by P. S. Power
Which would be fair. They didn't know him after all, and for all the fine words about family, he didn't really expect much from any of them. Even being invited to the meal was kind of a big thing. A nerve wracking one, to be honest. He didn't know the rules for fine dining, but even a kid like him knew that there were rules to it. Petra had suggested that his best bet there, given the time frame, was to copy whatever the Count did, and to simply admit that he was out of his depth. It would make him look poor and perhaps uncultured, but not as much as doing the wrong thing might.
Without stopping to ask if he was the one going to the Count's home, the driver stopped in front of him, and hopped down instantly.
"Prince Dareg?" It was spoken with a refined accent. One that was far smoother and more polished than his own.
"So they tell me. Did you come from the Thomson's?"
The man, who was in blue livery, and wore a clean and tidy black hat, along with long white stockings and funny shoes that had a brass buckle on the front gave a tight smile and clicked his heels together. It looked official, rather than just silly.
"Indeed, sir! If it is to your liking, we could depart? I fear that the streets are rather more full than normal. King's week begins in a few days, so the early arrivals are already beginning to trickle into the city. You know how it is, I'm certain."
Instead of pretend he did, Dare shook his head, but smiled at the man.
"This is my first time here for it. I lived in the County Cannor capital most of my life. Canton? We celebrated the week, naturally, but it will be a treat to see how it's done here." Then, realizing he was being rude to the man, he smiled, going for charming. "Sorry, I didn't get your name?"
The man straightened and clicked his heals a bit again.
"Jameson, sir. This way?"
That got a nod, and he was tucked, without too much force being used, into the back of the very nice wooden carriage. The inside was covered with velvet, and all done in a rich, deep forest green. In the places where it wasn't soft that way, there was polished wood. No interior lights, so as they traveled it got darker inside. It was tempting to stick his head out the open side window, just to take in the sights, but that would probably look a bit funny, so he managed to refrain.
"This time." He muttered that to himself, as he saw the people in the streets. He'd been in the city at night a few times and even had slept there, so he could tell that Jameson was simply correct. Things were getting busier. They even had to stop several times, once for nearly half an hour while an overturned cart of fruit was cleaned up.
Shrugging and realizing that his clothing wasn't going to be messed up from it, or if it was he could fix it with a few thoughts, Dare climbed out and helped the rather flustered man right his small but heavy cart, and then get what vegetation they could salvage back into it.
"Thank you, milord. I don't know what got into Bessy here." That was the gray donkey who was standing there, looking frightened of all the people that were around.
It was simple enough to understand. She looked young, if large enough to do her pulling duties with the tiny cart. She probably just wasn't ready for the streets to be filled with people like that. Rather than yell, or act entitled, Dare picked up a half crushed carrot, and held it out?
"May I have this?" He didn't have any way to buy it, but the man nodded. "Or one of the good ones? I, thank you for the aid, milord."
Shaking his head he approached Bessy.
"Hey girl. Would you like this? I know, this is frightening. All these new people. They're all right though. Then there was that loud noise behind you. That has to be stressful. Here, take this. It's fine." His voice was smooth and soft, which was what you used with animals if you weren't a complete terror in life. It took a few minutes, but while the cart man finished cleaning up, Dare was able to coax the donkey back into the harness, so they could all get underway.
It was kind of clear that Jameson wasn't too happy with the whole event, but he held his tongue and just got the horses going as soon as the road was clear. It had cost them time, but given there was almost nothing they could do about it, everyone would have to be understanding.
It was, in the end, not a real point anyway. They pulled into the gate of the walled compound in the dark, but that would have happened anyway. The whole thing was lit with bright and happy seeming blue lights. Magical ones that you could see by, even without the sun being up. The house itself was large, and old fashioned looking, but grand. It stood up at least three stories, if not four, and before the coach even stopped rolling, three people came from inside.
None of them were familiar to him.
