Teatime? Ⅱ

At exactly, two fifty-nine in the afternoon the figure of a female house elf in a neat dress with large droopy ears appears on the green lawn of Prince Manor with a male youth in tow. Dawn quickly checks her somewhat green charge and asks, "Dawn is worried. Mr. Avery, do you feel well?"

The fifteen-year-old wizard with a sharp face and widow's peak opens his eyes. Evan Avery's eyes widen in shock at seeing the grand castle-like manor of the Prince family. Hiding his shock, Evan turns to the female house-elf and nods his head stiffly. "I am feeling much better now, please do lead the way inside."

Dawn's ears twitch in a speculative fashion, but she obediently murmurs, "Yes, Mr. Avery," before leading the young wizard across the vast green expanse.

In the distance, a peacock cry can be heard that of Fidel making his usual rounds. Much like the Prince's, he was an arrogant fowl, but he was rather responsible and loyal always patrolling the grounds to protect against any intruders. That and the bird killer had returned, he was much safer outside!

All too soon, Evan finds himself striding up the white front steps and entering Prince Manor. His eyes widen at the tasteful, but extraordinary luxury found just in the entranceway. Already waiting in the front foyer, there are two tall, slender female figures. The taller and older figure has short, slightly salt-peppered hair swept up to the side like raven wings, Georgine Prince. While the younger was someone he immediately recognized as Rowan Prince.

Evan carefully studies the face of Rowan Prince. She had grown much taller since he had last seen her. Her expression was rather cold and guarded, but there was a bit an air of femininity to her now that had not been there before. There were more womanly curves to her, and she was well on her way to blossoming into a young woman. And even if she would never be a great beauty like Bethanie Fawley, but there was elegance, a mysterious quality to her that would certainly draw many a wizard's eyes.

Bowing politely, Evan courteously says, "I thank the Prince household for accepting my request for tea and allowing my presence to grace the Prince household."

Georgine coolly eyes the youth, who was already a widower for a moment. Finally, she barely tilts her head in acknowledgment, before murmuring, "Yes, well, manners must be kept." Turning away, she gestures, "Come," before leading the way to one of the inner foyers.

Rowan follows quickly in tow as Evan briskly follows them. They are led to a cream-colored parlor room with dark-colored furniture. Evan Avery moves to aid, the older Prince into her seat, but Georgine refuses and says, "Have a seat, I shall shortly return," before swiftly departing and closing the door shut behind her.

Rowan and Avery exchange glances for a moment before they each take a seat across from each other. They are silent for a few moments before Rowan remembers her manners and asks, "Tea?"

"Yes, please," Evan murmured as he watched Rowan Prince serve them both cups of tea. He is a bit startled to see Rowan's left arm shake for a moment, before watching her grimace, and set the teapot back down.

"It would appear that I am having some trouble pouring tea," Rowan confessed without staring Evan in the eye. "If you would do the honors, Avery, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Of course," Evan quickly replied hoping to grace himself at least more in her books. With ease, he took the teapot and poured them both a cup of tea. Still, he could not help but wonder what exactly was wrong with Prince if she was having trouble pouring a cup of tea.

"Cream or Sugar?' Evan asked as he set the teapot down.

"A bit of cream and two teaspoons of sugar, please," Rowan muttered.

Trying to make small talk, Evan adds, "Well, I don't necessarily like more than one teaspoon of sugar, but I certainly enjoy more than a bit of cream in my tea."

Rowan makes a murmuring sound but takes great care when accepting the cup of tea from Evan. However, this time her left hand did not tremble, which caused Evan to blink in surprise. It was not that her left arm was weak, but rather an external factor such as nerves?

"Biscuit?" Evan asked as he held out one of the smaller trays of biscuits.

Rowan presses her lips into a thin line of reluctant acceptance as she takes only one from the offered tray. The sounds of the two of them sipping their tea is heard for a minute or so, before Rowan carefully sets her teacup down in the china tea saucer, before briskly looking up at Evan. "Let us get down to business, Avery, why exactly have you come? We are certainly not friends, nor did we part on such amicable terms for you to visit, come out with it, Avery. I don't have all day."

Evan gracefully sets his tea down, before glancing at Rowan. Bowing his head, he sincerely says, "First, I wish to sincerely apologize for my actions that day. I was arrogant, a foolish fop, and I was far easily swayed by a close friend all for my vanity. That being said, I can assure you, beyond wishing to return the beating I received at your hands, I am no rapist, and I would never have permitted such vile actions to occur under my watch.

Still, I do understand that there are no excuses for my actions, and I do not require your forgiveness for my actions as they are inexcusable. But once more I wish to reiterate that I wish to make amends and to least present my sincere apologies, Prince."

Rowan slowly nods her head in understanding and reaches for the biscuit on her left side. She suddenly winces in pain at feeling a sharp agonizing pain in her left eye again. It had been getting worse with the passing of each day, and her eye was slowly becoming more and more sensitive to the light. But worst of all at times she could see a grayish like sheen appear in her mirror reflection, before vanishing. Whatever it was, she had to hide it for now. She could not afford to burden her grandfather nor aunt. There was something else going on, and Aunt Georgine nor her grandfather would speak of it.

Taking a deep breath, Rowan exhales loudly as the pain in her left eye once more grows dull enough for her to reply. "Avery, I do know that you are sincere," Rowan confessed, "but I do not believe that we will ever truly be called friends. And knowing you, this cannot possibly be your only purpose when coming to Prince Manor this afternoon. There must be something more, which is what I want to know?"

Evan makes a wary face as he raises his teacup to her, before taking a sip. "If you must know, Prince, I seek a godmother for my son. His mother is dead, and I wish protection for him in these growing troubling times," Evan gravely admitted. "I will pay any price, Prince, and though I wish for you to accept, Prince, your aunt would be just as acceptable."

Rowan is startled for a moment before her eyes narrow. "You should what my answer is already Avery without even asking. And as for my Aunt, what makes you think I can convince her?"

Evan flashes Rowan a confident grin, before replying, "Because it is well known that Georgine Prince dotes upon her great-niece and nephew. She would certainly take into consideration my request if you mentioned it to her."

Rowan leans back in her seat neither acknowledging nor disagreeing with the statement. Studying Avery again, she notices that his eyes already have a bit of dark eyeshadow on his face. The childish arrogant gaze of a school bully is gone, and all that remains is sorrow, intelligence, and most importantly that of worry. But more importantly, the gaze of a parent willing to protect their child and pay the price for it.

Sighing, Rowan finally says, "Very well, Avery, I will speak on your behalf. However, I do know a ceremony is required to acknowledge the godparents, will it be a private or public one?"

"Private," Evan confessed. "It will only be close family members and on one else in attendance since I am still in mourning."

"I see," Rowan quietly said, before tilting her head to him in a tiny bow. "I apologize for my belated expression of condolence for your loss, and on the birth of your newborn son."

"Thank you," Evan quietly answered, before biting a bit forcefully into his biscuit to cover any emotions of grief. He had to be strong, there was no other alternative.