Chapter Text
In the quiet of his office, the Chief Justice was busy at work. The quiet scratches of paper and quills, the soft noise of documents being shuffled around, and the occasional books opening and closing were the only sounds permeating the space. Through the windows, one could see the grey clouds outside, not threatening to rain but not allowing the sun to shine either.
Similarly, Neuvillette was feeling morose, and not even the nice water bottle he had opened just a few minutes prior could bring up his mood. Mondstadt's water from Springvale, crisp and pure, he could use the pick-me up…
A polite knock on his door dragged the Chief Justice out of his thoughts - and away from the paperwork.
“Monsieur Neuvillette, the mail is here!”. Sedene’s voice was clear, and even unhappy as he was, Neuvillette couldn’t resist the smile grazing his lips.
“Sedene, please come in.”
Soon after, the melusine was making her way in, hands full of boxes filled to the brim with letters and wrapped gifts. The sight of the little lady carrying so much despite her short stature has been deemed impressive by many Maison Gestion’s employees: but to be fair, a melusine constitution was pretty different from that of a normal human.
“Here you go Monsieur Neuvillette, as usual Liath and I took care of the initial screening.”
“Thank you very much for your efforts, I’m sure you have done a perfect job as always.”
Sedene was visibly beaming, and quickly dropped off her cargo before excusing herself to her duties, leaving Neuvillette alone once again. The man sighed.
The enormous amount of correspondence on his desk was a common occurrence: being the Chief Justice was an important public role, and many were clamouring to get in his better graces. Despite his impeccable reputation as an impartial judge, there were always the ones courting his favour. The melusines from the Marechaussée Phantom were doing a great job at filtering the unnecessary mail, but Neuvillette always ended up with a tremendous amount anyways. Still, it couldn’t be helped.
Most papers were for cases awaiting trials - evidence, testimony, reports. The workers would have already prepared them for him, and he would simply need to review them in due time.
Some letters were from nobles the court couldn’t afford to offend - those received a quick thank you note, with their present shelved to gather dust, or sent to Furina depending on the content, same as usual.
Others were simple well-wishes, from families and civilians thanking him for his help in serving justice. The notes he would keep, tucked away in a secret box in his office. Today, a little girl had written him in shaky letters, childish words hoping he would have a great day after making sure her mother was safe. A nasty stalker case, the culprit arrested and trialled before any serious damage could be done. Was it enough?
No personal correspondence. Neuvillette was the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and as such had a reputation to maintain. To uphold justice, and stay impartial. To observe the humans as they live and dwell, from a safe distance. It was his decisions that brought him here, and the Iudex was content to leave it like that.
Which is why he was surprised to find a package for him addressed from the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide.
It wasn’t rare for the two to exchange correspondence in an official capacity, but the Iudex wasn’t due a letter for a few days. Just to make sure, Neuvillette took a quick glance at his agenda: the end of the month reports for the Fortress were still two weeks away. Nothing in his grace’s last letter had let Neuvillette think he would send something over. But it was without doubt the Administrator's hand-writing, precise and bold, rough around the edge but applied with care, a bit like the man itself. What could possibly be inside?
Still, the Chief Justice trusted the man, and with no hesitation brought up his opening knife to undo the wrapping of the box. It revealed a simple case of dark wood, showcasing its content through the glass panel. Bottles of water with clear labels, and a note. How did the Duke manage to procure such a present from the Fortress? It was always a wonder how resourceful he could be.
Neuvillette has received many gifts since starting his tenure as Chief Justice: bribes, a favour, or a show of appreciation; Melusines gave freely, and humans were fond of presents. It could mean so little or so much, depending on context and social clues. Words whispered and shared secrets could make a paperweight as valuable as gold in the eye of the beholder. Emphasis was always made on finding the perfect present, one that would suit the receiver's tastes.
It was no secret that Neuvillette was fond of water tasting, but still the Iudex was touched by the thoughtfulness of the present. Something he would use and enjoy. His grace had no need for bribery. Was it meant to be some sort of gratefulness then? Surely it couldn’t be…
Neuville needn’t entertain those thoughts any further. The Chief Justice’s intervention in the Fortress of Meropide was still fresh on his mind, along with the many issues weightening his mood. While the Duke had already thanked him for his help dealing with the primordial water, his grace would be the type to make sure to reciprocate the attention in full.
Truth be told, Neuvillette found the gratitude unnecessary, as the Administrator was in no way responsible for the recent break, nor the further webbing prophecy. Still… The Chief Justice retrieved the note joined to the Duke’s present.
“In the hope you will enjoy this little gift.”
Short and to the point. Neuvillette couldn’t help but find the message endearing. Iridescent eyes scanned the paper a little longer as if committing its content to memory, before pocketing the little note. The Chief Justice had work to do. As the sun rays filtered in the room, the hours ticked away.
Later on, in the privacy of his own home, Neuvillette opened one of the bottles gifted to him by the Duke, enjoying the refreshing taste of Snezhnaya’s glacial water - light and airy, like catching snowflakes on the tongue. His thoughts wandered. Would it taste the same, if…
With the moon as sole witness, Neuvillette brought his fingers to his lips, entertaining for a moment a hopeless dream before locking it away. One instant of many. Likewise, the short note that had been attached to the present joined a growing collection, tucked away safely in a hidden drawer already containing many papers in the same hand-writing.
Down in the deep, Wriothesley tinkered and worked. Around him, the noise of machinery and the clanking of mechanical parts was a familiar melody. On his desk, the gramophone was doing its best to overpower the sounds of the gauntlets’ repairs, but was audibly losing its fight.
Engrossed in his project, the Duke was careful not to apply too much pressure on the delicate wiring, lest he provoked another accident. His last tea set had not appreciated the previous touch-up, or the ensuing fall to the ground from a rogue screw. His most recent cup had been empty for a while -when did he start working again? - but it would still be a shame for it to be destroyed. He should probably put it out actually, work out the kinks in his spine from being hunched over, and have a nice patrol. Sigewinne would appreciate his efforts. If he’s lucky his walk could blissfully be drama free.
Finishing some soldering, Wriothesley pushed his chair away, stretching his arms.
“Hum hum.”
This particular throat clearing was commonplace, and still the Duke barely resisted the urge to jump in surprise. When did Sigewinne enter his office? One day, he’ll put a bell on her waist so she would stop startling him. Forget the ice cold reputation of the Duke, the head nurse was the true menace of the Fortress, in her well-meaning ways.
“A polite person would have knocked on the door before entering, you know?”
“I did, but you didn’t answer so I opened anyway.”
At the same time, Wriothesley moved to the gramophone to turn it off. No use having it working if he was gonna chat with the melusine. Said melusine wasn’t adding anything more, simply fixing the Duke with her unperturbed gaze. Wriothesley sometimes wonders how the melusines view the world. What could they sense humans didn’t? Was Neuvillette similar? Or was it an entirely different kettle of fish? Still it wasn’t the time to moon away.
