(Warning: Contains considerable spoilers for Blood and Wine DLC. God it's been ages since I've had to post a spoiler warning. I feel positively nostalgic.)
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What can I say about Toussaint and it's capital of Beaclair that you don't already know. Of course it's beautiful and no additional words from me are going to convince you one way or the other. At least not if you have not been convinced by the words of Dandelion the bard when he said that the lands of Toussaint are of an unshakeable beauty.
When he said that the place is truly the stuff of legend and fairytale come to life. Where the air itself is rich with the scent of wine. Where men are handsome, brave, noble and friendly while the women, from the highest rank to the lowest peasant are beautiful, charming and welcoming. Toussaint, that fairest of Duchys where the air itself is so rich and nurturing that just being there can cure a man of a hangover and mend a broken heart. Where the food is enough that even the poorest man wants for naught and the wine is of a quality that none can gainsay.
He can wax poetic can Professor Dandelion. It is certainly a beautiful place and no matter how jaded you might be or how sick or how... miserable that you might be. You can't help but perk up when you get there.
It was dark when we arrived, just in the early part of a winter's evening after the sun had set over the western horizon, but the waxing moon and the clear starlight meant that there was enough light to be able to look out over the Duchy itself and see the place bathed in that same pale-light.
It was also bitterly cold and I sneezed almost immediately.
We had arrived by Mage gate. There is a growing network of them now and the entire process leaves me feeling a little uncomfortable. Not the transport itself. I am reassured that if a transport ever goes wrong then I am unlikely to ever know about it and therefore I have respolved to stop worrying about the subject. But it seems that, as soon as a prominent mage, whether Male or Female, sets up their headquarters in a place then the first thing that they do is to create a stable place for other Mages to transport to.
Which sounds fair enough on the surface but I worry about the social and economic implications. Why?
Because to work these things you need a Mage. Mages guard their power jealously, both of the political and the magical kind. So for anyone else to use these gates then they must convince the mage to be on hand and to perform the necessary spells and rituals to create one, open one and to keep it stable in the meantime.But what if the mage is busy, tired, somewhere else, can't be arsed, doesn't give a shit, simply doesn't like your face?
Then you must convince the mage. How do you do that? Money, prestige and power. So it becomes a network for rulers. But also a network that nepotism and money can abuse and I worry that that way lies madness. If a man can use this to get his goods from A to B all the faster, he can then undercut his competitors on the market as he doesn't need to pay for wagons, ships, guards and everything that comes with that. And he would still make a more significant profit.
So those people who can afford to pay the Mage, or order the Mage, will become Richer and increase the gap between them and the competition.
I am well aware that there are two members of the Lodge of Sorceresses in my family unit in the personages of Ariadne and Laurelen. Therefore, my family and our merchantile endeavours will never struggle for the need of this kind of thing. But I worry for the future. I did take this up with Emma and she told me that this was one of those times where we just had to decide. We could decide to hate the system while using it to remain strong. Or we could not use the system on principle and be destroyed by those people that did not have our qualms.
I hated that logic and I told her so. She smiled sadly and said “And that's the real reason why Father left the business to me and not to you or Mark.”
She can be ruthless my sister but I am also left thinking that we are setting ourselves up to be hated in the future and I can't even really say that we don't deserve that hate.
We were getting into Toussaint, a week or so before the eventual formal creation of the new Knights of Saint Francesca.
And yes, I still wince at the name.
And that was a good several weeks after Yule itself. We had got in that early because the Duchess of Toussaint wanted to make a fuss of us, before and after the fact, and there were various balls and parties that we were invited to. We were also given pride of place in the stands when it would come time to watch the Tournaments. I had not wanted to go that early on the grounds that I actually wanted to spend as little an amount of time in Toussaint as possible. I had no good memories of that place at all and was concerned that the constant reminders of past events would not be helpful or healthy for me. But it was Emma that changed my mind and convinced me otherwise.
“Freddie,” She began. “First of all, you are sick and you are not thinking that clearly. Some good Toussaint wine will cure whatever ails you. Secondly, we have all had a stressful year. Some more than others. There is nothing wrong with us all going to Toussaint to be pampered and treated like honoured guests for a while. We deserve it.”
“Hear hear.” Kerrass muttered audibly from where he was reading a book nearby.
Mark rapped his knuckles on the table in agreement from where he was still trying to teach Ariadne to play Gwent. He was losing. I have a sneaking suspicion that Ariadne learned everything he had to teach a while ago and is now taking every opportunity to beat him while still pretending to be a weak and not entirely skilled player. She smiles so sweetly when she says something like “Does that mean I win? Fascinating.”
“And thirdly,” Emma finished with a sad smile. “Toussaint is a beautiful, wonderful place and The Duchess wants to make it up to you after everything that you went through last time you were there. The place and the people want to apologise and make it up to you. Let them.”
How could I refuse something like that.
So I found myself dressing appropriately and trooping down to Ariadne's basement which is where she keeps her transport area. Some servants, who's names I still haven't quite learned yet, carried our trunks and things down while Ariadne waited for the magical all clear. Laurelen was offering careful and helpful commentary. This before Ariadne nodded and started muttering something under her breath before moving her hands in a circle.
And then there was a black, swirling vortex in front of us.
Mark went first and was accompanied by a couple of his Cardinal servants. He wasn't travelling as a Cardinal here so he didn't go with the full entourage. There was etiqutte and things about it all that I didn't understand, but he seemed comfortable with it.
Emma went next followed by Laurelen who was moving all of our goods through with some form of magic. I did wonder, as a joke, whether she could move me through the gate in the same way, but she laughed at me and told me not to be silly.
Kerrass checked to see if I was alright, he's doing that a lot at the moment causing me to dub him “Kerrass the ever present nursemaid”, before striding forwards himself with the same attitude of a man walking into fire. He still hates portals although apparently, it's a Witcher thing in general. Something to do with the channeled Magical Force that makes them feel uncomfortable. I followed close behind with Ariadne bringing up the rear.
The Transport location is still in the rose Garden of Beaclair palace. But it is now in one of the gazebo/folly type places. It's the sort of place where people go for outdoor food and meetings. Young lovers go there to court, that kind of thing. And as I stepped through, I moved from the cold, damp wetness of the North and into the crisper cold of the South. It was that picturesque cold where the frost glistens on stone and grass alike which conspires to make it look even more beautiful. I don't know if all of this ridiculous and seemingly over the top attractiveness just makes me instinctively dislike the place, but there was no getting away from the fact that Toussaint is a magical place.
There were three people that there there to meet us.
The first and most known to me was Lady Fringilla Vigo, one of the Lodge of Sorceresses. I know her for two reasons. The first is that she is one of those same Sorceresses that, at some point, had an affair with Lord Geralt of Rivia and fell in love with him. Rather hard I'm told. Which means that the White Haired Witcher has had open and public affairs with three members of the Lodge in the persons of Lady Vigo, Lady Yennefer and Lady Merigold. What is even more perplexing, to me at least as well as to other members of society, is that there doesn't seem to be any animosity between the three women.
The other reason that I knew her was in her proffesional capacity as she was one of the women that had been involved in the investigation during the immediate aftermath of Francesca's disappearance. I remember her as being charming, in a professional kind of way, as well as intelligent and fairly clinical. She reminded me a lot of Lady Yennefer in many ways, but I don't think that that should be too surprising. No sooner did we all come through the gate than Lady Vigo was rushing forward to embrace Laurelen and Ariadne with a squeal of delight. The ladies of the lodge work hard to maintain personal friendships among themselves and as such, they do not hide their delight upon seeing each other.
The next man was tall and well built. His head was shaven bald to an almost mirror sheen and he had a magnificent moustache and small soulpatch beard. A style that I normally find aggravatingdue to the fact that such a style is normally, I have found, worn by complete and utter cretins that think it makes them look dashing. In general it does not. But in this case, it rather suited the man. He was well built as only men who spend vast amounts of time wearing and training in heavy plate armour can be well built. He wore his pouldrons, gauntlets and vambraces as well as armoured boots and bracers. He seemed to have foregone any armour that covered his chest or neck however.
