Her Rightful Place

57: The Duke

"Here we are again," the Duke of Pelanshire remarks to Enzo, ever his faithful companion, as they approach the village of Adrennes. "Although, I guess you haven't been here before, have you, boy?"

Enzo wags his tail as he lopes along beside Jerôme's horse, tongue lolling out of his perpetual canine grin. The dark-mottled dog could not care less where he and his master are going; it has been far too long, in his opinion, since they were able to have any sort of good long adventure together. Jerôme is also grateful for the chance to get away from Cloiche Fuar, grateful that the Prince has seen fit to spare him for this journey. Queen Bêtel is still indisposed with her cold, but her servants have reported that she is recovering, and therefore Xavier, who had been considering accompanying Jerôme on this journey, elected to remain in the royal seat, to "keep a lid on things," as he put it.

"You need a vacation more than I do," Jerôme protested when Xavier gave him this news.

"But the Queen actually listens to me sometimes, and this adventure enables you to do a favor for your lady," Xavier countered, his face and tone indicating that there will be no changing his mind. "You will go, as soon as possible. I warrant the florist, if indeed you find one, will want every bit of the two and a half weeks that remain until the Midsummer's Eve Ball to prepare his or her wares."

So Jerôme took just enough time to gather provisions, the official letter from Prince Xavier authorizing his trip to Adrennes, and Enzo before he went on his way. The journey has taken less time than he expected it to, and though externally he is as unruffled as ever, he is nervous about the encounter with Christelle's family that awaits him. Always before, when he has courted a young lady, he met her parents to ask their permission for the courtship before it began, and the young lady was always present for that meeting.

I guess I had best see them first, in case I am meant to take samples of flowers back to Cloiche Fuar, he decides silently as he enters the village of Adrennes, which is much the same as it was the last time he was there. The sun is shining, and people are going about their usual business, although they give Jerôme a wide berth. He wore simpler clothes than he would at Cloiche Fuar, but he and his horse still wear the livery of the House of Pelanshire and he has an unmistakeable noble bearing, both of which inextricably link him with the royals of Mordalce. Some villagers mutter curses on the Queen, just loud enough for him to hear, as they move away from him. Enzo keeps close to his master's horse, his sense of the townspeople's hostility curbing his usual exuberance.

The place where Mireille's shop had been is still a scorched hole in the earth near the river, disrupting an otherwise orderly village street. The villagers have set up a sort of memorial to the seamstress at the edge of the hole that was once her cellar—a stone engraved with her name, a few wreaths of flowers, some scraps of embroidery. Mireille would not like this, if she knew, Jerôme muses, and nor would Queen Bêtel. It might be the only thing on which those two women ever agree, albeit for entirely different reasons.

The Duke suspects that asking one of the few villagers gathered at the memorial where he might find the town arbiter would be in poor taste, so he rides instead to the inn where he and Prince Xavier lodged when they last visited Adrennes. Fortunately for Jerôme, the innkeeper is outside the inn, repairing its sign, when he arrives.

"Good day to you, Monsieur," Jerôme greets the innkeeper, who immediately stops what he is doing and bows to the Duke.

"Good day to you, Your Excellency," the innkeeper replies, trying and failing to hide his surprise and approbation at seeing the Duke. "What brings you to Adrennes?"

"Official business for His Highness, Prince Xavier of Mordalce. I must begin by speaking with the town arbiter. Do you happen to know where I can find him?"