by P. S. Power
That said a lot, actually. He nodded and smiled at the tiny, perfect, woman.
"So you sent in Stara? Is she really a whore, or was that just part of her act for the day? Good to know she really didn't come to rob me. I felt bad about that part. Not that she did it, but that she might have come for that. We seemed to be getting along so well before that."
The woman laughed and covered it with a lace gloved hand. It was a blue gray thing, which looked really refined.
"An act. She hasn't even had professional training as a spy. Did you find her convincing that way? It's a dangerous trick to play, being unskilled. I can see it however, her doing what she did. You're lovely. More manly than your father. He, well, he looks a bit like me, if I had short hair, or at least he used to. I'm your aunt."
Which he'd already worked out. She was too pale for it to be happenstance.
Nodding a bit he waved at her.
"All right, but if I can't get Stara to help out around here, are you going to do it? I don't suppose you know how to do things like this off the top of your head, do you? Whore houses, entertainments and all that? Oh, Timon also said I should sleep with you. The bloodlines work? We should go do that now, I suppose, before I realize how wrong it would be. If you're going to tease me with girls like you did, I mean." He was playing, but instead of acting affronted the lady just nodded at him.
"Perhaps we should? Let's find a place to sit, and we can talk about that?"
It was, in all, a different conversation than he was expecting.
Chapter three
The lovely Countess, who if he wasn't being made fun of on a grand scale, a thing so large that even he had to doubt anyone would, or even could, pull off, was his aunt. That made his flirting more than a bit improper, and given that she was a Countess of Noram, and they both lived there, Dareg realized he might have made a bit of a mistake, leading her to his pod house to "talk".
On the nice side she let him stall first, getting some tea from his Tam-unit. She took hers without sugar, and didn't ask for cookies to go with it, even though he offered. That was how tea was served for the rich, he thought. With treats. Not that a person like him would have ever seen that himself. Once they were inside the small house the Countess, Tamerlane, took the only chair, and smiled at him.
Even he could see that it wasn't meant to be seductive, just friendly.
"I was asked to look in on you, by Torrance, your father. He's greatly worried that you'll be angry at him." Her words were a little stressed sounding. Not because of the situation either. It was like she was working very hard to be clear and crisp in her speaking. That changed how she was perceived a lot. Her face was much calmer however, and made up as if she were going to a grand function later.
Dare could kind of get what she was saying, but wasn't certain they were thinking the same thing.
"Mad at him? Why? Because he wasn't around when I was little?" There could be more to it than that. Like Taman had suggested, if Tor had known about him, his entire life might have been different. His mother might even be alive now. That wasn't what had happened, and even Merilee had pointed out that the man had never known about him. To her way of thinking that had just been reality, and proper given how short of a time they'd know each other. There had been no promises made. Just an accident. There would have been no way to prove that the boy she produced was his after all.
Except that these strange space living folk had ways to do that. Now, at any rate.
Tamerlane took a deep breath, and gave a short nod.
"We all should have been there for you. Gerent said that you've been living on your own for almost two years? That had to be very difficult. I... All of us really, we feel that we have to make this right. The problem is that no one can see how." Now, on those words, her gloved hands fretted and grasped each other. Her face didn't match that, being perfectly reasonable in aspect.
Dare snorted a bit.
"It isn't your responsibility to make things right for me. That's my job. I look out for me. Not that I'm not happy to find out that I have some family, but I can't imagine why any of you would want to have anything to do with some bastard. A mistake that happened because my mother's birth control failed. Not that I'm going to whine about it, because otherwise I wouldn't be here, but I can't see that you, any of you, owe me anything." He waved at the inside of his tiny pod house and leaned against the wall, a nice mug of tea in his right hand. "Look at this place. I went from living in a ruined focus stone hut, having nothing but the old clothing I picked out of the wreckage of a storm, to this. Sure, it's not the King's palace. It's solid though, and nicer than almost anyone gets in life. I have work now, too. Not that I'm getting paid for it, but I get food, and a place to stay. I also get to make up part of the rules. If that isn't a path to making things happen for me, I don't know what is. I'm doing well here."
What he didn't point out was that he'd been there for one whole night so far, two at the port, and that he might be asked to leave at any time.
If so, he could take the Tam-units, since no one else could use them, and the pod house, then set up someplace else. That would work for him. Oh, part of that would be theft, but if he vanished well enough no one would find him. With his new flight shield, he could go anywhere.
The lovely, and tiny, woman smiled then.
"Exactly what Timon said, when we spoke. He didn't think that you'd wish us to be around too much. That... It's going to be hard for a while. Everyone wants to help you, but I can see Tim has the right of this. You simply don't need us that way. You do need family, even if just to be there for you. So, I've come to invite you to dinner. Can you come?"
Dare blinked, and then shook his head a bit. Her face fell, if only a little.
"Today? I... Guess. I don't know my way around the city very well. Or how to use all the fancy silver, or anything, at a meal like that. I don't suppose I could talk you into eating here? We could have sandwiches off of plates that we balance on our laps? That sounds fun, right?" He worked to make it seem charming, instead of scared. Not that he held a lot of fear, but doing things like that were totally new to him.
