[Backstory] Uninvited Guests

[Felicien Clermont-Montmorency]

I arrived at the Trevalion townhouse with a mere twenty six hat boxes and thirteen trunks (four of which belonged to Mr Woofles Woofington III). I had not precisely been invited, but then I can’t remember the last time I was precisely invited anywhere. Over my last few years in the city I had rather perfected the art of turning up as if welcome and staying until explicitly – and one, memorable occasion physically – removed.

I’d never met Noemi, which was probably why she hadn’t ordered her doors barred against my arrival. From the rumours I’d picked up, she was a sweet-tempered, open-hearted, rather naïve girl. In short: Mr Woofles Woofington III and I were likely set for a while, which good because I'd been living from pillar to post recently and the press was suffering for it.

I climbed down into the street, glancing with rather jaded eyes at the imposing façade before me. The gulf in this city between the lives of the wealthy and the lives of the impoverished is sickeningly vast. But, conscious of possible observation, I school my expression into vacancy. What would Felicien de Clermont-Montmorency know, or care, about lives other than his own, after all?

Leaving Fouinon to deal with the luggage, I settled Mr Woofles Woofington III more firmly in my arms, minced up to the front door and jangled the bell far too long and loudly for courtesy. A butler hastily admitted me into the entrance hall, his welcome rather chilly.

It was about to get chillier.

“La,” I trilled, “poor Mr Woofles’ nerves are frayed to ribbons.” Addressing the dog, holding him nose to nose, I crooned: “He’s such a sensitive soul, aren’t you Mr Woofles? Yes you are.” And then to the butler who was having trouble keeping the expression of horror from his face. “He’s not a good traveler, I’m afraid. Do be a good fellow and take him for me. He needs comfort, poor lambkin. Comfort him, will you?”

I managed to pass the dog to the astonished butler just in time. As if on cue: Mr Woofles Woofington III was spectacularly sick. Everywhere.

[Noemi de Trevalion]

The sound of the doorbell drew my attention from Minette and the small silver tabby immediately attacked the still bit of ribbon I'd been dangling before her earlier, almost catching my fingers though luck was with me for the moment. Besides, the doorbell was more important. Who could it be? My friends generally didn't make so much of a fuss and I wasn't expecting anything official- was it bad news then? Something from the front about my sister or brother? Maybe things were over and we just hadn't heard, and now they were home!

Standing up quickly I smoothed the folds of the sea green dress I was wearing with its lavender embroidery, scooped up the still somewhat-protesting kitten and started for the stairwell down from my suite of rooms. There was a good bit of stairs between the front door and myself but I took them at a quick pace, my bare feet making almost no sound against the marble floors or the intersperced carpets.

On arriving in the foyer I was met with an image of almost complete chaos. A man I didn't know but was close to my own age and seemed very brightly dressed was handing over a small dog covered in ribbons to poor Leonard who looked very confused indeed just in time for the poor creature to be terribly ill. Already Minette was trying to claw her way out of my arms and I gently set her down as I came closer and reached out to touch the small, white canine he turned slightly and snarled at me. But then who's in their best spirits when they're sick?

"It's alright, I'll take him and you go clean up," I told Leonard with a smile as I gently took the wriggling thing and held it, head facing outward so that at least it would have to work to nip at me. At first Leonard looked a little uncomfortable with the idea, as though he were worried, but I just nodded confidently and he went on his way, back toward the servant's quarters. He really was very nice and I hoped he wouldn't be too upset at me interrupting his work

With that taken care of and my mind completely distracted from the sad thought that neither of my siblings were home by the new face I gave the visitor another brighter smile. After all he was still a guest and having someone new to talk to always raised my spirits, even if he was just stopping by or lost. "Hello. I'm Noemi de Trevalion, could I possibly have your name?"

