Lucky Rabbit

The three men turned back to see who the woman was talking to. The older man’s brows lifted ever so slightly, the younger man looked confused, and Lord Andres Forrest looked distinctly shocked and displeased for a full two and a half seconds. Not that anyone was counting. Except Pandy, who made meticulous mental notes so she could remember that moment for years to come.

Pandy did her best to look confused, and just to make it very clear that she – or rather, Thaniel – had no idea who the woman was, she said, “I’m sorry, who are you, ma’am?”

Letting out another little sob, the black-clad lady turned to Dear Uncle Andres. Reaching out with a trembling hand, she said, “He doesn’t even remember me, Andres.” Back to Pandy-Thaniel. “I was only able to visit you once, when you were first born. Your father… did not encourage visitors, as I’m certain you know.”

Her voice never lowered, and she made no attempt to come closer, for which Pandy was grateful, but Lady Victoria Forrest was clearly playing to an audience. An audience which was full of little pitchers with big ears. Where did that saying come from, anyway? Were there actual historical pitchers with ears carved into them?

Looking toward Augustus, Pandy spoke up as clearly as she could. If their opponents planned to use the children in this room as a way to reach the Very Important Parents of those children, then Pandy and Augustus would have to do the same. It was the plan, after all. “Uncle Augustus used to visit us all the time, didn’t you?” If this woman couldn’t even be bothered to seek out her brother’s children after said brother supposedly died, well, she didn’t deserve Thaniel, and Pandy wasn’t going to spare her.

Augustus didn’t even bother to stand, using the platform on which his chair sat to its greatest advantage. “I did indeed, Thaniel,” he agreed, giving Pandy a warm smile. “I always found your mother and father to be quite welcoming.”

Andres spluttered. “I say, are you claiming that my mother-”

Lady Victoria laid her hand on his arm, stepping forward to stare up at Augustus while somehow conveying the idea that she was actually looking down on him. Pandy would have been impressed if she hadn’t felt such an instant distaste for the other woman.

“I’m certain our experiences were quite different,” she said coldly. “After all, Grace never did care for anyone who might come before her in Bryan’s affections, and she knew how close we’d been as children. Besides, everyone knows you were her favorite… cousin.”

What was with that pause before ‘cousin’? And Pandy had heard quite a different story about Victoria and Bryan’s relationship as children. As she understood it, once Victoria moved away, she never looked back, and Bryan was perfectly happy to leave it that way.

Augustus’s cheekbones darkened slightly before he got himself under control, but something the woman said had definitely hit a sore point. He pushed his glasses up his nose with his middle finger before responding, “I’m curious, madam, why you have entered my school uninvited. I don’t believe you have any children young enough to attend, and you’ve not yet been graced with grandchildren.”

Now it was Victoria’s turn to look irritated, though it was difficult to tell beneath her veil and the pale makeup that coated her skin. “I heard that my precious nephew has been… struggling lately, and of course I wished to see with my own eyes whether or not it was true. There’s simply no need for him to even be attending school yet. Not when Forrest House would be happy to welcome him. We can certainly afford the best tutors, who could give him the individual attention he needs.”

Coldly, Augustus said, “Bryan and Grace sent their elder son to Condor and then Kestrel, and Bryan had already enrolled Thaniel in Condor when he passed. The Crown saw no reason to go against the clear wishes of their parents.”

Dismissing her with a cut of his eyes, he focused instead on the three men. “And how may I help you gentlemen? I’m afraid I only recognize one of you.” The tone of his voice left no doubt as to his feelings regarding that one, and from the murmuring that came from all around, that fact wasn’t lost on at least some of the children, as well as the adults.

“This is my solicitor, Lord Ezekiel Wheeler,” Andres said, smiling smugly as another murmur swept the room. “I’ve come to officially challenge your position as a potential guardian for Nathaniel and Killian, as well as,” he paused dramatically, “present evidence as to your unsuitability to be chancellor of Falconet.”

Settling back in his chair, Augustus laced his fingers together across his stomach and raised his brows. “Indeed. And you decided that storming into a room full of children at,” he glanced pointedly at the clock on the wall, “not yet eight-thirty in the morning was the best time and place to present such a case? I would think calling a meeting of the school board or even going directly to the Queen herself would be the more reasonable course.”

Except that the point was to make certain the greatest possible number of people heard about this. Children were magpies, talking about anything and everything that happened around them, though they often missed the subtleties, which could lead to some very amusing discussions between them later on.

Raising his chin, Andres said, “I could not, in good conscience, delay even a moment after learning the truth about you.” He didn’t elaborate, just allowed the word to ripple outwards, driving curiosity like a wave as he smirked up at his enemy.

“I see,” Augustus murmured. “And of course your timing has nothing at all to do with a rumor that Thaniel had run away. Which, as you can see, is entirely false.”

Most of the faces in the room looked surprised at this. The second and third-years generally had better things to do than pay attention to a bunch of snot-nosed eight-year-olds. The third-years were especially caught by surprise. The vast gap caused by their advanced age was simply insurmountable for most of them, especially since they’d be going off to Kestrel at the end of the year.

