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Camellia had concocted a special blend for the woman. The GreatLady often patronized Darjeeling’s Teahouse.
    Camellia didn’t know D’Ash’s companion, a boldly voluptuous woman with flaming hair and cream-colored complexion, but since her clothes were in the latest fashion and of the most expensive fabrics, she must be another high-status Noblewoman.
    “D’Blackthorn wishes to speak with you, Camellia,” the server said, identifying the other woman.
    “Take the counter for a moment, please,” Camellia replied. But as she walked toward the table, her pride in the HouseHeart trickled out, replaced by a stream of anxiety. Of course both of the ladies knew what real HouseHearts looked like.
    D’Blackthorn was the interior designer of Druida. If she said the design of the HouseHeart was poor and uninspired, she could ruin Camellia.

Two
     
    D anith D’Ash stood and offered her hands along with a smile, and the knot in Camellia’s stomach loosened. “Greetyou, Camellia.”
    “Greetyou, GreatLady D’Ash.” She took D’Ash’s hands and accepted a little squeeze before withdrawing her fingers.
    D’Ash sniffed. “Haven’t I asked you to call me Danith?” She turned to the redhead. “This is my friend, Mitchella Clover D’Blackthorn.”
    Current fashion had slits running up Camellia’s tunic with little material to grab and curtsey, though she managed a quick, discreet wipe of her palms on the cloth as she bobbed. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
    D’Blackthorn smiled, did a scan of the room. “You’ve done something quite unique here.”
    Camellia’s stomach squeezed again. Unique was one of those words that could mean a lot of things.
    Though she thought she was keeping a pleasant expression, D’Blackthorn must have noted something because the woman laughed. She held up a hand as if to stop any of Camellia’s racing thoughts of disaster. “A very unique and special place.”
    That wasn’t much better.
    “I’ll enjoy coming here. The food is wonderful.”
    Relief filtered through Camellia. “Thank you.”
    D’Blackthorn slanted a look at Danith D’Ash. “Danith was trying, again, to convert me to tea.” GrandLady D’Blackthorn shook her head. “But I’m a caff person and will remain a caff person.” Another look at her friend. “Though I did like that smoky tea enough to buy a few ounces.”
    Camellia featured several “smoky” teas. She’d have to ask the server which one D’Blackthorn ordered. “Thank you,” Camellia repeated.
    After pursing her lips, D’Blackthorn said, “Yes, you did very well here. A little mysterious, but comfortable. I don’t doubt that you’ll have continuing business. Definitely appeals to commoners and lower nobles as a place to aspire to, and would give comfort to anyone. Well done.”
    Huge praise. Now Camellia felt shivery with elation. “Thanks again.”
    With a considering look in her eyes, D’Blackthorn said, “I’ve meant to drop by Darjeeling’s Teahouse but haven’t done so. I’ll have to put that at the top of my outings list.”
    “I’ve always told you you’d like it,” Danith D’Ash said smugly.
    “And sometimes you’re right,” D’Blackthorn replied with the easy teasing of longtime friends. One more glance around, and then D’Blackthorn picked up her pursenal and moved to the payment counter.
    D’Ash remained by the table, studying Camellia. The GreatLady dipped her hand in her opposite sleeve pocket and drew out a card. “Come see me at MidAfternoonBell. I have a young FamCat who just came in who I think will suit you.” She followed her friend.
    Camellia stared at the business card. A Fam! She was torn. She’d love to have an intelligent animal companion, but she also had wonderful, delicate items in her house. She could imagine the tears, the crashes.
    But would she ever get another chance at a Fam if Camellia turned D’Ash down? You didn’t say no to the FirstFamilies. Not even friendly and generous