Chapter Sixteen #2
Upon sober reflection, it was probably a combination of the two.
Varex had acted like Tor had to earn back the Crown’s trust—while preventing him from doing anything that might allow him to do so.
Tor had responded by being as irresponsible as possible, which obviously didn’t help his case, but at the time, it had felt like the only thing he could do.
Would it have been different if Tor had approached it differently? It had felt like all the decisions had already been made, but maybe that was all Tor had been able to see.
He had his troop, and those guards had always stuck by him. They congratulated one another when things went well and commiserated when they went poorly. But Tor didn’t remember being truly thanked for what he’d done, not like this.
Maybe that was still tied up with his duty, whereas this had been simply something he could do. Yes, he was the High Prince, but Tond wasn’t his home. He’d just been in the right place at the right time.
The bath was glorious, banishing the chill that had permeated his bones and letting him get properly cleaned. It was the beginning of June, but somehow, the unrelenting rain created a damp that made it feel like it was still February.
By the time he and Pel made it to dinner, the King had heard about what had happened.
“It appears that we have you to thank,” the man said, gazing sourly at Tor.
It was clear he didn’t like to be beholden to anyone.
His children were united for once in their joint annoyance at this behavior, but Tor gave a little shake of his head, and Pel subsided angrily. Bavil and Larexa exchanged glances, and then they didn’t say anything either.
“It was pure chance that I was there at the right moment. No one expected rain as bad as this, which made the river rise past every high-water mark. I’d guess that with another hour or two of work, they wouldn’t even have needed my intervention.”
“They should have gotten to it sooner,” the King argued promptly.
Because of course he did.
“It was certainly too bad that no one could be spared to advise you sooner so that the guards could have been dispatched to assist,” Tor agreed smoothly, as though that had been what the King had been saying.
Pel looked down at his plate, and Tor couldn’t tell if he was still angry or was trying not to betray his amusement. Tor hoped it was the latter.
“We’ve got guards there now that we’re aware,” the King pointed out virtuously.
“Of course you do,” Tor agreed, as though he didn’t know Pel had been the one to send them. “I’d expect no less. We had a similar series of flooding a year or two ago in the east of Alossa. The King had to keep sending guards to assist. It took weeks of work.”
“Waste of money,” the King grumbled. “Should have done the work correctly to start.”
“You know,” Tor said pensively, “that does sound like a much wiser idea. I’ll make sure to mention it to my brother.”
As he’d expected, King Forex looked altogether pleased at the idea that he’d thought of something before the High King. With him in a more jovial mood, it was an almost convivial dinner.
In the sitting room, as soon as he joined her at the piano, Larexa said, “Your brother fortified the embankment as soon as he knew there was a problem, didn’t he?”
Varex had revised the entire inspection and reporting process to try to ensure nothing like that ever happened again.
“Hmm?” Tor murmured.
She laughed. “All right, keep your very diplomatic silence.” She sobered, and told him very seriously, “Thank you. Pel has been trying for ages to get Father to see the severity of the situation. Father wouldn’t have reacted until everything flooded, and then he would have been angry and blamed everyone else.
I think he’ll actually have proper repairs done now. ”
“I’m glad.”
She was playing a very sprightly, happy melody, and Tor couldn’t help but grin.
“Is your supply of mental music inexhaustible?”
Larexa laughed. “If I’ve played it before, I remember it.
It just sort of sticks in my head. And if I get bored, then I make something up.
” She cast an arch look his way. “So I have enough material for you to be ostensibly turning pages for me forever. If, for example, you happened to have a reason to stay for quite some time.”
Tor rolled his eyes. “Don’t even go there. We’re friends, and that’s great, but it’s pretty clear I got a little overexcited about what might happen while I was here.”
She raised a delicately arched eyebrow. “Are you saying that you’re giving up?”
Tor blew out a breath. “I’m saying that I’m not going to do anything your brother doesn’t want.”
She considered him for a long moment, and then she smiled again. “That’s more than fair.”
Tor suddenly had the feeling they weren’t having the conversation he thought they were having. And then what she’d said a moment ago actually processed in his brain. “Wait. Are you actually making this music up as you go along?”
