St. Valentine's Feast - Part 2 - A Feast of Hearts

[Jerusha]

Part 2 - A Feast of Hearts

The Green Tower
Coroth Castle
Duchy of Corwyn
February 14, 2013

Evaine Morgan paused outside the heavy, carved wooden door of the Green Tower's study.  She had slept longer than she intended, and it was now past noon.  In the early morning hours, Duke Alaric had first tried to contact Richenda through theshiral, but with no perceived success.  He had then tried for Bishop Duncan and, just before giving up, he had felt the slightest brush of consciousness.  They had all three poured their flagging energy into that slight contact to try to convey the plan they would try tonight.

She touched her signet ring to the precise spot on the door to allow her entry.  Normally they would not have placed a Deryni lock on the door, but given the presence of their guest inside, Dom had suggested the extra precaution.

She opened the door to find her brother Richard stretched full length on his back on the Kheldish carpet.

"Did you sleep on the floor?" she asked.  "Or did his Grace tire of your company and knock you flat?"

Richard grinned up at her, rising to his feet as he spoke.  "Neither. I was stretching my back.  I let Duke Alaric have your roll-away cot, which I hope was a lot more comfortable than the couch."

"That was very gallant of you.  Where is Duke Alaric, by the way?"

"He's freshening up in the bathroom.  Remember that old straight razor of Grandfather's you wanted to get rid of?  Alaric was quite comfortable with it, and I thought it better than trying to explain how an electric razor works.  As it was, I had to explain how the toilet and sink worked."

"Oh dear, I should have thought of that.   On the other hand, maybe it's better that you explained it to him."

As if on cue, the door to the bathroom opened and Alaric Morgan stepped out, freshly shaven and with the collar of a modern white shirt visible at the neck of his tunic.

"Good afternoon, Lady Evaine," Alaric said with a slight bow. 

"Good afternoon, your Grace," Evaine responded with a slight curtsey, causing Richard to raise one eyebrow.  "I hope you slept well enough."

Alaric smiled.  "Yes, I did, much better than I expected to.  Your cot is quite comfortable; I wish I had one for my days on campaign."

"I'm afraid I can't provide you one, but I can provide lunch.  It will be a bit later that normal, but hopefully satisfying.  We'll have to serve ourselves though, since we can't allow staff up here at the moment."  Evaine had a sudden thought and looked up at Alaric with concern.  "I hope you're not feeling like we're keeping you a prisoner in your own tower."

"Better than keeping me a prisoner in my own dungeons," he responded wryly and then hastened to add, "I completely understand.  I would do the same.  I can only imagine the reaction of your people to my sudden appearance dressed as I am.  I know the stir you would create at my Court if you showed up dressed as you are now!"

Evaine looked down at her jeans and gave him a sheepish smile.  "Comfort was my first priority today.  If I might borrow Richard for a bit, we'll bring up lunch."

"Of course.  I'll just make myself at home." 

Richard chuckled and opened the door for his sister.

They were not gone long, returning with three covered serving trays and slightly out of breath.  Duke Dominic had joined them and also carried a wine tote over one shoulder.  He let out a gusty breath as he set his tray down on the table.

"We have a second Portal on the grounds, but we didn't want to use it for fear of disturbing the link that we hope remains in this one.  That's a lot of steps to carry food up."

"One of us," Evaine said wickedly, "has not maintained his fighting trim.  And besides, it would have looked a little odd."

"Careful," Dominic said, patting the wine tote at his side, "or I won't share any of this with you."

"Then it will add to your waistline, brother dear, not mine," Evaine responded with a knowing nod at Richard.  The current Duke of Corwyn was far from overweight, but his middle was a bit thicker than it once was.

"You have a second Portal?" Alaric asked as Evaine and Richard began uncovering platters and arranging the contents around the table.

Dominic hesitated a moment, than nodded.  "Yes.  Let's just say that circumstances at the time required the family to construct it in a less than ideal location.  It's in the tomb of the first Duke Dominic."

