Chapter Seven - Remy
The carriage ran into similar traffic outside, and again the day after that. It seemed like no matter what route they tried to divert onto, they found a crush of carriages to follow. Finally, Isabella had Aldric pull over to one side of the road. She marched over to a tree stump, still partially sodden with snowmelt, and spread a map out over it in an attempt to figure out the best path forward.
“We’re going to continue to make truly awful time if we’re following the same paths as everyone else,” she said. “We may need to go well off the beaten path.”
Remy leaned over her, setting a claw on her shoulder as he looked at the map, using his other hand to trace a main route. “We could go back north towards Lumin, then circle and head across the river here, towards Last Shade.”
“We’d add two tendays if we doubled back,” she said, and locked eyes with him for a moment too long before looking away. “We should go off the road and travel here, through the plains. We can cut straight across to Belliot instead of heading to Astinos. It will shave a day off our travel as well, which will allow us to catch up.”
Remy was hesitant to take his hand off her shoulder. There was something about the proximity to Isabella that settled in and made a home in his spirit. He was about to say something to that effect when Izzy sighed and started to roll up the map.
“I’m sure you’d be thrilled to spend less time with me as well, anyhow.”
Remy rankled, feeling his spines flatten. “Your ironclad memory does you no favors, princess.”
“Oh, I beg to differ. It’s served me well in my time as Caller.”
“I enjoy spending time with you, believe it or not,” Remy replied.
Isabella’s eyes flickered back to his, surprise etched over her features.
He felt a sudden flush of embarrassment and turned quickly to do anything else. “Aldric! Do you mind?”
Aldric hopped down from the coachbox and looked at the map, tracing the path and doing a quick measurement. “I don’t think we’re in a particularly hilly area. The going will be a little bumpier, but it should be nothing Tawny and Murrey can’t handle.”
“Great. We should be off then,” Remy said, and then turned to Isabella, who was still gaping at him in surprise. He couldn’t decide if it was tiresome or pleasing. “Princess, you’re staring.”
“I may be in shock.”
Remy opened the door to the carriage. “Then recuperate inside.”
Their new path allowed them time to look out on the countryside, and while there were occasionally small cart paths to lead the horses down, there were other times where they were moving through obvious farmland that had been left to rest in between crop harvests.
The trouble came, of course, when they happened upon a small creek that had diverted off the main river. The bridge over the creek was a bit too narrow to cross with two large draft horses like Tawny and Murrey.
Isabella pointed to a shallower part of the creek slightly further north. “There, we should be fine to simply ford the river.”
At first, it seemed like a prudent idea. But as soon as the horses hit the water, something went wrong. Remy felt the entire carriage lurch forward, heard the chuff of a nervous horse, and then an ear-splitting crack.
“I fear this shortcut of ours is going to take considerably longer now,” Remy said, and opened up the door to step out of the carriage.
He sunk into the soft earth and water, and made a brief assessment.
One of the horses, Tawny, had apparently made a break for it. Aldric was also gone, probably chasing after said horse.
Murrey was on the other side of the creek, tugging at an errant reed.
The carriage was mostly intact.
The pole and traces to hook the horses to the carriage were… with the missing horse. The carriage must have come apart completely.
Somewhere behind his eyes, a headache was forming.
“Isabella! You may as well come enjoy the fresh air. Or, better yet, think of a way to tie down this other horse to keep it from wandering off.”
Isabella stepped down delicately, moving towards Murrey. Of course this would happen just as they were making good time.
“And where is Aldric?
“Oh, I’m sure that he’s going after the other horse. But this is the larger concern,” Remy said, gesturing to the carriage. “I’m not sure what happened. We’ll have to get underneath it to find out.”
“What could have possibly happened to detach the horses?” Isabella said, traipsing into the creek without a second thought.
“They probably hit a hole under the water. Then the horses spooked and took their fittings away with them.” Remy said. “But that is the nature of overland travel, yes?”
The next few hours were spent in a chaotic blur. As Aldric finally returned with Tawny, Remy bent down to look at the state of the carriage.
“It’ll have to come out of the water before we’re able to do anything at all with it,” Remy said.
Aldric nodded, handing the reins off to Izzy to lean down. “They broke off from the carriage itself. It’s not an easy fix.”
