Blackthorn - 2. Laurestine

“So, how did it go?” Tara asked as soon as he stepped in the door.

Both the siblings lifted their head from the work they were absorbed in and looked at him as he entered the drawing room of their rented suit at the inn. Zhen had parchment strewn around him that mixed in with the foliage that he must have been drawing and some had trailed off the desk and laid on the floor. Tara sat at the large bay window sill that overlooked the cliffs and the River Sari beyond and had her swords and a thick volume laid out on the cushions beside her.

“Let me ask you a question,” he said as slid a finger under the ivory cravat. “You have met the Duke, haven’t you?”

“Yes…” Tara hemmed.

“How would you explain him?” He asked.

“It’s a funny question to ask after the interview, don’t you think?” She was mocking him, making Zhen laugh out loud.

“Stop laughing at me, Tara.”

She sobered in an instant as she recognized the frustration in his voice. Michael watched her as she stared out the large bay window, likely trying to choose her words. She had her dark hair in the severe day braid that she often favored. Her warm brown skin glowed in the afternoon light, her face bare unlike many nobles who loved to add a dash of color here and there to enhance their features. She looked back at him and shrugged, making her silent vigil feel rather anticlimactic.

“Well, he was always very well mannered. It was just that not many would approach him on their own. Honestly, he was always curt as much as he was well mannered, sort of, frosty.” She said.

Michael dropped on to an armchair next to Tara and picked on the links on his cuff to avoid divulging to her straight away. Tara, just like always, knew not to push him before he gathered his thought and remained quiet, letting him sort his thoughts. Zhen, who lacked his sister’s ability to read a room, launched into a story.

“You should have seen him at the debut of the Rowley siblings.”

Zhen was talking about the children of the Earl of Rowley, one of the oldest gentry in the Kingdom. Michael had seen the twins a while ago when he was in the Imperial Academy - a girl and boy who looked divine with large honey eyes and ebony skin that boasted of their nobler birth, a vision that stirred envy in many. If he remembered correctly, they were as arrogant as a pair of magpies.

Michael raised an eyebrow at his friend.

“Those kids were all over him, and I understand, he is the most eligible bachelor in the entire continent. But they were simply trying to hang off of his jacket. There was a lot of skin in the poor Duke’s face thanks to the lovely low cut in both their jackets. The girl was simply indecent with her breasts almost falling off her neckline. I’m sure the boy deliberately popped a couple of buttons off his shirt, for what reason Haloa knows, because the damned thing was already see-through. The mother of course was ecstatic that the Duke didn’t shrug them off as soon as they latched. Pity it didn’t work for long though. I’m sure the sun hadn’t gone down before the Duke slipped out and disappeared for the night.” He laughed.

“And, how is that polite?”

Michael often could not figure out the process of how Zhen’s reasoning worked. To make matters worse, Zhen often paused when he spoke and forgot what he had been on about if no one prompted.

“He didn’t make any sort of a scene, while even the King looked ready to punch the obnoxious idiots. It was embarrassing to watch. If only because I know that their parents were one of the families that made a lot of noise about the Duke’s birth when he was appointed the Imperial Commander.”

Michael rolled his eyes.

Some of the Dyausan nobility were extremely snobbish when it came to one’s birth. He remembered hearing about the outrage at the appointment of the Imperial Commander from his father for he had been one of those snobbish lot and had been personally insulted at the appointment. The objections occasionally ebbed but were largely forgotten now.

“The Duke was quite condescending today. I’m not sure I can work for someone who so blatantly looks down upon me for being of lesser birth. I’m not going to accept the position. I think I’d go back to Taurus.” He said.

Tara lifted her eyes from the dagger she was sharpening while Zhen complained about Michael’s idiocy quite loudly and shushed her brother.

“Michael, it’s entirely your decision. You should never compromise your contentment for anything; least of all a job. If you think accepting this position could be something you regret, don’t do it. I know the Taurun royal household will welcome you with open arms and you definitely were happy there.”

Tara, always the voice of sanity.

“Don’t listen to Tara. This is the most coveted position in the royal court now. You can’t be willing to throw that away.” Zhen said.

“Well, also I slept with the Duke on the Moon’s Day.” Michael admitted.

That stopped the methodical movement of Tara’s sharpening stone and dropped Zhen’s mouth open.

“I don’t know how to respond to that piece of information.” Said Tara.

“Did you know?” Zhen asked.

“That he was the Duke of Nothernlands?”

“No, that it was the Goddess of Moon.”

