Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter.

31 July 1020, L’École du Sorciers

My dearest cousin Armand,

Sa Majesté Royale le Roi de Provence has begun to make a nuisance of himself again. I have not written about him much, save that when I returned to L’École last March Dr. Laguerre warned me that His Provençese Majesty wished to enlist my magical aid in support of his military endeavors.

I am not at all sure what those endeavors might involve. He might be worried about incursions from the Land of Hanondorf, a rival and frequent enemy of the Provençese, and one treated badly by Le Maréchal, or from one or another of his neighbors; or perhaps he merely sits uneasily upon his throne and wishes my infernal aid against the anti-royalists among his own subjects.

His importunities came little to my notice during my first months back at L’École. I was distracted—or perhaps distrait is a kinder term for the hell I was going through—and though I am told he made many overtures during that time they were spurned by Dr. Guisman on my behalf.

But then, once I was thoroughly on the mend I went with Maximilian to dinner with Ambassador Ellesmere. as I wrote you last time; and so enjoyed being out of L’École for a few hours that I made the mistake of doing so again a few days ago.

What I had not known (nor did Maximilian inform me) is that Le Roi has also been making overtures to Lord Ellesmere regarding my services.

Mais, oui, Monsieur! Is not Armorica an ally of Provençe? Surely Cumbria wishes Provençe to stand strong against her enemies. Wrath against Le Maréchal and his incursions is still hot among the neighbors of Provençe, My Lord Ambassadeur. Madame Archer is a wizard of great strength, and as she is a Cumbrian citizen, could you not prevail upon her to serve Provençe in this time of need? And so on, and on, and on.

Lord Ellesmere has done his best to quash all such requests; but then someone in Le Roi‘s circle discovered that I came to the Embassy two weeks ago, and began to—it sounds so absurd—lie in wait.

And so it was that when Maximilian and I once again joined Lord and Lady Ellesmere for dinner several days ago (only my second excursion from L’École since my return to Provençe), l’Envoi du Roi was waiting, and insisted on being brought in to see me.

It is well said that practice makes perfect; and it is beneficial, I suppose, to have such excellent and thorough-going opportunities to practice.

The envoy, one Comte de Marigny, was a young man; I was later told that he had been a personal retainer of Le Roi during his bid for the throne and had been granted his title as a reward for his staunch partisanship.

I maintained a perfect calm while allowing the Comte to make his overtures. I have already given you the bare bones of it, for it was in no way remarkable in its substance: Le Roi du Provençe wants me to set his enemies on fire for him.

De Marigny clothed it in honeyed words about the friendly relations between Provençe and Cumbria, the needs of the Provençese throne, and a variety of insults and threats received from Hanondorf and other neighbors—for of course he could not speak of dissent in Provençe herself. In return he promised me a notable position in the Provençese court, and a generous yearly stipend from the Provençese crown.

I itched to ask him if I would receive an additional payment for each enemy to the throne I turned to ash, and if I were to get weekends and holidays off, but I managed to hold my tongue.

Once he had quite finished, I said, as calmly as I could and without a trace of fire in my eyes, “No, Monsieur. Under no circumstances. My training and my character likewise forbid it. Please give His Majesty my kind regards.” I did not let even a hint of flame show in my eyes.

De Marigny was visibly irritated that I had not addressed him by his title, though he was enough the diplomat to refrain from saying so; and as he could not remonstrate with a lady, and most especially not with a lady who is plainly increasing, he made his apologies and bowed himself out.

“Well done,” said Lord Ellesmere when the Comte had quite gone. “In future you should refrain from casting aspersions on His Provençese Majesty’s character, no matter how richly they are deserved; but still, well done. And perhaps now that he has heard it from you, that smarmy little man will cease to plague me. For I may tell you, he has been calling on me at least weekly since late March.”

“Well done, indeed!” Maximilian said to me with a smile. Turning to Lord and Lady Ellesmere, he continued, “Two months ago, or even less, and de Marigny would have been lucky to escape unsinged.”

“And wouldn’t that have been a headache,” said His Lordship. “Though it might have been worth it,” said Lady Ellesmere. His Lordship gave a rueful nod.

I bowed my head to them both, and said nothing; but as I told Maxmilian once we had returned to our rooms at L’École, I had struggled to keep the fires from rising. “And how I shall deal with an infant if I cannot spurn a jumped-up Provençese puppy without losing my temper, I do not know.”

I found it necessary to spend much time in the chapel, Armand, before I was able to seek my bed in peace.

Your embattled cousin,

Amelia

Next letter

____

Photo by Jennifer Yung on Unsplash