Short Story: [Reanimation Scheme] Meeting Parents [Kierdan]

Hey everyone! 

Last reward post for Patreon for this month! While there's still one short story (Khanyisa's) left for the Pet Names series of short stories, I wanted to do something a little different this month — with Kierdan's first few chapters for beta being pushed back to next month, I wanted to post this short story of his this month instead as an apology to Kierdan fans. This is a very belated instalment in the Reanimation Scheme short story series of meeting the parents post-endings that's been written for ages. As usual, it's written by Nic W and then edited by me. 

I'll be going back to Khanyisa's short story next month. For now, I hope you all enjoy this little story!

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Raenelle and Kierdan sit rigid and silent in the carriage, sent generously by the Marquess to pick them up from the teleportation square. As expected, the carriage is unbelievably fancy in a casual display of the Waven family's prestige and wealth, and it even comes escorted by a flurry of servants, who are utterly attentive, if a bit distant and wary.

It all makes her feel like proper royalty, alright, but it also makes her feel entirely out of place. Though, she notes as she glances at her boyfriend beside her, she is not the most uncomfortable person in this carriage. She can see Kierdan curling up his fists and relaxing them repeatedly, and his expression makes it clear that he is about two breaths away from breaking out of the carriage and escaping back to the comfort of his office in the Capital.

As if sensing her thoughts, Kierdan turns towards her, his brooding gaze softening as their eyes meet.

"I apologize for the change of plans, Raenelle. I had not realized they would be so quick on the draw when they caught wind of our relationship." His frown deepens, his eyebrows pinched in unhappiness. Raenelle straightens up from her reclined position and reaches out to gently intertwine her fingers with his.

"Don't worry, Kierdan. Visiting your parents is hardly the scariest thing we've done since we've met." She raises an eyebrow, her voice teasing. "In fact, I doubt that it would even make it to the top five spots on the list."

"Perhaps." A bit of humor creeps onto his face at her attempt to lighten the mood. "However, it is likely you will change your mind on that statement by the end of the night. They... I am uncertain what their intentions are and whether they will be welcoming."

"Psh, I doubt your parents can be worse than you used to be. If I can survive how insufferable you were at the start, I think I'm invincible." She gives him a playful nudge in the side with an elbow, eliciting a ghost of a rueful smile from him.

"I suppose I am also... at a loss as to how I am expected to act before them now. I had thought they would not like to be in my presence after everything I've done —" He lets his sentence trail off with a sigh and a shake of his head, leaving the rest of the musing unsaid. 

Raenelle squeezes his hand in comfort. "I know, but this is good, isn't it? A sign that they care about you. This could be the fresh start you need with the Waven family."

Kierdan slides his gaze to the side, giving a non-committal hum that makes it clear he's not too convinced by that. "Perhaps. We shall see. Regardless, I must apologize in advance for the... uncomfortable night ahead of us."

"It's a pity Peival couldn't make it to the dinner tonight. It'd have been easier with him and Sigynn there." Raenelle brings one hand up to tap her chin in thoughtfulness. "Honestly, I bet it was an excuse — he probably didn't actually have other commitments scheduled tonight. If I have to guess, I think he just didn't want to show his face tonight, because he knows he would also get nagged at over when he will bring Sigynn home to meet his parents too. Little traitor, wait till I —"

She swiftly loses her train of thought as the grand carriage abruptly passes through a stately iron-wrought gate, and oh, oh.

She beholds with awe the sight of acres upon acres of perfectly manicured gardens, stately gazebos standing over lawns, and crystalline ponds, all connected by well-maintained stonework paths that criss-cross over the vast countryside estate. The scene is certainly jaw-dropping, to say nothing of the enormously grand manor that lies atop the hill in front of them.

Raenelle shifts, a prickle of discomfort building in her stomach. She tries to rationalize away the unpleasant feelings: after all, Raenelle has always known that Kierdan's family is rich — everyone did. And it's not as if she's never interacted with rich people or nobles before — her family does well in their own right, but it's clear that Kierdan's is many leagues above that. 

The sudden halting of the carriage pulls her out of her thoughts, and she swallows tightly with newfound nerves. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Kierdan looking at her with concern, but she elects to ignore him and takes the opportunity to climb out of the carriage and stretch her legs. As she does so, she gives herself a few moments to catch her breath. 

Nothing's changed — she meant what she said. What's one dinner with the Wavens in comparison to everything else they've been through? Besides, it might not as bad as he fears — it didn't sound like his parents disapprove of their relationship or her. Surely, they would not have invited her to this dinner so eagerly if they did not think she's a suitable match for Kierdan? And given what Peival had mentioned about their parents' previous concerns and pestering about Kierdan's perpetual state of bachelorship, they should be more than happy that she's brought about this change in his relationship status, right?

