A Practical Guide to Sorcery (Books 1 & 2)

Chapter 17 - A Toast to Forceful Personalities (Part 2)

Titus sucked in a breath and started moving around to the stairwell to intervene between his father and brother.

A perfectly enunciated, clipped voice responded, bringing Titus to a sudden halt. "I assure you, Tyron, your younger son is quite acceptable." Thaddeus Lacer stepped in from the garden, dark cloak fluttering behind him. "Perhaps not as much a prodigy as the elder, but three hundred out of the three thousand who made it is by no means mediocre. I expect he will do well in my class. Perhaps, with dedication, he will even become a passable free-caster—which, if I remember, was a feat which your late wife also accomplished."

"Lacer." Tyron turned toward the famous University professor with an instinctive movement that spoke to keeping a predator within his field of vision. "That would be...a pleasant surprise." His tone indicated anything but.

"Indeed. Well, some people have a talent for the discipline, and others do not. Their minds are too rigid. Or too weak. You yourself never managed it, if I remember?"

Damien looked between his father and Lacer, his eyes wide.

Tyron ground his teeth, but bowed his head under the other man's force of presence. "I have not had the satisfaction," he admitted.

"Well, fear not," Lacer said with a cold, humorless smile. "Your sons may yet reach the heights you failed to, and through them you can gain vicarious success."

Oliver choked on a laugh at the audacity of Lacer's insult.

Titus approached the group with some caution, though Oliver noted he kept any frustration or amusement from his face. "Good evening, Father, Professor Lacer." He dipped his head in greeting to the two of them. "I'm pleased to see you could make it. Thoughtful of the Gervins to hold this gathering for the young men and women about to leave for the University, don't you think?"

Tyron was still bristling from Lacer's words, but he seemed to decide retaliating wasn't worth it and turned toward Titus instead. "Very thoughtful," he agreed, his words clipped.

"I hate to interrupt your conversation, Father, but I crossed paths with Lord Emberlin and thought you might be interested in connecting with him. If you would excuse us, Professor Lacer?"

The man nodded and waved an uncaring hand that made Tyron grit his teeth again. "Feel free. I suspect our conversation was already over."

Titus pretended not to notice the tension with what Oliver thought was impressive boldness, drawing his father into the crowd. Oliver wondered if Tyron would take out his ire on Titus when they were out of earshot, or if he reserved his venom for his younger son.

The Gervin girl glared at Tyron's back, any demureness gone from her posture.

Lacer dismissed the awkwardness, turning to Damien. "I will see you in my class on Monday, will I not?"

Looking up, his inner self seeming to unfurl to fill his body again, the boy grinned. "Of course."

The girl nodded as well. "I look forward to it."

"Good. Your mother would be proud." Lacer gave the young man's shoulder a squeeze, ignoring the glassy eyes and blinking this brought on.

"My father...what you said...you're not worried about him?" Damien asked.

"On the contrary. I may not be from a Crown Family, but that does not leave me without power or influence of my own. Besides, any inconvenience Tyron can cause me is temporary. Titus would feel no need for vengeance, and he is quickly becoming the true force of your Family. I don't suppose you will feel the need to revenge yourself on me over this little episode?"

Damien laughed thickly. "I would never be so stupid."

Lacer smirked. His eyes flicked up to Oliver, who took that as his cue to stop eavesdropping.

On the other side of the ballroom, Oliver fortuitously ran into Margaret Gervin, the wife of the Gervin Family head.

Ever the consummate socialite, she smiled brightly and smoothly tucked her hand into his arm, leading him back toward the trio he was trying to leave behind. "Oh Oliver, have you met my Anastasia? She's off to the University tomorrow," she said proudly.

"I have not had the pleasure," he replied. "Though, to be truthful, I was hoping to speak to you or your husband this evening. I don't wish to intrude on your last hours with your child, but perhaps we could set up a meeting sometime soon? There is a business opportunity I would like to discuss. I have a new shipment of Erythrean horses in, and I know Edward has some interest in riding. Perhaps he could join me for an afternoon and see if any suit his tastes." He found bribery distasteful, more because it spoke to an inherent failing of the system than because of any moral qualms, but if he could get a sub-contract in the textile industry from the Gervin Family, an exorbitantly expensive Erythrean horse would be more than worth it.

"Oh, an Erythrean? Edward mentioned you breed those. Yes, I'm sure he'd be interested in meeting, even if only for the chance to ride one. He's been so jealous of Moncrieffe since last year, you know. It's too bad Anastasia won't be available to join you. I have never quite understood it, but that girl does enjoy equestrianism. Refuses to even wear a skirt while riding, though I don't suppose that would bother you overmuch?" she asked, gazing at him slyly out of the corner of her eye. "You are a man with many avant-garde ideas, I mean."

"That is true," he agreed, wondering what she was getting at. Other nobles liked to gossip about the Gervin Family's particularly backward treatment of their women, but they weren't strong enough outliers for more "enlightened" people to do more than gossip about them behind closed doors. Oliver found it strange that, even with magic, the great equalizer, some people still found a way to believe in inherent inferiority. If anything, it was humans as a whole that were inherently inferior to all the other species.

"She has an interest in business as well, though I keep telling her it's not appropriate for a well-born woman to concern herself with work or money. It's our fault, I suppose. Edward does love to spoil her, and she is the firstborn, with no boys. I'm of the opinion that, once she's married, she might settle a bit and see the sense in turning her efforts toward something more appropriate, like a charity foundation. If her husband were agreeable to something like that."

Oliver cleared his throat to cover his shock at the boldness of the woman's proposal and give himself time to gather his thoughts. Was Margaret Gervin matchmaking? Between him and her own daughter, no less... "I find it quite natural for some women to be interested in more demanding pursuits. Not all people, man or woman, are suited to domesticity." It was as neutral an answer as he could give, with no direct indication of interest in her daughter.

He was surprised that they would consider him a viable match for a young girl from such a prestigious background, as a non-Crown Family member, and a foreigner to boot. He was wealthy, true, but marrying into the Gervin Family would be a huge boost to his social standing.

An inappropriately large boost, in the eyes of many.

Margaret was probably only sounding out his feelings on the matter. It seemed ludicrous that the Gervins would consider him a serious candidate.

That thought was reassuring. The other students entering the University were even younger than Siobhan, and no matter how advantageous it might be, the thought of tying himself to someone he didn't respect, for life, was enough to make his clothes feel too tight and his skin prickle.

"Many would try to crush her spirit," the woman said, her voice a little softer. A few seconds passed in silence as they arrived at the edge of the ballroom where he'd left Lacer and the two young people. It was empty. "Oh, I thought I saw them here earlier! Wherever have they slipped away to?" she complained.

Oliver caught the edge of a dark cloak fluttering in the dimly lit garden, but said nothing. "Well, I'm sure they'll turn up later. In the meantime, perhaps I could settle on a meeting time with Edward?"

As they headed back into the crowd, Oliver turned to look for Lacer again in the gardens, but saw no hint of him. He had understood, today, part of why the man was so famous, not just for his grasp on magic, but for the force of his personality. Tyron had been afraid of him.

Oliver wondered how many of the rumors about Thaddeus Lacer were based in truth.