His aunt cleared her throat a little. It was kind of darling really.
"I was hoping to introduce you to Tovey and the boys. Your cousins. They're both younger than you are, and probably wouldn't have a problem with your suggestion, but Toverland is..." She glanced up at the ceiling, and made a wry face. "I do not think he would fit in here very well. However, I can set things up so they won't be too uncomfortable for you, I think? Directions to our Capital house, or... Really, I can send a driver for you? In two hours or so? We normally dine at nine, here in the City. It's traditional." There was weight to the words, and a searching, almost probing examination of his reaction to them.
Which was weird. Why would this woman be doing that over her own statement.
He didn't understand it.
"I... Are you acting like that because that would get me in about two hours early, or is it about you pushing me into doing something that I clearly don't want to do?" It was her turn to be observed closely, but all the woman did was relax and smile at him.
"I was more concerned about the traditional aspect of things. When he was young that was a very large thing for Tor. If you stated that a thing was a tradition, he felt truly obligated to follow along. I take it that isn't a large concern for you?"
It really wasn't. Rather than explain that, he shrugged.
"Not so much. So, we should either get you back, so I can work for a few more hours, or start in on that sex." He flashed a grin, getting a shy expression in return. "Just so you know, I may have raised myself for a few years, but I still lived in a city. People in Canton don't really go around bothering their aunts like that, blood relations or not. Not that I won't tease about it. I think that Timon just wants to dig at Tor for some reason. I don't even know if it's fair or not. Everyone keeps acting like Tor is extra good, but then, they would around me, right?"
; That got a nod, and a suddenly subdued look.
"To the son that he never knew he had? I imagine they really would. He... Well, he is a good person, with a grand heart, and he's gone out of his way to help many people over the years. That isn't the same as being perfect however. I know that he's a bit frightened of you, for instance. For you, at the same time. What if you hate him? Even if you don't blame him for not being there for you, that doesn't mean you'll be fast friends when you meet. There are a lot of possible points of failure here, and he's smart enough to see most of them."
That got a casual shrug, then he finished his tea, and pushed off the wall he was leaning on.
"Yeah. I can see that. We won't know until we meet, I guess. I've been putting that off. I... I really do kind of feel the same way. I mean, I'm not some kind of wizard or anything, am I? Right now I'm just the Dirt Boy for the Tam-units here, and that's several steps up for me in the world. He might well hate me for not being what he dreamed of." Looking at his aunt, with her perfect clothing and hair, he sighed.
There was no good way to describe the whole thing, but Dare could see Tor feeling the same way, mighty wizard and noble that he was. What if Dareg didn't like him for those very traits? A lot of people were scared of magic, or at least those that could make it. He wasn't, but Tor couldn't know that yet. Not unless he spoke to Timon or Gerent about it. Possibly Taman.
"I'll be at Harmony soon. I leave tomorrow, and if I don't die, or miss the Moon totally, I guess I could meet him then. Or... He lives off by Mars, doesn't he? So maybe not. I... Could use the communications device, I suppose. I haven't yet." Then, Tor hadn't gotten with him either. Probably for about the same reasons.
His too pretty aunt nodded.
"You should do that. Even if you hate each other, which won't happen, you're still father and son. That means you hold some responsibility for the other, each in turn." She stood up, but carried her heavy mug with her as she went to the door.
Dare followed along, since it was kind of clear that she was done with him for the time being. Her face turned back into a smile, which looked a lot like the one that the Tam-unit often showed him on its window.
"So, in two hours? Casual dress, since it will just be family. A suit, but it doesn't have to be fine. It's at a Count's home, so keep that in mind. Do make that call to Tor? It's better to pull the sticking bandage off quickly, than to labor over it."
That was a thing that he knew well, from over the years. Taking her cup for reuse, he watched her leave in the little blue and pink Tam-car. When she vanished into the city, going through the gate in the distance he moved to the blue box and placed the mugs in her.
"So, I have a meal with Countess Thomson. I don't suppose you know how to dress for that kind of thing?"
The box came back at him instantly with a happy, girlish face. She really did look a bit like the Countess had.
"Not a clue. You should call in expert help for that. You know Prince Gerent well enough to bother him that way now. Hmmm. Taman, too. I've never heard anyone speak of Tim Baker as being particularly well dressed however. Now, the go-to stylist for magical clothing is Petra Lairdgren. Handily enough, you're related to her by marriage, so it would be suitable for you to contact her on the subject."
Because that made any kind of sense? Still, it was that or try to make up something on his own, and he wasn't really certain that was possible on a few hours notice. What he could do was shower again first, so he wouldn't smell like trash and dust. Worse things too, since a lot of the dried waste was a bit more ripe than just dirt.
Then he dressed in his normal clothing again, got his communications device out, and found the right name, scrolling through the thousands of options. It took a while, but after ten minutes or so he got it. Petra Ward. Her name from before she was married.
Tapping it, he waited, expecting to be yelled at for some reason. Instead a nice looking dark skinned lady answered, and smiled at him. She had a nice straight nose, and a lean face. It was a bit professional seeming at the moment, but still better than being ordered off the link.
