Chapter Ten #2
Tor had learned long ago that declining the hospitality of his people was not an option, even if they could ill afford it.
Trying to pay them didn’t work well, either.
But Tor had gotten sneakier, and if the children each ended up with a copper, or several were found after he left, well… that was pure chance.
“Fella-root would be lovely, thank you.”
Even if Varex would agree that a few sips of ale while visiting people didn’t count—and there was no saying he would—Tor would be sloshed by the time they finished all the visits and got back to the castle.
He and his spoiled palate preferred tea, but as that was imported from the mainland at vast expense, it was available in well-to-do households only.
Fella-root grew across the entirety of the United Realms. Skinned, sliced, and steeped in water, it offered a perfectly acceptable hot beverage that was a bit spicy and a bit bitter. It could be sweetened with honey.
He’d drunk a lot of it with guards over the years.
In came the farmers with lots of bows that Tor swept aside and then, seeing the tightening of Pelun’s jaw, he realized that he’d started to take charge again. These were Pelun’s people, and Tor needed to learn to share, didn’t he?
So he sat back, and although Pelun eyed him—suspiciously—he easily took over, introducing Tor and explaining that he was visiting with the royal family and wanted to take the opportunity to visit more of the citizens of Tond.
They all seemed a little bit awed by this magnificence, and he could see from Pelun’s expression—though it was mostly schooled—that if they’d been alone, he would have had a few choice things to say about that.
Tor flashed his best grin at them.
“It’s not very often that I get this far north, and I figured I should see if everything works the same way up here as it does down south.” Pelun stiffened, but Tor ignored him. “Tell me, does the sun still rise in the east?”
There was a moment of blankness, like the notion that he could have made a joke was completely foreign to them, and then everyone dissolved into laughter—even the children too small to have understood the joke.
He’d found that humor was usually a great leveler. Plus, there wasn’t always enough laughter in people’s lives, and Tor thought that if the one thing that he managed to do as a prince was bring some levity to them, then it would still be a life well spent, never mind what his brother said.
Pelun’s expression said he might think the same as Varex, unfortunately, but attempt at courting or not, Tor wasn’t going to change how he approached people.
“Now,” Tor said with an open smile, “why don’t you tell me what you like best about working the land?”
At the end of the day, Tor awaited Pelun’s verdict with bated breath—while trying not to look as though he were the least bit concerned.
Pelun eyed him, and then said reluctantly, “That wasn’t as completely terrible as I thought it would be.”
Wow.
“You really know how to roll out the compliments,” Tor said, kind of impressed.
Pelun shrugged. “I’d be willing to do it again.”
Tor was going to leap at the chance, despite the fact that he’d just been insulted.
He grinned. “It’s almost as if you like spending time with me.”
Pelun scoffed. “When I go with you, they don’t spend as much time going on and on and on about you.”
And Tor could do nothing but laugh, a curious feeling of elation filling him, especially when he caught the small quirk of Pelun’s lips and realized that he was suppressing a smile.
They were making progress, and they continued to make progress over the next few days.
It also helped that when Tor was out visiting the people, Larexa and Bavil were allowed to go about their days in the way they preferred.
Tor was a little surprised that Forex didn’t want them to escort him, but he was pretty sure it showed the value the King put on the task.
He let Tor get away with it because Tor couched it as his duty as the High Prince.
And the man never seemed to notice what his middle child was doing.
Tor was pretty sure that he’d have punched Forex in the face long since—but he didn’t have to live with the man long-term.
While Pelun spent a lot of time checking in with the farmers, who were a bit further away and thus had a harder time getting to the castle to report any issues, he also checked in with the villagers and townsfolk.
When it came down to it, most people had broadly similar preoccupations.
They wanted to be safe, healthy, and well fed.
Given the option, they’d prefer to have more wealth rather than less, but comfortable people tended to be happier people.
These people were… mostly happy. But just like the farmers felt like it was getting harder to farm, that the work was getting harder and the yield smaller, Tor couldn’t mistake the underlying sentiment that things were wearing out and weren’t being replaced as quickly as they could.
