A lot of things had changed in the years Tiberius had been gone. More had stayed the same. The High Houses of Minrathous were as grand and cavernous as he remembered, though it pained him to see the Pavus estate in poor repair. Still, it would do him no good to seek our Enzo right now.
He was in this part of the city to visit Tilani, after all. The heir had married – and, it seemed – been in some kind of trouble of late. Tiberius knew he should stay far away based on that second rumor alone. And yet.
This newest Tilani was virtually unknown. They weren’t just a stranger from Neromenian or Ventus. As far as any of his House’s spies could tell, the woman had not existed until she married Kaczor Tilani. That was curious. And technically none of his business. He’d sent a card ahead anyway. Simply put, his reputation, his ability to influence his fellow Magisters and keep House Umbra spinning … None of that would be served by staying at home, too afraid to stick his neck out.
The carriage rumbled to a stop in the drive, and Tiberius waited, feeling it took an eternity for his liveried footman to open the door. He’d grown too used to living without a household staff. Still, this was not the time to do anything alarming.
Thank you, Petrus. Now go and find someone to unload our gifts, hm? Tiberius strode up the drive and the front steps, waiting patiently to be led in by one of Tilani’s people.
The Lady of the House had received a letter from House Umbra, and while she was not open to visitors, it would look poorly on her wife's reputation (already tarnished by a year in captivity) if she turned her nose up at the minor house. So, she simply had opted to not send a response.
They were curious about her; as was to be expected. Kaczor had wed her, their first year together they had been seen at every event imaginable, practically inseparable. She'd been on her wife's arm, snug against her side. No-one had much of a chance to get close to her, much less suss out how someone who had no record of existence until her marriage had snagged the heir to one of the most notorious families in Tevinter.
She liked the surprise; and she knew they'd never find her ties to the Calidus family. Though they might stumble right into a military-locked file, under confidential... And they'd never convince the military to give up an asset. Especially when her marriage was supposed to be a mission to serve the Archon.
An older woman let the middle-aged Umbra male into the home, having taken her time in answering the door at all. "Master Tilani is not home, but Mistress Tilani is waiting for you in the tearoom."
And the woman turned heel, guiding the way to her young mistress.
He never liked this part. Being steered around the great houses by their servants, only seeing what he was allowed to see. Carefully arranged public rooms, beautifully appointed but inch-deep. Chairs that were hardly sat in, tablewares that were never used. Maybe Orlais was onto something with their masks, after all. All of this was boring, dead theater.
But he’d never say any of that aloud. Tiberius followed the haughty old bitch to her lady’s drawing room with a bland smile on his face, taking silent note of everything. Fashions for paint and draperies and onto how to dress one’s servants had all moved forward without him. House Umbra could not be left looking shabby.
Then he got his first look at Master Tilani’s new wife. Or, perhaps, she was not exactly new. Pretty enough, he supposed, though Tiberius was no great connoisseur of feminine beauty. Petite, typical in her coloring and mein, nothing that immediately stood out and said fuck tradition and alliances, make me yours at any cost! Curious.
Had Maevaris made this match – or had the heir herself? There was, at least, a possessing spirit or demon there. Invisible to him, but not so to Despair. Good thing, too. He might have said something quite rude if she wasn’t even a mage.
“So pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Mistress Tilani. Tiberius Umbra.” He removed his hat and sketched a pretty bow. ”Let me be the first of my House to congratulate you on your marriage. Alas, my Grandfather’s long illness has us all at loose ends. We’re very much behind on making all the— proper overtures. May I sit?” Of course, Grandfather wasn’t sick – he was dead, the shambling shade wearing his skin yet another monster in the attic. They’d burn him soon, and put the word out, but not until Tiberius was done settling.
Novella did not stand, though she did smile brightly. The pleasure in acquaintance, is mine. She dipped her head, though did not directly answer his request to sit. Her wife's family had taught her, that as a member of a High House, she must never treat Lesser Houses as equals.
