Ariane recounts her first sojourn in the Auveyr

After five months of separation, the five Masdilt siblings were united once again. “We are thrilled to have you here once again,” Alix welcomed her. “There are hundreds of things I would love to know of your time in the Auveyr, but first I would inquire what has brought you here now, this fine evening.”

“Nothing in particular,” she responded carelessly. “I felt it was time for a beautiful day at the Appero. When a young woman drops everything for a new life, it is natural to miss what she left behind every once and again, is it not? And I thought ‘there be nothing that holds me back from returning thereto, so why shall I not?’ Then, by the very same indescribable force that willed me to the Auveyr, so it has willed me to return.” These were essentially the first words any of us had heard from her in so long. Yet they remained very Ariane; strong-willed, free-spirited and leaving her listeners just as curious as when they began.

“Well?” Davidt demanded. “I do not even know where to begin. What was it like? Whom worthy of note did you meet? Did it satisfy your expectations? There are so many details we desire to know right now, so let you not put us on any longer!”

“As you will brother,” Ariane responded, winking. “Calm yourself and let it come in time. I met no one and everyone of note. Among the acquaintances I made, I had previously heard of none of them, yet they have each had some sort of influence on me. Farmers and craftsmen and gentlemen alike have taught me the meaner ways of life, and I boast now that I can slaughter a chicken just as a butcher can.”

Alix began to ask for a chronological recount—“first tell us of the journey to Sill, then of your making your way, then how the people adjusted to you…” and so on—but I interrupted this demand. “No, there will be plenty of time for that. First, I believe, we should hear her general impressions of the vacation, and as time goes on we shall learn more about these specifics.”

I trust that Ariane’s motives in this vacation were as she stated. She was motivated by adventure, and I think that she threw herself headlong into this quest merely out of curiosity. But if that was the expected benefit, this was one she might not have anticipated. Almost as much as adventure, Ariane loved to be the center of attention. She held few pleasures in the same esteem as having access to knowledge and being able to distribute it according to her own desire.

“I have never enjoyed my life so, nor have I ever feared for my life so. There was no single moment that provided me with the immense joy or satisfaction that seems necessary for this, nor was there anything that was a direct threat. Rather, I slept every night knowing that I would face new challenges on the morrow. I knew I would have the opportunity to test each of my muscles and all of my mettle, to train my wits and my will. Yet, I also knew that the consequences were much direr in Sill than they were at the Appero. What if I consumed a piece of poison fruit or a taste of bad meat? These are things we never even consider here, yet the threat was very real. My life was difficult, as I did almost everything for myself, but this difficulty made me feel as though I was living my life with much more intensity than I had ever experienced here.”

We sat for a moment in silenced awe. We nodded to recognize that the words had entered through our ears and into our brains, but I doubt if any of us truly understand just what she was explaining. Her entire point was that it was beyond her mind’s old realm of possibilities, and it was therefore incomprehensible to us, who were still of Ariane’s old point of view. Alix was the most doubting of all of us, and perhaps that is why she was the first to follow this up with further questioning. “Everything for yourself? Is it utter wilderness there? Surely there must be some small markets, some villages in which goods are manufactured. You said farmers and craftsmen! Then you would not have had to craft your own possessions or harvest your own food.”

“Yes, that is correct. I should not say I did everything for myself, but rather that, in comparison to life here, it seemed that way. Meat is sold at the market, but I could only purchase what my ladies and I could carry in our arms. I soon found it better to buy meat two days a week and live off of the manor’s livestock for the rest. This mostly meant collecting a few eggs on odd days, but when I desired the meat of a chicken, I had no choice but to kill one and cook it for myself. There was no staff at the manor; I insisted upon it. So daily household chores, from cooking to cleaning to tending to the animals were our collective responsibility. I should add that we made a few friends in town who taught my ladies and me to do much of these things, but within a month we were doing everything ourselves.”

It was such a strange lifestyle, something that seemed so far removed from anything we had ever known. The sister of a grand duke was fending for herself, living self-sufficiently. It was as though we lived in a wild country and, indeed, Ariane had just done so. But now I wanted my turn at interrogation. Alix and Davidt had asked questions about her experience but I was concerned with me. “This is all fascinating, good sister. I am glad to hear you had such a time of it, especially as I worried for you so. Why did we receive only a few small words of your fare? Is there no paper or ink in that part of the world?”

“Now Andrew, you know I almost never write letters! If I sent you a note about each of my adventures I would have little to tell you all right now. Letters are for urgent matters or else for people whom I do not plan to see. You are not the latter and I had none of the former for you, so why should I write?”

“At least let you send us one that we may know you think of us. We have missed you, Ariane.”

“But you know I missed you. Or, at least, I did at first. But missing you is a matter to learn that I should put you out of my mind for a time. I designated that halfyear to experience the Auveyr on my own, so it does not meet to think on what I have left behind. Of course you crossed my mind on occasion—and at those moments brought a smile to my lips—but I knew I would see you again soon.”

This was a minor outrage to us, as it seemed she did not even care for us. She had never even departed the nearest parts of our thoughts. We set an extra place for her at formal dinners, we discussed and guessed her escapades on a daily basis. How could we have come to her mind so rarely?

I could see Kate and Alix shake their heads, and I realized I had crossed my arms. The exchange had made Tillenrow smile, while Ariane seemed totally oblivious to our reactions. It is unfair what casual control Ariane yields over us. She knows just how to leave her friends and family wanting more, such that she can claim not to have thought of us for five whole months and get off with a minor scolding. We can declare the offense we have taken, and Ariane will apologize and justify, but we can never tell her just how improper it is to send us one brief note during such an extensive span of time.

Ariane avoided being scolded in many similar situations because she made for such pleasant company. She kept us laughing or she challenged our ways of thinking, and we relished what time she spent with us. One always left Ariane’s presence feeling refreshed, with a new take on an old idea. It seemed impossible not to desire just a bit more time to let her pick your mind.

Perhaps she did not know this. It is possible that she lived in total ignorance of this common perception of her. She was an enigma; an extrovert socialite who loved to spend time with all different sorts of people, but a woman who demanded frequent time to herself. It might be unfair to accuse her of inventing this need to be alone in order to manipulate those close to her, but she was so mysterious, with such an air of completeness, that it is impossible to know.

A joyous oasis at Nieburn

We were at Nieburn at the time to celebrate Ariane’s birthday, which came the following day. Rafael had offered her a small celebration at court, but Ariane declined this for the warm and friendly surroundings of our family home. It was much better to spend a personal holiday in the presence of loved ones than amongst detractors and back-stabbers.

