Chapter Text
“I beg your pardon?!”
Aranessa normally kept better control of her words, but her shock was so great that she couldn’t still her tongue before they slipped out.
“Oh, no need to beg, dear” Yanessa Halovar replied cheerfully, “That’s what our little arrangement is for, once you agree, we’ll be happy to grant Thjazi a pardon.”
This time Aranessa managed to control her reaction. Thjazi, that was the reason she was here. Despite the waning power of House Royce, she had arrived that morning at the Villa Aurora hoping her name would be enough to grant her an audience with the Halovars, hoping against hope that she could prevent the execution set to take place this very afternoon, and now, it seemed, all her hopes had been presented to her on silver platter. And yet…
“To be be perfectly clear,” she said carefully, “You are agreeing to spare Thjazi Fang, to take him on as an Aspirant of the Candescent Creed, where he will serve as penance for his crimes, but in return, you wish for me to publicly announce my divorce from him and enter into a marriage alliance with House Tachonis.”
Primus Tachonis spoke up for the first time in the meeting thus far.
“Surely you understand that a united front is necessary to purge the city of the rotting rhetoric of such a malcontent,” he said, his voice lacking in affect. “Thjazi Fang gained much of his notoriety and supposed mystique, shall we say, through his exploits during the War of Axe and Vine, and by his marriage to you. By both denying his chance to make a martyr of himself and denouncing the latter, his influence will swiftly fade.”
Here he paused, his gaze deepening as it fixed itself upon Aranessa.
“And surely House Royce should be eager to purge itself of such connections, ones of such irrelevancy and waning influence.”
Aranessa very carefully did not allow her hands to even so much as twitch, lest she give into the temptation to wipe that hint of a sneer off of Primus’s face. She had not missed the insinuations of that last line, and found it utterly infuriating given that they both knew that House Tachonis had profited off of the same act that had closed Faerie. But closed door or not, Aranessa had no intention of becoming another vassal house to House Tachonis.
“House Royce” she began delicately, “of course, chooses its connections most carefully, as we have since even the Shaper’s War and before, for you are quite correct in saying that it is unwise to bind oneself and one’s House to a losing cause as it were.”
The flinty glint in Primus’s eye told her that he had caught her honeyed barb. Good.
Aranessa continued.
“And on the subject of connection,” she said, “I don’t believe we’ve ever bound ourselves to House Tachonis before.”
Left unsaid, of course, was and I see no reason why we should.
“Perhaps not in marriage,” Primus replied smoothly, “but did House Royce not travel west with us after the Shaper’s War? Does House Royce not still sit with us in the Chamber of the Lords-Advisory?”
And then leaning forward ever so slightly, he twisted the knife just a little bit more.
“And did House Royce not fight at our side during the Falconer’s Rebellion?”
Aranessa said nothing, to deny it would be a lie, but to admit it would be a weakness.
“So you see,” Primus continued, his eyes glittering with the satisfaction of her silence, “You are already bound to us, this is just a matter of formalizing it in the eyes of the public. A reassurance that House Royce has not .... fallen behind, as it were.”
And there was the harrying hound meant to drive her into the nets, Aranessa thought grimly, to refuse would be to further diminish the standing of House Royce amongst the other Sundered Houses. Despite her best efforts, the Tachonis’s had noticed her waning power, and should she reject them now, they would make that knowledge very, very public, possibly even costing her any alliance with all the other Houses as well, certainly with House Halovar given the location of this meeting and Yanessa’s presence.
But the hounds hadn’t caught her just yet.
“I see your point” she replied, careful to keep her tone neutral, “And certainly House Royce still stands in alliance with its fellow Sundered Houses, but marriage is such a delicate proposition. And all the more so for Heads of House, after all, any who married me would take my name, and I’d always thought your sons rather proud of theirs, Primus.”
Proud was a charitable way of putting it. Ethrand Tachonis was one of the most arrogant pricks she had ever had the misfortune of meeting, with his odious sycophancy towards his father ensuring he didn’t even have the charm to make up for it. And what she had seen of his younger brothers wasn’t much better. No, Aranessa couldn’t see any of them being willing to humble themselves as consort rather than Lord, and as ruling Lady of House Royce, she would accept no less.
“And besides,” she continued, “Surely, the Golden Orchard is a bit lively for those of your House’s particular leanings, I doubt such a pairing would be fruitful.”
