Chapter 150: A Bitter Drink
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Chapter 150: A Bitter Drink
A Bitter Drink
Practising the different elements during his lesson with Master Alastair, a question came to mind. He had been introduced to the specifics of water, air, and soon also earth; what of the fourth? "Master, will I be doing a monthly course involving fire? Just as I have done one for the other elements."
"No, no." The teacher shook his head. "It would only endanger your secret. Besides, we already know you are skilled with fire. Fortunately, Mistress Juliana is in charge of your schedule and has simply left it out. That will give you more time to prepare for your examination."
"I'm still not sure how that is supposed to go, or what is expected of me."
"All in good time," Master Alastair reassured him. "Now practice your air and fire again. If you are ever out in a thunderstorm as a weathermage, you better know how to direct lightning away from yourself."
~
Martel stood with Maximilian outside the gate of the school. "Should I have changed my clothes?" the novice asked, suddenly remembering that he was going to a palace.
The young viscount waved his hand around in a dismissive gesture. "No, better that you look like a mage. My father is not one to be impressed by clothing, anyway."
"Oh, all right. Wait, am I trying to impress your father?"
"No, not him. Well, perhaps initially, and we should not get us ahead of ourselves."
Martel gave him a confused look. "What?"
"Never mind. Just be as you are, answer my father's questions, and make polite conversation."
Martel could not grasp what made Maximilian seem almost anxious, other than the impression that his friend was perhaps a bit cowed by his father. Before he could ask again, the carriage arrived, ready to bring them to the seat of the House of Marche in Morcaster.
~
On the drive, Martel tried a few more times to get an explanation from his friend about the nature of their visit. Receiving only vague answers, the novice had to settle for patience.
They entered the stately mansion through one of the smaller entrances like last time, rather than through the front doors. The majordomo waited for them, bowing in greeting.
Maximilian inclined his head in response. "Where is my father, in his study?"
"I was told to bid you wait for him in the western drawing-room, and he shall join you shortly."
"There are some who must, I suppose. But my son claims you played a part when he took down the Tyrian berserker."
"I helped. Maximilian took the brunt of the fight." Martel glanced at his friend again, who sat uneasy in his seat.
"I see." Silence developed as the count continued to scrutinise the novice, who did not dare to speak. "Martel, while you drink your coffee, will you excuse me and my son? I require his attention for a family matter."
As his host stood up, the novice scrambled to do the same. "Of course, my lord."
~
Moving to a different chamber, the count turned around to look at his son. "I am not convinced."
"I tell you, father, Duke Cheval has taken an interest in him for a reason."
"None at the Imperial court has ever hired an alchemist before."
"They may not have considered the opportunity to hire one trained in Sindhian methods before," Maximilian argued.
"Regardless, we may already be too late, if the duke has taken control of the boy."
"If that were the case, Martel would have told me. In any case, he may be of use with His Highness, giving me a chance to gain favour."
The count stroke his beard. "Fine. Invite him."
"Yes, father."
"Also, I have decided you should marry the Fontaine girl."
Maximilian cleared his throat. "Eleanor?"
"Certainly not the younger," the count scoffed.
"Very well, father."
"Keep it quiet for now. Go back with your friend. I will see you next fiveday."
Maximilian bowed his head. "Yes, father."
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Chapter 150: A Bitter Drink
A Bitter Drink
Practising the different elements during his lesson with Master Alastair, a question came to mind. He had been introduced to the specifics of water, air, and soon also earth; what of the fourth? "Master, will I be doing a monthly course involving fire? Just as I have done one for the other elements."
"No, no." The teacher shook his head. "It would only endanger your secret. Besides, we already know you are skilled with fire. Fortunately, Mistress Juliana is in charge of your schedule and has simply left it out. That will give you more time to prepare for your examination."
"I'm still not sure how that is supposed to go, or what is expected of me."
"All in good time," Master Alastair reassured him. "Now practice your air and fire again. If you are ever out in a thunderstorm as a weathermage, you better know how to direct lightning away from yourself."
~
Martel stood with Maximilian outside the gate of the school. "Should I have changed my clothes?" the novice asked, suddenly remembering that he was going to a palace.
The young viscount waved his hand around in a dismissive gesture. "No, better that you look like a mage. My father is not one to be impressed by clothing, anyway."
"Oh, all right. Wait, am I trying to impress your father?"
"No, not him. Well, perhaps initially, and we should not get us ahead of ourselves."
Martel gave him a confused look. "What?"
"Never mind. Just be as you are, answer my father's questions, and make polite conversation."
Martel could not grasp what made Maximilian seem almost anxious, other than the impression that his friend was perhaps a bit cowed by his father. Before he could ask again, the carriage arrived, ready to bring them to the seat of the House of Marche in Morcaster.
