Wulfric had the kitchens prepare a fabulous feast for their triumphant return, and Luther appreciated his butler's foresight and faith. The candle-lit hall housed the long, wide dining table. Servants stood against the walls, ready to attend to each seated diner and keep their water glasses full.
Luther took his place at the head of the table, with Eira and Rhosyn on either side of him. They wore matching dresses in emerald and scarlet, respectively. Both smiled at him as he approached and gestured for him to sit. Rhosyn still might refuse to participate in any necromancy, but he appreciated that their standing had at least improved. She was no longer angry with him, and their romance grew as they overcame it. So long as he didn’t press her or ask her again to teach him her spells, he suspected they would remain on good footing.
Helena had rejoined the world of the wakeful and sat beside Eira, facing an empty chair. Jowangshin would join them soon. Her silver dress was simple in its design, but ornate in its decorations. Its squared neckline framed her generous cleavage. A silver ribbon tied below her breasts, creating a step between them and her stomach as the gown flowed from that ribbon in loose material over her legs.
Dhalia sat beside Helena, across from Emily, in the same black dress she’d worn earlier that day. She looked uncomfortable as she sat, and when Luther met her gaze, she looked away. “I should eat in the kitchens, if it’s–”
“Nonsense,” Luther said. “You are my guest.”
Wulfric would flay him alive if he allowed a guest to eat in the kitchen with the servants.
“You might have borne such inhospitality in the company of the nobles you’ve kept so far,” Luther said, referring to the Duke without speaking his name, though everyone knew who he referred to. “But I couldn’t bear the shame of mistreating a guest that way. My father would descend from heaven and cuff my ear.”
The girls, except Dahlia, giggled.
“To mention nothing of what Wulfric would do to you,” Eira said, as if she knew what he was about to say next.
“Just so,” Luther chuckled as he sat and glanced at the servants nearby, whose amused smiles suggested they agreed. “Such fine dresses,” Luther said, admiring the clothes they wore - a far cry from the battle regalia they’d donned that morning.
“Such a fine suit,” Eira answered with a smile.
“How are you feeling, Helena?” Luther asked before sipping the glass of water before him.
“Well, thank you,” Helena said, but covered her mouth as she yawned without opening her mouth, making her eye twitch subtly. “If tired.”
Luther grinned as the servants set the first course, a pumpkin and squash soup that was as delicious as it was hearty and warming. His table manners were improving with every dinner, though for once he wasn’t the worst-mannered pig at the trough.
Dahlia looked supremely uncomfortable, ate as though she were in a tavern, and looked embarrassed the whole time. She tried to mirror the poise and grace of the women around her, but lacked the practice and struggled to learn the dance's movements from her eyes alone.
“Dahlia told me what you did for me,” Helena said, looking at Luther. “Perhaps I can thank you after dinner?”
“If you wish,” Luther said, “But it was only my duty as your husband.”
“Then you should have no difficulty accepting my duty as your wife,” Helena said, grinning as Eira and Rhosyn giggled at her.
Emily appeared supremely flustered, but kept her eyes on her soup.
“Would that be alright?” Luther asked, looking past Helena at Dahlia. “Has she healed enough in your opinion for a… sparring match?”
Dahlia looked surprised and frightened to find a nobleman addressing her during the meal. She lowered her spoon into her shallow bowl, clinking against its rim and wincing at the chime. “Uh, yes, your lordship, sir. Though if you intend to spar, you should take care and ease into it, or she might pull a muscle or tendon unintentionally.”
Luther chuckled, grinning. “Do you hear that, Helena? You’ll have to take it easy and let me do most of the work this time. We wouldn’t want you to sustain any injury from our time together.”
Dahlia’s eyes shot wide as the girlish giggles around the table illuminated the meaning she’d missed in the initial question.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to make any innuendo, I thought–well, never mind–please forgive me, my lord, my lady.” Her cheeks blushed crimson, and she gobbled her soup as if hoping to drown herself in it.
Luther shook his head and dabbed his lips with a napkin before speaking. “I’m afraid we’re not much for propriety or hierarchy here. You may call me Luther, if you wish.”
“Yes, your lordship,” Dahlia said, as if both accepting and defying his suggestion.
“Careful, Wuflric will put you in your place if you defy convention too much,” Rhosyn said, frightening Dahlia more, but speaking to Luther, not her.
Luther laughed. “Oh, I’m sure he would. I’m a rather poor lord in manners. My expertise is in the open road.”
Jowangshin entered the dining hall just as they were finishing the soup. The peach-colored silk robe she wore was long and flowing. It fastened at her waist with a tie and sash, but she wore nothing beneath it, as evidenced by its opening dipping between her breasts to show her chiseled stomach, and the slit reaching from the floor to the top of her toned legs. Her washed hair was still damp, and down across her back, a curtain of night that framed her soft, unembellished face. Her nipples poked through the thin silk at her breasts, even as she pulled the opening of her robe more closed as she approached.
