WW Chapter 84: Questions Asked (Patreon)

Even as several of his friends badgered him for an opportunity to read the letter, Ezra waved them all off as he quickly finished his meal. A part of him wanted to read the note as soon as possible, but he decided against wandering around the garrison while trying to read. Regardless of these weeks he had spent as Adonis’s new guard and how three nights a week that became all sorts of teaching about politics, math, history, and more, Ezra couldn’t say he was a particularly confident reader just yet.

The thought of somehow damaging the letter because he was too impatient to wait a few hours until he was alone in his room was embarrassing.

So, with the letter burning like Telemachus’s aura in his pocket, Ezra made his way down the stairs and into the corridor that led between the garrison and the Duke’s manor. By now, he made the trip twice a day for nearly two months, and the path was a familiar one. What was a surprise, though, was the presence of a visitor when he got down to the entrance.

“Hello there,” Basil greeted with a faint smile. Somehow, he’d almost faded into the wall where he leaned, and Ezra only caught him when he was actively looking for the Pseudo-Knight. The man was frighteningly good at that.

“Hi,” Ezra nodded back. At this point, months after arriving in the garrison and working with everybody of note, with the exception of the garrison general Gray, Ezra had a pretty good read on everyone. When alone, Chloe was relaxed, though she grew more formal and demanding in front of others. Michel didn’t demand formality, though his position seemed to force it regardless of his own opinions. Mikhail was only slightly less demanding of formality around the anti-Duke faction, and nearly went so far as to demand that everybody call him sir.

The rest of the Pseudo-Knights fell somewhere between Chloe and Mikhail, with the exception of Basil. He never cared to be treated with any particular respect, and he smirked a little as he extended a fist for Ezra to bump as they came towards the entrance to the Duke’s Manor.

“Can I help you?” Ezra asked, cocking his head.

“I should think so,” Basil chuckled. “We’re both supposed to be doing something together.”

“And you’re not going to be more specific than that?”

Ezra didn’t really expect to get an answer to that, and Basil’s smile let him know that his hunch was correct. With nothing else to do, he nodded, sighed, and gestured for Basil to lead the way into the corridor.

“After you,” Basil invited. Ezra almost did that, but then a thought crossed his mind and narrowed his eyes.

“If I lead the way, I’m going to have to lock the door behind me before you enter. It’s the rules of security, you see. You wouldn’t mind if I had you use your own key, would you?”

“About that,” Basil said, his face apologetic.

“I’m not about to break protocol for this,” Ezra laughed, shaking his head. “I think it’ll probably be alright, but that ‘probably’ is enough of a problem that I’m not going to risk it.”

“Come on, man, I have to walk so much further if I go overground,” Basil whined.

“That means I’m definitely not going to help you out,” Ezra laughed. “They’re expecting you above ground. When it turns out that things don’t go according to plan, Dominick’s going to have my head for compromising the safety of the Duke’s family because you asked for it.”

Basil started to continue to argue, but then shook his head. “I guess you are pretty good at this new job of yours. Just so you know, I’m gonna get you back.”

“I really wish that wasn’t the case,” Ezra sighed, waving Basil off. The Pseudo-Knight watched him for a while, seeming to wait for Ezra to drop his guard, but he was prepared for that. After about thirty seconds, Basil waved a lazy salute to Ezra and jogged up the stairs. Even with that separation, Ezra was far from confident in the brief window that Basil’s absence gave him, so he fought as fast as he could to unlock, open, walk through, close, and re-lock the door. Fortunately, the Pseudo-Knight didn’t press him any further, and Ezra quickly made his way down the corridor.

The magelight-illuminated pathway was a familiar one now, and lacked much of the creepiness it had originally carried for him. Even though seeing nothing but an interminable passage on both sides could be off-putting. Fortunately, Ezra hadn’t managed to get twisted around down here just yet, because if he got distracted and ended up going back where he started, that would be a massive time waste, if nothing else.

His arrival at the door into the Duke’s doorway was greeted by Elijah, and the experienced soldier gave his usual greeting. Once inside, Ezra smiled.

“Any news I should be aware of?” Ezra asked once the more formal part of his entrance into the manor was finished.

“Nothing that I’m aware of,” Elijah shrugged, the chainmail he wore clinking as he did so. “If there are any pieces of news you need to learn, I’m sure someone will find a way to tell you.”

