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Post by Alain de Mauvais (D) on Apr 5, 2006 15:38:54 GMT -5
I stood just outside the gate, trying not to see the bodies that weren't there anymore. I tore my eyes from the bloodstained stones and looked up at the door.
I was here to see Sylvestre, the only person the Clovis had spoke of with more distaste than me. I could not believe this man was now my sovereign Duc.
I pushed through the gate and walked up to the door, knocking loudly and hoping to rouse the letch from his latest stupor.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 5, 2006 16:16:17 GMT -5
An answer to the door was a long time coming. Finally, Clovis’s butler – clad in travelling clothes – performed the duty.
“Ah, good morning, my lord,” he said, bowing low. “Please forgive the delay. Had I known it was you, I assure you I would have been less tardy. Do come inside, although I’m afraid we are somewhat in uproar here. I presume you are here to see … … his grace?”
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Post by Alain de Mauvais (D) on Apr 5, 2006 16:20:01 GMT -5
"Yes, I am," I told the butler, who by the looks of him wasn't long for his employ here.
"I won't ask you to stay, if you would just tell me where… he… is I will find my way," I told the butler.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 5, 2006 16:23:06 GMT -5
The butler was silent for a moment then a slow smile crept over his face. “He’s on the third floor, my lord. In one of the guest rooms overlooking the garden. I believe his grace is still abed. He had a far from tranquil night.” He bowed again. “Goodbye, my Lord.
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Post by Alain de Mauvais (D) on Apr 5, 2006 16:31:15 GMT -5
"Thank you, and good -bye," I told him, passing him as we went opposite ways through the door.
I refused to look around as I made my way upstairs, knowing I was running the risk of loosing this little bit of control if I did.
I made it to the third floor, and my problem of which room it to go to was solved by virtue of only one closed door. I approached and knocked with the same force I had used on the front door.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 5, 2006 16:41:31 GMT -5
I was sitting up in bed, in the only garment that had I managed to extricate from Betta’s packing, which was the vermillion brocade dressing gown, regarding my reflection in a hand-held mirror with utter despair. Ten years of country living, two days of driving and one utterly wretched evening had conspired to make me an utter ruin of a human being. The gown bleached whatever colour I might have possessed when in happier, healthier times and there were immense dark circles beneath my eyes – in fact, I looked about as dead as the rest of the household.
Suddenly there came a resounding clamouring upon the bedroom door and it says something about the state of my nerves that my first thought was that it was some assassins, come to finish me off. But then I realised that they probably wouldn’t taken the trouble to knock. I quickly shoved the mirror beneath my pillow.
“Who is it?” I called out. “I’m afraid I’m still abed, although I am awake – if it’s important and my informal state isn’t going to give you cause to blush – feel free to come in.”
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Post by Alain de Mauvais (D) on Apr 5, 2006 16:49:15 GMT -5
I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open.
I tried not to let my utter disgust at having to be here show on my face, hopefully I managed enough that he wouldn't notice.
"Good day," I said. "I am Alain de Mauvais." I doubted he would have known me otherwise. "I have come to pay my respects." to the dead, was the part I left unspoken.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 5, 2006 17:01:04 GMT -5
A young man with eyes the same colour as Clovis’s insipid wife strode into the room. I had certainly not been expecting that. I covered my surprise quickly and tried to look as if this was this was the most natural meeting in the world. Mauvais? Mauvais? A cousin? On the wife’s side? I’d grown so tragically rusty at this during my long banishment.
His face was drawn with grief. And he certainly seemed unimpressed to witness yours truly, despite my second best dressing gown. Had Clovis been whispering poison in his ears about Sylvestre de Valmont, that wastrel second cousin who disgraced himself by being the only person in Siovale with any concept of fun? Ah well. All I could do was try.
“Alain de Mauvais?” I repeated, raising politely enquiring brows. “Oh … of course … the black sheep. It was very kind of you to visit so promptly. I’m so sorry I’m in no fit state to receive you. I’m not …” I shook my head, despairingly. “I don’t think I’m in a fit state to face anyone.” I thought about shading my eyes with my hand for a moment but dismissed it as overly dramatic for so early in the morning. “But,” I went on, “you’re not a social caller, are you? You’re family. I’m so glad you came.”
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Post by Alain de Mauvais (D) on Apr 5, 2006 17:11:16 GMT -5
For a moment I almost felt something other that the burden of duty, then it was gone. I could not allow myself to begin to feel that he might be filled with anything other than glee at being out from underneath Clovis's thumb.
"Yes, family," I said, my voice catching as their faces passed through my mind. "As family I have come to offer my aide to you. Have you plans for the burial? I am certain Clovis would want to be buried in Siovale."
