Florette V: The Negotiator

“Your little ruse is over,” the guard told Fernan, his cronies spreading out around him.

Fuck. This was her fault, all to save a few florins at the gate.

Fernan wasn’t even looking at her, the fire in his eyes dimmed down to a tiny green point.

What was the punishment for impersonating a noble, actually? No matter how bad it was, surely they wouldn’t do anything on the spot. Even capital crimes always had a night in jail first, at least in the stories. It couldn’t be good, but if Florette could slip away, she might be able to break him out later.

Eloise might even be willing to help, if she played things right. The quartermaster hadn’t exactly been thrilled when Florette had asked her to delay the theft earlier this morning, correctly noticing her lack of enthusiasm for the request, but she hadn’t gotten angry either. That had to count for something.

Fernan looked so helpless though. Was it right to run away, when all of this was her fault, even if it helped him more later? There had to be something else she could do.

With Mara, they might have a chance at taking the guards, but that would do little to solve the underlying problem.

“Ruse?” Florette stepped out in between Fernan and the guards. “Before we go anywhere, I must insist that you clarify.”

Fernan blinked incredulously, but he kept silent.

The front guard nodded. “The peasants’ disguises you wear. Lady Annette informed us that you were traveling incognito, but that Lord Fernan could be identified by his fiery eyes, from his spirit contract.”

“Of course.” Yes! Nevermind, all of that then. “I’m afraid Lord Fernan is rather too busy at the moment, however. He would be happy to meet with your lady at a later time of her convenience.”

“Yes.” Fernan coughed. “Very busy. Such a shame it is.”

The guard shook his head. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Our patron was quite insistent that you meet with Lady Camille immediately. This is an important matter of state that must be discussed.”

Florette raised her eyebrows. Lady Camille? Wasn’t that the one Eloise had mentioned this morning, with the command over water? “Really? If you were a bit more forthcoming, it would be easier to justify suspending my lord’s important business.” Upon seeing the guard’s frown, she added, “If you would allow us a minute to confer in private?”

“Don’t take too long. My lady Debray expects you presently.”

“Of course.” Florette wrapped her arm around Fernan and pulled him into a huddle a short distance away from the guards. “So, what do you think?” she whispered.

“What do I think? What kind of question is that?” Fernan hissed. “You promised to ask me before doing stuff like this.”

“What do you think I’m doing right now? It’s up to you.”

“Oh.” His head sagged back. “Soleil, what a mess. Jerome made this sound so easy, but the Sun Priest is an arrogant jerk, Magnifico wouldn’t do more than set up the meeting, and most of their sundials fell in the harbor––”

“Perfect!” Florette interrupted.

Fernan’s eyebrows shot up. “How could that possibly be?”

Florette patted him on the back. “That lady who wants to see you is a water sage, or something like that. Eloise said she hid an entire boat underwater when I asked if I could see it. She could probably get them without you having to bother working your ass off for Lord Luminary.”

“Lord Lumière,” Fernan corrected. “And there’s no guarantee this other noble will give us what we want. It could all collapse in an instant.”

“Sure.” Florette shrugged. “The way I see it, we have two options here: take this opportunity to run, or go along and try to make the most of it. I can do most of the talking there, and we might be able to get what you need.” She paused. “I know you said you had a way, but this could get it much faster. What do we lose by hearing them out?”

“Potentially everything.” He sighed. “Working for the temple is far less risky than this. Although, running away could still jeopardize that…” He trailed off, looking back over his shoulder at the guards.

“So?”

“I think they wanted me to burn people, Florette. That’s what it sounded like, anyway. Just like Jerome might sacrifice a goat. Even the thought of it is horrifying.” He took a deep breath. “If there’s a way to avoid that, I think it’s worth taking the chance. Lord Lumière already knows who I am, but he’d probably forget about me pretty quickly. He already did it a few times, in the space of one conversation.”

“Good.” Florette grinned, clasping her hands together. “Then we’re agreed?”

“You do the talking. I hate all of this lying.” He was bad at it too, his forehead already slick with sweat. “Mara, could you follow us at a distance? Try to help if it looks like things are getting chaotic?”