“Not before today.”

“Damn.”

“The question is, did he know you? Did he know that you were the person who applied for Stewardship of Nothernlands? We were with Elena and he knows our faces. It sounds odd to me that he wouldn’t know who you were. Start from the beginning and tell me everything.” Tara said.

He regaled the events that went down in the evening amidst expletives and commentary from Zhen and stony calculating silence from Tara.

∞

Michael straightened the boutonniere of Goldenrod on his lapel as he hurried after Elena.

Elena had wanted Michael to join her sister and the Queen for tea and when he had asked for a reason she had shrugged and said, “Just because.” She had practically dragged him out of the suit that he shared with Zhen and Tara barely after the sun had come out. Zhen had still been asleep and Tara had looked too alert despite the hour, however had smiled fondly at Elena and gone back to her room.

Michael would have preferred to sleep in and not face the day yet, even his decision to not join the Nothernlands but Elena had to have her way.

They walked through the capacious corridors of the palace at a brisk pace. The palace was a monolithic museum that embodied centuries worth history within its granite walls. The halls were lined with tapestries that depicted scenes of the four realms of Dyaus; the Snow Mountains of the north, fields of the south, orchards of the west and crystalline lakes of the east.

It was highly fashionable for other nobles to buy painted replicas of these and hang them in their halls, which was what his great-grandparents had done when they were offered the Barony of Helwar. His room back home had a tapestry of the Cephissian Mountains, a cluster of three mountains that were the tallest of the Snow Mountains.

The corridors, as they moved along, held centuries worth of portraits of royals and art displayed at their full glory. Some of them were from other kingdoms, gifted to the royal palace and he spotted a few that seemed to be done by the hands of children, tokens from the public.

They moved through the palace briskly; people stepped out of the way and respectively nodded at Elena and the ones who recognized Michael nodded at both.

He had an inkling as to what Elena was trying to do while desperately trying to be nonchalant about it. After numerous corridors and passages they stood in front of wooden doors that were opened by guards the sight of Elena.

“Hello, girls.” Elena called out cheerily to the women as he walked through the doors.

They had entered one of the numerous gardens that were within the palace. Both the royals turned towards Elena’s voice and looked skeptical at the sight of Michael. Elena bent to kiss her sister and the Queen on the cheek.

“Ladies, this is my friend, Michael Helvig.” Elena said.

Michael bowed to the women.

“I presume congratulations are in order, Master Helvig. Welcome to Northernlands.” The Duchess said.

Michael hesitated before answering.

“I am very honored by the Duke bestowing me with such great responsibility, your Grace. I am simply torn between choosing this coveted position with his Grace and choosing my uncle’s request to join him and fulfilling family duty.” He replied, hoping he was diplomatic enough.

“Oh, we weren’t aware of another offer. Are you talking about your mother’s family from Varat, my Lord?” The Duchess asked.

Michael dashed look at the Queen before answering. The Queen had a murderous look in her eyes, not unlike her brother’s.

“Yes, your Grace. My uncle has been boasting of having his nephew with royal training join him in his trading ever since I joined the Academy. My family and I were entertaining the idea of joining my uncle before the offer from the Northernlands came along.” Mama said.

He was not deliberately lying; only stretching the truth a bit to placate the royals and make sure he was not backed into a corner that he did not want to be. His uncle did want him to come to Varat, it was simply that Michael had not been entertaining the idea of joining him until after the meeting with the Duke.

The Queen’s silence churned like an eye of the storm that was brewing around them.

“Helena, what did my brother do?”

The Queen asked the Duchess in a honeyed tone.

“Oh, nothing much,” the Duchess replied in a similar fashion. “He had been his charming self instead of his boring self, according to Ruslan.” The Duchess shrugged.

“He was an ass to Michael. That’s what he did.” Elena fumed.

The Queen closed her eyes and rubbed her temples before she spoke.

“Master Helvig, I appreciate the tact you used to not offend Helena or me. However, I must say that I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had refused to join my brother’s household straight away if what I hear is the truth. And I believe it. It doesn’t bode well for any relationship to start on footing where one party is disrespectful; least of all a work relation.”

He was not sure how the Queen deduced from the brief interaction with Duchess Helena that the Duke was disrespectful. Then again, they were twins, so she must have a lifetime of knowledge on her sibling.

“You should have said no to Iain’s face.” The Duchess suggested.

“If I may be so bold, your Grace; I don’t think I would ever dare to cross someone – least of all the Imperial Commander – when he is already agitated by Turkans.”

