Re-Organizing - 3. Chapter 3

Within minutes of Scott’s summons, our suite was once again filled with our entire party, apart from five Marshals who were off duty. They were at the beach and could not return in time. Captain Vega asked if she should recall them, but Scott said those who were off duty could return to whatever they were doing and apologized for not being clear with his summons. Vega insisted they stay until she heard of Scott’s plans, as she might have need of them.

Being vague, Scott said we were not leaving the hotel but were having dinner with Count Nardone and members of his Court. He told Captain Vega to get with Count Nardone’s Chief Marshal and decide how they wanted to handle security. He then sent Chris, Brian, Trevor, and the twins to get dressed, telling Josh that Craig could stay here with Chipper, Charlie, and Jenny.

“Now I have the bad news. The table we have seats eighteen. With the Count’s party, we have one seat empty. Tony, Jonesy, or Johnny?” Scott asked, looking at me.

Before I could even consider the question, Jonesy said, “My Lord, as the ranking member of your detail, Sergeant Riva should accompany you.”

“And I have a lot to learn about table manners, My Lord,” Johnny said. “I am afraid I would embarrass you.”

I nodded and said, “Then you two will remain and help Jenny protect our children.” I turned to Jenny. “You can take the boys to the pool again if you like, or anywhere within the hotel complex. If you don’t mind, call and have dinner arranged for the six of you here in the suite.”

Scott said, “Now that everyone has the plan, let’s move. We meet the Count in an hour.”

Scott, Billy, and I headed for the shower, and when we came out, we found Johnny and Jonesy ready to help us dress. I asked where Riva was, then remembered that he would be getting ready. Of course, everyone asked if my memory was failing, and we enjoyed some banter while we got ready. When we got to the living area, we found Jenny and two hotel employees setting food on the dining table and were happy to see that Chipper and Craig were helping.

When we stepped off the elevator, we found Nico and his group just stepping off the other one. We all laughed at the coincidence, and then I introduced our party. The Count did the same, and then Scott led us to the restaurant's entrance. After a brief conversation with the maître d, we were shown to a large private dining room. I waited, planning on following Nico’s lead, but he seemed to be waiting for me to do the same.

Noticing that the long sides were set with an odd number of chairs, I took a page from Andrew’s book and said, “As we extended the invitation, I will assume the role of host, Your Excellency. If you will sit here,” I pointed to the center chair on the near side of the table, “I will sit opposite you, with my mate on my left and my Lord Steward on my right. I leave it to you, Excellency, to determine the seating arrangements for your Council, but might I suggest we mix and allow those of similar offices to sit with each other? My friends can learn much from your experienced advisors.”

Both Councils turned to stare at him when Nico said, “Your suggestions sound fine, Don Carlo, though I beg you, don’t revert to Court language unless you must.”

As everyone was sorting out their seating, I said, “Forgive me, Don Nico. I didn’t know how formal you might prefer things with your Council here. If it was just the four of us,” I indicated Scott, Billy, Nico, and me, “I would have known to keep things informal.”

Everyone at the table was staring at us, and only two had the rank to dare question us in front of another noble. Being the ranking one, Nico’s steward, although he used the title Primo Consigliere, looked at me and asked, “Forgive me, Signore Fowler, how did you know what Padrone’s mamma calls him?”

“And while you’re at it,” Billy added, “who is Carlo?”

Nico and I exchanged looks and decided that, as the questions were directed at me, I should answer. “If I may answer my Lord Steward first, Primo Fiore?” He nodded, so I said, “When we met, I introduced myself using my full name, Charles Gregory Fowler. Don Nico chose to add his Italian flair to my name, and, in his beautiful Sicilian accent, it sounded so good I chose to accept it. As to my calling him Don Nico, he told me to call him Nico. I added Don out of respect. Was I wrong to do so?” I asked, looking around.

“Don is indeed a term of respect, Signore. And you may call me Primo, as Padrone does, Don Fowler,” Primo Fiore said. “And if I may be presumptuous, your Council may use that or simply call me Enzo.”

With the ice broken, both Councils agreed that in our informal setting, given names were appropriate. Thankfully, Billy had the sense to ask, “Se mi perdonerete, Eccellenza, come ci rivolgeremo a voi? Non sono sicuro che ci sentiremmo a nostro agio nell'usare un indirizzo così intimo come quello che concedete al nostro barone.” (If you will forgive me, Excellency, how shall we address you? I am not sure we would feel comfortable using such an intimate address as the one you allow our baron.)