“I understand your concerns,” Primus replied smoothly, “And I assure you, I have selected the candidate most carefully. My youngest, Occtis, will have no issue in taking your name. As is the way of youngest sons, he stands to inherit little, and thus will only be grateful for our regard towards him.”
“And as for your second concern,” he continued, his hands steepling on the table in front of him, “Occtis does not share my family’s gift, although he has had some study of arcanism at the Penteveral. As such, I suspect he might prove quite, what was it you said, ah yes, fruitful, for both our Houses.”
Occtis. Aranessa wracked her brain, trying to remember meeting any Tachonis by that name. She certainly had not in recent memory. And then it came to her, a flash of memory, of stepping outside for air during a gala, and seeing a young boy, perhaps eight or so, at the edge of her garden looking up at Thimble in awe as she fluttered near him. She had thought it sweet at the time, but now the memory made her sick. That had been less than two decades ago. The boy couldn’t be more than Shadia’s age now, if that.
“Occtis,” she began slowly, “Unless my memory escapes me, is he not quite.. young, for such a proposal?”
Yanessa Halovar cackled, startling Aranessa a little as her focus broke and her gaze left Primus.
“Oh, my Lady Royce,” she said smiling, “There’s no need to be so coy. Besides, it’s not as though you’ve been subtle these past years.”
“I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning,” Aranessa replied somewhat stiffly, her mind whirling trying to figure out the Halovar Head’s angle.
“Well we’ve all seen that Davinos knight of yours that you keep leashed so close to your side,” Yanessa replied, still smiling with an infuriatingly knowing look on her face. “Young, lithe, and dark-haired? The boy will suit you just fine.”
“I do not think I care for your insinuations,” Aranessa said icily, too infuriated to pick her words more carefully, “and I would ask that you speak of Sir Davinos with more respect.”
Yanessa arched an eyebrow.
“It’s hardly disrespect when he’s garnered such a well-known reputation for himself,” she replied snidely, “But I suppose we can change the subject, we were speaking of your future husband after all. As I said, the boy will suit you just fine, young, noble, learned but not powerful, what more could you ask for in a consort?”
“Indeed,” Primus said smoothly, sliding back into the conversation. “The boy is well-trained, and I have no doubt he will serve well. Unless, of course, you are refusing our most generous offer?”
We must not look at goblin men; we must not buy their fruits, Aranessa thought grimly, part of the childhood rhyme ringing in her mind.
She had learnt social warfare from members of the Courts, she knew well what a poisoned and honeyed gift looked like. But that didn’t mean she knew the nature of the poison, nor how to refuse the gift without reckless offense. And to move without knowledge, to step blindly, was to potentially bring her House to the edge of ruin. What she needed was time and space to peer through the shadows.
“We have thus far discussed the specifics of the marriage alliance,” she said smoothly, “but that is rather putting the cart before the horse, shall we not discuss the specifics of the divorce first?”
“Ah yes,” Yanessa Halovar brightened, producing a bundle of papers from the depths of her robes, “that’s rather easily taken care of. Here we’ve already had papers drawn up for you, and, of course, obtained Thjazi Fang’s signature.”
She slid the bundle across the table towards Aranessa, but Aranessa refused to let herself even glance at it.
(She didn’t want to know if the signature was real. She wasn’t even sure what would be worse.)
“Surely,” she said cooly, “you understand such matters require more than mere ink on a page. Besides, would it not be better for our shared interests to bring Thjazi out in public, to dissolve our marriage in front of a crowd. You even have one waiting for you, and he, this very afternoon.”
“Ah well,” Yanessa said, waving a hand, “We don’t wish to risk the wrong kind of spectacle, bring him out now and some people might get ideas.”
Aranessa very carefully did not think about the fact that she had been given word that Thaisha Lloy was in the city.
“No, no,” Yanessa continued, “Once he’s proper and penitent, we’ll let the public at him, but that will take time, and there’s no need to delay the divorce for that long, not to mention that a clear split will let him better focus on his, hmmm, his new position in life, shall we say.”
Aranessa arched an eyebrow.
“Then why not have him brought here?” She asked. “Have it witnessed by those of the right rank to release the information. If you give me but a little time, I’m sure the other Heads would be willing to come, or at the very least my vassal houses.”
There was then a bit of an awkward pause, as Yanessa Halovar tried and failed to keep her gaze from darting towards Primus Tachonis, whose face was much more impassive.
