I'm posting with The Serialists which appears on Wednesdays.
To recap this dark fantasy story so far:
As a small boy of seven, Scorpius was fetched from the nursery where he'd been raised to live among the nobility - fetched not by his family, but by a falconer to serve as his apprentice.
Scorpius soon learned that a close encounter with a dragon was preferable to the cruelties of the nobles he'd once hoped were family. His master did whatever he could to shield Scorpius from the world outside their cottage, but the falconer was merely a servant who must obey his own masters.
An attempt on the life of a young noble while on a hunt sent the falconer and his apprentice on abruptly different paths, bringing Scorpius into the service of Lord Thibault's noble house.
We now continue with Scorpius at age nineteen.
You can follow the progress of this story arc by clicking on the Works in Progress link just under the blog header.
“Yashtii’s
people,” the duke repeated. “You think to align the House of Pruzhnino with a
girl whose ‘people’ hide in mountain passes?”
Lord Thibault
crossed his arms before him. “And which bride did you have picked out for me, Father?”
“That little
golden-haired morsel sent by Razlavha,” the duke said. “You were not averse to
her charms, by all accounts. And she brings a much-needed ally from the north.”
Scorpius’
master gazed down at the carpet for a long moment. Holding his position, still
several paces away from their confiscated swords, Scorpius locked gazes with
the chancellor. With his own secret to hide, the duke’s advisor--whose Sibian
hair markings remained concealed beneath his hat—kept his eye on Scorpius’
attempts to reclaim his weapon while choosing not to alert the duke.
“A northern
ally will not make one speck of difference to The Troubles.” Lord Thibault
looked up at his father, his eyes once again lit with an internal fire. “But
Yashtii’s people can call forth the most destructive force in the eight
kingdoms combined. If we could hold that terror over the heads of the other
houses, The Troubles would cease.”
“If all it
took to end The Troubles was the dragon, the Sibiu would have called one forth,
generations past,” the chancellor said.
“How do we
know they didn’t, Your Grace?” Scorpius said. “Perhaps no one ever bothered to
connect the sightings with alliances and clashes between the houses.”
All heads
turned to regard him. Scorpius swallowed.
“Every
sighting is recorded,” the chancellor said.
“By
ourselves and the Sibiu, both,” Lord Thibault said with excitement coloring his
cheeks. “Imagine what we could accomplish if it could be shown that we have the
power to aim the stuff of nightmares into the hearts of our enemies’
strongholds?”
“You sound
bewitched, boy,” the duke said.
Instead of
taking offence, as Scorpius had been certain his master would do, Lord Thibault
grinned widely. “I am, Father. As will you be.”
“You are my
second son, Thibault, and with the possibility that my heir, the markiisi might
one day come to harm, you must marry as if it were you and not your brother who
is marked to ascend to the dukedom.”
“Of course,
Father.”
“An alliance
with a hidden people who lurk amongst us, concealing their flocks among ours,
using our resources but shouldering none of the costs—this kind of alliance
will weaken ties between the House of Pruzhnino and many other families.”
“The
Troubles have kept every tie between us and the other families so stretched that
many have snapped of their own accord. Why not try a new way? The old way has
brought nothing but distrust and destruction.”
The duke
stood gazing at his son for a long, long moment.
“You will
announce an intimate soiree, Thibault,” the duke said at last. “Invite a
handful from the fete. You will include the golden haired northerner, and you
may invite your Sibian candidate. I will take another look at this girl.”
Lord
Thibault’s father started to turn back towards his desk, when his son flung
himself to one knee and grabbed the duke’s hand in his own.
Kissing his
father’s ring, Lord Thibault’s smile filled the drawing room with his joy.
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