B2 Chapter 76

Lucan opened the door to his father’s chamber once the latter gave him leave to enter. After shutting the door behind him, he saw the large, empty bed on one side of the chamber and the small desk and chair upon which his father sat on the other. “Father.”

“You’ve come,” his father said. “Done with matters of the estate then?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good, now to other matters, I suppose.”

Lucan gave his father a quizzical tilt of the head, only remembering after a moment that he couldn’t see it, but he needn’t have worried, as his father quickly answered his unasked question.

“The girl,” his father continued. “And the matter of your betrothal. It was a worthy union when you were but a knight’s son, not even knighted yourself. Even then, it is not unheard of for knights to wed the progeny of wealthy commoners.” His father paused for a breath, giving Lucan only a moment to grapple with the man’s surprising words for the second time today. “But now, you are no longer the son of a knight, nor are you only expected to be a knight yourself. You are among the ranks of high nobility, and a union with a commoner will bring you plenty of contempt, perhaps even mistreatment by your peers. As freshly minted lords, we will struggle with the recognition of our peers as a matter of course.”

“What would you have me do then?” Lucan asked. 

“You are lord now,” his father said heatedly. “It is for you to decide. You may dismiss the betrothal, and that grubby merchant would not dare gainsay you, as long as you compensate him with a few privileges in trade.”

“But father…”

“I know of no lord wed to a commoner in this realm, Lucan. Not even in another. You must decide.”

Lucan stared at his father, the latter now looking back at him with unseeing eyes. He was getting more used to spotting the direction of a voice at least. They stared at each other, even if their eyes could not meet. Then Lucan said it.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I will not have it,” Lucan said. “Our betrothal will persist, and we will be wed.”

“Do you think that is wise?” his father asked, sounding truly curious. “After all you have done for this estate? You and I have made sacrifices for this piece of land, by our blood and our honor even. Do you truly believe this to be wise, Son?”

“I do not care what is wise,” he snapped. “Lilian stood by us when we needed the help of any man with a stone to throw. She delved into the endless green of the south with me, fighting at the edge of a Wilderman’s blade. If the reward I present to her is breaking my promise of marriage, then I would not even be worthy of your name.”

His father leaned back in his chair, growing silent. Lucan watched him with uncertainty, for he knew not how he would respond. Would he change his pronouncement? Or would he admonish him for being a fool?

Instead, a small smile came over his father’s features and he said, “Good. Good. You have learned something from me, after all.” And by the end of it, he was smiling widely for the first time since Lucan had found him in the Wildermen’s dungeon.

Lucan sighed with relief. “You had me worried, Father.”

His father guffawed. “Had you stopped to think for a moment, you would have realized how incredulous my demand was. I married a commoner myself, did I not?”

“Yes, but you were a knight. I am a lord, as you have said.”

“Well, I had to make some sense of it if I were to have you believe it, at least for a time.”

“And what did you expect from me, that I would abandon her?”

“No, but I worried that you would consider the matter,” his father said. “Such uncertainty would have been unbecoming. Thankfully, my faith in you is not misplaced, Son.”

“Thank you.”

“I suppose we may now move on to other matters.”

Lucan gave him a nod, then cleared his throat, feeling foolish again. “Go on, Father.”

The former lord stood up, going around his desk and grabbing something, then he turned around and walked towards Lucan, his sheathed sword in his arms. He carried it on top of his palms like a priceless treasure, and he walked with certainty that could only come from years of familiarity with his chamber. Once he was in front of Lucan, he pushed his arms forward with the sword. “Will you have it now?”

Lucan’s breath hitched, and his eyes inadvertently teared up. He did not know why. Why would he cry? His voice broke as he said, “Are you certain, Father?”

“I am.”

Lucan received the sword reverently, handling it as one would a glass sculpture and bringing it close to his chest. As his father walked back to his chair, Lucan unsheathed a small portion of the blade, mesmerized by its golden sheen as though it was his first time seeing it. He followed the small grooves making up the elaborate enchantment with his eyes until they disappeared under the sheath, then he resheathed the blade, sparing himself the bewitchment and eying his father who didn’t seem to be done talking.

