Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 17
Sebastian surveyed the room like a lord overlooking the fields where the peasants under his governance worked. A comparison that was not too dissimilar, to Angelleen’s chagrin. Theirs was not a happy home but a family built on the foundations of necessity and duty.
As was usual of late, her husband showed signs of exhaustion. Nothing overt, as he was prickly about his image, but to the queen who had watched him for years, the tells were plain as day.
Biggest of which being that he had changed into something casual, a simple shirt and pants. A stranger would nod approvingly, seeing a man who dropped his barriers around his family. They would be very wrong. Angelleen knew the king was the least comfortable in his roles as a husband and father.
His slovenly appearance, by his standards, could only be the result of being too tired to bother. His family wouldn’t be so quick to judge as his court and advisors, so he took liberties from time to time.
Behind him was Manuel Reis Quintana, former royal knight. He too was dressed casually, down to his muddy boots. The knight bowed his head toward her as the men went to their seats, Sebastian taking his place at the head of the table, his friend taking a seat next to Angelica. Her youngest looked up at him briefly before turning away with disinterest.
““Father.””
“Good evening, father.”
“Husband.”
“Evening.” Sebastian returned the greetings cordially. His gaze moved to Angelica, who had ignored him in favor of tracing squares with her finger, muttering to herself. His expression was complicated as he turned to his wife. “How…are you?” he asked, stiffly.
“Quite well.” It was the same answer to a familiar question. She had done her queenly duties and dozens of servants took care of her home, exempting her from wifely duties. It left little reason for them to interact.
She greeted him at meals, assured him as to her well-being when he asked, and they ignored one another in-between. Or at least, that’s what her husband thought. Angelleen was far more involved with Sebastian’s life than he assumed. “You’re looking better. Did you take a moment to rest?”
“Mm. I managed to close my eyes for a few moments. Unfortunately, that is all I can manage.” The king rubbed his brow. “Ah, but that isn’t talk meant for the dinner table. Someone, bring a bottle of wine.”
A servant standing against the wall quickly walked out of the dining room. He returned shortly cradling a bottle of wine, followed by an older woman pushing a cart. The king’s glass was filled as dinner was served, Sebastian downing his cup in two large gulps. The servant beside him was quick to pour a refill.
“You’re looking well, your majesty.”
The queen looked up after tucking a napkin into the front of her daughter’s dress, her smile a little more genuine for the old knight. “I could say the same for you, Sir Quintana. I suppose retirement agrees with you.” Her words were mostly polite platitudes. Her husband’s friend and protector looked just as tired as him.
“Hah! Despite my supposed retirement, I find myself constantly working.”
“The renowned commitment of a royal knight. The kingdom thanks you for your service. I hope our dear king isn’t pushing you too hard.”
“Nothing the old boy can’t handle,” Sebastian said over the rim of his glass. “I’ll need him to ride against the kingdom’s enemies once more. He’ll accompany Dowager to handle this supposed invasion.”
Samuel looked up from his meal. “Yes. Fighting against little men half his size should be a good test of my brother’s ability.”
The eldest prince glared at him. “Too bad you won’t be joining me brother, but never fear. You will face your own tempering.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Dowager.” Sebastian glared at his oldest before turning to Samuel. “We were having a discussion earlier. As you know, Reis recently visited Bobby at the Grand Hall.” The second prince stiffened at the mention of the school, setting down his fork and giving his father his full attention. “…he has decided that Bobby will be joining the next campaign to the Bleak Peaks.”
Bastian gasped and choked, hastily swallowing the food in his mouth and washing it down with a large gulp of wine. He cleared his throat, flushing as the table focused on him. “Forgive the interruption. I…well, isn’t that a bit harsh, Sir Reis? Everyone knows the Peaks are a death trap.”
The knight scoffed. “A man can find death everywhere. What matters is whether he’s strong enough to fight it off. A good fight is just what he needs.”
“You agreed to this father?” Samuel asked skeptically.
“Robert is Reis’ apprentice,” he said slowly. “And he isn’t wrong. Fort Victory has the strongest fighters outside of the royal knights. Beyond that, they are used to training others. It’s a good opportunity.”
“If he survives,” Bastian muttered, waving for a servant to refill his glass.
“Bobby’s going to go play with the monkeys!” Angelica shouted excitedly, flinging food from her plate as she dropped her fork. Angelleen was quick to sweep up the mess with a napkin and place the fork back in her daughter’s hand, quietly guiding her back to focusing on her dinner.
“Monkeys, huh?” Sir Quintana mused. “I suppose the knights of Victory look like trained monkeys to outsiders, thoughtlessly walking into war over and over again.”
“I think their determination is admirable,” Angelleen said. “Not many could fight a battle despite such odds.”
“Yes, they certainly have character in Fort Victory.” Sebastian took a large sip of wine. “While dangerous, it is a unique opportunity.” He paused. “One I thought you may be interested in, Samuel.”
