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“Good evening, Lord Vitruvian,” I responded, matching his businesslike tone.
I was fine with the focus on business that evening. More than fine. I was looking forward to putting some of my other lessons to use that night, the ones that didn’t involve me burning under his touch, then left in the cold for days. I took the elbow he offered.
Walking into the grand parlor, Jay presented our guests with something close to a smile.
Throughout dinner, I played my part well. Implementing the knowledge from my lessons with the high lord, I asked the right questions at the right moments to show interest but not give away any particular motives of House Vitruvian.
After dinner, while Jay and Jim Shoal enjoyed a cigar on the veranda adjacent to the bar, I decided to try my hand at one of the lessons Jay had spoken to me about at length—the way to wield silence in a conversation like a sword, staving off the urge to speak and enticing the other person in the conversation to fill the void and offer up information they would have otherwise kept to themselves.
Lady Shoal and I remained inside of the bar, lounging in two comfy oversized leather chairs. I began by establishing a friendly rapport with the lady, using the skills I’d honed long before joining the High Court. I was very conscious of the edge that inhabited my eyes. It was the look of tough times and hard choices that could not be concealed, no matter what kind words I offered. I knew this about myself and combined with my penchant to offer a straight face where a smile was needed, I’d long ago developed a system to disarm the unease that regularly hung between myself and other women.
I dismissed Jena for the night and offered to pour Lady Shoal a glass of wine myself. Lady Shoal had terrible taste, requesting a glass of our sweetest wine, but I obliged, intending to pour myself a nip of scotch. I’d remained silent, maintaining a pleasant, nonthreatening smile on my face, while I walked across the room to the selection of bottles behind the bar. I opened a bottle of pink moscato, poured a glass for the lady, made a show of selecting the scotch I wanted for myself, and then filled my own short glass. Then I made my way back over to the lady, offering her the stemmed wine glass I held in my left hand.
I could see it was working. I could see the silence eating at her. She was the type who would prattle on about almost anything once she’d had a glass or two of wine. And she was now several glasses deep into the evening. I raised my glass to my lips, taking a second to inhale the burn of the scotch before taking a sip. I exaggerated my enjoyment of the beverage before finally looking up at Lady Shoal and giving her a minuscule smile.
Taking a drink from her own glass and unable to endure the silence any longer, the lady began to spill the details of her and Lord Shoal’s agenda since arriving at the High Court. A lesser lord who ruled over a small town a few hours outside of Vlaise, Lord Shoal did not maintain a manor at the High Court. The Shoals arrived in Vlaise three days ago and were staying in High Lord Vincent Rein’s manor, Lady Shoal explained. She shifted in her chair, growing more animated as the words began to flow from her.
“We were all enjoying a lovely evening when Lord Tragon arrived, seemingly in a foul mood. Of course, I’m not sure Cole Tragon is ever the kind of company you want just stopping by. He pulled Lord Shoal and Lord Rein into a separate room,” Lady Shoal continued, expressing her annoyance at the disruption.
Cole Tragon was High Lady Tragon’s only son and heir to House Tragon. I nodded my head in encouragement, offering the lady platitudes to keep the conversation moving. “Uh huh,” “that’s interesting,” I sprinkled in between the lady’s words. It seemed she no longer really cared what I said and instead enjoyed the sound of her own voice, prodded by the nearly empty glass of wine in her hand.
“Well, when they came back from speaking with Lord Tragon, Jim’s mood matched Lord Tragon’s, and Vince didn’t seem particularly happy either. So, Lady Rein and I were left to our own devices the rest of the evening. Lady Rein had the most beautiful…” the lady drolled on.
Finally. Something useful in Lady Shoal’s dribble. What could Cole have said to agitate the other lords?
I checked back into the conversation with Lady Shoal. She had moved on to discussing her admiration of Lady Rein’s jewelry collection.
“Beaufords has the most dazzling earrings. I bet that’s where Lady Rein purchased hers,” I placated. “A shame the lords were so upset by Lord Tragon’s visit, though,” I noted, turning the conversation back to what I really wanted to discuss.
“Oh, well, it wasn’t much of anything. They eventually got over it, you know. Just some young don, Don Davante, someone from House Dumont, is stirring up trouble, trying to unite the lesser fae and whatnot.”
I could tell by the way Lady Shoal said the word “don” that she did not think much of the title. Technically, the difference between a lord and a don was the ownership of land. A lord owned land or was “landed,” a don did not. Practically, the difference between a don and lord was that a don would be lesser fae and a lord would be high fae. This tended to be the case almost without exception because of the historic concentration of land in high fae families which was perpetuated over the years through inheritances by the male line of the high fae families.
“Lord Tragon doesn’t care for it at all,” Lady Shoal continued. “Cole tried to convince Vincent that they should take a strong stance against the lesser fae independence movement because their northern Houses are the ones surrounded by lesser fae and the ones who will be targeted by any rebellion. Apparently, Lord Rein didn’t see eye to eye with Cole. Cole stormed off, muttering something about having to do it himself. Whatever that means,” she said dismissively. “You know, Jim has always thought Vince was a littletoosympathetic toward the lesser fae. Jim’s cousin, Lord Garaud, has a nice place up north, and he doesn’t seem to mind. But I’m happy we live in the south and away from most of the lesser fae,” the lady rambled, taking note of the gold in my eyes and realizing, too late, what she had just said to her half lesser fae host.
Her comment confirmed the bigotry I thought I’d sensed in her. I ignored it. The lady had finally given me something worth sharing with Jay.
Later that evening, after the Shoals departed, Jay and I sat in the bar and compared notes from our conversations with the lord and lady over a nightcap.
“Did Lord Shoal mention Cole Tragon’s visit to High Lord Rein’s manor?” I asked.
I’d waited to mention this last.
“No. That did not come up,” Jay replied, interestedly.
“Lady Shoal, in her slightly bigoted ramblings”—I let my annoyance twist my lips—“mentioned that Cole had visited to discuss Don Davante’s recent push to unite the lesser fae. But the interesting part is that it sounds like Cole wanted something from High Lord Rein, and Lord Rein didn’t give it to him. And then Cole made some kind of ominous promise about doing whatever it was himself.”
Jay gave me an appraising look. I glowed under the weight of his gaze.
“Last time we talked about the issues with the lesser fae at the High Council meeting, High Lord Rein didn’t weigh in, and as usual, the high lady and I were on opposite sides of the issue,” Jay explained. “I know House Tragon is up to something. But it’s going to take more than a visit from Cole to convince Vince to take some kind of direct action against the lesser fae. As long as the lesser fae remain peaceful, at least,” he added.
“I met Cole the other day,” I remarked, not hiding my distaste.
Something flashed in Jay’s eyes like cold anger. “And how did that go?” he asked, a bit too rigidly.
The intensity of the look on Jay’s face made me hold on to my words. I decided not to tell him the story of my exchange with Cole, after all.
“Uneventful,” I lied.