By the time of that conversation everyone had appeared at Nieburn who intended to appear: the siblings, children, nephews and nieces and many of the in-laws of the honored. No one among the guests had never attended a court at the Appero, as Ariane only trusted her long-time friends to present an enjoyable celebration.

Davidt had ordered four live swans to be brought to the house, where they would be killed and served for the dinner. However, Ariane had learned of this some time before, and heroically pardoned the graceful creatures and released them into the river that afternoon. In their stead, Ferand delivered a pair of ducks and a great goose. We took this great meal six hours after noon, filling our bellies with the meat as well as cheeses and baked fruits such as apples—a rarity in Allonia, but we now had easy access to them, as they grew throughout Lylya and the Kingdom.

When we had had all we could eat, Davidt produced six bottles of Luvian wine, which was Ariane’s favorite. “Oh, brother, you have thought so deeply and delicately about this meal,” she proclaimed. “This birthday is hardly a milestone, yet you have made this seem the most important day in all the year!”

Davidt clapped his hands and smiled. “We have had a few good years and prosperity has overtaken our family. If I have plenty there be no reason why I should not share it with the people I love and use it to honor them.” Then, as the servants poured each of the adults a few drops of wine, Davidt raised his glass and cried, “to my sister, Ariane, and her husband, Grand Chamberlain Ferand!”

We all repeated this cheer and then downed what was in our glass. This was a traditional Allonian toast: everyone above the age of sixteen and in good health was served a sip of wine and expected to drink it to honor the guest. After that, consumption was entirely optional and only elected by the bravest among us. This, however, was Ariane’s day, and as she enjoyed wine more than anyone else I knew, we were all pleased to join her as she partook in this luxury.

“It is so rich!” Ariane cried. “Davidt, had you tasted this before you ordered it? How did you know how much I might love it?”

Indeed, this might have been the most delicious wine I had ever tasted. It was sweet but powerful and bold, ushering me into a world of dramatic, almost aggressive contentment. This wine was bent on taking control of its host and forcing a good time upon him, and I knew few men might be able to resist it once the first drop had danced upon his tongue. Indeed, of the fourteen adults who had been poured a toast, nine of us requested a full glass.

The laughs continued late into the night. I had begun to feel the effect of the liquid as soon as I finished my first glass, but I threw aside my usual caution and commanded another. “I am sorry Nathia has needed to miss our celebration this night,” Ariane called out to me, “but I do not think she shall wish you to ail as she does the morrow morning!” She winked and made a nod toward the wine that brimmed within my glass.

“How ail?” Did she make a pun on ale? Either the drink had caused her to jest without sense or else it had prevented me from comprehending her point. Then it hit me. “Oh, yes, she ails.” I smiled sheepishly. “Indeed she does, and so shall I might, but blessed are we that we do not have to see one another when we awake!” I attempted this recovery and Ariane and a few others laughed heartily, although I know not whether they accepted my cover or if they merely chuckled out of politeness.

I had forgotten until just then of a little lie I had told about Nathia. Just before I left court the previous day, Nathia had suddenly taken to her bed, claiming that an illness had made her faint of head and stomach. I saw no physical signs of this illness, but my wife was a generous actor, reinforcing her claim with fits of tears and various occasions of retching her stomach, despite producing nothing therefrom. Between these, she explained to me that she would have to skip the festivities.

There was little doubt in my mind that Nathia had invented her illness entirely, either to avoid making nice with my youngest sister or to avoid having a glass placed before her that she would not drink. For this reason I did not even for a moment consider staying by her side, and I perhaps even cherished the idea of attending a family function without her uptight eyes upon us. So I brought her a jug of water and told a servant to attend her with special care, and then slipped quietly out of the room and away from the palace.

My sister Kate decided to tease me further about this little escape. “Yes, perhaps you are blessed not to awake at her side, but how joyous can she be as she gives up her bread while you are here celebrating?”

“Oh, Kate!” Ariane retorted. “Do not say such vile things!”

“Thank you, Ariane, for rushing to my defense,” I told her as I took a great swig from my glass.

“No, defense of you nothing! It is vile what she said about the bread but entirely appropriate what she said of you! Imagine her in bed weeping while you are here drinking!”

All of the attention had now turned toward us, and we all had a good laugh. At that moment I realized what I had tried to deny to myself before, that Nathia would surely be sore with me for my having abandoned her. “My brothers and sisters, we have all spent many years together. You all know my wife and thus very well known why I am here while she is there.”

At this they roared with approval. “Is it her ability to will herself ill as she drops her hat?” Alix asked.

“Nay, I believe Andrew says how well he likes to be away from her,” Kate responded.

“My sisters, you must know you are both correct in interpreting my claims, but that neither is appropriate for me to say!”

“But come, brother,” Davidt called from across the table. “What does appropriate matter when you are around us, your family?”

“Indeed,” I told him. “If there is any family to act inappropriate around it is this family!”

We all laughed much more, and the whole house seemed to echo with the sounds of our joy. We enjoyed ourselves well into the night, disrupting the sleep of our children and servants, forgetting the troubles that Ariane and Ferand had recounted to me the day before. I wish this sort of merriment could have lasted eternally, but two realities were determined to crash down upon the happy night we built. The first was the following morning, when we all found ourselves feeling weak and a bit nauseous from the wine and the lack of sleep. The second was that we had to return to court, where we all had to face our critics and I had to face my wife.

Ariane and Ferand recount how they have fallen in love

Kate wanted to know how they had met and come to fall in love. “It is difficult not to fall in love with a man who has taught you how to live,” Ariane beamed. “Indeed, I should be glad that he chose me over my ladies, as I am sure they felt the same natural attraction to him.”

“I would hardly say taught you how to live,” Ferand interrupted for the first time. “A few of the finer points of the Auveyr, I think, but you have an inherent talent for living. I have never seen anyone quite as adept at living as you, and for that I was immediately drawn to you.”

“But imagine: I was in an entirely new place, doing things I had never done before. I needed to cook in order to survive, and as you taught me that it was you who taught me the most basic aspect of a life I had never experienced. It is to be expected that I became attached, and we quickly discovered that our feelings for one another were romantic and mutual.”

“Yes, but you were the daughter of my sovereign; an outside guest in a strange place. As I am a gentleman my mind was slow in conceiving that I might actually fall in love with you. And even once I did, I did not dare to think that you would deign to return my feelings.”

Kate disrupted this dialogue for more details. “Was there a moment?”

