Chapter 12
Fine Dining
Turino Province, Adriano Region, Ilyria
Toma found himself loitering uncomfortably in the hallway. He was dressed like some poncy young gentleman. Cravat, waistcoat, shoes with little silver buckles. He was nearly scrubbed raw by a rather zealous matron who wouldn't take no for an answer when he objected to her help during his bath. His normally unruly hair was combed out straight and slicked back and the bit of peach fuzz on his chin and upper lip—all he could manage for facial hair—was shaved off with a rather wicked-looking razor. He didn't know how these rich people could stand it. Some people dream of being waited on hand and foot, but he didn't like it one bit.
Speaking of people who didn't like the royal treatment, there was some commotion further down the hall, shouting, crashing and such. Toma went to investigate and when he got closer, the door swung open and laid him out flat. Dazed, he looked up to see a naked Shaya, dripping wet and covered in soap suds. She had a frantic look in her eyes. Toma remembered seeing the same look in Dino's dog whenever they tried to give it a bath. Why he was thinking of Dino's dog when there was a naked woman standing right there was a question worth asking. Maybe it was because the novelty value was gone.
Before Shaya could run off, Dru caught her by the wrist, scolding her in Adomite. She was just wearing a bathrobe and had her hair bundled up in a towel.
Noticing him, Dru exclaimed, "Toma! Are you alright?"
Funny. Seeing Shaya standing there naked didn't do anything, but seeing Dru in a bathrobe brought a flush to his cheeks. Dru blushed herself and clutched the robe close with her free hand. Toma averted his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Toma," Dru said. "Shaya isn't used to bathing like this and she's being difficult."
She said something to Shaya in Adomite, probably trying to coax her back inside to finish her bath. Shaya said something back and although Toma couldn't follow the words, from the tone of Dru's voice, it sounded like she was denying something.
Not all that seriously, Toma said, "You're not talking about me, are you?"
"You understand Adomite?" Dru asked.
"Of course not."
"Then, ah... no."
So they were talking about him. What though? It was probably going to keep him up at night.
Dru once again started trying to get Shaya to go back to the room, but Shaya made a point to extend her hand to Toma. Awkward though it was, he accepted her hand and she helped him back to his feet.
She said something curt, which Dru then interpreted as, "Shaya says she's sorry about hitting you with the door."
Shaya said something else.
"And that you look handsome."
And more.
"Yes, I think you look handsome too."
More.
"But she likes you better the way you normally are. Yes, I agree."
Shaya patted Toma on the shoulder and said something that prompted Dru to get flustered and blush again as she pulled Shaya back into the room and slammed the door behind her.
"What did she say!?" Toma demanded of the door, but it didn't have any answers for him.
* * *
It was another hour or so until they were assembled in the dining hall. The guys were brought in first and made to stand by their seats and await the ladies. As guests, Toma and his companions were given seats near the head of the table. With their gentlemanly makeover, Goldie looked much as he did when they first met—he was the only one of the four of them for whom this was actually a step down from what was usual for him. Duran seemed to be about as uncomfortable as Toma, but neither of them could hold a candle to Schwartz. Because of his large frame, none of his clothes fit quite right. It appeared that his clothes were cut for a shorter, fatter man, leaving it loose around the middle, tight about the chest, and short in the legs and sleeves.
"Ain't this somethin'?" Duran said.
"The nabobs gotta live like this ever' day?" Schwartz asked. "I feel like I'm gonna die."
Goldie gave them a look like he wanted to say something, but he kept quiet. Toma didn't think he'd said a word all day.
The gentleman standing next to Toma cleared his throat, presumably as an expression of displeasure. If so, the intent was lost on the target.
Although they were already standing, a manservant said, "Please rise, gentlemen."
The door on the opposite side of the dining hall opened and the manservant announced the ladies as they entered one by one.
"Signora Drusille Joli."
Dru looked absolutely stunning. Perhaps if they had first met under better circumstances, she would've made the same impression. As befitting an actual princess, she carried herself with perfect grace as she walked over to her seat.
"Signorina Shaya Merkanian."
