“The rest of it, perhaps you’ll owe me a favour down the road. Testing something, perhaps trading enchantment or consulting or something of the kind. I’m still establishing myself. I don’t know what I’ll need. Having a connection with creative people who solve problems, that seems to be an advantage worth having, doesn’t it?”
It made the other three laugh. “Fair. A reasonable favour, we can trade for that. Proportionate. Besides, we’re all of SalmonHouse. We know you won’t be trading solely for your own advantage, like a Fox.”
Vitus wanted to protest; he was quite sure that wasn’t how Thessaly went at the world. But it would definitely be a sign of protesting too much and too specifically to avoid comment and teasing. Instead, he just shrugged. “As you say. Oh, does anyone need another drink?” One of the club’s staff was coming around, checking for orders.
Once that was tended, the conversation settled into something broader, a mix of points from other recent lectures, something Aline had been looking up, one of the talismans Vitus was designing. By the time he took his leave around eleven, he felt like it had been a good evening. He paused just long enough to slip the note he’d written for Thessaly during the latter part of the evening into the mail drop at the Scali Bank and went home to get what sleep he could.
13
NOVEMBER 16TH IN ARUNDEL
The problem with visiting Arundel in November was that there was a dearth of places to be out of the weather that were both decorously public enough and not near Lady Maylis, Lord Clovis, or the Dowager Lady Chrodechildis. After a bit of awkward consideration, Sigbert had offered the orangerie along the far edge of the garden. It was a pleasant place to sit, with white wicker benches and chairs tucked under one area of trees. The temperature was comfortable, too, enough that Thessaly took off her cloak.
She tried not to think too often of the charmed locket attached to her watch chain. And she was careful not to draw attention to the small charmed stone tucked into the depths of the single pocket on her skirt. For one thing, touching them too often might affect the delicate enchantments. Second, she absolutely didn’t want Sigbert or any of the others to notice.
Sigbert was, she thought, nervous. That was very curious. They had been sitting for a minute or two. He had just utterly run out of commentary about the decorative ironwork and the varieties of oranges and lemons in the orangerie. He turned to her, opened his mouth, then swallowed. “Pardon, Thessaly, mayI speak perhaps a little plainly? The sort of conversation I want to have in private, without Maman or Father overhearing?”
“Of course.” She couldn’t quite resist. “I think they’re hoping for that, or your mother would not have encouraged us to go off and talk like this.”
His nose wrinkled up. “Maman does have ideas. She’s very set on you transferring the marriage agreements. It would make things, erm. Tidy?”
“Momentary tidiness is not the best reason for a marriage I’ve ever heard,” Thessaly said, though she managed a smile at the end to ease some of the sting. “And it’s more complicated than just transferring them. My situation has changed.”
“Maman was furious about that. And Father.” Sigbert met her eyes, then considered. “May I ask about your parents?”
“Oh, also furious. Mother and Father are pressing me to consider suitable arrangements as promptly as possible.” Mother directly, when they’d had tea at Cousin Owain’s on Wednesday. And Father, indirectly, though Mother had conveyed his arguments both in conversation and by letter. Father’s line of persuasion had to do with benefits to the family, with no consideration of Thessaly at all beyond being a pawn in a decades-long game of chess. Mother had, at least, talked about who might suit, as if there were choices. “You do have some potential competition. But I told Mother and Father the same thing I told your mother, that it is too early for that, even for negotiations.”
“Who else?” Sigbert tilted his head. “If I may ask.”
“Cyrus Smythe-Clive. He and I have discussed the matter, even.” It was so pleasant to tell the absolute truth there. “And Mother floated a few other names to consider. Some years older.”
“Interested in a child, then. A second marriage?” Sigbert was at least deft enough with that part. Then, earnestly, he said, “May I take your hand, Thessaly?”
The fact he was asking was a pleasant difference from his brother. Her hands were gloved against the November chill as well as for propriety, so she nodded, and felt him take her right hand in his.
“Childeric mistreated you. I would not do so.” Now, that was an interesting move in this duel, as it was unfurling.
Thessaly made a deliberate choice, blinking several times. “I think that pair of sentences needs more explanation and context, please.” It was not for her to give more away.
Sigbert dropped her hand, standing up, apparently so he could pace a little, from one side of the seating area to the other. “I loved my brother. Of course I loved him.” It sounded like he might be protesting a hair too much, actually, but Thessaly would not call him on that, not in this moment. Instead, she just nodded once, hoping it would encourage him.
“But we were different. He was always the favoured one, the golden child. He did everything first.” That was true, and it was a certain undeniable aspect of their respective ages.
Thessaly considered. “And better?”
Sigbert snorted. “That’s the thing.” He paused, standing right in front of her, rather than a step or three to either side. “He did well enough in school, but there are several reasons he wouldn’t duel you.”
“He didn’t like losing. I thought that was obvious enough.” Thessaly folded her hands in her lap.
“That was true, but it was one part of it. He wasn’t actually that good, I think. It didn’t really strike me until he was working with Master Fulton, preparing, actually. I hadn’t seen him duel much, and he wouldn’t duel me, either.” Sigbert spread his hands, as if measuring, then went back to pacing back and forth.
“Did he let you watch?” Thessaly was intrigued now, beyond wanting to see where Sigbert was going with this conversation.
“Several times. So long as I praised, not any other commentary. Fulton was— mmm. He did what was safe, not what he’d been hired for. Childeric didn’t fall over his own feet, but he wasn’t quick magically. Not the way he bragged about, made everyone assume he was.” Sigbert stopped again. “I’m not like that.”
“Would you duel me?” Thessaly put it out as a challenge. “Not today. I’m not dressed for it.”
“If it would help you consider marrying me, certainly. Suitors have been set worse challenges, by far,” Sigbert said. “I want to do the thing properly. You seem reasonable, if treated reasonably. We could have a good life of it. Make both sets of parents happy.”