Isabella groaned. “Of course. Well, I suppose I can go into the closest town, see if we can grab a few men to help us with it.”
“No need.” Remy said, unbuttoning his tunic and setting it inside the cart. “Aldric, if you’ll just guide from the front, I can handle the rest.”
“Of course, Vicomte.”
Remy moved back into the shallow flat part of the creek, As Aldric suspected, the carriage had suffered quite the break. Wonderful. It would take a good wainwright at least as much time to fix it as they had saved with their shortcut. He pushed hard, feeling the carriage come without much protest at all, and started to step carefully, placing his feet on the stone so as not to sink into the silt at the bottom of the creek.
With a final heave, he pushed up off the incline and onto sturdier soil. Now that he was out of the water, he felt the cling of his shirt over his shoulders. How irritating. It would probably take hours to dry, and he certainly didn’t want to have the shirt chafe against his scales, so he slipped it off and moved to wring the water out of it. He turned to see Isabella on the bridge, gaping at him.
“What? What is it?”
“Chaperone!” Isabella squeaked in an octave that Remy hadnt heard her use before.
Remy stared for a moment, seeing the bright red of her face and features. “What?”
She looked mortified, her eyes widening.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you. What did you say?”
She laughed nervously, looking down and murmuring something under her breath.
“Isabella, you’ve never been one to mince words. Please don’t start now.”
“She said she needed a chaperone, sir.” Aldric replied.
Remy looked between the two humans, confused. “A what?”
“A chaperone, she re-emphasized, looking at Aldric. “It means—”
“I know what it means. I just don’t understand your context. Isn’t that for children on outings?”
“No, it’s different in our kind, sir,” Aldric said. “It means she’s got, ah…” Aldric trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. Isabella seemed in no rush to assist, which was strange for her.
Remy racked his brain, thinking back to all the etiquette that Isabella had taught him. He’d read it a few times in courtly books but… normally it was in relation to a romantic pair. Realization hit all at once as he turned back to the princess, seeing the flush in her cheeks, the way her eyes darted furtively from his chest back to his face.
“You need one here? Why?”
“It’s important. Aldric, I’ll ride the horse with you.”
“Of course, Princess,” Aldric said, straightening.
“I mean, yes, of course, you were always going to ride with Aldric. I dont want to overexert the horses. But I don’t understand. You didn’t need a chaperone before. What has changed?”
Remy knew of Isabella’s distaste for scenting, but he couldnt help himself. He took in a sweeter scent, heady and soft. Desire. It was unmistakable. Remy sat with the feeling for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time that scent was aimed at him.
The more surprising part was, he didn’t mind at all.
Remy wasn’t humble, by any means. He knew he was handsome, with a good build and a sharp mind. It wasn’t the first time someone had stated their intentions towards him. But typically, when he made an assessment of his own person, he found himself wanting. He would deny their advances and let them down gently. But this time, rejection seemed like the most ludicrous idea in the world.
He laughed, suddenly giddy. “Are you feeling quite well, Isabella?”
Isabella lifted her chin, defiant. “Yes, and nothing has changed. I just need a chaperone.”
“Did we cross some border? Is this tiny decrepit bridge some land barrier I didnt know about?” Remy teased.
She colored again, and he scented it again, rich and heady, intoxicating. Gods be good, she was actually blushing over him after all this time. He hoped she would be like this all the time with him. “No. It’s just that propriety is propriety and all.”
Remy laughed again. “Propriety? Isabella, we shared a bed already.”
Isabella walked towards the carriage, still beet red as she opened up her trunk and withdrew a night’s worth of clothing and her unmentionables, stuffing them into a small canvas sack, along with her journal, her codebook, and a small jewelry case that held her more valuable pieces.
Remy procured a similar collection to bundle to his back. “Isabella.”
Aldric stepped up, clearing his throat a bit. Remy looked down at him and Aldric paled considerably. Remy rolled his eyes, carefully sidestepping Isabella but still staying a comfortable distance away.
“Seriously, we aren’t going to talk about this?”
“It’s the rules,” she muttered, and with a slight huff turned away from him. “The etiquette of court. If you have inclinations—”
“Inclinations?”