[Felicien Clermont-Montmorency]

My Trevalion “cousin” was strikingly lovely, with the usual pale eyes and fair hair our barely-connected family doesn't even remotely share, and she seemed extraordinarily happy to see me. Her smile was so uninhibitedly warm that I genuinely thought for a moment she was addressing someone else who had somehow come in behind me. I turned to check over my shoulder, before remembering that Felicien is utterly oblivious, so I took the opportunity to knock over, and smash to smithereens, an ornamental vase that looked as though it might be valuable.

Cover as a complete fool thus re-established, I tippy-tapped down on the hall on my ridiculous shoes and dramatically air-kissed Noemi on both cheeks. “Darling Nomnom!” I exclaimed. “You're looking fabulous. Lavender is going to be huge this summer, trust me, I know. And a La Serenissimian cut never goes out of fashion. I love what you've done with your hair. Au naturel. Very brave, darling, very brave, but if anyone can carry it, you can. It's so nouveau-peasant.”

I paused, for both breath and inspiration. There's only so much meaningless crap even I can find to say about clothes. But then, thankfully, I caught sight of her bare toes peeping from beneath the hem of her dress.

“Oh, that's very modern,” I said, pointing as if “feet” were an alien concept to me, and pulling a dubious face. “I'm really not sure, daring.” Then I started, as if suddenly remembering something. “La, did you ask me a question, Nomnom? I've clean forgotten. Now where has Mr Woofles got to?”

I spotted him, covered in vomit and yapping spitefully from Noemi's arms. I'd have felt almost sorry for him if I could stand the horrific little beast. I certainly felt sorry for her. From beneath my lashes, I stole a quick glance at her, to see if she was bored of me yet.

[Noemi de Trevalion]

There was a crash of glass and I watched as a vase shattered, sending Minette dashing from the foyer on her four feet, her tail a bottle-brush, and the dog I was holding yipped and snarled before grabbing onto my arm with his sharp, tiny teeth. I managed to pull my sleeve free without any more than a brief grimace and made a note to keep anything that he could get between his teeth well away from his face. Maybe he was uncomfortable from being ill and all of the ribbons he'd been tied up in but the dog certainly wasn't going to give me any leeway at the moment.

My attention went quickly back to the man as he stepped foward and started to speak, my grin growing somewhat at his nickname just as I surpressed a giggle and returned his air-kiss affectionately. Perhaps it was silly of me but his antics were somewhat amusing, and while I knew that it probably wasn't really the product of a completely sane mind I wasn't thinking of anything worrisome either. He seemed light-hearted enough for all of the chatter and while he still hadn't answered my question at least he wasn't growling at me the way his pet was. That's how affection worked sometimes though; the ones you loved didn't always make it easy.

When he pointed at my feet I gave him a wink and wiggled my toes slightly, then looked back over at him as he peeked at me from beneath his lashes. "I don't think I've ever had a nickname like Nomnom before," I told him cheerfully. "But now I need something to call you, if you don't mind. I know your dog is Mr. Wuffles, but shall I guess your name? I'm not so sure I'd be very good at it, perhaps it will be easier if you just tell me."

[Felicien Clermont-Montmorency]

It crossed my mind that Noemi de Trevalion might be madder than I am. Any sane person would have objected to … well … everything. Especially “Nomnom” which had come to me in a flash of cruel inspiration in the carriage, when Mr Woofles had tried to eat the hot brick. I cast a startled look at her, filled with a wild suspicion that she was some kind of subtle mastermind and was playing a twisted of game with me.
“Oh look,” I said, playing for time, while I tried to work if she was just plain nice. “That horrid creature has run away. I'm so glad for poor, sensitive darling Mr Woofles is terrified of them. And who can blame him.” This, at least, is true and out of a sense of solidarity Felicien also professes to hate cats. If I had energy to spare to be interested in animals I think I could rather like them. Cats are graceful, self-assured beasts.
“And that's Woofles, by the way, with a woo,” I babbled on, cheerfully, “Most assuredly not with a vulgar 'u'. He does hate it if people don't get his name right. It's terribly rude, you know, Nomnom but I'm sure he'll forgive you. I can already tell you're going to be the bestest bestest friends. He has a wonderfully affectionate disposition.”
Mr Woofles was hanging limply in her arms like a wrung-out dishcloth, occasionally attempting to bite the empty air. For him, that was remarkably friendly.
I flung my hands into the air, my coat sleeve catching another, smaller vase resting on a nearby cabinet, and dragging it to the floor with another musical crash. “Ah, my name! I knew I was forgetting something. I'm one of the de Clermont-Montmorency's. Felicien Camille Clermont-Montmorency. Your fifth cousin's second wife's mother in law's third cousin twice removed! Why, we're practically siblings!” I grinned manically at her. “I've come to stay with you because of our extraordinary family connection! Isn't it splendiferous?!”

