The liveried footman stepped up to open the door of the carriage the moment it pulled to a stop within the courtyard of the townhouse. No one would think it askance that the carriage bearing the green-black-bronze livery of the Rocaille family was coming to the Rocaille townhouse off the Rue Courcel, no one would pay it any mind. The gate closed firmly behind it, and the carriage drawn further into the courtyard to keep it from view, there were no prying eyes that could see the footman offer a hand to the woman that stepped down out of the carriage.
“My lord is waiting for you in his library,” the footman said quietly. “The butler will show you the way.”
“Thank you.”
She swept toward the house with a swish of her winter cloak, and the footman rubbed his hands together. He had never touched an adept of the Night Court before.
Inside, she was greeted by the butler, who took her cloak and showed her up the stairs to the library. It was a grand space, paneled in beautifully oiled wood and occasionally showing a mural of the Siovalese mountains and forests which surely helped to remind the visiting family members of their home. The shelves set along the walls stretched from floor to ceiling and were filled with all kinds of books and scrolls in several languages. A fire had been laid in the fireplace adjacent to the window and set before the window to get the most natural light was a sturdy wooden desk strewn with papers. Maël de Rocaille did not so much sit at his desk, rather he lounged against it, one hand pressed mindlessly against the stack of books to keep him balanced as he propped himself up by hand and hip alone.
He looked up as the door opened, immediately straightening and setting the book down as he greeted his guest. “Odilia. Welcome.”
“Thank you for making the arrangements,” she said, crossing to the fire to warm her hands. The longest night itself may have passed, but winter still held a firm grip on the city and her gloves could only do so much in the carriage.
Maël glanced at the butler hovering in the doorway, giving him a nod. The servant bowed and withdrew to see to the other arrangements his lord had requested, leaving the two of them alone for the moment, which gave Maël a chance to really study this woman. Even with how he had helped Gustav meet with her, sneaking him out of the Palace and delivering him to the doorstep of Dahlia House, he himself had not had a chance to really look at her. She was taller than the average D’Angeline woman, and her excellent posture—likely a product of those House words, upright and unbending—gave her an extra inch surely. Her dark hair was braided back from her face, a practical choice, and twisted into a no-nonsense knot at the nape of her neck to keep it out of her way. He wondered what her pedigree was, whether her family had any noble blood or traced their lineage back to any particular province. He knew very little about her, only that she was the Second of Dahlia House, and that his friend was losing his heart to her.
“Please,” he said, gesturing to the plush, green armchair set by the fire, “sit, and be comfortable. The butler will bring us some light refreshments in a moment. Do you enjoy coffee? I work hard to source the coffee in my house from Jebe-Barkal itself. The strength of it is invigorating and I dare say we will need the strength.”
“A tisane will be fine for me,” she said, sweeping her skirts aside to lower herself to the chair.
“I do have proper tea from Ch’in,” Maël said, taking his seat in the other armchair set at the fireplace. “I have a blend I think you will like, it is smoke-dried which gives it a unique kind of smoked flavour. It actually comes from a kind of camellia plant, did you know that? Beyond just flowers, the camellia family has long been cultivated for their tea leaves and medicine. I have heard some people in Ch’in and beyond use camellias for hair care as well.”
She watched him with her dark eyes and he thought he saw a hint of amusement in them. He gave a little shrug. “I like to learn things. It comes with the family name.”
“Naturally,” she agreed, her hands folded in her lap. “I see how the two of you have become such good friends.”
“Well, someone had to help him study,” Maël said easily. “It certainly wasn’t going to be L’Envers.”
He won a smile from her at that and, even if it was small and close-lipped, he could see the silent laughter in her eyes.
“Nevertheless,” she continued, “I am glad he has a friend like you. Especially now.”
The butler let himself back into the room, bringing with him a tray of fragrant coffee served in the Jebe-Barkal style—in an earthenware jug, with small cups, and with a small plate of roasted peanuts along with the sugar bowl. Maël murmured to him the request for the smoked tea for his guest and the butler bowed. A second servant accompanying the butler had also brought a wheeled cart upon which was set a selection of fresh fruit, some savoury pastries, and an arrangement of cured meats with cheeses.
