Origin (Land of the Elementals Book 3), page 14
Karria just nodded numbly, following the gremlin as Kya was loaded onto a stretcher and carried along with them. Akkard was bringing up the rear, now talking to a few of the gremlins and clearly relieved. She was too tired and worn out to notice much else at the moment, and when Shukle showed her a tent, she went in and collapsed onto the cot without so much as a second thought. Despite all that had happened, she was out cold in a matter of seconds.
16
Arbor sat in his study, reading over what felt like the hundredth boring text on Lord Yancy, the man who singlehandedly invented the dinner fork and ‘Proper Fold’ handkerchief – a supposed staple in any good noble’s wardrobe – when there was a knock at his door. It had been well over a week since his soldiers had gone off to scout the creature in the volcano, so he was somewhat hopeful that they might have returned.
Prudence opened the door, and instead of a frantic gremlin, Sebastian stood there.
“Please tell me you’re here to rescue me from this cruel taskmistress,” Arbor groaned as he entered the room.
“Taskmistress, my lord?” Sebastian asked.
“Never mind,” Arbor muttered, remembering that Sebastian wasn’t really the joking type.
His humor was a lot dryer and was somehow polite despite its innate rudeness. Prudence, on the other hand, gave him a small smile before returning to her usual stoic posture. She’d grown just a bit more relaxed around him over the last week and a half, but still insisted on all the proper forms of address, adhering to the ‘butler’s code’ as she called it, and always remaining steadfast in her duties.
Sebastian, by contrast, was exactly the same as he always had been. He wore the same crisp uniform, the same perfectly combed hair, and the same shoes that shone so brightly that Arbor was blinded each time he looked down.
“I am here to remind you of your formal dinner with the Barons under your rule,” Sebastian said.
“Didn’t we cancel that?” Arbor asked, looking to Prudence for confirmation.
“I am afraid not, my lord,” Prudence replied. “Postponing a tour of your lands is one thing, but one cannot cancel on the nobility. At least, not without appearing to be rude, indifferent, or both. The last thing you want is a bunch of Barons who believe they’ve been snubbed.”
“Why wasn’t I reminded before now?” Arbor asked, looking between the two of them.
“I just assumed you’d known,” Prudence replied, bowing low at the waist. “I apologize for my blunder. It will not happen again.”
“Great,” Arbor muttered. “Just what I need. An evening of entertaining self-important assholes. Will I have any backup, at least?” he asked, directing this question at Sebastian.
“Unfortunately, my Lord, only nobles will be allowed at this dinner. Prudence will, of course, be by your side, but unless called upon to serve, she will remain at a polite distance. If you wish, I can always arrange a date…”
“I’ll go on my own,” Arbor said, quickly cutting that off before the head butler could get started. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes,” Sebastian said, still polite as ever. “Marquess Sindra and his wife, the Marchioness, will be coming as well. It was rather last-minute, but he wished to speak with you, and inviting him to dinner only seemed polite.”
“He’s here?!” Arbor exclaimed, his voice getting a bit stuck on the words.
Sindra was a Marquess, the highest-ranked a noble could be without being directly related to the Royal Family. If he was here and Arbor had kept him waiting…
“Of course not,” Sebastian said. “His message arrived by courier early this morning. He is apparently visiting one of the Barons who will be in attendance. My return message was responded to promptly, confirming his seat at your table.”
“Well, at least I’ll know someone there,” Arbor said with a sigh.
“Dinner will be served promptly at six. Prudence, please assure that our Lord is bathed and clothed in something appropriate by the time they arrive.”
Arbor was tempted to stick his tongue out at the butler as he turned to leave but figured it wouldn’t be very Lordly of him, so he contained the urge. But only just.
“This is quite the power-play on the Marquess’s part,” Prudence said as the door closed.
“How do you mean?”
“He is openly showing his support by coming to your private dinner with the Barons,” Prudence said, sliding her hand beneath the cover of his book and closing it with a snap. “This will let the Barons know that you have friends in high places and that any ideas of treachery or deceit would be bad for their health.”
“They’d really attack me?” Arbor asked as she went to place the book back on its shelf.
“Not openly, no,” Prudence replied. “But the nobility are always scheming. Trying to gain favor with the king by stepping on other nobles is one of their favorite pastimes. But, with the Marquess joining you as your guest, there will be much more pandering than scheming at this dinner.”
“I honestly don’t know which is worse,” Arbor muttered.
“If I may be so bold as to say, scheming, my Lord, is definitely worse,” Prudence said. “Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I will go ready your bath.”
Arbor nodded. He watched his butler head into his room and sighed internally. He still wasn’t used to having everything taken care of for him. Even mundane tasks that he could easily do himself, like picking clothes or running a bath, were seen to by his staff. He knew that this was how things were done for the nobility, but even though it had been nearly a month since he’d gained the title of Viscount, he didn’t much feel like a noble.
