Mena heard them coming before they arrived. Loir had a razor sharp wit and a quick tongue that always managed to stay on the right side of propriety. If it hadn’t been for her desire to deeply bond with people, to understand them, and to honor them, the combination of that wit and her confidence in her place would have landed her in Dahlia.
When the door opened, Mena smiled and went to greet her friend. “Niklos, it is wonderful to see you after so long. I am glad you sent word. We were beginning to worry about you.”
She took the robe from Loir and made a shooing motion. “Off you go, Loir, the Olivier Party has started, and I’m sure the merchants will be arriving soon. Perhaps you’ll find a favorite.”
Loir sighed as she turned to leave. “I am sure my favorite will be no merchant, Mena. I saw more than enough of them back home, and they do not interest me. My Lord, it was a pleasure to see you.”
He grinned as Loir sighed. “Perhaps they might be no favorite of yours, Vouloir… but you could very well be a favorite of theirs. And that is a complicated line to walk. Best of fortune to you!” He turned back to Mena, pausing as she went to pull on her robe.
Mena turned her attention to Nik as she pulled on her robe. “Please, sit, sit! We aren’t standing on any ceremony you don’t want tonight. Leonardo opened your wine for you; we still have that crate you sent. And dinner will be here very soon.”
Taking a seat at the table, he smiled at Mena. “You should sit, too. There’s to be no dancing attendance tonight. And I’m glad to be back in the city. The plague caught us all unawares in Kusheth. I am glad you look as hale as you do. How are things here?”
She slid into her chair with a quiet sigh. “Things went shockingly smoothly in Heliotrope. Very few of us became ill and we had no deaths, thanks in part to us already being careful because of Olivier’s health.” As she talked, she selected a few items from the array on the table and placed them on the plate in front of Niklos. “I can not say the same for other Houses, unfortunately. Rumor has it that Balm and Valerian were hardest hit, but I have not heard any official confirmation of that.”
He nodded slowly, having heard something similar about Valerian. “One can’t be too surprised, considering the more… interactive nature… of those Houses. They would have put themselves into close proximity to sick people. I would be willing to bet some of the Balm adepts fell ill trying to assist in healing, especially if the chirurgeons felt someone’s situation was a milder case.” He smiled as the plate appeared in front of him, poking at things briefly. “How is your Dowayne? I know he’s been slowly declining for some time, but is he still in good spirits?” Niklos knew all too well what losing someone was like. Sometimes, and this was infrequent, it was like Uncle Demitrios’s passing, but often it was much… messier.
“I believe that to be the case about Balm, I know that there are adepts who refuse to see outside help and only get their care there. As for Valerian—” She sighed, trying to choose her words. “— heard that unlike Cereus where fragility is expected and sacred, Valerian treats fragility as something for the patron to explore and push. So they had a few adepts who were already healing, who’d been pushed to a limit that was normal, but the plague overwhelmed them.”
It hurt her to hear of fellow adepts who suffered and died when it was, to her, an avoidable situation. She wasn’t an expert, and she wasn’t sure how much of what she’d been told was true, but she hoped that Valerian found a way to honor Naamah and still guard those among them that were delicate.
Giving her head a small shake, she looked up from her plate and opened her mouth to answer, when a knock drew her up short. In came their meal, on a cart that would be left, and in a pot that was set on the stove. The novice who brought it curtsied to Niklos and then to Mena before leaving on silent feet.
“It seems we have roasted fowl, cheese, and Cook’s best bread for our meal, as well as some manner of soup that will be ready soon.” She smiled at him. “It is simple fare and I’d offer an apology but Cook’s bread is the best in the city and could carry a meal alone.”
She uncovered the fowl, the aroma filling the room. “Please, eat as you will. I know there is always more in our kitchen.” Leaning back, she sipped her wine slowly before she answered his most important question. “This is a matter of great discretion, it goes without saying that it cannot leave this room. No one outside of this household knows, but our Dowayne is in the last stage of his life. He was advised by his chirurgeon to retire to the home of his lover, the Marquis de Clair.” Mena turned her head towards the open door and gazed out into the garden, feeling tears gather in her eyes. “He departed this morning.”
Nik had been treated to the food produced by Heliotrope’s kitchens and their redoubtable cook in the past, and he knew the meal would be outstanding. He moved to serve them both and paused as he saw Mena’s eyes go distant, refraining from immediately beginning to portion out as she spoke.