“I was gonna go on a patrol, it hasn’t even been this long since I started working on my gauntlets I swear.”
“Perfect! Taking regular breaks helps with productivity and focus as you already know. Still, it’s not the reason I was there in the first place.”
It’s not? Wriothesley took a second to look over Sigewinne, finally noticing the letter and the box she was holding. The Duke raised an eyebrow, cautious. It was rare for contrabands to warrant the Fortress Administrator’s attention without him already knowing of it. How did the head nurse get her hands on such a package?
And the letter… As the underworld population could attest, Wriothesley had more of a hands-on approach to many of the Fortress duties. Any concerns or disputes were brought up to him directly if it couldn’t be solved otherwise. Same for his informants. The dreadful paperwork for the Administrator of the Fortress was still sitting in one of his drawers, nearly completed. The rare correspondence he received was mainly from the overworld…
Wriothesley was quick to smother the smile threatening to appear on his face. Has his gift made its way to the Chief Justice yet? Was it an answer from him? Rational thoughts assured him it was not. Wishful thinking was saying it might be.
As usual, Wriothesley started by looking for information. Learn more about the situation before taking any action.
“And what do you have for me then Sigewinne?” He asked in a sure-fire tone.
The spark of mischief in her eyes quickly made him rethink his plans. As an answer, the melusine set down the letter and package on the desk, expeditor in clear evidence:
“Monsieur Neuvillette.”
Wriothesley couldn’t clear his gauntlets fast enough to make way. Among his less than delicate handling, a crashing sound could be heard. Oups, here goes his tea cup. It’s not like he has a dozen of them in his cupboard ready to replace it.
“Arghf. Sorry, is that all or do you have something else to share with me?”
“I thought you were going on a patrol?” Sigewinne teased.
“I wouldn’t dream of making our Chief Justice wait. I’ll just go on a walk after.”
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
She was gracious enough to not comment further, and soon enough the door was closed behind her.
Wriothesley was giddy as a pup, but forced himself to wait, despite what he had just told Sigewinne. First, he put away his gauntlets on a nearby table, finishing touches still missing. Next, with care to not cut himself, he cleaned the remains of his tea cup, dumping the fragments in the trash. Only then did he sat back down again, calm and composed (and not nervous at all).
Rough fingers caressed the delicate paper of the letter, solid, real, and a cream colour, admiring the blue ink Neuvillette favoured and the fine penmanship. As he had glanced before, it was simply signed Monsieur Neuvillette, no Chief Justice or Iudex or any of his many titles. That was a good sign surely?
Again, Wriothesley forced himself to tone down his joy. He hadn’t sent his gift to Neuvillette expecting anything. He wasn’t expecting anything from Neuvillette at all, only wished for him to be well. Happier. Wriothesley didn’t need anything in return. If he could contribute even a sliver to the Iudex contentment, the Duke would be satisfied.
But here he was, grasping at any morsel of attention like a lovesick dog. What hope did he have, in truth? What more could he ask? Repressing those depressing thoughts, Wriothesley turned his sight back to the letter. No use speculating any longer when the answer was quite literally under his nose.
Delicately, he undid the seal to reveal the content underneath.
“Duke of Meropide Wriothesley,
I write to you outside our usual exchange to personally thank you for your thoughtful gift.
I found myself enjoying it immensely, and wish to reciprocate the attention in kind. Please find in the accompanying package tea leaves from Qingce Village, which I was told are a delicacy for any connoisseur.
My sincere regards,
Monsieur Neuvillette.”
Was he any younger, Wriothesley would have pumped his fist up in the air like a lunatic. As it was standing, he only smiled like a fool, a great show of restraint on his part. The Duke read back the message once more, rolling the letters under his tongue like a sweet, almost picturing Neuvillette’s voice. It was no doubt silly, but the few sentences were enough for his face to lit up.
The Chief Justice was surely being friendly, and nothing more. Wriothesley knew. He knew nothing could come of … this. They respected each other, they valued the other work, maybe even the person attached to it. And in a way, Wriothesley was selfish enough to keep this comfortable status quo.
The Iudex was Fontaine's unparalleled symbol of Justice, impartial and professional to a fault. No particular attachment, no friends, no lovers. Wriothesley didn’t want to force him to make a choice. Would he even want to choose me?
But deep down, Wriothesley wanted more and more.
A few days later, Neuvillette received another present. As the Iudex parsed through his mail, his eyes were undeniably attracted to the familiar hand-writing, attached to a parcel once again. The Chief Justice hadn’t dared to hope, but was secretly delighted seeing the new offering.
Putting aside the case he was reviewing, Neuvillette took hold of the gift.
“Dear Monsieur Neuvillette,
The tea you sent me last time is a delight, and you are more than welcome to share it with me if you find yourself free one of those days. Although knowing you, you would rather have a nice glass of water. Speaking off, I happened to take hold of a fine receptacle that would pair nicely with your tastes. May you enjoy it as well!
Always a pleasure,
Wriothesley.”
Curious about the so-called receptacle, Neuvillette unveiled the box carefully. Nestled in fine velvet was a delicate looking wine glass. As the Chief Justice removed it from its case, he was surprised at its weight and seeming solidity, a sharp contrast to its fragile appearance. Catching the light, the transparent glass gained an iridescent shimmer, reminding Neuvillette of precious opals, or gleaming scales. Any liquid poured into the cup would be seen, allowing one to fully appreciate its colour and opacity, the iridescence only enhancing its content.
It was an incredible work of art, almost tailor-made for him, and Neuvillette refused to believe his Grace had simply stumbled into the piece. Surely he must have looked for it, or put some manner of thoughts into the gift. Was it coincidence that he just happened to send it now, or had the Administrator planned for another present after the first one? Was it because of him?
Putting a stop to his mind's peregrinations, Neuvillette focused back to the letter. The open invitation to share some drinks was not unwelcomed, and not new from the Duke, but hard to implement in practice. Justice was always busy, as was Neuvillette himself. Still, it would be nice for the two of them to share a break, unhurried by life events. Going down to the Fortress of Meropide might be difficult, but would the Duke be amenable to a visit to Palais Mermonia? The Chief Justice could almost hear the Administrator’s voice, sharing some anecdotes with him across the table, the soothing tone of his speech a balm to the ghastly cases he would need to come back to…
The Iudex quickly caught his thoughts once again. What a way to get ahead of himself. A measure of embarrassment made Neuvillette’s ears blush. Here the Duke was making a thoughtful gesture, and the Chief Justice was spinning an unnecessary production of the innocent present.
Neuvillette pushed the letter and the box to the side for the moment. The glass he left on the desk. It would be more prudent to leave it in its case so as to avoid any potential damage, but the Iudex wanted to look at it a little longer. The reflection of the glass on the walls reminded him of the sea, and Neuvillette's mood suddenly improved.