I do not know why he did that or why anyone should do that. I know the man a little better now and I suspect that it's because this was the line in the sand. He would, by the Sun, surrender no more military guise in the name of etiquette and courtly fashion. He did wear a leather coat with the Duchy's coat of arms over his chest. At his side was a Long sword that was plain and business like. Thus setting him apart from many of his fellows in Toussaint who like jewelled hilts and rich ornamentation. This, as well as being credited with being among the best swordsmen on the face of the continent.
His armour was well made but lacked the polish, paint and lacquer of other armour in Toussaint. It was also criss crossed with lines where the armour had been struck by blades and I quickly guessed that his fighting style would involve parrying or pushing aside blades with his arms while finishing off his opponents with his sword. Kerrass' training is still in my head and I forced myself to set aside schemes on how to defeat this man should I end up fighting him.
He was a handsome man but one side of his face was hideously scarred. An injury that he sustained while rescuing citizens of Beauclair during the night of the Long Fangs in Toussaint a few years prior.
If you wish to learn more about that event, then please consult Professor Dandelion's treatise on the events. “Blood & Wine: A Witcher's adventures in Toussaint.”
The third was a slim woman that I did not recognise. Dark haired with pale eyes, she was astonishingly beautiful with a glint of mischief in her face and smile. She reminded me so much of Duchess Anna-Henrietta that I am, frankly, a little ashamed that I didn't figure out who she was for an astonishingly large amount of time.
She was wearing a suit of Half-plate armour over a very expensive looking shirt of chain mail where the links were forged ridiculously small, presumably, making the armour much lighter than the average shirt of chain. I do not know by what artifice it was achieved but the armour was cut to allow the woman full movement and was shaped to emphasise her femininity. Most notably, obviously, her breast-plate was beaten out in two prominent areas and the rest of the armour was similarly forged so that there was no doubts as to the shape of the woman underneath.
This too was a compromise when it came to matters regarding the court. She had wanted one thing which was to be fully armoured, court wanted her to be in more “feminine attire” and so she had met them in the middle. It was still a suit of armour though. None of these ridiculous gaps that expose cleavage, thigh or midriff that you find in fanciful artwork of the male fantasy of women warriors.
I know this woman a lot better now as well and as a result, I also know that she keeps a much more protective and practical suit of armour for more combative and practical occasions. Her sword was lighter, slimmer and without knowing, I guessed it to be amazingly sharp. She also had a short sword and a dagger that both looked much cruder, more used and more brutal looking.
Emma stepped forward.
“Captain Damien De La Tour of the Duchess' Household Guard,” She introduced and the man nodded “And Knight Commander Sylvia Anna of the Knights of Saint Francesca.” The woman also bobbed her head. As I watched, I wondered if I was imagining her amusement at the title that Emma gave her.
Emma continued the introductions though.
“It is my honour to present my brothers Cardinal of the Eternal Flame. His Eminence Mark, Baron von Coulthard and Lord Frederick von Coulthard.” I nodded at the appropriate juncture. “Madame la Comtesse Ariadne of Angral.” Ariadne bobbed in a small curtsy, “And of course you will remember My friend and companion Lady Laurelen and master Witcher Kerrass of the Feline School.”
Laurelen Curtsied and Kerrass bowed appropriately.
“Master Witcher.” The man, Damien stepped forward and greeeted Kerrass with the Warrior's grip. “It is good to see you again.”
“And you Captain.” Kerrass smiled easily. “You seem to be keeping well.”
Captain De La Tour scratched at his scars, it seemed a reflexive action. “Yes, well. I will be happier when Law enforcement is back in the hands of Toussaint again. Knights and guardsmen of Toussaint have kept the peace for centuries and although I cannot deny that the Knights Errant lost their way in the time leading up to the disappearance of Saint Francesca...”
It was not my imagination. Commander Sylvia Anna did smirk at the “Saint” in Francesca's title.
“... But I think it's high time we took back over.” De La Tour finished.
“And is everything to your satisfaction Knight Commander?” Emma asked the woman who I now recognised as the formerly estranged sister of the Duchess.
“Quite ready Em.” She said with an utter lack of formality that was shocking and amusing at the same time. “We have everything we need and grateful to you.”
“Good.” Emma answered. “Well if anything comes up?”
“I will let you know.” the Knight Commander said with a grin. “Have no fear. But we will do Francesca proud.”
“Saint Francesca,” De La Tour corrected, his moustache quivering in indignation.
Commander Sylvia Anna levelled a Withering glare at the Captain. “Captain, I remember getting drunk with a mischeivous young woman who competed with me in who could eat the most sausage pastries in one go. I have the distinctest memory of a girl in a dirty shirt brushing pastry crumbs from her cleavage in iritation. I can think of nothing that would make her laugh, or be more disgusted by, than for me to call her “Saint” Francesca.”
Captain De La Tour harrumphed in displeasure. “Your Servant ladies, gentlemen. But I will carry news of your arrival to her grace the Duchess. I am to inform you that for tonight, at least, you shall eat at her table and that you are housed in the guest wing of the castle. From their discussions will be had for the rest of your stay and I join her grace in hoping that you will be able to stay for a long time.”
He glared at the Knight Commander again before bowing and moving off. Radiating displeasure with every stamp of his feet.
For her part the Knight Commander positively simmered with Innocence until Captain De La Tour was well aware before she cackled and threw her arms round Emma and Laurelen with a squeal of delight and the familiarity of old friends.
“Sun preserve me but I love doing that to him.” She said in a much more normal tone of voice.
“You really shouldn't bully him as much as you do Syanna,” Emma chided her gently.
“He needs to get used to it.” The Knight Commander responded easily. “I'm going to marry that man one day, not that he knows that yet, and he needs to get used to the fact that I am in charge.”
I was appalled. “But...” Slipped out before I could stop it.
“But what Lord Frederick?” The Knight Commander asked, positively brimming with demure innocence again. She had her sister's charisma and dominated the space that she was in. But where her sister's demeanor is regal and Queenly, Lady Sylvia Anna's charisma was friendly, disarming and capable of putting you at your ease.
When she wants to. I understand that she can also be as cold, austere and terrifyingly implacable in her rage. Something else that she shares with her sister.
“But he clearly hates you.”
“I know.” She nodded enthusiastically with a laugh and her eyes shining. “That's what makes it so much fun. I give it another six months tops before I finally manage to push him over the edge and we have our first bout of angry, hate sex.”
“Syanna.” Emma moaned rubbing her brow.
“Then we'll wake up in a mess of broken furniture and torn clothing and he will be horrified and mortified before running off to Annarietta to fall on his sword in disgrace. My sister will be mortified and insist that he propose marriage to me immediately to save on embarrassment for everyone and Damien will be forced to come and request marriage. Then I will make him work for it.”
She laughed in delight and the humour was infectious as she started counting on her fingers.
“We're talking flowers, poems, sweetmeats, moonlit walks by the river where I shall confound him by wearing pretty dresses, jewellery and make-up. All the while he hates me while being unable to keep from falling in love with me.”
I felt my own humour rising to the occasion.
“So confident of your charms?”
“Oh Lord Frederick. He's besotted with my sister who, I look almost exactly alike, other than the fact that I have more fun than she does. He knows that she is out of his reach and I will switch from being my normally sharp and bitchy self to being the epitome of Toussaint Feminine Grace. He won't know what hit him.”
She whistled and a team of men in full plate armour polished to a mirror sheen came into the space to pick up our belongings. Huge men in huge armour with equally huge swords and they all started marching up to the castle. They were different from the knights that I had known previously in that their armour was not Golden, nor ornamented. Instead it was steel. Hard, shining steel. The weapons were the same, only varied in the size, grip and bindings. Their helmets were on with visors lowered. More men came into view.
“Ladies and Gentlemen” The Knight Commander spoke a little more formally. “It is my honour to present Guillaume de Launfal who will be commanding your guard for the duration of your stay in Toussaint.”
One of the new arrivals came into view and took his helmet off, bowing with a flourish. Lady Sylvia Anna cleared her throat noisily and the young man stopped his bow and started again with a much plainer, more military bow.
