Page 12 of Bloom
Aleric avoided looking at him and pointed at the large ottoman against the wall near the fireplace. “The top opens. You can keep your stuff in there since I don’t use it.”
“Thanks.” Jaime dragged the blanket over his lap. “Er, what am I supposed to do after I eat and dress?”
“I’ll come back after a while.”
Aleric left, and Jaime headed for the privy room while trying to clear the cobwebs from his head. He’d slept like a rock the previous night. The couch was long enough and quite comfy, but it’d been rather late by the time he’d finally settled. After he took a leak, he hurried to eat breakfast, although it was already partially cold. Oh well. He returned to the privy room to wash up and change.
Jaime had noticed the night before that there was no visible lock on the privy room door that led to Aleric’s bedroom. That meant the latch was on the other side, which he thought was quite odd. It was almost like he was afraid someone would try to get in through the privy room.
He’d have to later ask Aleric if anyone had tried robbing him. The Monet family held a court partly made of family members, and they had relatives of other higher-up families who came to visit since it wasn’t like they had real responsibilities for the most part. Lord Monet had built the family fortune up quite a bit with business dealings, and according to Jaime’s last landlady, they enjoyed holding large parties. It wasn’t like the expense meant much.
He dressed and sighed over the laces. The newer Soleilian style involved laces that started at the shoulder and went all the way down to the wrist. They were often used instead of buttons down the front. It was slowly spreading to Moria since he’d seen a rich man wearing a coat like that the last time he’d been over the border.
It was tedious to do them up. Why couldn’t they have stuck with laces that started somewhere on the forearm to keep the cuffs closed? Or regular buttons? Even some women's dresses now had sleeves that laced to the bodice. It was almost like someone had purposely thought of a fashion to make getting dressed a nuisance.
Thank Elira, Mother had taught him how to do laces as a child, and he’d remembered so he wouldn’t look like an oaf later. When he got to the end, he looped the access around a button hidden inside the sleeve and made sure it was snug. Trailing laces would be frowned upon, and he could imagine Aleric’s snotty attitude and words about commoners not even being able to dress themselves.
The coat had toggles so he didn’t have to spend ages lacing the front. Thank the Goddess Elira for small blessings. With everything complete, he took a deep breath before observing his reflection in the long looking glass by the door. He turned and plucked at the green coat, making sure it was straight. Thankfully, the cousin’s clothing was big enough so Jaime didn’t look like a sausage. He’d never properly fit into Aleric’s things.
It was beyond strange to see himself in silk. The embroidery on the coat was done in a pattern of gold leaves. He hadn’t worn anything so nice since he’d been a child who thought Mother and Father would live forever. Auntie had burned his last coat to ensure no one ever found it and questioned the finery.
At that moment, he should have been living in Moria and known as-
It didn’t matter. That time was over. He’d live and die as a commoner, and that was better than death as a seven-year-old. He’d come to terms with it a long time ago and hadn’t planned on being a part of anyone’s court ever again either.
Besides, common life wasn’t so bad even though he’d had a few lean times as an adult. This was only for a year, and he’d deal with it. Once Aleric was used to him, he might be nicer. He’d been a shithead last night, but he could mellow out a bit, right? He also might allow more in bed instead of treating Jaime like he was nothing more than a mouth to insert his cock into.
When he came out, Aleric had already returned, and he gave Jaime an odd look.
“What?” He glanced down at himself. His laces were straight, and he’d done the small toggles on his coat since they shouldn’t be left loose.
“You managed to dress yourself. Come on.”
Jaime followed him into the hallway, and Aleric locked his door. “What do you mean, I managed to dress myself? Did youthink I’d put my trousers on my head and wrap the coat around my bottom?”
Aleric gave a vague shrug and slipped the key into his pocket before starting down the hall.
“What are we doing?”
“We’re playing chess this morning.”
“Why? I’m no good at chess.”
“I didn’t mean you. Keep quiet and out of the way. If I tell you to do something, do it, and don’t bitch.”
Jaime followed him downstairs to a large day room where several other men and women in fine clothing had gathered. More than one had faintly similar features to Aleric, although none were quite so striking, and clearly, no one else had a Rowland parent.
Several tables for two had been set up. Perhaps it was like a tournament, and instead of clashing weapons or jousting, they’d fight with their minds. A man with greying hair, possibly a Master Steward, was writing names in a small booklet. A man complained because he wanted to be on the other team. The Master Steward frowned and crossed something out in his book.
Lord Monet was at the head of the room in front of the large windows where a longer table had been set up. He had the same silver hair, although age had dulled it a little. A couple of servants were setting up a sideboard, and one placed a wineglass in front of Lord Monet.
A few people said hello to Aleric, including an older man with silver in his hair and beard. He had orange eyes like Jaime. Aleric ignored the last man and proceeded to the long table. A younger man by the lord looked faintly similar to both since he had the same chin and nose. He was clearly the younger, half-brother. Zacharie's short, wavy hair was a dark blond unlike his Father, and his eyes were a muddy green. He cast his olderbrother a slightly annoyed look and took the drink a servant gave him.
“Jaime, get me a glass of Merry Meadow red wine and orange juice.” Aleric sat on his Father’s right.
Jaime headed for the sideboard. A couple of ladies were pouring wine for themselves, and they barely looked at him. When he glanced back at the main table, Aleric was speaking to Lord Monet. Jaime picked a bottle of Merry Meadow called Too Good For You. He was pretty sure the winery had burned down some time ago, and the owners had died in the fire.
He couldn’t remember what anyone had drunk at home before. Alcohol hadn’t been on his mind back then. As an adult, he preferred ale, beer, or whiskey if he drank.
