“I am working privately on projects for my apprenticeship, at least until the new year.” Thessaly said. That had been a relief on several levels, actually, and it certainly reduced the need to leave the estate. “The way I put it recently was that going out in public in deepest mourning, pretending I miss Childeric, would be the worst sort of lie. An insult to people who are actually in mourning. Mama, for example. Cyrus Smythe-Clive.” She offered the second name deliberately.
Cousin Owain snorted softly. “I heard he spoke to you at the funeral. I hope that was all right?”
Thessaly nodded. “He was kind, I was as truthful as I could be in the circumstances, and— I don’t think I hurt his feelings too badly?” Thessaly considered. “When it’s been longer, November, perhaps, or early December, he offered an invitation to visit, and I’ll likely take him up on it.”
“Have you heard from your parents? About potential matches?” Cousin Owain turned his hand over. “It’s not a non sequitur.”
“Cyrus is now an eminent match, where a month ago, he absolutely wasn’t.” That was the sort of marriage market maths Thessaly had learned to do by the age of ten. “No, I haven’t heard from them since we were at Arundel for the announcement of Sigbert as Heir, four days ago. All Mother said then was that Father was having conversations. I suppose I should see her sometime in private.” Not that Thessaly much wanted to do that, and certainly not here, so it would mean sorting out something else. “Not unless Cyrus was utterly willing on the topic. I’ve no desire to try to fill Tanith’s shoes.For one, I’d fail immediately, and besides...” She swallowed. “I liked her too.”
Cousin Owain nodded. “And I can scarcely press you to marry without hypocrisy.” He leaned back. “I was getting more of his measure yesterday, our regular meeting. And it brought up other topics. That was why I wanted to call.”
“Oh?” There were probably a limited number of topics that might be relevant to Thessaly herself.
“The first matter is - you gave Childeric a favour, didn’t you? Not that I saw it, but people noticed.”
“Yes?” Thessaly said. “It held no enchantment. Tolerably competent embroidery.” Something emboldened her enough to add, “A match for the betrothal ring he gave me. Symbols chosen with a particular point, but without investing more effort than the visible show. He did not invest magic in me, I did not in him.” Even leaving aside what she’d felt by the point she’d realised she needed to offer some theoretically personal token for his Challenge.
“He did not have it on him when we found him.” Cousin Owain’s voice was softer, deliberate.
“I do not know what he did with it between when I gave it to him and, well.” Thessaly’s chin came up. “But if it helps, I will swear under the truth-telling charms that it was simply embroidery. And everyone knows embroidery is not one of my particular gifts, nor charmwork in that mode.”
Cousin Owain snorted. “And some of us know you have gifts you don’t show.” Then he waved a hand. “I had to ask, I will report the answer back. You may hear some gossip about it. If it is bothersome, let me know and I will see about making suitable comments in the right ears.”
“I appreciate that.” Thessaly did, too. “You had other things to discuss?”
“Largely, what you have been doing with yourself, and what you wish to be doing with yourself. Your plans, such as they are.” He shrugged, and while it was reassuring that someone in her family was taking an interest, she knew he was doing it at least partly for reasons of his own. And the Council’s. That didn’t actually change her answer, though.
“I have been looking, the past few days, for anything more about what Aunt Metaia was working on. I haven’t found it yet, but I’ve only got through about a quarter of the possible places. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anywhere entirely obvious, like her desk or the current files in her study.”
“It’s a house with a surprising number of bookshelves,” Cousin Owain agreed. “And more upstairs, yes?”
“More in the sitting room upstairs, the study, a row outside her workroom, tucked against the wall, and there’s an entire room for storage above the carriage house.” Thessaly gestured back toward the boxes in the corner. “I plan to look in the sitting room more systematically tomorrow.”
Cousin Owain nodded slowly, considering. Thessaly waited him out. This was a kind of duelling strategy she knew well. She would not waste her energy. She’d let him make a move and be ready to respond. He took a biscuit, a bit more tea, then spoke, his voice quiet and even. “The question is how much you wish to involve yourself. You have, other than Metaia, no reason to do so, not in whatever Council business this might be.”
“And yet, I am involved. Because of Aunt Metaia. Because this is my home now. And even without the issues of the protections, you and every other person on the Council have far too much keeping you busy to go through books and boxes.” Thessaly’s chin came up. “Not that I’d permit a number of people access, of course.”
Cousin Owain snorted at that, amused. “I yield, I yield.” He put both hands up in the universal gesture among duellistsof surrender of the field. “And no, you should permit no one access. There’s also the question of who.”
Something in how he said it made Thessaly look at him sharply. “You’re exceedingly busy right now, aren’t you? And that’s not just Aunt Metaia, and Cyrus being new to the Council. It’s other things as well.”
Cousin Owain went slightly pale, but then he nodded once. “A number of problems with the land magic have become visible over the summer, more the last month or so. Individually, none of them are particularly significant, but taken together, they’re quite worrisome. Training someone new in is always time consuming. And Hereswith wishes to do more of that directly, this time, which means finding other people to take on tasks she normally does. Me among them.”
“She trusts you,” Thessaly said, slowly. “Is that transitive trust, because of Aunt Metaia, or something else?”
“You are sharp.” Cousin Owain was approving, if also a bit bemused now. “Both. Metaia and Hereswith were far closer– friends, not just colleagues. And Hereswith leans quite a lot on Oscar for anything requiring good sense and proportionate reaction. But my own preferences for Sympathetic magic make certain kinds of interconnections easier to work with. I’m taking more of that on, looking for links between the places that have problems. Much of it is rather tedious.”
“And so you are both busy, and with things that you do not have as much familiarity with?” Thessaly asked, to confirm her understanding.
“Just so. And others on the Council as well. Thus, if we have hopes of finding anything, we must rely on you. What we were talking about in the meeting was what we did and didn’t know about it. And I talked to Hereswith, this morning, about what she and I suspect, but didn’t bring up.”
“Are you going to tell me any specifics, or just gesture mysteriously?” Thessaly said, her voice just as even as his had been a few moments ago. “I assume you have other things to do with the evening. I have some plans of my own.”
His eyebrow went up, but then he shifted to take a small notebook out of his inside jacket pocket, flipping it open. “Metaia mentioned that she was curious about something back in the spring. Neither of us could remember exactly when, but Bess pinned it down last week to the first week of April.”
“After I was betrothed to Childeric, but before— before anything else.” Thessaly thought back. “I was rather caught up in all the social obligations. People kept wanting us to come for supper.”
“Did you notice anything around that time that might have suggested a concern?” Cousin Owain leaned to take another biscuit.
