(no subject)

[iniquiticity]

above all adrienne was most excited to quench the unending thirst that was her homesickness. even when she was used of the bread (too soft) and the spices (sharper than she preferred) and meat (unerringly unfamiliar), she knew it was not hers. and it was all worse because she had been dragged here, forced, by Inès du Motier, who had never noticed her until her brother had thrown himself into a war and come back someone you noticed. It was dangerous to be noticed by Inès du Motier. But Inès had seen Gilbert after Gilbert had spent his whole life pretending to be invisible, and then Inès had seen her, and she knew Adrienne could be dangerous.

“I think you are the perfect woman for the job, Lady Adrienne,” Inès had said, so sweetly, “For is there anyone they will think more affectionately of, knowing the disappearance of your husband?”

She could hardly deny the inheriting priestess. So.

There was something extraordinary about being vindicated. She had always blamed Washington for Gilbert’s death. And for her husband to appear in the middle of the night, and twist her for Washington – be hidden under Washington’s thumb for four years – and never say a thing –

–

She grit her teeth. Directed herself. So yes. The food she missed, and the easy sound of her own language, and without all those stupid customs.

“You think so hard I can see the steam roll off you,” said Angelica Schuyler, coming up behind her. She wore fashionable breeches and a long waistcoat and seemed immune to the rocking of the ship. “About the shark?”

That was what she had explained Inès as, to the ambassador. Adrienne had had some trouble characterisizing her, after all of this. On one hand, they’d been semi-decent friends, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Angelica Schuyler didn’t make friends. Angelica Schuyler had allies, and she was one of them. You didn’t want think someone was your friend when they were really your ally. And you didn’t want to think of someone as your friend when they were only your allies.

Fair enough. Adrienne wasn’t one for friends herself. With sister-in-laws like Inès du Motier, who needed friends?