Restday, 2 Second Winter

2889 Tranquil Era

Malou and Gavriel met with Haddou after breakfast, then the professor ordered a town car to take them to Valois Manor. Haddou used the ride to help Malou recover a bit more from the Almuzayan tea while Gavriel told her about Zeynel’s visit, including what he’d relayed about the Libertines. If Haddou was surprised to hear there was a plan to assassinate the Crowned Consul, she didn’t show it.

An hour later, Malou’s name opened the front gate of the estate. As they drove through the formal garden, she flexed her fingers in her lap and rolled her shoulders. She hadn’t expected to be returning to the Valois Manor so soon, let alone without her mother’s shadow to hide within. She’d have to perform the part of a perfect patrician without guidance from Mother Dearest. What a daunting task.

The dreary grey sky made the Valois Manor’s colonnades look particularly cold and menacing today. Characteristic of the Imperial style favored by patrician families, the manor carried three stories, had a high-sloping gambrel roof punctured by dormer windows, and monumental stylized columns flanked each tall window. Truly, it was an unnecessary study in opulence and grandeur.

After the town car rounded the fountain in front of the manor and rolled to a stop, the same attendant from last week rushed from inside to open the back door. Although this time, they spared her a small smile when they mumbled their greeting. Once Gavriel and Haddou followed her inside, they found the entrance hall empty.

“This place hasn’t changed at all,” Gavriel muttered, his gaze roaming the overly ornate detailing of the paneled walls, domed ceiling, and oversized glass chandelier. “This’ll be fun. Should I steal something again to see if anyone notices?”

“You know they won’t,” Malou said, giving him a look all the same.

Haddou cackled. “These places never do change. Steal me a cigar.”

Hurried footsteps descending the grand staircase of the entrance hall signaled the arrival of the silver-haired Valois butler and her apprentice.

The butler straightened her uniform jacket before offering a full bow. “I apologize for leaving you waiting.” When she straightened, she wore a warm smile and amusement lit her eyes. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you back so soon, our dear Malou, and welcome to Valois Manor, Professor Anka Haddou and Gavriel Eng. We’ve prepared our Leonore’s private apartment for your stay, and our Amandine wanted me to pass along an invitation to brunch with the de Klijns. May we take your coats?”

“Of course,” Malou said as the butler moved to her side, easing her greatcoat from her shoulders in one fluid, practiced motion. She wore her mother’s portrait of proper formality like armor and returned the butler’s smile with a soft one of her own. As much as she wanted to ask about why the de Klijns were here, asking right now would be considered rude. “No apologies necessary. I should’ve called ahead.”

“What do you mean by brunch with the de Klijns—Senator de Klijn’s family?” Haddou asked, etiquette be damned, and Malou was grateful.

Expression impartial, the butler folded Malou’s coat over her arm then glided to Gavriel’s side to help him out of his coat as well. “Yes, Janna de Klijn and her grandmother Gawon Baek Hwari arrived yesterday ahead of tomorrow’s ceremony.”

When the red-faced apprentice butler reached for her coat, Haddou gave him a stern look that stilled his hands long enough for her to take it off herself. She shoved it at him. “All three of us? That seems like a mistake to me.”

“Our Laïla extended an invitation to all three of you and especially insisted on your attendance, Professor Haddou.” The butler handed both Malou and Gavriel’s coats to her apprentice to hang in the coatroom.

Haddou smirked. “I suppose I can go if Laïla insisted. Will there be alcohol at this brunch?”

“Our chef has prepared a traditional Drondaalian brunch as requested by the de Klijns,” she answered easily. That probably meant no alcohol, and Haddou didn’t seem too pleased. The butler gestured toward the east wing. “If you’d follow me, then, I’ll take you to our Leonore’s apartments.”

Gavriel raised an eyebrow in Malou’s direction, either wondering just as she was how Haddou knew her grandmother or what tomorrow’s ceremony entailed, but she didn’t have any answers. Amandine had accepted her father’s nomination to the College of Patriciates after his death, but she needed to be confirmed by Nuyere’s elected Provincial College before her appointment could begin. Sometimes, a senator from another district would support a senator-elect through the process in such circumstances, so perhaps this ceremony was part of that. Elodie would probably tell her the first chance she could.

