just eat and no one noticed him doing it as long as he didn't pick his teeth at the table or spit. Ursala smiled, but didn't look at him, her eyes straight ahead for some reason. Softly a foot caught him in the shin. He took a sip from the golden glass cup, just hoping that's what she meant. It went down the table that way, with Count Ward going last. He actually looked into the vessel as if it were an enemy out to get him, as if it might honestly contain poison.
That of course was stupid. This was way too small a group for anyone to try it. The King would be blamed, or possibly the family of Ursala. They couldn't spread the blame around enough that way. If there were hundreds of people it could be anyone, right? Here that wouldn't work. Unless they blamed Tor of course. That could work. After all, he might have considered slipping the man poison if he knew how to do such things. For him to have been so irresponsible with Ursala made Tor more than a little angry. If he wasn't a Count Tor would have punched the man, even if the guy would kill him in a fight.
Dark thoughts spread themselves across his mind, like they had during his first year at school, when he'd almost left, because of how bad he felt after the thing with Maria. If Rolph hadn't been there to prop him up and help him move past it, he'd probably be getting the shop ready for the next day before turning in early. Bakers got up before the dawn each day by several hours, especially in the heat of summer. He turned away from thinking like that and tried to listen to what everyone else around him said.
The Countess Thorgood, who sat several seats away from him, but on the same side of the table, mentioned how delightfully cool the room was, a miracle, given how hot the day had been. Everyone made polite speech about the weather for a while after that for a while, which came back around to the temperature of the room again. Maria spoke softly, her voice sounding pleasant enough, kind even.
“Oh! Is it one of those new room coolers? We've an order for several in to Debri house, but there's a waiting list, even for Counts. It makes sense that the palace would have some, I suppose, but I have to admit to a bit of jealousy nonetheless.” It was a throwaway line from the way she said it, but the Queen answered her anyway, her voice soft and pleasant sounding as well. Almost like the way velvet felt against the skin.
“Yes. I've heard from sources that the new Tor-shields and flying devices are being given priority since those are needed for the common defense. Luckily for us the devices to cool this room have been loaned to us by Tor himself. Along with virtually priceless devices to keep our servants cool when they leave to get our next course. A gesture of grand magnitude.” She turned slightly to address the man standing behind the King, about six feet back. “How are they working Quavel?”
The man stood straighter and smiled.
“Perfectly mum! Even standing next to the ovens they work to keep the wearer cool.”
The Queen nodded subtly to Tor. No one else seemed to notice, except Trice who gestured to him slightly. She mouthed the words “I want one.” at him, which made him smile. He nodded slightly. He could make another few batches after he had some sleep. Then he'd need to figure out how to transfer rivers of water across the countryside.
The courses passed one after the other, almost seamlessly. His server offered more fruit juice instead of wine, which he took gratefully. If anyone noticed they didn't remark on it. Then again, given the people sitting around him, those that didn't know him might just think he was a child. Tor knew he didn't look old for his age and when everyone else loomed over you like they all did, it could be easy to get confused. It was good juice though. Some kind of apple peach blend he thought. Tart apple too, the way he liked it.
For sweets at the end they had chilled fruit with cream over it. The cream had been sweetened and was still liquid, but poured over the cut strawberries slowly. It was very good, but then everything had been. He noticed that the serving sizes for him had been smaller than for everyone else so that he could eat each course. Catching the Queen's eye he nodded his thanks. It was obviously her doing. She'd probably noticed that he couldn't eat his dessert the other day. Not his fault that he wasn't a giant, but her making sure he didn't feel uncomfortable about it was nice. She was probably that considerate of everyone, but it made him feel a little special anyway.
When everything was cleared from the table drinks were brought out, water for him, and he was fairly certain, for the King as well by the look of the glass in front of him. Everyone else got wine. It seemed like a less than brilliant idea really, letting people drink at such a potentially volatile meeting, but if it was the tradition then they kind of had to.
