Jace didn’t know what to say, so made a show of studying the library, really a nice and welcoming place for a guy, then murmured, “Good job.”
“My darling Rhiza didn’t have much of an example on how a strong woman should lead and behave when she was growing up. Her mother is a kind but selfish woman, very vague, constantly misplacing things, and, as I said before, this Residence wasn’t kept up in the manner that it should have been.”
“So Glyssa’s mother reacted to her own mother,” Jace said, as he continued to react to his own.
“That’s right,” T’Licorice said. “And I believe we have done much better with our daughters. I am very proud of Enata and Glyssa.”
“Where’s Glyssa’s MotherDam now?” Jace asked.
“She is living quite happily in Toono Town, the artists’ colony. Rhiza’s father was the hereditary Licorice.”
“Oh.”
“The PublicLibrary was lucky to have a couple of FirstLevel and SecondLevel Librarians to keep faith with the people of Druida City and Celta during my HeartMate’s minority, but she tested for her FirstLevel Librarianship as soon as she became an adult at seventeen, and was confirmed by the testing board then, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I deeply admire Rhiza’s dedication. And she’s my HeartMate. I love her, though I can see her faults when she tries too hard to be perfect.”
“Uh-huh.” So much revelation made Jace uneasy.
“Enata doesn’t have a HeartMate and that hurts her. You wouldn’t know about that,” Fasic ended softly.
Jace flushed but didn’t answer.
“Now, speaking of in-laws’ backgrounds . . .” the man prompted.
“I don’t think—”
“Whether or not you intend to marry into this Family—and I am quite sure my daughter will win you over despite my wife and any other problems that lay between you—I do want to know more about you.”
“Who my family is?” Jace asked with more bitterness in his tone than he’d anticipated.
T’Licorice blinked. “Not that so much as how they might have affected you . . . for instance, why you might react more negatively toward my wife than many.”
Jace remained silent.
“Or I could hire Garrett Primross to check into your background. He would probably speak with the Elecampanes first.”
“And you know I’ve been having trouble at the camp.”
T’Licorice shrugged a shoulder. “I know you’re an honorable man. The Lady and Lord wouldn’t give my daughter a HeartMate who didn’t share that trait. Whatever happened or happens at the encampment will not affect my opinion of you.”
“I have no Family.”
Sighing, T’Licorice said, “That is an all too unfortunate occurrence here on our beloved world.” He reached out, offered his arm like one man to another of his own rank. “Think about this, Jace Bayrum with no living relatives. You can have a Family. A Family who will admire and respect you. A Family of name and status that will stand by you. Always.”
Jace took his arm, got the clasp over with as soon as possible. “Sounds too good to be true.”
“You don’t trust easily, do you? Well, we can work on that.” T’Licorice smiled as if liking a challenge. “What you might not see is that my wife is fully aware that her brusque manner can make people wary of her, but behind that shell of professional and personal competence, she is tender and easily hurt.”
“Ah.” Jace fought not to squirm. “I do not care to be ordered around.”
Another smile flashed from the lord. “Who does? Just stand your ground.” He winked. “Or slide out of her request, or ignore it. All three options will work. Perhaps.”
“Uh-huh. I think you’d find it easier than I.”
“Because she loves me. And despite what you might have surmised or thought, she loves our daughters very much. She’s like all parents.”
“Most parents,” Jace replied before he thought. The quiet conversation, the man’s easy manner had reduced his guard.
“Ah.”
Again quiet graced the room. Fasic simply looked at him with compassion in his eyes. “Your mother?”
Jace hesitated, but the serenity of the man drew words from him. “She killed my father. Drained him of energy and Flair to save her life and walked away from us.”
T’Licorice’s eyes fired, his face set in lines that promised retribution. He leaned forward. “Where is this female?”
“Dead.”
“But not before she sorely hurt you.” The man scanned Jace. “I understand trusting will be difficult.”
The door simply opened and Glyssa stood there. “Mama wants to speak with you,” she said to her father. All three of them knew it was a lie.
