oneman_onevote | (no subject)

Ariette, Luca, and two guards have been despatched under detailed instructions to investigate Lord Grue de Agen's city home - which has the immediate drawback of Havelock and Brix being left with no immediate action to take themselves.

Havelock had resumed his lesson very briefly in calm, measured tones that left the apprentices frozen in silent uncertainty, until he dismissed them with a sadistic quantity of reading to do on top of their delayed presentations.

After that, Gentian seemed the logical place to return.

The place is still in something of a flurry, quiet though its members habitually are, and matters are not improved by a tall black-clad Mandrake stalking his way through the corridors with Brix nó Balm de Marsilikos beside him - surely she would have left by now, even as a concerned patron? - and stopping members of the House seemingly at random as they go.

It's only a matter of time before they find someone who remembers Matthieu's encounter with Grue de Agen.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Brix's frown deepens.

"Yes -- someplace private would be best, I think." She touches Claire's shoulder, all comfort and concern. "This must be very trying for you, my dear. No need to be add to our distress by talking in public."

Claire frowns, this time in thought.

"If you will come with me, my lord and lady, I know some chambers that will not be in use right now."

Havelock nods and detaches himself from the wall to follow on, letting Claire and Brix go first.

It wouldn't do to be followed.

"By all means."

Brix glances back at Havelock once, but stays close to Claire.

Claire has a calm, self-assured walk, though she cannot be much older than thirteen. She turns down one hall and then another, then opens a door onto a small room that contains a few comfortable chairs and a desk. Its walls are lined with bookshelves.

"This should be all right," she decides.

Havelock stays outside for a moment, checking up and down the corridor, then slips in last, and closes the door behind him.

He nods to them both.

"It will do."

Brix nods in turn, focusing on Claire.

"What can you tell us, Claire? Be quick."

Claire takes a few deep breaths.

"Last night I could not sleep," she says.

"I meant to go to the kitchens for water, but I heard footsteps in the hallway-- it was Matthieu and one of the guards. They were going towards the courtyard, and Matthieu was saying that he wouldn't be long. He made it sound like he was visiting with a patron." She frowns. "I'd gone and hid, waiting for them to go back to bed, but after they went out, all I heard was a carriage leaving. Neither of them came back."

Havelock closes his eyes briefly.

Matthieu, you fool.

Then he opens them.

"Could you tell which guard? Nobody has come forward, correct?" he asks, very controlled.

"I didn't recognize him," Claire says timidly.

(Elua, he's frightening.)

"But there's a guard missing this morning."

Brix reaches out to touch Claire's cheek, genuinely comforting now.

"Thank you, Claire. How for Matthieu seem to you?"

This is not good.

There was no mention of anyone other than Matthieu in the note Brix recieved - if the guard is dead, it does not speak well of Grue de Agen's intentions.

She inclines slightly toward Brix, leaning into the touch.

"He did not seem troubled?" A pause. "No, he did, but I thought it was only the hour ... it is not usual."

Claire worries at her lower lip-- a bad habit, one she has been corrected on more than once. Sometimes, gently, by Matthieu.

"My lady, why would he go at all?"

Brix sighs.

"Because Matthieu is blessed with the desire to help others, Claire."

Even to his own detriment, it seems.

"'Blessed' is one word," Havelock says coolly.

"Claire, I know it is uncouth to speak of assignations, but believe me when I say this important - have there been any of Matthieu's that struck you as... uncomfortable?"

He knows - they know that Grue de Agen is the one to blame. But more proof can only be a help for when they finally catch up with him.

Claire hesitates.

"You ... care for Matthieu, don't you?" she says steadily.

"You want to help him?"

"Very much," she says, soft. "Both of us."

Havelock appears more reticent to admit anything of the kind.

But Claire must know the kind of communication that precedes an assignation.

"Yes," he says, voice low and eyes steady on her.

Claire gives a slow nod.

But she cannot hold Havelock's gaze for very long, and looks to Brix before she speaks again.

"I served recently at an assignation of Matthieu's. The gentleman was ... very beautiful, but very strange. He had Matthieu kneel and performed the bisous de doight, and later he bade him dismiss us from the room." She frowns. "Lierre and Meleze thought it was strange as well. He made us all nervous."

"Was Matthieu willing? Was he nervous as well?"

Oh, that had to have been Grue de Agen.

(Not least because Matthieu flinched when Havelock touched his mouth, and doesn't that burn?)

Havelock stays silent, but his face is thunderous.

"He agreed to everything," Claire says cautiously.

"But he seemed surprised. I don't ... think he enjoyed it."

Her heart pounds when she catches sight of Havelock's expression; she bites her lip again.

"It's just," more quickly, "when things are all right, you don't need to say they're all right, do you? They just are."

Brix shoots a glance towards Havelock, shakes her head slightly, and takes Claire's hand to lead the girl to a chair.

"Usually, yes," she agrees, sinking gracefully to kneel next to Claire. "It's strange to go out of one's way to say that things are all right when they really are -- is that what you mean?"

Havelock takes a breath.

"The main purpose of that," he says, soft, "Is more likely to convince oneself, than anyone else."

"Yes," Claire admits, "that is what I meant."

The cushions are soft; Gentian believes the pursuit of knowledge is a pleasure in itself.

Right now, she doesn't notice.

"He looked at us that way-- as if he were convincing himself. I think that's right."