Chapter 19

JUNE 8TH AT ARUNDEL

T hessaly stumbled, trying to keep up with Childeric. They were supposed to be taking a sedate turn around the gardens before tea. Childeric was not making that easy. Especially since Thessaly was wearing the sort of frock one wore to have tea with the soon to be family by marriage. It had rather more frills and fripperies than she’d choose for outside exertion. “Childeric, please.”

She was feeling a bit out of sorts, overall. They’d been sent outside to take the air. Arundel itself seemed pleasant, the gardens coming into vivid and impeccably tended blooms. But being with Childeric was not remotely soothing, even in such surroundings. She kept having to guess what he was going to do next, and feeling one step behind. He stopped, wheeling around, at first looking annoyed, before it smoothed out - like ice melting - into something kinder. “You should have said something, Thess.”

She had. Or at least she thought she had by using words like ‘just a moment, please’ and ‘my shoes aren’t fit for this’. He’d brushed by that, five minutes ago or more like ten now, until they were at the far end of the gardens, about to loop around toward the duelling salle. “I’d appreciate slowing down a little. My slippers aren’t designed for these paths.” She was feeling every pebble under her feet, and that was not her favourite.

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll be on the path longer?” He had a point, and just to be annoying, he added one of his more charming grins. Thessaly couldn’t get Aunt Metaia’s comments, the quiet ones, out of her head, though. About how Thessaly theoretically had other choices. They were very theoretical, though, since the betrothal agreements had oaths behind them. If he could be charming all the time, it would be much easier, honestly.

“But I am less likely to slip. You’re wearing good solid shoes.” Then she took a breath. “More slowly, at least until we’re on the bigger paving stones. And look, you seem out of sorts. Is there anything I can help with?”

Childeric immediately shook his head, but he did offer his arm and set off walking more slowly, in keeping with the actual surroundings. “It’s a family matter.”

Thessaly bit her lip, trying to figure out how to say ‘but aren’t we going to be family’ in a way that wouldn’t immediately annoy him more. After trying out and discarding several options, she settled on a mild, “Oh, and there’s nothing there you can talk about?”

He glanced at her, then shrugged. “You know how it is, of course you know. All the family expectations, and people wanting to get the most out of something. And of course I want to do my best. Father was on at me about something earlier, that’s all.”

“You shine, when you’re at your peak.” Thessaly offered it as a compliment, and it was accurate enough. “I won’t pry, then. It’s just, well.” She let out a little huff of breath. “I worry that I’m missing something, you know? That will be a problem for later, because I didn’t notice it now.”

That made him laugh, suddenly entirely cheerful. “Oh, don’t worry about that at all. If there’s something to know, someone will tell you. Probably me.” Childeric granted her another of his entirely sunny smiles, the kind that every woman she knew wanted to have directed at her. “I promise.”

There really wasn’t a good argument to be made about that. Or rather, if she argued, she’d be saying straight out that she didn’t trust him, and that wouldn’t go anywhere useful or pleasant. “Thank you, then. Now, what have you been up to that you can talk about?”

He hadn’t asked her about her apprenticeship, not since he’d turned up at Magistra North’s a few weeks ago. No, it was more than a month ago, now. Time had slipped by. Childeric considered for a moment as they walked, the kind of pause that Thessaly expected was him sorting through what he could share. Not whether she’d be interested, he didn’t weight that highly in his decisions. Besides, she was interested in many things. “Oh, the usual. A spot of duelling, a spot of gaming. There was this excellent horse race last week, I’ll come back to that. But I had a chat with a chap, oh, last week sometime, about an interesting Incantation application.”

“I’d love to hear about it.” Thessaly made her reply immediate and warm, squeezing his arm slightly with his hand. “Please. Go on?”

It got him started on a long spiel about a particular approach. He did the thing he often did, of simultaneously explaining things she knew very well in unnecessary detail and then brushing over the parts she didn’t. Here, he covered things she’d had in class at Schola - which he must have known, he’d taken the same class. And then he entirely breezed through the newer implications, a couple of articles she hadn’t read.

“What was the title of that one again? I’d love to look it up?” She got that in during a brief break in his words.

“Oh, hmm. Something like ‘The Words and Values’. I can look it up, I suppose, if you remind me after tea. I have notes somewhere.” That phrase would not help at all. It was a common enough term to turn up in the literature. And he’d just referred to the person he’d been talking to as Maz, and she was pretty sure that was a nickname. She made a mental note to ask him after tea, yes.

By this point, they’d come down along the long edge of the gardens, and the salle rose into view as they crested the slight hill. She could see Garin, Childeric’s young cousin - Dagobert and Laudine’s son - out playing with a hoop and stick. It was one of the more popular of the magical children’s games. It helped a child learn to apply charms to guide the hoop and improve their precision and grasp of magic.

She leaned a little into Childeric. “It must be hard, Garin being on his own. You and Sigbert had each other to play with, and Garin doesn’t have anyone.”

“No, it’s nearly as many years to the Mortimer cousins. They’re still babies.” Childeric paused, half-turning to her. “Do you think about children very much, in the specific, then?”