“Forgive me,” Jo said, her voice exhausted and thin. “I forgot we had guests.”
“It’s no problem,” Luther said, gesturing for her to sit. “I’ve already explained my dislike for formalities in my home.”
Jo gave Luther a small, grateful smile and sat in the empty chair reserved for her between Emily and Rhosyn. She offered a brief, silent prayer over her food, then took the bowl with both hands and drank it in a series of steady swallows. She turned rosy at the blooming warmth spreading through her, and relaxed into her chair.
“Did the rites go well?” Luther asked.
Jo nodded. “But I am tired from singing, forgive me if I do not speak much.”
Helena looked between Jo and Luther, verifying that everything was okay, but she didn’t need to worry. Luther blew Jo a kiss, and Jo blew him one in return, before taking Rhoysn’s hand on the table as the servants came and cleared their empty dishes away for the next course.
Dinner progressed in a relaxed, informal style despite their guests, who Luther presumed felt more at home for it. Dahlia relaxed as time went on, content that he wasn’t going to fly into a rage at her lack of manners or toss her from his manor to trek home on foot in the dead of night.
“With Helena doing well, will you need my services much longer, my lord?” Dahlia asked. “I have my clinic to attend to.”
“If you're confident she won’t require your services,” Luther said, nodding. “I can arrange for a carriage to take you home in the morning? Unless you’d prefer to leave tonight.”
“You may need to let someone attend you,” Dahlia said, speaking to Helena directly. “Even with your arcanum, it will take you some time to retrain your regrown muscles.”
Helena nodded, without complaint about the work ahead. “I’m sure my maid will be up to the task,” Helena said.
“Then the morning would be fine, your lordship,” Dahlia said, speaking once more to Luther.
Luther nodded and gestured to one of the servants, who left to relay the message to Wulfric, who would see it done. When he returned, it was time for the next course.
The cod for the fish course was rich and flaky, delectable against his tongue. It reminded Luther of his time at sea, eating such creatures by roasting them on a stick over the fire or drying and salting them atop the waves.
The conversation turned to a summary of their battle against Lucas and Branan, and Luther listened to compile the perspectives. Emily had a bird’s-eye view of the action from the stands and was able to comment on what the nobles seated around her thought of the moments in the fight.
The consensus was that the Le Fey clan was mightier than expected, and Luther especially was a brutal, unpredictable trickster mage. Some considered trickery to be the tool of the cowardly or meek, but Luther had proved that its use in the hands of the mighty had the power to unseat champions.
“I expect some will seek to follow your example,” Emily said, finishing her cod on her fork. She swallowed and sipped her drink. “You’ve started a fashion, I think, and the next few challenges among the nobility will no doubt involve more subterfuge and trickery than before.”
Luther swirled his glass absent-mindedly, then sipped it. “I don’t think I did anything particularly tricky in this combat, but cleverness is a weapon those with a sword often forget. Power can make brutes of us all, unless we keep our heads.”
In the next course, roasted sweetbreads were a food he was not familiar with but thoroughly enjoyed. Although everyone agreed they were delicious, the others didn’t seem as impressed with such typical fare as Luther. What was common in the valley was rare outside it.
“So, what are everyone’s plans for the next few days?” Luther asked.
“Training,” Helena answered immediately. “I need to be in fighting shape as soon as possible.”
“Meditation,” Eira said, glancing at Luther to convey her meaning beyond the word. She intended to look ahead and plot their best course.
“I intended to ask if I might aid you in the offices,” Rhosyn said, looking at Luther with a shy glance. “I know you wished to take a journey, and I thought I might ask if I could stay behind to run things in your absence.”
“Not a bad idea,” Luther admitted.
“If we have time before our departure, I thought I might resume my duties at the temple,” Jowangshin said, though she wasn’t asking permission.
Luther nodded his approval anyway. “We have some time. I expect it will be a few weeks before I am ready to journey into the mountains.”
“You’re going into the mountains, my lord?” Dahlia asked, confused. “Shouldn’t you hire someone to do that for you?”
Luther smiled. It would be more appropriate for him to employ someone like Branan, but no. This potential discovery was too personal to entrust to anyone else.
“It’s a personal matter,” Luther said. “A riddle of sorts that my father left me, which I intend to solve.”
“Ah,” Dahlia said, still confused, but too embarrassed at her own interjection to press the matter further.
“I thought I might spend some time in the library,” Emily said, joining the conversation. “Perhaps I can oversee the addition of my brother’s collection to your own?”
“Yes, I don’t see why not,” Luther said. “It’ll spare the servants having to go into the library.”