“How’s the wife?” Ezra asked, slowing down since he was a bit ahead of schedule.

“She’s hanging in there,” Elijah answered with a sigh. “These days it’s more ‘your little monster’ instead of ‘our child’, because I guess the baby keeps kicking her in the bladder. Or, headbutts? She doesn’t have a very consistent name for it.”

Ezra laughed, and, despite Elijah’s complaints, it was obvious that every time he talked about the baby on the way, he was excited.

“Do you have any idea when it’ll be coming?” Ezra continued, making his way towards the door.

“The midwife says about a month, and we’re hoping they might come a little early,” Elijah smiled.

“Well, someday, when they’re big enough to come around here, I’d love to meet the kid,” Ezra said.

“You and everybody else,” Elijah said, bumping Ezra’s fist as the Adept made his way out of the security checkpoint. The path he walked was familiar as he got out of the underground and into the building proper. As he stepped out of the lower rooms and into the family’s space, Ezra suppressed a groan. The ability to hold back his reaction was good progress, as he found he was getting better at that, actually hiding his emotions. It was by necessity, and tonight would be another opportunity for him to get more practice.

The halls were bustling with a dozen maids and footmen, each one preparing a lavish spread. They walked carrying platters, pushing carts, and preparing the throne room for Ezra’s least favorite practice. In most dinners, he attended as a regular bodyguard, standing nearby, keeping an eye out, and largely having nothing to do. Once a week or so, the Duchess prepared a large meal like this, where everybody was drilled on different aspects of formality.

Regardless of what the late dinner would be, for now, Ezra had other things to do. He made his way through the halls, nodding, greeting the people he passed as he made his way to the library. There, Adonis was locked in a conversation with his tutor, on a subject that was becoming ever more common.

“—the princes as a whole,” Adonis disagreed. “Yes, Prince Leona is absolutely preparing for raids against the northern reaches. However, there has been no indication that anybody else shares her ideals of attempting conquest along the lands bordering the Dragon Wilds. It’s idiocy.”

“Even so, we must prepare for the worst.”

“We’re already preparing for the worst,” Adonis pressed, “but also not blindly trusting the famously fragmented emirates to suddenly work in tandem. All of our traders, moving throughout all of Al Jibahia are bringing us the same information: Leona is working alone. Any of the official merchants from the other princes are staying out and the unaffiliated traders are making their way into her holdings and making a killing. Trade is breaking down and all the diplomatic channels are drying up. We have every reason to be worried and to prepare to protect our people, but the north will not be the staging ground for a new war between the kingdom and Al Jibahia. It will be a much smaller-scale conflict, and, though we are limited in having a much longer border with the Dragon Wilds than she does, neither of us can or will be willing to commit our entire fighting force. My father has sent news to the king, and even the smallest movement between them towards us will serve as a greater deterrent for Leona to actually commit. It will be needless violence, but it’ll be nothing to worry about.”

“Good reasoning,” the tutor said, smiling. “However, have you taken into account the Beastling’s relationship with Leona?”

“He’s her cousin-in-law,” Adonis dismissed. “Such relationships mean next to nothing among the princes.”

“Yes, however, the Beastling’s mate has been dead for four years,” the tutor said with a tilt of his head. Though that particular piece of information meant nothing to Ezra as he settled in nearby, keeping an eye out of the window, Adonis’s face fell as he heard it.

“Is he going to come to her support as a favor to her, then use that willingness to invoke the familial binding tradition?” As Adonis said it, his voice trailed off, and he scratched his chin. His gaze unfocused and he shook his head. “If that’s the case, then he could be calling in favors to ensure that she is entirely without ally, which would work with the current situation. He wouldn’t even need to press very far into our lands to achieve his goal, only save a notable number of her soldiers if she insists on a doomed course of attack. Even saving a handful of Pseudo-Knights at the sacrifice of a couple hundred lives might do it.”

“You’re beginning to see even deeper,” the tutor nodded. “In truth, that is highly unlikely. The Beastling is old, reelected to the position a year after his mate’s death. He won’t live for much longer, and all reports have insisted he’s a moderate ruler. While every one of the leopardkin is vengeful, the youngest cousin of his late mate has never done anything to gain his ire. If he was to pursue this course, he would be crippling any of her further political endeavors, and he knows it. There isn't much of a reason for him to do so.”

