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The day was warm, almost unseasonably so for mid autumn in Antiva. The last vestiges of summer clung to the air, reluctant to relinquish their hold on the busy streets of Treviso. But there was an undercurrent of anticipation on the wind, building like the storms that would grace the coast and bring life-giving rains in the winter months.
Ambroise always enjoyed this time of year, when the world seemed to slow around him as people prepared for the season ahead. There was a hope that permeated the land. One that was mirrored in the people who passed by chatting softly as he sat at Cafe Pietra sipping his favorite mug of coffee while having a few fresh churros.
He leaned back in his chair with an easy pose. His fingers idly drummed against the smooth surface of the table, the only sign that he was eagerly awaiting someone to join him in quiet company. Pale blue eyes scanned the crowds, until they landed on a fiery redhead as he nodded his deference her way.
“Lady Dellamorte, honored for you to grace me with your presence today.” He knew he didn't have to be so formal as she slid into the chair next to him, but she was the wife of his First Talon after all. And since they were currently in Crow territory, it seemed only fitting.
Yvonne's mouth twitched up in the barest of smiles, her mismatched eyes sparkling with mirth as her hands rested in her lap. “Now Ambroise, you know you can always speak plainly with me. We have been friends for far too long for such an official tone.”
He chuckled as he took another sip of his drink, grinning behind the cup before he nodded his agreement. “Maybe you are right, but I would hate to have the wrath of the First Talon if he found out I did not show his wife her due respect.”
There was a pause in conversation as a fledgling appeared to bring Yvonne her favorite drink, sitting it before her with a slight bow before he disappeared back to the shadows. The perks of being a queen among paupers, Ambroise mused, though he had never once seen her abuse her power. Quite the opposite, actually– she seemed to charm and soothe everyone who happened to cross her path. And he clearly understood how she had Lucanis and his demon firmly wrapped around her little finger.
As she settled in and took a leisurely sip of her drink he heard her quietly hum, a sound of contentment as her eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments. She had always been one to savor the simple things in life, something left over from the trauma of her childhood, he assumed.
“So Ambroise,” Yvonne began as she fixed him with her questioning gaze. “How is everyone? Especially Bellara? I was saddened to see you did not bring her with you today.”
He smiled fondly at the mention of his wife, something soft passing in the way his calloused fingers brushed his strong chin as he stared off into the distant horizon. “Belle is thriving. She sent me with some hearth cakes for you and the First Talon. They are not the same without real halla butter, you know.”
Yvonne chuckled at the mention of her old favorite from their days in the Lighthouse, one of the few things her dearest husband had never quite perfected as Ambroise produced a small package wrapped in white cloth.
“Oh I have been craving these…” she grinned as her entire face lit up with mirth. Her fingers brushed along the gift so affectionately wrapped with care. She could almost smell the wild scents of Arlathan wafting to her as her attention turned back to her old friend. “Please tell Bellara how much I appreciate the thought. You must convince her to come home with you for Wintersend. We are hosting a grand ball at the Villa. And I know I am not the only one who would be disappointed if you did not attend.”
She narrowed her eyes as she tilted her head just slightly to the left. Ambroise knew, of course, she referred to his brother. And while things between him and the older de Riva were amicable, he was aware Viago resented his decision to spend time away from Antiva.
“I will discuss it with Belle when I return,” he agreed reluctantly as he tucked an errant wisp of hair behind his ear. “I am sure she will want to be present. It will… be more of her convincing me, as I am sure you are aware.”
“I am,” conceded Yvonne as she raised her cup to her lips and took a small sip. “But there is another reason I request your attendance, my friend.”
She settled back into her chair, looking more tired than Ambroise had ever seen her as her shoulders slumped just a fraction. Not even during their battles with the gods had he seen her face look so pinched as her hand rested gently against her lower stomach. And his eyes widened a fraction as he noticed the slight swell there, though he did not pry as she quietly sighed.
“You know I am always here for you, Yvie–”
The way she rolled into herself made his heart clench in a painful way, enough to draw the old nickname from his lips as he leaned forward in his chair. His troubles with Viago were forgotten as he rested his arm on the table, hand reaching for her but not daring to touch. “If it means that much to you, then we will be there. I promise.”
There was the faintest of smiles that graced her face at his words, a brightness that seemed to return to her as she reached out and gently squeezed his hand. He knew her troubles had been… great since the loss of little Hugo. And he would never deny her the comfort of friendship if it could be spared.
“Thank you, Ambroise. I appreciate you, more than you can ever know.”
The pair then settled in for the rest of the afternoon, chatting as old friends do over all that they had missed. He was happy for what little support he could give his old friend. And she in turn was grateful that despite the years, she could always count on him to have her back.