A Dance of Words

“It is a sad loss,” she said to her fellow guest. “Dame Astrid was an even-handed regent, and she was my friend.”

“Agreed,” he replied. “A good regent, and most likely a saint, to have served Kell for so many years.”

“Lord Kell has always walked his own path,” she said. “And the ghosts that haunt him are those of his own making.”

“Wise words,” came a soft voice from somewhere behind them. “Pray that none of us follows down a similar path.”

The two stiffened ever so slightly at the sound of the newcomer’s voice. They turned to face her.

“Naissa,” the first conversant acknowledged, nodding slightly to the younger woman.

“Annah,” the wizard replied coolly. She turned to the other attendee and bowed her head slightly. “Jonas. How do you fare?”

“Well, Naissa. And you?”

“I also am well. Spring is in the air and the market for love elixirs and healing unguents is booming. How are you enjoying the party?”

“It is a fine thing, although the timing is unfortunate,” Jonas Fletcher opined. “But the tune must play on, no?”

“And you, Naissa,” Annah cut in. “How do you find things this evening? And I have not yet seen Emune tonight. How is your better half?”

Emune the Fey

“Wonderful, to be honest! On both counts. She is here enjoying the festival, particularly the rye. I myself am not much of a whiskey drinker, I will admit,” she replied. “But Lord Meade is very kind to open his casks for the Planting Festival, as he always does. This event is always the highlight of the spring for me nonetheless. And yet to think that in only two days time we shall mourn the loss of such a respected member of our community! Life and death, in balance.”

“Balance is a fine thing,” Annah offered. “And difficult to achieve. Tilt too far to either side, forward or backward, and we tumble to the ground.”

“Too true! It is a wonder any of us is left standing!” Naissa exclaimed. “Soon the new regent of Hillsreach will find herself in search of balance, as well.”

“Aye, balance, and contracts for goods and services,” Jonas slid in cleverly, drawing light laughter at the jest. “It is good she has such a long-time friend such as you, Naissa.”

“You are very kind to say so, Jonas,” she nodded graciously. “But I suspect she will also need to find a husband soon, as well? Goods and services, indeed! I wonder if there are any suitable candidates?”

Jonas blushed at the implied suggestion. As they stood idly conversing, another familiar face came shuffling along.

“Torren?” Naissa reached out and pulled the passerby into their circle. “Torren! Perhaps you could enliven our little turn with your thoughts on a particular matter!”

“Must I?” he mumbled, drawing sympathetic laughs from Jonas and Annah.

“Of course!” she smiled slyly. “We were just speculating as to the list of potential suitors for Abbie March, now that she is regent of Hillsreach.”

The young man grimaced at the mention, even as Jonas looked away in feigned distraction, and as Annah frowned ever so slightly.

“I hadn’t given it any thought,” he replied glumly.

“Ah, well,” she said. “There will be plenty of time to meditate on such things in the near future.”

Wishing to change the subject quickly, Jonas hit upon an exit plan.

“I think I wish to dance before the whiskey takes over the evening,” he began. “Would you care to join me?”

“A lovely offer, Jonas, but I think not,” Naissa smiled in response, preparing to take her leave. “I suspect we all have had more than our fair share of dancing this evening already.”

Our Deepest Condolences

In the dim candle light of her mother’s study, Abbie at last felt truly alone. Unable to hold in her great sorrow any longer, the girl began to sob uncontrollably. She had remained strong throughout the day, but now, with all the well-wishers and mourners gone, she felt overwhelmed. She had not expected any of this, especially before she had even reached her nineteenth birthday. The weight of it all threatened to crush her.

Even so, in time her tears were spent, or at least for the time being. The proud knight who had raised her would expect her to take charge and hold her head high. And so she would. Her aunt, Jhessa March of the Deep Umber, was yet to arrive tonight.

Jhessa March

Jhessa was as stern a priestess as her mother, but without the light touch that had made Dame Astrid such a respected regent. Jhessa was also responsible for administering the family mining business in Logash while Astrid ruled in Hillsreach as a vassal of Davin Kell. Abbie knew the relationship was cool between the two older women, although she did not know why. Astrid was not a March by birth, but had married Jhessa’s older brother. Abbie had always assumed that was at the root of it. In any case, her aunt would be here soon. She had to have it together.

Wiping away the last of the wet streaks from her cheeks, she gathered the various notes of condolence she had received from the prominent citizens of Logash. She flipped through the letters on her mother’s-- her-- desk until she could find names she recognized. Several she did not know, but there were a handful that she did.

The first was from Sir Jonas Fletcher. He sent his condolences and would attend the service. She smiled. Jonas was a good man.

Jonas Fletcher

And of course, she knew Leminnkainen Meade, and quickly read his letter. The Lord of Logash was just as committed to order as her mother had been, and on those occasions she had gone with Dame Astrid to Logash, Lord Meade had always been kind to her. His message to her now was in keeping with her memory of him. He indicated he would not be able to attend the service, though, as he was in the capital, but would call upon her when he returned. It was widely expected that Lord Meade would knight her, just as the Lord of Logash had dubbed each of the heads of House March for generations. It appeared that would have to wait for now. Abbie shrugged.

Lemminkainen Meade

The next letter she recognized was from Annah Vallant. Annah was a self-made merchant who as a young woman had come up from Yorvik during the last great silver rush and prospered selling dry goods. Dame Astrid had always spoken approvingly of Annah, and considered her a friend. She also said Annah was fair when the two would negotiate the supply contracts that kept the March family’s mining interests humming along. Abbie supposed now that she would have to negotiate a new agreement, and she hoped her mother’s assessment of Annah Vallant’s character held true.

Annah Vallant

The next letter after that was from her childhood friend, Naissa Mirian. She and Naissa had tutored together under Magda Virlych when they were children. As Abbie read the gentle words in her friend’s letter, she smiled. Naissa had been frail as a child, but fierce. She was also a genius. Or at least Abbie thought so. She was certainly a fantastically gifted wizard. Even Miss Magda had been taken aback at how quickly Naissa mastered the formula that had made Abbie’s and the other childrens’ own heads spin. She had heard that Naissa now ran an alchemical shop and sold potions to the locals. The teenager had also bought the River’s Heart Inn when the elder Fletchers retired last year. So much accomplished on her own, and at such a young age! She looked forward to seeing Naissa and catching up with her. Naissa would be a good person to help her with the people in Logash, Abbie concluded, and made a mental note to seek her out.

Naissa Mirian

The last condolence she recognized was from Torren Skiff. She frowned just a little. Torren’s family were river fishermen who chartered the exclusive right to also harvest and conserve Grays Lake just a few miles to the south of town. Torren was only a few years older than her, and had once petitioned her mother for permission to formally court Abbie. She frowned again. It hadn’t gone well. Torren was loud and plain and unpleasant and… loud. She sighed. Nevertheless, he was the heir to a very successful business, and she supposed she would have to extend her hand to him in friendship.

Torren Skiff

As she finished the stack, her maidservant entered the chamber. It had grown quite late.

“My lady, your aunt has arrived,” she began. “Would you like to speak with her, or shall I show her directly to her room?”

“Please show her to her room, Nan,” she replied. “It is late, and she must be exhausted from the trip. If she would take any refreshment, please also see to it. If she asks, tell her we shall meet first thing in the morning over breakfast.”

“As you wish, my lady,” the servant nodded approvingly as she retired. “Sleep well, Dame Abigail.”