Noble Arcana

“You don’t get to choose who your family is.”

Martin Dentus’s last words before his execution.

The manor was dark as he crept through the halls. He was keenly aware of every sound he made as he moved, his small feet making only the lightest of sounds as he walked along thick carpets that were spread across each room. The servants were asleep, as was his family.

He should’ve been sleeping along with them, but he’d been restless. He normally only attempted to sneak around during the day as that was when he’d be most likely to hear the servants talking. He liked hearing them talk. They spoke about who had been seen with who, what their plans were for the holiday, rumors they’d heard about one another. It was so different from what he spoke about with his parents, with his siblings. It was like they walked the same halls, but lived in another world.

He crept into a servants passage and walked quietly through, hoping to make his way to the kitchens. His mother had a cake made for Jude who had refused to share it. He hoped to steal a slice while it was chilling in the cellar.

He heard noises at the far end of the hall, and saw that a candle had been lit further up. Curious, he started to move toward it-

…

Solomon awoke. There was perspiration on his forehead and he was breathing quickly. He’d managed to wake before the nightmare had reached its crescendo, but he still took several minutes to calm himself down. He looked to the side table and saw a cup of water there for him. He lifted it and took a sip, clearing his throat. He left the bed and walked to the window. He was on the second floor of the Inn in the largest room. Outside it was still dark. He checked his watch and found they were still two hours from dawn.

He saw purple eyes in the corner of his vision, hiding in his shadow.

“Good evening, Aristopheles.”

“Your sleep has been troubled,” the demon said in his rumbling baritone.

“Yes.”

“When nightmares attempt to invade my mind I simply pluck them free and devour them. The taste is quite pleasant, especially if they’ve fattened themselves in this realm first.”

“They are physical creatures?”

The eyes bobbed left and right. “Not exactly. They are dreams and they are creatures. Things born from mortal minds can take shape in the eyes of demons and fey. Our rules are different.”

Solomon took another sip, looking out on the town quietly.

“I could teach you a spell to ensure good dreams.”

“I already know one,” replied Solomon simply.

“What about one to remove the source of the bad dream entirely? To dismiss a fear completely? Or pluck a memory from your mind? For the right price, I can teach you any of these.”

Solomon shook his head. “No. The memory is important. So is the fear. I wouldn’t be me without them. I appreciate the offer though.”

“Hrmm,” grumbled the demon.

“What?”

“Your politesse. I find it disturbing.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. The mortals that summon us tend to treat us as gods or as slaves. Courtesy is not something I’ve ever experienced.”

“Would you prefer I simply make demands?”

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“I’d prefer you to grovel and beg for the opportunity to make more sacrifices for me.”

“I shan’t.”

“Then politesse is acceptable.”

Solomon chuckled, finding himself oddly comforted from the conversation with the demon. In truth his politesse was a reflex. The best way to avoid a slap across the hands from his tutors, or to keep his siblings from escalating from taunts to strikes.

“Have you had many masters?”

“Yes.”

“Are you aware of the Arcana?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know the true identity of The Devil?”

“Which one?” asked his shadow, its eyes smiling.

Solomon frowned and reconsidered his questions. Had he been more alert he may have thought them through before asking.

“Would you consider even one master many?”

“Yes.”

“When you said yes to being aware of the Arcana did you just mean the cards?”

“No.”

“Do you know the identity of The Devil, the member of the Arcana secret society?”

“Yes.”

“What would be the price to know it?”

Teeth formed beneath the eyes and spread into a wide black smile.

“I would tell you for free. All you need is to ask it directly.”

Solomon frowned, taking a gentle sip of his water. He was curious, but given the demon’s glee at potentially being asked the question, he decided against it.

“No.”

The demon’s smile faded back into shadow.

“If you were to be summoned after I dismiss you, would you reveal my identity if asked?”

“It would depend on what was bargained for.”

“What would it take for you to ensure my anonymity?”

“Five intelligent souls. Innocents.”

Solomon sighed and walked back to his bed. “We’ll pick this back some other time. Thank you for the company. Return to silence.”

The eyes regarded him for a moment from the darkness, then closed and disappeared.

Solomon set his water down and laid back in bed, closing his eyes. He managed nearly a full hour of dreamless sleep before he was awoken by Melissa drawing the curtains back to let in the sun.

He got up and had a light breakfast before climbing into the carriage for the last part of the journey before they reached the Estate.

Solomon found himself unable to sleep in the carriage this time. Instead watched as they gradually left the main road and began to head through the winding road to the estate. The land his family owned accounted for massive swathes between Brevantiss and Ventariss as well as an enormous chunk of the Reach. Originally his family’s kingdom had been the westernmost tip of the empire, but over the years the Morrow’s holding had shifted, merged, split, and been traded a dozen different ways between the other families and the crown itself.

The outer edges of the estate were left wild for hunting. With only a few trails kept clear by the family’s huntsmaster and his men. After they passed through it, there was a brief gap of clear grass before they reached the gardens. They spanned a massive area, and he took in the hedges, topiary, and fields of flowers as they moved through them. Finally they reached the main lead up to the estate. It was closed behind a massive iron gate with bars forged to look like the tangled antlers of a dozen great stags.

The gate opened with a groan and Duncan took them the rest of the way up to the main house. The manor itself was massive, easily ten times the size of his own, and that wasn’t including the smaller manors on other parts of the property. With all the servants that were required to maintain everything and care for them, the estate was basically a small town. A small town that’s entire purpose was serving the whims of less than a dozen people.

The carriage pulled up to the main gate and Melissa opened the door for him. She’d made the wise decision to ride on the outside of the carriage for the last leg of their journey.

Solomon stepped out and looked up at the entrance to the manor.

Chorde was standing at the top of it, his heavy brow furrowed and steely eyes staring at him. His blonde hair was combed back without a single hair out of place.

Next to him was Bernice, still wearing the mourning black for their father, her auburn hair hidden beneath her widow’s cap. In spite of her dour dress she was smiling at him, and even with Chorde’s dour expression he couldn’t help, but smile back at her as he ascended the stairs.

“Duke Morrow,” he said as he reached the top steps, bowing.

“Solomon. Welcome back to the estate,” replied Chorde with a nod to acknowledge his bow.

“I thank you for welcoming me personally.”

He nodded.

Solomon knew it was only protocol, but so was him thanking Chorde for it.

“Jude and Mother were unable to be here to welcome you, but they will be joining us all for dinner this evening.” He gestured to Edmure, Solomon’s former valet. “He will escort you to a guest suite. It should be familiar to you.”

Solomon nodded, acknowledging Edmure. He knew where to go, of course, the guest suite had been his personal rooms before he’d moved to Moonfallow.

With that, Chorde gave one more nod before heading back into the manor.

When he left Solomon approached Bernice who held out her hands. He grasped them and gave them a good squeeze.

“It’s good to see you again, sister.”

“And you. I had worried you’d become embroiled in some other life and death scenario before you made it here.”

“No, no. I’m saving that for when I’m visiting with Vaughn on the front.”

She laughed.

“Once your things are settled, please come to my rooms for some tea.”

“Of course,” he said.

They released one another’s hands and walked into the manor.

Edmure, who had been waiting stoically when Chorde was there, was now smiling as he bowed to Solomon.

“Welcome back, sir.”