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LLOTF - Chapter 23: Guardsmen and a sister's visit
🕑 Added 2024-12-07 19:58:44 +0000 UTCThe meal was just as scrumptious as he remembered, and Gertrude made huge portions. Tristan scarfed down plate after plate, filling himself up past being full because the flavor was just so good.
“Not surprising,” she said as she cleaned down the table. “You’ve had horrible food during your travels, I imagine.”
Tristan nodded and swirled the watered-down wine in his cup. “Yes. Sometimes, I traded some manual labor for a warm meal. But a lot of nuts and dried fruit.”
“Ah, young master, too bad your constitution is too delicate for jerky.”
Tristan chuckled and sipped the wine, “I agree.”
“Well, would you like anything else?”
“I’m good. Thank you, Gertrude. Tell me; who else is still employed here at the townhouse?”
She put her hands on her ample hips and frowned, “Well, we lost Kendra when your sister married off – she went to work with her new family. Then you have Marlowe,” she said his name with disgust, “who has just clung around thanks to your father.” She tapped her temple, “Your father hired a new maid named Theresa when Kendra left – but she is off today.”
Tristan finished his wine and stood up, walking over to Gertrude and giving her a side-shoulder hug. “Thanks for everything.”
“Of course, young master.” She took the empty glass from him. “If you have nothing else, I’d like to head home early.”
“By all means,” Tristan replied. “Please lock up behind yourself.”
“Always. I’ll be in first thing tomorrow. Fresh eggs for your breakfast?”
Tristan smiled, “Yes, please. You know how I like them-”
“Slathered in butter and fried to perfection.” She chuckled and gave him a slap on the back – a gentle one, but given her massive size compared to him, he stumbled forward. “Good night, master Tristan.”
Tristan gave her a wave and went towards the stairs, but stopped. I should check the front yard and see what can be done to fix it up. Heading to the door, he went outside into the yard. The tall walls on the exterior blocked sight perfectly, but past the large, wooden door he heard the clanking of armor. Going to the object, he slid open the viewport, and saw two of the city guard, chatting idly with each other.
Clearing his throat to get their attention, he spoke. “I assume you are the two assigned to protect my house against assassins?”
The left one; a middle-aged man with a tuft of salt-and-pepper beard, nodded. “Aye, young lord. Another two are at the back entrance for servants.”
Tristan nodded, “Right. Well, what are your names?”
The two exchanged glances, “Begging your pardon, m’lor-”
“Tristan.”
“Urm…Tristan. We don’t want any trouble-”
Tristan shook his head, “Don’t fret; I don’t want to report you to your superiors or anything like that. I wanted to get your names, figure out your shift rotation, who else is on the assignment, all of that information.” He chuckled and put on his best smile, “Plus, how am I going to commend you for your service if I don’t have your names?”
This earned him some grins from both of the guards, and they rapidly introduced themselves. The older, salt-and-pepper bearded man was Benjamin. His companion, a youthful version – Benjamin’s son – was named Benji. Benjamin leaned his halberd against the wall, fished around in a pouch, and pulled out a bit of sharpened charcoal. Then, he retrieved some parchment and scribbled a few more names.
There were two more guards on the day shift at the servant’s entrance: Faith and Persim. And the night shift would have four guards as well; Theron and Theros – twin brothers, Valerie, and Sealeh.
“Thank you,” Tristan said. “I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you lot. And, I want to make clear some expectations, so please pass them along. I do not mind you coming into the house to use the washroom. And, I expect you to take your meals at the table. I’ll inform my chef to stock up the larder.”
Both men looked at him with shocked faces, and the younger Benji spoke up. “My lor- Tristan. That is very kind.”
Tristan nodded, “Well, you’re out here keeping me safe. And I’ve done guard duty before.” He vividly recalled when his father made him stand ‘watch’ as punishment for sneaking extra taffy from the kitchens. “It can be boring, and when you have to piss and have to hold it for hours – you get distracted.”
Both men chuckled as he spoke the truth of the situation, and they nodded. “We’ll need a key, then,” Benjamin replied.
“One minute.” Tristan went into the townhouse, notified Gertrude to pick up more food supplies when she returned the next morning, and then acquired the spare key he hid under his bed in a small hole the bed frame had worn into the wood below. Rushing downstairs, he handed it to Benjamin. “Give it to whoever is on duty.”
