Kalo smiled broadly. “No point in hiding it now. You shouldn’t have shared the Quest notice that said you were helping the Voice if you didn’t want to admit affiliation with Order’s Guild. I’ve helped a few Guild troubleshooters over the years; there’s no need to fear me letting your secret out. That’s why I sent Andarit away, she doesn’t know. I’m a little surprised you weren’t told I was a contact, that’s happened before.”
Kalo paused, seeming to give Serenity time to respond. Serenity didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything.
“If I could help you myself, I would. You troubleshooters handle things no one else does, things that need to be done.” Kalo paused and his smile seemed to weaken and almost become sad, even though his lips still curved upwards. “It doesn’t hurt that the rewards for helping are good, and I’d like to get that for my daughter. Everything’s falling apart; we have only one land-link back to the rest of civilization from Lowpeak, and it’s growing more dangerous each year. Zenith is still rich, but everything else is withering. I’m worried we’ll need to support ourselves without trade soon, and that will be hard. The more I can get for my daughter, the better.”
Serenity had no idea how to answer that. The Duke’s assumption was probably reasonable, given what he knew, but it wasn’t true. What was Serenity supposed to do about that?
Well, there was always the option of brutal honesty. It was Serenity’s preference, after all. It might be convenient to have the Duke assume he was with a larger organization, but it might also hold pitfalls.
Serenity shook his head. “I don’t know if there will be any rewards for helping or not. I wouldn’t count on it. I’m not with that Guild. I was simply the only person the Voice could ask who could help; I was in a special situation, that’s all. I needed to travel offplanet to learn and practice anyway, so it worked out for both of us.”
Serenity paused to let the Duke reply. When he didn’t, Serenity decided he had more to say. “I won’t turn down assistance, but I don’t want you to think I’ve got an organization backing me up when I don’t. I will probably have some friends here in a few weeks; my fiancee will come if I don’t tell her not to, and so far there’s no reason to tell her to stay away. I’ve asked her to wait for some friends to arrive since she’s never been off Earth and I’m not sure exactly how long it will take them to get here.”
“If you aren’t a member, I suspect someone will come to check you out at some point.” The Duke scowled at the table for a moment, then looked back up at Serenity. “I’m still willing to help as much as I reasonably can. Kidnapping’s a bad thing, regardless of the reason. All I think I can realistically do, however, is hire you. I couldn’t do more even if you were with Order’s Guild; my position as one of the last frontier Dukes is precarious as it is. As for the reward for Andarit, well, the one I want most would come from the Voice, not the Guild, and a challenge is just the thing to bring it. Please don’t tell Andarit that.”
“Why not?” Serenity didn’t know why Andarit’s father would be against having her know that he wanted her to get something from the Voice that required a challenge; that had to mean a Path option. That was what the Voice did for everyone, and everyone knew that you were more likely to be Noticed if you did something difficult, even if it was actually easy for you.
“Confidence,” Kalo started, then shook his head. “I’m worried I’ve been pushing her too hard. She knows that I want her to take a proper Lord’s Path, but she doesn’t have one available. Making her have a bodyguard is bad enough, telling her that part of the reason is her lack of a Path I approve of is worse. The last thing a future Lord can do is lose confidence; realism is necessary but I can’t make the mountains so tall she can’t possibly climb them.”
A father’s worry, then. Serenity made a note of it; he’d want to remember this when he was trying to handle his children. It was months away; longer than that until he needed to worry about his eldest’s confidence. It would still be all too soon.
Serenity heard footsteps coming from outside. They were clearly not trying to be quiet. “Is there anything else you need to say with your daughter out of the room?”
Kalo shook his head. “No, I think that’s everything. If I hadn’t been asked to keep that quiet - well, I can’t tell you more either, as it stands.” He turned his head towards the door and raised his voice. “You can come in, Andarit!”
Andarit stomped into the room and sat down. “I want in.”
“What?” Serenity felt blindsided again. Why did people always say such random things?
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“I want in,” Andarit repeated. “To whatever you two were planning while I was out. To your quest. Whatever. I’m tired of being a trophy and whenever I do anything that shows I’m more, I get us into trouble for showing someone else up. So I need to do something that doesn’t compete with the other noble kids and their ridiculous pride. Come on, a group of third-Tier combat specialists that won’t go past the sixth floor in a well-known, completely mapped dungeon? That’s ridiculous.”
