Book 3: Chapter 13 – Reunited [Part 1]
Book 3: Chapter 13 - Reunited [Part 1]
Lay this unto your breast: Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.
- John Webster.
Seraphina had sent Miriam and one of her Knights ahead to formally announce her arrival. If Miriam was not a complete dolt, and that was still up for debate, Lady Yanmei would have been informed well in advance by messenger. It was not as though she were taking the de Laney household by complete surprise. As the carriage lumbered nearer the river's edge, Seraphina's keen eyes caught sight of queer pillars thrusting from the earth like the bones of some ancient beast unearthed by storm. Unnatural they were, shaped by no mortal mason's hand but by the whims of magic. Eloise had been honing her craft, it seemed
The carriage rolled to a halt before the main doors of the de Laney manse with a rattle of wheels and the soft clatter of hooves upon gravel. Tia fluttered to the window for a better view, peering out as the footman sprang down to open the door before settling on Seraphina’s soldier. Cornelia, wrapped around the young girl’s chest, hissed softly while still in a torpid state.
Sir Frest opened the door for her as Seraphina stepped out with practiced grace, smoothing her skirts as her gaze swept the estate like a general surveying a field of battle: manicured paths, fresh-painted shutters, garden beds laid out in rigid Imperial lines that forced nature to grow to its demanding aesthetic.
Lady Yanmei, or Idelie, which was her adopted Aranthian name, awaited upon the steps. Her hands were folded demurely before her like a priestess at prayer, clad in the subtle elegance of an imperial highborn with silks that clung to her form without vulgarity, their colors fashionably muted. Her face was a mask of sharp delicacy: almond eyes shadowed by slender brows, skin pale as fresh-fallen snow, features almost untouched by the ravages of time or the harsh glare of Aranthia's sun. An older version of her daughter, Eloise, Lady Yanmei, reminded Seraphina of her own mother from her previous life and stirred a tangle of long-buried feelings she had left untouched for years.
"Lady de Sariens," Yanmei intoned, dipping in a bow neither servile nor arrogant, the perfect measure of respect among equals who knew better. "Your presence graces our humble halls."
Unlike the toymaker's, her voice carried but only the faintest echo of the Empire.
Seraphina inclined her head in return. "The honor is mine, Lady Yanmei. A blessing to you and your family. Your estate is…" she glanced about, "...most charming. You have wrought wonders here."
Yanmei offered a modest smile, her voice touched a vague tinge of amusement. "It was truly dreadful when we first arrived. The old lord had been punished by the Heavens by the look of the place. King Elidion both blessed and cursed us. It took us months to make it livable, and longer still to bring it to something like grace. We’ve added a few improvements, of course, though the bones of the place are old."
"You’d never know it. The work shows," Seraphina said. Her eyes lingered on the carved lintels and lacquered door. "Where is the Lord Geron de Laney? I had hoped to pay my respects."
A slight shift of Yanmei’s expression, a practiced disappointment. "Most unfortunately, he is away on business in Aran. Matters of the trade. He sends his regrets, of course."
"I see," Seraphina replied, filing that away. "And my dearest friend, Eloise? Surely she's not still preparing for my arrival?"
Yanmei chuckled softly. "She’s about the town at present, gathering the ingredients for this evening’s dinner."
Seraphina raised a delicate brow. "Surely that’s a servant’s duty?"
"In the Empire," Yanmei replied smoothly, "it is the duty of the eldest daughter to understand the workings of the household. The running of things. I would see her know the price of the basic things before I allow her to spend coin like breath… You know, like the ladies of this land. Until very recently, after all, we were just a merchant family."
“Just” a merchant family, Seraphina thought, which in this case meant a massive trading house that spans much of the Empire, and the islands of Quas and Qis. Still, they weren’t quite as rich as Rashana’s family.
A few moments later, someone emerged from the mansion. Someone who could only have been Eloise’s brother.
“Sorry, I’m late,” he said with a slight grin.
"Ah, my youngest, Daeron," Yanmei announced, gesturing with the grace of a hostess unveiling a prized dish.
Daeron was typically handsome with the sort of easy good looks that emerge when East and West blend in just the right way. He had his mother’s almond eyes, a strong jawline, and a shock of brown hair that fell just so. In a few years, Seraphina could already tell, he would cause quite a stir among the court’s eligible daughters. It was a shame that he was younger than her.
“My lady,” the boy said, offering a sweeping bow.
Seraphina extended her hand, pale and ringed with gems. Daeron kissed the air above it. From the corner of her eye, she spied Yanmei's composure crack. It was a fleeting surprise, like lightning in a clear sky.
It had been a calculated move and powerful in its subtlety. Seraphina doubted any of the old families would have extended such a gesture to those they still viewed as new “upstarts,” no matter how vast their coffers or polished their manners. And, being a foreigner, the young girl doubted that the Lady Yanmei had been made to feel welcome at court.
Seraphina turned to the lady from the Empire. “And, if I may be so bold, where is my former tutor, Lord Beron?”
Yanmei’s smile widened ever so slightly, her expression touched with something almost wistful. “Off on one of his adventures, no doubt—gathering material for another of his books. We’ve long since learned to let him indulge such whims.”
Then, catching herself, she gave a gentle laugh. “But where are my manners? We can’t have you standing out here. Come, be welcome in my home. We’ll have tea in the sitting room.”