{Looks horrified.}
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Defeated Tengar looks at the stone floor. "Alright. Let's give it a go." He forces a smile to his lips, turns, and opens the door for Zokon. The wizard, and Lord Medvyed await looking stern.
Zokon will await any inspiration from his companions and then knocks on the doors and makes his statement to his father. Zokon's father opens the door. Near the back of sitting room the other two lords stop speaking and look grimly at Zokon. Tengar takes Zokon's gently urges outside, pulling the door all but closed behind him. "Well?" "So we can offer Stroon a role in our new kingdom and Alia is Consort not co-ruler or wife, she will not be ruler after me. Marrying Pavetta is out, we have a biding arrangement in place and as a new ruler I must have my people backing me. The Stroons are welcome to join us." Upon hearing this Zokon's father looks at his son wild with undisguised panic. "You said you were going to come up with something!"
"Well I'm not sure how to get out of this one, I could talk with my compatriots and see if a deal could be made, maybe second wife or something. But I do not have full control yet and I'm not fool enough to try force something on my companions until they have given me the authority and thus placed their trust in me." "Don't just stand there then. I'll try and stall for you." Tengar shoves his son off toward the great hall.
"I know of wizards powers and their danger, but I was not the one who brokered the deal with him. Is there something else that he may be satisfied with? Another political alliance or something that we can promise him in the future?" Zokon asks his father earnestly "Who can know the mind of a wizard? Only the deaths of those he's deemed to have insulted him seems to calm Stroon." Tengar says darkly. He returns to pacing and then finally says: "Why can you not just marry his sister? Their family is wealthy enough."
dice:
"Hmm." Tengar considers his son's words. Then he turns and looks back at the door they had both just come from. "What of Stroon? He was looking for a land alliance and you have already ignited his infamous temper."
Zokon follows him.
"What are you doing?" snaps Zokon's father to his son. "There is a chance for an alliance with one of the most powerful wizards in the kingdom and you want to throw it away on-- on what? An elf? By the time she's middle-aged you will be long gone to dust and forgotten." He takes an pace away and then angrily spins back. "And do you think that your backers in Restov or the King Regent will allow you to sell the Stolen Land out from underneath them to elves in a distant land? They'd kill you first!" He seems to calm a bit. "Marry Pavetta. Give her child or four. Have your elf, and half-elf girls on the side, and leave her to her dog. Remember, you are a Santyev. Now let us go back and make our apologies to Stroon and pray he doesn't turn us into anything unnatural."
"Come!" Tengar Santyev commands his son.
"Trollop? You've seen her, she is no mere courtly trollop to foist upon someone for political gain. She is a representative of the Elves of Kyonin and represents their interests as Duchess in the soon to be Duchy of New Avalon." he pauses for a second to let that sink in. "The white-haired one?" "You forget I was not slated to be leader of this group. I managed to work my way to the position by making a deal with Durgan and Alia to leverage my connections to you and take the seat of Duke. You will gain an important ally and political power in the new realm by supporting us." Zokon waits for a response The response comes, but is not directed at Zokon.
"What's all this about you having an elf trollop?" demands Zokon's father of his son. Lord Medvyed strains to keep his expression neutral at his courtier's lack of irony. For his part, Imeckus's face might have been graven of stone.
"Excuse me my dear." says Santyev to Serena, "I shall be but a moment." Santyev moves to join the Lord of Stoneclimb, as the nobles at the other tables murmur among themselves.
"We have made a pact between all our group-" "What!?" says the elder Santyev looking around the table, confused, at all the (somewhat strange) people assembled there starting with Serena. Lady looks Stroon aghast. Her dog doesn't look that happy either.
"So wait--you are not marrying them all then?"
Lord Santyev sits back taking a large, almost self-satisfied quaff from his goblet.
People at the next table flash some side eye Santyev rather than actually speaking up to shush him. "Is she with child? Do you know if it is yours? Listen Zokon, noble men often find themselves targeted for such intrigues, especially when such strumpets see a path to wealth, and easy living in the lovelorn eyes of an inexperienced youth such as yourself. I blame your mother for not explaining these things to you."
"Good to see you Pavetta, you've grown into a beautiful woman, Bythe strong and silent as always and Imeckus a wizard wow. I mean you look good. It seems I must have a conversation with you father, as concerns the new lands and my groups arrangements for it's leadership." "'Group'?" Lord Santyev says looking surprised. "What do you mean, son?" Before Zokon can answer. Bythe bends his ear to remind him that the hall's proceedings are indeed proceeding. Zokon's father turns back to Zokon. "We shall speak of it later for now though we must attend our Lord Medvyed. There is space for your companions at our table. And this lovely one may sit at my side."
"What is your name, lovely one?" He says to Serena.
Lord Santyev takes his son, Zokon aside and says "Now that you have reached your majority, it is time for you to be wed. I have asked for Lord Medvyed's blessing, and he has given it. The ceremony will happen tonight. Do not waste energy thanking me my son, save your energy for you honeymoon sport this night after the festivities."
"And someone I'm sure you have been waiting to see, your childhood betrothed Lady Pavetta Stroon."
"Well met! And now I believe some introductions are in order." says Lord Santyev. "I'm sure you remember your brother, my eldest son, Bythe...."
"Zokon." says a distinguished middle-aged nobleman at head. He comes forward and embraces Zokon and manly hug. |