Noble Arcana

Sister, you know you are always welcome back home with us, but I think I would rather be hunted in the woods then endure more than a single dinner with the Morrows.

Rentus Ryland in a letter to Deborah Morrow

Solomon walked to the formal dining hall with Melissa in tow. He had changed into a more formal suit meant for dining rather than keeping on his travelling clothes. As with when he’d travelled from the manor last time none of the green clothes felt as appealing to him once he was away from Moonfallow. Then again, he wouldn’t have felt a need to change at all back in his own manor where he would’ve been dining alone.

The dining hall was as ornate as the rest of the manor. With a long table carved with flowers all along its edge, a rug woven with rich red patterns, and a mural of the Herald answering a prayer from their ancestor painted on the ceiling above them. Every corner was carved with a stag head and no piece of silverware was without a pair of antlers stamped somewhere on it. Solomon, as a guest, sat to the right of Chorde with Jude to his left. Bernice sat next to Solomon, and their mother next to Jude with Chorde’s wife Katala next to their mother.

Chorde’s wife was a Thorne, and had the distinct dark hair and green eyes common in their house. Their father had sought to grow closer to the Thornes both through Chorde’s marriage and Solomon’s eldest sister Theodosia’s marriage to their once heir and now head of their family Duke Thorne.

Before the food was brought a cup of wine was given to each of them. It was tradition to spend a quarter hour drinking and making light conversation.

Solomon took a sip of the wine. By the taste he could tell it was one of those made from the Ryland vintners. They had always been famous for their wines, and their drinking.

“How goes the management of your new holdings?” asked Chorde in a monotone.

“It goes well. I have several investors interested in reopening a mine within it and restarting the logging in the woods as well. The manor itself is approaching an acceptable level as well.”

“Excellent. It will do our family only good to have such a holding minor turned into something of value.”

They had already had this conversation by letter. It was the only kind of conversation they had.

“I don’t think there’s any way you could make such a holding actually valuable,” remarked their mother. “To live so far from civilization. It is not safe. You would be wiser to sell it and buy something proper in Etling or even Brevantiss if you could afford it. You are not strong enough to keep such a wild place in line.”

Solomon kept his face neutral as she spoke.

“It is not so wild as that, mother.”

“Then why do I hear news of it so often? Mad mayors, kidnapped women? Dissidents!?” She shook her head. “You need to remember your limits.”

Jude smirked, twirling the wine in his cup. He was already on his second. “Yes. It certainly sounds like too much for sickly Solomon.”

Solomon looked at his older brother. He looked much the same as he did, but just a bit taller, a bit broader, his jaw more pronounced and his eyes a deeper gray. Memories of falling when running after him, of having a wooden sword ripped easily from his small hands all while hearing some fresh mockery. Sickly Solomon had been an apt nickname for him early in life. Things had changed though.

“If it had been too much for me, I’d be dead. Besides mother, all of those problems you listed are exactly why I need to be there. Moonfallow needs a firm hand, and I’m the one who can provide it.”

He took a sip of his wine.

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“But I don’t wish all of the conversations to be about me. How have things been in your new manor? Are you and Jude enjoying it?”

Bernice hid a smile by taking a sip of her wine and Jude hid a scowl by doing the same.

“It has been awful. Everything has needed to be redone. The wallpaper was an atrocious yellow color, the bedrooms all needed to be redone and the garden, gods, I just asked that everything be torn up and redone.” She looked to Jude and squeezed his shoulder affectionately. “I don’t think I could handle it were it not for your brother.”

“Well it’s a wonderful thing that he’s there to help you,” replied Solomon with a smile.

Jude glared at him and he met his gaze with his own. Things had changed and it seemed he needed to be reminded of that. Solomon was no longer trapped in the mansion with him and their father had made him their mother’s servant. He could still remember the smile on his face when he’d read that part of the Will. Before he’d read it he thought he may change what went to Jude, but their father had managed something far more fitting without him even needing to do anything. The former Lord Morrow had always had a unique talent when it came to harming his children, intentionally or not.

As the dinner continued the conversation gradually moved onto other subjects. The most recent meetings of parliament, the state of the empire’s interests across the sea, and the progress of Solomon’s niece and nephew. Duchess Katala and the former Duchess Deborah Morrow even discussed the latest collection of Lady Arbessa’s writing until Chorde could tolerate it no more and returned the conversation to what amounted to his schedule for the next month.

All throughout dinner, Jude continued giving the occasional glare to Solomon. Eventually he excused himself from the table.

After a few minutes Solomon felt his mana begin to churn and shift more and he felt his gut tighten. He excused himself as well, standing from the table and heading back into the hallway. Letting the sensations of growing disquiet caused by his mana guide him.

Eventually he came to the servant hallway, where he saw two maids and a footmen quickly walking away from a room further down the hall, their eyes averted from Solomon’s gaze. He walked quickly, catching a fragment of conversation.

‘-took a favorite of mine. So I think I’ll be having you.”

Solomon entered the room nearly at a run. Jude was facing away from him and Melissa was in the corner, her eyes wide with fear.

“It’s best to make things easy for me, but I won’t mind a bit of struggle. If you mark my face though, I’ll-”

Solomon didn’t stop moving, reaching forward and grabbing the back of Jude’s hair, yanking it back with all of his strength.

Jude let out a yelp and just barely managed to keep from losing his balance and falling.

“Melissa, go to the stables and check on Duncan,” he said as Jude pushed him away.

She listened, and dodged around both of them as Solomon landed against the wall with a handful of Jude’s hair.

Jude looked at him with madness in his eyes, his lips stained red from the wine he’d been drinking.

“You think to fight me? Come now Solomon. Land and people won’t make you bigger than me. Won’t make your fists actually land.” He stepped forward raising his fist and taking a stance before immediately hitting Solomon with a swift strike to each side of his jaw and then his gut.

The strikes were slow enough for Solomon to see, but not for him to avoid. Jude was arrogant, but it was an unfortunate truth that some of his arrogance was justified. He had always excelled at anything physical. Hunting, fencing, boxing, riding, he was considered a tremendous talent in all of them. He had even killed men in duels on two separate occasions after dishonoring them through their wives.

After the combo struck Solomon looked up at him and pushed himself off from the wall, brushing some dust from his jacket before fixing him with a stare. Thanks to the homunculi, he was completely unharmed.

Jude frowned, the struck him several more times, sending him back with enough force from the final strike that the wall behind him was dented.

Again Solomon dusted himself off.

“Jude, it’s not right to keep the dinner table waiting. If you want to waste time, that’s your business, but I will not be a poor guest.” He turned and walked away. He was tempted to send his brother backward with a gust, scorch him with spark, or even spear him through with blood, but that would be foolish. He tucked several strands of his brother’s hair into his pocket as he walked. He had a far better way to hurt him anyway.

He returned to the dinner table and finished the remaining courses as well as dessert. Jude never returned to it, but as Solomon’s mana didn’t begin to grow wild again, he presumed that both Melissa and Duncan were safe. He hadn’t considered that his mana would be a useful tool to detect if his people were in trouble, but he was glad of it. Had he not been there and Melissa had been harmed he would’ve spent the rest of the evening carving fresh dishonors on the Morrow name for all time using Jude’s body as the parchment.

When he returned to his room for the night, Melissa was not there, but Edmure had already taken care of all of his preparations for the evening. It was likely all of the staff knew what had occurred.

When he was certain he was alone, he pulled a small canvas bag from deep within his luggage.