by E G Manetti
Although fashions vary, aspects of the Third System Governor’s Cotillion have not altered in two centuries. The governor offers a formal welcome to her guests from a second-storey gallery overlooking the main reception hall. The event opens with a dazzling drill of arms provided by the elite of the governor’s guard. Dancing and refreshments are offered for several periods before the final entertainment, in which two score of the governor’s militia engage in a reenactment of one of the Fourth Warrior’s triumphs. There were many. It is always a matter of great speculation as to which will be presented and in what manner. ~ excerpt from The Third System, a visitor’s guide.
Sevenday 142, Day 6
I am the sum of my ancestors. At Seigneur Trevelyan’s gesture, Lilian takes a seat at his small conference table. It is not the first occasion she has been seated for eighth bell, but she is not on restricted duty. With aplomb that suggests Rebecca is accustomed to the arrangement, the blonde takes the seat to Seigneur Trevelyan’s left.
I am the foundation of my family. Glancing at the open door to the seigneur’s office, she braces for the cartel gossip when this becomes known.
Following her gaze, the seigneur huffs a laugh. “I am not so lost to decorum. Jurian and Marco are not within the cartel and none of the executive servitors can view aught at this angle.”
This day. Milord is not alone in being absent the cartel in preparation for the Governor’s Cotillion. Unlike the shrine cotillions, the governor’s is by invitation only.
Trevelyan will be glad when cotillion season passes. At least this season, it is but Elysia who reached the age of consent among the Serengeti warriors. Last season Marco’s Jenica and Aristides’ Marisa both had cotillions. Not that he did not enjoy last season—the cotillions are an excellent venue to attach a lover for a night or season. This season it is different. Helena refuses to attend and he has no interest in any other. The Governor’s Cotillion is like to prove naught but a long and tedious evening. At least there are only two others he must attend, Jonathan’s Cotillion at the Five Warriors’ Festival and the Vistrite Cotillion that ends the season. Helena could not be persuaded to attend Sinead’s Cotillion, and he doubts she will agree to any others.
Rebecca makes a minute adjustment to her jacket lapel. The small gesture cannot be considered fidgeting, but it recalls him to the matter at hand. “The latest alerts from the Eleventh System offer naught. Both the transport and decoy are maintaining their routes, but it is like to be another day before the decoy enters the area of interception. Lilian, what transfer time for the last alert?”
“Eight periods.” Lilian does not glance at her slate. “They are both at the farthest distance from a system network. By the morrow, the coded messages will take no more than seven.”
“If we gain naught from this exercise but proof of the Serengeti code, that will serve.” A variation of the Bright Star code sealed with Serengeti security-privilege, it offers the same benefits. Alerts that would take days to transit from the depth of the beaconed expanse will arrive in but bells. “If this decoy does not serve, we will send another.”
Lilian’s hands drop to her lap, one fingering the conservator’s seal. Next to him, Rebecca gives a small sigh. Both apprentices are as frustrated by this waiting as he is. Nonetheless, there is commerce to conduct and duty to attend. “The bounty on Lilian has increased her danger. Seigneur Thorvald will have fireburst rifles delivered to Katleen’s house before midday. You are both to spend a period on the range before exiting the cartel. The fire range master has increased your range allotments to every other commerce day.”
Both women nod. Rebecca’s skills with a rifle are sound; she has used the range with Tabitha for three seasons. Lilian had some skill while at university, but it faded through lack of use. She has only been a few months regaining what was lost. With the grim topic behind him, Trevelyan says, “Once you complete your duties at third bell past midday, you are both dismissed.”
Rebecca smiles and Lilian’s eyes brighten. He is not done. Pulling a gray commerce token from his pocket, he tosses it toward Lilian, who plucks it from the air. “Katleen’s training garb and footgear are disgraceful. The direction for my preferred merchant is on the token. There is also enough for an evening meal from Hidaka’s. As I am unable to attend to the seer this evening, send to the café.”
None can fault him for attending to the comfort of his lover and her minor child. Or use it to level an indictment of excessive consideration against Lilian. Nor can he be challenged for protecting Lucius’ property.
