watercolor of hand reaching out to flowers in front of a doorway

Storyline: A Face of Mena’s Past

When the news of the birth of Aliks’s baby arrived, Mena was glad for the distraction. She’d been up to her eyes in paperwork since the wedding festivities had wound down. So busy that she hadn’t been able to sit and talk to Loir, so she took the opportunity to make an event out of their little celebration.

Loir arrived at the same time the food and drinks did, a smile on her pretty face. “Mena! Did you send our congratulations over to Cereus already, or is there time for me to add a note?”

Mena took the cart from the novice with a nod, wheeling it out to her tiny balcony that looked out over the kitchen garden. “It’s on my desk, in the upper right corner. I figured you would want to send your blessing as well. But leave it until tomorrow, I am sick to death of work.”

Loir held up her hands with a laugh. “Understood. Only gossip tonight.”

Mena sunk into a chair with a sigh. “Well, let’s still complain about work if needed, but yes, gossip only.”

Loir poured wine for them both before she sat. “That sounds perfect to me. But first, what are we eating tonight?”

“Chef made hearty stew and fresh bread, plus bought some of our favorite cheese at the market. You know the one; hard, sharp, nutty, no one likes it but me and you.”

Loir nodded. “Sounds like Chef is remarking on how hard we’ve been working.”

“That is my assumption as well. She’s right, we’ve both been nonstop. Did you get a sense of how the palace is adjusting like you’d hoped?”

“Yes, actually. It’s as I thought,” Loir said as she handed a bowl of stew to Mena. “The staff thinks this is the best thing they’ve ever heard of while the Court is divided. The ones that are responsible for the new queen feel out-maneuvered by Odilia.”

“Mmm, that’s expected though, people with power they didn’t earn are vile losers. I’ll make sure the adepts know not to bring up the topic with patrons and to do their best to dodge it when it comes up. Particularly with new patrons.”

“That is probably the wisest. I can’t imagine an anti-Odilia courtier visiting us, but caution is never a bad idea.”

The two ate quietly for a few minutes, savoring the quiet and the delicious meal. Loir broke the silence with a laugh. “Now, tell me about Kyrie. Yacinia says he had to be escorted out?”

Mena groaned, then laughed. “Ugh, Kyrie. That’s a long story though, Loir!”

The younger woman laughed loudly. “I’d hope it was! You don’t take patrons. and I’d always heard there was a man involved. Tell, tell!!”

Mena sighed. “Alright, alright, keep your dress on. Kyrie was one of my last serious patron before I took over as Dowayne.”

She looked out over the garden for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “He’s a noble, albeit a lower tier one. His family still works as shipping agents. They have a small fleet of vessels that they use to import things from around the world. Just over five years ago, he asked me to leave the House and marry him.”

Loir gasped quietly but didn’t speak.

“It wasn’t the first time he’d asked, and like every time before, I laughed and told him that his father would never allow it. This time was different, he said, his father had been killed.”

Mena paused to dip her bread into her stew, chewing thoughtfully before continuing with a loud exhale. “I was stunned, of course. His father was a relatively young man still, Kyrie was the third son, but the children are only a year apart, with the first being born when the late Comte was but nineteen.” She remembered the pang she felt for the Comtesse, pregnant almost every year for twenty-five long years, losing a dozen children to sickness in the nursery, losing five more to accidents, her body so fragile from childbirth that at not even forty she was confined almost entirely to her bed or a chair, while the Comte set about making his mistress step into the role as wife.

With a sharp shake of her head she brought herself back to the present. “Kyrie pressed me to marry him, coming every day to speak to me about it. At this time, the late Dowayne was moving to the countryside to be with his partner as his illness rapidly progressed. so I was not always here. On those days, he worked very hard to get the rest of the House on his side, to convince me to marry him and run away from all of this.”

Mena drained her wineglass before she went on. “One afternoon , we were here in my old room, me getting ready for the night, him pacing like a caged animal and deep in his cups. He was frantically trying to make me agree or at least forgo the evening so we could ‘talk.’ I was so frustrated, he wouldn’t listen to me. Then he said that we’d go to Eisheth, then I’d have to marry him.”

Loir was aghast. “This is Terre d’Ange, not some Aragonian backwater!”

Mena laughed, “That is very close to what I said actually. I told him I had no interest in marrying him and even less interest in having a child with him. He flew into a rage, throwing the decanter of wine across the room. I think his words were ‘I paid for you, your marque came from my purse, you will do as I say or I’ll force you.”

Loir gasped so hard she choked for a moment. “What? A man from the land of Blessed Elua has that kind of attitude?”

Mena shrugged, “In the moment, I assumed he was just in one of his angry fits. I’d been seeing him as a patron since I was two years out of novicehood, I’d seen childish spoiled anger out of him before. I told him that the small amount of money he’d given me, as well as every other small thing about him, were never going to be enough for me to want to marry him, let alone leave my home.”

“Good, good for you. That is the only acceptable response to that. Well, that and a permanent ban from the House.”

“Mmm, absolutely true. He grabbed his coat, threw open the door, screamed that I’d see when he came back that I would do as I was told. He cursed me and my whole bloodline as he left. I collected myself and went to the salon as I’d planned. He was only one of my patrons. so I was upset and rattled, but I wasn’t crushed.”

Loir shook her head. “I forget that people are people, even when they’re blessed by Elua. I suppose it is true what the palace servants say; the ‘smaller’ the noble, the more trouble they bring.” 

Mena laughed and ran a hand through her hair, using her fingers to comb out the knots she found. “I will say that I have found that to be completely true, particularly of the men. The women,” she shook her head from side to side, “They’re a dice roll honestly. So, I assumed Kyrie would be back in the morning, but he never came. News of the Dowayne’s death came and I took over. For months, maybe even a year, I would receive unmarked packages full of dirt, dead things, fish heads, dead roses, that kind of thing, but still no sign of him. Eventually those stopped and the next thing I know, months and years passed with no word. Then he shows up like you saw, wanting to reconcile.”

She snorted. “I will never understand where he keeps his audacity. I spoke kindly but firmly to him, reminding him of what I said when he was last here. He took it worse if possible. He threw money at me, called me common trash with delusions of importance, said that he was the best I’d get, particularly now at ‘my age,’ and that he couldn’t believe I was still ‘ungrateful’ after what he did for me.”

With a heavy sigh, she poured more wine into both of their glasses. “So I had him removed and turned over to the guards. Nathaniel and Jacovy made sure to tell the guard that he implied he’d murdered his father, the late Comte.”

Loir shook her head. “Do you think he did it?”

Mena shrugged, “I wouldn’t put it past him, particularly since he came back after all these years like no time passed. No matter though, I am sure he’ll be banned from the Night Court grounds. I passed the report of his behavior on to the other Houses yesterday.”

She leaned back and stared at the now risen moon for a long moment. “So that is the story of why your Dowayne stopped taking patrons. And that’s just the highlights, it is a long story. And one I’m glad is through. The future can begin when the Sun King arrives.”

The two sat in silence, Mena thinking about how much of her life Kyrie had stolen, Loir trying to think what to say. The silence stretched, but never became uncomfortable.

After a long while, Loir finally spoke. “Is that why you chose Love for our theme?”

Mena looked over at her and smiled. “Of course! We are Love, we bask in it, we are devoted to it alone, we should show that to the world.”

Loir reached over the table and took Mena’s hand in hers, “We will. And may Naamah’s hand bless you very soon, Mena.”