“To the future,” echoed the room.
After the toast the room broke apart in dozens of little conversations as they were served the evening’s meal. As most of the people in the room ate, Octavia turned to Drake and Falcon.
“After eating, you two will need to mingle on your own while I handle your brother,” said Octavia.
“As you wish,” said Drake. Falcon nodded agreement.
“Don’t rush through conversation, but don’t dawdle. Later, we’ll open the stairs. You two will meet me on the balcony as soon as that happens,” said Octavia.
“Yes mother, you’ve drilled this more than our professors. We know the itinerary,” said Drake.
“You’ll thank me later. Don’t accept any proposal, and if you are interested, try not to seem eager,” said Octavia.
“Yes mother. We’ve got it,” said Drake.
Dominick leaned over to Drake and Falcon.
“Just let them talk and try to have fun,” said Dominick. They nodded agreement and got up to start mingling. Falcon looked around the room and realized two things. First, that there were dozens of young men and women receiving advice from parents, like Dominick gave them. Second, he realized that he was the only person not being escorted by his parents.
As Falcon started moving away Rocious came over to him with his serving girl a step behind. “Mind if I tag along?”
“Not at all,” said Falcon.
“Girl, another brandy,” said Rocious.
Falcon put up his hand, “That’s alright Claire, no brandy for me.”
Claire produced a cup but stopped before filling it, “Nonsense, pour him one,” said Rocious.
Claire hesitated until Falcon nodded then she filled the cup. She leaned in to hand it to him and whispered, “Thank you.” Falcon smiled.
“You’ll be thanking me when Connelly corners you. So what are we supposed to do exactly?” asked Rocious.
Falcon rolled his eyes, “Follow me.”
Falcon made his way around the room methodically chatting with each of the noble families. He gave each time for introductions and answering a few of their questions, but moved onto the next quickly. The conversations were mostly repetitive, but he had been doing this for a long time and danced the dance easily. He started to get a little annoyed by the girls who were too nervous to look him in the eye. Then he remembered how intimidating Rocious could be. The thought shook him, were they shy or was he intimidating to talk to? He certainly did not intend to scare anyone.
Rocious on the other hand became annoyed after the first conversation. He was a famous master of the path, but he hated discussing it. Octavia’s plan worked perfectly: almost everyone was interested in Falcon’s tutelage to the great Praetorian Lockland. The only problem was that Rocious hated small talk.
In the middle of a conversation about travelling with Duchess Camilla, Rocious ducked behind Falcon. He drained the last of his brandy then whispered in Falcon’s ear, “Connelly’s headed this way, time to move.”
Falcon gave the room a quick scan. When he turned back Rocious was already gone.
“Since this is your daughter’s first trip to Dominion, why don’t we get a better view of the city?” suggested Falcon.
Camilla moved close to Falcon and took his arm, “Such a gentleman. I may need to claim you for myself.”
“Actually, I was hoping to speak with the Prince before it got too late,” said Camilla’s daughter Hadriana.
“Perfect, come with me and I’ll introduce you,” said Falcon offering his other arm.
When he scanned the room earlier he noticed the stairs were being opened. Falcon led the two women to the closest staircase and away from Connelly. Few people had even realized the stairs were open, and they were the first to actually use them. Across the hall Falcon noticed Octavia shoving Fafnir up the stairs, and Drake close behind.
“Has anyone told you that you have the most beautiful blue eyes?” asked Camilla.
“Thank you,” said Falcon.
“My sisters would be so jealous if they saw me with those eyes,” said Camilla with a wink.
“Please mother, your flirting is offensive,” said Hadriana.
“Harmless banter,” said Falcon. “But if you want to see offensive, watch Master Lockland. He thought Baron Leonide was his wife’s grandfather and suggested he set her free,” said Falcon.
Camilla and her daughter both laughed.
“No, I’m serious,” said Falcon.
“Ha, well, he’s probably right,” said Camilla.
“She does look like she’s going to be sick when she looks at him,” agreed Hadriana.
“I’ll bet half the girls here will end up in similar situations,” said Camilla.
Falcon missed a step but Duchess Camilla kept him from falling, “You seem surprised?” she asked.
“I thought the party was about forming ties for the next generation,” said Falcon.
“It is but marriage isn’t about happiness, it’s about money and power. Mara is the youngest of three daughters so her greatest value to her family is creating a wealthy ally through marriage. Baron Leonide is a bit old and fat for my taste, but he’s kind and wealthy. Her father found a good deal for her,” said Camilla.
“There are certainly worse options out there,” said Hadriana.
Camilla squeezed Falcon’s arm, “And much better ones,” said Camilla as they reached the top of the steps. Falcon led them to the veranda then stopped to glance at the other staircase for Drake.
Drake reached the top of the stairs, “Speaking of which, I’ll be right back.”
All evening Falcon was supposed to be on the look out for a potential bride, but the only girl he thought was perfect was Hadriana. Not for himself, but for Drake. They both had a passion for history and a quick wit. Not to mention she was gorgeous, maybe a little scandalous like her mother, but that could be chalked up to Antioch’s liberal culture.
