Storyline: Homesick in Tiberium

Petrea nó Cereus stared out the window of the beautiful house and felt…disappointed.  She had been in Tiberium for weeks now and had expected to feel…happy? Relieved? Satisfied? She didn’t know how she had expected to feel exactly, but disappointment wasn’t it.  It had everything she dreamed of: beautiful buildings, delicious food, fascinating history, exotic peoples from all over the world and, most importantly, Marco.  At first, Tiberium felt magical, just as every other city and country they had visited.  And being in Marco’s home was even more special as he excitedly showed her his city, taking her to all of his favorite places, and proudly introducing her to his friends.  But she quickly grew weary of Tiberium, and of its people.  The Tiberians knew what she was and shunned her.  Just as Aliks had predicted.  It was worse than Aragonia, and far worse than Alba.  There was no reverence or protection for courtesans here.  Petrea was tired of hiding herself and pretending to be someone she was not.  She was no Tiberian matron, no lady of the house. 

She turned her gaze to where her lover sat at his desk, bent over business sheets, and smiled to herself.  Being with Marco was everything she had expected and everything she had hoped for.  He was loving and attentive, kind and caring, and so excited to show her the life that they could live together.  But his nearness couldn’t seem to fill the emptiness she felt.  She had put on a brave face for him, trying to find solace in his happiness at her presence in his home.  But even his joy and his passion could not make up for the hole in her heart.

Simply put, his love could not make up for home.  It was home that Petrea missed.  Not just Cereus House and the City of Elua, but her chosen family there: her best friend and Dowayne, Aliks, the adepts she was helping train, the members of the other Houses, and the nobles who she took as patrons.  Blessed Elua, she even missed the foolish gossip that had driven her away in the first place.

Petrea knew that trouble was brewing in the City of Elua.  Letter from Aliks had been waiting in Tiberium: the Judiciary was closing in on the Night Court and the guilds were at each other’s throats.  As Second of her House, Petrea knew she had responsibilities to her House and she worried that she was ignoring them – and for what?  She feared that her absence might have consequences that could not be undone.  Her forehead creased in a frown as she thought over what she should do.

As she stared out the window at the setting, Marco came up behind her and put his arms around her waist.  He nuzzled her neck and kissed her throat.

“What troubles you, love?” he whispered in her ear.

She sighed, leaning back into him.  “Thoughts of home, I suppose.”

She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around him.  

“I worry,” is all she could say, resting her head on his chest.

He turned her face to his and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Come with me,” he said softly. “Let me distract you.”

Petrea closed her eyes.  Disappointed in her situation? Yes.  Missing home? Yes.  But what would happen to their relationship if she left Marco and went home?  Would she lose him?

She couldn’t stand to think about that and so she let him guide her to his bedroom.

Storyline: A Letter from Aragonia

My dearest Aliks,

We have been several weeks in Aragonia and, thank Elua, I have been able to arrange our accommodations this time. Upon arrival in Amílcar, our presence was requested by Ramiro Pascual de Soria y Borja, Marqués of Almazán, the son of the Duque de Soria who has traveled to Terre d’Ange through his family business dealings. Aragonia is not like Terre d’Ange in its ways of love and the Marqués was thrilled to find a servant of Naamah in the city. He requested the pleasure of an assignation at any price. I negotiated food and lodging for the duration of our stay in Amílcar, which he felt was quite the bargain. Perhaps it was, but the idea of not sleeping in yet another crowded, smelly inn is worth more to me than any amount of money I could fathom at the moment. I was surprised when Marco balked at the idea of my serving another patron! While we may be traveling together, I am still who and what I am and we are not wed. He has always known that I have other patrons and this is the first time he has expressed any jealousy. Aliks, I was truly shocked. He did eventually calm down and I spent a luxurious night with Ramiro.

Marco has not been as fortunate as I in his business ventures. We learned from the Marqués, whose family owns silver mines here, that the silver trade has slowed considerably due to a new and quite unexpected D’Angeline embargo on the metal. This has thrown the international silver market into disarray and caused a ripple effect into other markets. Traders and merchants are confused by the embargo, as there are no conflicts between Terre D’Ange and any other nations. Ramiro has, however, heard rumors of internal conflict between the guilds. Whatever the cause, there is fear this embargo could affect Terre D’Ange’s relations with its partner nations and have serious implications for future alliances.