“My Council calls me Padrone, William. If that is still too informal, Don Nardone is acceptable in all settings. And I must say, your Italian is as good as Don Davide’s,” Nico said. “But, from their faces, I don’t believe your friends speak the tongue, so we shall stick to English.”

“Forgive me, Padrone, you are, of course, correct,” Billy replied. Then smiled and added, “And my friends call me Billy.”

The staff came in, and I was relieved to see they were all vampires. The waiter bowed and said, “Good evening, Excellency, Your Lordships, we are honored to have you here. Lord Warnick has dictated the menu, and His Excellency has honored us by opening his blood rack to allow you to experience our cuisine with a fine Sicilian Faraona.”

He went on to list the menu, adding his suggestions on a few wines that might complement the meal. When he finished his speech, he nodded to the servers, and appetizers quickly appeared. After everyone took a share of each, Nico asked, “Don Carlo, forgive me, but how is it that your first son is four months old while your other son is approximately two years old?”

I told them about my dinner with the late Baron and how Craig had approached us. I explained how we subsequently discovered Chipper, then I told how Trevor bravely stood up to me in defense of the children. I left out the crimes and trial but told how I had given guardianship of Craig to Josh, and Chipper to Scott, Billy, and me, pending approval by Prince George.

“You will forgive me, Don Carlo, but you said late Baron? I have not heard of the death of Gareth Evans,” Nico asked.

I looked around the table, and he understood. He looked at each of his Council members and said, “I have given Don Carlo my vow that anything he says to me will not leave my lips; may Dio strike me dead. If you cannot honor my vow by giving him this same assurance, you may excuse yourself from our table.”

Primo said, “Don Fowler, I will hold your words in confidence as if Don Nardone said them himself. May God strike me dead if I fail.”

The rest of his Council quickly said the same. Sensing their sincerity, I told them what Samuel had told us and of the reaction we all had to his actions. I explained that I hoped to confront the Baron and convince him to stop, but I admitted that I knew in my heart that would never happen. When I told them what we discovered when we entered the Baron’s bedroom, they all reacted as we had, totally revolted at such perversion. Billy jumped in and told them of our fight from the viewpoint of a bystander, ending with our realizing that Jake had been severely wounded.

“I understood that my friend would live for a while, so I chose to make sure we had control of the house before beginning his change,” I said. “After getting the Marshals' allegiance, I returned to the bedroom and drained the life from one of my best friends.”

Nico and his Council were staring at me, their mouths agape. Their gaze wandered to Jake at times until Nico finally asked, “You changed an infant, and you changed your friend; is this right?”

I nodded and added, “I also changed Joshua and Chris, Don Nico. And yes, I know that success rate is unusual.”

“Dio meu,” Primo exclaimed. “It is not unusual, Don Fowler; it is unheard of.”

Nico nodded; his face grim. His voice took on a commanding tone as he said, “I will remind my Confidanti of their vows. If word of this miracle leaves your lips, Dio will not have to strike you dead, as I will do it with my own hands.”

Almost in one voice, they replied, “Si, Mio Conte.”

Our servers came in with the entrées, followed by a man in his fifties who said, “Count Nardone, Lee told me you were here, so I left Spago and came to deliver your entrée personally. You know better than to come to one of my restaurants without letting me know.”

Nico laughed and said, “Let me guess, Morrison and his seguaci are at Spago?”

“No, Exzellenz, Count Morrison is angry at me. He has banned all his vassals from my restaurants, but we are overflowing with your Barons and Viscounts.”

Scott, Billy, and I exchanged glances, and Nico noticed. He smiled and said, “I am being rude. Forgive me. Baron Fowler, Baron Warnick, Primo White, may I present Wolfgang Puck, the second finest chef in the world.”

“I am honored to meet you, My Lords,” Puck said, bowing to us. He then turned to Nico, grinned, and said, “I am only second because you changed Scappi, Don Nardone. Once I have five hundred years to perfect my cooking, I will be as good as he is.”

“I am sure you will, Chef,” I said. “And it is we who are honored to meet you, Sir. You will be happy to know that your kitchen has represented you quite well this evening, as has the staff that has served us.”

“I appreciate your kind words, Baron. I will leave you now, or your food will be cold. Thank you all for honoring us with your visit.” He bowed to us and quickly left the room.

