They finished breakfast, passing Andres and Lola on their way out. Andres and Lola didn’t so much as look at them as they left. Indenuel braced himself for another bill to be sent, but he was glad they were leaving for the day. He couldn’t think of a better outcome. Them being here was a constant reminder of who he had once been in Mountain Pass. He was a different man now. Respected. Revered. To have them here was a reminder he had not been treated kindly by ignorant people, and these ignorant people would still treat him unfairly. For today, at least, he wouldn’t have to bother being around them.
The twins had a harder time choosing a room than Matteo did. He waited patiently in his own while the twins fought over which one. Despite Indenuel suggesting they could both have different rooms if they wanted, they finally settled on a different room for them both to share.
Before long they climbed into the carriage and were on their way. The girls kept chattering to Tolomon, who did his best to listen to them both. Matteo, as always, was quietly beside Indenuel.
They arrived at Martin’s house and got out.
“This house is even bigger than yours!” Isla said.
“Oh, no doubt,” Indenuel said as they walked toward it. Derio opened the front door and Sara was there to greet them.
“Well, hello! Welcome to my home,” Sara said.
Isla and Emilia ran up to her.
“I’m Emilia!”
“I’m Isla!”
“I have a dimple on my chin when I smile. That’s how you can tell I’m Emilia!”
Isla held up five fingers. “I’m five!”
Emilia also held up five fingers. “I’m five too!”
Sara’s eyes brightened as she touched her chin. “Aren’t you two absolutely precious! You must come meet my grandchildren! My daughters will be over soon, and they have children just your age.”
“You have grandchildren?” Emilia asked.
“Does that mean your old?” Isla asked.
“Isla,” Indenuel said quietly.
She gasped, hands over her ears. “Sorry! Was that a bad thing to say?”
Sara laughed. There was a grandmotherly glow about her. “Absolutely not. I am quite old, old enough to know when little girls need something sweet to eat. Would you like a little treat?”
“Yes! Yes! Oh yes!” Emilia shrieked.
“Thank you, Sara. Matteo? Do you want to go with them?” Indenuel turned his head and realized the boy was literally hiding right behind him.
“There’s another one?” Sara asked, sounding more excited than anything to discover she would be taking care of another child.
Indenuel reached behind him and grabbed Matteo’s arm, pulling him out. Matteo resisted as Indenuel eased him forward. Sara’s eyes softened. “Well, look at this fine young man! Look at you! You must be so cold without an ounce of meat on your bones!” Sara asked, ushering Matteo forward. He stood still, staring at Sara.
“She says that a lot,” Indenuel said, giving him the needed push toward Sara.
“Indenuel fed us breakfast before we came!” Isla said.
“Matteo had two whole plates!” Emilia said.
“Boys this age grow like weeds and always need something in their bellies. Are you still hungry Matteo?” Sara asked. He nodded sheepishly. “Just what I thought. Come into the kitchens. I’ll get you some more food.”
“Thank you again, Sara,” Indenuel said.
“An honor, Indenuel,” she said, ushering the children inside.
“I’ll pick them up once I’m done with training,” Indenuel said.
“Plan on having lunch at my home! We will make a party of it! You can get to know my two daughters! It will be wonderful.”
“Oh, thank you,” Indenuel said, mentally preparing to eat at Sara’s. “I will enjoy that.”
Indenuel waved. Matteo waved back, but Isla and Emilia already disappeared into the house. Indenuel and Tolomon climbed back into the carriage. Tolomon closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the carriage.
“Tired?” Indenuel asked.
“Simply making sure we don’t have another attack.”
He was confused, until he saw Tolomon’s hand on the hilt of his sword. “Do you think they’ll try and attack again?”
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I always assume you’re in danger. That’s what keeps you alive,” Tolomon said.
***
Martin was in the reading room by the High Elder’s library when there was a knock on the door. “Adosina to see you, sir,” one of the guards said from the other side of the door.
He closed his book. “Alright.” He replaced the book in the library before walking out of the room and up the spiral staircase to where he saw his youngest daughter waiting by the door of his study. “This is a pleasant surprise.” He opened the door, ushering her inside.
“Hello, Father. I had a question for you. Something I’ve been meaning to ask since Sabbath.”
He gave her a concerned yet curious look. She hadn’t asked while he was at home, so he couldn’t be sure what to prepare for as he sat down behind his desk.
She sat on the chair in front of the desk. “Is there another reason why you don’t want me to be in the lower class? You’ve met with them, you’ve helped them, you’ve done a lot with them. What is it you see that I don’t?”
Martin sighed as he situated himself on his chair. “I don’t quite understand the question.”
“I believe I could be very happy with Elias. But I’ve had experiences now, with Indenuel, with Inessa, who both make it seem like I should be far more terrified of being in a poorer class than I should. What is it?”
Martin frowned. “Because it’s hard. You are far too used to a life of luxury that I am too afraid it would be a miserable existence for you.”
“Because of a lack of luxury?” Adosina asked.
“Exactly.”
“And not because of an inherit belief the poorer class should be treated inhumanely?”