While days are difficult for Marco, I find enjoyment in exploring the city, delighting in the vast differences between here and home, seeing the beautiful architecture, and visiting local shops. I do, however, feel I am quite the stranger, as I did in Alba, not speaking the language or knowing the local customs. Would that I were Phedrè nó Delaunay – able to blend in to any country and learn the language! I have been fortunate in that the Marques has provided me a servant girl from his household to serve as my guide, so that I am not completely lost. She has advised me to hide my marque, as the Aragonians would not look so kindly upon it. I was expecting different customs and attitudes, but I am not ashamed of who I am and hiding my marque felt uncomfortable. I suppose that if I am to conduct myself as Marco’s betrothed, I should expect to adapt. Ah the things we do for love, yes?

Always yours,

Petrea

Storyline: Aliks’s Reflections

From the private journal of Aliksandria nó Cereus, Dowanye of Cereus House

I feel as though the world presses on my shoulders more and more every day. Perhaps I was foolish to let Petrea go off on her grand tour, as everything appears to be falling apart at the seams. Thank Elua I have Waldemar to distract me.

The notion of having our seat on the Judiciary is an old one, but a contentious one amongst the guilds and the Dowaynes are, frankly, tired of having to fight for our place as a legitimate guild. We maintain our business operations just as any other guild and have the right to present our views on important issues that affect us. Simply because we use words like adept and Dowayne does not make us any less legitimate than if we called ourselves apprentices and master craftsmen. One pays for the service of a Night Blooming Flower just as one pays for cut gems and dyed silk! I grow more frustrated and angry each time I think of these foolish arguments from these foolish guildsmen.

The Dowaynes met in anticipation of the upcoming Judiciary meeting and it was not a quiet affair. The reactions from the other Houses ranged from dismissive to outraged to fearful. While the general consensus is, of course, that the Night Court must maintain a seat on the Judiciary, the way in which to best present our case is not so simple.

The crux of Monsieur Halceaux’s angry argument lies, of course, in Odilia’s romance with the King. But we are servants of Naamah and Blessed Elua and we follow the tenet of love as thou wilt. To deny Odilia and Gustav their affair would be tantamount to heresy and treason. To hold the threat of removal from the Judiciary if we do not turn away House Courcel is asking us to either step aside as a guild or commit treason! How could any D’Angeline ask this of another?

Their real fear is that a courtesan is influencing the King in matters of state. The idiots. How do I convince these halfwits that the King, while young, is capable of his own thoughts and decisions, that Terre d’Ange is not being ruled from Dahlia House?

Would that I had my Second here to discuss this. Instability at Cereus House reflects poorly upon us all and I fear that they will use this against us. If one cannot keep one’s own House in order, how can one possibly hope to maintain order throughout the other Houses?

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.”

Storyline: A Letter Leaving Alba

Dearest Aliks,

I pray that my parcel has reached you safely.  The beautiful painting was done by a trader friend of Marco’s and, when I saw it, I knew immediately that it must hang in the halls of Cereus House.  It depicts a phenomenon called the Northern northern lights painting Lights, a most magical event only seen in the most northern areas of the world.  Please accept this gift with Marco’s and my affections.

After a month here in Alba, Marco’s business is finally complete and we will head for Aragonia and continued adventures.  My time with Marco is wonderful and I do not regret my decision to join him.  Alba is beautiful – green as emeralds, just as the poets write –  and, without Marco, I surely never would have visited on my own.  Thanks to Blessed Elua and Naamah that I have the chance to see this lovely isle before our next destination.  I do, however, dearly miss home and my friends and loved ones in the City and at Cereus House.  While Marco has done his best to secure the highest quality lodgings, I now realize just how spoiled I have been growing up in the Night Court.  He has even taken to teasingly calling me Princess when I struggle to hold my tongue over cold baths or lumpy beds of straws!  

Marco promises that once we reach Tiberium, we can settle into a much more leisurely pace and truly be together as we would like.  Perhaps once I have experienced this, I will know better if I do wish to leave the life of a Servant of Naamah and become Marco’s wife.  Only time will tell.

All my love,

Petrea

icon

 

 

Storyline: A letter from the Port of Morhban

My dearest Aliksandria,

Tomorrow we sail for Alba and, after days crammed in a small coach, I look forward to anything with more space and open air!  And, yes, I will concede to my discomfort at our lodgings.  While Marco has done everything in his power to secure rooms at the finest inns, I have had to turn many times to my training so as to school my face and not show my distress at the sights and smells of some of our accommodations.  But, while the rooms may be drafty and firewood scarce, every Servant of Naamah knows there is no shortage of ways to keep oneself warm at night with one’s lovers at her side.

