The Shahrizai townhouse from the exterior resembled a standard noble’s townhouse in the Noble District of the City of Elua. Upon entering it was more like stepping into a palatial estate. The walls and floors were dark wood in the entry hall. A large, sweeping staircase dominated the back of the entry hall, and the only visible doors stood at the back of the hall. To the right, there was an open archway leading into a sitting room whose walls were covered in built-in bookcases. The furniture in the room was low, overstuffed leather chairs and dark tables. Plush, heavy, Akkadian carpets covered the floors, muffling echoes. Through an opposite archway was the formal dining room with a crystal chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling. Candelabras were spaced on the table, providing warm illumination for the entire room. Tapestries hung on the walls, and a long sideboard made of the darkest wood held crystal wine glasses at the ready.
The butler for the townhome, Jacob, had scrambled when Niklos informed him that the Second of Dahlia House had been invited for dinner. Of course, everyone suddenly knew who she was, but there hadn’t been enough time to build an adequate file on her. No one had expected her sudden leap into the spotlight as she had, although those in the know had been aware of the King’s preferences. All Jacob knew was that she had been born in The City and had been indentured to Dahlia at a young age…and that everyone expected she was going to become a very important player in politics very quickly. Rumor even had it that the Duc de Chalasse was now interested in her, though to what end no one could agree.
Knowing Niklos’ preferences, the beverages were the first part of the menu planned. A Camaeline white was selected for the first course and would be paired alongside oysters from the Flatlands and chilled pheasant from Skaldia. The second course would be a Eisandine red from the north of the province with a rich cassoulet. For the entree course, Jacob had a special treat for both Niklos and Odilia, a rich red from the highland plateaus of Aragonia paired with a venison steak that he had sourced from one of the Shahrizai hunting lodges in L’Agnace. Dessert would be a simple cheese and fruit plate. Jacob had found a dusty bottle of Somerville brandy in a neglected nook in the wine cellar. There were, of course, plenty of other options in the townhouse’s wine cellar, but Jacob hoped that his selections would be met with approval.
Perfectly punctual, the Dahlia carriage pulled up in front of the townhouse exactly two minutes early. No few of the Shahrizai servants paused in their final tasks to peer out the window, eager to catch a glimpse of the courtesan.
They were a tiny bit disappointed. She seemed dressed plainly in a simple gown of sage green, her dark hair swept neatly up under a jewelled cap. True, the hair comb anchoring the net was decorated with dahlia flowers, surely worked out of pure gold and set with diamonds, and surely her topaz earrings were worth a month’s wages, but she seemed to be just a woman. All this fuss over one woman? But there was something about the way she carried herself, something they had seen in some of their master’s other guests, a kind of self-assured power that made her quiet composure all the more beautiful. And there were hidden gold threads in her green skirts that made them shimmer in the last afternoon light, something easy to overlook. They had heard that plenty of people had underestimated her. They knew their master was clever enough not to.
The butler opened the door promptly as she ascended the outer steps, “Madame Dahlia, welcome.”
Niklos had been pacing. There was a small nook above the main entry with a window, affording a perfect view of the street and anyone approaching, and he had been there for a good quarter hour in tense anticipation. Not that he expected anything less than punctuality from any house of the Night Court, but still. It was easy to pick out the Dahlia carriage as it came down the street, and Niklos waited just long enough to be certain it was the one that carried his guest before making his way to the head of the stairs. He was standing there as Jacob opened the door and greeted The Dahlia, and he smiled faintly as she entered the foyer. He had visited a number of townhouses of the peers, and he knew the Shahrizai house just…struck people differently.
Odilia turned slowly, taking a moment to admire the entryway of the Shahrizai townhouse. All of the noble townhouses in this district looked similar enough on the outside, but it was the way each family had decorated the inside that revealed who they were. She had visited Rosanna’s family townhouse a few times, and she guessed that the layout of the rooms would be similar, but the Baphinol house was all lighter woods and forest tapestries and soft upholsteries. The Shahrizai house was nothing like that with its thick carpets and dark woods and rich tones. She rather approved.