Seeing the savage She-Bear dressed in a fine gown had much the same effect as dressing up a real bear. If your tastes were so inclined, you might actually find some charm to her, though. Her dress had puffy sleeves to hide her muscular arms and because little could be done to tame her wild hair, it was just tied back and concealed behind a veil that covered the back of her head. Her movements were stiff and clumsy, but it seemed like she'd gotten some coaching from Dru on how to move in a dress like that.
"Signorina Margaret Wood."
With her being much fairer skinned than Shaya, it was easier to see Molly blushing from embarrassment in the outfit that was much fancier than anything she'd ever seen in real life, much less wore. However, she seemed more capable of carrying herself than Shaya, but that was admittedly faint praise.
"Donna Carla di Ribisi."
Next was an older woman, probably getting close to ninety, who wasn't quite fat per se, but 'fleshy' would be a fair description of her. She had all the poise of a born-and-bred noblewoman, but something of a severe bearing. It was just Toma's luck that she was seated across from him.
"Signorina Giulietta di Ribisi."
Apparently Donna Carla's granddaughter followed. She looked to be around Toma's age, a little on the plump side but not bad to look at. Outshined by Dru, of course, but if you like your girls with a little more meat on them, she fit the bill.
"Signorina Carlina di Trosti."
The next girl could almost pass for Giulietta's sister. Maybe a cousin. Similar shape but with a head of tightly wound ebon curls instead of the chestnut color of Giulietta's hair.
"Her Ladyship the Viscontessa di Ribisi, Aloisa Degel."
Toma could hardly believe it when the butler greeted Crescenza as 'my lady', but there she was. In all her finery, you'd never imagine her as a highway robber, but perhaps that was why the deception worked so well. There were three seats at the head of the table and Crescenza—or Lady Aloisa or whatever she wanted to call herself—took the one to the left side, toward the other ladies. The men bowed and the ladies curtsied to their hostess, then servants pulled out the chairs so they could be seated.
First they were served bowls of water. Toma thought it was a rather miserable sort of soup, but looking to the gentlefolk, he saw them dipping their hands in the bowl and then holding up their hands while the servants dried them off with napkins. Dru helpfully whispered instructions to Shaya and Molly in their respective languages, though this got her a bit of a look from Donna Carla.
The bowls were taken away, then Crescenza bowed her head and raised her hands.
"Let us pray," she said.
Toma didn't know who they prayed to in Ilyria, but it probably wouldn't hurt to just bow his head.
"Our Father, may Thy blessings be upon us and this house, upon the food and drink of which we are about to partake. Set a table in the presence of our enemies and lead us to victory. This we pray in Thy holy Name. May it be so."
"May it be so," most of the guests replied.
When everyone raised their heads, Crescenza said, "As you can see, we have guests this evening. We have Signor and Signora Henri Joli, Signor Duran—"
"Just Duran," Duran said.
Crescenza continued, "Signorina Shaya Merkanian, Signor Elon Schwartz, Signorina Margaret Wood, Signor Tomasino Marisco, my mother-in-law Donna Carla di Ribisi, her son and my brother-in-law Don Carlo di Ribisi, my niece Signorina Giulietta di Ribisi and her companion Signorina Carlina di Trosti."
"And where did you find these... assorted personages, Aloisa?" Donna Carla asked.
"Something the cat dragged in?" Don Carlo suggested.
"Something of the sort," Crescenza replied.
With a slight bow of her head, Dru said, "It is an honor to make your acquaintances, my lord and ladies."
Goldie followed her lead and bobbed his head.
"At least some of you do not seem so dreadfully common," Donna Carla said. "I must say, your Ilyrian is impeccable for a foreigner, young lady. Where did you learn it?"
"My grandmother on my mother's side was Ilyrian, my lady," Dru replied. "I learned from her."
So she was still going with this story. Was that the same thing she told the one Ilyrian officer? Knowing her, she could probably keep a convoluted backstory like that consistent.
"And how old are you, may I ask?" Donna Carla said.
"I am twenty-six, my lady."
"You are not too young for marriage, I suppose, but I find it peculiar that your husband is so young. I daresay he is younger than you."
"It is not so peculiar among the lowborn, my lady," Dru replied. "If a young man waits until he has established himself before he finds a wife, he may miss the opportunity entirely. Also, it does not hurt to have a helpmate at home while learning your trade."