As he reviewed files and classified documents, the Chief Justice was already thinking about his next letter, a small smile he didn’t even register playing on his lips. Neuvillette mechanically filled out documents, until the clock struck. The sound almost startled the Iudex, who hadn’t been paying attention at the time. As if summoned, he heard footsteps right outside his office. The unceremonious slam of the door opening announced the sudden arrival of Lady Furina.
For a moment, Neuvillette almost wished it was the Duke paying him a surprise visit, and quickly perished the thought. Without waiting for permission, the Hydro Archon strutted in the room and sprawled on his sofa, commanding Neuvillette’s attention like a cat begging for pats.
“Lady Furina, I would appreciate it if you could knock before entering.”
“Come on, come on, you knew it was me! And we will be heading to the Opera Epiclese soon anyways! I’m very excited for the coming trial, I’m hoping for some twists, there is no way the wife…Oooh, what’s that?”
Only half listening to Furina ramblings, Neuvillette was adjusting his case folder one more time, and putting away everything that didn’t need tending. Shelving another book, the Iudex turned to see what had caught Focalors’ eyes, and a sense of dread suddenly took hold of his heart.
“Is it a new wine glass for your fancy water tasting? It’s really pretty! Where did you get it from?”
Lady Furina had stood up from her seat and was ready to grab the aforementioned cup. Before her hand could make contact, the wine glass was swept away. Blinking, her gaze followed the movement, to see the cup cradled protectively in Monsieur Neuvillette’s arms. They stared at each other for a beat, wide-eyed. Internally, Furina was screaming. What did she do? What is happening? Is Neuvillette angry with her??
Recognizing the panic building in his Archon’s eyes, and compelled by his odd behaviour, the Chief Justice made an effort to explain himself.
“My… apologies Lady Furina. This is a gift that was recently given to me, and I don’t want it damaged.”
Focalors jumped at the opportunity to escape the awkward situation.
“O my Iudex of little faith, I wouldn’t have damaged it! I am without a doubt the most trustworthy person in all of Fontaine, I can handle a simple wine glass!”
Neuvillette watched with trepidation as realisation dawned on her. At the same time, the Iudex was careful not to squeeze the precious glass, and quickly grabbed the box it had come in to put it back down. Strangely, he felt like a child hiding a secret from its annoying sister.
“Wait wait wait, since when do you accept gifts? Who is it from?”
It would have been easy to tell her. “It’s a present from the Duke of Meropide.” There was nothing shameful or inappropriate about the gift. But… Neuvillette wanted to keep it to himself. Something precious and private he didn’t want to share yet. Neuvillette didn’t like lying, but he had become quite adept at redirecting conversations.
“If we want to make it to the trial on time, we need to depart immediately. If you would be so kind as to leave my office so I could lock it behind me, I would be most satisfied, Lady Furina.”
Without waiting for an answer, the Chief Justice started walking to the doors. Thankfully, the Hydro Archon followed him, despite her complaints.
“I know what you are doing Monsieur Neuvillette! Why don’t you want to tell me? Is it from someone scandalous? Is it from a friend? No, a lover! Did it come with a note? Let me read it please please please, the trials are so boring but this is so entertaining!”
“What a wild imagination you have Lady Furina. I doubt my personal correspondence will be as thrilling as you make it out to be.”
“Personal correspondence! So it's personal to you! My my, now I’m even more intrigued! Who managed to catch the interest of the aloof Chief Justice of Fontaine? Is it a boy or a girl? Are they treating you right? If you need to, remind them that you have the full support of the Hydro Archon Focalors and that they shouldn’t play with your heart frivolously.”
Despite Neuvillette's best efforts, the apple of his cheek turned a pink hue at her monologue. Scenting gossip better than a shark on blood, Focalors’ eyes glinted with excitement and glee. The Iudex resolved to put a stop to this immediately.
“Lady Furina, I’m perfectly equipped to manage my affairs on my own. Now let us focus on the coming trial.”
Probably sensing his thinning patience, the Hydro Archon decided to drop the subject. She blabbed about the most recent cakes she tasted, and watched Neuvillette regain his composure, impeccable facade as he stepped into court. Inwardly, Furina was still reeling. More than 400 years with little to no personal contact, and now Neuvillette was receiving gifts from an unknown admirer! And accepting them! How did this happen? How did she miss it?
“I will find out the truth. Don’t think I’ll let you slip this easily…” Focalors muttered at loud.
“Lady Furina, is there something you want to add?”
“Ah! Y-yes as a matter of fact…”
Bam. Thud. Bam. Thud. Smack. Bam. Thud.
Not even boxing was enough for Wriothesley to release his frustration. In front of him, the punching bag had been the subject of his fists’ wrath for almost half an hour, but the Duke's thoughts kept harassing him. Letting out a defeated sigh, the Administrator stepped away to grab a water bottle.
The inconspicuous sight made his brain cycle once more. He thought of his gifts to Neuvillette. Was it really a good idea to push again? The glasses of water, he could have passed as thanks for the help Neuvillette provided in the resealing of the primordial sea. But the wine cup… This new present was pure indulgence, a frankly outrageous purchase from Wriothesley’s part -not that he needed the money, he had more than enough for his needs nowadays- and one obviously made with the Iudex in mind.
Would it be too much, too pushy? Would the gift be met with a kindly worded rebuttal, a “thanks but let’s keep it at that” ? A treaterious voice in the back of his brain whispered “it could be the start of something more.”
Wriothesley put down the bottle, and wiped his brows with his towel. Standing back in position, he checked the bandages around his hands once again while muttering to himself.
“Come on, Wriothesley, you’re better than that. Make decisions, and accept the responsibility of your actions.”
Bam. Thud. Bam. Thud. Smack. Bam. Thud.
The Duke tried to empty his brain, taking solace into his training. The familiar punches, the give and take, the web and flow like the rising tide. As the minutes ticked away, Wriothesley let his worries go, pushed to the side for the time being.
Finally, his timer went off, signalling the end of his training session. Wriothesley was slightly panting from the exhaustion, and definitely sweaty. He was due for a shower. Taking his stuff with him, the Duke made his way to his quarters, passing his office on the way. Once he was done, and feeling more refreshed, Wriothesley set out to make himself some nice tea.
He decided to use the leaves offered by Neuvillette, no sentimentality involved. It was a great tea, and Wriothesley deserved it for a job well-done. The day had gone pretty well all things considered, with only minimum intervention on his part to break out a fight that was brewing between two inmates. The seal was holding up perfectly -he expected no less from the Chief Justice-, the Wingalet’s construction was going without an itch, and the production from the Fortress was as smooth as ever.
