“Longcastle and your seat on the coucil, I assure you, are eternally safe under Queen Lynessa,” replied Avelina with a broad smile, carried away picturing her daughter on the imperial seat, crowned as her ancestors had been crowned before her, at last arising from the belittling circumstances into which she’d been thrust, overcoming the obstacles her thoughtless father had hurled her way - bastard siblings, thoughtless flights, ah yes, a waste of flesh that man had been but he’d contributed three beautiful things to this world and, for that, his name might well be remembered to history.
She tilted her head, thoughtfully. “Oh, yes,” she said with a smile. She might have expected such a thing from an upstart such as he, but then, he supposed he had earned this. The House of Massard had a not disagreeable ring to it, Avelina decided. “It is well met that this should be so.” If it were possible earn nobility (something royal Avelina secretly doubted), Dmitrei would certainly have done enough to do so by the time they were through. What more noble goal was there than the elevation of Lynessa to her rightful throne? “A most becoming thing that shall be,” she replied, happy to barter this little title for a crown.
“Have you selected a motto? Or a sigil?” She paused, thinking of those as-yet unclaimed creatures: stags and falcons and slender elms leapt up before her eyes. And words…Words are Wind, she thought, slyly, thinking it was a phrase that would most become Dmitrei of House Massard. “Longcastle shall be a most magnificent seat,” she began. “But as a Lord, I imagine you shall desire more lands the revenues that come with them. You are from the South,” she began, thoughtfully. “And it occurs to me that there are the lands of an extinct House quite close to you. How would you fancy a claim to the titles and properties of House Meriet?” inquired Avelina, businesslike.
Of course, the lands of extinct Houses were usually forfeit to the crown or to the local Wardens, or else to some very distant relation on the other side of a family, but once Lynessa was Queen, it should be no bother to take what House Mortain or anyone else might wish to claim. What she did not know was the irony of offering a man what was already, in truth, his to begin with.
Avelina tilted her head. It was all well and good to create a title as ruler, but even so she imagined he would want a noble bride to further legitimize his claim to a title, or else a very wealthy one to gild it. Dmitrei had said he could handle this on his own, but Avelina - unaware of his true intentions - saw an opportunity. Her daughters were the best bargaining chips of all, but once they were all wed, and she herself as well, and Dmitrei was heading for a title all his own, a bride of his might ensure the security of further alliance. Fortunately, his sister was the mother of the current Warden of the South, which would also be…useful to their cause.
“Of course, I’ve no doubts of your capacity for conquests,” assured Avelina with a wave of her hand. “But I do not mis-imagine that a word from Lynessa or myself might prove…helpful even to you. Do you have already a bride in mind? If not, I might direct your attentions to Rosemund Bordel or Adelaide Castillon, both pretty and healthy young girls with a fortune all their own.” Avelina paused, thoughtfully carding her fingers together.
“If more than fortune you prefer a bride with whose exulted bloodline to mingle your own, there is Elyzabeth Fontaine who, I daresay, sports one of finest pedigrees in all of Aragoth and must be, by now, in desperate want of a husband, or Sybil Grancourt or Gresilda Wystan who need only a strong husband to tame them. There is also Alia Stafford, renowned as one of the greatest beauties of Aragoth, who is in need of a husband to give her a home of her own. Not to mention, their are Staffords everywhere…which could prove equally helpful and burdensome,” she remarked. “Eloisa Vipont is also a very fine young woman and has the virtue of being in the East, even now, should you wish to form an acquaintance. Wilmetta Vymont might also suit your needs and desires,” she pointed out. “Being Southern, she shares your cultural background and her family has lately been exulted by a connection to the crown which might prove to your liking.”
Though, of course, that particular link had been severed forever, when Rowena had murdered Aalis Vymont. Not that it made any difference, anyway. Avelina discounted all Godiva claims as false.