"Carrying in a St. Valentine's feast to share with our long dead ancestor would have looked odd," Richard added, "even for us."

"I don't suppose you can share what the circumstances were?" Alaric looked hopeful.

"Definitely not, your Grace," Evaine responded.

Alaric sighed and took a seat at the table, surveying the plate of food set before him.  It looked wholesome enough, but he had no idea what some of it was.

"We now eat from individual plates, rather than communal ones.  I took the liberty of arranging for some foods you won't have tasted before," Evaine explained as she slid her chair in closer to the table.  "You will have had steak before, but this one is served with a mushroom and bourbon sauce."  She pointed to an oblong shape with a white substance piled on top. "This is a baked potato with sour cream and chives.  The yellow vegetable beside it is corn on the cob with butter.  I also added a fresh green salad with oil and vinegar dressing."

"This," Dominic declared as he removed a wine bottle from the tote, "should be more familiar, though the packaging is different.  A nice Fianna red."

"He brought up a Fianna red?" Richard sent to Evaine as their brother uncorked the bottle. 

"He didn't want Duke Alaric to find our hospitality lacking, plus I talked him into it."

Alaric poked a finger at the salad and then looked at the woman beside him incredulously.  "Fresh greens this time of year?"

Richard smiled.  "Yes, Duke Alaric.  We are able to bring in fresh items from lands where the climate is warmer.  The corn comes from New Cassan."

"Richard!" Evaine hissed.

"New Cassan?" Alaric feigned nonchalance, picking up a wedge of tomato from his salad to taste.

"I suppose it would be alright," Evaine sighed. "New Cassan is a land that was discovered across the Atalantic Ocean, several hundred years after your time."  She looked across the table at Dominic. "Even if he wanted to try it, there are few ships built yet that could make it, and I doubt even Duke Alaric could convince anyone to try."

"Why is it called New Cassan?"  Alaric licked a dollop of sour cream off the tip of his index finger.

Evaine responded with an impish smile and stated, "They had to do something with all those extra McArdry-McLain sons, so they sent them off to find more space."

Alaric burst into a laugh, picked up the knife beside his plate and began to cut off a slice of steak.  He stopped, looking askance at Evaine as she inserted a narrow, comb-like object into her meat, apparently to hold it while cutting.  He watched carefully as she used the implement to carry the food to her mouth.  Perhaps only women used such things?  He watched carefully as the other men followed the same ritual.

"It's called a fork, Your Grace," Evaine explained gently.  "It allows for eating with less mess.  It's one reason we no longer need to pass around a water basin during the meal."  Carefully, she demonstrated using the fork to sample the baked potato.

Alaric resolutely picked up his own fork and stuck it in his meat.  After a few careful attempts, he had almost mastered the technique.  He stopped with the fork hovering above his corn on the cob, not quite sure how to approach it.

Dominic reached forward and grasped his own corn with both hands.  "The corn is meant to be eaten with your hands," he said before sinking his teeth into his portion.

"Thank goodness!"

They all laughed.  The conversation turned to general family information.  Dominic produced pictures from his wallet of his wife and two sons, explaining that they were in Rhemuth for the boys' school science trip.  Richard declared that he travelled far too often on the King's business to consider a wife and family yet, but he enjoyed the social aspects of his trips.  Evaine remained silent.

"Duke Dominic," Alaric began, pausing to sniff the bouquet of the fine wine in his glass, "you are a Healer.  How fare Healers now in this time?"

"We've earned the respect of the traditional medical community, though it's been a rough road from time to time.  There still aren't enough of us, which doesn't help." Dominic sipped his wine wistfully.  "We have managed to make considerable progress and are able to Heal at a deeper level than could be achieved previously.  The knowledge is universally shared among all Healers.  We have a duty to our people.  All of them."

Alaric nodded, appreciating the dedication that caused the intensity of Dominic's last statement.  "How many Healers are there now?"

"There are not more than one hundred fifty or so in all of the Eleven Kingdoms.  Torenth still has the highest number, with Gwynedd a close second.  The rest are somewhat evenly distributed in the other Kingdoms.  New Cassan may have fifty."

