It was half an hour later, and Lucia stood at the edge of the estate gardens by the luncheon table, desperately looking about for the Duke. She saw, with a growing nausea, Erasmus at the table furiously arguing—though quietly—with Lindell, the motions of his arms more than making up for his whispers. Lindell, for his part, seemed uninterested in the affair, though there was only so much she could glean from expressions. She dare not peer into their emotions directly, to make matters even worse. She would be surprised if Lindell wasn’t similarly warded from her influence.
Walter and Raleigh lounged at the other end of the table chatting, oblivious to the storm brewing between Lucia and the Deacon. She wished Talia were here—she’d know what to do.
And just like that, she saw Talia crest a rise with Richmond beside her, coming down to join the rest of the party at the edge of the garden.
The succubus walked to the Duke, hoping her expression kept the anxiety from showing on her face. Talia paused, however, taking her hand and drawing her aside. “What’s wrong?”
“They know,” said Lucia. “The Deacon, and now Lindell—”
Talia looked over to the two inquisitors for a heartbeat, and then regarded Walter and Raleigh just as briefly. “Come away, let us find a place to talk.” And she pulled her along the garden path, which twisted away from the luncheon area behind them. Soon enough, they found a small gazebo where they would not be overheard.
Talia pulled her ‘wife’ to sit beside her on the white bench. “Tell me what happened,” she said, her mouth hardly moving.
“Something Erasmus was wearing—an amulet of some kind. It reacted when I tried to soothe the girl’s emotions. He knows what I am.” The words came tumbling out, Lucia trying to keep her voice from rising in response to her anxious energy.
“Calamity,” Talia said, perhaps the strongest curse Lucia had yet heard the woman utter. “Well, it isn’t your fault, I doubt more than a dozen people in the isles know of those amulets. I believe they’re called Gabriel charms. Knowledge of them is tightly guarded, though perhaps they’re due to be unveiled if a Deacon is playing around with one.”
“Could we discredit him, somehow?” Lucia did not have a mind for intrigue … beyond ‘make them feel sad, or maybe angry, or horny,’ which was very useful, but momentary.
“Possibly,” Talia said, her eyes distant. Then she turned her gaze back to Lucia. “I’ll take care of this. I will protect you, my wife.”
Something stirred in Lucia then, something she dare not name, but it did not rise above the anxiety of the moment. “Please,” she said. “I am here at your behest. It is your plans you’d be saving. I don’t want it to fail because of me.”
“I should . . .” Talia trailed off, then nodded to herself. “No, I’ll be able to fix this. Play along, will you?”
“I . . .” but then Talia retreated from her wife as she headed back to the party, stride steady, her limp nearly disappeared, though she still had her cane. Lucia suspected the woman would be feeling the pain of her exertion later. After a moment they came back in sight of the group. The Duke called Richmond to her side and spoke with him in a steady whisper Lucia could not hear. The man nodded and strode away quickly in the direction of the carriage house.
Erasmus slammed his fist on the table and stalked off from Lindell—clearly intent on exposing an unlicensed demon. Indeed, he made directly for Lucia, his face reddened from anger.
“Lucia of House Fallmire, hear this accusation from a duly appointed inquisitor of the Ordo Sacerdotum!”
The party went silent immediately. All eyes turned on the two of them.
Erasmus gulped, clearly not used to the attention, but he blustered on. “This woman is an impostor! Indeed, she is not even a woman, but a summoned succubus of the Abyssal Dream! This accusation I make in the light of the Ordo, and I command you demon: get thee hence!”
Lucia wasn’t sure if the gathered party could get any quieter, but surely it was silent enough that all present could hear the hammering of her heart. She felt her face begin to redden.
Then, Raleigh laughed, a loud, booming thing. “Oho, that’s a good one,” he said, “A real knee-slapper,” and he punctuated it with a literal slap to his knee.
The tension dissipated. “Is it one of those mystery parlor games?” came the high-pitched question from Walter. “You know, catch the demon, look for the clues, all that. I didn’t even know we were playing!”
Annalynn made an ooo sound at the thought.
“This is no joke!” Erasmus said, but clearly his hosts were not having it. “I will file my official report with the chapter house as soon as possible!”
Lindell had come up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t make this worse,” he whispered just loud enough for Lucia to hear. Erasmus roughly shook off the Bishop’s hand.
It was then that Talia approached. She wore a saber at her hip; the first time Lucia had seen the Duke wear such a weapon. Lucia assumed that was what Richmond was sent to fetch.
Talia stepped up to Erasmus, her lip stiff with an expression of barely-controlled fury.
“You, a fellow guest of this house, dishonor me and the good name of my wife,” her voice began low, but it crested upon this last word. She continued, “By making this baseless accusation, you forget yourself, sir! Do you recant your testimony?”
“Never!” Erasmus said, matching her fury for fury.
Talia regarded him silently, then, hatred mingled with disgust on her face. She slowly pulled off one of her white gloves, snapping it down to the ground at Erasmus’ feet. Then, she turned and stalked off. To Lucia, the Duke had the very cut and profile of a grizzled Navy Admiral, dignified in her anger.
With that, the gathered party went deathly still again, all eyes on what Erasmus did next. He looked down at the glove, then grabbed it in a smooth motion.
The challenge had been accepted. Talia would duel Lucia’s accuser, in defense of both their honor.