Jace said, “If you’ll excuse me, I am weary.” He stood, letting his tiredness show, though he was close to lying also. He’d gotten his second wind.
Fasic rose and stared at him. “If you insist.”
Glyssa took her father’s arm. “I do.”
Inclining his head to Jace, Fasic said, “Sometimes it’s best not to push, to let the bird come to your hand.” His full smile was endearing. “And I hope your BirdFam is enjoying himself.”
“I’m sure he is. I left a window open,” Jace said. “He can come and go as he pleases.”
“And I hope you feel you can do the same,” Fasic said. Glyssa smiled at Jace, and he felt the warmth of it heat all the blood in his veins, before she took her father away to another Family gathering Jace didn’t need to attend. Thank the Lady and Lord.
“What do you wish to do, young man?” asked the Residence, voice coming from a speaker Jace couldn’t see. House was probably riddled with them.
Jace jumped, cleared his throat. “Call me Jace.”
“Do you wish to explore my halls and rooms? Go to the PublicLibrary through the tunnel? Wander our grounds? Leave the estate for sociability with other humans?”
“Do you have a workroom for physical tasks?” he asked.
“To use your creative Flair?” The Residence sounded approving.
“Yes.”
“I will give you instructions to the basement workroom.”
A few minutes later, Jace entered that chamber. The workroom had walls of small cubes stuffed with materials and tools, neatly organized and clean . . . but idle. He felt his spirit expand. No one in the Residence used this room, had used this room since . . .
“The former T’Licorice made books,” the Residence said, turning on bespelled lights along the long walls. “My current Family uses their own suites for their creative Flair, but T’Licorice liked this space.”
“It’s great,” Jace said, and it held very few echoes or vibrations of the Licorices. “I am a leatherworker.”
Lights flashed over a table against one of the short walls. “Leathers and tools for such work are here.” The Residence’s voice warmed. “The former T’Licorice, Red Rhiz, occasionally used leather to bind his books, though he preferred cloth.”
Jace crossed to the table, found the finest tools. He swallowed. “I use gold gilding.”
“I know. I have often seen the wallet of yours that Glyssa has.”
Jace blinked. He didn’t recall her mentioning such a thing.
The Residence said, “We have plenty of gilding for you.” A small wooden drawer protruded holding a stack of fine gold sheets. Jace stared, gently took one and laid it on the table. His head swam. No, he wasn’t used to the offhand wealth these people commanded at all. Wetting his lips, he asked, “Do you know what kind of wallets and pursenals the Licorices prefer?”
“Rhiza and Enata like long, thin envelope pursenals. Glyssa always carries your wallet, and Fasic likes a trifold.”
“Thank you. I’ll make such for them.” Something to do with his days rather than exploring Druida. “And you, Residence? Would you like a gilded leather panel somewhere?”
A creak came as if in surprise, then a hum. “You could make a rectangular
panel fifty by seventy-five centimeters in a dark maroon with gilding for me.”
“Sounds good. We can talk about what kind of pattern you prefer later,” Jace said absently as he reached for a piece of leather that was red, nearly black, that should suit D’Licorice.
Sometime later, he heard the door open, and even later after that, the Residence dimmed the lights. “You should retire now.”
Jace nodded. He hadn’t quite come to a stopping place, but stupid to argue with an intelligent House. Stretching the kinks from his muscles, he turned to see Glyssa sitting in a bar chair, watching him. She blushed. “Your work is beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
She slipped from the chair, came and took his hand. “Come, let’s go to bed.”
His work was forgotten, he put nothing away, just walked fast with her out the door.
And made sure that he had sex with her slowly, tenderly, thoroughly.
* * *
Jace had thought he’d gained his balance. Until it was time for the midmorning appointment at the Hawthorns.
As soon as they exited from the glider, the Fams took off to hunt on a FirstFamily estate. For some reason they thought the game would be richer here, though Glyssa had told them she didn’t think the Hawthorn mice and skirls were fatter than anywhere else in Druida.
Camellia D’Hawthorn opened the door with a warm smile.