We continued to eat, and between bites, Nico asked, “Would you tell me what other wonders you have performed, Don Carlo?”

“I don’t follow you, Don Nico,” I said. “What do you mean by wonders?”

Nico had taken a bite after his question, so his Aigtante (Adjutant) explained. “It is well known that changelings commonly have abilities, Don Fowler. I know one who can cause water to instantly freeze.”

I told them how I could communicate mind-to-mind with my entire clan, going as far as telling how, as soon as I had killed Baron Evans, I was able to summon Andrew. Rather than tell the whole truth, I told them how I had made an ink pen roll over after several attempts. When they asked about the others, I decided not to reveal everything, so I answered for them, saying we had not entirely explored things and did not understand everything involved.

“Forgive me, Don Carlo, but would you attempt to talk with me in this manner?” Marco asked.

“I will give it a try, Marco, but as you’re not in my clan, I don’t know that it will work,” I replied.

Nico looked from me to his son, then turned to me and asked, “Humor him, Don Carlo. If you don’t mind?”

I nodded, then focused on Marco. Within seconds, I found the connection, so I asked, ‘What would you like to do when you are an adult?’

He stared at me, stunned, then sent, ‘Serve you in whatever manner you ask.’

Nico watched his son, and when he saw the shock on the boy’s face, he asked, “Would you try this with me, Don Carlo?”

I found his connection quickly and sent, ‘I would be honored, Don Nico.’

‘You must tell no one else of this, Supremo. This could cost you your life,’ he replied.

I gave a slight nod and sent, ‘I will tell my Council of your words, Don Nico. My life is theirs.’

‘My life is yours, Supremo. We will talk again.’

I nodded, realizing that everyone was watching; I said, “It is unfortunate it did not work between us, Don Nico. I enjoy your company. As to your son, it may be due to his age.”

I quickly sent Marco, ‘Your father will explain. Do not be insulted, but this must remain secret.’

He simply replied, ‘Si, Don Carlo.’

“I see what you mean about this blood, Don Nico,” I said, trying to move the conversation away from me. “It is so light I can taste all the various flavors in the food. I hadn’t realized how elk and whitetail covered up the taste.”

“I must agree, Don Nico,” Scott said. “We will have to get your source so we can have it at our table.”

Nico laughed. “You stole my penthouse, and now you want to steal my blood? Should I hide my wife?”

“That would depend on how attractive she is, Don Nico,” I said with a smirk.

Billy seemed to understand that I wanted to keep the focus off me, so he asked, “Don Nardone, I have heard your home in the Napa Valley is beautiful.”

“It is quite peaceful, Primo Billy,” Primo Fiore said. “The next time we are there, I will send you some of our wines.”

“It is peaceful,” Nico agreed. “Except when I have every baron in California dropping by once a week to kiss my ass. This is why we moved to Seattle. ”

That gave me an opening, so I said, “I have yet to meet Count Morrison, Don Nico. From the very little I’ve heard; I would do well to avoid him. What advice would you give me?”

“He has his favorite barons but prefers the company of his viscounts.”

Scott nervously asked, “Please tell us that Baron Evans was not on that list?”

Nico laughed. “Fortunately for you, Don Carlo, Count Morrison despised Gareth Evans. Unlike the Count, the late Baron was quite frugal. It is rumored that he was the wealthiest vampire in England when he emigrated, and considering the humans he associated with, I would say he continued to accumulate wealth in Pittsburgh.” He gave me an intense look and, using my name for the first time, said, “You are a wealthy young man, Gregory Fowler.”

“Why would you say that?” Billy asked, trying to sound innocent. “Wouldn’t his personal wealth go to his family?”

Nico Nardone gave me an appraising look, then said, “Don Carlo, if you didn’t do several specific things in your first twelve hours as a baron, I will resign as Count. You already confirmed that you first secured the home despite an injured friend. After that, the order is less important, but within hours, you were in his office evaluating your position. You had your Capo bring your family to your side, and you asked your Council for their guidance.”

I gave him a slow nod, indicating that he was correct. I had done all of these things.

“Count Morrison once mentioned having witnessed the will that Baron Evans wrote, leaving everything to his successor. Unfortunately, it has become common knowledge, Don Carlo. And if you have not found this will, you are not the leader I know you to be.”

I smiled. “You think more of me than I feel I deserve, Don Nico, but I will not lie. We did find the will you speak of. I’m actually relieved to learn that it’s commonly known. I was concerned that it would spark a fight.”

