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Presley had never especially liked Rawdon. Because the city had served as the capital of an independent principality before their princes also became Myrcia’s kings, Rawdonians often felt this made them superior to other cities in Myrcia. But Presley came from Leornian, capital of the ancient kingdom that came before Myrcia ever existed, still the center of art and education in the country, and a city of refinement ruled over by the peerless Dryhten family. Alternatively, Rawdon reeked of pretension, trying and usually failing to emulate the Immani, and led by Aldrick Sigor, most worthless man in the realm.
But for all that, the city was Presley’s destination, and for better or worse, around lunchtime on October 20th, he and Vittoria entered the city. They had not sent word ahead to the Prince’s Palace that they would be arriving today, since with the pace Vittoria set, they would have outpaced anyone carrying a message. Every part of Presley ached, and all he hoped for was a long, hot soak when he arrived. Surely Aldrick could manage a bath. Although, Presley did at least now understand Vittoria’s haste after their discussion that first night.
The missing royal treasure, it seemed, was located somewhere in Rawdon.
Neither Presley nor Vittoria knew where, but Faustinus had equipped her with a magysk necklace that could detect magy, such as that contained in Finster’s book, the most priceless object in the missing treasures. “We must find the treasure immediately,” she said. “For King Edwin’s sake, of course.” But Presley understood that if Vittoria or any other agent of Faustinus found the treasure, they intended to sell it back to Edwin and use the money to fund the new bank. If Presley had been in the same room as Faustinus when he realized this, Presley would have let the hillichmagnar know just how disgusting he found this treatment of their old friends. Presley also made the decision to talk to Robert Tynsdale, assassin of Broderick the elder and chief spymaster for the Sigors. If anyone could find the treasure before Vittoria, Presley would bet on Sir Robert.
Unsurprisingly, the guards on duty at the palace seemed surprised to see them. Yes, they knew Sir Presley was expected, but not for many more days. “I would have expected that myself,” he said, needing help down from his horse on his shaky legs. “If there are not rooms ready, we can go to an inn. I would not wish to put the duke to any inconvenience.”
“I’m sure you’re all consideration,” a voice oozed behind Presley.
When he turned here in the broad courtyard at the front of the palace, he saw Aldrick approaching from the stables. He had aged in the years since Presley had last seen him—hair almost completely gray and his skin an unhealthy pasty shade. But he was more than a decade younger than Presley and appeared in sturdy enough shape.
“As long as I’ve known you, Sir Presley, you’ve always been attentive to my convenience.”
Presley had no trouble keeping his face neutral at this obvious reminder to when he had supported Rohesia when she changed her mind about eloping with Aldrick when they were teenagers. He had known it was coming as soon as he saw Aldrick. In his petty insistence on holding a grudge in perpetuity, Aldrick was remarkably predictable. If only he could be so predictable in everything, this would all be decidedly simpler.
“Hello, your grace,” Presley replied. He only offered a small bow, as he did not care how formal he was to Aldrick, and also because he ached too much to manage any deeper. “Truly, if it is a problem that we have arrived before we were expected, Domina Spontina and I can find other accommodations in the city.”
Aldrick scowled at Vittoria, looking her over head to toe. “Yes, Domina Spontina and I know each other. I guess you’ll both have a room.”
Vittoria gave him a sweet smile, as if he were actually behaving properly. Now that Presley thought about it, he knew Vittoria had come to Rawdon shortly before the invasion on Faustinus’s orders and with King Edwin’s blessing, but he realized that he didn’t know how she had presented herself or what had happened between her and Aldrick. He quickly decided he did not need the details.
Aldrick now nodded to a servant who had come trotting out of the palace. “Show the... lady to a room, and drop Sir Presley’s bags wherever.” He turned to Vittoria. “You can go to your room.” Then moving on to Presley, he said, “And you can come with me. We have things to discuss.”
Presley wanted to protest, to ask for the bath he had dreamed of just a few minutes earlier. But there was no point. If he was here to help (which he was), antagonizing Aldrick would be stupid. And Aldrick was stupid enough for both of them.
“It would be my pleasure,” Presley said through his diplomatic business smile.
They entered the marble foyer, and he could hear voices coming from the rotunda. He imagined Rohesia would be in there, chatting politely with others over a lunch buffet. But Rohesia, lunch, and all things pleasant would have to wait. Instead, Aldrick led them around the rotunda to his personal study. Although the room was messy, it had good light thanks to the banks of windows overlooking the beach leading down to Lake Newlin. Presley headed for a chair by the windows while Aldrick poured wine.
“So, now that you’re here, Alice and William Trevelyan are finally getting married. I guess I shouldn’t be mad you got here early.”