»◊«
Lilian’s heart aches at the sight of the River Quarter shop that Seigneur Trevelyan favors. It has the same understated appearance as the best warrior armorers—establishments that will not serve her even had she the funds. The display windows offer minimal examples of training garb and accessories. Within, it is the same. The goods on display are few. They offer styles for selection, not inventory for acquisition. Combat garb acquired at this establishment is custom-made.
Katleen glances around, her face falling. “It is all beige. There is naught of Sinead’s gray or peridot.”
Mentally cursing Remus Gariten’s black heart, Lilian hugs Katleen’s shoulders. “They are but samples. You are to select the styles you prefer and then we will choose the fabric and leather. Each item will be made to your exact measurements.”
With wide eyes, Katleen reconsiders the shop. A moth to light, she descends on a pair of high-heeled ankle boots intended for a festival and not training. Before Lilian can bring herself to discourage her sister, Katleen puts them aside. “I do not believe the seigneur would be pleased by such frivolous footgear.”
“I should not think so,” Lilian agrees with approval. Selecting a more practical pair, she says, “Consider these in calfskin. They can be made in charcoal and are appropriate for slate-gray battle garb.”
“I favor those,” Rebecca says. “Charcoal will go well with slate and be more interesting than black.”
Nodding her agreement, Katleen settles into a seat so that the crafter may take her measurements.
»◊«
William’s youngest sister all but drags him toward the discreet River Quarter shop, saying, “I know it appears as naught, but I must have new footgear for training and the festival. This establishment is favored by both Seigneurs Trevelyan and Thorvald.”
Although William will not express it, he dotes on this youngest child of his father’s spouse almost to the degree he dotes on his own children. With a smile and sigh, he holds the door to the modest establishment. If Thorvald and Trevelyan favor this merchant, then there is naught else to be said.
Half his age, Lorelei has but completed her advanced studies. By custom, she will serve her protégé contract beyond Socraide Prime and the direct influence of Horatio and William. He is glad they will have these few sevendays in Crevasse City.
The decade-long consort alliance between his father and mother began when Horatio was but thirty. They produced two children before his father set her aside to wedlock with Lady Angelica. That prestigious warrior alliance produced an additional three children, the youngest of which is Lorelei. His mother leveraged her successful consort alliance with Horatio into a wedlock alliance two levels beyond what her birth status could achieve. When William was proclaimed heir, his mother’s station advanced further. The beguiling woman has achieved status and alliances for the children from her marriage that might otherwise have required three generations of determined ambition. Although he is fond of the half-siblings from his mother, he sees them but rarely and does not have the affinity for them he does for his father’s youngest.
Inside, a man with the build of a discipline master and a shop badge on his shoulder materializes from behind the counter. With grave courtesy he offers assistance, the gleam in his eyes evidence he noticed William’s heir’s signet and the Margovian insignia on his dagger. Leaving Lorelei to explore, he glances around, seeking a comfortable place to wait. Instead, he
discovers Lucius’ apprentice examining a pair of gloves. From whence does the disgraced prodigy acquire the funds for this establishment? Is Mercio that indulgent? Is there another, less reputable source?
He will purchase Lorelei a score of boots in reward for this encounter. Stepping up to the apprentice, he greets her. “Well met, Mistress Lilian,”
Whirling, her fingers hover near her thorn hilt before dropping away when she recognizes him. “Well met indeed, Seigneur William.”
“Lilian, I truly believe Katleen will achieve your inches. You should consider—” Trevelyan’s blonde breaks off. Blue eyes popping, lashes fluttering, she is the picture of chagrin and confusion. “Seigneur, I beg pardon. I did not see the seigneur.”
William is no more proof against the beguiling blonde than any other. He is not surprised to be recognized. Trevelyan’s apprentice would recognize every warrior of note in the Twelve Systems. Although it is his first encounter with Rebecca, he is not deceived by her appearance as a lovely bit of fluff. The strong relationship between the Ravens is well documented, as is the exquisite woman’s ferocity in battle. “No offense is taken, Mistress Rebecca.”
