39. Layer of Trust #2
“Careful men stay careful by making people underestimate them. Twenty-two years in power means twenty-two years of watching threats come and go. If Hemmrich wanted to move against someone, he’d make sure all the evidence pointed somewhere else.
He’d be the victim, shocked and appalled that such a thing could happen under his roof. ”
Silence stretched between us.
“That’s a dark thought for a thirteen-year-old,” Armand said finally.
“I’ve had dark teachers.”
Baldir’s eyes narrowed, studying me with renewed intensity. I’d said too much, shown too much of the old soldier underneath the child’s face.
But instead of suspicion, I saw the beginning of trust working its way into his expression .
“Father was right about you,” he said quietly. “There’s something in you that doesn’t match your years.”
“My mother died giving birth to me,” I said, which was true. “That tends to age a person.”
It wasn’t the real explanation, but it was explanation enough. Baldir nodded slowly, accepting it without pushing further.
“Tonight’s gathering,” Baldir said, bringing us back to immediate concerns. “The steward mentioned Duke Hemmrich prefers ‘informal meetings’ before tournaments. Wine, conversation, getting the measure of his guests.”
“Reading them,” I translated. “Seeing who drinks too much, who talks too freely, who has grudges they can’t hide.”
“Exactly. So we give him exactly what he expects to see.” Baldir ticked off points on his fingers. “I’m the confident heir, maybe slightly arrogant, certain of my family’s position and my own abilities. Easy to read, easy to predict.”
“I’m the charming second son,” Armand continued, “interested in combat and competition, happy to discuss techniques with anyone who’ll listen. Friendly, approachable, harmless.”
They both looked at me.
“And I’m thirteen,” I said. “Wide eyes at the feast tables. Excitement about tomorrow’s brackets. Awe at noble splendor. Too young to take seriously, too young to watch closely.”
“Can you do it?” Baldir asked. “Or has training burned the child from you entirely?”
I thought about it honestly. Could I pretend to be what I appeared, play the innocent when everything in me wanted to count threats and calculate responses ?
“I can manage it,” I said. “But you’ll need to help sell it. Treat me like a child in public. Remind me of my manners. Act embarrassed when I say something naive.”
“We can do that.” Armand’s smile carried genuine warmth. “We’ve been acting embarrassed by family members our whole lives. Father makes it easy.”
Baldir stood again, and with the motion the hierarchy of House de Blaise settled back over him like armor being donned. Senior captain. Heir apparent. Face of the house.
But underneath, the contempt he’d once shown for the bastard son had shifted into something I hadn’t expected to earn this early. Respect wasn’t quite the word. Acknowledgment, maybe. The recognition that I belonged in the room where plans were made.
“Your only job tonight is to be thirteen,” he told me. “Let Armand and me worry about the politics. Eat the food, gawk at the nobles, ask questions a child would ask. Learn everything you can while they’re busy ignoring you.”
He studied me for a long moment. “Father was right to see potential in you. Don’t make him regret the investment.”
“And don’t make us regret trusting you with this,” Armand added, his tone light but his eyes serious.
I looked at each of them in turn. “I won’t.”
A knock at the door interrupted whatever Baldir might have said next. Soft, polite, but unmistakably a summons.
Baldir moved to answer with casual confidence, opening it to reveal a young servant in Hemmrich’s livery. The boy couldn’t have been more than fourteen, practically vibrating with nervous energy .
“Forgive the intrusion, my lords. Master Cromwell has arrived and requests permission to assist with your preparations. Duke Hemmrich’s gathering begins in two hours.”
“Send him in,” Baldir replied smoothly. “We’re honored by Master Cromwell’s attention to our presentation.”
The servant departed with obvious relief, probably grateful he hadn’t been the bearer of bad news.
“Time to become someone else,” Baldir said, closing the door. “Remember your roles. I’m the heir, confident and commanding. Armand, the skilled second son, interested only in blades and competition.”
He looked at me, and for a moment the mask slipped. I saw the young man underneath, the one who’d weighed the odds and found them wanting but kept moving anyway. The one who’d been given an impossible task and was determined to see it through.
“You’re the prodigy,” he said. “Young enough to be harmless. Old enough to be interesting. Play it well.”
◇ ◆ ◇
「Hel’s Ledger」
Vessel: Danarre de Blaise | Year 828 | Age 13
House de Blaise | Status: Bastard (Unacknowledged)
Location: Duke Hemmrich’s Estate, Guest Quarters
「Knight of Swords」 — Burning
「Emperor」 — Sleeping
「Magician」 — Sleeping
Active Charge: Find the Hierophant. End what was begun.
The brothers open the circle and let the vessel in. Good. Hel’s blade works better with hands beside it than behind it. The heir plays at strategy while the vessel learns of brotherhood. Both are lies. The vessel’s lie is sharper. Let the feast begin.