Bringing both teapot and cup to his desk, the Duke sat down on his plush chair. At the first taste of the floral blend, Wriothesley relaxed even more. It really was a great tea. It’s such a shame he had no one to share it with: teatime was always better spent in company. Should he invite Sigewinne for an impromptu party? Or ask Clorinde the next time she was down here. Or…
Like an unwanted mosquito buzzing in his ear, the words he had written in his last letter to Neuvillette came to him unbridled. His invitation for the Iudex to visit him and share a drink. Was it too forward? Wriothesley resisted the urge to bang his head on the desk. So much for relaxing.
The knocking on his door was a welcome reprieve. Soon after, Monglane was entering the office, hands full of papers.
“Hello again your Grace, I have more letters from the surface for you to review.”
“Please leave them on my desk, I’ll get to it as soon as possible. Thank you.”
As she had done many times, Monglane obeyed. The Duke was punctual and professional, and she could expect the administrative tasks to be returned in order tomorrow. She would however admit a sense of curiosity. Tucked between the usual paperwork and reports, a package bearing the Chief Justice name was a surprising sign. Even more when she had already taken a similar box from both his Grace and the Iudex before. But while she was not an exiled like many of the inhabitants, Monglane had learned a thing or two working as the Fortress of Meropide receptionist. Some things were better left unspoken. Still, she’ll keep an eye out for gossip…
Alone in his office once more, Wriothesley started to catalogue his correspondence. His current workload was thankfully light, with the Duke having completed most of his administrative duties already. Only some assessments were left to fill out, and his Grace was ready to spend his afternoon crunching numbers again if nothing important needed his attention. Fortunately, the letters were few: some business discussions with partners on the overworld, some reports to the Maison Gestionnage, slips of information from his many eyes all over Fontaine…
And a perfectly wrapped box addressed to him from Monsieur Neuvillette.
Fuck taxes, those could wait. With reverence, Wriothesley took hold of the package, sliding it in front of him. Deft fingers opened the letter first. He refused to let his imagination spiral anymore, when answers could be read and deciphered from the much awaited message.
“Duke of Meropide Wriothesley,
I must thank you once again for your mindful gift. The wine glass you offered me is satisfactory, both in function and beauty, and I have used it many times already when taking a break. You mentioned previously an invitation for us to share and enjoy the drink of our choice. Unfortunately, a meeting down in the Fortress of Meropide may be difficult on my part at the moment…”
Wriothesley's heart plummeted. He shouldn’t have pushed, he shouldn’t have… Bracing himself for rejection, the Duke resumed his reading.
“...However, if you are amenable, would you join me in Palais Mermonia to deliver your end of the month reports in person? Four in the afternoon would make the perfect time for a cup of tea.”
Wriothesley blinked. Read the passage again. Blinked once more. It was real. He had the words on paper, beautiful calligraphy and ocean ink. The Duke treacherous' heart was going wild. The rollercoaster of emotion probably wasn’t good for his health, but he didn’t care.
He had a meeting with Neuvillette! Neuvillette wanted to see him!
His rational brain battled for moderation. A professional meeting was no romantic outing. Although rare, it wasn’t the first time the two had met in such a setting. It would be the first time after they started their little exchange however. Should he do something different? Don’t get ahead of yourself. You are barely friends, acquaintances at best. Let’s finish his letter.
“My heartfelt regards,
Monsieur Neuvillette.”
Oh, what would he do for this heart… Sensing his brain approaching useless territory, Wriothesley mentally slapped himself to focus. The letter wasn’t alone, and didn’t mention any gift. Naturally, the Duke was cautious about the package, but rapidly concluded it didn’t present any danger.
The box revealed an exquisite tea set. Bone white porcelain adorned with delicate platinum filigranes, bearing the seal of the famous Christofle house’s craftsmanship. No doubt costing a fortune, not to mention the wait it should have taken to access. Words were caught in the Duke’s throat.
Wriothesley hanged his head back, bracing himself for an uncomfortable mental tug of war. Hopeful. Weary. Tired of chasing dreams, and still looking for signs. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. How was he supposed to think?
Thankfully, taxes didn’t really need his brain at full capacity.
The last court session had drained the Chief Justice of all energy. A petty dispute from two previously engaged partners, both arguing about who should get custody of their child. Laws would favour the mother. The father was obviously the better suited parent. The judgement wasn’t yet given, and another sitting tomorrow was aiming at solving the issue for good.
There wasn’t much for the Iudex to say, when the majority of the discussion had been the two parents screaming at each other, and Focalors feeding the flames for some drama. The kind of day he questioned the meaning of “Justice”. Neuvillette had only come back to his office to store documents and prepare for tomorrow. And see if he had any mail from…
Inside, nothing had changed. Desk cleaned to his satisfaction, documents arranged in their respective shelves. The windows that had let in a sliver of light from behind the dark clouds were now showcasing an increasingly sombre weather. The Chief Justice closed his eyes before stepping in. He could be patient. His last letter was only sent yesterday. There was still time for an answer.
In total silence, and without bothering with additional lights, Neuvillette set up to do what he had planned. Sure movement he had done many times made work quick. Once this was over, the Iudex took a moment to breathe, settling in his skin again and preparing to face the public world. His doors were just closing when he saw a melusine coming from his peripheral vision. A glimmer of joy warmed his heart. Neuvillette was to give her his full attention.
Muirne was holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, if an unusual one. Made of romaritime blossoms, white lilies and blue iris, and tightened by a pretty red ribbon, it was both elegant and eye-catching. But rarely would one appreciate romaritime flowers to their full potential, and it attracted the iudex’s curiosity.
“Ah, Monsieur Neuvillette, thankfully I caught up to you before it was too late!”
“Hello Miurne. What did you want to talk with me about?”
Always happy to speak to Neuvillette as he was to speak to the melusines, the Marechaussée Phantom’s agent presented him with the bouquet, holding the flowers as close to his face as possible, which wasn’t very high. As he often did, Neuvillette touched one of his knees on the ground to exchange more easily. The delicate scent of the blossoms filled his senses.
“These flowers are very charming. Were they a gift to you?”
“Monsieur Neuvillette, you are being very silly, they are not for me but for you of course!”
The Iudex froze. For him? The melusines would sometimes go out of their way to offer him presents: trinkets, cakes, drinks, bits and pieces that caught their eyes and that they thought would please him. He accepted and kept every one, safely stored in his house. It would be the first time receiving a bouquet this elaborate however: usually they simply handed him individual flowers, or braided some in his hair.
“Ah, my mistake, thank you very much, Miurne.”
Neuvillette took the bouquet out of her hands. He stood up again, and let his gaze wander on the flowers, admiring them more closely. The colours were vibrant, the petals fresh, and the blossom pleasingly symmetrical, obviously selected with care. The Iudex fingers caressed a romaritime flower delicately, almost hearing the song of the water.
