AO 7 Ch 8 (Patreon)

"To think he had the gall to do something like that and invite Bianca to the family dinner," I grumbled into my cup, happy that my ladies were sticking with me even if I was in a poor mood.

"Well, I doubt he'll do that again," Emlyn offered, reaching out and sliding my ale a little bit further away from me. 

"Hey, I'm not that bad," I said defensively, subtly assessing my own level of drunkness. 

"Not yet," Emlyn smirked. "And I prefer we don't get there." 

"Fine," I grumbled and reached for the cup again. "I'll just make this one last, happy?" 

"Very. If you do any more than that, I'm going to have Maribelle cleanse it from your system," Emlyn warned. 

I grunted, not even sure she could really do that, but also not wanting to find out.

"We'll save that option for when we need it. Why are you not mad? You should be mad with me.” I told her, letting my gaze cast over the other women at the table.

We were attracting a fair number of stares, which was only expected. They were all dressed for a nice dinner with my family, looking ravishing enough to drive a blind man mad. 

"By the way, you're all beautiful," I said, smiling as my mind shifted away from whatever we had been discussing. 

"Ah, maybe he's coming out of it," Missy said. 

"I'm sorry if I ruined your night," I apologized. The girls would have loved dressing up and flirting over dinner.

"Nothing's been ruined," Ditzy waved a hand dismissively. "Your grandfather pulled a shitty trick on you. I've seen a thousand times worse. But regardless of scale, it's still understandable that you're upset.”

“I appreciate the support, Ditzy. Though I know that was a rough situation for both Bianca and the rest of my family. It’s just… I needed to put my foot down." 

"I heard…" Ditzy said, waving her fork back and forth indecisively. "that you and Bianca had a history." 

"Brief," I clarified. "And it became abundantly clear that Bianca was little more than the shadow of her brother, working expressly on his interests, and very little for herself." 

"Harsh," Missy said.

"Sometimes the truth is harsh." I said, wincing at that particular tone.

“So you are done with her. That much is clear," Bad Kitty said. "So now what?" 

"What do you mean?" I took a sip and looked at the goddess. 

"I mean, quite literally that. Now what? So you've reacted to your grandfather and you've slapped his hand away, saying that he shouldn't meddle in your affairs. That's fine," Bad Kitty leaned back. "But if you don't close off other routes, he's just going to try again." 

I frowned, not entirely understanding and suddenly wondering if I was more drunk than I realized. But ultimately my curiosity got the best of me and I asked anyway. "What do you mean, close off other routes?" 

"Do you think you can slap his hand away and then suddenly sit down and think he's not going to try anything else?" Bad Kitty asked me.

"Well," I started to say some empty threat before realizing how hollow the statement would be. "Okay, I'm listening, Bad Kitty. What should I do?"

"Well, first off, you shouldn't cut all communication off. It's only going to cause him to try more extreme measures that will catch you by surprise." She told me. “By allowing his communication you can still assert control and might get some forewarning.” 

"Okay, that makes sense," I nodded along, realizing this was probably also why you should keep your enemies close. "Not to mention, I don't want to completely freeze out my own family. I'm not that cold."

"That's a relief," Missy said. "It would be a shame to try and abandon them completely over something silly like this."

"I wouldn't call it silly," I glared at Missy.

"Sorry, not silly," she corrected herself. "Would childish work?"

"Nope." I said. "Who else has ideas?" I turned to the rest of the group.

"She's not entirely wrong, Ard," Emlyn hedged, and the glare I gave her wasn't entirely fair. But then again, I wasn't in the most fair of moods.

"I'll promise not to make a decision right now if we can move on from this." I grumbled.

"Moving on sounds great. Sadly I’m not sure what you are moving on from," my mother rolled up to our group. "I'm glad to see you are all taking the appropriate measures to look like a spoiled, upset noble."

"Mother," I sighed, and turned to face her properly. "I don't suppose you brought Bianca with you, perhaps bringing her to a random tavern and locking us in a room that'd probably suit grandfather's purposes wonderfully." I was perhaps a touch upset, and my mother so kindly responded with a heavy sigh.

"Ard, I know you haven't been a noble for very long, and perhaps you have zero desire to even be one. However," she spoke with a fierce look in her eyes, "right now you are one, and I would ask you comport yourself, no, I would beg that you comport yourself with the respect that everyone expects from you."

"Well, who told anyone to expect anything from me?" I growled back at her. This was admittedly me being childish. Yet I didn't go through so much in my short time as a mage to be controlled by my family.

My mother must have seen the tension in my eyes, because she held her hands up in surrender. "I didn't come here out of any other motives than to inform you that your grandfather is furious, and that as your mother, I should give you at least a passing lesson."

"And what would that be?" I did my best to not scowl at her.

"That you can't fight your family on top of other battles. Multi-front wars are rarely advised." She told me. “Not to mention we are your biggest support even if you don’t like it.”

"Second, proper and formal communication is expected of you." She instructed with her hands laced in her lap and ice blue eyes boring into me.

I narrowed my eyes. "What does that mean?" 

