The Bond - 13. Chapter 13

“Lady Talia,” said a housemaid in reverent submission, “it is such an honor welcoming you back home.” The girl was genuflecting herself in such a way that Talia could only see her one knee sticking out from her skirts on the ground and the hair on the top of her head. It wasn’t a servant that Talia remembered, but she admitted to herself that she really didn’t remember many of them. The view from above wasn’t helping either. Most all of the house staff was outside the front entrance to the Di Coteau manse, bowing or kneeling or showing some sign of respect for the people that had just arrived. Talia thought the whole affair was a bit pompous, and grabbed the servant by her elbow gently to indicate that she could rise up.

“Yeah,” she said. “Thanks.” She made a noise somewhere between a growl and a gurgle, drawing back and launching a ball of spit and phlegm into the nearby grass. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, cracked her knuckles, and looked the girl in the eye. “I’d like to be alone now.”

Clearly she’s never served me before, thought Talia. The girl’s horror at Talia’s manners was detectable – though ever so slightly, as the girl clearly had training in keeping her composure – and she was doing all she could to continue her polite smile. Talia smiled carnally, and saw that slight hint of fear in the girl’s eyes that she had been hoping for. Most of the house staff tended to avoid her unless she bid them not to, and she certainly should not be the first person to be greeted. There were officials much more important than her, but this just told Talia that the girl was new. I wonder where Meredith is? Shouldn’t this be her job? At least the etiquette on this one is good.

The servant bowed her head once more, and then went on to greet the three generals that Talia had been traveling with. Talia figured that she would also be shortly addressing Fran La Croix, another general that was just arriving. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been rude. The task was huge, and a new servant in the face of generals would probably be nervous. Oh well. She shrugged, and began distracting herself with the pandemonium that surrounded the outside of the manse.

Talia looked around the yard, which was covered in tents and caravans. The tents stretched almost all the way to Mullansburg, and the noise was incredible. Talia felt like the capitol city had come to her home, and it wasn’t the relaxing return that she had been anticipating. Instead, her every sense was heightened, every nerve on end. Her pupils were dilated, taking every bit of information that she could process in. She also listened to snippets between people here and there, scanning the crowds for any sense of danger. She knew vaguely that most people there were probably doing the same, but large gatherings of Nabians were unnerving, and rightly so. She looked back, and took fleeting interest in the party led by General La Croix.

Her men look strong, but she… General La Croix was getting old, at least by Nabian standards. At age 68, Fran La Croix was the second oldest general in Nabius. During her prime, she had been the best archer that Nabius had ever seen, excelling both in close range shooting and long distance kills. She, like Jack Du Vance, another general of the thirteen, was more a placeholder than anything else. Too old to do much battle anymore, those two generals ruled their lands and were spared many assassination attempts out of either respect or practicality. General Du Vance was a peevish old man, who had survived as a general by making pleas and bargaining with information rather than by force. His land was near the Tomacian border, but was separated and walled off from it by a chain of mountains. He had never really fought much in the Tomacian-Nabian war, and thus he hadn’t really acquired much. Instead, he cowered with his back to the mountains, keeping the value of his lands and towns to a minimum so that no one would ever covet them. When it came to his survival, Talia certainly believed that it wasn’t out of respect that other Nabians left him alone.

He’s smart to keep his value low. But now… Talia knew that General Du Vance’s potential worth might increase exponentially soon. In a nation-splitting vote, every input counts. If a resolution was not found in the upcoming vote and it came to war, his spot and lands would become a target of any potential sides. If there comes a time for war… he’ll probably be one of the first generals to die. She listened in closely, and heard that a good deal of the conversation was about Du Vance. I’ve only just arrived home, and already I’m hearing discussion of Jack Du Vance’s weakness. She shook her head, continuing to look around her. From the vantage point of the hill on which the Di Coteau estate was seated, she could see a huge variety of banners and sigils represented in the crowds. Almost every general had arrived.