“A moment. Yes, I suppose one might say that. Or there was a quality. There is something unique and lovely about the way you moves her shoulders.” Despite Kate’s having asked the question, Ferand spoke toward Ariane. It was the sort of thing that might portend poorly of his relationship with us, but in this circumstance it marked how deeply in love he was. “It is free and elegant and graceful, as though you carry yourself so lightly that when the wind moves you your body does not resist. It is though every one of the muscles in your entire body is relaxed at every moment. Ariane Masdilt does not try; she merely is. And your loose, shaking shoulders are a manifestation of that. I noticed them one day as I showed you how best to clean your lettuce leaves. They moved so smoothly and I realized how careless and unaffected you were.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“That is not what I meant at all,” Kate complained, a smile upon her face. “I wanted to know the exact moment you realized your love was mutual. When did it grow from two independent thoughts in each of your head into this union?”

“And that will be Ariane Masdilt for you again!” Ferand laughed.

“I told you after a meal. We had just finished eating that fluffy egg dish you make and there, in front of all three of my ladies, I told you I was in love.”

“I was speechless. I must have turned bright white at the sound of the thing I most wanted but least expected. And I suppose I said something silly, like ‘me too’, and then it was settled thereafter that we had adopted a courtship.”

“My moment had only been about three hours earlier. I used to read by the window of my bedchamber, and I could hear the sound of any horse as it approached. Well I was expecting you that evening, and I discovered a peculiar little sensation. I heard the sound of hooves early and my face was overcome with glee. I threw down my book and looked out the window, only to find that it was some man bringing a letter from Andrew. I tried to read the letter but found I could not focus. When I put it down and returned to my book, I still understood nothing of what I read. It was then that I realized my mind was so distracted by impatient expectations of you that I could think of little else. I could not wait to see you, and when you finally did appear in the distance from my window my throat was a-hum and my feet were a-tap. I threw myself down the stairs and to the little gatehouse, intercepting the porter and greeting you myself.”

“So Ferand fell in love because of Ariane’s shoulders, and Ariane fell in love because of Ferand’s horse’s hooves?” I asked.

“That seems to be the case!” Ariane exclaimed to laughter. “The remaining two months together were bliss. Then Ferand asked my hand in marriage and I panicked. I feared that I might become too enchanted with that little life, so I hastened here to remind myself of what I had loved and left behind. At that point I knew that I must have them both: Ferand and the Appero. So I returned to the Auveyr and offered myself to him by the terms upon which we had previously agreed.”

“Previously agreed?” Kate asked. “Then you must not have left him on his knee, as you make it sound. Did you discuss marriage with him before you rushed here?”

“Of course we did. I told him about my loyalty to this place and to you, and he understood that I needed to come here and would likely return there.”

“But that is not to say that I was not terrified of losing you,” Ferand explained. “For if you believe you waited for the sound of my horse’s hooves in impatient expectation for a few hours, then you cannot understand the anxiety of those several months while I fretted about the state of your heart. I constantly sought any sign of a messenger bringing word for you. I opened all of my senses to you, hoping that the fastest among them—whichever it was—would sense where your heart was and sooth my nerves over your decision.”

“And so she did,” Kate beamed. “Hum. What a romantic tale.”

“It did not seem quite that way at the time, but that is what it has become.” Ferand smiled at Ariane, and I sensed that he understood that, despite the flighty character of her soul, she always returned home. She might be unpredictable in the short-term, but he trusted absolutely that she would always lovingly keep her word to him.

Map of Restoration Acrola (1497-1500)

A crude, MS Paint map of Acrola during the Restoration (1497-1500). Foreign nations are marked in other colors, the borders of Acrolan realms in thin black line, lesser titles in italics, and cities with dot size approximating population size.

Nathia speaks of witches

I embraced them both and returned to my chamber, where I undressed down to my shirt and threw myself upon the bed. I rested atop the sheets as my mind raced, consuming all that I had faced in the last hour or two. I might have been nearing sleep when I heard someone enter. I looked up to see my wife with a smile upon her face, and she greeted as though the entire last few days had not even existed.

I was hardly in the mood for this emotional swing, so I merely asked how her night had gone, making no effort to get up from the bed. I was not deeply concerned about her whereabouts, although I was curious to know if she had spoken with any of the ladies I had seen that night.

“It was indeed wonderful. I enjoyed the pleasurable company of several new ladies.” She listed a few names that I neither recognized nor cared to learn.

“None of the same, then?”

“No, I believe it is good to make new friends every once and again.” She continued on with some story of what they had discussed, droning on about what and whatnot.

Finally, after she had run out of steam, I decided to discuss my end of the night with her. I knew that Nathia bore no sympathy for Ariane, but I could not help but bring up the allegations that night, as they were so raw in my head. I was more cautious than I had been with Kate, leaving out important details like my having sought these ladies out and even their identities. When I was finished, Nathia seemed unimpressed, so I began to muse in the hopes of drawing some sort of reaction from her.

“How could anyone in this day make an honest accusation of witchcraft?” I wondered aloud to her. “The fact that anyone initiated such a thing is preposterous unto itself, but to hear it actually gain some traction? Now Nathia, I know you harbor no strong love for Ariane, but surely even you must be shocked at such a thing!”

This had hooked her. “Andrew, do you know what witchcraft is?” She altered the subject slightly, perhaps to gain control of the conversation. “Do you know what makes a witch?” Her voice had fallen to a whisper.

“Yes, of course I do! It is a woman who brings evil through magic. I know a witch well enough to know my sister is not one.”

“You pretend to be so wise. You claim that no civilized person could make such a claim at witchcraft, but before denouncing something you must obtain a better view thereof.”

Was she defending the accusation, or merely attacking me? “Very well,” I challenged her. “Enlighten me.”

“A witch does use magic to stir evil, but that is not all. Her primary goal is to disrupt the procreation, to bring about the end of upstanding society by destroying its offspring. A witch dabbles in midwifery, but only in order to destroy little newborn lives when they are still at their most delicate. Witches are often wet nurses, poisoning babes by their breast. And witches can often be found in nurseries, where they infect children with various poxes and plagues and whatever else might snuff out their poor lives.”

“So that is a witch. And Ariane is none of those: she is neither midwife nor wet nurse nor child’s nurse.”

“But there are witches amongst the nobility and gentry,” she told me, keeping her hushed tone to emphasize the terror of the matter. “These are the most dangerous of all, for they are the most learned in their craft. They know how to target their enemies with frightening accuracy. They can murder a child with one instance of contact, perhaps even while several feet away. It is the noble witches of whom we must be most wary, for they can do the most evil.”