“Yes,” cooed Avelina, thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chalice. “I do believe a trip to the West may be just the thing at this juncture.” She laughed. “Normand, the fool,” she commented, dismissively. He might well cause trouble, but Avelina agreed with Dmitrei on this point: he would come to nothing. She did not see that this very chaos might create unforeseen opportunities, rather viewing him as yet another mistaken creation of the gods. “The youngest son should prove the easiest to sort out. I believe he is, even now, in the East, as he was here in the service of Jon Valles. Perhaps I should arrange some sort of meeting,” she mused. “As for his loyalty…I shall advise Lynessa to be at her most charming towards him. It would not do to alienate him now.”
Avelina shrugged softly. “It is a puzzle I cannot begin to answer,” she said in allusion to Remon Vipont’s leanings. “And we could, of course, question Adela, but in truth I doubt she has the wits to know much on that score, herself, however much interaction the pair may have had by now.”
She paused. “Have you been to the West ere now, my Lord Massard?” she inquired. As a girl, before her marriage, Avelina had taken a tour of much of Aragoth alongside her sister the Queen and her Godiva king. It had been a mission of showing and displaying the peace of their two royal Houses.
It had proved a pointless campaign. This, Avelina thought, would not be such a folly.
“We must invent some pretext to send you there and dismiss you, for that period, from Rowena’s council. Have you any notion on the subject?”
“I am pleased to hear it,” He replied, nodding. He doubted that his loyalty would be met with a loss in his status, but he still felt the need to address it, as he was pledging his loyalty to to Avelina Beaumont and her daughter who were both willing to eliminate their own (innocent) family in order to obtain their goals. Not that he was truly concerned about losing in a game played against them. If they wished to take something from him, even with all of their power and influence, he was sure that they would lose.
He was, however, happy to see that she also so easily agreed to his request to make House Massard a noble house. He’d been a lord once, in another life, and he meant to be one, again, on his way to being King. “I confess that I have not given it much thought but ... I must say, the idea of claiming the titles and properties of House Meriet is rather appealing. I have little desire to return to the south, at present, but having a claim there, too, would please me.”
When she first suggested it, he wanted to laugh. He knew she had no way of knowing (or even suspecting) that what she was offering to him now, was already his, by right’s.
“By Virtue and Merit,” He said, repeating the words of his old house. Words neither he, nor his father, chose to live by. Ironics words for a new house that would be built on deception and won by throwing in his support with traitors. He couldn’t have planned it better himself. “Fitting for a noble house with me at its head.” He added, giving her a rather mischievous smile. Even she knew his character well enough to know that he was not above doing underhanded things to achieve his goals.
One had to be, to be a part of this. (If you wished to make it out alive).
“My lady offers many fine suggestions ... how am I to choose?” in truth, Dmitrei had no intention of marrying any of them. Only Alia Stafford held any real appeal as it would only take a conveniently timed accident to remove her brother from his seat in the North and then he could make a claim in her name. But he had his sights set on a much higher prize: if not Lynessa herself than her Arrington cousin, Cordelia would do. He had no current intention of throwing his glance elsewhere.
But it was not the time to voice any of this. “I will take all you have said on this into consideration, but at the present time, there are more pressing matters to attend to. Once Lynessa is crowned, then I saw chose a bride.”
He was thankful when the conversation turned to the situation in the West. “I have never had the opportunity,” He said. This was a lie. He’d passed through there on his way to first coming to the East. It had been an indirect route, but he was less likely to be discovered taking that road. He and Harrion had often adventured up the eastern coast. He would not risk even some common pesant recalling having seen him. For him to be successful in the East, everyone must think that he was dead.
“After her uncle’s demise, the Queen will reclaim Raimbeaucourt ... perhaps I can persuade her to allow me to oversee the transition of ownership? As I’m sure you shall agree, whomever the Duke had appointed as steward is unequal to the task. I hope the Queen should trust my judgement enough to find someone in that region who is more suitable to the task?”