Michael admitted as he tried to lighten the atmosphere.

“See, this is the problem with everybody. They don’t stand up to Iain enough. This is all Adhyant’s fault for making him the Imperial Commander and the Duke of Nothernlands. He thinks he is above everybody...” Elena ranted.

His hunch had been right. Elena had wanted to deal with the issue of Michael’s employment at the heart of it. However, he thought that Elena truly lacked the tact needed to deal with the matter because obviously it pained the Queen to have to deal with her brother’s eccentricities. The Duchess quickly held a hand up, cutting Elena’s rant short.

“Hold on, Elena. Master Helvig, what did you mean by that he was already agitated by Turkans?”

Perhaps he was not any better at tact than Elena was.

“Um, his Grace had maps of Turka laid out on his desks and some parchments that were written in Turkan. A lesson I learnt at the Tauran court was that nothing could put a court in a terrible mood than Turka.”

His attempt at levity fell short at the intensity of the royal’s gaze.

“Do you know Turkan?” The Queen asked.

“I learnt some from an immigrant that worked at the Tauran court, your Majesty.”

“Any other languages you are able to speak?”

“I’m fluent in all the dialects of Dyausan, your Majesty. I’m also fluent in Varati, since it’s my mother’s tongue and Tauran given my long years there.”

The queen nodded thoughtfully.

“He is also fluent in Tlemecenean, Irene.” Elena supplied.

The Duchess leaned in and rested her elbow on the table, and her intrigued gaze unnerved Michael.

“What prompted you to learn Tlemecenean, my Lord?” She asked.

“For some reason, my mother always told me that one needed to know what the Tlemecenean in the room said. I later thought it was a little xenophobic of my mother and very much out of her character, but it has served me well, your Grace.”

“I can’t disagree with that statement.” The Duchess said.

“Oh, by the way, Iain slept with Michael a few days before the meeting. Michael had never seen Iain before and, of course, didn’t have any way to recognize Iain with the way he looked like a wild Farlander the past week.”

The Queen spat out the sip of tea she had just taken and the already raised brow of the Duchess almost touched her hairline.

“Elena,” Michael hissed at her.

“Hadn’t I heard that you were as promiscuous as my sister, I would have thought that you were targeting the Duke.” The Duchess said, her voice as frosty as the Cephissian snowcaps.

Michael knew that this was not the well behaved noblewoman he faced any more, but the warrior that took arms alongside the Imperial Commander and the Crown Princess Adhyant and nothing he said would work in his favor; however the silence would not work either.

“Well, how could Ian not make the connection and recognize Michael, Helena? That’s suspicious if you ask me. Michael was with me and the Liangs.”

The Duchess and the Queen looked at each other. Michael wanted to weigh his opinion before they drew all the wrong conclusions.

“It would only be hearsay at the moment, however I definitely did not recognize the Duke that night. Also, I am egoistic enough to believe that my skills would be sufficient without having to weasel my way into his Grace’s bed, your Grace. I mean no offence to you or her Majesty.” He said.

The Queen laughed.

“You are a fine match for the Northernlands, Master Helvig. If you can look beyond the unfavorable behavior from my brother and if you aren’t uncomfortable with the mess you both got yourselves in, you are still very much welcome at the job. And, I will deal with my brother.” She said, the command ringing in her voice. “Let us get back to the more delightful topics and simply enjoy the fine weather and company.”

“See, Iain did this on purpose, didn’t he?” Elena asked.

Michael sometimes could not understand the antagonism Elena displayed towards the Duke. It was obvious as angry and exasperated they were, neither royal seemed to have the need to declare the Duke ill-willed quite like Elena did. Michael wondered if this was nothing to do with him for the first time since he has known Elena.

From the way the Queen looked resigned and the Duchess seemed frustrated it was clear that this villainizing was nothing new.

“Iain didn’t recognize Master Helvig because he didn’t deal with the recruitment process at all, Elena. It was Ashwat who chose the candidates and passed them through. Iain wasn’t even in the country during the process.” The Duchess said.

“Oh!”

It was comical how Elena deflated and went on to pick on a cookie as the Queen turned to Michael and inquired about the Tauran court.

∞

At the end of the day he wrote to the Imperial Commander’s Secretary, Master Bernard, to inform him that- indeed – he was delighted to join the Northernlands household as the Chief Steward.

The next day Master Bernard had sent a carriage and a footman with a note that told Michael to use it at his discretion for his move to Boreas Residence.