“Ah,” Yanessa began with a tone of delicacy, “I, I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Thjazi Fang is, if I’m not mistaken, already on his way out of the city.”
Aranessa’s eyes sharpened, here was the opening she needed.
“Oh?” She asked, carefully keeping her tone unconcerned, “Well perhaps you can send word to your men to bring him back, Yanessa. I can’t imagine they’ve gone too far past Dol-Makjar’s borders.”
Yanessa hesitated again, before being cut off by Primus.
“That is not possible,” he said curtly, “And unnecessary. We have his signature and thus he will not return to the city until he is fit to be seen. The Creed can have their pageantry then, but for now…”
He gestured towards the papers. Next to him, Yanessa Halovar nodded, although Aranessa could detect the slightest hint of annoyance in the downward twitch of her mouth.
Interesting, Aranessa thought. It seemed there were some cracks in the Halovar-Tachonis alliance. For all the Halovar’s were claiming custody of Thjazi, it was very clear that House Tachonis was the driving force behind this plan, and the ones keeping control of her husband. Perhaps she could use that going forward.
But why be so focused on keeping Thjazi out of Dol-Makjar? It puzzled her, why wouldn’t House Tachonis want to make a spectacle of their divorce? Did they fear the possibility of rescue that much? A part of her wondered if they had already killed Thjazi and sought to dangle to false promise of his life as a lure, but no, not only would such a venture be exceedingly fragile and risky, but if she concentrated but a little, she could still feel the tug of her marriage oath, still kept with the binding power of the fae, although more withered than it once had been, that told her that Thjazi was still alive.
It was the power of that oath now that would grant her the time she needed. Time to peer through the light and shadows that sought to blind her and find the best path forward.
“Do you think the oaths of the Royce are so easily discarded?” she said, letting a little of the outrage she had been feeling this whole meeting seep into her voice, “That we should abandon our word at the behest of mere ink and parchment? No, for the oath to be broken, the vows undone, both parties must be present to unbind it.”
This statement vexed the two of them, she could tell, while neither of them were so uncouth as to actually frown, she noted the tightness around Yanessa’s eyes and the minuscule flex of Primus’s hand. She had made her opening, now to slip the net.
Allowing herself to seem to soften, she said, “But if I may offer a compromise..?”
As she suspected, Yanessa seized on it, play-acting cheerfulness even as her smile remained slightly strained.
“Well go on, Lady Royce, don’t leave us in suspense,” she said.
Primus said nothing, but Aranessa knew she had his attention.
“I realize,” she began, “that it will take some time before Thjazi is suitable for the public again, and that it is a risk to produce him before he is ready. And yet, without his presence, my divorce and subsequent remarriage are quite impossible. But an engagement is not.”
“An engagement,” Primus repeated slowly.
“Yes,” she said, keeping her tone carefully pleasant “An engagement, one that can be announced publicly, at my gala later this week even, making it quite clear to Dol-Makjar where House Royce stands. And if it is to be a long engagement, long enough for Thjazi to be fit for the public, well, such things are common among our kind, and it allows Occtis and I time to know each other before our vows, something I’m sure he will appreciate, especially as he’s been out of society these past few years, has he not?”
Primus gave a slight incline of his head.
“Then a long engagement might even be for the best,” Aranessa continued, now more confident in her path, “A youngest son who's been out of society, suddenly faced with the duties and scrutiny due to the Lord-Consort of House Royce? I’m sure he must have expressed his concerns about his suitability when you spoke to him on the matter, did he not?”
She then looked expectantly at Primus, making it clear that she expected an answer rather than having offered a rhetorical question. She knew so little about her prospective spouse, and while Primus was hardly a worthy source, anything she could glean would be helpful.
Primus’s tone was dismissive as he replied, “The boy will do his duty, but this engagement, you will announce it this week?”
Interesting, Aranessa thought once again, it might have just been a disregard for his son’s concerns, but it was equally possible that Primus had not even spoken to his son about this arrangement. Either way, that might give her a lever in regards to Occtis, playing on a possible desire for sympathy or taking advantage of his ignorance. She would need to get a hold of him swiftly following this meeting.
“This very week,” she nodded, “It doesn’t have the same weight as a proper oath, I know, but appearances can still be quite powerful, I’ve found, and thus I will be delighted to announce that House Tachonis has decided to continue its alliance to and support of House Royce.”
Primus smiled thinly.
“And we will be equally delighted to announce House Royce’s denouncement of Thjazi Fang and its renewed commitment to the Sundered Houses.”
