A Courtesy Call at the Gov's Palace (mod/open)

[Alexis Sapientia]

Timestamp: Fourth Cycle of Imperos, Summer, Era X in the Age of the Darkening

Where the prithing feth am I?

The Hospodar of Krytzillikinarnessus bit his lower lip as he sat under a bench along the Sherital Way, close to the Grand Central Plaza, and watched people go by. By Diana, that girl’s got such an attractive body, aided further by the fact that she…no, I think she used rolled cloth…they look…so…unnatural otherwise. He gazed at his clipped fingernails and scraped off a bit of dirt at the edges. Well, I’m almost there, anyway. Besides, I’m hungry, and I hope they’ve got rosyun ready. I feel I could devour more than the standard seven-platter course. Plus bagels and jam afterwards. Yumyum. Alexis stood up and calmly walked eastward towards the Lower District, once he’d rested and gotten his bearings.

I really don’t understand why Father sends me off here on my sixteenth birth-brightening, alone, and with no servants at all to tend to my needs! Flubberthuth and hogwash for a birth-brightening gift. Said something about making it a character-building thing, but then again, it’s nice to be from all those stuffy people at court. They’ve got nothing better to do anyways then preen themselves and tell each other how important they are. Hypocrites, all. It just kills me. He slung his rucksack again on his back, adjusting it so it wouldn’t fall off. And then he makes me wait three eras before letting me get out of that poor excuse of a hovel! He shook his head. Now the fifty thousand crowns he gave me from the Privy Purse account at the local bank is almost gone, and it’s when I’m almost out of money that he sends me a letter saying, yes, I can go out and meet the local lord now. Fething bureaucrats. I’ll bet Uncle Maximillian had something to do with it…again. Maybe he asked the courier to…literally…take his time. An exasperated sigh escaped from his lips.

Stupid boy, if you had half a brain, you would have gone out anytime you wanted…since no one would know, right? Ah, but foolish me always thought those footmen were just there, hiding in the corners, spying, silent in the shadows…like they always are. No peace even in my own room at Habichtsbergen Palace! Goodness knows that’s how all this trouble started! A half-devious evil smile appeared on his lips.

Eh, it’s not my fault that the girl was playing games with me…glinting with those eyes and seemingly asking me to chase after her. I don’t understand why Mother got so angry about her and me seated on my bed. We were just talking, after all. He chuckled. Heh, you’d think the girl was there to assassinate me!

Nodding to himself, he stepped over a small tree branch along the path. Ah, and all this time I thought ‘regicide’ meant killing me! Of course, that would be such a horrid thought.

After a time of mulling to himself, Master Alexis stood alongside a large gate which enclosed a garden.

The Governor's Palace, stood in its own parklands at the end of the tree lined boulevard of San George, at the heart of the city of Taralon. Originally the city had been built in a series of concentric circles, intersected by roads and canals. At the centre of the city, in the middle of the Lower District, on an island in the Black River, was the mansion of the King which, after the province had been brought into the Empire, had become the the Governor's Palace and the heart of Imperial Rule in the Province. A bridge constructed entirely of the iron mined from Taralon's Vorgon Mines stretched from the opposite bank of the river closest to the main part of the city, an elaborately crafted though small pathway to the heart of Taralon. It had been wrought by some of the best dwarven artisans in the city, and it was evident from its sturdy engineering and artistic architecture that much love and reverence had gone into its creation.

The parkland was surrounded by high wrought-iron railings, tipped with razor sharp spikes, and the perimeter was patrolled heavily. The main gates were an intricate work of art, depicting the battle between a Dragon and a Phoenix, and were also heavily guarded by a group of ten Imperial Guards.

Beyond the gate, down a long driveway, one could see the Palace itself, a elegant building of golden Sherian stone, three stories high and fronted by twisting columns and a short stone staircase to the pair of oak doors which served as the palace's formal entrance.

The palace's garden in the summer, was truly a sight to behold, with richly fragrant roses and magnificent tulips, daffodils and lilies growing on either side of the Palace's driveway, seeming to salute visitors and newcomers with their jaunty, brightly-coloured heads. The lawn was perfectly mowed in order that its verdant splendour could truly enjoyed without unruly weeds poking their heads through. At one corner of the garden was a charming little gazebo with a golden dome, perfect for summer rendezvous.

So, it seems the lady of the palace has been busy. Goodness knows a man can’t tend a garden to any singular success. Even old Boney, the gardener at Habichtsbergen, needs the Chief Housekeeper’s advice on where to place the petunias. Colonnaded entrance, nice beige stone. How can one arrive in state with the requisite entourage if the entire place is crowded, though? Shaking his head from side by side, he made his way to the main gate. Where on this confounded world is the en…oh. I believe it’s right…ah, here we are.

He approached the guard, giving a relaxed and familiar smile, produced his Imperial Visa from his rucksack, and spoke in his usual cheery but cultured tone.

“Salvaluti,” he said, placing his right hand on the left portion of his chest, and taking a bow, as was the manner of those at home. “I’m Alexis, Hospodar and Metropolitan of Krytzillikinarnessus, and bear urgent dispatches from my father, Leopold the First. I’m here on important business to see the lord of this palace, the Governor of the Sherian.”

Why couldn’t Father have sprung more money for a horse, at least? I feel foolish here arriving on foot!

[Milo L'Evienne]

Two guards concealed somewhat by flowering shrubbery watched the young man approach with a mix of curiosity and boredom. John and Blair were typically kept busy in the palace, but due to a round of cards lost to the ‘lord’ of the manor, the two footmen found themselves on gate duty for the day. They were an odd pair, truth told. Blair, middle aged, balding and large around. But lacking enough height to make up the difference. John, little more than a boy with a shock of red hair, awkward and tall with a thin frame. Colorful livery was worn by both men, draped loose on John’s skinny physique and fit quite snugly on Blair’s.

It was young John that stepped forward first at Alexis’ greeting, a short sword at his hip but left there with little threat perceived. The same couldn’t be said for the puzzled frown on his freckled face when Alexi introduced himself. It wasn’t so unusual…that an unusual visitor requested a visit with the governor. It was only that this one said a mouthful that left him at a loss.

’Serale…” John paused and glanced questioningly at Blair with a raised brow. He had no idea what Salvaluti meant, nor Hospodar, nor the rest of it for that matter. But he said it in a way that suggested he was someone of import. Blair shrugged and though John wasn’t about to attempt the surname, he did the next best thing. ’…m’ lord,’ he said as he took the visa through the bars of the locked gates and had a look. It didn’t explain much. ’Urgent dispatches, ye say?’ Another glance at Blair yielded little more than the last one. Lord of the palace? The Governor? ’My lord, actually, the Governor is…Well, ye see…’

The stammering might’ve lasted the bulk of a candlemark if not for a disturbance not far from the scene. A large black mare charged across the lawn, tossing her head in time to large feathered feet that pounded out an animated gait. She near demolished a carefully tended copse of rose bushes, if not for the apparently skilled hand of her rider. Milo sat atop the noble looking beast, appearing in complete control of his mount. One might lay bets that he wasn’t, if they’d known the pair well. He wore tan riding breeches and a white, sleeveless tunic, brown leather boots and gloves. An equally brown, battered brimmed hat sat atop his head and beneath the shadow of the brim, a tilted grin could be seen as he pulled Lu to a stop to observe the scene at the gates. He was a fairly young man, green eyes and brown hair brushing his shoulders, and recognizable to all in the palace, if not the young visitor.

