Page 24 of Brave Truth

There were a dozen different things Matthew wanted to ask. “Your parents— who I mostly know about solely from the papers and such— seem to have had particular ideas about how things should be done. And what you should do? You didn’t start as a Penelope, you’ve said that.”

“I am sure that Father is rolling in his grave about it. And it took me quite a while— a year and some— to get my head around the idea, honestly. To take the offer seriously. Partly because of that. Mother threw fits, but I didn’t give her much of a chance to do it at me. Gabe asked us to join him to help triage various sites in Germany and France, and made my apprenticing to him part of the arrangement. I told Mother two days before we left. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t stop me.”

Matthew considered that for a long moment. “My mother has ideas about what I ought to do with myself. Dad, too. But not quite as, um. Expansive on the ambitions?”

“Two Fox House parents certainly would produce an abundance of ambition. Even without everything else my parents are and were,” Claudio agreed. He seemed a hair haunted by it, honestly. “What do your parents want from you?” Matthew made note of that precise choice of words— from, not for. It was telling and accurate, both.

“For me to settle down and marry. I can’t see that happening. Can’t imagine doing that to some poor woman. Honestly, I wouldn’t be able to offer much except a decent, stable job.” Matthew said it again before he realised that was probably a sore spot for Claudio. “Beg pardon. I know you were married.”

“Actually, I was thinking it’s an excellent example of why following that sort of obligation doesn’t do anyone much good. I don’t regret my children, not one bit. And Electra did her part, more than. But we lived very separate lives even before the war. Other than the parts about actually making the children happen, or the necessary parenting bits. We’re both much happier to be divorced. She can spend her time in philanthropy without worrying about whether I’ll be around. Neither of us has to pretend to feel things we don’t.” He glanced at Matthew, then considered before adding a little more, quietly. “It was all arranged while I was still an apprentice. Father was desperate to make sure the family line continued. You’ve certainly read the comments about his marriages.”

“And that your mother had you. After your father’s first two wives were set aside for a lack of children.” Certain things were in fact quite easy to find, especially for someone who knew how to find the gossipy bits of the profiles after Hesperidon Warren’s death. “Mum will get used to disappointment eventually, I suppose. I don’t come from the sort of family where marriage has dynastic obligations.” Claudio snorted, and that sound made Matthew brave enough to ask. “What was it like growing up with that?”

“Oh, gods.” Claudio shook his head. “People assume, almost no one asks. Orion mostly doesn’t need to. His father was on the Council before him. It’s an odd perspective, growing up near that sort of power and the decisions people make. But not having all the information or, of course, any actual say in any of it. No one wanted my opinion either.”

Matthew opened his mouth, closed it, then cocked his head. “But you have opinions.”

“Oh, yes.” Then Claudio laughed, a bit of open delight at something that Matthew was sure he didn’t show the world often. At least not outside a small and select group that might just be coming to include Matthew himself. Possibly. “The actual topic isn’t something I can get into here, but while we were in Germany, Gabe asked me a question that— well. All my opinions came pouring out. All night, we were up until dawn and Orion knocking, worried because I’d never come to bed. We were sharing a room. You know how it was, not much space, and he and I’ve never minded sharing. We don’t get on each other’s nerves.”

Matthew did, in fact, have questions about that, and how they’d figured that out. He was fairly sure that there wasn't any subtext there, but he didn’t actually know. It wasn’t like it was possible to ask if there were other sorts of intimacies. And for that matter, it wasn’t like Matthew knew how to measure different kinds of intimacies.

Claudio and Lord Orion Sisley were clearly the kind of tangled close that Matthew had always wanted and never had. But was there a difference between best friends, brothers, people who’d fought together against some great evil wrong with the world, or twined magic, and something like sex? He had no idea. No one talked about that kind of thing, not anywhere Matthew had ever heard it. Even here, in Urania’s Apples, people went off together, or took one of the upstairs rooms without a fuss, but they didn’t talk about what it was like after.

Now he considered what he could ask about. “Because you’d had a sense of how things worked, even if you weren’t on the Council?” Claudio nodded. “The history’s got to be something interesting, now you put it like that. The patterns behind decisions?” He felt like he was flailing in the dark, but Claudio’s face lit up.