Then, madness descended.

Valets and footmen from Boreas swarmed his chambers at the inn and packed his things while the Butler to the Duke, Stevens, arranged his other belongings to be fetched from his parents Manor. The day after, Zhen accompanied him to Boreas to share his opinion on arrangements in his chambers.

“I want to weep and write a poem at the same time.”

Zhen mumbled as they were shown through the vast marble entrance halls.

His week after that was meeting after meeting as he did his best to catch up with the previous Steward’s work, who had left to get married to a Farlander at the drop of a hat. She had been much disorganized and had left a trail of messy accounts behind. The scribes and secretaries were relieved when he told them they had to untangle everything as best they could before they touched any other official tasks. Newly employed Steward’s Secretaries, Joan and Francis, quickly took to the mess releasing him to deal with less crucial decisions of upholstery fabrics and such.

“I’ve heard of your mother’s famous gardens my lord. I’m sure you’d adore this lovely little heaven.”

The Butler, Stevens told him as he was shown around, pointing to the garden beyond his office windows. Little did Stevens know that not having no garden would have irritated him much less. While the scribes and secretaries were sorting out the mess inside, he donned a set of work clothes and stepped into the garden.

Rich violet malevolence of lobelia dripped crudely into the hostile and regretful yellow of tansy and rue below them at one wall and the other stood grey and desolate over mismatched patches of frigid hydrangea. Hopeless red streaks of love-lies-bleeding fell gruesomely into the abandoned pond at a corner. Which brainless gardener put this garden together?

The week passed with the chaos around him unraveling and falling into place.

“It’s unfair how things work out smoothly for you unless you mess them up on purpose.”

Zhen complained on Moonday evening as they sat in Michael’s new drawing room.

“What do you mean?” Elena asked.

“Michael is usually very lucky. If he wants something he always gets it.”

“It’s also called perseverance, I’m sure.”

Elena told Zhen and reached for another cookie.

“Well, perseverance only gets you so far. How do you justify a garden taking in the winter? You saw it! It’s alive, Elena! In the winter!” Zhen said.

“I don’t know why you seem so upset over a garden, Zhen. You know I’ve always had a green thumb, even when I was a child. Besides, this garden was just planted. Nothing died yet.”

“I’ll prove my theory someday.” Zhen vowed.

“Is everything in place now?” Elena asked.

“Almost. There are certain gaps that were probably left behind by how careless that woman must have been. I’ve never seen a Steward being so disorganized.”

“She came with the Duchy from what I’ve heard. Someone my uncle had placed when he was planning to give this Duchy to Adhrit.”

Elena’s uncle, the late King had planned to hand the duchy of Northenlands to Prince Adhrit before Princess Adhyant’s unfortunate demise. Southernlands was to be given to the youngest, Prince Ashwat. When Princess Adhyant was killed at an expedition, the King had fallen ill soon after, of a broken heart from what people had whispered. They hadn’t been far off according to Elena who had watched her uncle neglect his health and life until he fell ill and refuse treatment for he had not seen purpose of life.

Prince Adhrit had stepped up valiantly despite the heart ache it must have caused him to have lost his beloved sister and father in the span of six months. Dyaus and her people had watched the young King’s family rally around him and the young nobles set their own truths and traditions in place. The people had fallen in love with the capacity to love they displayed.

Dyaus was the best she had ever been.

“What kind of person just leaves their responsibilities like that? I understand that she could have been in love, but that doesn’t mean she had to run off to Farlands with her lover even before her shoes were filled.”

“Right,” Elena agreed with Zhen. “Honestly, I often felt that she didn’t work hard enough. She was hardly ever passionate about anything. Every task seemed to be something for her to tick off her to-do list.”

“Maybe the Duke’s sunny disposition made her that way after she joined.” Zhen suggested.

“I promise you that I had nothing to do with the way my previous Steward was, Master Liang. Had I had a hand in how she was, she would have been an exemplary employee.” The Duke’s voice rose from the doorway.

All three of them froze before Michael and Zhen rose from their seats as Elena rolled her eyes and settled into her chair.

“I… I meant no offence, your Grace.” Zhen said.

“And, I took no offence, Master Liang.” The Duke said as he walked in.

He stopped at Elena’s chair and bent to kiss her proffered cheek before his eyes briefly swept the room.

“I’m surprised your sister hasn’t joined you, Master Liang. From what I believe, she returned from her assignment last night.”

Elena straightened at the Duke’s words while Zhen merely shrugged.