“Nathia, do you truly believe in witchcraft?” I had assumed that she was merely arguing the point of the ignorant Hiellouans who feared such mythical demons. That I might actually have a true hysteric in my midst had not occurred to me until that very moment.

“Of course I believe in witches!” She cried. “There are many sources of unspeakable evil around us, wreaking death and destruction, ruining men and families and whole empires! Witches are but one of these sources, but we must always be vigilant of them because of the gruesome way in which they carry out their work.”

She had some sort of crazed look in her eyes, as though another spirit had taken hold of her. If I believed any of the drivel that came out of her mouth, it would have demanded that I suspect her for a witch just then. But for now I merely walked off, realizing that Nathia was entirely immune to reason, and that reason was the very foundation of my life. “I shall be at Nieburn, consulting with my family of witches and wizards. Perhaps I shall find you here tomorrow.” I gathered a few things and stepped out of the door.

“Andrew, do not make such jokes of a serious matter!” She called after me. If I were not deeply upset about the further damage done to my sister’s reputation that night, I probably would have offered a mocking laugh just then. Witches in Acrola. What had I married?

Nathia, what have you done?

I turned my attention to Nathia, who fled out of the Great Hall and toward our apartments, ignoring my every call for her to slow down and explain herself. After we had both entered into our bedchamber, she turned and faced me, sniffling and wiping her eyes. She appeared to expect me to apologize for having embarrassed her in front of a few ladies of the court, but I was ready to tear into her.

“How stood you there as they insulted her? They spoke such disgraceful things and you laughed along with them!”

“Me? I do wrong? You humiliated us! Oh, I shall never forget their awful stares as they realized that she was my sister-in-law! The shame they must have cast!” She moaned and threw her hands before her face, but I would not suffer the act.

“If there was any shame to share it should have been theirs at having spoken such lewd lies of a woman they knew not. Do you realize, Nathia, that they judge her because she is southern, as are you?”

She scoffed, insulted that I would suggest such a thing. “I am from Green, which is not in Allonia and not southern!”

“No, your mother is from Green. With a name like Nathia Fournet, you could only have a father whose Beautav ancestors settled in Allonia after their eviction from Hilleana. You are as Allonian as I am!”

“My father died when I was but a child. I have always lived by my mother’s influence, dressing and behaving in a manner suitable to an Acrolan noblewoman. That is what they mock; southern style, not blood or residence.”

“I had no idea you resented my sister or my style so,” I responded calmly. I found my way under her skin, but she deserved it after what she had done.

“I have garbed myself properly—-in gowns of cost appropriate to my station, and cuts that befit anyone beyond a whore! And I behave according to Acrolan etiquette, rather than flirting, doing and saying as I please.”

“So you hate her for being a product of her own upbringing, just as I am a result of the selfsame background?”

“You will always take her side, will you not?” She threw herself onto the bed. “Very well, then. Go—-let you sleep with her if she will be more comfort to you. If no one takes up my cause I shall sleep my days out in solace.”

Her voice had reached a holler by this point, and I was not surprised to hear Matthew begin crying in the adjoining nursery. Nathia was playing dead on the bed now, refusing to acknowledge my attempts at reasoning with her. So I went to the nursery, grabbed my son into my arms and brought him back to my bedchamber, where I rocked him and told him everything would be fine.

“Will your voice never cease to haunt my ears?” Nathia barked at me with no warning. “I told you to leave me in peace!”

She was truly agitated, and I saw now how humiliated she was with my behavior. Perhaps I should have run to her then and apologized for everything, promising that I would always support her over her perceived enemies. But I was too upset with her to do any such thing, and Matthew needed comforting. So instead, I ferried the child out of the room and took him on a walk down a few nearby corridors, telling him a story about a nun falling in love. When we returned, nearly an hour later, Nathia had fallen asleep truthfully, so I put Matthew and me to bed.

Important Characters

The following are characters who are mentioned several times throughout the story, and whose unique personality traits help guide the narrative. Full, formal names are given, although in informal situations, they will not take these names.

Andrew Masdilt, Count of Iszmon--The narrator of the story, Andrew is the fourth of five children, is a count, and spends most of the first half of his life at his elder brother's court, at Appero Palace. He is slightly insecure, perhaps overly-concerned with the opinions of others, and frequently feels outsmarted by those around him. Andrew is married to Nathia Fournet and has one child, a boy named Matthew, born in 1492.

Ariane Masdilt of Allonia--The youngest of the Masdilt children, and the story's protagonist, Ariane is free-spirited and strong-willed. Ariane spends the her younger years at the Appero, but has a bit of a wander lust. During the story, she marries Ferand Bournin, and has two children: Ferand-Matthieu, born 1490, and Arienne, born 1493.

Davidt Masdilt, Grand Duke of Allonia--Davidt is the second and eldest son of the Masdilts. He is the head of the family by virtue of his title, Grand Duke of Allonia. In his early adulthood, Allonia is an independent state, but during the course of the novel, Allonia submits to Acrola, and Davidt becomes a vassal of the new Emperor Rafael. Davidt is brave, wise and stoic, and Andrew frequently seeks out Davidt for advice. He is married to Kate de Platir, and they have two sons: Davidt (who is Count of Enelt during the early part of the story, and later becomes Grand Duke of Allonia after his father's death), and John, Count of Brimia.

Alix Masdilt of Allonia--Alix is the eldest of the Masdilts, and serves as the matriarch of the family following their mother's death. Alix is protective of her siblings, but also quite gentle. She is universally admired, as she and her husband are cultural heroes. She is married to Roebart Perfidt, the Count of Tillenrow. She has been pregnant 12 times, but only six of those children lived past the age of 10: Katharine and two others who do not play active roles in the story, Roebard (Lord Green, later Count Green, and lastly Count of Tillenrow after his father's death), Andrew and Jane.

Kate Masdilt of Allonia--The middle child, Kate is quite and often keeps to herself, but is also known for her quirks. She is among the most even-tempered of the Masdilts, and might even be the most clever, but is often in her own head and has very little time for the thoughts of those around her. She is married to Adam Tarshaber and has two sons, who do not figure prominently in the story.

Ferand Bournin--Ariane's husband, Ferand grew up in the Auveyr which, while part of Allonia, is distant and obscure. When Ariane first brings Ferand to the Appero, the others marvel at how different he is. Ferand continues to weather this awe everywhere he goes, but handles it with charm and goofy humor. Ferand briefly takes the role of Grand Chamberlain of Acrola, but is relieved of it quickly when he proves to be ineffective. Ferand remains firmly at his wife's side, and is seen supporting her and her family unconditionally.

