Page 19 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
Valeraine wanted to bring the conversation around to something more exciting, like gardening, or dishwashing, or even crop rotations.
But Mr. Nethenabbi ducked his head, and said softly, “It wasn’t the housekeeper, actually. Design is somewhat a hobby of mine.”
Perhaps furniture provenance was his favorite topic after all.
Alyce jumped into the conversational gambit, asking after furniture piece after piece. She seemed genuinely interested, but it was hard to tell with Alyce. She could just be being cordial.
For every one, Nethenabbi had a story to tell of how he had gotten it, and arranged it, or had it made just so, or painted it himself (though he was quick to add that his skill with a brush was still minimal, and shy to add to that he hoped to learn woodworking one day).
Pemberley watched stoically, a glacier of indifference. Nedine got a little crease between her brows.
Finally, Nethenabbi asked, “What do you think this room needs? I haven’t quite put my finger on it yet.”
Alyce considered the question seriously, taking a turn around the room, contemplative and attentive. “Perhaps these drapes could be replaced with ones more airy for the warmer months? The rest of the room is so delicate, these seem to stick out.”
Nethenabbi took Alyce by the hands in glee, then quickly let go of them, embarrassed by his own forwardness. “That is exactly what this room needs.”
Mamma was going to be so pleased.
“Louhan, we should show them the nest,” Nedine said. “I am so sorry for my brother,” she said to Alyce. “He can get so carried away.”
“No, I —” Alyce stammered.
“Yes, we’d love to see the nest,” Valeraine said. She stood to join Alyce. “Thank you for indulging my sister’s love of decor,” she said to Mr. Nethenabbi.
Nedine and Mr. Pemberley also stood, joining the party.
Valeraine’s excitement of seeing dragon eggs was somewhat tempered by having to endure Pemberley there.
Nethenabbi led them outside to the nest, which was under construction. Workmen were installing great trusses on one end. In the center of the nest site was a canvas tent. A servant boy sat on a chair outside the tent, keeping watch. Nedine took the lead in ushering them inside. The five of them fit, though the tallest, Pemberley, had to duck his head.
In the center of the tent was a great wicker basket lined with many blankets. Nedine pulled one aside to reveal their nestled contents: three dragon eggs. They were larger than Valeraine had imagined — over a foot across. They had an iridescent quality to them, shimmering and showing off their colors and delicate patterns. If Longbourn had but one of those…
Nedine curtsied low until she was sitting on the tent floor and put a protective hand on one of the eggs. “This is an Azazres Peregrination, one of our specialty breeding lines. These othertwo are a Kinellan common and a widewing. I will be their hatch-mother, when they emerge.”
“When will they hatch?” Valeraine asked.
“Dragon eggs always hatch in the winter, of course,” Nedine said. “I will be here to give them the woman’s welcoming touch, and tame them.” Her tone left no doubt that the hatchlings would be blessed to receive her accomplished tending. “I know you have little knowledge of eggs, so please ask as many questions as you wish.”
Now, Valeraine found that she did not want to ask. Each question would only display her ignorance, and in extension the utter lack of experience her house retained. There had not been a hatchling at Longbourn in hundreds of years. Nedine had likely learned at the foot of her mother how to care for a hatchling, knowledge passed down the generations.
That instruction had also been at Longbourn once, Valeraine reminded herself. Those generations were simply long, long gone. Her mother had never touched a dragon egg, and neither had Valeraine. Though her father had once ridden in the derbies, he had retired from that long ago, and would most certainly not approve of his daughter taking a turn at it now, if he knew. Papa had been so absent from the practical workings of Longbourn nest that he couldn’t tell the difference between Kesley’s style of riding (Lelantos fighting him for every bank and landing) and Valeraine’s. Her secret was safe.
Nedine, seeing Valeraine was not going to ask another question, enthusiastically carried on the conversation herself. She rose to her feet and addressed Pemberley, “People say a woman is accomplished if she can speak many languages or play many instruments. From my vast experience with languages and music, I know these skills are mere trifles compared to taming hatchlings. It requires a delicate touch.” Nedine laid her hand on Pemberley’s arm. “Wouldn’t you say so?”
“I agree the title of ‘accomplished’ is often given too freely,” Pemberley said. “Of course it encompasses a command of the arts and sciences, but also more than just hatch-mothering. I have seen women who tame the hatchlings, then shrink at the sight of an adult dragon. A truly accomplished woman is one who can both handle older dragons and nurture the hatchlings.” Here, he looked at Valeraine, as if emphasizing her lack of experience with hatchlings.
“I would be surprised if such a woman exists,” Valeraine said. “If she is busy with all of the arts and sciences, how will she then also master hatch-mothering? Then learn to manage older dragons as well, a completely different skill? Dragons are the project of houses, of generations of family, and to expect one woman to take it all on is lunacy.”
Pemberley seemed to consider her point, then discard it. “My sister spends much of her time with our hatchlings, which keeps her quite busy. However, she also has experience with our adult dragons. It must be difficult to see from the vantage point of Longbourn house, with only one dragon. But if a woman comes from atruehouse, she is exposed to dragons of many different ages and attitudes.”
Valeraine wished she was a man in that moment, so that she could angrily tear off her glove and demand satisfaction. Longbourn was a true house! But she remembered Mamma’s warnings to support Alyce. She must be measured in her response, polite.
“I am not surprised,” said Nedine, cutting in with her rude elegance, “that you are unfamiliar with truly accomplished women, Valeraine. Your sociality here in the countryside is so constrained. In Kinellan City, I have met many women whom even Pemberley would call accomplished.”
“Even in Kinellan, the women fall short of my expectations,” Pemberley said. “The so-called ‘accomplished woman,’ forexample, may have the fault of pride, or to play manipulative games with her suitors.”
Valeraine was unsure if it was a desire to contradict Pemberley or to defend the accomplished ladies of her own sex that prompted her to say, “You’re too harsh. Even if a person has flaws, that does not neutralize their accomplishments. Each person is on a road of improvement, and deserves our patience with it.”