And nearly dropped the bouquet after noticing the note half-hidden by the leaves. The Duke. His heart skipped a beat.
Miurne noticed the change immediately, and started to frown.
“Should I have disposed of them like the rest after all? Sedene assured me this one was okay, because they are from his grace and recently…”
“Do not!” Neuvillette responded almost immediately, fearful at the idea of having this precious bouquet destroyed. Realising his outburst, he continued in a calmer tone.
“Do not worry, both you and Sedene made the right choice. You have my gratitude for the prompt delivery.”
“Good then! I can see this bouquet makes you very happy, so I’m glad!”
The Iudex felt himself blush, a bit embarrassed to be this transparent. But how could he act otherwise, when confronted by such nice girls, holding in his arms a wonderful present.
“It… does. It does.”
Neuvillette spent another beat gazing at the bouquet, before remembering himself.
“Miss Miurne, your shift should be over if I’m not mistaken. Would you like for me to accompany you home?”
“Ah, I promised to tell Sedene how the delivery went! I will have to decline for today, sorry Monsieur Neuvillette!”
The Iudex chuckled good heartily at her sheepish expression.
“That’s perfectly fine, I hope you and Sedene enjoy a nice evening.”
“You too Monsieur!”
He watched her go, hopping to the doors and out of Palais Mermonia. It was also the moment he noticed the melusine had not been the only one private to his uncharacteristic display. While Iaune seemed deeply absorbed in his work, it was not the case for Cornelia and Eunomia who were discussing together. The blush came back to the Iudex’s cheeks against his will.
Neuvillette didn’t want to know if he was the focus of their talk. Never releasing his bouquet, the Chief Justice quickly locked his office doors before heading home. Under the radiant sun, Neuvillette periodically admired his bouquet, a smile on his lips. Had the Duke procured the romaritime blossom himself? As a vision user, he would be free to dive under the waves. Or had he employed someone to secure his gift? The simple thought of his grace using his considerable power for such a benin task brought a spark of mirth in his mind.
Oh, and what news could the Administrator’s letter contain? Neuvillette had resisted the urge to open it yet, saving its reading like a delicacy to enjoy in the comfort of his own house. He had already been reassured: such a tender bouquet couldn’t possibly be accompanied by bad news. The Duke wouldn’t be this cruel.
Dinner was enjoyed in tranquil peace, a simple but filling consommé. Neuvillette's good mood didn’t abate, even as the sun set for the evening. As the time came for the Iudex to gain his chamber, the bouquet followed, set in an ornate vase to make them last longer. The red ribbon he had collected.
The Chief Justice undressed, bathed, and prepared for bed. As he was brushing his long hair, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the bouquet once more, watching the pink, blue and white petals under the moonlight. Finally, Neuvillette put down his comb, and gently grabbed the Duke’s envelope.
“To Monsieur Neuvillette, from Monsieur Wriothesley.”
The Iudex took a moment to trace the letters, before carefully detaching the stamp bearing the Duke’s personal seal.
“Dear Monsieur Neuvillette,
It would be my greatest pleasure to join you for our meeting. I shall count down the days to our fateful reunion, and pray I don't displease you with an improper report.
On a personal note, how did you know I broke my last tea set? Was it Sigewinne unveiling all of my secrets to your eyes? As you can probably guess, yours is already a new favourite, and I must thank you once again.
Until we meet back on the surface,
Yours truly,
Wriothesley.”
Neuvillette savoured the words, reading them again and again. Happiness was seeping under his skin like bubbles rising to the surface. The Iudex was reluctant to put the letter away, to part with the hope he was entertaining. Locking away the missive, like he would try to lock his feelings.
He shouldn't encourage those exchanges. He should stop. Keep it there, barely out of reach, an almost dream. Something like friends.
In the end, the letter joined the other notes in the drawer of his dressing table.
Whispers and curious eyes followed the melusine as she walked. It wasn’t usual, being a marcechaussée phantom’s member down in the Fortress, where she had helped put behind bars many criminals. She knew they could be resentful, and would watch her every move. It wasn’t her first time down here: if they stayed at a safe distance, she would tune out their voice. And if they threatened her, she already knew the Duke would appear to protect her. Still, she couldn’t be distracted! She had a mission given to her by Monsieur Neuvillette, and it didn’t concern them. And after that she could enjoy some nice cake with Sigewinne!
The mutters and gazes from onlookers hadn’t diminished by the time they made it to the Duke’s office. Veleda found them very bizarre, as when she had taken a better look at the crowd, it seems that none of them were feeling particularly hateful. The exiled were more like the gossiping ladies reading the Steambird she saw hanging around the Fountain of Lucine. Had they never seen a melusine before? That would be very strange as they were in Fontaine…
The guard that was escorting her to his grace’s office was kind enough to open the door for her. It would have been difficult for the melusine without damaging the bouquet she was carrying. The Duke was seated on his desk, documents spread all around him, but he was already rising, forgetting his work to welcome her. Come to think of it, his grace and Monsieur Neuvillette were very similar in that sense.
“Hello Miss Veledaaaaa- hum, to what do I owe the pleasure? If you are looking for Sigewinne, she’s probably still in the infirmary.” The Duke stuttered in the middle of his sentence as he looked at her, before quickly catching himself. Again, strange. Did she have a chocolate stain on her face she had missed? She’ll ask her friend for a mirror.
Ah, the mission!
“I have a special delivery for you from Monsieur Neuvillette! He asked me to make sure the flowers arrived at your desk fully intact and in prompt time.”
The Duke's bewildered expression came back. To her melusine’s eyes, it seems that his grace was probably feeling a bit hot. Oh no, was he sick? It would be a really bad time, but maybe the flowers would comfort him! Veleda held out the bouquet to the Administrator.
In a flash, his grace was back to his usual charm, and accepted the flowers the melusine was handing him. His fingers were delicate to the stems, cradling the blossoms with gentleness. Judging by the fondness in his eyes, the gift was making him really happy. That’s good!
“I would rate your service an impeccable 5 stars, Miss Veleda.”
“It was my honour as a marechaussée phantom’s member to assist our Chief Justice!”
A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. The Duke frowned, and the difference between his serious face and the pretty bouquet made the melusine giggle.
“Please come in.”
Sigewinne’s voice came in right after, and Veleda lit up to hear her friend. Her footsteps made it clear she was climbing the stairs, but she didn’t wait to be all the way to the top before speaking.
“Your grace, do you know if Veleda has already arrived? We’re supposed to meet for tea but… ah there you are!”
Sigewinne first smiled at Velada, waving, before her gaze drifted to the Duke. She eyed the bouquet, and next the man himself with a strange spark in her eyes. Then Sigewinne grabbed Veleda’s hand excitedly, and started talking about their tea party.