The butler led them to the east wing past the stateroom, then down a long hall decorated with a gold-framed collection of paintings spanning thirteen centuries and three regions. While Gavriel and Haddou had a hushed conversation behind her, Malou chatted idly with the butler as her mother had, inquiring about the others who were currently in residence at the manor. Her granduncle was on bed rest following his brother’s death but doing well. Her other uncle and his partner were expecting a child soon, and the house staff was quite busy preparing for a new baby. Two of her cousins had been promoted in the Valois law firm, so very exciting.

Leonore’s name labeled the third set of double doors, which opened to a parlour that reminded Malou of her mother’s flat at Tousieux. False flames danced in the fireplace in front of an elegant sofa and two matching armchairs. In two corners, four wooden chairs surrounded a small round table. By the windows on either side of the doors leading to the back courtyard, two armchairs angled beside small side tables.

“Our Amandine and our Elodie had just arrived at brunch when I greeted you,” the butler said while her apprentice and the porter dropped off their luggage by the door, “but they understand that you’d need time to change. They would also be understanding should you decide not to join them. With that, how many attendants should I send?”

“Just one,” Haddou said, heading for the liquor cabinet. “I don’t need help dressing and this seems like a poor time to introduce Malou’s amouren to the family.”

So that was what Haddou and Gavriel had been talking about behind her back. Bringing Gavriel to brunch would definitely send a message about the level of commitment in their courtship, charade or not, and it'd probably bring attention they didn't need right now.

The butler glanced between Malou and Gavriel, then her expression brightened. “Ah, perhaps not. However, tomorrow’s ceremony should prove a rather suitable moment for a more subtle introduction than today’s brunch. I will let our Amandine know to expect you both, and I will send in an attendant for our Malou. Please feel free to give a ring should you need anything.” The Valois butler bowed one more, then closed the door behind her when she left.

While Haddou poured herself some bourbon, she asked, “Any idea why the de Klijns are here? Can't be for any good reason if Laïla insisted on my presence. The two of us, we don't quite see eye-to-eye on the whole manners and etiquette shit.”

“No,” Malou answered, sinking into the sofa with Gavriel, “but I imagine I’ll find out soon.”

Haddou gave a noncommittal grunt. “I don’t have a good feeling about it. Let’s just try to stay detached from whatever situation we just walked into, but we might want to enlist some discreet help in case we have to get out of here quick. Gavriel?”

“Easy enough,” he said.

“Thought so. I’m going to start getting ready.” Haddou raised her glass and chuckled, shaking her head as she headed to one of the two guest suites on either side of the parlour. “This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?”

Too soon after, a shy attendant with blonde hair twisted into a bun let herself in and Malou was made to go upstairs to her mother’s personal quarters to get ready. Although the attendant suggested a black ensemble for her to wear from her mother’s wardrobe, Malou chose shades of gray. Some loose shirt with long sleeves to pair with a pair of fitted leather breeches with intricately ribbed stitching that looked like armor and called out to her. Only a week had passed since her grandfather’s death, so it didn’t feel proper to wear something dark. Only the Crowned family mourned in black, after all.

After dressing, the attendant worked on Malou’s hair, weaving in silver and diamond ornaments and braiding a loose half-crown behind her head, then brushed a thin layer of makeup over her face. The entire time, Malou studied the attendant’s blue eyes, pale cheeks, and pursed lips. She looked familiar, but Malou struggled to place her even when she gave her name—Assa Rasch. Then, as Assa swiped a nude lipstick color over her lips, her mind flashed back to her mother’s new attendant back at Tousieux.

Back then, Malou hadn’t even noticed her mother’s attendant when she’d gone to find her mother in her room. She’d barely caught a glimpse of the attendant’s face when Mother Dearest had called for her, either, because she’d hurried in and rushed her greeting. The attendant had helped her wash up, get dressed, and do her makeup back then, too, but she’d been too distracted to pay her much attention. Then again, Assa hadn’t mentioned they’d met before, either, and she seemed to be trying hard not to be noticed. Malou would have to find time to talk to her.

