Lady of Silences

Typhan

The Marquise of Rhounet let her hand drape idly across the railing as she descended the stairs of Portho House. The guests thronging below were chatting merrily in loud, boisterous voices, and their buzzing ebullience raised her spirits. As she reached the end of the stairs she pulled her arms in, murmuring 'Pardon me' to several ladies as she passed behind their skirts. Why the current fashion was to emphasize the posterior with ridiculous bustles, she would never know. And why she had allowed Dahlia to put her in such a gown was even more uncertain. She felt as if she might topple over backwards at any moment, but Dahlia pronounced her "Stunning!" when she finished and so she tried not to let her discomfort show.

Unfortunately, making her way through the crowd unseen was not going to happen.

"Typhan!"

Dahlia's call from across the hall was loud, too loud to pretend she hadn't heard. So Typhan turned and looked for her host.

Dahlia stood to the side of a small pack of noblemen, all in various shades of amber and bronze. She had made the theme of this night's party 'Autumn Leaves' and the guests had enthusiastically complied. Her own dress was a deep gold, adorned along the bodice with tiny beaded leaves strategically placed to glint in the light as she moved among the guests. More of the leaf decorations were clipped throughout her tight dark curls, giving the impression of a crown. Ty had to give her credit, her host knew how to draw the eyes of everyone in the room without even saying a word. Dahlia was laughing and sipping a glass of a deep red wine as Typhan approached.

"Marquise! I thought that was you." Dahlia smiled, reaching her hand to pull Ty closer. "I almost missed introducing you to these fine gentlemen."

The introductions went 'round with much bowing and hand-kissing, but the pile of young men seemed to blur together, their names and faces alike in bland nobility. Ty had no taste for the platitudes, but she greeted each with polite gentility.

"Pleased to meet you all."

Ty signaled one of the butlers as he passed by and took a flute of a light pink wine from his tray. She sipped quietly as Dahlia launched into a bawdy story about one of her old acquaintances, who was very plainly not in attendance. She wondered if this was her host's normal revenge for a slighted invitation. The circle of young men, hanging on every glittering, sordid word, seemed too young and eager to please for Ty's taste. It had been three weeks since she arrived in Portho and every week there was at least one new young man the Duchess felt she had to entertain for Typhan's sake. After the first two, of which one was far too young for her (though rich, Dahlia reminded her), and the other a bit too brash (the epithet 'Carrot' was not exactly complimentary for a red-headed woman), she had attempted to dissuade further invitations. But tonight's dinner was the first of the three-night Harvest festival, and so Typhan suffered the introductions with as much grace as she could manage.

"Now, my dear old friend," Dalhia had placed her hand on Typhan's arm, "I have a final guest I'd love to introduce you to."

With more than a few sighs of regret and polite half-bows their companions took their leave. Typhan followed Dahlia as they walked through the crowd toward the front of the hall.

"Now I know I had told you that he never left the University, but my hermit brother actually agreed to visit me!" Typhan thought that Dahlia's smile was the first genuine one she'd seen all night. "I was hoping to surprise you. He arrived late last night."

It took all of Typhan's composure not to stop in her tracks. She swallowed down her anxiety, feeling it burn in her gut. A surprise indeed. "I'm glad he could make it." Typhan hoped her words didn't sound too flat.

Dahlia squeezed Ty's hand, for once oblivious to her companion's discomfort. "I am too, very much. It's been almost a year since I've seen him. And it's been, what, twelve years since you two have seen each other?"