Then the conversation started. Or rather the argument that rapidly devolved into a screaming match between Counts Ward and Thorgood. It seemed to center around who was responsible for the pregnancy, rather than seeking to find a workable solution. Ward, for someone that held enough interest in Ursala to have sex with her, apparently on numerous occasions, didn't seem to hold her in very high esteem anymore. He continued to heap more and more abuse towards her over the whole thing, as if he had no part in it. Tor may not know a lot about sex, he knew, but no one seemed to doubt that Ward was the father at all, so arguing over responsibility now seemed… insane.
Ward did, as Rolph had mentioned might happen, suggest that the baby simply be “gotten rid of”. Tor had to swallow his anger, but managed it. Barely. After all, short of dying, what else could he do? Ursala sullenly shook her head no at the suggestion and Marigold took her hand and patted it, while glaring at the man who'd despoiled her little girl.
Trice didn't say much and what she did say tended to be fairly helpful suggestions, such as the need to look for a solution, instead of placing blame. The King eventually told both men to shut up, he did it bluntly and with a bit of force behind it, which got their attention pretty well.
“We have two problems here gentlemen, neither of which your bickering has addressed at all. First we need to see that Ursala here is not abused in this case. Second, we need to see her married to a suitable individual within the month. Start naming candidates. Now please.”
Ursala's father went quiet at least, but the younger Count decided to take the opportunity to cast aspersions on the lady again. Tor watched as Rolph went from red to white, and stood stiffly, turning to face the Count, his eyes looking a little dead. As he did sparks started to manifest around him, an aura of power. Trice slapped at her chest.
“Damn, I don't have my shield on!” She pulled back, scampering with almost everyone in the room towards the other side. The Royal Guard suddenly appeared in the room, looking deadly in their black and purple, heavy cloth that had to be uncomfortable, but that didn't look too different from what Tor had on at the moment himself. They all just stood around though, once they realized what was about to happen.
Rolph flipped the table out of the way with a casual gesture, not touching it at all. It left Tor sitting in his chair with no table in front of him, the only one left. Everyone else had the sense to get out of the way of the rampaging royal. Except him and Count Ward, who was looking at least as enraged as the Prince. Pulling out his shield amulet Tor activated it carefully and then tucked it back into his shirt. That way it wouldn't flop around if he got hit. It shouldn't anyway, but better to be sure of it.
He stood slowly and walked between the two men then just stood in place. As if sharing a single thought, both men pointed both hands at each other. Nothing happened until Rolph moved two steps to the left, causing a single chair to flip towards the Count. It stopped when it hit Tor's shield, his right hand extended to keep it from flying past. The way the chair flew… It seemed familiar somehow. As both men ran towards each other, with him in the middle he suddenly got it. The force moved in a line, the energy inside the field being organized so that it all suddenly wanted to move in one direction! If they'd kept dropping more chairs into the field, they all would have flown too. It was like the flying field in effect. Only totally backwards in how the mechanism worked.
Chairs got caught in it and flew along the path set up in advance, which was different than how he had people flying, which held a single object in place relative to the field, the field giving the instructions moving along with it… It made sense! If he could set up a path, the ocean water could be sent along like a stream or a river. If he filtered it as it flowed into the line the water would all be fresh. It would take massive work, but it could be done. Tor thought so anyway. If building the fields in the first place didn't kill him. But hey, everyone died eventually, so wasn't it worth a chance?
As he stood the Count rushed him from behind and started pounding on him, causing the floor beneath him to make massive popping sounds. Rolph didn't hit him at least, moving around to strike at the other man. As a blow moved to hit home against the Count, Tor stepped into the path of it, distracted by the project at hand.
Then after about five minutes he realized that the real project at hand, Ursala's problem, wasn't being attended to at all. They were just wasting time on that one for sure. He looked around and finally saw the clutch of people standing by the door.
