Chapter Nine – Remy
The road between Castiglione and Vinitore had been a much smoother ride. The castle of Castiglione had been mostly empty, as Isabella’s relatives had been traveling to visit some of their bannermen dotted across the rolling hills. As a result, Aldric and Remy had spent the night on the ground floor, while Izzy had had the whole second floor to herself.
This was for the best; the little inn that they’d shared off the river had given him an unexpected delight. Perhaps half an hour after they’d both retired for the evening, Remy had heard soft moans coming from the other side of the very thin walls. Then, a few minutes later, he scented the most intoxicating smell from Izzy’s room. It was something he’d never smelled. Desire crystallized in a perfect moment. It smelled heady and sweet and… wet. Dragonkin women didn’t get wet, not until they were fully in the depths of their heat, and even then it was all contained within—it definitely did not spill out where anyone could scent.
He’d found himself going back to it every few days, as he and Isabella had taken turns riding next to Aldric to continue keeping their distance. So when he heard his name shouted, it jolted him out of a very pleasant line of thinking.
“Vicomte!”
Remy started, hearing the urgent sound of Isabella’s voice. “Is everything alright?”
“We’re finally in view of Vinitore! Make sure to look out of the windows. You have to see everything.”
The city was set around Vetro Di Mare, a glimmering white castle upon a hill. Surrounding the city were limestone walls, with naval barracks among the outside perimeter. As the carriage rolled up the last foothills, it was as if nature herself drew back the curtain, showing the brilliant sapphire ocean as far as Remy could see. The sun sparkled against the crystal blue water and lit upon the sails of the multitude of ships in the harbor, some of them commercial and others clearly used for warfare and combat. Each warship was docked and a bustle of activity. Even from here, Remy could see the cannons being cleaned and maintained by bronzed, bare-chested soldiers.
Remy leaned out to be heard through the window. “So this is the might of the Aurelian Empire?”
“The might of Branch Echtarch, mostly.” Izzy called back. “Branch Echtarch and Branch Montaze have most of the naval power. We’ve had to skirmish once or twice with the Tideland Kings of Dent. They occasionally try to threaten our northeastern territories. But they are little match for our might,” she said, a clear note of pride in her tone. “Oh, I have so many places to take you to.”
“Can you stop the carriage?”
“Whatever for?”
“I’d like to see it more for myself, with my own eyes,” he said.
Aldric slowed the carriage and Remy walked alongside, keeping a brisk pace as he looked around.
“I do have so much to show you,” Izzy said, clasping her hands together. “Especially the gardens, you’ll love them!”
As they’d moved across the continent, Isabella had begun to dress for the weather. The bundled layers and sweaters and coats had been packed away, replaced with much lighter fare, made of linens and cottons. While she still kept the bodices and corsets traditional to human women, they were much lighter, and she wore the laces less tightly.
Remy was sure he’d seen everything that she could have packed; there were only so many clothes that could fit in a trunk. And yet here she was, wearing something that hed never seen before. Or perhaps, she had been wearing it underneath all of those other clothes.
This gave Remy pause.
After a while, Remy started to not see the clothes anymore and just saw her. Isabella was built in a way that he wasnt expecting. She was softer and curvier than hed expected originally. Perhaps he expected the curves that she had to have only been built from fabric and boning and bustles. But it was clear, both from seeing her in less layers, and from the night they had spent in the same bed, that the curves were all hers.
Isabella looked back to him and frowned. “Youre not looking.”
“I am taking in the sights, Princess, trust me,” he said, clearing his throat and looking out to the castle. All along the cliffside, Remy could see a wide array of flowers. He was not the best botanist by far, and couldn’t name all of them, but he saw beautiful blooms of every color in one area; another area was filled with wildflowers, and another area was filled with delicate white blossoms of every flower he could imagine or name, and quite a few that he couldnt.
“So do you and your family often take care of this for leisure?”
