In the City of the Swans

Chapter One

A certain Midas of Gavaldon, virtually unknown to most, had inherited the property of an extremely wealthy– and a childless– baronet.

Apparently, he had charmed his way into the man's heart, even while employed as his accountant. In the baronet's grand opinion (Lord rest his soul), Midas was the son he never had.

Years afterwards, his higher-ranking, but not as equally wealthy friend, a duke, had married Julia Lennox, soon known to the world as the ever-charming Duchess Mistral. Rafal mistral had provided her with a delightful title, and she in her turn provided him with glorious metal.

Now, Rafal had a brother with whom Sir Midas was not on friendly terms with at all, numerous curt, hostile, angry letters exchanged between the two in their respective histories. In fact, most of Duke Mistra's friend circle disliked Rhian Mistral in some way or other. Midas, however, despised him, apparently suffering some unforgivable injury under his fair hands, and was the gladdest man alive after hearing of his banishment from the city Rafal lived in.

In short, Rhian had fallen into scandals– the "s" not at all an error in this quaint little account– that had humiliated the Mistrals so thoroughly his presence could no longer be accepted. It started with a crude and coarse seaman of the name Vulcan, a fellow from Netherwood, and then, the gorgeous, poor, fallen Evelyn Sader, the illegitimate daughter of Mr. Sader. She was saved from total disgrace and indigence only by her kinder brother.

Ms. Lennox had married Rafal shortly after Rhian's "exile" into a residence so far away from even Rafal's little "Swan Park," but she had met him. More delicate and tender of feeling than her husband, she had gently requested that he give his brother another chance– something more than the allowance and cheap little cottage he provided him with.

The proposal was immediately shut down with a cold, "I have given him far too many" and the subject was dropped forever.

In the background of these events was the royal wedding of King Tedros of Camelot to another resident of Gavaldon, a certain Agatha.

Queen Agatha was proclaimed as dreadfully ugly, but intelligent and genuinely a woman of kindness and good character. And soon, she had fine children to represent the kingdom, so her hideousness was hastily forgiven. Many even dared to whisper that the King's wisest decisions were really all her doing, but she was far too humble, or perhaps her husband far too proud, to reveal it to anyone. I say both possibilities may be true, but I digress, for these are merely whispers and have nothing important to contribute in the grand scheme of things.

Agatha's sister, Sophie, did not acquire the same degree of conjugal felicity. She married a sailor– if he could even be called such. He was ugly and had no rank. Only after marriage did the noble-blooded Captain James Hook elevate Hort Scourie to a lieutenant and give him some income that would provide enough for his wife's expenditures.It seemed this act of kindness was done more condescendingly than for genuine generosity, to the embarrassment of Mrs. James Hook.

Sophie also seemed to marry Hort based on the word of her well-meaning sister and friends, who really thought he was a good man and that was the best match she could have. What other options did she have? Sir Midas seemed to have no intention of marriage and embraced a rustic culture she would despise, Duke Mistral was already engaged to Ms. Lennox, who was wealthier (and prettier, though no one dared say it to her face) than Sophie was.

With these "persuasions," Sophie married him. Months after, her nephew was born, and a year after this, her darling Josephine. Sophie doted on her sister's children when her own home–and husband– became much too dull and oppressive.

As a result, she had the greatest influence, overthrowing their mother in their hearts.

To Sophie's dismay, the domestic tranquility of the Pendragon royal family was interrupted by the arrival of a former Gavaldon acquaintance, who resided in the Darling Quarter before her death.

It appeared as if Nicola, the acquaintance in question, maintained a decent friendship with Her Royal Majesty. Hort Scourie had spurned her, but she proceeded to find a better match for herself.

Her children were left with no title or wealth, but they had good health, spirits, looks, and a well-formed mind–too sharp and educated to be considered coarse and ignorant. The eldest son also owned the inn that was in possession of his parents before their violent deaths.

This small piece of property and family history was enough to pique the interest of a lord six years later.