~
On the drive, Martel tried a few more times to get an explanation from his friend about the nature of their visit. Receiving only vague answers, the novice had to settle for patience.
They entered the stately mansion through one of the smaller entrances like last time, rather than through the front doors. The majordomo waited for them, bowing in greeting.
Maximilian inclined his head in response. "Where is my father, in his study?"
"I was told to bid you wait for him in the western drawing-room, and he shall join you shortly."
"There are some who must, I suppose. But my son claims you played a part when he took down the Tyrian berserker."
"I helped. Maximilian took the brunt of the fight." Martel glanced at his friend again, who sat uneasy in his seat.
"I see." Silence developed as the count continued to scrutinise the novice, who did not dare to speak. "Martel, while you drink your coffee, will you excuse me and my son? I require his attention for a family matter."
As his host stood up, the novice scrambled to do the same. "Of course, my lord."
~
Moving to a different chamber, the count turned around to look at his son. "I am not convinced."
"I tell you, father, Duke Cheval has taken an interest in him for a reason."
"None at the Imperial court has ever hired an alchemist before."
"They may not have considered the opportunity to hire one trained in Sindhian methods before," Maximilian argued.
"Regardless, we may already be too late, if the duke has taken control of the boy."
"If that were the case, Martel would have told me. In any case, he may be of use with His Highness, giving me a chance to gain favour."
The count stroke his beard. "Fine. Invite him."
"Yes, father."
"Also, I have decided you should marry the Fontaine girl."
Maximilian cleared his throat. "Eleanor?"
"Certainly not the younger," the count scoffed.
"Very well, father."
"Keep it quiet for now. Go back with your friend. I will see you next fiveday."
Maximilian bowed his head. "Yes, father."
Chapter 150: A Bitter DrinkA Bitter DrinkPractising the different elements during his lesson with Master Alastair, a question came to mind. He had been introduced to the specifics of water, air, and soon also earth; what of the fourth? "Master, will I be doing a monthly course involving fire? Just as I have done one for the other elements.""No, no." The teacher shook his head. "It would only endanger your secret. Besides, we already know you are skilled with fire. Fortunately, Mistress Juliana is in charge of your schedule and has simply left it out. That will give you more time to prepare for your examination.""I'm still not sure how that is supposed to go, or what is expected of me.""All in good time," Master Alastair reassured him. "Now practice your air and fire again. If you are ever out in a thunderstorm as a weathermage, you better know how to direct lightning away from yourself."~Martel stood with Maximilian outside the gate of the school. "Should I have changed my clothes?" the novice asked, suddenly remembering that he was going to a palace.The young viscount waved his hand around in a dismissive gesture. "No, better that you look like a mage. My father is not one to be impressed by clothing, anyway.""Oh, all right. Wait, am I trying to impress your father?""No, not him. Well, perhaps initially, and we should not get us ahead of ourselves."Martel gave him a confused look. "What?""Never mind. Just be as you are, answer my father's questions, and make polite conversation."Martel could not grasp what made Maximilian seem almost anxious, other than the impression that his friend was perhaps a bit cowed by his father. Before he could ask again, the carriage arrived, ready to bring them to the seat of the House of Marche in Morcaster.~On the drive, Martel tried a few more times to get an explanation from his friend about the nature of their visit. Receiving only vague answers, the novice had to settle for patience.They entered the stately mansion through one of the smaller entrances like last time, rather than through the front doors. The majordomo waited for them, bowing in greeting.Maximilian inclined his head in response. "Where is my father, in his study?""I was told to bid you wait for him in the western drawing-room, and he shall join you shortly.""There are some who must, I suppose. But my son claims you played a part when he took down the Tyrian berserker.""I helped. Maximilian took the brunt of the fight." Martel glanced at his friend again, who sat uneasy in his seat."I see." Silence developed as the count continued to scrutinise the novice, who did not dare to speak. "Martel, while you drink your coffee, will you excuse me and my son? I require his attention for a family matter."As his host stood up, the novice scrambled to do the same. "Of course, my lord."~Moving to a different chamber, the count turned around to look at his son. "I am not convinced.""I tell you, father, Duke Cheval has taken an interest in him for a reason.""None at the Imperial court has ever hired an alchemist before.""They may not have considered the opportunity to hire one trained in Sindhian methods before," Maximilian argued."Regardless, we may already be too late, if the duke has taken control of the boy.""If that were the case, Martel would have told me. In any case, he may be of use with His Highness, giving me a chance to gain favour."The count stroke his beard. "Fine. Invite him.""Yes, father.""Also, I have decided you should marry the Fontaine girl."Maximilian cleared his throat. "Eleanor?""Certainly not the younger," the count scoffed."Very well, father.""Keep it quiet for now. Go back with your friend. I will see you next fiveday."Maximilian bowed his head. "Yes, father."
