For a second it looked like she'd been hit in the stomach when he said it. Tor's mom didn't ask him how he knew at least. She just took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking her son straight in the eye.
“That's… pretty close to the idea. Yes. You do too, have the trait, obviously, and I think your little sister Tiera may as well. We're watching her for the signs, she might not, it can be hard to see at first, especially with girls. Now, we weren't planning on keeping you in the dark forever, we've just been telling each of the kids when they got old enough, eighteen so far. So your older brother Teral and sister Terlee both know, and have for a bit. It hasn't been an issue yet. None of you would inherit anything from your grandfather anyway, since he probably isn't going anywhere any time soon.”
Well, Tor thought. Interesting. It didn't change anything of course. He was still going to fake marry Trice, if she'd have him and was going to try and increase his family's fortune if they wanted it. An interesting story, but other than making the wedding a reunion of sorts, it really didn't matter much. Well, it mattered, of course, but it shouldn't force them to do anything differently than everyone had planned. His parents could even keep playing poor country baker family if they wanted.
His mom shrugged as they discussed the idea.
“At least until you kids are all grown, if we can now. It may not be possible. Being raised as nobles can ruin kids as often as not though, and we have too many to take the chance with. Then again, we may take a turn off in the Capital or something. All of the people there have gotten too used to nobles being tall I bet. About time they remembered the rest of us.” Her gaze met Rolph dead in the eye. Without asking she pointed with her whole hand and spoke clearly.
“Rolph? Not your actual name is it? I bet you're Richard and Connie's first, Alphonse? You look a lot like Ricky did at your age, if with better hair. How is Connie anyway? I always liked her.”
Trice chuckled. “Oh fine, when she's not trying to get Tor into bed. I don't think she's managed it though…”
Everyone laughed at him again. Sigh. Well, at least this explained the combat rage thing, possibly at least. Well enough for now. It left him feeling uneasy, but then life had been doing that to him for a while now, so it wasn't a big deal. Even the idea that he was some kind of royal. Kind of a shock, but it really wasn't like the knowledge changed anything for him, did it?
They didn't, as he'd assured them, have any great inns or anything for sleeping in, so the Morgans had bought tents, three of them, so that no one would be put out of a bed. Luckily the things, packed in an extra case each, were huge. The tan canvas came with metal rods, pipes so they didn't weight as much, and made a structure that would be big enough to sleep eight normal people or three of the freakishly over large royals in each. The floors were even padded, so along with the temperature equalizing fields, they should be comfortable enough for the night.
Tor had to introduce each of the kids multiple times, but all the T-names proved too confusing for the new people, even Rolph who'd heard all the names for years off and on. It was different when you had a face to go with it. The only kid that got remembered was his younger brother Timon who'd decided in the last months to try and get everyone to call him Weasel. It wasn't sticking in the village much, but all the new people adopted it eagerly. Of course that meant that whenever anyone needed to find something or someone, Weasel was the one they called in for it. The poor boy spent most of the time running to get things for Sara and Patricia. He didn't seem to mind, finding Sara to be extremely pretty.
Weasel, apparently, liked blonds.
Using his thick Two Bends accent he allowed to Tor that his Patricia was pretty too, but she was already spoken for. Tor nodded and didn't remind his little brother that at nine, he may not have the best chance in the world with a rich merchant's daughter. Sara wouldn't be rude about it at least. Well, she'd always been kind to Tor at any rate and seemed to follow that code of the upper crust closely. Of course “Weasel” was being a lot more forward than he'd ever been, and might ask for her hand before they left. Tor knew because his brother confided this to him as he and the rest of the family helped set the tents up.
“Well… If you're really interested you need to have ma get in touch with her mother in the Capital and see about making arrangements, maybe send a go-between. I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you, but that's how they do it, most of the time. You couldn't marry until you were at least fourteen though, which is a long time for someone like her to stay unmarried.”
His brother kept helping for a while then went off to find his mom a little later, trying to be casual about it. Tor had to fight to keep from laughing about the whole thing and so did Rolph, but Sara just brushed her blond bangs out of her eyes and looked after him with a soft sigh.
“I've… had worse offers. We'd have to wait a while of course. I'm not marrying a twelve year old. He'd have to be at least fourteen.”
Right, he realized, since that part hadn't gotten translated, the girl didn't know that Weasel had just been told that. It was strange hearing it repeated, but probably meant it was a good point. It was considered kind of evil to be involved with anyone younger than that, wasn't it?
Tor thought that she was kidding at first, but her eyes were serious and dark when she said it. Patricia came around the tent and hugged her, but didn't say exactly what the problem was.
“Yeah,” Patricia, who asked them all to call her that until they reached the school, shook a little, shivered like she was cold. She wasn't of course, even if she'd forgotten her amulet for it, she'd have been too hot, not chilly. So fear then?
“If Tor hadn't made his play when he did I would have had to marry Count Overland, you can't really put off a Count easily for long. He's… Really he's a nice guy which makes it all that much harder, if he was a jerk it would have been a lot easier and we could have just sent an emissary to calm things down. But he's seventy-eight and even if I could get past the ick factor enough to sleep with him regularly, which I suppose I could if I tried, he really is a good guy after all, he'll probably drop in a few years anyway.”
The others all knew what that meant, except Tor. Oh, he got the sex part, but the rest went past him totally. Tovey explained it, his deep voice slow and considering.
“Overland already has an heir, so while his new wife would be a Countess, that would go away when he died and she wouldn't really get anything out of it. So, while he'd get a cute young woman to have around until he went, Tri-Patricia, wouldn't have anything to show for it in the end. Tor, in a lot of ways, is a better match, and was even before we knew that he was a Countier. At least he'll be around for a while, long enough to take care of any kids that might come about. Plus, even a Count will have to admit that her marrying Tor is at least as legitimate as marrying him, if not more so. A floating sky river kind of catches the attention.”
For some reason Sara perked up a little at that.
“Right, so that makes Weasel a Countier, what, seventh or eighth? I could sell mom on that. Not as good as landing you would have been of course Tor, but I imagine you're going to be setting up businesses for your family? Like you did with the Morgans? So just set him up quick so that his financial profile looks good.”
Tor laughed at first, but then stopped suddenly, an idea coming to him.
“Well, it's not shipping large scale things, but I wonder if people would pay for rapid mail and package delivery at all? I know that Rolph has wanted to get things from school back home a few times. I can get them the flying gear and shields, even floats for boxes to carry stuff in. It isn't really cargo hauling, but…” He smiled and Sara's eyes went wide, excited even.