He is pleased by the brief freezing in her expression. She is not as obscure as she believed. The hint of a true smile curves her lips and she nods. His message is understood: he permits her distraction ploy, but he is not deceived.
“As you appear well versed in the goods offered here, will you please me and aid my sister Lorelei?”
At the sound of her name, Lorelei turns toward William. She does not mistake his intent. He wishes Rebecca distracted so he can engage with Lilian. Eyes gleaming, Lorelei is almost dancing on her toes as she engages with the apprentice. Knowing her penchant for gossip, he suspects she will dine out for a week on what she gleans this day. Cornering Lilian, he uses the excuse of the command crew training to engage her in conversation.
With perfect decorum, Lilian says, “The Bright Star command crew is well prepared for the coming First Day demonstration.”
Half listening, he examines Lucius’ conservator. The warrior queue and gold warbelt are familiar. The faded black tunic and trousers are not. Both are worn, although of excellent quality. About to ask if she resides in the River Quarter, he is halted by a bright-eyed teenager who skids to a stop a fingertip shy of collision with Lilian.
“Lilian, Seigneur Trevelyan is beyond generous. I will own the most fabulous garb for training.” Eyes widening, she realizes she interrupted. “I beg pardon. I intended no disrespect.”
Lilian steps closer to her sister. Does she expect him to take offense?
Her expression shuttered, Lilian says, “Seigneur William, would the seigneur permit the daughter of Sinead’s Seer be made known?”
From the child’s stiff posture, she is also expecting a harsh response. Is the Margovian reputation so fierce? More like the louts from that festival brawl were but a few among many. With the tone and expression he uses to soothe his children, William replies, “Mistress Katleen requires no introduction. The courage of the seer’s daughter was witnessed by all the Twelve Systems.”
Lilian’s expression does not change but her shoulders soften. “Katleen, be known to Seigneur William Margovian, financials seigneur of the Matahorn Alliance and the Bright Star Consortium.”
Katleen blinks, and a sweet smile appears. Something in her sister’s tone has reassured the child. “Well met indeed, Seigneur William.”
He cannot resist the opportunity presented by the guileless youngster. “You acquire fine training garb. How goes your training?”
“I will try for competency in Sinead’s Discipline in another year, Seigneur,” Katleen replies. “As my mother trains me, I anticipate success.”
The girl is young to be so close to competency. “So soon? Lady Helena must be an exceptional training master.”
“Seigneur is correct,” Lilian answers, stepping closer to her sister. “The seer is an exceptional training master. Katleen’s skills have been developed since her tenth year.”
William is torn between affront and amusement. Affront that Lilian would interfere, amusement that she protects her sister from his nonexistent censure. Like the seer, he holds to the old ways; whether male or female, his offspring begin training at ten. This recent fashion to hold females until their woman cycles begin incites his derision.
“Lilian trains me in Adelaide’s Avoidance,” Katleen adds with scrupulous honesty.
Although the child’s appearance is nothing like Lorelei’s, something about her evokes the same tendency to indulgence. Sliding a hand in his pocket to resist tossing her curls, he says, “Adelaide’s Thorn is renowned. With two such training masters, you will do well.“
The little redhead’s dark eyes widen in a feigned innocence he recognizes. “Recently, Seigneur Trevelyan has begun to train me as well. The seigneur is very demanding.”
Interesting. Is the child warning him? Trevelyan takes an extraordinary interest in Lucius’ apprentice. He did not miss Katleen’s remark that Seigneur Trevelyan was purchasing her training gear. He cannot imagine the spymaster is dallying with his lord’s apprentice, but something unusual occurs. He is not certain what advantage can be gained from the knowledge, but he is certain something will develop. All he says is, “A formidable training regimen, Mistress Katleen. Your anticipation of success is warranted.”
“Mistress Lilian.” A wiry woman in black rises from her seat by the door, next to a militia guard. “The bell advances. Lady Helena will be waiting.”
