Delphinium, or A Necromancer's Home (TCoLaD Book 2)

The Prince and the Duc

~ Iunday, 10th of Maius, 11831 ~

Aimé made the trip in six days. On the afternoon of the aptly named Fairy Moon he returned to Spadille with a small retinue. They had all ridden their own horses, cutting the time from about two weeks to one, forsaking pleasantries and carts for the speed that a few men on horseback could achieve without overdue burden. Pierre was grateful for it, and for his brother. It would not be unusual for a prince to wish to be comfortable and take the extra time, but Aimé took his duties to family and land above all else.

After the initial clamor of welcoming the prince the two brothers went off to discuss matters. The advisors began to follow, but Aimé held up a hand and stopped them without even speaking.

"This will be between His Graceful Highness and myself," he said, invoking Pierre's station as foster son of the roi.

Renaud looked about to protest, but held his tongue and waited with the rest as Aimé and Pierre went behind closed doors.

"I am sorry."

Of all the things Pierre had thought Aimé would begin with it was not that.

"I—pardon? Brother you—"

"I was to take up these duties for you. I swore this," Aimé said. His shoulders slumped and weariness of many days ride showed upon his face. He seemed so young. He was only five years Pierre's senior, and for most of the their lives that gap had seemed so wide. Now it felt like they were both too young. Were they too old to call their father for aid?

"In the two months you have been here you have discovered corruption and problems that did not occur to me to even look for in four years," the prince said. "Even if I were not the true duc, I am the prince, and this land is as mine as yours."

"You are the prince," Pierre agreed. "And in that matter I assume there were those who acted around you in ways that they have not with me. You are known, beloved throughout the realm, respected." His smile wavered and a shadow crossed his face. "And it would not surprise me if this was done specifically to keep you unaware. You were given reports, the advisors advised, no? I only learnt because of my position as a doctor and being curious." And through means as one who practiced necrocræft.

"You are as much father's son as I."

"Non, I am not. In Piques I am Félicien's son, a boy who left as a child, grew up far away, and chose schooling over returning the moment I should have when I was of age."

The prince sighed and nodded in defeat. "Do you have anything to drink?"

Brandy was brought out and poured for them both. Aimé raised his glass in silent toast.

"And, oui, they advised me. In many cases well. They said they had this land under control and it seemed that way to me, for one who had not spent much time here. After all His Grace Félicien had been gone many years... I assumed they were well versed."

"Vivien tried. Tries still, and does do better than most," Pierre said. "He and I spoke the day of my arrival and he confessed being overwhelmed, but I see him doing as much as he can. And as does Charlot. Tibault is learning."

"The sons of Feuilles?"

"Jourdain has aided me and shown initiative. Renaud often has opinions of his own but tends to listen. He is young, and began after his elder brother, though, no?"

Aimé nodded, and took a sip of the drink in his hand. The tension in his shoulders eased and he sat back. "I think this is the brandy Vivien got me one Winterfinding. He has good taste. I think I only had time to try it once."