Maël gestured for Odilia to choose as she pleased from the refreshments and, as she did so, she said, “I also wanted to thank you, my lord, for bringing me the news as quickly as you did. I would have heard it anyway, but I am grateful I heard it from you. Thank you.”
He nodded. “You are welcome. I know how important he says you are to him and I knew this would change a great deal of things. You deserved to know.”
He accepted the small cup of steaming coffee the butler had poured for him and the servants withdrew to make the arrangements for her tea. Alone again, she nibbled on the slice of sausage she had taken, identifying it as herbed venison, before she said, “I asked to meet with you because I think we could be good allies for each other. I said it then and it is still true that he will need our help. A year is a very short time to prepare to become King. However much we can assist him, I think we should.”
Maël leaned back slightly in his seat, cradling his coffee cup in his hands as he got comfortable, asking, “What did you have in mind?”
“Do you play chess, my lord?”
It was his turn to smile as his brows lifted. “I have heard you do.”
“You heard right,” she said. “It is a clear way to help me picture how to strategize. Do you have a board here?”
“It’s not my choice of game,” Maël admitted, “but the family does keep a few in our collection. Do you have a preference of material? Ivory? Metal? Wood?”
“Not for this,” she said wryly. “Any set will do.”
He rose and crossed to the other side of the library, considering a corner cabinet full of various collectible items, before withdrawing a fine chess set. The wooden one was lighter to carry, so he left the metal and marble ones there. She had moved a side table from the wall to place it between their armchairs so that by the time he returned, there was a place for him to set it down. The board was made of cherry and maple woods, the pieces carved from ivory and mahogany, red and gold setting the scene for the Game of Kings.
He opened the box where the pieces were kept and asked, “So, how do you set the board?”
“For this?” She selected the ivory king from the box, setting it down at its proper place, “The king is the king. As for the rest, we can use the pieces to visualize who is close to him. What piece are you?”
Maël considered this before selecting an ivory knight and placing it down. He asked, “And you?”
She placed a bishop down and gestured to the rest of the pieces, saying, “Now, we fill in the rest of the board, as best we can. Who can help him? Who can we trust?”
“What do you think he needs?”
She pressed her lips together, frowning slightly, before turning it on him. “What do you think he needs? You know him on a more personal level than I do.”
“He’s a good student,” Maël said, setting the box of pieces down and picking up his coffee again. “He was always ready to learn new things, try anything, which delighted L’Envers. He works well under pressure, has excellent composure and poise when it comes to public speaking. But L’Envers was always the leader of our merry band, getting Gustav into trouble more often than not. But he was…comfortable. When he knew how his world worked, he didn’t seem interested in changing things.”
“And now things have changed around him,” Odilia said quietly. The butler returned with her tea tray and poured her a cup before silently withdrawing, closing the door softly behind him.
“Fact is,” Maël said, watching her stir a scant spoonful of sugar into the steaming black tea, “I think we could be balancing forces for him. Like the Ch’in concept of yin-yang, almost.”
She shook her head slightly as she swallowed her first sip of the deliciously strong tea. “I’m not familiar.”
“Well,” Maël said as she sank back down into the armchair, “I’m with him at Court and I’m one of his companions in the Palace, so while we’re there, he’s focused on his duties and the responsibilities that they’re putting on him. He may need to be reminded that he can enjoy life. My priorities for him are strengthening his confidence and making sure he knows how to balance his responsibility with his own wants. He cannot be a king cut off from his heart. But when he’s with you…”
She picked up the thought effortlessly. “He is more focused on his desires, putting the royal duties aside. So, while you are encouraging him to be honest with himself at the Palace and face Court with the self-assurance of knowing what it is he wants, I can balance him in his indulgences and show him how to ground his desires and wishes in what he can truly accomplish, helping him build a plan for his own success that he can achieve in his own terms.”