Niklos made his way down the stairs, the thick carpeted runner muffling his footsteps, and he moved toward Odilia, a warm smile across his face. Clearing his throat, he greeted her—“Lady Odilia, how wonderful it is to have you in my family’s home!”—as he stepped toward her to offer her the kiss of greeting.
She accepted his kiss with the composure House Dahlia had trained her in since she was a child, saying, “Comte Shahrizai, you honored me with your invitation. It is my pleasure to be hosted here.”
She did not linger overlong with the kiss, stepping back again so she could observe him and the first moves he was making on this chessboard between them. Her head tilted slightly, her earrings swinging above her bare neck—the last time they had seen each other in person, he had commented on her necklace, and it certainly had been a statement piece. She hadn’t worn any necklace this evening, an obvious bait to see if he would comment. But she kept to her Night Court manners, saying, “Your invitation assured me that the dinner prepared by your cook would be beyond compare.”
He smiled warmly, considering. The necklace she’d received from the Duc de Chalasse, at least as the rumors would have it, was not present tonight. It was…less of a distraction that way. Her earrings were intriguing, dangling just enough to be a momentary distraction. He only wore his family signet as his jewelry, no need to be overly ostentatious, and he was attired in the simple black and gold of House Shahrizai, the Keys upon his doublet in a small repeating pattern. He gestured towards the sitting room. “Please, I had thought we might have drinks and some light appetizers first before dinner. I’ve always found that business is better discussed when one has had time to digest things. I have been assured by the Dowayne of Cereus that our chef here lays the best table anywhere in The City, and Aliksandria has had the temerity to attempt to steal the poor woman away from us more than once. Fortunately for us, she has not yet succeeded.”
He stepped toward the sitting room door, his boots barely whispering across the hardwood. Noting a servant already inside and waiting, he nodded to Jacob, a subtle sign that the chef could make the final preparations. There was an intricate dance to the schedule of a dinner, whether for business or for pleasure, and the staff at the townhouse were masters at ensuring the precision of the movements. “I am curious, my Lady Odilia, as to whom your jeweler is. Your earrings are stunning, and the particular shade of those topaz is perfect. I may have to see about some new acquisitions.”
And so the dance had begun.
“All of the City knows I was not born to the Court of Night Blooming Flowers,” she said lightly, following his courteous escort into the sitting room and taking her seat on one of the low leather chairs. The sweep of her skirts revealed the metallic thread woven into the fabric, gleaming in the lantern light. “Dahlia House has given me the education and opportunities to rise from my humble beginnings, but as I’m sure you remember the gossip of the Judiciary meeting and the implications therein, I have not forgotten my roots. My brother, Alesander, is inheriting my father’s place running La Gemme Charmant, and I make sure to give my family as much business as I can. It’s not far from your townhouse, my lord, and it would be an easy journey to commission a piece. I would be happy to write you an introduction to him, if you like?”
Two silent footmen entered the room, one holding a tray of delicacies. Deviled quail eggs and other canapés provided for a light selection of appetizers. One of the servants made his way directly to Odilia, offering her a small plate and the tray of delicacies. The other footman handed a glass that had been pre-poured to Niklos before exchanging places with his counterpart to ask Odilia in a low voice what she would be interested in as an aperitif.
Niklos took a couple of the canapés, Caerdicci mountain ham with a soft white cheese and balsamic vinegar, and placed his plate on the table next to him, sipping his drink. He nodded slowly as she spoke, his face darkening briefly at her reminder of the gossip from the beginning of the year. “Absolutely absurd, that whole mess with the Judiciary. What a ludicrous waste of time. Many of my elder cousins were wary, but all of them certainly agreed that it was not a matter for the Judiciary. I fear the silversmith is going to find he will be having more difficulties. We have ties to Aragonia, you know, and they have some of the best silver in the world.” His face cleared, his eyes lightening like the ocean after the passing of a storm. “I would be most grateful for an introduction to your brother and your family. If they are turning out such exquisite pieces, I am certain that I know a few folk who would be most interested in patronizing their shop.” He took another sip of his drink, nibbling at one of the appetizers, his eyes taking her in with a shrewd gaze.
