So Mionet could not for the life of her understand why a summons to court made the Duke and Duchess of Andelin behave as if the sky were falling in.
“…all right,” the duke was murmuring, just loud enough for her sharp ears to catch it. On the front steps of the manor, he was clutching his small wife as if he thought someone might tear her away. “I promise. I’ll write to Duchess Ereguil and see if she might like a season in the city next year. Perhaps we can stay at their estate, there’s not much time to set up our own household, so it would save us the trouble…”
His voice was very different from his usual stiff, cold tones, and Mionet wondered whether she ought to silently excuse herself and the maids; this was not a moment for public consumption. But it was also likely she would hear some veryinteresting things if she stayed, and before she could decide, she heard the duchess speak, slightly muffled in His Grace’s shirtfront.
“…time to plan a debut?” she asked anxiously. “Do we have to stay the whole season? Or could we just go and see what he wants and leave? I don’t know if I can learn that fast.”
“We’ll prepare for both, but don’t worry. The duchess is a Rose of Segoile herself, you know. Utterly terrifying, according to the old man. And I have been wanting you two to meet anyway, it won’t be…”
As he spoke, he was nudging her toward the house, and for a moment, Mionet wondered if she might have been mistaken. The duke didn’t seem bothered at all now; maybe it was only the shock of the summons, and worry for the duchess. But at the threshold of the house, His Grace glanced over his shoulder and shot her a look with such clear and piercing command, it effectively nailed her feet to the front steps.
There was time to think, while he was inside. She knew the history between the duke and the Emperor; every child in the Empire had heard it. Remin, the son of a House convicted and executed for grave insult to the sacred House of Agnephus. Innocent of any crime himself, he had still been tarred with the stigma of traitors, and Mionet could have listed half a dozen attempts on his life that were common knowledge. The Emperor expressed outrage every time, of course.
No doubt it would be dangerous for His Grace to go to Segoile. But it was hardly the first time; he had visited several times before and lived to tell the tale. And while fashionable society would be a nightmare for the timid duchess, it was not the end of the world. As His Grace noted, she would not go alone.
Mionet’s lips curved. It was early, no doubt; maybe a littletooearly for her own scandal to have faded away completely. But perhaps it would work out as she hoped after all. She had begunto think the duke and duchess would hardly be moved from the valley by anything short of an imperial command.
It was some time before His Grace appeared again, his boots thudding down the stairs to the first floor. Mionet put on a carefully sober expression.
“Your Gra—” she began, but he cut her off.
“I don’t know why Duchess Ereguil sent you,” he said, looking down at her with eyes like black ice. “I am inclined to trust her judgment, for all that you are not the companion I would have chosen for my wife. I was going to wait, and give all of you a chance to get used to life here before I required your oaths. But we do not have that luxury. You will swear your life and your soul to my House now, or you will go out of this place tonight. I will provide passage to wherever you like. Choose.”
Mionet hesitated. There was a very good reason Duchess Ereguil had sent her, but it did not alignat allwith Mionet’s own plans. And this was not an oath to be made lightly; she had never sworn such an oath even to Lady Carolen, it was one thing to serve House Andelin but something else entirely to beboundto them. But life was a gamble and sometimes there was no choice but to roll the—
“I will swear it,” she said as his black brows lowered ominously. Quickly, she gathered herself and knelt before him. “Your Grace. I, Mionet Verr, swear my fealty and homage to the House of Andelin, to His Grace Duke Remin and Her Grace the Duchess Ophele. I swear to guard your honor and your secrets in this life and the next, and to offer my skills and abilities unstinting in your service. If I should ever violate this oath, or fail in your trust, then may my life and soul be forfeit.”
Stars above, may she not live to regret this.
“I accept your oath,” the duke replied. “I swear to reward service with honor, duty with protection, and I will kill you myself if you betray us.”
He paused, and seemed to find this insufficient. Mionet had a disorienting sense of darkness descending as he bent his head, those opaque black eyes looming above her, the broad face, the scarred cheek, and flashing teeth.
“That is not a threat,” he explained. “That is an oath. If you betray us, I swear before the eternal stars that I will kill you with my own hands. It will be my sacred duty, the shackle placed on my soul, that I will find you wherever you go and slay you. I will not be foresworn. If I evensuspectthat you will betray us, then I may decide to kill you before you can. Do not give me reason to doubt you. Do you understand?”
“…yes.” The word was faint, forced through suddenly numb lips. This was not Segoile, with its social posturing and theatrics. This was the Andelin Valley. And if Remin Grimjaw made an oath to kill her, it was becausehe would do it.
“Good. I will be out late tonight. Right now, I want you to go upstairs and sit with her, and no more foolish talk about how it will take a year to plan her debut or how difficult it will be to navigate society because she has four months to learn it and she knowsnothing.She was taughtnothing.Her father wants me dead and until now has never shown the least interest in whether she was alive. Understood?”
This was a lot to take in at once.
“I understand. Your Grace,” Mionet added, grasping the courtesy like a lifeline. A month in the valley and a few tender scenes with his wife and she had forgotten that this was Remin Grimjaw, the butcher of Ellingen. Men, women, or children, he could, would, and had killed anyone who stood against him.
And she had just sworn an oath to bind herself to his House.
“Good. Then go and keep your oath,” he said, and departed with the boiling air of a gathering storm, calling for Adelan as he went.
***
It didn’t take long for Remin to gather his men.
Most of them were on their way to supper anyway, so it was a simple matter to direct them to the offices above the storehouse and have food brought up. As he waited for the last of them to arrive, Remin tried to calm the churning in his gut and assess the threat rationally. There was no dangeryet.He knew that, but after so many years of war, sometimes it was difficult to convince his body.
Ophele was safe. She was at home under the watchful eyes of Leonin and Davi, who would die before they allowed harm to come to her. Remin congratulated himself for his foresight there; the thought of her hallows relieved his mind considerably. The devils had done him the dubious favor of scouring the valley of any other possible threat, and Juste had men searching the Empire for any signs of forces mobilizing. They were safe. They were safe.
As they gathered, the summons from the Emperor passed from hand to hand, fine paper and many more words than necessary to say what the messenger had conveyed in a single sentence. The phraseEmperor’s beloved childhad appeared no less than five times.
“These are current as of last month,” said Lord Edemir of Trecht without waiting to be asked, setting maps of the Empire and the capital on the table. He served as Remin’s Court of Merchants and Exchequer, and knew exactly what Remin was planning to do.