Like all his fellows, Sir Guillaume was massively built and a truly beautiful man with Long Golden hair, blue eyes and a cleft in his chin. He almost vibrated with the desire to do something to show his devotion to our protection or to do some violence to our enemies.
Sir Guillaume is also one of the most romantic lovers in Toussaint. Due to the fact that he is married to one of the Duchess' ladies in waiting after helping Lord Geralt lift a curse from that Lady's shoulders. The couple were travelling the continent at the time of my last visit here on orders of the Duchess and as a result, I had not met him previously.
He replaced his helmet after bowing and stepped back into line.
“These men are your guards.” The Knight Commander said formally. They go where you go. You may trust them with your lives and your privacy. They will not divulge your secrets, even if you must keep assignations with married people of whichever gender you find appealing, or visit an apothecary about a dose of the pox. So do not think that you must try to escape your protectors. They protect your honour as much as they do your person so please do not damage them so early in their tenure.”
She said the last with a smile.
“Hang on.” I said after a moment. “I still want to know about why you would want to marry a man that hates you.”
“Oh we do have something in common Lord Frederick.” She stepped in next to me and linked her arm with mine and pulled Ariadne over with her other so she could walk between us. Ariadne was fascinated and hung on every word.
“And what is that?”
“We both love Toussaint.” She said that last fiercely and without compromise. “And after everything that happened to you here. I am determined to show you that side of the countryside that I love. I know that Toussaint did not do right by you last time you were here and that after everything that happened, you will still not see us at our best. But I hope that if you give us a chance, you will let us show you why we all love our country.”
I took a deep breath. “I will try to keep an open mind.”
“That is all I ask.” She said.
Then I sneezed.
So my now, ever-present nurse maid Kerrass stepped in. “I know that there are ceremonies and things to carry out.” He told Lady Sylvia Anna. “But my friend has not quite recovered from a long period of illness and he is rather susceptible to the cold.”
Lady Sylvia Anna leant in close and peered at me. “I thought you looked a little pale. Even for someone just coming through a gate. What's wrong with him?”
“Nothing.” I insisted.
“Fatigue mostly.” Ariadne answered for me.
“Of body and mind.” Kerrass put in. “As well as a combination of injuries sustained over the last year or so that have conspired to gang up on him in recent weeks.”
“Ah, I should have seen.”
“He has also suffered numerous psychological injuries.” Ariadne said carefully. “Meaning that his nervous system is completely shot. Do you know what I mean by that Knight Commander?”
“I do actually. I have seen it in the past. And I have had cause to struggle with such matters myself even if the practical knowledge is rather lacking on the continent.” She sniffed. “And please, call me Syanna.”
“That's a little informal isn't it.” I commented, “we have only just met.” Now that I was thinking a little more clearly and therefore fighting off the dissappointment that coming to Toussaint would not mean that I was out of the influence of people mothering me. I also knew exactly who this woman was, what she had tried to do and how close her efforts came to nearly destroying Toussaint as a whole. But despite all of this, I found that I was struggling not to like this strange woman.
“Lord Frederick, you will find as we get to know each other, which we will as I insist on the two of us becoming firm friends, is that informality is one of those things that I simply live for. Would you like to know why?”
I sighed. Before sneezing again.
Syanna gestured and one of the escorting knights removed a fur cloak from his back and draped it round my shoulders. I instantly felt warmer and was forced to admit that I might not be as well as I might have wanted to be.
“Why?”I asked her as I settled the monstrously heavy cloak around my shoulders.
“Because it drives my sister insane.” Syanna said with infectious glee. “And there have been times over the last few years since I returned from exile, that driving my sister insane is what keeps me going.”
A flash of unhappiness flashed across her face to quickly be banished. “I can't say I don't deserve it though.” She took a breath and seemed to square her shoulders a little. “Madame La Comtesse?”
“Yes?” Ariadne asked.
“Might I assume that you know of my past?”
“I do.” There was no emotion in Ariadne's face and she was staring straight ahead.
Syanna took another deep breath. “Did you know Dettlaff?”
“I did.”
We walked along in silence for a while. Emma, Laurelen and Fringilla were chatting away at the back with Kerrass just behind Ariadne, Syanna and I.
“My duties...” Syanna cleared her throat. “My duties mean that I cannot completely distance myself from your party as the Coulthard family are almost sacred to us. But if you would rather that I limit my time spent in your presence then I will understand.”
Ariadne took a moment to consider this.
“I will not deny,” She began slowly before gaining confidence. “That before my release and my own struggles to integrate with modern human society, I would have hated you and taken great delight in tearing your spine out with my bare hands. And only that if I could not come up with a slower and more painful means of killing you.”
The surrounding knights stopped abruptly and turned to face us, hands going to sword hilts and our little group crashed to a halt.
The tension was heavy before, again, my expectations were confounded.
“Oh please.” Syanna's voice dripped with scorn and contempt. “If she wanted me dead she would not have told me about it in advance and if she did, there would be nothing you could do about it. You.” She gestured at one of the helmeted knights. What are our rules about assessing threats?”
“That we are not to rush blindly in to danger without properly assessing the situation.” The metallic voice came out, rather clipped and educated in tone.
“Very good. And you?” She gestured to another. “And what do we do if we find the danger to be more than we can handle?”
“Properly assess level of danger and fetch help.” This time the voice was female and I hoped that I was able to contain my surprise.
“Very good. I remind you all that the last time an angry Elder Vampire came to Toussaint it took a Master Witcher AND.... another elder Vampire to subdue that same. So what possible chance do you think you could all do about it with your shiny armour and silly pointy sticks?”
The silence was telling.
“Now, we have guests, including an injured and sick man, freezing to death while her grace the Duchess is waiting. Perhaps we might be better moving along? Guillaume?”
The only knight that hadn't put his hand to his sword hilt shouted out some quick commands and we were on the move again.
“Sorry about that.” Syanna told us all quietly. “They do still have a tendency to get too protective which can be a little grating. You were saying Madame Comtesse.”
Ariadne had watched the entire situation passively. She would later admit to me that she was rather amused by the entire affair.
“Yes. I was saying that once I would have sought vengeance. Now though?” She sighed. “Humans like to make things much more complicated than they actually are. Dettlaff loved you and you broke his heart. What you did was evil and he did not deserve what you did to him. You broke his heart and then used him for your own vengeance.”
“I did.”
“And people died as a result.”
“They did.”
“Dettlaff over-reacted in that regard. But he only over-reacted in terms of human justice. In Vampire society, he would have been completely justified in his actions. He should have tempered his feelings given that he knew he was dealing with a human. You should have been aware of precisely what you were unleashing when you did what you did.”
“Yes I should.” Syanna admitted. I got the feeling that this was not a new conversation for her and that she had come to terms with it a long time ago.
We walked along in silence for a bit longer.
“Humans have this talent that Vampires lack.” Ariadne said. “You change according to the circumstance. You learn from your mistakes with a scale and a speed that.... frankly.... Vampires sometimes find intimidating. You do not seem to be the kind of women that would do things like that now.”
“I hope not.” She said. “But I have something now that I did not have back then when I started all of that horror.”
“Which is?”
“I am home.” She responded. “I have my family back. True, only my sister and she still aggravates me a lot and I work at forgiving her for her part in my pain every day. That is hard as it's just infuriating as to how holier-than-I she can get when she tells anyone who will listen, as to how much she loves me and how much I have changed. But I also have a cause that I believe in which is to drag the flower of Toussaint's knighthood into the modern continent, before they become anachronistic to the point of obsolescence.”
“Then I cannot completely say that I am happy with your presence.” Ariadne said. “I am still too much a Vampire to forgive the hurt that you did him. But I am endeavouring to live in a human society and therefore, I will work on that. On the surface you seem charming and personable. So I will work on it from the perspective that you are a different woman from who you were then and I shall take it from there.”
Syanna nodded.
“For what it's worth, I am sorry.”
Ariadne put her head on one side as she considered this. “I will accept your apology and I will work on forgiving you. But I cannot promise that I will be entirely successful.”
Syanna nodded.