Refocusing on Fran La Croix once more, Talia thought that perhaps she was different from General Du Vance. Her soldiers were camped next to Marie Lafeye’s troops, which made sense. General Lafeye was Fran’s niece, and both women were excellent military commanders. They had dedicated their lives to the art of battle, and excelled where many did not. General Lafeye was more new to the position of general than Fran La Croix, but both were still well respected, patriotic Nabians. Their combined experience in creating battlefield plays and sieging strategies probably was greater than even the Di Coteau or Clarion families’. Talia’s father Darion had frequently consulted with General La Croix, so she was certainly a player to be taken seriously.

I wonder if the old lady act is just to get people to underestimate her. Assuming that it probably was and that she should be wary of Fran La Croix’s men, Talia decided to entertain herself elsewhere. She shrugged her shoulders, and looked over at a few more of the banners that were on display surrounding the house. One group of people dressed in all white caught her attention quickly. She realized that their skin and hair being completely white as well was why they stood out so much amongst the other camps, and she resisted the urge to openly stare. From way atop the hill they never would have even seen her, but Talia still felt obligated to be respectful. This was the first meeting of the thirteen that she was of age for, and everyone was watching people of her caliber. She circled her eyes around the area, before looking back to see the banner. Fray, she thought, recognizing the name from her schooling at the academy. That’s right. The Prince of the Illjard is here. This was exciting, and it made Talia have something else to look forward to.

I wonder when he got here. And I suppose all this time, he would have been dealing with Luca, instead of my brother. Talia looked back at Alexandre, who was now formally greeting General La Croix. Not a drop of hesitation on his face at all. She smiled, proud to see that he was holding his own quite well despite the fact that he must be nervous beyond belief. She also thought that his neutral face had gotten much better, departing from the brooding look that it occasionally took on before he had met Carlisle. His happiness helped him gain better control over looking detached. Funny how that works. She turned away, deciding that it was time to go inside.

There will be plenty of formalities to attend to during this week I’m sure. Out of the corner of her eye, Talia caught sight of something that made her stop just before walking up the front steps, through the gate, and into her house. She froze in her step, and felt her blood run cold.

A cascade of silver needles on a red field, she thought. She took a breath to steady herself, and walked on hoping that no one had seen her hesitation. Everyone seemed to be focused on Alex, her mother, and her uncle Damien, but Talia still didn’t like the idea of anyone seeing her falter at all. So he’s here already. She breathed again, steeling herself for the upcoming week. The needle banner struck fear into the hearts of many, but it evoked a particular breed of hatred within Talia that she felt none could ever understand. I know that banner, and I don’t want to see it again for the duration of the time that he is here.

Talia walked on, thinking that she would make sure to head either straight to her room or towards the baths as fast as she could. She wanted to stop by Luca’s quarters to see him, but figured he would probably be busy anyway. Eamon or Mikhail would also be a nice visit to make, but Talia felt cold paralysis starting to sweep over her body as terror and hatred festered in her mind. She waved a servant off, who had just barely begun to talk to her before he was dismissed. She kept her head up straight and her face completely still, but her heart beat faster than normal and she tingled with anxiety. She walked forward, on and on. Her head was up, and her eyes were fixed. The less time I spend in the halls, the better. I don’t want to run into Uncle Yago.

***

Alexandre was glad to be home, even if he had to spend his first several hours greeting other generals and welcoming them to his estate for the duration of the meeting. Most generals he had met before or at least been introduced to while he was still a trainee in an academy, but he had never been held with regard as an equal to them before. Of course, on his way back from Ironia after conquering the long sought after Monciet region, he had been greeted with massive respect and the laud of several generals that were now in his home. The feeling he got from most that he greeted now wasn’t necessarily the same as then, but at least none had greeted him with outright hostility.