[Noemi de Trevalion]

There was a moment when my guest seemed surprised, but I was so busy concentrating on keeping my fingers from the small dog's reach that I might have been mistaken. What could be that surprising about someone acting hospitable and polite? Likely I'd just mistaken something else; I was nowhere near as clever with people as Victoire was, but she wasn't here so I would have to do my best in her stead.

Then mention of a 'horrid creature' made me look around in confusion for a moment, only to notice he was gesturing the way Minette had run. She wasn't that bad to me, but I knew that I loved animals of all kinds and that not everyone shared that point of view. Sometimes my sister was even a little annoyed at my tendency to run something of an animal rescue out of the garden but she was kind enough to let me have my fun anyway.

As he continued about his dog's name I made a mental note not to make the same mistake again, since sometimes people could be sensitive about those sorts of things, and that was understandable as well. "I'm glad Mr. Woofles has such a forgiving heart," I replied with another smile, though I secretly wondered if this was a case where affection had made the little dog a bit spoiled, what with the way he seemed to think that biting was alright. Perhaps he was only nervous though. "And Minette really is a good kitten most of the time but I promise I'll keep her out of the way as best I can."

But finally he decided to give me his name and I smiled more brightly, sincerely glad to hear it. I didn't recognize the name in the slightest but it was hard enough for me to remember where I sat on the various family trees so I didn't concern myself with it too much. "It's wonderful to meet you, Felecien," I replied with a smile and a light laugh for his seeming enthusiasm, though I was careful to keep it gentle just in case he was offended. I wasn't quite sure yet if his mind was all here or not but if not that wasn't exactly his fault, was it? "I'll be glad for the company. The house has seemed so quiet since my brother and sister went to the war front. Please, come in and make yourself at home."

[Felicien Clermont-Montmorency]

I was filled with an almost overwhelming desire to cover my face with my hands, but there was no way I could have got away with it – unless Felicien was particularly traumatised by the presence of a cat in the household. But I wanted to shake the silly, sweet creature. How in Elua’s name could she have the patience to be kind to a brainless irritant like Felicien? And how was I supposed to keep up the pretence? I can maintain Felicien only because I manage to bore or infuriate people to such an extent they avoid me ... him ... us. Whatever we are.

I had never thus far encountered the problem of persistent niceness. Had things been other than they were, had I been different, perhaps I might even have liked “darling Nomnom” with her sunshine hair, her kitten and her bare feet. But just because she was nice didn’t make her any different to the rest of them. A corrupt system is still a corrupt system. Oppression and social inequality are still oppression and inequality. Complicity is guilt. All are guilty.

I had to remind myself of this, and it worried me that I needed reminding.

I was so discomposed that I actually voluntarily reached out and took Mr Woofles back from Noemi’s arms. Normally I like other people to be made as miserable as possible by his existence. He smelled appalling, and he sank his teeth into my arm the moment I picked him up, but thankfully I was wearing so many layers he barely made it through the fabric. I tucked the little monster into the crook of my arm and grinned and grinned, as though his very existence made me profoundly happy.

