“Bien sûr.” Beneath the coat she handed to Fallon she wore more white, a dress that skimmed down a curvy body to the ankles of white boots. “But The One is not people, no?”
“You’re wrong about that. Please, sit. Préférez-vous que je parle français?”
Vivienne’s eyebrows lifted as she let out a light, musical laugh. “Vous parlez très bien français.”
“Merci.”
“But I would like to speak in English. I wish to become more, ah, proficient.”
“All right.” Fallon turned, took the tray from Lana as she came in. “Mom, this is Vivienne of Quebec. My mother, Lana.”
“I am so pleased to meet with you, the mother of The One. I’ve heard many stories of you.”
“I’ve heard a few of you,” Lana returned.
“I am flattered. And you’ve troubled for me. Merci.”
She sat as Fallon set down the coffee tray.
“I’ll leave you two alone to talk.”
“No, stay.” Fallon took Lana’s hand. “Just us girls, right, Vivienne?”
“Delightful.”
“Milk, sugar?”
“Both, and the little cakes! I have no willpower against the sweet. I like the sweets and the pretty and the handsome men. Do you take both your handsome men for lovers?”
Fallon poured out the coffee. Sat. “No. Just one’s enough.”
“Me, I’m very greedy.” Vivienne took two of the frosted cakes as if to prove it. “I was a child when the Doom came, and there was hunger for some time after. My papa died in it, and Maman and I had to hide as I became. She feared for me, you see. And feared of me as well. I was only ten. She was killed before my thirteenth birthday.”
“I’m very sorry.”
Vivienne acknowledged Fallon’s sympathy with a nod. “The ones you call Raiders. I was not quick enough to save her, but I killed them all. And it was then I vowed, an oath on my mother’s blood, I would no longer hide, no longer live hungry or cold or afraid.”
She sampled a cake. “I would make a place, I took this vow, where no one killed a girl’s mother. I used what I have to make what I needed. Now I have Quebec. Or enough of it for now. A fine house and soldiers. Lovers.”
She bit into a cake with a smile.
“Slaves?”
“No. One has no right to own another. Servants, yes, I have servants. But they are free, they are not forced to give service. They have food, shelter, clothing. I give them work if they want it, and they are free to stay or to go. We offer protection from the Dark Uncanny, the Raiders, and the rest. These are my people, understand me. I do not go hungry, nor do they.
“This is very good coffee, thank you. We don’t have so good the coffee. We have traded for some, but not so good as this.”
“We’ll give you some beans to take back with you,” Lana said.
“That is very kind and generous.” Delicately, she bit into a second cake, licked a bit of icing from her finger. “Maintenant, my rule may not be as yours, but still we fight the same enemies. You have won a great victory. I would offer you an alliance. I have two thousand soldiers. Almost,” she added with another smile.
“You offer an alliance after a great victory.”
“But yes. If you had been defeated, my soldiers, my people would have suffered with yours. My council and my generals advise that you are most likely to advance on New York within the year. Perhaps within six months. I would be your ally. I would give my allegiance to you. I do not give it lightly. And I’ve chosen the light,” she added. “Not so bright, it may be, as you, but the light.”
“And for your allegiance, your two thousand, what do you want in return?”
“Quebec.” Vivienne folded her pretty hands with their sparkling rings in her lap. “Safety for my people, my realm. The promise you and your soldiers will not invade or take from me what I’ve made. What I may make still. You go north, those who fight there may go more north. May covet what I have. So, an alliance. Promises. Terms. My people will fight with yours, and you will respect and help protect what is my country.”
“I fight with my people. Do you fight with yours?”
“I’m not a warrior, but a ruler. Still, I guard what’s mine. I’ll kill to protect it.”
“Show me.”
Daintily, Vivienne set down her coffee, dusted crumbs from her fingers. And shifted.
Fallon studied the flame-red dragon with the glittering green eyes.
The red flame from the north, she thought.
“Impressive. And only the second I’ve seen.”
Vivienne shifted back. “We are few. I don’t know why. You saw another?”
“Twice. Larger, black. Of the dark.”
“It saddens me that when we are few, any would choose the dark.” With a delicate shrug, she lifted her coffee again. “Ah, well. I will not keep you, but I trust you will think about my offer.”
“I will.”
“I’ll get you some coffee beans.”
“You’re kind.” Vivienne offered a hand to Fallon as she rose. “I’m not unkind. I’m not unselfish. But I don’t see those as … Ah!” On a gesture of frustration she rattled off a phrase in French.
“In opposition,” Fallon told her.
“Yes, thank you. They are not in opposition. I am known to lie. To a lover, when it is … simple? I do not lie about life and death, about dark and light. I may lie to you,” she said with a gay smile. “But not about that.”
When Lana came back, she took the cloth bag offered, slipped it into her pocket after sliding back into her coat. “Thank you, very much. I will have a gift for you when I see you next. And I would send to you General D’Arcy if we proceed with the alliance. You will find him very clever.”
“Safe travels, Vivienne.”
“And to you, Fallon Swift. Madame.”
Fallon watched her walk out, move to her men. And, standing between them, flash.
“She’s … interesting,” Lana decided.
“And complicated. She has shadows, but she isn’t of the dark. Not like them. Not quite like us. An alliance. Two thousand troops.”
Fallon shut the door. “She has more than two thousand or she wouldn’t have offered two thousand.”
“Now that you say it, that wouldn’t surprise me. She’s canny. Canny is a good ally.”
“It could be. Let’s see what else anyone’s heard about her, what else we can find out. It’s going to be worth, at least, meeting this general.”
“You’re likely to get an argument from some quarters.”
“What else is new?” As they started back, she looked at her mother. “From you?”
“No. You’re going to need alliances. New York isn’t the end of it. You never told me about the black dragon again.”
“It was in a vision dream, with Petra.”
Lana stopped, gripped Fallon’s arm. “Petra.”
“She rode it, I think. It’s not all the way clear, and I wasn’t sure until now it was real. I need to talk to Mallick.”
“Let’s take some food down,” Lana suggested. “An alliance with a dragon queen might go down easier with some stew.”