Both girls exited the office, and Wriothesley found himself alone once more. Him and the flowers in his hand. From Neuvillette. He was still a bit dumbfounded about this unexpected present. When he had sent his bouquet to the Chief Justice, he wasn’t really expecting anything in return. Sending flowers is a classic “thank you gift”, and an appropriate answer for the beautiful tea set. Everyone loves flowers, right? And it wasn’t like the Iudex would know he had spent hours agonising over their meaning, aiming for a balance of friendliness and professionalism with a dash of beauty. And if there were any message to be found in the choices of flower, well what would a poor ex-criminal like Wriothesley know about it?
And now, he had an answer in his hands. Well, probably not a meaning of flower answer, but he had spotted a letter nestled in the blossoms, and couldn’t wait to open it. As for the bouquet, the Duke could recognize the marcottes, but he wasn’t sure about the others. It was a good thing he had recently purchased a book on flower language. He was sort of indecisive about looking for deeper meaning, but the pictures would at least serve for identification. Not everyone would look up flowers’ language an entire night: normal people just bought an already made bouquet in a shop because it was pretty.
Better start with what he can read. Wriothesley opened the letter to reveal the much adored blue ink.
“Dear Duke of Meropide Wriothesley,
I must confess I am also looking forward to our meeting. I have secured some fine tea leaves I hope you’ll find acceptable for your choice of drink. Regarding your report, you know the paperwork is always impeccable, and you would never displease me so.
As for your old tea set, I didn’t know it would need replacing, but I’m glad my gift had such an opportune timing. The flowers you sent me in return were lovely. It would be unfair of me to not reciprocate.
My warm regards,
Monsieur Neuvillette.”
Wriothesley was smiling like a fool, he already knew, from the moment he started reading. It was the first time in his life he was awaiting an end of the month report. This meeting with Neuvillette was already shaping to be quite friendly, with the promise of good tea and even better company. Should he bring snacks? He wouldn’t dare to come empty-handed at the very least. Not since they started this little game of exchanged presents.
After the second reading, Wriothesley decided it was high time to look for his book on flowers. And possibly find a vase. He was pretty sure there were none in his office at the moment, but decently certain the infirmary had at least something patients could use to put get-well-soon flowers. The problem was that Sigewinne and Velada were currently having their tea party, and Wriothesley didn’t want to give the girls anymore grain to grind. He had noticed the head nurse's mischievous glint when she saw him with the bouquet.
Rummaging through his office, the Duke found an empty jug of water he could at least use to prop the bouquet straight so the petals wouldn't be crushed. In comparison, his flower language book was not difficult to find, on the shelves right behind him. The multiple bookmarks in the pages were easy to spot, and even easier to remember for Wriothesley, fresh as they were in his mind.
Blue Iris - wisdom, faith, hope, royalty. I trust you deeply. White lily - purity, majesty, rebirth, commitment. Often offered at weddings. Romaritime flowers - ethereal, elegant, loyalty and unswerving oaths. Said to have been a spirit in love with Fontaine’s previous archon, blossoming at her hydro touch. Only a folk tale, but damn he could relate, thinking of iridescent eyes and powerful steps- no offense to Lady Furina.
Back to his bouquet. The marcotte was easy to find: a pink flower with a pearl-like luster and a rich scent profile. An indispensable part of everyday life in Fontaine. No need to look too deep: it was a pretty flower with a nice scent. Wriothesley was now pretty sure there was no special message for him in the flowers. He actually kinda hoped it was the case, or it would mean Neuvillette knew about his own deliberate choices, and that would spell disaster.
Browsing the book, Wriothesley was pretty sure he had identified the two remaining types of flowers. The first one were light red carnations: admiration, devotion, distinction. The second were red gladiolus: strength of character, faithfulness, moral integrity, and remembrance. Additionally, the red ones meant passion, romance, and love, and were traditionally gifted for Valentine’s Day. The Duke’s ears flushed involuntarily, even knowing the bouquet had probably been selected because it was in shades of red, and must have reminded the Chief Justice of his favourite outfit. Or he could be projecting again. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
Letting go of the book, Wriothesley just took the time to look at the flowers. Even standing in a simple jug and not the elegant vase they deserved, the bouquet and its sender had wholeheartedly captured the Duke’s attention. His fingers itched to touch, to detach the white ribbon keeping the flowers together and think of pale hair and glossy locks cascading down a vulnerable back.
Discerning eyes roamed around the office, arranging and making sure every inch of the space was perfectly ordered to reflect the calm and elegance Neuvillette was far from feeling at the moment. The Iudex was restless with nervous energy. It was uncharacteristic of him to be that agitated, and he couldn’t understand why. He had already seen Wriothesley many times, and studied Fortress’ rapports a hundred times more. Every inch of the space was meticulously tidied and cleaned on a daily basis. The sofa was primed with cosy pillows Furina had assured him made for a perfect sitting spot. On the spotless coffee table, a pale blue tea set was waiting for the other participant to arrive. His wine glass was standing right by it.
The Chief Justice took a look at the clock. There was still time before the meeting, thankfully, because Neuvillette was less than settled. He almost felt like jumping out of his skin, and the foreign sensation was one he wouldn’t have minded not knowing.
Someone knocked on the door. The Iudex stood straighter, forgetting the cutlery he was still arranging next to the napkins. Brushing his blue suit and making sure his hair was arranged to his preferred choice, Neuvillette approached the door.
The Chief Justice kept a straight face as disappointment seized his heart after seeing Miss Imena and not the Duke. The woman had a worried expression on her face, and lost no time explaining the reason for her presence.
“Monsieur Neuvillette, I’m sorry to bother you before your appointment, but I have a request to make. Would you happen to know why we haven’t yet received the Fortress end of the month reports? His grace is usually so punctual I’m wondering what could be the issue…”
“Ah, Miss Imena, I apologise for the oversight on my part. His grace and I will be meeting in person, and so he will be bringing the paperwork himself. Rest assured all documents will be given to you for archive purposes by the end of the day.”
Imena’s face was a picture of surprised shock, but professionalism soon took over, and she bows slightly.
“I see, there is no need for apologies Monsieur! I will not take much more of your time. I hope your meeting with the Duke goes well.”
“Thank you for taking the time to check-in with me..”
“Ah, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Good afternoon, your grace!”
“Good afternoon Miss Imena. At least I hope I’m a handsome one!”
Wriothesley had made his way over, passing by Maison Gestion employees that were all glancing at him when they thought he wasn’t noticing. While the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide was a well-known name, the visage of said man was a mystery for many. They were probably wondering who he was, walking in like he owned the place to meet with the Chief Justice.
Miss Imena saluted the Administrator as he passed by, but was quick to detach herself from the situation and regain her desk, sensing her presence was unwarranted.