The Duc de Morhban gave us lodging last night – such luxury after weeks of discomfort!  He dined with us and, as happens with nobles living in the provinces, he wanted all the gossip of the City.  It seems I cannot escape the nobility ever slavering for gossip of Odilia and Gustav, no matter how far I travel.  Perhaps things will be better in Alba?  He mentioned having heard somewhat of the Longest Night, asking endless questions of my thoughts on Odilia.  It leaves one to wonder what information he truly sought.   

This morning Marco showed me the ship that we are to board and, oh Aliks, it is marvelous.  The sails practically glowed in the morning sunlight that glanced off the water.  And the air smelled of salt!  I never considered the notion that salt truly has a smell, but it does, and the sea smells of it.  Of course it was terribly cold, not that one could tell by the sailors moving about the docks.  One would think it a fine spring day by the way they go about their business in shirtsleeves and breeches.  These are clearly (handsome) men of great fortitude, and Marco was highly entertained by my unabashed staring – and theirs in return.  

While I admit no lack of trepidation at setting off to sea in the morning, my heart sings with great excitement at the next step in this journey and the adventures that may lie ahead.  My next missive to you shall be sent from the green shores of Alba! 

All my love,

Petrea

icon

Storyline: Petrea’s Traveling Clothes

Sunlight streamed through the large windows of the salon as Dowayne Aliksandria nó Cereus lounged on a chaise, drinking wine with Marco Meridius, the Tiberian trader who would soon be taking her Second on a grand tour of the world.  Standing in front of them, the object of their discussion and Marco’s affection, Petrea nó Cereus her arms held aloft as a tailor pinned the waist of a finespun wool gown in deep blue.

“The fabric will serve well in Alba, and the color brings out her eyes, does it not?” Aliks commented, refilling Marco’s glass.

He murmured an assent, a grin playing on his handsome face.  

They were in the large salon of Aliks’s private apartments at Cereus House, supervising the creation of Petrea’s wardrobe for the long journey.  At Aliks’s insistence, the finest couturier had been commissioned to come to Cereus House specially for the job.

Petrea frowned at herself in the full length mirror and met Aliks’s disapproving gaze.

“That’s an unflattering look on your face, my dear,” she scolded.

“I still don’t see why we had to bring the couturier here,” Petrea scoffed.  “There is simply no reason that Marco and I couldn’t have gone to Le Designeur Royal ourselves.”

The Dowayne shook her head.  “It would not be fitting of the Second of Cereus House.  We must maintain the highest standards in all things.  We do not simply walk into an atelier like anyone else and ask for an appointment.  If the Second of Cereus House needs a gown, or a cloak, or a full traveling wardrobe – as you do – then the couturier will come to you.”  She shrugged.  “That’s all there is to it.”

Marco grinned.  “And it’s not as if you don’t deserve to be treated with the utmost care and concern, my love.  You should listen to your friend.”

“Why, I do believe you two are plotting against me!” Petrea teased.

“Hardly.  We are plotting for you, darling.”  Marco caught her eye in the mirror and gave her a wicked smile.

At that she laughed and threw up her hands.  “Alright!  Alright!  I give up!  I will take this pampering you are forcing upon me.”

Aliks sipped her wine.  “Enjoy it while you can.  You’ll not receive such lavish treatment along your journey,” she warned gently.

Petrea nodded.  “I know,” she said softly, toying with the lush fabric draped over her body.  “Marco has been telling me about our travel arrangements and accommodations along the way.  And while it may not be the genteel lifestyle of Cereus House, I think it should be enough.  And besides,” she smiled coyly at his reflected gaze, “we’ll be together.”

At that, Marco stood quickly and strode over to Petrea.  He swept her into his arms, pins and fabric falling to the floor.  She laughed, throwing her arms about his neck, kissing him.

He turned to Aliksandria.

“Excuse me, my lady, your Second and I have some additional business to attend to.” 

 

Storyline: Petrea’s answer to Marco

Petrea, Second of Cereus House, held out her sealed letter to the messenger bound for Tuberium.  She handed him a gold coin.  “You know where to deliver this?  You’re certain?  This is highly important that it reach its destination with all haste.”  She spoke insistently, with almost an air of desperation.

The courier smiled.  “My lady, I will put it in the gentleman’s hands myself.  I know him well and will see he gets it as soon as I am able.”  

He winked at her and grinned.  “I am certain that any correspondence from you is of the utmost importance.”

He took her letter and placed it in his saddlebag.  He patted the bag firmly.

“I shall protect this with my life!” he said with mock bravado, spurring his horse.

Petrea laughed and waved to the young man as he rode away.

