Chapter 24: The Grand Duke Receives Unwanted Guests (2)

Spiro sat on the smaller chair beside my desk, posture stiff but face composed. He looked too well-behaved. I did not like that kind of tense atmosphere around him just because of these kinds of people.

"Konstantin blood has always been distinctive," I said.

The countess smiled. "Indeed. One cannot mistake it."

"One cannot unless they lack even the most basic of discernment."

Silence. She clearly wanted more. And I clearly did not intend to give it.

A wise guest would retreat. Unfortunately, she was far from being wise.

"May I ask if the Young Master will be presented formally during the founding festivities?"

"No. There is no need."

Her fan paused. "No?"

"He is but a child still, Countess. Not a rare artifact to be displayed beneath chandelier light for people to ogle."

The countess’s smile froze.

Abi, seated near the window with the manner of someone pretending not to enjoy himself, hid his mouth behind his hand.

Spiro looked down at his lap, but I noticed the tips of his ears reddening.

The countess recovered with admirable speed. "Of course, Your Excellency. I merely meant that society would be delighted to welcome him."

"Society can wait."

"Naturally."

She left shortly after. Good. One less petal in this cursed blooming garden.

The next callers were worse.

Two barons wanted to discuss trade possibilities, which was a polite way of asking whether they could attach their dying businesses to Sonomi’s wealth like leeches with crests. I allowed them seven minutes each. Enough to preserve my etiquette but not enough to give them hope.

Then came a representative from the temple.

It wasn’t a high-ranking priest. They were not bold enough to send someone too important without first knowing my stance. Bunch of cowards that they are. Instead, they sent a soft-spoken cleric with gentle eyes and a smile that had been polished by years of asking for donations.

"Your Excellency, the temple rejoices in your safe arrival to the Capital," he said.

"How kind of you."

"His Eminence hopes House Konstantin might attend the blessing ceremony before the coronation."

"We will consider it."

"Of course. The blessings of the divine are especially meaningful during times of transition."

"Are they really?"

The cleric blinked.

I smiled.

He smiled back, but his became notably weaker.

"Naturally, Your Excellency."

"I see."

I had nothing against divinity in theory. It was organized holiness that bothered me.

Temples had a peculiar talent for turning faith into bureaucracy and compassion into ceremonial performance. Add wealth to the mixture and it became a banquet table where piety was carved and served to whoever paid enough.

Sonomi had shrines, yes. Temples too. But they knew their place. Sonomi might actually be the only place to have temples that stuck to the doctrine faithfully. After all, no matter how much they proclaim their beliefs, they don’t actually want to meet the object of their faith early.

The desert did not take kindly to arrogance, even if it came wearing white robes and the claims of the divine.

The cleric’s gaze drifted toward Spiro. "And this must be the Young Master. May light and grace follow your path, child."

Spiro looked to me first.

Good boy.

I gave a faint nod.

He stood and bowed politely. "Thank you, sir."

The cleric’s eyes sharpened minutely at his manners. "Such excellent bearing."

"Naturally," I said. "He is my son."

The cleric wisely did not ask more. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

Perhaps the temple still had some intelligence left in them.

When he left, Abi hummed. "That one smelled different."

I glanced at him. "Different? How?"

"Like stale incense and decaying wood."

That was strangely specific.

"Explain."

Abi frowned slightly. "There was something on him. Not really energy. It’s more like residue. I have smelled something similar before, but I cannot recall where. Maybe it was something I encountered during my time with other masters."

A Jinn who had lived for centuries failing to recall something was not ideal. It meant it was either truly insignificant or so old that memory itself had gathered dust around it.

Neither of these possibilities comforted me.

"Keep that in mind."

"I always keep interesting things in mind, anyway."

"Then why do you forget basic manners?"

"Those are not interesting."

Spiro made a tiny sound that might have been a laugh.

I pretended not to hear it again.

By the time Marquess Veyron arrived, my patience was already lying face-down in a ditch.

The Marquess entered with his usual polished smile, dressed in deep green velvet and enough jewels to suggest he either wished to impress me or blind me. Sadly for him, both attempts failed.

"Your Excellency," he greeted, bowing elegantly. "Thank you for receiving me on such short notice."

"I was told you wished to offer greetings."

"Indeed. The Capital has brightened with your arrival."

"Then I fear the Capital had poor lighting before."

His smile twitched.

Abi looked delighted. Thank goodness, he stopped at that.

Marquess Veyron’s gaze slid toward Spiro.

"And this must be the Young Master everyone speaks of."

Spiro stood and bowed as he had been taught. "Good morning, Marquess."

"My, such poise. House Konstantin raises its heirs well."

"He has been my son for only a short while," I said calmly. "His good qualities are mostly his own."

Spiro turned red.

The Marquess paused, likely not expecting me to say something that could be interpreted as affectionate.

Hah. That made two of us.