He winced softly, his brows drawing together. “Oh, Mena, I’m so sorry… if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know. Your Dowayne has always been a wonderful man, and he has certainly been kind to me throughout the years. We have some Eisandine chirurgeons that we have contracts with. Not to say his chirurgeon isn’t good, but perhaps another set of eyes….” he trailed off as he saw the sparkle in her eyes, and stood silently, stepping around the table to embrace her tightly. “If there’s anything at all…” He just held her for a time, offering silent support in place of failing words.
Mena leaned into him for a moment, then said quietly, “Thank you, Niklos. Here in the House, I am the one they lean on. I am to be Dowayne after all. I don’t have anyone who’s there for me to lean on like this. It means a lot to me.”
She wiped her eyes and smiled at him. “I also appreciate the offer of a second chirurgeon. He’s been looked at by a man who teaches in Eisande, and the answer is all the same. Whatever it is that’s eating him from the inside has almost finished him. He’s coughing blood now, and the chirurgeon has gone.” She waved her hand. “Somewhere that I can not remember, he’s gone somewhere to get things to ease Olivier’s pain. That’s all that’s left now.”
Ignoring the way her hands shook a little, she reached over and started cutting the chicken into slices. “It’s harder than most people realize. He is my grandfather by blood.” Her hands were steadier when she carefully placed slices of the chicken she knew Niklos preferred on his plate. Looking up at him, she continued, “Now that you know, that makes—” She stopped to count, her brow furrowing for a moment. “That makes nine people in the world that know.”
He nodded slowly, taking in all the news. Nik hadn’t moved from her side as he watched her steel herself to the loss that she knew was coming. At her revelation that Olivier was her grandfather, he started. There had always been rumors, of course. Noble or Night Court, whenever someone younger was suddenly thrust into the spotlight before their course, there was always some reason why. They were the illegitimate child of someone powerful. Their parent had done some great but secret service to the realm. Or, in Mena’s case, it was just a simple family connection. He made a mental note to have Jacob send the best chirurgeons they knew to the de Clair estate—with introductory letters, of course—he would not have his friend’s grandfather suffer any worse if there was some way he could help prevent it.
He slowly retook his seat, his eyes on Mena. “Are you certain that tonight is still a good night for us? I have no desire to overtax you unnecessarily. But, I also couldn’t bear missing out on your cook’s food. The kitchens of Heliotrope are well-praised.” He smiled faintly, taking a slow sip of wine and waiting for Mena’s reaction.
Mena returned his smile, feeling some of the weight off of her shoulders after telling someone. She understood the need for secrecy, particularly after the plague, but that didn’t make it any less upsetting. “No, I am very sure that tonight is good. I invited you, after all. I knew what was going on here and I craved friendly company. Now—” She sipped her own wine and exhaled. “—I will leave you to puzzle out the mystery of my parentage. I know the Shahrizai mind loves a good puzzle, and this one is quite twisted up. I would like to know what you were up to while the plague trapped us all.”
He grinned. Now that he knew some of her heritage, it might be easier to puzzle out her family. He might not, though. Sometimes a little mystery was fun. He took a sip of her wine and cleared his throat before responding. “What was I up to during the plague? I was at my parents’ estate. My father issued quarantine orders and closed the property before even the city was closed. We had no contact with the rest of Kusheth, let alone any further afield, from early March until the third week in May when word finally reached us from the city that the quarantine had been lifted. We got very little news in, as Father has never kept many pigeons, and the ones he sent out when we quarantined were returned quickly with acknowledgements from the various family members who had been informed. It took a messenger of the Royal Guard to get him to open the gates, and if we’d been missed, I likely would still be on the estate. Not that I fault him… none of the residents of the estate caught the plague, and since it was spring, there was plenty of work to be done anyway. It was just… so miserably boring. I can only lose a game of chess to my father so many times before I begin to feel like he’s toying with me. Toward the end of our playing, even I could see the mistakes I was making, I just couldn’t see how to avoid his traps. Life on a minor holding in Kusheth is rather pastoral and bucolic, if you want to be a farmer.”
Mena laughed. “Niklos, not only did you, a.Shahrizai, describe your home as ‘bucolic’, you lost at chess repeatedly! The scandal! Don’t worry, your secret is safe here.”
