Valentin devoted the remaining hours of daylight towards his training. Yvonne had directed him to a small training ground towards the back of the estate that she liked to use to maintain her fighting prowess. It was a small dirt circle no larger than a standard baggare square that had a handful of straw dummies attached to wooden posts.
“I’ll come back for you when it is time to get ready for the meeting,” Yvonne had told him before departing, leaving Valentin to his solitude.
He began by reconnecting to his favor, allowing the familiar crackling sensation of the power to course through him. The power felt more malleable today and he was able to perform his manipulation exercises with little issue.
The introspection provided a welcome distraction for Valentin. Once again, it seemed the course of his future would be charted by strangers and all he could was rely on the nature of those that would deliberate on it. While he had not known her long, Valentin felt warmth to the Matriarch and hoped that she felt the same vague familial bond that he had.
Valentin let the energy dissipate when he opened his eyes. Wooden practice weapons leaned against the wall of the estate. He picked up a long wooden practice spear and balanced it in his hand. It wasn’t quite like the one he had been using under Hrost’s tutelage and he noticed, in his practice strikes, that his pattern was affected by the subtle change in weights. He frowned at the lack of consistency and tried to shift his strike power and angle slightly.
After several attempts, it seemed that he was able to use the practice weapon in the same way that he would his previous tool. Valentin cracked a smile that he had figured it out on his own and began to practice in earnest. He lost himself in the movements of his body and the satisfying sound of the weapon hitting the stuffed combatant.
Sweat dripped from his hair and onto his brow. He wiped the salty irritant from his eyes with his sleeve. The rising temperature of Bláth made his training significantly stuffier within his clothes and he tugged on his collar to allow some fresh air to cool himself.
He relented his assault, satisfied with the day’s effort and returned his borrowed weapon to where he had found it. The heat of the post zenith hours had left him parched. He looked around in hopes that there was a well nearby that he could take a few mouthfuls from without causing any fuss or bring any unneeded attention to him. Unfortunately, there were no clandestine watering holes and he would have to go seek help quenching his thirst.
It was then that he noticed that he was incorrect in his assumption of solitude. Children his age and younger furtively watched from the cover of the buildings and trees that stippled the estate. They ducked behind their hiding spots when Valentin’s gaze passed over them. He allowed them to hide from him without calling them out. After all, he wasn’t any different than they were. Under different circumstances, he would have been among their numbers, watching the new stranger with keen interest.
They were not the only ones watching Valentin practice. Two servants silently watched from a less conspicuous place near a back entrance to the main hall. He recognized one of them as Rella from earlier that day and assumed that Yvonne sent them here to look after him.
He made eye contact with the pair and they bowed with near synchronicity. As he made his way towards them, he was stopped by a question from the children that were no longer hiding.
“Who are you?” A boy near Valentin’s age asked. He had sandy colored hair and stood in front of the other kids who watched with curious glances.
“The Matriarch wishes it to be a secret,” Valentin answered the presumed leader of the group. “She’ll be upset if I told you.”
An unsatisfactory answer; the disappointment was very clearly painted upon the children’s faces. The mystery would continue. Valentin silently was suppressing his smug joy that he got to hold a secret over these other kids.
“How are you so good at fighting?” The boy pressed, trying a different angle to get the information he sought. “You look younger than I am. Why does Grandma allow you to use her personal practice weapons?”
“I’ve been practicing for a while,” Valentin responded. His mouth cracked with a self-satisfactory smile that only widened at the other boy’s displeasure. “I apologize but I can’t answer more questions at the moment.”
He turned away from the children before they could ask him anything else and finished his walk towards the back door. His steps felt a bit lighter with the interaction. It was not often that he was able to tease others as opposed to being on the receiving end of it.
“Young Master Valentin, it is good to see you again,” Rella said, bowing again.
“Hello, Rella,” Valentin greeted in kind. “Are you here to help me get ready?”
“I am pleased that you remembered my name,” the woman replied with a smile. “Yes, Jerome and I have prepared you a bath and fresh clothing before tonight’s meeting.”
Valentin was led around the perimeter of the estate to avoid unnecessary detection and towards a small annex building to the side of the main hall. Inside was a narrow hall flanked by several doorways. Rella turned into the third door on the right and into a spacious room with a wooden tub that could hold ten people in the middle.