But she'd known that all along; and had been letting her in-laws train her to be the perfect wife of the not-so-perfect heir for fun. You may call me Novella. She added, once he had seated himself. Studying him, thoughtful, You've been gone from the events of the quarter. A matter-of-fact statement.
And she reached to claim a teacup, just as Sari poured the fresh tea for her. Do social events bore you, or are the rumors that you've been out-of-bounds, true? She tilted her head, thoughtful as she took a sip of her tea.
That’s weird. What have I done to you, madam? She was doing a fairly convincing job of receiving him politely – but with a little barb of rudeness in it. The slaves, their disdain made more sense to him. They served an old Altus family and were familiar with House Umbra’s general brand of bullshit by now. Maker forbid that they have to pour tea for a man merely in the top fifty most powerful people in the country, rather than, say, the top twenty or so. This woman was a perfect stranger, though. When it was clear she wasn’t going to kick him out, Tiberius took the seat across from her, resting his hat on his folded knee.
”I have been, yes. For some time.” He rested his hand on top of his tea cup, tapping black-painted nails lightly against the gilded rim. If he could bear the heat, it would be cool enough to drink.
”Oh, I like everyone and all their parties and salons just fine. Only, my search for a wife took me too far afield. And no one thought to warn me not to travel.” Tiberius would have bet good money that Mal could have done it, if he’d wished. The half-elf had come very far since they’d been boys in the academy together. He shrugged, as if the years had been nothing to him. Out of bounds, indeed. He liked that. It sounded like he’d broken a rule in a game.
”Had I known there were mysterious highborn ladies of no particular former relevance here at home, I need not ever have left.” He gestured vaguely at Novella as he spoke, lifting his teacup with his other hand. ”To Master Tilani’s good fortune. Now, I would love to hear how you met.” Tiberius savored the tea, enjoying the way it coated his tongue and warmed his sinuses. It wasn’t even stale, unlike every cup he’d been served in Orlais since the Darkspawn came.
She tilted her head slightly. What makes you assume I am of high-birth? She inquired, a lazy smile spreading across her lips. The Tilani's could have trained me, into what they want, for all you are aware. And they had, in a way. But not because she'd been unaware of how one of noble birth should act — but because she had pretended to be.
She'd needed them to think she was just the abused and estranged daughter of a greedy man, and it'd worked perfectly. Save for the fact she fell in love... She sipped her tea, humming quietly.
We met through an arranged marriage, as many of my wife's status do. She responded, with a smile. Our first meeting happened at the family home. Was a bit of a scandal, her lips curve. I'm certain you've heard the rumors.
Her father had been quiet about it; only because he wanted no claim to the half-breed. But he had made sure to spread nasty rumors, about how loose the new Lady Tilani was. How provocative she was; how she had bewitched the heir. Anything to ruin her reputation; and yet, her reputation stayed fine...
“Only that it would be exceptionally strange for you not to be.” He quirked an eyebrow at all that, lips tightening as his own smile became a touch forced. If she were not – and was telling him so – then something rather odd was going on.
Her wife’s status. Not her own. That seemed to be a confirmation. Interesting, if only because it was not a good political climate for interesting things.
The Tilanis did have a reputation for it, though. That dwarven not-quite-husband some years ago. The money that his death had brought in. Had that cash dried up? Was he sitting across from some Laetan-born heiress right now? His gaze focused on her hands, looking for signs of work.
“That’s all very tidy, Novella.” She had said he could call her that, and it was a relief to drop the Masters and Mistresses, talking like a damned slave. Her wife might think it over familiar, though. “But no. I haven’t heard a thing.” A partial lie. He knew she’d visited the Archon, apparently furious about Kaczor’s poor treatment. An arranged marriage that had happened two years ago? No. Society had moved on from that.