"It means if you wanted fanfare this morning, you should have sent a letter ahead in advance. If you wanted to avoid all of the trouble of the succession, perhaps you could have contacted me or your grandfather in advance to give your perspective. Formal communication sent ahead of you to set expectations prior to your arrival.” She enunciated each word. “Honestly, Ard, this is basic shit and I shouldn't be having to explain this to you now." My mother told me.

I glared at her, wanting to argue, but I found that I had uncomfortably little ground to stand on. "And what exactly should I do, Mother, now that I am here and I believe some ships have sailed?" I grumbled.

"Well now, that's up to you, isn't it?" my mother said with a saccharine sweet smile and stood. "Now you all will make sure that he doesn't get too drunk and returns to the estate to sleep. The last thing I need is for one of the other houses to get stupid ideas with him staying out at a tavern." She looked over my anchors, her eyes landing on Emlyn for an extra long moment.

"Don't worry, we will do our best to keep him out of trouble," Emlyn promised. 

"And if trouble finds me?" I asked. 

"Then we're shit out of luck, aren't we?" Emlyn pinched her eyes together as she smiled too much. 

"Somehow you don't seem too upset about that fact," my mother said dryly. "Just bring him back in one piece. I will try and settle my father. When you do return, Ard, please don't continue to needle him. The two of you waging a silent war in our house is the last thing we need as a family. While you may not want any role within the royal family and the kingdom at large, I can tell you as the matriarch of the family, there are plenty in House Aldis that would kill for such an opportunity. And I mean that quite sincerely. House Aldis will attempt to take the crown, because conceding it is tantamount to suicide. Considering the stage that has been set, your mere presence in the house means that we will always be a threat to whoever takes it. Do you understand, Ard?"

I grumbled and refused to give a clear answer. It wasn’t like I asked for this.

My mother leaned forward. "Because of you, every other house not firmly allied with us will try and destroy House Aldis simply because a bunch of old men are terrified of you." Her icy blue eyes delivered a stabbing glare straight to my soul.

If I didn't know better, I would think She was trying to use soul magic to attack me. But in this situation, my mother’s truth and anger was simply raging through her eyes.

"If you have no desire for the crown, then the least you can do is not make it worse for House Aldis. Given everything we have provided you since you've returned to us, I ask that you at least pay this back in return."

I hated the idea of paying it back. I had seen from several other mages the concept that they owed their family, in some cases, quite literally, with their life and happiness. I wanted to stamp my foot, but that was not going to help the accusation of being childish.

Which I wasn’t, normally, tonight was just… not great timing.

“Am I supposed to be a big bad threat that all the other houses are scared to hit our house, or am I supposed to be a tame little kitten that no one should fear?” Rather than argue, I tried to understand.

“In my opinion, the latter has already sailed. Enough people saw you fight with the King of Avente that trying to appear harmless would do nothing but arouse suspicions.” She tutted.

“She’s right.” Emlyn said and I was going to make her pay for that one later.

"No, Ard, I think the safer option is for you to bare your fangs, but you should bare your fangs once or twice, with very reasonable justification," my mother sighed and closed her eyes. "What I would like, if at all possible, is for everyone in the kingdom to see you as a sane, reasonable, but incredibly powerful mage. One that is disinterested in the crown, however, would crush another if your family was in danger."

Specific, but I could work with that.

I rubbed my chin as Sienna put a hand on my arm. "Since I will be staying here, if you can manage to do as she says, it will be a great protection for me." Sienna looked me in the eyes and it did something.

I let out a heavy sigh and turned back to my mother. "Fine. I will try and appear reasonable, but powerful. Actually, if I come off a little crazy, maybe that would be best?" I tried, only for my mother to slowly shake her head. 

"If we're honest, crazy is a lot easier for him than sane. I think sane might even be too tall of an ask," Emlyn said with a massive smirk. 

"What are you trying to say, Emlyn?" I asked.

"I'm just saying I don't think you could act sane for your entire time here." Emlyn replied.

"Well, I'll show you," I said, suddenly squinting. "Fuck."

Emlyn burst out laughing, as did the rest at the table. 

"No more women, though, mom. Can we at least agree on that? That means no shoving Bianca in my face, some other princess, or other houses for allegiance," I pointed at those around the table. "We're stopping at this. And besides, I think we're going to go on another trip here soon, so I just need to be sane for a couple more days. Certainly not long enough to start anything new." 

My mother smiled. "Really, only two more days, because with the expected end of the war. Also missives went out, to reduce those stationed on the war front and send them back home with the hope of sparking this summer's crop yield before it's too late, there's going to be a ball held in the royal palace. After that, you're welcome to do whatever you wish as long as it's not in the Capital." 

I rubbed my chin and leaned back. "One last ball, eh? Yeah, I think I can manage." 

Emlyn, however, had her head in her hands. "You want him to act sane, and then you tell him to go to a ball? This isn't going to end well," Emlyn muttered. 

"What do you mean?" I huffed. "We all are going to get ready and make sure we look fabulous for this. Who knows what kind of new fashion I might introduce?" I grinned, already imagining the changes that would come.