Haddou was waiting in the parlour for her when the attendant finished. This time, she wore a white kaftan embroidered in gold and embellished with crystals. Assa showed them to the conservatory in the back gardens, where a table nestled within luscious tropical plants and fragrant flowers, then pardoned herself.

Elodie stood when she saw Malou and darted from her seat without hesitation. She wore light blue leather breeches under a short white wool dress. Malou hugged her tight, bending over a little to puzzle her cousin into her arms in just the right way. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to pull her gaze away from the two people wearing black beside Grandmother Laïla and Aunt Amandine.

“I was worried you would never visit us again after you left so early last Restday,” Elodie said, her smile bigger than Malou had seen yet. Her hair was braided into a full crown decorated with small cowrie shells and sapphire hairpins, and her edges were laid into soft waves.

Malou returned her smile. “Didn’t I promise to return soon? Look at you, though. What’re you looking so beautiful for?” She held Elodie’s head in her hands and kissed her forehead. More quietly, she added, “You never told me all your stories. About things. Of course, I had to return.”

Elodie’s eyes widened, and her smile fell. She quickly looked to the side, releasing her arms from around Malou to tug on her hands so she could hold them. Malou had expected her cousin’s face to heat with embarrassment but instead, Elodie forced a tight grin—something was very wrong. “That’s not so important anymore. Come, let me introduce you to Grandmother Hwari and Janna.”

Keeping hold of one of Malou’s hands, Elodie brought her closer to the long table of grayed wood that matched the stain of the conservatory’s framework. Carafes of orange juice gave color to a spread of whole wheat bread bundled in baskets, two charcuterie boards, a platter of stacked buckwheat pancakes dusted with powdered sugar, and a spiced rye cake glistening under a glass dome. It all looked delicious.

“How nice it is for you to join us, Malou.” Amandine stood to greet them. Looking every bit the senator she’d been named, she wore light gray trousers and a matching blazer. Her curly hair reminded Malou of her mother, braided on one side to accentuate her large diamond earrings, and so did the smile she gave Malou that didn’t reach her eyes. “Malou is my sister Leonore’s daughter. Beside her is Anka Haddou, who is a professor at Tousieux University. This is Janna de Klijn, the daughter of Senator Sander de Klijn, and her grandmother Gawon Baek Hwari.”

While Malou bowed, Haddou didn’t. She pointed to a chair at the head of the table across from Grandmother Laïla. “I’ll take this one.”

“At least you wore white,” Grandmother Laïla said before taking a sip of champagne. Apparently, there was alcohol. She didn’t stand like Amandine, and she wore white. She’d chosen a lace blouse that contrasted with her warm brown skin beneath a corseted waistcoat. “I expected less from you, Anka, so thank you at least for that.”

Professor Haddou sat and pulled out a cigar from a hidden pocket while Elodie had Malou sit beside her and Haddou. From another hidden pocket, Haddou produced a lighter. Magic—maybe. “Her spouse was a good man and it’s barely been a week. Besides, this is my best kaftan, so thank fuck you approve.”

While Grandmother Laïla released a soft laugh from across the table, no one else made a sound. Elodie, still holding one of Malou’s hands, concentrated on her plate of half-eaten bread and cake. Amandine shared a long look with Grandmother Hwari. Perhaps it was an apology for Haddou’s lack of manners or for the blatant criticism of the de Klijns’s decision to wear black despite being guests of the house. Of all the colors to choose.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” Grandmother Hwari said. She looked about as old as Grandmother Laïla—probably only a decade shy of a century. Except she had a full head of light silver hair twisted into a bun whereas Grandmother Laïla had gray streaks throughout her big curly hair. Addressing Aunt Amandine, she asked, “Did they come for the ceremony?”

“Yes, quite a pleasure,” Janna said, only sparing a glance at Malou and seeming to ignore Haddou entirely. She was probably a few years older than Malou, so she should know better manners than that. Haddou snickered under her breath and lit her cigar. “The ceremony will be so grand. How would anyone want to miss it?”

Janna de Klijn was quite beautiful with her black hair pulled back with jeweled hairpins, and she shared her grandmother’s epicanthic folds and straight eyebrows, as well as the same deep red lipstick. However, not only was her outfit black, but she also hadn’t shown an ounce of restraint in choosing an intricately beaded jacket in a Samouvean style paired with trousers with a subtle floral pattern.

