child usurp control as he and his brother had done unto their parents. But that was a long way off.

Looking to Desdemona again, Yorick wondered just how much about politics his bride-to-be knew. "On a much more... trifling note... marriage to you would of course bring to my barony wealth and power, and a chance for you to govern the lands I own at my side. You would not be a queen by title, but I would avow to treat you as one..." he added, including a suggestive wink at the end of his statement. Of the matter of power and wealth, Yorick did not consider it a trifle. But, perhaps if he made it seem that way he could gain favor...

An arm that she did not notice earlier made its way towards her shoulders and she recoiled from him. Not entirely comfortable with physical contact from strangers - and that's what they were despite the fact that were about to bind themselves together - she did not welcome his touch with open arms and noted that he was all too willing to take liberties. However, it was a rather harmless touch nonetheless, a friendly gesture, and she would be overacting if she chided him now. A princess did not overact. They are cool and collected, able to mask their truest emotions under a mask they call reserve. It was good for the people if their rulers did not lose their heads during crises, it was a trick Desdemona learned well.

And she used her reserve to mask the display of emotions she knew he would have found in her face if she hadn't otherwise as she listened to his reason for why he wanted to marry her. She'd already shown him more than she'd care to share with her shocked expression earlier, but that just caught her entirely off guard. Thus, she was able to keep the skepticism from her face when he talked to her about love and keep the rather telling eye roll that he truly deserved when he mentioned 'wealth and power' in the same breath as 'trifling'. Of course, wealth and power trifling for the Baron Yorick? That was almost laughable. The way she saw it, he had everything to gain from their marriage and her... well she would lose her freedom, she was sure of it.

"And how did you manage to convince my father of our... arrangement?" Desdemona asked responding cooly. "I have to admit Baron, that I feel rather..." she paused to find the word, "betrayed to find that my father did not feel the need to discuss this matter with me before hand. Though it is a bit... unconventional, I do believe that I have at least some say in who I should marry. I thought he'd shared this view until of course, he conversed with you and strategically forgot to mention it to me before it was formalized. Do not take this badly as I am merely curious. I know my father well enough that any vow of long and eternal love by a suitor would be heard with deaf ears. So I have to ask, what did you tell or show him that convinced him to bound me to you?" The truth to the matter was, she wanted to know what it was so that she could deal with whatever it was in any means necessary. His hold on her father was crucial into breaking off their engagement. However she masked her eagerness to find out what it is, politically using soft curiosity. She felt that the Baron would not tell her if she was too eager and her father would prove to be a dead end, he did not usually share the details of his dealings with her, much to her dismay.

When she recoiled, Yorick backed off slightly and replaced his arm upon the back of the bench. It would hardly be to his benefit if he were accused of something that would call off the wedding. Six months from now, the Princess would simply have to get used to such gestures and contact by his reckoning. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try again after a few moments.

Just as Desdemona seemed to be keeping a neutral mask, Yorick likewise tacked one onto his own features. He was impressed yet frustrated at the mask she’d put up, for he couldn’t tell what she was thinking or feeling. For a man such as him not knowing how this conversation was making his intended tick, and being unable to riddle out the puzzling enigma all women were, was nearly maddening. Although, because she did not interrupt him or appear to disregard his words the Baron could only assume that the statements were received upon believing ears.

A silver eyebrow flecked with the odd strand of ebony rose at her question, noting the chill tone of voice and the peculiarity that Yorick felt was the question itself. “Convince? My dear girl, to what reason doth thou assume I have convinced anyone of anything?” he inquired in kind.

"I have to admit Baron, that I feel rather... betrayed to find that my father did not feel the need to discuss this matter with me before hand. Though it is a bit... unconventional, I do believe that I have at least some say in who I should marry. I thought he'd shared this view until of course, he conversed with you and strategically forgot to mention it to me before it was formalized. Do not take this badly as I am merely curious. I know my father well enough that any vow of long and eternal love by a suitor would be heard with deaf ears. So I have to ask, what did you tell or show him that convinced him to bound me to you?"

Dark eyes blinked at the princess from behind their owner’s masked countenance. After a moment, however, Yorick was once again his rather easily amused self. After his previous attempts to get her into a conversation and failing, the baron was merely surprised at the length to which she spoke now. “I apologize the lack of discussion in the matter has made you feel betrayed, although I am not entirely responsible for that,” he offered, wondering why she would be curious as to what means he’d used to persuade King Alastair. He could think of only a few solutions, curiosity and an attempt to undermine him being two of those notions though the baron was unsure how using the information would work regarding the latter. Either way, he didn’t think it would be a well-received answer, no matter what he came up with.

“My dear girl...” Yorick began, smiling just as reassuringly as he had been previously, “Your father has his reasons, and I my own, regarding the personal and political aspects of our impending union. Worry your pretty head not over this matter, and know that what I have told you already is sincerity at its finest.” As he said this, one of his hands cautiously advanced towards hers.