Proof (Emilian/Artemisios/Adara)

[Adara Snow]

Adara felt physically ill at the prospect of what they were about to face. Her spine was properly straight, everything about her appearance exactly what it should be, her hair perfectly smooth, her fine blouse and calf-length skirt carefully adjusted. She had to be perfect for her father, had to let him see that Emilian was good for her, that he had been treating her as she deserved, and that she was better for his influence.

She stopped just out of sight of the shop and turned toward Emilian, her hands smoothing almost compulsively against her skirt, refusing to clutch the cloth and risk a wrinkle, and not allowing herself to chew her lip no matter the temptation. "Are you ready?" she asked Emilian.

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian grimaced slightly as he looked down at her. He glanced over her shoulder into a glass front of the store they were stopped in front of, tugging lightly on his fitted shirt and making sure that everything was in its proper place. He brought a hand up to smooth down pieces of his hair that had decided to be unruly before finally looking back at her. It killed him to feel the tension coming from her, and to know he could do nothing to stop it.

Emilian had met plenty of parents before, had charmed them into not caring what he did with their daughters, but this time seemed so much different. He had tried to think the entire day and had failed miserably, his mind insisting on going back to the possibility that he wouldn't have Adara after the meeting with her father. "No," he said, "But there's nothing to be done about it." He didn't have a choice, whether he was ready or not it was time.

[Adara Snow]

Adara bit her lip, only for a moment before she recalled herself. She swept her tongue briefly over the spot, soothing and somehow hoping to erase any sign of having done so. "Let us go, then, before I lose my courage," she said, her dark eyes searching Emilian's, trying to absorb his strength. She took a deep, bracing breath, then turned toward the shop, paused, and turned again, back toward Emlian. She looked at him, considering. "You should lead," she said. "It is three shops further, to our left."

It was risky, but it was the only way to be proper. Emilian must lead, and she must follow. Adara reminded herself that she could not be too familiar with Emilian, that she must walk a careful balance between Emilian and her father. She had never had to do this before, though, and she prayed that she could.

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian watched her for a moment longer before turning to go to the shop she indicated. His mind was whirling with ideas and thoughts. What if the man refused to even listen to Emilian? What if he just ordered him out and forced Adara to leave right then and there? He mentally shook his head, no, that wouldn't happen. They would be together, whatever happened. He resisted looking back at her over his shoulder before opening the door and walking into the shop.

[Adara Snow]

Adara followed half a step behind Emilian, tension infusing her body the closer they got. When they stopped inside the shop, Adara inclined her head toward the young man behind the counter. He would know why they were there. He nodded back, then headed into the back of the shop, to her father's office, momentarily leaving her alone with Emilian. Adara did not relax during that time, but stood in silence, trying to gather her wits, mentally checking her posture, her facial expression, all those things which came naturally, but needed to be more correct.

[Artemisios Snow]

It was only a short time before the associate returned. "Herr Snow will see you," he said, as though there might have been any question. The young man led the way to the office and opened the door, then stepped aside, spine rigidly straight.

The office was as it always was, dimly lit and darkly masculine. The man behind the desk seemed part of it, cold, distant, and undeniably dark, if not in appearance, then in the aura that surrounded him. The man stood slowly, his heavily hooded eyes on the young man, piercing near-black beneath heavy brows. Then, Artemisios turned his attention to his daughter, and the boy was momentarily dismissed.

His gaze was as piercing for Adara, searching for some sign, searching for anything that might give her away, but as yet, there was nothing. She was, as always, innocent perfection. "Adara," Artemisios said in greeting, lifting his daughter's hand to press a kiss to the soft back as he bowed over it. He turned his dark gaze momentarily to the boy as he straightened. "Do have a seat," he said.

Artemisios led Adara to one of two leather chairs facing his desk, saw her seated, then resumed his own seat, folding his hands atop his blotter. He said nothing further for now, made no greeting, only watched as he mentally reviewed all that he had learned the past night. The boy was a menace, a stain, but he had agreed to meet with the boy, and Artemisios was a man of his word.

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian was caught off guard by the silent, calm darkness coming from the man in front of him and used a small, graceful bow of greeting to mask the split second he needed to get used to it. When he met the man's, Herr Snow's, eyes again his face was free of the momentary lapse. The powerful he was used to being around were more obvious, but that could have been exaggerated by the fact that Emilian had already decided he didn't like the man.

