Long Distance Relationship

Usually, Isla had no trouble juggling multiple conversations, but after a brief meeting in the corridor with Sylphon Basqwend, she sank gratefully into her favorite chair, kicked off her shoes, and realized her mistake.

Sorry, please disregard

wrong screen

long day

Lapis texted back.

Who was that meant for?

Uncle Jackie

My mystification redoubles

Why is Jacques applying to you

about feline consort culture?

He has a new employee or something, “his man”

Anjou was raised in the feline courts

Did you know they have Dichotomy Day

gift-giving conventions that vary widely

depending on whether your locale is experiencing

the longest day or the longest night?

I did not

At least not with regards to hearthcats

This being a winter solstice at Stately House

The color of a tom’s blaze has import,

As opposed to the color of their eyes

Except, of course, in those rare instances

when eyes and blaze are the same color,

in which case, a lady mistress’s whim

will dictate the appropriate colored stone,

A novelty which led to a fad two millennia ago

To breed for matching blaze and eye color

Blue being the most successful

Ah. I’m rambling.

Nonsense. I hang upon your every word

Are you being snide?

Do not think it, my dear

Should I call so you can hear for yourself

Every nuance of my interest

I assure you, it’s real enough

No need to call

I believe you

How gratifying

Isla smiled. She was aware that her enthusiasm for any given topic exceeded that of the average listener. One of the diplomatic arts was listening, so she’d learned to curb her tongue. But with some people, she never had to check herself. Lapis was one of the few people who listened attentively, no matter the topic. Perhaps it was because they were both scholars at heart. Or maybe it was because they trod similar paths, both in public and behind the scenes. Either way, Lapis never came empty-handed to their discussions.

Dragons have similar obsessions with color

The accumulation of a full spectrum of brides

Became popular once Beckonthrall’s children

Began arriving in every conceivable hue

Aren’t four brides traditional?

Exceedingly so

However, some harems aspired to more

Collecting beauties in every color was fashionable

Thankfully, the practice has fallen by the wayside

Why *thankfully*?

Were there not enough brides to go around?

Obsessions often have a dark side

Children with unusual coloring were prized

The purpose of harems became warped

In what way?

Ask me on another day

In any case, I am at Stately House

So I can see for myself that Jacques

is pleased with his man

Why are you back at Stately House?

To rest

I thought …! Weren’t *we* going to meet?

Isla checked her calendar. December tenth. According to what Lapis had told her earlier, there was another week before he’d planned for a long sleep.

What changed?

Please, don’t be hurt by my little whim

I’d hoped Jacques would be available, but alas!

Instead, I prevailed upon the Evernhold toms

Isla was disappointed in Lapis for thwarting her plans. She’d wanted to be the one pampering him and protecting him. And there was the rock imp to consider. If he’d only waited a week, they might have been able to learn something of import about their chrysalis. Weren’t they uniquely suited to the task, being specialists in crystals, lore, and the like?

But in an unforeseen twist of happenstance

I have been welcomed into Hisoka’s care

She gasped. Then slowly typed,

You’re with Sensei?

Is he there?

No, my dear

I have been strolling through the house

Admiring Nonny’s decorations

The greening of the foyer is underway

Lapis sent through a picture that showed most of Stately House’s entryway—marble floor, double staircases curving up and away, and a tree so fresh from the forest, snow clung to its branches. Four wolves steadied the lofty pine—Adoona, Ninook, Boon, and Pim.

Nonny was looking dapper, his Dickensian top hat at a rakish angle, and Jacques supervised, a toddler braced against his shoulder. One of the new dragon crossers, that much Isla could tell. She hadn’t really had the time to get to know any of them yet. Suuzu and Akira were in the thick of it, though, alongside Sonnet, doling out cups. Probably cocoa.

She searched greedily for any sign of Sensei, but both he and Rhomiko were missing from the scene. Which meant they were elsewhere. Possibly alone together.

A knock startled her. “Yes?”

Boniface Smythe entered, a sheaf of papers held in front of him like a shield. “The information you requested? I would have forwarded it, but Sylphon seems to think everything should be handwritten. Lord, why don’t more Amaranthine know how to type?”

“Hello, Uncle Boniface.” He was new, and she hadn’t gotten to know him yet, either. Hisoka-sensei would have called her priorities into questions. If he’d been here. Which he wasn’t. Making more of an effort, she said, “You’re looking festive.”

“Am I?” He glanced down at his suit.

“Who chose your tie?”

“It was a gift. From Sylphon.”

“That’s really very sweet of him. In naga culture, fizmer are highly prized.”

Boniface untucked his tie in order to study the wavering patterns of green lines. “What now? What’s a fizmer?”

“They’re a type of Ephemera that can be found in long grasses.” She set aside her phone and came around the desk, which seemed to fluster Uncle Boniface. Isla indicated the knotted silk. “I’ll just show you, shall I?”

He slowly, slowly shifted into a receptive posture.