“Please doff your clothing so that they may be washed,” Rella instructed.
Valentin froze and stood silently for a moment. He felt a cold sweat accumulate on his fingers and his breathing rose slightly.
“You want me to,” Valentin spoke, not finishing his sentence. The words were trapped in his throat.
“Well, yes. You don’t intend to bathe with your clothes on, do you?” Rella jested before her face grew serious. “Is there something wrong with the room? Apologies if it isn’t up to your standards, we had to use the servant’s quarters to keep you hidden until the evening.”
Valentin tried to calm himself a bit. At the Duvin Estate, it was common that he bathed in the presence of another. Whether it was his uncle or his father or even his sister or mother. He had only bathed by himself since joining Ferron due to their different schedules and a private bath. He had no reason to find issue; the request was entirely innocent and devoid of ulterior motives. They were just doing their jobs on order of the Matriarch.
Valentin knew all of this, and yet, he could not seem to return to a normal state. How had something so routine become so arduous? The surprise turned to annoyance turned to deep inward frustration. He did not wish to expose himself towards these strangers. A newly discovered vulnerability lurked within him and he wished to shield it.
He knew that his hesitation only brought more curiosity towards him. An unknown amount of time had passed awkwardly among the three in the room. Something had to be said, but what?
“Young Master?” Rella asked with a generous amount of concern in her voice. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, all of this is perfectly fine.” Valentin responded, swallowing painfully. “Of course I’ll disrobe.”
Valentin fumbled with the buttons of his clothes. The sweat on his fingers caused the process to take longer than normal. Why was everything so difficult? Would he be unable to do this social task normally again? He grumbled in an exasperated way under his breath. Finally he had managed to loosen all of his clothing.
He shimmied his clothing to the floor and walked out of it, feeling dreadful. The feeling of the air on his newly exposed skin felt nauseating knowing that it was in view of others. He instinctively considered covering up himself with a hand or a cloth but another part of his mind ruthlessly shamed him out of that idea. Such a modest act would only serve to bring more unwanted attention towards the very thing he wished to avoid. Instead, he meekly shrunk his posture to try to be seen less.
“Thank you, Young Master.” Rella bent down to retrieve the clothing. She moved to the doorway, “I will be back in a moment.”
Valentin was left alone with Jerome, who had yet to speak to him. He quickly scurried to the tub and clambered in. The water was pleasantly room temperature and Valentin slid deeper into the tub. He had been too accustomed to freezing in the chilled stream water that flowed from the mountains.
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“Do you need any assistance washing yourself, Young Master?” Jerome spoke cordially with an even voice. He offered Valentin a brick of soap and a washcloth. “Scrub your back perhaps?”
Valentin hesitated for a moment. He detected nothing that revealed a deeper malice. However, it was not as though he trusted his impressions of others anyways.
He relented. “I would appreciate it if you washed my back.”
“With pleasure,” the man responded.
Valentin sat with his face to the water and stared blankly into the rippling liquid. His hands covered his privates and a thin layer of safety returned to him. He felt the wetted cloth lather a strong smelling herbal soap over his body. He focused on the water in front of him to avoid inflicting himself with more worry. The faint and familiar scent of olives perfumed his nose and reminded him of the baths of home. If he closed his eyes, for a moment, he felt like he was in Orsulie and it was Gilles that was tending to him. He would be teasing him as Valentin protested the assistance washing, insisting that he could manage on his own.
“Where are you from, Young Master?” Jerome inquired in an attempt to make small talk.
“Yvonne doesn’t want me to talk about myself until after the meeting this evening,” Valentin responded.
“So you are close enough to the Matriarch that you do not need to use titles?” Jerome asked in surprise. “If you are so important, no wonder you were displeased with using a servant’s bath. Allow me to apologize.”
Valentin winced at his error. He had been calling the head of the Guerros ‘Aunt Yvonne’ and instinctively omitted her relation to avoid spoiling the connection. He had completely neglected to switch over to her title.
“The bath is fine,” Valentin reassured before sighing. “I feel as though I made a gaffe just now. If we could just forget how I refer to the Matriarch, I would be happy.”
