by Frank David
“Does Brett know?” Harris asked.
“Shortly after you left for the tournament, a man paid us a visit. We had never seen him before. He told us that you would discover your true father at the tournament. He said we needed to tell Brett before he heard the rumors,” Mary said, forcing a fake smile to console her son.
“Did this man tell you his name, mother?” Harris asked. He didn’t need an answer. He knew Braynard had visited.
“No. He never gave his name. He simply said he was a friend who did not wish to see any of us hurt by the truth,” Mary paused.
Before she could begin speaking again, the door opened.
“Whose horse is tied up out front?” the haggard man asked, not looking at his son seated at the table. The younger Morrison entered behind his father.
Greg’s eyes grew wide and sparkled as he took notice of his oldest boy sitting at the table with his wife.
“Son, you have returned!” he exclaimed. His joy could not be contained.
Harris stood to greet his father who threw his arms around the young man and hugged him tight.
“Father, I have missed you,” Harris smiled, as he ended the embrace.
“Your Grace,” his brother said with a laugh.
“Yes, I forgot. My son is an Imperial now,” Greg said with a smile though it did not hide the pain he felt.
“I am still just your son, father,” Harris said trying to reassure his father. “Frederick may be my father by blood, but you are my father by action and nothing will change that.”
Greg ran his hand through his gray hair, taken off guard by his son’s complement. “Your real father is a good man and you should be proud, Harris,” Greg said, his blue eyes gaining a red tint as he fought back the tears.
“You are correct. My father is a good man and I have always been proud to call you, father.” Harris put his hand on his father’s shoulder. “I would never call Frederick father for he was not that man that taught me what it is to be a man. That man is you and you will always be my father.”
“Enough,” Greg said wiping his eyes. “We want to hear all about your adventures. We heard you helped to train the Empress.”
“I did. Since the tournaments, my life has been more than I could have ever imagined. I have been accepted as an equal by those of the Imperial court,” Harris paused. He needed to tell them about his engagement. He was not sure how they would take the news. “There is more. Please sit.”
The three sat. Harris’ tone made it seem important and Mary worried.
“Much happened after I left. I met my half-sister on my journey to Jascaessau. Of course, at the time I had no idea of our connection. We travelled together, and she found us lodging in Helmsley with her cousin, an Imperial Grand Duke. We faced each other in the ring but the Empress stopped our battle when she realized neither of us was to win.” Harris looked at Brett. His younger brother was mesmerized and the story was not even that exciting yet. “We both received positions on the Imperial Guard.”
“That is wonderful,” Mary interrupted. “You met and became friends with your sister.”
“I would not say we were friends, mother. She detested me. However, when her father claimed me and made me his heir, her hatred for me subsided.” Harris laughed, reminded of the conflict between them, which was now gone. He believed it was due to Sofia.
“I traveled with the Empress and a few other Imperials to Frostmoor Palace to prepare her for what was coming.” Harris smiled. “I was honored to be with them and to work with Stela,” he stopped as he caught himself. He had used such an informal address, surely his family would notice.
“Our son, on a first name basis with our Empress,” Greg beamed with pride as he said the words. “What is she like?”
“She is a complex woman, father,” Harris chuckled at the understatement.
“They all are,” Greg added, looking at his wife with a smile.
“She wants me to bring you all to Jascaessau. She wishes to meet you.” Harris surveyed the three not sure they would agree.
“Why would she want to meet us?” Mary asked. “We are simple peasants.”
“She wants to meet her future in-laws,” Harris paused after making the announcement.
The three sat at the table unsure of what to say. Their son left a penniless peasant but has returned to them as the future Emperor Consort of Hulsteria. His mother’s eyes let him know she was worried.
“I believe it was the same man that visited you who informed Stela and I we were to be married,” Harris said, not sure they would believe him. “The man is a Scientia. Part of an order of mystics. He has the gift of visions. He said he saw us married. Stela and I have learned to not question what he says or sees.”
“I understand you are the son of an Imperial Grand Archduke, but you were still raised a peasant. Is the Empress not worried about what the people will say?” Greg was quick to say what the others thought.
“She is not. When you meet her, please do not ask her that,” he laughed, knowing her reaction would not be the same toward his father, but he still needed to warn him. “When we arrive in Jascaessau, you will be presented to her in court. After that you will have time to get to know her on a more personal level.”
“I do not have the clothes to meet the Empress.” Mary stood quickly, pacing around the room. She had few dresses and none were suitable for court. She was a gifted seamstress if only she had the fabric and time to create something.
“Do not worry about clothes. We will travel to Augustus and purchase you many fine things. We will purchase you all many fine new outfits.” He smiled as he threw the bag of coins on the table. “I do not want for anything and neither will you from this day forward.”
“Harris, I cannot allow you to spend your money so foolishly.” Greg’s pride was instantly injured.
“If I cannot share my fortune with my family, what is the point?” Harris knelt to face his father. “You have given me so much. More than money could buy. Allow me to repay you. You had no obligation to me, but you have always treated me as if I were your own.”
“Yeah, he treated you better than he ever treated me,” Brett was quick to add.