She didn’t budge. “I make you uncomfortable.”

“Entirely possible.”

“Why, please? I’m willing to adjust my behavior in order to put you more at ease.”

He tucked a lock of his chin-length bob behind an ear. “It’s not like you can stop being female.”

That surprised her. “I wasn’t aware you have gynophobia.”

“I don’t. Well, maybe I do. If you ever met Maman, you’d understand. I have cause to be wary.”

“Do I remind you of her?”

He held up thumb and forefinger. “No offense.”

“None taken. You must tell me when I do something that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Right. Much appreciated. Will do. So … I’m sporting fizmers?”

“Fizmer is both the singular and plural form. And they’re just here. Among the reeds.” She drew a finger along the fabric, which had a subtle pattern of wavy lines. “The teensy orange dots are their eyes.”

“Lord, you’re right,” he whispered, as if afraid to frighten away the eensy amphibians. “Why are they prized? Not for their looks, surely.”

Isla smiled. “For their songs. Fizmer have been called riverbank minstrels and Nicobar crooners. In the old literature, one bard even calls them the wolves of the wallows, since their soaring calls are reminiscent of wolfsong. For Sylphon, this pattern would be traditional and nostalgic. You honor him by wearing it.”

Boniface went very still. “I haven’t blundered into a courting ritual, have I?”

“A gift like this amounts to a traditional blessing, not a proposition. Sylphon likes you, and with naga, that leads to generous impulses.”

“Is wearing his gift a sufficient compliment, or should I be considering a return gift.”

Isla was impressed. Her newfound uncle was good at social cues. Magarr was already singing his praises, albeit behind Boniface’s back. “A return gift would be entirely appropriate. Perhaps something for Christmas, since that’s part of your heritage? I was just talking to … oh, no! Lapis!”

She hastily retrieved her phone.

So sorry!

Didn’t mean to leave you hanging.

Do not worry yourself over me

I am willing to wait as long as necessary

For your attention to bend my way

Boniface is here

What a coincidence

His brother just mentioned him

Did he, now?

Do me a favor

Call Uncle Jackie over

Ask him to think of a color

As you wish, my dear

Moments later, Lapis texted a selfie showing him and Jacques cheek-to-cheek. The man was fairly sparkling with happiness.

We are, as he says,

neatly situated

Holiday cheer looks well on him

Isla pointed to Boniface and ordered, “Think of a color!”

The man frowned, shrugged, and said, “Auburn.”

Lapis texted Uncle Jackie’s response.

He says peridot is too predictable

So his official answer is auburn

“for personal reasons”

“Uncle Jackie has some personal attachment to auburn?”

“One of his middle names is Auberon. With an A and U, not O, like the Shakespearean king of the fairies, which would have been hilariously on the nose. Anyhow, when he was little, Jackie thought Auberon was a reference to his hair color.”

“One of his middle names.”

“Maman has always been exceptionally pretentious. We are both of us quite encumbered.”

Isla wanted to ask for more particulars, but instead she said, “Right. Pick … umm. Pick an animal.” Then she typed the same order to Lapis.

Boniface’s expression was baffled, but he answered, “Hedgehog.”

Hedgehog

And he wants you to blow Bon-Bon a kiss

Lapis, they’re in sync

I’m not so sure

Jacques is aware you’re with his brother

He’s answering with Boniface in mind

Granted but … okay

Name ANY Christmas carol

And she turned to Boniface. “What’s the first Christmas carol that comes to mind?”

He warily said, “Coventry Carol.”

Isla’s phone rang. It was Uncle Jackie, and she picked up. “What did you pick?” she asked. “I haven’t typed anything, so even Lapis doesn’t know.

“Lord, this is diverting. But also vexing. Put me on speaker, but before you do, swear.”

“Anything.”

“Tell me if he forgets himself and sings along.” And then Uncle Jackie—in his usual flamboyant style—began to sing. “In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan …!”

She hastily put him on speaker. Then did a little happy dance. Another match.

Boniface looked vaguely worried. “Yes, well. So?”

Isla was too busy typing to answer.

Lapis, they’re in perfect sync

Perhaps, perhaps not

They had the same answer

They’re drawing upon shared history

You may only be seeing

What you hope to find

“Don’t forget the lamb cravings,” she muttered as she typed her retort.

Boniface tentatively declared, “Jackie doesn’t care for lamb.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed.

Is Papka around?

He needs to know!

On the other end, Jacques’ impromptu concert grew in volume as more voices joined the chorus. But Lapis must have gotten her message across because someone handed Jacques’ phone off to her father.

Papka said, “Isla! It’s the most remarkable thing …!”

“I knew it!” Isla pointed between Uncle Boniface and the phone. “I was right!”

“About what?”

“You and Uncle Jackie,” she announced. “You’re resonating!”

“Lord. If you say so,” Boniface muttered as he put his tie back to rights. And began to hum along.