Chapter Eighteen
Vincen
The Sky Train’s carriage crested the ridge with a rattle of steel cable against steel wheels as they passed through another of the countless pylons that stretched between Marisette and the Lake of Fire and, despite the early hour, Vincen smiled as he got his first look at the source of his family’s wealth and power. The sun had yet to rise above the mountains beyond the lake, but the sky was growing brighter nonetheless, and through the large observation window at the front of the carriage a vast expanse of water appeared before them, stretching away to the north and the south as far as the eye could see. The surface of the lake was as smooth as glass and, despite the dim morning light, the turquoise green water reflected the snow-capped and nearly treeless mountains beyond. To the north, a low, flickering orange glow lit the horizon and glinted off the water, seemingly caught between the sky and the lake, giving an ominous feel to the otherwise serene landscape. He had always known that one day, he would finally get to see the famous fire fountains of the Lake, and now that the time had arrived, he found himself as eager as a child on the morning of his birthday.
Ahead of them, the path of the Sky Train dropped a bit as it approached the shore of the lake, heading directly for a large metal building that stood amongst a collection of much smaller shacks, barns and warehouses, haphazardly arranged into what could generously be described as a village. The large pipe that stretched between the Sky Train pylons suddenly curved away, dropping down to a collection of three massive holding tanks that sat at the far outskirts of the town. Gravel roads and trolly tracks wove their way into the village from every direction - some skirting the shore of the lake, some emerging from the thick woods that surrounded the village, though no tree stood any closer to the small town than a hundred yards. Steel pipes as thick around as tree trunks followed nearly every road and track, held a couple of feet off the ground by large blocks of wood or stone placed at regular intervals. People were everywhere, even though the sun had not yet risen, pushing supply carts or lugging around strange looking tools with purposes that Vincen could only guess at. Runelights were everywhere in the village - some mounted to poles that lined the streets and walkways, with many more mounted to the large building that was obviously the center of all the activity. Their carriage passed over the abrupt edge of the forest and into the clearing around the village, and Vincen felt his excitement growing. The Lake of Fire was a place of legend. The stories told of it throughout the Empire were almost as varied as those of the Spirit Lights, but for Vincen, the Lake held a special place in his heart. His family had been tied to the Lake for longer than he could remember, and though he had never seen it with his own eyes the mysteries, stories, and wealth that it held were almost as much a part of him as the Academy was. He hadn’t understood until just now - despite his father’s lectures about duty and responsibility - but this was his inheritance, this was his legacy. This was his purpose. A spurt of flame erupted from the lake, drawing Vincen’s attention as it shot into the sky, disrupting the serene surface of the water with a boiling froth and bathing the landscape in the flickering yellow-red light of its fire. As though it could not stand to be outshone, the sun finally emerged from behind the mountains, and the world came alive.
“Wow,” Rayna muttered, and Vincen realized she was floating next to him, looking out the window and shaking her head. Everyone else had gathered around the window as well and they were all taking in the sight with varying expressions of awe. “I never quite believed it when they said the lake was actually on fire,” Rayna said with a sigh and another shake of her head. The large building quickly drew closer and before he knew it they were suddenly inside and with a series of clunking sounds, their carriage disengaged from the main cable and they immediately slowed as they slid into a side track and began to descend. They were in a massive, well-lit cargo bay that resembled some of the train stations Vincen had visited before, only ten times as large and entirely enclosed. Off to one side he could see two other carriages sitting alongside each other, their large balloons tethered to the dock as thick hoses snaked across the floor, connecting to the carriages and looking for all the world like diagrams Vincen had seen showing the human cardiovascular system. Laborers were scurrying back and forth like ants on an anthill and, from their vantage point above the docks, they looked about as small ants as well, particularly since everything else was so large in comparison. The scale of the operation was almost overwhelming and, after a moment of looking around and trying to take everything in, he decided instead to focus on the cable system that had drawn them up the mountain. At the far end of the bay there was a massive wheel mounted atop a large platform, and the cable was wrapped around it and pulled tight, stretching across the open expanse of the building. There were no pylons inside the building, instead steel beams spanned the ceiling with poles dropping low at intervals, which supported the cable with pulleys and other strange devices that Vincen couldn’t figure out. He smiled briefly as he imagined Ona zipping about and examining everything. She loved new places and contraptions and her excitement was infectious. Rayna shifted next to him, craning her neck in order to see better around the edge of the window. With a sigh he pushed thoughts of Ona away. If he had to think about someone, it should be Rayna, or, better yet, Alba.