“I beg pardon, Seigneur,” Lilian responds to the reminder. “I am required elsewhere.”
Calling to Rebecca, Lilian steps to the counter and pays the proprietor. Both the guard and the woman in black check the walkway before allowing Lilian and her sister to exit. William is almost certain the woman is the same prelate Lilian defeated on Fortuna who now serves contrition as a bodyguard.
»◊«
Nodding approval at his reflection, Lucius thanks Sabri. For all his servitor’s pompous air, the man excels at garbing Lucius to perfection; the midnight formal wear is without crease or wrinkle. Setting his dagger at a precise angle to his signet, he strolls from his bedchamber, through the salon, and to the balcony, where Estella is snuggled under a heater and a silk throw.
She looks up, her eyes brightening, and holds out a hand. “You are wondrous, my love.”
Perching on the lounge, he raises her fingers to his lips. “I will remain, does it please you.”
“And do what?” She squeezes his fingers. “Hold me until ninth bell, when slumber takes me, and then pace until dark of night?”
“I would hold you for as long as you permit.”
She raises her hand to his face. “You were ever selfish. It will not serve. For the first time in generations, the Mercios have the chance to be on good terms with the governor. You dare not squander it.”
The relations between the Mercios and the governors of the Third System have always been cordial, but distant. At the advancement of Lucius the Elder, the Mercios were considered Socraide upstarts by the governors and the well-established warrior elite of the Third System. By the time Serengeti was first among the Third System cartels and fourth in the Twelve Systems, Lucius’ father, Tiberius, had alienated Governor Moira. As a result, she resisted Lucius’ design to defeat the pirates and he resorted to desperate, unscrupulous measures to compel Moira’s compliance. Without the endorsement of the Third System governor, Lucius could not have persuaded the other governors or won the endorsement of the Governing Council for his wild plan.
“She should have released her spite after the first settlement we relieved.” Lucius shudders at the recall.
“If it were Elysia threatened, would you?”
Given that he yet contemplates taking Tiger’s balls, Lucius can do naught but shake his head.
“Another reason to attend.” Estella slides her hand from his jaw to shoulder. “Elysia needs the reassurance of your presence.”
<
br /> Mastery of self. Feathering a kiss across her lips, he rises. The evening holds a great deal of promise and he will not shame either of them by squandering it. “Rest well, my love.”
»◊«
Lucius represses a sigh at Elysia’s averted profile. Since they entered the transport, she has kept her face turned to the passing Garden Center. The Blade’s Point debacle has left her silent and withdrawn, her confidence lost. Glancing at Cesare, he is met with a shrug. His son has no more notion how to reassure his sister than Lucius. He will be glad when Raphael returns in a few sevendays for the Five Warriors’ Festival. He has always been close with Elysia and able to tease her out of a dark mood. Seeking for something to raise her spirits, he says, “Both Nickolas and Fletcher attend the cotillion and are eager to partner you.”
Turning to him, Elysia smiles, but it lacks her customary effervescence. “I will enjoy that.”
She says naught more and he is at a loss. She turns back to watch as the governor’s palace comes into sight. Located on a rise at the southwest corner of the Garden Center District, the palace commands a view of the Garden Center and its warrior ring. Established as a fortress by Jonathan’s first governor, the structure has expanded over centuries into graceful lines with modernized amenities. Only the central hall retains the martial character of the original structure. The wide staircase is lined on either side with militia who contain the gathered media intent on capturing the arrival of the elite of the Third System.
Wondering if he should have relented and allowed Micah’s escort, Lucius offers Elysia his arm and leads her up the stairs to the governor, Cesare a step behind. Lord Gilead stands with Lady Moira, her consort in all but title since his spouse’s passing two years gone. In her midsixties, the governor is a compelling woman with a long nose, a wide mouth, a lush figure, and a vibrant personality. For all the tension between Lucius and Moira, she has always been correct in their public interactions. Since the Despoiler investigation, the relationship has improved to the point of cordiality. He has no fear the governor will be aught but gracious to his children.