The lizard nodded its head, scurrying away before any of the guards could react.

Florette nodded, turning back to wave at the guards. “Lord Fernan is honored by Lady Camille’s request, and would be delighted to see her immediately. My apologies for any delay.”

“Just make sure to tell her that you insisted on it.” The guard signalled to his underlings, prompting them to circle around Fernan in formation. “Lady Annette doesn’t take kindly to impunctuality.”

After all of that, it was almost comical how short the distance they needed to travel was. It was the same tower next to the rocks Eloise had so nimbly climbed, back when the future had seemed so full of promise…

They arrived within twenty minutes, then were led up the stairs to the uppermost floor. Apparently the Bureau of the Sea had harborside offices in the tower, with a window showing the same spectacular view of the water.

Florette was still staring at that when the noble walked in.

She looked more like an illustration than a real person. Her hair was blue, somehow, falling down over gleaming bare shoulders, framed by a sea-green cape falling behind her. With the light streaming in through the window onto her unnaturally perfect form, she seemed nearly as transparent as the glass.

The other who followed her in seemed far more real, shorter in stature and fuller in figure, with her brown hair tousled and knotted in contrast to the other’s straight and neat style. She was the first to sit down at the table in front of them, the beauty following her.

“You must be wondering why I wanted to see you,” the blue-haired lady began. “Please allow me to explain.”

“Before we begin, would you be so kind as to introduce yourselves?” Florette rested her elbows on the table to support her head. “My Lord has not yet had the privilege of meeting you.”

The shorter lady blinked rapidly, her head tilting down before abruptly being jerked back up. “I’m sure he must feel like he knows us already after Laura’s glowing remarks. She and Camille are the best of friends, ever since childhood.”

Laura, Laura, Laura… That was the cousin! The one coming through the south gate that the guards had––or rather hadn’t––expected. If they really knew each other, this could be far more difficult, but something in Lady Debray’s wry tone implied that there was more to it than that.

Florette perked her head up. “Nonetheless, I believe that decorum dictates introductions to be in order.” It probably did, anyway.

The painting-come-to-life then clicked her tongue. “I suppose so. My companion is Lady Annette Debray, heir to Guerron and Head of the Bureau of the Sea. You’ll have to forgive her for any impropriety.” She shot a glare at her partner with the last word. “She is rather exhausted by all of the preparation for the Festival, and the accompanying tournament.”

“Oh the tournament, of course!” Florette pounded the table with the palm of her hand. “My lord and I are most excited for it.”

“Is that so?” The elegant lady turned her eyes to the ceiling for an instant, before a glowing smile stretched across her face. “I can look forward to seeing you in the lists, then.” A pause filled the air for a moment, until she jabbed Annette with her elbow.

“Right.” Lady Debray rolled her eyes. “And this is Camille Leclaire, Lady of Onès. High Priestess of Levian, and so much more that belaboring it would be tiresome. You already know her, I’m sure.” She turned to face Camille. “My people brought them here. Do you need me for any more of this?”

Lady Camille shook her head. “I think I have it well in hand. Thank you, Annette.”

“Good.” She stood up. “I’ll be in my office, then. Have to deal with this whole Verrou situation.” She left swiftly, shutting the door noisily behind her.

“Verrou?” Fernan asked, probably to avoid being completely silent. That would help, Florette agreed. “That wouldn’t be Robin Verrou, would it? I believe I’ve read about him.” His face was still sweaty, but that was still the best delivery he’d managed so far.

“Indeed.” Lady Camille bit her lip, a gesture almost out of step with her inhuman presentation. “Apparently he wishes to compete in the tournament himself, but that risks angering some of our guests whom we would just as soon leave unaware of his presence at all.”

“Magnifico!” Fernan blurted. “Uh… I mean––”

“We’ve met him already, as it happens.” Florette jumped in before he could accidentally demonstrate any further how uncomfortable he was. “A delightful night at the Singer’s Lounge. And certainly we understand why Lady Annette would rather he be left unaware of Robin Verrou.” Ooh, that was a thought, actually. “Don’t worry. We won’t tell him unless we have good cause to. I’m sure that won’t be an issue.”