Their carriage suddenly turned sharply, and Vincen felt a new shudder rumble up from the deck at their feet. A moment later they were sliding into a docking platform that reminded Vincen almost exactly of the King’s Platform in Albaron City, complete with a large tapestry embroidered with the Canto crest, supported by cables hanging from the ceiling high above. A small contingent of guards was waiting for them, with a somewhat grizzled looking man dressed in a dark green frock coat standing at their head. Two other men stood with him, slightly behind and to his side, and Vincen caught a glimpse of a silver Mereologist badge hanging from one of the men’s neck. They all snapped to attention as the carriage came to a stop with a small thud and one last shudder as the locking mechanisms clamped into place.
One of the servants stepped away from the wall where she had been quietly standing and moved to the door near the back end of the carriage. She waited there and, after a moment, there was a quiet hissing sound from somewhere outside and the air in the carriage stirred, becoming a bit more cool and less close - a sensation Vincen hadn’t even been aware of until it had changed just now. The servant reached into a pocket of her skirt and pulled out a key, which she inserted into a lock in the center of the door. A rune light above the door flickered on and, after a brief moment, turned green. The servant twisted the key and pulled a latch, then swung the door outward where a dock worker was waiting. The man caught the door and pulled it the rest of the way open, latching it back against the side of the carriage. Vincen watched with his eyes wide and mouth half open, wondering why in the world simply opening a door had to be such a complex operation.
Vincen stepped forward, but Kelso’s hand on his shoulder drew him up short. Nahuel emerged from a shadow somewhere and Vincen once again found himself wondering how such a large man could hide so easily, even in such a small space. The halberdier glanced at them, and Kelso nodded. Nahuel nodded back, then turned and stepped through the door, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Rayna sighed and Vincen turned to look at her. She had her arms crossed and was frowning as she watched Nahuel slowly looking back and forth across the people waiting outside on the platform. The contingent held their poise well, though Vincen could tell they were clearly uncomfortable under Nahuel’s gaze. He shivered in sympathy.
“He’s doing that weird thing he does, isn't he?” Rayna asked, and Vincen nodded.
“Yeah, probably. I feel kind of bad for them, but I guess it’s necessary.”
“What is it, exactly? Telepathy, or something?”
“Not exactly,” Kelso replied, gesturing for Ferran and Miquel to take their places next to the door. “If I understand correctly, he can sense intent.”
“Say what?” Rayna asked, turning to Kelso with her face scrunched up in confusion.
“I don’t understand completely, but he can tell what people are intending to do simply by looking at them. He knows if someone is hostile or planning violence, or if they are benign. It’s a truly marvelous Skill, and one I’ve never heard the likes of before.”
“Yeah, well, when he ‘looked’ at me, it felt like he was tearing me apart, then forgot to put the pieces back together again.”
Kelso raised an eyebrow. “Lady Ona had mentioned that she felt uncomfortable around him as well. I would love to hear more about your experience one of these days.”
Vincen sighed. Once Kelso found a new or interesting topic to study it would be nearly impossible to get him to focus on anything else for at least several days. Fortunately Nahuel chose that moment to turn and nod at them through the doorway before stepping aside. Kelso cleared his throat and gestured for Ferran and Miquel to step forward, which they did with a regal bearing Vincen had rarely seen from the two. They looked every bit the proper retainers of a duke, with their livery sharply pressed and their heads held high. They stepped quickly from the carriage and immediately took up positions on either side of the door, while Nahuel remained on guard a few steps further out on the platform. Vincen straightened himself up, suddenly very aware of his appearance, and next to him Rayna sighed.
