Chapter 20

“This is the Violet Chalet,” Gavral said as they pulled up to a luxurious villa on the edge of the city. It had a wide, sweeping lawn and was made of a strange white stone with thin white threads of violet webbing throughout it.

“What is it made out of?” Gwendolyn asked.

“It’s made of Bordstone, which can only be mined out of a very small stretch of land in Bordover duchy. It’s just a few miles away from the Krastiv border.” Gavral said, adding, “it’s both rare and very expensive. A high honor that the King granted it to you.”

Gwendolyn stared up in awe, unsure of what to say.

“Shall we go inside?” Gavral asked quietly. Gwendolyn nodded wordlessly and, without taking her eyes off the chalet, opened the door to the carriage.

Outside, she stepped off the carriage, still looking up at the building before her. She turned sharply when she heard the carriage driver ask where to put the horses.

“Are they not being returned to the King?” she asked Gavral.

“No, my Lady, the horse and the carriage are gifts from Her Majesty.”

“This is all simply too much,” Gwendolyn muttered. “I am so much in their debt already.”

“It occurs to me, madam, that you don’t understand the size of the debt they owe to you. Returning Solithi was a balm which eased the anguish the family has endured since their son disappeared. That in and of itself is worth a small fortune. But what His Majesty may not have explained is the danger posed by a missing dragon.”

“Danger?” Gwendolyn asked. Gavral started to move forward but stopped when Gwendolyn spoke. Gwendolyn planted her feet, indicating that she wouldn’t move until she had her answers.

“Solithi is a youngling, only ten, the same age as her fallen Prince. But she’s strong, one of the strongest dragons the Capitol has seen in quite a while. Her size and speed are only matched by Harplie and Liella when they were her age. But she’s also not fully grown, or fully trained. If she were captured by enemies of the crown, they could manipulate her into accepting another rider, maybe even torture her. She was lost near the Krastiv border, and there were fears that they had taken her. There are those within Imirene, even, who would use her against the King. And I hardly need to cover Parcee and their long history of coveting the Royal dragons.”

Gwendolyn looked a bit startled, asking, “but didn’t one of the King’s sons marry the Princess?”

Gavral sighed. “Yes, Prince Marcal. He had a dragon, Bente, but he surrendered him as part of the peace treaty. No Royal Prince or Princess may keep their dragon if they marry a foreigner and move to a foreign nation. Prince Marcal was rather unhappy to give up Bente, but he wanted to be King.”

“He was the King’s oldest son, wasn’t he to become King here in Imirene?”

Gavral sighed. “The questions you’re asking don’t have easy answers. King Arelon hasn’t named a successor yet. It’s well known that he favors Prince Aparen. Liella is a rare dragon and nearly as powerful in her young age as Harplie. As you know, the successor to the throne is always the most powerful of the King’s heirs, and while that is usually the eldest son, it certainly doesn’t have to be. He was waiting for all his children’s dragons to come of age before he named a successor. Solithi was the last. Dragons are fully grown at twelve years. Without Prince Barlan, we expect the King to name a successor any day now, at least once the grieving period has ended.”

“So, Prince Marcal didn’t think he would be named as successor?”

“No,” Gavral said gravely. “The Prince had many disagreements with the King. He was unhappy that the King gave dragons to some of his sisters, which expanded the field of siblings he had to compete against. No woman has ever been named as a successor to the King, but no woman had ever been given a dragon either. The King refused to rule out the possibility of naming one of his daughters.”

“Prince Marcal wasn’t okay with that?”

“Let’s just say that the Prince has never shared his father’s views on a woman’s place. Prince Marcal and Princess Liiana, who is a Marchioness in Parcee now, have always been quite close, so Princess Liiana was never offered the chance to bond to a dragon. That drove a larger wedge between her and her father and brought the two siblings closer. When Prince Marcal married the Princess of Parcee, Princess Liiana immediately demanded her father arrange a marriage between her and a suitably influential man in Parcee.”

“Ah,” Gwendolyn said, tactfully. She considered the building for a minute, letting the silence linger. Eventually she spoke again, asking, “so you’re saying that the King feared the worst had happened to Solithi?”