That was more leverage, putting them in a better position to get Fernan his sundial. Florette held her hand in front of her face to cover her smile at playing that so well.

“That is good to hear.” Lady Camille smiled again, clasping her hands together. She didn’t say anything after that, leaving an uncomfortable moment until Florette realized that she was waiting for them to introduce themselves as well.

“My Lord is Fernan, of House Bougitte, sage of…” Shit. Probably not Gézarde, but what was the right spirit? “…flame,” she finished. That was technically true, so it would probably be fine. “Cousin of Laura Bougitte, with whom you have already acquainted yourself so well. And I am his humble servant Celine.” Using the same fake name she’d used to steal the brandy would probably be a poor idea, and dropping her real name felt stupid as well.

Fernan shot her another look at that, which she returned with an insistent raise of her eyebrows before realizing that he wouldn’t be able to read the expression. Instead, she drummed the table again. “My lord is too polite to ask you right out, but I’m sure he wishes to know why you called him here so insistently.”

“Of course. You have my gratitude for your patience.” Lady Camille steepled her fingers. “Especially considering everything that happened with Laura and myself.”

“It’s no trouble,” Florette quickly responded, before Fernan could open his mouth to give anything away. This was a precarious situation, and Florette was the best equipped to deal with it.

The lady raised an eyebrow. “That’s magnanimous of you.”

“In truth, my lord Fernan and his cousin are not exceptionally close. They do not often speak beyond what their familiar bond demands.”

“Is that so?”

Fernan nodded stiffly. “Don’t… don’t worry about dealing with me on her account. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Precisely,” Florette added.

Lady Camille smiled. “I am pleased to hear it. In that spirit, perhaps we should discuss this over lunch?”

“It would be our pleasure!” Noble food? This lie was paying off more and more every moment.

With a piercing crack, Lady Camille snapped her fingers, prompting an older man in a vest to open the door and bow his head. “Have Annette’s cook prepare something for the three of us, if you would.” The servant nodded, then closed the door behind him. “It shall not be long,” the lady added. “In the meantime, I would love to hear more about Torpierre Hall. I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting it myself.”

Torpierre… Florette wracked her brain for any description of it in her books. It was one of those castles on the Lake of Paix, she knew, since the chain stretching out from it had blockaded the path to the ocean during the Plagetine War, some two hundred years ago. That meant it was a big tower, but it wasn’t as if she really knew anything else about it.

“It’s a beautiful place,” she said, since anyone would say that of their home. “I’m sure everyone there would be delighted if you were to visit.”

“Hmm. Perhaps when things have calmed down more here.” Her eyes were fixed on Fernan, boring into him. That could be very bad.

“What of your home, Onès? We would love to hear about that.”

Lady Camille scowled mightily, biting her lip as she did. “I have not seen it in many years, not since the War of the Foxtrap left it in Avalon’s clutches.”

“I’m sure its people cry out for their freedom,” Florette said in sympathy, reaching out to place her hand on Lady Camille’s.

“And their rightful ruler,” Fernan added.

Pulling her hand back, the lady raised an eyebrow. “Many have said such things. Few back their words with action.”

“Cowards,” Florette agreed. “It’s despicable.”

“It’s peace!” Fernan interjected, turning his head back and forth between them. “Surely that’s worth something? I’ve heard what Avalon did to Malin: leveling the walls, destroying most of the palace with those thunderous contraptions that can tear through stone.” He had heard that from Florette, actually, but the point she had been making when bringing it up had been quite the opposite of what he was implying now. Great evil demanded great action, not cowering in fear of it.

Lady Camille sighed. “Certainly, the last thing I would want is a failed retaliation. We ought not to strike until we are certain we can reclaim what has been lost. I hope we can count on your support when the moment arrives.”

“I don’t––”

“Of course.” Florette cut Fernan off. Even if he didn’t want war, they lost nothing by looking more supportive here. It had been seventeen years; it wasn’t like they’d have to jump in with anything before this whole con was over anyway. “Provided that our needs are attended to in turn.”

