“Don’t think I won’t report this, you snake,” Jallor spat back.
“I can hardly wait.” He would relish throwing this koopchuk out the door. Saerula would never stand for someone who didn’t grovel before royalty. They reached the sitting room. Though Vahn normally entered without knocking, for the sake of the charade, he knocked.
“Who is it?” Saerula called.
“It is your interview for majordomo, milady.” Vahn hoped she wouldn’t guess what he was doing yet.
“Come in.”
Vahn opened the door then stepped inside and announced, “Laban Jallor of Ganluc, candidate for majordomo to the house of the duke and duchess of Latoph.” It was a more than adequate introduction for a servant, especially one not yet hired. The man entered, shot a look of malice at Vahn, then knelt on one knee in front of the duchess.
“Thank you for coming, Lord Jallor,” the duchess crooned. “So nice to have someone from my homelands.”
“I’m honored, your majesty. Might we have a moment alone?” Jallor asked, looking toward Vahn.
Saerula looked back and forth between her husband and her countryman, dumbfounded.
“Go ahead; say whatever you like in front of me,” Vahn offered, maneuvering around to face him. This ought to be priceless.
“Fine,” Jallor said as he turned back to the duchess. “I asked this lad to announce my membership in the Royal Order of the Suns, my position as Esteemed Bearer of the Sacred Chalice, my twice winning High Diamond Servant status, and my family’s heritage as servants to several royal houses in Ganluc over the last 50 years. He refused to honor my request.”
Saerula glanced at Vahn. He couldn’t suppress a wicked smile. To his surprise, she frowned at him, then looked back at Jallor. “Lord Jallor, this ‘lad’ is my husband, Duke Vahn.”
Jallor froze, his eyes suddenly large as saucers. Vahn relished the moment, smiling like a giddy child. Jallor bowed his head. “Forgive me, your majesty. I didn’t realize.”
“I should hope you would show common courtesy to everyone, not just royalty, lad.”
Jallor only nodded; his face grew redder by the moment.
“Vahn,” Saerula said, “you can hardly blame him for not giving you your due if you didn’t make yourself known.”
Vahn threw his hands up in the air. “Saerula! Wasn’t it you who said we didn’t have to take any sort of disrespect? This man is ten times more flagrant than any of my slaves have ever thought of being. Yet you defend the stranger rather than demand I throw him out?”
“Vahn,” she said calmly, “I believe we were discussing Itzi slaves before, not an Elva chamberlain with excellent breeding and multiple honors. I want to give him a chance. He already apologized. What more do you want?”
“What more do I want? I want you to listen when I say he is unfit for the house. He actually thought my slaves were bowing to him. Let me throw him out on his arrogant hind end.”
“Well, if he were hired, it would be proper for the slaves to show him respect, would it not? He would be head of the household.”
“I cannot believe you do not see this, Saerula. Since you insist on having your own staff, I will let you make your own mistakes. In fact, you can go on without me. I quit. One last matter though—anyone you hire with title over my staff had best know he would not discipline them. No one takes my place where they are concerned. Understood?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but stormed out the door and slammed it behind him.
He stood in the hall, half-expecting the duchess to yell “rape” at any moment. When nothing happened, he stomped to the nearest adjoining room. Furious though he was, he’d still never leave her unprotected. He paced the floor, seething. When did Saerula become so blind? Had she always been so prejudiced and hid it, or did she suddenly become this way? It wasn’t solely a breed problem—timna was switched without cause while this sop was given a chance, even after his arrogance was demonstrated. What happened to the sweet creature he’d married and devoted his heart to?
Vahn swore he would find her heart again and coax it out of the hardened shell. If it meant compromise on the staff, he’d endure. He caught sight of the new maternity gown that had just been delivered. It gave him an idea. Smugly satisfied with himself, he retraced his steps to the sitting room.
Chapter 34
Kee kept close to timna as they navigated labyrinthine streets clogged with fishmongers and farmers. Though she’d formerly been fascinated with people, since the murders, she felt unnerved by them. She wanted to keep her gaze solely on the cobbles and rush through the task so they could return to the safety of Rebono Keep.
