“Mm. I’m sure.” He made a noncommittal hum and rounded the corners of the desk, dropping into Grandfather’s tufted chair. Tiberius had no shortage of cousins and even a few siblings still living – but none of them could quite match his talent for magic. The closest, his youngest half-sister, had married into House Serpentis. At least, that had been the state of things six years ago, and that wouldn’t do. The House couldn’t afford to be helmed by a weak mage – or, even worse, by one whose conflicting loyalties might threaten their entire existence.
A Serpentis and Umbra merger would be too dangerous to consider, something to threaten the careful balance of the High Houses. The High Houses came down on threats all together and harshly at that.
Anyway, now? With demons and spirits taking up residence in most any magic-gifted soul, who could say who might be strongest. Despair was only a middling sort of demon – as people kept taking pains to remind him.
“Well, thank you for that. I’m glad I won’t have to become a siblicide immediately. Or a patricide, at that.” Indeed, he was glad not to have to think of it further, to not have to wonder if he’d be capable of it. Probably, if pressed. He had to consider people other than his own sorry self for the first time in quite a while. Speaking of …
“You said earlier that my Mother is well? That’s good; you may announce away.” He pulled experimentally at the desk drawers. Top two, locked. The bottom file, open. He pulled out a dusty handle of brandy and held it up speculatively to the light. Tacitus Ursus was being rather presumptive, as if stars of Tiberius’s birth didn’t automatically mean that he could piss this all away if he wished.
“Probably best to keep Grandfather propped up until I’m prepared, then. But I’ll need the master bedroom made ready by tonight. He never used it anyway.” He bit the cork and pulled it out of the bottle. The stuff inside did not smell promising at all.
“First though, I’ll need your oath. Especially if you’re going to continue doing … Well, all the stuff you’ve been up to. Acting in the House’s name.” Tiberius set the questionable bottle aside and motioned Tacitus over. He held out his hands, to take the other man’s between them.
“No need to look so grim. Fealty goes two ways.”
A Serpentis and Umbra merger would be too dangerous to consider, something to threaten the careful balance of the High Houses. The High Houses came down on threats all together and harshly at that.
Anyway, now? With demons and spirits taking up residence in most any magic-gifted soul, who could say who might be strongest. Despair was only a middling sort of demon – as people kept taking pains to remind him.
“Well, thank you for that. I’m glad I won’t have to become a siblicide immediately. Or a patricide, at that.” Indeed, he was glad not to have to think of it further, to not have to wonder if he’d be capable of it. Probably, if pressed. He had to consider people other than his own sorry self for the first time in quite a while. Speaking of …
“You said earlier that my Mother is well? That’s good; you may announce away.” He pulled experimentally at the desk drawers. Top two, locked. The bottom file, open. He pulled out a dusty handle of brandy and held it up speculatively to the light. Tacitus Ursus was being rather presumptive, as if stars of Tiberius’s birth didn’t automatically mean that he could piss this all away if he wished.
“Probably best to keep Grandfather propped up until I’m prepared, then. But I’ll need the master bedroom made ready by tonight. He never used it anyway.” He bit the cork and pulled it out of the bottle. The stuff inside did not smell promising at all.
“First though, I’ll need your oath. Especially if you’re going to continue doing … Well, all the stuff you’ve been up to. Acting in the House’s name.” Tiberius set the questionable bottle aside and motioned Tacitus over. He held out his hands, to take the other man’s between them.
“No need to look so grim. Fealty goes two ways.”
05-13-2024, 07:57 PM
