It’s easy to forget but the Hall isn’t just a school. It’s a gathering place of the talented, in all fields. The best and the innovative. While most of the floating rock is dedicated to casters, the Grand Market houses geniuses of every kind. It’s also where visitors with business that takes more than a day have to set up.
I’ve never stayed here before, but they have a lot of unique establishments. The restaurant that Arthur is fond of is a good example. The Market is the only place I can think of that has characters serving people their food. Maybe the Myriad Zone might have something like that, but that place is unique enough on its own.
Unfortunately and perhaps predictably, Lord Remmings decided not to stay in a fun place. In fact, I’d wager he drove around and found the most boring hotel on this rock. A nice hotel, painted in white and gold with arched windows and a slanted roof that curls at the end like a stylish moustache. A hand painted sign over the door has a picture of a bee hugging a piece of bread with the words The Honeycomb under it. Small, quaint, and warm. It’s the kind of place I imagine a rich grandma might open if she got tired of dealing with grandkids and wanted to keep herself busy in her golden years.
The inside doesn’t dissuade me of that opinion. There’s literally a grandma behind the front desk, curled up in a tall chair with a blanket over her legs and knitting in her hand. An orange and white tabby is curled up on a red pillow at the end of the counter, tail lazily swishing through the air. There are three small, square tables arranged before the front windows with trays of small baked goods on trays in the middle of them. An older couple sits at the corner table, enjoying tea and a sunny day. The view is worthy of being painted and hung in someone’s living room as a mood to aspire to when inviting people into their homes.
Dread builds in my gut as I imagine a man who chooses to stay in a place like this mixing with elves. Pushing aside my negative premonitions, I fix a smile to my face, hold out my arm to Talia, and approach the front desk. The old woman behind it looks up, keen eyes flicking over us. “Afternoon, madam. We’re here to visit one of your guests. Remmings?”
“Sure thing, dear. Are you expected?”
“No, but my companion is his daughter. Please send a message that Umphrieltaia is here.”
“Oh! You’re family. That’s nice. None of my children can be bothered to visit their mother anymore. They blame me for moving away from the city, but we were a continent away even when we were a few streets away, yeah? I wasn’t going to sit in a big, empty house alone and a friend offered to let me work the desk. I don’t need the money but it’s fun meeting all our guests. The strangest people find their way here. Though I imagine most of that will be slowing down with all the trouble in the city. Terrible thing that…”
It’s incredible. Her tone is slow and halting, as if she’ll get too tired to say another word at any moment but her mouth never stops moving. Neither do her hands. She scribbles out a note and slaps a bell that brings a scrawny young man running to her side. He takes off with the message and her hands go back to her crafts, moving the needles with startling speed. She’s still talking when the boy returns with a folded piece of paper.
“Oh good. He’s willing to see you now, dears. I hope you have a pleasant visit.”
“Thank you.” Well. Good to see there are people still living their lives. For a while, I imagined I’d broken the world. Changed people’s futures for the worse in an irreparable way. Yet, here this woman is, worry-free. I don’t know if that’s ignorance or a hardiness of the heart crafted through a long life of ups and downs, but it makes me smile.
Which is good because I don’t think I could have knocked on Remmings’ door with a friendly expression otherwise. I even manage to hold it when he opens it.
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Hm. Not exactly what I was expecting. Exactly the tightly buttoned jacket wearer I expect to be staying in a place like this but lacking the intimidating factors I’d expect for the man who leads such an unsavory bunch as the interrogators. Younger than I expected too. He looks like he’s barely into his forties and he’s been the head interrogator for at least as long as he’s had Talia under his wing. Unless he was given one of the most prestigious positions in the kingdom in his twenties, he’s had work done and by a very good healer. Can’t even see any gray in his short, dark hair.
“Talia.” There’s warmth in his voice as he greets her, but his thin lips remain tightly pressed together and his dark eyes critical. There’s plenty of nose for him to look down as he turns to me. “And you must be Lourianne Tome. A meeting long overdue.”
“If only life were more accommodating,” I say, smile straining in the face of his obvious contempt.
“Will you invite us in?”
“Of course.” Lord Remmings steps back, holding the door open wide. “I don’t have much, but I always have manners. Come in, I’ll send for refreshments.”
“Better we don’t,” Talia says, stopping us before we can move away from the door. “We won’t be staying long.”
Ah. That breaks his stern mask. “I hardly see you as it is.”
“Something I mean to rectify. We are to here to invite you to dinner with the whole clan.”
“The family should all meet,” I add, hoping I sound sincere. It’s a little difficult with those beady eyes trying to peer into me. This man has a gaze like a stray cat, watching everything around it for one wrong move. Watching me for one wrong move. This man clearly doesn’t like me and I don’t blame him. However, I know one person that will blame him. Three people even. The elves don’t tolerate differing opinions. They’re going to take this hostility as a challenge. And they’ll expect him to follow up on it.
“I’d be delighted to come.”
“Glad to hear it. And I just had a great idea.” I don’t need to be a mind reader to know this requires intervention. “You guys really should spend more time together. Why don’t you stay the afternoon, Talia? Enjoy the Market, have a bit of fun. I’ll send Earl to collect you for dinner.”
“That sounds like a grand plan,” Lord Remmings says, his frown lessening in severity the slightest amount.
“I’d be delighted,” Talia says. Despite her closed eyes, I can feel her attention and the question behind it.
“Great, great. Lord Remmings, I’m looking forward to a long conversation over a nice drink. Talia, show me out?”
She hums and lets me lead her from the room and I close the door behind us firmly. I press her against the door, as close as I can get to out of view.
“Taking me where my guardian can hear?” she whispers as quietly as she can.
“Is that a no?” I reply just as softly. I doubt her guardian-father is actually eavesdropping on us but it wouldn’t take much to be overheard.
“Do with me as you will.”
It might be possible that our flower is too accommodating. Still, I can’t help stealing a kiss. “You need to work on him,” I whisper heatedly, fighting the tantalizing idea she’s put in my head. “He can’t be that aggressive tonight, not unless he wants to defend those feelings in combat. I’ll give him every benefit, but I can’t have him undermining my efforts with Kierra’s parents. If he doesn’t correct himself, he’s going to force me to correct him. I’d be gentle but…”
Better to be a little rough with him and keep the rowdy elves in check than let him have his way and risk a brawl having to prove myself. Quest is already in ruins. A fight between me, Orum, and Morgene? Saints, just me and Orum. The city will be dust.
“I’ll explain the situation.”
“I trust you to be tactful.”
“Mm.”
“And maybe you can sniff out his motives? Beyond being a father-guardian.” Talia is talented. Incredibly talented and I’m not just speaking out of bias. However, I refuse to believe there is no one that can match that talent in all of Harvest. She’s also unique in that she has no agendas besides personal ones and can be trusted as a fair arbitrator in any investigation, but one woman isn’t going to bring all the corruption in the capital to a halt.
The interrogators would be bettered for having her but she’s not so crucial that Lord Remmings needs to go through the trouble of taking up temporary residence in the Hall to convince her. And if she is, I would like to know why.
“How strenuous would you like the questioning to be?”
“You would…”
“He has been my guardian for a long time, but he isn’t clan. Not unless he chooses to be.”
I chuckle as I hug her, careful not to apply any real pressure. “Never change, Talia.”
“Even flowers grow. Kierra tells me the best flowers grow more beautiful with age.”
“And you are certainly the best.”
She smiles broadly for her, which means just a hint of white teeth. “I will be.”