He sat in the open chair, crossing his legs comfortably and letting his arms rest on the arms of the chair. He didn't speak, thinking it better to let her father initiate the conversation. If he had been thinking more clearly, he would have said something, a compliment or a greeting, but as it were he couldn't bring himself to open his lips, afraid to offend the man in front of him. He was already keenly aware of his scars, and knew they would come into play, he silently sent a curse at Firebrand.

[Adara Snow]

Adara, though she could feel Emilian in the chair to her right, gave no outward sign that she was at all aware of his existence. She wanted to look at him, to reassure herself, but that would give away far too much, and so she crossed her hands demurely on her lap and kept her gaze lowered. "Thank you, Father, for seeing us today," she said in her soft voice. She wanted to look up at her father, to judge his reaction, but again, that act would give away insecurity, and she could only be sure of Emilian's welcome or it would appear odd.

[Artemisios Snow]

Artemisios gave no sign he had heard Adara, rather focusing his attention back on the boy. In the dim light, the scars were not as visible, but Artemisios knew. He knew when and from where the scars had come, knew the boy's tendencies, knew his past, or at the least enough of it to have already formed his judgment.

"Mr. Sota," he said, declaring the interview open at last, "I have heard some distressing news about your behaviors and attitudes. Keeping in mind my daughter's presence, and the nature of those behaviors, I will leave them unstated and trust that you understand there will be no hiding these facts from me."

Aside from those facts, there were also a disturbing number of implications, but Artemisios would deal with those when the unarguable had been established. He said no more, but waited expectantly for the boy to respond. Artemisios had no belief that Sota could talk his way out of the mess he was already in, but he was interested in seeing the boy try.

[Emilian Sota]

"There are some regrettable acts in my past." It didn't surprise him that the man had researched and already knew what Emilian had done. He was just glad that he couldn't be held accountable had he forgotten to mention something. "I had no intentions of hiding them from you," he said, declaring that he planned to be honest, or as honest as he could be without causing harm to Adara from a confession.

[Adara Snow]

Adara listened carefully, but remained a pale shadow, silent, and hoping beyond hope that her father would simply forget her presence and allow her to remain. She knew what acts they were speaking of, but did not dare give any sign of her knowledge. The usual warning against speaking too freely in her presence had not escaped her notice, and it set her on alert. How much did her father know?

[Artemisios Snow]

Artemisios watched the boy; he was far too cool, far too sure of himself. And yet, he could not truly shake Sota with his daughter watching. "Adara, if you will excuse us," Artemisios said. He stood, but did not round the desk, even as his attention shifted benignly to Adara. "You may choose any quill from the shop, prinzessin. I will call you back if your presence is required." Which it most likely would not be.

Artemisios had seen no clues between his daughter and the boy; it was the only reason he had agreed to her presence at all. With those questions still unanswered, she had outlived her usefulness in this sphere. The interview would resume when she had left.

[Emilian Sota]

Emilian followed the man's lead, standing as well. He didn't want to take the chance of physical contact with her even by such a gesture as holding a hand out to her when she stood. He clasped his hands in front of him, right over left, unconsciously hiding his hand. He didn't like the idea of Adara leaving, even if it took away one element of tension, it added so many more, he would be alone with the man.

[Adara Snow]

It was everything Adara could do to force herself to stand, to keep her face smooth and unreadable when she wanted to cry. She wanted desperately to cling to Emilian and refuse to go, but there was no wisdom in such an action. Adara took one long breath, then turned toward the door, only raising her gaze to Emilian while her father could not see. She dared nothing more. Adara left her father's office for the shop, the door clicking softly shut in her wake.

[Artemisios Snow]

Artemisios's hooded eyes watched Adara as she left, only shifting to the boy once he was assured that the door was closed. Wordlessly, he sat, resuming his posture of quiet expectation. He waited for Sota to do the same. "Let us dispense with pretense," he said, the words low, but clipped. "Whatever your relationship with my daughter, your behavior over time, through association, will have an effect on her. My daughter is perfection, a rose in half bloom, and as such, must be carefully tended to achieve that state of natural beauty which only occurs where man has not soiled the earth. I have spent sixteen years cultivating that unspoiled beauty, and will not see my efforts ruined. Do we understand one another, Mr. Sota?"