Brian McClellan - Servant of the Crown

“Nor would I.” Lady Pensbrook’s face softened immediately. Her sneer dissolved, her cheeks looked suddenly less severe. She gave him a soft smile that made her look exactly like Erika, and she continued, “I’m glad that’s cleared up. Lord Pensbrook and I do not agree with all of Erika’s decisions lately, but … I think you’ll do quite well for her. Please close your mouth, Captain, you look like a fool.”

Tamas snapped his jaw shut, then worked his tongue as he tried to come up with a response.

Lady Pensbrook turned away, twirling her parasol absently, and looked at him over her shoulder. “We’ve agreed that you needn’t wait until field marshal to be an acceptable member of our family. General will do. Until then, I expect you to behave as a gentleman. Carry on, Captain.”

She strode off, shadowed by her retainers. Tamas watched her go.

“You met my mother, I see,” a voice said.

Erika stood next to Tamas at a casual distance. He felt her fingers brush his very lightly and then her touch was gone. He looked over to find her in a red dress that matched the cuffs of Tamas’s uniform and a parasol much like her mother’s. It was the same dress she’d worn when they first met.

“I did,” Tamas said. “I’m afraid I was a little tongue-tied.”

“Most people are.”

“I did not expect …”

“Her approval?” Erika finished.

Tamas nodded.

“I’m not entirely certain myself. She has a particular disdain for politics amongst the nobility. My grandfather calls it a rebellious streak, but if that’s the case, she got it from him.” Erika smiled, still not turning toward him. “She’s insisted that we keep our public lives very separate for the next few years. Your courtship would stir up a great deal of contention in the Kez court.”

Tamas felt his throat go dry. That was a facet to this whole thing that he could not ignore. She was still a Kez noble, and to the Kez a powder mage was worse than a dog.

“Will it really work, even once I’m a general?” Tamas asked.

“My grandfather thinks so, and he’s the one who will pass on his title to me. That’s all that matters. You’re to be assigned to the Black Tar Forest, correct?”

“How did you know?”

She smiled. “I have a favor to ask of you while you’re there.”

“Anything.”

“Not now. I’ll tell you tonight.”

“I thought we couldn’t see each other.”

She lifted her chin, still looking away from him, and seemed regal and cold. She spun her parasol the same way her mother had. “In public,” she said. “In private … I expect you there at eight tonight.”

“Where?”

She began to walk away, following after her mother, and he barely heard her response: “In your pocket.”

Tamas considered her response a moment before checking his pocket. He withdrew a key, and then a carefully folded note. The key was labeled for a suite at the Goldtile Hotel, one of the finest hotels in Adopest. On the note was scribbled a brief message:

We have a lot of work to do to get you where you need to be.

— E