Date: 10-8-164

  Today was church day, but that was hardly the most interesting thing about it. Nadine stayed at the estate while Olrick and I attended. I considered paying Jacque a visit in his classroom, but very quickly dismissed the idea—the man was slowly giving me an ulcer, and I didn’t know if there were any treatments for such a condition in this world.

  On the way back, we took a detour to what appeared to be a shopping boulevard. From its position a quarter of the way up the hill, I imagined it to be moderately affluent. Our carriage came to a stop outside a wide glass storefront featuring a variety of shimmering outfits on lifelike stone statues.

  With a conspiratorial grin, Olrick led me by the elbow into the shop. “Maddie,” he called out as he entered. “I’m here for my special order.”

  A woman poked her head out from the maze of cloth that filled the store. She had the same round nose and clay hair as Olrick, though it was perhaps not so thin. “[This is?] the girl you told me [about]?” She had a clipped way of speaking, shortening and contracting words that I thought I’d mastered days ago. I had only recently noticed a dialectical difference between how Olrick speaks and how Nadine and Jacque speak, and it seemed this shopkeep was speaking in an even more extreme version of Olrick’s accent.

  “Maddie, this is Why,” Olrick said, pushing me in front of him as if presenting me. “Why, meet Madelin—my sister.”

  “Why, like the question?” Madelin asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “It is a pleasure.”

  (Did I mention this yet, Soong? My surname is a homonym for the word “why” in their language. I believe yours also has a double meaning, though I’m unclear on the precise meaning—it is often used to get someone’s attention.)

  She perked up a little. “[Where did?] you find this one, Ollie? The [???]?”

  Olrick gave me a thoughtful look. “Maybe…?” He shook his head. “Nah, probably not. Much as I’d love to [talk? visit?], the [wife will?] be expecting me back real quick.”

  Without another word, Madelin pointed her finger towards the rear of the shop, then disappeared behind the wall of fabric. I hurried after her, and soon I was standing before a mirror while she took my measurements with a thin strip of cloth.

  “You any good with Lecosian [style/fashion]?” she asked as she took down a note.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  She leaned back and shouted, “Better let Nade know you’ll be late.”

  ***

  Lecosian fashion, as it happens, is much more straightforward than what I’ve been wearing since I arrived in Valhold. Or rather, it’s more familiar: Madelin had prepared for me a blue robe with fabric like spun sapphires. A second length of fabric, this one like topaz and ruby swirled together to look like a rolling flame, draped over my shoulder. After she was confident that I had grasped the fundamentals of dressing myself, she packed the robe away in a box and told me to take care of it because she was expecting its return in a few days.

  After a brief but spirited farewell, Olrick took me back to the estate. He asked me to get dressed in my room and then stay there until I received his signal. He wouldn’t elaborate when pressed, but from his impish grin it was clear he was up to some mischief. As he had been my chief advocate in this strange land, I decided to go along with whatever he was planning.

  I’m still not certain if that was the right choice.

  I continued my work refining my language spell for a couple of hours. After a time, I began to hear faint voices from the other end of the house—just a few at first, but more and more as the afternoon turned toward evening.

  At last, there was a knock on my door, and then Olrick pushed it open. He wore his usual outfit from church, though over his tunic he had a silver overcoat that reminded me of his naval uniform. Several medals were fixed to the breast of the coat, perhaps indicating rank or accolades he had earned as a captain.

  “They’re ready for you,” he said, barely containing his excitement. His eyes drifted to my hands, and he stepped forward. “Excuse me.” He gently took my wrist and repositioned my right hand so that it was hidden under the fabric draped over my shoulder. “Just move that hand, under there. Okay?”

  I nodded. Of course I’d noticed others stealing glances at my hands as I cast my language spell, but, aside from Jacque, no one had ever seemed too bothered. My casting had evidently been more conspicuous than I realized.

  He led me down the hall to the sitting room. Most of the furniture had been cleared away, and the room was crowded with well-dressed men and women sipping from crystal glasses. He cleared his throat, and the group turned to look at us.

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  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, affecting the precise enunciation used by Nadine, “may I present to you Lady Why Shawl-lean, the [mysterious] [???] of the sea.”

  A subdued applause filled the room as the gathered individuals fixated on me with leering curiosity. Olrick’s plan came into clear focus then: these people were part of that upper echelon of society that could buoy me up to a meeting with House Valia. This was my opportunity to make a dazzling impression. I took a steadying breath and pushed aside any discomfort I found under the crowd’s intense scrutiny.

  Nadine caught my eye, and I felt drawn to her familiar presence. But then I noticed her expression: lips pressed into a thin line as she glared at her husband. Before I could decide what to do, I was intercepted.

  “Lady Why!” He was a mustachioed man in steel-blue robes. “Let’s take a look at you. A most [creative? unique?] name; is it an [epithet]?”

  “Oh, thank you, it is very nice for you to say that,” I replied, giving him the brightest smile I could muster. “But what is it mean, [epithet]?”