Before Jerome could answer, Rella returned into the room. “Ah I see you’re already washing, excellent.” The woman noticed the awkward air in the room and squinted her eyes in suspicion. “What’s going on?”
“The Young Master inadvertently revealed a key piece to his mystery and wishes to commit me to secrecy,” Jerome responded in a very smug way.
“I missed important gossip?” Rella gasped and closed the door behind her. “Let me in on it!”
Valentin slid a little deeper into the bath with his heart in his throat. He had essentially ruined his secret already. This would put everyone that was looking out for him in a difficult position. Stupid. Stupid. His mind began to spiral into a cascade of worst case scenarios that resulted in the deaths of all he knew.
“No can do,” Jerome protested. “This is a secret between men. Isn’t that right, Young Master?”
“A man’s secret?” Rella said with a look of mild displeasure on her face.
Valentin worried that Jerome’s lie implied something distasteful. However, the alternative was much worse. He tried to follow Jerome’s lead to try to divert attention and think of the right thing to say to divert Rella’s attention.
“Yes,” Valentin said with uncertainty. “A man’s secret.”
The discomfort he felt from Rella’s face foolishly made him push forward to provide something reasonable. “I uh, just thought you looked quite pretty, Rella.”
“I see,” Rella answered, her smile suddenly not very convincing. “Well, thank you, Young Master.”
What had he done wrong? That deflection always worked on his sisters and mother. Uncle Gilles taught it to him as a foolproof move. Had he been tricked by his Uncle again? Valentin shook his head and prepared the tirade he would give Gilles.
“Rella,” Jerome spoke up in a soft way to try to assuage the situation. “The Young Master was trying to follow my lead. It wasn’t about that at all. I just really can’t tell you.”
“I thought a compliment would help,” Valentin added apologetically.
“Oh,” Rella’s face went a bit red. “I made things strange with assumptions. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not as though your worries are unfounded, you know,” Jerome conceded. “With so many people summoned tonight...things are bound to become adversarial. You should be sure not to be a cup bearer today.”
Valentin sat with a puzzled expression on his face. He felt like he was sitting in on a conversation he should not be hearing.
“Now you have a secret from us,” Jerome announced with a smile to the boy that had failed to grasp the deeper meaning.
Valentin sped up the rest of his washing because the atmosphere of the room grew unbearably uncomfortable to him. Rella insisted that she was alright but Valentin could see that she wasn’t. Whatever had initially upset her was now mixed in with the embarrassment of misinterpreting the situation and making things awkward. As someone who had been on the verge of fainting at the prospect of disrobing in front of others, Valentin empathized with the woman.
He dragged his pruned body out of the bath and was promptly given a cloth to assist in drying himself off. The pair of servants dressed him in handsome greens and golds that matched Yvonne’s attire. The fresh fabrics felt pleasant on his clean skin.
“Where did you get these clothes?” Valentin inquired while the pair fastened his numerous buttons.
“I believe this belonged to Master Arlo when he was younger,” Rella answered, adjusting the boy’s collar. “There, all done.”
Valentin briefly inspected his clothes. “Do I look like I belong?”
Rella put a hand to her chin and looked at the boy closely. “A peculiar question, but I would say that you look like a member of the Guerros clan.”
Valentin was led out of the building and into the main hall. Uproarious sounds echoed in Valentin’s head. The hall was bursting with people summoned by Yvonne. The benches were overfull with diners and drinkers causing many to stand in the gaps between, leaning over others to join their conversations.
Valentin could spot Yvonne in a gray dress sitting in the center seat at a raised table. On her right sat a man of immense musculature. His shoulder length blond hair was gradually losing its color and turning to white. He sat with a wide, domineering posture that invaded all the space around him. On her left sat a man of sharp angular features that appeared to be aging with grace. The way he wore his clothes and the relaxed, yet somehow, stiffened way that he sat gave off an elegance that the other two could not easily replicate.
Yvonne’s hands were clasped with each man. Valentin had heard of people with multiple spouses from stories and gossip he overheard but he had never seen in it practice. He shook his head, he shouldn’t presume lest he look like a fool later.
