Breakfast Rendezvous

Chapter 13: Breakfast Rendezvous

Silva

I awoke in an unfamiliar bed, just ahead of first light. A familiar crow tapped its beak against the window, and I moved to let it in. After finishing my laundry and being certain that the lieutenant had retired for the evening, I wrote to the Coven, briefly summarizing the discussion for dinner and also explaining my plan for how to settle these matters. Their reply was short, with no signature, “We trust your judgement.” Having received permission from the Elders, it was time to focus on how best to accomplish my goals. The first of which was to get a better grasp on the likelihood of war. Viridia had alluded to conflicts bubbling at the border between Prydannia and the Hesperia Republic, and if war was on the horizon, I felt I had to do everything in my power to prevent it, or at least reduce the suffering it may bring. Which leads to my next goal: to find out the motivations of King Drakgard III. I still didn’t have the full picture as to why he would seek out the Coven. The MacCrows had framed it as totally ordinary. Like the Jormungs and the MacDoves reaffirming their commitment to the crown, the Mistborn Witches would be doing the same. But there had to be more to it. Something the King hadn’t shared with even his council. Finding that out would likely mean I have another goal to accomplish. I needed Shaela to trust me. I needed her to be on my side. Not just because she may key me into what’s actually going on in Prydannia, but also because my plan is a bit of a gamble, and she would have more at stake than I.

Standing at the window, I looked out across the MacCrow estate. While grand and beautiful, it was also lonely. Even with the number of staff the MacCrows employed, it was easy to imagine one feeling isolated walking the halls, tending the garden, living here. It was so different from home. I could imagine every face smiling, exchanging small gifts, helping with yard work, or cooking. Even when I first arrived and confined myself mostly to my room, Viridia constantly had guests coming and going from our home. They would always leave little snacks or small wooden toys and figurines for me. Had Shaela ever experienced anything like that? As I took in the scenery, a familiar sight caught my eye. A splash of red among the green leaves and bushes deep in the garden. Shaela was awake and up to something. From my perch, I couldn’t quite make out what exactly. Now’s my chance. I quickly donned the same travel clothes I had arrived in, hiding my face once more behind a veil, and trekked back down the halls and stairs to the garden.

I moved through the garden with care in my step so as not to alert Shaela. All the while, I sharpened my hearing to try to garner any information as I made my way towards her. Stopping at a large hedge, all I could hear was heavy breaths and some mumbling. I risked a peek around the hedge before quickly hiding away once more. She was exercising, seemingly in secret. I shifted back a bit to make my sudden appearance more natural as I rounded the hedges. “Ah! Good morning, lieutenant,” I feigned surprise, as if my own morning walk happened to cross her path.

Startled, Shaela spun to face me, posturing as if she were expecting a fight, “Shit. You’re the second person to sneak up on me like this.” Her posture returned to normal as she picked up her jacket and tidied herself. “It’s quite early? Did you have trouble sleeping?”

I thought back to the vast expanse of feathers and springs that made up my temporary bed. It wasn’t as if it were uncomfortable, and I’ve slept on bedrolls out in the woods, but something about the bedroom itself did unnerve me. “A little bit, yes. But I’m also an early riser.”

“Same, though I suppose that is self-evident,” Shaela chuckled, “A habit built in my early days at the Academy.”

“I would have guessed gardening was the cause.”

She took a moment to consider, “No, we would come late afternoon, when it had cooled off. Tutors took up my mornings. Your garden is tended to in the morning, then?”

“Harder to forget to care for a plant if it’s the first thing you do.” I shrugged, reflecting on Viridia waking me from my night terrors in the early morning and having me help her in the fields as a distraction. It was a poor distraction. Silently pulling weeds and watering plants leaves plenty of room to ruminate. But it would assuage my anxieties nonetheless.

“Since you are up early... Why don’t we head down to a cafe?” Shaela looked over her shoulder at what I presumed was her parents' room. We were in clear line of sight of our room windows, but just barely hidden from theirs. “An early morning walk never hurts.”

Her offer caught me by surprise, she had either read my mind or last night had sent us down similar paths for how to proceed in our negotiations. “That sounds lovely.”

“This way,” Sheala cocked her head one direction as she fastened her belt, saber and pistol returning to her sides, “We’re right at the back gate, may as well save us some steps.” And with that, we descended by foot down into the city, away from the prying eyes of the Lord and Lady of House MacCrow.

---

The crowded alleys I had witnessed upon my arrival were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it was because we were still about halfway from the noble estates to the city center, or perhaps Ludenbruh was a sleepier city than I had first imagined. My head swiveled from building to building, inspecting architecture that was well beyond anything we had built in the Coven. Massive stone or brick buildings with small overhangs lined the streets. They hung signs for cobblers, bakers, legal aides, navigators, and ship charters, every job you could imagine, all interconnected parts of the life of a Prydannian. Shop owners would peek their heads out to receive deliveries from young boys and girls on bicycles. In front of just about every door was a copy of the Ludenbruh Times. It had a certain charm that my view from above wasn’t able to communicate. The people here seemed to lean on each other much the same as the Coven did. It just looked different.