Feeling better after her mental pep talk for herself, she turns to Kierdan with an encouraging smile, which he slowly returns. She can sense a bit of apprehension bubbling under the surface, but he keeps his expression firmly under control as he escorts her past the carriage driver and guards. The two are greeted at the main entrance by a pair of servants, who invite them inside with a stiff bow. Another maid devests them of their coats before leading down a stone hallway that is both very well decorated and brightly lit, yet equally cold and uninviting. Thankfully the journey is short, and soon, they're standing before a heavy double set of doors that glides open at their arrival.

Kierdan gently leads her into an impressive dining room. Famous artworks adorn the wall, and every table, chair, plant, hell, even the silverware and plates all reek of their expensive origins. It's a room made to be admired and elicit jealousy — but not really to be a home, if you ask her. 

"My lord." Kierdan gives a stiff nod in greeting. After a slight pause, he greets his stepmother sitting next to the Marquess as well. "My lady. Good evening."

"Good evening, Kierdan! How lovely of you to join us tonight for dinner!" The lady smiles with surprising warmth. "This must be Miss Talisko. I've heard much about you." 

"Good evening, my lord, my lady. It's a pleasure to meet you." Raenelle releases Kierdan's hand and steps forward with her best smile. "You can just call me Raenelle." 

As the lady urges them to take a seat and welcomes her to their home, the Marquess watches them for a moment with an unreadable expression, one that causes a sense of foreboding to sink into Raenelle's stomach and form a small knot. 

The ominous feeling proves to be correct almost immediately, as the older Lord Waven opens his mouth to speak. "So this is the woman you've chosen, Kierdan? How long have the two of you been romantically involved?" 

Raenelle isn't sure what hurts more — the bemused glint in his eyes as if he can't understand what his son sees in her, or the disapproving tone in his voice. 

Kierdan's brows furrow, his response coming out clipped and short in his displeasure. "Yes. We have been over this over the mirror. You indicated your acceptance of my decision."

The Marquess ignores the warning in Kierdan's tone and sets the copy of the Nalenshir Crier in his hands down on the table. "I only indicated that I would refrain from judgement until I had a chance to meet your girlfriend. Which, given how you seem to avoid us like the plague, would likely never have happened if I didn't spring this arrangement on you immediately."

The two Wavens glare at each other, the air crackling with tension between them. Raenelle shrinks back in her seat, trying to make herself as invisible as possible, while the lady breaks the silence with a nervous titter. "All right there, gentlemen. This is nothing that can't be resolved over a nice meal and a few glasses of wine. Why don't we leave this conversation for later?"

"Thank you for the invitation, but we shall be taking our leave now." Kierdan pushes back his chair and stands, offering one hand out to Raenelle. She looks up at him in surprise and confusion. "Wait. Now? But what about —"

"There is no point to this dinner. I shall not allow you to stay and be subject to such cruel judgements." He bends to take Raenelle's hand, sparing not even a single glance at the older couple at the table, as the lady hastily continues her attempts at being the peacemaker and convince him to stay. 

Raenelle's gaze darts between them, her lower lip disappearing between her teeth, before rising from her chair to stand with Kierdan. While she isn't sure if walking out on the dinner with her parents is the best idea, she can't deny that the way Kierdan defends her to his father warms her heart, and she'll be damned if she lets his well-meaning intents go to waste.

"Fine. I apologize." As Raenelle and Kierdan turns towards the doors, the Marquess' tired voice rings out in the room, giving them pause. "Please excuse my discourtesy earlier, Miss Talisko. I admit, I would have preferred my son to be with one of the ladies that I've introduced him to over the years, but I have nothing against you. In fact, I hold a good deal of respect for your family."

Raenelle blinks. She didn't expect the Marquess to fold so quickly. She tips her head towards Kierdan, waiting for his decision. 

"It's clear that you are important to Kierdan, and I suppose that's all that matters." At the lack of reaction from Kierdan, the Marquess continues, letting out a sigh. "I am merely... put out by the fact that he had not breathed a word about you to us all this time — to think a father had to find out his son is in a relationship from the Crier, for Kaius' sake!"

The Marquess stands then, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at his son. "Would it have killed you to let us know what goes on in your personal life? Regardless of everything, in my eyes, you are a Waven and part of our family — and is it so impossible to ask you to treat us as such?" 

Raenelle feels Kierdan freeze beside her, his hand tightening around hers. She can only imagine how much he's trying to maintain his composure at the rush of shock and emotions brought by the Marquess' words. Her lips curl into an uncontrollable smile, both in amusement and in happiness — she can hardly put to words how glad she is for him that this is turning out better than they could have hoped.

The silence drags on until the Marquess turns away with a hint of embarrassment at his outburst. Raenelle squeeze Kierdan's hand, prompting him for a response. Finally, he speaks. "Very well. We shall stay for the dinner," Kierdan hesitates, the next word coming out tentatively as if he's testing the waters with the Marquess. "Father."