“There is no one with the right to contest it, Don Carlo. His father is the only family still alive, and he very publicly disowned his son in the early 18^th century when the young Baron refused to pay off his father’s gambling debts. He would never challenge the will as the fight would remind people of his shame,” Nico explained.

I shared what the will said without mentioning the value Brian had suggested. I then steered the conversation to the reason we were here: the prince's Court. Nico confirmed everything Jonesy had told us, then gave me more insight into the use of ‘we,’ advice on how to behave, whom to avoid, and, more importantly, whom to make sure to greet. He agreed with my plan on how to have the chamberlain announce me and suggested what I should say to Prince George. He also advised me how to handle Viscount Chester and Count Morrison, warning me that Viscount Chester was a stickler for protocol.

While Scott, Billy, and I talked with Nico about Court, my counselors talked with their counterparts, learning how to behave at Court, whom to avoid, and getting more insight into their new duties. When Brian mentioned there was a large surplus, he was encouraged to protect it. He explained his plans and views and was happy to learn that the count’s treasurer agreed with his figures.

Trevor asked Nico to tell us of his past, so we learned that he was a Viscount in Sicily in the 16th and 17th centuries. At the request of Prince George, he had emigrated to this country in the middle of the 18th century. As the country expanded, George sent him to California to oversee the increasing vampire community there. In 1852, the Count summoned Nico and demanded that he surrender his personal wealth, and his wife. Not willing to do this, Nico was sentenced to death but fought off the Marshal holding him and killed the Count, assuming his office. When Josh asked how others reacted to this, Nico explained that everyone was relieved, knowing that if the Count could take the wealth or wife from a viscount, he could take theirs.

“So, you see, Don Carlo, we have something else that makes us kindred souls,” Nico said, closing the topic.

The mention of his wife caused Nico to explain that she was in Sicily, helping their son and daughter-in-law with their new baby. This led to a general discussion of everyone’s families, and the conversation confirmed what James and Donna had told me about vampires’ views on monogamy and sexuality, with all of the older vampires having a mixture of male and female partners and lovers. When Primo Fiore asked, Scott explained that he and I were fated mates but considered Billy as an equal partner in our personal lives. I, for one, was stunned when he looked at Nico and said that he was in a similar position, but it was not commonly known.

After dessert, we were enjoying the wine when Josh asked Marco what he planned to do while his father was at Court; Marco sighed and said, “I suppose I’ll study or spend time at the pool.”

“If Greg doesn’t mind, I think our boys would enjoy it if you joined them at the beach,” Josh replied.

When Nico nodded, I said, “I think Chipper would like that, Marco. I’ll leave it to you to get with Jenny and work it out.”

Standing, Nico said, “Well, Don Carlo, you have made this evening much more enjoyable than the one I had planned. I am quite grateful, but as I am required to be at Court at 8 AM, you will excuse me if I take my Confidanti and leave you.”

I stood and replied, “We were honored to host you, Don Nico, and are quite grateful for your counsel. Might I ask when I should arrive? I was not informed.”

He thought for a moment, then said, “You were summoned before the Court, it means the Prince has an issue he wants to address. As such, you would arrive at noon. If you were going as a seated Baron, you should arrive at 9 AM. It is somewhat of a conflict.”

Primo Fiore said, “If I may point out a technicality, Don Fowler?” I nodded, so he said, “If you were already seated when he summoned you, you would be expected to arrive with the barons between 9 and 11 AM, then appear before him when summoned, after noon. As you said, you were not given a time, so you might arrive early for your summons while being on time as a Baron. If this displeases His Highness, you can always claim ignorance and beg for forgiveness.”

“If you choose to accept Primo’s thinking, Don Carlo,” Nico added, “you still must decide if you arrive early and gain greater scrutiny from the assembled counts and viscounts or arrive late and hope the mass of barons helps distract from your arrival.”

I was still considering Nico’s words when we gathered in the living room of our penthouse. Charlie was in his daddy’s lap, feeding while Chipper was in Billy’s, doing the same. Craig held a tablet Josh had picked up for him, working on his math as he fed. Our valets were going over everyone’s official garb, making sure everything was perfect. Jake was nervous, as his was at the tailor’s shop. As we expected, his change had caused him to grow and his new garb no longer fit. I teased him and asked if he wanted his daddy to feed him. His reply was far from childlike, but he did take me up on my offer.