“You agreed to it, but I hope it’s not trouble that we didn’t take a crawler into the city. I realize I’m quite used to making this trip as of recent.” Shaela peeks over at me.

“It’s no problem at all. While not as grand as Ludenbruh, not having crawlers means we do quite a bit of walking down in the Mistlands.” Though we do have brooms. I kept that thought quiet for now. As of recent, she said? “What has made this trip part of your routine?”

We stopped at an intersection, and Shaela checked to see if any carriages were coming. “Hmmm. It’s a bit of a tale, perhaps I’ll share over breakfast.” A carriage did come, speeding by, pulled by a crawler.

“Now I’m curious.” I wasn’t sure it would be relevant to any of my goals, but any new information could prove useful. We continued down our path.

Eventually, the sun had risen enough to cast long shadows. The longest of which I looked up to see what was casting it. We were fast approaching a massive compound with tall towers that I had seen from my broom ride yesterday. “This is the military academy,” Shaela introduced it, without stopping even for a moment. “I’m afraid you won’t be getting a tour of it this time.” We passed a large gate where two soldiers saluted her. She must have caught them out of the corner of her eye as she quickly turned to return the salute. One looked like they were going to say something, but when our eyes met, they returned to their post, closing their half-open mouth.

“So is this the cause for your morning walks?” We had put a little distance between us and the guards, just out of earshot.

“Partially.” Shaela craned her neck to keep an eye on what was ahead. “We’re almost there.”

We were indeed almost there. Perhaps a block and a half of walking later, we arrived at a staircase that descended down to a shop whose windows barely peeked over street level. Following Shaela’s lead, we entered the shop, and the door chime jingled. The cafe was dimly lit, using oil lanterns instead of the electric lighting present throughout much of the city. A lone individual, presumably the shopkeeper, worked the counter and was presently occupied with preparing two cups of something, tea maybe.

“Shaela?” an unfamiliar voice called out softly.

The lieutenant and I both turned to find two Prydannian officers, a man and a woman, seated at one of the cafe’s small tables.

“Hank, Jane! What are you doing here so early in the morning?” Shaela smiled widely, approaching their table to greet them.

“We could ask you the same, but...” The man leaned to peer past Shaela at me.

I took the initiative and stepped forward to be alongside Shaela, “Lieutenant, if you wouldn’t mind introducing your friends?”

“Of course. This is Lieutenant Hank and Jane of the Prydannian Navy and Expeditionary Corps, respectively.” Shaela hadn’t mentioned their house when introducing them. “Hank, Jane, this is Silva, representative of the Mistborn Witches.”

I bowed my head after being introduced, and when I raised it, I found two dumbstruck faces staring back at me.

“Won’t you join us for breakfast?” Jane shook off the shock first and gestured to the two unoccupied chairs at the small round table.

“That sounds wonderful, should Lieutenant MacCrow be agreeable?” I turned to see Shaela’s response, but she had already moved to pull back a chair, beckoning me to sit, which I did, before joining the table herself.

The shopkeeper came over to the table, delivered two cups of black, steaming liquid, and then turned to Shaela and me, “A cup of coffee for you as well, Miss MacCrow?” Shaela nodded, then the shopkeeper continued, “And for you, miss?”

“They have tea as well, if you’d prefer,” Shaela spoke in a hushed tone.

“The coffee as well,” I answered as confidently as I could, never having had the drink before. The shopkeeper disappeared behind the counter to get our drinks. Hank slid a menu across the table for Shaela and me to inspect. It consisted of sandwiches and pastries, mostly. Eggs and bacon, and fresh fruit were available as well. I was hungry, but figured I’d follow Shaela’s lead. “What would you recommend?” I turned to face her, realizing I sat among three lieutenants, and that I’d have to change the habit I had just started building up of referring to her as such.

Shaela answered immediately, “Toast and eggs.” Jane and Hank stifled laughs. “It’s gotta what you need to get going in the day,” Shaela leaned across the table, antagonizing her friends, “and they have great jams here too.”

“I see,” I replied cordially.

“Oh, come now, Shaela, you brought her here for a reason, surely it wasn’t toast and eggs.” Jane chided. “Miss Silva, right? If you’re going to follow her suggestion, at least get the omelet in place of eggs.”

“How does Shaela take her eggs normally?” I asked.

“Fried, but not even in bacon grease or anything interesting,” Hank commented, crossing his arms and leaning back at the thought.

I peered out of the corner of my eye, and Shaela's fine complexion had been shaded a red-pink, particularly her ears. I grinned, grateful that my veil hid my face, so as not to contribute to her embarrassment further. We were delivered two more cups of coffee, and the shopkeeper awaited our order.

“The usual,” Shaela answered, staring ahead at nothing.

“Same as her.” I placed my order. I wasn’t sure if this would embarrass her further or relieve it. But no option really seemed like a win. I watched as Hank and Jane mixed in accompaniments to their coffees. Hank put a few sugar cubes and a splash of cream. Jane, less sugar, but still the cream. Shaela, on the other hand, added nothing, blowing on the coffee to cool it before taking her first sip. I did the same, still carefully keeping my face obscured. The drink was bitter, very bitter, but in a way quite different from black tea. I winced a little, taken aback by the strong flavor.