I had not expected it either.

Still, it was true. Spiro’s manners were too ingrained to have been taught by us recently. The orphanage from his story most certainly did not teach such bearing. Neither would slave traders. Which meant there was still a missing portion in his supposed origins.

A very large one. But that was a concern for later.

Marquess Veyron sat when invited and accepted tea with a smoothness that irritated me. There were men who held cups like utensils. There were men who held cups like weapons. Veyron held his like a shield.

A cowardly skill, but not entirely useless. It was irritating, nonetheless. He truly was like an oily eel.

"I hope the ball was enjoyable for you, Your Excellency," he began.

"It was survivable."

"Ha. Your Excellency’s humor remains unmatched."

I was not joking, though.

"I heard His Highness had the honor of speaking with you privately."

Wow. He couldn’t wait even for five minutes.

The man truly had the patience of a starving mosquito.

"He did."

"How wonderful. His Highness is most diligent in greeting important guests."

"Is he?"

"Of course. With the coronation approaching, unity among the great houses is of utmost importance."

"Unity is such a charming word. People enjoy using it when they, in fact, mean obedience."

Veyron’s smile froze for a fraction.

"Surely not in this case, Your Excellency."

"Surely," I echoed.

Abi took a sip of tea to hide his expression.

The man did not even need to drink, yet he had already developed a talent for using cups as theatrical props.

Veyron recovered quickly, as expected of a professional survivor.

"His Highness has many admirable qualities. Though he is still young, he possesses a sincere heart."

"How alarming that is."

"Your Excellency?"

"Sincerity is easily exploited in court."

"Ah. Yes, I suppose that is true." Veyron’s gaze sharpened faintly. "That is why guidance from experienced figures would be invaluable."

"And you believe I am experienced?"

"Naturally. House Konstantin has endured longer than most powers on the continent."

"Endurance is not the same as interest, Marquess."

His smile thinned. The room quieted.

Spiro watched us with wide eyes, though his expression remained controlled. He seemed to be studying not merely the words but the currents beneath them.

Abi noticed too. His gaze flicked from Spiro to me, bright with something I refused to address.

Veyron set his cup down. "Of course. I would never presume to speak for Sonomi’s intentions."

"At least you’re wise in that sense."

"But if the East were to take an interest in imperial stability, many would be reassured."

I smiled.

"Marquess, if the East takes an interest, reassurance is far from the emotion most people should feel."

A delicate silence followed.

Veyron looked at me Then he laughed, as if I had said something witty instead of something perfectly factual.

"Your Excellency’s presence is truly bracing."

"And yours is persistent."

"One must be, in the Capital."

"How exhausting. I pity you."

"At times. Only at times."

I had to admit, Veyron had some skill. He did not push too far after that, retreating into safer topics such as trade routes, the quality of wine at the palace, and the public excitement for the archive exhibition.

The invitation from the Crown Prince was for this afternoon, and the whole Capital had already begun pretending not to know that.

"His Highness seems particularly invested in the historical exhibition lately," Veyron remarked. "A thoughtful choice, especially with Your Excellency present."

"It is."

"Your interest in history is well known."

"Among people who pay attention."

His gaze flickered.

Ah. So he knew that much.

Not surprising. My past life had made me an archeologist and a professor. This life had given me access to one of the oldest family archives in the continent. Naturally, my fondness for old things had become known in certain circles.

Antiques, ruins, languages, records, relics.

And now, the Crown Prince had dangled imperial archives in front of me.

Such a well-chosen bait. It would be an offense, if I didn’t take it.

Veyron finally left after accomplishing very little beyond confirming that I was not inclined to declare support for the Crown Prince over tea. He had also confirmed that Spiro existed, that Abi was strange, and I remained difficult.

In short, he learned what everyone already knew.

What a productive visit.

After the last caller was dismissed, I leaned back and let out a sigh.

"Human society is so tedious."

Abi laughed. "You handled them well."

"I handled them because murder would create unnecessary paperwork. I’d rather spare myself the effort."

Spiro looked at me.

I coughed lightly. "That was only an exaggeration."

Was it?

Hmm.

Better not examine it.

"Father," Spiro said carefully.

"Yes?"

"Do nobles always talk like that?"

"Like what?"

"As if they are asking one thing but wanting another."

I paused.

William looked toward him.

Abi’s expression turned sharper with interest.

I regarded the child for a moment. He sat small and neat in his chair, book resting on his lap, amber eyes too clear for someone who should be fussing over sweets and toys at his age.

"Often," I answered. "In the Capital, words wear clothes, oftentimes pretty ones. You must learn to see what stands underneath. If it is a dagger or a sweet."

Spiro nodded slowly. "Marquess Veyron wanted to know if you will help the Crown Prince."

"He did."

"The temple man wanted to see if you would bring me to the blessing ceremony."

"That is correct."

"The countess wanted to know who my mother is."