The Golden Days, by lyradaemon
Disclaimer: Whatever you recognize belongs to Jacqueline Carey; whatever you don't is the product of my limited imagination
A/N: The story of a young girl, Simone, growing up in the Night Court
I always knew my calling.
Born into one of the old, minor Houses in Azzalle, I was brought up with the knowledge that one day I would serve Naamah. It has been a tradition in my family for centuries, and I was secure in the belief that I would follow in my ancestor's footsteps.
I was the youngest of three children born to Guillaume and Ambre de Toulois; it was decided that my elder sister Beatrice would be a Priestess of Elua; my brother Alexandre knew he was to be sent to the Cassiline Brotherhood. It is true, he was not the second son, as is the tradition, yet my father was set in his ways and was determined to see his only son as a respected Cassiline Brother. My mother was not so happy, but there was nothing she could do about it.
As for me, I was to be a servant of Naamah.
My childhood was like any other noble born D'Angeline child, days spent in idyllic frippery, playing in the meadows, swimming in the rivers, and, much to my mother's chagrin, climbing trees. My siblings and I played with the other children on the estate and the surrounding villages, heedless like all children of the class barriers. Looking back now, they were some of the happiest times I ever had.
Yet it was not to last for long. At eight years old I went to the City of Elua with my mother and was taken to the Night Court, the sprawling estates where the courtesans of Terre d'Ange learned their skill. It was one of the most revered places in the entire realm; and in other nations too, where to Servants of Naamah are almost legendary. Houses across the land would send sons and daughters to be initiated into the Night Court with the hope of them becoming renowned courtesans.
It was the same in my case. I was taken, as was customary then, to Cereus House, foremost of the Thirteen Houses; indeed, it was the first to be established. There my own House was to be determined.
I remember that day well; it was bright and clear, a beautiful summer day some two weeks after my eighth birthday. I do not recall much about Cereus House itself; it all passed in a heady blur. I do know that I brought before the Dowayne, a startling beautiful woman with the fragile, delicate beauty revered by that House; I still see her piercing grey gaze in my dreams. Her voice was warm and soft with a steely edge that was also, I am told, a mark of Cereus.
"My Lady de Toulois, welcome," she said warmly, bestowing the kiss of greeting upon my mother. "And this is little Simone?" She turned to me then and gave me the kiss too; it was the first time I had ever received it and I felt pride and joy well in me being. "Well and so; I assume I am to decide upon the House best suited to her." My mother nodded. "Very well: come closer, my dear, that I might see you."
I went to her. Her hand came out, slender and delicate like the rest of her, and gently traced my features, lingering over my eyes. Her own eyes were thoughtful, as if trying to solve a riddle. "Does she show any tendencies towards the canons of the Houses, Ambre?" She asked my mother, not moving her gaze from my face.
"Mayhap: I do not think that she is suitable for the, ah, delicate Houses," here the Dowayne flicked an amused look at my mother, "for she has hurt herself countless times and has never shown any evidence of enjoying it. Nor does she take pleasure in tormenting her brother and sister, nor the other children."
"So Valerian and Mandrake will not be gaining a child this day," the Dowayne mused softly. I started at the names; I had studied the Night Court relentlessly – not, I hasten to add, what they actually learned there; my mother would not allow that – but I knew the names of the Houses, and the canons of a few. Valerian and Mandrake were given to the more violent pleasures; at a mere eight years I did not understand what that entailed. Still, I remember feeling relieved that I would not begin my apprenticeship in either of those Houses.
"Does she sing? Play an instrument?" My mother shook her head. "Does she dream?" Here she looked at me.
I realized with a start that she wanted me to answer. "N-no, my lady," I said meekly, not daring to look away from her grey gaze. "I dream, but I do not…dream." I knew even then what she was asking; Gentian House is known for its dreamers, those who can interpret the dreams of others. I did not possess that gift.
"I do not think that you are fit for Alyssum either: modesty does not appear to your strong suit, little Simone. You hold a gaze too long." She sighed: "So, neither Gentian, nor Alyssum, nor Eglantine. What then?" She cocked her head slightly. "There appears to be too much fire in you, child. I do not think you would be acceptable to Balm House either." I was slightly startled at that: how does she know there is too much fire in me?
My mother cleared her throat. "Despite her age, Dowayne, she has not shown a desire for wealth: cost does not matter to her." It was true; I had received a relatively large sum of money for my eighth birthday, which I had spent – with my father's help – on a pony within a day of receiving it.
"Hmm, Bryony is a no then too. And I do not think you are right for Cereus; you are not delicate enough. Camellia is a possibility: she is a striking child, Ambre, and I think she would flourish there. Jasmine too, although she is not dark enough – her skin is too pale and her colouring is wrong. So perhaps not." Her eyes turned shrewd. "Where would you go, Simone, given the choice?"
"I-I do not know, my lady," I whispered.
"Is she a joyful child Ambre?" She asked.
"Betimes, Dowayne, but no more so than any other child her age."
"Mayhap you are not suited to the Night Court after all, little Simone," the Dowayne said softly.
Not suited? I could not think of anything more terrible. "No!" I cried, aghast at the thought of being rejected so soon. "My lady, I know I belong here. I know it; you cannot send me away!"
I heard my mother gasp at my rude outburst and begin to stammer an apology, but the Dowayne lifted her hand to silence her, a look of certainty set in her features. "My dear Ambre, you have nothing to apologize for. I believe Simone is suited after all." Here she looked at me. "Dahlia it is for you, child. I considered Heliotrope, but your determination has settled my mind. Do you know the canon for Dahlia?" I shook my head. "Dignity and Regality: 'Upright and Unbending'. Yes, I think you will fit very well there." At this point she turned to an adept who was lurking inconspicuous in the shadows. "Leila, have word sent to the Dowayne of Dahlia House: I have a child for him." The adept nodded and left, slipping quietly out of the door.
"My thanks, Dowayne," my mother murmured, dropping a curtsey and nodding to me to do the same. "My daughter and I are in your debt."
"Nonsense Ambre," the Dowayne replied, amused. "I remember you from your days in Heliotrope; you were ever a faithful Servant. I am merely repaying Naamah's debt to you. Your daughter was born for the Night Court, and it is my duty as the Dowayne of Cereus House to make sure that she enters into the House best suited to her." She looked at me. "I hope that you flourish here, little Simone. I trust you will make good use of the skills you will learn here, and that you will honour Naamah in every way you can."
"I will, my lady, I will!" I breathed, relief swamping through me.
"Then may Elua be with you, child," she murmured, rising from her chair to bestow a kiss on my brow. "And you, dear Ambre," she said to my mother, granting her the kiss of parting. "I assume you will be staying in the City for a while longer; I will see to it that all the necessary instructions are sent to you."
My mother and I dropped another curtsey, she murmuring her thanks and I scarcely able to refrain from shouting with joy. We departed then, and made our way back they way we had come, until we stood before the gates to Cereus House.
She turned to me, and enfolded me in her arms. "Well done, my little Simone. I am so very glad for you." Letting me go, she regarded me. "I know you will make your father and I proud."
"I will," I promised.
And so began my life in the Court of Night-Blooming Flowers.