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“I hope you’ll feel less inclined to scowl when we meet the Cordonas.”
The corners of Yovan’s mouth lifted a bit at his father’s gentle admonishment. He turned his head to regard his parents, his gaze softening as he noted the anxiety that had marred their countenances the previous day had markedly lessened.
“Rest you, Ama, I promise I’ll be my charming and amiable self,” he said.
Evran reached over and briefly squeezed his knee while Laval laid a fond gaze on him. Yovan stifled a sigh. He would not trouble his parents with his continued misgivings and make them feel guilty anew.
Laval sent word of his acquiescence the morning after their discussion. Asrael Cordona responded with an invitation to dinner at his residence on the perimeter of the west district just two streets away from the central district. He’d also reiterated his assurance of his son’s beauty. Yovan had not really been keen to meet the Cordonas, but then decided he might as well get it over with soonest.
Now however, as their carriage headed toward the financial and commercial center of the capital and the kingdom’s hub of government, he numbly stared out the window. It was no small matter to bind himself to a Deir he knew nothing about. Someone whose appearance or character he had no idea of. What if Mered Cordona was a cold, ill-tempered prat or a spoiled and whiny brat?
He chided himself for ascribing the worst attributes to a Deir he’d never met. It was the last thing he should be doing if he hoped to get any sort of relationship with his soon-to-be-intended off to an agreeable start. He instead pondered the reason he’d become the lynchpin of his parents’ contract with the Cordonas—his accessibility despite his lineage.
That’s what came of having an unrepentant royal rakehell for a grandsire.
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The second son of the Ardan Varael Essendri, Prince Andrion had been a thorn in his royal kin’s collective side due to his inability to keep his shaft in his breeches whenever he spotted a nicely shaped arse. Bad enough that he’d been the cause of several broken betrothals; he’d also been party to a goodly number of failed marriages.
The Ardan had done his best to appease those of his nobles whose spouses and fiancés his profligate son had tupped while uncomfortably aware there were many more relationships among his lesser subjects Andrion had helped ruin. But though exasperated with his younger son, Varael loved him and deemed him deserving of his tolerance and forgiveness.
Then Andrion did the unpardonable and his sire could no longer find it in himself to tolerate or forgive. Not when it entailed the seduction of his heir’s intended and siring a bastard on him. It was only with much pleading that Varael managed to prevent Gilvreth from putting his brother to the sword when he discovered how thoroughly he’d been cuckolded. But that was only because the Ardan could not conceive of his children slaying one another. The punishment he later levied on Andrion proved a fate worse than death for one whose entire life revolved around his entitlement as a prince of the realm.
Varael ordered Andrion to marry Morev for he would not countenance the entry of a bastard into the immediate royal family. But hardly had the rite been completed when the Ardan stripped his second son of all his titles, severed his access to all things royal and banished him from the Citadel. Far be it from him to reward so irresponsible and untrustworthy a Deir with the retention of the privileges that had facilitated his lamentable behavior in the first place. Henceforth Andrion Essendri would no longer be a prince or lord, but an untitled aristocrat.
Varael however did not wish to subject his future grandson to a life of poverty. And while bereft of his titles and their entailed wealth and properties, Andrion was still a prince of the blood. His child would be a scion of the Royal House and first degree kin to Crown Prince Gilvreth and his progeny. Therefore Varael bestowed an ample allowance on his errant son, as well as a large house in the affluent north district of Rikara.
His generosity would have provided a prudent Deir with an enviably comfortable life. Unfortunately, Andrion was far from prudent. Instead of being grateful for his sire’s endowment, he complained it was too paltry for one of his exalted place in society. It seemed he was determined to ignore his expulsion from the ranks of the royal family. Or mayhap he was in denial of what his actions had cost him. Whatever the reason, he proceeded to live beyond his means.
Then Morev lost the babe halfway through the six-month long Deiran gestation period and nearly died from it. Fortunately, he recovered but a decade passed before he finally carried a child to term. Varael duly acknowledged Evran as his grandson, but he did not restore Andrion’s princely titles and privileges. However, he continued to support them financially.