“Oh, yes. Let’s see if I can think of an example that’s public enough to talk about. Something where I could confirm bits independently.” He tapped his fingers on the table several times, another glimpse at what he was like when he wasn’t perfectly controlled. “Ah, here’s one. 1927. Lancashire. Now, my father had— this is one of his more reasonable takes, mind— an extreme distaste for anything like factories spewing pollution. Didn’t matter the kind of factory, didn’t matter what it made. That year saw the opening of the last cotton mills in Lancashire, but do you remember the winter?”

“A big storm at the end of October, my second year.” He did remember it. There’d been worries about flooding in the caves and lower reaches of the Keep. Then they’d heard about the damage all along the west coast of Wales and up into northern England and Scotland.

That got Claudio off on a five-minute description of exactly how many things that had disarranged, how much damage to various of the magical communities. He didn’t ever quite specify, but Matthew was clear he was talking broadly about the ecology and communities involved somehow, far beyond what might appear on an ordinary census.

What fascinated him— well, one of the things— the more he listened was how precisely Claudio was laying out the various relevant factors. Not just the flooding, or the impact on key materia sources, but also the way different people on the Council had reacted to it. There were telling little details there, about one person’s reaction or priority, even though Claudio had, in fact, been busy with his apprenticeship the entire time.

At the end, Claudio blinked, visibly realised he’d been talking for an age, and then flushed. “Pardon. You should have stopped me ages ago.”

“No, I shouldn’t have. I enjoyed listening to how you laid it all out. The different pieces.” Then, unfortunately, his tongue got away from his teeth again. “Have you ever considered Challenging for a Council seat? You must have.” He could see immediately that it was the wrong question. Everything about Claudio’s expression froze. He put his hands up. “Sorry. You must hate that question.”

Claudio let out a long breath. “Most people don’t even ask it, actually. They just assume.” He looked away, over Matthew’s shoulder. “Mother assumes I will, sometime.”

Matthew noticed this did not actually answer the question at all, but he certainly wasn’t going to prod at it. Instead, he tried for some other change of topic. “Um. That book you recommended last week? I haven’t started it yet, but maybe tomorrow. Could you give me a rundown on the bit of history that’ll help me appreciate it better?”

That at least got Claudio relaxing a bit again. It was something relating to the Wars of the Roses, and Claudio drew on explanations— cited to Orion and conversations over the years— about the various personalities. That made sense, since he’d recommended it in part because he found the descriptions there of how to get a number of strong-willed people with their own ambitions and ideas of how to do things roughly pointed in the same direction. Certainly, that seemed relevant to Matthew’s professional life, even more than it was to Claudio’s.

By the time they wrapped up, fifteen minutes later, the pub was getting crowded. They parted ways on the street, Claudio offering an amiable wave as he set off for Portal Square.

Chapter 17

Friday, April 21st

“Pardon, do you have a moment?” Claudio knocked on Matthew’s door. Getting permission to come up here had been easy, since the woman on duty knew him on sight. She’d almost certainly assumed it was some sort of Penelope business, which it was, twice over. The door had been open, which made this easier and harder.

Matthew started visibly, then cleared his throat. “Yes? Yes. More than one.” Then he took in Claudio, dressed for the outdoors, satchel over his shoulder. “Is something the matter?”

“I wanted to tell you I almost certainly won’t be at the meeting Tuesday. Getting called out to the wilds of Northumberland. Or the Scottish Borders. Both, probably, in some sort of sequence.” Good grief, he was babbling. “Going at least twenty miles from the nearest portal, and it’s rough ground for a lot of it. Horses can only go so fast.”

“Of course you ride,” Matthew said it under his breath, but Claudio had well-trained ears and good hearing. His mouth quirked up, and Matthew grimaced.

“I do. Enough to be workmanlike about it. I know much better riders. Gabe, for one. Anyway, we’re almost certainly going to be gone until at least next Wednesday, possibly longer. I’ll copy out my notes on the current stage of the saffron debate from my side when I get a chance. Tonight or tomorrow.”