Matters of the Heart
Adelaide heaved a sigh deep enough that she saw spots at the edge of her vision.
She had found a secluded place to sit on the shelves behind the training ground. She held a small ink pen, and on her lap was a small journal she’d found in storage. The journal read a list of ideas, each one scribbled out as Adelaide rejected it.
She was frustrated. She’d been running through ideas for this for an hour already, and nothing she came up with seemed good enough. She just needed that perfect idea, the one that felt exactly right.
She was trying to decide where to take Plum on a date.
It had been four days since they’d returned to the Law. Adelaide had spent much of her time practicing her dawn magic and learning from Theoderic. According to Caliburn (who, somehow, already knew everything that happened here), Laszlo was preparing something big for the entire organization. So, Adelaide has decided that now was the time to formally ask Plum.
She’d run through enough ideas that her head was starting pound. She’d thought about ways to entertain her, craft a wonderful night, or make her food, but nothing she considered felt like it would be to Plum’s taste.
Come to think of it, Adelaide had no idea how to plan a date at all. All she knew of romance she’d learned from pulpy novels in the Keep’s libraries. In those, everything seemed to work itself out with the protagonist doing practically nothing.
Then again, the protagonists of those novels were always the most perfectly gorgeous women with constantly immaculate hair and flawless wand skills. So. Perhaps they were not the healthiest people to emulate.
Adelaide sighed again and snapped the journal shut. Perhaps a walk around the Law would help her think more clearly.
She stood and stretched, then tucked the journal into her sash. She smiled fondly as she glanced down and saw herself in the clothes she’d chosen, for once. With a quick smoothing of her dress, she rounded the corner.
She then jumped what felt like a foot in the air as she came face to face with Theoderic.
“Woah, lass,” he said, chuckling slightly. “I thought I heard someone back there.”
“Theo!” Adelaide squeaked. “Sorry, I did not know you were here!”
“Nothin’ to be sorry for, Addie,” he said. The nickname had quickly caught on after Caliburn had heard Willy use it to refer to her. As wonderful as it was, a part of her missed when the nickname had been between her and Plum.
“Right,” Adelaide replied, shaking herself out of her thoughts and flashing Theoderic with a shy smile.
“What’re you up to back here, anyway?” he asked. “Hiding from the Golden Boy?” he added, smirking.
Adelaide rolled her eyes. “No, no. I’ve not seen Caliburn in a while, now that you mention it.” She thought for a moment before shaking her head to regain her train of thought. “I was…” she trailed off again and flushed. “I was, um, trying to think of a date to take Plum on.” She looked at the floor, her cheeks feeling like they were on fire.
Theoderic laughed, a deep and full sound that somehow made Adelaide even more flustered.
“You kids,” Theoderic commented, still chuckling slightly. “Well, when I’ve been chasin’ after a pretty thing like Miss Delora, I find it helps to get ‘em nice and liquored up. Y’know, I know this tavern that’s not too far from here that sells cheap grog and cheaper beds…” he trailed off and waggled his eyebrows at Adelaide, who by now had felt the flush creep down to her chest.
“I shall, um, take that under advisement, Theo,” she stammered. “Thank you.” She sidled
past him so that she could find somewhere to hide.
She’d considered that, of course. Well, alright, not exactly that. But taking her to a bar. Plum did love her drink, and a night of wanton consumption did seem somewhat her speed. To Adelaide, though, that lacked romance, that secret something to make it special.
She extricated herself from conversation with a still-chuckling Theoderic and scampered her way out of the training hall.
Adelaide shut the door behind her and leaned against it, breathing heavily. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, and then clapped her hands to her cheeks. With effort, she managed to calm her racing heart and willed her face to cool off before making her way through the halls.
She found herself wandering into the library. It was another place she came to for calm. The collection was more robust than she’d have expected, and there were seldom more than a few people occupying the room.
Unfortunately, today was one of the days it was occupied.
William and Liana sat at one of the tables, a vast array of tomes open in front of them. Adelaide wasn’t entirely sure what had happened between them, but it seemed they’d reconciled since the Golden Hold. They could be found together more often than not, these days.
Willam’s brown-haired head popped up from where it was nestled into a book as she entered. “Hullo, cousin,” he called, smiling broadly. Liana waved a hand in greeting, and did not bother to look up from her own book.
“Hi, Willy, Liana,” she responded, returning Willam’s smile with one of her own. “How goes the study?”
“‘Tis well!” Willam replied excitedly. “We have been looking into the history of dyadic mana conversion. ‘Tis fascinating, and to think the Magisterium hides it so well.”