It was rather an odd question. She and Childeric were certainly committed by their agreements to doing their best to have some. Thessaly decidedly understood that was part of the general expectation of being a married woman, though, of course, not every married woman did. And there were people like Aunt Metaia, who’d ignored that whole line of things. Here and now, she nodded. “Of course I’ve thought about it some. And Hermia’s enough younger I’ve, I don’t know, seen her grow up, when I was old enough to pay attention. And she’s six years younger. That’s enough of a gap we didn’t play together much, not like if we were closer.”

Not that Thessaly hadn’t - didn’t - enjoy time with her sister, but with that sort of difference in the ages, one or the other of them generally had to adapt to the other. Hermia had not gone to Schola. The Ministry had offered her a place at Alethorpe, and their parents had turned it down flat. Alethorpe was for girls and boys who needed to work for their living, who needed to become experts in magical crafts. Not for a Lytton and not for a Powell, they’d been unified on that point.

Instead, Hermia was studying at a small day school run by an intimidating older spinster in Trellech, learning a variety of skills suitable for a woman of good breeding. It included a bit of magic, of course. There were many and varied charms for enhancement and hostessing. But she was also learning also how to make conversation in a range of circumstances, play the pianoforte and the harp, and do suitable delicate painting of appropriate subjects. Mostly, that apparently involved still lives of rosebuds. No suggestive drooping petals were allowed.

It had, on one hand, created a bit more of a gap than Thessaly had wanted. She’d so much looked forward to sharing Hermia’s stories of Schola. On the other hand, Hermia seemed happy enough, and she certainly read enough books on her own to float in knowledge for decades to come.

Childeric nodded once. “I’m glad you’re. How does one put this, considering the situation we will find ourselves in?” He waved a hand. “I’ve not had much to do with Garin. And of course, there will be a nursemaid and nanny and tutors. You won’t need to raise a finger about any of the tedious parts.”

“As you say.” Something in her tone hit him wrong, and she could see that. She leaned to kiss his cheek. “If you’d rather go off and do whatever you’ve been thinking about, I could meet you back up at the house in, I don’t know, half an hour?”

“If I come back without you, someone will be annoyed. Probably Grand-mère.” Childeric considered. “Where are you going to be?”

“I thought I might go lend a hand with Garin, if you wanted time. You could meet me back here?” Thessaly hadn’t really formed the thought until she spoke, but it was a fine and reasonable one.

“Forty-five minutes, then. And mind you don’t muss your dress.” She was about to object that she knew far more about managing her frocks than he did, when he offered that charming grin again. “Grand-mère will notice.”

“Of course. See you in a little, then.” Childeric nodded once, dropping her arm, and wheeled about, heading off on a beeline for - well - somewhere. One of the outbuildings, maybe. There was a whole cluster of them off that way.

Thessaly waited until he was a good thirty feet away. Then she picked up her skirts a little to make her way down the hill and into the hollow where the salle was. “Garin, do you want some help with that? I’ve a few minutes.”

Garin looked up at her, blinking as if he weren’t sure what to do with the offer. He was nine, and Thessaly couldn’t help thinking he was not suited to be a nine-year-old. He had a certain amount of inherent dignity that didn’t suit the age. Solitude - being alone among his cousins in age - had given him a self-possession or an interior focus that contrasted sharply with most of the other children she’d known. “Thank you, Mistress Thessaly.” He also had a formality to his manners, though admittedly she was both not yet a cousin by marriage, and she was an adult. He had to call her something other than her bare forename.

“The hoop? Or something else? I’m not dressed for duelling, but I could get you started on a few drills, if you liked?” A lot of the idea of future children was rather opaque in her mind, still. But she kept getting flashes of what it would be like to teach someone - Garin’s age or a little younger - the basics. She couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, and besides, children’s clothes for active play overlapped a bit. But she could see, she could even more clearly feel, the movements and the early charms for aiming and protecting.

“Oh, I’d like that. Sigbert said you’re very good.” He looked around, as if sure one of his cousins was going to drop out of the open air. “Even better than Childeric, he said.”

It made her laugh. “I have promised not to duel Childeric in public. You can work out the answer from there, I hope? Don’t tease Childeric about it, though. You know he wouldn’t like it.” Honesty made her add, “And I don’t think either of us would like being around when he feels like that.”

It made Garin tilt his head. “In that case, I definitely would appreciate you showing me a few things. In the salle?”

“That’s probably more sensible, isn’t it? It’s not a problem, I have permission to use it. And I’m not going to show you anything complicated today. I’m not dressed for it, and I need to be presentable for tea. Come along, then.” She took the steps over to the salle, pressing her hand to the door to open the warding. She did the same again inside on the panel to bring up the charm lights, feeding a little of her own magic. “Now, you’ve had a few lessons already, haven’t you? Can you show me what you know? I’m going to go find a target you can aim at.”

That would be both tidier on her end - she was perfectly capable of levitating it rather than wrestling it in place physically - and better practice. More to the point, it was something he could continue on his own with someone else supervising. She went off to the storage to find one of the simple targets, while he positioned himself. “Right handed, we’re going to want to talk about your feet in a second. Don’t you let me forget.”

As she turned away to rummage in the storage, she caught a glimpse of Garin smiling, then waiting patiently for her to come back. She considered, setting an alarm chime on her watch, clipped to a fold of her bodice, to remind her when it had been half an hour. That way, they’d have time to clean up and she could tidy her hair.