Alex rubbed his temples as he approached the dining hall, which was set for a massive feast at which all thirteen generals would be in attendance. He entered the room for the festivities, which were slowly beginning. A few entertainers were in the opening between the three massive tables, which were arranged in a squared “U” shape as always. He sat in his father’s seat at the center, with his mother to the right and Prince Adrian Fray to the left. There were about 60 people dining with the generals as guests of honors, none so important as the Prince of the Illjard. Most people knew why he was there, Alex included, but he hadn’t the opportunity to talk much with him. Alex hoped to secure a strong alliance in Adrian, and saw quickly that Luca had already helped to foster that along. This made Alex even more grateful to Luca’s work in his absence, and Alex was glad that he could start getting involved with this relationship building during dinner. After a quick toast of welcome and an official commencement of the night’s entertainment, Alexandre sat in his father’s chair and looked around the room.

I wonder how this will go. I suppose we’ll know tomorrow. As far as Alex knew, he should have the numbers. As good as that was, there was still the very real possibility of impasse being declared on the subject of his marriage to Carlisle Cathcart. He thought back to when he was first being instructed on how the government works in Nabius, a lesson that was imparted to he and Talia by their father.

First, an issue is presented to every general, and they may vote yay or nay. Majority vote is declared applicable to all of Nabius, unless a general contests to have their region be exempt. After that, the other generals may vote on the contention, yay or nay again. If all generals agree that an exemption is in order for a particular region, then the subject matter of the pending law is applied only to the regions that voted yay. Alex scratched his head while he ate, lost in thought.

When father explained it to us, he used the example of fishing taxes. If the majority agrees that a new fishing tax was to be put in place, then it would apply to all regions. However, landlocked territories that don’t fish would have their generals contest the tax. No general would unreasonably try to impose a tax that was nonsensical on another, and thus exemptions would be given to landlocked regions and the other territories would have a fishing tax. However, if other generals refused a majority vote and there was disagreement over the majority… Alex forked around on his plate, trying not to think of the possibility of civil war. It had happened several times in the history of Nabius, but he wouldn’t be proud to start one. He also didn’t know if he would win.

Alex looked around, and noticed Adrian Fray in deep conversation with his uncle Damien. He hoped that Damien’s idiocy wasn’t making too bad of an impression on Adrian, but was sure that the prince could handle anything with tact. Alex rolled his eyes at Damien trying to sell Jezebel as a fitting bride of upstanding Nabian background, imagining the terrors that his cousin would inflict on the poor white people of the Illjard. That one’s never going to happen uncle. He chewed his food, looking around the room lazily before he noticed a drunk Jamison Hadeaux addressing him across the corner of two of the tables.

“… and I can’t believe how foolish this all is,” he went on, slurring his words slightly. Alex raised an eyebrow, allowing him to continue. “Did you even think this through at all?” Alex gripped his silverware tightly, glaring openly.

“I think everything through, castellan. Perhaps you’d like to retire for the night. Bed would do you good.” Sir Hadeaux snorted, and slammed his fist on the table.

“Don’t tell me what to do boy, I practically raised you!” Some of the people around them began to notice the conversation, General Ysabel Clarion included. She flicked her eyes between her son and the grandmaster at arms, and then around the crowd to see who was watching. The din and the drink meant that most people weren’t paying attention to the conversation, but the area around them was slowly quieting.

“My father and mother raised me. Don’t insult us.” Jamison looked angered at that, and a red glow was beginning to build up in his cheeks. He stroked his beard, seemingly to openly ponder pressing his luck.

“The only one who has insulted the Di Coteau name is you, by taking it up the ass.”

The crowd went silent almost immediately, indicating to Alex that most people had indeed been listening stealthily, in typical Nabian fashion. His chair made a loud scraping sound across the floor as he stood up, and Alex could feel all eyes glued to him. Even the music had stopped, and Alex felt mildly annoyed with the bards for pausing. He pondered his options, never letting his face leave its stony setting.