With a firm tug on the reins, he turned Lu from her intended path to approach the gates and slid to the ground before pulling her to a stop. ”Serale gentlemen. A problem?” he asked, drawing the attention of the two guards. Almost in unison, the two turned and bowed rather dramatically. ’My lord.’ By the gods, he wished they’d stop doing that. It had taken time, but the staff had grown accustomed to his familiarity, his tendency to dislike all things noble. The new title of Earl hadn’t quite settled yet with the Governor’s husband. Not with any degree of comfort. But when there were others of a noble ilk around, he supposed it was a bane he’d have to suffer.

Not surprisingly, it was John that spoke first as he handed over the visa. ’Lord L’Evienne. This man claims to have urgent business…A dispatch for the…Lord Governor. I was about to explain that…’ Milo tilted a quizzical brown upwards, but silenced the man with a slight grin and a wave of his gloved hand. Those who knew him well, would suspect the source. Of the name, he was as puzzled as the guards, but showed little of it as he nodded in apparent understanding. Of the temporary mischief he intended, it could be said that it was only a logical safeguard in case the young man’s motives were not as he claimed. He’d not have some ill-intentioned knave gaining access to his love, who likely was occupying the parlor in preparation for rosyun by now. Besides, it was the rare citizen of the Empire that didn’t know the Governor was a woman. Still, the kid looked harmless enough. He’d just make sure of it before seeking out Nellie with her intended visitor. As for the nobility implied, a name he’d never heard prior, he’d take John’s approach to the situation. ’Good work John. I’ll take care of it.’ Despite the dubious glances cast between the two footmen, they offered no argument as Blair was handed Lu’s reins with a request to see her to the stables. He, at least, departed, leading a mare made no less defiant by a good run.

Pulling his gloves and hat off, Milo approached the gate and after directing John to open it, extended a firm hand to Alexis in greeting. ”Serale, lord Alexis.” He, like John, would not attempt the surname and handed the visa back. ”I understand you’ve come with urgent business. My name is Milo du’Galle L’Evienne. Perhaps you’d like to walk with me explain the nature of your business?” he asked with a characteristic, easy grin as he indicated that Alexis should accompany him on the short stroll to the palace. ”I apologize for my appearance. If not for a daily run, my mare becomes unruly and difficult to handle.” The distinction seemed less than substantial, judging by the ongoing battle between footman and mare on their way to the stables, where the latter seemed to be getting the better of the former.

[Alexis Sapientia]

Guards were guards wherever they may be on Telath. A hint of amusement could be seen in Alexis’ eyes as he studied their demeanor, people-watching being a favorite pastime of his. Why am I reminded of Old Tom and Jerry the Rat? Old Tom was long retired from honorable service and stood guard for the pension and to teach a good thing or two to the younger folk, but Jerry—good Ioannes, I don’t even know why Father bothered to keep such a strange fellow. He said something about Jerry being a compulsive gambler, but Jerr-O seemed to have learned his lesson after a stint at Debtor’s Prison. If the underbutler’s words were to be trusted, Jerry was the estate bookie. Perhaps that explains why he loved rattling on about numbers every time he’d hand Byron’s reins over to me for our early brightening walk. Good thing I never believed his rambling either, lest that burn a pretty hole in my own purse.

Alexis’ jovial musing was interrupted by the sound of approaching hoofbeats. On reflex, his eyes looked in the relevant direction, and settled on the arrival of this horserider.

Blimey, now here’s a right proper mount. Magnificent example of horseflesh, but I have to admit my affections still lie with Byron, at home. Perhaps I can secure a proper replacement here. I miss the trusty old fellow dearly. Alexis thought with a somewhat faraway glance as he recalled the many jaunts they’d had around the Habichtsbergen estate. That faraway glance ended when they opened the gate and ushered Alexis in.

“How do you do, My Lord?” Alexis asked with a curt smile and an offered hand. The smile grew wider when reference was made to the mare. “Please, sir, don’t apologize. I too find my own mount, Byron, in the same condition from time to time. It’s just a pity I haven’t ridden in quite a while.” He said with a somewhat sad look towards the horse, then adjusted the way his leather rucksack hung on his back with a proper nudge of his right shoulder, then smiled and nodded at the guards as he entered the palace grounds, walking alongside Milo.

“In truth, I have to commend your horsemanship. Truly. I mean…well…it’s just that I never really learned how to ride—well, not as good as, say, one of our cavalrymen, but I do know the basics of caring for the horse and such.” Alexis gave an embarrassed smile. “I’m afraid I’ve only been up to…well…harmless things, really, cantering around a circle, leading Byron to a stream, that sort of thing. Never really learned how to jump over fences, or spear a target while mounted. Mother was appalled that I was even considering such dangerous things, but Father seemed to have approved. A pity that Mum never lost sight of me nor Byron since I mentioned it.” Another harmless grin. “My equerry even said that the stablemaster had a stern telling-to from Mummy, and that they’d lose their livelihoods before they could even say ‘equestrian’, the moment she saw me and Byron prancing about like some hussar or somesuch.”

After shaking hands, he seemed puzzled and this puzzlement showed with eyebrows wrinkling in silent query. “Milo du’Galle L’Evienne? Sorry, but you wouldn’t happen to be the Governor, by any chance, sir? It’s the thing, see…Father told me to present this packet…” He stopped walking, removed the bag from his right shoulder, and rummaged through his brown leather rucksack. “Dang…I know it’s here somewhere…ah, here we are.” Alexis took out a thick parchment, which was folded twice horizontally and twice vertically at the edges, and with an enormous red-wax seal securing the package, the seal bearing an image of three towers, with another image of a double-headed eagle surmounting the towers.

“Well, Father told me to personally present this packet to him if I hadn’t heard word from
Habichtsbergen for a pattern. That time has come, and gone. Then there’s the other one that just arrived last cycle, here.”

Alexis took out another piece of folded parchment, somewhat dingier than the other, though, with the words c/o Alexis Sapieha, The Maze, Sherital Way, Taralon, prominent on the front, while on the back was a blue wax seal with the image of a swan, and the words Urgent. Give to Governor du’Galle personally. Do not open written below the seal. Other than creases and tears acknowledging failed and inept attempts to open it by couriers, it was still intact and sacrosanct.

Alexis took up his rucksack again and flung it over his right shoulder, keeping tight hold on the large packet and the envelope with his left hand after showing it to Milo. He continued walking towards the palace.

