Cozied in the Dowayne’s private apartments of Cereus House, Aliksandra and Petrea gently sipped their wine in front of the fireplace on a rather chilly late spring night. It had been a newly rare busy couple of days filled with back to back meetings, responsibilities, and last minute emergencies that demanded no one less than the Dowayne or Second of Cereus House. They were exhausted but pleased. The House was finally running like finely tuned clockwork. Aliksandra fulfilled her roles as Dowayne of Cereus House, Premier of the Court of Night Blooming Flowers, and Adviser to the Royal Family. Petrea was tackling her responsibilities as Second with vigor. The relationships amongst the Houses of Mont Nuit were blossoming. The new generation of Dowaynes and Seconds worked closer with one another than any could recall in recent memory. Petrea was working working to leverage her relationships amongst the Nobility and Naamah’s Servants to begin rebuilding the patronage that Cereus had lost due to Gerault’s mismanagement. There were several especially curated events set in the House calendar. According to Aimée’s calculations, the summer would be extremely lucrative.
Aliks and Petrea, relaxing from their busy day, waited on their missing third: Aimée. Petrea had been urgently called away from a prearranged dinner with a mutual friend, Count Niklos Shahrizai, and Aimée had to step up and host. The dinner had run longer than expected, and Aliks and Petrea had both finally returned to Cereus House. Normally, they would have happily joined, but both were in no fit state to be in the public areas of Cereus. They felt it was best to leave Aimée and Nik to their own devices. Aimée definitely didn’t need them to micromanage a friendly meal.
And so Aimée found them, leisurely drinking, lounging in front of the fire and oblivious to the fact that she had entered the room. She took great pleasure in their being jolted out of their chairs in a shocked reaction as she slammed the door closed with enough force to make it rattle on its hinges. Aliks and Petrea’s attention immediately fixed on Aimée’s face. They shared a quick look with one another, like that of novices being dressed down by senior adepts.
Aliks’ mind began to race, something was very very wrong and everything in Aimée’s continence and bearing said it was their fault. The larger issue being there shouldn’t be anything wrong. It had been busy this week, but things were going well. Aimée had dined with Nik, and while he was a Shahrizai, he was a gentleman through and through. Nothing should be wrong.
Petrea spoke first. “Wha—” and was cut off by Aimée erupting: “You should have told me!”
Petrea and Aliks tried to parse through the tirade that followed, whilst shooting each other quizzical and entreating looks.
“I have never been so embarrassed! And in front of a Shahrizai, no less! You let me walk in there unprepared, uninformed! I could strangle the two of you this instant!” Aimée paced, gesticulating frantically, all her Cereus composure nowhere to be found. “I walked into an assignation and learned halfway through that the patron is expecting nothing but dinner. Oh! I could wring your necks!”
Still rather confused, Aliks chirped out, “…but…it’s Nik?”
Petrea followed up with a tiny: “You know…Nik. Our old friend…Nik?”
Aimée looked at the women before her, who shared completely flummoxed expressions. “No, I certainly did not know! I had never met that man before in my life!” Her face and voice immediately changed to something playful with a slightly sinister undertone. “But I have now. We have had all evening to get to know one another and share so many interesting stories about our favorite people.” She finished, her eyes promising good natured retribution in the not too distant future.
At the realization that Aimée wasn’t truly livid and was teasing them, a sigh of relief escaped Aliks and Petrea as the oppressive energy dissipated. Only for their minds to truly register what Aimée had just said.
Aliks started: “I’m sure I introduced you at…” Aimée arched a brow. “But what about that one party with…” Aimée’s brow was joined by an emphatic crossing of her arms. “Surely we couldn’t have…” Aliks sent a pleading look to Petrea as Aimée began to slowly tap one of her fingers menacingly.
“I told you it was dinner,” Petrea stated cautiously.
“With a patron. During a busy evening. With a full House.” Aimée ticked off each point by raising a finger.
“He is, technically, a patron,” Aliks popped in. Aimée’s already arched eyebrow managed to gain several more millimeters in Intimidation.
“…only technically,” Petrea conceded.
There was a held breath for a moment and then… “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” Aliks and Petrea’s words tripped over each other as their apologies began to tumble out.
Aimée reached out to give each of them a comforting touch. “Forgiven, but we really need to better communicate. This can not happen again,” she said. “And while we will laugh about this later, tonight I need wine.”
She sank into a previously unoccupied chair that was also situated by the fire. Aliksandra refilled her own and Petrea’s drinks while Petrea grabbed a fresh glass for Aimée. After all glasses were filled, Petrea and Aliks retook their seats.
“So, what did you two talk about over dinner?” Petrea asked as she passed Aimée the wine, nearly getting splashed with the liquid as Aimée almost up ended the cup as she broke into raucous laughter.
After taking a minute to recover, but still fighting sporadic giggles, Aimée replied, “Your dear Nik is very well informed in all manner of subjects. I now have several very skilled individuals I shall be making acquaintances of.” As she continued a cat-like smile spread across her face, “An exchange entirely in my favor. All he received as payment was the lovely revelation that his two dear friends had once managed to dye the pristine and beautifully white novice tunics for the Longest Night a hideous putrid green.”
Aliksandra and Petrea’s faces morphed from vaguely confused, to stunned clarity, finally settling into embarrassed horror. All the while Aimée smugly sipped her wine before adding, “Don’t worry, Petrea. If he has a loose tongue, it will never be anything more than a rumor. I should know. Our dear Aliks told me the two of you burned the evidence over twenty years ago.”
And with that definitive pronouncement, Petrea delivered a well aimed smack to her partner in crime. “You told her about that! Aliks!”
Before a good-natured kerfuffle could ensue, Aimée began to laugh once more. “She did, but it is still a secret between us three and the angels,” she said whilst giving her Dowayne and Second a pointed look. “Perhaps that small taste of panic will remind you to keep me well informed the next time you think to throw me to the wolves.”
Deep sighs of relief escaped Aliks and Petrea for the second time that night.
“My love, that was cruel. Well played.” Aliks said as she tipped her glass in salute to Aimée. “Now all vengeance aside, what did you and Niklos actually talk about?”
“Mostly it was polite conversation,” Aimée replied. “There was a query on his part that stood out, though.”
“Oh?” Petrea asked curiously.
“Are either of you familiar with Jacques Halceaux? He is the current Guild Master for the Silversmiths,” Aimée asked.
“The name is vaguely familiar,” Aliks responded. “We may have commissioned pieces through him at some point. But nothing definitive or recent comes to mind.”
Aimée tapped her glass thoughtfully, “Our Count seems rather well informed. I will look into Halceaux. There was something in Niklos’ tone that makes me nervous about the Silversmith.”