During the height of the plague, the only persons allowed to move from home to home, or any other building, were the chirurgeons. Not even worship to pray for the sick was permitted in the temples for fear of spreading the illness. As soon as the terrible quarantine period ended, however, well, the message carriers had never been so busy nor so rich as worried families and friends across Terre D’Ange wrote to find how their loved ones were doing.
Rosanna, Second of Valerian House, was no different, as she nearly instantly began to write letters to each of her seven siblings, her parents, grandfather, and close friends. Once each and every letter was blotted, dried, sealed in wax, and handed off to a trusted messenger, she made her way to the temple district.
“I will return by sundown,” she told her fellow courtesans as she drew on a light cloak for the chill that still hung in the air.
A day at prayer was the very first thing on her mind when the news came of the plague at last being over. Offerings to Blessed Elua and His Companions needed to be left at each altar.
As though a terrible illness was not enough to send the country into upheaval, the disease took from them the Dauphin as well. It was as though the earth was shaking under them when the city criers brought the news to the people. So much tragedy in so little time. As none were taking assignations during the period of mourning, she elected to spend that time in the presence of the divine.
One temple after another found her paying the merchants for incense, fruit, and all manner of libations for the holy shrines. And once within, she knelt in prayer and meditation. Always a devout soul, there was never a feast she missed or a holy day not given its proper due. Now more than ever was a time to reconnect with the divine, something her fellows on Mont Nuit knew very well about her. Ensconced alone at the shrines to every angel and Blessed Elua, she gave up her offerings and knelt in respect at their statues.
She prayed for the royal family, for those who lost loved ones these past months, for the guidance of the angels in the year ahead. By the end of the circuit, which was by no means short, Rosanna felt lighter. More at peace and actually looking forward to whatever the future held. Ready to return to the Mont and her duties.
By sunset she was home again, and not a moment too soon, as the Dowayne was apparently waiting for her. Tapping his foot impatiently, the tall man with a halo of deceptively innocent curls looked to a clock and muttered what had to be some colorful language under his breath. Etienne was wholly devoted to the order and to Namaah and Kushiel, but he was more exuberant than she. In the most endearing of ways. Upon seeing her, his entire demeanor changed as he rushed forward to greet her. The cloak on her shoulders had barely been removed by the time he got to her.
“Rosie! You now come with me, we do not have all night!”
Without further ado, the Dowayne took hold of her by the arm and proceeded to pull her down through the house and to his office. As the Second of Valerian House she was by this point very used to such displays of excitement and only waved at her fellows as they rushed by. Poor Tyrphosa, her good friend, was nearly run over in the process but by the look on her face she was more than used to Etienne’s shenanigans too.
Into the office up on the second floor they went, the door shutting behind them. Folding her cloak over one arm, she watched as her mentor rushed about the room to pour them each a glass of wine. Oh, so it was one of those conversations.
“What is on your mind, Etienne?” she asked as he finally placed the silver cup in her hand.
“Only everything! Really, Rosie, you should know that by now.” He sniffed and took a healthy drink of the red he’d chosen for this meeting. “But you’ve been away at prayer all day, leaving me to wait until we could speak! When I have so much to say!”
“You know I take my place as a Servant of Naamah very seriously. The prayers are needed right now,” was her reply before taking a sip as well. Like all the food and drink served at the House this bottle was excellent. From her father’s estate, too, she recognized the blend quite easily. Now why would Etienne choose this wine? That could not be a mistake.
“Of course, I know that. But I’ve been hearing the most recent news here at home, and you must know!”
“Well, do not keep me waiting then.”
Leaning in, the anxious Dowayne began regaling her with the rumors flying out of Cereus House. Walls talk, and servants even more so. It would seem that after their own Dowayne passed sadly of the plague—Elua rest his soul—the new head of House was singular in her reign. Word had it that she had summoned one of the senior courtesans to her.
“Which one?” Rosanna asked, curious herself. Whoever was chosen would be her peer, another second in command of one of the most ancient institutions of their land.
“I think her name is Petrea. I’ve got my own eyes and ears working because I will not be the last to know just what is happening up there,” Etienne replied and pointed in the vague direction of Cereus House situated at the top of the Mont.
“Heaven forbid.”
“Precisely!” Another drink of the blended red. Shaking his head, curls fluttering almost like feathers, the Dowayne stood up a little straighter now, a look of contemplation on his face. “Geraunt’s passing has also given me reason to think. To consider what more I can offer Valerian House. And what might be out there for me outside of our walls. Especially as the futures of no few Houses are now in flux.” He gave her a knowing look.
“What do you mean to do?” Rosanna inquired carefully.
“You know I have been corresponding of late with an old patron?” Slowly walking the width of the office, Etienne held his silver goblet in one hand and brushed along the trinkets gathered on the desk and various shelves with the other.
Rosanna nodded. They had known one another for some time, her friend and his patron. A lord from the north, he had been called back years ago when his father unexpectedly passed away and left him sole heir to a seaside manor. Despite the distance, the two never seemed to forget one another and she had never seen her Dowayne so excited to read a letter as the day that first missive arrived.
“He has asked if I would ever consider joining him at his home. An estate in Kusheth. As companion, with a place already made for me in both bed and inheritance should he pass before me, but I try not to think about that last part too much,” he said with a small sort of smile.
“Do you mean to take him up on his princely offer?” The hands gripping her goblet tightened. Not with fear but with concern and anticipation.
“I want to, very much so,” he replied with a nod. “Which means, sweet Rosie, that I will be passing my torch to you. Do you think you are ready?”
For a long moment she did not speak. How could she when the moment she had been working toward all her life had finally arrived? At such a tumultuous time, too! Suddenly she did not feel as light as she had upon leaving the temple district, and yet, she was not overwhelmed so much as excited and full of nerves. Assuming command of Valerian House would be the greatest honor of her life, the most impactful responsibility she would ever shoulder.
Something deep down told her that with so much tragedy and change occurring in their world, this was simply one more spinning of the wheel. It was her turn to do what she could for the people and service she loved so deeply.
“I would name Tryphosa as my Second.”
Etienne barked out a laugh. “Trust you to already have the administration figured out before you accept the job!”
Crossing the room, he pulled her into a one-armed embrace and giggled into her red hair. She returned the hold just as affectionately. “Does Tryphosa know of her impending promotion?”
“She will when I tell her!”
Laughing again, Etienne grabbed the bottle of wine and topped up their cups. “I will gladly drink to that!”