“Precisely,” Gavral said. “You ended their fears and by helping to heal Solithi and returning her, you also neutralized the biggest threat to Imirene that we’ve seen in recent memory.”

Gwendolyn nodded lightly, but still looked up at the grand building with skepticism. “I still think they honor me too far. But, would you like to show me inside?”

Gavral laughed, springing forward enthusiastically. He walked slightly ahead of Gwendolyn, and he indicated things by pointing around as he spoke excitedly.

“The market is quite nearby, just over there,” he said, pointing to the left. “And you can find a straight route back to the castle by going that way,” he added, pointing back behind them, “but it’s much faster to go by carriage. It’s a thirty-minute walk, which is very pleasant in the summer but not as nice in the winter, of course. By carriage it is perhaps ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Is there only one market?” Gwendolyn asked.

“No, actually there are quite a few. The one closest to you is more informal, set up in a large square with mostly stalls set up rather than full buildings. A little further past that area is a few streets with many cafes and restaurants. The largest market area, which has many streets full of various stores and a large central area with a park and fountain, is between here and the castle. In nice weather, it’s walkable, but when it is too cold, or hot, or snowing, you may not wish to walk. It’s downhill from here, which makes the walk there easier but the walk back more arduous, especially laden with packages.”

They came to the front door of the large home, made of an impressive dark wood with an ornate door knocker in the middle. The door knocker was molded to resemble a wyvern, the tail curling up and back toward the body of the creature, forming the handle. Gavral pulled out a large, ornamental key. Opening the door, he swung it open, and Gwendolyn saw that the large, circular foyer was made of the same Bordstone, a huge, ornately woven rug in various shades of matching purple sitting in the center of the room. A pair of massive, curved staircases were directly opposite the entryway door and the bannisters were made of intricately detailed gold.

“The chandelier,” Gavral began, pointing upward, “was made in Krastiv out of a crystal that forms only in their most northern caves. It is more valuable than diamonds.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Gwendolyn said.

“I believe it’s called a lirenial diamond, though I confess I don’t know what it is made of or how it differs from a regular diamond.”

“Fascinating,” she said. A large set of double doors made of glass set into wooden frames sat beneath the double stairs. She moved forward curiously.

“Ah, the courtyard,” Gavral said. “Allow me,” and he hurried past her and threw the doors wide open.

Gwendolyn stepped lightly out into the sun, amazed to see an elaborate garden. “It’s beautiful,” she said. She stood on a stone patio, a step above the grass, decorated with delicate gold filigree and comfortable looking chairs. A golden banister surrounded the patio and thick strands of ivy curled over much of it, tendrils of it just barely creeping onto the patio itself.

“It is indeed,” Gavral said. “I must confess to you that I was quite excited to be assigned to your household. The Violet Chalet is one of the most beautiful buildings in the Capitol, aside from the Palace of course. Additionally, it’s a promotion for me, of course, and I have enjoyed working with you so far, Marquess Gwendolyn.”

“Gwendolyn is fine,” she said with a smile.

“Lady Gwendolyn,” he said, bowing. She laughed but allowed it.

“Come, I’ll show you the rest of the house,” he said. They went back into the foyer, turning left.

“Here is the dining room,” Gavral said. “And your kitchen staff will be arriving tomorrow, but your cook is here.”

“Kitchen staff?” Gwendolyn was surprised. “How many people could I need?”

“We’ve hired twenty people to start. Ten are servers, four are assistant cooks, one is the head cook, and five do the cleaning.”

“That’s too many!” Gwendolyn was scandalized.

“It’s a small household for a person of your station, actually. But as you are not married and have no children, it was decided to start small.”

“It seems much too large,” Gwendolyn mumbled.

“You’ll also,” Gavral said, raising his voice slightly, “have ten staff assigned to your chambers, three for laundressing, seven butlers or maidservants, four scribes, six miscellaneous servants who will help where they are needed, and two ushers. The King has assigned you ten guards until you’re able to hire your own security. Finally, you’ll have a Householding Matron who will oversee your staff of eight cleaning staff. A Groom of the Horse will care for the animals on the property and maintain your carriage, but if you acquire more than three, we may hire another groom to help out. Finally, as you make a name for yourself, you may take young ladies of lower noble families into your household for training as ladies in waiting or attendants.”