“It’s the strangest thing, this new missive, and it’s got Mummy’s own seal. I haven’t heard from them for quite some time. Uncle Max has probably got something to do with that, and, well…” Another pause and a querying look from his blue eyes, after which he stopped, just by the portico of the Palace, to look curiously at Milo’s green eyes. Wait a minute…

“Umm…Father said the Governor’s name was Adam. You wouldn’t happen to be his son, sir? If so, could you please take me to him?” There was a hint of pleading in his tone, with a somewhat anxious expression in his eyes.

“Father said, just before I left, that nothing, nothing was more important than placing this packet in his hands.”

[Milo L'Evienne]

His horsemanship. Milo only gave a nod of thanks, accompanied by a wry grin in return for the compliment. He made a point of appearing so. Though truth told it was anyone’s guess who was in charge the greater portion of the time…He, or his high strung and unapologetic mount. It was the case that he’d no riding experience at all when he’d purchased Lu, and from claims made by the stableman who’d matched him with the mare, had saved her from the stewpot for her fiery disposition. In truth, it was what had attracted Milo to her from the start and they’d come to a truce of sorts over time. Though for a time, it was only sheer determination and the grace of the gods that had kept him in the saddle thus far. Still, many likely believed they’d find lord L’Evienne’s bloody and broken body lying beneath a low slung branch one of these brightenings, with the unapologetic Lu grazing contentedly nearby.

But by the gods, the boy could talk. He grinned wider as Alexis fell in beside him. He’d been the same when he was younger. He might’ve confessed then that he was not the Governor, but the young man pressed on with an explanation that stalled his own for the moment. After all, the more the boy talked, the stronger Milo’s perception that there was no ill intent in this visitor’s presence. He glanced at the two letters and frowned, reading the words on the one sealed in blue. And considering the anxious expression on the boy’s face, concluded it was best to find Nellie.

He stopped alongside the young man and shook his head. ”No, I’m afraid I’m not his son, Lord Alexis. I suppose you’ve old information. Governor Adam du’Galle is passed, roughly a pattern gone. It is his daughter, Nell du’Galle, who governs Sheria now. I am her husband, Earl Milo du’Galle L’Evienne and Taralon’s public defender. I apologize if I misled you. It’s not often we’ve guests arriving straight to the palace gates and I might be accused of being rather protective of my bride,” he explained with an easy grin. ”If you’ll follow me, I’ll see if the Lady du’Galle can see you.” So saying, he opened the large front doors, only to be met in the foyer by a young footman having been alerted to their presence. 'My lord,' the fellow said with a bow and glanced at the visitor curiously. With a nod, Milo handed the man his hat and gloves and while the footman was prepared to take Alexis satchel if desired, Milo led the way into the main hall.

Once inside, the palace was an opulent residence indeed, richly decorated with brocades, velvets, furs and silks, with gorgeous works of art and tapestries adorning almost every wall. The furniture in the main hall was coordinated to match the province's official colours, with beautiful chairs in dyed cerulean blue upholstery, ornately carved tables of an unusual golden-hued wood, and a magnificent blue and gold carpet dominating the centre of the room. The fire crackled invitingly in the middle of the enormous hearth, releasing an appealing aroma of fragrant wood and creating a luxurious warmth in the room.

Perfectly-coiffed waitstaff, most notably a rotund woman with ruddy cheeks, slate-grey curls, and a ready (albeit gap-toothed) smile, were scattered at efficient locations around the main floor, dressed in neat blue and gold uniforms. Lady Seraphyna de LaRosa had certainly been busy, for every single position had been filled by worthy applicants, from the lowliest footman (of which there were three to ensure that there would never be a shortage of staff), to Mrs. Dandybrale, the cheerful housekeeper. The Palace, while stately and elegant to the max, certainly did not lack in charm or coziness, and provided a warm and inviting home for the gubernatorial family.

The two were met yet again in the main hall by a middle aged woman, round and ruddy cheeked, a friendly smile as she bobbed a curtsy to Milo and Alexis. ”Mrs. Dandybrale,” Milo greeted her with a familiar grin, this woman who did her best to mother him into a healthy diet and less brandy and cigars. ”Is Nellie…the Lady du’Galle in the parlor?” The woman, eyeing Alexis curiously, shook her head. ’Nay my lord, I believe she’s in her chambers.’

”Ahh, would you let her know then that there’s a young man, an important visitor with urgent business to see her? We’ll be found in the library, if you will.” Gaining her agreement as she departed, Milo turned back to Alexis. ”I’m sure she won’t be long if you’d like to follow me.” Leading the way, Milo walked down a side hall and entered a large oaken door, revealing a warm and welcoming library. Decorated in greens, blues, reds and tans, there were comfortable leather chairs and a couch, shelves lining two walls with a small table for reading, a large woven rug over polished wood floors and a few landscapes hung on the wall near the fireplace. Books lined the shelves, older and newer texts alike. A few of the volumes appeared as if they’d been damaged both by fire and water, but still seemed to hold a place of honor. There were a few other oddities on the shelves as well. Stage flowers and few other props including a chain of brightly colored kerchiefs, a rather flamboyant feathered hat… The room smelled faintly of cherry and cigarillo smoke. Clearly it was the room Milo preferred and felt most comfortable in.

Already alerted to a visitor, a young maid followed behind them, a silver tray balanced in her hands. A small, pretty human girl with pale blonde hair and brown eyes, she glanced at Alexis shyly as she set the tray on the table. ”Tea, my lord?” she asked with a glance at Milo, knowing full well he never touched the stuff. ”Thank you,” he said simply and dismissed her, left alone with Alexis to wait. ”Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable. It shouldn’t be long. Would you like some tea while you wait?” he asked, indicating the tray. ”By the way, I noticed your address was one in Taralon. How long have you been in the city?”

[Alexis Sapientia]

“Thank you…sir.” Alexis said as he followed Milo into the interior of the Palace, nodding to the footman, but not choosing to relinquish his prized satchel. Ah, so blues and golds seem to be the motif here. It’s certainly very different from the militant scarlet-and-black Father seems to have preferred. It’s certainly seems more airy and inviting here, instead of the gloomy precincts of Habichtsbergen, making it look more like a tawdry mausoleum. He likewise gave a tight-lipped smile and nod to Mrs. Dandybrale, the housekeeper. By Ioannes, she’s the spitting image of our cook.

On reaching the library, Alexis was amused to note the feathered hat, and pleased to sense the smell of cherries. Like nearly all libraries, or men’s drawing rooms, the place conveyed a sense of relaxed ease, which soft leather, thick rugs, cigars, and brandy further amplified. Yes, this is usually the room where the antler’s horns and fish jaws are hung, as well as old militaria, medals, suits of armor, and such. Interesting. Very warm, indeed, and very welcoming.

Alexis removed his rucksack, and sat himself down on a divan opposite where Milo positioned himself, and approved heartily with regard to the offer of tea, surreptitiously following the young girl with his eyes. She has a nice smile…and…err…well….

“Yes, I should like some, thank you.” It’ll take the edge off the rumbling in my tummy for the moment. Alexis gave a similarly shy smile in reply, and then helped himself when it arrived, daintily pouring from the silver tea service, and adding just a hint of milk, stirring it in such a way that neither teaspoon nor cup made a sound.

