Aimée nó Cereus allowed her gaze to wander as she made her way through the crowded marketplace. The Longest Night is fast approaching and it seems as if all of Terre d’Ange has descended upon the City of Elua in preparation. On her right, she recognizes the livery and crest of one of the more remote noble houses.
‘Surely these servants have been sent to the city for supplies for the holiday as well as to prepare for the cold mountainous winter ahead. I don’t envy them’, she thought.
Aimée continued through the streets enjoying the last of the riotous colors of the harvest season. Although in the middle of the bustling city, her stroll felt serene and it allowed her mind to wander.
As the “Third” of Cereus House, her days are busy and often require far more than other adepts in the Night Court. With her Dowayne’s pregnancy and the birth of Patroclus, and her Second’s hen-pecking of the aforementioned Dowayne, the fine details and intricacies regarding the day to day of Cereus House frequently fell on Aimée’s shoulders.
Though, there had been a marked improvement since Petrea’s extended travels several years before. Aimée’s own extended retreat at Balm House after that year’s Longest Night had been well deserved. The following months allowed her to, finally, take on enough Patrons to build a tidy nest egg. One she would be dipping into quite generously today.
Having been raised in Bryony House until the age of 10, like her Dowayne Aliksandra, she had been well taught the intricacies of monies and maths. But for her, numbers were a talent, not a pleasure; and her Marque was sold on to Cereus House. A lovely little blond child, meek, and lonely. Aimée was quieter, more bidable than Aliks and Petrea; who had been quite mischievous in their shared youth. She had gravitated toward the slightly older duo who would become like sisters to her. They had shown her that the fragility of Cereus House was only in reference to the delicate and fleeting beauty they all possessed.
“Remember, endless drought, burning heat, freezing cold, it matters not to a Cereus, we endure.”, Aliks had told her one night shortly after Aimée had joined Cereus.
“We are a desert flower. We survive.”, Petrea had echoed while holding the silently weeping child.
That night tucked between Aliks and Petrea had changed everything her life may have been. Aliks strove to become Dowayne and found Waldemar, Petrea and Aimée rallied the Adepts in her favor. Petrea had found love, devotion and a sense of adventure, Aliks and Aimée gave her the space and support she needed. Aliks was blessed by Eisheth, and Aimée kept her best friends from killing each other. This was the way of Aimée’s world. And it was about to change.
Preparations for the Longest Night had been underway at Cereus for a good while, beginning almost immediately after the conclusion of the previous year’s festivities. And this year Aimée was going to make a statement, a pledge, a message of intent in every way. While Aliks would shine as a pale jewel epitomizing the pale beauty and hidden steel of Cereus House, and Petrea would set the night a flame dressed in her most complementary palette, Aimée intended to take the first steps away from her role as the “Third” of Cereus House. Both of her sisters had experienced great loves and she wanted that for herself. After all, a child should be born of love, and Aimée fully intended to name a future daughter Jehanne, in Waldemar’s memory.
Having made her way through the crush of the City, Aimée had finally arrived at her destination the premier tailor to the elite of the Night Court and the Nobility of the City of Elua. Stepping inside the modiste’s shop Aimée’s eyes caught on a luxurious bolt of fabric. “How may I be of service to Cereus House today?”, the Master Tailor asked as she noticed Aimée entering.
“It is just my business today, Evette, though it shall be for the Longest Night.” Aimée replied, turning to face her long time business associate.
Evette’s eyebrow arched in query, while a sly smile teased at the corners of her lips, as she said, “So Mon Aimée you are about to take a page out of Odilia nó Dahlia’s book?”
Aimée waved away the teasing with a quick, “A Dahlia, Never.” Their eyes met which immediately led to a quick burst of laughter from the two Servants of Naahma.
Though Evette had retired from Eglantine nearly a decade before, she and Aimée had once shared a dormitory at Bryony, and reconnected as fully fledged Adepts. It was Aimée’s recommendations that lead to Evette becoming the de facto Tailor for Cereus House, and where Cereus goes the Court follows, both of them.
“Evette, I need something…Exceptional.”, Aimée whispers, almost conspiratorially. Evette quickly walks to the door and locks it, drawing the curtains, giving them true privacy. Aimée pulls out a piece of parchment and hands it to her friend. “I’ve had a necklace commissioned nearly a year ago, and I need a dress to match.”, Aimée continues, as Evette unfolds the parchment revealing a sketch of an intricate necklace harkening to the ancient days of Menekhet.
“What material did the jeweler use?” Evette asks while studying the sketch, suddenly all business.
“Lazuli.” Aimée replies with an air of nonchalance.
Evette’s head snaps up with a speed and force that makes Aimée question the health and longevity of her friend’s neck. “How much of it?”
“Very nearly, all of it,” Aimée smirks as Evette’s eyes go wide, “with some other accompanying pieces, also Lazuli.”
Evette’s eyes zero in on Aimée’s looking for a hint of jest or jape. Aimée meets the stare with a genial disposition and casual air. “You’re serious.” Evette utters, seemingly unconsciously.
Aimée’s lips curve into a smile totally inappropriate for such a vaunted member of Cereus House; it suits her. Evette takes in the sight of her friend, her quiet, hardworking, sweetly stoic, often lost in the background friend.
“I was thinking gold thread embroidery would be a good place to start.” Aimée says breaking the fragile silence that had engulfed the shop. Evette sees that Aimée is gesturing to the bolt of blue and gold brocade that she had been admiring as she entered the shop.
Evette quick as a snake grabs hold of Aimée’s hand and practically drags her into the back of the shop while saying, “I think this calls for the special stash, there is no way that jeweler is showing up my work.”
Aimée goes along giggling slightly. This Longest Night, Cereus will bloom.