'ᴡᴇ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴇɴᴛɪᴍᴇɴᴛ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ʙᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴠᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ.'
Only one month has passed in Daliah Viper's life trying to reintegrate at court and follow the uneasy trails her eyes have caught.
One month filled with blood, tribulations, and l...
- (Music, other) music to raise the pitch of (a note), esp by one chromatic semitone
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At the end of this day, the first day since we all strangely found ourselves back in a daze of demands, I find the mansion bathed in music and sounds of light chattering.
It clashes.
The cracking music and violin soars through the walls and makes some of the animals skitterish. At every high note, some of the birds answer or croak, and some of my bugs surely scatter around their homes as well.
The night, as it seems, has split the mansion invisibly into two halves, both having their own little carousing.
One is clearly occupying the salon.
I don't dare to move past it. The last time I had to sit inside was when my mother spilled secrets to Samson. I don't need that again. But there are at least three voices this time. One is definitely just Arven. The other is my mother. The third is younger. Not quite as featherbrained in laughter as my mother.
Arven and the girl come to my mind, in the hallway. The thought makes my eyebrows involuntary draw together.
A cousin, maybe? A niece? They lost some in the bowl and after too. She wasn't here for Queenstrial, she probably has lower blood and status in their family ranks. It makes sense I don't know any wayward Arven from a province.
What do I care about it, even?
With a long puffed out breath full of disdain, I move up the stairs. At least the second gathering isn't quite as unnerving.
It is just as I know it, the council of pettiness. They have chosen to fill my father's study again. This time, it isn't about any vote though. Smoke fills the air and escapes from the window. Curious. Which one of them smokes? I don't think I have ever seen my father smoke. Maybe just an occasional thing.
A few chairs fill the space between the desk and the shelves. The bird isn't in the cage. But the dogs have rolled together on their cushions. No music, just voices and the sounds of the animals croaking through the house up here. I can ignore the flurry of notes echoing up.
Hector and my father do as well.
They are just sipping on their glasses filled with brown sharp liquor, whiskey maybe.
"We are all early today," I note.
"For once," Hector answers, and my father makes an amused, but tired sound."There have been further instructions delivered to all of us. And everyone is busy. Maven Calore is king for two days and has started to announce construction sites and bargains for capturing the rebels."