“Thank you, Nomnom,” I trilled. “I notice the guestrooms are in the west wing but Mr Woofles is very particular about where he stays. It has to be quiet, for his nerves, you know, darling. And he absolutely can’t abide sun in the mornings.” I’ve never actually found anything Mr Woofles can abide. “Oh yes, and the war is terribly silly. Let’s not even talk about it, Nomnom. Or Mr Woofles might faint!”

That damn war. Silly didn’t even begin to cover it. Prideful fools.

[Noemi de Trevalion]

My guest left me a little confused, mostly because I'd never really had someone drop in on me quite this way. In La Serenissima it was always my parents who took care of guests to start and Victoire learned from them the proper way to do things, but I simply watched and did whatever came naturally to me, which was generally asking questions and trying to make them feel more comfortable after what was usually a long trip. I tried to be gentle with my questions and enthusiasm but I knew that sometimes I had to remove myself before I was a complete pest.

And then there was Felecian's manner of speaking, and his demeanor in general. I'd known some boys who were a bit silly back home and they'd always amused me somewhat with their gentle ways and exuberance, but there was something that was just a little bit sillier about him. I could almost wonder how his family could leave him to his own devices like this because he seemed so young and impulsive. What if he'd run into someone who didn't have a care for what happened to him?

"Well, we can go look around the west wing and we'll see what suits you and Mr. Woofles best," I replied with another smile, my voice somewhat more gentle as he took the aforementioned dog back to rest under his arm and the trunks began to be brought in. From the way this was going he may have had more clothing than I did, but then I had some here and more left at the Palazzo Immortali that I wasn't thinking of at the moment, and it probably wasn't much considering my siblings and I took up an entire house that couldn't be fit into boxes or bags.

When he mentioned the war I fought to keep some sadness from my smile, because really it did make sense that he might not want to hear about it, and that it might be easier to admit through the small dog that was still trying to chew on some of his own ribbons. "Let's talk about something else while we walk, maybe that will help him to calm down. Where were you before you decided to stop by here? I haven't been anywhere but the City since I arrived in Terre d'Ange."

[Felicien Clermont-Montmorency]

“La, stop that Mr Woofles,” I said, cheerfully as the blasted creature started to eat its own vomit-stained ribbons. “Turquoise is a wonderful colour on you, and terribly fashionable, isn't it Nomnom?”

The dog gave an ominous hiccough so I put him hastily onto the floor. He has always been rather talented with his emissions. It's probably his only talent.

“A little walk is just what you need, isn't it Mr Woofles? Let's go find a room with our darling cousin.” I wish I'd received some sort of warning about Noemi de Trevalion. Anyone else would have just let us get on with it, or had a servant show us to the guest wing. Anything, in fact, to get away from us. But Noemi's merciless kindness showed no sign of letting up, and, worse, she was asking interested questions.

As it happened I knew plenty about Terre d'Ange. I knew about about poverty and negligence, corruption and cruelty. And I knew about people, powerful people, and their darker secrets.

“Oh Nomnom, I've been everywhere,” I said, with a airy gesture that nearly caught a footman somewhere he would prefer to remain unmolested. “Staying with friends and family, of course. Here, there, everywhere, you know it is, so many people to visit. I could tell you stories that would make eyelashes curl, darling, believe you me. Do you know in Namarre, everyone is wearing green stockings. It make one look positively gangrenous. I simply couldn't stay another moment in the province.”

This was exhausting me, and from the fact Noemi had not run screaming from the room yet it seemed that her tolerance for my idiocy surpassed my own. It was almost funny. Felicien, as a general rule, is too self-absorbed to do anything other than talk about himself but then I don't think he's ever had a conversation lasting longer than five minutes. Out of sheer desperation, I reached for a question of my own.

“But you grew up in La Serenissima, didn't you Nomnom? I am simply dying to hear all about it. So exotic, darling, and the fashions must have been fabulous.”