Baless… wasn’t what Tor had come to expect from a capital city, though he reminded himself that Nexa was the capital city of the United Realms, not just Alossa. Maybe he was just spoiled.
The school roof leaked, though, and with the large amount of rain they’d had so far this spring, the concerned townsfolk weren’t sure that a patch job was going to fix it again. Pelun was clearly uncomfortable with Tor hearing all of this, though he assured them that the patch would be inspected.
Tor was certain that if Pelun had his way, there would have been a new roof on the schoolhouse long since. Tor didn’t think there was a lack of funds, but he didn’t actually know the state of King Forex’s coffers.
Tor believed firmly in the education of children, and so after dinner that night, he went on a ten-minute monologue about all the work the High King was doing to make sure that the schools in Alossa were the best they could be.
“I know there’s that old nonsense about keeping people illiterate so they don’t think for themselves, but the truth of the matter is that people always think for themselves.
If we give them the tools to do so wisely, then they’re making smarter decisions.
So yes, maybe a blacksmith’s child realizes they want to bake or a farmer’s daughter is good at sums—but figuring that out and getting them into the right job means they’re more productive.
” He flashed a grin at the King. “And who doesn’t want more productive taxpayers, right? ”
Forex’s dark eyes bore into his for a moment, and then he nodded. “Yes, productive taxpayers are something we always need more of. We actually just received a request for school improvements and have approved them.”
Tor flashed him another grin. “It seems that great minds think alike.”
The King seemed well satisfied with that, Tor was well pleased with his work, and Pelun… glowered.
Tor had really thought he’d appreciate that particular bit of fancy wording, but the next day, the other man told him, “I could have sorted it out,” and Tor realized that he’d stepped on a different set of toes than those he’d been carefully avoiding.
And Tor didn’t want to call the other man a liar, but it was pretty clear the King didn’t heed a lot of what Pelun was saying.
“Of course you could have,” Tor agreed instead. “I assume that’s what you’ve been doing for years.”
It had been obvious from the start that Pelun cared a great deal about these people.
Carefully, Tor suggested, “But isn’t it nice if occasionally, you don’t have to?”
Pelun looked at him like he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with him.
Several days later, Pelun confessed, “I thought you were just being silly at first. But I can see that it works for you to set people at ease with humor. And you actually listen. Lots of people don’t.”
Pelun, it was clear, was extremely attentive. He knew most of these people by name, their circumstances, their children, and their preoccupations. He followed up with issues they’d mentioned on previous visits. He had a head for details.
It was an immensely attractive trait, and Tor found to his surprise that he was thinking about how useful it would actually be in Tor’s position. He was decently good with names and faces, but he didn’t have Pelun’s knack.
When they left the last farm, Tor said, “You have a gift.”
Pelun looked at him… suspiciously.
Tor wondered what it would take to get the man to accept a compliment and not assume that Tor was…
what, setting him up for humiliation? If that was the case, then Tor needed to have a serious talk with whoever had crushed the man’s self-confidence to this degree.
He was oddly self-possessed at the same time that there were these streaks of vulnerability a mile wide.
Tor found himself wanting to intervene with Pelun’s family, even as he told himself that such intervention was unlikely to be welcome.
It was harder than he thought to see something that was wrong and know that he had to leave it alone.
Tor concentrated on trying to explain himself now in such a way that he wasn’t going to offend the other man.
“I thought I was good at names and faces, but you’re miles ahead of me.”
Pelun took a moment, as though he needed to digest those words and look for hidden barbs.
He finally said, “They’re my people,” like that explained everything.
“And does your father know as much about them?” Tor pursued. “Your brother or sister?”
Pelun hesitated for a moment. “No. But I have to be good for something, don’t I?”
Tor barely managed not to wince and said vehemently, “It goes far beyond that. You make them feel valued.”
“They already have value!” Pelun said vehemently.
“Of course they do,” Tor agreed, making Pelun look slightly less as though he were going to hit Tor again. “But that doesn’t mean they always feel valued. You ensure that they’re seen and recognized in a system that sometimes aggregates them more than it should.”