He leaned back on the sofa, set the saucer on top of his left palm, and took the teacup handle with his right thumb and forefinger, sipping slowly and savoring the warm liquid. Ah, simple joys. If there was one thing Alexis knew, it was etiquette. Mother’s fault, really, with me having no choice but to grin and bear it since I was five patterns old. Now perfectly sated, Alexis was ready to reply to the question put to him by the Earl L’Evienne—after another sip of tea, of course.

“I’ve been here in Taralon for…nearly a pattern now, I think,” he said, smirking oddly somewhat as he said so. Surely not, it seems so long. He set the half-full cup on the saucer, then the saucer on the table, and placed his left thumb, forefinger, and middle finger on his left cheek, lower lip resting on his left ring finger, his classic pensive gesture. After several minutes in thought, he replied.

“Yes, yes, I think that’s right. I left Habichtsbergen on…Kalendryas, I think…yes…that was the same era I turned sixteen.” That’s right. A good thing too, since Rainier was saying something about introducing me to his favorite courtesan as a sixteenth birth-brightening gift. Never trusted the bugger, what with being Uncle Max’s son and all. What the Jorel’s a courtesan, anyway? I wonder how he later got on… He set his hand down on the armrest and concluded with a tight smile. “And I’m turning seventeen this Junctior 24th, so, yes…that makes it close to a full three eras.” He fingered his pectoral emblem absentmindedly with his right hand. Amazing I lasted that long, alone, in a one-room apartment.

Alexis gave a somewhat wistful smile as he temporarily gazed to his left, a horizontal left forefinger on his lips, and then looked back at Milo, his eyes sparkling. “This is going to be…well…embarrassing. I think Father sent me off here in exile because Mother caught me in my room with a girl kissing me.” He bit his lower lip to stifle a chuckle, and managed to give a rueful shake of his head in return, both hands raised in mock surrender, both eyes twinkling. “It’s the gods’ honest truth: I never kissed her, she kissed me.” Alexis gave a sigh, rolled his eyes, and decided to lay some background.

“It was a few brightenings past my sixteenth birth-brightening, and we were playing around, it been a cycle-end, with no schola and all. She wanted me to show her my room, and so I did. I was seated on my bed, gesturing towards the copy of a Sanét at the wall, and explaining the differences between Sonét and Sanét, when she stops in mid-step, crinkles her nose, gives me this wicked smile, and then just, well, kisses me, squarely on the lips.” Alexis chuckled further, and tried to stifle it with the top of his right hand. “Sorry.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know what to do…it’s true, and I’ll admit it, it was the first time I’d ever been kissed like that.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Of course, Mother didn’t seem to see things my way, she claimed I’d been desecrating my holy office as Metropolitan of my fief—which the Patriarch had just bestowed a couple of brightenings back—and how I ought to have been ashamed, ‘rolling around in my bed with such a female’. I wasn’t rolling around in my bed with her! Mum exagerrates. It seems Father didn’t look too kindly either, after finding out Catherine was the daughter of one of our tenants. He cut off my allowance, forbade me to hold revenues from my fief or to raise any new tolls or taxes, and then sent me here, saying something about waiting for the scandal to die down, and ordering me to safeguard that packet at all costs, and to present it to the Governor after three eras after hearing no further word from him. To this brightening, I don’t understand it at all. It was just a kiss. It was innocent…but three eras is surely such a long time, wouldn’t you think? I don’t understand what’s so scandalous about it at all…” Alexis said to summarize, staring into his cup of tea. Then he looked up at Milo.

“You’re Public Defender, sir? Might I suppose that you’re Captain of the local militia, then? We’ve a similar position in Osteyricjh—that’s north of here, somewhere in the Eunesias—called the Defensor Civitatis. No-one wanted to take it, not even after Father doubled the pay. Always kept the poor fellow awake darkenings, tending to reports of lost children, the odd thief or two, and other strange things that go bump in the night. No, wait…” Alexis, you idiot! Don’t you remember a single fething thing from schola?

“Public defender! Isn’t that…what’s the Ancient Aelyrian word…Advocare? Conservare? You’re an officer of the shiring courts, something like that, right?” Alexis took a deep breath and clasped his hands in a prayerful gesture as he recalled the thick packet. Dear Ioannes, I hope it’s not an order to commit me at the local prison here. It was just a kiss…one kiss. Perhaps the reason it’s so thick is that it’s got the girl’s written testimony, or Father’s judgement, sitting in Manorial Court. He looked down on his feet, suddenly feeling the room close all around him. Oh, shythe. Have I walked into a trap?

Alexis felt the seed of fear take sudden root deep in his stomach, and Milo could surely sense the sudden change in his demeanor. I should have burned that packet the first chance I got, and claimed it never existed. Alexis decided to sip the rest of his tea, expecting it to be his last taste of it as a free man. It didn’t calm him, and it actually made him feel more nauseous. Alexis took several deep breaths as he sense the beginnings of hyperventilation, afterwhich, he was able to calm down, somewhat, burying his face in his hands, then letting them vertically drag across his face as he looked back up towards the Public Defender of Taralon.

With an awfully quiet, anxious voice, Alexis asked the question that had formed in his mind as he pondered his options. The Governor’s a female, so perhaps she’ll be lenient in her judgement. No! Stupid boy! She’s a female! Aren’t all females against kissing, particularly from cheeky fellows like me? Perhaps Lord L’Evienne will plead for me. That’s right, that’s my only defense, and it’s the truth, I swear it. Catherine kissed me. Oh, be merciful, dear Governor, be merciful. I’m only a kid, and I don’t want to die…

“Umm…My Lord, in your considered legal opinion, surely…kissing a girl’s not an aggravated crime in these parts?”

[Milo L'Evienne]

Leaned against the mantle, Milo watched with an almost morbid fascination while the kid put himself through a near ritual in preparing his tea. For himself, he couldn’t stomach the stuff and avoided it whenever possible. When he couldn’t without offense…Upon meeting lady Sarah du’Galle for the first time, she’d presented him with some foul and green concoction that he’d almost choked up on her gown in polite response. Nevertheless, it was a ritual that amused him with it’s apparent import to polite noble bearing. And that, he only played at when forced into it. Brandy and a good cigarillo were his preference.

And the latter, he indulged in while Alexis answered his question…and elaborated at length on varied topics. From a silver case on the mantle, he retrieved one of the thin smokes and lit it subtly with an understanding nod. But when the boy launched into a defense of his actions with a nameless young woman, the easy grin tightened to suppress a snort of amusement, made worse by inhaling smoke that should never be inhaled. By the gods, how had the kid survived a pattern on his own? Truth told, Milo often wondered how those raised nobly even managed to wipe their own noses. His was a far different upbringing. Temples, orphanages or left to fend for himself while Rioughe cooled his heels behind bars time to time, from the time he was barely four. Scandal had been the norm. Anything less wasn’t worth remembering.