Presley accepted the wine and found himself wondering what Rohesia had told Aldrick and agreed to. He could not imagine that she would have stated anything definitively, though. “I am here to advise the dowager queen on the best course for a potential marriage for her daughter.”
“The king gave me license to negotiate as the head of the Sigor family in Myrcia, and this is what I negotiated. There’s nothing for you to discuss with the king’s mom.”
Presley wanted to say that the king clearly wanted the dowager queen to negotiate further on his behalf or else she would not be in Rawdon to do so. Naturally, he did not. “There are always details to iron out. But I wouldn’t want to speculate about them until I’ve had the chance to speak with her majesty.”
“Well, you’re going to get this done, or you can just go back to the Empire to do... whatever it is you do there.”
Presley shifted, his body already growing stiff and uncooperative. He really could use that bath. But Aldrick had just provided the perfect opening to mention Faustinus’s bank. “I retired from Stylianos Shipping a few months ago. I’m enjoying some free time, so I can make trips like this. Faustinus has also asked me to do a little business for him while I’m here.”
“Has he ever caused anything but trouble for Myrcia? I wouldn’t help him if I were you. Thankfully, I’m not you.”
“Well, Faustinus did help Edmund Dryhten win the Myrcian War of Independence.”
Aldrick drained his wineglass and made his way back over to the sideboard to get more. “Hillichmagnars are never as much help as they like to think. Faustinus more than most.”
Getting into a fight with Aldrick on any of these points would be useless. Instead, Presley dived into the important factors. “He started a bank in Presidium. He would like to open branches here in Myrcia. As you’re the Treasurer of Myrcia, I was hoping you could let me know what he has to do as far as licensing and the rest.”
Aldrick laughed so hard he sloshed wine down the front of his light blue tunic. “Oh fuck,” he said, wiping at the spill, but still laughing. “That’s a good one. Faustinus the banker. What does Myrcia need with another Immani bank? We’ve already got Procellus and the other big ones. I don’t see why we should invite Faustinus back into the country.”
“I don’t think he intends to come here and run it,” Presley said, trying to look pleasant. “He just needs me to get the paperwork rolling so he can have a branch or two.”
Aldrick studied Presley for a while, his countenance going from amused to thoughtful to cruel. Slowly, he walked back and took the seat across from Presley once more. After lazily crossing his legs and taking another sip of wine, he finally said, “I would be happy to discuss Faustinus’s bank. Happy to even smooth the way for him to open fifty branches in Myrcia. But do you know what else would make me happy? Do you?”
The glee on Aldrick’s face made Presley queasy. He was not going to like the answer. “I’m sure a great many things would make you happy. Good cinnamon rolls always bring me a great deal of joy.”
Aldrick’s smirk grew and he leaned forward, staring Presley very intently in the eye. “Announcing Alice and William’s engagement at my Finstertide party. You have, what,” he rolled his eyes up as though thinking or counting, “eleven days. Yes, eleven days to figure out all the ‘details’ as you like to call them. And if you do that, then maybe we can discuss Faustinus’s bank.”
“I would advise against making any plans, your grace. A number of problems could arise.”
“What sort of problems could possibly stop this wedding? I negotiated the defection of the Gramirens’ best general with a promise of marriage. It’s going to happen.”
Presley probably shouldn’t say more, but he was tired, his back was killing him, and his thighs felt rubbed raw. Plus, Aldrick had a way of bringing out the worst in him. “Perhaps affections are otherwise engaged on one side or the other. That’s one complication.”
Aldrick stood so abruptly his chair teetered. “I understand some people in this situation have problems understanding how promises of marriage work. Be sure to explain it better to Alice than you did her mother. Eleven days. That’s all you have.”
***
ROHESIA SENT A NOTE that reached him while he soaked in his bath. She would be in her rooms the rest of the afternoon until supper and would be happy to see him at any point once he was ready for company. While he ate a hasty snack of bread, cheese, and cold meat, he sent a reply that he would call on her within the hour.
When he arrived, Presley found Queen Rohesia had been placed in the finest of the palace’s guest suites, the one, in fact, King Edwin himself would occupy if he had come. How different from the glorified servants’ quarters Presley knew she had occupied with Alice, her niece, Helena, and a governess for years of house arrest during the war.
Now she was seated on a soft couch of fine linen, behind her a broad writing desk well-stocked with stationery and inks, a tray of sparkling glassware on the carved walnut table in front of her. She looked like the queen she was, surrounded by the best the palace had to offer, wearing a gown of blue silk shown to excellent advantage by her upright frame. Rohesia Sigor was a regal woman, and it gladdened his heart to see her looking so here in the kingdom from which she had spent too long in exile.
