23 Dove #2
“To be fair, that was mainly because I couldn’t stand how smug and sheltered you were,” Mae said, her eyes wet.
“I am so happy that you came here. That my parents foisted you upon me as a bodyguard, that you match me step for step, that you force me to be better. Do better.” I took a deep breath and let it out steadily.
“I—I care about you, Mae. And I want to do this for you and your brother. Please, let me.”
She studied me for several long moments. I held my breath. Then she squeezed my hand back, nodded once, quickly, and said, “Okay. Yes. I accept. For Balfie’s sake. And—and thank you, Dove. Truly.”
I let out a whoosh of air from my lungs and grabbed her in a tight hug. “Excellent! As soon as we finish up here, I’ll head to my office and figure this out. Write to our solicitor and my parents as well. Hopefully, we can get this taken care of soon. When does the merchant next come to visit?”
“In about a month,” Mae said.
I nibbled my lower lip in thought. “Could we send word to him, perhaps? Let him know that he’ll have coin for a full crystal, so he can start asking around?”
“Maybe. I don’t think Bastion will set sail for another few weeks. I can check with Prioress the Younger—she knows his schedule and whereabouts best. They’re close correspondents.”
I nodded, saying, “Do it. The sooner we get in touch with him, the better.” Mae looked off into the distance, brow furrowed again. I squeezed her hand in question, and she shook her head, sighing.
“Will your parents even agree to this?” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s unusual for nobles to sell land from their family estate, isn’t it?”
“It’s unusual, but not unheard of. And our estate is quite large.
There are whole fields in the far northeast section, in particular, that haven’t been used properly in years.
Acres of the wood that we rarely traverse and don’t need for game.
My parents may be, ah, resistant to the idea, but I’m sure I can bring them around. ”
Resistant put it lightly. Mother and Father would be appalled.
Even after we went bankrupt, when they’d had to sell off everything else we owned, they’d abhorred the thought of reducing our family estate.
It represented our legacy, they felt—the last substantial thing they had that couldn’t be taken from them.
Even though we had no use for most of it anymore.
Even though it was impossible to maintain without all the staff we’d had to let go, the coin needed to run the place.
The grounds became overgrown, the hedges and gardens wild and unruly.
Fields lay fallow, since the families who once cared for them had had to search for other jobs once we’d stopped paying them.
Things fell into disrepair, small problems snowballing into disasters that we hadn’t the power to fix.
The orchards suffered, even with Choia and I tending to them ourselves.
It wasn’t until the darkest days, when our situation became truly desperate, that my parents decided to finally look into selling part of the lands. A small part.
They would not, I felt sure, take kindly to the idea this time either.
But I was a different person now. I knew what had to be done, and rather than waiting for my parents to solve the problem for me, I would take matters into my own hands.
Whether they tried to ignore it or not, the fact remained that I now held the power in our family.
Without my magic, and my jewels funding our livelihoods, we still had virtually nothing other than their art collection and the various articles of furniture and clothes that they’d been slowly refilling the manor with.
Despite my best efforts, I only had a small amount of coin held in savings, an emergency fund of sorts.
And a good chunk of that had gone to setting Mother and Father up in the city for these weeks to get them away and give me some peace for a time.
There was a sinking in my stomach, anxiety brewing as I imagined their reaction to my plan.
But I tried to ignore it, focusing on the sharp-sweet taste of the tangerine slices Mae fed me and the feel of the fresh breeze on my face, through my hair.
Everything would be fine. I’d lay out a financial plan to them that made sense.
Explain our situation and how this would easily remedy it.
If I sold a solid chunk of the lands and managed to get a good price for them, it could potentially give us enough for Balfie’s cure and to pay for a house in Talon, setting my parents up for years.
That was how I’d spin it to them. Though they didn’t, of course, need to know about Mae and her brother.
The dark binding spell. They wouldn’t understand, and, I suspected, wouldn’t really care.
