Zelda sounded like she was sorry for it now, regretted it - and that was something, he felt a little sorry for her too - but it wasn’t enough to be sorry after the fact. Still, she insisted they hadn’t done anything else. Ari took a breath, observed his sister, decided he ought to trust that she had learned her lesson there, and trust her on that.
But then Dionisia felt the need to step in, as though he were being entirely unfair; Ari gritted his teeth and reminded himself, too, that if she was talking about fearing for her virtue then Zelda had not shared all her secrets with her friend. From Dio’s perspective, he didn’t know how unreasonable he looked, how unlike himself - nor did he much like being reprimanded, something he could not recall having happened to him for decades - so perhaps it was for her sake that he reined himself in now, chewing on his words before he spoke so frustration could not get the better of him, trying to drum up patience where he had none.
“Believe me, I don’t want to bring it up with him,” he replied quietly, about the threat of telling Brannon, and he sincerely did not: he wanted Zelda to be aware of the consequences here - and appropriately concerned about them - but he did not want to be the reason her courtship was ruined, or responsible for her eternal misery. He did want her to be happy out of this; he hoped she could see that, somehow. “But Zelda knows this wasn’t part of the deal.”
A deal he had so far supported, helped to establish, after her surprise announcement of courtship when everyone in the family had been furious. No sneaking off alone: was that really so hard to accomplish? His gaze slid meaningfully from Dio back to Zelda at this, hoping his sister understood where he was coming from even if his wife did not have the whole story. The mark on her neck was nothing at all, in comparison. “And if anyone else found out about this - if anyone knew half of what I did - they wouldn’t let Mr. Darrow anywhere near your hand. You realise that, don’t you? They wouldn’t let you see him again.”
But then Dionisia felt the need to step in, as though he were being entirely unfair; Ari gritted his teeth and reminded himself, too, that if she was talking about fearing for her virtue then Zelda had not shared all her secrets with her friend. From Dio’s perspective, he didn’t know how unreasonable he looked, how unlike himself - nor did he much like being reprimanded, something he could not recall having happened to him for decades - so perhaps it was for her sake that he reined himself in now, chewing on his words before he spoke so frustration could not get the better of him, trying to drum up patience where he had none.
“Believe me, I don’t want to bring it up with him,” he replied quietly, about the threat of telling Brannon, and he sincerely did not: he wanted Zelda to be aware of the consequences here - and appropriately concerned about them - but he did not want to be the reason her courtship was ruined, or responsible for her eternal misery. He did want her to be happy out of this; he hoped she could see that, somehow. “But Zelda knows this wasn’t part of the deal.”
A deal he had so far supported, helped to establish, after her surprise announcement of courtship when everyone in the family had been furious. No sneaking off alone: was that really so hard to accomplish? His gaze slid meaningfully from Dio back to Zelda at this, hoping his sister understood where he was coming from even if his wife did not have the whole story. The mark on her neck was nothing at all, in comparison. “And if anyone else found out about this - if anyone knew half of what I did - they wouldn’t let Mr. Darrow anywhere near your hand. You realise that, don’t you? They wouldn’t let you see him again.”