The older man nodded, looped the key around his neck and pushed it under his armored carapace. “Of course. Thank you, Tristan. You’re quite kind for a lord.” He chuckled, “Most of them would just order us around and treat us like shit.”
Tristan frowned, “You’re people, too. Just like me. And, you haven’t made any comment about my half-elf nature. So I know you’re some of the good ones here in the capital.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Benji said with a terse, drawn face. “Lot of good its done us. The Sapphire Coast has been very accepting of the different heritages in the past year.”
Tristan leaned against the door, “I haven’t been around for a few years. Tell me why.”
Benji glanced back at the slit in the door before watching the street once more. “Well, the queen over there made a decree of ‘universal’ something-or-other.”
“Suffrage,” Benjamin said.
“Right, that. So, every heritage or half-breed can vote on laws. It’s driven a lot of new…whatchacallit?”
“Relocation,” Benjamin said once more.
“Right, that.”
Tristan nodded, “Makes sense. Why stick around a place where you aren’t treated as well just because of what you are.”
Benji smiled softly, “I have always thought about traveling out there. I heard the ocean is this huge, endless expanse of water. And some water-ladies – nymphs, I think? They’re gorgeous from what a few caravans have said.”
“I’ve heard that as well,” Tristan replied. “Well, I’ll leave you both to your duties. Thank you, again, for protecting me and my house.”
“You’re welc-” Benjamin was cut off as the sound of a procession reached their ears, and the two guardsmen looked down the street. What appeared to be a miniature parade was coming down the avenue. A procession that looked regal, and Tristan instantly recognized the sigil of the Damadan family.
Damnit, he thought as he saw a very-pregnant Gisele being carried on a litter. I thought I’d have more time before I saw her. “Gentleman, best behavior,” he instructed as he slid the small aperture shut and ran back into the house. Going to the kitchen, he saw that Gertrude was still packing her things. “Hurry up! Gisele is coming!”
Gertrude’s face went pale, “I am not cooking for that snooty bitch!” She dropped one of her bags, “I’ll get that tomorrow.” She rushed to the servant’s entrance, unlocked it, and slammed it shut behind her, re-locking it.
Tristan ran upstairs and burst into his room. “Felicity! Wake up!”
The fairy dragon stirred and raised her head off the pillow, “What is it?” she said sleepily.
“My sister is here.”
That woke her up instantly, and Felicity shimmered for a moment which informed Tristan of her invisibility being activated. “Want me to bite her? Claw her? Oooh! Steal from her?”
Tristan shook his head and ran to his wardrobe, pulling out his less casual ‘townhouse’ outfit and swapped clothes. “I need you to be there and help me get a read on her. I’m biased, but you’ve never met her.”
Felicity saluted with her paw-claw, pulling it up to the edge of her temple and tapping it there. “Alright! Felicity, the detective and empath, on the case.” She flew over to the window, opened it, and looked down. “Oh, they’re coming into the gate!”
Crap! Tristan knew the rules of proper decorum. He needed to be at the door to welcome a noble visitor, especially one of higher standing. He made sure to have his family crest on, with the crown-attachment to show that he was currently favored by the monarch or his court, and spun his mana core to re-establish his Disguise Form with the new clothing. Checking in the mirror, he confirmed the illusion spell worked appropriately, and then rushed down the stairs.
Taking in light breaths, he arrived at the door when it knocked. Ensuring his outfit was perfectly smoothed out, he opened the door and put on his biggest smile. “Welcome to the Anorox family townhouse.”
The woman he saw was definitely his half-sister. But she looked more regal than ever before. Long, brown hair was drawn back into a series of braids held in place with a golden bow – a bow made of literal golden threads, from what Tristan could tell. Her honey and amber eyes settled on him, and her pale skin contrasted with the dark, blue outfit she wore. “Tristan,” she said with a curt, proper demeanor. But he felt the visceral disgust underlying it.
Tristan bowed as decorum dictated, “Lady Damadan, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, keeping his posture in a position of deference despite it gnawing at him that he was bowing to his half-sister.
“I heard you returned. Move aside.”