Beside her in a wide armchair sat Lawrence, her brother, the Earl of Hyrne, former Captain General of Myrcia, and a man Presley knew all too well. They had met decades ago when Lawrence squired as a teenager to Duke Brandon Dryhten in Leornian and Presley served as Brandon’s treasurer. The duke, being a thoughtful mentor, wanted to prepare Lawrence not only for martial activities, but for the challenges that awaited him when he became earl. To that end, Presley was tasked with teaching Lawrence the principles of estate management. Lawrence had proved a terrible student of finance. And given the fact he had been an unmitigated disaster as captain general, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory on more than one occasion, he had not learned his martial lessons from Duke Brandon, either.
Lawrence did manage to elicit some sympathy from Presley by virtue of having spent five years in the Wealdan Castle dungeon after being captured at the Battle of Erstenwell. He was as thin now as Presley had ever seen him, and looked older than Presley, despite being more than a decade younger. The Gramirens had not been kind, and no level of incompetence deserved the treatment he had suffered all those years.
Beside him on a sturdy chair with silver and blue cushions sat a man Presley did not know well, but immediately recognized. He was Sir Franklin Porcher, a native of Rawdon, who had survived even worse than Lawrence at the hands of the Gramirens, particularly Queen Muriel. His history was complicated—his grandparents had been good friends of Muriel and Lukas Ostensen’s parents, so he’d squired with Duke Lukas, who eventually became Broderick Gramiren’s captain general. Although the bond between a knight and squire was often strong, Sir Franklin sided with his family, who were staunch Sigor supporters. He tried, along with his brother, Alan, to play both sides in an attempt to help Edwin. It led to Sir Alan being executed right here at the Prince’s Palace in the very courtyard where Presley had talked to Aldrick earlier that day. Sir Franklin had been tortured and eventually joined Lawrence in the Wealdan Castle dungeon. Presley recognized him so quickly because of his missing left ear, taken by Muriel’s torturer.
“Presley!” Rohesia said with a broad smile. She rose and extended her hand for him to take. As he bowed over it, she said, “It always does my heart good to see you. Thank you for getting here so quickly.”
He squeezed her hand and returned the smile. It was on the tip of his tongue to explain she had Vittoria to thank for getting him to Rawdon in record time. But then he remembered there had been a time leading up to the fateful Battle of Erstenwell when Vittoria had been sleeping with Lawrence in a bid to use their closeness to give him good advice. He, obviously, had not taken it.
“My pleasure, of course. Earl Lawrence,” he added with a nod. And then another. “Sir Franklin, I believe, yes?”
Lawrence nodded back, without saying anything. Sir Franklin, however, laughed. “I’m not the only one-eared man in Myrcia, I’m sure, and yet, it seems I am known wherever I go.”
Presley chuckled in return. “I was fortunate enough to know your famous grandparents, and there is undoubtedly a family resemblance. I was very happy to hear of your release.”
“As were my famous grandparents.” Sir Franklin paused, his reaction amused at Presley’s confusion. “People don’t believe it, but it is true—Quintilian and Gloria Porcher are still alive and well! They are in their 90s now, but they claim all those years of activity on the tourney circuit are an excellent recipe for longevity.”
“That’s remarkable. And I’m so pleased they lived to see you returned to them.”
“Please, have a seat,” Rohesia said, having retaken her own. As he settled in at the other end of the couch, she added, “And tell us everything. How was your journey? How are all our old friends in the Empire? Is Grigory too cross that we have borrowed you?”
He answered all her questions and more. As he answered, though, he studied the three of them. Rohesia maintained her usual poise, but he knew her well enough to sense an undercurrent of anxiety—a slight tightness in her smile, the way she clasped her hands tightly in her lap. Lawrence was quiet and subdued, and though his eyes followed the conversation, he barely participated in it. Presley had never known him to possess any conversation style other than dominating it. Perhaps the past five years have changed him. How could they not?
Presley found Sir Franklin as friendly and charming as Rohesia, Elwyn, and Edwin had reported. But given the nature of the conversation Presley had come to Rawdon to have with the Sigor family, he wondered at the man’s presence.
But Presley soon got his answer when Sir Franklin stood and bowed to Rohesia, Lawrence, and Presley in turn. “Sir Presley, while you are in Rawdon, know that I am at your disposal. You may not be aware, but I have been working with Sir Robert Tynsdale since my release. He is currently... elsewhere, but I will do what I may in his stead.”