The grin remained fixed when the conversation turned and he took a seat in one of the leather chairs, thumping a measure of ashes into a silver tray on the table. Osteyricjh, he wasn’t familiar with it, though near raised in the Eunesian isles. ”Right,” he agreed, sensing an opportunity to interject. ”I’m a conservator and advocate for the people, employed by the provincial government for purposes of advising the government on subjects of law, and providing a defense for those without the means or ability to provide for themselves.” An honorable profession, he thought, that paid only barely more than squat. He was about to offer Alexis another cup of tea when he sensed a marked change in the boy’s demeanor.

The rapid breathing, the apparent sense of panic concerned him enough. Just as much though, the suspicion that the kid looked a little green. Perhaps it was the lighting in the library, or perhaps he was about to throw up on the rug. Offers of more tea were dismissed and he shifted uncomfortably, wondering if he should call for the housekeeper. Their visitor didn’t look particularly well. And when Alexis finally spoke up, Milo might’ve suffered a snort of laughter, if not for the seriousness on the boy’s face. He glanced away with a tightened jaw, busied himself with thumping away another ash till he’d managed some semblance of composure.

By the gods, if it were considered a crime, he’d have been strung up before he was twelve. From as far back as he could remember, he’d slept nights in countless brothels while Rioughe spent his nights in those brothels as well, though not necessarily sleeping as sound as he. By the time he was fifteen, he’d taken up those same sleepless nights, under tutelage provided in those very houses. His own experiences might offer the young lord some peace of mind. Then again, with the risk of his bride waltzing in unexpectedly, the elaboration seemed ill advised at best.

But Diana’s britches, the boy needed a little tutelage in practical experience.

He leaned forward and elbows rested on knees, leveled a gaze as frank as he could manage. ”I couldn’t say. Unless of course,” he amended with a ‘worrisome’ expression fleeting on his face, a thoughtful rub at his jaw. It was an irrepressible nature that gave in to at least a small temptation…”No,” he added again after apparently reconsidering the legalities. ”Looks to me like you’ve a sound defense, what with the lass practically forcing herself on you.” He chuckled, patting Alexis on the shoulder before leaning back in his chair with his left foot propped on his right knee. ”No worries lad. If it were a crime, there’d be a rare man past the age of fifteen left free to roam the Empire.”

”But I’m curious,” he said, following a lazy puff at his cigarillo as he eyed the missives the other had brought along. ”You’ve had those awhile I’d imagine. You weren’t tempted to have a look before now?”

[Alexis Sapientia]

Alexis had seemed sufficiently convinced that total and complete ruin was forthcoming that indeed—as Milo guessed—the young Hospodar of Krytzillikinarnessus would very well have required an unintended trip to the privy in order to dispose of recent stomach contents.

No sigh of relief seemed greater than the one that Alexis had given after hearing the Public Defender speak. No hanging today seemed to be the sign the executioner had just tacked up at the local square, and a smile proportionate to the good…err…wonderful…news appeared on his young face, eventually becoming a near-chuckle when Milo had patted Alexis on the shoulder. That made Alexis pause for a pensive moment. No one’s ever done that to me before, not even Father. Why is that?

After that moment, the tremor in his fingers seemed to have dissipated of its own accord, and the tea looked strangely appetizing once more—not that he wanted, or needed any, at this point, thank you very much. Alexis had wanted to jump up and whoop for joy, but caught himself in time. After all, he didn’t know if he could do that, or if it was even proper.

Sometimes I want to do just as I please or feel, and damn the consequences. All this protocol can be stultifying at times. Then again, he didn’t really know Milo, not yet, and while this was a palace, it wasn’t his palace, so a certain measure of decorum was in order. It was the official residence of the Governor of the Sherian, after all.

“Tempted? Oh, yes, sir! Lots of times. I remember spending darkenings just staring at it, propped up on a desk, wanting to rip it apart and devour the contents with my eyes, and then use it for the fireplace, if naught was important. Somehow, I always got this feeling that…well…eventually I’d be found out, and there’d be Jorel to pay.” He gave a perceptible sigh and a shrug of the shoulders, with a similar glazed look down at the floor. Then he looked back up at Milo, the cigarette smoke floating lazily in the air as the only motion within the room for another long moment, until Alexis spoke in a near whisper, akin to that of a penitent at the confessional.

“There are times when…well…sometimes I wish I wasn’t who I am, and that I could be like any other kid, do all the things social convention wouldn’t have me do, like annoy passerby with pranks, throw stones and break windows, and get myself into all sorts of trouble, running away from the constables, just for the pleasure of it,” Alexis said with a guilty smile but sad eyes. “Somehow I feel…well…there are times I believe all this ceremonial stuff is all pointless, really, so you can imagine how much fun I first had when I was sent here, to live by myself. It was liberating not to be waited on hand and foot, and it was nice to be able to wake up, bleary-eyed, and with fussy hair, and wear disheveled clothing at rosyun.” He gave an unapologetic snort. “It was difficult, initially, subsisting on stale bread and a jar of jam, but I got used to it, and I must say, after a time I liked it. Homesickness arrives at times though, and well…it’s pretty dull if the only people one gets to really see are all servants or family, so I suppose having a very different girl, like Catherine, kiss me was a…joyous change of pace,” he said, while giving a dreamy look, staring absentmindedly at the ashtray. Then, recovering his senses, he looked back up at Milo.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me…I’m not supposed to be saying all this. It’s…discommoding...discomfiting…disconcerting.” Alexis bit his bottom lip and let his eyes fall back to the floor in a somewhat penitent deed.

Yes, I will say this in my secret heart of hearts: sometimes I need a friend who sees me as me, without all the titles, without the pomp and circumstance, without the practiced etiquette and polite backbiting akin to the Imperial Court. I’d like to find out what it’s like to get into a dirty punch-up of a game, or to be piss-drunk and singing bawdy songs at a tavern of undesirables. By Ioannes, I want to see what it’s like to really live, before it’s too late.

[Milo L'Evienne]

Milo could only guess at what he’d said to improve the kid’s apparent angst. Whatever it was exactly, it’d seemed to work. Alexis looked substantially less green, and the notion that he’d be apologizing to one of the maids bent over a mess on the rug seemed less likely. Or worse, explaining to Nellie how he’d managed to turn a perfectly healthy guest into a bundle of quivering nerves in the space of half a candlemark. Nevertheless whether the young…apparent noble wanted it or not, he declined offering more tea.

Relaxed in the leather chair, he grinned wryly at Alexis’ misgivings about opening the missives. He would’ve, no doubting it. He would’ve heated the seals till they let loose, read the letters, then heated the seals again, just enough to seal them back again. He always had that feeling anyway…Getting caught, something going wrong. But he was of too impulsive a nature to give either much thought till all was over and done with. As a result, both the former and the latter were oft occurring conditions, no matter his best intentions. Lucky for him, Nellie knew the man she married, so she was rarely surprised, and more often inclined to forgive.