Drake saw Falcon and met him halfway, “You survived.”
“So did you, plus I found the perfect girl for you,” said Falcon.
“Please don’t say Secundus’s daughter,” said Drake.
“And get involved with that criminal? Hell no. Seriously, let me introduce you,” said Falcon.
Octavia came rushing across the balcony, “There you two are. Come here.”
Drake took her arm and pulled her aside, “What’s wrong?”
“Count Grey is throwing a fit demanding to see your brother. He says Fafnir insulted his daughter,” said Octavia.
“Tell father, let him handle it,” said Drake.
“Your father disappeared. I haven’t seen him since his speech,” said Octavia.
“What about Samuel? He should know what to do,” said Drake.
“Wait. I know what this is about. I’ll handle Count Grey, just do me a favor,” said Falcon.
“What is it?” said Drake and Octavia in unison.
Falcon leaned over the railing to get a better look, “Go talk to Hadriana Antioch, she’s on the balcony.”
Drake’s eyebrows shot up, “That’s who you think is perfect for me?”
Octavia shook her head, “Her mother’s a harlot, there’s no way I’m approving that match.”
Falcon shrugged and turned for the stairs, “That’s the deal.”
Falcon went down a few steps and leaned over the railing again searching for Count Grey. He caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. Count Grey was pushing his way up the adjacent staircase.
Falcon spun on his heel and bounded up the stairs, two at a time. When he got to the top he took a few quick steps and slowed his pace so he would reach the top of the stairs at the same time as Count Grey. Right before he got there, Octavia stepped between him and Count Grey.
Count Grey was tall and muscular, even from two steps down he looked down at Octavia, “Move woman. This is between me and the boy.”
Octavia put her hands on her hip and looked him in the eye, “It’s Queen
Octavia, and that boy is Prince Fafnir.”
“This got nothing to do with titles, move or I move you,” said Count Grey.
“Your daughter is malicious harpy. All my son did is give her some long overdue honesty.”
Before Count Grey could reply Falcon placed his hand on Octavia’s shoulder and gently moved her to the side.
Falcon was shorter than Count Grey but with the steps he matched his eye easily, “Count Grey, may I call you Atilius?”
Atilius climbed the last two steps and looked down at Falcon, “You Reed’s boy? Step aside, this is a matter of honor has nothing to do with you.”
“Yes, call me Falcon. But I’m afraid I won’t step aside Atilius. Not until this matter is settled,” said Falcon.
“Get me the boy and I’ll settle it,” said Atilius.
“Fafnir is probably passed out, so honor will have to wait until morning,” said Falcon.
“Where’s his father, or his brother? They’ll have to man up,” asked Atilius.
“If it must be settled tonight, I’m here,” said Falcon.
Atilius poked Falcon in the chest, “I respected your father. For his sake I’ll forget you said that. Now get the boy.”
All emotion drained from Falcon’s face, “Perhaps you did not hear me.”
“I heard ya boy. You ain’t your father. Don’t meddle in matters you don’t understand,” said Atilius.
Falcon stepped back to make room on the balcony, “My father respected you. He would have talked you out of this. But as you said, I am not my father.”
Atilius moved across the balcony pushing people to make room, “I’ll be glad to beat the stupid out of you.”
“You can try,” said Falcon rolling up his sleeves.
“That cockiness is gonna get you killed,” said Atilius as he took off his cloak and necklace, handed it to one of his daughters and rolled up his sleeves.
Falcon removed his cloak and medallion, “Not today.”
He turned to hand it to Octavia, but in her place was Aemilia Grey alongside the rest of her sisters. Falcon flashed a smirk and tossed his cloak and medallion at her.
“Thanks,” said Falcon turning to face Count Grey.
Like most northerners Count Grey was a large muscular man, but he moved with a gracefulness that was uncommon in men his size. Regardless, Falcon knew he would never beat Count Grey with brute strength, not that he had much to begin with.
Falcon had a very different type of strength, one that came from countless hours hammering away in a forge and training for hours with Decimus every day. His strength was far more economical. He could not end a fight with one punch like Count Grey, but he could punch a thousand times in a fight after running twenty miles. One punch or a thousand, none of it mattered because Falcon had an advantage that Atilius could never defeat. He had magic.
Falcon took an athletic stance, “Ready?”
Atilius cracked his neck and put his fists up, “Yeah.”
Atilius paced steadily forward with his hands up like a boxer. Falcon noticed right away that Atilius was like a ram. He would constantly push closer. He ended fights fast, by never giving his opponent time to breathe. There was little chance of standing directly against him. Falcon dodged left, but Atilius expected it. Atilius adjusted and jabbed again, but Falcon kept his hands up and spun to the right, putting himself behind Atilius. Falcon poked him in the back of the head and hopped backwards to avoid the arm Atilius swung as he turned.
Again Atilius rushed in like a ram, this time Falcon stood his ground. Atilius threw a barrage of punches. Falcon swatted them aside or bobbed his head, never moving his feet. Once he saw frustration bloom on Atilius’s face, he blocked a punch with his left hand and simultaneously tapped Atilius in the face with his right hand. Frustration became rage and Atilius lunged only to have Falcon side step out of the way.
