Post by Felix de Thoire (I) on Oct 18, 2007 1:09:43 GMT -5
I measured the time, as most in the City did, by fetes and celebrations; and so when I emerged restless from weeks of convalescence, I inquired first about general social news. It was less than a week after the L'Envers wedding, William told me, his voice only bearing a hint of disapproval at my lack of attendance.
I nodded, feeling a pang of regret myself; I'd wasted time wallowing in self-pity, and the fact that I had nothing else to do with my time soothed the pain not a whit.
At breakfast and dinner I was attended kindly by surprised servants. It occurred to me that I had only four people in my employ--steward, housekeeper, guard, and cook; yet I knew only William by name. I swallowed my shame and asked humbly for reintroduction to each.
If no other good had come of my prolonged seclusion, I was at least more comfortable with the absence of my arm. I rarely reached for an object or person mistakenly with my right hand, withdrawing it with a shudder when I realized there was no hand to reach with. Writing, bathing, and the more involved methods of eating with utensils still gave me pause, but each fresh trial was now no more than a minor obstacle in my mind.
This gave me hope. That evening, I left the house to experience what I'd never dared consider as a real possibility before: the Night Court.
As a youngster I'd been regaled with stories of the adepts, skilled and educated in the service of Namaah; I'd crafted little fantasies, as all of us living the restrictive military life did. I'd stopped this mental drivel when I outgrew my adolescence and was given my first command. There were two or three lesser servants of Namaah I'd encountered over the years, if I may call them lesser; they were no less reverent servants than a Night Court adept, but they were, of course, less able, held to lower physical standards. Each time was pleasant, of course, but cramped in a tent during the anxious night before battle, it was never the elysium of my imagination.
This day, that of my first Night Court excursion, I thought long and hard on which house to visit. Eventually, I decided that Heliotrope House suited my fancy. My heart fluttered even as I made the decision objectively, and I was hard pressed to keep my pace from becoming rapid, excited and nervous.
It was almost surreal.
I nodded, feeling a pang of regret myself; I'd wasted time wallowing in self-pity, and the fact that I had nothing else to do with my time soothed the pain not a whit.
At breakfast and dinner I was attended kindly by surprised servants. It occurred to me that I had only four people in my employ--steward, housekeeper, guard, and cook; yet I knew only William by name. I swallowed my shame and asked humbly for reintroduction to each.
If no other good had come of my prolonged seclusion, I was at least more comfortable with the absence of my arm. I rarely reached for an object or person mistakenly with my right hand, withdrawing it with a shudder when I realized there was no hand to reach with. Writing, bathing, and the more involved methods of eating with utensils still gave me pause, but each fresh trial was now no more than a minor obstacle in my mind.
This gave me hope. That evening, I left the house to experience what I'd never dared consider as a real possibility before: the Night Court.
As a youngster I'd been regaled with stories of the adepts, skilled and educated in the service of Namaah; I'd crafted little fantasies, as all of us living the restrictive military life did. I'd stopped this mental drivel when I outgrew my adolescence and was given my first command. There were two or three lesser servants of Namaah I'd encountered over the years, if I may call them lesser; they were no less reverent servants than a Night Court adept, but they were, of course, less able, held to lower physical standards. Each time was pleasant, of course, but cramped in a tent during the anxious night before battle, it was never the elysium of my imagination.
This day, that of my first Night Court excursion, I thought long and hard on which house to visit. Eventually, I decided that Heliotrope House suited my fancy. My heart fluttered even as I made the decision objectively, and I was hard pressed to keep my pace from becoming rapid, excited and nervous.
It was almost surreal.