Chapter five
The Fall of a House
by our trusted correspondent, Scaleheart
It is a matter of public record, and so I can say without redaction: Wintgomery house is no more.
Astute readers who have been following the story will know that after their dragon (named Quanzy) tilled their fields for the spring planting, the Wintgomery family loaned him to the army. Desperate for money (you remember the incident three years ago!), they decided not to participate in the summer derby season. Though this loweredtheir reputation — and therefore their ability to make breeding and trade deals considerably — it was all they could do to keep the house afloat. They also could not sell their dragon to the army, as is typically done, as they had no surplus dragon to give. Quanzy was their only asset.
Last Tuesday, Quanzy died in a brawl with another army dragon. He was four days flight from home, and by all reports dangerously nest-tetchy. (The dragon who killed him was little better, also recently taken from its home nest.)
I have an insider source who says that solicitors employed by C— house are already preparing a case against the Wintgomery family. There was a breeding deal in progress between the two houses, with a C— nest dame serviced by Quanzy. The eggs have yet to be laid, and C— house intends to withhold them. They argue (and the solicitors are confident they will win this in the courts) that because Wintgomery is no longer a dragon house they have no legal claim to any eggs.
Even if it was legal to buy a dragon egg, the Wintgomery family could never afford it. They have been scrounging for money for years, and this will surely be the end of their wealth.
The only possible route for them to get an egg is through a marriage contract, which they might just be lucky enough to execute. Young Miss Wintgomery is engaged to Mr. G—, though it is yet unknown if they have drafted the marriage contract. With the death of Quanzy, it seems unlikely they will be able to negotiate for an egg even if the wedding proceeds.
And so, Wintgomery house is no more. The dragoneers of Kinella will doubtless never mourn them, as they were an embarrassment to the kingdom for the last decade, anyway.
Chapter six
Four days later, Mamma swept to and fro, making sure her four daughters were ready to be presented. The Nethenabbis — Mr. Louhan and his sister, Miss Nedine — would be arriving any moment. Her daughters must be arranged as prettily and neatly as possible. They were gathered in the blue sitting room, with its elegant sofas and armchairs ready to receive their esteemed guests.
To Alyce, the eldest, Mamma cupped her strong chin and turned it from side to side, inspecting her strawberry blonde hair for loose strands. There were none, as Alyce had dutifully pinned it up into a fabulous bun, with twisting braids and a ringlet framing either side of her face. Mamma left her with the benediction, “My lovely Alyce, if there is anyone who can impress such a gentleman as Mr. Nethenabbi, it will be you.” Alyce gave a smile in shy acknowledgement, her thin lips prettily pulling as her kind hazel eyes crinkled at the corners.
Valeraine was on the sofa next to Alyce, and received from Mamma the compliment of, “Stop slouching. You mustn’t distract from our dear Alyce.” Mamma was already moving to the next daughter as she added, “Alyce, will you fix her hair?”
Valeraine had carefully done her hair into a braid, then into a bun. Perhaps she hadn’t put as much time into the process as Alyce or Selaide, but she would not have been out of place in town. Alyce’s clever fingers were reshaping Valeraine’s work now, without judgement. If only Valeraine had a mirror, so she could see what changes were being made. With Alyce’s skill, it would look better. Perhaps Valeraine didn’t want to know how much better.
For her third eldest daughter, Merna, Mamma had given up chiding and correcting years ago. Valeraine envied this position, but was not quite willing to go to the drastic measures required. Merna had cultivated a thoroughly unfashionable wardrobe (accepting all the worst of the hand-me-downs, worn in the least appealing ways, and never asking for anything new) and a severe hairstyle, devoid of any ornamentations or curls.
Merna knew where to draw the line in her small rebellions, and missing this tea entirely would have been pushing Mamma into a rage. So she was present, on time, and sat in an armchair, reading a book. Though Merna may not increase the impression of loveliness of the Longbourn sisters, she could at least be trusted to lend a sense of dutiful scholarship and soberness, which balanced Selaide, the youngest, quite well.
Selaide was watching at the window for the Nethenabbis to arrive. She exclaimed, “They’re coming! Their carriage is a beautiful blue number, all adorned in golden filigree.”
“Get away from the window, Selaide.” Mamma bustled closer and tugged her away from the spying spot. Mamma then peered blatantly through the window, eyeing the wealth ofthe Nethenabbis coming up the drive. “We cannot have them thinking we are too eager to receive them, hanging on the view.”
Selaide returned to the window next to Mamma, so both of their faces looked out to accost the approaching carriage.
Mamma absentmindedly pinned an errant curl of Selaide’s hair back in place (which Selaide had purposefully left out to be more fashionable). Then, to the room at large, she announced, “We will take tea in the sitting room, so everyone may wait there for Mr. and Miss Nethenabbi.”
As they were already all in the sitting room for this purpose, no-one paid her much mind.
Mamma sat down on a sofa next to Papa, who had been installed there for the better part of an hour, reading a newssheet, avoiding the storm of Mrs. Longbourn by the simple expediency of never giving it any mind or doing anything to which she could seriously object. He had invited the Nethenabbis over for tea, he would introduce them all, and he would smile politely. To take initiative and do more was to intrude on Mamma’s domain, and he knew the risks of that.
Kesley entered, freshly shaven and washed, free from the sweat and smells of the nest. He sat in the spot next to Valeraine, which she had kept vacant by laying her embroidery project (several weeks neglected) on the seat. Now, with everyone seated and with two open armchairs ready for their guests, they were ready to pretend that it had all been no trouble at all.
The Nethenabbis were ushered in by the butler, and everyone in the room rose to greet them.
The Nethenabbis were of typical Fellarik coloring, with dark mahogany skin and black hair. Mr. Nethenabbi was tall, and strikingly handsome. His full lips were in a pleasant smile as he walked confidently to exchange a handshake with Papa. His clothes were immaculately tailored to display his lean torso, tight but tastefully so.
His sister, Miss Nedine, was even more striking. Her black hair was done in dozens of neat braids which had then been orchestrated into a magnificently intricate bun, decorated with ribbons that matched the sage green of her gown. Miss Nedine’s neatly manicured eyebrows made their appraisal of the Longbourn household known, and Valeraine felt they had already been found wanting.
Mamma elbowed Papa, and with this cue he began introductions. “These are my four lovely daughters: Alyce, Valeraine, Merna, and Selaide. Here is my wife, Mrs. Longbourn, and Mr. Kesley Sidton, who has cared for our dragon for many seasons.” He then said to his family, ironically aware that this part of the introductions was pointless, “This is Mr. Louhan Nethenabbi, and his sister Miss Nedine Nethenabbi.”
The Nethenabbis sat, and bland pleasantries were exchanged. A maid came to pour them all tea.
“Did you hear of Wintgomery house?” Mamma asked. “It’s dreadful news.”