“I brought the unfinished manuscript of Netra Sunaya Hoku’s story for you to listen to,” Glyssa said.
“Listen to?” Camellia asked. “Now? Yay!” She gestured them in and Jace entered the castlelike residence. The grandhall showed two stories of wooden paneling.
“With goodies,” Glyssa said firmly. As if food and a more casual manner might make Jace less nervous. Didn’t work.
“That’s right, goodies,” Laev said smoothly. He picked up Camellia’s fingers and kissed them as he led them to a hallway off the entrance. “I have been told by a cook that eating food at the right time is important.”
Camellia grinned. “Yes, you’re—and I’m—right about that, though I don’t cook much here.” She rolled her shoulders. “I usually get enough of that at the teashops.”
“Which are doing well?” Glyssa asked.
“Extremely well,” Laev said with a smug smile.
Jace couldn’t help himself. He kept craning his head at the luxury surrounding him, the antiques, even the rich smells . . . and his breathing came faster and shallower. He strove to follow the easy conversation.
“The novelty of me, the owner of the tearooms, becoming a FirstFamily GreatLady hasn’t worn off yet,” Camellia grumbled.
“I think it has,” Laev contradicted.
“But there aren’t many places where Commoners might catch a glimpse of a FirstFamily GreatLady on a daily basis,” Glyssa said.
“I’ve told my staff that I have no influence with my husband in what he might care to invest in, if people approach them to talk to me,” Camellia said.
Laev bent in laughter and his HeartMate cuffed him.
“Great emotions also affect the taste buds. Stop laughing,” Glyssa said.
A housekeeper appeared and opened the door to the small sitting room facing the back gardens that led to the ocean. “The goodies are ready.”
The sun cast black shadows of midmorning, dappling bushes still heavy with summer flowers, and the perfectly cut lawn of a green that epitomized lush abundant growth.
Glyssa took Jace’s hand and drew him to the twoseat and sat next to him. They all nibbled on small cakes and had caff and tea.
Finally, she dug into her bag and pulled out the manuscript pages that she’d recopied earlier.
Jace sat stiffly beside her, waiting in dread. She bumped him with her shoulder. You will be fine.
The Hawthorns leaned together on a sprawling sofa, Camellia encircled by Laev’s arm, against his chest, her bright gaze and easy smile fixed on Jace.
He made sure his fingers didn’t tremble when he took the pages. “It would be better if Raz Elecampane read these.” He could swear his voice was a whole tone higher.
Camellia D’Hawthorn’s stare narrowed and her mouth set. She made to sit up straighter, but her husband kept her close against him. Both formidable people, but T’Hawthorn was in charge of that relationship, Jace thought, and wondered how he managed the feat. It wasn’t just because of his status and wealth.
“I don’t want Raz Elecampane to orate this. I want you, Jace Bayrum. You wrote it, right?” Camellia asked.
“Glyssa—”
“No, you wrote it!” Camellia insisted.
“No.” He was firm. “I told the story—”
“And I transcribed it. We revised it together.” Glyssa’s mouth drooped. “I don’t have the storytelling or writing ability.”
“You can’t cook as well as I do, either,” Camellia said. “Nor multiply silver slivers into vast piles of gilt like Laev. We all have our abilities. Jace, is your primary Flair storytelling?”
“No,” Jace said.
“Maybe,” Glyssa said at the same time.
“I don’t have any large primary Flair,” Jace said. He was beginning to sweat, now wanted to do nothing more than read the damn words and get it over with. This dragging the event out was torture.
“I’m not sure of that,” Glyssa said in a thoughtful tone that caught his attention. “I’ve seen your leather-crafting work. It’s exquisite.”
Heat flowed up Jace’s neck to his face. Man, he hoped he wasn’t turning red! Ruddy. He’d look ruddy, right?
“If your wonderful leatherworking is your creative Flair, your primary Flair should be equally strong and lovely,” Camellia said.
Laev frowned. “I haven’t seen his leatherworking.” He drilled Jace. “Why is that?”
