Treachery and Tea
The Mystery of Moriamis
Part 2. Dragons and Secrets
Noussoir du Marais, the infamous “brother” of Prince Malachie of Morlay-Malinbois, sat in the dreary sitting room at Fenswick Keep. He was having afternoon tea and an intriguing tête-à-tête with Princess Dolores Hillsbury, who just happened to be Malachie’s archrival, politically and otherwise.
Above Princess Dolores loomed two large imposing portraits. One depicted a stern old man, Duke Edward Hillsbury, the first Fenswick ruler of Fenswick, and Dolores’ grandfather. The other portrait was of an even sterner old woman, Duchess Margaret Hillsbury, Dolores’ mother who was often referred to as, “that old dragon of Fenswick
It occurred to Noussoir that he had heard from someone, somewhere, sometime before, something about Lady Margaret, as barren as the Sindhi desert…
But Noussoir was waken out of his reverie, when Princess Dolores asked her with the most pleasant of smiles, “And your dear brother, Malachie? How much does he know of this plot of impersonating Dame Diane de Moriamis
Noussoir knew that this is what the Princess of Fenswick wanted to hear, and this is what he came here for. Noussoir choose his words carefully and deliberately.
“My dear ‘brother,’” Noussoir began slowly, “is involved in everything. In public, he promotes the pretense that this stranger is indeed his wife, the Vicomtesse de Malinbois. And in private, he connives with her about everything.”
Noussoir could see the sense of satisfaction sweep across the Princess’ face, like a great hungry dragon that had just swallowed its prey.
But before this dragon could devour him as well, Noussoir sprung his surprise.
“I have heard them plot about you as well…”
This undoubtedly caught the Princess’ attention, and she suddenly sat bolt upright. But Dolores had regained her composure in but a moment, and her next question came with such nonchalance, Noussoir would have almost thought she was bored.
“Oh? And what do they plot about me?”
“Your downfall, madame princesse. They say they know of your secrets…”
For once in this treacherous affair, Noussoir felt in control. Noussoir dealt in gossip and rumors, lies and truths and half-truths, but most of all, he dealt in secrets.
And for better or for worse, Princess Dolores knew this.
“They know my secrets, you say? And you know my secrets as well?”
“Perhaps,” Noussoir answered, purposely elusive.
“And why,” asked Dolores, “should I trust you?”
Dolores knew she was now playing Noussoir’s game—blackmail, other people called it. Dolores also knew she had no choice but to play.
Noussoir did not reply.
“Well?”
Noussoir neither smiled nor frowned, but just took a sip of his Fenswick tea. The Princess was clearly growing impatient.
“How can I know that you actually know something? Do you even have proof?” challenged Dolores.
“Mais oui, madame princesse! I have it right here,” Noussoir responded confidently.
Dolores was quick to ask, “What? What is it?”
Noussoir took something out of his shirt.
“It is an item I took from Dame Diane—the new one.”
Noussoir held out his hand, and in his palm was a small statuette the size of a large apple. It was the figure of a dragon, curled up in a sleepy repose. The statue was carved out of fine ruby that shone with an internal fire.
Noussoir saw the Princess’ amazed expression, and continued to speak, in an almost flippant tone.
“Ah, I see you recognize it. Dame Diane—the new one—said you would. It’s magical, of course…”
“How did you…? How did she…? But that was ages… almost a lifetime ago… Even I…”
“Perhaps, you would like to have a closer look, Dolores?” Noussoir said smugly, noticing he could now call her by name without flinching.
But as Dolores reached out for the ruby dragon, the light inside the figurine began to glow brighter.
“What? What is happening?” Dolores asked, panicking.
“Th-this has never happened before!” Noussoir said, suddenly losing his confidence.
Noussoir dropped the statuette but the ruby-red light kept growing brighter and brighter. He had to shield his eyes but he was still blinded by the engulfing light.
All Noussoir heard as he fell to the floor was Dolores screaming in an almost inhuman voice, then the sound of a window breaking, and the flapping of large heavy wings.
