He walked into the large dining room, fit for three times the people that he had invited. Keith and Cora were talking to Mara and Mark, Mara’s husband. Brother Yvan and Reena were in deep conversation with Jacob Stoolage and his daughter. Lissa was bending the ear of the local Dryden bishop.
“I was told that dinner was ready,” Des said to everyone.
It felt odd to sit at the head of the table, but Des managed to endure the minor discomfort. He started the dinner by having Jacob relate how they spent the afternoon out in the city. Everyone gasped when Jacob said how much Summer had sequestered at the bank.
“And that is only part of it,” Brother Yvan said.
Des formally thanked Mara for her vital assistance.
“I knew the singer that you killed. He was the best at the institute and Summer had him summoned the moment he knew you were back,” Mara said.
“No surprises, after all,” Des said. “All the more reason to thank you.”
“You more than paid me back,” Mara said, taking Mark’s hand and kissing it.
Des smiled, finally casting off the awkward feeling he had harbored when he first delivered Mara to the village. The rest of dinner was a recounting of Des’s adventures in Jarkan up to the point that he met Reena in Derwizul.
After dinner, Des cornered Keith. “I am going to make you regent of Listenwell, if you are willing to move from the village. It isn’t Underville, but I want everything to be legal. Jacob has agreed to be an assistant. He did a wonderful job for me in the past few days.”
“Are you sure? I know you hinted about having a job for me, but I betrayed you. I don’t deserve to be regent.”
Des waved away the comment. “A forced betrayal. Just promise it won’t happen again. Warn me first.”
Keith laughed at Des’s comment.
“Live in Summer’s side of the residence,” Des said. “I don’t know how long until I return, but keep an eye open for a suitable house that I can buy for you.”
“You trust me that much?” Keith asked.
“You know how I deal with regents who don’t work in my best interests?”
Keith grinned and nodded. “Indeed I do.”
“Jacob knows the details of the domain, but you were trained to run a duchy. Stoolage can help you remember what you forgot,” Des said.
“I won’t disappoint you.”
Des clapped him on his shoulder. “I don’t expect you will.”
~
Des Boxster stared at the mirror in the recently cleaned bedroom in the ducal residence in Parkintown. He shook his head and shut his eyes tightly before opening them. It was the second day after he had taken over from Summer’s regency.
“You are no longer Desolation Boxster or Des Boxster,” he said to the image in front of him. “You are Trevor Arcwin, no longer a prince of Presidon, but Trevor Arcwin, Duke of Listenwell. Of all things, you are now a Brachian!”
He laughed at himself and put on his court clothes. He needed a few more dressy things large enough to hide his ancient cuirass, but that was something to do when he returned. He’d wear his oversized tunics for now.
Trevor walked downstairs and had to have a servant show him to the small dining room. His residence was larger than the royal family quarters in Tarviston castle. Trevor was glad as he looked around him that Summer had had the good sense to use the other wing of the residence reserved for visiting nobles. He knew Keith would use only one of the apartments.
“Late as usual,” Brother Yvan said, “but you aren’t the only one.”
“You are early, and I’m not always the last one down,” Trevor said. He didn’t expect to get any respect for his new office from his mentor. Trevor had never treated Brother Yvan like a seer but more like a young uncle.
Trevor was about ready to dive into his breakfast when Keith Garman exploded through the door.
“Trouble at the constabulary,” Keith said. “The constables are barricading the doors and demanding to speak with you.”
“I fired them all yesterday,” Trevor said.
“But they don’t act like they accepted the firing. You need to come.”
Trevor looked down at his breakfast and sighed before stuffing as much as he could in his mouth.
“I’ll be right along. I don’t like looking like a chipmunk in public,” Brother Yvan said, shooing Trevor out the door with Keith.
The constabulary was only a city block away from the residence, and by the time Trevor arrived, a crowd had gathered. Jacob Stoolage was holding up his hands, trying to bring calm to the situation.
“I think you’ll have to cool the citizens down a bit,” Jacob said as Trevor joined him. “If you don’t, the constables can cause a lot more damage than Summer did when everyone was pummeling him to death.”
Trevor had hoped he could spend a few hours in his residence before starting his journey to Ginster to find out more about the messenger thing the head seer had talked about.
Trevor parted the crowd and stood to the side of the doors. He had his sword in his hand and waved it overhead. “If there is any violence, I’ll be the one to deal with it,” Trevor said, succeeding in getting the crowd to take a few steps back.
After raising his sword, Trevor pounded on the door with the pommel. “This is your duke. Open up, and let’s talk.”
“We won’t talk or leave until you give up your title,” a frightened voice came from within the constabulary.
“And who would become duke? Summer is dead after you failed to protect him,” Trevor said with a smile. That failure had to have
