“You said Laudine was thinking about some talisman work. Could you ask them, I don’t know what sounds right, but wanting to understand the geography so you could fit a piece better to that and their home in Essex? Or could you say you were working up a comparative study on the implications of local gemstones? And you wanted to compare several of the oldest and most stable demesne estates?”
Vitus felt his jaw drop. “You just came up with that, right in the moment?”
“Yessss?” It came out as a hiss at the end. “Is that a problem?”
“I have a lot of research I want to do now, but that is not actually a problem.” Vitus pulled her closer to kiss her properly, taking a moment for it. “I’ll ask something along those lines. And the paper will, I’m sure, be of interest. Please, any more ideas like that.” Then he cleared his throat. “And then the funeral was odd, but I think we’re assuming that was the ordinary sort of odd, other people’s customs?”
“Well.” Thessaly considered. “Were you close enough to see Henut Landry at the funeral?”
Vitus shook his head. “Not as close as you were. What I saw was that she didn’t take a bee from the basket, but tossed something in, something she already had in her hand. The Fortiers didn’t like that much, but they didn’t stop her.”
“It was a bee, but it was gold. And yes, she had it in her hand before she came to the grave.” Thessaly wriggled closer against him. “I saw a flash of gold. But it’s gold for the men, silver for the women of the family, copper for everyone else. Traditionally.” She added a sour, “Laudine explained that to me, of course no one else did.”
Vitus nodded slowly. “That part, definitely particularly odd. But I do not think it is the sort of thing we could reasonably ask Magistra Landry about. Was that the only unexpected thing, then?”
“I think so? I’ll think about it more. It was just all rather awful, and I wasn’t sleeping much, and everything sort of blurred.” Thessaly let out a huff of breath. “That all is better laid out, but I don’t think it gets us any closer to understanding any of it.”
“No.” Vitus heard the rattle of the door and a knock. “You see what you can find here, and I’ll think about the electricity side and the land. Is that supper?”
Thessaly glanced at the clock over the fireplace. “It is. Come in?” She called out, pitching her voice to carry, and moving away a little. “Thank you, Collins. The table would be lovely. It smells wonderful.”
Vitus let her, not at all sure how much she was comfortable with the staff seeing, though they must know. After all, he and she had been alone together for several hours now, entirely unchaperoned. Once the table was set, he held her chair. They spent the meal talking about less dire topics. The conversation ranged from some of his recent work with stones to something she’d been reading about stabilising illusions.
7
OCTOBER 19TH AT ARUNDEL
“Thessaly, my dear, will you come walk in the garden with me?” Thessaly turned from where she’d been sipping a cup of tea. She had been invited out to Arundel again, for yet another obligation of mourning.
This marked a month since Childeric’s death. Today, the mirrors were uncovered, and the household returned to something like its ordinary function. There had been offerings down at the cemetery, a solemn procession filled with far too many hothouse lilies and more seasonal chrysanthemums. Thessaly had carefully dodged anyone adding wisteria to the flowers she left. That meant purity and true love. She refused to lie like that, even with flowers.
Thessaly had helped clear the previous flowers, and to lay down the fresh ones, however. She wanted to detach herself from the Fortiers as best she could. But she did not see a reason to make enemies if it weren’t actually necessary. And whatever she felt about Childeric, his mother had loved him.
Now, Thessaly set the cup down. “Of course, Lady Maylis.” She waited for the older woman to precede her, and a minute or three later, they were out on the garden paths. It was getting a little brisk, but not actually cold. Thessaly would far ratherbe at Bryn Glas, but she should be able to make a polite escape before tea time. There was something still nagging her about why she couldn’t find Aunt Metaia’s working papers, the notes to whatever she had been worried about.
It was clear to Thessaly that Lady Maylis had something specific in mind. The others of the immediate family were well away. Lord Clovis was talking to his brother-in-law. Laudine and Dagobert were by themselves. Bradamante and her daughters were talking quietly in a corner with her mother. Thessaly did not actually know where Sigbert had gone, or Garin. Though Garin had probably found a place to sit and read a book, or something else that would not attract too much attention.
“Thessaly, my dear.” They’d just entered the formal gardens when Lady Maylis spoke. “It has been such a help to have you here, to have you joining us for our customs. I hope they have been of some comfort to you.”
Mostly, they had been uncomfortable. Emotionally, physically, usually both at the same time, with a side of decidedly awkward. Thessaly cleared her throat. “They go back a long way. I am glad you have such a respect for them.” She was, at this point, wanting some of her own family customs. That would come on All Hallow’s in another fortnight. She tucked that thought away for later as well. “If my presence has eased anything for you, I’m glad I came.”
“We had such hopes for him. For both of you, for the children you’d have. For his place in the world, I was certain that— well. Whatever childish foibles would have fallen away, like a shed dragon scale.” It was a curious metaphor, that, since a lost scale in lore also suggested the place a dragon might be vulnerable. “I know that some of how he went about things was confusing to you.”
Upsetting, confusing, those were two possible words. She could think of quite a number of others. Perhaps some night she would work her way through an alphabet, playing a game like the parson’s cat. The parson’s cat was an aggravating cat. The parson’s cat was a belligerent cat. The parson’s cat was a conniving cat. Yes, she would be playing some rounds of that in the future.
Unfortunately, it meant she’d missed a reply. She coughed, murmuring a pardon, before she managed, “Very confusing. I always felt at least a step behind, not at all what I wanted.” For all sorts of reasons, both her own comfort but also that it was impossible to attempt to match someone who hoarded information like a dragon. The parson’s cat was a draconic cat.
“Ah.” That single syllable was near impossible to read. The parson’s cat was an exasperating cat. “I was wondering if you would consider something. Will you hear me out?”
Thessaly felt she didn’t really have a great deal of choice in the matter. Turning and fleeing would be rude, and also a sign of weakness. And on a purely tactical level, she was fairly certain she couldn’t get to the portal without someone stopping her. She turned, glimpsing someone who’d been walking along behind the hedge, dividing the formal garden from the alchemical one. By the height and shape, she thought it might be Sigbert, whoever it was moved too freely to be Dagobert.
“Of course, Lady Maylis.” Thessaly turned, slightly, to focus on the conversation, and Lady Maylis paused. They were standing near a gap in the hedge behind her and a gate leading into the poison garden.
Lady Maylis gathered herself, rather literally. She picked up her skirts and rearranged them, the sort of movement every woman of breeding - and bustled skirts - did a hundred times a day. Now, though, it was a point of punctuation. The parson’s cat was a fastidious cat. The parson’s cat was a guarded cat, theway she gathered her power around her. It put Thessaly entirely on edge.
“Have you given any thought to your future, your plans for your life?” It made Thessaly cautious, even more so than she had been. The parson’s cat was a harrowing cat.
“First, to finish my apprenticeship, in due course. I have some projects to work on privately for a few months, likely until the new year. I have not wanted to be out in public, even for that. Anything else is, well. It feels far beyond me.”