Luther’s wives exchanged glances, and Rhosyn’s voice whispered at the edge of Luther’s awareness.
“Criella is in the library,” Rhosyn whispered, telepathically.
“I know,” Luther answered back in his mind. “As does Emily. It is okay. She is with us.”
Surprise lit the faces of his wives one by one as Rhosyn conveyed the message to each of them mind-to-mind. Some eyes glanced at Emily, but looked away again, or at Luther with concern. It was a dangerous secret for Emily to hold, but she was their guest. They had to trust her, for now.
A small meat pie served as the next course. Seasoned venison inside, joined by the flaky outer crust, created an exquisite blend of flavors.
“I still can’t believe the duke and their spouses were so inhospitable toward us,” Helena said, frowning as she ate. “Branan was so uncouth, how could they favor him?”
“The duke has some uncouth advisors among his spouses,” Luther answered, not elaborating. “But don’t worry, they’re not as unified as we are.”
“Their behavior was nothing short of abominable,” Emily said, her tone cutting.
Dahlia nodded her agreement, then stopped herself. Luther grinned. It was good to know that she agreed, but he didn’t reprimand her for not badmouthing her more consistent patron. Still, he was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who thought the duke and their spouses' behaviors were untenable.
“How long do you think we can avoid the duke?” Rhosyn asked, looking at Eira.
Eira shrugged. “A while, I’d imagine. I expect he won’t try to out-trick Luther again. If he brings a grievance against us, it’ll be direct.”
Everyone nodded at that, but there weren’t any further comments to make unless Eira chose to use her magic to look into the future. Without that surety, it was still likely that they’d see more of the duke eventually, even if Luther hoped to postpone that inevitability for as long as possible. Perhaps they’d send the Duke a wedding invitation after they restored Criella.
Cherry tarts came next, sweet and pointed in their taste even as the soft, baked pastries filled Luther’s stomach. It put everyone in a much more pleasant mood as they enjoyed the sweet cherries.
“Callista’s been complaining of the duke’s spouses in her letters,” Emily said, venturing to broach the subject once more. “Apparently, some of them have fallen ill. Have you heard any such news?” Emily asked, looking at Dahlia.
“It would be a breach of my station to comment on such matters, my lady,” Dahlia answered.
“An honorable denial,” Luther said. “It wouldn’t be right for you to comment on such things. You’ll simply have to take your friend at her word, Miss Burville.”
Emily nodded, returning her attention to the tart. “Forgive me for asking.”
“Of course,” Dahlia said, distracted by the cherries as she closed her eyes in bliss.
The servants brought the main course on plates, laying the roast duck before each guest and serving Luther last, as was the tradition. Luther couldn’t imagine eating so well a month ago, and knew he’d have to up his training regimen or risk growing slothful.
“My lord, what do you plan to do about the valley?” Eira asked. “Your father had some projects still in process when he passed. Will we continue them?”
“Of course,” Luther said. “I have to meet with a few prominent members of the town, but I’m sure we should be able to resume any unfinished improvements as soon as possible.”
“Do you not expect many challenges then?” Dahlia asked, surprising herself at speaking, but not taking the question back.
Luther grinned. “I think we’ve established some peace and stability for a while. With luck, the valley will prosper.”
“What would you do if you could initiate an improvement of your own?” Helena asked, looking at Luther.
Luther considered the question as he ate, thinking over the possibilities. He’d seen some of his father’s plans and writing in the offices. He’d have to take a more direct role in the work now that Criella couldn’t shoulder the burden.
“I think I’d invest in manuscript reproduction and printing. We could turn the school in the town into a college, with enough effort,” Luther said. “If we expand the school’s library and attract a few scholars for teaching, we might be able to do something with it. Starting small, of course.”
Emily straightened in her chair. “I’d be very interested to get involved with that, if you’re serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” Luther asked. “I find education and reading to be vital for enlightenment. Such an investment can only lead to improvements for the town and its folk.”
“I agree,” Emily said, smiling.
After the main course, the potato course arrived with baked halves hollowed out and filled with mashed potatoes, chives, onions, and sour cream. It was rustic, perhaps, but delicious, and not a soul at the table declined their portion.
“We could perhaps start an academy,” Emily said.
“Raefendale Academy has a nice ring to it, I dare say,” Luther said, looking at his wives for approval.
Eira and Rhosyn approved, as did Jo. Helena shrugged.
“You can’t neglect those who’d want to train in something other than the scholarly arts,” Helena said. “Not everyone is suited to sitting around all day reading.”
“Don’t worry,” Luther said. “I agree with moderation, but I think it’d be a good start. And attendance would of course be voluntary. Trades ought to be taught as well, and swordsmanship, spellcraft, and other arts.”
