Enjolras and Courfeyrac, once over their first excitement, settle down more or less to normal, turning their attention to the foibles of their elders, the intricacies of their studies, and the progress of Joly's latest bout with influenza. Jacquette disappears, to be replaced by Angeline; the undercurrent of tension generated by their shared secret gradually subsides.

Toward the middle of September, Enjolras comes home to find, amid his scant mail, a somewhat imposing letter. The gist of it, under the excessively formal phrasing, is surprisingly mild, even diffident: if M. Enjolras would care to continue the conversation begun a few weeks earlier, would he kindly present himself at such and such a place and time?

Enjolras, after some quiet consideration of his own and a brief, encouraging talk with Courfeyrac, arrives at the appointed spot somewhat early. If the prince has brought guards to mind him after he eats lunch in a fine restaurant, they are not immediately in evidence. There is, however, quite a crowd of effusive monarchists clustered around him, all murmuring praises of his fine father. Enjolras frowns at this, then takes a deep breath and presents himself in the same manner as the rest of the sycophants, with a deep bow and a murmured, "Your Highness."

Ferdinand brightens perceptibly, it is difficult to say quite how. "Good morning. You are punctual, aren't you? A moment, if you would--"

Enjolras nods. His face goes expressionless as a fine old lady brushes past him and introduces herself.

There are several minutes of strained courtesies before she is gently shooed after the rest. Ferdinand turns back to Enjolras with a slightly crooked smile. "Forgive me, monsieur. Do sit down."

"It's quite all right," Enjolras lies smoothly as he sits. "You wished to see me, your highness?"

"I did," relaxing a little. "Unfortunately, for every person I wish to see..." he shrugs good-humoredly.

Enjolras smiles a little. "It must be unpleasant to be in the public eye."

"One grows accustomed-- You're well, I hope?"

"Yes, quite well, and yourself?"

Quite." That said, he pauses, seemingly at a loss. "Do you--"

"Do I what?" Enjolras asks after a moment.

Ferdinand blinks at him. "You are not quite what I thought."

Enjolras looks bemused. "I'm not? What did you think I would be?"

"I don't quite know. Intelligent-- in which I can hardly have been mistaken. Charming -- in which I certainly was not. But--" a small gesture. "I had forgotten, or had no chance to notice -- you don't have much use for polite chat, do you?"

The first two give him pause before he manages to address the third. "Polite chat, your highness? I think that would entirely depend on whom I was addressing. If I were speaking with my mother, perhaps, or with a child, then it would be sensible to speak of superficialities. With yourself, however, there seems little point, as you are intelligent and educated enough to hold a fine conversation on a variety of subjects of merit, and one need not address you with a long discourse on the state of the clouds and whether or not it is good for the wheat to have so much rain." He smiles a little. "Unless, of course, you would rather discuss novels and inanities, in which case it is certainly your prerogative to change the subject."

Ferdinand sits back a little. "Well. I suppose I invited that."

Enjolras bites his lip and looks at the table. "I'm sorry."

"Are you really?" skeptically, but without rancor.

Enjolras looks at him for several moments too long before answering. "I didn't mean to discomfit you. I regret that."

Ferdinand smiles faintly. "I thank you for the sentiment."

Enjolras bites his lip. "I fear I'm not as good company as you were expecting, either."

"Oh, but you are," and quite suddenly Ferdinand grins at him. "Will you find me hopelessly affected if I say that you are refreshing?"

Enjolras chuckles and seems to relax considerably. "That makes its own sense, in a way."

"Does it?" cheerfully. "That's reassuring."

"It is." Enjolras falls silent, smiling at him a little.

Ferdinand shakes his head. "I suspect your bad opinion can be rather devastating."

"I would like to think so," Enjolras says with a shrug. "Although I am still not certain that there are not situations where it is better to convert one's opponents rather than alienate them further with cruel words, however valid."

"Diplomacy has its virtues," Ferdinand agrees. "Though you seem rather hesitant to espouse it."

Enjolras raises his eyebrows. "Do I? It is a wonderful tool if one is working in a context where it is valid and can accomplish something. If both sides are not amenable to negotiations, it has no power or value."

Ferdinand mirrors the expression. "Except, perhaps, that of misdirection."

"Misdirection," Enjolras repeats. "But that is not diplomacy by the definition I was using, your highness. That is merely lies."

"An admirably blunt answer," grinning again. "But there are times when the dividing line is not terribly clear."

"Sometimes," waving a hand, "I suppose that one's allies go ahead when one tries to negotiate, and then even honest diplomacy becomes a lie. But it was not, then, an intentional lie." Enjolras smiles a little. "History may perhaps forgive such a thing, although contemporaries will not."

