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“I doubt you will. As for everyone else, you look close enough to Philre. He left at fourteen, and a man can change a lot as he grows up. He was a bit thin too, and not everyone fills out a lot. Say you’re twenty-one, and I’ll make a list of things you should remember.”
He hadn’t even started on anything, and he was already overwhelmed. He'd been middle class before he was a street whore, but he didn't know how to take care of a holding or anything like that. “I don’t know what to write.”
“Here. I’ll do it, but you do need to sign. Likely, someone under the King will scan this, make sure it's noted, and forget about it. Lord Mather never did anything to annoy the King, so they have no reason to reject you.”
He vaguely watched her write on the vellum in her neat script before she put the quill in his hand. "Sign it. Philre Mather.”
He scrawled the name. This was it. He was a damn Baron now, and he’d rather be dead.
“You were there so tell me something.” She sat on the edge of the bed. "The day we got you from Calatan, everyone was saying King Leneer betrayed ours, and the court attacked during dinner. The triplets and everyone else tried to slaughter King Taven and his guests. Is it true?”
Aspen shook his head. “No. King Taven betrayed us.”
She pursed her lips for a moment. “Everyone seems to believe King Taven from what I've heard so far. He's always been a decent King, but I guess…” She took a deep breath. “I guess those goldmines were tempting, and his income from taxes and trade will have doubled. People have done worse for less money. I never thought he’d be a King who would allow prisoners to be taken and sold as slaves either. He’s also saved his reputation enough if everyone thinks King Leneer attempted to stab him in the back. The thing about slaves is that when one fairy is allowed to own another, the worst can come out in certain people.”
That meant that if Oriel was still alive, and he probably was, he’d be sold as a slave. His new Master might delight in being cruel to him.
Oriel deserved every damn thing. He’d tried to hold onto the seal even though he’d already lost while Aspen was burned with a damn poker. He’d only broken when that lord threatened to cut off his cock, and it proved he’d never loved Aspen. That had all been a lie two years ago. He’d never seen Aspen as more than something to use.
Now, he’d be a lord, and Oriel could see what it was like to be a real slave. The problem with that was that Aspen didn't know what he was doing.
“I know bad things happened before, but you can look forward now.” She patted his arm. “Nobody can hurt you now.”
He’d already been hurt too much.
She tried to stuff as much food as possible into him when she brought meals. He mostly slept, but she finally dragged him from bed and made him take a proper bath after she trimmed his hair shorter. That one lord, the one with orange eyes who’d revealed Oriel’s treachery, hopefully didn’t live around here. Sira chattered on and said he needed to remember stuff in case people probed.
Most of it flew out of his head. He let her treat him like a doll and bring him outside.
“You don’t have to talk to anybody too much,” she murmured.
He saw the waiting carriage, and the grey horses stamped their hooves. “Where are we going?”
“Lord Mather is being buried. It's the third day."
Oh. The funeral for his not-Father. He hadn’t even considered that, and it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“I want to go back to bed.”
“You have to go. Everyone will think you’re a good boy for coming back to see your Father before he passed.”
“Who was in the wrong?” he asked once he settled in the carriage. Maybe everyone in Cardinal’s Brook would hate him.
She bit her lip. “I don’t know what they really argued about. They kept that more private. I think they both might have been wrong. There were a few rumors that Lord Mather beat his son or something silly like that, but I can assure you, that never happened. He wasn’t that type. He and his wife thought they’d never have a baby, and Philre came along…it killed her. She was too old and delicate to be having babies, and Lord Mather treasured his son since he was all he had left. There's no one else.”
If she thought he was going to keep the line going, she was dead wrong. He stared out of the window for an hour until the carriage stopped, and Sira made him get out.
Not many came to the funeral. Lan was already there with a Mage, and candles had been lit around the mausoleum where he’d be laid to rest. Aspen wished he could join him there.
He had no clue who the others were, but they must have been "friends" who came out of the barest duty. They murmured condolences that didn't sound too convincing. He focused on the casket while the Mage prayed to Elira. He couldn’t even feel sad about the poor guy. Numbness was all he felt. Maybe he could jump off the balcony when Sira wasn’t around. Or slit his wrists.
Or he could stick around and be happy that the bastard was suffering. But he couldn’t remember how to be happy either.
A couple of men who were likely in charge of the graveyard carried the casket inside. Lan said he’d make sure it was all done before he returned. Sira told the others there wouldn’t be a dinner since “Philre” wanted to grieve in peace. The others seemed to accept that and hastily left to forget about Lord Mather and get on with their own lives.
Aspen sat in the carriage again and curled up on the seat, not caring if he wrinkled his fancy coat.
She sighed. “You need to be getting up in the mornings for a little exercise. You also should make some friends. Lord Delwin has a son about your age named Roth. I never met him, but I heard he’s a nice boy.”