But the tilted grin faded somewhat as the boy spoke on, and silent tendrils of cherry scented smoke drifted into the air between them. Apparently, it was a far different upbringing than Milo’s. What Alexis dared to imagine doing, had been second nature to Milo. The least of what he might’ve done, under his own sire’s prodding. When Alexis paused, he snuffed out the cigar and regarded the other rather frankly. ”I can’t say I’m familiar with practicing too much restraint, or expectations of the same. My upbringing was far different than yours, I suspect. In fact, I’d say I’ve had a harder time adjusting to this,” he added with a gesture of his hand, a sweeping gesture that encompassed all things noble, polite and politically correct. "My title is by marriage, not birth," he confided in the other with a wink. It was common knowledge, his nature and background, and he was as proud of that background as one of far higher birth might be.

”But who says you’re not the master of your own will? You’ve only to reconcile it with the likely consequences and what you want in the end.” No doubt, the kid’s parents wouldn’t appreciate the advice the public defender had to offer. But he didn’t give it much thought. The boy was of an age to know his own mind, even if he didn’t.

”At any rate,” he said, the wry grin returning. ”The loneliness, I can relate to. Before meeting my wife, I was the prefect of Medonia. I never had a moment to myself, was surrounded with work, nobles and politicians from morn till night. But still isolated till I met Nellie. You’re young, lord Alexis. I wouldn’t worry over much. You’ll know your own mind, soon as you feel free to explore it. Maybe those missives will reveal something,” he suggested with a nod at the parchments.

[Nell L'Evienne]

She was late. There was nobody but herself to blame for this, but the matter remained thus. There was a meeting scheduled for half a candlemark’s time in her office at the Council and yet still she dallied in her bedchamber. Dallied is the wrong word. She … lingered. She sat. She stood and paced. She sat again. She stood and threw open the windows and went onto the balcony. The fresh air made her feel faint. She retreated indoors. “Ioannes teeth,” the young woman muttered, sitting down again, hunching forward with a groan. Her reflection in the looking-glass opposite told the tale well as her usual rosy cheeks stood stark white against the deep browns of her hair, scraped back into a long braid. The colour of her chemise, a rich cream, did little to alleviate the rather sickly picture. Late for work, a guest waiting below and all she could do was try and hold onto her composure enough to not throw up. Surely the pracenda the previous darkening had been beautifully cooked as usual. It had been a simple yet delicious repast. And yet there was no doubt as her stomach convulsed that something was about to make an unusual reappearance.

Bolting for the bathroom, Nell barely made it in time before the unrecognisable remains of the late night supper hit the porcelain. Three retches wracked her body before she staggered back, repelled by the stench of the vomit. She grabbed a washcloth and rinsing it quickly, dabbed at her face, cleaning away the evidence. It had been a clean hurling – shooting straight with no splatters – so her dress did not need changing. Yet the odour… it hung in her nostrils and her throat burned. The only consolation was that she now felt better. The nauseous aura had departed to leave her feeling her usual self once more and after quickly swilling away the evidence and lighting a perfumed candle to clean the air, she hurried back into the bedchamber.

Yes she looked better. It was almost a miraculous recovery as pink returned to her cheeks and her eyes regained their shine. A little perfume, a little gargling and all was put to right. No one would know and she now had … a quarter of a candlemark to get to her meeting. Well she would have to be late. There was a visitor below that would provide excuses enough when she finally arrived at the Council buildings.

Therefore with a light step she hurried down the grand staircase, the plum full skirt flowing behind her, towards the library where she had been informed Milo was receiving their guest. Her hand was shaking a little as she pulled at the black bodice, a nervous adjustment that always plagued her when meeting new people, before opening the door to the library. Ioannes knew who had come to visit in the morning and why they could not find the council buildings like anyone else, yet she smiled as she came in, seeing her husband sat in one of the leather chairs and a younger man, barely in his adulthood at first sight with him.

“Gentlemen, serale,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

[Alexis Sapientia]

Inhibitions. So Lord L’Evienne isn’t very familiar with practicing too much restraint. I suppose then he thinks at the top of his head, and therefore speaks what he thinks. Alexis studied that thought with his chin atop his right palm, while his right elbow dug into the smooth trousers he wore. Come to think of it, that doesn’t seem such a bad idea to work with. It’s not like I’ve many secrets to keep, and Lord Milo appears to be a nice fellow, surely one worthy of one’s trust. He emptied his teacup, utilizing the silence to pose a few questions of his own, having reflected on the Public Defender’s words.

Who says you’re not the master of your own will?

Mother does.

You’ve only to reconcile it with the likely consequences, and what you want in the end. What do you want in the end?

I want to be free…free to be me.

You’ll know your own mind, soon as you feel free to explore it.

Somehow that last thought seems very reassuring. Perhaps I shall find my own mind, and think my own thoughts, very soon. Alexis took his own glance at the parchments. All we need now is for the Governor to grace us with her presence, and perhaps we can solve this mind-numbing question once and for all. Alexis now faced the Conservator of the People with a steadier and more confident grin, and was about to reply when the door opened, and with not much stately preamble, Nell Eventide du’Galle L’Evienne entered and first laid eyes on the stranger within her household gates.

So, this is the lady of the palace… Alexis thought before he felt a burning sensation fill his cheeks. By Ioannes, she’s very attractive. His eyes glinted, and he gave an involuntary boyish smile that barely revealed his pearly-white teeth, hiding them from view by looking down on the floor, biting his lower lip for second, and composing himself. It wouldn’t do for me, heir of my House, and Metropolitan and Hospodar of my own fief, to look like a silly arse in front of the lady, even if she is so very…argh! Get hold of yourself, Alexis!. He mentally chided himself, trying very hard not to blush, and silently cleared his throat, let go of his rucksack, setting it down on the ground, before placing his right hand on his chest, and making a deep formal bow, the standard greeting in Krytzillikinarnessus. He introduced himself in a relaxed, aristocratic tone, the one with perfect diction, though spoke more slowly than the way he had earlier with the palace sentry, hoping that in doing so, he would be more understood.

“Salvaluti, Your Imperial Excellency. I am truly honored to have made the pleasure of your acquaintance. Thank you for receiving me on such short notice. By your leave, I should like to introduce myself. Alexis…von Habichtsbergen…van der Osteyricjh, of the House of Sapientia, Hospodar and Metropolitan of Krytzillikinarnessus.”

He gave a smile that was by no means faked, and probably was even wider than the norm. By Aslan, why’d Father let me wait three fething eras in order to finally get here? I was pissing away time locked up in that dingy room along the Sherital Way! Then followed a courtly and graceful bow.

“How do you do, My Lady? I was told to present this to you and await your pleasure.” He said in lilting tones, nodded, and then dug into his rucksack to produce an aging and brittle thick cream parchment folded twice horizontally and twice vertically at the edges, and with an enormous red-wax seal securing the package, bearing an image of three towers, and an image of a double-headed eagle surmounting it. Opening the covering somewhat aging parchment would reveal the following contents in a black spidery script, apparently written by a strong and learned hand:

~<(L)>~

43 Cryxatum
Era Seven in the Age of the Darkening.

The Imperial Excellency of the Governor of the Sherian and of House du’Galle at the Palace at Taralon is bestowed warm greetings by Leopold of House Sapientia at Habichtsbergen.

