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Treviso, 9:48 Dragon
"What the hell is that?"
Lucanis looked up, confused. "This is Mollete."
"That is not a snake." Illario stared at him, dumbfounded, as the sand boa curled around Lucanis' fingers. "That is a worm that got into a stash of plant fertilizer."
Lucanis glanced down at Mollete as the snake raised her head towards him, as if to ask "What's his deal?"
"Do not listen to him, principessa." He brought Mollete up to kiss the top of her head. "He is just jealous."
"Why would I be jealous of a snake that looks like it's head was smashed under a bucket?" Illario threw his hands up. "I do not understand how you can attempt to be intimidating with that thing as your pet. Imagine, coming to appeal to Lucanis Dellamorte, shaking in your boots as you approach the desk, and catching sight of that thing staring at you from atop your glove."
"This is my child, Illario. Show some respect."
"Is it even full grown?"
He glanced down at Mollete, coiled exactly once around his hand and eyeing Illario with an uncannily human suspicion. "Yes, she is."
"Some boa she is, not even long enough to strangle someone." Illario grumbled. "Is she venemous?"
Lucanis lifted Mollete to his face. "Venemously cute."
"Maker's breath, Lucanis…" Illario rolled his eyes and threw himself down in an armchair. "What will your paramour say when you show her this overgrown worm?"
"She is a woman of taste." He shuffled back over to his desk chair and sat. "Unlike some people. She will love her."
"I have exquisite tastes." Illario scowled. "Which is why I know that no woman enjoys a snake that small."
Lucanis pulled a face. "Snakes come in all shapes and sizes, Illario. There is a snake for everyone. Different strokes and all."
"Yes, but-" He stopped as Lucanis began cackling. "That is foul. You are foul. And so is that snake."
"My snake has just shed and the bedding is pristine, thank you very much."
"How much wine have you had to drink tonight?"
Lucanis stopped and leaned down to whisper to Mollete. "He is on to us."
Illario rolled his eyes. "Is it a drop day?"
Lucanis' eyes flicked to the small package on his desk with a letter tied into the twine. "Perhaps."
Illario sighed and got to his feet, straightening his waistcoat. "Well, then I will leave you be. Let me know what she says, yes?" He turned at the door and gestured broadly. "Once you finish, you know, servicing your snake."
"And you said I am foul."
Illario chuckled and shut the office door behind him. Lucanis sighed and lifted Mollete to his neck for her to settle. The sand boa draped herself under his collar as he pulled the letter from the package. He opened it and sat back in the chair to read.
Remi,
I am headed to Orlais today. Emperor assigned me to that serial killer rampaging through Emprise du Leon. I do not know how long I will be there, I get the feeling this contract will be in the range of a month. If that is the case, I will have my letters delivered to my apartment. Tango will be house-sitting and will leave them on the balcony.
The scarf you made is coming with me. It is beautiful, you have truly outdone yourself. And it smells like you, which is always a boon.
Did you get your snake? What is she like? Do you have a name picked out? I hope I get to meet her someday.
The book I sent has a snake as well, in honor of your new baby. Emperor reads to Emil on a regular basis (you did not hear that from me) and he loves it, he lays on his thumb like he's reading the page himself.
Let me know if this headache cocktail works, yes? I am trying out a new recipe.
Please be safe, darling. Don't do anything I would not do.
Elise
He smiled as he read the perfumed letter. They had developed code names early on; he was Remi, in honor of the fabled Remi Vascal of the children's tale "The Black Fox." She had chosen it for the way he had managed to track her down after the masquerade that began their affair, as though Teia hadn't told him exactly where to find her. Her moniker, Elise, came from her favorite piano composition. Viago was Emperor, Julien was Tango, and Teia was Empress.
They did not have a name for Illario. He could not tell her about him. She was too clever, she would sniff it out in an instant. He could not tell her about his family, because he could not bring her anywhere near them. He could not tell her who he was.
If it had been up to him he would have come clean in an instant; he nearly had the night they met. If Viago had not intervened it would have all been out in the open. They would have been married within the year, just one year after she had escaped the confines of de Riva Manor and the clutches of her foul Aunt Lucia. They were betrothed, and Caterina had orchestrated their meeting at the Mascherata di Decenni. She had orchestrated all of it.
The revelation and his resulting spite of it all was waning, however. It had been three years of secrecy and half-truths; he was exhausted, and he knew she was as well. If it weren't for the fact that exposing her to him would expose her to Caterina's whims he would have said damn it all, it was worth risking Viago's wrath. But she deserved better; she deserved better than him, better than a life being targeted by not only the public but any House seeking to usurp power as well. Simply being the family of the Fifth Talon may have put her on that list already, but she was not well known in her current position. Many of her high value accomplishments were assumed to be Viago himself (something that sent him into a rage if he thought about it for too long) and while there were rumors of a third de Riva sibling or an additional consort or cousin (due to her arrival at the Mascherata with Viago's entourage) nothing was ever confirmed. The household staff were sworn to secrecy; they knew the risks, and Viago payed them well enough to keep them quiet voluntarily.
He would not be the one to paint a bigger target on her back.
There was one option, drastic as it may be. They could run, but doing so would turn the Archive on them. They would have to be extremely careful, and he would have to get Viago to let him out of his promise, which was about as likely as a nug sprouting wings.
Either way it would come to a head. This could not go on forever. He told her time and again that she should not wait for him, that she owed him nothing; but she had stayed. Against all logic or reason she stayed.
Molette raised her head and bumped his chin. He looked down at her and she flicked her tongue out at him, staring at him with her oddly placed eyes.
"It is a long story." He chuckled and lifted the snake from his neck to meet her gaze. She tilted her head and he chuckled.
"Why do I get the feeling you understand me?"
She just flicked her tongue out.
"You are right." He sighed and stood. "You need something to eat. How do crickets sound?"
She flicked her tongue out.
"I'm going to take that as a yes."