“Oh, sometimes. But we do have gardeners,” Isabella replied, plopping down on her bench, grinning widely. She looked girlish in a way that she hadnt this entire trip.
Remy enjoyed seeing the excitement on her face and how she brightened as soon as they crested over that last hill to Vinitore. “I suppose you are right,” he said, looking over the hill before drawing his attention to her.“It is quite pretty here.”
“I know it is. I grew up here.” Isabellas eyes dragged back to Remy’s and she gave a simple shrug. “I think that a lot of people underestimate Vinitore, out of all of the seats in Branch Echtarch. People know we are the imperial seat, but everyone still thinks of us as a sleepy fishing town, or just a town where soldiers go to make port.”
“And are they right?” Remy asked.
“No, of course not, Isabella said.“I think that this is one of the most beautiful places in Ilcanos. And I cant wait to show it to you. I cant wait for you to meet the Laurentine Triumvirate either.”
Remy missed a step, and then jogged to catch up, eyes wide. “What? What is that? I don’t remember studying anything about the Laurentine Triumvirate.”
At that, Isabella burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh, we’ve already talked about them at length,” she said. “Those are my brothers; Laurentino is the Emperor, then Carmine and Tristan. and I already talked to you about the other two.”
Remy rolled his eyes. “You live to vex me at times. Why do you refer to them as a triumvirate, then?”
Isabella laughed again, unable to contain her excitement. “Oh, youll see why when you meet them,” she said. “They always tend to—well, youll see for yourself soon enough.”
Remy re-entered the carriage as they entered the main street leading up to the castle. As they rumbled down the cobbles, the town seemed to come alive around their carriage. At first it was just a few children running after them in the street. Then, he noticed a few soldiers in sharp blue suits peeling off and heading up the hill to Vetro di Mare on horseback. Then, he heard the ringing of distant bells, beckoning them home.
By the time they reached the front gates of Vetro di Mare, there was an entire retinue of people waiting in the courtyard to meet them, including four people standing a bit further in front than the others.
Before the carriage finished rumbling to a stop, Isabella was already up and out of her coachbox, hopping down into the courtyard below. She jumped into the arms of one of the three men standing in the courtyard. Remy exited the carriage and heard the first exclamations of excitement and joy as Isabella reunited with her family. He elected to stay back, helping Aldric down and starting to guide the carriage towards the stable, directing two footmen to deliver the trunks inside to wherever he and Isabella would be resting for the evening. After a moment, Remy heard Isabella calling his name as she pulled away from the arms of one of her brothers.
“Oh, Remy, I have to introduce you properly,” Isabella said and beckoned him over to them.
“Remy, this is my brother, Emperor Laurentino, and this is Prince Carmine and Prince Tristan.”
Ah, the Laurentine Triumvirate. Their familial resemblance was so clear it was as if they’d been duplicated by magic. Each of them was tanned, with square jaws and bright shining teeth. Their hair was perfectly coiffed, dark brown with golden undertones. Only the youngest of the three, Tristan, seem to have a hint of the same auburn red hair as Isabella did.
Isabella then pulled over a younger woman who looked like a slightly younger version of her. “And this is my youngest sister, Princess Patricia.”
Remy gave a deep bow in the manner that Isabella had shown him weeks before. “Your Eminence, established and honored members of Branch Echtarch, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Princess Isabella has told me so much about all of you. Thank you for welcoming me into your home, with your gracious support of my branch, my family, into the Aurelian Empire.”
As he rose back to his full height, Isabella looked at him with soft eyes and a fond smile. He treasured it every time. Then she looked back to her family, beckoning them to finish the other half of the greeting.
Laurentino stepped forward with a friendly smile. “As emperor of the Aurelian Empire, and as primary of Branch Echtarch, I welcome you into my home, and bid you safe shelter under my watch. As you are now a member of our family, I give you my word that you will always be welcome here, or at any of the castles that have been enshrined among our empire.”
Patricia started next, before Tristan or Carmine could introduce themselves. Remy assumed this was a breach of protocol, based on Izzy’s admonishing glance, but Patricia’s exuberance was too infectious to ignore.