But such was Andrion’s wastrel ways that by the time Evran reached his toddler years, the family already felt the pinch of depleted resources. It was only Morev’s thrift and his squirreling away of any additional largesse the Ardan sent their way that enabled them to keep up appearances. Nonetheless, Andrion’s irresponsibility extended to his health. His body already weakened by his inordinate attachment to liquor, he did not have the strength to fight off the ague that would kill him just months after his older brother ascended to the throne of Ylandre.
Gilvreth was kind enough to remember his widowed law-brother in this time of need. But he was not so forgiving of his former intended’s faithlessness that he could be as generous as his sire had been. He provided Morev with a quarterly stipend he thought adequate to maintain a noble’s lifestyle. But what a king who’d never dealt with the vagaries of life outside the Citadel considered adequate was nowhere near reality. Morev however was in no position to ask for more especially since Gilvreth’s Ardis did not approve of his spouse’s decision to extend assistance to the Deir who betrayed him.
So Morev tightened his belt further and did his best to stretch his resources as far as possible while continuing the façade of prosperity he and Andrion had kept up. He was aware most of the aristocracy were no longer deceived, but he would not sacrifice his pride and dignity by publicly acknowledging the truth. Pride and dignity were all he had left in some abundance.
When Evran came of age, he realized he had little chance of making a suitable match. He was of direct royal descent and would always be counted a member of Ylandre’s ruling house. But while this guaranteed his acceptance in polite society, the estrangement from the Crown prevented him from being a valuable commodity on the marriage mart to fellow bluebloods. Even kinsfolk.
The members of House Essendri had unanimously sided with Gilvreth against Andrion who typically enough had never bothered to endear himself to his relatives. The upshot of his arrogance was that no one merited alignment with his family through marriage with his son worth the incurrence of Gilvreth’s enmity and later his successor Joren’s displeasure.
Ironically, it was also this close blood relationship to the Crown that prohibited Evran from wedding a non-aristocrat. He had been a king’s grandson, was the reigning Ardan’s nephew by the former’s only brother and the closest degree cousin to Ylandre’s next monarch. All his kin would look askance at him were he to espouse a mere commoner. It would only make matters worse for him and and his father.
When Evran turned seventy with nary a decent proposal and too many rejections from Deira of noble name and repute on his plate, he despaired of ever marrying or begetting children. While the Deiran reproductive capability lasted well into the eighth decade, it started to wane late in the seventh. Evran’s window of opportunity was narrowing rapidly. Looming over all of his problems was the state of his resources. They were dwindling as steadily as his fertility was diminishing.
A few years later, Laval Seydon arrived in Rikara in search of a mate.
He hailed from Ilmaren’s lesser-born aristocracy; the lowest rung in fact. But he was well-to-do having inherited a considerable fortune from his sire and propitiously made sound investments as well. His social connections had been further enhanced by the marriage of his father’s younger brother to a distant relation of House Arthanna, the ruling clan of the fief. His subsequent encounters with Ilmaren’s highbred bluebloods had stoked the ambition to join their ranks and he eventually concluded marriage would serve his purposes best.
So he scouted around for eligible aristocrats who were long in lineage, but short on coin. He looked as far as the capital which he suspected abounded with just the sort of impoverished bluebloods he deemed suited to his purpose.
It did not take him very long to get wind of the Ardan’s hard up, unwed cousin. Whereupon he removed himself to Rikara, finagled an introduction to Evran Essendri and after a judicious period of time, initiated a relentless courtship of his hoped-for ticket into the uppermost echelons of society.
The desire to swiftly ascend the social ladder spurred Laval’s pursuit of Evran despite the latter’s age. The need to extricate himself and his ailing father from their predicament convinced Evran to accept Laval’s proposal though he knew it was driven by ambition. At least Laval was charming, affectionate and pleasing to the eye.
Given their late years, they agreed they would both try to conceive and hopefully carry a babe to term. When against all odds Evran got with child soon after their binding, it changed their feelings about their marriage and each other.