I was feeling better by the moment. The warm cloak really was helping. Yet another piece of evidence that although I was feeling much better, I still wasn't completely well. Not completely healed I should mean. I would trick myself into thinking that everything was ok and then something would catch me and I would burst into tears. Or like now, a time where I judged that it wasn't really very cold all things considered. Not compared to some of the conditions that Kerrass and I had encountered during our past journeys or times.
But suddenly, just the presence of a warm cloak and the resulting warmth made me realise that my feet were freezing. My nose cleared from the already kind of blocked situation that it was in and a headache that I had been convincing myselt to be a phantom, vanished.
“So, given that I too, know who you are.” I began. “How did the people of Toussaint come to... How did you come to be the commander of the knights?”
Syanna laughed easily, “I thought you knew.” She turned her head. “Emma?” She called chidingly. “Why did you not tell your brother about me.”
“In all fairness, when was I going to tell him?” Emma said. “The last time we weren't tied up in other things was... well.... this time last year. After that, there was that business with de Radford meaning that I couldn't tell him then. Then he was recovering from being tortured, poisoned, and all the rest of it in the North and most recently, he was, and still is,” She glared at me. Not that I was looking at her but I could feel my sister's chiding disapproval on the back of my head. “rather ill,”
“I see.” Syanna smiled. “Then here is the story which is also the explanation as to why you didn't meet me when you were here for the coronation. I was, and still am to a certain extent, in disgrace and as such, people pressured my sister to keeping me locked up. Not that mine was a particularly arduous prison. I was overseeing the production of wine at the Castel Ravello after my own machinations had brought production there to a halt. It was not too bad of an exile or an imprisonment. But I will not deny that I was bored and sleeping my way through all of the strapping young men working at the vinyard only gets rid of so many hours in the day.”
She sniffed and then leant in towards me conspiratorially. “Incidentally, you should feel free to publish everything that I am telling you. It will annoy my sister no end and the other members of the court will be positively scandalised.”
“Were there actually any strapping young men?” I wondered.
She laughed. “No.” She said. “Once I got there I found that I had achieved everything that I wanted while at the same time having none of it. I was not ruler of Toussaint, but it had been made clear to me that I did not deserve to rule Toussaint. My sister had ordered me forgiven so my imprisonment was one of protection rather than punishment. More than one young knight tried to court me as being some kind of Princess in exile but I found them all, to a man, insipid and slimy. You know the kind of thing Madame La Comtesse? The kind of man that makes you want to bathe after spending more than a minute in their presence.”
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“Ariadne please.” The Higher Vampire said while nodding. “I know exactly the kind of person you mean.”
“So I actually sunk into a rather severe black mood that nothing could lift me out of. The only entertainment I had was acting in ways to scandalise my sister without forcing her to exile me again. I had only just gotten back and I could not bear to be sent away again. The thought actually caused me some pain.
“I would dine with her Grace at least once a week depending on court functions. I thought I was happy but looking back, I was desperately the opposite.”
She sighed at the memory.
“Then the Imperial party came to Toussaint. The, then, Empress Elect insisted on meeting me and your sister took a liking to me.” A brief shadow passed over the company. “So I found myself at the castle more and more until I was banished back to my exile when some of the really important people came to stay. The then Emperor and his entourage and some of the other Kings and Queens. And so I made myself scarce. My sister might have pushed the issue and insisted that I be present at the festivities but I rather suppose that she might have overstepped had she tried it.
“Then the coronation happened and everything connected with it. I was even questioned at one point regarding your sister's dissappearance. Poor Damien came down to question me and I was absolutely furious.” Her face darkened for a moment. “I don't remember being that angry since my initial exile. I was so angry and so furious that he was convinced that I had nothing to do with it. They searched the vinyard though to make sure because they were searching everywhere. Even Corvo Bianco was searched and Lady Yennefer and Lord Geralt are almost canonised in Toussaint.
“But then I heard about the Martial Law and the reformation of the Knights Errant. It was a magical moment for me. Not only did the Empress destroy Craythorne (Freddie's note: The knight that should have been responsible for hunting down and capturing Laughing Jack. The Empress destroyed him as a symbol of the corruption inherent in the Knight Errant system.) for which I was enormously grateful...”
“Why?”
“The Empress was right. He was a symbol of everything wrong with Toussaint knighthood. It was men like him that carried me from the realm, assaulted me, whipped me, starved me and left me to die. And them, upon my redemption Craythorne had gone from being one of those who had demanded my head to turning up to the door of the vinyard to ask for my hand in marriage. He thought I would be a flower to grace his arm, a pet, a trophy and I was so angry that I deliberately seduced one of the knights of his household. He brought half a dozen of them to impress me with how much he would be able to protect me. I regretted it later as the poor fellow got the crap kicked out of him at a tournament.”
She sighed.
“I've been forced to assess my own sense of chastity since then and I am learning to choose my lovers with more care. Speaking of which, while I am waiting for Damien to wake up and smell the beauty. Your Witcher is quite delicious. Is he single?”
“Who are you winding up now?” Kerrass answered with a smile in his voice. “Me? Freddie? Captain De La Tour? or the other men of our escort?”
“Yes.” She answered firmly.
“Then I am sorry to dissappoint, but I am not in the mood to be caught up in your games, Lady.” He said it with a smile so I rather supposed that she could wear him down if she put her mind to the matter.
“A pity.” She said. “I think we could have a lot of fun together you and I.”
“Fun for whom?” Kerrass wondered. I decided that it wasn't my imagination, he was indeed flirting.
Syanna laughed and moved the conversation on.
“So I heard of all that and Damien was very sweet. I had made him promise to tell me what was going on with everything as I had really liked your sister when I met her. So when I heard that they were stripping the knights back and reforming them in a proper image, I essentially stormed the castle, marched into my sister's audience chamber and demanded to be part of the process.”
I laughed at the image. Syanna did not although she smirked a little.
“Annarietta made some suggestions as to things I could do to help, all of them were absurd until I stood there, before half the Duchy court and told them all exactly what needs to happen to improve the knightly orders, off the top of my head. I proposed testing, exercises, weapons, symbolism and I even suggested that we should devote the to the memory of your sister or the memory of the other women that we failed.”
She sighed and I began to wonder if there were actually two Syannas. The laughing, scandalous clown that we had first met and the angry, hurt and highly intelligent woman that all of that mocking laughter and promiscuity hid.
“I remember being astonished when the court cheered my words. I thought she was joking when my sister agreed with every word that I said and proposed that I would command and organise the training and oversight of the knights. To be honest, I still think she was joking about it and I sometimes wonder if she regrets it. But my greatest revenge on the people that wronged me, including my parents, including her, is to define what knighthood means.”
“Why did you do it?” I wondered. “Why do it at all? Why are you still doing it?”
“I love Toussaint.” She said as though it explained everything. She must have seen my confusion. “Don't worry Lord Frederick. I understand that the concept is alien to you. You are a traveller and you long for new horizons and new experiences. I am a huge fan by the way and your works, both academic and popular, are required reading at the Barracks and training houses.”
“Oh good.” I muttered weakly.
“But I love this countryside. I always have. When I was away from it, I longed for it. Homesickness isn't the word for it. I wanted to be back here so badly I could taste it. I was desperate to breathe the air, to feel the earth beneath my feet. I wanted to swim in the river and eat the food. I wanted to cheer at the jousts and laugh at the jesters. I wanted to pretend to know what the artist's talk about and stroke the manhood of Sir Reginald. I yearned for it the same way that a person might yearn for a Lover's touch. It is the reason why I could not commit to Dettlaff the way he wanted and why all my previous lovers left me unsatisfied and them dissappointed. I love this place and there is little room in my heart for anyone, or anything else.
“But it's true. I love the mountains, the rivers, the hills, the castle, the city, the little villages, the vinyards and the ruins. I love the people too. From the lowest commoner.... By the way I love your little diatribes on the improper use of the word “peasant”.” She raised her voice slightly, presumably so the other knights could hear. “Any knight of our order that uses the term peasant is flogged with three strokes of the cane. No matter how old.”
I giggled at that.