Martin raised an eyebrow. “Adosina-”
“Indenuel, Inessa, they act like they’ve survived the most horrendous abuse and have been ‘saved’ by the upper class. Are you terrified of taking away my titles because I, too, might suffer this same abuse?”
“That is… a dramatic way of thinking about it,” Martin said. “I do not wish to take away your titles because it is something you cannot come back from. This would be your life. Forever.”
“I’m quite aware. It is marriage, after all.”
“I simply don’t want to see you throw your life away.”
She stared at him long and hard. “Would you treat me differently if I was in the lower class?”
His eyes widened. “Why would you think that?”
“Answer the question.” There was a distinct lack of humor in her voice.
Martin watched her, saw the stubbornness, saw the anger he needed to avoid to keep this conversation civil. “Of course not, Addy. I try to be approachable myself by asking people to ignore my titles. I help the poor. I frequently go on relief missions to those towns outside the city. I have nothing but love for the poor class.”
“And yet you still recoil at the thought of me being a part of it,” Adosina said. “No matter how much you love them, no matter how much you want to help them, you always keep them on their side.”
“Not true,” Martin said. “I would like to help them get to a better place.”
“Better place meaning a place in life, wealth, titles. You’d rather they become more like us,” Adosina said.
Martin’s anger began to surge. He kept his smile tight. “That isn’t what I meant.”
“If all the farmers became noblemen as well, who would there be left to sow the fields? I’m not saying you assume you are better than them because of your wealth, Father, but I am saying it is ridiculous we don’t think of the farmers as important as the nobleman. I don’t see why letting me marry a farmer is seen as a sin among you High Elders.”
“Addy, we’ve had enough of this conversation.”
“Because I’m right?”
Martin’s jaw was set. “Because I don’t want you to start yelling and screaming in the sacred Cathedral. We will continue this conversation when we’re at home.”
Adosina shook her head, standing up and heading for the door. “No, we won’t. Because you’ll find some other reason to stop the conversation. Like how you’re too tired. Or don’t want to talk politics. Or that I’m just a silly woman who can’t understand it all.”
“You are not helping your case,” Martin said through gritted teeth.
She got up and left, slamming the door, and he rubbed his forehead. He was going to have to pull Ana aside and ask her to keep the conversations light at dinner time. There was no way he could avoid this entirely. With wintertime coming, Adosina was using this time to build her case for the Day of Beseeching that happened the first week of spring. The only day she was allowed to formerly request her titles be revoked. He would simply have to get used to her asking more questions of this kind. Adosina was already preparing, which means he was behind. They would be having quite the verbal quarrel come springtime.
***
It had been a long day. Fadrique had brought in a whole crowd of people, trying to teach Indenuel how to rely on others in order to help the gift along. Indenuel didn’t mind it. It was better than being alone with him.
And, as he feared, Sara did not stop feeding Indenuel until he was in pain. When Sara asked if Matteo was full, he gave a nod, surprised at this revelation himself, and she simply beamed with pride as she patted his cheek.
They returned to Indenuel’s home before dinner, and none of them ate anything until well into the evening. They played in the garden in the remaining light of the setting sun. Isla, Emilia, and Indenuel ran around, trying to catch the bugs flying while Matteo watched. It was almost, almost, like they were back home, and it reminded him that he needed to talk to Martin about keeping the children with him. But for now, they would play in the ridiculously large house that one day they would live in.
Once it got dark, Indenuel ushered them inside to get ready for bed. Matteo left for his own room, and the girls followed some female servants to their own. Indenuel lingered by the hallway leading to the guest rooms when Pablo walked over and spotted him, looking like he needed to say something. Indenuel walked over to him, farther away from the guest rooms.
“Is everything alright?” Indenuel asked.
“Andres and Lola still haven’t returned,” Pablo said.
“They did say they would be out all day. Is there any concern?”
“According to a tree talker among the staff, they are wandering around the city. Though they are getting a bit drunk. They have a carriage, should they wish to use it.”
Indenuel looked outside the window at the vast city. He should care, but honestly, he didn’t. He didn’t mind if he never saw them again this entire holiday.
“Everything is in order for tomorrow. We will have some female servants get the twins ready for breakfast. It was harder to understand what Matteo needed, as he seems to have dismissed his male servants,” Pablo said.
A frown pulled at Indenuel’s lips. “Did he say why?”
Pablo looked confused. “Does the boy speak, sir?”
Indenuel turned, confusion of his own. “Sorry?”
“Forgive my imprudence. Sometimes children who grew up in the rough country don’t learn to talk.”
Indenuel continued to stare at Pablo. “He can talk.”
He bowed. “Forgive me, sir. I meant no offense.”
Indenuel clawed his memory for any words he heard Matteo tell him when he arrived in the city. He only said a few words at breakfast, and even fewer at Martin’s, but most of his communication was nodding or shaking his head. Matteo hadn’t spoken to him, just remained quiet by his side. It stirred a memory. The first time he met Matteo, everyone assumed he was mute because his father beat the ability to talk out of him.