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Being a Kiramman is not without cost.
Caitlyn should be more grateful, she knows. She has never wanted for anything. Her enrollment at the most prestigious private school in Piltover was never in doubt. Her father is wonderful, and her mother loves her, too, even if that relationship is more complicated.
But the price is high, too. Her name intimidates most of her classmates, and when someone isn’t intimidated, Caitlyn’s forced to wonder if they would only use her as a stepping stool for their own ambition. Her mother also stays at arm’s length, and though her father is warm, Caitlyn would be hard-pressed to call him a peer by any stretch of the imagination.
She’s stunted in this way. Caitlyn is eleven years old, and she has every resource that money can buy, but there’s not a single person in Runeterra that she would call a friend.
She doesn’t think much of it when her mother mentions that the family will be sponsoring a prodigy from House Talis. The Kirammans do this often enough that it isn’t anything out of the ordinary.
Caitlyn is used to these sponsees being vapid and shallow, as soulless as possible for a chance at the Kiramman coffers. She isn’t prepared for Jayce in the slightest.
“Caitlyn,” her mother calls up (she doesn’t yell. Cassandra Kiramman is much too dignified to yell). “Will you please meet our guest at the door?”
And Caitlyn rolls her eyes but obliges, walking down the stairs just a smidge faster than her mother would like on purpose. Normally, one of the servants would simply answer the door, but it’s about first impressions, as Cassandra has never let Caitlyn forget. She plasters a smile on, one so practiced that most people would never guess that it’s fake, and finds a tall, good-looking man standing on the other side, but at least he isn’t holding flowers.
“Welcome,” Caitlyn says sweetly, so saccharine that she regrets it, because she doubts she can keep the act up at this level all night. “I’m Caitlyn.”
“Hi, Miss Kiramman,” he says, perfectly proper, matching her smile with an easy grin of his own. “I’m Jayce.”
There’s something disarming about him that makes Caitlyn want to drop her guard, but she resists it. She knows his type (intelligent, charming, ambitious). The Kirammans have taken on any number of projects before him, and they’ll do the same again once he’s moved on or been cut loose. Either way, the result is the same.
Jayce looks side-to-side, probably in search of her parents, and Caitlyn suppresses a sigh; they’re all so predictable. Once he’s satisfied that Cassandra and Tobias aren’t present, he turns back to Caitlyn, and then, he does something that surprises her.
“Sorry if this is improper,” Jayce says, and he reaches into his pocket. Caitlyn’s eyebrows slowly rise; Jayce Talis has dragged her into uncharted territory, but what he holds in his hands is something that Caitlyn recognizes, at least in theory. Her eyes go wide and her lips part; he’s holding a scope that’s unlike anything that Caitlyn’s ever seen.
“Is that–” Caitlyn starts, and Jayce’s grin widens.
He laughs slightly, and Caitlyn blushes, embarrassed at having let the mask drop even a little. Jayce says, “Your dad mentioned that you’re going to try to convince your mom to let Sheriff Grayson take you on a hunting trip sometime soon. I thought maybe you’d have a better chance at selling it if you had the right gear.”
She’s never even met Jayce Talis before, and he has shown up on her doorstep with a gift better than anything else she’s gotten in her entire life. Her fingers twitch, and her eyes dart between what’s in his hands and Jayce’s face. “I can– You’re giving this to me?” As an answer, he holds it out closer to her, and Caitlyn takes the scope from his hands. She turns it over, running her fingers along it. It’s intricate, with technology running through it that Caitlyn doesn’t recognize; she’s never been much of a scholar anyway. She looks back at Jayce, her wonder tempered by skepticism that’s been hard-learned. “What do you want?”
Jayce’s expression turns sheepish, and any joy that Caitlyn was feeling turns to disdain in the depths of her stomach. Of course, there’s a catch. She was a fool to think otherwise. It shouldn’t have taken her so long to ask.
“Well,” Jayce says, and even holding the scope in her hands now makes Caitlyn feel slimy. Why wouldn’t he have had some kind of ulterior motive? She forces herself to listen to his follow-up even though she feels outright stupid for being lured in in the first place. “I was hoping you’d help me with testing. I probably should have led with that, I guess.”
What?
“It’s only a prototype,” Jayce says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really should have led with that. But I’m experimenting with thermal imaging, and then your dad mentioned that hunting trip, and then I got to thinking about how useful that would be for finding game in the snow–”
“You want my help?” Caitlyn interrupts him, still on edge.
Jayce blinks. “Well, yeah. I heard you’re a damn good shot. That’s what your dad thinks, at least. Why not you?”
Has anyone ever wanted her for her skill rather than her name? Jayce is waiting for an answer, and Caitlyn hugs the scope tenderly to her chest, careful not to touch either lens. At the top of the stairs, a bell rings to indicate that the table is set and dinner is about to be served.
Delight swells in her chest, and she nods. “Yes. I’d love to help,” Caitlyn says, and she turns back towards the stairs, but not before she sees excitement on Jayce’s face. It’s so contagious that she can’t help but feel it a little herself. Jayce falls into step behind her, and when she looks over her shoulder, she says, “And you don’t have to call me Miss Kiramman. Caitlyn is fine.”