No one could say that her smile at the thunderous look on his face was an innocent one, but neither was it the calculating curl of her lip that the gossips loved to exaggerate. But it was clear that she was pleased he was still so stirred by the events of last year and the implications they had carried. She accepted a glass of sparkling prosecco from La Serenissima and took a sip, letting the sharpness of the bubbles sear through her mouth before she swallowed.
Accepting a Caerdicci ham and cheese canapé, she said lightly, “I’m sure my brother would be honored by your patronage. The embargo on Aragonian silver made it difficult to practice his craft in many ways. I was happy to commission my pieces to ensure he could do what he loved.”
It was a matter of course that all the gossips knew who was behind the silver embargo. The Duc de Chalasse was a powerful man, a close friend to the previous King and Queen, and he certainly enjoyed exerting his influence. But there were other, more subtle ways to ensure that Halceaux understood how deeply displeased many still were with him. She knew the Shahrizai at the very least had the means to continue to punish him from the shadows.
“But this is a discussion of events long settled,” she said generously. “I’m sure you did not invite me here to reopen those wounds that have already healed. How have you spent your time since the Longest Night, my lord?”
Niklos had the good grace to look slightly abashed at Odilia’s gentle comment about reopening old wounds and he grinned. “You’re right, I certainly didn’t mean to cause too much distress. As to what I’ve been doing since the Longest Night…you could say I’ve been campaigning. Certain people,” he glanced at her meaningfully, “have been causing quite a stir among the older members of my family. So I’ve spent much of the year so far in Kusheth, having chats with some of the more senior ranking members of the family to smooth things over. I think I’ve won enough influence…” Niklos trailed off as Jacob stepped into the doorway and cleared his throat. He glanced at Jacob and received a subtle nod in response at which point he turned his attention fully back to Odilia. “I believe, my lady, that we are being summoned to the table.” He stood and offered her his hand. “If you are ready?”
“Ah, yes, the famed Shahrizai table.” She smiled at him, accepting his hand to lift her to her feet. Her glass of sparkling wine held carelessly in her other hand, she let him escort her into the dining room.
Her dark eyes glanced at him from under her lashes, taking more of the measure of him as she glided beside him. So, he had been speaking to his family about the affairs of the city and about her. Something about her had rattled the older Shahrizai generations, and he had clearly told her that he had been defending her. Which opened up the potential for him to call a debt, depending on how far he had gone to take her side with his family. Naturally, he had been interrupted just in time before he had revealed anything too important, leaving her this time now to do exactly as she was doing—wondering and worrying.
She wondered what piece he would be on her chessboard. Well, she supposed that the rest of this night would determine that. Odilia refused to show him any uncertainty, she knew what his family were well capable of. But certainly he knew that the things he revealed to her tonight would affect some of her next decisions, though perhaps not in the way he expected.
The butler himself pulled out the chair for her, and she only released the Comte’s hand to sweep her skirts aside as she sat. Setting her prosecco glass down, she said lightly, “Your family home is in the northern regions of Kusheth, if I remember right. I haven’t had any opportunities to travel there myself, but I have heard the landscape is a study of extremes, from the harsh coasts to the lush greenery of the interior lands. I can only imagine what it is like to be surrounded by such dramatic beauty.”