“I would expect nothing less.” Lady Camille sat back in her chair, removing her arms from the table. “I believe our food is arriving now. Freshly caught this morning, of course.”

“Oh, I love fish.” Fernan smiled as Florette nodded in agreement. They were only readily available during spring, after the snowmelt but before the streams ran dry, and autumn, when they began to flow thick enough again. But that still made the meat far more plentiful than goat, which would only be slaughtered occasionally, and far richer than the asparagus, mushrooms, and strawberries that could be grown on their terraced farms.

Lady Camille smirked. “I think you’ll be pleased with this, then. Though I imagine it will be new to you.” As she finished, the same servant from before entered with three massive platters balanced on his arms.

He set them down on the table along with a few knives, some of them strangely shaped. Then he removed the lids to reveal food that looked nothing like the fish Florette knew. The first dish had hard shells, half open and beige, while the second contained white rings dusted with something brown.

“Coulée oysters and spiced calamari,” the servant supplied with a dip of his head before exiting the room.

“I think you will find them quite pleasing,” Lady Camille added. “Please, help yourselves, and I shall begin explaining the business I wish to discuss with you.”

“Mhmm.” Florette grabbed one of the larger shells and sucked out the substance inside, a cold, wet, and salty trickle of flavor, with a sharp tinge she couldn’t identify. “An important matter of state, I believe you said.”

Fernan cautiously reached out and grabbed one of the calamari rings, popping it into his mouth and beginning to chew. Actually, this meal gives a better excuse for him talking less. That, in addition to conning their way into these delicious new fish.

Biting her lip again, Lady Camille sucked in air. “Yes. No doubt you already know of my duel with Lord Aurelian Lumière.”

“Wha––”

“We’ve heard rumors, of course.” Florette kicked Fernan under the table. “But we’d like to hear your side of it first, to get a more complete picture.” She tried one of the rings next, but between the burning sensation in her throat and the tougher, chewy texture, it was easily the lesser of the two.

“He challenged me to a duel to the death, with fifty souls hanging in the balance. Should I lose, he will burn them alive.”

Fernan clenched his fist, but remained silent.

At least that further showed that going to this meeting was the right decision. Florette could reassure him of that, once they were done. It might soften the blow of what he’d almost agreed to do.

“Is this conflict truly so irreconcilable?” Fernan asked stiffly. “There must be some way to come to an agreement without need for any of this… violence.”

“I’m afraid so.” Lady Camille bit her lip. “The Sun Temple has never taken kindly to the Malin presence here, Aurelian Lumière least of all. He wants me dead and my people gone, even if it earns him Duke Fouchand’s ire.”

“Why?” Florette grabbed another oyster. “How does it benefit him?”

She shrugged. “More offerings to his spirit, more power to himself, less competition for the Duke’s political favor, had he handled this more gracefully anyway. Beyond that, I really could not tell you.”

“He’s just that kind of prick.” Florette nodded. “Burns people, hates people, duels people. Sure, got it. I guess it doesn’t need to be any more complicated than that.”

“I find that unlikely,” Fernan muttered.

“Because villains are always so complicated, so nuanced?” Florette turned to stare into the green fire in his eyes. “Was King Harold III? Lord Arion of Fortescue? For every tortured soul who thinks they’re doing the right thing, there’s ten people advancing their self-interest as much as they can, not thinking about it any more than that.”

“Well spoken, Celine.” Lady Camille nodded. “Especially for a commoner.”

“My lord grants me access to his library in my free time, and encourages me to speak my mind,” Florette lied quickly. “I apologize if our dynamic is unusual to an esteemed Lady such as yourself.”

Fernan nodded. “Yes, indeed.”

“No.” Lady Camille crossed her legs, leaning back further in her chair. “I think not.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Allow me to clarify then.” She clicked her tongue. “You are not an aristocrat at all, ‘Fernan’, if that is even your real name. Nor is ‘Celine’ your servant.”

The flame in his eyes dimmed again to a pinprick. “How did you know?” he spoke, before Florette had a chance to stop him.

The lady smiled, only now it had an air of cruelty to it. “Because you just told me, boy.”

