(read part 1)
“You’ve made your point!”
Jacques Halceaux was on his feet, cold eyes fixed on the standing Cereus Dowayne and the seated Dahlia Second beside her. His lip curled ever so slightly, “Though we might have done without the theatrics.”
“How else was I to know that you would take this seriously, sir?” Aliksandria did not back down, standing her ground firmly. She had her siblings in Naamah with her, they all stood with her, and she took strength from them.
“If I may?”
The attention of the room shifted to the dark haired, dark-eyed Odilia, seated still, who had spoken so softly.
The Magistrate smoothed the hem of his tunic, “The Judiciary recognizes Odilia nó Dahlia from the Guild of the Servants of Naamah.”
“Thank you, Magistrate,” she said quietly. Her hands were folded in her lap, still, not a hint of nerves in her posture or expression as she said, “I was not present when the initial proposal was made to remove the Guild seat from this Judiciary. I apologize if what I ask exasperates the members of this august body, but as it has been so long since the issue was raised and these many months seem to have blown this whole affair quite out of proportion, I wonder if I might be reminded what the exact proposal was, please?”
“Monsieur Jacques Halceaux, head of the Silversmith Guild, has made a motion to remove the Guild of the Servants of Naamah from this Judiciary,” the Magistrate said, “On the grounds that with your continued patronage by His Majesty the King Gustav de la Courcel, the influence of the Court of Night Blooming Flowers has grown so that the seat held here by the Dowayne of Cereus House is no longer necessary.”
“The Night Court is represented in the palace itself,” Halceaux said, barely managing to suppress his rage. “We don’t need you here.”
“We?” Aliksandria fired it at him, “Do not hide behind the faces of your colleagues, this is your grudge and yours alone, Halceaux!”
“Just so I understand,” Odilia said before a full argument could erupt, her face almost embarrassed as she held up an inquisitive hand, “Since my mind is not so attuned to the governances and the kind of thinking so important to you respected Guild leaders in your administrative and representative positions, I just want to make sure I understand clearly that the Night Court’s seat is called into question because I have taken assignations with a particular patron?”
Aliksandria caught the twitch in Jocaste nó Dahlia’s lips that meant she was suppressing a smile of amusement.
“If it is the wish of this Judiciary that I no longer accept the King of Terre D’Ange’s patron gifts and deny him access to my bed and spurn his proposed assignations, then I shall comply,” Odilia said with an arch of her dark brows. “And when he asks me why I have done these things, which of your names shall I give him?”
The Guild leaders shifted uncomfortably.
But fury burned in Halceaux’s eyes as he glared at her. “I call your bluff, Odilia. You would deny the chaos of this city with your choice to bed him? Your actions led to chaos and crime after the previous Longest Night; you engage your powerful noble friends to cripple those of us who would stand against you with an embargo that is on the brink of ruining my trade; and now you threaten us with the King’s wrath? How much farther will you climb with your vaulting ambition, girl from the streets?”
If Aliks had blinked, she would have missed it, but for a moment there was a flash of real emotion on Odilia’s face, a flicker of genuine pain at Halceaux’s words.
“But how dare you call into question the importance of our work,” Rosanna Baphinol, Dowayne of Valerian House, cried. “What we do is holy! It is Naamah’s work herself that we do!”
“Then maintain your seat on the Council of Religious Orders,” Halceaux snapped back, “If it is holy, then let it be represented in the Temple District.”
“But it is a business as well,” the Dowayne of Bryony replied dryly, with a raised eyebrow, “That cannot be denied. It is a trade, therefore we are a trade guild and thus deserve a seat on the Judiciary.”
“A voice with the Temples,” Halceaux sneered, “A voice on the Judiciary. What is next? A noble title for each of you? A silver chair in the throne room itself? Where will it end? Where can your power be checked if not here?”
“You have called Odilia’s bluff, if bluff it is,” Aliksandria pressed, “but my threat is real. This is a personal grudge that has been given far too much attention.” She turned to the Magistrate. “Either call a vote, or dismiss this motion entirely. It is time for this to be put to rest for good.”
A man of late years pushed himself up with the assistance of a black wood cane and spoke, “My lord Magistrate, members of the judiciary, the Marquist Guild finds that our business is irrevocably enmeshed with the continued function of the Servants of Naamah, and we cannot allow the Night Court to lose its seat on this body or worse, cease trade entirely; we stand with Naamah’s Servants.”
A blonde man stood in the second row and spoke clearly over the murmuring of the crowd. “My lord Magistrate and gathered guests, Cress Brion, Vintners Guild representative. The vintners met last week to solidify our position and we’ve prepared our response.”
He cleared his throat and waited for the chatter to die down. “If the Night Court, an institution at the heart of d’Angeline culture, is not above this sort of assault, who will be next? Clearly Master Halceaux has a vendetta, but where does it stop? What is to keep him, or anyone, from deciding that the wine produced by, say, my colleague Afrodile d’Nais, which is rising in favor in Court, is somehow unduly influencing the nation? What would stop us from ending up here every time the esteemed head of the Silversmiths or any other Guild leader has a bruised ego or lost a few coins to a competitor? The Vintners stand with the Night Court on this issue and, should they need to shutter their doors, we will hold our product back as well until the issue is resolved.”
