As Alistar observed the only of his three uncles that he cared about, it became apparent to him that Caedmon’s temper had reached a rare limit. While he would normally deal with any snide or derogatory remarks from his brothers with quick wit and tactful deflections, he now snapped back in tones of increasing exasperation. These responses were entirely aimed at Daniel, who seemed to have a habit of criticising almost anything that Caedmon did or didn’t do. Interestingly enough, Alistar could sense frequent flare-ups of swordsman’s aura from the younger duke whenever Caedmon happened to make a retort or a disapproving comment, which told Alistar two things. The first that was his uncle Daniel had poor control over his temper and thus his swordsman’s aura, and the second was that he had an incredible amount of the unique energy within him.
What had they been talking about before dinner that had left them in such sour spirits? His older uncles, he could understand, but Caedmon?
“What? Nothing else to say?” snapped Daniel, who had just finished the last of his wine. “You’d do well to study up on basic manners the next time you find yourself hosting family.” In a lower voice, he muttered, “What kind of lord doesn’t have a single female servant on the property?”
“I’ll admit,” chimed in Edmun, who was looking at a roasted chicken leg with disapproval. “If this were Calei, I doubt our cooks would serve us such ordinary food. No offence, Uncle.”
Although he said this, Alistar had noticed out of the corner of his eye that the exact type of chicken that the boy was talking about had seemed to be a favourite of his all throughout the meal. As evidence, his plate contained a large pile of chicken bones that had been picked clean in all areas.
“These carrots are too soft,” muttered Calum, looking at his father with a nod. “I prefer when there’s a crunch to them.”
The other brother poked at some leftover broccoli. “And these vegies are too hard. Softer ones are much more enjoyable.”
“I can boil them if you like,” offered Mr. Albeck, rolling up one of his long, drooping sleeves as if to follow up on his words. “It’ll only take a moment.”
The boy rolled his eyes and proceeded to finish off the rest of his broccoli.
Anice had on an intense frown as she stared down at her mug of milk, earning Alistar’s sympathy. He was also quite angry at the blatant disrespect that was being directed toward Caedmon and wanted nothing more than to speak out in his defence, though he knew better than to insert himself into the situation. Back in Crystellum, giving a guard an angry stare had been akin to begging for a beating, not to mention all of the other looks and expressions that would have earned a slave ill treatment. Years of harbouring anger in the face of unfairness had hardened Alistar’s ability to suppress such reactions, a quality that was rare in others his age.
Seeing Anice’s conflicted expression, Alistar picked up a clean fork and then helped himself to the apple pie that she had been ignoring for the past five minutes.
“Hey, that was the best part!”
Hearing her harsh whisper, he lowered his voice to match. “Why take the last slice if you’re just going to stare at it?”
Anice shielded her plate with an arm and then guzzled down the dessert in an unseemly manner. “I was saving it for later, but you made me eat it now.”
“I didn’t make you do anything.”
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Aided by a sudden awareness, she cleared her throat and dabbed at her mouth with a silk napkin in a dignified manner, drawing a quiet giggle from Lessa. As always, the three of them relied on one another to distract from the discomfort that had come to characterize their mealtimes in recent days. They talked for a time, voices low amidst a chorus of clattering cutlery.
Despite ordering a servant to pile more chicken and veggies onto their plates, Calum and Edmun continued to gripe about the food. When this went on for several minutes, Mr. Albeck chastised them with a light remark that drew an odd sense of ire from the eldest of Caedmon’s brothers.
“It’s not your place to educate my nephews, Jin. You gave up that right when you left my court.”
“Forgive me, Your Excellency. I’ve been an educator for quite some time now, and I can’t help but correct poor manners when I see them.”
Antoine put down his utensils and silenced the magus with a hard stare that abruptly quieted the table, a rough hand subconsciously falling to rest on the hilt of his scabbarded sword. Johan and Priscilla put a hushed conversation on hold as the latter’s family ended their idle chatter with Alder, all of whom had been making an effort to ignore the complaints of Daniel and his boys as had been necessary on many occasions throughout the week.
It wasn’t long before Caedmon excused himself and left for the privy, effectively silencing Daniel’s grievances. Doing so enabled everyone to return to their former conversations, which helped a fair bit in repairing the mood, or at least would have if Antoine hadn’t continued to stare at his former court magus with stern eyes of startling silver. Only once Caedmon returned did the duke finally seem to let things go, wiping his hands with a napkin and then helping himself to some wine.
“Apologies,” said Caedmon as he took a seat with a more collected expression. “Antoine, what time do you plan to set off tomorrow?”
“Early.”
“Two or so hours after sunrise, Uncle.”
Antoine cast a momentary glance at his son, his expression unchanging as he added, “Daniel and the boys will be setting off with us, so rest assured that you’ll be rid of him soon.”
“You act like I’m a nuisance.”
“You’re quite annoying, actually. Both of you prattling on like that, it’s unsightly.”
Daniel scoffed and begrudgingly returned his attention to his cup. Seeing that it was empty, he snapped at a flustered Jean to refill it with wine from the jug in front of him and reprimanded the man for not having done so the moment that the cup had been emptied.
“If Father’s taught us anything, it’s that a true warrior always keeps a calm heart. Even after all these years, you two still seem unable to uphold the value. It truly is a pity.”
Daniel narrowed his eyes, though silenced himself with a sip of wine.
Caedmon, on the other hand, met Antoine’s gaze with a staunch one of his own. “I’ve never claimed to be a warrior, Brother. I simply don’t see any point in making such minor complaints, for as you’ve said, they’re quite annoying.”
Antoine gave a dismissive shrug that accentuated the broadness of his shoulders. “We’ll be retiring early tonight in light of tomorrow’s journey, so it won’t do us any good to keep bickering back and forth. We have much to discuss, after all.” Standing, he spread his arms in open address to the table. “On that note, we’ll be ending the meal early so that we brothers can talk about some important family matters.” Turning to Lessa’s parents, he gave them the slightest of bows. “Eustus, Katrin, we thank you for spending so much of your week in our company. It’s always nice to see other members of the clan, especially those we don’t often see.”
There was a brief pause as everyone acknowledged the duke’s intent, a quiet that was broken by the Silvus couple who recovered after appearing slightly taken aback.
“The pleasure was all ours, Your Excellency.” Eustus stood up and adjusted the collar of his shirt, his wife and daughters following him to his feet. Giving a deep bow, the baron spoke in an amiable manner as he looked from one duke to the other with practiced grace. “The next time we find ourselves in Vern or Calis, we’ll be sure to pay our respects with a visit. If you’ll have us, that is.”
“Of course,” smiled Antoine, who waited patiently as Eustus and Katrin gave formal farewells to everyone else at the table as was customary.
“Johan, go and see them off.”
The young man acknowledged his father’s words with a nod and then left the room with the Silvus family, keeping particularly close to Priscilla.
Caedmon gave his daughter an encouraging smile. “Anice, why don’t you and Alistar go as well?”
“No,” said Antoine, his tone flat and foreboding, “the boy stays.”