My Dear Governor,

I bring greetings from Habichtsbergen, and I must ask pardon for abruptness, as well as for this great break from traditional courtesy, for I seek from your most puissant self a very great boon, which I, in all grace and hope ask.

I introduce to you my eldest son, Alexis, who as you read this, may very well be in front of you. It is a difficult thing that I ask, but alas, I have been left no choice. Circumstances force me to commit him away from this place, and into your protection.

It is no secret that my brother, Maximillian, covets leadership of House Sapientia, as well as our lands and other possessions in the Eunesias, may Jorel smite him and the rest of his cursed line for all the ages. I grow old with the ravages of time, and I fear it shall be but a matter of time until that rake Max takes over. Max is truly the runt of the family, and is most decidedly not a very moral man. His son, Rainier, is of like mind, a twisted soul who lives solely to abuse wine and women, and all that is important to them is to fill their bellies and lay waste to the patrimony of the House.

Maximillian has expressed time and again that it would be a pity if Alexis were to remain at Habichtsbergen after my death. He has hinted at such grotesque punishments for pretended crimes so against the Articles of Imperium that have made me quail, but I cannot, and shall not give in to blackmail, even if his friends at the Imperial Court promise that justice shall not be had in our province or elsewhere. Not while that crazed warlock defiles the Imperial Throne.

I am forced to send Alexis to you, and his sister, Alexandra, to someone else, for none of my relatives will take them. Maximillian’s strength and influence in this area grows powerful, and my own men-at-arms, I do not trust, for Max controls the House Treasury. Thus I have billeted him in secret in Taralon, and have made provision that should he not hear from me in a pattern, he is to present himself to you, with this parchment in tow. As this letter has been presented, it is without doubt that I have already left this Telath by some treachery.

I plead with you, in the name of the Gods, that you kindly take my son into your keeping and under your protection until it is safe enough for my wife or my loyal subjects to send him home. I beg of you, guide him in the ways of Right and Truth, and use him as you should see fit. He has a good head and a kind heart, and a mind towards true and benevolent leadership, but he is not strong enough yet to face the evils of this world, nor the corruption that lurks beneath it. Naught have I to send in repayment, neither lands, retainers, nor business interests, much less for your boarding or keeping him, except for my eternal gratitude and that of my line of the House. I apologize profusely for any previous grievances you may have held against me and I pray you look kindly upon my request.

I know my young man will make you proud one brightening, as he already has made me, growing up through all these eras. It seems I shall not be able to view the famed Vorgan Mines after all, despite a kind invitation. Ioannes keep you strong, Du’Galle. The Sherian is lucky to have you.

L. I. Sa.

It was verified with a large beribboned red wax seal with the image of the letter L surmounted by a double-headed eagle and a coronet. Included along with the packet, however, was a smaller folded piece of parchment with the same spidery script, apparently more recent in authorship, but written in a shakier hand. On its front was written the words c/o Alexis Sapieha, The Maze, Sherital Way, Taralon, while on the back was a blue wax seal of a swan, and the words Urgent. Give to Governor du’Galle personally. Do not open. Other than creases and failed attempts to open it, it was still intact.

My Lord du’Galle,

I know we barely know each other, but I beg of you, as a lasting and dying favor, please, take Alexis under your wing and let him not know of all this until he is strong enough to avenge them. He takes after me, the poor thing, too kindly and trusting, but I know true blood will tell in time. He believes that he is there to apprentice under you in learning how to govern and rule until his age of majority, as Leo told him.

Max has been shown proof that Alexis and Alexandra have died from the pox and were burned, but in so doing, I and Leopold have contracted the same, and Max exults in Leo’s approaching death. He lies weak and illucid, it is only a matter of time. So long as Alexis stays away from the Northern Marches of the Empire, he should be safe. Spare him this grief he should not be shouldering at so young an age. Alexandra knows where he is, and should contact him within several patterns. All I can give him as a seventeenth-pattern gift is his birthright, this, Leopold’s ring, and his lead seal as head of House Sapientia. Give them to him when you see fit. That devil’s imp Max has taken everything and locked us in the Tower and thrown away the key. A trusted maid shall mail this. Do not let my son worry about us, let him live his life. I kiss him warmly on his forehead, and tell him that I love him very much. I did not send him away for seeing that girl; it was to save his own life. I pray he is not heartbroken, and that he finds a female to bring him happiness. Diana knows there is much this poor boy does not deserve.

Ioannes bless you. I was wrong not to have heeded your counsel sooner. Farewell. I wish I and Leopold could have spared sufficient time to have the honor to truly call you a friend.

Caroline. Sapt.
36 Melora, Era IX.

An engraved gold ring and a lead object the size of an Aelyrian crown were encased in wax below the signature.

[/quote]

“Father says the large one is my credentials, other boring paperwork for the Governor’s eyes only. I’ve been keeping it for nearly a pattern now.” Alexis said with a shake of his head, a roll of his eyes and an impish smile. “He likewise says that he’ll meet you soon. That smaller letter is a strange thing. I received that one here in Taralon only last cycle, but it’s postmarked from home with mother’s seal and addressed to the Governor, and I presume that’s you, my lady.” Strange, but father said he was a man. He pursed his lips. “The Imperial Mail must be having difficulty what with all these wars on. It looks like it got lost.” He gave another boyish smile. “Perhaps father’s had second thoughts and decided to call me home? I haven’t seen my sister Lexie in a long time, and it’s the Gods’ honest truth, I never kissed Catherine on the lips, she kissed me…” Alexis asked hopefully, correctional penalty still on his mind despite Milo’s kind reassurances.

“…a bit of bad luck mum opened the door to see that, of course…” he said under his breath.

[Milo L'Evienne]

Milo pulled himself out of the leather chair when Nell entered the room and smiled at her curiously as he stood. He’d expected her to be gone for the government complex by now, or at least seated in the dining room for Rosyun. He’d intended to join her there after his morning ride, if she’d lingered. But unaware of her struggles in the chamber as he'd left her sleeping when he'd gone out, he was left to think little of it. As for his own tardiness for work, and he’d now be more so, it had been deliberate. A ride on Lu, in addition to being invigorating to the extent of posing a grave threat to life and limb, effectively cleared the mind. A direct result, he’d admit, of all his energy being put into staying astride and keeping his well being intact. But peril aside, the habit tended to get his blood pumping for whatever task he’d find waiting for him when he arrived.

Now dressed in riding breeches and sleeveless tunic, he’d have to get cleaned up before making way for the office. ”Good bright’ning love,” he said with a wry grin as he approached and kissed her cheek, smelling of horseflesh, leather and sweat. Him, not her cheek. Waiting for Alexis to introduce himself and preferring to leave to his love the struggle with unfamiliar title and name rather than grappling with them himself, he made his excuses.