Gwendolyn mumbled something in a low, inaudible voice.

“That’s to start with,” Gavral said. “Shall we continue the tour?”

Gwendolyn didn’t say anything, but as Gavral began to walk, she followed. They moved across the elaborately gilded room, decorated in dark woods and red velvet, to a door that seamlessly blended into one wall, visible only because of a small wooden frame.

“Now, there’s also a corridor, which you noticed just before entering the dining room, and that connects everything in this wing. But servants during meals will enter and exit directly through this door,” he said, pushing it open.

Beyond the doorway, a tall woman with the blonde hair of The Floating Valley was rustling through an icebox. A large fireplace, big enough for cooking, was nearby and the rest of the kitchen, for Gwendolyn was sure that was what the room was, contained many countertops, knives, and pots of all sizes. A small woodstove also sat in one corner, for preparing smaller portions of food.

“Simply insufficient,” she was muttering, and Gwendolyn smiled, recognizing the accent of her home region. “Will need to check the cold room…”

“Ma’am,” Gavral said gently, and the woman whipped around. Upon seeing Gwendolyn, the woman immediately bowed.

“Marquess Gwendolyn,” she said while still deep in the bow, “I’m Idemay Briding, your head cook.”

“Just Gwendolyn, please,” Gwendolyn said once again. Idemay immediately shot a panicked look at Gavral. Ignoring it, Gwendolyn asked, “I think you’re from The Floating Valley, right? Which part?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m from Emberkeep. It’s quite far north, in County Stillrock. Your accent sounds like you might be from Sunkeep Valley?”

“I am, yes. I’m from Bartet.”

“Of course, I know Bartet. We got most of our barley from a farm there when I lived in Emberkeep.”

Gwendolyn giggled slightly nervously. “My family farm,” she said, nodding. “We were the biggest barley supplier in the Valley.”

“Ah, the Fields family? Yes, of course. I’m curious to know how you came to be in Ardelen,” Idemay said.

“It’s a long story. Perhaps I will regale you one day,” Gwendolyn said. Idemay bowed respectfully and said nothing else.

“Now, Lady Gwendolyn, please,” Gavral said, ushering her along. Gwendolyn gave Idemay a cursory nod, then followed Gavral toward yet another door.

“Through here is the servant’s quarters. The rest of the first floor of this wing is largely living quarters, storage, and a laundry. Some of our living space will also be found in the basement of this wing. As your Chancellor, you’ll find my room by going through the engraved door in the hallway. Upstairs, where we will go next, is where you’ll find your chambers. This way, you’re quite close to us and anything you may need can easily be brought to you.”

“Are all of your quarters private?”

“Yes, actually. Unusually, due to a clever design that may be unique to the Violet Chalet, all servants have their own private space for sleeping, when they aren’t on duty. Servants who are assigned to overnight shifts outside your chambers have a shared room they can utilize. Any sharing of our private rooms or beds is by choice. We even have a nursery for any servants with young children.”

“Well, that’s lovely,” Gwendolyn said. “And there’s adequate sanitation?”

“In fact, the Violet Chalet is fully equipped with the plumbing I demonstrated in the Palace. You have two furnaces, both in the basement, which are used to operate the system in the Chalet.”

“Even my staff will have this plumbing system?”

Gavral nodded excitedly.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Gwendolyn said softly.

Suddenly, a loud crashing noise above them distracted Gwendolyn, and she froze with fear. Gavral, however, sprang into action.

“Guards,” he shouted, “Guards! Lady Gwendolyn, stay here,” he added, running toward the servant’s staircase, which was tucked into a nearby corner. Before Gwendolyn had collected herself, Gavral had disappeared and two guards in the Royal uniforms of the King had come crashing around the corner urgently, rushing past Gwendolyn as she pointed them toward the stairs.