6
Alarie
“I’m heading to House Heroux this afternoon,” Jay announced to me as he topped off my coffee, the smell of the fresh brew permeating through the room.
He poured my coffee from the same glass French press he had poured my coffee from the last several weeks.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, pretending not to be disappointed that he wouldn’t be spending the day with me in the library.
Jay traveled a fair amount. But on the days when he was home, he usually spent breakfast with me and then time afterward in the library for my lessons. My lessons had expanded beyond any content that could be found in textbooks. Jay had started to teach me skills that he found useful in his agents at the High Court—how to listen without speaking, when to speak without saying anything, when to use a smile or a touch of the arm instead of words.
I had to admit that I had nursed a bit of a schoolgirl crush for Jay. He could be stern with me but only in a way that pushed me to do better and try harder. He was distant but never unkind, and I couldn’t help but wonder as to what was underneath his high lord facade.
But I knew my crush was just that—a silly crush and nothing more. There were always people going into and out of the manor when Jay was in town, messengers and agents who came to report to the high lord. But I also heard and saw the many women coming and going from the manor when Jay was home. I could tell from the hushed tones and clicking of heels that disappeared down to his wing of the manor late at night that those visits were of a different nature.
I wasn’t surprised, honestly—there was no sign that Lady Vitruvian lived in the manor. She was always gone and then there was the way Jay talked about her, referring to her as simply “the lady” most of the time. It all started to make sense. He was circumspect, but he didn’t exactly try to hide the women who ran through his bedroom week after week. All signs pointed toward his marriage being something more of form rather than substance, the kind of arrangement I knew was not uncommon among those at the High Court, due to the unions that often occurred for reasons other than love.
“Just a High Council meeting,” he responded, as if regular meetings with the King were something to be casually thrown about.
Then I remembered that for Jay, meetings with the King were everyday occurrences. I had picked up on the fact that Jay was not only Contra but also a good friend to the King.
“And you’re coming with me,” the high lord commanded casually.
I perked up at this unexpected announcement. I’d spent most of my time at the High Court so far studying in Jay’s library for my liaison exam. What little time I wasn’t studying, I spent hanging out with Luke and Rhett at the bars and restaurants away from the High Court that they referred to as “off campus.”
“It’ll be just the High Council meeting with the King,” he clarified. “But the Houses will bring their favorite liaisons, advisors, counselors, and there will be an informal meeting of sorts between them as well.”
My stomach clenched at the thought of being one of Jay’s “favorites.” Then I internally chided myself for not being fully over my crush on the high lord, after all.
I realized the meeting would be a test of sorts to see if I was ready to be thrown in with the wolves at the High Court. Although the only official test that I knew of to complete the liaison program was the written test, I knew that to succeed as a liaison, I had to do more than make good marks. This part of my role as liaison was what Luke and Jay had spent most of their time preparing me for lately. They’d armed me with insider knowledge of every House and every member of every House—who were allies, who were at odds, the internal power struggles within Houses. But they also shared knowledge with me of a more intimate nature—the state of a lord’s marriage, tension regarding lines of succession, financial troubles, the kind of stuff most people didn’t talk about openly.
I was ready. This battle of the minds was exactly what I had pictured in my head all those years ago when I had set my sights on the liaison spot.
“Sounds good,” I responded, downplaying the anticipation I felt. “You’ll have to give me a few minutes to change, though. I dressed for the library, not House Heroux, this morning.”
Jay gave my outfit an appraising look. I wore an asymmetrical gossamer skirt that showed the top of one of my thighs through a high slit. My skin burned under his attentive gaze, but I didn’t shy away.
“I’ll be here,” he responded coolly, freeing me of his commanding presence.
I went upstairs to change and get ready for my day at House Heroux. Although it had only been a few weeks, I had an extensive new wardrobe, compliments of the high lord. After my first lesson with him, I’d awoken to a box with a pair of exquisite heels inside that had been slipped into my room over the night. Then one evening, I returned to my room for the night to find an entirely new ensemble of the finest dresses, skirts, blouses, heels, and also more intimate items—thigh-highs, lacy nightdresses, and silky, frilly, lacy, matching bra and panty sets.
