ARC 7-Cursed Fates-60 (Patreon)
Content
Several hours later, we’re still in our respective positions, Alana spooning me while Kierra watches over us from a distance. I have no idea what’s going on with the house and can’t bring myself to care. Crying is exhausting. “How did you know,” I ask Alana, voice hoarse and husky. “What to do, I mean. To make me…” To make me confront my feelings.
Alana runs her fingers through my hair. “In Victory, death is normal. Expected. The veterans, they see so many die they’re numb to it. The younger knights and the trainees grow up around that and think grieving makes them look weak. They try, putting up stern fronts and pushing their feelings away. Like you.”
“I wouldn’t say it was a front…”
She huffs but doesn’t argue the point. “I idolized the knights like every other child in Victory so, of course, I was the same. It was my mother who helped,” she says with what feels like grudging respect.
“I had a pet. Or, not a pet. Every now and again, some fool tries to keep a snowcat, one of the few cuddly creatures that can tolerate northern temperatures. They always escape and become nuisances for a short time before being put down.
“Well, there was one that liked to prowl the area around my house. Smart enough not to go into people’s homes so it lived long enough for me to get used to seeing it. Had a little tuft of gray fur on its…anyway, I didn’t have many friends so I liked talking to it. It hung around if I fed it, grooming itself. Never let me get close but that didn’t stop me. Damn thing was my best friend…until a knight passing by killed it.”
“I’m sorry.”
She sighs. “I wasn’t a trainee then, but I still tried to be tough. Kept a stiff face even as my mother burned his little body. Ma—my mother intervened. While we stood by the fire, she made me talk about it. How soft its fur looked. The way it liked to lick a paw before rubbing its ears. Made me use the name I gave it. I started off strong but next thing I knew I was crying. Then I was sobbing.
“It’s easy to face death when you think of it in the abstract. As long as it’s soldiers dying, you can shrug them off with a stiff drink. But when you’re forced to put a face to your loss, to remember what is gone, it makes it real and impossible to stay detached. That’s the reason behind the stories told during Last Rites. To make it real.”
“What was its name?”
“What?”
“Your friend. The snowcat.” I snicker at the look she gives me. The message in her expression is clear. She’s annoyed that out of all her profound words, I’ve latched onto this subject. “What was his name? Her name?”
“I’m not telling.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not important.”
“I’m curious.”
Stymied and restless, I wiggle out of her arms and climb out of the bed. I’m still…upset, I suppose, but now that there’s no more tears, other problems intrude, a constant nagging that only abates when I give them the attention they demand. Alana briefly tries to keep me in bed but lets me go after a few moments of insistence, standing up after me.
Kierra’s hand brushes my back as we leave the room, her eyes still troubled. Something I’ll have to ask about later. I think she was genuinely scared earlier, which is both troubling and amazing. Troubling, because nothing scares Kierra. Amazing, because she was afraid for me. To the point of near panic. It’s nice, in a way, to know she cares so much but I don’t want her to feel bad. Not for this. We’ll have to talk, but later, when I don’t feel so…raw.
“I’m going to check on Yulia,” Alana says while squeezing my arm. She waits for me to nod before walking off, leaving me with my thoughts.
Despite circumstances bringing me to a standstill, the servants continued their work in an admirable fashion. The house looks bare, reduced to the few furnishings that were here before us. Gone are the skulls, furs, and weapons. Huh. Looking it at it like this, I suddenly realize that Kierra did most of the decorating. There was little of me, most of it being my summoning materials, and nothing of the other inhabitants.
My father wasn’t one for decorating either. In my bitter moments, I thought it was because of a lack of funds, and that was no doubt a reason, but he always did appreciate a thing’s function more than its form. Except when it came to women. He was just as much of a sucker for a pretty face as me.
I need to stop thinking about him.
Focus. I need to find Earl.
I find my steward in the study, breaking down the table where he usually sits for his lessons. He pauses when I enter, setting down his tools and straightening up. “My lady.” He brushes off his jacket before offering me a shallow bow. “How may I be of service?”
“What’s the status of the packing?”
“The house is just about finished. Gajin is taking longer than expected to finish the garden, even accounting for his reluctance. Once I finish, I will move to assist him, ensuring that it is finished by tonight. However, the mistress has yet to make progress on her personal garden.” That was because she was preoccupied with her concern for me. “It will be impossible to move everything tonight. There is also the matter of where to move everything. We can acquire enough carts and wagons easily, but they need a destination.”
