Page 45 of Apple Boy

“Raolin and Aric come down immediately and take a seat. We have much to discuss.” The chairwoman voiced, stern and matronly. At once, as if they had lost themselves in the joy of flight in such a vast chamber and felt the reprimand of the chairwoman, the Lovebirds swooped down heading straight for us. I could not help but smile as I felt Adam flinch beside me.

“Apologies, apologies,” Mr. Percheval squawked as he and his partner came into land on the back of the chair directly beside my uncle. Ivon extended a finger and Mr. Wrenfrey hopped on. I found it touching that my uncle raised his hand to his face and Mr. Percheval rubbed his feathered cheek against Ivon’s in greeting. Then the bird hopped to settle beside his partner on the chair back.

“Can we now begin?” The chairwoman said dryly, when no one dared to respond she announced, “Step forward Lord Ivon Aeling of Thorn.”

Ivon stood and stepped forward to stand on a circle in the mosaic floor design. Directly above him was the intriguing moon window.

“Councilors, Madame De Belamine,” He addressed, bowing to the assembled audience.

“I extend my deepest apologies that I could not be more forthcoming in my missive, but I’m sure you understand that these are troubling times and we must be careful.” The councilors nodded in agreement. “I am grateful that you have fixed to meet at such short notice.”

“Do you have news?” Madame De Belamine asked.

“I do. I have received very good news and also grave tidings—”

It came to me then that I knew the chairwoman’s name. I searched my thoughts for a moment and of course! I recalled where I’d heard that name, De Belamine before. It was as uncle had told during our journey; the chairwoman was named Alisandre De Belamine. Mr. Elliot, the head butler at Copperdall said that the family who owned CopperdallHouse was named De Belamine, and they vanished years ago. Madame De Bellamine must be the only member of her family remaining in the city. I wondered why she did not want to live in her family home. I supposed that with all of those eerie portraits of long-dead ancestors staring down, the memories were probably too painful. Leasing the mansion to a member of the gentry was better than letting such an intriguing house lie empty and decay.

“As you know,” Ivon began tremulously “The Royal Osian galleon The Trojan Star did not make port in Serein as expected. The ship has been missing for weeks. My nephew Winter Aeling, Count of Skraedig was granted passage upon that vessel by Fabian and Kristoff Von Harte, and he was due to spend time in Serein as an ambassador to Thorn. We feared that my beloved nephew was lost with that ship, and in grief, I joined forces with you sending one of my ships out to search for The Trojan Star.” The scribe dipped his pen and wrote furiously to keep up. “Well, I have news that will astound and pose many difficult questions”, Ivon announced flamboyantly.

“The young blond man you see before you—” Ivon said, turning, and flourishing a hand in my direction, “—is my nephew, Winter Aeling”.

There were audible gasps of incomprehension as I was introduced to the council.

“The Trojan Star has been located?” Madam de Belamine asked anxiously.

“Sadly, no, not to my knowledge.”

“But. This is impossible! How could this young man be Winter Aeling if the Trojan Star has not yet been found?” Madame de Belamine said incredulously, and then turning her shrewd dark eyes to addressed me directly she asked,

“Young man, are you truly Winter Aeling?”

Awkwardly, I rose from my chair and stepped forward to stand beside my uncle. “Yes, Madam De Belamine, I am.”

“Then, as your uncle has insinuated, we have a tale to be told.” She said, leaning forward and clasping her hands together on the desk in front of her. I nodded and waited for my cue to begin my tale, but Madam De Belamine spoke on,

“As we have not met and you are new to the city we should introduce ourselves. I am Alisandre de Belamine, chair of the Great Council and Eminent of the University.” She turned her head and nodded to the woman sitting at her far right. The red robed, dark-skinned woman wore her silky straight black hair loose past her shoulders, and she possessed the bluest eyes I’d ever seen in my life. The woman set her azure gaze on me, and I near felt myself pitching forward and falling into those cerulean pools.

“Well met, my Lord. I am Gilda Crowport; it is an honor to meet the heir apparent of Thorn”, she said, her tone of voice deep and alluring. It felt as though that voice sent out invisible tendrils to push into my chest.

“Charmed, my lady,” I replied dazedly, offering her a courteous bow. It took me a moment to pull my attention away from her and focus on the man sitting to the left of GildaCrowport.

This man appeared the most aged of the council members. He had a lean, lived-in face and shoulder-length black and silver hair tied in a queue. His dark brown eyes were somehow cold, and I immediately felt uneasy when our gazes met, as if I had been judged and found wanting. I could not explain the feeling that compelled me to fall to my knees and seek forgiveness for; I knew not what!

”Featherwin Rainster. Head justice,” he said his voice raspy and gentrified. Of course, he was thejustice. I felt guilty even looking at the man but resisted the urge to kneel before him. I lowered my head a little in a nod of acknowledgment but said nothing for fear my words would be taken and twisted. I did not know where this fear came from.

The man seated beside Rainster appeared to be the youngest member of the council. He looked less than thirty summers, but it may have been his boyish, ethereal face and glistening amber eyes that made him look so young. He had a playful, comely set to him and the glint in his eye as he took my measure made me wonder if he did not favor boys. He introduced himself as Bowe Copperstone, and he flattered me by adding in a light, effervescent timber,

“It’s an immense pleasure to meet you Lord Winter Aeling. I have heard many fine things about you from friends in Thorn.” His eyes caressed me, and a telling smirk played on his lips.

“I am so very glad you were not lost at sea, for your loss would be one felt by us all,” his eyes sparkled devilishly. I was sure I had never met this man before and wondered who his Thornian friends were. His assertion that my death would be felt by all was surprising. Heat rose to tarnish my cheeks. I was embarrassed by such a declaration; after all, my lover was a mere ten steps away witnessing an extremely inappropriate flirtation.

To the left of Madame De Belamine sat a brawny man who, when standing, I recalled was short of stature, just reaching to the chairwoman’s shoulder height. He appeared to be in or around his fortieth summer. His complexion was grizzled, and a short prickly beard covered his broad, square set jaw. Deep brown eyes reflected the opalescent light from the moon window above. The stare he gave me meant business.

“Marcus Mortdel. Captain of the Cardinals.” He announced a serious tone to his timbre, and then on seeing a brow rise he added, “The city guards, my Lord. My guards wear red cloaks and are commonly known as Cardinals”, he offered in explanation.

“Ah, yes. That was one of your men who pulled a sword on us at the gate”, I said, unable to hold my tongue. I felt my uncle shift awkwardly beside me.

“The city is on alert. I am sure my guard was just following orders… my lord.” Mortdel replied his eyes pinning me murderously. I did not mean to single him out for public humiliation, but I felt that the actions of the guard had been presumptuous and I knew Ivon was also furious about having the weapon thrust inside our carriage.