There was a gasp among the crowd. No wine! A crisis! Halceaux could be seen almost vibrating with rage at the winemaker’s words. A short woman stood in the first row, “Master Brion, you’ve missed the point.”
Her voice boomed through the room, instantly getting people’s attention. She nodded her head at the Magistrate, “My lord Magistrate, assembled guests, Lina Leveaux, wife of Mason Gustav Leveaux and selected representative of the Masons Guild. Master Halceaux raises a good point, though his solution lacks the precision expected of someone in his line of work. Maybe it’s been too long since his hands touched the tools of his trade and that’s why he’s suggesting tearing something down to the foundation instead of just repairing the crack.”
She tucked her hands in the pockets of her dress and looked over at Odilia. “We can see how this could be a place of potential rot if left unchecked, but there’s no need to go to the lengths proposed. Why not ask Odilia to remove herself from all decision-making bodies until such time as the King’s attention moves on to another? Wouldn’t that be the proper solution to the issue as Master Halceaux has presented it?”
“And what decision-making bodies does she currently sit on, Madame Leveaux?” Aliksandria gestured to the woman next to her. “She is only here today at my invitation only because the issue is so focused around her.”
“Unless Madame Leveaux is requesting that Odilia step down from her position as my Second,” Jocaste said, her eyes intent on the other woman. “A position she holds because of her skills and dedication to our House, an appointment I made personally as is my right as Dowayne of Dahlia House, a title that has never fallen under the purview of any outside of the Court of Night Blooming Flowers.”
Madame Leveaux shook her head. “She’s not on any at this time, true. But if she stated that she would neither seek nor accept them in the future, that would certainly suffice.
Excepting, of course, any offered by the King.”
Odilia gave Aliksandria a short nod and the Cereus Dowayne said, “That seems reasonable.”
Madame Leveaux bowed slightly toward Aliksandria before addressing the Magistrate. “Due to the graciousness of the Night Court, all our concerns are addressed, and we now stand with them on this issue.”
At the exchange, Helene Bridault and Margot Langneau, two women known often to vote together on issues, stood almost as one. Helene was the more outspoken of the two.
She raised her raspy voice to the Magistrate. “Madame Langneau and I wish to make it known that the Silk Weavers and Ceramics Guilds stand with the Night Court and,” she glared at the silversmith, “in opposition to Monsieur Halceaux’s proposition.”
Halceaux’s eyes flashed as Helene and Margot sat. As each Guild spoke and turned their back on him, his knuckles grew whiter as he clutched his cane and his face grew more purple. A vein pulsed in his forehead. Though he did not speak, his rage was evident to even the most unobservant. He had misjudged…greatly.
The Magistrate banged his gavel once, nodding to the assembled body. “It would seem that the guild masters have made their thoughts known and are ready to make a decision, then. Let us put this issue to bed,” he chuckled at his own joke, “with a vote, then.”
A murmur rushed through the crowd. This was it! Aliksandria felt her heart pound in her throat and she swallowed against a wave of nausea and dizziness, willing herself to sit tall and straight in her seat. Beside her, Odilia sat unmoving and seemingly unmoved. It might have been a trick of the light, but the Dowayne thought she might have caught a flash of something – fear? anger? hurt? – behind Odilia’s eyes. Surely, the Dahlia was not made of stone?
“Quiet in the gallery, please!” The Magistrate rapped his gavel impatiently. “If we may get on with it. Those in favor of the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers retaining its seat on this body, represented by the Dowayne of Cereus House, say aye.”
A chorus of ‘aye’ sounded through the chamber.
“All those opposed, say ‘nay’.”
A single sharp, clipped voice echoed across the room. “Nay.”
One had to give Halceaux credit; he stood his ground to the end.
The Magistrate spoke. “The Night Court retains its seat. If there is no further business, we will adjourn.”
Aliks felt her heart slow down and she released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She reached over and squeezed Odilia’s hand, giving her a gentle smile.
“You know this is far from over.”
Odilia nodded, her chin held high. “I know.”
Jocasta took Odilia’s arm, leading her towards the door. “You have strong allies, my Second. You need not worry.”
Across the large chamber, a woman sat and watched the leaders of the Night Court talk amongst themselves. She watched the guild masters file out in small groups, chatting idly and gossiping. She watched the Magistrate confer with his aide over some papers. Finally, she turned her head to the one man who remained seated, very much by himself. His hands still gripped his silver tipped cane, but his knuckles were no longer quite so white. His face was drained of all colour. His shoulders sagged and his head bowed in defeat. Jaques Halceaux no longer appeared the venerable, powerful statesman he had only minutes before. Now, he simply looked…old.
Madame Halceaux sighed sadly and went to comfort her husband.