What began as a marriage of convenience developed into a union of mutual devotion and they forgave each other for their initial intentions. When Joren unbent enough to send a christening gift on the occasion of Yovan’s naming day, the pair believed it portended a great future for their son.
Thanks to Laval’s modest fortune, Yovan grew up in a manner befitting a highborn. However, Evran refused to coddle him having seen how indulgence had damaged his sire’s character. He also encouraged Yovan to take his schooling seriously and urged him to consider his prospects when he came of age, something that confounded those who learned of it.
It was unheard of for aristocrats to raise a child with an eye toward his taking up a profession unless it was as a commissioned officer in the armed forces, high-ranking government official, well-placed legal practitioner or member of the clergy. Healing and teaching were deemed acceptable occupations but only if one was born with the gift of the first or had a vocation for the second.
Highbred Deira were expected to live on their inheritances or the income from their families’ estates and properties. Mercantile endeavors were frowned upon among the upper crust such that aristocrats who engaged in trade and the like did their best to be so discreet as to be nigh invisible.
But Evran’s experience with his parents and later his own adherence to tradition informed his decisions on how to rear his only child.
He would not make the same mistake and hamstring Yovan’s ability to earn a good living. Nor would he raise his son to believe it his lot to rely on the charity of relations. Besides, he suspected some customs were beginning to loosen their hold if the rumors about certain of the great families were indicative of change.
Evran had heard that even among the Essendris, the move toward less restrictions with regard to the accumulation of more income was beginning to gain ground. The Mithanis of Glanthar actually owned a shipping fleet which bid fair to grow into the largest in the kingdom. And the ruling family of Losshen, the Calanthes, had long albeit quietly partnered with common-born Deira in a number of lucrative businesses. They had since financially surpassed the oldest and richest families in the northern fief.
True, they were the exceptions. Polite society as a whole still looked askance at commerce and it would take several more years and stories of riches multiplied before they ceased to eschew such endeavors. But considering the number of heirs a fief-lord or baron might have to provide for, it made a lot of sense to look for other means to increase one’s wealth or holdings even if it entailed dipping one’s fingers in trade or being gainfully employed.
Thus, when Yovan entered university, he was one of a handful of aristocrats who saw higher education as a gateway to the various professions deemed suitable for bluebloods. He knew he was not cut out for a military career nor did he wish to enter the Church. His concupiscence would get him defrocked before too long. He considered medicine, law and teaching but had to admit he had no aptitude for the first, little enthusiasm for the second, and deemed the third a last resort.
Evran suggested he look into politics while Laval encouraged him to consider the diplomatic corps or perhaps finance which was starting to gain acceptance among bluebloods. Yovan duly enrolled at the College of Law and Governance, but also took short courses in Consular Studies and Banking and Finance.
It meant a full load and long days, but Yovan had been focused and disciplined. He also exhibited early on not only great intelligence and resourcefulness, but also the prowess of a gifted mental adept expected of an Essendri of the direct line of royal decent. To this end, his father engaged kinsfolk to help him train Yovan to wield his abilities well.
This was not to say all members of the royal family inherited the full range of mental gifts associated with the Essendris. Though he’d never met them, Yovan had heard many tales about his cousins the Ardan Keldon and Imcael, the Herun of Qimaras.
It was bruited about that Keldon was fully gifted and highly-trained, but Imcael not so much. Yovan did not understand how some inherited traits could bypass a Deir while manifesting wholly in his sibling.
What puzzled him more however were the rumors that his Uncle Joren had decided intensive training of his younger son was a waste of time and effort. How else to explain the gossip among the Citadel folk that he had focused on developing Keldon’s abilities while leaving Imcael to receive the training of modestly gifted enyra? Or was there another less apparent reason for Joren’s seeming negligence of the second prince?
