First Meeting I

Deserea's heels clicked as she walked down the quiet hallway of House Donnelle's upper East Wing. As usual, this part of the keep was sparsely occupied, especially at this late hour. A single guard stood at duty at the door to the bedchambers. She flashed him a smile and murmured a word of thanks as he opened the door to allow her to enter, quietly pleased at how she made him blush.

The fireplace in the ante-chamber had burned down to glowing embers, filling the room with warmth and a flickering red glow. Geriell, Lyvia's Lady-in-Waiting, sat close to the fire, busying herself with some form of needlework.

Deserea slipped off her shoes and enjoyed the feel of the carpet beneath her bare feet. Balls were her livelihood and her passion, and while she adored almost everything about attending them—the people, the spectacle, the food, the dresses—the shoes left something to be desired. How was it that the more beautiful and exquisitely designed a shoe was, the faster it became uncomfortable after the first dance?

"I assume that Vee's still up?" Deserea asked, curling her toes and stretching to work some of the aches out of her back.

"Her Ladyship is in the sitting room," the maidservant replied, nodding to the door to the left. Deserea was slightly disappointed by Geriell's lack of reaction. No eye roll? No heavy sigh? No pointed emphasis on the correct manner of address? Was Geriell really not bothered or just pretending? Either way, Deserea would have to think of some new way to get under her skin.

Deserea opened the door to the sitting room and almost recoiled. It was freezing in there!

She held down a shiver as she closed the door behind her, not wanting Geriell to observe her discomfort, but as soon as she was out of sight she couldn't help but let out a small gasp. Her breath fogged the air, mixing with the mist that curled in through the wide open windows. Only the light of the oil-lamp on Lyvia's desk held it back from filling the room. The tendrils of mist probed at the edge of the lamp-light and pooled in the shadows. The fireplace of the sitting room was made but deliberately unlit.

"By the Lord Ruler's chilly britches, you want to make it a bit colder in here, Lyvia?" Deserea said, frantically rubbing some heat into her bare arms. Her dress was full of frills and layers, but wasn't intended for wearing outside on a night as cold as this.

Lyvia made a note in the margin of the paper she was examining before moving it to one of the carefully stacked piles arranged across her desk. She seemed utterly unaffected by the cold.

"You can always wait outside with Geriell, or the bedroom should be warm enough if you want some privacy…" Lyvia suggested, pulling a pair of invoices towards her for scrutiny.

Deserea waivered. She didn't want to miss out on the action, but she wasn't sure she could stand to wait in this cold without changing into something more suitable.

Lyvia looked up and flashed a shy smile. "...Or you could take advantage of the fur stole on the chair behind you…?"

Deserea hadn't even noticed it; in the darkness it blended in with the furniture. She wrapped it around herself eagerly and sank into the chair. The cool fur quickly warmed to the feeling of a comforting hug. There were even a pair of bedroom slippers set out for her. Deserea slid them on gratefully.

"Thanks Vee, you're the best," Deserea cooed, cinching the stole tighter around her shoulders.

Lyvia gave a tiny nod as if to say that she wouldn't disagree with that assessment and turned back to her work.

"But aren't you freezing in here?" Deserea asked.

"Cold is subjective," Lyvia said. "Unless it's cold enough to threaten your health, it's all relative. Once you acclimatize, it's just a state of mind."

"Meaning…?"

"Meaning I try not to think about it and then it doesn't bother me."

That made sense. Lyvia had self-control you could wrap an iron bar around. Deserea liked to think that she had a certain poise, a certain grace, but Lyvia always felt like she never had a muscle out of place. Not stiff, not clenched, just the quiet confidence of someone who knows exactly what she's doing. Speaking of…

"So what are we doing sitting in the dark with the windows open anyway?"

"Why do you think?" Lyvia said, carefully circling an important item on her paperwork.

Oh for the… Deserea suppressed the urge to say, I don't know Vee, that's why I asked! It was a simple enough question, not everything needed to become an object lesson in critical thinking!

She just waited, she knew well enough that Lyvia would explain if she didn't take the bait.

After a pause, Lyvia glanced up to see if Deserea was thinking. If Lyvia was disappointed, she didn't let it show. She continued to pour over her paperwork as she explained.

"It's important to all of us that our visitor tonight is able to come and go without being observed. Closed windows would make things unnecessarily difficult, and a roaring fireplace would be more likely to leave him silhouetted in the light."

On reflection, Deserea noticed that Lyvia's oil lamp was shaded to prevent any light shining towards the window. From the outside there would barely be a glow.

"Won't the guards think that it's strange the windows are open on a night this cold?"

"I doubt it, firstly because if they're doing their job they should be focusing their attention outwards, not inwards; secondly, as dark as it is, they're unlikely to see anything even if they did look this way; and thirdly, to think it strange would require a moment's thought…" Lyvia signed as she continued, "And the guards in my husband's employ were sadly not selected for their powers of introspection and deduction." Just one of the many subjects on which Tanniker had ignored and dismissed her opinion. You would have thought that you would want a little brains in the men tasked with protecting your life…

"Then if they're all looking outwards, won't the guards spot our visitor coming in?" Deserea asked.

"Not if he's as good as his reputation they won't."

Indeed, if the man lived up to his reputation he would be a veritable miracle worker, capable of turning invisible and riding in on the mists themselves. Some of the rumors were clearly impossible, but the rest… based on the stories her agents had gathered, it was quite the impressive resume.

"So he might show up any moment?"

Lyvia had a good sense what the time was but glanced at the clock to verify nonetheless.

"He is known for being prompt, so I imagine he will make an appearance shortly. He's also known for being thorough, so I wouldn't be surprised if he's already in the vicinity, doing reconnaissance before he reveals himself."

Deserea rose and stepped over to the open window, gazing out into the curling mists.

Lyvia smiled. "I doubt you'll be able to see him coming from the window. In fact, you'd be sensible to step aside in case he ends up entering at speed."