Delphinium, or A Necromancer's Home (TCoLaD Book 2)

Council Meeting

~ Qvattorday, 9th of Aprilis, 11831 ~

He woke in a room that brought back memories in the morning light. Pierre had chosen to sleep in his childhood room last night and it had been an indulgence granted him. Most of his things were in the larger suite where he would stay from now on, but the first night in a new place, or a familiar place that had not been visited recently, was special.

Pluta was already awake, inspecting the room and looking through old toys and books. As he had not met her until he was living at the castle, this whole building was new to her. She was no doubt curious about her master's younger life.

Most of the things in the room were as they had been years ago. It had never been cleared out, though it had been kept clean, perhaps out of respect and then habit.

"What have you found there, Pluta?" he asked, craning his neck to look at his cat. She was hitting something across the room and running to it, only to hit it again.

"It smells like you and outside," she replied, picking it up in her mouth and bringing it over to him. "My favorite things. I like it."

It was a ball, just the right size to fit in a small child's hands, made of leaves, feathers, and string. When Pierre touched it, he felt a jolt go through his palms. So that is how it had not decayed; it was wrapped in magic just as much as the physical material. His père must have made it for him. A memory surfaced of Félicien in a meeting, not paying the least bit of attention, but instead playing catch with him. Pierre had hidden under the table and its thick tablecloth, tossing the ball towards him, who caught it every time with one hand in his lap, sight unseen. It was also the first time the young boy had found himself interested in politics.

"Please don't destroy it," he asked Pluta, tossing it out into the room.

"I do not think I could if I wanted to; there is much magic in it. But I will be careful." She returned to batting it across the room.

He watched for a while, lost in memories as much as his pet's game, but finally got up to dress.

He would meet with his council today—several men chosen by his brother to help with the ruling of Piques. Aimé had the same men at his disposal for advisory and it was not a smudge on Pierre to inherit them, but an honor.

He knew Charlot some, as well as Vivien now, but the rest were unknown.

Most of his clothes were in the guest quarters he should have been sleeping in, but a few things were laid out for the day here. He had to trust the servants knew of his schedule and had picked appropriate attire.

"Come along, Pluta," he said.

***

He first had breakfast with Elizabeth, still preferring the company of those that he knew well for the time being. A servant entered the room more often than might be usual, no doubt playing a chaperon for the two (the assumption given more weight as they stopped coming in as often after Wolfram joined them near the end of the meal).

"Did I choose the correct clothes, Your Grace?" the boy asked, sitting beside him after greeting them both.

"You picked the clothing?" Lizzy looked over his clothes, now with a more critical eye, and by her smile she approved.

"I said I would be at your desire and aid, Your Grace."

"You did, Wolfram, thank you." The boy was proving truly devoted. If he had even been half as involved with Ophion, Pierre felt guilty for having taken him without asking. That Wolfram had no parents and was essentially a ward of the state let him be moved around at the whim of those in power. Pierre outranked his uncle and could take the boy without repercussion, but he did expect a letter soon if there was not already one waiting for him somewhere.