Part One
TIme is a slippery thing. One minute, Heliotrope was preparing for the Masque, and the next it was the beginning of winter, another Masque looming in the distance. Mena wondered where the time went and why it went so quickly. One look at the mountain of paperwork on her desk and she knew where. ‘I really need to finalize my Second,’ she thought as she dragged another pile of paperwork over. RIght now—much to the scandal of anyone who mentioned it to her—she had delegated the work of the Second (and a bit of the Dowayne’s, if she was honest) out to three different people: One handled incoming novices and fosterlings; one managed the household staff; the other did the Day Errands, as they were called, the things that the Dowayne couldn’t be seen to be handling in the decent hours after dark.
That left Mena handling everything else, and that was still a lot. Many of her duties from before she had yet to let go of, but as it was, she was drowning in work. She needed a break so she could get her own head right.
As if summoned, there was a knock on her open office door, and Mena looked up to see Vouloir, one of the older novices, standing in the doorway holding a tray. Mena smiled, pushing her paperwork aside. “Loir, come in, my sweet.”
Vouloir smiled like the sun itself, approaching the desk and setting down a tray laden with a pot of tea, a small stack of cups, a dish of shaved ice, fruit, and sweetened milk, and, most surprisingly, a crisp ivory envelope.
Her training kicked in, and Mena smiled in return, gesturing towards the empty chair, “Please, please, sit down, child. Have a cup of tea and a bite of this with me.”
“Lady Dowayne, I don’t want to intrude,” Vouloir replied, her hand lingering on the arm of the indicated chair.
“Mena. You may call me Mena in this part of the House. Especially since you’ll be making your offering to Namaah next week. As for interrupting me, I am in desperate need of a distraction.”
Vouloir nodded, a small smile on her face. “As you wish, Mena. It would be nice to sit for a moment.” She filled two cups with tea and handed one to Mena along with a spoon. As she pulled her chair closer to the desk, she asked, “Aren’t you curious about the envelope?”
Mena didn’t even spare it a glance, “Not at the moment. I am sure it just brings me more work. Indulge me, tell me about the preparations for your dedication.”
Vouloir beamed. “Well, Mother and Father are coming into town, her old House is putting them up for the week. And grandmother and two of my aunts are coming up from Jebe-Barkal to do our traditional ceremony of womanhood. We considered having them stay here, but I ended up trading favors with Jasmine so they’ll be well treated and can go home with something to brag about. They’ve never been to the Night Court before.”
Mena smiled. “I am glad to see you so happy to have your family witness your dedication and to honor your father’s homeland as well. I would, of course, love to host them any time they come, but I can see why you’d want some space between your House and them, particularly since it’s their first visit.”
Vouloir nodded, “Next time they can stay here and know that the sun warms as well in Terre D’Ange as it does in the deserts. Now, my Lady, the envelope. I feel as though I might perish with excitement! What if it’s a love letter?” She gestured with her spoon at the envelope.
Mena laughed. “Loir, my sweetest child, I doubt that. I have no regular patrons, so it could not be a love letter. It has been many summers since I received a love letter. Besides, this new tea and even newer dessert are so much more interesting than a letter that’s probably just some artisan or another wanting our aid to show their goods to the Mont.” She waved her own spoon. “I am not going to tell my own adepts how to dress, why would I agree to tell the whole Court? Besides, I am not Cereus.”
Vouloir picked up the envelope and studied it. “Yes, Mena, the roasted grain tea is so well matched with the dessert the cook just learned of. I think it suits better than most of the leaf teas we have in the House. Now this envelope.” She brought it near her face and inhaled, her eyes closed. “It smells like old books, wine, and candles. And the paper is too fine to be from an artisan, plus the ink is such a deep dark blue; it had to have cost a pretty penny. This has to be from someone important! You have to open it!”
Mena sighed and waved her hand. “Go ahead, Loir, open it for me.”
Vouloir froze. “Pardon? My Lady? You want me, not even an adept, to open mail addressed directly to the Dowayne by name?”
Mena considered the words and then nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Open it. I am sure it’s nothing. And if it’s something, you’ll be able to tell everyone you knew first because your Dowayne let you into her confidence.
Vouloir snorted. “I would never. What happens here, stays here, you taught me that.” The young woman carefully opened the envelope, setting aside the wax seal, and pulling out the heavy paper within. As she read, her eyes widened. “Mena, it is from a Lord of the Shahrizai, requesting a meeting!”
Mena made a face of confusion. “What on Earth is a Shahrizai doing asking to come to Heliotrope?” She took the letter from Vouloir’s shaking hands and read it through calmly. “Ah, Count Niklos. I have met him before at other events. This makes sense now. He wants to come to discuss the current state of affairs with me.”
Vouloir gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Will you do it? Will you meet with him?”
Mena nodded, setting the letter aside and returning her attention to the dessert. “Of course. Not only is he a Peer of the Realm, but he’s asking so politely. When we finish, have one of the runners head over to his estate, and indicate that he is welcome to come in three days’ time.”
Vouloir nodded but still asked, “Me? Me dispatch a runner?”
Mena nodded and smiled at the girl. “Yes, like I said, we’re in confidence now Vouloir, my sweet.”
***
Niklos was not surprised by Jacob informing him that a runner had stopped by, wearing the colors of Heliotrope. Nor was he surprised at the invitation provided. Jacob looked at him slightly askance, but he allowed it. The man had been instrumental in the situation with the Dahlia, and he was quickly affirming both Niklos’s personal trust and the trust of the family. Niklos was certain that the man had been placed as a spy for someone in the family, but nothing he had planned went against the family stipulations.
“Three days?” He asked, looking at Jacob, who nodded. “Very well then. make certain the family coach is prepared. Once I get to the Mont, it won’t particularly matter, but I want the statement of the coach moving through the City. I want the people to know that the Shahrizai haven’t wholly vacated the City.”