Arthur had arrived at a bad time, to say the least. Only a few days earlier, the very lord that had sent for him had expired from some unknown malady, and the current lord was not only no lord at all, but also not present to receive him herself. Fortunately, the Lady Dowager Karyn Florent had received a raven from her goodbrother Garth in Oldtown, letting her know ahead of time to expect the visitor.. as if she, nor her retainers and livery were in any place to receive him. The mood of Brightwater Keep could be described as nothing else but gloomy, the sad eyes and long faces and the dark clothing were deeper than the shadows, and little light which was otherwise plentiful seemed to reach the castle grounds at all. Few people spoke to Arthur, and fewer paid him any mind, their hearts and minds in a place that was neither here nor there. The death of Lord Osmund Florent had been one matter entirely, and now the threat of war hung over their heads like nooses waiting to tighten.
"Ben," Karyn said, her voice hoarse. She did not look up when she spoke, her eyes distant as she stood vigil over her son's corpse.
"My lady?" Her nephew asked, stirring from his own dark thoughts. He was restless, eager to make himself useful to the grieving woman in any way he could. It wasn't long ago when she had done the same for him and his siblings when their own mother passed, and he could do no less in good conscience.
"We have a guest," She stated simply. "Have a guard inform Ser Rickard and Carsyn, if you would be so kind?" In her state, the simple request sounded pitiful to Ben. "With Ser Hosman in Oldtown, you must greet him in my stead."
Ben nodded, mostly to himself. "As you wish, my lady." He was turning to leave, when he realized he had never handled a matter such as this before. He was a second born of a fourth son after all.
As if sensing his hesitation, Karyn spoke again. "Ser Rickard and Carsyn will do most of the talking," She assured him.
He looked over his shoulder, unsure why, and saw that she was no longer staring into space. She offered a weak, motherly smile. He returned it, and left quickly.
"Seven Blessings to you, good ser," Ben said in the most upbeat way he could manage as he came in sight of the... northerner? Perhaps 'Seven Blessings' wasn't the best greeting then, he thought. And, upon seeing the man's ensemble and remembering where the man was from, Ben froze again. Perhaps 'ser' wasn't right either, if he's from the north? Gods, I'm a buffoon! But he grinned, awkwardly nonetheless. "Name's Ben, I'm the lord's--" He paused briefly before correcting himself, "The lady's cousin. The solar is right this way, if you're ready?"