Finneas followed, finding a place in the corner of the room, at a desk where he could attend to the papers under his arms out of the way but not out of earshot.

“Your servant is going to attend our courtship arrangements?” The distaste in the man’s voice was poorly concealed. Finneas fixed his eyes to the papers in front of him. He didn’t want to see those eyes on him, raking down him until they fixated on the golden bracers on his wrists. He had seen the same glare enough times to know it without looking.

“Finneas remains at my side in case I need anything.”

A hush filled the air, and Finneas grit his teeth as he scanned the documents before him, not taking in any of the information written on them. “I see. I believe I did hear that you have a rather special relationship with your personal attendant. Tell me, if I may ask, do you not find it strange to keep a magician as your aid?”

Perhaps he was giving the man too much credit, but Finneas had thought he might have more tact to ask that outright within minutes of meeting Maron. However, the streak of unfortunate topics remained unbroken. That, he was sure, was due to the fact that Altrusia himself was quite unfortunate.

“I don’t tend to think of it like that. Finneas is the best person for the job, and I enjoy his company. I won’t blame a people for the actions of one man.”

The line was practiced and somewhat rehearsed. Maron’s opinions as the future monarch were asked often by curious visitors and court politicians alike. This was a stock answer that he had found to be helpful– it left him sounding forgiving enough, but did not give too much away about his own plans regarding policy. Still, calculated as it was, it was enough for Finneas. It was honest, and it was better than a thousand other less kind stances he could have taken.

“Let’s discuss more pertinent matters. Please, tell me about yourself.”

Finneas was grateful for the shift in tone, as he could no longer feel Altrusia’s target set in his direction. However, it became quickly apparent that the man could talk about himself more than almost anyone.

 “I’m sure you already know the stories, Your Highness. It seems most people do these days. I was a prominent figure in the war with Eteria and brought my family into nobility. We own land throughout the kingdom now, with very profitable factories. I’ve had the honor of your father’s favor, and I am hoping to receive yours as well.”

The Altrusia family was new to nobility. In the four years since they had been given a title, they had focused solely on increasing their wealth and influence. That had always put Finneas off– it was fine if an aristocrat wanted to enjoy the benefits of their title. It was an honor, and to receive such high standing after living a commoner’s life was a massive shift. The newfound money and freedom was exciting. Still, when there was not so much as an attempt at philanthropy, even just to keep up appearances, it made him untrusting. How selfish could a man be not to give back some small part of the fortune that had been bestowed upon him?

“I do know the story. My father speaks fondly of you. Tell me, what brought you to the military to begin with? What was your life like before?”

Altrusia paused at that. Finneas glanced up from the papers. From where he sat, it was difficult to see much more than Altrusia’s back and Maron’s tired but interested expression. Still, the man looked tense, as if he was unsure how to go about answering.

He was, thankfully, given some chance to consider how he would like to respond, as a knock came at the door. It opened, and a woman with voluminous curls and a small tray in hand stepped inside. She curtsied with practiced ease before making her way to the table. “My apologies for interrupting, Your Highness, Lord Altrusia. I brought refreshments.” Carefully, she placed a cup before Maron–Finneas didn’t have to look at it to know that it was a sickly sweet coffee, filled so much with sugar that the granules couldn’t fully dissolve. Maron, for all of his virtues, was almost sickening in his sweets habits.

“Thank you, Patricia.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” She placed another cup in front of Altrusia before stepping away from the table, making her way to Finneas. She smiled as she approached and he returned it. “Hello, little brother,” she said as she placed a mug of hot tea before him. “I thought you’d like something as well.”

“Thank you, Miss Patricia.” Patricia had been working in the place for longer than Finneas had been alive. An older woman, due to retire at any moment, she had always been around, offering tea and a pat on the back whenever either was needed. She clasped his shoulder, nodded, and disappeared from the room with ease.

Finneas took the drink in his hands, taking a moment’s pause from pretending to pay attention to the documents in front of him. They were, for the most part, invitations, schedules, and requests for information on Maron’s upcoming birthday. Most of it would be easy enough to coordinate if he sat down with it before bed. For now, it served almost entirely as a way to make himself look as though he wasn’t eavesdropping.