"We still don't know what makes a Healer," Richard interjected.  "It can be inherited, of course, and there have been many Morgan Healers.  It's not passed to every generation, though, and the talent may disappear in any line for decades.  Sometimes it seems to appear out of nowhere in an individual with no family history of it at all."

"Female Healers remain a rarity," Evaine added. 

"One still hopes whenever a Healer has a child.  Perhaps when my daughter is born...." Dominic stopped at the shocked looks on the faces of his brother and sister.

"Daughter?  What daughter?" they asked in unison.

Dominic beamed at the Morgans seated at the table. "I suppose I forgot to mention that, the other day."

"Now I understand the Fianna," Richard said dryly.

"Congratulations, Your Grace." Alaric stood, raising his glass of wine.  "To the health and safe delivery of your wife and daughter!"

Dominic acknowledged the toast with a nod of his head and accepted a delighted hug from his sister.

"What of you, Lady Evaine?"  Alaric asked after they settled back into their seats.  "You are not yet betrothed or married?"

"No, I am not."

Dominic and Richard exchanged glances as Evaine declined further comment.

"Your pardon, Lady Evaine," Alaric said as the silence continued. 

"I'm sorry, Duke Alaric. I should not have been so abrupt.  I was engaged once, to a weasel, but I ended it when I caught him sleeping with my former best friend."

Alaric Morgan looked shocked.  Whether it was because she had broken her engagement, or whether he actually thought she had intended to marry a small, furry animal, Evaine wasn't sure.  Or perhaps it had been her open admission of this particular weasel's infidelity.

"Diplomacy has never been one of Evaine's gifts," Richard said quietly, "but she wasn't far off the mark."

"It was last year, at about this time," Evaine offered apologetically.  "I'm still angry."

"I understand; there's no need to explain further."  Alaric decided to change the topic.  "How fare Deryni in the Eleven Kingdoms now?"

"Right now, we fare very well," Richard replied.  "We are still few, compared to the general population, but generally we are accepted without much reservation."

"It has not always been the case, though, which is one of the reasons New Cassan has a larger concentration of Deryni," Evaine supplied.

"Would that be a reason for the unfortunate location of the second Portal?" Alaric asked after savouring the last bite of his potato.

"It might be," Evaine acknowledged with a smile.  "Clever try, Duke Alaric."

"Actually, that's a large part of my role as King Donel Rhys's attaché," Richard ventured.  "I need to keep abreast of public sentiment toward our people, be aware of suspected abuses of power.  The greatest concentration of Deryni blood is still in the noble families of the Eleven Kingdoms.  Any abuse of power can put us in a precarious position.  Times have changed; the king no longer wields absolute power.  There have been times when he had no power at all."

Alaric digested this bit of information thoughtfully.

"Isn't Prince Nigel due back from New Cassan soon?" Dominic asked his brother.

"Prince Nigel?" Alaric asked with a slight start.

"Not the Prince Nigel you know, Your Grace," Evaine provided, keeping the tone of her voice carefully neutral.  "He's King Donel Rhys's youngest brother.  He's due back from New Cassan next week."

Evaine's brothers exchanged a glance over the top of her head.

"Prince Nigel has been in New Cassan for the past four years as his Majesty's personal ambassador," Richard supplied.  "Every so often some political faction in New Cassan decides that a kingdom independent of Gywnedd would be in their best interest.  As you can imagine, several other kingdoms think a twelfth kingdom and a reduced Gwynedd would be in their best interests as well."

"Prince Nigel is skilled at putting his best foot forward and showing both Gwynedd and Deryni in the best possible light," Dominic added.  "He's a shrewd negotiator and no man's fool."

Evaine felt it was time to move on, so she produced a small crystal bowl filled with red foil-wrapped, chocolate hearts.  "I hope you saved room for the sweet course, Duke Alaric."