Malou couldn’t find a reason for Grandmother Hwari or Janna to be wearing black—or for Janna to be at brunch in an ensemble better suited for an evening soirée—other than wanting to show some unashamed disrespect to the Valois family and the Crowned Consul. What other reason could there be?

“What ceremony?” Haddou asked after exhaling smoke in Janna and Hwari’s direction. “We came for the free room and board.”

“You’re just so delightful, Anka,” Grandmother Laïla said. Nothing in her tone had changed, but Malou could tell she didn’t mean that as a compliment. Though perhaps, at this moment, a part of her did, because her grin seemed genuine and it hadn’t left her face since Haddou had first opened her mouth. “Amandine, my dear daughter, why don’t you explain the ceremony to my long-time friend and your beautiful niece?”

Amandine squared her shoulders, then turned toward Malou stiffly. She put a hand around Elodie’s shoulder, and Elodie tightened her hold on Malou’s hand.

“I did send an invitation to you, but I suppose with Leonore’s disappearance, you may have missed it.” Amandine paused, pressing her lips together for a moment. Malou had always thought she looked just like Grandmother Laïla because they had the same full lips, rounded chin, gently arched brows, and a long dimple only on their right cheek. But her feigned cordiality contorted those features. “Tomorrow, we will be announcing Elodie’s engagement to Niels de Klijn, the son and heir of Senator Sander de Klijn.”

Entering into an engagement was the public version of the private courtship Malou was pretending to be in with Gavriel, and the engagements almost always ended in a law-binding commitment. Mostly only patrician families got engaged and lawfully committed, though her mother and her father had only courted privately and never bothered to commit by law.

Malou had expected Dorian to be engaged before Elodie. The average age for those entering courtships or engagements was early- to mid-twenties, and Elodie was still only thirteen. Sure, there was generally no expectation for a sexual relationship in political alliances like this; it was rather rare for those who exchanged this kind of commitment to have any romantic or sexual relationship.

However, Dorian was very much still an eligible bachelor. An incredibly eligible one considering his career, his upbringing, and his likelihood of becoming his mother’s heir. Rumors or no rumors, he was perfect on paper and sometimes he was even rather nice. Elodie, on the other hand, was still in secondary school. She was too young. Why had she been Amandine's decision for an engagement?

“We’re all very excited,” Amandine continued. “The plan is to move forward with their commitment, if both Niels and Elodie agree, by First Spring.”

That was only two months away.

“Cheers to that,” Janna said, raising her glass of champagne. “My father and Niels are both quite keen on a spring commitment ceremony. Wouldn’t it be just so beautiful? We could have it at our estate in Triedam. We can build a beautiful conservatory near the canal in our garden just like this, but better, of course. Only the best for sweet Elodie. But none of these tropical plants. We can have cherry blossom trees and jacaranda trees. Oh, and we must have roses and tulips and lilies. I just love snowdrops, too, so we must have those as well. It’ll be just wonderful, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Aunt Amandine said. She lifted her glass, and Malou remembered her on the balcony in the stateroom. She'd thought better of her aunt, but Amandine was a politician through and through, which must've been why her grandfather had chosen Amandine. Of course, a true politician would use her daughter for political gain if it suited her needs. “Let’s cheers to that.”

Malou needed to find out more about Niels de Klijn. She needed to know exactly to whom Elodie was getting engaged. What she knew about Senator de Klijn from the dossier Laure put together on him wasn’t at all comforting. She squeezed Elodie’s hand, but her younger cousin barely offered her more than a brief, defeated smile.

“Cheers to what?” Haddou said. “To an impractical conservatory? To spending the spring in Triedam of all places, let alone having a commitment ceremony? Or to forcing your–”

“Goodness!” Janna said. Her lips were upturned but a vein had lifted across her forehead from her eyebrow to her hairline. “Do you need a reason to celebrate, Professor? You shouldn’t live that way. That sounds awfully dismal. Everything should be a celebration. Life is a celebration, isn’t it?”