It must have shown in my eyes, “Do you have coffee in the mistlands?” Hank inquired, sliding the vessels of sugar cubes and cream towards me. “I don’t know how Shaela can stomach it like that.”

I recovered from my sip, and noticed Shaela’s face was no longer red, my own misstep may have caused some relief, “No, just tea. Is it a Prydannian specialty?”

“If I recall,” Jane answered, “it’s from far south, beyond the Hesperia Republic.”

“It must be difficult to get these days, considering...” I let the three officers fill in the blank. We hadn’t really discussed the border tensions, but Hank and Jane didn’t know that.

“Not really. We’ve been growing it on some of the warmer Midlands islands for a while now. And fortunately, they aren’t prime targets for raids or skirmishes.” Jane spoke freely.

Shaela’s eyes searched for the shopkeeper, who had disappeared behind a door, presumably to the kitchen. “We’re in public, Jane.”

“Sorry.” Jane shrank into her seat.

Not wanting the mood to fall further, I changed subjects, mixing sugar and cream into my coffee. “Oh!” I clapped my hands together in excitement, “Lieutenant MacCrow--”

She cut me off, “Shaela is fine.” I recalled her saying the same at dinner.

“Shaela. You had some story to share over breakfast.” As I finished speaking, the shopkeeper emerged from the kitchen, holding a tray with our meals. Hank had a spread of sausages, toast, beans, and more. Jane, an omelet with some fruit. I looked at Shaela’s order, which matched mine. It wasn’t much different from what I would eat back home. Before returning to the kitchen, the shopkeeper dropped off a few small glass jars of jams, along with some butter.

“I’d recommend trying each of the jams, they go well with butter on the toast too.” Shaela began smearing her own toast. “Go ahead and eat, and I’ll fill you in a little on why I was working out in secret, why this cafe has become a semi-regular stop for me, why we’re sitting here together, really.” And so I did, taking bites out of toast, sampling each jam, trying the toast with the egg, all while Shaela explained the forced leave her parents had somehow convinced the King and Admiralty was necessary, how it spread beyond just her and to every young officer who might receive an invite to a ball that wasn’t guaranteed to happen, and how the ball and the treaty have been used as an ultimatum as to if she’ll ever be promoted to captain. She was totally candid, taking care to swallow and speak clearly between bites of egg and toast and drinks of black coffee.

“Thank you for sharing, Shaela. That sheds a lot of light onto some of the strangeness of this whole ordeal.” I took a sip from my coffee. The sugar and cream had done wonders for its drinkability.

“I wasn’t sure if I would actually tell you when we got here.” Shaela took a long sip. “But since these two knuckleheads happened to be here, I figured ‘better me than them tell’ the story.”

“That’s becoming a theme for you,” Hank added, having finished his plate well ahead of the rest of us.

Shaela lingered in her own thoughts for a moment. She had just divulged a lot of information to a foreigner. To me. I’m not sure why Shaela seemed to trust me. I was under no obligation to protect that information, I was a risk to her getting back on track for her promotion. Maybe that was what caused her to share, or maybe the pressure of her friends letting slip half-truths might have pushed her. Regardless, I had assumed getting her to trust me would be the hardest part of today. Maybe she had trusted me from the start? There was one detail missing from her story, however, that of the border conflict. The general public must not know. I surmised from Shaela and Jane’s earlier exchange. I’ll have to probe more in private. The four of us finished our meals, sharing idle chatter. Shaela’s recount had reminded Hank and Jane of our diplomatic mission. The conversation became much more formal and meaningless, comments on the weather, the season’s change, and so on filled the air.

After some time, the shopkeeper came by and cleared our table. It was our sign to leave. We stood, and Hank and Jane both produced coin purses. “It’s my treat,” Shaela said, producing her own coin purse. She continued before either could protest, “So long as you don’t tell anyone we were here.” That seemed sufficient enough justification to accept the free meal, and Shaela placed a handful of Prydannian coins on the table before thanking the shopkeeper. The four of us stepped back outside, where it had grown considerably brighter.

“Pleasure, Miss Witch.” Hank shook my hand.

“Thanks for joining us.” Jane bowed her head to me, and then winked at Shaela, “Or I guess, not joining us right?”

“The pleasure was mine.” I returned a bow, and the two officers disappeared down the road. “And thank you, Lieutenant, for treating me to an excellent meal.”

“Shaela is fine, Silva.” Shaela was stern, lecturing almost. “I feel strange referring to you as Silva of the Mistborn Witches, and on top of that, this isn’t a military alliance. And while I’m proud of my service, I’m negotiating on behalf of House MacCrow. Call me Shaela.”

“Thank you, Shaela, for the meal.” My tone was apologetic.

“Of course. I’m glad you enjoyed it. If you enjoyed my recommendation, maybe you’ll come around to black coffee, too.” Shaela smiled as she spoke.

“Maybe,” I said unseriously. Shaela started off in a direction, beckoning me to follow. “Where to next?”