Upon returning to his quarters after the eveningâs festivities, Heinrix expected an encrypted message from Calcazar. What he did not expect was the small parcel on his desk, with a handwritten note attached.
He picked it up, frowning, and turned it over to find a blue wax seal impressed with the signet of von Valancius. No, he realized on closer inspection, it was a personal coat of arms, belonging to a particular member of House Valancius.
He smiled faintly. For all her professions that Eugenia-6 had not been keen on the âflouncy, antiquatedâ traditions of nobility (as she put it), Evanelia had adopted some of them quite readily herself. If he didnât know any better, he might even think she liked them. And if she did, he thought, as he ran his fingertips over the sealâs surface, could he really fault her for it? There was something grounding about old noble traditions. Something tactile, something sensory to remind the body where it was when the mind was determined to be somewhere else. A reassuring formality to lean upon when the terrain made it too difficult to keep oneâs footing spontaneously.
He found himself on such terrain far too often as of late.
With a pang of sentimental reluctance to damage it, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
Heinrix,
I have gifted most of the others in my retinue with finery suited to their tastes for tomorrowâs celebration. However, I would never presume to tell an agent of the Inquisition what to do, even in a matter as trifling as telling them what to wear.
He snorted aloud.
Nor would I ever dare to insinuate that your tastes might deviate in any way from the tastes and standards of the Inquisition. So I will leave the question of your attire in the Holy Ordosâ most capable hands, and instead provide you with an alternative gift.
Heinrix unwound the ribbon holding the parcel shut and let the paper fall open to reveal a heap of silver chain and semi-precious gray stones. He lifted the chain slowly from his palm to reveal an engraved silver aquila that had been hidden beneath the beads, suspended from the bottom of the loop. Upon further examination, he noticed that the beads were strategically spaced in 7 groups of 3.
The psykerâs chaplet, he remembered distantly. Some of the gray stones flashed with different colors in the light as the chain twisted and swayed.
It is made with a sturdy chain, with interwoven knots of chainmail between each cluster. It should resist tangling or breakage, and prove quite practical even for a lifestyle as unpredictable and combat-prone as that of an Inquisition agent. I hope it serves you well.
As for the other side, Heinrix's first gift to Evanelia -- spoilers -- he eventually comes around to the idea that she might just be dead after she goes MIA in Commorragh (he figures out that that's where she must be). So when they start making arrangements for a funeral and finding a new heir, he quietly asks Danrok to track down a specific kind of flower and have it preserved in glass to be placed at her tomb in the mausoleum. (Danrok very courteously doesn't mention the whole 'hey that sounds like an Immortalium kinda' thing.) But of course it turns out Evanelia is alive, so then there's a whole Thing where Heinrix forgets about the flowers (because he has a lot else on his mind and is kind of in a weird space emotionally), it's eventually ready and pops up in Evanelia's study one day, Heinrix has to say SOMETHING so he awkwardly tells her he sought out for it when he thought she was dead as a sign of mourning, she's not familiar with Immortaliums and doesn't realize it might have any deeper significance (or how WEIRD it is) so she goes "oh that's so sweet, and it's super pretty, I'll keep it in my office! :)", Cassia loses her marbles when she sees it and the fangirl in her gets very annoyed at Heinrix for chickening out instead of making it a big romantic gesture properly.