I can do this. I can do this, I thought to myself, willing it to be true.
The next week passed in a strange blur. Not unpleasant—not at all.
In many ways, it felt like one of the happiest, most carefree times of my life.
My days were so full in a way that they hadn’t been in what seemed like years.
Certainly not since we’d retreated to our country estate after the scandal; most of that time, I could now recognize, I’d been quite lonely and adrift.
And yes, for the many years before that in society when I’d kept busy with the required events and lessons and shopping and such.
But a busy day, I found, was a far and away different thing from a truly full one.
Now, I spent my time with friends who cared for me—Choia, Mae, and Petra.
In conversation, sharing meals, playing cards and silly games in the evening.
I tried to draw Mae and Petra together more during these times, to varying degrees of success; I could tell both were trying to make an effort, but more than once, my maid abruptly left the table or our game with an excuse of housework.
I tried not to over worry about it—they were both adults, and I couldn’t force a friendship if it just wasn’t there.
Each morning, I woke with the sun and went on a long walk or ride with Mae through the grounds, reacquainting myself with the full extent of our estate and its current condition.
After a relaxing breakfast and many cups of tea, I usually retreated to my study to transcribe messy notes from the morning into my records.
It had only taken a few days to more firmly identify the parts of the estate that we should sell off.
I’d summoned our solicitor, a perpetually frazzled but efficient dwarf named Mx.
Bottlecoat, who came from the city at once to discuss matters with me.
We agreed it best to hold off involving my parents until a plan was in motion, thankfully.
They knew quite well the true state of affairs—that I ran our household and finances and had for some time.
They confessed that they’d been utterly relieved when my parents had handed over the reins to me, having dealt with the lord and lady for many long, stressful years.
Poor Mx. Bottlecoat showed me a thatch of their full beard that they claimed had gone white just from the year our family underwent its very public bankruptcy and near–financial ruin.
They said they’d been trying to convince my parents to sell part of the estate for years, to no avail.
We made a plan, and Mx. Bottlecoat called in the other necessary professionals needed for a land sale of this scale. A surveyor, an appraiser, a royal clerk, and various others. Mae carefully vetted each one, inspiring fear in most of them with her fierce scowls and many knives.
I trusted Bottlecoat’s expertise, despite their past failings with my parents—who could blame them for that, really, when Mother and Father were so clearly spiraling for quite some time—and we worked very well together.
Mae insisted on keeping out of the proceedings beyond security protocols, not wanting to influence my decisions, and Petra begged off as well with an anxious “Oh no, Dove, I couldn’t help with all of that important business!
” But Choia threw her advice in sometimes, and I always appreciated her insights.
She’d lived here as long as I had, after all, and knew the grounds well.
Longer, in fact, since she sometimes didn’t join us for the full season in Talon, much preferring life here in the country.
Finally, after almost a week of furious working, I wrote the letter to my parents detailing the plan.
Mx. Bottlecoat wrote a supporting letter, and we included copies of all the reports and data we’d acquired.
They’d begun to already make contact with potential buyers, though we didn’t include that in our letters to Mother and Father. Not yet.
But Bottlecoat had insisted that we must obtain my parents’ approval of the sale in writing; although I handled our family’s finances and nearly everything was in my name by now, they still had a legal right to approve or deny it.
Anxiety clawing up my throat, I’d carefully tucked the thick envelope into our largest owl’s carrying case and sent him off into the night to deliver it.
When I wasn’t working on the planning and preparation of the sale, I mostly just… enjoyed myself. It felt strange to think, but in a couple short weeks, my life seemed to have changed dramatically for the better. Or perhaps my outlook did.
Whatever it might be, the fact remained—I had somehow bickered, fumbled, and stumbled my way into real and fulfilling happiness. I, Lady Dovenesdrea Iniri Wistrallo III, was truly happy.
And perhaps a little bit in love.