Chapter 43

JULY 16TH IN TRELLECH’S CEMETERY

W hile Vitus took a moment to think, Thessaly had to do the same. Not about the recent Council challenges. She was fairly sure what she’d say, and most of it was at least nominally accessible from public sources. Instead, she was thinking about how different this conversation felt with Vitus, compared to Childeric a few days ago.

For one thing, it was an actual conversation, as opposed to a duel with a badly matched opponent. And the more she thought about it, the more frustrated she was by Childeric. Not just not telling her, not thinking to tell her, in advance. That was a whole other wound she’d come back to. But even when he’d shown up to call, he hadn’t thought to ask if she could be any help. He kept walling her out of anything that might let her take steps toward him.

She’d agreed to the marriage for all sorts of reasons, practical ones and being fairly sure she could build a life she liked with him, whatever he decided to do with himself. Now, she was questioning many parts of that. He’d sat through the negotiations, the same as she had. He’d signed the agreements three times over, ink and magic and oath. She’d thought that was about her becoming a Fortier, and instead she was finding herself stuck in some impossible in-between space that left her unsure where to find solid ground. In the middle of the river, balancing precariously on an unsteady rock, that was the metaphor she wanted.

Vitus cleared his throat. “I appreciate this. Being able to talk through it with someone other than Niobe. Are you comfortable before I start? I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring anything.”

“It is a cemetery,” Thessaly pointed out. “They discourage that sort of thing.” Then she glanced down at their hands. “I like this. How we’re sitting, how we’re talking. The spaces of it.” She couldn’t bring herself to come out and say it was the connection of it, the simple, decent humanity, but that, too. She hoped he understood.

“I do too.” He hesitated, as if he might have said something more. “Romulus Heath three years ago, Fox House and Alchemy, but also Illusion, yes?”

Thessaly nodded. “There has been a lot more fuss about keeping people out of magical spaces, the last decade or so. That’s part of what Aunt Metaia did, and Romulus Heath does it too. Good to not just have one person to rely on.” She shivered. She could feel it being obvious, because no one had talked about death as a particular problem, but of course it was. “Not likely in the current batch of candidates, though.”

“Wait, you know who else?” Vitus blinked at her, his fingers tightening on her hand. “Childeric. Theo Carrington, as I said.”

“Cyrus Smythe-Clive has put in his name. And Heliotrope Masterson.” When he blinked at her, uncertain, Thessaly said, “Incantation, and I gather she wasn’t a bad bohort player. Not a duellist, older than you, I don’t know that you overlapped. Fox, of course. I don’t know what her plans are, though. Maybe one or two more, but there’s still time.” She nudged his thumb with hers. “Go on.”

“Hestia Palgrave, Owl, to mix things up a little. She’s a warding specialist, and I suppose that goes with the illusion needs, doesn’t it? I gather her challenge was unusually short, actually. Quiet, I guess that’s how people describe it in some of the write ups later.”

“She’s quiet, so that doesn’t surprise me. Not unfriendly. Actually, if you get her talking about one of her interests, she can go on. But more the sort who needs to be drawn out than someone who wants to be the centre of anything.” Thessaly nodded. “Justus Livingstone?”

Vitus snorted. “Also an Owl, the sort who lives and breathes a library. He’s a researcher, first and foremost, I can see how that might be handy. Though I’m fairly clear he didn’t have to fight for his challenge, did he?” Vitus tilted his head. “I’m thinking about what you said about puzzles that can be solved in multiple ways. What your aunt said, I mean.”

“Like that. Because even just the three we’ve named have different skills. And the challengers. Cyrus isn’t a horrid duellist, but it’s not his best skill, he’s a ritualist. Or was. I’m not sure he knows who he is, though I think he’s close to finishing his apprenticeship.” Now that she thought about it, that implied that he was both more clever than was immediately obvious. And also that he could be extremely dedicated, given the death of his wife and the devastation he still clearly felt. “And Childeric’s not a very good duellist, so if he’s relying on that, he’s going to have problems.”

“Also Incantation, isn’t he? Like Theo.” Vitus turned his free hand palm up. “Quintessence Percival, which is a name that always makes me stop and wonder about nominal determination as a theory. Also a ritualist, and I know for a fact he’s in Animus Mundi.”

Thessaly nodded. “He’s written a few papers for their journal. Later to challenge, but that meant he came in with more experience. If Cyrus is getting assistance or advice, I bet it’s from him. Cyrus’s apprentice mistress is close to the Percivals.”

“Fox House analysis,” Vitus said, very gently. “It is fascinating to see it at work.” Then he stopped, another of those hesitations, before he went on, determined. “Hesperidon Warren.”

“Also Incantation, though he makes something of a show of his duelling skill. I’ve seen him a few times. He’s not bad, though not quite as good as he’d like everyone to think. But he doesn’t like duelling women at all.” Thessaly considered that indicative of the man, how he won most of his bouts, but through a certain do-or-die determination rather than having the best skills.

Vitus contemplated that for a moment. “Also a bit later to challenge, yes? Do you think it makes a difference if someone’s younger or older?”