However, if the duke sent timna on errands, she might expect to be sent one day too. She should familiarize herself better with Ny so that she’d be of maximum usefulness. She forced herself to pay attention to the street names and shop shingles as they pressed through the crowds.
Cuttlefish Street was mostly residential, as evidenced by the absence of shops and abundance of children zipping around them. Three men sat in the street mending a fishing net. Kee and timna were careful to avoid the net, walking close to the doorways. In so doing, Kee ran into a woman wearing a hooded robe. A magess. Kee gasped and backed away.
“Please forgive me, milady. K—I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No harm done.” The magess pointed to timna while snapping her fingers. “You’re part of Duke Vahn’s house, right?”
timna bowed. “Yes, milady.”
“But you...” she said to Kee as she looked up and down her form, nodding like she recognized her, but her brow furrowed with puzzlement.
“Not yet, but I hope to be,” Kee said.
“Yes, of course. That’s it. So why are you not in uniform? Do I need to speak with the duke? You belong with him.”
Kee’s eyes widened. Could this be the sign she’d prayed for? “It is I who made a vow to wait until my mourning period ended. Do you speak for the Nymphs to release me?”
The magess laughed. “No, they will speak for themselves.”
“They will?”
“Within a fortnight, you’ll have the answer you seek.”
“Thank you,” Kee said with awe. timna pulled on her hand. Reluctantly, Kee bowed away.
When they were out of hearing distance, timna spoke. “Charlatan. Another minute and she’d have asked you to pay for her phony prophecy.”
“But Kee has been praying for a sign. What if she was here to give it? The mages speak for the Nymphs and the Heavenlies.”
“She was here to pilfer anyone’s pocket she could. She told you nothing you didn’t already know. Can’t you see that?”
Kee sighed and nodded. She didn’t know what to believe, but there was no point to arguing. Nothing had changed.
Chapter 35
“Very well, Laban, you start immediately,” Saerula said to Jallor just as Vahn returned to the sitting room. He kept from growling his displeasure at the news. She knew how he felt and she didn’t even discuss it with him before hiring. Of course, he had declared he quit, so he would have to swallow any objections for now.
“Made a decision already, have we?” Vahn said. “Then I’m just in time. Saerula, how about The Scarlet Dryad for supper tonight? You haven’t been out in weeks. Wouldn’t it be nice to get out and see some friends, laugh a little, hear some music?”
Saerula smiled. “That would be lovely, Vahn, thank you.” She turned to Jallor. “I hope you can find something suitable to wear, Laban. I’d like you to accompany us.”
Vahn feigned enthusiasm. May as well make the best of the situation until Saerula saw reason and threw him out herself. “Splendid. I’ll let timna know when she returns from her errand. How about Lady Keedrina joining us?”
Saerula frowned. “Vahn, we’ll have Laban. We don’t need timna. Besides, I thought you demoted her.”
“She’s not optimess any longer,” Vahn conceded. “But I haven’t given the title to any other. Whom did you have in mind?�
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“I had in mind to go somewhere without slaves for once. Laban is our majordomo and he affords us a level of dignity they don’t.”
Vahn started to protest. No matter how impeccable his credentials, Jallor couldn’t be expected to know all their preferences. He wouldn’t dream of taking a slave fresh from the ITC out in public without fine-tuning first. His ire was doubly provoked at the suggestion that slaves were somehow less prestigious than hired servants. There was no house in Ny that compared with his. Having servants instead of slaves only proved one was rich or soft on discipline.
Just as he opened his mouth to spew objections, he remembered why he planned the outing to begin with. “All right. We’ll leave timna home this time, but if it’s prestige you want, why not bring an entourage?”
“Vahn, let’s not fight about this now. Can’t we just have a nice time?”
“Of course, love.” Vahn relented and kissed her cheek. He was relieved she didn’t bring up Keedrina again. There was no need for her to watch an arrogant butler fumble through his first night in their employ. Saerula would have to learn her own lessons. He just hoped the damage to his house reputation wouldn’t be too great.
