"Ma…Mama" Fiona was cradled in her mother's arms, watching her mother wipe away her tears, and she felt the stirrings of affection for her. This woman truly is my mother. She felt a wave of strangeness wash through her. Who… am I? But she didn't have time to ponder the question because she suddenly realized everyone was looking at her. Wha? What did I do?
"Her first words," Her mother whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again.
"Ayy," her father rushed over, his seriousness melting into affection. "Can you say Dada? Da Da?" He poked a finger at her little hand, making faces. Fiona was suddenly immensely embarrassed. Can't he take himself a little more seriously… I could've just died… Fiona purposefully rolled her head a little away from him and made a series of unrelated sounds to spite him. "ahh, fsss" she put her fist in her mouth. It's almost like laughing. She thought and then suddenly started giggling for real.
"Oh look she's giggling, how cute!" Her mother and father oowed and awed over her for the next twenty minutes, as Fiona gradually forgot about the terror she had just gone through, and started enjoying just a little bit the presence of her new family. Her mother accompanied her the rest of the day. Her father seemed to wish to as well, but under the guidance of his attendants reluctantly returned back to his work.
When night fell the servants moved Fiona's crib into her mother's room, and Ava spent the night by her side, waking whenever she woke, and slowly rocking the cradle until they both fell back asleep. For Fiona, who had been more scared than she realized, that night felt like peace.
"Do you think I'm too stupid for this job, Gourmand?" The earl was sitting at his desk in his study, his black hair clenched between his hands as he stared down at the desk in despair. "Do you think I can protect them? Protect her?"
"There's no more accomplished mage in Chaplan, m'Lord." Gourmand replied standing by his side.
"Oh please sit, Gourmand. I hate when you stand on formalities with me, especially in situations like these."
The austere Gourmand looked like he was going to protest, but seeing the tragic air of the earl, decided to acquiesce, sitting down in one of the chairs opposite him.
"You've supported me all these years, do you ever have any doubt about your choice? Surely I wasn't the only noble who made offers on you when Felix went down?"
"No sir, Lord Felix always spoke very highly of you, and my time here has only deepened my respect for you."
"Ahh, Gourmand," the earl said in frustration. "How many times have you been the one to save me from getting stabbed in the back? Without you we'd all be dead men years ago. Why do you have to insist on standing on ceremony when I'm far more your friend than your employer."
Gourmand opened his mouth and then reconsidered. "I'm very glad you treat me as your friend… Lord Avery, but I…My habit is speaking and acting thus, I hope it doesn't offend you. It…requires more effort for me to speak freely with someone above my station."
Avery looked at his friend suddenly touched. He was used to complaining about this kind of thing, but this was the first time Gourmand had made such an effort to acquiesce. "Well, thank you for making the effort." His voice was suddenly hoarse. "ahem. It's not like blood really means that much in this damned country anymore. Every day it feels like the situation grows more perilous."
"Indeed the situation has grown quite fraught with danger. I think with Duke Embras' ambitions and the arrogance and unpopularity of the prince-regent there's a serious risk of impending civil war. And without the restrictions of the Ambrionic code, the war will probably be very devastating. Who knows if the kingdom could even survive carnage of that magnitude?"
"Why didn't that damn Ambrose ever think of restricting civil wars? If it comes down to it the kingdom will implode, and Olivander and Primrose will just be picking up the pieces! Olivander's already yapping at her heels for war with the dead prince. Our situation's too damn unstable!"
Gourmand sighed. "That's why I don't think Duke Embras will openly declare his insurrection. He's trying to maneuver behind the scenes to silence his opposition before they get the chance to stand on the battlefield against him."
"Is that why they're coming after Fiona. Are they trying to blackmail me into supporting the duke?"
Gourmand rubbed his hands together on his lap, pondering the question. "I don't think so. It's certainly a possibility. And, in fact, I think that first assassin probably was sent from Duke Embras' faction as a possible probe. But this latest attack doesn't have that same feel. If it was their faction I think Fiona would have been kidnapped or the blood curse would have been far worse. And it doesn't seem like we broke the veil in time to actively disrupt the perpetrator's plans."
"Then who could it be? Do we really have that many enemies?"
"Have you heard… of the Golden Madonna?"
"Madame, there's really no need to worry," Ava was up early in the morning pacing back and forth next to her desk. "Doctor Vaba has looked over her, and it doesn't seem like it's anything too harmful. I'm sure the earl and his men are doubly vigilant about her safety now and they should be able to protect her."
"Thank you Elise. That will be all for now." Her maid, Elise looked reluctant to go, worry still darkening her face, but she sighed and left Lady Ava to herself.
Once Elise was out of the room, Ava looked at the door for a few more seconds, before abruptly turning and saying with a wave of her hand "Enella." A silent veil of magic suddenly fell over her and her desk, muting sounds.
She sat down and quickly pulled out a piece of paper and a pen.
In dark red ink she began to write. "Madame, we have a problem."