[Noemi de Trevalion]

For all that Felecian did seem to love his dog Mr. Woofles seemed somewhat gratified to be on the ground and I smiled at the little creature as he shook himself, dislodging a few of the various bits of fabric on him, his toenails clattering against the floor. I knew that some people kept dogs like this but I'd always liked to keep mine as close to their natural temperament as possible rather than making them conform to what human beings tried to do to themselves. It wasn't my place to question it though, especially since the small dog did seem pretty comfortable for now.

Once it seemed that my guests had sorted themselves out I started toward the stairs that led to the second floor, most of our spare rooms being on that level while the bottom floor was parlors and libraries and sitting rooms where it wasn't the kitchens or storage areas. As we walked I glanced at Felecian every so often to show him I was listening and smiled a bit more widely to hear that he'd been so many places. Right now even Namarre seemed far off and reminded me of my friend Matt who'd offered to let me spend some time at his estate there this summer. I hadn't heard from him in some time, but with the war so many things had changed it was hard to keep them all straight.

"Well, I don't know if I want my eyelashes curling but I like to hear about new places," I told him sincerely, though there was a flash of mirth in my eyes. Green tights didn't sound very flattering to me either, though in truth I rarely wore them anyway unless I was dancing.

Right now he was asking me a question though and it would have been rude not to answer it before I let my mind wander any further. "Yes, since I was three," I replied with a smile as I remembered the familiar surroundings of the Palazzo and the canals and everything else I knew so well. "It's beautiful there in a very different way to here, but I suppose because I was there for so long everything here seems more exotic to me by comparison. I spent weeks after I arrived walking around just to see everything I could. Have you ever traveled outside of Terre d'Ange? I've heard that some people here go to Tiberium to study."

[Felicien Clermont-Montmorency]

“Curled eyelashes are absolutely a la mode in some parts of the world, Nomnom,” I said, reprovingly. “When it comes to fashion, you should never be hidebound. That's the road to death, darling. Death!”

I babbled on heedlessly because that's was Felicien would do, although my store of babble was sorely reduced.

“Death!” I said again, for additional emphasis, and to pad my babble count.

But actually I was watching her when I thought she wasn't looking at me, because I found drawn to the warmth with which spoke of her homeland. Of course Noemi was beautiful, that was a given, and meant nothing to me, but when she smiled she did so with such sincerity, and such a lack of inhibition, that it made feel a little strange. I hadn't seen such a smile since … well. Not since the foolishness of childhood, before we knew better. She sparkled when she was amused, which, apparently was often – and for a terrible, unbearable second I thought of Ann. And I despised myself for having made such a tawdry connection.

“La, Tiberium,” I said, not quite mustering Felicien as much as I needed. “Study. Yawnorama, darling. Can you imagine anything more dreary? It's just a lot of old men using long words all the time. What's the point?”

My old tutor had studied there and, as a youth, I'd intended to go myself one day. How distant, and absurd, those dreams seemed.

Mr Woofles had decided to try and devour part of the banister, which appeared to comprised of a combination of brass and oak, so I thought it best to direct his attentions somewhere else. I was, truthfully, glad of the distraction.

[Noemi de Trevalion]

I'd never really met anyone to whom fashion was so important, but since it did seem like such a large matter to my guest I nodded in understanding and recalled my sister, as well as some of the other girls and boys I'd known through my life who were the same themselves. Clothing could be an art in itself and I couldn't really say that was any more silly than dancing or singing, not when my own sister took so much joy from designing her own gowns in her free time.

Besides, if he was trying to be helpful it would be wrong not to listen. Felecien was older than I was and knew a good deal that I likely didn't, especially about this land. Maybe they weren't things I would have heard in La Serenissima from my tutors but wasn't that why I was here too?

Once he started talking about the more studious side of Tiberium I couldn't help smiling a bit more thoughtfully as I considered it. "Well, I've never been a scholar like most people would think of one," I admitted after a moment, by now having reached the top of the stairs where I turned to make sure he met up with me once he'd pulled Mr. Woofles from the stairway. "But I think it might be interesting to hear all of the things the people there know. They're likely much smarter than I am, perhaps some of it would rub off on me."

