After leaving the lord's keep, Ryan sought out Elger and Ailin, instructing the siblings to gather young laborers for the building of a brickworks. Then he dispatched messengers along the Hoarwell and the Bruinen, to learn of Idhrion and the others and the progress of their recruiting.
When these matters were ordered, Ryan remembered the evening's banquet at the House of Dulod. To prepare, he went to a merchant in town and bought, for a single gold coin, a fine black nobleman's attire.
….
That night, the feast was held within the castle of the Dulod. Kinsmen and friends arrived in formal dress, their voices bright with cheer.
Ryan entered with Elger and Ailin, and at the gates they were greeted by Miles, courteous as ever.
"Welcome, Lord Ryan," said the young heir with a graceful bow. "My father is already receiving the guests within."
After returning the salute, Ryan and his companions stepped into the great hall. The chamber thronged with many of the Dulod kin and their allies. For generations they had ruled Dessen, intermarrying and growing numerous; though their direct line was never many, their household was large and lively.
"This way, Lord Ryan," came a familiar voice. Ryan turned and saw Grinwald beckoning him forward.
Taking cups of red wine from a servant, Ryan and the siblings moved to greet the lord.
"I have never before attended such a gathering," Ryan admitted. "My life has been only battle and survival. I am grateful for your invitation, Lord Grinwald."
"You are ever sincere and plain-spoken," the elder replied with a smile.
They raised their cups together, each drinking a little.
Grinwald's gaze swept over Ryan's form. Clad in black robes, with a ruby-studded belt at his waist, his long dark hair falling loosely behind him, he bore a beauty and a noble bearing that drew every eye.
"You are truly noble-born in every fiber," Grinwald mused. Then, glancing across the hall with a knowing smile, he added, "Tonight, perhaps more than one maiden will give her heart to you."
Ryan smiled politely. "I have no mind for such matters—for now."
And indeed, when he followed the old lord's gaze, he saw several young women watching him with shy, hopeful eyes. But at that moment, another figure crossed his sight—Ailin.
She wore a gown of deep violet, tall and graceful as the women of Dúnedain often were. Beauty was hers, but her eyes held a shadow of reproach.
Ryan, perceiving this, hastily turned the talk. "The hall is lively tonight…"
For he was ever the man of purpose, his heart given to work and vision, not to love. In truth, both Ailin and Alaina had once shown him signs of closeness, but Ryan—untouched by such thoughts—had failed to notice. Now, though more aware, still he placed his rising cause above all else.
Grinwald, seeing his guest's awkwardness in such affairs, gave him a sympathetic smile before moving on to greet others.
Soon the feast began in earnest. Harps and flutes lifted their music, and the gathering stilled as the lady of the hour appeared—Isabel Dulod.
She entered in white, her gown close-fitted and embroidered at the hem with floral patterns, veiled in golden gauze. Her golden hair was bound half-up, curls falling to a swan-like neck, her skin pale as ivory, her eyes a clear blue that shone like gems.
With a poised smile she stepped forward, and all were struck by her grace, offering words of welcome.
Ryan, standing apart in a corner, found her fair indeed but gave her no long glance. At this, Ailin's lips curved faintly in satisfaction. Elger, older in years and steady in temper, bowed politely and turned his eyes elsewhere.
….
As Isabel moved among her kin, accepting their blessings, her gaze never strayed far from the corner where Ryan and his companions stood.
She was more than beauty: her wit was keen, her bearing unshaken. Since childhood she had dwelt in Rivendell, sent by her father to learn wisdom and lore, that she might one day guide her brother and strengthen her House. No secret of Dulod's affairs was hidden from her.
Already she had heard of all that had passed: how Ryan had saved the town in its darkest hour, how he forged alliance with her family, how he brought knowledge far beyond the age, and how he created bricks that could change the face of trade.
Nor was she unknowing of the Dúnedain. Many of their kin dwelt in Rivendell under the care of Elrond, friends of Elves, heirs of ancient heroes. Yet among them all she had never met one like Ryan, who in a single month wrought such marvels. Her heart stirred with curiosity toward this mysterious young ranger.
Before the feast ended, she came herself, bearing a cup of wine, and with a bright smile said:
"My father has told me that Dessen has lately been graced by a most remarkable guest."
Ryan answered easily, "If you mean me, I am Ryan Eowenríel. I am honored to attend your banquet, Lady Isabel."
"And I am Isabel Dulod, daughter of this house. The honor is mine."
They raised their cups, sipping lightly, their smiles both courteous and sincere.
Then Isabel turned to Elger and Ailin with a graceful nod. "You must be Lord Ryan's companions, Ranger Elger and Lady Ailin. I am pleased to meet you both."
Elger inclined his head respectfully. "The pleasure is ours, Lady Isabel."
Ailin, softening her earlier mood, smiled warmly. "And I as well."
Their eyes met, smiles outwardly gentle—yet beneath the surface, something unspoken passed between the two women.
At that moment Torvin joined them, laughing. "It seems you are already well acquainted. May I intrude upon this company?"
"Not at all," Ryan said, glancing across the hall. He caught Grinwald's eye—saw the elder lord watching him with quiet intent, lifting his cup in a subtle toast.
And in Ryan's heart a premonition stirred: something unforeseen was soon to unfold.