Adonis sighed, pulling out a sheet of paper and writing a handful of notes on it before sliding it back in the folder it had been in. Then, he stood, extended a hand to the middle-aged man, and shook it once, firmly.

“Thank you, Joshua.”

“Of course.”

With that, Joshua sat back down, pulling out a pair of books that he started to cross-reference while Adonis turned, smiled at Ezra, and walked out of the room.

“How likely do you think it is that the old man actually does this family binding thing?” Ezra asked, walking at Adonis’s side.

“I’ve always trusted Joshua’s analysis,” Adonis said, shrugging. “He’s been my father’s chief political analyst for nearly as long as I’ve been alive. Been working as a diplomatic executive assistant for a decade before that. He knows his stuff.”

“Okay, and what do you think?” Ezra insisted. “It seems like you think the old leopard might try it.”

“Might is just about as much credence as I would give it,” Adonis grumbled. “I bet he’s right, but if he’s wrong, and we suddenly have to face some of the Knights and Beast Bishops or, Inkosuza forbid, a Master from Jibahia, that means every one of our people on that battlefield will be slaughtered or enslaved. It’d be forcing a greater conflict instead of a series of skirmishes and eventual settlement in the favor of the victor.”

Ezra’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he sighed and asked, “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” Adonis shook his head. “There’s nothing I can do either.”

“Then let’s try not to worry about it, as much as we can,” Ezra shrugged, following Adonis to his personal study. The fact that there was a library, and then an office or study for the Duke, Duchess, and all three of their children, was ridiculous to Ezra, but he was far past the point of doing anything more than acknowledging that thought. Once inside of Adonis’s study, Ezra saw a woman who nearly made his jaw clench. Instead, as Adonis stepped forward and took her hand before bowing over it, and making a kissing noise just above the hand, Ezra stayed back and bowed.

“Lady Cassandra,” he greeted.

“Welcome, Lord Adonis and Sir Ezra. Are you ready for your etiquette and deportment lesson?”

***

The hour and a half spent with Lady Cassandra was painful, just as Ezra had known it would be, but fortunately, it did come to an end with minimal instances of Cassandra’s tittering corrections.

“Thank you for your time, sir, Lord,” she bowed her head as she excused herself. “I will make sure to send a message regarding our next appointment.”

Both men repeated the greetings they had given her and she exited. As soon as she was gone, Adonis looked up at Ezra and asked, “Are you ready for the formal dinner with my parents?”

“I never am, but I always have to,” Ezra granted.

Neither said anything more as they both made their way down the hall towards the throne room turned ballroom. There, the Duke and Duchess were already sitting together, with Helen also at her spot to the Duchess’s left. Hector’s, the firstborn, spot was currently empty, at the Duke’s left.

Ezra settled into his position behind Adonis, grateful to see that tonight, at least, there wasn’t a place set for him. As such, he wasn’t “escorting” anyone, and could instead only focus on performing as a guard. Before he could settle down, though, Hector arrived.

The Duke’s first son and successor was, according to Adonis, everything the second son wasn’t. Well-coordinated and powerful, with an aptitude for sorcery like the Duke, Hector was as physically and militarily competent as Adonis was bookish and studious. The few times that Ezra’d interacted with Hector outside of the occasional meal were short, but he was forward, driven, and direct. Where the Duke seemed to only put on a severe face when necessary, Ezra had never seen Hector relax.

“My apologies for holding you all up,” Hector said as he strode in. “I was finishing my packing.”

Ezra’s eyes narrowed, and only then did he notice Basil. Somehow, the Pseudo-Knight was still hiding himself, and had exposed himself to look directly at Ezra. 

“That is just as well,” the Duke said, smiling. Then, he turned his attention back to the table and began the usual back and forth of the family at these dinners. Conversations were dances, each step choreographed and yet, somehow, a fight. Each of the people at the table were more than competent at their roles, and Ezra was reminded that while he was learning how to hold his own here, he wasn’t at all able to be measured against them.

“Then,” the Duchess said, her voice an interruption that demanded attention, “there comes the more important point tonight.”

No words answered her, but every face stared in her direction.

“You always enjoy having your actions fulfill multiple necessities,” Adonis observed, though his eyes were focused on Hector. “I’d imagine that some people here have some information regarding this important point already?”

“True,” Lady Adriana smiled at her son. “However, before we get into it, I have a question for your guard. Ezra, how close are you to becoming a Pseudo-Knight?”