“Indeed,” Liana added. “Though I would wager ‘tis not as well hidden as they think.” She finally looked up, and glanced at Adelaide. Adelaide shifted uncomfortably under her sharp blue gaze.
“I am glad it goes well,” Adelaide said, with another smile, before making her way to one of the bookshelves. She began perusing, but wasn’t even certain what she was searching for.
“What are you searching for, cousin?” Willam asked, approaching her. “I’ve become very familiar with the archives here, perhaps I can help you locate it.”
Adelaide floundered for a moment. “Well, I…” she trailed off. “I do not know if anything here would help with what I seek.”
“What is it?”
“Well, um,” she hesitated, feeling the heat creep to her face again. When she did speak, she spoke slowly, measuring her words. “I am trying to decide where to take Plumeria on a date.”
Willam gaped for a moment, and then a wide grin erupted across his face.
“Addie, that is wonderful!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing in place.
“‘Tis about time,” Liana muttered, again not looking up from her tome.
“So what is the problem then, Addie?” Willam asked, ignoring Liana’s snide remark.
Adelaide forced down her embarrassment and managed to squeak out a response. “I am having difficulty deciding what to do for her,” she answered. “Naught I have considered seems adequate.”
“You need something romantic, yes?” Willam asked, excitedly. “Something to set sparks flying?” At Adelaide’s sheepish nod, he continued.
“The most romantic night of my life was when Olivier took me on a moonlit picnic, candles and all. ‘Twas a truly unforgettable experience.”
Adelaide nodded again, thinking, as he spoke. It did make sense—a romantic dinner under the stars. But from across the room, she heard Liana scoff.
“Do not be foolish, Willy,” she said, and Adelaide saw Willam visibly deflate. Before she could say something about it, Liana barreled forward.
“Such a night is for classless barbarians, or worse, men.” She faked a shudder. “‘Twould surely not be to Miss Delora’s tastes. And forget this notion of doing aught ‘for’ her. A romantic escapade is best when you do aught with your beloved. I know of this absolutely gorgeous restaurant in the city. They serve a thirty-seven course tasting meal, and for a very reasonable price, too.”
“Thirty-seven?” Willam gasped, astonished.
“Indeed. And each remarkable.”
Ignoring the ludicrousness of a thirty-seven course meal. Adelaide had to admit they each had somewhat of a point. Something romantic and personal, but also something they could do together. And, something to suit Plum’s tastes.
“Thank you both,” she said eventually, interrupting her friends out of their bickering. “You have given me much to consider.” They each seemed equally surprised to be thanked. Adelaide turned and left the room, already pulling out her journal to make notes.
She hardly made it down the hall before cursing and nearly falling to the ground as she collided with someone.
“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed a kindly voice. “Are you alright, Adelaide?”
Adelaide blinked and scrambled to right herself. “Y-yes, Minerva, I am alright. I am sorry, I did not see you there.”
“‘Tis quite alright, dear,” Minerva replied, almost automatically reaching out to smooth Adelaide’s dress where it had rumpled at the shoulder. Her touch was gentle, and Adelaide immediately felt a touch calmer.
“If I may ask,” Minerva began. “What has Miss Vermillion so absorbed?”
Adelaide groaned internally. At this rate the entire Law shall know before Plum does. But surely Minerva would have some advice here…
Adelaide took a breath, deciding quickly. “I am trying to decide where to take Plum on a date.” She still felt her heart rush as she said the words.
Minerva squealed—actually squealed, like a schoolgirl in a novel. The effect made a strange contrast with her round, aging face. “Adelaide! Oh, young love is so adorable,” she gushed, and Adelaide felt her face growing hot again.
“Yes, well, ‘twill be a moot point if I can not decide.”
“You know, there is this absolutely adorable coffee house where they let you read their books, sort of like a library and cafe in one. And they have very friendly cats!”
Adelaide half-frowned, and Minerva cocked her head in thought.
“Though, that does not seem like something that young Miss Plumeria would choose.” She met Adelaide’s eyes again and grinned wide. “Just follow your heart, dear. I am certain that she will adore whatever you decide simply because ‘tis you.”
“I suppose,” Adelaide answered hesitantly. Minerva squeezed her hand gently.
“Good luck,” she said with another grin. “I must be off, but do let me know how it goes.”
“Of course, Minerva,” Adelaide replied. “Thank you.”
Minerva practically skipped through the hall, muttering something about young love in a singsongy voice. Adelaide wrote briefly in her journal—standing still, this time—and continued on her walk through the halls.
Eventually, Adelaide made her way to the mess hall. It was about lunch time, and perhaps some brain food would help. When she got there, the hall was mostly empty. Obella sat with Adamas at one table—an unlikely pair, Adelaide thought. Though now that I consider it, it does make some sense.