“Vicomte Remy, it’s an honor to meet you. We’ve gotten several letters home and, well, Isabella has spoken briefly about your prowess in learning our ways. We’ve prepared several feasts now that you’re here. You will also be meeting some of the other members of our family in the days and weeks to come. I’m sure that you are tired from your long journey,” she said.
“Yes, we’d like to offer you rooms within the main manor house. We surely hope the staging of it all will be to your liking, Vicomte,” Prince Carmine said.
Remy nodded, settling, his claws behind his back as the servants around began to bustle into life, taking all of the belongings from the carriage and disconnecting the horses from the larger cart, moving everything back to the stables. He looked at Isabella, who smiled.
“Get settled in your rooms,” she said, “and you’re free to move about after that. We’ll all meet for dinner in the plum dining hall later this evening.”
Just like that, Isabella grabbed her skirts and moved inside with her sister Patricia, disappearing down into another area of the house.
Remy blanched, spines flattening, as Laurentino beckoned him forward. “I asked my sister to give us a bit of a chance to get to know each other first, since you’ll be working as the official translator for Lysander the Fearsome until his grasp of the language is stronger. I wanted to get to know the man a bit better before he arrives for summer court in a few months. I hope you won’t find me too off-putting, compared to my sister.”
“Oh, no, not at all. I merely assumed she would be the one providing the tour.”
“I’m sure she will provide a completely separate experience. She has a talent for finding all of the places in the house to best get lost in. She’s been impeccable at that ever since we were children,” Laurentino chuckled.
The next few hours passed in a blur for Remy. Vinitore was opulent in a different way than home. Most of this beauty was in its ornate decorations: the gilded paintings, the pearls and marble, the abalone shell armor, of the crownsguard gleaming in the sun. It all seemed so performative. It didn’t remind him of Isabella, whose wealth you could see in her outfits but only because of the material, rather than the ostentatious nature of them.
Laurentino took special care to show him to where his quarters would be. The rooms felt too big. While he had a wonderful view of the seaside, the room felt cavernous compared to the tiny, cramped inns and small taverns they’d been in all month.
Finally, he followed Laurentino to the Boar Room, where they both sat and talked about their experiences across the continent and drank wine that was so sweet and rich that he was drowsy and warm by only the fifteenth bell.
He begged off around an hour later, and wandered back to his rooms, reveling in the feel of the carpet beneath his claws. He sat down on the four-poster bed, and looked about for the wardrobe, seeing that all of his clothes had been inspected. A few were missing; he assumed they’d been taken to be laundered. No matter. He had a separate wardrobe for his work here. He was certainly not going to be shown up by these humans. He needed to get dressed, make himself presentable, and then hopefully, get to see Izzy drinking the wine of her homeland for the first time.
A few hours later, Remy heard a knock on the door as a servant called him for dinner. He followed them, wearing a stately green number that Amaury had forced him to bring. He did have to admit, it did bring out his scales well. Satisfied, he followed the servant down to the main floor, where he heard the soft sounds of violin music as he entered.
Within, the whole of the Echtarch clan he’d met earlier was assembled. And sure enough, the Laurentine Triumvirate were all seated at one side of the table, arguing about something or another as he entered and was announced.
On the other side of the room, Isabella was talking with Patricia. Both of them were dressed in soft dresses in pastel colors; Isabella was in a pretty pink dress that made her look so delicate, like she was floating in a cloud. The only real structure of the dress was around the bodice and shoulders. But there were so many skirts and ruffles that he thought she might float away. Instead of her hair being back in one of her austere caps, her hair was braided into intricate patterns and pinned with a number of pearl pins. She looked every bit the princess. She looked ethereal. Remy was fixed in place in an instant, unable to look away.
She brightened considerably as she noticed Remy, eyes flitting about his form. Then she stood with a suddenness that spooked him.
