Islands in the Sky

4.8

Later that day, in part, Cassa assumed, because she had cooperated about the wedding and not been difficult, her grandmother put her in charge of the family’s fishing fleet.

Cassa had expected something, because the family custom was to bequeath a business to newlyweds to ensure they could support themselves, and the family custom was also to not let family assets out the family’s control, and so to clearly give the business to the family member of the couple and not to the couple itself.

Cassa had expected something, in due course, but this had been unexpectedly quick. In the middle of the morning, while she was still deciding whether to even go anywhere that day, and how much more giggling and innuendo about Willem she could stand, a man came to see her and said he was the overseer of the family fishing fleet.

“Oh,” Cassa said, confused. “Hello.”

The overseer had talked for a while. A guard was there, one who had escorted the overseer to Cassa’s chambers. A guard, and also the maid who had allowed the overseer entry to see Cassa, and to whom he must have given his business. That he was here, speaking to her past two people whose jobs were in part to prevent such interruptions as this, made Cassa assume there was some point to this visit. All the same, it took a while before she understood. The overseer was intimidated to be there, Cassa thought, and talking to much, and stumbling over his words. It was actually quite difficult to understand what he was trying to tell her.

Cassa was patient. She usually was, to outsiders who weren’t part of the family and the tower. She was to most people, in truth, at least those who weren’t deliberately crossing her, but she was especially considerate with the family’s employees and supporters. People like this man, who lived out in the city and barely saw any of the Middletower family from one year to the next, people like this didn’t need to have their loyalties tested by rude, thoughtless behaviour on the few occasions they met a Middletower.

Cassa waited, trying to understand. The overseer talked, more and more. Cassa listened, smiling politely, hoping it would become clear.

It didn’t seem to be.

“I was to visit you, my lady,” the overseer said. “Once the wedding day was done with.” He had said that twice already, but then become lost in his own tangled thoughts before he could properly explained why.

“And here you are,” Cassa said, hoping that interrupting might help him concentrate. “You have done so, and that is good.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And why were you to visit me?”

“Oh,” the overseer said. “Yes. I was to tell you that the fishing fleet is now yours to command.”

Cassa sat there, thinking. “The fishing fleet,” she said.

“Yes, my lady. The mistress, your grandmother, said I was to be clear. The fleet is now yours, to do with as you wish, my lady. I am to obey any order of yours, even over hers.”

Cassa nodded, slowly. “The fishing fleet,” she said again.

“Yes, my lady. I am the overseer of the fishing fleet. I was told to come and tell you this. By your grandmother.”

“Yes,” Cassa said. “I heard. I am just a little…”

She stopped, thinking quickly. She wasn’t going to question her grandmother in front of an outsider, even by implication, and she also wasn’t going to insult this man’s livelihood to his face. Especially since she would apparently be insulting her own.

“I am a little surprised,” Cassa said. “That is all. My grandmother has been generous.”

The overseer nodded, but seemed unsure how to respond.

“And why are you here?” Cassa said, after a moment. “Surely someone could have given me a message.”

“Oh. To tell you this. And to ask if there is anything you wish done, especially. Because you are now in charge.”

“Like what?” Cassa said, surprised.

“I don’t know, my lady. I was told I should offer.”

“Oh. Told by who?”

“Oto, the tower steward.”

“Of course,” Cassa said. “I see.”

Oto ran the household and was deeply concerned with protocol. Cassa avoided him as much as she could. If Oto had told the overseer to do this, it was probably a tradition and nothing more. A tradition to make an empty, but polite offer, which Cassa should probably disregard.

“Did Oto tell you to expect an answer?” Cassa said.

The overseer stood there looking at her.

“No?” Cassa said.

“He didn’t say, my lady.”

“What I mean,” Cassa said. “Is this. Does it seem entirely sensible to you for me to start interfering in a business I know nothing about the very first day I am in charge of it?”

The overseer thought, then said, a little hesitantly, “No my lady.”

“No,” Cassa said, and smiled. “I don’t think so either.”