The Duke was carrying a box under his arms, but was otherwise as familiar as Neuvillette remembered, wearing his favoured coat and grey suit. Neuvillette resisted the urge to check his own attire one more time as the Duke finally made it to his level. Preening was unbecoming, and would be terribly embarrassing for him.
“Good afternoon, Monsieur Neuvillette.”
Was he imagining the softer tone?
“Good afternoon, your grace.” The Iudex replied with as much tenderness.
After a beat, the Chief Justice gestured to the door.
“Please come in. You can sit on the sofa, if you so wish, while I retrieve the tea I promised you.”
“Then I will do as told.”
Neuvillette watched as the Duke advanced in the office, following suit after him. His grace came to a stop in front of the dressed coffee table, before sitting down. It was his turn to gaze at the Iudex back while he was getting the tea leaves.
Strangely, gone was the anxiety that had been building in the Chief Justice’s skin. Once the Duke arrived, the atmosphere relaxed almost instantly, despite the silence that had yet to be broken. It felt so natural for the Administrator to be sitting here on his sofa, preparing for a nice afternoon tea.
Neuvillette was soon bringing back the missing utensils and materials. Wriothesley had deposed his package on the table, and waited for the Iudex to settle before speaking.
“I would make a poor guest if I visited our Chief Justice empty-handed. Those are for you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”
The Chief Justice smiled. He had already noticed the box before, and could deduce it was for him, but hearing the Duke said it made it infinitely better. With calm movement he hoped didn’t betray his excitement, he unfastened the package to reveal a pleasant-smelling batch of conch madeleines.
“Thank you, your grace. Those pastries look very appealing. If they are mine to do as I wish, let’s share them, then.”
“That’s what I was hoping for, I’ll confess.”
“In that case, I have another admission to make: it may be impolite as a host, but I’ll rather leave the tea preparation to you. I would like for you to enjoy this break to the fullest, but it has been a while since I have prepared any tea.”
“Do not worry Monsieur Neuvillette, this meeting has been nothing but pleasant so far, and serving myself tea is a cheap price for the delight of your company.”
Neuvillette felt as if the Duke’s eyes were piercing right through him, and hoped no blush was visible on his face. Instead, he elected to put a madeleine in each of their dessert plates, while the Duke prepared his tea.
Was it too much? It was probably too much, tone it down Wriothesley. As the Duke went through the familiar motion of tea preparation, he stole glances at Neuvillette, who was pouring himself water. He was using the wine glass he had offered him, and Wriothesley’s heart was full at the vision.
“While we wait for the tea to seep, shall we try the conches you brough?” Neuvillette proposed. He may not have hidden his eagerness well enough, as the Duke was smiling.
“Please do, I can see you want to try them.”
They are a gift from you, how could I not? After years spent in Furina’s company, the Iudex had developed a taste for sweets. While they couldn’t compare to pure, unadulterated water, he was somewhat of a connoisseur on cakes of all kinds. Neuvillette took a bite, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that the inside of the madeleine was filled with a delicate floral custard. Mmm, not exactly floral…
“Those are absolutely delicious. Is the filling tea-infused?”
“As expected of you, you have a sharp palate! I know my teas will never compare to your love of water, but I had hoped to give you a taste in pastry form.”
“How cunning of you, your grace.”
“But is it working?”
It was like Wriothesley wasn’t watching Neuvillette polish the pastry between bits of conversation. The Chief Justice had expected the banter, and was delighted to rise to the occasion with some trades of his own.
“I may need another one to make sure.”
“Your word is the law, Monsieur Neuvillette.”
The Iudex selected another snack, putting it gently on his plate. It seems the Duke’s tea was ready, as the man was pouring himself a drink. His grace only had to look for a moment before Neuvillette was holding out the sugar to him. Wriothesley seemed surprised, and the Iudex realised he may have made a mistake.
“Ah, was it wrong of me? I remember you saying you like taking two cubes of sugar with your tea last time you invited me. I don’t have any cubes, but I assumed powdered sugar would be serviceable for your purpose.”
“It could be shaped like a star for all I care, powdered sugar is fine. I’m just… surprised you remembered.”
The Duke was looking at him so intensely, Neuvillette felt overwhelmed. His heart skipped a beat. Was it the emotion that pushed another admission out of his lips? Or his earnest desire to not just observe, but participate.
“How could I not, when you so love your teatime?”
There was something bubbling in the air. A fleeting spark, on the cusp of something more. Across him, pale grey eyes were pinning Neuvillette in place. A twitch in the Duke’s hand caught the Iudex's attention lightning fast. Muscles coiling, ready to jump out. Flight or fight. Neuvillette couldn’t move. What was happening?
The Duke blinked slowly, almost like a cat, and Neuvillette imitated him on instinct. His grace then relaxed further into the sofa, and grabbed his plate unceremoniously. The soft ting of the chains attached to his coat. The ruffling of clothes. The Administrator's whole behaviour was tranquil and loose, exaggeratedly so. Ah. He was trying to appear as non-threatening as possible for him.
“For all your fancy water-tasting from drinks all over Teyvat, the waters of Fontaine are still your favourite.” His grace offered like a confession, something tender and vulnerable. The words unspoken are the flower.
The spark fizzled.
“Your grace, I don’t know what overcame me, I’m…”
“If it’s an apology, there is no need. Now, I heard a fantastic rumour back in the Fortress of Meropide, and I would like your opinion…”
As quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and the conversation picked back up. The Duke was a pleasant discussion partner, both attentive and prompt to engage. Neuvillette had often been told he could be aloof and intimidating, and that being on the receiving end of his talks was either recompense and punishment. If his grace was suffering, he certainly wasn’t showing it. The Iudex was basking in the atmosphere like a dragon under the sun, enjoying the time and presence of the Duke.
Sooner than he would have liked, the conches madeleines were all devoured, and Neuvillette found himself already missing them despite eating more than half. The Duke was finishing his tea, and he knew they both would need to go back to their respective occupation. But the Iudex would still cherish the precious moments left of this afternoon.
“The pastries you brought were fantastic. Where did you purchase them? I’m sure Lady Furina will be begging to try them after learning of their existence.”
The Chief Justice was trailing his fingers on the lacquered box, but couldn’t find any symbol or names on it. The Duke who had been so confident for their discussion suddenly turned embarrassed. His face was tainted a delicate pink, left hand reaching for his neck.
“Ah, you flatter me.To tell you the truth, I was the one that made them.”
Neuvillette froze.
“You made them?”
The Duke was quick to justify himself.
“I happen to know a bit about navigating a kitchen. When we agreed to meet today, I decided to make you something, and I remembered this recipe for conch madeleines. It’s nothing special, but I’m glad you liked them.”
With the years, Neuvillette had learnt that some humans liked to downplay their abilities. It could be subterfuge, shame, or humbleness, because they don’t want to attract attention or aren’t quite sure of themselves. The Iudex wouldn’t have guessed his grace would be the type, but maybe there is something special to be said about hobbies. Sharing a private moment, offering personal vulnerability on a plate.