He leaned forward to nudge the knight and the bishop closer to the king’s sides. “If you and I keep a strong alliance, we can work together to guide him and prepare him. You’re right, a year isn’t a very long time. So we need to make our plan now.”
“Then let us consider who we do not trust,” she said, taking another sip of her tea. “Who do we not believe will be good guiding forces for him?”
A flicker of a shadow crossed Maël’s face and he admitted, “It may come from the personal history of my family, but I do not trust the Shahrizai. L’Envers, for all that he comes from the line that killed Edmee, I know him. He doesn’t have the drive to wreak destruction. Not now at least. Anyone can be forced if the odds are against them, but for now his friendship with Gustav is true. If wild. But the Shahrizai?”
He shook his head with a hard look in his eyes. “That family has caused too much pain and their name has been behind too many tragedies. I don’t care that he’s a cousin, Gustav doesn’t need to pay the price of their ambitions.”
Odilia considered this. Yes, this heir to the Rocaille family would have more reason than most to loathe the Shahrizai for what their great and terrible Melisandre did to twist David into her puppet, shaming that family and bringing pain to them. Yet, she had met the Shahrizai Count who had come to Dahlia House to play chess. An ambitious man, perhaps, but she had read him as a loyalist at heart. Whether to the Crown itself, no matter who wore it, or to the true line of succession remained to be seen.
So she only nodded. “Very well. Who do we trust? Who do you think could help him?”
“Sebastien, obviously,” Maël said with an idle shrug, the shadows clearing from his face once the topic of the Shahrizai was gone. “He’s already a friend and, for all his frivolities, he does care deeply about Gustav. The Cassiline, Manuel. Though I’m still not entirely sure about him, I know the Cassilines take their oaths seriously. Manuel will keep him safe, though that might at times put him opposed to our maneuverings, depending on how we push him.” Yet Maël was sure that Manuel similarly was seeking redemption for the Cassilines for the actions of David de Rocaille. He would even wager on it.
“Well that may pose a problem,” Odilia said, reaching for the teapot to refresh her empty cup, “because I have been contemplating a bold idea.”
His brows lifted and he risked a half-smirk as he observed, “You don’t seem like a woman who does anything by halves.”
“Hardly,” she matched his smile in return. “But in my conversations with him, Gustav has hinted that he is not quite comfortable with the level of deference and service he is being shown since he returned to take his place as Dauphin.”
“Facing a coronation next year, I can’t imagine that deference will abate,” Maël said. “If anything, it will only get worse.”
“I agree,” Odilia said, her hand lifting to make sure none of her dark hair had escaped her braid. “Which is why I plan on writing to Valerian House to make arrangements to have them invite Gustav and me to their Mara’s Eve fête.”
Taken aback, Maël blinked. “I don’t follow.”
“Gustav is uncomfortable with the power that he already has and how it reflects in the servitude and obeisance he is being shown,” she said, her fingertip absently tracing the gilded rim of the teacup as she traced her thought process aloud. “Where better, then, to take him to get him used to service and obedience than the House of the Night Court that specialises in submission? Among the other guests of the fête, we will be able to pass without notice and he will be able to see and experience the dynamics of power without the pressure and stakes of a royal court watching his every move.”
“A bold move indeed,” Maël mused, “and unorthodox. But not, I think, without its own merit. Unfortunately, I cannot help you with that. I…cannot say that my tastes run to Valerian House’s particular skills.”
“I am not worried,” Odilia said with a little smile. “I am the Second of Dahlia House, the Valerian Dowayne will take my letter and accept my request. She must. Who among the Thirteen would refuse a royal visit? Even if it must be a secret, she will accept it for the gift it is to have the future king attend her fête.”
“Then while you are tending to that,” Maël said, picking up another bishop from the collection of game pieces and turning it over in his fingers, “I will make a gambit of my own.”
He leaned to put the bishop down off to the side, a small distance away from the king piece. He said, “He will need a powerful ally among the other nobles. I may be the next in line in my family, but our influence is limited in scope.”
“You have someone in mind?”
Maël smiled, “Oh yes. Do you know the Duc de Chalasse?”