I was meant to go into the city today and handle that, along with getting a room at the Golden Feathers for a night and scoping out the mood of the city. For everything we have, nothing less than renting a storehouse will suffice. I was hoping that Maxine could share her expertise. Or, if necessary, Marcella. If it were an emergency, I’m sure we could be out of the Hall come morning but there’s no need to impose on the Guiness girls.
“Just get it all ready. We’ll move when we can.” Though I should still probably leave tonight. And if I leave, Kierra, Alana, and Talia will undoubtedly want to follow. Unfortunately, everyone can’t. Fearsome as our reputation is, I don’t think it’s enough to stop reckless opportunists from snatching our natural treasures if we don’t leave behind sufficient protection. “How’s Jac?”
“She’s been resting. A supply of snacks, juice, and reading material has kept her satisfied. She is currently asleep.”
“And Junior?”
“He and Fen went to the Grand Market. They’ve yet to return.”
What could they be shopping for? Hm. Fen said her explanation could take time. Maybe days for the detail I want. Ah, I see. Junior will likely need a few necessities. He certainly isn’t welcome to partake in the riches of my house.
“Alright, good work.”
“My lady?” Earl calls out, causing me to turn before I leave the room. “Are you alright?”
“…why do you ask?”
“Please forgive me for speaking out of turn. The head maid instilled in me that a good steward is in tune with the house he manages, including not just its physical state but its atmosphere. The air is tense. Something has happened. It would be my pleasure to assist you.”
I sigh. “Thank you, Earl. I’m happy to hear that.” He’s an incredible boy. Was an incredible boy even before Geneva got her hands on him, but I wouldn’t dare put this on his still narrow shoulders. “You’re doing exactly what I need you to do. Take care of us. Take care of our family.”
“Of course, my lady.”
When I leave the room, Anna is standing close by, several flocketts cradled in her arms. She looks up at me with her big eyes, blond haystack wild and messy. “Alright, Lady Lou?”
Something in my chest squeezes painfully. Saints, sometimes I forget how young she is. How pure and impressionable. Did I look up at my father like that at one time? Does she feel the same way I did, so very alone?
No. She has her brother, her pets, and the rest of us to lesser extents. But I could do more. With all this power at my disposal, the people beside me, those who give me their loyalty and their lives, deserve nothing but the best. I should do more for all of them. I will.
“I’m alright,” I say, ruffling her hair. “You take care of the little ones.”
She ducks her head in a shallow bow before walking off. I watch her go for a while, comforting myself with the knowledge that the siblings are better off than when I found them until the back of her purple jacket disappears. Then I make my way outside.
The garden looks terrible, the perfectly sculpted natural picture reduced to a desolate vision of turned soil. Gajin is probably crying so hard he can’t see what he’s doing anymore. I feel for him, but the thought also brings a smile to my face. I can’t laugh, not yet, but it warms my heart.
I keep going until I pass the treeline that defines Kierra’s personal area, taking a seat at one of their bases and relaxing against the strong bark. Then I call out with my thoughts and wait.
It doesn’t take her long. Geneva arrives in minutes, a basket on one arm and a folded blanket under the other. I stand and let her spread it out before retaking my seat, far more comfortable. She opens the basket and pulls out a bottle of Herbanacle, but I motion for her to stop. “I’m not out here to relax.”
“Very well.” The succubus kneels, her hands demurely held in her lap. A submissive posture. An unassuming demeanor. “What do you want, my summoner?”
“Everything that Fen knows, you know as well.”
“I—"
“Don’t,” I snap without much heat. “No games. No tricky wordings. You are the strongest succubus in this realm. Everything goes through you. I know you already know everything she knows. Probably did from the moment she returned.”
Geneva’s pleasant expression collapses into something more stern. “I can do the same for you. Everything we know of your father’s death, given to you in a moment.”
“No.” Who knows what else will be transferred over? I am not so arrogant that I think I can foresee every eventuality and order against it. That’s why I limit all direct mental manipulation. “We will do this the old-fashioned way. No matter how long it takes or inefficient it may be.”
If my decision upsets her, there’s no trace of it in her expression. “Very well, my summoner. Where do we begin?”