A War Of Traitors( ARTK, Book 2)

Chapter 56

Manor 2nd, 3329 A.G

The dinner set before them- Albree, Vanora, Valter, Milon, Amira and Tiffan, brought back far too many memories. It was a typical meal of Voryn- really a typical meal anywhere in the world, but Tiffan's father had despised it. Time and time again he called stew and bread peasant food, despite theirs often having the most expensive cuts of meat and freshest vegetables.

Amira could hardly eat hers fast enough, but Tiffan did not blame her. If she'd ever had eggplant or good tomatoes before, they were from a jar.

"How are you liking it here?" Tiffan asked, just having finished a bite of her own. "I know the differences.... must be jarring to someone who's never traveled before."

Amira slowly set her spoon down. "Getting here was jarring. I'm pretty sure I swallowed half of the ocean during that storm."

"Then I swallowed the other half-" Tiffan smiled. "And your chambers?"

"Larger than my family's home." Amira smiled back. "You've been... very good to me Mi'lady."

They'd been back for less than a day, but Tiffan could understand how she thought so. Really, the things she'd done so far were only basic courtesies. A paramour was supposed to be taken care of, so she would be.

"She's very good to us all." Albree put herself in the conversation. "Always has been. Oh gods if you'd been here when Drue was lord-"

Albree cut herself off. "Nevermind. I don't mean to frighten you. Later, once you've both had a chance to rest- we'll talk about personal servants and how much they need to be paid. Court comes with certain privileges.... but it can also be boring."

  Tiffan couldn't help but agree. Attacking House Ashhand and forming an alliance with Dedor were the most exciting things to happen in years.

  "It isn't home, and there are far too many people- but it is a beautiful place." Milon said. "I could get used to it. Being my father's heir was not....enjoyable."

  Tiffan only nodded. It was a feeling she understood all too well- probably more so than Milon Amalone. Her father had always reminded her she was a failure for not making heirs, a failure for daring to wear breeches instead of a dress- a failure simply for existing as a woman. And now he was long dead. She'd never have to hear his words again, but they would stay with her for life.

  "If only I'd shot you onto your mother's stomach instead, I wouldn't have a daughter incapable of making heirs." He'd said after her tenth pregnancy. "You are my biggest regret in life."

  "Mine was .... far from my favorite person. At least yours seemed to care about you. At least he did what was best for his people. Mine only ever worried for himself; how one of his daughters being barren would make him look." Milon was silent after that. His father had always been hard on him, yes- but he did love his children. Nothing would change that, even if Isolde did something to embarrass the family or turned out to be barren as well.

The soldiers were already on their way to Dedor, so he did not regret coming here. Tiffan had given the order, as promised- immediately upon returning. The hours it took them to organize were chaotic, and her military advisor had been annoyed- though he kept his mouth shut. Voryn was not Praris, where an advisor had nearly as much power as their lord- and Tiffan was far above Valter's commander position.

After a long period of silence though, he was the one speaking.

"My lady I have to say.... while I did not agree with giving the soldiers very little time to prepare, I praise the alliance you've forged. In one trip you-"

"Accidentally took a territory and made an ally?" Tiffan interrupted. "Please do not repeat it. It's been said more times than I can count."

"Very well. Then we must discuss.... What, if any power your husband will hold over the armies. He is young, but traditionally-"

"A man who married a commanding lady would have equal or more power than her?" Tiffan shook her head. "No. I do not say this to put you down, Milon. You are educated, but young- and you've never had real power. As you grow older I may allow you to have more.... but for now it is out of the question, tradition be damned."

  The rest of the dinner was near silent, though afterwards- Valter asked to speak to his lady.

  "What is it now?" She asked, annoyed. "The soldiers have already left and we have no reason to believe any of them would desert when going to a new continent. You've conditioned them well over the years."

  "No, my lady- it's not that. Whether I agree with sending soldiers to Dedor or not is irrelevant-"

  "You're right, it is." Tiffan interrupted. "So get to the point."

  Valter gulped. Since taking her father's title and responsibilities, Tiffan Raynerus had changed and he couldn't blame her. Power did strange things to people, him included. "You've allowed your husband to bring his happiness with him. If you were careful, and hid it well- you could find a happiness too. In history, we've seen it all too often: leaders consumed by revenge rarely live past fifty."

  "My life is not some precious thing." Tiffan scoffed. "If there is another child growing inside of me as Vanora said, I will be able to die happily and take as much revenge as I want after making sure they're safe."

  "It isn't so simple-" Briefly, Valter smiled. "I didn't love his mother, a whore- but when she presented me with my first bastard I'd never loved anyone in the world more. It didn't matter that he wasn't a true born son. I would have walked through flames for a thousand paces to stop him from getting hurt..... but I could do nothing when he came down with a sickness. He died in his mother's arms two days later while I tried to comfort her, and when your father found out- do you want to know what he said? At least you won't have that thing walking freely around Vorynese soil anymore. He may have been a bastard, my lady- but he was my son. We have no choice but to love our children, and if there is one inside your womb- and it lives, you will not want to die and leave him alone. I would know."