“Mistress Julia Valdyr to see you, my lord.”
That corresponded with the letter which had arrived for me. Julia, hmm?
I finished the coffee that left foamy evidence of my sins adorning its perfectly curving wide bowl, rising easily.
“Do show her in, Anton. I’ll meet her in the garden.” I murmured. The children were at their lessons - they were my concern of late since Aethgar was in Cantha with my son and grandson on some sort of expedition.
Hard to imagine little Gareth and Witsy not so little now - teenagers both and such utter Valdyri that it sometimes hurt to see them. Hurt in the most keen and delicious way.
Time had a way of speeding when you least expected it. Lyssa knew there were many more silver threads in my hair now.
Julia Valdyr..
One of the Second House, from Raban’s letter. She ought to likely be assigned to the Landing, with her branch’s lord, but it would be pleasant enough, I supposed, to meet her.
The spring sun was always a blissful delight here in southern Queensdale. The vineyards along the distant hills were being tended by Shadow’s Rest’s curious blend of retired killers-turned-farmers. Aethgar really outdid himself there..
Gorgeous day, really.
The girl approached, wearing - Lyss’s name. She was wearing WHITE. I inwardly sighed. I do hope this isn’t some sort of statement. Young people can be so gauche.
I cupped my hands around a joint of dreamweed - Vabbian today - to forestall my more sardonic tongue escaping my control. If this girl was a typical Second House Valdyri, she was likely far too honest, forthright, and slightly holier-than-thou.
Sorry, Raban, cousin, but it’s true and you know it. We’re all either honest to a fault or as twisty as a corkscrew.
She halted before me as I let the acrid smoke fill my lungs, stealing the air and replacing it with easement.
Through the faint mist I breathed out, she stole my voice.
Six, she reminds me of An.
My daughter Anweena, now Isenhart. Broken-winged creature, guilty serpent twisting in my guts to think of how I used her as a pawn in the wake of her trueborn half sibling’s dreadful choices.
Sane now, but far away, with her Isenhart children and her loving husband Reiner.
This girl looked like An might have if An had been trueborn, aged happily, and not treated so abysmally by her lord father, I suppose.
As the dreamweed smoke cleared and I blinked, I could see how thoroughly she wasn’t An, of course.
Her eyes weren’t huge and vulnerable, like a doe poised to flee, though they were rather entrancing. She was lovely - we all are, we’re Lyss’s blessed family - but actually she didn’t have much in common with my legitimized bastard daughter with the long dead Roweena.
“Julia, delightful to meet you.”
She knew how to greet me at least. She bobbed into a curtsy, though it was leavened by an awkwardness I could easily read. She hadn’t interacted with nobility in some time.
I may not be Aethgar but the Six know I’ve done more than my share of gathering intelligence, so I’d poked around when I got her letter. So I knew the little I needed to.
She’d been posted to Bjora, was a member of the Vigil - such a Second House thing to do - and had recently finished her deployment.
“And you my Lord Valdyr.”
She had a sort of husky voice. Rather nice, that.
And quite brilliant eyes. Like a cat’s, now that I looked at them and drove Anweena’s face from my thoughts.
No, she really isn’t at all like Anweena, this girl..
“Walk with me, Julia.” I murmured, and stepped between the hedgerows. The twittering of excited birds was a happy hymn to Dwayna’s life and Melandru’s waking around us.
In that exceedingly unfashionable white, she fell into line beside me. By her ease of motion and the way she didn’t simply plod along, she was a ranger by training. Good. Nothing more annoying than the habit of most soldiers to try and grind gravel out of every stone they stomp over.
“How do you like Kryta? I understand you were posted in the north.” I commented, offering another cloud of my favourite smoke to the departed Six.
“I.. uh. It was.. bracing, my lord. I’m.. rather at loose ends right now, actually.” She explained, looking around as she walked. Clever girl.
“.. um. yes. It’s strange being back in a city after Bjora, truthfully.”
I could well imagine. Vryce had gone up there for a time and told me stories that made me rather glad to be caring for grandchildren and children and visiting Elona rather often!
We walked and spoke for nigh on an hour. She told me some things about her posting, and the final defeat of Jormag, which it seemed she’d been part of. Her preference for white made more sense now, given two years in a snowy hellscape.
Really though, we’d have to get her into proper Valdyr colours.
She has some contacts in the city already, it seems. I’ll have to have them investigated.
And then see what my cousin is up to. Raban might be interested by all of this.
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