Amantius sat curled up on a divan, a box of venom-filled chocolates within easy reach. He held an ormolu tray in his lap, which was full of calling cards, and he was delicately sifting through them with his talons.
âNo, too common. Common, common⊠that one was allergic to roses and never wrote back. Bernard has his paws on that one⊠is this really all there is?â He sighed, and reached for a chocolate, popping it into his mouth.
Yesterday, his adorable researcher had told him under no uncertain terms was he to speak to her again. And now, the charming, gregarious Amantius found his schedule for the next week depressingly full of empty spots. Bernard had insinuated that Amantius was âlosing his touch,â but that was nonsense. No matter how charming he was, he couldnât account for human fickleness, after all.
He pawed through the calling cards one more time, and his gaze fell on the image of a thorny vine winding around a name and address, with a Latin motto below. One word; Infragilis.
âOh! Itâs you!â Amantius laughed, holding the card up between his talons. âAnd to think, I nearly forgot about you.â
Ever the optimist, Amantius stood, went to his desk, and found some stationary. He sat down, and began to compose a letter.
I recall that last we spoke, I mentioned Christmas and the New Year. It is unfortunate that I could not invite you to one of the Embassyâs celebrations, but I trust that you had a merry time with your friends and loved ones. And I hope that you did all the things that make you happiest, the best to bring in a New Year full of more of the same.
The days are still cold, and London still smells of lacre. Yet February is upon us, and, traditionally, spring follows. I look forward to visiting the flower sellers at this time of year. The paper craft that the children sell on street corners is very lovely and fine in its own right, but nothing can exactly imitate the fresh scent of Surface flowers.
Amantius paused, and looked around the room. There was a vase full of red roses on a nearby end table. He considered them.
Therefore I hope you find these rosesÂ
But no. Red roses? Red might send the wrong message, at this stage. He might have to stop by the flower shop before mailing this letter.
He crumpled up the letter, and started over.
Therefore I hope you find these flowers welcome, and I hope they find you in good health. Everyone should have a little piece of spring, no matter the distance from the Surface.
You were very welcome company at the devilessâs salon. Indeed, meeting you was the highlight of an otherwise rather depressing afternoon. Iâm certainly glad I left before I had to hear you-know-who publicly roast some poor, unassuming individual. Did you ever get to the bottom of that incredible rumor? (The one about Salomeâs soul.) If so, I would be glad to hear what you found. If not, I would be equally glad to hear from you all the same. I found your conversation refreshing and honest, something that is sadly missing in most drawing rooms these days. Perhaps we can talk again sometime. I would love to hear your opinions about the latest play in Veilgarden.
With relish, he folded the letter into an envelope, and sealed it with his special seal. Then he rang a little bell, calling in a servant. He gave her precise instructions about which flower shop to visit, which name to drop, and what flowers to buy, and then sent her on her way.
That same day, the letter arrived for Casey, accompanied by a small bouquet of yellow irises.