“You asked what I was like before the war,” Altrusia said. “If I’m honest, it was nothing too special. I studied until my father lost his job at a factory. I wouldn’t allow us to be destitute, so I joined the fight. Fortunately, I excelled. My family now owns the factory that fired him.” The cocky grin was obvious in his voice, even without Finneas looking up to see it directly.

“That is fortunate. Did you ever get to finish your schooling?”

A dry laugh. “No. I decided that with everything I earned in battle, there was no point in trying to make my way through higher education. I can fight, and my lands and factories make plenty of income, so I feel no need to concern myself with anything else. Are you finished with your own education?”

“I receive lessons from scholars and strategists throughout the week. If I’m going to be a ruler, I’d like to be current with everything.” It was always impressive how Maron could speak without sounding condescending, even when he perhaps had the right to be. If this man was trying to court him so that he could be an equal ruler of the kingdom, to scoff at the idea of further education was a bleak sign. Maron always handled things like that well. Better than Finneas could imagine himself doing, at the very least.

“That’s a good outlook. Tell me, what are you looking for in a husband? Are you the romantic type?”

“I’m afraid not. In looking for a partner, what concerns me most is that they be a good leader. If a man doesn’t offer the kingdom something of value, I have little interest in him ruling by my side.” Maron sipped his coffee.

“I believe two people can be both good leaders and excellent lovers. Particularly if both are beautiful and they have rather good chemistry.” His voice was low and dripping like oil.

Hearing this, Finneas resolved to ask for a raise. He hoped that his mother’s old stories about portraits did not extend to the spirit’s hearing. Surely, Lenore was close enough she would have overheard that, and if it made Finneas uncomfortable, he couldn’t imagine hearing it as a mother.

“Perhaps.” Maron paused. “Finneas, do you have the time?”

When Finneas turned himself more fully toward the table, he could see Maron holding up two fingers beneath its surface. “We’ll need to leave shortly so that you can eat before your next appointment.”

Maron nodded, letting out a soft sigh. “My apologies, Lord Altrusia.” He rose. “I will write to you when I am available to have a longer conversation.”

Finneas stood before Maron, tucking his papers until his arm and moving toward the table. He pulled out the man’s chair, and stood close by as he gathered his crutches. As he stood there, he did his best to avoid looking at Altrusia directly, but those frigid eyes watched him in his peripheral.

“Thank you for having me, Your Highness. I hope we will meet again very soon.”

Finneas did his best to make their exit quick, leaving Altrusia in the library. He also did his best not to look the painting of Lenore in the eyes. The pair walked the halls silently, the only sounds being those of footfalls landing and crutches clacking. It was difficult for Finneas to keep his expression neutral, but he held his face steady as they returned to Maron’s room. With the door shut securely behind them, he allowed himself a quiet sigh.

Damon Altrusia was a sickening creature. If it was only a hatred of magic, Finneas could deal with that. The looks he had received in that library were not the first of their kind. It wasn't as if he was unused to people casting judgment upon him when they saw the cuffs on his wrists. However, the way he spoke to Maron in combination with that was off putting.

Usually, there was an immediate debrief of the suitor when they returned to Maron’s room. It was good for them to exchange perspectives. Even if Finneas knew that Maron wouldn’t say yes to any of the offers given, the people who courted him held political power and those meetings offered insight into their personal opinions better than most more formal ones could. From his place further away, Finneas could pick up on things differently than Maron could when he was seated directly in front of them and required to focus on upholding an end of the conversation.

There was, however, no need to compare thoughts about Damon Altrusia.

“Please draft a declination letter for me,” Maron said, collapsing into a loveseat.

Finneas nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Author's Note

Aaaaaa I'm so excited for this chapter! Thanks so much for reading! Also, a huge thank you to everyone who's subbed to my Patreon and found me on Twitter/Tumblr (I'm FlowerForAbel on all of those)! I was able to commission the amazing Ottermelon for even more great art of the boys and can't wait for you to see! I'll update again with more GF on 10/21!