Sir Robert’s absence was a disappointment, but Presley assumed Sir Franklin would be quite useful. “That is very kind. I traveled with Vittoria Spontina. If you have not met her, I am sure she will be happy to make your acquaintance.”
Lawrence shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Vittoria. Sir Franklin, though, politely bowed. “I have heard of Domina Spontina. I will go introduce myself. If your majesty no longer requires me.”
“Please. Go speak with her and pass along my greetings,” Rohesia answered.
Lawrence stood now, but made eye contact with no one. “I think I will go as well. I know you and Sir Presley have a lot to talk about.”
Once the men were out of the room, Rohesia seemed to deflate a bit, and sank back into the cushions of the couch. “I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am to have my brother back. And it is going to be extraordinary for Helena to finally get to know her father. But I must confess to you, Presley, there is an adjustment. Like Helena, I too, sometimes feel as though I am only now getting to know him.”
“He has been through a lot since you last saw him at the siege of Leornian. You have been through a great deal.”
She sighed and tried to smile. “And yet, he is my brother. I know him, and do not know him. At any rate, returning to Myrcia has, apparently, made me philosophical.”
They chatted a bit more about old friends Rohesia had seen, such as Margaret Lamu, Countess of Garthdin, Duke Brandon’s daughter, who Presley had grown up with. Since Edwin’s restoration, her husband had taken back up his post at the fortress of Keaton Fastenn to the east of Rawdon.
“She is still as plain spoken as always,” Rohesia said, which Presley knew meant she had remained acerbic and opinionated. His old accountancy student, Paul Broward, was well, married with three children, and serving Edwin well by trying to rein in Aldrick’s worst instincts as Treasurer of Myrcia.
“And I hear there are still many Finches operating barges from Leornian to Severn, Formacaster to Rawdon. Many of our old friends and allies are well. However....”
“You can never have too many allies.”
She nodded. “Particularly as it can be difficult to be sure of them all.”
“I have given the situation a great deal of thought on the way here. May I be blunt about a few details troubling me?”
“I would love nothing more. Everyone wants this settled as quickly as possible, and that will be aided by the two of us being direct.”
“Good.” He took a deep breath. “From what I understand, William Trevelyan and Lilianne Sigor are... fond of each other. Why don’t they get married? That would bring him into the family.”
Rohesia’s lips twitched up at the corners. “I thought we were being blunt. They are not fond of each other. I believe they are in love. But there are two reasons why they do not marry. One, Aldrick will not permit it. He believes he can find a better match for her, but I cannot imagine who. And two, marrying Lilianne merely would make him a cousin by marriage to Edwin. That isn’t close enough.”
Presley raised an eyebrow, and he asked the question, but he thought he already knew the answer. Maybe it was seeing Lawrence that made it obvious. “Close enough for what?”
“To be named captain general,” she answered, as he had known she would. “Earl Cedric, bless that brilliant man, has been doing the job of a captain general since the invasion. But he has not formally been given the title. And since the position usually goes to a close member of the king’s family, we need a competent general to marry Alice. It’s that simple.”
Presley remembered the siege of Leornian and poor Sir Alfred Estnor. Rohesia had desperately wanted to name the man captain general over her own brother. And eventually Elwyn had agreed to marry Sir Alfred, as she truly did love him. But before they could wed, Elwyn and Edwin had been forced to flee Myrcia and Sir Alfred had died in battle. Now, Rohesia wanted to try essentially the same trick, only with a marriage between Edwin’s other sister and a different commander. There was one problem, though.
“But Alice and William don’t love each other.”
“I wish they did, but I am sure they like each other well enough. That could easily grow to real affection. It happened to me.”
She was right about herself, he knew, having been there for Rohesia and Edgar’s courtship and early years of marriage. But she was extremely poised in a way Alice was not when I saw her last. I don’t think the result will be the same. “But you were given time to choose on your own. Aldrick says he wants to announce the engagement at Finstertide.”
“She appreciates that sometimes duty alters plans. How could she not with the life she has led? Will you speak with her? I feel you could provide much needed guidance and reassurance. As you did for me.”
He nodded, but said, “As I recall, I guided you to take your time and be certain of your decision.”
“And in a perfect world, I would give her that time and control. In the imperfect world in which we live, I tried to give that to Elwyn, but that worked out in no one’s favor.”
If Alice is not Rohesia, she is even less Elwyn. But Alice has surely changed in her years at Atherton and with the turmoil of her brother’s successful invasion. I surely do not know Alice well enough to say for certain what will be a happy, or at least workable, future for her.
“Alright. I will speak with Alice. And then we will try to figure out how best to manage the situation.”
“Oh, thank you, Presley! I knew you would put everything to right.”