Once my guest was back at the stop I brightened my smile again and walked over to the first door, one that faced out over the side garden and was decorated in a sky blue color with furniture of lightly colored wood that reminded me of sunshine on wheat. "What do you think of this one?" I asked interestedly. "It's not the biggest one but the colors are nice and calm and generally this part of the house is pretty quiet anyway." I'd spent a lot of time looking through the house, finding what secrets I could as a way of keeping myself distracted from the quietness here, so perhaps if he gave me an idea what he was looking for I could think of it for him.

[Felicien Clermont-Montmorency]

“The thing I've noticed about smart people,” I said, wagging a finger in her direction “is that they're often rather stupid.”

She'd probably have liked my old tutor – he had a way of making knowledge accessible, rather than remote, the province of any who cared about it, rather than a rarefied few presumed to be deserving. I found myself wondering what it would be like to have a proper conversation with Noemi, whether she'd be interested in what I really knew, and thought about things. What if I could open her eyes to the real conditions of the poor and powerless … but no, it's not my role to educate, merely to illuminate. And the aristocracy have no interest in self-improvement, preferring always comfortable delusions of superiority.

I followed her into the guest room, dragging a reluctant, whimpering Mr Woofles. He sometimes has panic attacks about doors, I have no idea why. Stupid animal. As Noemi had said, the room was quiet and out of the way. I wandered to the window, as if I was admiring the furnishings (which I actually didn't give a damn about) and cast a hasty glance downwards. There was a fair quantity of ivy and a nearby tree, which would allow me ready access, both in and out of the place. Perfect. I was relieved that Felicien didn't have to go into his “can't stand the colour” or “Mr Woofles doesn't like the light” routine. A combination of the journey here and conversation with my cousin had tired me out – and my feet were suffering agonies in absurdly fashionable shoes.

“Oh, it's darling, darling,” I cried, happily. “Mr Woofles will adore it, won't you precious?”

Mr Woofles sat in the middle of the floor howling, refusing to play his part.

“That's his way of saying he's happy,” I said, desperately. “Thank you Nomnom, you have gorgeous taste.”

I looked around – in my rush to assess the usefulness of the room I hadn't even looked at the colour. “Oh, blue like my eyes!” I said, fluttering them.

[Noemi de Trevalion]

As he looked over the room I watched the way dog and master made their way, Mr. Woofles reluctant but Felecien somewhat more enthusiastic as he took everything in. At least the latter still seemed content for now, though of course the poor little dog wasn't for the moment. Hopefully he'd be able to get out of those ribbons soon and that would help him to relax a bit more. Perhaps the little thing had simply had too long of a trip from Namarre and the busy day had indeed rattled his nerves.

"I'm really glad that you like it," I replied with genuine enthusiasm and cheerfulness, leaning down to pat Mr. Woofles on the head and just avoiding another nip as he yipped and darted his head toward my hand. Sometimes dogs weren't the most sensible creatures but perhaps staying somewhere for more than a couple of days would settle him a little more. The small crooning bay that he gave was startling but at Felecian's hasty words I just smiled and nodded in understanding. Sometimes people trained their dogs in ways they didn't even realize.

Just then he said something about his eyes and I straightened again, then looked at them and grinned. "Yes, they do," I agreed readily enough, having not been close enough to really notice it before, especially not while I was so distracted with trying to be a good hostess. "It's a nice blue that sort of reminds me of the sky over the calm sea." I'd finally gotten to the point where every example of d'Angeline beauty didn't send me into a moment of baffled wonder, but I had to admit he did have nice eyes.

Glancing back at Mr. Woofles and then at the door I smoothed down the front of my skirts with my hands before I pushed some loose hair back behind my ear, then heard his boxes starting to be brought up. "It seems as though everything is pretty much set then," I told my distant cousin warmly, giving him another smile. "And as much as I've loved talking to you I'm sure you'd like some time to settle in without some silly cousin being a pest. Was there anything else you needed? I'm sure there's some food and wine that can be sent up if you'd like."