“Word will spread slowly,” his father said. “First among our neighbors, then farther and farther. It would be wise not to hasten this spread. Eventually, it will reach the king. We can only hope that it will take long enough that His Majesty will not take offense.”

“I understand this, Father,” Lucan said. “But the king has to acknowledge my rise to your seat.”

“By noble law, he is forced to, since you are the only rightful heir to my title,” his father said. “Kings do not like to have their hands forced, however, so let us hope that when the time comes for him to acknowledge your title, he is not in a foul mood.”

Lucan only hummed in agreement. He had no wish to provoke the royal court once again. He had only done it when it was necessary, and it had not been his intention at the time. Now that he had his father back, even if he was not whole, he would rather be as unassuming of a noble as one could be in their little corner of the realm.

“There’s another matter worth considering,” his father said. “Now that we are lords ourselves, our branch of the house may have its own banner, though it still has to be born of the family’s colors.”

Lucan bobbed his head. “I have some thoughts on the matter. It will not be long before we have one.”

“Good. You have also done well for our coffers. It did not pass me by that they are fuller than they have ever been. Or at least, they will be so until your next grand undertaking.” A bit of mirth came over his father’s tone near the end.

Lucan chuckled. “Aye. We were fortunate. We gathered plenty of gold from the Wildermen’s holy monolith. I let the men keep much of what they collected, but I took most of what the temple’s men gathered. Alone, that flooded our treasury with more than five hundred gold. That along with the temple’s previous openhandedness has left us with bursting coffers.”

His father nodded along. “It ought to be enough for whatever comes our way, for a time. But I am content.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair with an easy smile. “I wish to rest now.”

Lucan understood the dismissal. “Yes, Father. Thank you.” And his father only nodded as he turned around and left the chamber.

On his way back to the study, he was met by a servant, one he recognized. The man must have been sent by Clifton. He was not surprised, however, by how soon he came. The man quietly led him out of the keep and onto the walkway of the palisade surrounding it. They circled the keep until they were overlooking an abandoned incline between the hill upon which it stood and the bailey. There, Lucan saw Sawyer sitting with Helena, hand in hand. Already, they were arranging discreet meetings together. Not that Lucan hadn’t expected it to be this way. In truth, if it hadn’t happened, it would have been cause for concern, considering why he’d brought Helena here.

But there were other concerns on his mind. There were two people here now that the princess had patronized aside from his betrothed, and Lucan knew that Her Highness was particularly close with the girls she had aided. The last thing he needed now was another attempt by the royal to seed a spy into his ranks. He sent the servant to find where Lilian was. They would need to talk, sooner rather than later.

Surprisingly, Lilian was not far from where he was, being less than halfway around the keep in an empty part of the yard. He didn’t need to walk far to find her. She was standing there, sadly watching a dying sapling leaning away from the palisade.

“Lilian?”

His betrothed turned her head slowly, meeting him with a smile. “Dear.”

“I could have a farmer help us move it somewhere where it can flourish.”

Lilian let out a tinkling titter. “Thank you, Lucan. But you need not. I just wish there was a garden here.”

Lucan shrugged. “And why may there not be one? The training yard doesn’t take all the sands around the keep. You may have a small garden.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

She tilted her head and gave him a wide smile. “Thank you.”

He smiled back, drawing closer and kissing her on the cheek. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“You sent a servant to find me. Is something the matter?” she said.

Lucan stepped back and sighed. “You seem tied to Helena with a strong friendship.”

She gave him an uncertain nod.

“Well, I’m certain that you would not be surprised by my concern about Her Highness’s plots.”

Lilian lost her smile, apparently still agonized by the matter. “Yes, I understand.”

“Helena and Sawyer are beholden to Her Highness,” he said. “The former more so than the latter.”

His betrothed nodded again.

“You must speak with her,” he said. “Make certain she does not make a mistake.”

Lilian let out a suppressed sigh, seemingly even more troubled by this than him. “I…”

“I do not ask you to work against Her Highness,” he said. “Only to make certain one of our own does not become entangled in a web that would make us all suffer.”

Quiet overtook their presence for a time, with his betrothed barely taking a breath, but then she nodded at last. “I will do it.”

“Thank you,” he was the one to say this time, stepping forward and embracing her.