“Not when you’re this age,” Grandmother Laïla said. She finished her glass of champagne then put her hand on top of her mechanical Great Dane’s head. He nuzzled into her touch.

“It is never too late to learn,” Grandmother Hwari said, pausing when Haddou let out a snort, “and one is never too old to learn. To a young and enduring love for our Elodie and our Niels.”

Aunt Amandine and Janna drank to that while Malou followed Elodie’s example. A simple raise of her glass and quick sip of champagne. Malou held Elodie’s hand the rest of brunch and used Janna’s tendency to elaborate as cover to ask Laure to put together a dossier on Niels de Klijn, Janna de Klijn, and Gawon Baek Hwari and then read it to her. Compared to the accomplishments Malou would’ve seen on such a document for her family, the de Klijns had nothing important to note besides the senator’s political history and the death of his wife about a decade ago.

Most of all, though, Malou wanted to hear what Elodie thought of the situation. Perhaps she knew Niels already and had developed feelings for him. Maybe she had a deal with her mother that would allow her to dissolve their commitment easily. For all Malou knew, the engagement was only a political stunt and Elodie could be playing her part very well.

By the time Elodie dragged Malou to her bedroom for their usual sleepover, it was well nearly midnight and she fell asleep without giving Malou a chance to ask her a single question about the engagement. Or, rather, Malou had missed a handful of imperfect opportunities hoping for a perfect one that never presented itself. This left her with two options: either wait for the morning or seek more information elsewhere.

“Laure,” she whispered, “has Dorian left his room for the night yet?”

“No,” she answered. “The coast is clear as well since his apartment is only two doors down. Unless you want to try his bedroom door on the second floor where he’d hear you knock, but that seems unwise when you can use magic to get in. I can teach you if you need.”

“Just send him a message that I want to talk and I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Fine, have it your way.”

Malou slipped out of Elodie’s bed. This time, she didn’t need to be so secretive since she wasn’t leaving the estate for any reason. She didn’t need to wake Elodie, either, since she’d told her younger cousin she’d leave once the girl fell asleep to head back to her own room. No one would question her stopping to talk to her other cousin since everyone still thought they were close.

Dorian, to his credit, answered his door after a single, soft knock. He wore a dark red silk robe over a silk sleep set, and his dreads were tied together at the back of his neck. Offering no greeting or smile, he said, “Prompt as always, I see.”

“I endeavor never to surprise anyone,” she said and stepped into his one-bedroom apartment’s downstairs parlour when he gestured her inside. Rather than the off-white furniture her mother preferred, Dorian had black leather and dark wood. He was also exactly vain and self-important enough to mount a portrait of himself over his fireplace.

“It’s a surprise you’re here,” he said. After closing the door, he took a seat on his sofa where he had a bottle of wine and a glass half-full waiting for him. “Here in my apartment. Here at the manor at all. Did you finally decide to care about our family?”

Malou sat next to him and picked up his glass before he did. She noticed an open letter on the coffee table beside the bottle but didn’t want to be caught staring, so she only caught the name signed at the end: Teo. A friend? A lover? Then she took a long swallow and hoped it’d help her fall asleep when she returned to her mother’s apartment.

“Just because I don’t go to your fêtes doesn’t mean I don’t care about our family. It just means I don’t care for your fêtes.”

“Now is not the time for your lip,” he growled. “I assume you’ve heard of Elodie’s engagement to Niels?”

This time when she tipped back his wine glass, she finished it off and handed it back to him. As much as she wanted to tell him she wished he’d messaged her about the engagement as soon as he knew, she understood why he hadn’t, and he was right that this wasn’t the time. This wasn’t about them. This was about Elodie.

“Do you have any idea what’s motivating your mother to have her get engaged before you?” she asked as he refilled his glass and took an equally long swallow as her first.

“You have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

“How much more of your beauty sleep do you want to waste?”

He turned his gaze to hers. The dull light didn’t reach his hazel eyes, but she could make out a look of calm fury furrowing his brow and clenching his jaw. His hardened demeanor made her remember his reaction to the casual disrespect the senators had shown at Grandfather’s funeral, especially Senator de Klijn’s sham of a bow. Yet the Drondaalian senator had been the only one to attend Aunt Amandine’s inauguration.