“Is all this really necessary?” she said, shaking her head.
“Yes,” Kelso said quietly out the side of his mouth, then walked briskly to the door. He stepped through without even a glance at the high door sill and walked several paces onto the platform before stopping and turning to the side. He drew himself up straight and folded one hand behind his back while gesturing back to the carriage door with the other. “The Lord Mage Vincen Canto,” he said in a loud, clear voice, and Vincen started toward the door himself, walking with a careful, unhurried step as Kelso continued his introduction. “Heir-apparent to Prince Andreu Canto and the future Duke of Selise.”
He couldn’t help but glance at the sill as he stepped over it, uncomfortably aware of how much taller it was than a standard door sill, and again found himself wondering about the complexity of the contraption. But the sudden motion of the people gathered in front of him bowing low caught his attention. As one, the four guards slowly drew their swords and pointed them upwards at an angle, then pulled them in close and held them upright, only an inch or two from their faces. Vincen had never experienced an honor guard before, though they had practiced this greeting a handful of times at the Academy, mostly so the commoner mages could grow accustomed to the ceremony. Rayna floated along beside him, looking over the gathering with a frown. She’s going to have to get used to this, he thought, then stopped walking as he drew alongside Kelso. For that matter, so am I…
Kelso stepped back into position just behind Vincen and immediately began whispering in his ear.
“The gentleman in the middle is of course Mister Eloi Codina, your father’s Chief of Operations. The man to his right is Luis Garenier, his second, and the mereologist to Codina’s left is Jaime Beltran, Chief Engineer and liaison to the Royal Society.”
Vincen recognized the names, of course - Kelso had made certain of that during their long trip up the mountain - but now he had faces to put to the two men he had not previously met. He gave a brief nod and stepped forward with a confidence he only barely felt. This was not as awkward as his meeting with Ferran and Miquel’s parents had been, but the formalities lent the greetings a certain gravitas he had not been expecting.
“Rise, gentlemen,” he said, trying to sound jovial as he approached the contingent. He reached out to take Codina’s hand as the Chief of Operations stood, but at the last second he remembered the man’s scarred hands and instead clasped him on the shoulder, hoping no one had noticed the last second change of plans. “It is good to see you again, my friend. These facilities are truly impressive,” he said gesturing to the gondola balloons docked nearby. “If what we have seen already is any indication, my father and the King were right to entrust these operations to your capable hands.”
Rayna snickered slightly and Vincen suppressed a wince. He wasn’t a big fan of all this pomp and circumstance either, but they were all going to have to get used to it. It was what was expected of him. He made a mental note to try and avoid being anywhere near Rayna when Kelso took her aside to lecture her later. He noticed the Chief Engineer’s eyes flit momentarily in her direction. Codina, however, did not seem to notice and instead nodded at Vincen gratefully, a polite smile on his weather-worn face.
“Thank you, My Lord,” he said, his voice just as gravely as Vincen remembered. “There is, of course, much more for you to see. These are merely the docks, which is not to downplay their significance. After all, if we cannot get product to and from the facilities, then there is little point to anything else we do here.”
Vincen nodded, suddenly seeing the docks - and Codina - in a new light. In only two sentences, the man had already taught Vincen a valuable lesson, and reminded him of the importance of a seemingly common part of the operation. Capable hands, indeed…
Codina stepped aside and gestured at the other two men. “My Lord,” he said. “May I introduce my second in command, Mister Luis Garenier? Also present is our Chief Engineer, Mage Jaime Beltran.” The men stepped forward as Codina introduced them, each bowing in turn. Vincen gave them each a nod, and they stepped back into place. Codina glanced at Kelso, then to the spot beside Vincen where Rayna was floating, watching everything with a look of amusement. If Vincen hadn’t known better, he would have sworn Codina could actually see her. “It is my understanding,” Codina said, looking back at Vincen and narrowing his eyes ever so slightly, the hint of a grin playing at the edges of his mouth, “that your sister, the Lady Rayna, is with us as well?”