“Because of your loyal services to this household for several years, I am rewarding you with your life. You have twenty minutes to be gone from here, and if I see you again I will have you shamed and hung. You are hereby banished from this territory permanently.” Alex spoke slowly and deliberately, and sat down after he had finished. He never broke eye contact with Hadeaux, and sipped from his goblet calmly while he waited for a response.

Hadeaux’s red face grew redder, as if in disbelief. After a few moments, his white whiskers began to bristle, and anger rode plainly across his face. He began to sputter, and spittle flew from his mouth to the table. He opened his mouth to speak, and Alexandre picked up his dinner knife. The threat was plain, and Hadeaux quieted. He threw his goblet across the room, wine sloshing out in a great white streak and the metallic clang of the cup ringing out across the cold stone floor. Hadeaux rose up, bashed his way out of the room, and slammed the door on his way out. The silence hung for a while, no one knowing quite what to make of the situation. Alex heard Almanita Nandra whisper to the bards for the music to resume, and soon the room was full of conversation again. For that, he was grateful.

“You should have killed him on the spot, my son,” said Ysabel casually. Alex made a grunting noise, and went back to rubbing his temples.

I hope that’s not an indicator for how tomorrow will go.

***

Luca exited Eamon’s room quietly, looking out the window at the moon to realize just how late it was. He had just finished taking Eamon a plate of food from the feast that he had missed, and explaining the dinnertime drama. Eamon had been invited to the feast as one of Alexandre’s guests of honor, but had respectfully declined for reasons of his shame and injury. Alex had understood after hearing about the blinding, but Luca personally felt like Eamon was being a bit dramatic.

I mean he was literally offered a spot in the commencement feast for probably the most important meeting of the thirteen in the history of Nabius, and declined to sit in his room and pity himself… Luca shook his head trying to be judgmental, but couldn’t bring himself to it. In reality, all he felt was sadness.

I talked his ear off all night about finally meeting Laura and Almanita Nandra, and seeing all of the Di Coteaus and Alexandre’s Uncle Clarion, but he just… didn’t even care. Lately all of my efforts are being thrown back in my face. It’s like he’s not even the same person any more. Luca frowned, walking on in the darkness back to his own room, which was just down the hall. I miss the old Eamon. Luca reached for his door handle, but jumped when he realized that there was someone standing right outside it in their nighttime wear.

“Shit!” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down. The person turned from knocking, realizing that Luca was outside next to him rather than in his room.

“Oh, Luca!” said Adrian in a whisper. “Sorry.” Luca shook himself from his nerves, gearing his mind away from the idea that yet another person was making an attempt on his life.

“Adrian? I mean, Prince Adrian?”

“Yeah,” replied the Illjardi, his white hair and face caught in a brilliant glow of moonlight from a nearby window to the outside. “Sorry for scaring you. And Adrian is fine, you know that.”

“Sorry.”

“Uh look, can I come in for a second? I need to talk to you about something.” Luca looked around in the darkness, slightly puzzled.

“Now?”

“Yes. Er, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. It’s just I feel like I need to do this now while I have the courage.” Adrian played with his fingers, clearly nervous and on edge about something. Luca was concerned at this behavior, and figured that whatever it was it must be important.

Besides, Adrian is my friend.

“Of course, of course,” Luca said. “Come in, where we don’t have to whisper.”

“Thanks.” The two stepped through the doors of Luca’s bedroom, and Luca lit the main oil lamp to his room. He bid Adrian sit on the bed, and crossed over to his wardrobe.

“I hope you don’t mind that I change while you talk? I’m still in my clothes from the feast.” Luca didn’t want Adrian to be the only one in his night wear, and was tired of wearing the ceremonial gear that Mikhail and his father had made for this occasion.

“Yeah, of course. Please.” Luca went behind a changing screen to remove his heavy clothing, and change into a set of silk-cotton blend trousers and a shirt.

“What is it? Is everything alright?” asked Luca.

“Yes, yes… everything is fine…” began Adrian, gulping nervously. “Look, Luca, I’m really not sure how much you know about Illjardi law and our agreement with the mainland, but there’s a very specific reason I’m here.”

