Masque Prep Fanfic: Petrea nó Cereus

spools of thread and sewing scissorsPetrea nó Cereus stood in front of the full length mirror as an adept of Eglantine House busied himself around her with fabric and bric-a-brac, sketching and stitching the beginnings of her costume for this year’s Midwinter Masque.  She frowned at the mirror, unhappy with her reflection.  She was getting on in the years, the beauty of her youth seeming to fade faster and faster every day.  But wasn’t that almost the point of Cereus House – for one’s beauty to fade?  How was that supposed to be something to be admired?   Petrea sighed.  How had she ever risen to Second of the most glorious and noble House of the Night Court with thoughts like that?

Outside the room, Petrea could hear adepts gossiping in low tones.  Of course, no one could stop talking about the affair between the Dauphin and Odilia nó Dahlia, and certainly not in the Night Court.  The mood in Cereus House seemed to be one of the biggest topics of discussion and whether or not the Prince choosing a Dahlia was seen as a slight to the oldest and most noble House.  Petrea shook her head and absently stroked the Eglantine adept’s head.  Did people really think that the Prince had purposely fallen in love with Odilia out of spite?  The social politics of the Night Court – and noble Court, for that matter – drove her practically to madness at times.  But gossip as thou wilt was practically a second tenet of the City, so she could not ignore it, lest she look foolish to her patrons and bring dishonor to her House.  

Turning her thoughts back to the grand plans for the Masque, Petrea reminded herself to make sure her private invitations had been delivered.  The position of Second did allow her certain privileges and she didn’t hesitate to take advantage of them when it suited her.  It had been a difficult year and she planned to enjoy every moment of the Longest Night.

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Masque Prep Fanfic: Aliksandria nó Cereus

“I am Aliksandria nó Cereus, Dowayne of Cereus House.”  I repeated this to myself again.

I looked around the hall at the members of the City Judiciary. The magistrate, the leaders of the trade guilds, and representatives of the nobility. I had been Dowayne for five years, and I still felt I was play acting at leadership. I could list the reasons I had been chosen to this role, the steps of the ladder I had climbed to reach this seat and, yet, I felt an imposter still. I feared I would always feel this way.

My predecessor had warned me about this part of the job. He had told me that the Night Court’s seat on the Judiciary was always in jeopardy and that the guild leaders would look for any way to oust us. He had also told me that this had been the way of it for hundreds of years, and that they have never succeeded. But I don’t think he could have prepared me for this.

The guild leaders had spent the bulk of this session railing about how the Night Court held unfair advantage by holding both the seat in the Judiciary and our seat on the Council of Religious Orders. In truth, it was a tired argument that I had heard since I was Dowayne’s Second, and had been old even then. They then shifted their argument to one of undue influence, again an oft used argument due to our history of giving counsel to members of the nobility, including house royal. This argument was, however, made more poignant due to the Dauphin’s current tryst with Odilia.

“We, the leaders of the trade guilds, put forth that while one or the other advantage might be overlooked, the occurrence of both cannot,” stated the leader of the silversmiths guild, a Monsieur Jacques Halceaux. “The trade guilds put forth that the Night Court must cease to give counsel and succor to the Scions of House Courcel, specifically and most urgently, ending the affair of the Dauphin and the adept of Dahlia House.”

The magistrate weighted the words carefully before turning to me:  “How does the representative from the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers respond?”

I took a deep breath.

I am Aliksandria nó Cereus, Dowayne of Cereus House,” I reminded myself.

“The Night Court is not in the practice of refusing to conduct business with members of noble houses so long as guild law is enforced and heresy does not occur. Furthermore, while I am a representative of the Night Court in this Judiciary, I am not its de facto leader and cannot dictate to other Dowaynes. As to the relationship between Odilia nó Dahlia and the Dauphin Gustav de la Courcel, it is not within the Night Court’s purview to sanction or forbid this union, as her marque has been made and he has reached his majority.”

This appeared to be the response Monseiur Halceaux had hoped for, as a triumphant smile flashed across his face. “If that is the Night Court’s response, than we put forth that its seat on the Judiciary is forfeit.”

The Magistrate raised his hand, “The leader of the silversmith’s guild is reminded that such an action would require a discretionary period and a vote by two thirds of the members of this body.” He then turned to me, “My Lady Dowayne, I recommend you bring this issue to your fellow Dowaynes and discuss amongst your guild how you wish to proceed. We await your final word on the matter when we reconvene after the Longest Night.”

The Longest Night.

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