The oldest one, a man, was dressed all in black, and looked to be pushing forty or so. He had a few wrinkles on the edges of his eyes and thinning hair. Next to him were two men, both younger, with white jackets on.
Stepping forward, the man who looked to be in charge opened the door to the coach, and bowed at the same time.
"Prince Dareg." Then a hand was offered to him, to help him out. Not that it was hard to do. He'd replaced his clothing while he rode, and while the whole thing felt a bit heavy, given the warmth of the evening, it wasn't at all bad out.
So he hopped down and bowed back to the man, who gave him a funny look and stood, seeming baffled.
"Hello. Sorry we're a bit late. A cart turned over in the road, so we stopped to help with it." Not that he'd had any choice in stopping. The road had been blocked and they weren't backing up, he didn't think. Not in a coach.
"Very good, sir. This way? Dinner hasn't been served yet, and won't be for some minutes." The man smiled and whispered to him then. "You aren't late. There are several sitting Counts and Countesses in attendance. Just so you aren't taken unaware."
He nodded to the fellow, and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. The Countess had told him it was a small, family meal, but for her, maybe having half the nobles in the Kingdom there counted that way? It wasn't like he could get out of anything now. He turned and waved up at the man who'd gotten him there.
"Thanks ,Jameson."
There was no saying that he was welcome, but the man gave a seated bow, and held it until he did it back. Then the older man ushered him inside.
"I fear that the family has been ambushed by early visitors. It's a King's week tradition, so no one can say much. Not that we would. It isn't what Countess Thomson intended however, sir. I think she fears to give offense, but please believe me that none is intended." The man actually seemed bothered by the idea, so Dare sighed, and tried not to seem too worried himself.
"I don't know the rules here. How to eat properly, or really what to say. I got about an hour's worth of coaching on it earlier, but that's all. So, you have to get me here, I'm going to do the wrong things. I probably can't help it at this point."
That, for some reason seemed to make the gentleman seem happier.
"That won't be an issue. Simply do as your host does, and we, the footmen and myself, will see to the rest. Please don't be offended if we correct you? We'll keep the slapping and pinching to a medium level, I assure you." It was, clearly, the man being cheeky with him.
Dareg smiled, because he could relate to that.
"Do what it takes. I'm not so soft that a few pinches or elbows to the back of my head will make me cry. Not too hard. Just a bit of manly tearing up. You get me."
For some reason the men around him all started to nod then, the main one, who spoke for them stilled at the door and went very proper again.
"We have our instructions, sir. It will not go awry." He seemed certain of it, but that was a lot to ask of the men.
They couldn't control what he was going to say or do, after all. Though, if he caught a few blows to the head for it, he'd pick up on their subtle hints, he bet. Maybe it could work that way?
Inside he was met at the door by a very tall blond man, who was dressed more nicely than anyone he'd ever seen before. From the description it wasn't the level of dress he'd been told about a
t all. The fellow pretended not to notice that part, and simply bowed, which he did back, since this man was obviously a nobleman.
"Thank you for coming to my home, Prince Dareg. I'm Toverland Thomson. My wife asked me to meet you personally. It seems that we have to put on a rather grander show suddenly. I'll understand if you wish to leave, not being allowed proper time to prepare for this." The words, while very polite in tone, held a dismal quality to them at the same time.
The man examined his outfit, and gave a slow nod at it.
"That would have been perfect for the planned meal. Now we're forced to rather gaudier selections. Nothing I have will fit, or I assure you that you could dress in my clothing for this. As family that would be fitting." Taking a deep breath the man looked away. "Really, this is all my fault. I should have turned those others away at the door. They are early, and this is more important by far. I'm stuck now."
Tilting his head, just a bit, Dare closed his eyes. The cut of his outfit wasn't bad, he didn't think. Even Petra had told him it was pushing into much finer wear. So all he really needed was to be more impressive color wise. The man in front of him was in nice clothing, but it didn't gleam like it was on fire or anything, so taking that as a clue, he tried for something a bit different. Brown, but with hints of metallic copper to them. That would let him look refined enough, he hoped. Maybe not, but when he opened his eyes, the Count was staring at him with large blue eyes.
