a servant. Tor looked down and realized he could pass at least. Godfrey kind of looked military and having obviously come from the craft next to them, it would be hard to sell any of them as just regular people at the moment. He suggested that they confuse the situation by getting a passel of real servants to come from the kitchen and help take the griddles where they needed to get to.
Laura would want to test it first, he presumed, before wasting kitchen space on them. That was only fair. If they weren’t exactly what she needed then they wouldn’t make the cut, nor should they. As long as he got good feedback, Tor could fix any problems. Hopefully at least.
It would have taken him an hour of walking around and begging to bring the needed people, Karina just raised her right hand and asked for the kitchen staff that could be spared at the moment. She just spoke to the air, not looking at anyone at all. Only a light luncheon was being served that day, so twelve people ran over to them about ten minutes later. It was that eerie palace thing again. He needed to remember to never say anything he didn’t mean to be known by everyone while there.
Like threatening Debri house or the Morgans? Tor winced to himself. Oops. No wonder Smythe tried to kill him. He really had been just venting though. Mainly. Note to self, he thought, don’t vent here. Got it.
In the midst of all the brown clad people he had Karina help him move one of the griddles towards a shed past the pond garden, they both huffed and puffed, by the time they were halfway there, and had half a dozen other people helping them do the work. They could have used the follow along float, but he needed to whisper to her a little. If the fear was watchers, he needed to be careful too, right?
“Karina, this is, well, delicate. I need to have a private audience with the King, then, if I’m still alive, with your mother, Rolph, Varley and you. Um, tell the King it… Tell him it involves Varley, but this needs to be a real secret meeting first please, not one with a half dozen listeners in the walls? I, I couldn’t handle that right now…” Tor gasped this out and felt his muscles tremble, which probably served to make him look more than a little scared.
Acting skills? Zero. Looking like a scared child? One hundred percent. Or at least sounding like one. The beard was growing in pretty nicely now and aged him up a good bit. Now he looked like a small adult instead of a kid at least. Or at least a boy with a fake beard, so people could guess he was trying to look older.
The Princess grinned knowingly and ran off without saying anything more. She actually ran, which, honestly, was a wise thing that he needed to point out later. Either that or give Not-flyers to all the staff. More work for him, but that might actually be the more popular option. He finished helping to move the griddle, because it had to be moved anyway, and just walking off would be something a real servant wouldn’t have done. Not that he had to worry personally since he had a shield on and all, but if it was a rule, he’d follow it as best he could while he was there.
Karina didn’t come back over at least, just standing and gesturing at the door, which was a little lazy if she was a servant gesturing to some high lord, but was about perfect for a servant girl trying to get another servant to come to her. Tor wondered if it was just that Karina was that slothful by nature or if she was smart enough to work all this out on her own? Rolph and Varley were both smart, so why not their sister too? He’d never seen it exactly, but shallow and a little too concerned with what other people thought of you was different than dumb.
Not living her life, he couldn’t even say that she was actually shallow and vain even. Maybe in her world what he saw as being self-centered was actually something else from her perspective? Something needed, even if he didn’t know why? That there were thing he didn’t know about royal girls was so clear that he might as well wear a sign saying it all the time. Or, could he have it embroidered on the back of a shirt? That would work too and probably be more comfortable. Embroidery was expensive to hire done though and he didn’t have time to learn the skill himself, so the world would probably just have to guess at his lack of knowledge on this topic. That was fine. Most people would probably just look at him and be able to tell.
It took nearly a minute for him to get to her; Tor tried to hurry, but the half jog he could manage after the moving of the heavy equipment was just that pitiful. At least she didn’t make him talk when he got to her, she just put out her arm for him to take, so she could steady him if need be.
“Dad said to tell you to be at the place from before in ten minutes. I asked him when before, but he said you’d know?” Bright coppery red hair in a braid today, she flung her head around sharply to toss it over her right shoulder, so that it draped cutely, and gave him a proper village girl style “come hither” look.
“So, if I can ask without it being off-putting, why Varley and not me? I’m older and, well, I know she’s prettier than me, but I’m a lot closer to the throne and all that, if that kind of things important to you at all. Unless, well, she does look a lot like mom, and I know you like her a lot.”
“Um, yeah, about that, could we talk about that if your dad doesn’t have me killed outright? Besides, you already have a marriage lined up, don’t you?” He asked, not wanting to give everything away in public. That walking down a gray and empty hallway trimmed in a wood was somehow “public” baffled him even as he knew it was probably true. At least he knew that no one could hide in the walls of his little focus stone hut.
She agreed to wait, very grudgingly, and a little grumpily she set off down a side hallway as he worked his way towards what would be nearly the innermost part of the palace. He got lost twice, before he found the drab door with the stairs behind it. At least the light plates were already on. Grinning slightly Tor finally activated his Not-flyer and got to try going down the stairs. The ride wasn’t perfectly smooth, but it only felt like riding down a giant wash board, not jarring at all. The lights and walls zipped by, but when he started to pull his right hand back he slowed to a stop just before he reached the bottom.
He tapped on the metal door, still gray and cold. No noise came. His shield, right. Torrance could move things with it, pick them up if he was careful, but the energy from rapping or hitting something would go into the ground unless he was in the air. Instead of knocking again, he opened the door carefully, to find the room totally empty except for the King.
Richard sat in the big chair on the far end, legs apart, hands resting on the arms a heavy and untreated looking wood. The posture made him seem huge, which he was, but bigger even than normal. At least he smiled pleasantly.
“Tor! Please come in and close the door. So you want to talk to me about Varley?” He said this loudly, happily, as if he didn’t care who heard, but wanting to make Tor feel comfortable about the situation too.
“Normally, in our circles, you approach the girl’s mother first, but I understand the country system can be a little different at times? Connie and I have talked about this at length and Veronica has asked if it would be possible, asked her mother at least. As a Countier fourth, we feel that your claim is good enough to get a hearing. That you’re Tor and have done things for the kingdom that few ever even hope to approach and in only a few short months… well how could we refuse? Veronica still has to agree of course, but if she does, you have our full support.”
Tor nodded for a moment, then stopped.
“Um, sorry. What?”
“We give our blessing. Torrence Baker, we offer you the hand of the Royal Princess Veronica Hope Cordes in marriage.”
“Oh.” Tor muttered weakly.
Chapter fifteen
Tor grabbed the bridge of his nose, as if his head hurt, which amazing enough it didn’t. Well. He didn’t want to draw this out, because if the King had to kill him over this he didn’t want Varley to wonder if she was responsible. Quickly he explained the whole thing with Kolb and the organization he kind of started out of the back of the Wildlands Station. Instead of yelling, or even getting all serious looking the King leaned forwards and… smiled.
“And you plan on supporting them? With your devices and such? How are we supposed to pay for this? I mean, I could order it done, but openly paying for something kind of defeats the purpose of a secret organization, doesn’t it?” He stroked his naked chin but didn’t say anything.
“Well… do I get anything for making all those devices for the military?” Tor asked, not really expecting anything in particular. Why should they pay when he’d been willing to do it for free? The King surprised him then.