My dearest Marco, 

I cannot, at present consent to becoming your wife, much though the thought intrigues me.  I offer you instead a counterproposal.  As a sort of trial engagement, I propose that I join you on your next trade voyage wherever that may take you.  I know not of your life, other than your stories, and should like to experience it for myself before making my decision.

I shall await your reply, and instructions as to the garments I should bring.

All my love,

Petrea

One week later an exhausted courier delivered a hastily scrawled letter to Cereus House.

My darling,

I will return within the week to collect you.  Pack for Alba.  I shall take care of everything else.

Yours,

Marco

Three days later, he arrived.  

icon

Want the backstory?

Storyline: Petrea nó Cereus’s future

Several days after the Masque, Aliksandria, Dowayne of Cereus House and her Second, Petrea, met to discuss a marriage proposal Petrea has received from a long time patron. The proposal was sudden and unexpected and Petrea is giving serious consideration to accepting, and leaving the Night Court.

“I don’t understand,” said Aliksandria. She and Petrea were sitting in her private chambers, drinking wine, and having the long awaited and uncomfortable discussion. “Is it children you want?”

“Of course not,” said Petrea, scoffing at the assumption.

“Because if it is, you needn’t leave the Night Court over it. You know that both my parents were working adepts when I was born, and for many years thereafter.”

“I am not leaving to have children, Aliks,” the Second said quietly.

“Then why? Do you have any idea what the life of a Tiberian matron is like? You know what threats came to Odilia after the Masque! And that was here, in Terre d’Ange, where Naamah’s service is a divine calling, entered into as a sacred trust. What do you imagine it will be like in Tiberium where you are not a revered servant of Naamah, but a whore?” Aliks snapped.

“You needn’t shock me with such language,” said Petrea sharply.

“Really? You don’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, or at the very least you fail to explain it to me.” Aliks looked pointedly at her friend

“I’m simply tired of it all,” Petrea said sadly.

“Tired of what? Our life? This was our dream, yours and mine. Whispered to each other in the small hours of the night as children in these halls. To one day rise to be the premier courtesans, and run Cereus House, together. Don’t you remember, Petrea?” Aliks pleaded, taking her friend’s hand.

“Was it our dream, or you dream for us? I don’t know anymore. All I have ever known is the Night Court, and I grow weary of gossip, and fetes, and frivolity,” Petrea said with frustration, standing to pace the room.

“Is that truly all you think Mont Nuit is? Frivolous ornaments good for nothing but to share the exploits of others?” Aliks was aghast.

“No, no, of course not, but you know of my weariness. Besides, it is likely Odilia is to become the consort of the Dauphin! It is the same thing, except that I cannot be Marco’s consort and he does not live in the City! Both Odilia and I are following our hearts, our love! She dealt with her threats and I will deal with mine!” the Second said, her voice rising with vehemence.

The Dowayne shook her head. “Oh Petrea, your situations are so different. It is as if you were to compare the moon to an apple and say they are identical because they both look round. You are seeing only with your heart and not with your head, love.”

Petrea sat down on the chaise next to Aliks. “But I do love Marco and clearly he loves me. He did propose marriage.”

“Well of course he did! You are beautiful, kind, intelligent, and quite skilled in Naamah’s arts. You don’t actually expect me to believe this is the first time a patron has proposed to you after an assignation. Blessed, Elua, I’ve lost count of the proposals i’ve received over the years.”

“No, it isn’t, but I’ll not pretend disinterest in this particular offer. This is not an easy decision and I don’t make it without careful thought and consideration. I would hope that you know me well enough to understand that.”

“Well of course it isn’t easy. If it were, we would not be sitting here, having this difficult discussion. You either would have left with him immediately after the Masque, a ring on your finger; or we would be sitting here, drinking this wine, laughing about yet another proposal from a besotted patron!”

Aliks paused, turning thoughtful.  “When does Lord Marco return? In a fortnight?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Petrea replied with surprise.

“Oh don’t look so shocked.” Aliks smiled. “As important as he is to you, I make it my business to keep tabs on his schedule and ensure that you have ample time with him when he is in the City. And after he leaves, how long will he be gone then?”

Petrea thought for a moment. “He is bound first for Alba. After that, I know not his route, though I would presume he will return to Tiberium at some point. He’ll like as return to the City six to eight months hence. Perhaps longer?”

“Then I propose this: go with him. Go and see a world outside of Terre d’Ange. Why, you have never been farther than your parents estate in Namarre. Go see this great life he is promising you. You know what a life in the Night Court is like; see the alternative.”

“I can do that? just leave for half a year or more?”

“Why not, who is to stop you? Your Dowayne? I warn you, Petrea, the world is not kind to courtesans and you would be best to consider…” Aliks toyed with a phrase, “…calling your relationship with Lord Marco something other than it is..at present.”

