Work Text:
The Dowager Countess Camille Thandrel walks slowly through her rose garden, leaning heavily on her walking stick and inspecting the blooms that have returned from winter’s frost. She leans over her cane, tugging a stem gently towards her for inspection. In her experience, this looks to be the best year yet. She taps her cane on the stone walkway in self-satisfaction and lets out a small cackle.
She’ll have to invite the Duchess and Lady Blackwood over for tea in the garden.
She allows the young footman, Henson to help her back inside the back door and joins her wife, Countess Adaline in the parlor.
“The roses are blooming beautifully,” Camille says, unable to keep the smugness out of her voice.
Adaline looks over her spectacles at her. “Oh?”
Camille sits on the settee with a relieved sigh. “Yes, we might have the best crop yet this year, I told you bringing that druid in would be worth the time and money.”
Adaline rolls her eyes good-naturedly and goes back to her embroidery. “Shall I send invitations to Blackwood Manor for tea?”
Camille leans on her hand, gazing lovingly at her wife. “I love you so much.”
Adaline snorts. “You love gloating.”
Camille spreads her hands innocently. “Can’t a woman love both?”
Adaline narrows her eyes. “Minx.”
Camille takes a breath to retort when Henson knocks and enters. “A raven for you, milady.”
Camille narrows her eyes at the rolled parchment and takes it as Adaline thanks him. She pulls a dagger out of her boot to open the seal and scans the note. She struggles to her feet and begins to pace, passing the letter off to Adaline’s curious hands.
“A wedding?” Adaline looks up at her.
Camille hums.
Adaline sets the parchment aside with her embroidery, relaxing her perfect posture into the wingback chair as she thinks. “I remember the family. Quite the stir when she married that man.”
Camille hums again pausing to gaze into the fire.
Adaline waits a moment. “I’m familiar enough with the D’arlington family as well. Made a name for themselves in mining.”
Camille taps her cane on the stone floor. “We’re going.”
Adaline humphs. “Well of course we are.”
Camille gestures with her cane. “If we’ve been invited, that means the entire family is invited. Perhaps we can work to get our ridiculous great grandchildren matched and settled while we’re there.”
Adaline tuts and picks up her embroidery again. “I know you’re not calling my great-grandchildren ridiculous.”
Camille purses her lips. “Well Tanyth is ridiculous, you have to admit it. And Rowan is enjoying having all the attention on him rather than actually paying any valuable attention to any of it.”
Adaline stabs her fabric with the needle. “Amalia is beyond repute and you know it.”
Camille huffs. “Fine. Amalia is a gem. But the boys, something must be done.”
Adaline winces. “You saw the scars on Tanyth at the Solstice?”
Camille shakes her head. “I don’t know what that boy has gotten himself into.”
Silence fills the room, the popping of the fire the only sound.
Camille taps her cane on the floor decisively. “We’ll make sure those boys are there.” She looks to the doorway. “Henson! Tell the maids to pack our things and you go ready a carriage.”
Henson appears long enough to bow and disappear again.
Adaline watches her wife, amusement dancing across her face. “We’re going to pick them up?”
“We’re going to pick them up.”