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

Loyalties

~ Qvattorday, 13th of Maius, 11831 ~

"We must do something," Charlot said as the glasses were passed out. The remaining human advisors were gathered together in the early night without their Grace. Without knowing exactly where Renaud had disappeared yesterday, only a note sent this afternoon in the young advisor's hand assuring that he was alive and at his childhood home. None of them believed that Pierre had sent him home due to grief, though the excuse seemed to have been taken by most of the staff. They did not dissuade this.

Today too there had been meetings with Pierre—the head doctor Adam Roland joined him for lunch and later the socialites Valentin and Nina. The advisors were not allowed to attend and were firmly, but politely, shut out.

It seemed for every step forward they made together, something set them back twice as far. And so Charlot, having brought in Valentin and Nina, and been told to his face that he was not welcome, had roused the others to make their own plans and fix the situation.

"His Grace is the rightful ruler and we cannot just allow this to happen," the steward agreed. He poured the brandy that was customary for the advisor's discussions, even though they were now down to three. If he poured everyone more than usual, it was not commented on.

They settled in their seats around the duc's desk, using it as a table, their chairs pulled over. The room felt too empty to be seated so far apart in their usual places. There was a chill in the air as well, ever since yesterday, coming from the forest.

"We should have seen the iron," Vivien continued. "Spoken to the quartermaster about the servants, made certain the staff knew who, and what, they are dealing with. What do they believe shall happen—that they run off His Grace and someone else becomes Duc? That I take over all duties again?"

"Perhaps," Charlot replied. "Some of them are old enough to remember when the duchy was without a duc by blood at all, and may have preferred you running things. You heard the head chef when the prince questioned us all. Or perhaps they think with enough iron and ill will that His Grace will return to being entirely human?"

"Uncle Dorian was Pierre's grandfather. He was not unkind to fée given Cousin Ophélie's marriage to His Grace Félicien. If they remember his stewardship, they should honor it."

"People want to remember what fits their needs and forget all else."

"He is the duc. He is our duc. We became the prince's men to help him and this duchy. Now we are the duc's men."

"What does that mean?" Tibault asked, interrupting for the first time. He sipped his drink, looking between the heir to Carreaux and the steward of Piques. They were both older and wiser than he, and knew this land better than he.

"What does what mean, Brother?" Vivien asked.

"Do we..." he faltered and took another sip, a bit too much, and coughed before apologizing into his napkin.

"Do not apologize," Charlot added, his lips quirking in amusement. "But tell us, honorable Tibault, what you mean?"

"Well, Your Grace," the youngest of the men tried again. "Do we agree with His Grace's actions? With helping the fae that are here. With the problems at the hospital. And if so, why are we not helping already? If we disagree, we should advise him otherwise, but so far I see nothing that I do not stand with. It seems that His Highness is also standing by his brother. And what of what happened with Síofra! You and I both know that Renaud was not asked to go home. She was in her room all day yesterday, and His Grace and His Highness were furious!"

Silence as all three turned over the questions in their mind.

"Is Elwin here?" Charlot finally asked. "Can he come join us? I think it is time all the advisors talk."