The second prince froze, eyes widening. “Father…”
The king raised a hand. “I’ve decided that you will return to the Hall. There is no need for you to waste time lazing about the castle. Upon your return, you will make amends to all those you troubled with your…tantrum.”
Samuel’s lips twitched as he fought a sneer. “Yes, Father.”
“…you will make it back in time to sign up for the campaign if you wish. The conquering of the Bleak Peaks isn’t vital to the kingdom so it is your decision whether to risk your life for it. Think on it.”
“What is there to think about?” Dowager laughed. “What else is he supposed to do, lie around the dorm all day scratching his ass?”
“Language,” the queen said reflexively.
“Sorry, mother. I was simply trying to point out to my dear brother that he needs some accomplishments if he wants to measure up to half his ego.” He sneered at Samuel. “Otherwise, he’ll be a ghost haunting the banquets of the capital when he gets older, regretting what could have been. I rather not have another leech on the family’s gold.” His eyes cut to Bastian, who avoided his gaze.
“I am sure I can find something to do with myself better than drowning in snow,” Samuel said slowly.
“Enough, Dowager,” Sebastian said in his “kingly” voice, ending the spat. “It is his choice. Think carefully on it, Samuel. With great danger comes great reward.”
“I will,” the second prince said in a tone that said he wouldn’t.
“Your return to the Hall is not negotiable. The servants have already begun making preparations. Best to be on the road before the first snowfall.”
“Of course, Father.”
“What about you, Bastian?” Dowager said. “Both your brothers are off to fight mighty foes. You should join us, either of us.”
The third prince made no effort to hide his reluctance. “Unfortunately, I’m not much of a fighter. I shall leave the vanquishing of our family’s enemies to you.”
“Nonsense! There are plenty of exceptional knights with only one affinity. It is all about how you use it.”
“You’ve been listening to your maids too much, brother.”
Samuel snorted out a laugh as Dowager’s lips pressed into a frown. “Best leave it, brother. Bastian wouldn’t fare well in the harsh climate of the north. Without a steady supply of fine wines and desperate women, he’ll collapse before even seeing a monster.”
“Your brothers have a point,” the king mused, to all their surprise.
“You can’t be serious,” Bastian sputtered, cringing the next moment under the king’s glare.
“I tolerated your behavior before, hoping something would come of your association with the Grimoire heir.” Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “However, in the wake of his father’s death, Gordon has matured and changed his family’s ways. The more debauched nobles have lost their figurehead and their power. They are once again laughingstocks. You are a laughingstock and I cannot have one of my sons seen as a joke. It is time to grow up, Bastian.”
Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 17
Sebastian surveyed the room like a lord overlooking the fields where the peasants under his governance worked. A comparison that was not too dissimilar, to Angelleen’s chagrin. Theirs was not a happy home but a family built on the foundations of necessity and duty.
As was usual of late, her husband showed signs of exhaustion. Nothing overt, as he was prickly about his image, but to the queen who had watched him for years, the tells were plain as day.
Biggest of which being that he had changed into something casual, a simple shirt and pants. A stranger would nod approvingly, seeing a man who dropped his barriers around his family. They would be very wrong. Angelleen knew the king was the least comfortable in his roles as a husband and father.
His slovenly appearance, by his standards, could only be the result of being too tired to bother. His family wouldn’t be so quick to judge as his court and advisors, so he took liberties from time to time.
Behind him was Manuel Reis Quintana, former royal knight. He too was dressed casually, down to his muddy boots. The knight bowed his head toward her as the men went to their seats, Sebastian taking his place at the head of the table, his friend taking a seat next to Angelica. Her youngest looked up at him briefly before turning away with disinterest.
““Father.””
“Good evening, father.”
“Husband.”
“Evening.” Sebastian returned the greetings cordially. His gaze moved to Angelica, who had ignored him in favor of tracing squares with her finger, muttering to herself. His expression was complicated as he turned to his wife. “How…are you?” he asked, stiffly.
“Quite well.” It was the same answer to a familiar question. She had done her queenly duties and dozens of servants took care of her home, exempting her from wifely duties. It left little reason for them to interact.
She greeted him at meals, assured him as to her well-being when he asked, and they ignored one another in-between. Or at least, that’s what her husband thought. Angelleen was far more involved with Sebastian’s life than he assumed. “You’re looking better. Did you take a moment to rest?”
“Mm. I managed to close my eyes for a few moments. Unfortunately, that is all I can manage.” The king rubbed his brow. “Ah, but that isn’t talk meant for the dinner table. Someone, bring a bottle of wine.”
A servant standing against the wall quickly walked out of the dining room. He returned shortly cradling a bottle of wine, followed by an older woman pushing a cart. The king’s glass was filled as dinner was served, Sebastian downing his cup in two large gulps. The servant beside him was quick to pour a refill.
“You’re looking well, your majesty.”
The queen looked up after tucking a napkin into the front of her daughter’s dress, her smile a little more genuine for the old knight. “I could say the same for you, Sir Quintana. I suppose retirement agrees with you.” Her words were mostly polite platitudes. Her husband’s friend and protector looked just as tired as him.