Nathia Fournet--Andrew's wife, Nathia comes from a modest background, but is extremely ambitious, not satisfied with being a middling countess. She is extremely conservative, often horrified by Ariane's and Ferand's antics, and later aligns herself with interests that are against those of the Masdilt family. Nathia is emotionally unstable, perhaps as a result of losing several children in their infancy.

Roebard Perfidt, Count of Tillenrow--Alix's husband, known universally just as Tillenrow, is an international hero, having faced great adversity in his youth. He was orphaned as an infant, then imprisoned for political reasons, before being freed and left in a constantly-changing exile. Eventually, he settled down at the Appero when court was still being held by the Masdilts' parents, and he in fact met his future wife Alix within hours of her birth. Tillenrow spent much of his formative years at the Appero and thus is extremely close to his wife's family. Eventually, his former foes (those who imprisoned and exiled him) are vanquished, and Tillenrow becomes redeemed, seen as an unassailable figure. Despite some unsavory characteristics, Tillenrow is by the time of the story wise, good-humored and generous, and the Masdilts think extremely highly of him.

Meline Witteroud of Aslylya--the sister of one lord and the wife of another, Meline first comes into contact with the Masdilts at the Emperor's court in Acrola. She is extremely ambitious and conservative, like Nathia, and becomes something of a mentor to the woman. She enjoys gossiping for sport, and because it seems to benefit her faction at court, the Lords' Detractor. Early on, Meline is seen as the primary antagonist.

Rafael, Emperor of Acrola--Rafael appears in very few scenes, but his existence makes him vital to the story. He is born as the son of a count, is later recruited to become King of Acrola (which he is able to do in large part because of Masdilt support), then takes on the title of Emperor, through which he becomes overlord of the Masdilts. He passes the Clives Act, by which all nobles must attend his winter court. The Emperor's actions and inaction often determines how certain characters will treat others, especially the Masdilts.

Roebard Perfidt, Count Green--variously Lord Green, Count Green and lastly Count of Tillenrow (although often just called Green), he is the eldest surviving son of the older Tillenrow, and Andrew's favorite nephew. Soft-spoken and quite, Green is the frequent companion of his cousin, the later Grand Duke of Allonia, and often serves to temper that young man's hotheadedness. Green is also known at the imperial court for being amongst the most attractive men, and is known at the Appero for being homosexual, despite him being married to a woman.

Davidt Masdilt, Grand Duke of Allonia--the elder son and namesake of the older Grand Duke, Davidt is first Count of Enelt, but takes on the greater title after his father's death. He is a young man and is known for his bold, rash behavior. He is aggressive and often must be calmed by those around him. However, despite his spontaneity, he is beloved by his relatives, who seek to protect him from rushing into dangerous situations headlong.

Beginnings

“If there were ever a sight more brilliant, more triumphant, more perfect than this,” I proclaimed. “It would be the arrival of God Himself on this very Gulf shore.”

At least, I am supposed to have said such a thing. Albert Swift credits me with having said these words, but I do not know how he would have heard them, as he was still on the ship at this time. Indeed, I would never have uttered that exact phrase, as in our religion we believed God to be an uncontainable spirit, a being impossible of description, and therefore not bound by such human characteristics like gender. But use of the word “himself” is scarcely the vital error in this declaration. More importantly, I took very little interest in Rafael’s arrival, and I certainly never thought to compare his presence to that of God.

That is not to say that we were entirely uninterested in Rafael. It was not every day that a king requested passage through our lands, and foreign and uncrowned though he was, we had every intention of entertaining him to the best of our abilities. But the truth was that my brother Davidt—who was also present—and I had far greater and more pressing matters on our mind at the moment. Our youngest sister’s conspicuous absence, and her suddenly-mysterious whereabouts, was the day’s primary topic of conversation. She had disappeared with little warning and our best guess was that she had gone to meet Rafael and his fellows as their ships docked. To our surprise and Davidt’s raw disdain, she was no where to be found.

We were not concerned for her safety, as young Ariane had a long history of running off for weeks at a time. It was her little game. Just when we had grown accustomed to her presence and begun to believe she had settled down, she would vanish, telling no one where she had gone. I remember the first such disappearance: I was eight at the time and she had just turned five. We were playing some sort of a hiding game with a few of our fellows in the fields and brush on the palace grounds, but Ariane had been missing for too long. When it became clear to me that her discovery was not imminent, I quickly fell into a state of panic. Without a word to my friends, I ran for the palace and informed several servants that my sister had gone missing. “You must find her now!” I insisted. Tears of frustration and horror burst from my eyes, and my commands soon became all muddled and incomprehensible. I adored my sister and the thought of anything bad happening to her terrified me beyond words.

As servants combed the grounds in search for her, my father held me to his chest and allowed me to scream and cry to my heart’s content. My affliction continued for nearly two more hours, until my father roused me and told me to look to the chamber door. There I saw my smiling mother, holding little Ariane by the hand. My eyes were bright red and my face wet and stained with tears as I ran to wrap my arms around both of them. Ariane seemed confused and a bit annoyed. “What is the fuss?” She must have wondered. “Why was everyone so upset?” In retrospect, I am sure that she thought very little of this whole affair. It seems she had hidden within a cluster of trees before being distracted by a fawn, which she followed into a small clearing, surrounding a pond. The hiding game forgotten and the fawn having escaped, Ariane then began playing in the dirt, which is what she was doing when a servant found her.

This is my memory of it, but my image might be incomplete or skewed. I had thought that the entire household had been in a mad search for her, but it is possible that I was alone in fearing for her safety. I do not think I was wrong, even now. She could easily have slipped and been lost in the pond, or been mauled by a wild animal. “Never let her from your sight again, mother!” I demanded. “We can play these games no longer! Protect her—let no harm come to her again!”

These shouts would continue for several more minutes before my mother finally calmed me. “Look, she is happy and fine right now. Do not worry, Andrew.” Her voice soothed me, as I assumed this meant she would do as I told her. Of course I was being unreasonable; they could not shelter Ariane from every cruel or terrible force in the world. They had very little reason to besides, as my mother was a free-spirited woman driven by love of adventure. She raised her daughter after herself, and although obviously my mother would never want Ariane to be placed in any danger, she wanted to breed exactly this desire for exploration.