“Perhaps if you had been born with Imperial blood, he would have been better to you. Instead you were born a simple brat,” Harris laughed as he messed his brother’s brown curls. “If you behave, maybe we can find you a bride in court.” Brett’s blue eyes lit up at the mention of a bride. He was 16, soon to be 17, and ready to be married and independent of his parents.
“My brother may be Emperor Consort, but I will still be a simple peasant. No lady in court would have me,” he said, his voice reflecting his disappointment.
“That may not be entirely true,” Harris said. “Stela would like to bestow a title on you, father.”
“I am not deserving of such an honor,” Greg said, his head down as he spoke the words.
“Stela disagrees. She believes any man capable of raising such a fine young man is more than deserving. Those are her words, not mine,” he laughed, fearing they may believe his confidence too great.
“Oh Greg, you with a title!” Mary could barely contain her excitement.
“That does little for me,” Brett commented. “You are the oldest son, therefore his heir.”
“You are sounding like a brat, Brett,” Harris quickly responded. “Father can name you his heir. I have been named heir of an Imperial Grand Archduchy. Father’s title should be yours.”
“Really?” Brett’s eyes glowed at the possibility. “What title does she wish to give father? Will he be a Duke or a Marques?”
“When we spoke, Stela wanted to give father the title that was held by her cousin, Rupert. He was Imperial Archduke of Carlisle,” Harris said, seeing his brother’s jaw drop at the announcement.
“An Imperial?” Greg asked, barely able to get the words out. “I am too old for such a responsibility.”
“You are not, Your Imperial Grace.” Mary responded w
ith a curtsey. The four broke out in laughter.
“I will head to Augustus. I wish to speak with Frederick,” Harris said as he stood to leave. “Meet me there tomorrow. Come to Dunmere Palace. From there we will head into town and purchase you all a new wardrobe.” He walked over and kissed his mother on the forehead. “I will let Frederick know you will be leaving Raamsfeld to take up residence in Jascaessau.”
Harris mounted his horse as he bid farewell to his family. He was headed off to meet his other father. He worried about how Frederick’s wife and his other daughter would accept him. Either way he was officially Frederick’s heir, so he was sure they would be cordial.
****
The ride was long, but he arrived at the palace just as the sun was setting over the Anchead Sea, which bordered Augustus to the west. The guard stopped him as he approached the gate.
“Greetings,” the guard addressed him. “What business do you have with His Imperial Royal Highness?”
“I am Harris Morrison, son of the Imperial Grand Archduke of Raamsfeld,” Harris replied. It was the first time he had used his title. It felt odd. He realized now why Felicia used it as she did. It commanded a certain amount of power.
“One moment, Your Imperial Grace.” The guard vanished behind the palace gates. The doors to the courtyard opened and Harris was led in by the guard.
“I am sorry I did not recognize you, Lord Morrison,” the guard apologized.
“I would not expect you to recognize me,” Harris laughed. Never had anyone apologized to him with such respect.
“Lord and Lady Lester are in the dining hall preparing for their supper. The footman will take you to them.” The guard pointed to the man waiting for Harris at the entrance to the palace. “I will have your horse tended to, my Lord.” The guard bowed as Harris headed to meet the man waiting for him.
“Lord Morrison,” the footman greeted him. “Please follow me.”
Harris followed. He looked about the hall as the footman guided him to his father. The walls were covered with what appeared to be expensive paintings. Suits of armor flanked the expansive fireplace in the large hall.
The footman stopped in front of a large set of doors. “Please wait here while I announce you.” The footman opened the door and stepped inside. “His Imperial Royal Highness, Imperial Grand Archduke of Raamsfeld, the younger, Harris Morrison.”
Harris entered the room to see his new family seated at the table enjoying their dinner.
Frederick quickly jumped to his feet and rushed over to greet his son.
“Harris, what an unexpected pleasure,” Frederick said as he shook the man’s hand.
“Thank you, sir.” Harris blushed at the attention. “Lady Elizabeth. Lady Samantha,” he greeted his stepmother and half-sister with a bow. The stares he received let him know that neither approved of his being there.
“Harris, what brings you to Dunmere?” Lady Elizabeth asked. She did not attempt to hide her contempt at his arrival.
“I was visiting my parents in Moffat. I thought I would visit you as well while I was here.” Harris ignored the glares he was receiving. “I am sure you have heard I am to be Emperor Consort. I came to share the news with my family.”
“Yes, we had heard the Empress suffered a breakdown after facing Edmund,” Samantha responded. “That explains why should would make such a decision.”
“Samantha!” Frederick scolded. “Harris is your brother and heir to my title. You will show him the respect he deserves.” Frederick led Harris to a seat. “Bring a setting for our guest.” Frederick directed the footman who quickly rushed off to attend to the request.
“That is why I am here, Frederick,” Harris began.
“Will you consider calling me father?” Frederick asked.
“Perhaps one day but I feel it would betray the man who raised me. I hope you can understand,” Harris said compassionately.
“Of course.” Frederick was visibly hurt by the words.