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 6, 2006 6:38:28 GMT -5
I was watching him covertly from beneath my lowered lashes. He was too numbed with grief to think of anything at the moment. Had he been more receptive, I might have tried to comfort him – it’s the sort of thing people remember – but he seemed determined to be businesslike, which suited me.
The burial. I had been remiss in not considering it before now. “Yes, the burial,” I said, as if I had already given it some thought. I forced myself to remember Clovis but I could not shake the blood-stained, condemning face that had haunted my dreams. “The family plot,” I said quickly. “Upon the hill, overlooking the estate. I think he would have preferred a quiet ceremony. You know how he was.”
What did I know? But, given his insistence upon tedious dignity, I was probably right. It was so like him. They could drop him off the battlements of the castle for all I cared.
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Post by Alain de Mauvais (D) on Apr 6, 2006 9:00:42 GMT -5
I refused to be drawn in to feeling anything other than detached, I would say what I had to say and leave this place as quickly as possible.
"Yes, the family plot would be the right place. I would like to offer to escort the bodies back to Siovale and arrange for the funeral," I said, unable to keep my eyes from narrowing slightly as I said, "I am sure you have many duties that need attending here in the City."
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 6, 2006 9:17:26 GMT -5
For that alone, I could have kissed the boy soundly – not that he would have thanked me for it, nor would it have quite been in keeping with the air of slightly shaken sorrow I was putting such effort into maintaining. Having just escaped Siovale, I had no wish to return there. Ever again. And travelling was bad enough without having to it with my dead cousin’s family and a young man disposed to glare at me as if I were something particularly loathsome. I wanted to shed my nightmares, not generate more of them.
All the same … nor did I want to give the impression of being too eager. I could celebrate when he was gone. And hopefully he would be as eager to have me accompany him as I was to go. I lowered my eyes.
“I have my cousin’s affairs to put in order, of course. Several matters of a business and personal nature to attend to on his behalf. The house, naturally. But there are some duties of greater weight than others. I should come with you.”
Ye Gods, I even sounded like Clovis. If I had to keep this up for much longer, I was going to vomit again.
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Post by Alain de Mauvais (D) on Apr 6, 2006 9:28:09 GMT -5
I sighed inwardly, hating this dance of false duty. I knew he had no wish to return to Siovale, I had had none on my first escape either.
"I am certain that the duties required of you here in the city will take far too long to wait before attending to the burial. I can see to the arrangements for them in Siovale and have any business of the estate sent to you here, so you do not have to waste time on the road."
"Clovis was a good man, and I loved my cousin and the children. I would be grateful if you would let me do them the honor of seeing to these final arrangements," I said, a catch in my voice.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 6, 2006 9:45:40 GMT -5
Ah, what a delightful dance, I’d forgotten how graceful it could be. And it was giving me everything I wanted. Again, I felt a tremendous surge of goodwill towards the grief-stricken fellow. I slithered out of bed, pulling my robe tightly around me. For a moment I wasn’t entirely sure on what note I wanted to conclude this harsh business. And then I knew. I touched him very lightly upon the arm, my expression sympathetic.
“Then it’s settled,” I said. I was a silent a moment. Hmm. Let him see something like honesty. “Alain, I know there was not much love lost between my cousin and me. And I know I have benefited beyond any wastrel’s wildest dreams from this tragedy. But whether you believe this or not, I would not have wished it and I do not rejoice in it. Throw some wildflowers on Claribel’s grave from her wicked Uncle Sly.”
I turned hastily away. I do believe there might have been tears in my eyes. Occasionally my own performances move me. Bravo.
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Post by Alain de Mauvais (D) on Apr 6, 2006 10:07:58 GMT -5
For just a moment I believed him, then he turned away and I kicked myself for having thought him capable of actually caring about them. Damn him. Perhaps his performance was more convincing on someone less raw with grief. Perhaps I was just too tired to care.
"Thank you for allowing me to see to this," I said, tone even. "I shall let you return to your duties."
I turned and walked out, hurrying but not waiting around either.
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Post by Sylvestre de Valmont(D) on Apr 6, 2006 10:37:03 GMT -5
When I turned back – my eyes still stinging slightly – his own were shuttered and I could have kicked myself. So I’d misplayed this hand. Ah well, I was out of practice and what is one hand in a longer game?
All the same, I felt vaguely … something, as I settled back into bed. A dull knot of … something.
“Betta,” I called, pulling the mirror from its hiding place and scrutinising my drawn, and frowning face.
“Yes, Master Sly? What’s put you all in a mood?”
“I’m not in a mood. There’s a parcel of letters amongst my things. Bring them to me.”
“There are lots of bits of paper in there,” observed Betta, some minutes later, rummaging around in my trunks.
“They’re tied up with a green silk ribbon. They’re from Claribel. They're written in lavender ink.”
With a noise of triumph, she held them aloft.
I had located the awkward feeling. “Actually it doesn’t matter. Take them away and burn them.”
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