”I’m late for the office, and it’s mediation day. If I’m much longer the clerks will have my hide for all the hallway droppings left behind by the small livestock...Those the locals tend to favor paying me with for settling their grievances,” he said with a wry grin. ”By the way, there's a small pig in the stables. Payment for settling a contested will. We might relocate him to the farm?” he asked, grin widening. ”As it is, I’ll leave you to our visitor and clean myself up. And if the gardener asks what befell the rose bushes near the gates, I know nothing of it,” he vowed with a wink at her and turned back to Alexis. ”Lord Alexis,” he said with a nodding smile. ”It was a pleasure, but now I’ll leave you to your business. Perhaps we’ll reacquaint ourselves soon.” Having said as much, he excused himself and left the library, bound for the stairs and the chambers he shared with Nell.

[Nell L'Evienne]

Nell stood, a little bemused by the long title and formal bow that was the introduction of young Alexis, yet she smiled kindly and accepted the two letters from the polite young man. “Ah, thank you… Metropolitan of Krytzilli…? I’m sorry, you must forgive my ignorance,” she began to reply before wondering if by opening the sealed parchments all would be revealed. However Milo was taking his leave and grinning at her love, she proffered her cheek gladly for the enthusiastic kiss. Another pig for the farm in the countryside would not go amiss. “Have a good brightening, Milo,” she replied as he was leaving, her eyes following him until he left the room and then lingering a moment more on the closed door.

Her attention then returned to the young man in the library and taking a seat, she indicated that Alexis could sit once again. “I’m afraid I don’t have too long,” she said in apology, “But from what you say, these letters were probably intended for my late father, Adam du’Galle. It has been some time since he passed away – he was among the first victims of this terrible pox …” As she spoke, Nell looked directly at Alexis with no tone of sadness regarding her father’s passing. She had never known the man herself and any grief displayed would have been false – as far as she was concerned she had still never forgiven him for abandoning her mother, no matter how marvellous everyone else thought him to have been.

“Whereabouts are you from, again? My knowledge of the geography of the Empire is only what was taught at school and I don’t recognise the name you gave… ” Breaking the seal of the first parchment, Nell grinned at Alexis. He was only a pattern or so older than her brother surely, but then by that same token just a pattern or so younger than herself. Her eyes began to skim over the words, “Or that of Habichtsbergen …” she added as she read the greeting to her father.

[Alexis Sapientia]

“Please, if Your Imperial Excellency wishes, she may call me…Alexis.” The boy gave a polite, tightmouthed grin. He took a proferred seat on the couch, taking care to keep to a suitable distance as protocol dictated. The boy did note the enthusiastic affections traded between the Governor and First Gentleman of the Sherian, and despite his trying his best to suppress it, a bit of jealous envy appeared on his face. That soon changed to something approaching commisseration, on hearing of the passing of what seemed to be the packet’s intended recipient, and then a nod in understanding as the Lady Du’Galle sought further directions to his home.

Somehow the thought of ‘Your Imperial Excellencying’ the Governor of the Sherian every so often appeared tiresome, if not a trite challenging to one’s tongue. Alexis couldn’t bring himself to calling her ‘madam’, for it raised connotations of a keeper of a house of ill-repute, which surely the lady before him most definitely was not. As for addressing her with the more concise version, as ‘ma’am’, well…she doesn’t seem to have any offspring at the moment, despite her age. Certainly she maintained the figure and the cheery disposition of one who hadn’t yet foully cursed Aeternia and all creation within the span of a few candlemarks. That caused the boy to frown. Perhaps ‘my lady’ appears to be a suitable compromise. He tentatively nodded at that. ‘My lady’ it is.

The young noble took out his prized leather-covered journal, and began eagerly flipping pages, until he finally came across a black-inked sketch of the continental coastline fronting the Eunesias, one of a few drawings he’d made while passing the time here in Taralon.

“This here is my home, my lady. It’s a nice coastal area, temperate climes, and all. As you can see it is very close to the Eunesian islands, where we would usually spend the winter months…” He explained with enthusiasm, pointing here and there, until he remembered something, frowned, and looked a bit worried, interrupting himself in mid-explanation.

“Please, my lady, if this audience inconveniences you, I may return at some other appropriate time. I wouldn’t want to unduly inconvenience you from attending some more pressing affair of state.” This he said with an embarrassed smile.

[Nell L'Evienne]

Nell continued to read the first parchment, a slight frown marking her otherwise pretty features as she began to take in the circumstances surrounding the young man who sat in her library. She paused to look at where Alexis was indicating his home to be, nodding briefly before continuing to read. It took some time, especially when she came to the second although it was shorter in length. Bad news takes time to absorb and both were read a second time, thus keeping poor Alexis somewhat in suspense. Finally she looked up at the young face opposite her.

“… No, no you aren’t detaining me. Please do not concern yourself, Alexis,” she murmured. “I’m finding that most things can usually wait for attention longer than first appears.” Yet how long could she keep this news from Alexis? The letters had pleaded that he be protected from what the letters contained. It was over an era since the second letter had been written and goodness knows what had happened to his sister. That she might turn up in a few patterns time at the palace looking for Alexis was not guaranteed. And how was Nell to judge when the young man was strong enough to take the news. He was… seventeen patterns? Would he resent being protected from the dreadful news that his parents had died, that his uncle had been a traitor to his family? She couldn’t think of a solution. Not at this time anyway. A few more cycles of delay would not make any difference, she reasoned. Obligation to the friendship between their parents and a sense of sympathy for the young man before her dictated Nell’s immediate reactions.

“Alexis, your parents requested that you be taken in as a guest of the du’Galles. I am happy to grant that request and welcome you to the Palace. Unfortunately I cannot stay to show you your rooms personally, if you decide to stay, but I will inform the housekeeper of your presence. Please think of my home as your home.”

Carefully Nell folded up the letters and stood. She smiled, although her eyes held a sadness. Later that brightening, she resolved to show the letters to Milo and ask his counsel. Too much was happening for her to think clearly now. “So, unless there is anything you’d like to ask now, Alexis, I must take my leave, but I will see you tonight at pracenda.”

[Alexis Sapientia]

A guest at the palace? Here? In Taralon? I wonder why Mum and Da would think that…

The young boy merely gave a thin smile and nodded in shy acknowledgement, his blue eyes taking on a reflective sparkle as he opened his eyelids, corneas now refreshed.

“Thank you for your kind invitation, my lady, though I do hope that you are not unduly inconvenienced by this…apparently unscheduled imposition.” He looked down once more at his shoes, for the moment, and then gave something that could be described as a boyish smile, somewhat eager in appearance, perhaps even a grin of gratitude. “By your leave, then, m’lady, I shall see to my dispositions.” He was about to get up when he noticed the sad tinge in her eyes, and would have commented on it, except that protocol did not permit him so. If she chooses to inform me of it, first, then perhaps I may offer a kind observation, but otherwise…

Thus, with that seemingly pregnant pause that was swathed in something akin to a heavy silence, Alexis awaited the formal permission of the Governor of the Sherian to leave, though if she did arise first, only then could he suitably follow and thereby dismiss himself. Such were the rules of protocol, which, even in these troubled times, were still followed to the letter by the keepers of the bloodlines of noble houses. They were inflexible.