Yanessa Halovar clapped her hands.
“Glad we’re all in agreement then,” she said. “I will speak at the would-be-execution this afternoon, let everyone know that we, the Candescent Creed, have received Thjazi Fang into our Light where he may prove his penitence as an Aspirant. And then, I will look forward to your gala, Lady Royce, when the rest of Dol-Makjar can learn of your acceptance of this blessed offer. And then, of course, I’ll be awaiting the invitation to your wedding itself. You know, if you should wish for an officiant, I would be more than willing.”
I’d sooner marry under the shadow of a dead Shaper before I’d turn to their so-called Light, Aranessa thought, but what she said aloud in the most pleasant tone she could muster was:
“I’ll keep that in mind once we’ve begun the planning. But speaking of planning, I now need to go let my staff know of the necessary adjustments for the gala.”
Rising from her seat, she gave the barest hint of a nod towards Primus.
“Primus, we’ll be in touch.”
Then without waiting for any further reply, she let herself sweep out of the damnable room.
Yanessa Halovar stood at the side of her stage, carefully reviewing the finer points of her speech in her head. Thankfully, most of her original speech was still usable, all that rot about the Light seeing and forgiving all, she just had to alter a few bits so it was less forgiveness in death, and more forgiveness though penitence and service to the Light.
She still had no idea what had caused House Tachonis to do an absolute turnaround on Thjazi Fang. Even just last night, they had made it clear the man had to die. She had floated her little Wicky’s idea of repentance just to test the waters, and they had shut it down before it had even left the harbor. And then, suddenly this morning, Tachonis at her door, looking to bring House Halovar on-side with a plan to threaten Thajzi’s wife into remarriage without killing the bastard husband in question. What a world!
But if Yanessa had learned one thing about holding onto power all these years, it was how to pivot when the world changed. She might not understand why the Tachonis’s had changed their minds (although she had her guesses), but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get something out of it. Thjazi Fang had always had a charisma to him that Yanessa could respect, made him a pain in the ass to deal with of course, but she hadn’t built up the Creed without knowing how much skill went into that kind of image-building.
Now previously, that skill was exactly why she had written him off as a problem. He hadn’t even served his wife, there was no way he’d serve the Light, too much of a wildfire, that one. But now, with that interesting item the Tachonis’s had so generously offered her use of, there was perhaps a chance to bank that fire, contain it, control it. And the idea of a man like Thjazi Fang and his charisma serving and spreading the Creed? Well, that Yanessa could work with.
Keeping this thought in mind, her smile became just a hair more genuine as she stepped forward to begin her speech.
“People of Dol-Makjar…”
At the bottom of the steps of the stage, Arcane Marshall Azune Nayar was trying very hard not to panic, and especially not to show any of that panic on his face. This was not at all going to plan. He didn’t even think the plan was still salvageable at this point, given Yanessa Halovar’s line about ‘starting his service in seclusion so as to sear away the impurities keeping him in shadow’. Thjazi’s custody had been transferred, and he probably wasn’t even in the city anymore.
How had everything changed so fast? Just yesterday, he’d been so sure he had it all under control, and now he felt like he didn’t know anything. Hal, he’d have to talk to Hal. With any luck, this sudden change was the result of Hal’s connections and pulling of strings, and he’d have a clear path forward, a way to be of use.
Bolaire Lathalia sat back in his seat as the Halovar matriarch left the stage. That had been both somewhat disappointing and less informative than he’d hoped. Oh, he hadn’t really thought he’d see Thjazi Fang die today, the man was too clever and too well connected. He’d held out a bit of hope, but well, perhaps Vaelus would still come through.
His main concern now was that, although Bolaire had been peripherally aware that there had been various wheels in motion, he actually wasn’t sure whose power play he had just seen play out here. Clearly the Halovar’s were involved, but given the expressions he’d been able to see on some of the other members in their box seat, Thjazi Fang’s new apparent commitment to the Creed was unknown to them, which had some fascinating implications.
Bolaire couldn’t help but to wonder if the Sundered Houses had in fact lost Thjazi Fang, due to a no doubt daring escape on his part, and were attempting to cover it up. He’d have to seek out Thimble, both to know the truth, and to determine how this affected their deal going forward.
At the back of the crowd, Occtis Tachonis was frantically trying to recalibrate. He wasn’t the only one, the rest of the crowd had seemed briefly confused by the announcement as well, although that was now shifting into cheers.