“But from the lowest member of our society to the highest. Yes, even those arrogant, entitled rich little pricks that think they are better than the people that produce the wine that has made them rich. I love them all and they deserve better than how they are, or were, served by the Knight's Errant.
“And although there are many victims of the greed and arrogance of the order to date. I have seen them at their worst, been a victim of their worst, while also seeing them at their best and I can tell the difference between the two. So I am determined to make this new breed of knights something that Toussaint can be proud of. So that what happened to me, and what happened to your sister, will never happen again.”
“The best being Captain De La Tour.” I guessed.
“You see Lord Frederick? You are getting to know me.” She laughed happily. “I can just tell that you and I are going to be the best of friends.”
“I remain to be convinced.” I commented.
“I shall ignore that. Damien is the very best knight that Toussaint has produced while also being against everything that the previous Knight's Errant stood for. Did you know that he's common born?”
“I did not.”
“Well he is. His story is straight out of the romances of those earliest knights. He was common born to a miller and a farmer's daughter. There was a monster, the story says it was a giant of some kind although Damien insists it was merely a particularly large knight.”
She raised her voice again.
“Humility and Honesty.” She called before lowering her voice to conversational pitch again.
“He took up his sling-shot and a stone and stalked the monster through the vines and came across the villain. In a titanic struggle, Damien slew the wretch with one blow.”
She leant closer to me, a little closer than I was entirely comfortable. “You should get Damien to tell you the story. He claims to have waited until the man was asleep before clubbing his brains out with a rock.”
She grinned.
“But then he found that that monster led to another, which led to another which led to another. In the end, he commanded a group of people that were almost like a group of anti-bandits. There were about a dozen of them roving the countryside, none of them older than sixteen, but where other bandits mugged, held up, poached, raped and murdered. Damien's devils escorted travellers, hunted bandits and monsters, rescued Kittens out of trees, stood aside for ladies and escorted young women home safely.
“In the end they rescued someone important and Damien was knighted while his boys were given the posts in the town guard. I would tell you the whole story but Damien will be so cross with me that he didn't get to tell you himself. It's quite fun to do it. He get's all red faced and embarrassed. Try and do it when I'm around will you.”
She laughed again. Something that she seemed to do often. But I also noticed that she looked around as she did so, never taking anything for granted.
“But he rose through the ranks and now protects the body of the Duchess herself.”
“Hang on though, shouldn't he have been protecting the Empress and my sister. Shouldn't he have been the one that...”
“He should, but he wasn't. He is just a commoner you see. Even though he is knighted. To the Knights Errant as was, he was still a commoner. They demanded that they have the honour of protecting the palace. Damien was furious. Looking back, that was the first time I started to look at him as something more than my sister's Lap-dog. Or rather, the first time that I realised that I was beginning to be in love with him. I got quite cross with myself at that.
“Here's another piece of Damien trivia for you. He guards the palace, he knows the place better than any other person alive. Upstairs and down. But he's not allowed to live there because he isn't nobly born. He rents a small chamber above an artists shop down towards the docks near one of the guard houses.
“He is modest, he regularly gives away a significant portion of his income on the grounds that he doesn't need it. He eats what he has to. His word is his bond and he lives and dies according to his Duty to the Duchess and to Toussaint as a whole.”
“You really do love him.” Ariadne said suddenly.
“Do I?” Syanna chuckled. “How do you know? But he is the only man who might understand that he will always come second after Toussaint in my heart. Because I would always come second after Toussaint in his heart.”
“Does he know that you feel this way and that this is your intention for him?” Ariadne wondered.
“I would be stunned if he did not.” Syanna admitted. “After all, I keep telling people. I think he's embarrassed by it and thinks that he is too far beneath me while not realising that I don't care about such things. So it will take a confession of affection from one to the other before anything can be done. So I watch, I wait and I needle him and get under his skin.”
She laughed again.
“So anyway, you have to tell me the story about how you got him to love you.” She turned back to Ariadne. “Maybe you can give me some pointers.”
This might read like a long conversation. And that is because it was a long conversation. Some of you, people that either live in Toussaint or have visited Toussaint will know where the transport portal location is in the gardens and therefore know how far it is from that little folly to the palace itself. Those of you for whom this is the case will be wondering exactly why it took so long to get to the palace from that location given the length of the conversation that we had with Lady Sylvia Anna.
There are a number of smaller reasons. We had an armed escort of twenty knights in full plate harness. These people were not fucking around when it came to the safety and security of our party. What that means is that, through the twisting and turning mazes of the Beaclair gardens, Protection would sometimes mean that we had to stop and wait as some knights caught up and that some knights went ahead. There were also a couple of occasions where we had to stop to acknowledge people bowing when they saw us. It seems that when you travel through Beauclair, if you have an escort then that must mean that you are important. And if the party is important, then it often pays to bow anyway in case gauntlets get thrown around and duels start to happen.
I wanted to make jokes about it, but the place was already in my system and I found myself automatically bowing in return rather than wondering if someone somewhere was making a point.
That was certainly one reason. But the real reason why we went so slow was because I couldn't cope with it.
Again, those people that know Beauclair will be able to tell you that it is mostly just a city on a hill. The palace on the top of that hill that then slopes down towards the harbour at the bottom. It is one of those truths of travelling that a group of travelling people go as fast as the slowest person in the group. And I was the slowest person in the group.
I was horrified by how weak I felt. The air was cold but I was fairly warm. Kerrass, the ever present nursemaid, had ensured that I dressed warmly for travel through the gate and the additional cloak was a big help. But I couldn't help but notice that Mark, the man literally dying due to a weakened heart and increasing fluid in his lungs, didn't need an additional cloak and he was bundled up less than I was.
But the cold air, hurt as it went down my throat and into my lungs which conspired to rob me of my breath. Lady Syanna (I'm sorry Syanna but sometimes I just can't help myself with the courtesies) covered me well. Occasionally stopping to point out views for us all to see. The beauty of the torches twinkling in the frozen air. The skaters on the ice and the stars twinking in the sky. She insisted, on more than one occasion that we stop to take in this sight or that sight. When I called her on it she pretended that she was giving her sister, the Duchess, ample time to prepare for our arrival, but I could not help but notice that every time that we stopped, I was beginning to get out of breath and my coughing and sneezing had become more pronounced.
Also, to be fair, Toussaint really was beautiful.
The river had frozen over and, as I say, we could see people dancing on the ice. Dancing in the same way that people dance in ball rooms only with long, flowing movements that caught the eye. I know about ice-skating. Skelligans engage in races on the ice as well as competing in jumping and clearing obstacles. But there was none of that contest here. They just danced for the sheer joy of it.
There was a fire landtern festival going on as well. For those people that don't know what that is, a fire lantern is a paper construct with a flame housed inside of it. If you let them go, they then float away due, according to people wiser than I am on the subject, the warm air inside the paper box. I always thought the flying ones were a bit dangerous as the inevitable result is that the paper catches fire and then the lantern plummets to the ground where hot wire and ash is then left to, potentially, start fires.
It would seem that the organisers of this thing agreed as there was artistry to these lanterns that meant that they did not fly away. But instead I saw swirling, moving shapes. Birds, fish, Dragons who's mouths opened to show the flame before they snapped closed without any visible artifice from where I was standing. I asked Lady Syanna as to whether or not there was any kind of festival going on. She laughed, shrugged and told me that folk needed something to do over the winter nights.
I found myself trying to fight it off. To resist the spell and the pull of Toussaint. It is so easy to feel the tug of that romantic atmosphere and fairy tale sensibilities. The last time I wrote about it, I described it as being like looking at an old painting, finding that you are looking for the cracks in the oils and trying to find the parts where the artist had hidden substandard work behind clever brush-strokes. And then you don't find any.
This time I found it more like... I felt as though I needed to resist it, but I knew that I didn't have the strength to do that for long. I also knew that, if I could just let go and indulge in all the madness, even for a little while, then I would feel better for it. It would be like a holiday where I could go to a place where Good triumphs over evil. Where villains wear dull, rusty armour and carry wicked, jagged swords. Where Good guys wear shining armour and wield swords that shine in the sunlight. Where members of both sexes are beautiful, kind, generous and gentle.
