Looking from her cousins to her uncles, Anice hesitated. When given an encouraging look from her father, she excused herself and then hurried out of the dining hall to catch up with Lessa, though not before sending Alistar a worried glance.
You don’t have to look so guilty, he thought, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline as he anticipated the reason for his uncle’s words. Noticing that his breathing was beginning to pick up, he quelled his mind with silent meditations and sat quietly as the servants began to clear the table.
Antoine had yet to return to his seat, his left hand resting on the pommel of his sword in what was clearly a habitual manner. “Caedmon, let’s retire to your study for a time. There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk about.”
Caedmon nodded, his expression reserved. As he and Daniel stood up in preparation to leave the dining hall, their elder brother cast a cursory glance down the table.
“Alistar, was it? You come along as well.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alder and Mr. Albeck both gave him reassuring looks as he stood up from his seat and made to follow after his uncles. He didn’t miss that the former ran a nervous finger through his thick black hair, which was currently slicked back with grease in its usual fashion.
“Why does he get to go?” grumbled Calum, who seemed to view the invitation as unfair.
“Since when have I needed to explain myself to you?”
The boy crumbled beneath his uncle’s stare, which was as sharp as the blade that hung from his hip.
As Alistar followed his uncles to the manor’s third floor, he could only wonder after his inclusion in the coming discussion. Perhaps Calum and Edmun had gone back on their word and told their father what had happened at the collegia? Daniel hadn’t seemed surprised in the least that Antoine had called out to Alistar, so it was a possibility.
Nobody spoke throughout the walk, their eyes focused straight ahead as they made their way down the modestly-adorned hall that housed Caedmon’s study. Once they arrived outside of said room, an eerie tingle ran down the length of Alistar’s spine as his mind was overtaken by a worrisome thought.
“Come along, now,” said Caedmon, who had just unlocked the door and seen his brothers into the room. He rested a hand on Alistar’s shoulder and gave him a light nudge, the look in his soft, caring gaze assuring that there was nothing to fear.
The room was tidier than usual, with every book in its proper place within the many shelving units that covered most of the wall space. Of the inkwells, quills, parchments, and books that sat atop the desks, everything was arranged in a neat, orderly manner. The usual sprawl of documents and blueprints had seemingly been replaced with random works, for none of the literature on the desktops were topics that Caedmon enjoyed.
Antoine lit the surrounding candles with a thought, making no visible effort to do so. Once the door was shut and a light quiet had set in, the duke turned to his youngest brother and drove straight to the point.
“Caedmon. Is Alistar your son?”
Everybody remained standing.
“When I lost my wife, I vowed never to take another. To this day, I’ve always upheld this vow.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” snapped Daniel, who seemed a bit anxious. “Not taking a wife and not being active in the bedroom are two completely different things.”
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“He isn’t my son.”
The eldest duke directed an uninhibited stare at Alistar, his expression calm and calculative. “Whose bastard is he?”
Alistar subconsciously shrunk beneath the man’s gaze, which seemed to see directly through him to the shelves beyond his back. He had been dreading the possibility of this conversation arising, for things would take a terrible turn if the truth of his lineage came to light.
Caedmon took on a disapproving tone. “I should be asking that of you two.”
Daniel frowned. “How old is he?”
“Fourteen,” lied Caedmon. “His mother was a servant at the celebration that Father held in the capital before Laisha was sent away.”
Antoine and Daniel exchanged frowns. The younger of the two looked at Alistar and spoke in a demanding tone.
“Boy, what did your mother look like?”
Alistar couldn’t help but think of Laisha, of her pretty silver eyes and her gentle, calming smile. Even in destitution, dressed in rags and covered in grime, she had been the prettiest, most inviting person that he had ever met.
Seeing that Alistar’s eyes had subconsciously begun to water, Caedmon interjected with a sympathetic voice.
“He doesn’t remember. She died during childbirth after she returned to Mayhaven, so he was raised by one of her friends until she too passed away from sickness.”
“How did he come to live here?” said Antoine, his tone level. “And when?”
“A former house servant of mine had been friends with his caretaker. She came to me after the other woman passed away and admitted the truth of Alistar’s lineage in the hopes that I would take him in.”
“And you did, just like that?”
“One look at his eyes told me that he wasn’t just anyone’s bastard. I couldn’t just leave him to his fate.” Adopting a melancholic look for effect, Caedmon added, “That was just a month or so after your last visit.”
A heavy quiet set in as the dukes absorbed this new information. Antoine was quite difficult to read, his eyes pensive as he stood there staring at Alistar. Daniel, on the other hand, looked a bit panicked.
“Does Father know?”
“Of course he doesn’t,” said Antoine. “If he did, the boy would have already been summoned to the capital to swear an oath of compulsion. You know how he is. Even the bastards of our family must be bound to him by that blasted curse. With his paranoia, how else would he find sleep at night?”
Alistar kept his mouth shut as his uncles continued to consider him with alternating gazes. Surely they wouldn’t send him off to swear fealty to his grandfather? If they really decided on doing so, then he would have no choice but to flee the county at his earliest convenience lest he lose the autonomy to attempt to rescue his loved ones from Crystellum.
Daniel seemed uneasy, a little frightened even. “If Father finds out that we knew about this and didn’t mention it…”
Antoine held up a hand, silencing his brother. “Firstly, we should stop referring to him for the rest of this discussion. Due to the nature of our compulsions, he’ll become aware that we’re talking about him after a certain point. Secondly, we won’t be telling anybody of this matter. As far as House Silverkin is concerned, this boy doesn’t exist. Are we clear?”
“You’re not serious, Brother.”
“Is there a problem, Daniel?”
“That’s…a Silverkin that hasn’t been branded with compulsion is a serious matter. Keeping such a secret is tantamount to treas—” Daniel began to splutter as he grasped at his throat, the movement of magical energy in the air betraying that he had just been the target of a wind-based spell. Evidently, the flow of fresh air around his mouth and nose had stagnated, preventing him from breathing.
“I think he understands, Antoine.”
Without so much as a change in expression, the eldest duke cancelled out his spell and allowed his brother to catch his breath.
“W—what was that for?” A tremendous amount of swordsman’s aura covered Daniel’s hefty body like a thick cloak, a vein bulging on his forehead as he wheeled on Antoine in anger. “You seem to forget that I’m also a duke and a prince of this kingdom!” The hardwood floor fractured beneath his feet, unable to bear the force of the unseen energy.
“I already told you to mind your words. I’ll not risk a falling out with our house just because you’re too foolish to guard your tongue.”
These words were met with a glare.
“What are you planning, Antoine?” Glancing back and forth between Alistar and the eldest duke, he snapped, “Whatever your reasons for wanting to keep this boy a secret, I want nothing to do with it. Or did you forget what F—what we were told would happen if either of us sired any more bastards?”
“Then I assume you also want nothing to do with the development of the Iron Dungeon?”
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Daniel crossed his arms and took visible effort to calm himself. “When are we going to discuss that, anyway?”
Caedmon looked taken aback. “What’s he talking about, Antoine?”