Once Chipper, Craig, and Charlie were in bed, I took care of a few details for tomorrow; then we did something we really needed. My Council became my friends, and we spent several hours playing video games and watching replays of the baseball playoffs. Jenny suggested we order pizza, but amazingly, eight teen boys weren’t hungry. By the time the hotel staff arrived at five to set up our breakfast buffet, that had changed. We all filled a plate and sat at the table, on the sofas, or at the table on the balcony, and ate. Jenny held Charlie’s hand as he waddled unsteadily out to join Scott, Billy, and me on the balcony. I held him as she brought his highchair, and then we all took turns sharing our breakfast with him. We then took turns feeding him, as well as filling several bottles with our blood, as we would be away until late that evening.

The Council headed to their rooms to shower and dress, followed by several of the Marshals who volunteered to assist, wanting their Baron and his Council to look their best. Scott, Billy, and I showered, then struggled to dress, with Tony, Jonesy, and Johnny trying to help. We ended up dressing ourselves and then allowing them to help with the black bow ties. Rather than wrinkle them, we carried our capes, hoping we would be able to quickly put them on when we arrived. We checked, then double-checked, that we had everything ready, and then it was down the elevators and into the waiting Escalades for the trip to Prince George’s house and my first Prince’s Court.

As we pulled up, another motorcade was pulling out from under the portico, so our drivers pulled up. I was relieved to see that this other Baron was doing exactly what we had planned; his attendants were clipping capes onto him and his Council. His wife had an ankle-length taffeta dress with red roses embroidered in several places, and around her shoulders was an ebony mink stole. As Jonesy had said, a Marshal greeted us and held out a box.

“If your Marshals would disarm, My Lord, they may join you inside,” he said.

Riva, Jonesy, and Johnny placed their firearms in the box, and Johnny held his arms out, offering to be searched. The Marshal smiled and said, “His Lordship’s word that you are unarmed will suffice, Cadet.”

Johnny nodded and said, “Thank you, Sir,” as I assured the Marshal that our party was indeed unarmed. He then led us up to the door, where a chamberlain asked how we were to be announced. He balked, but I expected this, and Billy explained exactly as we had planned. He accepted the explanation and announced us, then waved his hand, indicating we should go in.

We walked into the entrance hall and a footman led us down the hall to our left to the entrance of what, in the actual White House, was known as The East Room. Here, it was the Prince’s Reception Hall, where the Lord Chamberlain asked Billy how we were to be announced. After the same conversation as at the door, he finally accepted it, tapped his staff on the floor and announced.

“Baron Charles Gregory Fowler and Baron Consort David Scott Warnick.”

As I hoped, everyone accepted this. George had even reprimanded me for calling myself an unseated Baron, telling me there was no difference, so I used this technicality to my advantage. As I had not officially told the Viscount that I had assumed the seat, it could be argued that I was not yet the Baron of Pittsburgh. Of course, if they really wanted to make an issue of this, they could, but I could plead inexperience with proper Court decorum. As long as it didn’t upset Prince George, I was fine.

I noticed Nico standing with an old man I assumed was Count Morrison and another Latino man who looked to be about thirty. This would be Count Menendez of Mexico City. When he caught my eye, Nico gave a slight nod, approving of my first political move in this room full, or soon to be full, of very powerful vampires.

Scott and I entered the room and faced the throne. George sat, quite relaxed yet still regal in his black Dracul garb trimmed in gold and piped in red. In his hand, he held a wine glass that contained, if my nose was accurate, partridge blood. He stared at us as we bowed, with our Council mimicking our bows from behind us. Then Scott and I approached the throne, stopped at the appropriate spot, and bowed again, our Council waiting their turn. Then, we waited.

I was glad there was only one other Baron here; I couldn’t imagine having the Prince keep me standing here with fifty other Barons drooling to hear the gossip. It felt like he made us wait an hour, but it was only seconds. George glanced at my Council, then back at me, and said, “You are early, Baron Fowler. You are not required to attend our Court until our formal session this afternoon.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness. Having been away from Your Highness for so long, I was eager to enjoy your company,” I replied.

His eyes narrowed, and he asked, “And do you have any news for me? From Pittsburgh?”

He knew. I knew none of my people would have volunteered information, but if pressed by a representative of their Prince, they would have to answer. I remembered Jonesy’s lessons: be brief, don’t voluntarily give more than asked. “I do, Your Highness. Baron Evans died by my hand. By the traditions and laws of The Nation of Dracul, I claim his seat. I am Baron Charles Gregory Fowler, Baron of Pittsburgh.”