“Hereswith Rowan had a career in the diplomatic service, before.” Thessaly said. “I’ve heard her talk about it - the Crimean War. She saw the decisions being made, and she decided there had to be a better way. Which meant the Council, to do what she thought needed doing. As she said, the trouble with that sort of motivation is that it also meant she was determined to challenge to become head.” She had to look away at that. Her eyes were tearing up. She remembered, she loved, those more informal conversations on the comfortable benches out in the garden or the comfy chairs in the library, with Aunt Metaia and Magistra Hereswith. Or sometimes there would be one or two other people, just talking away and letting her hear.

Vitus nodded, slowly, then he reached out his hand to touch her cheek. “I’m sorry. That’s a memory, a good one, but it hurts right now.”

“Good and hurts.” Thessaly agreed, taking a breath before she looked back at him. “I’d rather, I mean. Not duck around talking about it? FitzAlan is also a duellist, also the warding and protective magics. He coordinates a lot with the Guard and Courts, when someone has to do that, but I’ve heard he had quite a, um. The sort of youth where he had to leave the country a couple of times because of duels of questionable illegality.”

“Wait, what?” Vitus blinked, and his hand dropped down to cover hers, so now both of his hands were curled around her gloved one. “There must be all sorts of stories there. Not just about him.”

Thessaly nodded. “Oh, there are lots. Books of them. Sometime when we run out of other topics, I could tell you about them. If you like.” Then she tried to make sense of his expression, which had gone odd again, like a horse straining against some command, or a hound. All the training going one way, and all the instinct wanting to run in another direction entirely. “Are you all right?”

“Yes? No? I mean, I’m fine.” Vitus swallowed. She could see him do it. “There’s something I keep thinking, and I can’t.”

Thessaly wasn’t sure what to do with that at all. “Thinking is usually not the problem. Doing might be, but thinking is different.”

“Oh, this is a problem, too. Even with what you’ve told me already.” Vitus looked down at their hands, then back up at her.

“Is it something you can tell me?” Thessaly wasn’t sure what to do with this. She could feel emotion in the space between them. She could tell there was something there that had weight and took up space.

“I would like very much to kiss you. And I am not, because—” His voice stalled.

Oh. That put a particular light on things. Thessaly glanced around, wanting to make sure no one had come up behind them. Then, spacing out the words carefully, like the jet beads she was wearing hung on silk thread, she said, “I would like very much to be kissed. By you.”

Before either of them could think better of it, he leaned in, kissing her lightly on the lips. He didn’t press at the kiss, though when her mouth opened to him, he explored that, just a little. One of his hands shifted to her upper arm for balance, and he took his time. It was nothing like the kisses she’d had with boys at school, and especially not like Childeric, who had always had his own ideas about how things should go. This wasn’t a duel. This was setting up magic together, reading the other person to make something together, something only they could do.

She wanted more of it, but then she remembered where she was. Where they were, and she pulled back reluctantly. Vitus let her, though he left his hand on her arm, turned more intimately toward her. When she could speak, she asked what she most wanted to know. “What does that mean to you?”

“Before I say more, nothing I say obligates you to anything. And you’ve been clear about your agreements, and.” Then, before he could go on and blather, he swallowed and managed something simpler and tangled, all at once. “I’m quite sure I’ve fallen in love with you. And I want the best for you, as lovers ought. Tell me what you need from me, it doesn’t matter if you requite me or not, and I will do my best to make that happen.”

He was putting all the power in her hands. All his skills, all his thoughtfulness, all his kindness. Thessaly took a deep breath and then met his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you. For you to be hurt. And I...”

Before she could say anything else, there was a call from over behind Vitus’s shoulder. “Thessaly? Thessaly Lytton-Powell, is that you? Goodness, girl, what are you doing all the way out here?”

She pulled back with a jerk, and Vitus dropped her hands and rearranged himself. It was someone who knew Mama; she was sure of it. Possibly others. Before she turned to face that new challenge, she got out the words she needed him to hear. “I want more time with you.” She couldn’t say what she felt for him yet, beyond that, beyond yearning for that, but she wanted so desperately to find out.

Then she was standing, brushing her skirts out, and figuring out who was approaching. “Oh, Mistress Pembroke.” She gestured at Vitus. “Master Deschamps was kind enough to escort me. I was making a few visits. You’re here to tend your sister’s flowers, aren’t you? Might I lend a hand?” She wasn’t at all sure how much Mistress Pembroke had seen. But perhaps the conversation over the grave would let Thessaly do enough illusion work with word and implication that the older woman wouldn’t spread gossip near and far. It was a narrow hope. The Pembroke sisters, all five of them still living, loved to pass along their little tidbits.

Vitus stood beside her, and he bowed. “My pleasure, Mistress Lytton-Powell, as always. Mistress Pembroke.” He touched his hat and then he was making his way back to the path and up and around, without looking back. Thessaly realised he was like Orpheus determined to do the thing that was needed now, an Orpheus who had learned from earlier mistakes and would not look back for anything, an Orpheus whose love rang deeper than all the doubts and uncertainties of their world.

* * *

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Enchanted Net is the first book of a trilogy. Silent Circuit will be out on November 15th, 2024 and Elemental Truth (the last book, with the happily-ever-after) will be out on December 13th, 2024. Get the rest of Thessaly and Vitus’s story!

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Read on for more historical details about this book and how it fits into other tales of Albion.