Rathna watched Gabe. She’d had a rather more solid lunch than he had, almost certainly. He generally forgot to eat in the first flurry of a new assignment, and this was a vastly larger one than usual. She gave him a moment or three, nudging the cheese plate closer to him. When he had settled down into nibbling, she asked, “Have you spoken to Isobel about that?”
“You first. Ideally, you and Mama and Papa first, we’ll see about that.” Gabe hesitated. “There’s something in the back of my head, dancing, about what she might do with it.”
“Well, people will tell a young woman a lot they wouldn’t tell you. Especially one who’s as good at looking innocently curious as Isobel is. I’m sure she’s got significant skills in chatting up older women over a cuppa.” Rathna liked Isobel, honestly. Of the three apprentices Gabe had taken on this far, she was the one Rathna would pick for something like this wide-ranging assignment.
She’d been asked, a time or two, if she were jealous. Not by Alysoun or Richard, or any of their closer set. But others had asked when she and Gabe made the rounds at the more bohemian and eclectic social parties in Trellech. If Isobel had wanted, she could have had half a dozen artists begging for her to be their model and their muse. She had the sort of blonde English beauty that caught the eye, but with a depth to her that meant people kept looking.
Isobel came from a farming family up in Yorkshire, and had an instinct for charmwork Rathna expected was rather more rare than Isobel realised. More than that, she had a gift not just for accents, but for language in general, in particular picking which register to use when.
In fact, Isobel and Gabe could go through half a dozen registers in the space of four or five sentences, chasing each other around in mode and formality. And Isobel was sharp enough to keep up with Gabe’s wide-ranging focus. Rathna just sat back and laughed, when people asked, when she could.
No, she didn’t resent Isobel, or worry about what Gabe might get up to. For one thing, the worst impulses around abuse of power and inequality had been trained out of Gabe very early, by half a dozen people besides his parents. And for another, all she had to do to be certain of Gabe’s affections was look at him. He was whole-hearted, loyal as his father, and he never did manage to keep much from her, anyway.
Which made her certain something else was going on for him, some uneven spark in his reactions, stuttering up and fading. Certainly not under his conscious control, but as if some part of him were working furiously on it. Rathna was still considering that point when she heard a gentle chime, just loud enough to register. Rathna glanced up to a thin row of lights. “That’s your parents. Shall we go downstairs?”
“I don’t know how tired Mama is.” Gabe hesitated, and that wasn’t like him at all. He had an easy and loving relationship with them, unlike many of his peers in age and station. He trusted them, and he leaned readily into their skills and experience.
Rathna ran through what she knew of Alysoun’s day. Gabe’s mother had lived with exhaustion and pain that came and went on no particular schedule since he was tiny. Exertion and going to one of these obligatory social outings were always worse, and more so on short notice. Rathna had been able to tune the portal here, but she couldn’t do that for all the others.
“Let’s go ask her. She’ll be glad to see you, anyway.” She always was, and Richard would be as well. Despite them all living at Veritas, it was remarkably common for the four of them to go a couple of days at a time without all being in the same room. They had busy lives, given the various cases, assignments, social obligations, and personal amusements they got up to. It had been true before September, and it was even more true now they were at war.
Five minutes later, they’d acquired after-dinner drinks, and had settled in their usual chairs in the library. Rathna thought Alysoun was looking tired, but thoughtful. Rathna’s own commentary was brief. “I believe Howard will turn up tomorrow, willing to make the apprenticeship oaths. A trial, though, to see if we suit each other. He spent the beginning of our conversation entirely unsure what to make of me.” It had been the part they’d known, talked about, though of course they couldn’t be sure how it would actually play out. No plan ever lasted past that first contact.