Then he nodded.
"Perfect. Just about right. I wasn't aware you had magical clothing, or the ability to use it so well. Can you make the pattern a bit more brilliant?" The man watched him and after two tries seemed pleased with the whole thing. "Now, maybe a thin piping along the sleeves in a darker metal color?" That took showing him what he meant, but wasn't hard to get done.
In the end the giant smiled.
"Amazing. I should have known that you could pull that sort of thing off, given who you have in your family. Please come this way? Tamerlane is waiting for us."
The Countess was all in blue this time, and the dress was a good bit grander than the doll like thing she'd had on before. There was black lace in places, and the fabric was glossy, reflecting the light nearly as well as his own outfit was. When she saw him, her face went from slightly tense, but smiling, to relaxed and warm almost instantly.
It was clear, to Dare at least, that she was examining him very closely. Her eyes picked apart his outfit, took in the fit and color, and even his hair was observed for flaws. If he was wanting, it didn't seem like it was by more than she was willing to put up with.
"Dareg! You look well presented. I was worried, since plans changed on me, I'm sorry to say. I honestly did have a quiet meal planned, but friends came." Her words were a bit hard around the edges. Especially on the word friends. Her eyes darted, and it was kind of clear that several of the bodies in the room weren't people she was fond of. Also that the order of the day was to lie about it, and get along.
He could do that. After all, unless someone pulled out a truth telling device for party games, his whole plan was to live a giant lie that night already. Doing it while pretending to think people were pleasant and funny wasn't even a change in plans for him. It would just include more people, that was all.
"You look wonderful, as always, Aunt Tamerlane." That, he hoped was about the right speed for things. He'd flattered her, like Petra said he should, but also pointed out that he wasn't going for any naughty family sex. That was mainly for the rest of the room, but most of the night would be, if he understood how things ran. Dare needed to realize that everything he, or anyone else, said that night would be directed toward at least three people. The speaker, their known listener, and the spy.
Sometimes they might all be the same person, so it was a good thing to know about.
It was one of the tips that Petra had given him. As well as the idea that there was no such thing as too much flattery, as long as he was willing to back things up in the bed chamber. Since he was, that part wouldn't be too hard for him.
Looking worried again, his aunt touched his arm gently and held her hand there. Flirting, but the light kind he was supposed to be doing even with her, so everyone knew he liked her. Even if that wasn't true, he was expected to do it. Anything else would be declaring that they were fighting, and worse, doing it in public.
"I didn't tell you that you should bring a date for the evening. We do have an odd woman out, but..." She looked embarrassed, but waved to the side, which got an adorable woman to come over. If they were calling four year olds women that day.
Looking a bit like she'd swallowed a lemon, Tamerlane went a bit still.
"This is Baronetta Four, Dassel. Kenzia Dassel. Kenzia, this man is Prince Dareg Canton, Countier Seven Baker, Countier Thirteen Lairdgren." She seemed pretty tense.
Probably because trying to pass the babysitting of the strange little monster off on some poor innocent young girl was a horrible thing to do to anyone. Smiling, he bowed to the little girl, going low. She did a funny leg thing back. A curtsey.
"I'm delighted to meet you, Baronetta Dassel. Would you do me the honor of attending the meal with me? I should have written ahead and asked. I'll understand if you have something else already planned for the evening?" He was, very nearly, parroting something Petra had said to him, but it seemed like it was working, since the young lady smiled at him. Her hair was a blonde that was so light and curly it almost made a crown on her head.
"That would be most welcome, Prince Dareg. Thank you for the invitation." Her big blue eyes locked with his for a few seconds, then she looked away. "I should go back to my mother. Until we sit?"