“—of a more amorous nature, then you are to have an unbiased adult with you at all times to ensure that there are no boundaries being crossed.”
“This is insanity,” Remy laughed. “So now you have inclinations towards me, and Aldric has the unfortunate obligation to be your bodyguard? Do you think I’m going to ravish you or something? This is absurd.”
“Absurd, perhaps. But that is the way it must be for the foreseeable future, until theseinclinations have passed.”
“You mean these romantic inclinations?” Remy pressed.
Isabella threw her hands up, exasperated. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. When these romantic inclinations have passed, then we will be able to return to however we were prior to when I was having these inclinations, which will be much preferable to now.”
“You are rambling. This is adorable,” Remy said. “Is it so hard to just say that you like me?”
“Oh, hardly,” Isabella said, tone clipped. “I really do just think that it would be best for everyone. It’s cleaner, neater, safer that way.”
Remy felt a flicker of annoyance; his mouth ran off without any consideration for his brain. “Rather, you cant keep your hands or your eyes off of me and now you need a barrier. Fine.”
“I’m sorry, Vicomte. We dont mean to bother, this is just the way it is,” Aldric said as Isabella stormed off towards her horse.
“Oh, it really is no bother to me. This is what you want. I won’t pretend to understand what’s happening, but I will give you no trouble.”
Honestly, he could not remember the last time someone had desired him, not truly. There had been plenty of courtiers, men and women, who had thrown themselves at him at dances after a bit of alcohol. But this was the first time that he’d really seen anyone get flustered over him. It was definitely interesting to consider. “No bother to me at all,” he repeated.
He waited for Isabella and Aldric to climb upon Tawny and moved to the Murrey, which was the sturdier of the two. The horse looked no happier about it than Remy did. “I’m sorry to have to ride you unsaddled, but it is what it is.”
Murrey whickered and snorted. Remy apologized and mounted him anyway. He rode in front of Isabella (“lest my blood be stirred by the thought of you,” he’d muttered) and set off towards the farmhouses to the east. As he rode, he again returned to the ridiculousness of this entire situation.
Isabella had not shared a single thought about Remy during their ride. She was quick to offer both praise and criticism. Perhaps that was why he was so tickled. But the longer he rode, the more he realized that he wasn’t just amused. He was pleased, pleased that she saw him as an object of attraction, of desire. That thought kept him distracted for the rest of the ride through the farmland.
The trio of riders finally approached the main farmhouse just as the sun was beginning to set.
“I think the two of you should go. I don’t know how many farmers on this side of the continent have seen someone like me,” Remy said.
Isabella carefully dismounted, with Aldric not far behind. “I will speak with the farmer, see if we can get lodging somewhere for the evening.”
“I’ll stay here. Enjoy your time with your chaperone,” Remy said, entirely pleased with himself.
Isabella just huffed again as she started to make her way towards the farmhouse.
She stomped back a few minutes later, even more red than before.
“Oh, this must have gone well,” Remy said, looking her over, and then the barn.
“The farmer, a Mr. Ezra Simpkins, has stated that the only space available is the barn. He recently had twins so… the house is a bit full. Also, Mr. Simpkins stated that he would send word to the carpenter to make sure that we get sorted tomorrow.”
“Oh, congratulations to Mr. Simpkins. Shall I remain here under starlight so there is a door between us?”
“No—I—no,” Isabella said, rolling her eyes. “There will be enough space in the barn. I’m sure there could be some form of separation.”
“Oh, wonderful. Thank you for your charity. I promise I’ll keep my barbarous hands off you.”
Isabella’s eyes darted to his hands for a moment, licking her lips before turning away from him. “See that you do.”
~*~
The barn was at least weatherproof. They had been able to back their horses into two of the open stalls within the barn. Aldric had taken the time to brush and clean down the horses, still keeping a careful eye on Remy as he did it. The good Mr. Simpkins had been kind enough to provide them with a simple workman’s dinner; a platter of herb tarts with freshly churned butter, lentils and salt-crusted pork, and a small chafing dish filled with rice.
Remy, Isabella, and Aldric ate in the barn, not wanting to intrude on the parents and their new children. Isabella sat on the other side of the table from Remy. Remy already missed how companionably close they’d been over the past few weeks. He found himself distracted watching the way her fingers, delicate and careful, moved across the page as she worked on a particular passage with him. At one point during the lesson, he leaned in to point at something on the page and she carefully pushed him away, recovering the distance between them.