“Is something wrong, Princess?” Remy asked, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
“No, nothing is wrong—just hoping that you would sit next to me, Vicomte.”
“I’d like nothing better, Princess,” he murmured, and sat next to her at the table, comfortably in the middle between her and her sister and the Laurentine Triumvirate, who only now began to notice his presence.
“Ah, Remy, perhaps you can help us straighten this out,” Carmine asked.
Tristan scoffed, his tone and posture similar to Izzy’s when she did the same. “Or he’ll make things worse and add yet another perspective that we all can disagree on.”
“Either way, it will stir things up,” Laurentino said, and smiled, settling his hands out in front of him. “Perhaps it’s different in Onson. Remy, how do you feel about hunting?”
“Oh, I always enjoy a good hunt, personally. There are varied wildlife that live in our mountains. I think in particular, we hunt birds, including Rocs, giant beasts with a wingspan the size of this room. Part of it is pest control. They’d fly off with all our pigs, chickens, and goats if we gave them the opportunity. Perhaps some of the smaller hatchlings as well.”
“Well, what about boar?” Carmine asked first. “Surely that’s good hunting.”
“I can see why you might like it. The area around here—the forests at least, since we’ve left Carillon—seems nice and wide and flat, good hunting area for boar. Our hunting grounds have much rockier terrain. You’re more likely to lose a claw than you are to gain a slab of meat fit for a feast.”
“Oh, it’s not so different here,” Carmine said simply. “You have to get special spears with cross beams on them in order to stop the boar from goring you even in its last breaths.”
“That sounds positively ghastly,” Patricia said, looking a little green. “Must we talk about this right before we’re about to eat?”
“Yes we absolutely must, before the food comes out. Well, this throws everything else into stiff deliberation, doesn’t it?” Carmine said after a moment. “You say pheasant or quail or other hunted birds, I say boar, and Tristan here has said deer, stags.”
“Deer and stags? Easy prey,” Remy replied, sipping at his wine, and then looking subtly over to Isabella.
She took a long sip of her wine and closed her eyes, as if committing the taste of it to memory. Remy did the same, with the way she savored it.
“Well, I suppose we will have a grand hunt indeed,” Remy added. “So, Isabella talked for a long time about the kitchens here. I’m very interested to see the very best of what Vinitore has to offer.”
“Well, she’s right to talk well about us,” Carmine said. “We wanted you to experience everything. But Vinitore is known for its aquaculture. So we’ll start with seafood tonight,” he said, clapping his hands. Servants poured out to set several platters down.
Over the course of the evening, Remy found that there were quite a few things he enjoyed. Oysters were decadent. He enjoyed the salty nature of them, but learned that they could be sweet too, and were savored best with horseradish and spicy sauces. He also enjoyed the lobster and crabs that were pulled out and trussed for his benefit. While the humans required special tools, he was able to make quick work of them with his claws, savoring the delicious white meat inside. It really just needed perhaps a drizzle of butter to make it melt in his mouth.
By the time they had finished and moved onto wine and dessert—a decadent dark chocolate pastry with another layer of bitter dark chocolate over it with coffee sprinkled atop it—he was sure that while they had better desserts at home, Vinitore was certainly to be respected with their fare.
And, for most of the evening, he watched Isabella.
Isabella, who carefully covered her mouth when she chewed, her eyes taking in her sister as she spoke or giggling brightly at one of her brother’s jokes.
Isabella who was steadfast in her beliefs about having common folk provide their own expertise, now that Remy had brought up the idea to her.
Isabella who doted on her sister and, as much as she teased her brothers, clearly shared love for all of them. It reminded Remy of his own cluster, and it linked them together in a way he hadn’t expected before.
As dinner ended, the staff swept away the plates. The group chatted as they walked to a nearby parlor room, where a small string ensemble had set up to offer entertainment. Remy quickly moved to join Isabella as each of them settled into their positions for the night.
Izzy, glass in hand, looked up, her eyes sparkling. She looked soft and warm, in her element. It was a completely different side of her, and one he hoped to see more of.
