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After the funeral, Lucas walks slowly back to the castle with Solace, matching her pace to his steps. If she leans on him rather more than a healthy woman would find necessary, he makes no comment.
Their rooms are packed now. Solace's belongings are not many - the bulk of the objects belong to the children - Lucas has visions of his mother needing a small but serviceable merchant fleet to accommodate her grandchildren's baggage.
Lucas has obtained a trump of Flora - it is now time to say his goodbyes and pass through his wife, his children - and Pert, Nanny Starch and Gaston.
For a long moment he simply looks at Phillippe, peacefully asleep in Nanny Starch's arms. Then he leans forward and kisses his forehead, before smoothing the silky soft baby hair back from his face. When he sees Phillippe again, that will be thicker. Coarser.
He straightens, and picks up Hope.
"You will be good for your grandmere, yes? And for Maman? And for Nanny?"
A kiss for each nod of agreement. He holds her tight, as though he will never let her go ... and then at the last he releases her and sends her to take Gaston's hand.
So. Solace. There have been other women. There will, Lucas knows full well, be other women. But Solace ... her gentle ways, her unconditional love, her constant support ...
Her delicacy ... and his own role in it.
He is sending her away from the reality that might strengthen her.
He is sending her away ... from him.
He holds her for a long moment. He will forget this over time, as he had forgotten other women, the precise way she positions her hands, her little hands ... the feel of her fair curls against his cheek ... such fine hair. He will even forget how her veins show so blue against her pale skin.
"I'll come to you soon," he says and, lest that be taken for a promise he might have to break, "if I can."
Then he takes the trump and contacts his mother.
Afterwards, the rooms seem quiet, and empty. With two small children, the suite, acquired after their wedding, has always seemed a little squashed. Now it seems as spacious as all Versailles. Lucas wanders from room to room. His own things remain - enough to make life tolerable here in Amber, although other things will be going to Xanadu to reduce the soulless motel chic of his rooms in the palace into something that Lucas feels he might actually manage to sleep in - or, more importantly, wake up in with any desire to begin another day.
But it is not the things that have gone which are making the rooms so empty.
He finds himself bending to look under Hope's bed in case there may be a discarded toy. But nothing escapes Nanny Starch's eagle eyes. Favourite toys have been packed away to take, the rest have been given to less fortunate children in the city. Lucas finds himself with his back against the wall of the nursery, gazing sightlessly through the wide window out over the sea, his arms wrapped around Hope's pillow, trying to catch the elusive scent of her ...
The knock on his door surprises him into activity. Of course ... Prudenter. He had arranged to meet him after the funeral - the tobacconist who had been his spymaster until the Rebmans had so spectacularly blown his cover. Lucas had promised him new and challenging employment ...
Prudenter is to act as his major domo in Xanadu. His main task will be to have the house Lucas plans there started and quietly begin reconstructing the spy networks in Xanadu - although Prudenter's role is to be far more detached this time.
As for the house ... Lucas lays out the plans on a remaining table. He explains the location he has chosen on his scouting expedition in Xanadu with Martin; on a hill, yet with good access to water. A pretty town house is what he envisages, after the style of an aristo, and with room for expansion. Lucas is prepared to put serious money into getting the house he wants, and the infrastructure to support it. He reckons getting the cash flowing will definitely help the economy, anyway. And the house will, of course, be in the fashionable part of town. After all, Lucas will be living there.
At this point Gouter, Lucas' food taster and quondam private chef is called in. He too will be going to Xanadu - the men and women who work on Lucas' house will be among the best fed in Xanadu - Lucas has no doubts of Gouter's abilities, even when cooking in a cauldron over an open fire. And Lucas is also keen to encourage gastronomic development in Xanadu. After all, when he settles there, he will want some exclusive French restaurants where he can take Solace. Gouter is encouraged to show entrepreneurship - there will doubtless be opportunities for pie shops in the future. And kebab shops. Generic fast food - whatever the level of development. Lucas isn't planning on owning and running establishments. But it's a good pie to insert a finger in - and Gouter's cooking should ensure that what sticks to the finger will be worth licking off afterwards.
He concludes their discussions by explaining the arrangements that will be made for their journey to Xanadu, as well as he understands it.
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L: A Cousin's Funeral | Index | LII: Flirting in the Firelight
