June gave way to July. Silas threw a huge Fourth of July bonfire for them where Arden and Fin followed Arch around chanting, “USA,” over and over, until he grew so annoyed he sent a golem after them. Arden was in a much better mood the moment Brittney left and was being extra annoying to the older boys to make up for the days that she’d been there.
Nellie had small moments of loneliness with Ava and Amias both leaving. They never lasted long, not with her greenhouse duties with Lilac, sneaking into the woods with Fin and Brody (Calix having gone to Greece for two weeks to visit family), and discussing–or avoiding–Morgan’s dragon research. She was sure to write Ava a letter and make it vague enough that she could share it with Emma, Olivia, and Sophia. She also scratched out her note to text Penny asking if it was possible for someone like her to make friends.
Nellie propped her face on her hand as Mrs. Adams hobbled in front of them, a book held in her hand that she was reading snippets from. It had something to do with the religious order that the Order of Ferblanc acted as an arm of, and how it was once a part of the Roman Catholic church. Nellie was having a hard time focusing on the dry history when Mrs. Adams constantly would pause to reiterate that the two are separate but also the same.
“The Holy See has the Swiss Guard,” Mrs. Adams went on, “while the Holy Cor has the Order of Ferblanc. Yes, Mr. Jones?”
“Brody, why,” Arden hissed. “I want to get out of here.”
“The Holy See isn’t really part of Vatican City, right,” Broday asked. “It’s its own thing?”
“Correct, Mr. Jones,” Mrs. Adams said. “And to answer your next question before you ask it, the Holy Cor is also a separate entity although it is located alongside Vatican City just as the Holy See. The difference here being that the Holy See is an internationally recognized government while the Holy Cor stays to the Realm.”
“And it’s feminine,” Lilac said airily, lifting her hand after the fact.
“Yes, Miss Maebry; the Holy Cor takes on the feminine to balance out the masculine of the Holy See. A tribute of sorts to all the women and their role centuries back when the religious first came to be. There is crossover, of course, most particularly with the religious orders. The two will share monks and nuns with no qualms. It boils down to a single, specific line during vows to even know which brother or sister belongs where. And, really, who has time to sort any of that out.” She snapped her book shut. “We’ll continue this tomorrow. There will also be an extra lesson pertaining to the Auctorita’s founding. Now, I’m sure you want to get to your letters before I call you back for geography.”
Nellie had a letter from Nathalie that was not very long. It spoke of her teaching, how all her petunias died, and how she still had not replaced the laptop she dropped. Ash was doing well–Nathalie lamenting his leaving bits of dead things around. She also had a reply from Ava. This was also not very long, but it was clear from the lack of flow that the other girls had added their thoughts during the writing. They even all signed it, saying they missed her–Nellie doubted Olivia really did–and hoped she’d return before summer finished so that they could all go shopping.
Hey,” Fin said, glancing over. He held up his sheets of paper. “Welcome to the two letters club. It’s exclusive.”
“Ava says she misses you guys,” Nellie said, giving Ava’s letter a shake.
“Ava nice,” Itzel said. “Miss her.”
Morgan stared at his half page with boredom. He folded it and leaned back in his chair. “My mother sends her love.”
They were interrupted by Mrs. Adams appearing with an old shoebox. Arch jumped up to take it from her as she hobbled into the den.
“Thank you, Mr. Willoughby. Pass those out, would you? Mr. Javernick has requested geography be held an hour later, and to have your phone allotment moved to now. Dinner tonight will be formal practice, so will last longer.” She hobbled from the den. “I’ll have the box on my desk. You may drop them off on your way into geography.”
Arch looked from his battered, old flipphone to the smartphones around him wistfully before excusing himself to make a call. Brody also excused himself to call family while Lilac–having just seen her parents–settled into a chair and started coloring on a coloring app. Itzel had no phone so started on writing her reply.
“Wanna sword fight,” Arden asked Nellie and Morgan. “We can do it in pairs. Me and Morgan against Fin and Nellie.”
“Should I not be with Cabrera?” Morgan eyed Fin. “Oldest and youngest against the two in the middle?”
“Yeah, normally, but Nellie’s lousy so putting her with Fin will either better our chances or even out the teams,” Arden said.
“Gee thanks,” Nellie said dryly.
