‘Much better? In a completely impersonal, objective sense?’
There, he thought . That was a smile. A knowing smile.
‘Of course.’
Aubrey eased himself into an armchair in a cosy drawing room toward the front of the embassy. George disappeared in search of a late lunch. Caroline took up a chair opposite Aubrey. She frowned at him without saying a word.
Aubrey let this arrangement stretch out for some time. Partly because his ribs were aching a little, but partly because it gave him a chance to gaze at her. He was trying to work out a way to tell her how much he appreciated her company when Lady Rose and Prince Albert rushed in, followed by Quentin Hollows.
‘Aubrey. You’re hurt.’ Lady Rose glared. ‘What happened?’
‘Ribs,’ he said, ‘but that’s not important now.’
George appeared with a large tray in his hands. ‘Ah. Sorry. I’ve only scrounged up enough food for three.’
George disappeared again but was soon back with another tray piled high with sandwiches. In the meantime, Aubrey had sketched out the events of the afternoon, without mentioning his improved condition – the secret he’d only shared with George and Caroline.
Prince Albert sat back in his chair. He studied the ceiling for a moment. ‘Strange times in Fisherberg.’ He pursed his lips before going on. ‘I’ve just come back from seeing the Elektor. Leopold is horrified at the prospect of war, and he thinks many Holmlanders are on his side.’
‘But I thought the Elektor was a warmonger,’ George said. ‘At least, that’s what all the Albion papers say.’ He grinned. ‘I actually just said that I believed what the papers say, didn’t I?’
‘Beating the patriot drum is always a good way to sell more newspapers.’ Aubrey touched his chest. The mark the Beccaria Cage had left had already been fading by the time he’d reached the infirmary, but it still itched a little. ‘How widespread do you think this opposition is, Bertie?’
‘It’s hard to say. Leopold’s probably more than a little out of touch with the man on the street. He actually called them peasants at one stage in our conversation. With affection.’
‘So where is the impetus for war coming from? Apart from Dr Tremaine,’ Lady Rose asked.
‘The Chancellor,’ Aubrey said.
‘And many of the aristocrats,’ Caroline put in. ‘There is a culture of bullyboy bellicosity among them.’
‘Bullyboy bellicosity? Nicely done, Caroline,’ George said. ‘Can I steal that for a headline?’
‘Of course,’ she said, with a solemn tilt of her head.
‘It’s neat, but what does it actually mean?’ Aubrey asked.
‘I remember,’ Caroline said, ‘when we were living here, how both Mother and Father would talk of the way so many of the barons and counts and dukes spent hours poring over battles in Holmland’s glorious past, how they loved inspecting new warships, how they adored a uniform. Even as a young thing, I thought it was frightening.’
‘Frightening?’
Caroline shook her head at the memory. ‘Count Horstein was someone who was working with Father on Indeterminacy Theory. I always thought he was a nice man, but once he told me that he hoped I’d grow up to marry a soldier, as there was nothing more glorious for a young girl.’
The image made Aubrey extremely uncomfortable. ‘So that’s the sort of people we’re dealing with.’
Lady Rose stood and made her way to the door. Prince Albert accompanied her, but before leaving, she stopped and turned. ‘Aubrey. I need some assistance tomorrow preparing for my lecture. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like you to help me.’
‘Tomorrow?’ Aubrey’s plans to locate the rest of Sylvia looked precarious.
‘I have people to meet, papers to organise. You’ll be well enough, I’m sure. Light duties only.’ She turned her attention away from him. ‘Caroline. You’re free, aren’t you?’
Caroline looked at Aubrey, then George. ‘I...’
‘Excellent. What about you, George?’
George glanced significantly at Aubrey. ‘I’d like to, but I have to find someone here in Fisherberg.’
‘A female person, if I know you,’ Lady Rose said.
‘An acquaintance,’ George said. ‘A friend of a friend, so to speak.’
‘As long as it’s not someone that the lovely Sophie Delroy should be jealous of.’
George coloured and picked up a suddenly fascinating teaspoon. ‘No, I think I can assure you of that.’
‘Tomorrow, then, Aubrey, Caroline.’ Lady Rose tapped Prince Albert on the arm. ‘They think they’re being very mysterious and careful, but it’s obvious that something is afoot.’
The Prince wrinkled his brow. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’
‘Conspiracies, plots, shadowy negotiations.’ She regarded them all with a sceptical eye. ‘You’re probably all set to save the world again. Just don’t mess things up.’
With a warning shake of her finger, she swept out. The Prince shrugged and followed her.
Hollows frowned. ‘Is there anything I need to know?’
Aubrey looked at George and Caroline. They looked back at him, then at each other. ‘I don’t think so,’ Aubrey said.
‘No assistance I can give? No equipment?’
‘Thank you, sir. We’ll ask if we can think of anything.’
Hollows stood. He shook his head. ‘Your father wrote to me, you know, telling me about you. About all of you.’
I’d love to see that letter, Aubrey thought. ‘I hope we’re not disappointing you, sir.’
‘No, that’s not it at all. I’m astonished, to tell you the truth, at some of the things he told me. Strictest confidence and all that.’ He paused. ‘But just as your father wrote, seeing young people like you makes me think that the future is in good hands.’
The ambassador left.
‘Quite the diplomat,’ George said.
‘Oh?’ Aubrey managed to say.
‘Yes. Very diplomatic of him, not pointing out how much you looked like a codfish, flapping your mouth like that after he told you what your father wrote.’
‘Now,’ Caroline said. ‘Aubrey, you must rest before tomorrow.’
‘Rest? I’m well enough.’
Caroline’s eyes widened as she looked past Aubrey’s shoulder. ‘Why, it’s the Elektor! Your highness!’
Aubrey twisted around to see the unexpected visitor, and let out a yelp as his ribs reminded him that twisting was a bad idea at the moment.
No-one was there.
Carefully, with one hand pressed against his ribs and doing his best not to show any pain, he turned back to his friends.
‘You’re quite well, are you?’ Caroline asked sweetly.
The next morning, before breakfast, George was waiting for Aubrey in the corridor outside his room. He broke off from his studying of an Albion oil painting (a landscape with more haywains than could possibly be good for it) and took Aubrey’s arm.
‘Look, old man, you know that von Stralick isn’t my first choice for adventuring companion.’
‘Hello, George. Didn’t you sleep well?’ Aubrey had. Restful, composed, and the medical treatment – both magical and non-magical – had worked startlingly well. He had no pain from his ribs at all.
‘I volunteered to go with him so you could go with Caroline. You need to spend some time with her.’
Aubrey shook his head. ‘You’re a fine friend, George, and I don’t deserve you. But I’m afraid it’s a hopeless case.’
‘Hopeless case? What’s this? I’ve never heard you give up on anything.’
Aubrey paused, chewed his lip for a moment, looked at his shoes, then answered: ‘If I’ve learned anything in the last year or so, it’s that I’m not infallible. And that I have strengths and weaknesses.’