"Hello, Petra Lairdgren here."
"Hello! I... I'm Dareg Canton? I'm due at a meal in the Capital in a few hours, with my Aunt, Countess Thomson. I have no clue how to dress for that? She said it was casual, but that means a suit, if not a nice one?" He waited, a bit worried about her reaction.
Rather than seeming annoyed, the woman just nodded, very seriously at him.
"Understood. I can come to you in about an hour. I have a fast craft on me. Or... How experienced are you with the clothing device?" It was telling that she assumed he had one of those. Looking down he thought he understood it however. His shirt wasn't just clean, but brand new looking, and perfect. There was nothing about it that wasn't straight and aligned. Also, there was no stitching on it. The tunic, what would be visible to her, was without anything like that. The High Servants wore their clothing that way, so he'd copied it, but thinking back he realized that Gerent's outfits hadn't. The base brown clothing in the unit didn't either. It looked new, but more real.
"Not a lot. Gerent... Prince Gerent? Gave me this yesterday. So I can do what I'm wearing now, the base outfit, since that just appears, and possibly repeat what he'd been wearing?"
Instead of insisting she run to him, being helpless as he was, the woman smiled.
"Let's see that one then? What Gerent had on." The words were a bit hard, but after closing his eyes and remembering the outfit, which had been green and black, with shiny black boots, the woman made a happy noise.
"Not bad! We can work with that then. You'd be surprised at how many people can't put on a pair of trousers and a jacket. Now, you look like you have a good enough build. Can you move it in at the waist?" She said it like it might be hard, but it really wasn't.
All Dare had to do was imagine what he wanted, and the thing did it pretty well. There were a few false starts, and he had to change the color of the whole thing several times before the woman, Petra, was happy with it, but that was probably part of why she was the go to stylist for new outfits.
What he ended up in was a drab gray thing, with a white shirt underneath, and black shoes that did look polished, but weren't as much so as all that.
The lady even explained the why of it all for him, which was helpful.
"Terlee said you were supposed to be casual. That means you can't go in dressed better than the Count will be. He should, for a meal like this, be in a house uniform. Not dressy really, and in his colors, which are blue and black, I think. So, if you showed up in bright colors, wearing silks and satins, it would be claiming you were better than he is. This is a compromise, to be honest. The cut of what you are wearing looks tailored to you. That was the bit where we did all those adjustments. Almost no one can do that without help, so it's special, even with magical clothes. To that end, we go with a rather bland color. Even if you look good, that will tell them all that you aren't trying too hard to get that done." She used the gesture she had before when asking him to move the unit in his hand away from himself, so she could see him. "You need to do your hair. It's decently straight, and too long if you get into a fight, but fine for a noble right now, style wise. You should have it cut off, of course. Like mine?"
She really did have short hair, being about an inch from her scalp. The thing there was that he simply couldn't afford to go to a barber, and hadn't been able to for years. Instead of complaining to her about that, he nodded. It was a point.
"That might be a while, before I can get that done. I can probably get a comb." It had been in the list of things that Tam-unit had said she could do, he thought.
Petra smiled at him.
"Do that. Then tie it back in a tail. You can do that using your clothing amulet, I bet. Not everyone can, but if you can do what you did earlier, then you have that much skill already. We should talk. About what you have planned and all that? It will come up at the meal, since the Thomsons don't know you yet. It can be a little tricky, s
ince they might well offer to send you to school, or something like that. Not that you can't say yes, but if you go in with plans of your own, it will look less like you're trying to beg from them. I've been the poor relative, so I know how that one goes."
Then, for nearly an hour, Petra, a woman that he'd called up out of the blue, coached him about what he was supposed to say, and more importantly not say, at the meal. When she finally got off the thing he had just enough time to run and get Tam-unit to make that comb for him, and a hairbrush at the device's insistence, and then use the mirror in his restroom to try and get his hair held back. The whole thing hurt, as he had to rip out more than a bit of fluff from his head to make it all work in time.
It was the first time in over a year that anything had been run through his hair other than his fingers, so that was just going to happen. There was no blood, so he was happy enough with it in the end. Then, not knowing the exact timing of things, he went and stood on his front stoop. It wasn't a real one, the pod house not being set up that way, but it was a place to be that didn't involve sitting in the dirt.
To that end he was able to see what came for him, long before it arrived.
There, between the two streams of water, glinting in the approaching twilight, was a real, honest to goodness, coach and four. Thankfully the focus stone road was both smooth and dry, since that had to be hard on the hooves and wooden wheels as it was. For some reason he'd kind of been expecting a Tam-car to come for him, but this was a lot nicer in some ways. Not magical, but refined enough to be impressive. That was, he understood, the real point.
Now he just had to figure out why. Were the Count and Countess Thomson trying to impress him with their wealth and power? To show him how much more they had than he did, which would put him firmly in his place? That was one possible option. Another was that they had a carriage around, and it was cheaper to use than sending a fine magical vehicle. In that case it would be saying that he mattered to them, but not as much as all that.