Morgan looked pleased someone ranked him over Nellie, and agreed to Arden’s terms.
Nellie did not do as badly as she feared; perhaps in some attempt to show up Arden and Morgan or because Fin was just a good partner. She and Morgan eventually held back to let Arden and Fin go at it. They plopped down beneath a nearby tree to allow the shade to cool them.
“Silas told me dinner is formal practice due to guests,” Morgan said in low tones. “More Auctorita founding members.”
“Your mom?”
“No; much better,” Morgan said with a smirk. “It’s our way into China.”
“What are you talking about,” Nellie asked carefully.
“I did not hit you hard enough for this,” Morgan said. He rolled his hazel eyes. “Your father. China. Does that ring the bell?”
Her stomach plummeted. Morgan had been so quiet about Rhys and China that Nellie thought he accepted the obvious wall before them. It didn't occur to her that his stubbornness had him looking for another solution.
She laughed shakily. “You're crazy! You think I can just call Nathalie and get my passport? Even if you did find a way into China, no way is she letting me go.”
“No passport and no asking permission required,” Morgan said smugly. He shot a look at Arden and Fin to ensure they were still consumed hitting each other. “Beast and Brigitte are smugglers.”
“You know a smuggler named Beast?”
“Well… no, but he is a founding member of the Auctorita, so my parents do,” Morgan said hastily.
“Still… a smuggler….”
“Sometimes it's a noble pursuit,” Morgan said. He scratched his nose and looked away. “Whatever the case, it's our way in.”
Nellie was quickly coming to the point when she'd have to flat-out refuse to go with Morgan. He put so much work into the dragon research and on finding a way to get to Rhys, that she couldn't help but feel guilt squirming in her guts.
“Ow!”
Fin was clamping a hand to his head, eyes narrowed at Arden who was waving his wooden sword over his head in triumph over his instant kill hit.
---
Nellie stood between Itzel and Lilac at the back of the line; Mrs. Adams had insisted on inspecting each of them before allowing them into the dining room, and further insisted the girls be last.
“Miss Maebry, are those grass stains,” Mrs. Adams asked.
“From the garden,” Lilac clarified.
Mrs. Adams glared disapproval but waved Lilac into the dining room. Nellie hastily combed her auburn waves over one shoulder as she stepped forward.
“Is that dirt beneath your nails, Miss Herle?”
“Oh… um….”
“Is that a bruise on your forearm?”
Nellie clamped a hand over the elongated bruise from Morgan’s wooden sword, but quickly let go to hide both hands behind her back. She gave Mrs. Adams a sheepish smile.
“I suppose it too warm to have the whole of your arms covered,” Mrs. Adams said stiffly. “Go on. Go find your seat. But the next time, Miss Herle, that we have practice, you scrub those nails.”
Nellie’s head bobbed as she shuffled by Mrs. Adams into the dining room. She understood immediately why the man was dubbed Beast.
He was sitting next to Silas at the head of the table, but she first thought he was standing. Even sitting, he dwarfed Silas and everyone else. He was easily over six feet tall, maybe even nearer to seven. She was strongly reminded of the basketball star from the 90s that did multitudes of commercials now; down to the ball head and dark skin, except that this man was not built like a basketballer. His naked arms were sculpted and his chest was much too broad in his shirt, more like the build of a rugby player.
Silas caught her eye from the head of the table and waved her over. “Come meet our guests, Nellie.”
She noticed the woman on the other side of Silas as she walked nearer. She was the opposite of Beast minus also having dark skin; petite in build with teased, pixie-cut hair that was colored a purple ombre.
“I was going to have you sit right there next to Brigitte,” Silas said, gesturing to the empty seat.
“Did you call her Nellie,” Brigitte asked, a slight accent. She looked her over. “This isn’t Perenelle, is it?”
“Amias’s little lamb,” Beast said. His voice was so deep it resonated in Nellie’s chest; his tone had mockery in it. He took his dark eyes off Nellie and put his attention back to Silas. “You said he was here?”
“At the end of June,” Silas said. “He’s long gone. Not to worry your pretty head.” He winked at Nellie. “Nor yours.”