“As I am to be Emperor Consort, I feel I can no longer be your heir.” He looked at Elizabeth who was suddenly interested in what he had to say.
“Many who marry and receive new titles still maintain the titles of their family.” Frederick’s smile diminished.
“I believe my duties as Stela’s husband will keep me quite busy. The title should go to someone who has been groomed to fill the position.” He looked at Samantha. Her smile was unbridled. “It is obvious that Felicia has no interest in the title, but I do believe Samantha would be more than happy to be your heir.”
“I believe Harris makes a valid point, Frederick.” Elizabeth’s smile pleased Harris. “The duties of Emperor Consort will keep him away from Raamsfeld. He would never have the chance to learn all he must to rule it properly.”
“The decision is mine to make. You were never able to give me a son, Elizabeth.” His comment caught them all by surprise. “I have claimed my bastard son. He will have my title when I pass.”
“Father, he was raised as a commoner.” Samantha gave Harris a look that let him know she meant no offense. “He does not know what it takes to fill your shoes.”
“Being a commoner is what makes him perfect.” Frederick glared at his daughter. He was sure she was trying to offend her brother. “Who better understands the people than one of their own?”
“That is exactly what makes him a poor choice,” Elizabeth added. “Can he discipline the people should the need arise? Will he do what is in the best interest of the kingdom and realm? Or will he do what is best for the people?”
“I do not wish to hold your title,” Harris said, becoming annoyed with the argument. “If you will not release me from your peerage, I will have Stela order you to do so.” Harris did not like using Stela in this way. He knew as long as he was Frederick’s heir he would have issues with his stepmother and half-sister. He did not wish to begin as Emperor Consort with such high-ranking enemies. They would surely be a problem.
“If this is what you wish, son. Allow me time to consider your request,” Frederick said with pain in his voice. “Was there anything else you wished to discuss? If not, we should get back to finishing our supper. You will stay the night, will you not?”
“My parents and brother will be leaving Raamsfeld.” Harris was not sure how Frederick would take the news. “Stela wishes to grant them a title and have them live in Jascaessau.”
“I see.” Frederick’s face showed his displeasure. “Well, I will need to find someone else to tend your father’s land.”
“Your parents are being given a title?” Elizabeth could not contain the anger in her question. “Because their son has bewitched the Empress, your whore mother gets a title?”
“Lady Elizabeth, I would kindly ask that you refrain from such words when referring to the mother of the future Emperor Consort.” The determination in his voice sent a clear message to his stepmother. “You may not like my mother, but you will respect her when she receives her title.”
“I am sorry, Harris.” Elizabeth could not bring her eyes to meet his.
“When they arrive tomorrow, I will expect you to treat my mother with the grace of a lady of your title,” Harris added.
“They are coming to Dunmere?” Frederick was surprised. He had not seen Mary since she left their service when Harris was but a boy.
“Yes, I am taking them into town to buy them all new wardrobes. The clothes they own are not fit for an audience with the Empress.” Harris lowered his eyes, admitting his family was poor.
“Very well. We will welcome them to Dunmere with open arms.” Frederick looked at Elizabeth with a raised brow.
“Yes, they will be our honored guests.” Elizabeth returned the glare. “Perhaps we should organize a dinner in their honor. We could invite all the Imperials and Royals of Keith. It would be their introduction to Imperial life.” Elizabeth hoped the dinner would prove that the family was unfit for the life they were being given.
“That is a fine idea, mother,” Samantha s
aid, knowing her mother’s intentions.
“Send word to the others immediately, Elizabeth,” Frederick gave his wife the command.
“I do not think that is necessary. My parents would not wish to have such an affair in their honor,” Harris’s brow frowned. His parents were simple people. They were not accustomed to such things.
“If they are to have a title, such affairs will be very common in their near future,” Elizabeth said, her smile making Harris uneasy.
“It is settled. Tomorrow you will take your parents shopping. You will all stay at Dunmere. We will have a fine banquet in two days to celebrate my son’s engagement and present his parents to the court of Raamsfeld.” Frederick’s face beamed with pride, unaware of his wife’s intentions. “Elizabeth, I leave the preparations in your capable hands.”
“Of course, my Lord,” Elizabeth said with crooked smile.
Chapter Seven – Mary and Greg
Mary had spent far too long getting ready. She wanted to look her best for fear she might embarrass Harris. She labored over her hair, trying to get each strand in its proper place. Once she was satisfied, she joined her husband and son out by the old wagon that would take them to Augustus.
“It is about time woman. We are not meeting the Empress today,” Greg laughed as he helped his wife onto the wagon.
“We will be seeing the Imperial Archduke and Duchess,” she said as she looked at her men. They were dressed in the best suits they had, though that was not saying much.
“You worked in that palace for years. They know what you look like. They do not expect much from us anyway, I am sure,” Greg said as he took his seat at the reigns. “Are you in, boy?” he called to Brett.
“Yes, father,” Brett replied, trying to get comfortable among the hay in the back of the wagon.
Greg had selected two of his fastest horses to pull the wagon. The trip to Augustus was long. Taking the wagon would slow them, but they should arrive within several hours.