He settled into the seat to Odilia’s right, having arranged it with Jacob to place the Dahlia Second at the head of the table. Jacob had been scandalized with the seating arrangement at first, until Niklos had explained exactly what he had been witness to at the Longest Night at the turn of the year, and the things he had continued to learn about her. All adepts of the Night Court were to be treated with respect. This one needed something more. She had powerful ambitions, and with the right movements, could enhance or occlude the right groups. Niklos was determined to be on the right side of this movement. The timing did amuse him, Jacob had managed things perfectly. The man deserved a night at whatever House he desired. He didn’t think the man would choose Mandrake like any of the bloodline would, but the family hired for talent, not proclivities.
“The Shahrizai hold, at last count, approximately sixty percent of all Kusheth, my lady. De Morbhan holds the sovereignty because they hold the Pont d’Ouest and the entrance to the Straits. The property I inherited from my Uncle lies north and east of the Lusande River, almost to the border with Namarre. But I have visited cousins’ homes all throughout the province, and it is an incredible study. High cliffs to the south and east of the Pont d’Ouest almost to Azzalle and rich farmlands along the eastern part of the province. While I do not have any properties with vineyards myself, a number of my neighbors do. And they produce some very fine light reds and some lovely whites. I don’t believe we have any of those selected for this evening’s dinner…”
His eyes shifted to Jacob, who shook his head briefly, “I see we don’t. I shall have to make certain you have a chance to sample them at some point in the future.” He leaned back minutely as footmen brought in their appetizers, Jacob moving to pour them fresh glasses of the Camaeline white. Crisp, cold, and dry to pair with the plated pheasant and oysters. “But what you say is true, my parents’ holdings are a small estate almost upon the Straits at the very north of the province. On a clear day, my father would claim you could see the isle of the Master of the Straits, but I was never able to see quite that far. It was a wild place for a boy to grow up, and I do miss it. That is probably why I try to return home for at least part of the year.” He smiled softly, almost as if briefly lost in a memory, and took a sip of his wine.
“That is something I do not understand,” she said easily, nodding her thanks to the servants. “Not because I do not wish to, but because I cannot. My family is here in the City and have been for all the generations I know. My home in Mont Nuit is only across the city from where I was born and raised, half of an hour’s ride by carriage.”
Her eyes dipped to her glass of wine, swirling the white wine in the cup and tracking the legs of the liquid as they ran down the inner curve of the cup. “One of the privileges of my position within the Night Court, not only as a Second but really as an Adept and Servant of Naamah, is the chance to let passion show me a world I would never have known had Dahlia House not chosen me. I have seen great houses and ridden along beautiful estates and strolled exquisite gardens that I couldn’t have ever dreamed of seeing as a jeweler’s daughter. What I have tasted of the world of the nobility is one of beauty. I’m honored by what I see of it.”
It wasn’t just a world of beauty but of schemes and serpents and poisoned silvered words. She wasn’t naïve. But until she could discover what the Comte Shahrizai wanted from her and how she could use him in return, she couldn’t show her hand too soon.
He nodded slowly, chewing on a bite of the pheasant as she spoke. He cleared his palate with a sip of the wine. “I can only imagine what it would have been like growing up here. My parents are not highly placed members of the family. There are no Sacriphants or Marmions in my direct lineage. We didn’t travel much when I was a child. My first visits to The City itself were about a decade ago, because the family decided that all of the younger generation should see what it was like. My title comes from the fact that a distant uncle died without direct heirs and decided to elevate a relative whom none would expect. My guess is that you have spent far more time in the world of the nobility than I have as one born to it.” He swallowed his last oyster and took another slow sip of wine.
“And now, things are moving faster than some of the family are willing or able to keep pace with, and they are expecting great things from the younger generation.” He chuckled. “So we must learn to navigate the waters or drown trying.”
“Oh?” She met his laughter with a smile of her own, head tilting as her brow lifted. “Then how fortunate it is that there is a young Comte willing to show them the benefits of their investments, I’m sure.”