To distract himself while Prudence got the bath to the ‘ideal’ temperature and laid out his evening attire, Arbor pulled one of the drawers on his desk open and removed the blueprints that had been drawn up for the new town surrounding the manor. They would be building it with a full mile of space between his gates and the gates of the town, and Arbor still felt like it was too far away.
The town would house mostly his military and their families, but the farms and shops that would sprawl around them to supply such a large force would take up quite a bit of space. Just by looking at the blueprints, Arbor could see that five-hundred farms had been plotted out, each containing fifty acres. These farms were on either side of and behind the town. There had also been another two-hundred-and-fifty parcels of land, each plotted for the raising of livestock.
A massive logging camp had been plotted, as well as a sprawling barracks, complete with training grounds, stables, and smiths. While most of the craftsmen would be living in town, it was important that they had enough by the barracks to oversee repairs and new construction.
The town itself was quite large, having to contain housing for at least fifty thousand, though Saiko did note at the bottom that she was leaving extra room for future growth, and that she believed they might have to expand in the future. There also had to be room for marketplaces, leisure, and other assorted goods that would give those not working directly for his military plenty of work.
One of the first things Prudence had had him read were the requirements on tax revenue and how to keep his lands running and coffers full. She’d suggested raising the tax on various goods, which he’d flatly refused. He also refused to tax his soldiers, believing their pay to be well-earned. If they were willing to die for him, they deserved an exemption.
And, as of right now, if the Ryevine’s books were to be believed, there was plenty of taxable income being generated to keep them in the green. Yes, the influx of people would mean more expenses, but it would also mean more labor and goods being produced. Arbor knew he’d need to hire a good money-handler soon, but when it came to money, he was very reluctant to hand it off to a stranger.
It was one of the most valuable lessons his father had ever taught him. He basically preached not letting anyone handle his money, lest they take everything he had and leave him without so much as a copper to his name.
The door to his bedroom opened, and Prudence came back into the study.
“Your bath is ready, my lord.”
“Just a minute,” Arbor said, pulling a small green stump of wax from his desk drawer.
He grabbed the small light that always sat on his desk and used it to melt the green wax over a circular imprint on the bottom corner of the blueprint. After enough of the wax had melted, Arbor set the candle and stamped down, then pressed his signet ring into the center of the mass. The wax spread out as he pressed down, holding the ring in place for several seconds as the wax cooled and hardened. When he removed the ring, a likeness of a roaring jaguar remained embossed in the wax.
“I never get tired of doing that,” he said with a grin.
It was oddly satisfying and one of the only things he didn’t mind as a noble.
“Have this sent to Saiko when you get a chance,” he said, removing the corner weights and allowing the blueprint to roll back up. “I want those barracks up as soon as possible so the soldiers can stop living in tents.”
“Of course, my lord,” Prudence said, as he headed past her and into his room. “Do you require any assistance bathing?”
“No, Prudence, I don’t,” Arbor said, resisting the urge to let out another sigh.
He’d told her multiple times to stop asking, but she insisted that it was part of her job to offer. After an entire week, he’d just given up.
“Very well, my lord,” Prudence said, following him as he headed to the bathroom. “I will await you outside. If you should need any assistance, do not hesitate to call.”
“I won’t. Thank you, Prudence,” Arbor said, closing the door behind him.
He resisted the urge to lock it, knowing that Prudence would probably take it as an insult. She wouldn’t come in without his say so, that much he knew, but it still felt strange to leave the door unlocked.
Just one of the many things I’ll have to get used to, he thought as he stripped out of his clothes.
He could see the set Prudence had laid out for him and breathed an internal sigh of relief. While far dressier than his normal attire, it still looked manageable and breathable. He’d been afraid Sebastian’s insistence on ‘proper attire’ would involve pounds upon pounds of fluffy lace and ruffles. Thankfully, Prudence had taken his dislike of those clothes seriously and had not subjected him to that sort of needless torture.
His bath was a quick one by necessity, and though it was his second that day – his first coming after training – he still luxuriated in the huge tub. It was another one of the few things that he really enjoyed, despite its over-the-top nature. He looked at the two spigot handles. They were made of gleaming steel, replacing the diamond-studded monstrosities that had been there before. Much to no one’s surprise, the tub still looked beautiful and luxurious.
It was utterly ridiculous how much money had been wasted in pointless decoration, and since he’d gotten here, Arbor had replaced and collected some eight million in stones and precious metals. Sebastian was, of course, appalled, saying that the value of such items being replaced would diminish the value of the home. Arbor didn’t feel too bad about it, seeing as the manor was already worth about a hundred million.
He’d sat down with Funk and gotten the value of his entire estate. He personally owned some thousand acres that surrounded the property, and a portion of the new town’s tax revenue would be going to him as a form of rent for the people that lived there. Everything outside the area was owned by the king and merely governed by him, and while part of the tax revenue would go to Ryevine, a good portion would go off to the capital each year.
All told, with his manor, lands, and possessions, Frunk estimated his personal wealth to be worth somewhere in the range of three-hundred million gold, which was an absolutely staggering number. The region of Ryevine, on the other hand, including people, land, and resources, was worth around two and a half billion to the king, which, according to Frunk, was respectable, but certainly not the most impressive of all the towns.