Vahn left the sitting room and headed downstairs. Kee and timna had returned with Lord Windrider. The duke took him to his study and gave him the silver cylinder with instructions to take it to the king. He was to use Royal Rebono Road, which had stations where horses could be exchanged. The stations also supplied food and lodging. Vahn gave him a separate scroll authorizing the use of official royal channels. The lieutenant listened attentively, pledged himself to the task, and departed.
Vahn sent timna to gather the house staff to Great Throne Hall, then proceeded there himself. Within minutes, twelve females lined up in front of him, kneeling in Submissive, as was proper whenever he was formally enthroned. Kee slipped to her knees in the rear of the room. Vahn motioned her to a nearby chair. She could watch without being seen.
“Standard Kneel, please,” he said. He continued as they shifted. “There is a new head of the household—a majordomo. He is not a band brother, but a hired servant named Jallor. Normally, you address every commoner as ‘Lord’—and I expect that to continue—but as far as I am concerned, majordomo is the only address a servant is entitled to. If he prefers ‘Jallor’ to ‘majordomo’, that would also be acceptable. While I expect you to educate him on our traditions, if he requests something changed, you are to comply. He has been informed that he is not to touch you. You will resist any advances and decline to submit for discipline. If he tries, I want it reported immediately. Any questions?”
He paused and studied their expressions. They looked mildly surprised at the news and shook their heads silently to his query. “Very pleasing. Now for tonight, Jallor is accompanying the duchess and me to The Scarlet Dryad for supper.” The mild surprise turned to shock. Although he could read it well on their faces, none gave any vocal expression. timna’s eyes evinced more pain than surprise. She had accompanied them on every social excursion since she had become optimess two years ago. Vahn turned his gaze quickly from her. “You may eat and clean up, then take the rest of the evening off.”
“Thank you, Master Vahn,” several replied.
Vahn acknowledged their thanks with a nod. The females bowed their heads as he rose and exited.
When he passed Kee’s chair, she spoke meekly. “Your highness?”
He turned to regard her. “Yes, Lady Keedrina?”
The disguised Itzi took a breath and bowed her head. “If it please your highness, might timna be allowed to help K—me in the guest cottage tonight?”
Vahn smiled. Leave it to Kee to come up with the perfect consolation. “An excellent idea, Lady Keedrina. Would you mind, timna?”
“timna would like that, Master Vahn. Thank you.” Her voice reflected the upturn of her mood.
“I wish you all a good evening,” he said as he made his way out.
“Good evening to you, Master Vahn,” they replied. The slaves dispersed amongst hushed chattering.
Vahn found Jallor dressing his wife in the new gown. Jallor struggled with the many yards of fabric, but Vahn had to admit Saerula showed tremendous patience with him. Maybe letting her select her own servants was not a bad idea if it got her to soften. Vahn changed his shirt and fastened his manteau about his shoulders.
Although he and Jallor could easily have walked, Vahn employed the carriage for Saerula’s sake. Jallor announced them as “the duke and duchess of Ny”. Incredibly, Saerula either failed to notice, or somehow didn’t care. This was one mistake Vahn would not overlook—not in public. While Ny was part of his duchy, it was only the Seat of a large holding that stretched north as far as Fornatz. Only the Great Sea and neighboring kingdoms reigned in his borders on the west, south, and east. The kingdom itself was named after the older, albeit smaller, duchy. Jallor made him sound like some mere mayor.
Vahn cleared his throat and corrected loudly, “The duke and duchess of Latoph.” Jallor neither apologized nor repeated the correction. Vahn shook his head in consternation as he walked to their private alcove. Jallor intercepted Vahn’s normal routine of seating his wife. Saerula soaked up the gesture with obvious relish and purred her thanks. Vahn narrowed his eyes on Jallor, making plans to speak to the duchess in private. No supercilious manservant was going to usurp his rightful place as her Champion, Protector, and Husband.