So I also found that I wanted to jump into that feeling with both feet in the same way that you would jump into a warm bath on a cold day, or into a warm bed with a welcoming set of arms to keep you warm. But something in me was resisting it. I still found myself wanting to grab people like Lady Syanna by the shoulders and shake them while demanding to know whether or not they actually believed the stuff that they were telling me.
We walked out of the gardens and people started to point out small landmarks to me. Ariadne caught my attention and pointed out the bench that we had used when I had finally proposed to her. Syanna grinned and told me that it was now a favourite spot for lovers. It is considered quite a badge of honour for people to go there and become betrothed while sitting on that bench. As well as other things that are done there on warmer nights in the cover of darkness.
Needless to say I was mortified, while Ariadne found it endearing.
We passed the Peyrac-Peyran memorial greenhouse. For which our guide could not conceal her disdain and scorn. As we did so we came up and into the grounds of the palace itself.
Everywhere there was light. Flame filled lanterns or just bowls of fire where, we saw it happen, as well as oil and wood, there were scented herbs thrown onto the flames in vast quantities that sent out a flavoured scent that was also smokeless. I dreaded to think of the insane cost of the plants tat were produced to produce a smokeless scented flame. Just for the purposes of making the air smell good.
What did it smell like? A strange mix of the smell that you get out of the spices that you put into a good mulled wine or cider, along with an after scent of pumpkin. I don't know why or how that got to be so important. But the smell was everywhere.
The citizens were all dressed in what can now, in my head, only be described as “Toussaint Winter fashion.” Everywhere else on the continent, if you see people dressed for winter, you would see that folk dress for utility rather than for attractiveness. Even the most beautiful of people can look ugly as they frantically wrap themselves in fur, hides and all kinds of other things in an effort to stay warm. But not in Toussaint. Fur lined dresses, colour co-ordinated gloves and scarves with form-fitting coats on the ladies which emphasised the feminine shape in the same way that corsetry does. The men were no better either with their own coats and leggings cut to show off trim and athletic figures where possible and they walked, arm in arm, breath misting in the cold air as they warmed their hands next to the fire.
Emma described it best. It was a Winter Wonderland.
Beauclair palace is made up of several large balconies with various buildings and wings that come off them. The Duchess and the ruling families before them like to rule as they look out over their lands. The large, interconnected nature of the place reminded me a little bit of Ariadne's manor house. Given that Beuclair palace was built on an Elven ruin and is, by far, the best preserved example of Elven Architecture that can be found on the continent, to my knowledge at least. I was left wondering if part of the inspiration for Ariadne's dwelling was Elven in nature.
When I asked her alter, she confessed that, if there was any influence taken from Elven buildings, then it wasn't intentional. So make of that what you will.
We came into the main courtyard to find Damien De La Tour waiting for us. “The Duchess is waiting for us.” He said carefully into Lady Syanna's ear which she nodded.
“Not even out of breath Damien?” Lady Syanna teased quietly. The reason for the quiet were the ranks of men waiting for us. The black armoured men of the Nilfgaardian elite that had come to Toussaint to take over guardianship of the Duchy from the Knight's Errant who were stood in ranks in the courtyard.
“What can I say?” Captain De La Tour commented. “You took your sweet time. The Duchess was inconvenienced.”
“And of course, my sister's inconvenience is your primary concern.”
“Your sister is the Duchess and I am the Captain of her guard.” De La Tour responded with some asperity. “The Duchess is Toussaint and if she is inconvenienced then the Duchy is inconvenienced.”
“Actually,” I began, “The fault was m....”
“The fault was mine.” Lady Syanna snapped. “Our, honoured guests were admiring the sights and sounds of Toussaint and as they were our honoured guests I did not want to march them around under escort as though they were common prisoners. Guests, Captain. Or do you not understand the difference between guests and criminals?”
Captain De La Tour grimaced. “Of course, if our guests want to enjoy the sights and sounds of Toussaint, then who am I to argue.”
“Exactly.” Lady Syanna was not done with him yet. “Who are you to argue?”
“However,” De La Tour rumbled. “You would have done well to send word of the delay ahead. And then we would not have been concerned for your wherabouts.”
“Pfft.” Syanna's humour was back. “I thought that that was what you had done in running up here Captain. Did you fail in your duty in some way? I would have thought it obvious that....”
Any further argument was cut off by the shouted order to Salute came from the Nilfgaardians. “ARFOU PRESENNOL!” Someone shouted and anything else that Syanna, or Captain De La Tour might have said was drowned out by the sound of a couple of hundred men slapping gaunteted hands against breat-plates.
Captain De La Tour glared at Syanna before stalking off towards the keep in disgust.
“Six months.” Lady Syanna told us a little smugly, although I wondered if she knew that her voice shook with a surpressed emotion as she said it. “Six months and that man will be tearing my clothes off.”
One of the men from the end of the Nilfgaardian ranks came off and stood before our party and saluted smartly.
“Cardinal Mark von Coulthard Baron von Coulthard, Madame La Comtesse Ariadne de Angral, Lord Frederick von Coulthard and I believe that you know Lady Emma and Lady Laurelen.”
“Of course.” The man began.
“In return, allow me to present The Right honourable Marquis Thierry Duberton of Liddertal. Colonel of the Second Batallion, Fourth Regiment of the Imperial Alba Division.” Lady Syanna raised her voice cutting over the man who was smiling, a little ruefully. I guessed that this was not the first time he had been caught out by the trials of social etiquette when it comes to matters of protocol. Especially in Toussaint where such things are a way of life.
Not that they are alone in such matters. Temerians love this kind of thing and here is an insight that only a historian can give you. Temerians love it, you will know that Foltest had a reputation for hating it and built his reputation as a man of action and a warrior on the back of his ignoring protocol. But did you know that he actively encouraged these matters himself? Meaning that he would not have had anything to speak out against in order to build said reputationif he had just got on with the way the world works? Food for thought.
The Colonol bowed with a little military bob from the waist, hands clasped behind his back. “Your Servant ladies. Gentlemen.” He said in his rather heavily accented Northern speech. “And might I remind the Lady Sylvia Anna that we prefer to be called the Black Shields?”
“You might,” she responded with a smile of mischief. “But you know what my memory is like.”
“Yes.” The Colonel said in the tones of a man that knows that he has already lost the fight. “Yes I do.”
“How are you Colonel?” Emma asked stepping forward. It was not lost on me that the Colonel properly accepted her hand and mimed a kiss of the knuckle rather than actively pressing his lips to the hand.
“I am well Madam. Indeed, I am looking forward to handing over my authority to Knight Commander,” He emphasised the title, “Sylvia Anna and Captain De La Tour. Even if it will mean that we will be forced to leave this most beautiful of Duchy's. My men and I have grown quite attached to it.”
“Yes.” Laurelen commented dryly. “I bet they have.”
“But have no fear.” The Colonel continued. “We shall soon have them out of this land of excellent wine and grateful citizens when the passes clear so that we can have them back in the mud and the filth as soon as possible.”
“And idea where you will be sent yet?” Emma asked as we started to move towards the great hall.
“Not yet Madam. But we will go where the Emperess' whim takes us.” He turned towards the rest of us. “I would invite you to inspect my men but the Duchess is rather insistent that you get out of the cold as I understand one of your party is not in the best of health. I shall look forward to getting to know you all a little better. But before I return to my duties. Has there been any news. I am starved of information around here.”
“News about what?” Mark wondered.
“Lady Francesca?” The Colonel answered innocently.
There was no way that our little party of people could avoid a kind of ripple effect. Nor was there any way that we could avoid letting this man, and Lady Syanna know that there was indeed something going on.
“There is news.” Mark said carefully after looking at us all, me in particular. “However we are instructed to discuss the matter with the Duchess only, should she require it. Then she may choose to take the matter up with whom she sees fit. But secrecy is vital at this stage.”
“I understand.” The Colonel visibly dismissed the information from his mind. I am told that this is an essential skill in certain branches of the military. To simply forget an activity or an order once that order has been given and carried out.
“Please do not hesitate to call on me at any time should you require anything.”