Alysoun snorted. “Well played, then, dearest. Well played. I’d love to hear how it went when you’ve got a minute to breathe, but not tonight.” Her gaze flicked over to Gabe, who had his hand on Rathna’s, like he wasn’t sure how to stop touching her, and certainly didn’t want to. Rathna smiled back. Alysoun was generous with her praise and with her shared joy when things went well, but it felt like something special every time. She was incredibly fortunate in her in-laws, and she kept finding more reasons why.
She lifted a finger slightly, pressing it against Gabe’s hand, and he sighed slightly, shifting to focus a bit more on his father. “The meeting this morning was with Aunt Mason and Aunt Witt - and with Smythe-Clive, Rolls, and Hespasia Wallace.” His parents placed the names immediately. Gabe dove into the heart of it. “The Wild Hunt’s been seen. They think they need someone to figure out all the moving pieces, all the people doing magic and trying to do magic.”
“And likely, what’s coming from overseas, or via agents here, in Britain and Albion.” Richard saw the core of it immediately. Of course he would; his Guard training led to that, inexorably. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it, that there were the two sets of people, magical and non-magical, sharing space and not, all at once. What threatened one of them might be nothing to the other, and that went both ways.
Gabe inhaled sharply, and Rathna paid close attention to his hand on top of hers. It wasn’t that any of his nerves were particularly obvious, though it was likely his parents had noticed as well. But that tremulous set of nerves, that wasn’t much like Gabe. Nor were the few stumbles of clarity earlier over supper. Something about this had caught at him, more than he’d expected. “There’s a budget, supporting staff. My choice, along with Aunt Witt and Aunt Mason, of course.”
“Well, you’d be unlikely to go against their advice if you hadn’t won an argument about it.” Alysoun sounded very amused at that. “You have more sense.”
Gabe ducked his chin. “Just so. The Council doesn’t have anyone who can do all of it, apparently. My guess is that Alexander is closest, but he’s said himself that - well, for one thing, he’s obviously himself, half a dozen ways round. Magically, his background.” Alexander was half Egyptian, half French, and wherever he was, he stood out. “And of course, he’s got other things he’s needed for.”
Alysoun considered that, taking a moment to do it, and Richard held back on whatever he’d been about to say to give her the space. When she spoke, it was careful. “What’s giving you pause, Gabe?” It was one of the things Rathna most appreciated about Alysoun, about both of them, as a model of how to raise children.
They respected Gabe as a grown adult, with different and equally potent gifts to their own. They weren’t threatened by it even if they were sometimes baffled. Well, given Gabe, regularly baffled. But they trusted his instincts, and a remarkable number of times they had trusted them even above their own. This, though, this was bigger than most matters they’d tackled as a family. They all knew it.
“I don’t know. Not enough.” Gabe twisted his other hand over. “I need to talk to Alexander, obviously, find out what else he knows that he can share. I’m certain he’s not told Smythe-Clive much about us, as a family. I mean, first of all, he’d have checked, and second, the way they both reacted.”
Richard nodded once, picking up. “Well, the Penelopes are rather mysterious. The Council’s seen you as my Heir, respectable enough, good sense of the land magic. They know the lands here are thriving, but I don’t know how much they attribute to you, rather than me.”
That at least got one of those flashing smiles out of Gabe, and Rathna squeezed his hand. He was so eager for his father’s approval, even though Richard was as generous with it as Alysoun, if in a more reserved mode, and Gabe did a great deal worth approving of. “Sir.” That was Gabe teasing with the formality, and the twitch of his hand settled a little. “It will mean - well, it’ll be challenging. The scheduling. And for Avigail in particular.”
Alysoun picked up on that quickly. “How long do you think you have in the planning, both of you?” She glanced at Rathna first, since at least Gabe would still be in the country, and could make it home by portal, at least semi-regularly.
“I did get permission this afternoon, assuming we can work out a few details. I can hope Howard might come around to being willing to help, but even if he doesn’t, there are some other possible sites further south. I can’t imagine we’ll be ready to go before March, and we need at least a bit of a thaw to work with. I’m confident we can make things work, but getting the materia, getting other staff together, training them. That will take time.” She’d batted around ideas, with Richard and Magni, in particular, as well as with her own guild. Both of them had long experience with planning similar enough sorties for the Guard.