Niklos slid his plate to the side. He had finished all he cared for, considering the amount of food he was certain Jacob had planned. He had amused Odilia, and that was good in his mind. “I’m certain more of them feel comfortable cutting me loose if what they think is a gamble doesn’t pay off. Unfortunately for them, I’m usually very good at reading the odds.” One of the footmen stepped forward, moving to collect the plate Niklos had pushed aside before clearing the Dahlia’s empty plate as well.
“But we need to plan for things. The King is young, and he will benefit from a steady hand’s guidance. Too many of the peers I have met are concerned with their own fortunes and don’t care about the country as a whole, and they especially don’t seem to care about the common people. So, we are coming to a concerning point.” And there it was, the crux of the matter. Did Odilia feel she was the right person to be that guide? Of all the houses of the Night Court, Dahlia might just be his favorite. The power play was intoxicating.
For a moment, just a moment, she could see a flash of the future her ambition wanted for her: a table of powerful leaders, herself at the head, a place of power among those who would have otherwise have looked down on her, a place that she had earned, and power that no one could take away from her. The Comte Shahrizai had placed her at the head of his own table, in his own home. Surely it was bait, but that didn’t change how it felt quickening in her veins.
Her dark eyes met his, level and unblinking. “And what do you count as a concerning point, my lord?”
He wanted her here, he had invited her into his home. There had to be a reason. There had to be something he wanted.
Niklos considered her, he could see the fault lines now that he was looking for them, and now that they’d had some time together. Dahlias were Pride embodied, and Odilia was a glowing example of everything that House had to offer. A faint smirk crossed his lips, and he reached for his wine glass, pleased to see that the white had been replaced by a red. Sipping at it, he almost nodded to himself, knowing the next course was coming. As he considered, a thought came unbidden to his mind. “What is it that you most want from your life and your service, my lady? None of this frippery about experiencing great Houses. What do you really desire?”
“Surely what all of us desire,” she said, not rising to the bait so easily. “To do our part for our country and see Terre d’Ange move forward into a strong, better future.”
She smiled at him, her eyes glinting over her wine glass as she inquired. “Isn’t that what you desire, too?”
He smiled slowly, languidly, almost like a hunting cat eyeing its prey. His gaze wasn’t fully focused on Odilia, however. While she was a target, she was too clever to be the target of his play here. Not even the King was a target. His eyes snapped back to hers, refocusing as he took another sip of the wine. “Of course, I want Terre d’Ange to remain strong.” His words were slow, soft, and direct, “I believe what concerns me is that there might be those among the peerage who either cannot or will not see that there must come a time where we need to shift our focus. Too many d’Angelines, it seems, wish to live in the past. And when that happens, we stagnate, or we fail.” He shrugged then, and took a spoonful of the cassoulet, letting her think over his words. He added with a sharp smile, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I didn’t,” she agreed, taking a spoonful of the cassoulet herself, tasting the nicely balanced flavors and following them with a sip of her red wine, “You wouldn’t want this little game to be over so quickly, would you? Where is the fun if I just give you what you want?”
She leaned back in her chair and looked at him, the candlelight glinting on her earrings and in her eyes, “What do you think I desire, my lord?”
He took a deep breath and another spoonful of the cassoulet, surprised at his own candor already. He usually had more control than that, and it bothered him that what he’d said had been said. Still, it was out in the world now, and that meant she could use it against him if she was of a mind to. “What do I think you desire? I think, like most people, you desire power. We all have a desire for power in some form or another. I also think you want control. I don’t know how far your ambition will drive you, but you are on the younger side to be a Second of the Night Court, and that speaks to ambition and drive. And I admire those traits. But I also think that, whatever you desire, you will need a number of allies.”
She set her wine glass down slowly. “Are you offering to be my ally, Comte Shahrizai?”
First a Chalasse and then a Shahrizai? The rest of the nobles would have to pay attention to her then. She had already been working on proving herself an equal to the schemes of court, this would advance her game quite a few steps if she could add Niklos Shahrizai to her board. Where would she put him? King-side knight? Perhaps a rook? Which suited his style more?
