Another cab ride, another destination, another stop on the road to making Thayer feel comfortable. At least at this stop she could be certain that the walls wouldn't ooze mildew, that the beds wouldn't collapse when sat on, that walking across the floor wouldn't result in the castanet accompaniment of a hundred broken roaches.
It was a last resort, and like all last resorts, had only presented itself after the exhaustion of many seemingly less inviting opportunities.
Her breath was shallow and her cheeks flushed. The cab driver didn't notice, and Thayer was in no state to see the subtleties. But she noticed. Hard for her not to, of course. This place, this building, were as much a part of her as Mendellia was of Thayer.
Lenka Leannan had come back home, just as her parents had always said she would.
The door squeaked in the silence, the mountain of uncollected mail and circulars beneath the letterbox keeping Lenka at bay until Thayer awoke from his stupor long enough to lend his weight to the cause.
Eventually, the door opened wide enough to admit the two comrades, and Lenka kicked despairingly at the dead tree that had been delivered, on the installment plan, to her family's Parisian townhouse.
She turned to look at Thayer, or, at least, what remained of Thayer. Certainly something wasn't there anymore. Lenka hoped it was temporary, but her gut instincts told her otherwise.
"My Lord?"
Thayer looked blankly ahead of him for a second, then slowly turned his head to look in Lenka's general direction.
"It's been a long day. Do you want to sleep?"
Thayer continued looking ahead blankly, until two neurons in his brain connected. He nodded once, slowly, and said, simply, "Yes."
She took his hand and led him gently up the stairs. Opening the door to a guest room, she stood back and watched him walk inside. She shut the door behind him, allowing the man some privacy for the first time in this most tempestuous of days.
And some for her as well, not that she welcomed it.
Thayer stood still in the centre of the unfamiliar room. He was at rest, still for the first time since he'd stood frozen on the bank of the River Seine. Alone and unwanted, his breathing was slow, his actions dull and unsuited to a ruler who had led his forces into battle.
Slowly, he laid himself on the strange bed, in the strage room, the wall on the wrong side of him, the bedside cabinet too close, the wardrobe entirely too large for such a small room.
He sighed. Everything was unfamiliar now. His whole life.
Lenka moved unthinking through the house, fragments of shouted words and louder silences rising from the depths of her subconscious. Here, the doorway where she'd had that first furious row with her father. There, the bookcase whose politically radical contents she'd destroyed in a fit of teenage pique. And here...
Her fingers brushed lightly over the just-familiar outline of the ornament, slowly removing the layer of dust that had gathered on it. She remembered throwing it against the wall in that last dreadful argument. This one, and others like it. It had been inexpertly repaired, and shoved away where few would see it. That would have been her brother's doing, she knew. Leysha had always hated the arguments, always been the one to seek reconciliation between her and their parents. In his last letter, he'd mentioned becoming a diplomat, and she smiled at the thought.
She began to wander again, remembering the happy times and the sad, the angry times and the joyful. In here...
Her room, and Lenka stared at it in astonishment.
Thayer stared at the ceiling. His mind was carefully blank, and he was humming a tuneless ditty that had done its annoying rounds in the Student Union bar in his final year of university. Anything, he felt, was better than facing the reality of his situation any longer.
Eventually, the tune ran its course, and Thayer was almost grateful to return to his task. He thought of what faced him, his mother, his opponents in the cabinet who would use his weakness as political capital, even the Ladies in Waiting who would see him not just as fair game, but game with a leg missing and no sense of sight.
Thayer shuddered. Almost better to stay in Paris than return home to a country where courtly intrigue would be operating at its highest level since long before Thayer's time.
Well, to hell with it, Thayer decided. He had a duty to his people to be the best ruler he could be. If that meant ruling alone, then that would be the case. He certainly couldn't imagine himself finding anyone after...
He choked down a sob, determined to remain stoic, the vision of a strong, dependable, reliable ruler, whose emotions were never allowed to...
He choked down another sob, or tried to.
Oh, damn...
It hadn't changed! It had no right not to have changed! It had been nearly three years since she'd left. Three long years in which she'd worked every job imaginable for a young woman alone in the world. Almost every job, anyway. And through it all, her parents had maintained her room as she'd left it. Oh, it was a lot tidier now, but still...
Eventually, and ironically, she'd become a Lady in Waiting to the exiled Queen of Mendellia, Llessur Atner. Ironically, because her own parents held views on the idea of a non-constitutional monarchy, and the ills that such a system brought.
Eventually, because it had been the sort of job she'd always wanted. Something to spite them for pulling her away from her friends when Eugor Atner had taken power. Given her choice, Lenka would have stayed and fought against the unrightful Dictator, joining the Resistance movement and fighting his rule. Lenka had a burning hatred with her for those who'd just accepted Eugor's rule and gone on with their lives.
Much to her consternation, after a few weeks working for Llessur Atner, Lenka had discovered no small amount of distaste for her mistress as well. She wondered if her parents would have appreciated the irony.
Lenka's position wasn't exactly a secret, and especially since her parents were now in Mendellia, they surely knew of her work. Lenka wondered if they saw it as a betrayal of what they'd taught her. At one time she'd really hoped that were the case. Now...
She looked at the ceiling, almost able to feel the restless spirit in the room above. She knew from her work how badly a disruptive family could damage another's life. Now she was coming to realise, in this haunted house, exactly how badly it had damaged her own.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, brushing a hand quickly over each cheek to wipe away the tears that were suddenly there.
When she got home, Lenka thought, she'd go home.
The next morning dawned bright and cool, an early mist slowly burnt away by the rising sun. Thayer awoke, his worries momentarily banished by the bright light streaming through his window. He sat up, and for a second, he remembered only that he was in Paris. The thought was enough to bring a smile to his face.
Then he remembered the details of his time in this once-beloved city, and his shoulders dropped.
Lenka was making pancakes when Thayer arrived downstairs. She smiled up at him, and he managed a watery smile in return. Smelling the pancakes gave him pause for a second, and then he laughed.
"Of course it is so," he said. "For, after all, do I likely not face another battle on my return home?"
And with Lenka's confused eyes upon him, he snagged a plate, and began to eat.
Really, Lenka's pancakes were almost as good as Becki's.
M. Agneau bounded up to the cab, bleating happily as Thayer and Lenka disembarked. Thayer paused to pay the driver as Lenka crouched down to stroke the woolly lamb. Soon, the group was joined by Bertie, who clasped Thayer in an enthusiastic embrace, and bowed low over Lenka's hand.
"I'm afraid you missed them again!" he said, after the initial welcomes.
"Them?" Thayer said, a little distracted by having to check his ribs for fractures.
"Your friends," Bertie said. "Mademoiselle Bush, and M. Cochran and the others... In fact, you only just missed them. Betty, no, Becki and, um, Josh, is it? They arrived just as I was going back to bed after taking Renoir for his early morning walk."
"They arrived alone? Together? I mean..."
"Yes, separate from the others," Bertie said, oblivious to any deeper meaning.
"I see. Well, Uncle Bertie, I'm afraid we must go-"
"I understand, my dear boy. You know you're welcome here anytime, but I'm sure you're watching to catch up with the lovely Mademoiselle Bush."
"Oh, very much so, Bertie," Thayer said, keeping his voice light as Lenka hurried to the barn to prep the airspeeder. "I think Becki and I will have much to say, once we finally catch up to one another."