As a youth and into her adulthood, Ariane continued to disappear without warning, but after that initial incident, she was always careful to leave a note behind. These notes rarely detailed her whereabouts, but at least they signified that she had left by her own will, and that she would return some time in the near future. There were even occasions when she would offer us a bit of information before she left, like when she first fled to the Auveyr. She was twenty-one then, and we were very accustomed with these antics.

It was at an informal dinner when she first posed an innocent little question. “Davidt, what might I do to merit an increase in my allowance?” She asked our elder brother, as we siblings all took a meal together. This was not the unimaginable request—although her innocent style was certainly unorthodox for a girl above the age of ten—but instead the set-up for an even greater question. That was the way with Ariane, we had quickly learned: she was always testing her boundaries, always saying one thing to prepare for another.

Davidt thought little of it. “You need not do anything. Were something to befall you that might need more money, I would gladly grant it to you.”

“That is logical,” she responded, before shoving a bite of beef into her mouth.

We were all silent for a moment, waiting for Ariane to explain why she had wanted more money. A minute passed and no explanation came. Finally Davidt took her bait, asking: “What suggests the subject?”

She looked up, feigning surprise that he was interested further. “Oh, I thought I might need funds for a move to Sill.” Once again, this thought was punctuated with a bite of food.

Ariane had done her best to act very casual about this, but we were collectively stunned. The rest of us were all married by now, but none of us had left our home at Appero Palace. Even my eldest sister Alix, whose husband was something of a celebrity in the old empire, made her home here with the rest of us.

I knew the game, so I took Ariane’s small steps with her. “What is in Sill?” I asked, adopting her tone, as though we discussed something trivial like the quality of the wine.

“That is precisely what I intend to learn. I have always thought it might be enjoyable to explore the swamps of the southern border.” She affected a dreamy sort of countenance, gazing up and to the right at the fanciful image of Sill that lived in her mind.

My wife Nathia cut in before I had the chance to continue this delicate discourse. “Explore? What sense is that? You are a noblewoman, you have no business exploring!” You will excuse Nathia if she seemed a bit abrupt; under normal circumstances she had the uncanny ability to cut through subtlety or complication. But now, that she was heavily pregnant with our first child, she scarcely had any time for the gentle tug-of-war that had become so common at Masdilt gatherings.

Ariane recoiled slightly, surprised that she had been challenged so openly. “No, I do not intend to don a pair of boots and trudge through the slushy mires as yet untouched by man!” She laughed suddenly, to dismiss the conclusion that she viewed as utterly foolish. “I simply want to experience life in a wilder place; a location virgin to kings and princes that might afford me a glimpse of a simpler life than this.”

Nathia began to shout at her: “Is this not good enough—”

Sensing that Nathia’s approach might lead to unnecessary conflict, Alix cut her off. “That our mother’s ancestors come from that place has nothing to do with it?”

“I suppose it is natural that I should be drawn to the Auveyr for that reason.” Ariane conceded. “However, it is no reason that I have consciously chosen this task or this place for this time in my life. There are forces in me that attract me to do one thing or another. You might call it a sense of adventure but I believe it is best left without assigning a word that will only be partially adequate. I cannot remain still for too long of a time, and I must obey this mighty spirit that is within me.”

I saw Nathia begin to seethe in rage. Knowing that she loathed this romantic description of Ariane’s blatant disobedience of societal norms, I grabbed my wife’s hand to calm her anger.

“Ariane will be Ariane,” Davidt said. He smiled in spite of himself, apparently having given up questioning her for the evening. “I should not be surprised to hear you make this request, so perhaps I should have been considering it for some time now. Give me a while more to think on it and you will have what you need.”

We dropped the subject for what remained of the meal, but Nathia had plenty more thoughts on the matter.

Roosters, Eggs and the Grand Chamber

Meanwhile, the Restoration marched on. Davidt invited us to a formal dinner at Nieburn for a special announcement. We knew it treated in some way with the Emperor—at least, we hoped for something that would explain and reward all the time he had spent away from his family—but he had kept it a secret from all of his siblings until that very evening.

When he said it, however, he did not appear triumphant at all. He seemed neither somber, but one might normally have expected elation with word like this. But he merely raised his glass and proclaimed that it was a great honor for the Masdilts of Allonia, in recognition of their imperial blood, grand ducal status and early loyalty to the Emperor.

Alix was plenty enthusiastic, though. “Grand Chamberlain; that is wonderful news!” She cried, clasping her hands in excitement. “There are no nobles with any such high post!”

We all agreed and offered Davidt our congratulations. Even Nathia seemed pleased, for once glad to be part of such a southern pedigree. Then Adam asked just what authority the Grand Chamber carried. “Explain it for those of us less-experienced in the organization of government,” he requested, attempting to indulge his elder brother-in-law.

“Matters of diplomacy and administration. The Chancellor is the chief legal and spiritual officer, the treasurer controls all matters financial and I handle whatever does not fall therewithin.”

He seemed satisfied with the new position, at the very least. As he had described before, it was more a reward for having supported the Emperor at a critical moment than anything else. The Grand Chamber was a symbol of Imperial gratitude and trust, not some recognition that Davidt was perfect for the post.

It sounded like a terrible burden to me. He appointed all diplomats and selected all imperial governors. These were all subject to the Emperor’s approval, of course, but the idea of taking on such a task seemed needlessly unpleasant. To have to be ready at my sovereign’s hand to solve a diplomatic crisis as I labored meanwhile on land enclosure assents in Lylya bore no appeal.

But Davidt was not the man to worry himself with such things. He was not intimidated by the chore, but instead thought of it as a way to shape both foreign and domestic affairs. His influence would know no bounds, and he would wield considerable authority over every other peer, while holding near-sovereign power in his own grand duchy.

The drawbacks that Davidt perceived were much broader than mine. He confided to me later that week that he would no longer to be able to hold court at the Appero. “I can do nearly all of my duties from the capital,” he told me, “but almost none of them from elsewhere. Before the Emperor receives envoys, I must personally welcome them. There are matters of urgency—diplomatic situations, disputes between governors and local gentry—that all report to Acrola first. I must always be prepared for these. The smaller duties to be carried out in the other corners of the realm can be handled by my deputies, but no one can take my place at court.”

“So then if you must stay here, I suppose we all shall as well. If not a Grand Duke of Allonia, no one can run the Appero.”

This had been a serious concern for my family. Ever since the Restoration we had collectively fretted about those happy times at Enelt. We were in the capital now, but only for the coronation and wedding, alongside other imperial spectacles. Had it occurred to us that events might not continue as they had before, we might never have left the Appero in the first place. We all had visions of many more years at our own court, and until that very conversation with Davidt, I had no reason to believe that these visions were not an impending reality.