Maybe I should just pull Frunk from the military and make him my head administrator, Arbor thought as he climbed out of the bath,
The gremlin was smart, organized, and invaluable in so many areas that it was almost a waste to leave him in the military. Grab and Shukle could hand the fighting just fine, and besides, Frunk wasn’t much of a warrior as it was. Arbor grabbed a towel, nodding to himself as he made up his mind. He would talk to Frunk about this tomorrow. Hopefully, the gremlin would accept his new position without too much fuss, and Arbor could pass off a lot of his nagging responsibilities to someone more qualified.
“Do you require assistance dressing, my lord?” Prudence asked, her voice drifting in through the door.
Arbor had grown used to her ridiculously sharp sense of hearing. It was a useful tool to have at one’s disposal, though at times like these, it was just plain annoying.
“No, Prudence, I can dress myself,” he replied, quickly moving to do just that, in case the woman took a delay to mean he needed help.
17
“Viscount Arbor, how lovely it is to meet you again.”
“Marquess, I’m so glad you could join us,” Arbor said, smiling as he approached the older man.
He looked the same as last time, though his clothes were a bit more formal and less militaristic. His salt and pepper hair was swept back, cropped short at the temples and neat as always. His wife, Marchioness Esther, was clinging to his arm, and Arbor took the proffered hand, kissing it gently before turning back to the Marquess.
“Yes, I wanted to talk to you and just happened to be visiting one of the nearby Barons. Your head butler was kind enough to invite me to dinner, and I simply couldn’t refuse.”
“Which of the Barons were you visiting, if I might ask?” Arbor said, looking back to the other four Barons, all of whom had turned at Sindra’s entrance and were talking amongst themselves in hushed whispers.
“That would be me,” a very-familiar-sounding voice said.
Arbor half-turned and saw Victoria, his biggest competitor in the competition, stride into the entryway, clad in a flowing blue gown and trailed by a butler.
“You’re one of the Barons in my region?” Arbor asked as the willowy blonde woman stopped beside the Marquess.
“Yes,” Victoria said, extending a hand for him to kiss. “It’s been far too long since we’ve seen one another, Viscount. We should really catch up.”
“Of course,” Arbor said, taking the proffered hand.
Though they had been competitors, he and Victoria had teamed up in the siege portion of the competition. After he’d won, she hadn’t seemed too angry with him, and judging by the fact that Sindra had gone to visit her, they were all on the same side as far as their stances on slavery and the mistreatment of other races went. Still, as far as he knew, this was a marathon, not a race, and it would take time to get slavery completely abolished.
“Now that everyone is here,” Sebastian called out in a carrying voice. “If you will, please follow me to the main dining room.”
“Would you mind escorting me, Viscount?” Victoria asked as the gathered Barons and Sindra each took their respective wives and dates by their arms. “As you can see, I’ve come alone.”
“Sure,” Arbor said, holding his arm out and allowing Victoria to slip her hand through the crook of his elbow. “And please, just call me Arbor,” he said in a lower voice. “I’m honestly getting sick and tired of all this formality.”
Victoria practically beamed at him, flashing him a smile that was near blinding in its intensity.
“I know what you mean,” she replied as the two of them headed for the dining room. “I’ve spent my entire life around wealthy people, and even I’m not used to all the stuffiness and formality that comes along with being a Baroness. I’m sorry to say that when we’re in public, though, I’ll have to keep using your title. I wouldn’t mind calling you by your name when we’re in…private. Nor would I mind you using mine.”
Arbor would have had to have been denser than a pile of bricks to miss the implications, especially with the way Victoria had said the word ‘private.’ Still, he put on a smile and pretended to let it fly right over his head. He had no interest in romance, and Victoria, while a great fighter, was hardly the type of woman he would consider as a potential wife. Their worlds had just been too different, and while Victoria was new to being a noble, her upbringing and wealth had instilled in her a certain grace that Arbor didn’t think he’d ever be able to match.
Thankfully, when it came to seating, Victoria was placed next to Esther, while Sindra was seated near Arbor. The spacing between them was ridiculous, though Sindra simply slid his chair a bit closer upon sitting down. The other Barons, of which there were three, and Baronesses – there were two – all sat around them. A round table had been purposefully brought out for this dinner so that none of the Barons would feel they were being disrespected.
A wider space was left between Arbor and the next Baron, a portly man named Pendotus, and his wife or date. Arbor wasn’t too sure who he was with. The woman accompanying him looked both far too young and attractive to be with him. Then again, love came in all forms, so Arbor decided he wouldn’t judge either of them based on this alone.
Dinner was quite nice, with several courses being served and Arbor making small talk with the other Barons. He talked with them about his plans moving forward, his upcoming expansions, and the way he planned to rule. They were quite pleased to hear that he wouldn’t be raising taxes, and they all became far more friendly after hearing that.