“Are you enjoying the evening so far, Vicomte?”
“I think so. I do have to be honest with you, Princess.”
“Oh, please share.”
“Well, I was suddenly, regrettably missing your presence. I didn’t think I would have been able to say that a few short weeks ago, but I suppose. My afternoon was so quiet. There was no one to fill the time with spirited conversation.” he said, and then gave her a wry grin. “Which meant I was able to get many letters done, instead of dribbling them out in ones and twos over the course of several hours of arguing with you about how tall a lectern is.”
“It depends on the person, as we’ve discussed numerous times,” Isabella huffed.
“Regardless, perhaps your family wouldn’t mind if you showed me the gardens?”
“Alone?” Isabella asked.
Remy shook his head, giving a wry grin. “Of course not. You are free to bring whomever you’d like.”
Patricia gave Remy a warm smile. “I would be honored to chaperone.” She nudged her sister, pulling her close to whisper in her ear. Whatever she said, it made Isabella go beet red. Remy determined that Patricia was now his second favorite person within the castle walls of Vetro di Mare.
“Thank you, Princess Patricia,” Remy said, and took a step to walk by Isabella’s side. “I will be on my best behavior. My claws will be behind my back the whole time.”
Isabella carefully walked with him, waving to her brothers before heading out into the courtyard with Remy. She led him through a portcullis and into a garden, where he could see the last rays of the warm golden light touch down over the ocean.
It warmed the bright water lilies that floated across the ponds of the water garden. Isabella walked in step with Remy, who was perfectly content to slow his steps to point out a particular blossom. Over the course of the evening, they found themselves at a small gazebo towards the back of the garden, and a swing that had been installed there.
Remy slowed to watch her run up to it and sit down on the swing, swinging back and forth as Patricia carefully sat down nearby, pulling a slim book out of the folds of her dress and opening it up to the middle.
“It truly is beautiful here. I can see why you love Vinitore so much,” he said. “I prefer Vinitore to Yaventown. While the hustle and bustle can be interesting in small doses, Vinitore restores me, body and soul. There is no place I would rather be.”
Remy watched a dragonfly settle on one of the wide, flat pink flowers nearby, resting its wings on the petals. “It is difficult to imagine it until you travel halfway across a continent. You’re saying none of the places we investigated during our travels together could hold a candle to Vinitore?”
“Perhaps I require additional visits to truly make up my mind,” Isabella replied.
“Well, I think I would enjoy exploring the best of what the continent has to offer with you. It may expand your horizons ever further.”
“Are you calling me uncultured?” Isabella scoffed, swinging higher.
“Never,” Remy chuckled. “I only meant that—”
“What did you actually mean? You always do this thing where you grumble and say that I’ve misunderstood you,” Isabella said.
Remy looked her over. It was clear that she was teasing him, but if there was actual offense taken he’d want to know. “Sometimes I feel like we talk in circles around each other; perhaps it’s because our initial introduction wasn’t the best. But I thought I had made myself more clear with my intentions. Am I still failing in that regard?”
Isabella stopped swinging for a moment, turning to face him, a small crooked, mischievous smile on her face. “No. I certainly do not think you are failing. Quite the opposite.”
Remy delicately plucked one of the nearby flowers and walked towards her. Isabella paused, seeing the gesture and kneeling down just slightly to allow Remy to tuck it into her hair.
“Wherever you would like to be, I would like to follow. Chaperoned or not makes no difference to me.”
Isabella carefully touched the delicate lily in her hair, her face turning a pretty shade of pink as she locked eyes with him. Her chest hitched once, a delightful dance that elicited a rumble from Remy that was far from gentlemanly.
“I see,” Izzy replied, her voice taking on a musical quality that warmed his blood and rendered him speechless. “Then we will have to make sure we speak the same language from now on.”
“I agree.” With that, he leaned down and kissed her hand, a gentle bump of his tough snout against her soft hand. “Good evening, Princess.”