P. Power - Knight of the Realm

“Patricia… What…” She misted up, which seemed genuine enough. Still, he didn’t want Trice feeling sorry for herself. Oh, she had the right, and he'd probably have been curled up in a ball still, sobbing like a child if it had been him, but he couldn't handle a massive sobbing and crying festival right now.

“Don't pity her too much Collette. She lost an arm, but saved nearly two hundred people doing it. That includes the whole royal family, about half the sitting counts and countesses and their spouses and a lot of other people without such lofty titles, including me. She's a hero.” It came out in a rush, but still sounded proud he thought. “It was a steep price, but should be seen as a badge of honor and courage, not something to be pitied.”

Tor lifted his head, trying to look dignified, which was probably hard in his deep red canvas workman's outfit. Collette let a single tear fall but swept Trice into a careful embrace and didn't let her go for a long time.

Then she turned on Tor. There was enough venom in her eyes to make him wince a little.

“And what were you doing during this event?” Her voice had gone chilly, which he could understand, in a weird sort of way. Collette knew that Trice was her confederate, and that the King had ordered them both to be a little anti-Tor around the Wards, but clearly she expected him to have tried to protect her anyway. Even if he was little, and not as good a fighter as she was. Not as physically strong either, though that kind of made him uneasy to think about. All the giants were probably stronger than he was, even the girls, at least the ones that exercised regularly. Which reminded him to get back to his regular running soon. If you had only one edge you couldn't afford to lose it. Or even let it get rusty. Kolb had made sure he knew that lesson well enough back in school.

“Me? I… just sat there.” Tor said simply. Blankly. It was the truth. People were dying and he hadn't fought at all. He hadn't thought about it before, but it felt weak to him, like he let everyone down.

Trice snorted loudly, and with no dignity or concern for how it might sound, “right… just sat there he says… He stopped six streams, clouds really, of Austran death dust, holding it still in the air. All direct effect, without being in a combat rage, and while he was being tortured by one of the assassins to try and break his concentration. I grabbed the last bomb and it started eating my hand, but didn't spread like the others did. Princess Karina realized what was happening and used a cutter to take off my hand. She missed the first time, not getting all the death dust, but she was true on the second. Saved my life.” If the tone was bitter, it was hard to tell.

Then Trice was a good actress.

Collette nodded, looking troubled but not glaring at Tor anymore and got them all inside, closing the door after the luggage followed them all in. Tor had reworked the latest floats to handle steps, and hills too, so that it could be used to move cargo's of fish. Everyone thought it was a marvelous improvement, except Tor, who realized he should have just made it that way to begin with. That no one called him on his initial stupidity was kind, but he noticed it. Collette smiled as she watched the three trunks follow them in.

“Tor with his magic trunks… You know, if it's not too presumptuous… no, never mind. Everyone else is in the cool room. This way.” She smiled brightly and led them down a large central hallway to a room near the back of the building, which was deeper than Tor had figured it to be. A lot. That meant the Wards little house here was actually larger than the King’s palace in the Capital.

Gah. Who'd waste the materials on something like that?

Well, these people apparently. Or at least their ancestors. But while impressive, a house half as big still would have been as neat and no one would notice the difference, would they?

Marvin Ward, giant, and incredible looking enough that Tor felt a twinge of envy just seeing him, stood and moved to his sister before she was even all the way through the door.

“Pet? Thank god! This is a horrible mess, everyone thinks we tried to kill a bunch of people and we didn't. I don't know what to do. Help.” The huge man picked his little sister up into a hug that took the younger girls feet all the way off the floor. It wasn't dignified, but it didn't look like the man disliked his little sister either. Not at all really.

Maria stood and smiled. As soon as the Count dropped his sister she started to bow, her hair shining and put up in an elegant fashion with twists, wearing a lovely and nearly shear gown of white, similar to Collette's. The movement looked quite proper until she stood and shook her head.

“No.” She said, looking down. “It's time to put the past behind me properly. Petra…”

Countess Ward went to her knees smoothly and bowed her head contritely. Body upright though. Pretty humble, but not as much as she'd shown Tor.

“I've been rude to you Petra, when I had no call to be, because of something that was my fault to begin with. I can't ask for forgiveness, but I apologize, and ask that I be given a chance to make it up to you over time. If I live that long I mean. If I'm dead you'll just have to trust that I mean it.”

The room went silent. The correct thing to do would be to accept the apology, of course. Even a hick like Tor knew that. It was the right thing to do if someone tried to apologize to you, even if you weren't sure they meant it. The effort counted. But… if there was a lot of bad blood, that could be hard to do. Her answer could be anything from kneeling herself, to slapping the woman, or trying to kill her. Given the shield she wore and the weapon she had on her waist, Tor hoped it wouldn't be that one. She might just be able to take out a large chunk of the Wards forces on her own right now, given her skill set. Maybe all of them.

Instead she nodded seriously.

“Right, well, we can work on that. I…” Reaching down she grabbed Maria under the arms and picked her up as easily as her brother had her. Then she wrapped her in a hug that was gentle enough.

“I can let things go, if you mean it.”

Maria cried.

The crying went on for a while, with the Count patting his wife on the back to console her, even though it wasn't the loud kind of crying Trice did and really, it didn't seem that unhappy. Why would she be so worked up? Oh, right, death penalty hanging over her head. That could put a person on edge for sure.

He knew the feeling, having worried about that exact same thing twice in his life already. Both in the last year, or just over now. It wasn't a fun place to be. Of course, in both cases he'd actually done what he thought he was going to be killed for. If she hadn't that probably made the whole thing even worse. How did you fight something that everyone thought was fact if it wasn't?

Petra looked around uneasily and saw her mother sitting on the right side of the room, which created a sudden stir, more hugging and laughing to go along with the crying. Not knowing what to do Tor looked around, avoiding direct eye contact while everyone else dealt with their own issues and greetings. The furniture was odd, made of wicker, like giant baskets with cushions in them. There were pads in the chairs, in a deep green material that looked like the Lairdgren colors.

The walls were a cool blue, nearly white and the light came from a magic plate on the ceiling, but not one Tor had made. It was a nice color though, and the plate itself felt like silver. The field was a little weak and would probably stop working inside six months.

Well, fields failed. You rented magic, you didn't own it, not really. On the far wall, behind where Maria and Marvin stood, there was one of his devices, a temperature control plate. That was probably why this was the cool room. Ah. Tor kind of wondered why the whole place wasn't done, but then he smiled. It was huge. It would be easier to get personal temperature equalizers for everyone. He could do that later. Well, some he could do now, he had about twenty with him, the glowing emotion reading ones.