“Perhaps you or Davidt shall hold court there,” my brother told me, referring to his elder son. He had increased the speed of his words, likely in an attempt to dismiss this for the monumental news that it was.

“I suppose we could do that. But nothing could be a true Allonian court without you.” I tried to sound supportive, rather than dejected, but my talents are not at behaving otherwise than I feel. I am sure he sensed my disappointment.

But I must apologize for having moved too deeply into a scene too far ahead. For now it should suffice to say that Davidt’s concerns about the Appero’s downfall were valid. He also understood that his strong connection to a particular region would make him an easy target, especially from critics in hostile, distant Lylya. But that is also further head than I intend to go just now, and it should and will be borne out later.

I shall hasten back to Davidt’s initial announcement at Nieburn because of where the conversation turned not too much later. We began discussing other things—as families often will—when Kate asked about the eggs and the rooster once again. “You have not made mention of it since that initial morning, a week ago, and after Ariane recounted Ferand’s ridiculous rumor, I forgot about it entirely. Has the question been satisfied?”

Everyone trained their eyes on me. I tried not to look at Adam, knowing that he would pressure me to invent more lies than I already had. I had given the matter significant thought over the past week. I refused out of hand to believe the story of Joshua’s death. I knew that it was the source of Meline’s warning, but also that it was patently untrue. My mother would not have imprisoned her own young son, leaving him to rot in isolation. I knew she was incapable of it. But what bothered me most of all was that I had no fact to contradict it. My intuition and my memory told me it was wrong, but I had no disagreeing source or piece of information to prove it untrue. This lingering doubt—the conviction that my mother had not done it, without any negative proof thereof—has continued to haunt me from that day to this one.

Did I want to inflict this same somber sensation on my siblings? Was it worth them knowing the truth, no matter how much it might bother them?

“What story is this, Andrew?” Davidt’s wife, Kate de Platir, interrupted my thoughts.

Alix was on her toes, responding before I could. “Some woman at court was apparently warning others that their husbands and children are not safe when the offspring of Katharine Sillhardt are in town. How did she say it, Andrew? ‘Keep your rooster close and your eggs closer?’” She smiled slyly, as both of her sisters giggled at this foggy recollection.

“No,” Ariane interjected. “‘Take caution when a child of Katharine Sillhardt is near, as they prey upon both the rooster and the egg.’ Is it not, Andrew?”

“That is close,” I said. “The exact words were: ‘with the children of Iszmon at court, we should all sleep with one eye open, carefully guarding both our rooster and our eggs.” I shook my head. I had heard and thought so much about roosters and eggs over the past week that I never wanted to eat fowl again.

I studied everyone’s faces carefully. Ariane, Alix, Ferand and Tillenrow appeared confident that they already knew the plot of my story. The two Kates bore interest and curiosity, waiting for an answer that they did not expect to threaten their world views. Davidt was a bit more concerned. Did he know what Adam had said, or did he merely anticipate that the answer was less than savory? Adam, meanwhile, turned despondent. He knew that I would have no choice but announce the real root of this warning to my entire family. Or, rather, I did have a choice, but Adam and I both knew that I would not lie. I could see that he now regretted having told me in first place, as now Kate and everyone else would know what was supposed to be a secret.

The worst countenance of all, however, belonged to my wife. Nathia would surely perceive this as an attack on her; my harkening back to that day at Frontton. Of course, I had not been the one to bring up the subject that night, but I could already hear her shrieking at me nonetheless. “How could you tell all of your family about this? What business is it of theirs, or do you have no aspirations but to embarrass me?” I did not have to wait until tonight to know that I would soon hear these cries.

But I had every right to discuss this story with my siblings. It was about our mother, after all, and it did not even pertain to Nathia. She could not remember Meline and had not been present when I heard the warning. To a woman like Nathia, however, everything was either an act in her favor or an act against her. I can only be grateful that she still had the sense to save her scolds for later, when we found ourselves in private.

After a moment to consider my options, I reported back to my family. “I have learned that it has a deeper, more sinister root than I initially believed. With the permission of my informant, I will gladly explain.”

I had effectively cornered Adam into agreeing, but only after the situation had forced me to do so. If Adam remained silent now, everyone would eventually figure him for my supplier. He realized this, and finally admitted that I must tell the tale, as there was no other option available to us.

So I repeated it all, exactly as Adam had told me. I attempted to be more casual in tone, acting as though the very idea were ridiculous. I was not entirely successful in this, however, because when I concluded, everyone seemed agitated. No one spoke for several moments; a highly unusual occurrence for our very open Allonian family.

Then, abruptly, Alix scoffed. “Yes, I am sure our loving mother did such a thing. Have we not already heard a million such tales before? It has happened since the dawn of time and will continue to happen until the dusk: beautiful, charismatic women in positions of power will always be brutally criticized, even for things they have not done. There were a hundred women who wanted to drag her down and a thousand men who wanted her place. Of course people tried to do whatever they could to discredit and destroy her.”

It was true; mother had always inspired jealous criticism in those around her. We all outwardly accepted Alix’s explanation, but it had come with just too much delay. Clearly, they had all felt just as threatened by the story as I did. We knew our mother was innocent, but it bothered us that the story still described a possible incident.

Adam quickly changed the subject, returning it to Davidt’s appointment. But Joshua must still have weighed heavily on our minds, as it was a new and disturbing topic. I am sure I met some rebuke from Nathia as she and I retired that night, but it has so mingled with her other tantrums as to no longer be distinct in my mind.

Ferand and the Beard

Time would improve the situation with Ferand. After enough teasing from Kate and angry glares from Nathia, he began to sit for a meal or two a week. We all attempted to show him how wrong his belief was, as we had been seated for every meal we had ever taken and were still alive and well. While Ferand has agreed to follow custom for formal dinners, even as of this writing he eats every one of his smaller meals while standing on his poor feet.

Of course, that was not the only point of stark cultural contrast. Ferand was an unusual-looking man with a round face and bright-red cheeks. The mouth that managed his strange accent—-complete with over-rounded, nasal vowels and throaty consonants-—was small and puckered and sat atop a curt but very pronounced little chin. He had the sort of face that needs time to win acceptance, but acceptance was impossible when he first appeared in our lives, and the chin was not even evident. His odd features were exaggerated by a long, unkempt beard that served primarily as a device for catching fallen crumbs or collecting twigs and leaves from the garden.