He literally clicked his heels together and marched off.
“Seems like a smart young man.” Mark commented.
“He is.” Syanna commented. “Already married though. Childhood sweetheart apparently and they are disgustingly sweet together. She joined him here in the summer and is making noises about being allowed to retire here in some way. The Colonel has responded that such a matter would be impossible... duty to family.... blah blah blah. But I do suspect some kind of holiday dwelling is in the future so that they could come and visit.”
“Is that a problem?” Emma wondered and I glanced sharply at her. Emma's tone was serious but I have been on the receiving end of Emma's teasing too often in the past to not notice when it is being deployed.
“On the surface it is not.” Sylvia Anna responded earnestly. “But Toussaint has enough of a problem with tourists, immigrants as well might become a problem. One Colonel and his wife coming to stay occasionally is all well and good. But several, turns into a flood.”
“Your fault for making the place so lovely.” Laurelen joined in on the teasing. But she is not as subtle as Emma and Syanna saw what was happening
“I suppose it wouldn't be so bad. But Lady Duberton is so blonde, so pretty and soooooo innocent that it is quite infuriating. I honestly want to get her drunk to see if it's all a facade or if she really is that innocent but she has resisted all efforts to allow such a thing to take place.”
Emma and Laurelen exchanged glances and grinned at each other behind Syanna's back.
“But do not think you have distracted me.” Syanna was suddenly serious, and for the first real time I had an inkling of Knight Commander Syanna in all of her strength. “I shall wring Annarietta's kneck if she tries to keep that information from me.”
It seemed prudent to not discuss the matter any further.
We entered the palace and it seemed that a lot of the Servants were lining the hallways to bow us into the Duchess' presence which lent a certain sense of anticipation to the matter. Entering Beauclair palace was an exercise in Deja Vu. But also a disjoined one as the place was almost unrecognisable from how it was previously. There was a new sense of austerity about the place. The, just this side of the balance between tasteful display of wealth and gaudiness was gone. The Gold had been stripped from the walls, the decorations had been removed and the ornaments had been taken off somewhere.
What remained was still those elements of military use. The suits of armour and displays of weaons and the like. But there was also many different pieces of simple artwork. Wreathes and displays of flowers. There were paintings and tapestries all over the place but the topic of these pieces were different from how they had been. Where before they had shown vast, ridiculously overblown scenes of military and heroic feats. Naked men with absurd musculatures, rescuing mostly naked and overly buxom women from exaggerated monsters and villains had been removed.
To be replaced by landscape views of Toussaint. Of men and women going about their daily toils. There were still portraits of the Ducal family of course and it might have been my imagination, but it seemed that old portraits with fancy dresses and armour had been replaced with more subdued portraits of people in working outfits. Still, obviously, the Lords and Ladies of the place. But there was less jewellery on display. The armour was less ostentatious and the poses were more naturalistic. I found that I approved and noted my preference away for future use and the next time I have to discuss art with various people.
We were shown into the throne room that was still guarded by black-armoured Nilfgaardians. They saluted us as we passed and the doors opened.
It was that Throne-room that had changed the most since I had last seen it. Not the room itself although that had changed certainly, along with the rest of the building. It was more the people that were in there.
Lets talk about the Men first because I thought that there was less going on there. Previously, when I had seen the men at Court in Toussaint, you could tell who they were and what they were doing there by the style of their dress. Knights were all armoured as though they could be called on to fight at a moments notice.
Which was true because that's how Toussaint society works. But previously they would all be wearing Golden armour with scrollwork, ornamentation and jewells embedded in the armour. Now, the armour was still there, but it was plain, metal sheen. It almost looked as though it had become trendy to have the odd dent or piece of scuffed metal on display. Massive, jewelled swords in jewelled, lacquered scabbards had been replaced by plain, wooden or leather scabbards along with leather, or wire wrapped hilts and plain, un-ornamented pommels. The most that could be said about the decoration was when the persons own heraldry was represented in the weapon. But that was the extent of the decoration of either armour or weapons. That alone made them appear, more dangerous somehow. Less foppish and overeager. Less arrogant and full of themselves.
Those changes were also reflected in those men who were not warriors by profession. The merchants and the Vinyard owners. Previously you could tell who they were as they all carried aroun the tools of their craft. I have since found out why and it was so that they could be excused for not being a knight. If a knight was the very peak of Toussaint society, any man who could not fulfill the purpose of a knight had a tendency to be looked down on. So it had become necessary to show how else you served Toussaint about your person. So Scribes carried inkwells, magnifying lenses, quills, books and parchment carried openly should anyone need anything written.
Artists would carry the tools of their art. Sculptors would carry their hammer and chisels, artists, their brushes and paints. The idea being that, as the knight could then leap into action at a moment's notice, so too could the artist. Even despite the lack of block of marble, canvass or easel.
Syanna, who explained all of this to me, even told me that she had once seen an artist deliberately splashing their most expensive clothing with paint stains and she knew for a fact that the man was not alone. I remember laughing but she was absolutely serious.
Vinyard owners carried around the tools of a Sommelier. A wine tasting cup, a spit jar, a journal of wine testing as well as, nearly always, a journal saying what crops are being produced.
But always there was a display of wealth. So the wine tasting cup of the Sommelier was gold rimmed, jewel encrusted and heavily ornamented.
The artist's tools would be ostentatious and massively impractical with the genuine set at home in the workshop. The brush made from ostritch feathers and the like when perfectly good fox fur would suffice.
Even now I can imagine being chased down the street by angry artists.
But now, those same people had stripped back what they were doing. Like the armoured knights, the men were wearing to court, the tools of their profession. So the Merchants and the Vinyard owners were the only people wearing particularly wealthy clothing. But the artists were wearing their genuinely dusty or paint spattered aprons. The scripes were wearing their smocks to proevent their clothes from being spattered with ink or blotting sand.
There was still wealth on display but the ornamentation had gone. Jewellery was subdued and when it was there, it always had a purpose. There was little to no jewellery for just jewellery's sake in the men. Signet wrings were worn, badges of office, guild symbols and holy signs. All of them looked as though they could be called into action in order to perform whatever tasks that they were required to do within their profession.It created an air of a court full of people ready to spring into action. Rather than a court of people who would first have to go home, climb out of their court attire, bathe, put on their proper working clothes and maybe get a good nights sleep before hand.
I liked it. There was no-one here who's job was to just be a courtier or a politician. Everyone had a job or a task that they performed for the betterment of the Duchy. It was a court on the edge of action. Ready and eager to serve.
And that was the men. The women were led by the Duchess in this regard.
Regular readers will know that after My sister's dissappearance and the complicity and failure of the duties of the Knight's Errant were brought to light, the Duchess Anna Henrietta of Toussaint took it hard. Very hard. Not without reason but there is no getting past the fact that she was devestated at what had transpired. She branded herself an Oathbreaker and swore powerful oaths to everyone that would listen, including the Empress and our family, that she would take steps to correct this.
Being Toussaint-y down to her core, this devestation was reflected on her face, in the way that she did her hair, her makeup, her lack of jewellery and the new way that she dressed. When she first emerged, her hair was hung loose and... not unkempt but certainly cared for at a bare minimum. At the time it had been kept back from her face with a band. She had not worn any cosmetics at all and was free of jewellery. She wore a plain cream dress without ornamentation and I said at the time that, for my taste, she looked better for it.
She has taken this initial shock to it's eventual logical conclusion and has started a fashion.
She, herself was still dressed in a plain, cream dress. It was somewhat wealthier in fabric and design than the one that she had worn back then. But it was obviously an extension of that. It lacked all the fancy beading, stitching and embroidery though. There was none of the Gold thread, gold cloth or jewels sewn into the cloth. There was just the dress itself.
It also lacked the hooping that used to go with a lot of her dresses that caused her to take up more floor space than she actually needed. Instead it had become a flowing dress. It was also cut and weighted a little to swish when she walked. The upper body part of her dress was made out of thicker, sturdier fabric. The Duchess is a beautiful woman whichever way you cut it and she needs very little corsetry to set a anyone's heart to fluttering should they be so inclined. But there did seem to be a certain amount of reinforcement to that particular area to lift and push in order to create a little hint of a cleavage. The dress had long sleeves and although I forget the technical term, the dress was cut to display the very upper part of her chest. Turning back into cloth as soon as the barest swelling of cleavage began but before that swelling settled into two seperate bulges if you know what I mean.
