P. Power - Knight of the Realm

Holly went to see about the first part, but everyone else just chuckled gently, awkwardly not making eye contact with him, watching her leave. Right, he was helpless and clueless little Tor. He wanted to raise an eyebrow at them all, but had never actually mastered doing that. Instead he just sighed dramatically and tried to look much put upon. It was close enough to reality so he thought he probably did a good job.

Varley started talking to him and wasn't being all cold or standoffish, so she must have accepted Petra's statement. That or the whole thing had been a game for her to begin with. From the way everyone else reacted he kind of thought that might have been the case.

“Easy enough, we'll get Rolph to lease you some of the Wildlands on an indefinite basis. When you set that river up that you told us about, you can run it past your new house, so water won't be a problem. Rolph said you could build easily enough with that new compression device and earth moving equipment? That way you'll “own” it as much as anyone owns anything and can use it for anything you like. Maybe even your own school? Definitely get enough for your own town at least. “Torville” or maybe “Torington”? Both would be within the normal naming conventions I think, don't you?” The Princess knew one thing about Tor at least, and it was how very much he hated everything he made being referred to as the “Tor” whatever. She was teasing him he realized after a bit, feeling slow and stupid. He smiled at her and smothered a yawn. It wasn't a real one either, just being meant to show how boring he thought the teasing was.

She chuckled and looked at him sweetly. Then yawned for real, which got him to yawn back.

Holly brought him a carafe of brown sludge that tasted like the bottom of a shoe, or at least he imagined that to be the case, and along with that she brought a thick brown leather bound book, one that just said “Manners” on the front in faded black ink. Amazingly, Tor realized as soon as he opened it, the book actually told him a lot of what he needed to know.

“Can I keep this? I mean, just until I read it, I'll return it, of course.” He asked so eagerly he realized it must be rude, because Holly got a very strained look on her face then. He tried to school his own and not seem over enthused. It really would be a help though. A huge help, if half the things in it were correct.

Holly nodded and told him that would be fine. It was an heirloom, so she wanted it back at some point, but… Tor promised instantly, not making her finish the statement. That she'd even let him look at it was an honor, if it was something that had been in her family for a long time. Trying to remember the protocol for such things, Tor stood and bowed to her, which got her to rise and bow low as well, matching him, tears in her eyes. Everyone else just looked uncomfortable.

Except Kevin the butler who beamed at him and bowed too.

Dinner was to be in two hours, at nine, and they were going out to eat at a local restaurant, one Holly assured them wasn't really nice enough for royalty, which meant that the people were honest and kind, instead of just servile. Varley laughed at that and said it sounded wonderful.

The only problem was that Holly really didn't have his stuff. Not at her house. She'd sent it all off to her military's main training base, some fifty miles away.

Of course, Tor thought, that just figured didn't it? It even made sense, because it was harder to take back nine or ten thousand scattered amulets than ten boxes of them. So as far as that went Tor was still in the same place as before. He didn't even have his own toothbrush, or any way to buy a new one.

Maybe he could trade some of his gadgets for one in town? This was really starting to wear on him he realized. He felt exhausted from it and more than a bit put upon. Things weren't important, but they could be handy and it felt like a little more could be done to make him comfortable too.

Tor didn't let it show. Smiling he asked if what he was wearing would be suitable for this place, trying to act casual about it. He'd only ever been in one restaurant, and that hadn't gone well, so he didn't hold out high hopes for this one, but he didn't want to push the people there into attacking him either.

True, it would probably just be with words and hostile glances, not fists, but still…

Also he needed to find out who was paying for it. Was he supposed to cover himself? That would be interesting to say the least. Maybe they'd let him wash dishes or do the baking to cover it? Better, maybe they needed a magical device or two? He didn't think he was supposed to cover everyone, not really, but some of the people were with him, right?

Yes, technically, Varley was in charge, being the highest ranked person there, but that didn't seem right either. Everyone else retired to various rooms to change clothing, so Tor just sat and read from the book in front of him.

To his surprise, it actually covered this very situation in decent depth, right there in chapter three.

The person inviting another was stating, by making the invitation, that they were paying for it. The “gratuity”, something Tor had only a vague concept of, was to be covered by the person (or in this case, persons) invited. Right. Well, having no money was a problem then. Would it be all right for him to leave an amulet as a gift? What would a server at a restaurant like? And did he need something for everyone that worked there? The person cooking the food of course, but there was always kitchen help and people needed to clean, right? Tor just didn't know. Well, he'd do what he could and hope it wasn't insulting. Maybe they'd cut him slack if they realized how lacking in information he was? If need be he could throw himself down and grovel. It wouldn't be fun, but the book did say it was always a good fall back, if you messed up too much.

Now all Tor needed was something to work on physically. Obviously he had nothing.

Kevin, it turned out, saved him, by asking if he could work in glass. It wasn't a problem at all, glass held fields pretty well really, if the builder or copier was good enough to use it, so he actually had something by the time they all left, just taking off on foot.

Thank goodness, because after everything he would have probably tried to refuse if they'd wanted to stick him in a carriage behind a team of four or something. Horses were fine, but carriages didn't get along with him too well, making him feel trapped and sick as they bounced along. Horrible. As was the rule when walking with royals, Tor, considerably shorter, had to almost run to keep up, but managed all right for all that. He'd had practice after all, years of it. Chasing Rolph around at school, along with his daily runs.

The restaurant was interesting enough inside, simple decor that reminded him a lot more of Tom Smith's house than the palace or even his place. His old place, he corrected, trying not to let every thought show on his face.

Tom was the mayor of Two Bends, the little farming community not needing anything with a fancier title than that. Even that was mainly just to let Tom feel good about doing a bunch of extra work for free. Judging disputes over chickens and organizing road repair, that kind of thing.

The wood inside looked like the kind found on the beach, drift wood. It was smooth and weathered, the color bleached to gray almost. In front of the tables there were odd benches, each big enough for two people. Tor hadn't gotten to any protocol about who sat where, but Holly fixed that by waving him in next to her. He slide into place carefully, which he could manage easily not being as overgrown as the others, who had to fight to negotiate things correctly. David and Petra nearly fell over backwards, because Petra moved to scoot them in while David apparently decided to move back for some reason. No one laughed, but helpful suggestions were called out. Things like “work together” and “just sit down already” came from nearby patrons, all of them sounding well meaning. Apparently this had happened before.