Vincen blinked. Few people yet knew about Rayna. They weren’t hiding her existence, of course - far too many people had seen her when she first arrived - but neither were they publicly announcing her. There were still far too many questions about her that needed answering, after all. His father must have notified Codina about her, he realized. Vincen nodded, forcing a smile back onto his own face. “Yes, of course. Forgive me.” He turned slightly and gestured at Rayna, trying not to feel foolish. At the Academy, nearly everyone on the grounds could see shades, but Vincen was still getting used to the fact that in the real world, hardly anyone was aware of their presence. He would have to remember to introduce her immediately from now on. “Rayna,” he said as she folded her arms again, looking between Vincen and Codina with a raised eyebrow, “allow me to introduce you to Mister Eloi Codina, the Chief of Operations for our mining facilities here at the Lake of Fire. Mister Codina, my sister, the Lady Rayna.”
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Codina bowed in Rayna’s direction. “Señorita Rayna, it is a pleasure.” Vincen was surprised to see Rayna blush slightly - he’d seen Ona do it enough to recognize it even in shades - and return him a curtsy. At least, the best curtsy she could manage in trousers and a cloak. Then she looked at Vincen and shot him a glare that said he’d better not ever mention it.
Vincen shook his head then turned and gestured at Kelso. “This is Kelso D’ottavio, my valet and head of staff. Also with me are my retainers, Ferran and Miquel Escoffier. They are all well versed in business theory, and I expect that they will assist me greatly in understanding the finer points of our operations.” Each nodded as Vincen introduced them, then he turned to Nahuel. “And this is Captain Nahuel, on loan to me from the King’s own Halberdiers. Please forgive his imposing demeanor. He has spent far too long in the presence of my cousin and as a result has quite forgotten how to be human.” The halberdier didn’t even blink, and Vincen frowned slightly before turning back to Codina as Rayna failed to suppress a chuckle. “That is not to say he is not good at his job, however. A matter to which I can personally attest.”
“Si, but of course,” Codina said, smiling as he nodded respectfully to Nahuel. “There are few who have not heard of the mighty Capitan, vanquisher of kings and unruly young mages.” Nahuel nodded back at Codina, and Vincen thought he caught a hint of a smile on the halberdier's lips…
Someone cleared their throat and Vincen looked over as Codina’s second, Garenier, stepped forward. He was not a young man, but neither did he share Codina’s weather-worn and world-wise visage. He too wore a neatly pressed dark green frock coat with the Canto crest on the left breast, and his sharp, observant eyes reminded Vincen of Kelsos. Garenier nodded his respect to Vincen, then addressed Codina. “Pardon me, sir, but the young Lord has been traveling all night, and is most likely in need of refreshment. Perhaps we should show him to the Lake House?”
Codina nodded as if the thought had not occurred to him. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Luis.” He turned back to face Vincen and gestured toward a door at the far end of the platform, past the guards. “If it pleases you, My Lord?”
Vincen glanced at Kelso, who looked back at the carriage. At some point after his introduction Ferran had slipped away and was in the process of seeing to their luggage. Kelso turned back to Vincen and, seemingly satisfied that things were well in hand, nodded. Vincen sighed. There was so much he was going to have to get used to now. He looked at Codina and gestured toward the door. “Please, lead the way.”
Codina nodded and waved a hand at the guards, who sheathed their swords and turned as one to face the door. Garenier and Beltran, the mereologist, stepped back, and it took Vincen a moment before he realized that he was expected to walk beside Codina. It wouldn’t do for anyone other than a guard to walk ahead of the son of a prince, after all. Vincen suppressed another sigh - he’d been doing that a lot lately - and stepped forward, which was the cue Codina had been waiting for. In a moment the entire retinue was crossing the platform - with Codina nominally leading the way - heading for the doorway. Beside him, barely audible, he heard Kelso speaking to Rayna.