Instead of intermingling with the visitors of the hall or approaching his aunt directly, Valentin instead returned into Yvonne’s room. The door closed behind them and did little to muffle the sounds on the other side.
“You are to wait here until Yvonne dismisses all but the required attendants,” Jerome informed. “I will be waiting on the other side of the door.”
Jerome’s departure left Rella and Valentin alone. Without their mediator, the tone of the room quickly soured with the unresolved words. Valentin had to choose between the growing anxiety of once again being the center of a discussion or the pit of bitterness in his stomach for saying the wrong thing to Rella.
What felt like many minutes passed in this strange limbo of discomfort, Valentin was simultaneously begging for Jerome to call and for him to never call out.
“Looks like you’re hiding with me,” Valentin lightly joked in an attempt to lighten the mood and save himself.
Rella’s features softened at the boy’s efforts. “Yes, but we both will have to reveal ourselves soon enough. Try not to be too nervous, the Guerros Clan all seem to possess a keen nose for fear.”
Valentin gulped quietly and attempted to suppress the rising anxiety. Would they hate him immediately? Would they be openly hostile? He tried to rationalize. Ferron wouldn’t have left him here if he was in any real danger. Yvonne wouldn’t allow him to come to harm. Perhaps there will be no reaction at all.
“You don’t need to go with me,” Valentin said, feeling calmer but retaining some apprehension. “You could stay here if you like.”
Rella offered a polite chuckle. “I would take that offer if you were in a position to truly offer it. However, the Matriarch would not allow me to simply hide away because I feel discomfort.” The woman sighed, “If anything, speaking to her about it will only make it worse. Please, forget that it was ever spoken.”
“But Y- the Matriarch has only shown kindness,” Valentin argued. “She seems like a compassionate woman.”
“Forgive me for saying this, but you and I will always be regarded differently. If something happens to you, it has a name. When it happens to me, it is a part of life. What bothers me is simply an expectation of my position. To complain or ask for pardon from it would be seen as being ungrateful towards my benefactors. I’ve already risked much in speaking of this to you at all.”
“I won’t say anything about it,” Valentin asserted.
“If my life remains unchanged, then it will show me that you are trustworthy.”
Valentin grappled with the information he received. He hadn’t known his aunt for long, but he had found Yvonne to be a caring person, albeit, slightly calloused. For two servants trusted in her private quarters to have reservations towards airing grievances was surprising to Valentin.
“Just a bit of advice,” Rella added. “Sometimes, it’s the most cordial that you need to be the most wary of.”
“What do you mean?”
“Trust me,” Rella reiterated, her features sharpening.
While Valentin considered the advice he had received from Rella, Jerome entered the room once again. Most noticeably, relative silence followed the servant into the room. Valentin took a breath in anticipation.
“It’s time,” Jerome confirmed. “Please follow me.”
The raucous joy that permeated the hall had all but subsided by the time Valentin had reentered. Instead, an air of apprehension and annoyance had inherited the hall. The only remaining denizens of the hall were about a dozen handsomely dressed individuals that Valentin presumed to be his aunts and uncles.
Valentin now understood Yvonne’s meaning of what kind of man his grandfather was. No two siblings quite looked alike. An array of skin tones, body shapes, and facial features spread out before the boy. If he did not know that this was a meeting of clan representatives, he would have assumed there was no relation among them. In a way, this alleviated some of his own concerns about whether or not he would look the part of a Guerros clansman.
Those that sat near the doorway to Yvonne’s chambers spared the emerging trio some glances and muffled words covered by open palms. Jerome put himself between Valentin and the observers to obscure the boy further.
“Jerome, Rella,” Yvonne addressed the new arrivals. “You are dismissed.”
“Yes, Matriarch,” the two said in near unison before offering a boy and quickly departing.
As the pair left, Valentin noticed that a few sets of eyes followed one of the servants in particular. A man with an initially disappointed face leaned towards another and spoke some words Valentin could not hear. Wide smiles crossed their faces and a shiver passed through the boy, not knowing what would come to pass for the object of their eyes but fearing it all the same.
Now that only the siblings and Valentin remained, Yvonne cleared her throat to gather attention back towards her and addressed the group.