Titus Phell

“Useless,” I muttered into my glass.

I took a sip of the wine inside, letting the taste permeate my mouth. Only, there was barely any taste. It was dull, having only the hint of grape within it. I reached for the bottle and brought it over to my eyes.

“Aged fifty years,” I read on the side of it.

I wanted to laugh. Lord Vine really did take us all for fools, and in many ways, he was right. He had managed to pawn this shoddy excuse for wine off on me, as well as every other noble in the city. Somehow, he’d convinced us all that if we didn’t have his wine at our estates when guests came over, they would see us as cheap and terrible hosts. A ruined reputation from not buying the most expensive wine in the market. Afraid of this, we all buy his wine, hoping to keep up appearances with every other noble, trying not to look weak.

It was a beautiful scheme, one I would praise if I was not a victim of it. It did not help that my frustration made it feel like a personal attack. A wine that was still younger than me, yet already dull and tasteless. Was he calling me old, selling this wine to me on purpose to remind me how much I have aged? I sighed as I took another sip, drowning my anger in a dull, tasteless wave.

“My Lord,” I heard Sir Callistar say at the door with a knock.

I placed the bottle and my glass on my desk, then sat down in the chair. Hundreds of documents, signed and unsigned, covered the piece of furniture, but I managed to find room for my drink. “Come in, Callistar,” I called.

“Sorry to bother you this late in the evening, my Lord.”

“It’s fine, Callistar,” I said, eyeing the documents in his hand, “What do you have for me?”

“More license requests from the guild. Most of them Aishyan.”

I started to scratch my beard, a habit I had grown when I was thinking. I sighed. “Bring them here. I’ll review them tonight and send them back to the guild in the morning.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

As I started reading and scribbling my signature on the applications that I accepted, I noticed an old letter underneath a stack of documents. I reached for it, remembering what it was. “Sir Callistar,” I called before he walked out of the room, “How are the children doing? It has been a while since I’ve checked up on them.”

“Ah, of course my Lord. Well…” Callistar paused, his eyes shifting from left to right, “They have only been here six months, so the amount of progress they’ve made is to be expected.”

I stared holes into the head of my estate. He was a hard worker, and a great leader. The Phell estate was a disaster of ill leadership and disobedient workers before him. Though, everything was like that within House Phell under my father’s rule. The only problem Sir Callistar had was that he was too soft. “Specifics, Callistar,” I told him.

He sighed, a gesture many of my standing would take offense to. I let it slide, sinking deeper into my chair and relaxing a bit. He would start with the good news, so there was no reason to give him my full attention just yet. “Lady Isla is an academic, my Lord. She is rather smart, with math and science coming easy to her. The way of noble life, such as manners and how to be a proper Lady, come less easily. She struggles with her dance lessons as well. Her instructors say her coordination is lacking, and is responsible for her failures.”

I nodded along. It wasn’t terrible news. She had been raised in a peasant family. There was no reason to be upset with her progress knowing this. In fact, her academic abilities seemed to excel further than I expected. It was a shame that the skill she was excellent at was the least necessary for her to learn.

“She has a rather shy temperament, and she rarely disobeys a direct order. She is also rather pretty, so I see no problems finding a proper suitor for her. The young lords will be begging their parents just to dance with her, even though it may result in several of their toes being stepped on.”

“Good. Good,” I said, rising in my chair a little. I scratched my beard as I thought of the possible alliances I could make with her marriage. My first thought went to Lord Partrinca, wondering if I could strengthen our relationship further, but I dismissed the idea. There was only so tight that a string could grow before one accidentally broke it. My eyes lingered to the bottle on my desk. His son was rather old for her, having just met his thirties, but that hardly mattered. Lord Vine had plenty of gold flowing in and out of his estate. It would be nice if some of it ended up in my pocket. I continued speaking with a grin on my face, “And what of the boy?”

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Callistar’s grin began to fall, so I sat up a bit more in my chair. Whatever was going on with the child, it wasn’t good news. “He is… challenging, my Lord. I don’t believe he holds the Phell name in as high of esteem as I do.”

I frowned. “Enough honey coated words, Callistar. Tell me about him.”

“He is extremely disobedient, my Lord. His skills are hard to measure, as he rarely puts any effort into anything we tell him to do. His academics seem to be below average, math being lower than the rest, but this could be purposeful. His manners are atrocious, though he does seem to have some respect for a few of the waiting staff. He is rather cordial to them, and almost the spitting image of a proper young lord. His dance lessons are one of the few things that actually go quite well, however. His instructors praise his footwork and he tends to put his own spin on a few of them whenever he can.”

