Chapter 16: Letters |
Magic is fundamentally chaotic… When you use it, you invite more chaos into your life and even if you stop, the chaos you summoned doesn’t.
High Magus Luther
Waking was difficult for Solomon the following morning. He’d spent the entirety of his day after church buried underground under the watchful eyes of an angry god comparing and contrasting runes. He had intended to sleep earlier, but had gotten too wrapped up in what he was doing. Not even the dreadful draft that seemed to permeate his bones whenever he was looking at the runes could break his focus.
He would’ve slept in, but he had a number of correspondences he wanted to respond to alongside the staggering amount of evidence he’d managed to compile against Mayor Neiman and First Watchman Marcus. When it reached Etling and their garrison they would no doubt send a large contingent to arrest them and flush out any corruption tied to them. Once they were out of play Solomon would have temporary control over managing the city, and that would make turning things around in the town easier, which would simplify attracting new businesses to Moonfallow.
He grabbed the first letter among the stack, scolding himself for not simply writing responses as he received them, and unfolded it. He recognized the parchment with the stag head emblem of the Morrow family printer at the top.
Solomon,
It is good you made it to your new estate and have taken things in hand. Upon a review of inherited properties, it was determined that your manor is too insignificant to tip the balance past the ten-percent allowed by the law of primogeniture. I had no personal desire to remove the property from you, but I did not wish to be counter to the law.
Your old room has been converted into guest quarters and will soon see its first visitors from the Grydens. If there were any additional goods or furniture that you wished to have, I have included an itemized list of what will be going into storage. Have the central bank send a purchase and shipping fee to me and I will have them sent to you.
As you have not been prepared to manage property such as what you have inherited please keep in mind our family name when it comes to administering it. Every action you take reflects on the Morrows.
- Grand Duke Chorde Morrow
Solomon penned a quick response to the letter, not a hint of emotion showing on his face as he wrote down the most rote and perfunctory information necessary before signing it. It was expected that they’d send a letter to one another at least once a month, but that didn’t mean anything within it needed to actually matter.
He reached for the next letter.
Brother,
I am glad to hear that you are safe and well. I have missed your presence in the manor, but I know that you are working to create something of your own and that thought gladdens me. Things here are not all woe and misfortune. With mother and Jude moved to a separate estate on the property I rarely have to deal with whatever drama they choose to create.
Solomon chuckled at that before continuing.
I spend my days reading, eating, and waiting. My betrothed is still unable to return for us to be wed. I petitioned Chorde to consider breaking the betrothal, but he has taken father’s stance on it. I have been given permission to visit Theodosia at the capital in a few months, and hope that I might convince Chorde to allow me to visit you at your manor as well. I am waiting for him to be in a good mood. Which is to say, a mood in which the very edges of his mouth aren’t turned quite so far downward.
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There were a few ramblings on what she’d been up to, as well as some updates regarding what she’d been reading followed by simply,
Your sister, Bernice
Solomon sat with this letter for a few moments before writing his own. Putting far more sincerity and humor into this one than he had into the one he sent his brother. After he was done he placed it to the side.
Moonfallow was his primary focus, but his mind frequently turned to ways in which he could help his sister as well. His mind turned to the ritual, to magic. He would be so much more able to help her if he had that kind of power. Particularly if he looked into the more forbidden magics he’d found listed. He had already made the decision to seek them out if he did perform the ritual. He’d already be in mortal danger afterward, he may as well push things even farther. In for a copper drak, in for a gold one, as they say.
He reached for the next letters. Most of the rest of them were from the companies he’d reached out to introduce himself to when he first arrived. Most expressed polite agreeableness to future business, but promised nothing. That was expected. If they’d agreed to jump into business before he’d even detailed any plans then he wouldn’t want to work with them anyway.
At the bottom of the pile was a letter he didn’t remember receiving. It was in a yellow envelope with a return address in Etling. He carved it open and pulled the letter free.
Hello Solomon,
I am not sure that you would remember me, but a long time ago you were betrothed to my sister. I had heard of the death of your father and wished to offer my condolences. I also wanted to mention that I now have a residence here in Etling and if you wish to have a break from the more provincial life available in Moonfallow, you have an open invitation to stay with me.
Viscount James Byar
Solomon raised an eyebrow. He’d been betrothed at age eleven to a Madelaine Byar, but she’d passed when a bout of green plague had spread through the Empire. He vaguely remembered a pretty young girl with big golden eyes. He was surprised that James remembered him, as he couldn’t say the same, but he took the time to pen a thoughtful response anyway. He had few allies, and it would be unwise not to cultivate one that had reached out to him.
Shortly after he finished his correspondence there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” he called.
It was Claire, the cook, with a plate of eggs, toast, and coffee. She was a portly woman, with soft features.
“Thank you, Claire, but why are you bringing this to me yourself?” he asked. She was usually too busy preparing breakfast for everyone else to serve him.
“It’s important that you remember where the food comes from every once in a while, lord,” she said. “Too many nobles think it all emerges wholly formed from the kitchen.”
He chuckled lightly. He was a bit surprised she’d attempt humor with him, but he had been attempting to create a bit more of a relaxed atmosphere since they’d arrived. He was halfway through his breakfast when Melissa arrived.
“Good morning my lord,” she said with a bow.
“Good morning, Melissa,” he replied, carefully grabbing the bundle of letters he’d written and holding it out to her.
“Have Duncan take you into town for these and make sure they’re sent immediately.”
She nodded, taking the bundle. “Do these include…?”
“Yes. So please take extra care.”
She nodded and gave one more bow before she left the room.
Once he was done eating he did his usual round of the manor, checking on each servant and their progress, before making his way to the study. Once there he carefully unlocked the secret passage and walked down to continue his work on finding the differences between the original ritual as well as memorizing more of the spells in the Basic Spells and Foundational Magics. If he did perform the ritual he wanted to already have a basic set of spells memorized. He’d even begun gathering the more common reagents needed for spellcasting, supplementing those his Uncle had left behind. He managed to nearly finish the circle when he realized he had worked straight through lunch and it was nearing time for dinner. He pondered continuing through even longer, but his stomach rumbled and he didn’t want to inconvenience the staff who would likely be looking for him considering how long he’d been gone.
He climbed the steps back up to the exit into the study, listened for a few moments to ensure it was clear, then activated it. The knight stepped aside, and he thanked it as he always did, before he walked toward the hall. He took just a moment to inspect the work that Barnabus and Bart had been doing. It seemed that they’d managed to at least patch all the damage in the hall, but they hadn’t yet gotten past that point. It made it look as if the manor had a number of healed scars.
He was twirling his walking stick a bit as he walked, when he heard a scream.