“Lady Rayna, if I may?”
“Yeah, what is it?” she said, her voice coming from somewhere behind him and to his right.
“Please, try and remember your position. It was not right for you to defer to mister Codina earlier.”
“What do you mean? He bowed, I curtsied. Isn’t that what you're supposed to do?”
“Only to someone of a greater station than yourself. He is a commoner. You are not. Under normal conditions a Lady of your status would allow him to kiss your hand. In your case, where such a thing is not possible, a simple acknowledgement of his fealty would suffice, such as a small nod of the head.”
“He’s a commoner?” she said, incredulous. “Best-dressed commoner I’ve ever seen…” It was all Vincen could do to keep his eyes straight ahead and his face straight, as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Rayna continued, oblivious to his amusement. “But what’s it matter anyway? He can’t even see me.”
Kelso sighed, and Vincen didn’t need to turn around to picture the look on his friend's face. “Yes, my Lady, he is a commoner. And even though he cannot see you, there are plenty of others present who can. You would do well to remember that even were he not a commoner, the number of people in the entire Empire that you are required to bow to currently stands at three, and one of those three is your father.”
“Yeah…” she muttered, and Vincen couldn’t help but grin a little as he could almost feel the chagrin in her voice. “That’s going to take some getting used to…”
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Vincen stood on the balcony of his father’s study at Casa del Fuego, looking at the mountains and the lake and smelling the fresh pine air, and decided right then that he would be spending as much time as possible at the mountain cottage. ‘Cottage’, however, was a bit of a misnomer - the cliff side house was larger by half than any home inside Savaria, their own included, though it was certainly smaller than their estate in the country. That said, it had a rustic charm that Vincen was beginning to realize he preferred over the ostentatious manors his parent’s generation prized. The wood and stone structure was perched atop a cliff about half a mile north of the docking facilities, surrounded by pine trees and served by a narrow but well maintained gravel road. There was a chill in the air, but the sun was warm and even the occasional sulfuric whiff of gas did little to distract him from the serenity of his surroundings. He could almost imagine taking a rowboat onto the water and laying back, letting the wind and the sun wash over him. That would be suicide on this lake, he knew, but the thought still made him grin. Almost as if the Lake had read his mind a flame spurt erupted from the water not even a quarter mile out, and was immediately followed by a gentle knock on the study door. Vincen sighed - his contemplative mood broken - and turned away from the balcony railing as Kelso entered the study, quietly closing the door behind him.
“Lunch is ready, I take it?” Vincen said, stepping back into the study through the large glass doors that had been opened wide and snatching his jacket off the arm of one of the high-back chairs sitting across from his father’s desk. He hadn’t quite been able to bring himself to sit behind the large wooden desk that dominated the center of the room - it reminded him far too much of his father’s desk back home in Savaria - but had still found himself drawn to the room. He had never been here before, but there was an undeniable nostalgia to the space, and Vincen could tell that his father had spent a lot of time sitting at this very desk, poring over ledgers and reports.
“Yes, my Lord,” Kelso replied, standing straight and folding his hands behind his back. “They are waiting on us.”
“What was your father like?” Vincen asked as he started to pull his jacket on. Then he paused, frowning, and pulled it back off again and draped it over his arm instead. The mountain air was far too pleasant, and somehow the jacket just felt… wrong.
Kelso hesitated, blinking. “I’m sorry… My father?”
“Yeah… I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. He sighed and gestured around the study: at the bookcases and side tables, the fireplace with its wide hearth and easy chair, the large chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and the small liquor cabinet in the corner. “This room, it's just… Sorry. I know you don’t like talking about home.”
