Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Cotovatre’s house in high city was as beautiful in its own way as Vertiger.
The city house was two-storeys high, although the storeys were tall by low city standards, made of dark grey stone that was not a uniform, dull colour but rather veined with paler and darker shades, and also partially concealed by thick trails of plants growing up the walls.
From what Hallie could see of the gardens, they were crammed full of different plants, accessed by winding paths, and shaded by a few mature trees with wide, spreading branches, in contrast to the wide open expanse of perfectly smooth, velvet grass that she’d seen outside the investigators’ offices.
The different scents - sweet and fresh along with deep and dark - carried by the evening air invited her to take a walk and get lost among the plants and the trees.
However, she had not been asked here to wander through the gardens.
Instead, she turned back to the house. There were tall, wide windows on the ground floor which gave an excellent view of the soft candlelight inside, inviting guests into the warmth.
As soon as Hallie set foot inside the house she knew it was going to be a far different occasion than any she’d experienced so far in hochlen city residences.
The entryway was grand enough for any hochlen, with a marble floor and a great staircase made of dark, polished wood.
The staircase started off with one flight on either side of the entry hall, which turned inward to join at a landing halfway up before continuing as one set of stairs into the shadows above.
Despite the size, the space did not feel intimidating.
The air was scented with soft herbs and filled with gentle music from a quartet of musicians who had been stationed on the landing of the staircase.
Underneath the music was the murmur of voices and laughter from the rooms on either side of the entrance.
Cotovatre herself was in the entryway, with Emmet beside her, in his hochlen disguise.
Emmet was wearing a similar outfit to the night before, understated and elegant.
The lady was poised and regal in a midnight blue velvet gown that brushed the floor around her, pinpoints of light shining in its folds, echoing the diamond-bright string of stars in her hair and the single diamond that gleamed above the dipped neckline of the dress, suspended from a slender silver chain.
She fitted beautifully into her setting, and looked exactly as Hallie would have imagined a living legend among the hochlen to appear.
Knowing that she was here in large part because she was Cotovatre’s heir, and therefore her conduct and appearance would reflect back on the lady, Hallie was even more grateful for Alys’ earlier visit and assistance not only in bringing a suitable outfit for Hallie to wear but also helping her into it and styling her hair by pulling it back into a deceptively simple twist that left some strands falling in loose curls around her head and neck.
Hallie might not feel that she fit into this grand house, but she looked like she did.
The gown Alys had brought was long-sleeved and floor-length, in a much lighter shade of blue to Cotovatre’s, made from a soft, weighted fabric that flowed from a fitted bodice to slightly wider skirts.
Alys had also provided flat, soft shoes rather than heels, for which Hallie was extremely grateful.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had worn an actual dress and managing the extra fabric around her legs was proving tricky enough without the addition of heels.
Seeing Cotovatre now, Hallie guessed that either she or Alys, or possibly both, had decided that Hallie should tone with but not match the lady’s own dress.
The lady seemed particularly fond of blue shades, and they seemed to like her back.
The lady herself did not appear to care about her dignity or legendary status, giving a little sound of happiness and coming forward to give Hallie a warm hug.
“I am so glad you could come. And you, too, Girard,” Cotovatre said, putting a hand on each of their faces as she took a small step back. “Welcome, both of you.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Girard said, a touch of colour in his face. Hallie found it endearing that he seemed flustered by the lady’s warm welcome. Apart from the flush, Girard looked as if he belonged in this place with his dark, formal suit and shirt, his hair brushed and gleaming.
“This is a beautiful home,” Hallie said, earning another smile from Cotovatre.
“I am so glad you like it. Come, I can’t leave the door for long at the moment as more people are expected, but I want to make sure you meet a few people. Or, should I say, meet again.” Cotovatre linked her arm through Hallie’s and drew her towards one of the open doors.
There was a middle-aged man - a veondken like Alys, Hallie noted - standing just inside the doorway with a tray of drinks. Cotovatre paused, selecting a drink for Hallie and letting Girard choose for himself before the lady continued into the room.