Dismissively, Donna Carla said, "Perhaps if they focused only on learning their trade, the peasants would be more productive and there would not be so many unwanted children taxing the charity of their betters."
"They do not live so long anyway, Mother," Don Carlo said. "We would have no one to do the work if they wasted time in replenishing the stock."
"Do not speak of such things at the dinner table, Carlo," Donna Carla said. "It is uncouth."
This must be the genteel manners Toma had heard so much about.
"And what about you, Signor Tomasino?" Giulietta asked. "Do you have a little wife waiting for you back home?"
She was leaning forward with her elbows on the table and her hands folded under her chin, creating a little window to draw attention to her breasts. Toma wondered if it was intentional or not, but given the way she was looking at him, he imagined it was all part of the plan. He could feel Dru watching him. All of the sudden, his cravat felt like a noose and it was tightening.
As he tugged on his cravat a little, he said, "No. No wife. Just travelling with, ah, with my sister."
Were they still using that story?
Donna Carla looked at Dru, then at Toma and said, "I fail to see the resemblance."
"Uh... half-sister?"
"Are telling me or asking me, young man?"
"Telling you?"
"A man ought to speak with more confidence. If he is telling the truth, that is."
"Come now, Mother," Crescenza intervened. "You are making my guests uncomfortable. This is not an inquest."
"Who said anything about an inquest, Aloisa? I was merely—"
"Surely the trivial intricacies of our family must seem frightfully dull to you, my lady," Dru said. "I'm afraid we're quite wanting for topics to entertain the wellborn."
"How you can be so well-spoken as a commoner is perhaps a topic worthy of interest," Donna Carla said. "Something else to credit to your Ilyrian grandmother?"
"She would say, 'Just because you don't have the rank doesn't mean you can't be a lady,'" Dru replied.
"You seem to be living proof of that, young lady," Don Carlo said, raising his glass to her.
How would these people react if they knew who Dru really was, Toma wondered. Could they even imagine it? He did notice the way Crescenza was watching Dru. If anyone would suspect Dru was more than what she was pretending, it was her. Little surprise given that she had a double life of her own.
"You also seem to be quite the polyglot," Crescenza said. "How many languages do you speak?"
"Elban and Ilyrian are so close they are practically the same language, my lady," Dru replied. "I would hardly call myself a polyglot."
"Yet you speak Grelish and Adomite as well."
She then said something in a harsh tongue Toma remembered from the night LeBlanc was attacked. It was the tongue of Zadok. Just hearing the sound of it was enough to make Shaya glare at her. Dru put a hand on her arm to calm her down, then replied in Zadok. Toma had no idea what they were saying.
"Aloisa, must you use that vile language at the dinner table?" Donna Carla asked.
"My apologies, Mother," Crescenza said. "I let my interest in this very learned young goodwife carry me away."
And what exactly did Crescenza's interest mean for them? She said she was an enemy of Zadok, but what was she after by digging into Dru's story? Toma couldn't figure it out, but it seemed like a good move to stay on his guard.
Apparently in a bid to change the topic and take away the scrutiny from Dru, Duran asked, "So what's the story with this Alesso?"
The genteel guests at the table went completely silent.
"We do not speak that damnable name in this house," Donna Carla said bitterly.
"They do not know any better, Mother," Crescenza said. "That man is the mortal enemy of our house. We cannot prove it to the satisfaction of the courts, but we know he had a hand in my husband's death. He erodes our claim to the land, having occupied most of our holdings, and interferes with my brother's succession. We only hold on to this estate as my widow's portion. None of our children lived, so there is no direct descendant to take my husband's claim.
"That man exploits our land and her people as its so-called custodian and would add them permanently to his own holdings if I should die or remarry. He is well-connected and there is little we can do to stop him."
"Over the table that is, eh?" Duran noted.
A slight grin crossed Crescenza's lips.
"Well, if some virtuous bandits happened to interfere with his exploitation of our lands, we would be grateful to them, even if they are not exactly operating within the law. But enough of that. Carlo—our head chef, not my brother here—has quite the feast for us tonight. Let me show you what true Ribisi hospitality is."
"Aw, thank Mother, Maid an' Crone," Schwartz said. "I'm starvin'."