Malou listed de Klijn as a suspect for her grandfather’s murder for the simple fact that he’d been the one to gain the most from her grandfather’s death, which made his attendance at the inauguration and his bow at the funeral both suspicious. Either he felt no guilt for having killed her grandfather, which was certainly possible if he was behind the poisoning, or he was well aware of the suspicion cast on him and using his presence to intimidate. Why would he use Elodie, though, for further political gain rather than Dorian?

“We are under attack,” Dorian said, and Malou realized why de Klijn had chosen his younger sister instead. Clearly, Dorian would never go along with de Klijn’s plan. He’d pretend, sure, but he’d be fighting from the shadows the entire time. Elodie was too young to put up a fight of any kind. “Our family is under attack. We are at war. They are playing a game in the parliament, and Grandfather tried his hand on the losing side. He was a daft man, and now he is a dead man who made our family vulnerable.”

“He’s been on the same side for thirty years. Why would that get him killed now?”

“Because for thirty years he supported a power-hungry man charming the working class into trusting every word he says without question. Even if Grandfather supported the Consul, he should have kept quiet about it.”

This sounded like the Libertines’ rhetoric. The government was broken, they said. The government was divided, they said. The Crowned Consul’s rising popularity with the working class, they said, was scaring his advisors and his parliament and his army. However, the Libertines supported the Consul and his reforms while it seemed Dorian did not, and they promised to dismantle the corrupt structures preventing him from enacting change—structures that were beginning to sound not far from the truth.

“It can’t be that simple,” she said, “and Grandfather was quiet. Everyone else was loud about him, just as you are right now. What if the power-hungry man isn’t the Consul but de Klijn? Rather than charming the working class into believing him, de Klijn could’ve been charming the parliament into trusting him over the Consul. Isn’t that what you’re accusing him of doing right now with Aunt Amandine?”

Dorian relaxed into the sofa and stared at the ceiling. He had a strong profile, and the light left a slice along his high cheekbones. “Perhaps. If I’m being generous in my assessment of the situation, de Klijn must've promised to help Mother find Grandfather’s murderer, and she is committing Elodie to his son in exchange for that help. If I’m not, then whatever he’s told her—rather a lie to get her cooperation or the truth to force it under threat—will end up killing every one of us to steal our seat—our birthright—and place a puppet on the parliament who will be on his side. They will not stop with Mother and Elodie. They’ll come for me as well. And for you.”

She didn’t want to, but she remembered the Sea Legions arriving on campus, breaking into the Room of Antiquities, shooting Aaro and nearly putting a bolt through Gavriel, and the three Legionnaires who’d murdered Brosch. Perhaps they already had come for her.

“You must not trust your mother much,” Malou whispered because she knew her voice would shake if she said it any louder.

“My mother is naïve and has lived too long in your mother’s shadow. Where has your mother gone, anyway? She sent an attendant here with a note that Mother burned before she let anyone else read it. She only told us Aunt Leonore said not to contact her and to expect you.”

So that was why mother's attendant was here. For all that Dorian had told her tonight, a part of Malou felt like she should reciprocate with a bit of honesty herself. But the one thing that had been made abundantly clear in their conversation was that Valois Manor wasn’t safe for the Teir. “I don’t know. She asked me to go with her, but I didn’t want to leave Tousieux since it’s my home. The last time I saw her was here.”

He offered her his wine glass. “Fuck her then.”

She couldn’t help her breathy chuckle, taking it from him and finishing his glass again. “So he still swears.”

“Regularly. Mother hates it. Elodie loves it.” He gave her a quick show of teeth, but then he returned his gaze to the ceiling. “She’s terrified. Niels is twice her age, and that’s not the worst of it from what I’ve heard. You must stay and help me protect her. I can’t be here all the time, and she’ll go along with anything Mother tells her. But she doesn’t want this. You can tell, too, can't you?”

The next breath Malou took trembled into her. From fear for Elodie or rage for her cousin’s situation, she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t stay if de Klijn was the one behind the order that sent the Sea Legions to Brosch and Tousieux in search of the Teir. Valois Manor was no safer than campus, and they needed to leave as soon as they could. But how was she to leave Elodie?