Interestingly enough, what should have generated shock and censure in House Essendri and among the nobility garnered little interest and concern for Imcael. Yovan wondered if his cousin’s reported caustic personality had put off folk so much that they could not muster enough sympathy for him to call Joren’s attention to his alleged mistreatment. But it was all hearsay and Yovan did not care to base conclusions on anything other than hard facts.
In any case, he preferred to concentrate on securing his future. To this end, he’d focused all his energies on doing well at university, garnering the interest and approval of instructors and schoolmates whose good opinion mattered to him, and generally preparing himself to gain financial independence .
So diligently did he work at excelling in everything he undertook that just before he began his last year, the Dean of the College of Law and Governance offered him a position as a student instructor. With his academic workload now lighter and given the incentive of a modest but proper salary, Yovan had jumped at the chance to reduce his reliance on his parents.
Yet despite his full schedule, he still managed to find the time to sow his wild oats. And he’d gone about it with the same singular focus he’d applied to his studies that despite his youth he soon gained a reputation as a consummate lover.
Yovan did not particularly enjoy hearing his beauty and bed manners extolled. However he did like what the praise reaped and this was a goodly number of marriage proposals. Though he was not interested in settling down anytime soon, it pleased him he would not face uncertainty over his marital prospects as his father had. Even better, since he was second-degree kin to the reigning Ardan Keldon, he was not as constrained as Evran had been to marry no lower than the aristocracy provided his mate was a True Blood and well off.
Simply put, he had choices.
––––––––
But that’s no longer the case, Yovan sourly thought as the carriage turned into the west district, home to the city’s working class, main market and entertainment center, the Quarter. In one stroke, he’d been stripped of all choices and forced to accept the hand fate had dealt him.
He might not have minded so much if his parents had arranged a match with someone he was already acquainted with. But, nay, he was to be bound to a Deir in what was for all intents and purposes a business transaction. Considering the family involved, he supposed it was only to be expected.
Of both enyran and sedyran descent, the Cordonas were that rarity—partial True Bloods whose antecedents were so obscure they could not even claim to belong to the minor gentry whereas Half Bloods of respectable name could and did. It was not surprising that despite being at the helm of the largest banking network in the North Continent, the Cordonas still had not gained acceptance by polite society. All their vast wealth could not erase their crass beginnings.
To put it baldly, he was going to marry into a family of social climbers.
“We’re here,” Laval quietly said.
Yovan started out of his musings and realized the carriage had come to a halt. He followed his parents out of the vehicle and found himself in front of a massive structure which looked as out of place among its neighbors as the Citadel would were it planted in the middle of a small country town. He stared at the mansion in dismay.
Palatial dwellings were not unusual in the affluent north district, the enclave of Rikara’s upper crust. Since there were many more large homes than not, none stood out like a giant among dwarfs. But in the other residential areas of the capital, a sizable house would stick out like a sore thumb and in this case did. The Cordona abode loomed awkwardly over the structures around it.
It doesn’t look like it belongs, Yovan mused.
The Cordonas’ inability to purchase a residence in the north district confirmed just how exclusive the enclave was that money alone could not gain a Deir property therein if he was not considered a suitable neighbor. Hence the outrageously immense mansion in a part of town where modest-sized homes were the norm. Furthermore, the house was stark testament to excess and lack of a discerning eye.
Yovan quickly picked out architectural details that had been copied wholesale from different homes and buildings in the city and cobbled together with little to no finesse. And even if they’d attempted to incorporate all these details into a cohesive design, there were some which had never been intended for a private dwelling. The Citadel’s soaring towers and buttresses for instance, or the intricately carved doors of the Rikara temple’s three main entrances.
“It isn’t just their carriage that lacks in moderation,” Yovan muttered to Evran as they mounted the stairs to the pillared portico. “They’d best prepare for some hard lessons in good taste.”
Evran laid a severe gaze on him. “Hush, Van. Let’s not offend our hosts before we’ve been introduced.”
“I gave my word I would behave, Ama.” When his father sighed, Yovan gripped his shoulder reassuringly. “I’m resolved to be civil. I hope Mered Cordona gives me reason to be more than that.”