InsaneJournal

“Honestly, William, I’d no notion at all that you could cook,” Lady Allendale said, looking in surprise at the biscuit she had in hand. “This is wonderful, truly.”

Laurence flushed in embarrassment and pleasure. “Well, I couldn’t, not back home,” he confessed. “I’d never had any need to, not really, except, perhaps, to char some fish over an open fire when necessary. But I thought it would be prudent to learn myself; I couldn’t afford the services of a man to cook for me, when I’d first arrived, and so I’d hired Ignis to teach me. Mr. Scientia, I mean. You met him at my engagement party. But, well, once I started learning, I found that I rather enjoyed doing it. It’s quite relaxing, you know, and a pleasure to feed people who enjoy eating it.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Scientia,” Lady Allendale said, a note of uncertainty in her voice. “He seemed very well-mannered.” She hesitated, looking as though she were on the verge of saying something, and then, evidently, thought better of it.

There was once a time when Laurence would have let it linger there, would have moved on without that particular point of awkwardness being discussed; he’d have never spoken of something that his mother didn’t first broach herself. But more than his time in the Corps or in New South Wales, his time in Vallo, spent around their loose and easy manners, made him far more adept at navigating awkward conversations.

“He and his partners are all quite fond of one another. That sort of arrangement isn’t entirely unheard of in Vallo either; they call it polyamory, I believe.”

Lady Allendale’s shoulders released a little of their tension, now that she was free to ask questions about it. “And you and Lan Xichen, you don’t…”

“No. No, Lan Xichen and I are strictly monogamous,” he assured her, and she relaxed further.

For some moments, they sat in companionable silence, Laurence watching his mother as she studied the painting above the mantle, of the autumnal trees the same shade as Laurence’s hair.

“I’ll be returning home tonight,” Lady Allendale said, breaking the silence, and Laurence stiffened. He’d known, of course, but the reminder wasn’t entirely welcome. She set down her tea cup. “But I’m glad I was able to see you, and meet Lan Xichen. I would have never thought… Well, no matter. You and Lan Xichen are well-suited to one another. I’ve never seen you more happy. I’m glad I was able to see it.

Laurence could feel the surprised smile that crossed his face. He’d not often allowed himself to wonder about what his mother might make of his situation in Vallo, but he found now that it was as a weight lifting from his shoulders that’d never known was there.

They passed the rest of the evening in equal parts contented silence and conversation, the conversation livelier once Lan Xichen and Emily joined them, and ended once Lady Allendale asked to go outside in a warm shawl to wish Temeraire a fond farewell that lasted late into the evening.

When, at least, she could no longer hide her yawns, Laurence took her arm and accompanied her up to her room.

For some time, they stood outside her door, Lady Allendale regarding her son fondly. She’d not seen him since Napoleon’s invasion of England, when he and the other aviators had had over-nighted on the grounds of Wollaton Hall, before his prison sentence had been commuted to transport to New South Wales. She didn’t know if she’d ever see him again, in her old life, and while she knew that she’d not remember her brief sojourn to Vallo when she returned back to her own world and her own time, she wanted to memorize this version of her William. Well-rested and healthy, and most importantly, happy in a way she never thought she’d see her youngest son.

She reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand, and he leaned into the touch.

“I’m so glad I was able to see you again, William,” she said. “I’m so proud of you. I hope you know that.”

He blinked at her, surprised, and she wondered with a pang if he’d ever had cause to doubt it. She knew his father was hard on him, harder than he was on his other sons, and so she’d always tried to be gentle with him. Maybe gentleness hadn’t been enough.

“I have never stopped being proud of you,” she said, firmly, and felt a rush of guilt at the look that crossed his face.

He seemed to struggle for words, before he finally let out a hoarse,”Thank you. I’m glad, very glad, that you were able to come, and that you could meet Lan Huan. I love you, Mother.”

“I love you too, Will,” she said, warm.

“Good night,” he said, and bent to kiss her on the cheek, and then he was walking down the hall to his own chambers. She watched him go, waved to him when he stopped to look at her again before turning the corner. She entered her room and shut the door softly behind her.