It meant everyone looked to Gabe, who held up his free hand. “They’d like us to get a move on, but obviously, we need to do some preparation. Mama, do you by chance already have a running analysis of the Society of Inner Light letters and anything else like them?”
Alysoun laughed, amused. “Oh, that came up? Yes, I do. I’ll make a copy in the morning and add a few more notes in the margins. Lizzie’s been cross-referencing a few specifics to reports in the Trellech Moon and a few of the more likely journals. You’ll want to check with her.”
Gabe inclined his head, but he was smiling a little when he looked up. “Aunt Witt gave me the hint. And I’ve scheduled some time with Doyle tomorrow afternoon, if nothing actively explodes.”
He hesitated, then. “It will mean a lot of travel. Other people’s schedules, as well as whatever emergencies or urgencies - or whatever we call them in a time of war - come up. Needing to stay places until I can visibly get a train out to keep up the proper show.” The situation was changing fast, and Rathna could only assume it would continue to do so. She turned her hand under his, to thread her fingers through and squeeze, and he squeezed back.
Alysoun nodded. “It’s good you settled back here, really, rather than insisting on staying in London.” They’d spent the earliest years of their marriage in a flat there, not least to be near to Morah Avigail. They’d moved back properly after Anthony was born. Rathna had to admit that having a generously sized nursery and Nanny to go with it had made balancing their various complex lives much easier. “Avigail’s old enough to understand a fair bit. How do you want to talk to the children about it?”
“Not yet, I think, the details. But letting Avigail know we’re working on big projects, we’ll be around less.” Rathna spoke nearly before she thought about it, but she knew it was the right answer. “She’s the one still here, and - well. We can pass letters to her, but I’d rather not tell her difficult things by letter without someone else handy.”
Rowena and Anthony both had their own journals, and were actually remarkably reliable at writing most days, even if it was only a few sentences. “And we’ll go out and talk to the others as soon as we can.” She glanced at Gabe. “Together. Sort that into your diary, please, in your planning. Tell them enough they don’t worry if they don’t hear back as quickly as usual.”
Gabe smiled at her. “This is where I’m going to need a reminder, I’m sure.” Calendars and diaries and appointments were not a gift of his, though he’d go to the things if someone reminded him.
Alysoun shook her head. “At any rate. We are here for the duration, and while Richard might be on call for any number of reasons, he is not in the field as regularly. And there’s Nanny, and the rest of the staff, and Gil and Magni around the place to keep her occupied with interesting questions.” She glanced toward the door. “When will you tell them?”
“Tomorrow. Evening.” Gabe let out a long breath. “It’s Isobel’s birthday tomorrow. I don’t want to keep her late. The others had something planned, too.” A bit of a prank, a bit of a treat, as the Penelopes usually ran to.
“Right. I’ll make sure I’m handy by teatime.” She sounded relieved, honestly. Mornings were not Alysoun’s best time, but the outing must have been more of a strain than some. Gabe must have realised the same, and he looked uncertain again.
“Come, give me a kiss. No, doing the set-up right matters here. Give me a day to work on it, and I’ll have a timeline for you on what else I’ll be able to get and who you want for staff to start.”
“You are entirely under-appreciated, Mama, by nearly everyone.” Gabe obligingly stood to go and kiss his mother’s cheek, and nod at his father, then held out his hand to Rathna as she kissed both of them gently.
“You two enjoy the time you have together. Make the most of it.” That came from Richard, and it made Rathna blush. Gabe’s parents made no secret of their ongoing pleasure in each other, but that was a tad more explicit than usual. Not that she was arguing. It was a solid sentiment to build on. Whatever happened from here, she didn’t want to regret any time she could have had with Gabe, when they had the chance.