Gavin did not waste time with goodbyes. Mother had already granted him permission to leave, on the understanding that he would not return until the plague was eradicated.
He stopped by the kitchen to acquire two more servants to help Simmons move his chest and trunk into L’Marc’s carriage.
It was of polished dark-lacquered wood edged in brass. The driver was plainly dressed, and had his tie loosened. Gavin narrowed his eyes at the man. The horses, if you could call such a mismatched pair a set, stood before him. One stamped his foot, showing impudence.
When the carriage had first arrived, Mother had asked him, “Weaknesses: Hopwhist, Plumm, L’Marc?”
“Hopwhist is a lecher. Also a braggart and a bit of a liar.”
“Understatement.”
“Plumm is a drunkard and glutton. Prone to wild exaggeration.”
“And L’Marc?”
“You haven’t told me any.”
She never expounded on L’Marc’s weakness, saying only that Riley would know.
Sitting in the carriage with the three men now, Gavin thought, Mother did not tell me L’Marc’s weakness because she did not know. He does not have one.
Plumm was snoring against the wall. A half-burned cigar had fallen from his open mouth and was balanced on his chest.
Hopwhist was prattling on about a conquest some years before. He kept nudging Gavin in the ribs with his elbow and gesturing in the air the shape of different women. Gavin ignored the man.
He tried to sit as L’Marc did, with his hands folded in his lap, staring out the window. There was nothing to be seen in the darkness. The whole night the only passerby were three riders headed west.
At long last, Hopwhist fell asleep. L’Marc sat like a statue, saying nothing. Gavin fought his fatigue while L’Marc remained awake.
If a man his age does not need sleep, then neither do I.
Commerce Road was smoothly paved with large, flat stones. It made for easy travel. When the sun began to rise, L’Marc turned to him. He caught Gavin staring. Gavin glanced away, and then back when L’Marc asked, “Have you been to Kalden?”
“My mother says I have. When I was an infant. I sat for a painting.”
“I have seen that painting many times. I did not realize that you were in it. It is a grand portrait of all the founding Dukes.”
Gavin waited for more, but none came.
The silence dragged on. Gavin felt his eyes closing to the golden sunlight.
L’Marc’s voice startled him awake. “Did you bring attire for the royal court?”
Gavin thought of what clothes he had in the trunk strapped to the top of the carriage. He did not know if they were proper attire. “I brought some clothes. I packed so quickly.”
“It is no matter, my boy. I will take you shopping when we reach the capital.” L’Marc twitched the corners of his mouth. “That you may meet the king properly adorned.”