“Yes? Trade and all?”

“Well yes,” said Adrian, “that’s a big part of it. But there’s a tradition in the Illjard about royal marriage.”

“Go on…” said Luca, tossing his leather jerkin and undershirt over the changing screen, emerging into Adrian’s view shirtless. He had already changed his pants, and was now making towards the bed to be closer.

“Each successive king or queen in the bloodline must select a partner from Ironia, Nabius, or Tomacia on a rotating basis,” explained Adrian. "The Marland is also in the mix occasionally, but the law is a bit more flexible around them. Currently, I have to select a partner from Nabius in order to retain my status as king.” Luca paused, nodding slowly.

“I see. Would you like me to help you look into suitable candidates around Nabius? I’ve made several connections as my time as Alexandre’s steward, and there are plenty of people to ask around about here, now.” Luca looked expectantly, raising an eyebrow and offering a smile. Pink began to show on Adrian’s pale face, and he looked a bit flustered. “Or, not…” said Luca, drawing back and feeling a bit confused at this reaction. Is he embarrassed to talk about this? Or maybe he knows who he wants to marry, but needs help with asking… Adrian took a breath in, and regained his composure. Luca sat in the darkness, awaiting his friend’s reply.

“No, but thank you. You see Luca, I was actually hoping that it would be you.” Adrian looked down at first, then back up into Luca’s eyes with a facial expression that Luca now began to realize was not friendliness, but that of affection.

Oh gods. Luca began to feel nervous, words escaping his thoughts. Suddenly, he became very conscious of his body, particularly his naked torso and the many scars that it boasted. He backed away from Adrian for a second, and slid his shirt on. Slowly, Luca realized that he had been silent for a painfully long time, and felt obligated to answer. He wished that he had his cane to lean on, as the enormity of the proposal had begun to make him sway.

“Adrian…” he began, not knowing what to say. Adrian’s face showed everything, and Luca knew that the Prince’s heart was on his sleeve.

He wants me to be a king?

“Um. Look, Adrian,” Luca began again. “There’s a lot that you still don’t know about me, and I’m not sure I’d fit the bill. I’m not even Nabian, I was taken as a slave from Ironia.” Adrian’s eyebrows shot up at that, clearly surprised. This expression didn’t last long though, and Adrian made a reassuring waving gesture with his hands.

“No no, it really doesn’t matter. You’re hold a prominent Nabian position. Or held. Either way, you qualify. And I think you’d make an excellent leader… actually I know you would.” Adrian wrung his hands again, and Luca sat up a little straighter, still reeling.

“I… wow. Thank you, Adrian.” Adrian smiled, and awaited an answer. “I… I need some time to think it over.” Adrian nodded. “Don’t get me wrong,” Luca said in a hurry when Adrian began to look a bit deflated, “I think you’re an excellent guy. We’ve always gotten along, and I think we work really well together… but I need a little time to decide if I want to stay in a position of power. It’s really a lot for me. And I think you deserve to know my full story too, before you seriously consider asking.” Luca’s head was spinning, and he felt confused and concerned by the offer. Adrian nodded again.

“Of course, Luca. You can take all the time you want. And to me… it really shows me your character anyway. Any normal official would have just said yes. But the fact that you’re even considering this from the perspective of what would be best… I really think you’re the right choice.” Luca gulped, and ran his hand through his hair.

“Thank you… I guess. Listen, Adrian, I think what would be best for us right now would be to get some rest. I’m exhausted, and I know you are too, and I just… think I should process this first. Is that okay?” Adrian smiled, and gave Luca an enveloping hug.

He feels cold, Luca thought, marveling at the strangeness of Illjardi bodies.

“Of course that’s okay. I’ll see you in the morning – it’ll be a busy day.” Adrian got up, and walked towards the door. “Goodnight Luca.”

“Goodnight Adrian.”