Storyline: Aliksandria’s morning at Mandrake House

“My lady,” said the soft voice at my ear. “You asked to be awoken ere dawn.”  

I sighed and opened my eyes.  The young initiate of Mandrake House met my gaze for but a moment and then stood up next to the bed I was sprawled in next to my lover. 

“So I did, thank you.” I lifted myself into a seated position, arching to stretch my sore back a bit. The smell of cinnamon and warm bread filled the chamber. The lad had brought a breakfast tray up and laid out a nice spread of glazed sweet buns and fruit.

He nodded to me, and I mused that his words and gestures might be seen by the untrained as signs of deference, they were in fact an act of power. He had chosen the moment to wake me and the food to place before me.  It was he who dictated the terms of my morning.

I stood up, allowing the boy to view my nakedness (ever the adept to relish in such things), and picked up the goblet of juice from the tray. I took a sip and the pleasure I found in the exotic notes of fresh passion fruit juice must have shown on my face because I could see it in his. This was a game to him; he had gambled on this particular flavor bringing me the most pleasure and had succeeded. Now he had the pleasure of knowing that his act and will had given me pleasure. In this, there was control.  He would be a credit to his house at his debut.

“Must you go?” Said a drowsy voice from the bed, still disheveled from love making.

“You know I must. Already I tarry overlong, I shouldn’t have stayed the night as it were,” I answered, nibbling on the sweet bun.

“A Dowayne’s duties are never done, are they?” Waldemar nó Mandrake asked, yawning. He turned and looked at the boy.  “Café au lait, if you would, Guillemot.” 

The boy proceeded to hand him a steaming mug, and smiled wickedly, having once again anticipated our requests before we made them. With a wave, Waldemar dismissed the adept, and I sat on the bed to finish my juice.

“Even more so when that Dowayne is absent a Second. If Petrea were here I would have more time to sleep in with you.” I began to redress, fastening my skirt.

“Will you name a replacement?” he asked, sipping his coffee.

“I’ll not make any decision until I’ve had word from Petrea. We’ve been through too much together for me to begrudge her a few months respite.” I began tying my stays and gestured to him. “Would you help me with these?”

A wicked grin split his face, “Oh no, you know I’ve a strict rule – I’ll take that thing off of you, but I’ll not have any part in putting it back on.”

His response made me giggle and I finished dressing. I leaned down to kiss him warmly. “Go back to sleep, love. I’ll see you anon,” and with that I slipped out of the door.

At this hour the only adepts and patrons on Mont Nuit awake would be those who had yet to retire from the prior evening and, as such, the halls of house were quiet. I walked silently down the hall. It was on the staircase that I realized I had erred in assuming I was the only one up and about, for Kali nó Mandrake, Dowayne of Mandrake House, made to pass me by.

“My lady Aliksandria, how good to see you. I trust your evening with Waldemar was enjoyable,” she said, her voice nearly a purr.

“My lady Kali, it was indeed. I hope my attentions haven’t interfered with his duties.”

“Not at all,” she said, smiling warmly. “He has made his marque.  His time is his own, and it gives Naamah and me great pleasure to see you two together. Might I have a moment to discuss some matters with you?”

Of course, it should have been obvious; the Dowayne of the House knew exactly where I was and when I meant to leave. This was no coincidence.

“I really do need to return to Cereus House,” I protested.

“Of course you do, but I assure you, this won’t take over long.”

I nodded in assent, and followed her to a smaller sitting room. “What is it that I can help you with my lady Dowayne?”

Her smile was warm, but had the same hunger I saw in Guillemot’s, “May I speak plainly?”

“I welcome it.”

“Word has reached me that there is aught amiss on the City Judiciary, that we stand posed to lose our seat?”

“You did mean it when you said plainly. Yes, the Trade Guilds have put forth a motion claiming we have undue influence due to our presence on the Council of Religious Orders and Odillia’s relationship with His Majesty. They feel that we should relinquish our seat as a guild on the Judiciary. I’ve no need to tell you this puts us in a difficult position, should that seat be lost we risk having tariffs and restrictions imposed upon us by the other guilds with no recourse of our own.”

“What can be done to stay them?” She asked, slipping into the business mind that all Dowaynes have.

“In truth? They have asked for Odillia to be forbidden from engaging with His Majesty, and for assurances that such a dalliance will not happen again.”

“I see,” she said, frowning.

“Are you prepared, my lady, to refuse patronage from House Courcel, in perpetuity, simply because a silversmith ordered you to? For my part, I am not.”

She laughed. “I am the Dowayne of Mandrake house, I will not be dictated to by any save Naamah or Kushiel himself. I understand the predicament we find ourselves in, will you tell the other Dowaynes?”

I chucked. “My lady, if you know, do you think the other eleven do not? No, I intend to discuss the issue with all the Dowaynes at the great Temple of Naamah in the presence of the priesthood. I think the silversmiths guild will find many more D’Angelines find themselves in want of our services than of theirs.”