Fuck. “My lord is simply taken aback by this vile accusation. If you would allow me––”

Lady Camille held up one finger. “I had my suspicions when you looked so bewildered at my mention of Laura Bougitte, but it was your atrocious table manners that truly convinced me.” She picked up one of the strange looking knives that the servant had left along with the food, waving it in front of them. “Even the lowest of nobility would know how to use a fork in company, rather than attacking their food like a wild animal. And now he has confirmed it in his own words.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. If you would just allow me to explain, all of this has a sensible––”

“Stop.” She grabbed an oyster in one hand and dug out the meaty part with her fork. “Your ruse is at an end. You lose. Now is the time for truth.” She sucked down the oyster with a satisfied look on her face. “First, are you really a sage? You have obviously been touched by the spirits, but that could mean a few different things.”

“I am,” Fernan responded. “Of the flame spirit Gézarde, up in the Guerron mountains to the east of here. I’m sorry that we deceived you.”

“Of course you are.” Camille rolled her eyes. “Please, prove it with a bit of spiritual magic, so I can at least set doubts about that to rest.”

“I really am, you know.” As Fernan spoke, tiny blasts of fire spewed out of his mouth before dissipating in the air. “I never wanted to lie about this, but it all spiralled out of control. Honestly, it’s something of a relief now that I can be honest with you.”

Florette sighed. He was going to ruin everything for himself if he kept talking like this. “We’re still here, even though you could call for the guards in a moment. Whatever you need us for, you still do. I’m guessing it’s something to do with the Sun Temple?”

Camille shrugged. “Need is a strong word. You could be useful to me, perhaps.”

“Well, tell us how we can help then.” Fernan wiped his brow. “I’m sure we’d be happy to.”

Florette stomped on his foot, hard. “At best, you thought Fernan was the cousin of someone who hated you. Depending on how suspicious you were of us, possibly worse than that. Even now, you’re still negotiating, and it’s obvious why: you don’t have anything else to turn to. You need him, a flame sage to… what, break into the Sun Temple? Steal some of their relics?”

“No.” Camille narrowed her eyes. “I needed someone to be my man on the inside. To tell me what Aurelian is planning so I can counteract it. And when the dust settles, to help steer the Temple’s regency towards peace, rather than retaliatory violence.”

Fernan’s eyes blazed brighter as he opened his mouth, so Florette kicked him again.

“Then we have demands of our own,” she said.

Camille scoffed. “You are not in a position to demand anything. I could have you thrown in the harborside cells with a snap of my fingers. By morning, you would be nothing but another sacrifice to Levian.”

“That’s fine,” Florette pitched her voice up to sound more casual. “Lock us up. I’m sure you can find another flame sage before your duel.” She folded her arms behind her head, leaning back in her own chair as she put her feet up on the table.

Biting her lip, Camille clenched her fists tightly. “What do you want?”

“I’m sure you’ll find it reasonable. First of all, Fernan requires a spirit sundial. I have it on good authority that a number of them are lost in the harbor. Recovering them should be trivial for a water sage such as yourself.”

“Fine,” she spat out venomously. “If that is all––”

“Six thousand florins,” Florette added. “Not a half-penny less.”

“Six thousand?” Camille chuckled. “Certainly. That will not be an issue. I’ll send it to you after the duel, along with a spirit sundial. I have already gathered them up from the harbor, as it happens, so you can be assured I can provide it.”

‘We need more assurance than that.” Florette grabbed another two oysters and sucked them down in rapid succession. Why not, when they were probably about to be thrown out? “If you die in the duel, all of this would be for nothing.”

Camille smiled, her eyes narrow. “Then let that be an incentive to uncover whatever Aurelian is planning. My success is your success, Celine.”

Florette shrugged. “Fine then. Call it a deal.”

Fernan narrowed his eyes, though the flame still trailed up past it. “I can agree to that.”

“A deal it is, then.” Camille stood up, pushing her chair back in as she did. “Find me at the castle the moment you hear anything useful, Fernan. And you”––she turned to face Florette––”I would just as soon never see you again.”

“Suits me just fine.” Florette smiled. “We should probably be going then. Come on, Fernan, you’ve got a village to save.”