I heard a few gasps, I assume, from Count Morrison and Viscount Chester, as well as a few others, but the only reaction that mattered was the one from the vampire seated in front of me. He showed no reaction whatsoever; simply stared at me. This time, the wait seemed like days. Billy later told me that George kept me standing there for four and a half minutes.

Finally, he spoke. “We congratulate you on your seat, Baron Pittsburgh, and we will hear the details in private. We will also hear the details of the issues that caused us to summon you at that time. You are removed from the afternoon’s schedule.” He gave a slight nod, dismissing us, so Scott and I bowed and backed away from the throne.

Billy, Josh, Jake, Chris, Brian, and Trevor bowed, approached the throne, and stopped in the right spot. As one, they bowed and waited. The Prince considered them for a brief moment and honored them by saying, “We are happy to see you again, Lord Steward. You may present Baron Pittsburgh’s Council.”

As Billy introduced each one, the Prince gave each a stately nod. He only spoke to Chris and Jake, saying it was nice to see them again. Once they were dismissed, they bowed and backed away.

Once my Council was with me, I walked directly to Viscount Chester and pulled an envelope from my coat pocket. I bowed from the neck and said, “Excellency, under the laws of The Nation of Dracul, I hereby claim my seat as the rightful Baron of Pittsburgh. The details of my conquest are spelled out in this document,” I handed him an envelope, “and I am, of course, available to answer His Excellency’s questions at His Excellency’s convenience.” Keeping my eyes on the Viscount, I continued, “I took the liberty of copying the enclosed document if His Excellency would like to forward it to Count Morrison.”

Viscount Chester stared at me. As with the Prince, my job was to wait however long he wanted. Fortunately, he seemed to be in a good mood. “Thank you, Baron. You attest that this second copy is identical?”

“I do, Excellency.”

He held out his hand, saying, “We will deliver it to Count Morrison as our formal duties require. If we have questions, you may answer our questions when we meet this weekend.” He turned to the Count and said, “Excellency, may I present Baron Gregory Fowler, Baron of Pittsburgh.”

Count Morrison gave me a dismissive nod and, in quite a rude move, turned his head and attempted to continue his conversation with Count Menendez. Seeing this, Viscount Chester took the second envelope and gave me a nod of dismissal. As was proper, we backed away a step and then turned to survey the room. Several more Barons had entered, and my Council divided into pairs and went to socialize with the other council members while Scott and I headed for the Baron that had preceded us into the hall.

As we approached, he held out his hand and said, “Nice to meet you, Baron Fowler. I am Baron Edward Boyd, Baron of Charleston.”

I introduced Scott and said, “As you know my name, I won’t repeat it,” I said, grinning and shaking his hand. “If I may, Baron. I am new to Court; might I ask your direction on two issues?”

“Baron Warnick,” he said, smiling at Scott. He turned to me and added, “By all means, Baron, and please, all my friends call me Eddy.”

I laughed, “My friends call me Greg, and that answers my first question. My second question is, is that Charleston, West Virginia, or South Carolina?”

“West Virginia, Greg. Baron Aiken moved to Savannah, Georgia, after Hugo hit in ’89.” Eddy laughed and added, “Personally, that sounds like jumping from the frying pan into the fire, but it’s his choice.”

“I would agree. I’ll take our snow over their hurricanes anytime,” I said with a grin. “I doubt you’re aware, but until recently, I lived in your Barony.” I gave him a brief version of my changing and attempting to continue at high school. “I would like to discuss a matter involving the safety of two of my Council members who would like to stay at that school until January, when you have the time.”

He looked around, “No one is pressing for our attention; go on.”

I told him about Chris and Brian's plans to stay in school until January and my desire to pay Marshals to provide for their security. He assured me this was not a problem and told me to call his Chief Marshal for the names of some who might appreciate the employment. I asked if I could keep them when Chris and Brian moved, and he said that was entirely up to them. At this point, his Lord Steward approached and waited.

Eddy sighed, “Duty calls, Greg. I bet it’s Jackson, from Richmond, wanting to argue about our border again.”

We said our goodbyes, and Scott and I started for a group of Barons, planning on introducing ourselves, when Primo Fiore approached us. After bowing, he said, “My Lord, His Excellency, Count Nardone would like a word.”