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

14 April 1021, L’École du Sorciers

My dearest cousin Armand,

Thank you for your letter, handed to me by your estimable Captain Grier. Does the poor man spend his whole life traversing the Abyss betwixt Armorica and the Old Lands? Though I suppose that is the common lot of any Courier’s Guild captain.

I am delighted to hear that Amelie is increasing again; perhaps this time you will have a son to carry on your name! If so, I know you will treat him more gently than my uncle treated you!

As to your caravan sales, I am unsurprised that not many of your fellow Armoricans are inclined to buy them, or to spend time “gallivanting about the wilderness, when they could be attending to their business.” Armorica is an overwhelmingly mercantile and agricultural land, and her notables did not become so by idling.

And yet, I have a thought. I have found our caravan to be so warm and snug within, that were it not for little Jane (and my own necessary training) Maximilian and I could have happily spent much of the winter on our ley-line survey, riding serenely above even the deepest snows!

I grow wistful; and perhaps I am making too light of the travails of winter travel, even in a snug caravan. But still: transport of goods shuts down in the deep winter in Armorica, doesn’t it? It seems to me that if you were to take our caravan and replace the living space with space for goods, it would allow a drover to deliver his goods in all weathers! Even an open wagon with an enclosure for the drover might do. Perhaps suggest this to your Leon Suprenant?

Last month I wrote you about Jane’s new nurse, Margaux. So for her performance has been satisfactory; which is to say that Jane appears satisfied with her care, and I am much better rested.

I am not quite comfortable with Margaux as yet. She is quiet and self-effacing, and though I have tried to speak with her she remains politely closed, answering as briefly as she might. She would do well in many of the great houses of Cumbria, I suppose, where servants are to be unseen and unheard, but Mama and Papa have always had a lighter hand with their retainers. Perhaps she is afraid of being snubbed?

I will say that her countenance is much less alarming, now that her bruises are fading and she is no longer exhausted. L’École’s livery suits her coloring.

My “training” has proceeded apace. I continue to frequent the chapel (though not so often in the wee hours as I had). And now that I am better rested, I am better able to take in stride the stream of small obstacles, catastrophes, and annoyances that (I have recently discovered) Drs. L’Laguerre and Guisman have been arranging for me.

In the past month Dr. Laguerre has summoned me at odd hours to run small errands: to carry a book to or from L’École’s library, or carry a note to the porter. Several times she has a sent a note to me at bedtime, directing me to provide her with an essay on, say, the meaning of elemental suasion in the writings of Master Johannes—to be handed in before breakfast.

One day this past week I was summoned by Dr. D’Estaing—a master I have had little to do with, as he practices a stream of wizardry wholly outside my ken. He cross-examined me, in the severest possible tones, on my use and misuse of the library, my habits of wandering about L’École after hours, the absurd privileges I was being granted, my personal hygiene and my nation of birth, and other such trivial or insulting matters. It was an appalling spectacle.

I am proud of myself, Armand; I remained calm, and held my peace until he was done. No flicker of flame shone in my eyes, and though tempted I refrained from day-dreaming about what I might do to him if I chose.

When he was quite done, “I beg your pardon. With all due respect to you as a master of L’École, I suggest that concerns about the privileges granted to me should be addressed to Dr. Guisman, and that all other matters concerning my conduct and progress as a student should be addressed to my tutor, Dr. Laguerre.” And then I asked leave to go, which he granted with a scowl.

And no, I left no new black spots out on the grounds as I returned to our rooms. Rather than allowing myself to seethe or brood, I sent a note to Dr. Laguerre asking to see her at her convenience; and then I went to the chapel.

Once my anger had subsided I realized that this had been a test. I said as much to Dr. Laguerre when I met with her. She simply nodded; and later that day I received a gracious letter of apology from Dr. D’Estaing, who said he found my forbearance remarkable.

Dr. Guisman has told me that I may now leave the grounds of L’École; and that Dr. Laguerre has approved me for advanced studies in the Stream of Johannes.

“The peril has receded,” he said to me. “You are ready. But—” and he fixed me with a severe look—”you must remain ever vigilant!”

Maximilian and I celebrated with lunch at a lovely café in the Bois D’Albertine, and with dinner with Lord and Lady Ellesmere at the Embassy.

But I find that now that I have been freed, I am content to remain at L’École and pursue my studies, both wizardly and historical.

Well. At least until it is time for us to resume our survey.

Your patient (!) cousin,

Amelia

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