[Felicien Clermont-Montmorency]

I picked up Mr Woofles to get him out of my cousin's way. She did seem to persist in trying to nice to the little bastard and I was afraid he would succeed in biting her the more she did it.

I circled the room vaguely, opening drawers and fiddling with ornaments, in a Felicien-like way. In truth, I wasn't paying all that much attention to her flow of kindly chatter because I was planning how quickly and easily I could get away. I could probably legitimately plead exhaustion after travelling so far, and Mr Woofles' nerves. Mauvoisin had returned from the front lines, and we had a lot of work ahead of us. Also Antoinette was having one of her tantrums, and I could foresee a long night on my back under a printing press trying to figure out what was wrong with her this time.

I came back to my cousin in time for her to make the most extraordinary statement I think I've heard heard. She thought I had nice eyes?! I was so completely shocked that Mr Woofles plopped out my slackening arms – thankfully I've dropped him before and he seems to bounce, so I wasn't unduly concerned. “I … uh … yes,” I said, jaw probably hanging open in an entirely Felicien-like display of sheepish vacuity.

Felicien (like many stupid people) is vain, so I do spend a fair amount of time looking in the mirror on his behalf, arranging his clothes. But all I'm seeing, really, is an over-dressed idiot I despise. The last time I thought anything about my eyes that wasn't connected to their utilitarian function of allowing me to see was probably when they were looking into Ann's.

I had to get her out of here. The girl would make me run mad. I flounced over to her and “mwah mwah-ed” her extravagantly on both cheeks. “Thank you Nomnom, you've been a darling. But travel is such a strain on Mr Woofles' delicate disposition, he should probably have a nice long rest. We'll get something sent up from the kitchen, so don't you worry yourself about that.”

Please. For. The. Love. Of. Elua. Go. Away. And. Stop. Being. So. Unbearably. Nice. To. Felicien. He. Does. Not. Deserve. It.

[Noemi de Trevalion]

My guest was very surprised by my compliment, enough that he dropped Mr. Woofles, but I restrained a giggle and simply watched the little dog shake himself off, almost dislodging some of the fabric strips that were in his hair. Perhaps if I caught him outside of the room I could give the poor creature a bath and a brush before his absence was noticed and that might help him feel better. That thought kept me from any laughing though, since not all dogs liked baths and Mr. Woofles had such a delicate temperament anyway.

But then everything was all right again and I smiled as he kissed my cheeks, understanding his words completely. A lot of people wanted to rest after traveling, my sister included, so really I was probably the odd one for always wanting to be out and about as soon as possible. "Well, if you need anything be sure to let me know," I replied cheerfully as I took a step back and pushed some hair behind my ear. "I hope you both rest well, and that we might get a chance to talk again sometime soon. It really was nice to meet you."
With that there was nothing else to do but make my way politely out and back down the hall toward the stairs. No, he wasn't my sister or brother, or anyone I knew, but having a guest would hopefully give me something to do while they were away, and perhaps teach me something as well. Perhaps that I was naive in thinking that someone like my far-distant cousin would be good company but I tried to always give people second chances.

Hopefully he wouldn't find his stay here too demanding.

[Felicien Clermont-Montmorency]

As soon as she was out the door, I collapsed onto the bed with a sigh of relief. After a minute or two, Fouinon arrived with the first of my luggage. Presumably an army of de Trevalion servants was dealing with the rest.

“All right?” he said, by way of a greeting.

“My feet are in hell, can you get these insufferable shoes off?”

“Do I look like your fucking valet?”

That almost made me smile, and I pulled myself upright to unbuckle the offending articles myself. I tossed them into a corner of room, glad to be rid of them, and started pulling the ribbons out of my hair, not exactly gently.

“Think you can get out tonight.”

I met his eyes. “Absolutely.”