The sixth floor of a standard dungeon should be simple and straightforward for an appropriately-sized group of Tier Three people, even if their specialties weren’t perfectly aligned. The seventh floor would be harder, but if it were completely mapped it would probably be quite possible to complete with no major injuries. Of course, that always depended on the group; Tier and actual combat capability didn’t always line up. On the other hand, Andarit had said they were combat specialists.
“They’ve been carefully taught that pushing their limits is how you get hurt and have privileges taken away.” Kalo - no, that was definitely Duke Lowpeak advising one of his subjects - stated. “It means that the nobles don’t have to get a new heir. Their younger children are trained by Courts and carefully taught that if they want to overcome obstacles, they will have to take risks. Those who do not learn that, or who are unlucky, wither or die. Those who are lucky … well, there’s a reason that about half of the children who inherit a noble seat are not the oldest who lived to adulthood. It is a fashion set by royalty, but one that Lowpeak never followed. There is a reason we are called Lowpeak.”
“It’s not because of the mountain?” Andarit sounded tentative. Her hands were in her lap, but they were wound around each other, tense.
The Duke shook his head. “No. That is the official reason, but the truth is that we chose a different Path. One that the nobles of the day derided as having a lower peak, yet here we are and they are not. Our highest may not reach quite as high, but their highest leave and we have both our highest and those who their plan will kill.”
Serenity nodded sadly. Vengeance had definitely been one of the ones who strove for the highest peak, even if that was as much because he didn’t know any better as because he truly wanted it. Serenity wanted to take a safer Path this time. Still successful, and not truly safe, but safer. “It is hard to stay safe and still stretch yourself. At the same time, burning bright often means that you do not burn for long. It is a choice you will make more than once. I know that I have.”
“Why are you talking like an elder? You’re not any older than I am!” Andarit’s challenge was interrupted by her father’s laugh. Her head whipped towards him and she glared. “What’s so funny?”
“He’s older than he looks. Quite a bit older, but even at his apparent age he could well have been through what he said. Many of the younger children of nobles have. I fear you have been sheltered.” Kalo grinned at his daughter. “That is not the question, however. The question is if you are willing to follow his orders while he chases his Quest. There will be some you will not like, but you must follow them anyway or you should not participate at all.”
Serenity knew he needed to speak up before Andarit took that the wrong way. “I’ll want your help before we go anywhere to figure out what we should do. You know this world better than I do. Your father’s right about during the Quest. You need to be able to follow the plan even if something bad happens, and I need to be the one to change things if they change quickly. Even if it looks like I’m doing something crazy. That’s something we can work up to. On the other hand, when I’m bodyguarding you, you’re in charge of everything except your safety. You tell me where we’re going and what we’re doing.”
Serenity could see emotions flicker across Andarit’s face, but he had no idea what they were. “If you want, we can start on a trial basis. We agree to start with what I’ve outlined and see if it works, adjust from there as needed?”
This time, Serenity saw Andarit’s eyes dash over to her father. He nodded slightly. After that, Andarit seemed to think for a moment before she answered. “That sounds like a good way to start. I, ah, there’s a dance at the Palace this evening. I’ll be going, but surely you don’t have to since it’s at the Palace?”
“He’ll be going,” Duke Lowpeak informed his daughter. “The sooner people start seeing him with you, the better, and the Palace is a good place to start. Many Heirs have a bodyguard. Your brother and I will be attending as well.”
“This evening?” Serenity looked back and forth between the two. Wasn’t this really short notice? Why was he the one to think of this? “What am I supposed to wear?”
Both of them turned to look at him. Serenity got the feeling it was the first time either of them had thought about how he’d look in a formal setting in his well-worn Tutorial outfit.
“I have armor that I can, ah, adjust to look differently if that will help, but it always looks like armor.” He was wearing it as he spoke, but it was adjusted to look more like tight-fitting underclothes than armor. It was the closest he could really come to something someone who’d done what he did as “Thomas” in the Tutorial would have worn, and it only worked because no one really noticed it. While he could have made it imitate armored clothing, he’d found that it was obvious that it wasn’t just cloth. At least, it was obvious to him and he had to assume that it would be obvious to anyone watching. He didn’t want to stand out as Thomas.
Kalo tapped the table as he thought, but he didn’t think for long. “Can you make it obviously foreign? We can’t make you look like you’re from Zon, so we might as well make you stand out.”