Korvaun decided not to even try to defend himself or the other proud Houses. Instead he asked, as gently as before, "How can one die of poverty when married to a guildmaster?"
"Father wasn't guildmaster then, and commanded just a building crew. He did the work of six, but couldn't earn coins enough. Not nearly enough."
"For?"
"For cure-potions and temple-healings to banish Mother's fever. We barely had enough for her funeral."
"So you had to become mother to the Dyres."
"Yes," Naoni said, and added in a voice as soft and steely as the thread she'd spun, "and I will die before any Dyre lacks for coin again!"
"Well, the cloaks you made for us should soon have you set up in a grand house-in North Ward, say-with all you could want. We've been asked about them scores of times already, by many of Waterdeep's finest."
"Finest," Naoni echoed scornfully. "Finest thieves, finest swindlers, finest-gahh!"
Korvaun held silent, seeking the right words. A great wound begat Naoni's pain, but 'twas an old one. It seemed she'd spent a lifetime rubbing salt into it. If there was any chance of a life for them together, they had to be done with this.
"I wasn't aware that the gods gave any noble child the slightest choice as to the station it was born to, any more than they offer that choice to a babe born to a tavern dancer in some Dock Ward alley. That's a lot of venom to be born of mere envy," he said, picking words likely to goad her into wrath.
The woman in his arms almost exploded. Naoni Dyre managed to sit bolt upright and twist herself around to face him all in one movement. She glared at him with more fire than all the ghosts in all Waterdeep could manage.
"Envy? ENVY? Let me tell you something, Lord High and Mighty Helmfast! I don't envy nobles, I pity them-but I pity far more the folk who must live with them and suffer the hurts of their thoughtless or malicious caprices!"
"Caprices?"
"Hah, think you a mere stonemason's daughter can't know a fancy word or two, do you?"
Naoni was literally trembling with anger. Korvaun held her very gently, wondering what to do.
Nose to nose with him, she hissed fiercely, "Do you truly want to know why I despise nobles?"
Korvaun swallowed. "Yes."
He remembered what he'd seen in the Warrens vault: Varrencia Cassalanter's wedding invitation, adorned with an etching of the happy couple. He'd seen at a glance what he'd never noticed until that moment: Varrencia and Faendra Dyre looked startlingly alike.
"Once, not so long ago," Naoni hissed, "there was a young and beautiful lass, a commoner who loved a young noble. Loved and was loved, or so she believed, until the day she knew she was with child, and shared that joy with her lord-and had his gates slammed shut in her face. Her kind and faithful lord promptly took a wife of as high station as his own."
Naoni's face was wet, now; in the light of the web Korvaun could see tears on her cheeks.
"When she was large with child, he sent masked men to snatch her away to a country estate. The ride was hard, and her time came early. Lying there broken on a fine bed in a strange house, she was told her babe had died. Then she was bundled back into her clothes, still dusty from the ride that had brought her, taken back to the street she'd been seized from-and tossed to the cobbles."
Naoni's voice broke, and they sat together in silence for several moments. Even the ghosts had left off their eerie moans. Still and silent, they seemed to be listening.
Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Naoni added, "While recovering, she heard the triumphant news that her lord and his hitherto-barren wife had been blessed by the gods, who'd miraculously given them a daughter. In those safer days, great lords still threw open their gates to let the unwashed view their future masters, and my-and the lass went, and knew the babe was hers, with her red-gold hair and eyes like midsummer blueburst."
Some of the fire seemed to go out of Naoni's voice, and she sank down a little in his arms. "Servants drew her out into the back gardens and threatened her with the law if she so much as touched or spoke to the lord's daughter-ever. Then she was marched to another corner of the gardens, where her Lord Faithful's wife was waiting with a threat of her own. She told the lass that the gods had bestowed a blessing: she was now pregnant with her lord's child. If the lass did or said anything to make the merest hint of scandal touch her husband, her little girl would disappear. Forever."
Korvaun winced. This was not the tale he'd expected. It was far worse. "You're telling me dark truth. How'd you learn it?"
"I found… love letters, and a journal, with a portrait-a miniature, something my… no tradesman's family could have afforded. All hidden in a coffer. Some of the letters were pleading. Desperate." Naoni shivered.
"I believe it. I believe it all," Korvaun told her. "Many take anything they can grasp, caring nothing for others, yet not all nobles are like that, I am not like that."
"I know," Naoni whispered, "yet you can't undo what was done. No one can. It's marked me forever."
"A smith hammers and hammers a blade, then quenches it in oil and reheats it to hammer it more," Korvaun said gently, "and not all blades break in such forging. Some emerge strong and true. You've no reason to be ashamed by what happened."
"I am not ashamed! I have done nothing to be ashamed of!"
"Yet you've never told anyone your mother's story until now, have you?"
Naoni was silent for a long time before she sobbed, "No. My mother said nothing, and I didn't-and don't-want to hurt Father. My mother's family were successful merchants, with a good house and coins to spare, the sort of folk who fear scandal more than anything else. They married her off to the first man who asked. An ambitious day laborer. Father."
"I doubt he was as deaf and blind at the time as that telling suggests," Korvaun said gently. And waited.
"You're… perceptive, Lord Helmfast. No doubt Father knows all. I most fear Faendra learning of this and preening to all that she's almost nobility, or should be. No good can come of that, only heartbreak for her and unpleasantness for us all."
Korvaun nodded grimly. Some nobles would sport with such a lass with glee…
He laid his dagger in her hand and closed her fingers over it. "Take this. If you feel the need to protect your honor and your good name-even from me-use it with my blessing."
She stared at his calm face through fresh tears. "You make it hard for me to despise you."
Korvaun's mouth traced the wry beginnings of a smile. "I suppose that's a beginning."
"A beginning?" she asked suspiciously. "A beginning of what?"
"Friendship, at first. In due time, love and marriage-if you'll have me. And after marriage, gods willing, children."
Naoni stared at him, mouth agape. He added quickly, "I know things can only happily befall if they're also your desire, and we come to know each other well and trust each other fully. Don't fear that I'll take the one without offering the other. Nobles are good at vows, and I make one to you here and now: if I get you with child, it will only be as my Lady Helmfast."
She shook her head incredulously, tearstained face bone-pale. "Marriage… children… Lady Helmfast! You're crazed!"
"Quite possibly. Nevertheless… the words are said and I mean them."
Naoni stared into his eyes, breathing fast. "I believe you'll stand by your vow, Lord Helmfast, and I give you one of my own: I'll no longer be ridden by the ghost of my mother's pain. I'll not judge you by he who wronged her. And I'll no longer pretend I don't love you."
Her lips found his, and they were warm and sweet and willing.
When at last they broke apart, breathless, Naoni murmured, "Now, that, my lord, is a beginning!"
Korvaun chuckled and stroked her cheek. "Nay, love, let it be an ending-for this night. Let the priests chant their prayers first, so you never have reason to fear dishonor or scandal."