“Hah! Despite my supposed retirement, I find myself constantly working.”
“The renowned commitment of a royal knight. The kingdom thanks you for your service. I hope our dear king isn’t pushing you too hard.”
“Nothing the old boy can’t handle,” Sebastian said over the rim of his glass. “I’ll need him to ride against the kingdom’s enemies once more. He’ll accompany Dowager to handle this supposed invasion.”
Samuel looked up from his meal. “Yes. Fighting against little men half his size should be a good test of my brother’s ability.”
The eldest prince glared at him. “Too bad you won’t be joining me brother, but never fear. You will face your own tempering.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Dowager.” Sebastian glared at his oldest before turning to Samuel. “We were having a discussion earlier. As you know, Reis recently visited Bobby at the Grand Hall.” The second prince stiffened at the mention of the school, setting down his fork and giving his father his full attention. “…he has decided that Bobby will be joining the next campaign to the Bleak Peaks.”
Bastian gasped and choked, hastily swallowing the food in his mouth and washing it down with a large gulp of wine. He cleared his throat, flushing as the table focused on him. “Forgive the interruption. I…well, isn’t that a bit harsh, Sir Reis? Everyone knows the Peaks are a death trap.”
The knight scoffed. “A man can find death everywhere. What matters is whether he’s strong enough to fight it off. A good fight is just what he needs.”
“You agreed to this father?” Samuel asked skeptically.
“Robert is Reis’ apprentice,” he said slowly. “And he isn’t wrong. Fort Victory has the strongest fighters outside of the royal knights. Beyond that, they are used to training others. It’s a good opportunity.”
“If he survives,” Bastian muttered, waving for a servant to refill his glass.
“Bobby’s going to go play with the monkeys!” Angelica shouted excitedly, flinging food from her plate as she dropped her fork. Angelleen was quick to sweep up the mess with a napkin and place the fork back in her daughter’s hand, quietly guiding her back to focusing on her dinner.
“Monkeys, huh?” Sir Quintana mused. “I suppose the knights of Victory look like trained monkeys to outsiders, thoughtlessly walking into war over and over again.”
“I think their determination is admirable,” Angelleen said. “Not many could fight a battle despite such odds.”
“Yes, they certainly have character in Fort Victory.” Sebastian took a large sip of wine. “While dangerous, it is a unique opportunity.” He paused. “One I thought you may be interested in, Samuel.”
The second prince froze, eyes widening. “Father…”
The king raised a hand. “I’ve decided that you will return to the Hall. There is no need for you to waste time lazing about the castle. Upon your return, you will make amends to all those you troubled with your…tantrum.”
Samuel’s lips twitched as he fought a sneer. “Yes, Father.”
“…you will make it back in time to sign up for the campaign if you wish. The conquering of the Bleak Peaks isn’t vital to the kingdom so it is your decision whether to risk your life for it. Think on it.”
“What is there to think about?” Dowager laughed. “What else is he supposed to do, lie around the dorm all day scratching his ass?”
“Language,” the queen said reflexively.
“Sorry, mother. I was simply trying to point out to my dear brother that he needs some accomplishments if he wants to measure up to half his ego.” He sneered at Samuel. “Otherwise, he’ll be a ghost haunting the banquets of the capital when he gets older, regretting what could have been. I rather not have another leech on the family’s gold.” His eyes cut to Bastian, who avoided his gaze.
“I am sure I can find something to do with myself better than drowning in snow,” Samuel said slowly.
“Enough, Dowager,” Sebastian said in his “kingly” voice, ending the spat. “It is his choice. Think carefully on it, Samuel. With great danger comes great reward.”
“I will,” the second prince said in a tone that said he wouldn’t.
“Your return to the Hall is not negotiable. The servants have already begun making preparations. Best to be on the road before the first snowfall.”
“Of course, Father.”
“What about you, Bastian?” Dowager said. “Both your brothers are off to fight mighty foes. You should join us, either of us.”
The third prince made no effort to hide his reluctance. “Unfortunately, I’m not much of a fighter. I shall leave the vanquishing of our family’s enemies to you.”
“Nonsense! There are plenty of exceptional knights with only one affinity. It is all about how you use it.”
“You’ve been listening to your maids too much, brother.”
Samuel snorted out a laugh as Dowager’s lips pressed into a frown. “Best leave it, brother. Bastian wouldn’t fare well in the harsh climate of the north. Without a steady supply of fine wines and desperate women, he’ll collapse before even seeing a monster.”
“Your brothers have a point,” the king mused, to all their surprise.
“You can’t be serious,” Bastian sputtered, cringing the next moment under the king’s glare.
“I tolerated your behavior before, hoping something would come of your association with the Grimoire heir.” Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “However, in the wake of his father’s death, Gordon has matured and changed his family’s ways. The more debauched nobles have lost their figurehead and their power. They are once again laughingstocks. You are a laughingstock and I cannot have one of my sons seen as a joke. It is time to grow up, Bastian.”