Tristan did so, standing up and making sure he drew attention to the emblem hanging from his neck by gesturing with his hand. “Of course.”
He could tell by the slight squint to her eyes that she recognized the insertable black crown that attached to the top of any nobles sigil. “You met with the king.”
“Yes,” Tristan replied as he gestured to the lounge. “May I get you anything?”
She walked past him and two guards wearing house Damadan’s colors – deep blue with gold intertwined as if it was a flowing river – walked past Tristan and began investigating the first floor to clear it of any possible threats. Gisele took as seat and gestured to the one across from her, which Tristan sat in.
She cleared her throat and glared at him, “Did you find your fairy dragon?”
Tristan nodded, “Yes. Hence the king’s favor.”
She frowned, “I also heard you were involved in a murder, perhaps.”
Tristan put on his best innocent smile possible, years of practicing to manipulate his face coming into play. “I was cleared of all wrong-doing by Archon Grimtome himself. Assassins were after my mother and I.” He frowned and gestured to her, “For all we know, they are after everyone in our family.”
Gisele also frowned and looked at once of her guards, “I have no noticed anything off. Have you?”
The guard shook his helmeted head, “No, m’lady.”
She looked back to Tristan, “Perhaps it is only you and your mother who were targeted.”
Tristan tried to read her face for any sign of guilt. Any sign of something ‘off’. He saw Felicity, in the corner – having somehow snuck into the room without him noticing – studying Gisele intently. Maybe she’ll pick up on something if I keep prodding. “I went to the manor house outside of town. Everyone was dead.”
He gauged her reaction. And, he saw a flicker of sorrow cross her face. She then brought her lips into a terse grimace, “Everyone? Even Marianne?”
Tristan nodded as she referenced the nurse who helped raise them as younger children and taught them their numbers and letters. The woman had been kept on the staff as a nurse, after, as she had grown attached to the family. Tristan felt a tear start to well up in the corner of his eye, and brushed it away with a finger. “Yes,” he whispered, pushing the sorrow back. “Everyone. My mother, Marianne, every single servant.”
Gisele’s slight inhalation was all that Tristan needed to hear. She was always the most composed of the three siblings, rarely showing emotion and being unwavering in her goals. Well, she showed emotion in court when trying to make in-roads with other nobles for her own aspirations. But outside of that? She was like stone.
But this was different. He heard the sorrow crack through her voice, “I can’t believe someone would do that.”
Tristan nodded, “It was a gory sight to discover.” He looked up at her, “Father and grandfather are well last you saw them?”
She nodded, and her terse grimace remained as she calmed herself to a placid state using sheer mental fortitude. “They are, last I saw them. Bertram is well, too. I recently received a letter from him. He is going overseas to investigate something on behalf of the Pathfinders.” She stood up, “If you will excuse me, I think this visit is over.”
Tristan stood up at the same time as her and smiled, “Pleasure to see you, Gisele. Please visit anytime.”
She frowned, “I don’t think I will until father or grandfather returns.” She went past her guard, opened the front door, and left the building. Her two guards followed close after, and Tristan went to the door, shutting it behind them. He let out a gasp of air as he did so. “That bitch,” he muttered.
Felicity flapped over to him and landed on his head, “I don’t think she hired the people who did that. If she wanted your mom dead, why would they kill the whole house? Even if the assassin were spotted, they would just kill the person who saw them.”
Tristan nodded, “I agree. I don’t think it was Gisele.”
“Which means it could be your father,” Felicity replied.
It could be, Tristan thought. Wanting her out of the way so he could marry a Human woman. It makes the most sense. He went through his memories as best he could, trying to find any instance where his father showed a level of tenderness towards the servants – and he could not find any. He might have just had everyone killed off so that he could have a fresh start entirely. New wife, new staff…he’s uncaring enough to do something like that.
Tristan kicked the door and cursed under his breath. “If it is him…I don’t know what I’ll do about it,” Tristan said in exasperation. “I can’t kill my father.”
“Turn him in to the Archon guy. He can do that truth-telling spell you told me he does, and get the answer from your father.”
Tristan nodded, “Right. That’s true.” He looked to the stairs, “Come on. Upstairs. I’ll see if I can figure out what those other artificed items are, and then we’re going to the Fey Realm.”