“I can’t place which one she looks more like,” Brigitte said, leaning on her fist to stare more closely at Nellie. “She’s got those freckles like Brue did, but not as many. Which, innit funny that Regere’s name means ‘freckled’ but he was the clear skinned sibling?” She turned away. “Speaking of which, Evora’s sister made the papers the other day. Fell flat on her face at a fashion show.”
“A random fashion blogger’s page isn’t the papers,” Beast said dully, inspecting his cup. “Food is coming?”
The food was brought in before Silas could answer. Nellie was sure to sit up straight with her hands in her lap as her plate was set before her; she could feel Mrs. Adams watching her movements and didn’t exhale until the server moved onto Arch sitting at her side.
She spent the appetizer course and most of the main course being hyper-aware of keeping her elbows off the table as Silas, Beast, and Brigitte caught up with nothing of interest reaching her ears–-minus Brigitte's random topic switching every few sentences. She was content to say nothing to either Beast or Brigitte with Morgan’s plan looming in her mind. She cursed him under her breath for destroying an opportunity to be nosy with new people.
Arden–sat to Beast’s other side–set down his fork after side-eyeing the massive man all evening. “Since no one else is asking… How tall are you?”
Beast let out a thunderous clap of laughter. “Silas, where’d you get this one?”
“Britt’s kid.”
“Britt? Really? I do vaguely remember you saying she married. Was that really long enough ago for her kid to be this old? Ah, time is cruel.” Beast beamed at Arden. “Seven foot one.”
“Can’t forget that inch neither,” Brigitte said. “Goes completely apeshit.”
“Ms. Brigitte,” Mrs. Adams snapped, “language!”
“Like these kids don’t say worse,” Brigitte mumbled, keeping her voice too low for Mrs. Adams to hear.
The main course ended and dessert–triple berry tarts with thick, whipped cream–were set before them. Nellie tried enjoying hers but could feel Beast taking looks at her across the table. She accidentally met his eyes when she glanced over to confirm, smiling shakily as he gave her a forced smile.
“I think it's more Commander High Horse than Brue,” Beast said conversationally to Brigitte. “She’s got those same eyes.”
“She’s twelve, Beast,” Silas warned.
“Already?” Beast shook his head. “Time.” He gave Nellie a softer, more apologetic smile. “Your dad and I… tolerated each other. I apologize for the coldness.”
“Your mom was good for him,” Brigitte said. “Shame she died like that.”
Nellie dropped her fork with a clatter that drew the attentions of Morgan, Itzel and those at the farther end of the table. Her heart was pounding in her ears.
“Brigitte,” Morgan called from down the table, “your condolences aren’t necessary. It was ages ago.”
“Was that condolences,” Brigitte whispered across the table to Beast, looking perplexed. “Who’s the brat, anyway?”
“Morgan Agarwal,” Beast said quietly.
“What? For serious? Blimey, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”
“Oh,” Morgan called back down, “since I have your ear, there is something I want to discuss with the both of you after we’ve finished.”
Brigitte and Beast snickered to each other, murmuring over a child trying to use diplomatic language with them. Their dismissiveness was apparent when they tried to follow Silas to the small parlor after dinner only for Morgan–dragging Nellie–to cut them off.
“Did you think me joking,” Morgan asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Care to join us, Master Morgan,” Silas asked in mild amusement. He sighed heavily at Morgan’s icy stare. “Perhaps not.” He slapped Beast hard on the lower back (being where he could reach with their height difference). “I’ll get the whiskey ready. Neat?”
“On the rocks for me,” Brigitte said. “Like it extra cold these days.”
The four of them allowed a stretch of quiet as Silas headed into the small parlor. Nellie didn't want to be the one to break it even as it grew uncomfortable. She didn't want to talk to either of these people, let alone ask them for a favor. They kept studying her with mixtures of mild curiosity to mild dislike.
“The dining room should be cleared now,” Morgan said, gesturing over his shoulder. “I’m hoping this won’t be long enough for a sit down, but you did disrespect me already.”
Beast’s lip curled. “The tone on you, boy.” He loomed over Morgan. “You are not Regere. I don’t owe you any extra respect just for him being your father.”
“And I’m not intimidated just because you’re tall,” Morgan said, his fists clenched and shaking at his sides. “I’ve fought dragons too, and I have no magic.”