“I see. He has a strong will, it seems.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

My smile lessened, but I did my best to hold on to it. A strong will wasn’t bad, it just needed to be put against the right things. Him being so hard headed meant that my plans for the future were more than likely to happen, if I could get them into his head, that is. I needed to open his mind somehow. I scratched at my beard, then an idea clicked. “Tell me about his magic, Callistar.”

“Of course. As you ordered, he rarely is given time to use it. This doesn’t seem to stop him, though. Lord Sean tends to use it often and becomes rather irritable when we tell him to stop. More than one guard has been called over by his tutors before and they tend to leave the room with frostbite or scratches from his pet beast.”

“I see,” I said, my grin returning. “Give the boy time to practice, Callistar. Make it a part of his daily schedule. Find some open area on the estate where he can use it, perhaps near where we keep his other giant beast, but put a limit on what he can do within the main house.”

Callistar looked confused. One of his eyebrows rose and his eyes widened a bit. “Are you… sure, my Lord,” he said tentatively. “When he first arrived, you made it clear that he shouldn’t be allowed to use magic.”

I frowned. “It was important that he learned restraint, but as I said earlier, he has a stronger will than expected. I wanted him to accept he could only do things when I allowed them, but things have changed. I do not turn a blind eye to talent,” I said, handing Callistar the old letter.

The old head of my estate took it and read it from top to bottom. “What is this?” he asked.

“A ploy,” I answered. “It seems the Archmage is discontent with the King, as well as his own influence.”

“I see. So he wishes to bring more of the nobility into the Magic Tower.”

“Precisely. Most nobles that have magic are already members of the Magic Tower, but that has lessened since the end of the war. The Archmage has seen a decrease in new mages, and thus more power.”

“And you intend to allow him to gain more power?” Callistar asked.

I smirked. “The dealings between the King and the Archmage are much too far for even me to influence, but I appreciate how highly you think of me. No, I don't intend to put myself between them.”

“Then, what do you want me to do with this, my lord,” he asked, holding up[ the letter.

“Answer it, of course. When a noble becomes a Mage, it doesn’t only give the Archmage power. Sure, nobles can’t throw their status as a Mage around, but just the knowledge of someone being a member of the Magic Tower can be a deterrent alone.”

“And you wish for the child to gain this status?”

“I do. The more power he has, the better. It will become mine in the long run. Have the girl participate as well. We can use this as a test for their first official public appearance. Increase her dance lessons as well. I want them both to perform well at the Twins Birthday Ball.”

“Of course, my Lord. I will have everything done immediately.”

“Thank you Callistar,” I said, pouring the rest of the glass into my mouth.

I began to pour another glass as the old man walked out, scratching at my beard with my other hand. “Before you leave,” I called to him, “How is Cori Brynor?”

Callistar looked startled, his eyes widening as he walked back into my office. “She is well, my Lord.”

“Don’t give me that look,” I chastised him. “Tell me more. How is she?”

“I am not sure. She spends most of her time in the room you gave her. As you commanded, she has little time with the children. The only time she leaves the estate is to attend church with Lady Phell. As far as I can tell, she seems rather content. However, she does miss her children, as any mother would.”

I scoffed. “Let her miss them. It seems an appropriate punishment for what she’s done.”

“Forgive me for speaking out, my Lord, but is not giving her your name punishment enough?”

I blinked, then let out a small laugh. “I suppose you may be right,” I said, taking another tasteless drink. “Let her have more time with the children. It may even further their progress.”

“Of course, my Lord. Anything else tonight?”

“No, Callistar. Thank you.”

Callistar nodded, then made his way out of the room. I leaned back in my chair, holding the glass to my lips. I breathed heavily into it. “Not so useless as you were, Father,” I mouthed as I took another sip. “Is this how you felt? Unsure what your heir would do? Terrified that they would change everything? Though I suppose it was good that I sent the house down a new path.”

I sat up, setting my drink down. I stared back down at my desk, examining the license request on top. It was for an Aishyan woman who had recently moved across the river.There was no doubt she was looking for a new life, and saw opportunity in a distant land. I started writing, ‘Denied,’ on the request form. She had no background in mercantile work, and she was asking the guild to provide her with contacts and equipment. A bad investment. I did not make bad investments.

“I won’t make the same mistake you did,” I whispered. “My heir will listen, and he will continue my legacy.”