Once Deacon had assured them he was happy sleeping at the stables in Dominio’s stall, and that Master Molbee was ensuring he was fed, he began to update the sisters on all the news he’d managed to gather yesterday and this morning. It was a whirlwind of gossip. Prudently Deacon concentrated upon the bridal candidates, their entourages, the Royals and finally, Regal Soutner.
Deacon’s hands flashing like quicksilver. It was a torrent of whom was sleeping or flirting with whom. Secret trade agreements. Who owed who money. And lastly Regal, and his movements. It seems he had brought four loyal servants with him. A rough lot who enjoyed the dirty work their master oft required of them. Three were currently housed at a nearby ale house, carousing and awaiting instructions. The fourth acted as his valet and bodyguard, residing in Regal’s suite.
Levi, according to Deacon, was left to pretty much fend for himself. The lad resorting to stealing food off trays left outside suites. Spending the rest of his time ducking his father, the valet, and the other aristo children that had accompanied their families here, but were deemed too young to participate in royal events.
The only other big news Deacon had to impart was that all the candidates appeared to be in a tizzy, due to the announcement of a masked ball to be held tomorrow eve.
Perri was horrified by the news. Scrabbling on the dressing room table, turning over today’s hand printed schedule, noting the bold calligraphy lettering that had been added there that Alia had chosen to say nothing about. “A masked ball! What are you going to wear?”
“A mask.”
“It’s a ball! According to the invite it’ll be the first time the bridal candidates are to be presented to the King and Queen. You need a dress.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t pack one of those. You said to leave everything up to you… did you pack me a dress?”
“No! And I don’t have enough material left to make you one.”
The sisters stared at each other in frustration before Deacon clapped his hands together, rolling his eyes for emphasis before signing. “Why don’t you just go buy one?”
“He’s right. Pallene is a big city, it’s bound to have dressmakers, or at least a place I can find fabric. And you’ll need shoes. And a mask. But what about Levi? I was going to spend the day… following him.”
Deacon clicked his fingers. “I have an idea.”
And that’s how Perri found herself twenty minutes later approaching her son. Her son! Darnation, her knees were trembling. Beyond certain she was about to throw up. Which would be most inconvenient, since she’d secured a pale blue scarf over her face that matched her dress. Her fingers creeping up to check if it was still pinned in place for what had to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. Deacon snatching her hand down and squeezing it hard, getting her attention.
“It will be fine.” He signed.
“What if it’s not?” She whispered back, barely able to get the words out.
“He will likely be more scared of you than you are of him. Just treat him like a patient who won’t take his medicine.”
They rounded the last pillar, and there he was, Levi, shoulders hunched, trying to look unobtrusive and small, all but hidden by a large climbing rose in full bloom that had been trained over this little used Palace entrance. Perri doubted many people would think to look back there, and as hiding places went it was a good one.
From this angle though, as they approached, she had an unobstructed view. Soaking him in all at once was heady stuff. His hair, so like hers now. It had been several shades lighter when he’d been a toddler. Now though it was too long, almost past his ears and badly cut. His face, she thought him beautiful, but too pinched and thin, his cheeks all but hollowed out. His clothes just barely fit, his wrists and ankles exposed by the threadbare black trousers and what had once been a cream shirt, but was now closer to yellow in colour. His ankle boots a sad mess, the leather pitted and worn, she doubted the soles would last much longer.
Perri wanted to dash forward, yank Levi into her arms and never let him go. Taking a deep breath, she locked her hands together, straightened her spine and channelled Master Healer Mary.
“You there, boy. Come out of there and make yourself useful. Yes, you. I see you. Here. Now.”
Levi sidled out of the shadows, his head swivelling constantly, looking perhaps either for the bullying aristo lads or his father’s brutish valet. His eyes. Look at them. They’d been paler when he was younger, closer to Regal’s colour but now they were dark blue, closer to Alia’s… and so full of fear, Perri’s heart ached for him.
“Yes, you’ll do. Come along, you can help me with my errands today… and earn a coin or two in the process.” Levi still looked like he wanted to bolt. “But first we’ll get some pastries and hot chocolate. Errands cannot be performed on an empty stomach I say.” He almost gave himself a neck strain as his head spun around at the prospect of food. A hopeful yet wary look on his face. “Lead the way, Deacon. You mentioned a teashop you saw yesterday near the high street with marvellous treats in the window.”
Deacon had done no such thing, but she had faith he would have scouted one out.
Thirty minutes later Perri pushed the last iced bun across the table in Levi’s direction. He’d already had three, but she’d caught his gaze constantly drifting towards it.
“You might as well have it.”.
“Um… but… Your Ladyship, you haven’t had any.”
“I found the hot chocolate quite filling enough.” She’d unclasped three pins, and managed the occasional polite faux sip under her scarf. With Levi sitting across from her, wide eyed, his gaze constantly travelling around the tea parlour, as if he’d never seen the like before, it had made it impossible to choke down any liquid, so Perri had pretended.
It had been a hard fought battle not to pepper Levi with questions. Instead, she’d let him eat and drink, whilst she made a list of things she would need in regards to shopping today. Gods, so many spelling mistakes, it was almost impossible to read her own writing.
Looking at Levi now, she allowed herself an indulgent smile behind the veil. The rim of chocolate and frosting around him mouth made him look younger than twelve. Resisting the urge to do it for him, she handed over a napkin. “Wipe your face, boy… I can’t keep calling you that, what’s your name?”
“Levi.”