But the ones Pandy found interesting weren’t those who nodded at Augustus’s comment. She watched for those who didn’t look bewildered, but then pretended that they were. Those would be the ones who felt that they needed to cover up their natural reactions, which indicated a guilty conscience, or at least awareness that they were complicit in something that needed to be concealed.

Lamonia and Matthias were among these, as was Matilda, but not Suzanne, which indicated that the young pheromone mage hadn’t yet told her best friend what was going on. There were a few others, however, including one of the teachers: a pretty blonde woman with the barest beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners of her brown eyes. Pandy noticed Augustus noticing her as well, his sharp gaze lingering on the young teacher’s faux-startled look.

Before any more barbs could be exchanged, the solicitor – was that another word for a lawyer? because if so, the man was the most lawyerly lawyer Pandy had ever seen – stepped forward and opened his briefcase. Lifting out a thick packet of papers, he handed it to Augustus, not even seeming to notice how far up he had to reach in order to do so.

“In the absence of a duly appointed guardian, custody of Killian and Nathaniel Conroy reverts by right to the nearest surviving relative, namely my client, the children’s paternal aunt, the Crown’s prior assumption of authority notwithstanding,” he said, no hint of emotion entering his voice. It was deep and clear, with a sense of authority that Pandy could feel even though it wasn’t directed at her.

In an equally dispassionate tone, Augustus said, “And yet, when the Crown reached out to Lady Forrest, she didn’t even bother to reply, much less attempt to see her orphaned nephews. Instead, she left them in the custody of strangers until I said I would take on the responsibility.”

The lawyer reached into his briefcase and removed a second set of papers, even as he said, “My client was, at the time, newly bereaved and in no condition to correspond on matters of such gravity. That temporary silence should not be mistaken for disinterest.”

Laying the new papers in front of Augustus – carefully avoiding a half-eaten pancake and the plate on which it rested – he added, “And these are papers detailing certain matters you may prefer remain private. We are prepared to substantiate them with credible testimony, should it become necessary. In light of this, my client requests that you step down from your position as Chancellor, thus avoiding any formal proceedings which could embarrass yourself and the person who sponsored you to your current position.”

Augustus looked down at the papers, scanning them. This was the part they couldn’t plan for, since they had no real idea what the Shadow Exchange thought they’d found. Augustus had only said he could ‘think of a few things it might be’, but none of it was anything they could do anything about in the time they had.

Silently, he turned pages, and Pandy saw his eyes narrow as a tiny smile turned up one corner of his mouth. His body relaxed so subtly that someone who hadn’t spent so much time staring at him – that was, in his company – wouldn’t have noticed.

“Am I correct,” Augustus said, “that because a low-level accountant was unable to find records pertaining to my enlistment, commission, or compensation associated with military service, you have come to the conclusion that I lied about being retired from military service?” He gave the young, nervous-looking man a sharp look, and the man first wilted, then struggled to straighten his shoulders again.

“I’m a Third-Level Clerk of Special Disbursements,” the young man said with great pride, in spite of Dear Uncle Andres’ quelling glare. “My security level is such that I even handle records pertaining to the Knights of the Royal Eagle. But I’ve never once seen your name cross my desk.”

“And yet here you are, violating your oath of secrecy in order to aid a noble who has undoubtedly promised ample compensation,” Augustus murmured bitingly, clearly unimpressed.

The younger man drew himself up even further, almost bringing his eyes level with Augustus’s chest. “I’m doing this because I value my oath, and the men and women it protects. We can’t simply allow those who have never served to trade upon the respect and honor others have earned.”

Turning back to Lord Ezekiel, Augustus pointedly eyed the solicitor’s square shoulders and stiff posture. “And you, sir? You look like a former military man yourself.”

Showing a hint of emotion for the first time, the lawyer nodded in pride. “That’s why I took on the case. It’s a bit out of my usual purview, but honor is not a thing to be borrowed.” There was a silent, ‘You should be ashamed of yourself’ that came through as clearly as the spoken words.

Rather than arguing, Augustus did something unexpected: he flicked his fingers at the solicitor, half-hiding the gesture behind the folders he still held. Lord Ezekiel the Solicitor stiffened, turning away from the others so he could return the signal, his own hands held low and the motions little more than twitches of his fingers. A beat of silence passed as the two men exchanged gestures, before Lord Ezekiel reached up and took the second set of papers back from Augustus, who made no effort to hold onto them.

Turning to Andres and the clerk, Lord Ezekiel held up the papers, then dropped them. An unfelt gust of wind caught them on the way down, tearing every page into flecks of confetti that would have made an industrial shredder oil itself with envy.

“I hereby withdraw myself from your employment, Lord Forrest,” the lawyer said. “The case to remove, ah, Mr. Blackwood from his position will not succeed. My final recommendation to you as your solicitor is to abandon it before you bring humiliation upon yourself and your house.”

Facing Augustus again, Lord Ezekiel snapped out a perfect salute, saying, “It was an honor to meet you, sir. While I’m afraid it would be a conflict of interest for me to offer to represent you in the other matter brought before you today, I can certainly recommend a few very capable solicitors, should you require counsel. Good day.” With that, he gave a deep and respectful bow before turning and leaving the room.