The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 8: the Laycreeks

The drawing of Morane in the media is by moonshadow8888 and it's so adorable oh my god I can't get over it!

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Luca hadn't realized how twisted his relationship with his father had become.

He'd always thought as a family they did okay, that they held on pretty well, considering. History was full of fathers who had no interest in their family when their wife was gone-- Luca had been told once, when he was little, that this was the result of loving someone too much-- but that had never been his father. Yes, Luca's mother was gone, and she had taken some part of Lord Laycreek's heart with her, but there was enough left over for their five daughters and single son. At least, he'd assumed. His father wasn't the most open or approachable, but the adults in Luca's life had always commented that it was remarkable how he managed to be such a great father during such trying times, so he'd assumed it was true. It wasn't like he went around comparing his father to everyone else's.

Luca had assumed a great number of things that, over the past few years, were looking less and less certain. For one thing, that whatever he did, his father would support him. This was no longer plausible. The house of Laycreek wasn't what it had been. Its wealth was lost and so inevitably its reputation was fading as well. One had to be regained for the other to also be attained. It didn't matter which, but the burden seemed to fall on Luca, as the eldest, the most.

Sometimes he wondered if he would have entered training for knighthood under different circumstances. If he'd been born in the skin of Savion Regenmace, would he too have aimed for politics as well? He always said he loved the years he'd spent training, but his conviction now that they were over was starting to fail.

Another thing he'd assumed-- because his father had been so deeply in love with his wife, he couldn't want anything less for his children. Ridiculous, he thought bitterly. At heart his father was no better than the Regenmaces or any other noble family. Love only counted if inheritance and standing were included in the package. He'd made that all too clear.

Staring at the door to his office, he could hear the last conversation they'd had playing in his head.

"Everyone goes through phases, Luca. I'm not saying that's what you mean this to be, but trust me, she is. Sooner or later one of you will realize you come from different places, and it will matter a hell of a lot more then than it does now."

"You're not even trying to understand."

"Believe it or not, I don't have to try. I already know. She's not your type."

"I have a feeling what you're trying to say is my type is whoever you choose." He didn't know if he was angry at or proud of himself for being so calm.

"If it comes to that. All I'm saying is that a thief is not a good choice."

"The Thief," Luca corrected, certain he could hear a lowercase in his father's voice. "She's a Guardian."

"Exactly." His lip curled up, and suddenly being calm was ridiculous. He could hit something.

"That's not something to be ashamed of!"

"She's a glorified servant and an out-of-control teenager."

"Then what does that make me?" His shouts must've been ringing through the hallway outside.

"A noble knight of the highest order, from one of the oldest lineages in this kingdom. And certainly not the future husband of a royal thief."

Standing here now, he was fuming and full of furious retorts, but at the time of the argument his father's cold glare had startled him into meekness.