Petrea thought a moment as Aliks’s words sunk in. Aliks was speaking to her not just as a friend, but also as her Dowayne. The notion of not only traveling with Marco, but telling strangers that she was his wife? Would that affect her ability to make a decision?

Aliks continued, all business. “Now for guild purposes, we will write it up as an extended assignation, so you retain guild privileges and protections. Your marque is made, and your fees are yours to dictate between you and Lord Marco. When you return you may either tithe a portion to the house, or keep it as a dowry with my blessing.”

Petrea weighed the offer carefully, then smiled and agreed, hugging her friend. She had been dreading this conversation; had still been unsure of her decision. This was a beautiful compromise.

“This is perfect. Brilliant even. I knew there was a reason I love you so much.”
She dropped a kiss on her laughing friend’s brow and hurried back to her apartments to write a letter to Lord Marco and prepare for the voyage.

icon

Video: Petrea’s Offer

(click image to open video)

 

 

PETREA NO CEREUS and MARCO DECIMUS, her lover, lie in bed in her private chambers after an intimate evening.

PETREA

I wish your time in the city were not so short. Your visits come far too rarely for my tastes. You scholars – how you do wander. It’s a wonder you visit me at all, what with you jaunting from one end of the world to the other.

MARCO

(chuckles)

You know that I always make my way to you, no matter where my travels take me, dearest.

How go your plans for the Midwinter Masque? I know from your letters that Aliksandria tasked you with the preparations.

PETREA

(groans)

MARCO (CONT’D)

You have concerns of the ball? Or is it this scandal you have written about that troubles you?

PETREA

Oh the ball, itself, will be spectacular. But I fear there shall be no joy for me on the Longest Night. You know the City of Elua loves nothing more than a scandal. And I hate nothing more than a scandal – so tiresome.

(annoyed)

The gossiping grows worse by the day. One can no longer avoid the rumor mongering. There is even a whisper that I am humiliated by the thought of another Second being chosen over me – when nothing could be further from the truth. It has gone too far. The foolish stories are on the lips of every person in every shop on every corner throughout the city, not to mention in every chamber of every House here on Mont Nuit.

(angrily)

There is literally no one I do not hate right now.

MARCO

(laughs, then his voice turns serious)

You seem less and less content each time I see you. And this..this seems too much for you.

He pauses briefly as if something has occurred to him.

MARCO (CONT’D)

(thoughtfully)

Would you ever consider leaving the Night Court?

PETREA

You mean retire? It is not…it is not done.

(sadly)

One does not retire for the simple fact that one is unhappy in one’s place and dislikes courtly gossip.

MARCO

No, no, of course not. But there are other reasons for leaving. Marriage, for example. Others who have made their marque have married and left the Night Court. Left the City. Left Terre d’Ange, even.

PETREA

(thinking out loud)

Marriage? Well, yes, that does happen. But who would I marry? I have dear friends, it is true, but not any who would agree to a marriage of convenience and certainly not any whom are not entangled in..oh.

She pauses as his meaning dawns on her

PETREA (CONT’D)

Oh.

She is silent for a moment, realizing what he is suggesting.

PETREA (CONT’D)

Are…are you proposing marriage?

MARCO

I am.

PETREA

But surely you wish to marry for love, and not simply to take pity on an unhappy woman.

MARCO

I do wish to marry for love. And I would be.

PETREA

Oh.

MARCO

I love you. I love you more than any words in the world can express. Why do you think I come back to you time and again?

PETREA

I thought you enjoyed my company. That I was a stop along your way back to Tiberium from…wherever it is you go.

MARCO

Well there is that, but you are so much more to me than that. Marry me. Come to Tiberium with me. I have a home there. Perhaps not quite as lavish as Cereus House…

PETREA

(laughs)

MARCO (CONT’D)

(his words coming faster)

..but it is comfortable. Let me take you away from here. Away from this life that you do not love. We could travel if you like. Let me show you the world. There is so much more than what you have seen and experienced here in the City. Or not. We don’t have to travel. We can stay in Tiberium. We can have children if you like. Or not. You can study at the university if you like. Or not, if you do not wish. It matters not.

(more gently)

All that matters is that you come home to me at the end of each day. Whatever you want, I will give you.

(quietly)

You can return as often as you like. Whenever you like. I know that there are people here that you love and could not bear to be separated from forever. I know that this is your favorite time of year, and I promise that we’ll always arrange any travels so that you’re here at Cereus House for the Midwinter Masque.  What do you think?