My style was simple and sexy—a look I’d curated, knowing I didn’t have the resources and, honestly, the interest to indulge in trendier items. I found the latest style of clothing to be restricting and often spent too much time worrying whether I was going to have some kind of wardrobe malfunction and end up showing even more skin than I intended. My new clothes had a lot more strings, slits, plunging necklines, and sheer fabrics than my prior wardrobe. However, my new wardrobe was more in line with the style of the High Court, which veered toward sexy and minimal skin coverage.
I had thanked the high lord the following morning for my new wardrobe, but he made very little of the gift and went back to his work. I was thankful that he had not made much fanfare out of the gift. The truth was that it was difficult for me to accept gifts. I had a fierce independent streak that didn’t allow me to accept help or gifts from others. I’d never wanted to be in anyone’s debt for anything, so if I couldn’t afford it on my own, I just made do without, and if I couldn’t do something on my own, I found another way to make it work.
The fact that the high lord had probably gifted me the wardrobe for his own benefit more than that of mine made the present a little easier to accept. As a representative of House Vitruvian, he needed everything about me to reflect the excellence of his House, and I guessed that the wardrobe I’d brought to the High Court didn’t meet his standards.
I usually leaned into black in my clothing choices, but other than my undergarments, my new wardrobe was almost entirely shades of blue, the color of House Vitruvian. I slid on a thin, white silk bra and a matching thong. Then I pulled on a pair of tall, nude stilettos that came to a point at the toe and buckled around my ankle. I wore one of my new dresses, a dark royal blue number, form-fitting, that hit mid-thigh, with a sheer silk overlay that went to my ankles. The hem was shorter and the neckline was a bit deeper than I would have gone with normally, but I would fit right in with the other ladies at the High Court.
* * * *
I caught a glimpse of the King as he headed through the expansive room at House Heroux. He had an overbearing figure and was tall, not quite as lean as Lord Vitruvian, with tawny brown hair curling past his ears and sky-blue eyes. Jay followed the King, and as he walked through the room, each conversation he passed by was extinguished just short of his arrival, like their words were a fire and his very presence sucked all the oxygen from the room.
The King and his Contra met each other in their last few paces and walked shoulder to shoulder toward double heavy, wooden doors until reaching the threshold, at which point Jay paused as if just remembering that it was not he who was King. Jay allowed the King to go in first before leading the way for the others. High Lord Rein moved into the room after Jay, followed by High Lady Tragon, her shoulder-length auburn hair disappearing behind the closed doors. I noted that no one appearing to be Luke’s father was there for the High Council meeting.
With Jay no longer in sight, the conversations in the room started back up with renewed vigor. Luke appeared next to me while I still stared at the doors the High Council had disappeared into.
“Ah, welcome to the inner circle, Lady Armand,” Luke joked, beaming with a smile.
“Lord Bellamy, how very nice to see you again,” I replied, picking up on his use of my title and copying his formality.
“The pleasure’s all mine, my lady,” Luke quipped, a playful look in his eye.
I subconsciously matched his smile with one of my own. I normally wasn’t a very smiley person, but when Luke flashed me one of his smiles, I didn’t think anyone could resist matching it.
“Look, here’s the deal,” Luke whispered, dropping the lord act and leaning into me.
He placed his large hand on my lower back and pulled me into a hug, pretending like we were still exchanging pleasantries.
“If I would’ve known Jay was bringing you, we could’ve pre-gamed. But this room of prim and proper lords and ladies is quickly going to devolve into a pit of flirtatious vipers. So, like we’ve discussed, flirt and imply and suggest and use the information we have been feeding you, but never give up anything useful. And if you find yourself in a tight spot, catch my eye and I’ll come save you.”
Pulling out of the hug, Luke hovered his mouth near my ear. His warm breath on my neck caused a shiver to run down my spine.
“But, Al, most of all, have some fun. I know you’re going to fucking kill at this,” he whispered.
And with that last comment, Luke broke apart from our seemingly friendly embrace and laughed like I’d said something funny. He discreetly raised his eyebrows at me as if to say, “Here we go,” before moving into the throng of the High Council’s elites.
I took in a deep breath, trying to gather myself in the absence of his smile, his laugh, and his unshakable confidence. The other men looked at Luke with thinly veiled envy, and the ladies stared at me, also envious, no doubt wondering why I deserved the attention of the suffocatingly charming young lord.