She retrieved a simple lunch of fried bread and sausage, and after a moment’s hesitation stepped up to Adamas and Obella’s table.
“Hullo,” she said, with an awkward wave, her other hand holding her plate of food. “Um, may I sit?”
The two glanced at each other, but Obella gestured wordlessly at one of the empty seats. She, unsurprisingly, wore her imposing suit of armor. Adelaide figured it must be fused to her skin, at this point.
“Thank you,” Adelaide said, feeling entirely unsure what to do next. She picked at her food, thinking. What did you expect, Adelaide? That the two scariest people here would give you good date advice?
She was saved from her self-flagellation by Adamas’s words.
“Not that we do not appreciate your company, Miss Vermillion,” he began. “But is there aught we can assist you with?”
Adelaide almost sighed with relief. “Um,” she stammered, still unsure how to ask. “Well, I was wondering…”
“Just ask already, kid,” Obella snapped.
“Right,” Adelaide said, swallowing hard. “Do either of you have any… dating advice?”
Neither of them responded for a few agonizing seconds. Adelaide felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of her neck as she withered under their gaze. Adamas’s keen purple eyes, especially, made her squirm in place. Why is this more terrifying than facing down my mother?
“I can not say that I do,” Adamas said curtly, gathering his dishes into a pile. “I shall take my leave.” He nodded to Obella and Adelaide, and stood to leave.
“Right,” Adelaide said softly to his back.
“Whom?” Obella asked.
Adelaide jumped. She’d almost forgotten the woman was there. “Um, what?” she stammered. She hadn’t processed what Obella had asked.
“Who are you attempting to court?”
“Plumeria,” Adelaide replied quickly.
“Huh,” Obella mused, rubbing her chin. “Well, good for you.” Adelaide looked down at the table as Obella took a deep swig from a flagon. “What is the problem then?”
“I want to take her on a date, but I am unsure what it should be. I have considered so many options, and everyone else in the Law seems to have had advice for me today, prompted or not, so I thought that I would ask you too. Though I do not know if romance is something you think about.” She flushed as she realized what she’d just said. “Not that it seems as though you do not! Just, it seems as though you have bigger things to worry about, yes?” She groaned. “Sorry, I am rambling.”
Obella stared at her blankly. “I do not understand,” she stated, seemingly ignoring both Adelaide’s ramble and her apology. “Why have you not consummated it yet?”
Adelaide nearly choked on her toast. She coughed and forced the bite down her throat.
“I- um- we-” she floundered. “Well, ‘tis just-”
“Look,” Obella cut her off. “You are right, I do not have that kind of patience. If you like her, just tell her. If she likes you back, bed her. If not, move on.” She shrugged. “Worked for me so far.”
“Right,” Adelaide replied, still coughing slightly. “I shall, um, think about it. Thank you I am going to go now goodbye!” she said quickly as she gathered up her dishes and fled the mess hall.
Adelaide took her half-eaten lunch and scrambled into one of the small lounge rooms in the leisure wing. They were usually less trafficked than other parts of the Law, and she’d found she could get some peace here most of the time. She sat at one of the desks and took a deep breath, and then started poking at her lunch again.
After a few moments, she pulled her journal out and read over some of her notes. Under a section titled “Advice,” she had scrawled out a few notes, trying to distill advice into what she thought her friends were really trying to say.
Theo: something she likes
Willy: intimacy and romance
Liana: an experience to share
Minerva: follow your heart
Adamas: I think I offended him by asking
Obella: be direct and ask
Adelaide sighed. None of this was helpful! She supposed it was all good advice in the abstract, but it didn’t help her figure out where to take Plum.
She made a frustrated grunt and snapped her journal shut again. She’d managed to finish her lunch, or at least most of it, and she stood to take it back to the mess hall.
She was interrupted by a tragically familiar voice at the door.
“Vermillion,” Caliburn called by way of greeting. His golden hair was neatly combed, and his tunic was infuriatingly immaculate and pressed, as always.
“Hello, Caliburn,” Adelaide replied, barely suppressing a groan. “I was just about to return my dishes.”
“Yes yes,” Caliburn said, waving a hand dismissively and taking a seat facing hers. “I did not seek you out idly, you know.”
“Oh?” Adelaide said. The conversation had barely started and she was already exhausted.
“I hear that you are looking for some romantic advice.”
It was even harder to suppress a groan this time. From him? she thought, incredulous. Though, she was growing desperate…
“I suppose that I am,” she eventually said, carefully.
Caliburn smiled brilliantly. “Excellent! Well, as you probably know, I courted nearly every woman in the Hold, so I have some experience in this field.”