  “A name you’ve chosen for yourself.” The man gave a curious look to the silver-haired woman who had joined him; she was dressed in a prismatic pants suit. “And that is a singular accent. You’re from the sea, is it?”

  “Don’t be silly, Doctor Dupon,” the woman cut in. “Look at how tall she is. She must be a [Marsher???], no?”

  “I must be?” I glanced down at myself, trying to determine what it was that made me look like a “Marsher”—not that I knew what a Marsher was.

  “Oh, is that not what you call yourselves?” she said, having already decided that she knew my exact measure. “You’ve come from across the mountains, no? From the [marshes], where only [savages] dare live. Good for you, making it all the way to civilization.”

  I had no idea what I should say to such a thing, but I refused to be anything but utterly charming. So I mustered the most clever, winning response I could think of in the moment: “Um.”

  “She is no Marsher.” A second man approached, smiling at me with red lips on a cadaverously pale face. If Jacque reminded me of a hawk, this man was reminiscent of a leech. He held out a hand, which I awkwardly shook with my left. “Benjam Siltstrom. I believe we go to the same church.”

  “Oh, oh,” I intelligently replied. “You are friends of Olrick?”

  “My friend, actually,” Nadine interjected, smiling a small bright smile that had a certain cutting quality to it. “This little [gathering/get-together] is for my [colleagues].” She turned her smile on me, threatening to slice me in half. “Olrick didn’t mention that you’d be [attending].”

  “A surprise guest? Marvelous!” Siltstrom clapped his hands together, causing the clear liquid in his glass to splash perilously close to the rim. “May I just say that I am [touched??], Doctor Seaborne, that you call me your friend. I had [assumed] we were [bitter rivals], considering that I am the man to beat for the Lord [Governor’s] [patronage].” He let out what might have been a good-humored laugh, but something about it made me feel rather ill.

  He leaned in to get a closer look at me. “Now, just look at those eyes…” He pointed to my wrap. “And the flame [pattern?]. That cannot be a [coincidence??], can it?”

  The mustachioed man sniffed noncommittally, but the silver-haired woman let out a sharp gasp. “No, certainly not!” She tallied up some figures on her finger. “She isn’t the right age for it… Unless…”

  “Why, would you mind helping me in the kitchen?” Nadine’s voice was high and strained. As curious as I was to know what, exactly, I was the right age for, Siltstrom and the others were a bit much for me at that moment.

  Nadine pulled me away. In the kitchen, two women were busy preparing a variety of dishes.

  “You want to talk,” I said simply. Nadine checked over her shoulder as though to make sure we weren’t followed.

  “You don’t have to be in there,” she said slowly, taking great care to choose simple words. “They are not nice people. You can have dinner in your room and study.”

  I schooled my expression into one of passive serenity. So, Olrick had neglected to include Nadine in his scheme, and now she was working against it. Her pretense of concern did not endear her to me.

  “You don’t want me being in there?” I asked, keeping the anger from my voice.

  She frowned. “Olrick means well. He thinks he is helping. But I don’t want to take advantage—that means use you in a bad way—and the people here can be…[???].” She quickly added, “They don’t always think of what other people want or need. [Inconsiderate].”

  “I see.” I watched her for a long moment, trying to divine the words that would turn her to my side. “But maybe Olrick is made a good point? If people show interested in me, it is also helpful for you. It makes you stand out and get attention from Lord Valia, yes?”

  “You don’t understand…” She glanced at the two cooks, who were doing their best to pretend we weren’t there. “I’m just going to ask. You aren’t the [child? grandchild?] of [Arix], are you?”

  “What is [Arix]?”

  “Of course you aren’t.” She shook her head. “House Arix—they are another Great House, like Valia. Old [King] Arix died many years ago. Maybe you’ve seen the image of their [great ancestor] at church, up on the wall? You look like him.”

  Perhaps you recall that I described just such a figure after my first visit to the church. The man almost looked like someone from our realm, but I assure you, there was no actual resemblance.

  “I am not Arix.”

  “I know.” She searched my face with her eyes. “Some people will believe anything if it’s interesting. But that’s impossible. I wish you would tell us who you really are, but I don’t think you mean us any harm. So…”

  She sighed and turned away from me.

  “This dinner is very important,” Nadine said. “I will have food sent to your room. Do not come out again this evening. We can talk about what we will do with you later.”

  ***

  Does she truly believe she’s helping me? She claimed that she was looking out for my best interests—behind closed doors, no less—and yet Nadine and her husband are at odds as to what that looks like. Regardless of what she might say, I am left with the distinct impression that she would sooner rid herself of my presence.

  She may have even been correct in her evaluation of her party guests. They had descended upon me like a pack of starving dogs, eager to tear at me for some scrap of gossip or intrigue, and I was ill-prepared to turn their attention to my advantage. But surely I could have found a way, had she not interrupted?

  I feel as though I’m making no real progress towards reuniting with you. Olrick has been my only ally in this endeavor, and any headway he makes is promptly curtailed by his wife. I’m beginning to wonder if I would be better off striking out on my own.

  But then I truly would be alone, and I don’t know if I have the strength to save you by myself.