Atilius recovered and took a moment to control his rage and center himself. When Atilius came at him this time, Falcon dropped his hands and closed his eyes. Atilius punched him square in the face breaking his nose. A second punch bent him over and opened a cut above his right eye. A knee to the face knocked out a tooth and rocked him back. Atilius followed up with a punch to the stomach. Another punch further opened the cut above his eye and knocked Falcon to the ground. As Falcon pushed himself up, Atilius stepped forward and kicked him across the face. His head snapped back and he flipped onto his back. Falcon coughed out a mouthful of blood and spit out a tooth.
Falcon rolled onto his stomach and picked himself up. Atilius looked at him, there was no longer rage in his eyes.
As Falcon stood up straight, Atilius dropped his hands and his forehead wrinkled, “What the fuck?”
Falcon watched Atilius’s eyes widen and heard gasps from the crowd as he healed himself. His broken nose cracked back into place and his cuts sealed themselves shut. In a few seconds he healed from a beating that would take most men weeks. Atilius looked down at his own hands, he had opened up several cuts on his knuckles and Falcon suspected a couple broken bones.
“Are we done?” asked Falcon.
“Aye, it’s done. I still mean to speak with the king’s boy in the morning,” said Atilius.
Falcon suddenly realized everyone was staring at him. Luckily Atilius came over, put his arm around his shoulder and the crowd turned their attention away.
“Come have a drink with me,” said Atilius dragging Falcon down the stairs.
“You just kicked the shit out of me, and now you want to drink?” asked Falcon.
“Fight’s done, no hard feelings. A few drinks will numb the pain,” said Atilius.
“I’m not much of a drinker. And I’m not in pain,” said Falcon.
“Bah, you just need practice. And the pain’s mine, I broke my damn hand on your hard head,” said Atilius.
“One drink, but let me heal your hand first,” said Falcon.
“You can do that? Two drinks and it’s a deal,” said Atilius.
Rocious watched the nobles enjoying the party, all of them so focused on impressing each other. It made him sick looking at all of them – pompous twits dressed in their rich clothes and covered in jewelry. Several times he considered burning the damn place down. At least he still had a few bottles of blackberry brandy to get him through the party. Octavia even gave him his own serving girl to keep his cup full, probably so he would not drink straight from the bottle.
“Are you even listening?” asked Connelly.
Connelly had finally tracked him down and wasted no time jumping into some lecture about the latest healing techniques. Rocious stopped listening as soon as he realized Connelly was trying to pull him into a debate about the importance of numbing a victim before attempting to heal them.
“Why are you still talking after I told you I don’t care? Find someone else to show off your knowledge to,” said Rocious taking another sip of brandy.
“Falcon will be tested on these whether you like it or not. Your bravado isn’t going to prepare him but I can,” said Connelly.
“If I went and sliced open his stomach right now would you shut the fuck up?” asked Rocious.
“That’s hardly necessary, no student is expected to heal such severe wounds,” said Connelly.
“Then I don’t care. Falcon can handle it,” said Rocious.
“I’m only telling you the standards we hold at my academy, and your boasting about his abilities will only make you look foolish,” said Connelly.
“Let’s not kid ourselves, the only fool here is you,” said Rocious.
“I won’t be the fool when your student doesn’t even know the wounds he’s expected to heal. For Falcon’s sake let me train the boy until the other masters arrive,” said Connelly.
“No,” said Rocious.
“Then why were you so hesitant to allow him to test?” asked Connelly.
“How many times do I need to say it? Piss off!” said Rocious.
“It has been a long time since you took part in t
he tests and we increase the difficulty every year,” said Connelly.
Rocious finished his glass and leaned closer to Connelly, “Alright, answer one question. If you say yes, you can train Falcon all you want.” Rocious put out his hand, “Deal?” he asked.
Connelly looked down at his hand then looked up, “What’s the question?”
“Do any of your classes involve healing infections?” asked Rocious.
“Of course not. What sort of question is that?” asked Connelly.
“No, what’s ridiculous is that you think your students are prepared. Most people die from infections even after being healed,” said Rocious as he got up to escape.
As he was about to leave he stopped cold at the sight of Duke Eikard across the hall. He had to find Dominick.
“You would have me risk my students’ lives? It’s reckless,” said Connelly.
“Do what you want, but don’t act like you’re preparing them for what they’ll face in the real world,” said Rocious as he slipped away.
Connelly jumped up to follow him, clearly not finished with the conversation, but he bumped into the serving girl carrying Rocious’s brandy. Rocious wasted no time using the distraction to get away from Connelly.
After the fight, Falcon and Atilius swapped stories and drank. As they traded jokes and laughed, Falcon realized he really liked the people of Stormhelm. They were similar in some ways to his people. Not in that they fought and drank, but because they never hid their emotions. It was refreshing in a strange way. With Atilius you never had to wonder if you offended him; you knew right away. His expressive nature also made him a great storyteller. At the moment he was telling Falcon about the time Lord Cumberland’s daughter beat the snot out of him.
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