Ferdinand studies him. "Do you think so? It depends on the instance. Many things may seem forgiveable that look like rank dishonesty at a century's remove."

"It is fair to say, then, that the verdict may fall either way and, in fact, change with time?"

Ferdinand chuckles. "'It all depends' is generally a safe answer to anything."

"But your Highness, one cannot write a code of laws that say such a thing." Enjolras frowns a little. "They must be universally applicable to function at all, or it would all depend that it was the lady the judge was fond of, or that the defendant's cow had run through the judge's garden, so that the first case is found for the lady and the second against the man with the cow. That is not justice, and no good judge would function so, but many men with a small taste of power lust for more."

"Just so." Ferdinand shrugs. "So one may say that the verdict may fall either way, but that observation has limited value -- to anyone trying to decide how polite he needs to be."

Enjolras glances away. "This is true."

"What's the matter?" watching him curiously.

"Do you think I've been rude, then?"

Ferdinand blinks. After a moment he says gently, "By no means. I was speaking in general."

"I see." Enjolras smiles fleetingly. "Now you understand why I am not much for diplomacy, monsieur?"

"I suppose so," after a minute.

"If I had the skills necessary to do it well, ah, then I would be more in favor of it." He smiles again, consciously. "As it is, too much diplomacy is necessary, even to talk about nothing."

Ferdinand chuckles. "True enough."

"Shameful, isn't it?" Enjolras says, looking wistful.

"How so?"

"It's hard to seem friendly if one is unwilling to engage in light conversation for the sake of diplomacy, and while -- as I am going to be an attorney -- I am not terribly concerned with seeming friendly, it is also rather difficult." He shrugs a little. "I'm sure you're quite good at it."

"Sometimes," mildly. "I suspect it's not so much a question of aptitude as of patience."

Enjolras nods. "I see. I suppose I'm not terribly patient."

"No?" with a glint of humor.

"Not particularly, no," grinning at him.

Ferdinand grins back. "I am amazed, monsieur."

"Oh? Why?"

"I would never have supposed you impatient," with mock gravity.

Enjolras assumes an attitude of solemnity. "Would you be so kind as to explain

yourself?"

"From your distaste for introductory pleasantries -- not to mention your habit of arriving ten minutes early--"

"It took at least that long for your, ah, admirers to disperse," Enjolras objects, smiling again.

"-- exactly -- I conclude that you are a singularly patient man with an eye to every eventuality."

"When I believe that I have something to gain by patience," Enjolras allows with a nod, "I can wait."

Ferdinand smiles at him. "I don't doubt it."

"For instance, I can speak with you now, and there is no throng." He spreads his hands.

"Indeed," smiling at him. "And a fine state of affairs it is."

Enjolras smiles back. "So it is."

"Going to be an attorney, you say," after a pause. "That seems--"

"What?" Enjolras blinks. "Did you say something?"

"Nothing." Ferdinand smiles again, self-deprecating. "Inanities."

Enjolras chuckles. "It can't be worse than what I was thinking. Don't worry."

"Oh? What was that?"

Inexplicably, he blushes. "I was thinking that I enjoy your company."

Ferdinand laughs. "Is that so terrible?"

"Not at all."

"I enjoy yours, as well." On such simple ground, Ferdinand seems suddenly shy.

"What do you do with yourself, apart from your studies?"

Enjolras thinks a moment before he answers. "I have quite a few good friends. We -- talk a great deal, really."

"Seriously and profoundly," teasing him gently.

Enjolras smiles. "Sometimes."

Ferdinand grins. "Only sometimes?"

"We talk about all sorts of things. Sometimes we're entirely serious, sometimes it's whether someone's mistress has been untrue, sometimes it's about the latest play someone has seen." Enjolras shrugs a little. "It varies."

"Weighty subjects indeed," smiling. "More often the latter than the former, I should hope."

"Almost always, yes." He smiles back. "I'm quite fond of drama."

"Are you?" Ferdinand watches him, to all appearances keenly interested in the answer.

"Yes, I go rather often."

"We should go together, one day." And then Ferdinand blinks, as though he's surprised himself. "At least--"

Enjolras blinks, then grins. "That sounds splendid."

Another blink, and then a shrug. "Why not?" His mind made up to it, he looks, not only pleased, amused, but delighted, like a gleeful child.

"I can't think of any reasons, for me, at least. When do you think you might be free?"

Ferdinand frowns in thought. "I couldn't say. But soon. Shall I let you know?"

Enjolras nods. "Yes, please do."

"Splendid." The look of bright enthusiasm lingers a moment, then fades again behind decorum as he gets to his feet. "Until then."

Enjolras stands and gives him a shallow bow. "Thank you for your time."

Previous   -   Next