He grinned and shrugged, choosing not to bring up Demitrios… he had to make certain everything would go according to the man’s wishes and will. But wouldn’t that be a surprise for his old friends, once he felt comfortable telling the whole tale. “Of course, we heard later that some members of the family passed, I think only one to plague, though, thank Eisheth. Thanks to Father’s proactive stance on the plague, though, we missed the funerals, but I believe the family understood. That might be a reason why I was sent to the city for this year—they probably figured I’d been cooped up with my parents enough already this year.” He chuckled before taking a bite of the chicken on his plate. “It could be an interesting summer.”
Mena nodded. “I think it will be an interesting summer. There’s whispers in the palace that Prince Gustav has been called back, patrons are finally coming back after so long stuck with the handful here, and the Weaver’s Guild finally signed a contract for dye with this new caravan. Things are finally changing.”
Niklos leaned back in his chair, a frown on his face. Prince Gustav—well he supposed he was the Dauphin now—had been called back? That was both good and bad. Things might be changing more rapidly now that he was back in town. Nik had never been thoroughly impressed with Gustav. He always seemed a bit of a fop, and there had been rumors that his eye had been caught by one of the Night Court adepts some time ago.
Nik took a deep breath and smiled. “Well, it’s good to hear the Weaver’s Guild was able to get some business done. And it’s better to hear that you’re getting some options on patrons again. I can’t imagine how difficult things must have gotten.” He took another sip of wine. “Are there any other rumors out of the palace? Anything that might have made ripples on the Mont without disrupting the rest of the city?”
Mena swirled her wine glass and rolled her eyes, “You have no idea how tedious those months were for us. We had a handful of dedicated patrons who still came.” She felt her face twist at the unbidden thought of Kyrian before she smoothed it out and went on. “I’m sure you can imagine how that played out. As for the rest of the Mont…”
Trailing off, she thought through all the information Loir had given her over the last weeks. “Well there’s something happening at Cereus that I think Aliks should tell you about. Dahlia is starting to buzz like a kicked hive. Prince Gustav’s imminent return has even the most stoic and shall we say frigid of them invested in what’s happening outside of their walls.”
She realized belatedly that might have been petty wording it as such, but she knew Nik, and knew he wanted honesty from his friends. And what sort of Heliotrope adept would she be if she denied him what he wanted most?
”I did hear through the grapevine that Bryony made an absolute killing during our months of isolation. That’s not surprising, it is Bryony after all, but I heard that this was exceptional by their standards.” She leaned in a sly grin on her face. “I heard that one merchant lost a ship at the games tables. The adept was evidently only nineteen with their marque barely started, of course. The limner’s apprentice says they scheduled it to completion off that one patron, with money to spare.”
She sipped her wine before going on. “And that was just the one story that made it out fastest. Loir heard it when she went for her most recent appointment. Word from the other houses hasn’t made it to our ears, unfortunately. You know how insular Mandrake and Valerian are, you’ll have to go there for information. If you do—” She gestured with her hands and winked. “—Remember how good Cook’s bread is.”
He chuckled softly. “I would have been one of those dedicated patrons, if I hadn’t been stuck in the wilds of Kusheth. But things happen for a reason, right?”
He was a little surprised at the almost catty comment about Dahlia, but Mena wasn’t wrong. And he appreciated her unvarnished words. “A merchant lost an entire ship to Bryony? Must have been a Caerdicci… they tend to have more lust than brains.” He sounded exasperated, he’d had some not great experiences in Tiberium, and some of the merchants still set him off.
He continued picking at his food. It was delicious, but he was enjoying the conversation more. There had been so much he’d missed out on for those months. “I hadn’t planned to check into Valerian, and you know my preferences don’t… lean towards Mandrake. They do put on a fabulous showing, and their table is one of the better ones in the city… but that might be because they contract with Valerians to be present as servers. Usually one of the Valerians…” He trailed off. Some things he wouldn’t speak about in another House. “Well, we’ll be able to talk about that later. You should come to the townhouse for dinner some time. Maybe once things are more settled for you?” He smiled sadly, knowing exactly what was going on and the implications of that.
Mena gestured excitedly. “Are you referring to the Adept Comme Assiette? That is something that must be experienced at least once even when it involves things past one’s own boundaries.”
She caught the sadness in his smile, though her own didn’t slip as she said. “Or, you send a messenger with a time and place, and I’ll come visit while I can go tell Olivier all about it after, if that’s alright with you. You know how he loves a good tale.”