She also wore a pendant on a vairly simple chain which was a Yellow Jewel of some kind. I understand it to be an heirloom of the Ducal household.
There were two symbols of her being the Duchess. The first was that her dress was tied together with a Golden sash around her waist that served, according to Emma's assessment of the fashion, to emphasise the narrowness of the waist and the, then, resulting curve of the hips. The thing that made this Ducal in nature was that she was the only one wearing Gold cloth as the sash. But again, although the cloth was rich and thick, there was no beading and ornamentation on the cloth, or part of the cloth itself.
She also wore a tiara which I took for being the Ducal tiara. And if there was one place where all the decoration had been put it was here. I had seen it before when she had worn it previously for official functions. But then it had seemed in harmony with everything else that she was wearing. But now, being the richest thing that she was wearing, indeed, the richest thing in the room by a considerable margin, that meant that it stood out even more. It caught and drew the eye to an extent that was... surprising. There was a statement there somewhere but I am not going to guess as to what that statement might be. I leave that to wiser heads than mine.
As for cosmetics, I am not very expert in telling you what a lady is wearing in order to emphasise that which, to me, is already beautiful but I could tell that there was a vast reduction in the amount of cosmetics that she had worn compared to the first time I saw her. During the Empress' initial presentation where I had been so badly embarrassed.
As I say, for my money and for my personal tastes, I thought that she looked far better for the more subdued natural look.
But then to me, even though I appreciate it and enjoy it whenever Ariadne makes the effort to get all dressed up in all her finery and with all the cosmetic assistance and emphasising jewellery. To me, she is never more beautiful than when she is wearing one of the simple black dresses that she uses when she is working. Frowning over a book or laughing in spontaneous delight at something that has caught her by surprise.
But the Duchess' choice was reflected in the other women in the courtroom with one exception which was so obviously Colonel Duberton's wife that it was almost funny. Needless to say, it was easy to tell which woman in the room was the Nilfgaardian.
The other women in the room, whether they were with the men or by themselves in the small clusters that were actively more terrifying than I think many women appreciate. Wore dresses styled similarly to the Duchess' style. Plain dresses with flowing skirts, thicker cloth to emphasise upper boddy shape and to conceal corsetry when used. Expression of individuality and personality was allowed to be expressed through the colours of the dresses themselves and the contrasting colours of the sashes that these same women wore. What combination of colours were used, that kind of thing. There was also individuality in the hair styling, within the seeming requirement of it being not overly styled or ornamented. Pony tails, plaits and loose designs were predominantly on display. I kind of got the impression that these women worked hard at making sure that it didn't appear as though they had wroked very hard at their appearance.
There was also some scattered jewellery. Simple ear-rings, simple pendants. All colour co-ordinated of course because.... Toussaint.
As I say, Lady Duberton was obviously the stand out as she was the only woman wearing black. She wore a plain black dress with a red shawl around her shoulders and her hair was covered by a wimple that was reinforced into a box shape by some means. She wore a symbol of the Nilfgaardian sun on a chain around her neck.
As I have said before, despite the fact that they are ruled by an Empress which, by the nature of that, means that women in the Empire are beginning to step to the fore, women in Nilfgaard are taught to be seen and not heard. They stand to the back of things, out of the way and their clothing is not meant to emphasise their femininity in any way. And it would seem that Madame Duberton was wearing a traditional dress in that regard and that dress meant that she felt as though she was behaving traditionally as well.
What that meant was that I didn't really get that much of a sense of her. I saw a pretty round face with high cheeks and blonde bangs of hair falling down from her cap. She was looking down, looking demure and hiding behind a group of others as a Nilfgaardian lady is supposed to and as a result, I didn't really see much else.
As everyone dreads when they have to walk into a courtroom, but is inevitable when it comes to things like this where you can't really avoid it, the door opened and we were introduced. As that happened, the entire room went silent as everyone turned to look at us and we were announced.
At least that part of things hasn't changed in Toussaint. There is still a herald and they will talk about your titles down to the nth degree. And this never fails to be embarrassing in the extreme.
The Duchess had been sat on her throne at the end of the room and rose to receive us. We walked forward and another point was made that I was not the only person that had gone up in the world, or had had their lives changed.
Emma and Luarelen exchanged cheek kisses with the Duchess who squealed a little in delight at having the pair of them back in the Duchy. That took a few moments to get used to. Then the Duchess greeted Ariadne with warmth and friendliness. Then Mark received his curtsy and the court gasped a little as she bowed to kiss his ring of office.
They were not the only one surprised as Mark would later comment “Dammit Freddie, you could have knocked me down with a feather.”
For myself I was deciding that I had been deluding myself if I thought I was going to be entirely well for the visit to Toussaint and I should not have expected so much. I could feel the rhythms of the courtroom about me. I could see that there were hidden gestures and statements and ploys and plays being passed around amongst the men and women there. I could see that and hear it.
But I could not have told you what any of it meant. It was like being asleep, knowing that you're asleep and being able to see wakefulness there, just out of reach but you can't quite reach it. Nor do you entirely want to either.
Then it was my turn and I bowed over the Duchess' offered hand with what grace I could manage. “Your servant Your Grace.” I told her as I straightened to look in her eyes.
Of course the Duchess is beautiful. Of course she is. Proffessor Dandelion is known to state that in a world where every woman is beautiful for their own reason, Duchess Anna Henrietta was the “classic” of beauties. And it is true, when people describe beauty, they might as well be describing the Duchess of Toussaint. I find her beauty a little cold and remote. Untouchable as though it is behind a sheet of glass to be observed and not touched. That might be societal conditioning talking but... There we go.
“It is we who are your servant, Lord Frederick.” She said clearly. Another statement there. The royal we or was she speaking for the people in the courtroom or the people of Toussaint. Who was that meant for? Me, herself, the people of Toussaint, I am sure that if I had been more on top of my game then I would be able to tell you. But as it was, I was in the dark. “I understand that you are not entirely well.”
“I am fine Your Grace.” I responded carefully.
“If I may Your Grace.” Kerrass, the Ever present nurse-maid, “please forgive me for interrupting. But Lord Frederick has taken grievous injury over the last year and has not taken proper times to recover from those injuries. He is weak at the moment and is lying to himself about his strength, or lack there of.”
Kerrass straightened.The Duchess raised an immaculate eyebrow, a gesture that she shares with Queen Cerys and the Empress herself although I would suggest that The Duchess' eyebrows are more thoroughly groomed than either of the other two women. Then she turned her questioning gaze to Emma who answered.
“Our friend.” Slight emphasis on the term “friend” there. I found myself wondering who that was for. “Our Friend the Witcher is correct. My brother has not yet regained his full strength and has a tendency to over-exert and leave himself exposed to other factors. It cannot be helped that this is all happening in the cold and damp either.”
“I see.” The Duchess turned back to me. Also other than those other women where The Empress' charisma is like a weapon that she wields aggressively and Queen Cerys has the attitude of your older sister or mother. The Duchess' charisma is like that of an angel. You find yourself wanting to please her, calm her and do anything for her. Even when you are angry with her, you do not want to hurt her. And that charisma wraps itself round you like a blanket. To see the Duchess and spend any time in her presence is to love her.
I stress that this is one of those times that I agree with Ariadne. I stress that this wasn't romantic love but it is that feeling of doing everything possible to please this woman.
“I can understand the urge to keep moving Lord Frederick.” She told me levelly. “But it is entirely possible for a man to work himself to death.”
“It is a lesson that I am endeavouring to learn Your Grace.” I told her.
“Good.” The Duchess responded. “Your family is dear to us here in Toussaint and it is our feeling that enough tragedy has befallen your family as it is. You are not alone in that. But that does not lessen our affection.”
“Thank you Your Grace.”
“Lady Emma,” I was being moved on from and stepped back.