“Thank you, sir. I understand, sir.”
“Don’t thank me. Whatever twist of fate or fancy has swayed the king will not happen again. My fellow officers and I will not suffer your ambition. You will be watched, Captain, and don’t think you could ever hope to rise above the rank of major.”
“I would never dream of it, sir.”
“And don’t be sarcastic with me. You will be watched, I say. Now get out of my office.”
Tamas left from the room, glad to be away from Seske’s ire, but paused in the hallway to allow himself a victorious smile. Colonel Westeven met him there a moment later, offering his hand and congratulations. Tamas shook with the colonel and then left the House of Nobles, with a spring back in his step.
He jogged down the front steps, pausing in the public square to look around at the organized chaos of the daily traffic, feeling confident in his career for the first time in months. He spread his arms, breathing in deep. Spring would arrive soon. Black Tar Forest was cold and dark in the spring, but it was better than having his career dashed to pieces. Come the summer they would prepare for another campaign and he’d be back in Gurla where he could hope for advancement.
“Captain Tamas.”
The voice was sharp, like a whip. Tamas turned to find it belonged to a tall woman in her early forties, clothed in fine furs and standing beneath a frilled parasol. Two young retainers flanked her at a respectful distance, wearing demure black suits with small swords at their waists.
The woman looked him up and down, much like a noble preparing to buy a race horse. He stared back at her, suddenly defiant. Who was this woman? What did she think she was doing, looking him over like a piece of meat?
“My lady,” Tamas said, bowing hesitantly. “You have me at a disadvantage.”
She didn’t answer but rather approached him, walking slowly as she did a circuit around him. She was obviously a noble, and Tamas remembered that the king had done something similar to him on their last meeting. What was it about the nobility that made them treat the common people like cattle?
He felt his anger begin to rise. He did not deserve this. He did not need this. Not today of all days, when he had finally come away from a conflict with the nobility triumphant.
“What business,” she finally said, halfway around her second circuit of him, “do you have with my daughter?”
“Excuse me?”
The woman came to stop in front of him. Her eyes were severe, her chin raised in a distasteful vein of superiority. Tamas thought he saw a hint of Erika in this woman, but it was difficult to say. “You heard me, Captain. I am the Lady Pensbrook, daughter of the duke of Leora, mother of the duchess-heir of Leora.”
Nothing had prepared Tamas for this. He could see the resemblance now in the eyes. This woman was much taller than Erika, but she had similar ears, similar blond hair. He felt himself sweating, and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Their voices had not raised above a casual tone, and no one seemed to pay them any mind as they stared at each other in the public square.
“You’re not a very good liar, Captain. I will ask once more, and I demand an honest answer.”
Tamas balled his fists at his sides. The curl of her lip. The disdain. This woman already hated him and they had barely met. It made him want to scream. “I intend to marry her,” Tamas said. “I intend to climb the ranks to field marshal, and then I will make her my wife, and there’s nothing you can do to stop that.”
“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