Hallie suspected that the room might normally be a dining room, but for tonight the space had been cleared and there were a few groups of chairs at the corners, almost all occupied by people in close conversation.
The centre of the room and its thick, patterned rug had been left empty apart from a few tall stands with refreshments.
Hallie remembered similar stands of refreshments at the Abbott household and wondered if it was commonplace at evening gatherings like this.
Even though Cotovatre had said that more people were expected, the room seemed uncomfortably full to Hallie.
Despite the fine dress and Cotovatre’s presence, Hallie’s first impulse was to turn and leave.
The last time she’d been in a room with finely dressed hochlen she’d been insulted and then the host - Girard’s father - had arranged for her to be transported back to low city.
But Cotovatre had a hold of her and, after that first glance around, Hallie saw that she did in fact know some of the faces in the room.
She might not call them friends, but she was at least comfortable dealing with them.
The members of the group nearest the door were all familiar.
Lord Lamorat Lucas, Hoel Buchanan and Royns Webster.
The first two Hallie had last seen at Vertiger where they, along with their other fellow Conclave members, Ulfiam Vargas and the late Sagramour Webb, had been Cotovatre’s guests.
Ulfiam and Sagramour had been accompanied by their spouses.
Sagramour’s spouse, who had turned out to be his killer, was also dead.
In her glance around the room, Hallie had noted that Ulfiam was here as well and had, once again, brought his spouse, Padarn.
The beautiful young man was glowing in the candlelight, standing protectively close to his husband in a group farther into the room.
“Hallie, I know you’ve met Lamorat and Hoel before, but this is Royns Webster,” Cotovatre said, letting go of Hallie’s arm and dragging Hallie’s attention back to the people in front of her.
Lamorat and Hoel were almost exactly as Hallie remembered them, although far more formally dressed.
They were an odd contrast. Lamorat was a lean man of medium height, his mid-brown hair and beard close-cropped and liberally streaked with grey, his pale grey eyes as watchful as she remembered.
He’d struck her as almost frighteningly intelligent and not someone she’d want to cross if she could help it.
He had on a knee-length brocade jacket in a shade that Hallie could only describe as blue smoke, with darker trousers and a shirt the same colour as the jacket.
Hoel, on the other hand, was a giant of a man with a powerful build, broad shoulders filling the deep red jacket he was wearing over matching trousers and a vivid white shirt.
His white-blond hair gleamed in the candlelight, pale blue eyes almost colourless as he looked back at her.
As one of the youngest members of the Conclave, he didn’t have the same sense of age and gravitas that Lamorat did, but Hallie had seen enough at Vertiger to not underestimate him.
Her assessment of the two Conclave members was interrupted by Royns, dressed in a black evening jacket and trousers and a white shirt. The sort of outfit Hallie knew was high-class evening attire for men from various television shows.
“We have met,” Royns said, smiling with every appearance of delight at seeing Hallie.
She couldn’t help but smile back. Girard’s uncle - his mother’s younger brother - had been one of the good memories she had of the evening at his parents’ house.
He bore a strong family resemblance to Girard, but far more so to Girard’s mother, with reddish-toned, sandy hair, bright blue eyes and a quick, warm smile.
He came across as a genial, older man, but she’d learned that he was actually considered a business genius by other members of the elite, and although he was not the head of a house or a member of the Conclave, he seemed to draw at least as much respect as either of those positions.
“A remarkable young lady, this one. She gave me some excellent information. And now I learn that she is your heir, Cotovatre?”
“Indeed,” Cotovatre confirmed. Then she tilted her head. “Excellent information? Now, that doesn’t surprise me, but I am curious to know more?”
“Well, it seems a little impolite to be talking about my business, but it is your house, my lady, and I’m pleased to answer you.
We were having some difficulty in getting workers at the port, and Miss Talbot pointed out to me that there were a lot of potential workers in Erset with no means to get to the port. ”