Vahn wondered whether he was caviling toward Jallor merely because of the less than favorable first impression. Why else didn’t Saerula react? Caviling or not, it grated on his nerves to have the man hover behind him, looking over his shoulder. Since Jallor was free, Vahn couldn’t ask him to kneel on the floor where he could keep an eye on him, yet that was exactly what he wanted. Vahn reverted to ingrained courtly manners to hide his discontent.
Jallor served wine into a small cup for himself rather than taking the ritual taste from their chalices. While possibly well meant, wouldn’t the cunning assassin put poison in the silver chalices that no one else used rather than an entire bottle of wine in a popular tavern? While the poison rituals were mostly for tradition at home, Vahn wouldn’t take chances in public. If Jallor himself hadn’t been sent to poison, then Arx would exploit a weakness the minute it became known. Saerula drank before he could stop her, but he handed his cup back. “Either taste from my chalice or bring me one of the common tankards,” Vahn snapped. Jallor was startled, but dutifully tasted from the silver vessel.
“The peasants are staring, Vahn,” Saerula complained.
“Let them stare. This is a matter of life and death—ours. I would think you’d rather be stared at for correcting a servant than choking on pentahask venom.”
“Couldn’t you have found a quieter, less embarrassing way to deal with Laban?”
Vahn had noticed her use of his familiar name, something usually not done with hired servants one barely knew. He nearly said, “Sure, I could have beat him with a crop instead,” but thought better of it. Why was it becoming so difficult to even sit down to a meal with her? “No, I couldn’t have. Furthermore, from now on, I will bring my well-trained slaves to attend me, whether you choose to have them serve you or not. If anyone asks why the duchess endures poorer service, I will tell them it is your choice.”
Several of the tavern patrons chuckled quietly. Saerula turned from him and sulked through the rest of the meal. Vahn sat back in his throne and sipped wine thoughtfully. Jallor tasted the food they were served, but he chose the samples himself rather than accepting what his employers chose. Vahn pitied the Ganlucan royalty who had been served so poorly over the last 50 years.
The night might have been quite a long stewing session had it not been for the unexpected guest. In the middle of the silent meal, the milieu was interrupted by Marquis Terzak Rebono. One could probably assume by the smell that the straggly lad who announced him was a stable boy. Terzak wore a formal uniform styled as Vahn had seen in portraits of his grandfather, crafted
from gray-trimmed blue wool that made Vahn itch just to look at. Terzak didn’t appear uncomfortable in the tall, starched collar and tight-fitting waistcoat, but Vahn thought the whole ensemble looked too constraining for knights. More than a few eyebrows raised and several patrons glanced back and forth between the duke and the marquis.
Vahn sparked to life. Not what he intended to accomplish for the evening, but nevertheless a welcome alternative to brooding. He stood and extended his hand. “Greetings, fair cousin. What brings you to Ny?”
For a fraction of a second, Terzak’s gray eyes reflected something amiss. Vahn couldn’t decide if it was surprise, irritation, or panic. It was gone too fast to confirm he saw rather than imagined it there. Terzak caught him by the forearm. “Hail the duke of Latoph!” he bellowed as he clapped Vahn on the back with his other hand. “I came to town for some negotiations—working out some business agreements.”
“Ah, what a shame. I was hoping you’d join us for a drink.” Vahn slipped back into his chair.
“Who said I couldn’t? Nothing is so pressing it can’t wait for family. I accept your invitation.” Terzak grabbed the closest stool and seated himself, then dipped his head to the duchess seemingly as an afterthought. “You are positively glowing, Duchess Saerula. You grow more beautiful every time I see you.”
Saerula soaked up the flattery like a sponge. “Why thank you, Terzak. I’d like you to meet our new majordomo, Laban Jallor,” she said, leaning sideways so that Terzak could see Jallor standing behind her. “Laban, this is Marquis Terzak Rebono.”
Jallor bowed deeply to the marquis, barely voicing his soft greeting. “An honor, your majesty.”
Terzak regarded the servant quizzically. Saerula had yet to correct what Jallor had already mistakenly called Vahn. “He is from my homeland and has yet to learn Latophian customs, milord. He was just hired today,” she explained.
The Duke's Handmaid (Book 1 of the Ascendancy Trilogy) Page 15