Kelso nodded slowly, then closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again he looked around the study as if seeing it for the first time. He smiled softly, and Vincen suddenly realized it had been a few days at least since he had seen his friend smile. Not since the night of Borden’s massacre, now that he thought of it…
“Yes,” Kelso said, still looking around the room. “I could imagine our father’s might have been friends, had times been different.” Then he opened the door again and stepped aside, gesturing out into the hall. “Regardless, everyone is waiting on you. Oh, and by the way…” Kelso reached into his jacket and withdrew a folded paper, then held it out for Vincen. “When Ferran returned from seeing to our luggage he had this for you. From the capital.”
Vincen took the paper, noting a rail clerk’s stamp on the front. He raised an eyebrow at Kelso.
“It is from your father,” Kelso said. “Lady Alba and her retinue have arrived safely in Clement. That is all it says, I’m afraid.”
Vincen sighed, folding the telegram in half and stuffing it into the pocket of his trousers. “That’s good,” he said, suddenly irritated at his father’s brusqueness. He could have at least passed on some news of how well Alba was healing. “Anyway,” he said, gesturing out the door, “Lead on.”
“Your jacket?” Kelso said, nodding at Vincen’s arm. Vincen followed his gaze and frowned. The heavy wool of his jacket was already starting to make his forearm itch, so with a shrug he tossed it back onto the chair. Before Kelso could object he turned and strode from the study.
The dining hall was only a short walk from the study and as soon as Vincen stepped into the hallway he could smell the sweet aroma of buttered rolls and roast beef, and his stomach immediately reminded him that they had not had a proper meal prior to boarding the Sky Train the previous evening. The hallway was not very long, though it was high, with exposed logwork trusses supporting a paneled ceiling and runelight sconces placed along the walls, designed to resemble old-style wax candelabras. The effect was not quite as realistic as the craftsmen had no doubt intended, but was a convincing enough likeness that Vincen could still appreciate their efforts. After less than a dozen paces they came to a pair of large double doors that were propped open, beyond which lay a long, somewhat narrow dark wooden table, with ten or so chairs placed along either side. The room was surprisingly bright, despite not having any windows, and Vincen glanced up to see two large, ornately carved runelight chandeliers hanging over the table, and several more of the faux-candelabra sconces lining the walls.
As Kelso had said, nearly everyone from their earlier retinue was already in the dining room, milling around and speaking with each other, or admiring one of the half-dozen pieces of art that adorned the walls. The servants had already distributed some wine, though Vincen noticed that neither Ferran, Miquel, or Nahuel were holding a glass. Eloi Codina noticed them enter, and nodded briefly at the uniformed man he had been speaking with before stepping forward to greet Vincen.
“Lord Vincen, the casa is to your liking, yes?” the administrator asked, holding out his hand to Vincen.
Vincen managed not to wince as he took the leathery, scarred hand in his own and gave it a hearty shake, then gestured around the small yet surprisingly grand dining room. “Indeed, Master Codina. This place is… amazing. I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to my friends and I, because I don’t think I’m ever leaving.”
Codina let out a sharp laugh - more of a bark, really - and patted Vincen on the shoulder, gently directing him to the chair at the head of the table. “Your father said the same on his first visit. Two years later, we finally convinced him to go home, much to the relief of his fiancée.”
Vincen laughed and looked at Codina as they reached the table. “My father? Really?”
Codina shrugged as he pulled Vincen’s chair out for him. “What can I say, my Lord? We are men. The trees, the mountains, el Lago, they call to us. I was but six when I first saw the flames dance upon the waters, and here I am still. Who knows? Perhaps it will be the same with you.”
Vincen sat and nodded his thanks at Codina, who then took the chair to Vincen’s right. Vincen chuckled again as the other guests began to take their seats, still trying to imagine his father abandoning his all-important duties to the Empire just so he could live in the woods for a couple of years. The uniformed officer Codina had been speaking with earlier sat to Vincen’s left, while Garenier and Beltran settled in, followed by Kelso, Nahuel and finally, Ferran and Miquel. As the twins took their places at the end of the table Vincen’s eyes caught a glimpse of a painting he had not noticed before, hanging above the doors he had entered through a few moments ago, and he gasped.