Beards have long been out of fashion in most parts of Acrola, and both Davidt and I kept our faces clean-shaven. Tillenrow maintained a procession of short hair down the side of his face all the way to his jawbone, but at least this was close-cropped and well-groomed. Ferand’s beard was a sloppy mess of hairs that appeared much more incidental than intentional. We asked Ferand about it and dropped him subtle hints that he should shave it away, but he responded that everyone in the Auveyr had such beards, and he was impervious to our suggestions. One evening, as Ferand was unhappily seated before a serving of duck in the Great Hall at the Appero, Ariane began to tell a story. Ferand turned his face upon his wife, unwittingly un-tucking his beard from its assigned spot, nestled between his chest and the table. After the story had finished, Ferand faced forward again, dragging the thing through his plate of succulent duck and horrifying Nathia in the process. “Shave your chin before you feed on your own fleas!” She screamed.

We were all horribly embarrassed at the scene, and I apologized profusely on behalf of my wife. And then, not three weeks later, Ferand’s beard disappeared without any warning at all, although the incident with Nathia and the duck had nothing to do with it.

“I loathed that beard,” Ariane confided to me, shuddering. “I fell in love with him from the moment I saw him, so I refused to see the hair as a part of him. It was a parasite—a cruel beast that represented the single worst part of his backwardness, refusing to let go. He could have been rid of it had he wanted, but he was too blinded by his culture to eliminate it.”

“A loving perspective if I know one,” I teased.

“I am sorry. I know I sound cruel, but I am allowed one to hate one temporary element of my husband’s appearance, am I not?”

“Very well, I shall not begrudge you that. But then why did you tolerate it for so long?”

“Because I loved him,” she declared eagerly. “And because I refused to marry him until we came to a compromise on it. He has had his turn with the beard and now it is my turn without.”

“That is the compromise? He can keep it for a few months but then he must shave it forever? It sounds like he found the poor side of the deal.”

“No, not exactly. We agreed that he can grow a beard during the first year and last year of our marriage, but he must keep shaven every other year in between. It has now been a year since we were wed, so he took the razor to his face, according to the bargain.”

I smiled and shook my head. These funny little jests were what made Ariane so wonderful. That Ferand had willingly taken part in one indicated that he might have been good enough for her. I knew little of his personality just then, but upon learning about this pact I realized that Ferand would eventually find his place within our family, and we would soon grow to be close friends.

Ferand's first appearances

The very appearance of Ferand at court caused a greater commotion than I have yet seen. He made an initially good impression by way of his height, as he stood several inches above average-sized men like Davidt, Tillenrow and me. It ensured he always attracted attention, although he would have otherwise met little trouble in this. To us he was a strange man with strange ways, including his pronounced variation in manner of eating. He had never encountered a spoon before, which stunned Kate and me.

“Surely they must have soups and stews in the Auveyr!” Kate demanded. Then, sheepishly, she added on a “do they not?”

“Oh yes, of course we have soups!” Ferand laughed. This was always the way; he often had to ask us to explain simple things, like the usage of stockings. But if we ever asked if he was familiar with something, he laughed at how naïve we were to think only we had access to such things.

“Then how do you eat them?” I asked.

“We do not eat them, obviously. Why would you think such a thing?”

“But wait,” I sputtered. “What, then, do you do with them? Why have stews if you will not eat them?”

“To drink them!” He laughed heartily and, after a moment, we all shrugged and chuckled as well. I suppose the lack of spoons and having to drink soups and porridge were the sort of hardships Ariane had suffered in her time away. But to Ferand this was life, and we had complicated it by inventing new utensils and arbitrary rules for eating.

The most curious of all of these rules was the order that one eat while seated. Even to this day, I refuse to believe that every person in all of the Auveyr eats every meal while standing. However, Ferand was consistent for his first three weeks at the Appero in his refusal to chew if not on his feet. “It is unlucky,” he insisted. “The body constantly seeks a state of satisfaction, and to be full of food and still of movement is one such state. Once it attains what it seeks, it has fulfilled its purpose and will cease to live.”

This superstition seemed childish to me, and yet it was we who watched our new brother-in-law with child-like awe. Of course, sharing a table with a standing man offended neurotic Kate’s nerves and rigid Nathia’s manners. Both women insisted that eating in his presence caused them far too much discomfort and that it had to be stopped.

“What would you have him do?” I asked them. “I do not love it either, but he is a man with certain customs, and he cannot shed all of them as soon as he comes to our court.”

“But this is polite society,” Nathia insisted. “For as fickle as Ariane is, I am sure she bothered to inform him that he would have to come live at the Appero, where manners and civilization reign. If he has come here he should learn to adjust to our sensibilities.”

“And perhaps he will. An adjustment is not immediate; rather, it takes time, and I believe Ferand has done his best to make such an adjustment in other aspects.”

“Well if his wife had not been derelict in training politeness in him when they first met, the adjustment might have begun long ago. But I should not be surprised, as Ariane has never placed much stock in manners or the appropriate.”

Seeing that the conversation was becoming negative, or merely because she was in her own world, Kate took a different approach. “Perhaps he can squat over a chair, such that he takes the form of a sitting man, but his buttocks do not come into any contact with it.”

“Oh Kate, I hardly think that poses any sort of solution,” Nathia scolded.

“It certainly is not comfortable and does not lend itself to a state of satisfaction, as Ferand desires. Unless, of course, he has unnaturally strong muscles to his legs. That would certainly make for a fascinating meal to watch!”

This annoyed Nathia, as is to be expected. “It might suffice for him but it does little for us!”

“At the very least it would make him less able to run out of the dining room at a moment’s notice! How am I supposed to eat in peace when someone might suddenly flee from my presence as he drops his hat? It is enough to give me a terrible case of indigestion.”

“That is not the concern. I do not trust a man who places folklorish fallacies before manners. If you are not concerned with either of these you have no place in this conversation.”

Kate did not seem to mind Nathia’s abruptness. “Oh, his superstition concerns me plenty. If he believes that a state of satisfaction is to be avoided at all costs, I worry about how he treats Ariane in their intimate moments!”

This bothered Nathia, however, and she gasped in anger. However, Kate began laughing, and before I noticed my wife’s reaction I had already chimed in. “If he seeks to satisfy her it means he wants her dead; but if he would like her as his wife for many years, he must become intentionally clumsy in his bed!”

Kate and I both began to laugh further, but Nathia would have none of it. “You both clearly hold manners in no high regard, as this is not a topic for appropriate conversation! I will suffer no more of this crass discussion.” With those words she made for the door, and feeling as embarrassed as I suddenly did, I had no choice but to follow slowly after.