She grinned at him. “I sure am.”
Tor’s mind boggled. She could make up music and carry on a conversation with him at the same time? And both were coherent?
Larexa was laughing merrily. “Oh, you should see your face.”
“I’m really impressed,” Tor said blankly. “Wow.”
Larexa’s expression was wry. “Says the man who single-handedly held up an embankment today in order to save everyone.”
It was Tor’s turn to laugh. “That was brute strength.”
But she shook her head. “No, it was a lot more than that. I couldn’t have done it, not even if I were as strong as you, and I don’t think I am.
But I couldn’t have reacted as quickly. I haven’t been training since I was fourteen.
You didn’t suddenly know how to do what you did, you trained for it for years.
So, if we’re talking about things that we’re impressed by, then you should know that I’m equally impressed by you.
You’re good at what you trained to do, and I’m good at what I trained to do. Finding your passion is important.”
Tor could definitely see that music was Larexa’s passion, but he wasn’t as certain that he’d found his. He’d done his duty… until he hadn’t done his duty—and now it felt like he was doing his duty again, but maybe in a more natural way than before.
Had he wanted to be the captain of the guard? If it had been his passion, as Larexa said, might he have fought harder to explain himself and keep the title? Or had it been a bit of a relief even as he’d burned with the shame of all his mistakes?
He certainly hadn’t made Darmila’s transition easy, and she’d never done a thing wrong, apart from being named captain of the guard after him. They had a reasonable relationship now, but Tor mostly stayed out of her way, and he was pretty sure she appreciated that.
Ugh. What was it about Tond that made him question everything about himself?
Striving for a light tone, he told Larexa, “I guess we’re both going to have to be impressed with one another.”
She grinned back, and she then brought the sprightly tune that she was making up as she went along to an end with a flourish.
Tor was definitely still in awe. She winked at him.
“That was wonderful,” he told her.
Passions were commonly thought to be goddess-blessed, and Tor wondered if people were somehow able to put a little bit of their magic into efforts that weren’t normally magical.
Tor had often heard it conflated with duty, a reason why healers could heal, why Illustrious guards were so good at Mantling, why rulers were able to protect their people and make the land flourish.
But he wondered if it extended all the way to people like Larexa, who didn’t want to use her magic for offense, who was never going to find a passion in defense, but who loved music so fiercely.
Then he looked over at Pel, who was looking at the two of them with a very neutral expression on his face, the one that he tended to adopt whenever he was with his family for too long.
Maybe it didn’t matter whether you had a lot of magic or not. Pel was brimming with passion.
And one of his passions was archery. With the promise of the rain finally tapering off, Tor didn’t want to delay any longer. He sauntered over to the man.
“We never did manage that archery competition.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Pel’s concerned gaze roamed over Tor.
“Absolutely,” he promised. “I can even rest and recover if you want, because I was thinking, wouldn’t it be nice if the people had a bit of a break? What if they came to watch?”
Tor had apparently been speaking more loudly than he realized, because the King said suddenly, “Watch? Watch what?”
Before Tor knew it, the entire family was involved in the planning of an archery competition that had definitely grown beyond just Pel and Tor entertaining one another.
Tor watched how, with a few deft touches, Bavil made sure King Forex thought that he was the one who suggested that they invite the villagers and civilians, a way to help them relax after all the hard work and danger they’d undergone with the flooding, which would ensure that they worked harder than ever afterwards.
There was even going to be ale and food, maybe dancing.
Pel looked the way he usually did when he was with his family… except there was also an undercurrent of excitement and pride. This was one activity where he believed in himself—and perhaps where he felt that it was so demonstrable that others had to believe in him, too.
Tor eyed Pel and gave a sort of shrug and grimace to try to show that he hadn’t actually meant for this to get out of hand.
Pel’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really want all those people to see you lose?”
Tor grinned, loving Pel’s confidence. “I absolutely do.”
“You’re on,” Pel said, a smile curving his lips and a bright spark in his eyes.
Fortunately, they were surrounded by Pel’s family, so Tor didn’t lose his head and try to kiss him again.