“Maybe because it’s none of your business?” Glyssa put in.
Before Jace’s eyes, the coin purse he’d given to Camellia appeared in her lap. Since she wore a midnight blue gown, the white-dyed leather with the fancy gold tracing showed up just fine.
Exclaiming, Laev touched the tiny pursenal before Camellia snatched it away. “My gift,” she gloated.
“You didn’t bring me a present?” Laev asked, though he didn’t turn his penetrating gaze Jace’s way. The GreatLord still stared at the coin purse.
“He brought my good friends gifts,” Glyssa said.
“Tiana got something, too, and I didn’t?” Laev held out his palm to his HeartMate, obviously asking to see the small work. This whole thing jittered Jace’s nerves.
“You have to be a friend more than a few weeks to be counted as a good friend,” Glyssa said, teasing.
But Laev just waved that aside as he gently rubbed the leather with his thumb, studied the golden pattern of flourishes that Jace had made. Laev opened and closed the coin purse, and when he shot Jace a look, it held irritation. “The metal for the closure is far inferior to your work.”
Jace’s flush had just begun to settle down when those words brought it back. The clasp was the best he could afford at the time, as usual. He sure wasn’t going to say that.
Finally Laev glanced at him again. “I’ll commission you to replace—”
“No!” Camellia said, grabbing the leatherwork away from him and holding it to her breasts. “It’s mine and I want it as it was originally made.”
Laev’s eyes gleamed. He rubbed his hands, looked at Jace. “Perhaps if you and I were to deal—”
“No,” Glyssa and Camellia said together. Glyssa continued, “Laev, you can’t go into business with all of your friends.”
“Why not?” He grinned wickedly. “They should want to go into business with me, I’m the best. What do you say, Bayrum? I could give your work to T’Ash or offer it at the Enlii Art Gallery.” He nodded to Camellia. “You might want to take it to the Enlii and see what Apple says about a show.”
Your mouth is open, Glyssa said through their private bond.
Jace shut it.
One of the glass panels along the wall out toward the lush gardens opened and a cat strolled in. You said you got a gift! I heard you. She bounded across the room and hopped onto the couch next to Camellia, pawed the coin purse from Camellia’s grasp and sniffed loudly.
It is like the present I found at the Salvage Ball and gave to Glyssa, the creature said, and Jace heard her perfectly.
The cat scanned the room, opened her mouth and curled her tongue in that way cats had of using their extra sense, then hopped down from the sofa and trotted over to Jace, sniffed at his boots. He wasn’t sure he liked that. Zem never did that. She jumped up and stretched, putting her claws in the fabric of the twoseat to anchor her as she got close to Jace, sniffed again, and revved a purr.
“Take your claws out of the furniture, Mica,” Glyssa snapped.
He smells very good, too good for you. Mica gave him a wide smile. You will make a present for me?
“Friends of mine for only a few weeks don’t receive gifts from Jace,” Glyssa repeated.
Mica butted her head against his shoulder. He smells of bird, too. FamBird. I met your FamBird, Zem. He is a very interesting Fam.
Camellia sighed. “I’ll commission a piece—”
“Jace has a lot of things going,” Glyssa said. “He’s bought a few shares in the excavation of Lugh’s Spear and he’s helping me with—”
“We haven’t heard from Bayrum,” Laev said. “Want to deal?”
“I’ll consider it,” Jace said, just to stop all this.
The cat crawled onto his thighs and licked under his chin. He winced.
“Come here, Mica,” Camellia said. “Come and sit and think about what you might want Jace to make you.”
With a tiny nip at his chin, the cat left him for her FamWoman and Jace was real glad he had a bird.
The three Hawthorns settled in and Laev nodded at the papyrus sheets Jace held. “And if the story is as good as your leatherwork, we can talk to a playwright or Raz—”
“No. Absolutely not. The story is mine, too. My ancestor’s life. I will decide how to handle it.” Camellia leaned back and crossed her arms until her cat pawed to be petted, then her expression relaxed.
And it was time. Jace began to read.
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