“My sister is a paradox, my lord. She is so poised at times yet wild at the others. She comes and goes as she’s pleased. There’s no rhyme and reason.”

“That’s what makes her an excellent Master of Swords. You must forgive me for not lingering, but I came to see if I could borrow Master Helvig for a short while to discuss a few matters.” The Duke said.

“It’s the Moonday, Iain. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid not, Elena.”

The Duke’s tone brooked no argument.

“It’s alright, Elena. I’m sure neither of you are planning to leave yet.” Michael turned to the Duke. “How may I help you, your Grace?”

“Come with me, Master Helvig.” He nodded in a parting gesture to Elena and Zhen and walked out and Michael trailed after him.

They walked down the winding stairs that took them from the floor above that held Michael’s private quarters to the ground level that hosted his offices and the guest suit. The Duke walked to his office and waited for him to move ahead and enter the office. Michael brushed past the man, the warmth of his chest burning into Michael’s arm where they touched. The rich and cloying scent of blackthorns hit him hard as he tried to breath in a steadying breath and made him sway for a moment. The dizzying effect took him by surprise and he almost missed the steadying hand at the small of his back.

Neither of them acknowledged the odd interaction as they moved into the office and as the duke took the armchair opposite of Michael’s desk. Michael waited until he was seated and sank into his own, thankful for the support.

Michael reached into a drawer and pulled out an itinerary he had put together to discuss later during the upcoming week.

“I put together an itinerary to visit the major sites of income, sometime in the next month, my lord.”

He slid the parchments over to the Duke.

“This is a rather elaborate itinerary, Master Helvig. Are you sure this is an achievable task?” The Duke asked with his eyebrow almost touching the hairline once he went through the papers.

“I didn’t want to waste any time while I’m there, your Grace. It seemed prudent for me to cover the most important of the business while I was in Northernlands.” He replied.

“Hmm. Well, don’t the Stewards usually have any time to frolic around?” Michael wished the Duke meant that as an innuendo. “However, there are a few things I want you to look into. Take extra time if needed.” The Duke waited until Michael gave an acknowledging nod. “I want you to speak to the clerical staff from the mines. Check the accounts of foreign workers. Which countries they come from and where their money goes.”

“Should I be discreet with the staff, my Lord? Any indiscretions caused by any of them that I should be aware of?” Michael asked.

“No, no. The staff isn’t stealing, as far as I know, if that’s what you meant. I hope it never happens either. Just check those records and see if any anomalies have occurred. I can’t tell you what to look for since I don’t know what it would be. There are rumors of an indiscretion that occurs with foreign workers. I want it to be put to rest. That’s all.”

Michael nodded once again. The Duked looked at the papers again and Michael could not keep his eyes from tracing the Duke’s features, lust stirring like molten rock beneath his skin, slow and steady.

“Wouldn’t you be taking any time to visit your mother’s family?” The Duke asked, still poring over the itinerary.

“My mother, your Grace? She is from Varat, not Northernlands.” He replied.

The Duke stared at Michael, confused, for a few moments before he shook his head.

“Forgive me for my confusion. It’s been a long day, I suppose.” The Duke replied.

“Is there anything I can do for you, your Grace?” Michael asked out of politeness.

“No, not really. Anyway, you have my leave to do any staffing changes as you see needed. So far as I know, the work is done without a hitch. Nevertheless, I’ve never had time to spend over my estate as much as it obviously needed. See if the port in Sari needs any work done on it. There have only been occasional repairs but no one bothered to give it any makeovers in a few years.”

“I’m sure it isn’t that bad, my Lord. However, I saw in a journal a few months back about this advanced machine used for dry-docking. If I’m not mistaken, only one other port in Tlemecene uses this mechanism. Perhaps, would you want to install one at Sari?” Michael asked.

“Yes, speak to the engineers in charge and discuss it with them. I don’t wish to patronize your time tonight. We will have enough time to discuss this later on. I had one other task for tonight.”

The Duke pulled a small square box out of his breast pocket and slid it over the glossy desktop to Michael.

“I’ve been told that the mess around your recruitment was poorly handled on my part. I thought perhaps a small token could make reparations.” The Duke rose from his chair. “I hope we can put the differences aside and move forward, Master Helvig.”

The Duke nodded at him and wished him a good night before striding out of the office with his non-apology hanging in the air.

Michael reached out and pulled the velvet covered box and pulled the lid open to reveal a precious white metal necklace laid with a row of sapphire that gleamed like flame in lamplight.