"If you insist, I shall make the effort."  Alaric selected a heart, unwrapped it and studied the chocolate.  He winked at Evaine and popped it into his mouth.  "Delicious," he murmured.  He looked at the message printed inside the wrapper and passed it to Evaine.  "Might you translate this for me?" he asked.

"Of course.  It says, 'Always give her flowers.'"

"Ah, wise advice, to be sure."

Dominic and Richard each shared the messages inside their hearts, both humorous references to sneaking kisses from girlfriends. 

"I don't think I'll follow that advice," Dominic declared with a raised eyebrow.  "I'd like to live to see my daughter born.  What does yours say, Evaine?"

Evaine hesitated for a moment, finally replying, "It says 'You will find true love.'"

"You should listen to your heart, Evaine," Alaric said quietly.

"I think it's time to clear the table," Evaine responded quickly, annoyed that she felt herself blushing.

Part 3 can be found here: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,1039.0.html

[Evie]

Good chapter!  I just wish it came with a video of Alaric learning how to manage a fork.    I hope he met with more success with it than I did the first few times I tried to manage a late medieval (or perhaps early Renaissance?) two-pronged fork with sharp tines.  I jabbed myself in the lips and cheek several times while trying to eat with that thing, until I finally got a feel for how to use the implement.  And of course I'm already used to using forks!  Nice, blunt, four-tined modern forks, that is, with a very different heft and balance....

Of course, Alaric is probably a lot more dexterous than I am, so hopefully he only had one or two slight mishaps before he got the hang of using his.  And at least his wouldn't have sharp tines.  My lips still sting just thinking of my first experience with a late period fork!  

The corn on the cob bit also made me laugh.  I remember a date back in my college years when my boyfriend at the time took me to his sister's and brother-in-law's home for dinner to meet them for the first time.  I don't remember what else we ate that evening, but I do recall that corn on the cob was on the menu, and they ate theirs with knives and forks, using the fork to stabilize the cob while they cut off the kernels with the knife.  I was raised eating corn on the cob by hand (sometimes with little pronged handles stuck into each end to keep fingers clean, but never with a fork and knife), and I didn't want to embarrass myself by trying to learn how to cut kernels off a slippery, revolving corncob while maintaining polite dinner conversation, so I ate everything else on the plate, trying to think of some diplomatic way to avoid the corn until I noticed my boyfriend picking up and eating his by hand.  My cue to dig in without worries of looking gauche...yay!   

[Elkhound]

.  I was raised eating corn on the cob by hand (sometimes with little pronged handles stuck into each end to keep fingers clean, but never with a fork and knife), and I didn't want to embarrass myself by trying to learn how to cut kernels off a slippery, revolving corncob while maintaining polite dinner conversation, so I ate everything else on the plate, trying to think of some diplomatic way to avoid the corn until I noticed my boyfriend picking up and eating his by hand.  My cue to dig in without worries of looking gauche...yay!   

Your then-boyfriend sounds like a very diplomatic person.  There's a story about when King Edward VII was dining with an Indian maharajah or an Arab shiekh at Buckinham Palace.  They were having roast chicken, and the maharajah/shiekh when he finished each piece threw the bones over his shoulder onto the floor.  The other guests looked askance, but His Majesty started throwing HIS chicken bones.  (He later gave the servants charged with cleaning up the room some very nice gifts to make up for the extra work.)

[derynifanatic64]

I wonder if those secret rooms under Grecotha that Camber/Alister found Orin and Jodotha's bodies were found had been rediscovered.  Or if cars and airplanes exist in their 21st century.

[Jerusha]

*coughsPart 3coughs*   

[Laurna]

If they were afraid to show Alaric the electric razor, how on earth (hmm... Gwynedd) are they going to explain an airplane. lol.  However, it is going to be the cellphone that would likely make the most impression. They say the world would be a very different place if people could have instantly communicated.

[Elkhound]

I wonder if those secret rooms under Grecotha that Camber/Alister found Orin and Jodotha's bodies were found had been rediscovered.  Or if cars and airplanes exist in their 21st century.

Perhaps some fighters from the Royal Gwynnedian Air Force will fly over the castle at some point. . .