Tiberius was here to settle personal curiosity only. Well, and to perhaps renew his House’s standing offer. A Magisterium vote for sale, for the right price. Useful, when the great houses tended to vote in blocks. It would be more expensive, these days. He didn’t want whatever shadow that had fallen on Master Tilani to land on him.
A wicked grin spread across the young woman's features, and she leaned towards the stranger, almost conspiratorially. You've not heard how my wife tongue-fucked me in the art gallery until her father walked in on us? She raised her eyebrows; convinced everyone had heard that story, by now.
She didn't even blush, as she recounted the rumor. Which was very much true; but the rumor mill had been unable to pin a last name to the new Mrs. Tilani, save for her married name... and so, it was determined, that the two of them must have loved one another enough to risk their reputations ensuring they were together.
Untrue, on the love factor. But very true on the fact they'd been willing to ruin their reputations. Hilarious! Everyone's heard that rumor now. It's quite amusing.
Tiberius just about managed to hide a mild facial twitch of confusion. She was trying to be shocking, clearly. Fair play, and one he wasn’t above using himself to discourage questions and conversation that he was disinclined to entertain. Especially with the opposite sex. It usually worked – though not on the creature walking around in Cecilia Bellefleur’s skin.
“I’m sorry dear, but no, that one hasn’t made it all the way to Orlais yet. Or I’ve been talking to entirely the wrong people.” He perused the food on offer, relieved to see House Tilani wasn’t attempting to offend him by serving him flesh. That would have boded ill. Tiberius selected a dainty cucumber sandwich and studied Novella’s face.
No one liked to have their private business spread about town, no matter how nonchalant their manner. Unless this was another misdirection? He’d had to speak to some of the ne'er-do-wells on his family’s payroll, find out if this two year old gossip was anything other than a lewd conjuring to set him running. Clutching pearls the whole way home, no doubt.
“Felicitations on your love match, no less. Though … I think I’d like to see this museum. Was the art that inspiring – or that dull?” He ate the little sandwich in two bites, cleaning his fingers on a napkin. “Perhaps my fiancée would enjoy a visit. If we were to decide an elopement is preferable.”
Novella's lips pulled into a pleased grin, It's quite a display. My Kaczor is a proper patron of the arts, always donating to charities to fund art, ensuring students have a model at a moment's notice. She's worked with some big names on the scene, too. She settled back in her seat, humming softly.
Inspiring, truly. Though, at the time, I was very much distracted and could not truly appreciate the art until later. She chuckled wryly, eyeing the man across from her.
I hope your fiance and yourself will visit. It'd please us to host you both for a weekend. She reached for a sandwich, considering what she might ask this man in front of her.
Biting into her sandwich, she pondered for a moment more. So, Tiberius, how was Orlais? She arched a brow, studying him almost critically, now. Does it compare to Tevinter's beauty?
Oh, he’d misunderstood somewhere – she was referring to a private gallery. That was curious too, though. Gossip like that should have never made it out of House Tilani. It indicated holes, either in their security or in the loyalty of their slaves. On the other hand, it might have been spread deliberately. (And that seemed quite likely, since the heir’s wife was telling him all about it.)
Either way … One could not assume the same flaws were still there – either for shoring up or for exploiting – interesting as it all was.
“I’ll let Lyric know we’ve been invited. Perhaps my mother can spare us from wedding planning for a few days. She’s an absolute tyrant.” Tiberius shrugged, leaving them firmly uncommitted for the moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted this mysterious new power in House Tilani. At least, not enough to put his bride in her curiously rough hands. If Ella’s prior suggestion – that of House Tilani training her for this role – were remotely true …
Well. They had odd ideas of what a noble lady should do. Those calluses didn’t come from dinner knives.
“Oh, well. I suppose Orlais was alright at first. I’d even go so far as to say that they have somewhat better wine.” He did not like the way her aspect sharpened at that, a pricking of the ears. Malachai had already interviewed him, poking and prodding at his loyalty in a way that could have been considerably worse, if he were to be perfectly honest. Friendship was still worth something, even if he couldn’t have saved Tiberius six years of his life.
