Page 45 of Enchanted Net
“No.” Hermia settled down on her shoulder again. “They’d think you had done something. Only you don’t. You’re very precise about what you do. Out in public. It’s why I watch what you do, and not Mama.”
That was a fascinating image, because Thessaly looked to Mama, assumed Mama had it perfect. Aunt Metaia had always done what she thought best, which was decidedly not always the most proper choice by etiquette. “I don’t have to solve it right now, probably. After all, if it got that far, Lord Fortier would talk to Father, and Father would talk to me, and I don’t know. I wouldn’t like it much, probably, but I’d know what I needed to do differently.”
“Wouldn’t enjoy being told, or wouldn’t enjoy doing whatever it was?” Hermia asked. “And is Father going to arrange something like that for me?”
“Both. Probably both.” Thessaly let out a breath. “The thing about me marrying well, sweet, is that it gives you more options. Less pressure to do it yourself. If you met someone you really liked, when you’re properly out in society, you’d have more choices, so long as they were respectable.” A talisman maker of good background, but not aristocratic, just for example, not that Thessaly would ever say that out loud.
“Oh.” Hermia nestled in again, and there was a long silence. Just before Thessaly was certain her sister had fallen asleep, there was a whisper. “I don’t want you to be miserable for that.”
Thessaly had absolutely no answer to that, other than pretending she’d fallen asleep.
Chapter34
JUNE 24TH
On Monday, Vitus spent the morning in Niobe’s workshop before she shooed him out to do other useful things. He’d originally intended to go to the Faire, but he wasn’t remotely in the mood. Instead, he went by the haberdasher his father swore by, to pick up a new tie and pocket square. He had a black suit, suitable for funerals, of course, but only one properly sombre tie. Two would be better, since there would be some people at both, almost certainly.
From there, he went off to the Four Metals house, arriving on the late side of the lunch hour. As he’d expected, there weren’t many people there. Most would either be tending to whatever their business was, or out at the Faire. He settled down in the conversation room to read through the paper and a few other minor publications, and also to see who happened by.
He’d been there perhaps twenty minutes when someone went by him, past him, then stopped and backed up. “Just the man I remembered I wanted to talk to.” It was Merryn Penforth, looking particularly sharply dressed. “Do you have a minute, Vitus?”
Vitus had been to three evening gatherings, including that first one she’d invited him to. As she’d said, the topics weren’t always to his particular interest, but the discussions around them were. He nodded, setting the paper aside. “Of course. Here or somewhere else?”
“One of the private rooms, if you don’t mind. It won’t be long, but there’s a possible commission.” And that, yes, he’d want to learn about without everyone listening over his shoulder, for all sorts of reasons. Vitus got up, slotting the paper back in place neatly, and followed Merryn down the hall. The layout was both like the Stream and not. There were no sleeping rooms upstairs, like the House clubs had for people who needed to spend a night in Trellech in a reliable spot.
Instead, this floor had a variety of meeting rooms, with the kitchen and staff rooms in the basement. The first and second floors held a variety of workshop spaces with smaller tools and materials. Four Metals as a society had a country estate, convenient to a portal, and that was where all the larger or more complex workshops were; the forge, the kiln, the carpentry shop, and several buildings Vitus had never ventured into.
The private room Merryn chose was small, but the decorative woodwork was pleasing. The walls were a shade of deep blue that Vitus found restful, and the two easy chairs were comfortable. She went in first, and Vitus flipped the sign by the door to show it was occupied, closing the door behind him. Merryn settled in the chair facing the door, and Vitus took the other. Then he waited. She had all the relevant information; he did not.
What Merryn did was look at him, her head cocked slightly. “Two things, in fact. First, are you intending to be at Magistra Powell’s funeral tomorrow?” She held up her fingers. “I gather you spoke with her briefly at the Council rites, and with her niece a little longer.”
Vitus blinked. “You are well-informed.” He nodded. “I was planning on it, yes.” Someone from Fox House would dissemble here, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Besides, it would be obvious tomorrow that he was there. Keeping it secret now didn’t seem worthwhile. “May I ask why?”
“She was one of our own.” Merryn’s voice was a little clipped. It was the sort of tone that made Vitus sure this loss was personal to her, if not nearly as much as to Thessaly. “You know our customs?”
Vitus inclined his head. “I’ve not, in the past, but yes.” It was the custom of the Four Metals to craft a chain, a link for each person mourning the death. They were made of hammered metal and left on the grave by someone with access, buried in the top layer of soil. “After the service?”
“At the country house, yes, in the metal shop. If you can bring your own gloves and such, that would be a help, but we’ll have spares handy.” Merryn considered him. “May I ask how well you knew her?”
“Not nearly as well as I suspect you did.” Vitus inclined his head. “I’m sorry for your loss. I met her niece - Thessaly, the older of the Lytton-Powell daughters - at the St George’s Day gala. And we’ve talked several times since. She was intrigued by the illusion challenges of lapis lazuli, and she had some questions for me about some of my work.” There, that was neutral enough, though he suspected some of his emotion showed through somewhere. It certainly felt like it was all on display. And even more so once he remembered yesterday.
“Ah.” Merryn’s voice was suddenly very neutral. “I don’t know Mistress Lytton-Powell well, but I know nothing against her. She’s a braver woman than I am, making the marriage choices she has.”
Vitus held still at that, and he was sure that showed as well. Then he took a breath, considered his options, and went for honesty, given he couldn’t hide all his feelings. “We’re on the way to being friends. I think she might rather need them.”
Merryn gave him a sharp look. “I expect you’re right.” Her voice started neutral, but then she shook her head, as if shaking something off. “We would be glad to have you then, and you’d be welcome to tell her niece about our custom in due course, if you thought it the right thing.”
“I appreciate that.” Vitus hesitated. “May I ask whether you’re the one arranging it, or just the one who spotted me?”
“I am the one who is helping arrange matters, but I also suggested you be invited. How’s that?” She spread her hands, palms up. “We are still getting to know you again. Travel changes a man - and a woman - as I know myself.” Her mouth quirked up. “I came back from a Grand Tour of my own. I promptly refused to marry the man my parents had in mind for me. Then I went sideways into an entirely different line of apprenticeship. I didn’t know Metaia at school, but she was helpful in sorting out the apprenticeship, and by the time I finished, she was on the Council.”
“Ah.” Vitus considered that. “That would make a strong connection, that kind of help. And I gather she was generous with that, helping people find where they might do best.”
Merryn’s eyes gleamed for a moment. “A great loss, for many people. She kept the Four Metals part rather private. She felt she could do more from the shadows. And she did like her illusions and tricking the eye. The sort who preferred to be underestimated.” Merryn tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. “She was supposed to be meeting Thirza. You’ve seen more of her, I think?”
“I have.” Thirza Remmerton was an acclaimed crafter of pigments. There was some overlap between their arts, or at least the raw materia for them. And stones that weren’t suited for talisman work could profitably go to pigment work. She wasn’t a colourman - or colourwoman - making up inks, but instead crafted materials for artists and for magical use. “Ah.” He now saw how the invitation must have gone, if Thirza had any idea of the connection. “That must have been terribly hard for her, as well.”
“You’re very thoughtful. We do like that, on the whole, you’ll have a chance to say so tomorrow. She’s taken it hard. They were close friends, comfortable friends, no masks, no illusions. Those are too rare a thing in the world.” Then Merryn shifted, almost shaking out invisible feathers into something tidier. “The other question - or did you have anything else first?”
