The Chronicle of the Worthy Son

Other Options

"I'm gonna sue for my inheritance!" Lark's head was high, chin defiant.

Dawnwatch and Windburrow exchanged a glance. They had already been here in Light Hawking's personal quarters when Lark barged in. Hawking attempted to exchange a similar glance with Chessie, but she was giving Lark her full attention.

So he leaned against the old table that served for his desk and looked to Lark as well. "...and what does that mean?"

Able took a breath both to steel himself and explain. "Starting at the age of twenty, princes deep into the line of succession are encouraged to withdraw their claim in exchange for holdings. The practice reduces the chances that an emperor's sons will fight each other and divide up the realm once he has died."

Hawking raised his eyebrows and looked to Lark again. "So, you want to sue your father, the king, and make Borealund your holding? Is this what you mean to do?"

"Yes!" Lark flashed a manic grin. She was trembling in her skin. Knowing Lark, she was equal parts eager and terrified to do this. "If I can exchange my claim for Borealund, I could stop the reinforcements entirely. Order the enforcers to stand down. There'd be no need to march or anything else!"

Chessie's was the only mouth that did not drop open. Dawnwatch's was the only one that produced sound.

"Blackbird, you know we all call you that so we can admire your spunk and prowess without reminding ourselves what you really are, don't you?"

Windburrow jolted with affront. "Speak for yourself!"

"Fine." He stepped forward and jabbed his finger into Lark's chest. "I did not spend the prime years of my life fighting off your father only to submit to you ruling over me now."

Lark wrinkled her nose but did not budge. "That's not what I mean to do. I'd use my position as a buffer between Borealund and the designs of the crown."

"Call it pumpkin pudding!" Dawnwatch made himself louder and taller as if that should add to his argument. "It's still Larbant rule!"

"It's not a perfect solution," Able broke in with a step closer to Lark. "But yours is torching your own cities, so let's keep an open mind for one damn minute."

It was neither surprising nor impressive that the warmonger rounded on him. "This is what comes of letting Banders in here! Who knows what—" and that was as far as he got before Lark's hand shot up to grasp his collar bone.

"You leave him be." She—he?—locked eyes with Dawnwatch while he squirmed and hissed.

"Stand down, both of you," Hawking said. "You can take it outside if you're still up for it when we're done discussing." He watched Dawnwatch snort and retreated to the edge of the room before leaning back and folding his arms. "As I would like to know how you expect this to work, yes."

"The first hurdle is we'd need Impetus to recognize Lark for his son Plaudit," Able said. "The second is he might come at the demand with a counteroffer. Lark can refuse, I believe, and insist on Borealund, but the process would cost all of you valuable time. But I expect that with a competent legal team, that won't be much of an issue. Impetus may have wanted to discredit his brother's bastard, but if the situation here devolves too much, he risks discrediting himself. From there, a principality has considerably more autonomy than any other sort of territory, but what concessions we can get in the treaty ultimately will depend on our negotiation capacity. Again...we will need a good lawyer."

"Larbant rule," Dawnwatch huffed from where he had taken a seat in the nearest thing the earthen hollow had to a corner.

Windburrow heaved a sigh. "He's not wrong. We'd still be imperial subjects, wouldn't we? Beholden to imperial obligations? You're asking us to, well, surrender to Lark." She wasn't wrong either.