He nodded, and let her get away from the strange man. After all, if they were in any normal place someone would be at least talking to him about how one acted with a young lady. Which would be, not at all. Not that he had real designs there.
The Countess smiled, and hid it behind a hand.
"That was perfect! I wasn't certain if you knew about that part of things. Did you learn it in school?"
He smiled and lied a little. It was the plan, after all.
"Private lessons. Taken earlier today. I don't have everything however. What was gone over was mainly how to handle you, so... Well, I made a deal with your servants to beat me into proper behavior. I should have gotten them some pointy sticks so they could prod me, but I didn't think about it in time. I'll try to not dishonor the family name." Not that he was going by that himself, which oddly made him feel better suddenly.
"I'm sorry. You're here however, and family, so do your best. When in doubt, bow low and say pleasant things?"
It had actually been in part of his instructions from Petra. His mother, too, now that he considered it. Of course she'd been talking about meeting with merchants, and fairly low ones, but the idea seemed to carry over into the higher sections of life as well.
They were seated for the meal, after a bit, which meant that one of the men that had met him at the door took Kenzia carefully by the arm, and led them to their seats. They were to sit immediately, at least from what everyone else was doing. As he moved back the footman leaned in and whispered softly.
"Watch the pattern on the standing. Don't do it until after the person next to you does, and copy her." Then he moved back, the lady there clearly having heard the instruction.
She had nice dark skin, which was nearly a deep brown, and large brown eyes. She wasn't a commoner however, which she showed by being rather tall. Easily over six feet high.
Seeing him there, looking she smiled and spoke easily to him.
"Countess Baker. Edith. I fear I don't know you yet? An oversight on my part, I'm certain." She didn't seem very humble about that fact, but it really wasn't her fault, so Dare could see that being the case. Really, it would work for everyone in the building.
Still, the name the lady had given reminded him of something he'd been told.
"Prince Dareg Canton. I believe that I'm also a Countier Baker? The seventh
? I'm," he stopped, took a breath and carried on like it wasn't all just a game someone was playing with him. "Torrance Baker is my father, so it's off-line?" He thought that was how it was said. Basically that should mean that he could use the title legally, without worrying about being hung, but wouldn't get anything else from it. Technically if all the others died first he was in charge there, but that just wasn't going to happen, so it didn't really count for anything.
Then he got ready to explain his lineage, but the lady didn't ask. Instead she patted his arm, warmly, and smiled hugely.
Then spoke to the man, who was dark, about in his late fifties and bald.
"Dear? This is Prince Dareg of Harmony. The one that Terrance communicated about yesterday? One of our Countiers."
If that impressed the man, it was hard to tell, but he was pleasant. Briefly. Then he and his wife went back to speaking to the people on the other side of them. It was kind of a relief. It meant he could just chat with Kenzia, who was being rather roundly ignored by everyone else. Probably because they had nothing in common with a tiny girl.
Not that he did, but she tried really hard to do her part in things, and brought up several interesting topics. Like her favorite kind of cookie, which was lemon walnut, and which dolls were in fashion that season. The thing there was that she knew, and expected, him to not have any information about what toys were popular at the moment. It could have been a bit boring, but it was clear to him that she was well versed in the market for such things.
When the meal started, signaled by the Count standing and taking a single sip from his cup, things got harder. It was clear that he was supposed to do the same, and not until after the lady next to him did so. Waiting, he managed to stand and take his sip, but Kenzia seemed to have nodded off next to him on her turn. Nudging her gently got her into motion. She seemed embarrassed however, and like she might cry. Worse, the adults noticed and several of them smiled.
Normally he would have just eaten their derision. If it had been focused on him, say. Dare also knew that getting into a fight wouldn't be a good plan. The whole death portion of things being a bit much to ask of him over it. Still, he could and did, glare at several of them until they stopped. A large man with a bushy beard who was several places closer to the front of the table gave him a single nod in response. Then, he wasn't one of the people being given the stink eye.