He watched her steadily, considering that perhaps he had overplayed his hand. That always was a problem when he was well into a good game. Sometimes he pushed hard and gambled more than he should. But he hadn’t lost yet. The outcomes still looked good. “I have faith in the Duc de Chalasse’s judgment. That old lion wouldn’t hold nearly as much clout as he still does without being a canny politician. He knows what he’s about. But we also know of attempted coups in this family, and without knowing your plans…and your desires…I could not promise much support, if any. So again, my Lady Odilia, what exactly is it that you truly desire?”
He continued with his silent scrutiny as the footmen moved about them in their silent dance. Their soup bowls were cleared, and Jacob moved to pour the Aragonian red. The entrees came to the table as Jacob finished pouring for Niklos, having already poured for Odilia, and Niklos traced the stem of his wine glass idly with a finger, his eyes never leaving their examination of Odilia. He tried to shift into that other sight, Kushiel’s Blessing as his family referred to it, to gather some measure of insight into Odilia’s mind. None in the family as far as he knew, could read people as easily as Melisande had been purported to be able to do, but even she had been confounded by a Servant of Naamah. Still, she was both cautionary tale and possible exemplar to all members of the family. Winning the game of thrones could be your making, or it could be your ruin…and the difference was a knife’s edge.
She kept her head high. He would not intimidate her. She was a Dahlia, the Second of that proud House, and she lived their words: upright and unbending.
“I want to be remembered,” she said finally, no trace of coyness in her eyes or voice, just flat truth. “I want my name to be remembered. I want to do or become something that shapes Terre d’Ange for generations to come. I don’t want to fade into obscurity and be forgotten when I die.”
She thought she had had a chance by being the King’s lover. He had whispered things to her in the night about what he wanted, about the life he wanted to give her, that had made her hope that her legacy would be woven into the fabric of the Courcel tapestry. But with how unsure everything was now, with the royal court pushing him to choose a bride, and the fragile bond slowly splintering between the two of them, she wasn’t sure anymore. She wasn’t sure of very much. So, she needed to adapt her strategy and play a new game, one that would see her powerful enough that her name would be carved into the stone of this new level of D’Angeline history.
He took a slow bite of venison as she spoke. He admired her ambition, and he had felt it was something along those lines that was driving her, but it was good to hear her words. And she was unembarrassed by it. She certainly fit Dahlia’s canon. He took a sip of wine, continuing to think on the matter, letting the silence drag out. It was a difficult question, and it required thought.
“Love as thou wilt, no?” He smiled, almost catching himself off guard with the question, but he thought it was the position he needed to take. “While Blessed Elua cared not for crowns or thrones, we are but mere mortals. And to be remembered, that might be greater than even a throne. I would caution you that taking the wrong steps on this path would have you remembered in the worst way possible.”
His smile turned vulpine. “For while I may not have a Sacriphant or Marmion close in my family line, Melisande is but a few steps away from my mother’s side of the family. Her name is so remembered…so reviled…that none will ever be named in her tribute. Certainly a memorable name, but hardly the shadow you wish to cast on history, I think. So perhaps you remind the King that marriage is for politics and is for the continuation of the line. But love? Love belongs to the one who is in your heart. And that is what Elua would preach, I think.”
“Well, at the very least I can trust that were I to slide into those shadows,” she said, steel underneath the velvet of her voice as she said, “You would know. And I would hope you would advise me accordingly.”
He took another swallow of wine, continuing to eat the entree before him, his eyes on her. Jacob circled politely, topping off their wines as they drank, but Niklos wouldn’t rise to the challenge in her words. He was still of a mind to support her; as he had said, she needed allies. And he thought he had the necessary information to convince the cousins, especially the elders, that it would be wise to throw their lot in behind a Night Court Adept. Despite her dangerous ambition, she was—and this would catch most of the eldest—D’Angeline. Sometimes that was all that mattered.
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