And if you were any good at it, you’d not have needed so much practice, Adelaide thought, smirking, but kept her mouth shut.
“There are exactly four eateries in this dark-swallowed city worth dining at,” Caliburn went on without missing a beat, either not noticing Adelaide’s smirk or not caring. He reached into his tunic pocket and pulled out a folded scrap of parchment. “I have taken the liberty of writing down pros and cons on each of them here, as well as their addresses and the varieties of food they specialize in.”
Adelaide took the offered paper hesitantly, and unfolded it. Sure enough, it listed four restaurants, and a surprisingly in-depth analysis of each.
“I also hear that there is a passable opera in the city,” Caliburn continued. “Though I have never been myself.” He leaned back in his chair, smirking. “I know not if the opera would be a good fit, though.”
Adelaide was silent for a few moments as she read over the list.
“Caliburn, this is…” she paused. “Actually very thorough. And kind.” She looked up at him. “Thank you. Truly.”
Caliburn’s smile faltered, and Adelaide thought she saw a hint of pink color his cheeks.
“Well, I-” Caliburn huffed. “You are welcome. I am glad that my advice was helpful to one such as yourself.” He stood abruptly, and made to leave before pausing at the door.
“Good luck, Vermillion,” he said softly, and then was gone.
Adelaide sat back down heavily. She hummed softly, and looked at the paper Caliburn had given her again. She pulled out her journal and jotted down a quick note.
Caliburn: dinner and the opera. surprisingly helpful, for once
Adelaide gathered her dishes again and returned them to the mess hall. Unsure what to do next, she simply wandered through the Law’s halls, thinking. The halls of the Keep had always offered her some measure of solace. They’d been familiar, and she could wander through them for hours, lost in her thoughts, as she observed the filigree work and curls of the vines. By contrast, the halls of the Law were narrower, darker, and far less interesting. The walking helped, yes, but she found herself missing home with a surprisingly deep pang.
She shook herself from her thoughts, and was surprised to find herself near Laszlo’s study. She took a step towards it, then stopped. Surely he has aught more important than fretting over than my love life, she thought. Then again, he’d been there before when she’d needed him most, and his advice had helped her through much worse than this. She hesitated a moment longer, and then stepped up to his door.
She knocked softly, and upon a call from within, she gently opened the door.
“Ah, Miss Adelaide!” Laszlo exclaimed, his moustache dancing as he smiled at her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?” He gestured for her to sit across from him.
Adelaide sat obligingly. Though his desk was large, it had always felt strangely intimate to Adelaide. She found herself glancing again at the large tapestry of the First Radiance and the Lightless before she spoke.
“Hello, Laszlo,” she said. “I hope I am not keeping you from aught important.”
“Nonsense, Adelaide. You are important to me. What can I do for you?”
Adelaide opened and closed her mouth a few times, unsure at first how to ask the question.
“Did you and Arthur… date?” she asked eventually.
Laszlo smiled at her, and though it was his usual kind smile, Adelaide could sense a touch of sadness behind it.
“We did,” he responded. “For a little over two years. We often had to be… clandestine about it, but neither of us were ones to let fear stop us from showing our love.”
Adelaide nodded, and considered her words. “If you could go on one more date with him now, what would you do?”
Laszlo’s smile deepened, and he leaned forward slightly.
“This is not truly about Arthur, is it, Adelaide?” he asked.
Adelaide flushed. “No,” she answered sheepishly.
Laszlo’s smile deepened even farther. His moustache seemed to dance, and the scar across his face seemed to dance with it.
“I know a restaurant,” Laszlo began. “‘Tis near the edge of the city center. The food there is delicious, but ‘tis quiet and casual. Calm. ‘Tis a place where one can truly relish in the company of another. The wine is decent, as well.
“And, if that were not enough, just down the road is an abandoned clock tower. ‘Tis been awaiting demolition for years now, though I suspect that will never happen. ‘Tis something of a local landmark, at this point. Regardless, there is a section of crumbled wall on the east side that allows access if you squeeze, and on the top floor you can make your way to the roof. From there, you can see the entire city and beyond. ‘Tis one of the most beautiful sights I have seen in all my years.”
“That sounds…” Adelaide trailed off. Laszlo simply smiled.
“Have you heard of how the sky once looked? Before the Darkenings, and the Lightless?”
Adelaide blinked, surprised by the seeming diversion.
“I have read accounts of the stars being swallowed by the dark,” she answered. “I have always assumed that the skies above the Darklands were not always so.”
“Indeed,” Laszlo answered, nodding. He stood, and reached to the wand sheath at his hip. “Come, draw your wand,” he commanded. “I’ve a spell to teach you.”
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