By the time they had finished with their passages, Aldric had sat down nearby in a bale of hay and fallen asleep without either of them noticing.
“It really is incredible. I don’t think he lasted fifteen minutes.” Remy said. “Not particularly well-versed in the concept of chaperoning, I take it.”
“It seems not, no,” Isabella said, clasping her hands in front of her.
“So shall I wake him up so he can continue at his station? He can watch over me with bated breath, prepared for his moment should I attempt to have any tempting thoughts.”
“It’s for me, not for you, Remy,” she finally said, unable to meet his eyes. “I dont think you’re going to ravish me or whatever you had implied earlier. I just want to be sure I dont do something I regret.”
Remy stopped and looked at her as she closed her book, primly wrapping the strings back around it to keep it closed. “Something you would regret? Would fancying me be that despicable?”
“I’m sure you have your opinions on that, Vicomte.”
Remy sighed. “Do you want me to sleep outside? Seriously. It will be dreadful, but it’s nothing I havent experienced before.”
“No. There’s no point. It will be fine. I can control myself.”
“I never doubted that you could,” Remy said gently, and then moved a bit closer.
He didnt touch her, but he wanted to. In his mind’s eye he could make out the feel of her skin under his claws, could imagine the little huffs and sighs she would make as he carefully caressed her.
“Look, there’s a loft area, up there, where you can sleep. I wont be able to see you, and Nyman knows you’ll hear me coming if I try to test my luck with the ladder. That way you can keep to your propriety and we can both try and get a sound night’s sleep.”
She nodded, heading up the stairs with her satchel. Remy cleaned off the table to write his letters home. When he heard that she had gotten entirely settled, he started to find somewhere to nest for the night, gathering a collection of blankets to make the area a bit more pleasant.
“I dont know about you,” he said, raising his voice somewhat to be heard. “But I cannot wait to sleep in a bed my size again.”
After a few moments, Isabella responded, sounding somewhat detached. “The feeling is mutual.”
Remy nested down, glad that the scales on his back and limbs were hardened enough to not feel the scratchiness of the hay. “So I’m sure you’re excited to be home and rid of me,” he said.
“I mean, I know how loathsome I am to be around,” Isabella replied, mimicking his tone.
Remy winced as he rested his head back on his outstretched arms. “Still cross with me about that, mm? Even with your inclinations?”
“You were rude,” Isabella said flatly, and he could hear her turn on her own makeshift bed.
“I was rude.” Remy admitted. “I was irritated and I took it out on you. A mistake on my part, and one that I wont repeat. Are you still deciding whether or not to accept my apology?”
“Perhaps.”
“Would you like me to grovel a bit further?”
“Yes, absolutely,” Isabella said, and a bit of the lightness had returned to her voice.
Remy smiled, pleased. “Please forgive a cantankerous dragon his grumpiness. I spoke out of turn, and I had no business calling you condescending. I know it’s not the case. I simply felt challenged by you. I thought that you were quite spectacular, and your acumen for all of this is astounding. Perhaps it has been some time since I felt like I found someone my equal. Perhaps I wasnt certain what that meant, until I started talking with you more rationally. I think I’ve come to know you a little better now. Do you concur?”
“Yes, I think so,” Isabella said, and peeked her head over the edge of the loft to look down at him. Her hair was still covered, but she looked more relaxed.
Remy looked up into her eyes, and grinned, scenting the air again. There was a softer scent in there now. Fondness perhaps. He was pleased by that, too.
“Is that enough to accept my apology?”
“That you were rude to me because I was too smart? That still seems childish.”
“It is a bit childish. I suppose I’m not old enough to be cantankerous.”
“Quite.”
“Fine. Forgive a dragon for his mistakes then. Let me show you that I can do better.”
“I forgive you, Vicomte,” she said, and smiled, setting her chin in her hand and resting it against the side. “But if you talk to me like that again, I shall be quite cross.”
“You are a fearsome thing to behold when you’re cross,” Remy chuckled. “I remember. You’d never know there was a foot of height difference between us that evening at the gala. I thought you would be the one to breathe lightning at me.”