I returned my mind to the task before me. This was a situation I felt perfectly comfortable in. It turned out that high fae lords and ladies were no different from the lesser fae I grew up with in Harborview in this regard. I knew how to use the eyes of the lords that lingered on me to my advantage, and I knew every lady in there would hate me for it. I approached the crowd with a self-assured smirk.
“Where are you from, love?” my first prospect asked.
By High Court standards, he was an ordinary man in looks, especially when compared to the likes of Jay or Luke or Rhett. But I could tell from the way he swaggered toward me that he was oblivious to his unremarkable nature. As he reached my side, I gifted with him a coy smile.
“I’m from Harborview, love,” I imitated. I caught a few sneers out of the corner of my eye in response to my admission that I was from somewhere as provincial as my small, beachy hometown. “And who might you be?” I asked.
“Jeremiah Thierry, but you can call me Jer,” he said with a grin.
Thierry, I ran through the encyclopedia in my head, developed from my recent lessons from Luke and the high lord. A distant cousin to the Crown, but one in the King’s good graces. That explained the overconfidence. But it also explained why he was the first person to approach me. I was wearing the blue of House Vitruvian, and House Thierry was friendly with House Vitruvian as well.
“Jer, who’s your new friend?” another man asked, moving to stand next to Jer.
No matter how different things were at the High Court from Harborview, some things would always remain the same. It was a universal truth that, as the new girl at Court, I was going to be more interesting than a known commodity.
Luke walked up to me about an hour later.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
I looked at him, unsure that I should leave before the high lord.
“There’s nothing to be gained here at this point. And they’re going to take forever in there.” Luke jerked his head toward the room where the King and his High Council were still holed up.
“We’ve gotten everything we’re going to get out of this lot”—he nodded his head toward the other lords and ladies still in the room—“and Jay will be in there with the King hours more.”
I tended to agree with Luke’s assessment. I’d accomplished little more that evening than establishing with the other House agents that I would not be bulldozed, like some may have believed, just because of my humbler origins. I’d also confirmed that Luke was a man among knaves and everyone, even his own House agents, thought Cole Tragon was a petulant twat.
“Yeah, ok. Let’s go, Luke,” I replied.
As we walked out of the King’s manor, Luke playfully nudged me with his elbow.
“Come on, Al, you had fun in there, didn’t you?”
I gave him a thoughtful look out of the corner of my eye before breaking into a crooked smile.
“It did feel pretty damn easy,” I confided in him.
“Of course, it did,” he said, giving me a wide smile. “You’re a natural, just like me,” he bragged. “But let’s talk about Jay,” he continued in a more serious tone, wrapping one arm around my shoulders as we continued to walk.
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of Jay’s name, and I internally reprimanded myself. It was beyond time for me to accept that Jay was never going to think of me in that way.
“He can be very particular about his briefings. Don’t try to give him just the high-level details. You get into the nitty-gritty with him. If someone gave you a look, and you thought it seemed off, you tell him. And don’t, under any circumstances, say anything nice about House Tragon,” Luke warned.
“Why?” I asked, thinking back to the negativity I’d picked up from the high lord during my lesson mentioning House Tragon. I could have guessed about the high lord’s demand for detail before Luke’s admonition, but I wasn’t sure what the high lord’s issue was with House Tragon.
“Ah, well, let’s just say the high lord believes that High Lady Tragon was too friendly with the north at one point during the war, and he’ll not be persuaded otherwise,” Luke answered. “And her son definitely hasn’t done anything to help their reputation.”
I tried to think back on everything I’d read about High Lady Tragon recently. Her husband had died in the last war, and shortly after, she’d become high lady, the only high lady ever appointed to the High Council. She was from a northern border town, and House Tragon was located along the border as well. Location alone didn’t implicate the high lady of impermissible northern ties, though. House Rein was also located in the north and was known as one of the most loyal Houses to Valencia and King Heroux. I knew I was missing something.
“Don’t think too hard on it, Al,” Luke joked. “Work’s over for the day. Let’s go have some fun!” he said, squeezing his arm around me and pulling me closer into his body.
I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. Leave the new kid in the dark. Guess I’ll have to find out on my own,” I quipped, pulling my long hair to the side and tucking under Luke’s arm.