Beast and Brigitte exchanged a hard to read look. Nellie thought the nearest emotion was curiosity but wouldn’t bet on it. They gave a small nod, little shrug, and headed into the empty dining room. They both sat and stared expectantly.
Morgan grabbed Nellie’s shoulder as he stepped by her, gripping it like a walking stick before straightening his spin and going forward. She followed with her hands fiddling with the decorative bow tacked on her dress’s bodice.
“We require a discrete entry into China.”
The two adults let out a loud laugh that was just as quickly stifled by Morgan’s glare down his nose at them. They leaned back to allow Morgan to explain how they had been researching dragons in order to find Brue, and how Nellie wanted to speak with Rhys to cross reference things, as well as to ask if he knew a way of recognizing her in her dragon form.
“When Amias was here, he came with a message from my father saying that Rhys is in China,” Morgan finished. “I’m familiar with your work. I have full confidence–.”
“Can’t you talk normal at all,” Brigitte complained. “What’d Evora do to you, boy? I thought she’d be a better mom. Oh, speaking of–.”
“Don’t you talk about my mother like that,” Morgan said heatedly. His face was flushed.
“He’s over-educated, Brigitte, leave him alone,” Beast said, amused. “You must speak–what?--two languages? Three?”
“Three and a half,” Morgan fumed. “I’m conversational in German. Why is that a bad thing?”
“It’s not,” Beast said. “I’m not making fun. It’s impressive.” He twisted to look at Nellie. “You’ve said nothing during this, yet they’re your parents. Speak up, girl.”
“I don’t want to,” Nellie blurted out.
“Nellie doesn’t have to explain–.”
“Let her talk,” Beast said firmly. “Go on.”
She refused to meet Morgan’s eyes despite him dipping his head trying to catch hers. She kept her focus on her twisting hands, now jumbling together with the bow unmoveable. Her mind was just as jumbled as she tried to think of a way to avoid what she’d been avoiding telling her cousin for weeks, but there was too much static to think.
“I… don’t want to look for Rhys,” Nellie said quietly. Her head snapped up at Morgan’s sharp inhale. “No! That’s not…. I don’t want my life to be uprooted again. Moving is hard, Morgan, you have no idea. And you keep talking about–.”
“About the family being reunited! About us growing up together as we always should have!” He shook with fury. “Why let me waste hours of my time on this if you didn’t want any of it?” He scoffed. “You can’t tell me you like your little backwater town with its poor education and lackluster food?”
“I didn’t know about any of this, or any of you seven months ago!” Nellie was stiff-legged with her hands now fists. Her eyes flashed angrily. “You can’t expect to just drop my whole life for some fantasy life our parents dreamed up of us growing up together!”
“Why,” Morgan asked nastily. “Because of your aunt? She did lie to you, or is that too inconvenient a detail?”
“Ugh! Boy, you don’t shut up much, do you,” Brigitte whined. “Will you let the girl talk without jumping down her throat?” She looked at Beast. “Regere used to do that, you remember? Especially with Brue. Yap-yap-yap if he thought he could make himself look good.”
“Him and the Commander were always at odds in those first months,” Beast said, eyeing Nellie and Morgan. “Perenelle, you did have ample time to tell all this to Morgan. Why not?”
She stared at the floor as her anger ebbed away. Her mouth was dry and feeling all of them looking at her did not help.
“Because… because… I might not want to, but I think I have to.”
Beast’s lip curled. “Interesting.”
-------------------------
It just ends because I couldn't think of much else other than small back and forth that didn't really go anywhere except confirming 100% that Beast and Brigitte agreed to Morgan's plan. So, not something really needed. I think I was originally going to do more with the dinner/kids and that was why I had Calix go home for a visit, to lessen the amount of characters in the room, and I was going to have Arch leave too but I liked the idea of Arden and Fin harrassing him on the 4th too much. And I thought it was time to introduce the other part of the religious element with the Holy Cor since that touches on Penny's story (and Brecken's with his first serious love). The Order of Ferblanc was originally the Swiss Guard way, way, way, way, way back when this was just the vaguest idea of 'girl and cryptids' back in 2014ish. Something about teir clownish uniforms but knowing they're all highly trained amused me.
Beast is the same hieght as Shaq. I looked it up before having him declare his height to make sure it was something believable. But I guess that's all because I have to feed my overly tired, crying kid.