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Never, Princess. Never at you.”
Isabella seemed appeased with that. “Then I suppose I can be a forgiving sort.”
“I’m glad. I do have some questions for you, while we are here with nothing better to do until morning.”
“Of course. Whatever you want to know.”
“What is this chaperone thing all about? You seem well over the age of maturity for a human. You’re a strong, confident woman. As I already said, a fearsome thing to behold. So why are you requiring this young footman to guard your honor?”
“It’s just part of the code of conduct for courtiers. There is a way things are done, in courtship. When you are... with someone.”
“Are we courting now?” Remy chuckled.
Isabella, still lying on the edge of the loft blanched and turned. “Well, no, not yet. Not formally. Or informally.”
“Ah, so we’re back to inclinations.”
“Yes. If these inclinations were to evolve further, then there would be the courtship rites. The Aurelian empire is multi-denominational—we recognize all faiths. It’s more political. There has to be an accounting of each side’s family tree, to ensure there is no direct conflict to worry about. Once that business has been sorted, then comes the, ah, romancing period, the Twining. It comes from an old bard’s tale, about how two hearts twine as one, the strings of fate wrapping each other closer until they cannot be separated.”
“That’s pretty,” Remy said. “It’d be prettier in Draconic. Draconic was made for poetry. So during this Twining you can be without a chaperone? Or is that still forbidden?”
“No, you still need one. This is when there are dates, you provide gifts, there is dancing and letters and it’s all quite soft and sweet. There’s a gift of metal, a gift of stone, a gift of heart, a gift of mind.”
“Metaphorical, I would assume, on those last two?”
“Yes, no goat’s hearts. Although very old archival works did state that might have happened once or twice,” Isabella said, her tone thoughtful.
“And after the Twining?”
“Well, then comes the formalized courtship process. Meeting with the families, sharing a meal with each other, breaking bread that the other prepared. It’s when we stop using chaperones, as we’ve built a bond of trust with each other. Then there’s the official entrance into court as a pair. And then there’s another year of trust building until there’s a proposal from one of the parties. Then you plan your wedding, your joining.”
“This seems, if you’ll pardon my tone, like such a long process,” Remy said, running a hand over his head.
“It’s exactly as long as it needs to be.”
“How does your race survive? It takes three years just to make it to joining? How long do you live again? I thought it was only a century?”
“Typically less,” Isabella said. “But joining is important! It’s your partner, the person you spend the rest of your life with. It’s important!”
Remy paused, and looked up at her. “Oh, that makes sense. You all only have one partner at a time. I can see why you’d be so much more exhaustive about it.”
“Yes—you all, you just connect with anyone and everyone. We aren’t as adventurous, I suppose.”
Remy rolled his eyes. “It’s not that difficult, Princess. Here, I’ll break it down. My mentor and our primary, Lysander. He fell in love with his consort, Collette. They found each other and fell in love, and joined with each other, had their first few children together. Truly a love story for the ages.”
“That is very sweet.”
“And then, Lysander met Philippe. And Angelo. And Priscilla.”
Isabella moved to peek from over the rafters. “What?”
“Yes, and then Collette also met Philippe, and Priscilla. She didnt care much for Angelo. Anyhow. Once you start laying eggs, and remember that your scale color may not match the parents, well… It’s kind of difficult to untangle who belongs to who. So everyone simply belongs to each other.”
“That seems... I mean... How do you... how do you all know it will work?”
“Sometimes it does, and sometimes it doesn’t. The first consort, whoever they are, is typically responsible for managing the cluster. And when a new consort joins, there’s a joining period, where they get to have the priority of time with the main member of the cluster. I think all of you do yourselves a disservice. I think it’s hard to know whether you’ve found your perfect person. Some clusters are smaller than others, but maybe we’re allowed to be a bit more cavalier with our hearts because of it.”
Isabella watched him, lost in thought. “I suppose I still have a lot to learn.”
“Luckily I’m an excellent teacher,” Remy said, locking eyes with her. He watched her face soften, and her small, brilliant smile brightened the whole room. He would give anything to make her smile like that over and over again. “Good night, Princess.”
She smiled and crept back over to her little makeshift nest. Goodnight, Vicomte.”