Next to him, a voice hissed into his ear.
“What the fuck just happened?” Thaisha asked, her hand gripping his shoulder, as her eyes darted in all directions, as though hoping the answer would suddenly appear.
“I don’t know”, Occtis said turning towards her, “I don’t know, this wasn’t what-, I mean, is this a good thing?”
They’d cancelled the execution after all, Thjazi was still alive, that had been their goal. Did this count?
“I don’t know about good,” Thaisha said darkly, her eyes now following Yanessa Halovar’s retreating form, “You heard what she said up there, about serving in penitence and burning out impurities, they’re still making an example out of him, just a different kind. And now we have no idea where he is…”
Occtis didn’t know exactly what kind of expression was on his face but he must have seemed stricken, because when Thaisha turned back towards him, her face visibly softened.
“Look, we’ll figure it out,” she said. “We’ll talk to Azune, talk to Thimble, see what they know, and we’ll make a new plan, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Occtis nodded. Make a new plan, he could do that, maybe.
“You going to be alright?” Thaisha asked, her thumb rubbing back and forth on his shoulder.
Occtis tried to force a smile, but it was more an upwards twitch of the lips than anything else.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be alright,” he said softly, before clearing his throat, “So, uh, what do we do next? I mean we were supposed to be leaving the city, but …”
“Right,” Thaisha replied, her brow furrowing, “We’ll go to Hal’s, there’s a chance he knows something, and even if he doesn’t, Azune and Thimble will probably be headed there too. Come on, let’s get ahead of the crowds."
With that, she turned and walked away from the still cheering crowds. Occtis took one last look at the emptying stage, before he turned and followed her further into the city. He didn’t understand what his family was doing, nor how the Halovar’s had gotten involved, but he was still going to help as best he could. He owed Thjazi that much.
Under the Guardian Wall, standing shoulder to shoulder with the people of Dol-Makjar, Halandil Fang was still trying to catch his breath, his gaze fixed on the blessedly empty stage, not moving even as the crowd cheered and jostled around him.
He had been prepared to see his younger brother die today.
He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to that, that his beseeching and deal-making had been enough, after all, what good were his words anyway if they couldn’t be leveraged to keep his loved ones safe? But still, he’d doubted, for he’d written enough tragedies to know how they went and how martyrs got made.
But Thjazi wasn’t dead, and Hal? Hal was less relieved than he thought he’d be.
Not that he was disappointed, of course not! But it still didn’t feel real, that his brother really was safe. It likely wouldn’t until he’d seen proof of his brother’s survival with his own eyes and felt the tightness ease from his chest. And for that, Hal needed to talk with Wicander.
Letting himself take one last long look, Hal then turned his back on the empty stage and walked away, hoping that this would be the start of a kinder story for him and his.
Julien snarled at the peon that dared to knock into him as he stormed away from the gallows. He had suspected there was more going on when his Lady Aranessa had taken him aside and commanded him in a worryingly urgent tone that he was to attend the execution this afternoon and report back everything Yanessa Halovar said.
But she had hesitated on the word execution, and, while Julien now knew why, at the time, when he’d asked, all she’d said was that she didn’t want to bias his perception or report, that she would explain everything once he returned.
Julien was now somewhat dreading that explanation. As much as he’d like to believe his lady’s unease was due to her finally recognizing the ill-character of her former husband, that she was discomfited by him escaping his rightful fate once again, unfortunately, Julien knew better.
Which made this situation all the more concerning, Julien knew Aranessa had gone to the Villa Aurora this morning to plead for clemency for Fang. That it seemed to have worked should have been a cause of relief for her, but instead her brow was pinched and her steps harried. Whatever deal she had made, it worried her.
Julien felt a familiar rage rise up within him, his fists clenching. Once more, Fang’s traitorous and reckless ways had caused harm, once more the cur had received more grace than he had earned. Damn him, damn him to whatever hells the Shapers now resided in!
Shoving past another reprobate, Julien made a decision, once he had reported to Aranessa, he was going to go out and get blind drunk.
In the depths of Dahapshanee Woods, a figure stumbled through the trees panting, throwing one hand out to the side to catch themselves on a nearby trunk as they lurched sideways.
“Gotta, gotta keep going,” they panted under their breath, “gotta move faster, fuck, stupid woods, stupid stone.”
Forcing themselves upright, they continued further north, deeper into the woods, even as the sun began to sink below the horizon.