“I wouldn’t want to malign my fiancée's homeland, but I wouldn’t say it compares. Not after an ogre nearly killed me on the road. Fortunately, Lyric is a mage of considerable talent – she saved my life.” He wouldn’t mind that rumor spreading, the sooner the better. “The country’s still overrun with Darkspawn and the Emperor is barely out of short pants. They’re fucked.”
Tiberius sat back in his chair, regarding Novella, curiosity more or less sated. She was quite the odd duck, but this visit had probably run its course. He glanced back, toward the doorway.
“Petras? Bring it in, please.”
His footman entered, carrying a tray loaded with three items. A dish of green tea leaves, harvested and processed mere weeks ago from an old arbor farm that Tiberius owned outright. A snifter of fine Orleisan brandy, a sample from several quarter casks carted all the way home to be given as gifts.
Finally, something that appeared to be a music box, lacquered wood framed by gilded wings.
“Grandfather started this as a gift for your wife’s wedding. Due to his illness, well, I had to put the finishing touches on myself." Tiberius leaned forward and lifted open the top. The light in the room dimmed, turning sunrise pink and blue. A dawn chorus of native bird calls rose softly in the air.
"Since Kaczor isn’t here, I give this to you on behalf of my House. I hope it pleases you both.”
Is the wine better? I'll have to import some, she exclaimed, thinking back to the idea that her wife had put before her; of applying for permission to leave the country on vacation and re-enter at a later date. It could be fun, to explore the nations around them, see what kind of wines and foods were available...
But that was neither here nor there.
Hm. Unfortunate. Orlais' culture has always fascinated me, from the books she'd read. Hopefully your fiancee shan't need to save you anytime soon, Tevinter was quite a safe place, after all...
But the man settled back in his chair, summoning his footman. And she smiled, and straightened, to study gifts prepared and bestowed upon her and her wife. Because the reality was, she as accepting this in Kaczor's absence. Kaczor would have likely put on a better show than she; the woman practically exuded confidence.
This is gorgeous, she reached to trace her index finger along the lacquered wood, noting how the lighting in the room dimmed and altered when the box was opened. Her eyes were delighted; another tell-tale sign that she'd never seen magic utilized in such a way.
House Tilani gratefully accepts, she stated, and a maid moved from a doorway to claim the tray from the footman. And I believe our youngest Tilani will enjoy the music box the most, she chuckled quietly, at the thought. It'd look nice in the little girl's room.
Once she'd accepted the gift and it had exchanged hands, she stood, brushing her hands down the front of her dress. Please, I'll walk you out. You'll have to bring your fiancee by, as well. I'm so very curious about the foreigners. Because there were many, coming and going.
Tiberius sat back and watched Novella’s face, trying to gauge her reaction. Simple polite formality – or genuine pleasure? The latter, he hoped. A pound of fine tea or a quarter cask of brandy were rich enough gifts, suitable for any occasion.
The art pieces though, he loved: the investiture of thought and skill that went beyond only wealth. That she went on to declare a possible fate for the piece seemed rather promising. He knew House Tilani would likely tear it apart to ensure it was safe for the little girl – hopefully his spellwork would be easy enough for them to reassemble. He did not blame them a whit.
“Thank you for the diverting afternoon, Novella.” Tiberius let himself be guided out, finding no reason to prolong this obvious dismissal. The time might not have been wasted, per se, but he felt he hadn’t learned much either.
“Is yours a popular name, I wonder? I believe I’ve heard it somewhere before – and not, I promise, in connection with any lewd gossip.” He recalled exactly where, to be honest. His study, Malachai’s mouth. The fate of a violent, overeager idiot hanging in the balance.
If Mistress Tilani was something to the Eyes, that would explain so much – and somehow raise even more questions. Petras opened up the carriage for him, and Tiberius offered the young woman a wry smile.