“Doesn’t sound like moderation to me,” Jowangshin said, but she wasn’t rejecting his ideas either. “You’re speaking more in results than in first steps, my husband. You need to focus on the start of things, not their ending.”
“You’re right, I’m sure,” Luther said. “I do sometimes allow my goals to outgrow my reach.”
Jowangshin scoffed, but nodded her agreement before she drank some of her water. She was perhaps thinking of other goals than creating an academy in the town. Luther didn’t blame her. He was a dreamer at heart. Alas, there was nothing he could do about that. Criella had always been the more realistic, and that had only led him to yearn to do the impossible. Or, if not impossible, what had never been done before. But what of that? His arcana was an impossibility, and yet, it was a reality.
Once you achieved one impossible dream, the next seemed closer to earth than ever before. His wives might think his dream of restoring Criella was impossible, but Luther could no longer agree with anyone on the boundaries of magic after crossing them himself. He only had to make the others realize that they didn’t know the boundaries of possibility any more than they knew what lay beyond the stars. Yet that task would take longer than a single meal.
“It would benefit the town, though,” Emily said, still encouraging the idea of an academy. “But we will have to start small. We wouldn’t have enough staff to teach every subject anyway.”
“We?” Helena asked. “That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it?”
Emily blushed, accepting the verbal smack and reminder that she was a guest, not a wife.
“Are you of a mind to join our union now that the danger has passed?” Eira asked, looking at Emily.
“I am a friend of your clan,” Emily said. “I hope I have always proven that I am at least that.”
“Yes,” Luther agreed. “You’ve proven that. I’m sure everyone understands that you did not wish to fight and kill your brother. It was, perhaps, proper for you to sit that fight out, even if your testimony was essential in forcing the duke to honor the challenge.”
Eira and Rhosyn exchanged a glance and set their forks on the table in unison after finishing their potatoes. The servants swiftly exchanged the potato plates for the final dessert: lemon cakes with red-and-white buttercream icing. Paired with a sweet honey wine, the last course silenced most conversation, as Luther and the others savored the taste.
“The meal was quite delicious,” Dahlia said after the meal. “Thank you for allowing me to dine with you.”
“Of course,” Luther said. “Wulfric has prepared a room for you?”
“Yes, my lord, thank you. It’s a lovely room with a view of the gardens,” Dahlia said.
Luther nodded. “Good. Shall we retire to the parlor for drinks?”
“Oh, if it pleases you, my lord, I’m afraid I’m rather full and exhausted from the work of the day. Might I excuse myself and retire?” Dahlia asked.
“Of course,” Luther gestured to the doorway, and a servant stepped forward to help Dahlia from her seat.
She seemed unsure of what to do, but followed their lead. She curtsied to the table before leaving, and Luther rose and bowed.
“I’m rather sleepy myself,” Emily said, swallowing.
“We are all exhausted,” Jo said. “We should retire to our chambers for the evening. Wind down. There will be time for work tomorrow.”
Luther nodded. Looking around the table, he could see the satisfaction and sleepiness that came with a full stomach, good drinks, and a long and exhausting day after days of preparation and training. They’d been through the hell of battle and needed their rest.
“Agreed,” Luther said. “I expect I’ll sleep well once my head hits the pillow.”
Emily rose from her chair and curtsied. “Until tomorrow, then, my lord. My ladies.” She took her departure, leaving Luther alone with his wives, minus Criella.
“Would you all join me in my bed tonight?” Luther asked. “We’ve made some progress in recovery, I think, and I wouldn’t mind the opportunity to restore the strength of our union after spending so much of it today.”
“Oh, that tired old excuse,” Helena said, teasing him. “If you want to fuck me, just say so, husband. I’m healed enough for that, at least.”
Eira and Rhosyn laughed, and even Jo smiled, though she shook her head with disbelief at Helena’s crass manner. Luther didn’t deny or confirm Helena’s accusation, but let his laughter join theirs before setting his napkin on the table.
Together, the Le Fey clan rose from the table, and the servants cleared the hall as Luther and his wives departed for their apartments. They held hands in the halls and on the stairs, with Eira and Rhosyn on either side of Luther, Helena on Eira’s side, and Jo on Rhosyn’s. No one said a word, or needed to. The silence between them was comfortable, and they were united in their peace together.
Luther couldn’t help but miss the presence of their missing member, but she was haunting the library, and she’d rejoin them soon enough. For now, he’d be content that his wives loved him, despite their disagreements, and that Criella was still among them, soon to return.
The fire in the fireplace warmed the apartment, and despite being the first to enter, Luther closed the door behind them, shutting out the guests, the servants, and the world. Tonight, his focus was entirely on restoring the bond between himself and his wives.
There would be time for other, less pleasurable, work tomorrow.