My dearest Granddaughter,
I had just been preparing to write to you when your letter arrived. Great minds do think alike.
Your presence could not be more desired or required. Come, as soon as your duties permit you. I’ll not lay out here what you so obviously know. For your family you should travel to my house, for your friendship just as necessary.
My usual correspondence was surely worrisome to you. So much has been altered so quickly that I neglected such things. You’ll forgive me, I’m sure.
Hurry to the Lodge, Rosanna. There is much we have to discuss and prepare for.
Your loving Grandpere
She had kept the letter, as she did with all those sent by her family, in a locked chest in her private quarters. Not that Rosanna did not trust her adepts, but some things were better left under lock and key rather than left to chance reading by eyes not meant for the message.
The Lodge was north of the City of Elua, set in the verdant valleys of the province of L’Agnace, where her grandfather was Sovereign Duc. Nearly every summer of her childhood was spent there, by now she knew the route by heart. Still, she did not make the trip alone. By coach the journey was several days, and they stopped by roadside inns along the way for rest and to change horses.
It was midafternoon by the time she arrived. Servants in the black and gold livery of her mother’s family stepped out to meet her.
“Lady Rosanna, His Grace awaits you in the garden,” one of them informed her.
“Thank you, I shall go to him immediately.”
No change of riding clothes for her, not at the moment at least. Usually Grandpere would take visitors in his office or one of the public rooms. When family came, he chose the meeting place specifically based upon who was to be hosted. For her, they always met in the gardens.
Rosanna went through the Lodge itself, briskly walking through room after room until she came to the rear veranda. Once there, she descended the stone steps and entered the elegantly planted bed of seasonal flowers. Interspersed through the blooms were bee hives. Not only were the tiny insects the symbol of the Chalasse lineage, they were a point of pride, for their honey was the best in the region, possibly the country. She was used to the bumbling little denizens flying around as she moved from one carefully plotted garden to the next.
“I trust your journey was easy and comfortable?”
Roland, her mother’s father, was standing near a large fountain. Hands clasped behind his back, eyes slowly lifting from the water lilies in the basin to her.
“The roads were not so rough and the accommodations decent,” she replied. Coming to stand before him, Rosanna kissed his cheeks in greeting and smiled when he patted her cheek affectionately. Just as he had ever since she was a child.
“I am glad. I wouldn’t want you to be bruised and exhausted when we have much to discuss. Come, walk with me.”
When Roland de Chalasse told you to do something, you did so without question. Even his family, though not out of fear but of respect.
Together they moved into the artfully crafted hedge maze. A place she had long since memorized the route of, yet always found the act of solving the puzzle a soothing process. No doubt it was much the same for her grandfather. For a time they walked in silence, comfortable to simply be in each other’s company.
She was the first to break that silence, after a few corners had been turned.
“Will I see Odilia today? Or have I missed her in traveling?”
“A summons came from the palace, she has already returned to the City. I expect you just missed her when you left Valerian House.”
“Ah, I see. And do we know from whom the summons came?” Was it the King or another member of the family?
“I expect it will be revealed in due time.” Roland looked down at her, something nostalgic gleamed in his pale eyes. “You do so favor your grandmother, Elua rest her soul.”
“From you that is the greatest of compliments,” she replied, brow slightly raised at the sudden comparison.
“Which would then make you wonder why I would make the offer I did to Odilia,” he countered.
“The question is on my mind.”
They passed a sculpture of one of the Companions. Carved from white stone, the depiction of her own ancestor, Eisheth, was resplendent in a raiment of flowers in the hair and waves at her feet. Rosanna placed a hand in reverence to the base of the statue before continuing to walk.
“Always so devout. Another similarity between you two,” he shook his head with a melancholy smile. “Would that you had the chance to know her. But I am content that at least one of my line follows in her footsteps in the service she held so dear.”
Rosanna felt more than ever that her request for a visit could not have been better timed. There was a tension in his voice, as though he was bracing for something. Preparing himself.
“I have faith that I will know her one day, when we meet in the true Terre D’Ange.”
“Do you have as much faith in the living as well as those who have passed on?”
“Grandpere, you want to tell me something, yes? Please, simply say so. I have been worried for you, for you both.” No need to say who she meant.
They turned around another corner, the maze was taller than their of them and the Duc was certainly a towering man. Here, no one could spy, words could be said in complete confidence.
“The family is shocked, no doubt, of my actions. While I am confident they will see reason, they cannot continue to be seen as not giving their full support.” As much as their family adored each other, several members were more dramatic than others. Especially when emotions were running hot.
Rosanna nodded.
“And the Court of Night Blooming Flowers, they are as soft and accommodating so long as no weeds are perceived as ruining their perfect gardens.” Though she loved the sacred order to which she pledged herself and the lay order her grandmother had joined, well did she know that cruelty was not uncommon on Mont Nuit.
Again she nodded.
“I am in need of an ally, someone to bridge the family and the Servants of Namaah. You are the one I have chosen. Tell me, Granddaughter, will you rise to that challenge?”
Together they walked into the heart of the maze, where another statue was prominently placed. More art depicting other Companions were scattered throughout the hedges, they just had not come upon them. Yet here, this place was dedicated to Blessed Elua himself. Red anemones bloomed at his feet, filling the air with their sweet aroma.
A perfect location to have this conversation. Her grandfather was not above a little theatricality when the moment called.
“You need me to calm the family and show that my friendship with Odilia remains strong,” she said quietly.
“As a Dowayne you have power, your word carries weight. I know my proposal will cause its own ripples across society, I want to protect her. Just as you do.”
That was a statement, not a question.
“Has she accepted your offer?”
“Not yet. She is giving the matter the time it deserves to consider her future.”
“A wise decision.”
Rosanna looked up into the face of Blessed Elua, noted the cut carved into his open palm. She too considered the fork in her own path. Although she did not need days to ponder.
“Until her position is secure again, Mont Nuit will not know what to do with her. Nor will the court until she accepts or denies your offer,” she thought aloud. “It seems I will be making the rounds and hosting a Dahlia as soon and often as I can. As though that was in doubt. But I will be an ambassador to the family as well. No doubt Odilia will be sick of her numerous allies once they descend upon the City just to spend time with her.”