Jocaste nó Dahlia rose with a gracious smile as Silvere showed her guest into her office. She tilted her head to accept his kiss of greeting, smiling slightly as she welcomed him. “Your Grace.”
She showed him to a seat at her lounge. “It is a delight to see you again. Your letter was quite the pleasant surprise.”
“A gentleman always maintains his correspondence when in residence,” Roland de Chalasse said smoothly, his doublet pristine as he reclined easily on the chaise, “and I know well the importance of courting the Queen of the Night Court.”
Jocaste’s mouth twisted wryly. “Your silver tongue has not changed, but I am not so easily distracted by flattery as I was as a younger woman. I simply know you too well.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Just like that?”
“Do not tell me you have become a man of idle chatter with the time you have spent with the other nobles in the court?”
The hint of a smile. “Never.”
No, she knew him too well. There was something else he wanted. Something he had hinted at in the words of his letter.
His head tilted slightly as he considered her. He could draw it out but he had always been fond of Jocaste. As a younger man, he had given her very generous patron gifts and enjoyed the time he spent with her. And he knew well how sharp her mind was, so he decided against toying with what he wanted.
“I’ve come to arrange an assignation with one of your adepts,” he said evenly. “I am holding a hunt next week, a respite from the heat of the city, and I am looking to contract a companion for the day.”
Her lips pressed together ever so slightly. “I assume you have a particular name in mind.”
This time, his smile had teeth, a hint of the danger in him that had made him so interesting a lover and so valuable a patron, and he said, “I do.”
She knew well who he wanted. Who else would have caught the Duc de Chalasse’s attention? What name would have come to his ears that would have brought him all the way across the city to Mont Nuit and to her House and to her door?
Her face cooled slightly, her eyes no longer as clearly expressive as she said, “You know well my policy when it comes to my adepts. They have the right of refusal and it is their choice to accept a patron’s contract as well. We are monarchs here, I do not command them, only offer guidance.”
“Now, Jocaste,” he said silkily, “you know well the benefit of my patronage. I am in good standing, my gifts are generous, and my influence undeniable. I am a powerful friend to have and you know it.”
Yes, she did. Nevertheless. “I will not take her choice from her. If your contract is accepted, then it will be because she accepts it. Shall I have you meet with her?”
“Please.” When Jocaste moved to rise, however, Roland said, “I am too old for the excitement of the salon, Jocaste. I would prefer to have her join us here.”
“Ah, a shame,” Jocaste said, settling herself again and ringing a bell to summon one of the young novices, “She really does shine in the salon.”
“Rosanna has told me in her letters about the rumors of her skill with the chess board,” he said, leaning back against the couch. “Perhaps another time I will challenge her to a game.”
Yes, Jocaste thought, and she would certainly be a challenge even for you. However, out loud she only asked for the novice to find Odilia and arrange some light fare for the three of them.
When the time came, Odilia bore the tray herself, bringing it to the table and setting it down with a sweep of her skirts. Jocaste smiled. “Thank you, Odilia, you did not have to bring it yourself.”
“Even the Second carries trays for the Dowayne,” Odilia said with her quiet smile.
“Odilia,” Jocaste said, gesturing, “I would like you to meet Roland de Chalasse, Sovereign Duc of L’Agnace.”
Odilia swept him a curtsy with a polite, “Your Grace.”
He noticed she did not wait for his leave to rise, straightening from her almost too shallow curtsy herself and of course, wasn’t that her right as a Dahlia? He had come to their kingdom for this meeting and she would remind him of her own sovereignty within her own walls. Had she met him in his own estate, perhaps she would have shown him a deeper courtesy. Then again, perhaps not. She seemed a bold thing. Very bold as her dark eyes met his without flinching.
“A pleasure,” he said, taking her hand and brushing a light kiss over her knuckles. “Please, sit.”
A twist of one dark brow at his ease in offering her a seat that was not his, but she settled herself beside her Dowayne, both Dahlias watching the Duc as he, too, watched them. They made a good pair, he noted idly, clearly used to working together as a team as they sat easily next to each other. Different features, different faces, different bodies, but both clearly Dahlias. It was in every line of their limbs, every breath they breathed, every angle of their posture. He had been too long from Mont Nuit.
“I have heard much about you, Odilia,” he said lightly. “I thought it time we met.”
“You honor me, Your Grace,” she said, perfect courtesies, perfect etiquette. He expected that. He had also expected the coquettery that indicated interest in the feminine body language. Perhaps a smile, perhaps a modest turn of her head, perhaps a ducking of her eyes. But she met his gaze firmly, no false modesty. She was a brave thing. Perhaps the other nobles were right to be wary of her.
“I am hosting a hunt next week,” he said to her lightly. “I am not a man made to sit idle in the heat of summer, I prefer the saddle and the open countryside. It is my expectation to spend the day at a noble’s leisure and so I am looking to contract an adept to accompany me for the day. Do you ride?”
“Well enough that I will not embarrass you,” she said, her hands folded in her lap as she watched him.
“Do you have the stomach for a hunt? Some city-born folk do not.”
He saw it; if he hadn’t been looking for it, he would have missed the tiny flicker of smoldering anger and pride in her eyes. But, oh, he saw it. Yes, he had looked into her, he knew the circumstances of her birth. He watched the way her chin lifted minutely, the corners of her mouth tightening in careful composure before she answered his challenge. “My stomach is not so easily turned, Your Grace.”
Nor would she easily back down now that he challenged her, he could see that well. He had come to get the first measure of her at first glance and what he was seeing was only keeping his interest captured. Perhaps he had been expecting a vapid and spoiled courtesan, coddled and empty-headed save her the pleasure-games of bedplay. Clearly those who hoped to find Odilia to be so shallow would be disappointed. No, there was something else sharpening in his chest like the talons of a bird-of-prey waiting to be released.
“I am glad to hear it,” he said quietly. “I hoped I would not be disappointed.”
“Perish the thought.”
Jocaste watched the twitch of genuine surprised amusement at the corner of his mouth, and she knew that a patron like Roland would be captured by an adept like Odilia. This could be an excellent connection for her to make. Her other reservations were for later, just between the two courtesans. For now, she only said, “Odilia, do you accept the Duc’s request?”
“I will.”
“Excellent,” Roland said brusquely, “I will return tomorrow to sign the contract.”
Odilia almost asked him if he did not want to discuss the price for the evening, but thought better of it. Old money nobility like him could afford nigh anything.
He rose to his feet, a leonine movement of a body still limber and muscled in his age, and he swept his hand over his silver-gold hair to soothe it back into place before his eyes flicked to the quiet brunette by the Dowayne’s side, green meeting dark brown as he said, “Odilia. I will see you soon.”
“I look forward to it, Your Grace.” A challenge of her own.
It wasn’t until the door of the study had closed behind him, Silvere ready to escort the Duc back to his horse, that Jocaste spoke again. She studied her Second, who studied the closed door and said softly, “Be careful with him, Odilia. He is a dangerous man. A powerful friend to have and a deadly enemy.”
Odilia turned her dark eyes to her Dowayne, only waiting silently until Jocaste continued, “To be seen with a man like him will certainly help you. As it will help the reputation of the House. But you must play this chess game very carefully. Someone has dangled you before him as a challenge to catch his interest, but now that you have it, beware. Being seen with him will make a statement, but he will also be making his own statement by being seen with you.”
Jocaste leaned forward to grasp Odilia’s hand. “Do not let him get inside your head. He is a generous patron and he will ensure your day is enjoyable. Do not let your guard down with him, ever.”
Odilia nodded. “I understand.”