It was a portrait of his mother, sitting on a garden bench that Vincen recognized from their manor outside of Savaria. The garden was in full bloom, and her pale skin and dark brown hair contrasted wonderfully with the vibrant hues of the flowers, grass and sky. Her hands were folded in the lap of her yellow sun dress, and her smile was peaceful as she gazed out of the picture, her eyes full of life and wonder. It had been years since he’d last seen a portrait of her, and he was struck by how beautiful she was.
“He was right,” Rayna said behind him, causing him to jump slightly. He turned and saw that she was staring at the portrait with a small, sad smile.
“Who?” Vincen asked.
“Our father,” she replied, then nodded at the portrait. “He said I looked just like her.”
Vincen nodded. It was true. “I don’t know,” he said, turning back to look at the picture, a smirk forming on his lips. “I still think she’s prettier.”
“That’s just ‘cause you’ve never seen me in a dress,” Rayna muttered, then slowly drifted up and toward the portrait, never taking her eyes off the painting.
Next to him, Codina sighed, following Vincen’s gaze to look at the portrait as well. “She was a beautiful woman, your mother. It is a shame she was taken from us so soon.”
“Did you know her?” Vincen asked, watching as Rayna drew close to the portrait, hesitated, then reached her hand out as if to touch their mother’s face.
Codina shook his head. “Not very well. The Lady Sophia only visited us once, shortly after marrying your father. They were here for two weeks, but I only saw her twice during that time.” He smiled, his eyes distant as if recalling a pleasant memory. Then he turned and looked Vincen over, as if examining a recently completed piece of handiwork. “Nine months later, the two of you were born. This place, el Lago, it is in your blood, I think.”
Vincen sat back as a footman set a plate of food in front of him, looking at Codina contemplatively. Vincen’s father had never spoken much about his mother. Whenever the topic arose Prince Andreu would make a few comments about her kindness or beauty, then shift the conversation to other matters and not bring it up again. It still felt strange, however, that this man whom he barely knew seemed to know more about his mother than Vincen himself.
“Bastard,” Rayna growled from up above, her voice low and angry. Vincen, along with every mage in the room, looked up and saw her there, floating in front of their mother’s portrait, her right hand seeming to cup Lady Sophia’s face. Her left hand was held to her side, clenched in a fist and trembling. She slowly turned and looked at Vincen, her eyes glistening with tears but her jaw clenched tight.
Vincen blinked, stunned quiet for a moment. Whether it was from her language - he had never heard a woman curse like that before - or the rage in her voice, he was not certain. “Excuse me?” he said, slowly standing.
“She knew,” Rayna said, her voice trembling. She blinked and shook her head furiously, the tears dripping from her eyes and fading to dust. “She knew, and so he killed her.”
He stared at her, vaguely aware that the room had gone completely silent. No one spoke, no one moved. She drew a sleeved arm across her eyes, wiping away tears, then met his gaze. He slowly nodded.
Beside him, Codina stood, placing a hand gently on Vincen’s shoulder. “Lord Vincen,” he asked, his raspy voice barely above a whisper. “Is there something wrong?”
“Yes,” Vincen replied, his voice cracking slightly. Everything was wrong. He had no mother, no brother, and the sister he did have was dead, and it was only because of her death that anyone even knew she existed at all. In the air, Rayna folded her arms, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Vincen, yet he knew her anger was not for him. He cleared his throat and looked at Codina. “But it is not your fault,” Vincen said, smiling at the man - a grim smile - and he felt purpose and determination coalesce within himself for the first time since graduating. Perhaps for the first time ever. He had known what he must do since waking up in the infirmary nearly two weeks ago, yet he had found himself torn between his sense of duty as a mage and his father’s expectations of what it meant to be a duke. This, however, went beyond duty, and even honor. This was a matter of family. He reached up and patted the back of Codina’s hand. “There is something I must do, and I will need your help to see it through.”
“As my Lord commands, so shall I do.”
Vincen nodded. “Good, because my sister is right. Gabriel Borden must die.”
End of Chapter Eighteen