“Then I am honoured you took the time for me. You truly are a great baker.”
“If you wish, I could make you something else next time.”
Next time. Neuvillette looked up. His grace had proposed it with assurance, posed all but cocky on the sofa. Still the Iudex could sense some tension in the nonchalance of his hands. The Chief Justice wanted it gone.
“I wouldn't say no to whatever deliciousness you’ll come up with.” Neuvillette offered with a small smile. The Duke's answering grin was radiant.
The clock’ sounded five, and announced the end of their meeting. Not once had they truly talked about work, but the Iudex fully trusted the documents the Administrator had brought up with him.
“Ah, it seems it’s time for me to bid you adieu, Monsieur Neuvillette.”
The Chief Justice almost asked him to stay a bit more. At the last moment, he thought better of it. He shouldn’t. The Duke had to go back to the Fortress, and Neuvillette had neglected his own work long enough with this indulgence of a meeting.
“Thank you for your work once again, your grace.”
“You can drop the formalities if you want. Just Wriothesley is good enough.”
“I’ll… try my best to remember then, Monsieur Wriothesley.”
The Duke chuckled.
“Better than calling me Duke Wriothesley of Meropide or another fancy title so I’ll take it.”
The two gentlemen were back at the door, side by side. The Duke stopped for a moment, before turning to the Chief Justice with a little bow. His eyes were right back on Neuvillette when he talked, amusement creasing their corner and bringing attention to the scar under his eyelid.
“See you next time.”
The Iudex could only nod.
“I will await your letters.” Neuvillette added a little late for his own parting words.
Wriothesley turned, and exited just as he had walked in, passing by the Maison Gestion’s employees without a care in the world. Neuvillette watched his back disappear as the doors of the Palais Mermonia closed. He then forced himself to ignore the glances that the staff were taking at him, and went back to his office. He had taken special care to not have any meeting scheduled after the Duke, and Sedene knew not to let anyone in without a very good reason.
Neuvillette was smiling wide. Happy. So many precious emotions and moments, like shells on a beach he had collected and wanted to admire. Even as the tides crashed and went, even when Neuvillette knew not how tomorrow would go, he would treasure this afternoon forever. Cherish it.
Still giddy with a feeling he wasn’t familiar with, the Iudex made for his desk, but noticed something on the sofa the Duke -no, Monsieur Wriothesley- had used. Between the cushions was a letter and a little package.
Neuvillette laughed.
Wriothesley was still thinking of their meeting the next day, and probably would for weeks to come. It had gone just like a dream, and the Duke could hardly believe it had been true, even when he was there himself.
He could still see Neuvillette’s smile, face softened and illuminated by the sunrays coming from outside the windows. A slight tint on a delicate cheek, a gloved hand restraining a laugh, a snarky comment that made their appointment oh so entertaining. So many times Wriothesley had almost stopped talking to just look at him, bask in his presence, worship him in silent prayers. He looked so happy.
He wanted that every day, late afternoon spent leisurely talking, glass and porcelain clinking on the dress table. Even if it meant slaving in the kitchen for the rest of his life to bring new snacks each time, to see the delight and the surprise anew.
There had been a moment there too, in this meeting. Eyes locking, seizing his soul and not letting go. The urge for his fingers to touch, to grab and stay. A flash of something Wriothesley couldn’t quite put a name on. Terrified and elated him in turn. Longing? Danger? His own desire and desillusion making him see things that weren’t there?
And Neuvillette had closed up, caught in a spell the Duke couldn’t bear to see go on any longer. Slow moves and soft voice, like coaxing a skittish beast, like a light in the dark. He had hoped, he had gambled. The Iudex had followed.
So many faces he had yet to see on Neuvillette, and that he had been allowed to witness this perfect afternoon. Once more, he wanted to push. Another, and another. Look at me. Show me joy, show me sadness. Show me love. If you don’t tell me to stop, I will never go.
So much for teaching old dogs news tricks. Oftentimes, Wriothesley thought he was bound to the same sins again and again. Not satisfied with what he has, and reaching for more.
“Your grace, did you listen to a word I just said?”
“The new inmate is still pushing himself too hard, yeah I’ll go talk to him once he’s on his feet again.”
Sigewinne pouted. It’s not Wriothesley’s fault he could both obsess and listen at the same time!
“Would you rather be drinking tea with Monsieur Neuvillette then if you find my company so tiring?”
“Don’t you dare, I would waste away without our regular tea party, o’ head nurse.”
The melusine giggled, and the Duke counted it as a major win. He continued, a bit more seriously.
“I’m sorry I’m not the best company today, I just… I’m probably overthinking.”
“You are, it’s written all over your face.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Wriothesley hesitated. He probably should, actually. Air out his feelings, and let it go. A professional second opinion. Sigewinne would never tell a soul. She would be all reasonable about it too. “It’s a bad idea to continue, you will only get heartbroken.” “Why not settle for someone a bit more real, a bit more approachable?” A bit of realism would do him good. Remind him he’s getting ahead of himself, chasing a dream he has little hope to catch. The Duke was ready -as much as he’ll ever be anyway- to talk.
“A delivery for his grace!” Monglane shouted, knocking on his office’s door.
The Duke jumped out of his seat like an excited teenager. Sigewinne sighed. So much for moderation.
The Chief Justice and the Administrator had agreed to meet regularly for their end of the month report. A reasonable timing, and a reasonable excuse. All the while, their exchanges continued. The letters were getting longer and longer, always accompanied by a little gift.
“Look what I found.”
“I saw this in the market.”
“It reminded me of you.”
Wriothesley sent shiny shells. He received polished mechanical parts. A pen, a notebook. Blue wax, black ink. Desserts and snacks. A novel, a phonograph record. Two sides of the same coin. Simple, but practical, well-used and well-loved.
Neuvillette kept every letter close, hidden just out of reach in his room. Some nights, after difficult trials, he couldn’t resist the desire to look at them once more, experience them anew. It was a bad idea, but the Iudex knew he couldn’t forget them regardless of what he did. And the wisps of comfort were like a balm for his weary soul. His walls were eroding, he could feel it. But he wanted to fall so badly, wanted to jump and hope the Duke would catch him. Only the thought of his duty, and the fear of losing Wriothesley were still restraining him. It would take so little…
The Duke was still resisting the urge to pinch himself at each letter, each word of Neuvillette. Wriothesley felt he kept on pushing, and that every letter may be the last, a word too much for the Iudex. But the correspondence kept steadily coming, drops of water for his parched throat. The Administrator treated every one like a miracle. And keep on pushing, testing the limits of what he was permitted. More gifts. Growing bolder. Wriothesley hadn’t yet gotten Neuvillette to just call him Wriothesley after all, not even in writing form.