Page 21
Story: The Spy
“It means they’re doing something underhanded.Yes,” Braxton finished.“I’ve kept alert, but I’ve yet to uncover anything.”
That was likely all Braxton could say aloud since they were in his public office.His private one was much more secure and also hidden.Karl had only been there twice.Thankfully, Karl could read between the lines.Braxton had tasked his spies, had investigated, and then done whatever else a spymaster could do to obtain information, and had come up with nothing.
“I’ll keep a lookout too, and will let you know if I spot anything,” Karl said.
“I appreciate it,” Braxton replied, smiling at him.“Now go deal with that paperwork.”
Karl grimaced, glaring down at the mass of papers he needed two hands to hold properly.Somehow, from the moment he had stepped off the boat in Yari, all his plans for where he wanted to go in life were slowly getting derailed one by one.He walked into the hallway, closed the door behind him, and headed off in the general direction of the royal wing.The castle was busy as usual, servants and courtiers everywhere, and since these days everyone noticed him, Karl had to deal with their angry and envious stares as he made his way.
As Karl walked past one of the many entrances to the expansive gardens, Casmir’s voice made him pause.He turned to look out into the garden flush with buds just starting to open and show their vibrant blooms as spring finally began to take hold.Casmir was too far away to hear what he was actually saying, and outwardly he had a genial expression on his face, but something about the tilt to his lips and the sharpness in his eyes said he was annoyed and barely holding on to his temper.
“Cas!”Karl called out, waving over his head with one hand while hoping he was embarking on a rescue rather than getting in Casmir’s way.“Are you heading back now?I’ll walk with you.”
Casmir’s eyes softened as he waved back.He nodded politely to the group before walking over.
“Busy morning?”he asked Karl, eying Karl’s morass of papers.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Karl grumbled, pouting.Still, he sorted through his stack until he found the most damning piece of paper in the lot, then passed it over for Casmir to read.“It looks like your morning isn’t going much better though.”
“I’m just dealing with morons who think the fancy private education their parents paid for equates to real life experience,” Casmir responded, frowning as he read.One eyebrow lifted when he got to the line that made Karl grit his teeth.
The title, lands, and honors of the Barony of Whistfield are hereby and henceforth bestowed upon the rightful blooded heir, Lord Karlow Musen Whist, the Baron Whistfield.Karl’s stomach clenched just reading the words over Casmir’s shoulder.
“Your inheriting this is definitely good for Toval, you know.When you called out to me just now, I was attending a tea with a number of nobles’ sons and daughters, some of them heirs.I just had an absolutely riveting discussion about how to properly punish their servants because they served strawberry pie rather than the apple the noble brat demanded.”Sarcasm clung to every word Casmir said, like slime on a frog.
“It’s spring right now?”Karl asked, glancing out a nearby window that showed the same early buds on the trees outside.“Strawberries are in season.A bag of dried apple slices likely costs good gold this time of year.The cost of fresh apples to make a proper pie would be astronomical.”
“Hmm, yes,” Casmir replied, handing the paper back to Karl.“But they wanted apple; therefore, their servants needed to suffer.Horrendous.”
“If I were their parents, I would have rewarded those servants for not wasting good gold on such a frivolous request.”
Casmir laughed, his eyes bright with mirth as he looked at Karl.“You assume the apple didn’t fall from the same tree.Besides, any of the useful nobles who actually contribute to this kingdom are far too busy this time of day with actual work.You’ll be another noble doing work rather than playing, which will definitely help Toval.Only the useless fops fritter away their daytime hours on impractical tea parties.”
The way Casmir’s eyes glinted and the upward tilt to one side of his mouth was all Karl needed to read between the lines.Braxton had asked Casmir to befriend some of the fops, to be taken into their confidence and hopefully derail any foolishness they might start before it could escalate.Or, perhaps Casmir had taken on the task himself, knowing it would help Braxton.He might be a prince now, but he could still contribute as a spy too.
Casmir looked good.His hair was pulled back into a neat tail, showing off the emerald studs in his ears—newly pierced, Karl believed—which matched the deep green of his jacket and pants.Every inch of him looked like a prince.Part of this was Casmir’s acting ability, honed by his years as a spy, but the role of prince seemed to fit him, as if he had shed an outer shell to reveal his true self underneath.Compared to Casmir, Karl definitely didn’t look the part of a baron.He was wearing the usual brown pants allotted to any of the Royal Forces members for when they were off duty.As a concession to being in the palace, Karl had worn a blue shirt instead of the standard white, but the cut was the same simple and utilitarian one.He didn’t wear any jewelry, nor did he have the presence to stand tall and look the part.No, Karl looked exactly like what he was: a street waif turned kitchen servant carrying a fat stack of papers like he was hoping the words wouldn’t explode and try to eat him.
They finally reached the guards outside the royal wing and spent a few minutes saying hello, before heading for their rooms.
“What are you doing the rest of today?”Casmir asked as Karl stopped outside the door leading into Fen’s private set of rooms.
“Probably going through this paperwork and wishing I was anyone else’s bastard child.What about you?”
Casmir laughed.“Don’t we all wish that.You mind if I keep you company while you bitch over whatever additional nonsense is in those papers?I’ll call for tea.”
“You’re always welcome,” Karl replied easily, opening the door and waving for Casmir to precede him, hoping his joy at knowing Casmir wanted to spend more time with Karl wasn’t too obvious.
“Lovely.You can listen to me bitch about the other moronic things I had to listen to all morning, when you need a distraction,” Casmir added as he led the way inside and headed for the bellpull to call a servant for tea.
Karl settled on one of the couches and dumped his papers onto the coffee table there.Casmir finished speaking with the servant who had appeared at the door and sat across from Karl.
“Right then,” Karl began.He picked the first piece of paper off the stack and, with a grimace, got to work.
Chapter Thirteen
KARL LEFT THEpapers on the table in the sitting area when he went to bed that night, but despite closing his eyes and trying to breathe slowly, sleep didn’t come.He groaned and rolled over, rubbing his fingers on his forehead.With the curtains over the four-poster bed drawn, as well as the curtains over the window, he couldn’t tell what time it was.The castle was rarely quiet and dark.Parties went all night and the business of running a kingdom didn’t stop just because the sun had set.Shan was still in the kitchens, working the late shift to fulfill orders for whatever might come up this late.Still, the royal wing was as far from the bustle as it was possible to get and it was certainly quieter than the constant din of the military complex.Karl ought to be able to go to sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes the words on those damned papers floated into view, taunting him.Signing and sending off the handful of documents that confirmed his new status as Baron Whistfield was easy, almost anticlimactic, and yet the reality of it weighed on him.
That was likely all Braxton could say aloud since they were in his public office.His private one was much more secure and also hidden.Karl had only been there twice.Thankfully, Karl could read between the lines.Braxton had tasked his spies, had investigated, and then done whatever else a spymaster could do to obtain information, and had come up with nothing.
“I’ll keep a lookout too, and will let you know if I spot anything,” Karl said.
“I appreciate it,” Braxton replied, smiling at him.“Now go deal with that paperwork.”
Karl grimaced, glaring down at the mass of papers he needed two hands to hold properly.Somehow, from the moment he had stepped off the boat in Yari, all his plans for where he wanted to go in life were slowly getting derailed one by one.He walked into the hallway, closed the door behind him, and headed off in the general direction of the royal wing.The castle was busy as usual, servants and courtiers everywhere, and since these days everyone noticed him, Karl had to deal with their angry and envious stares as he made his way.
As Karl walked past one of the many entrances to the expansive gardens, Casmir’s voice made him pause.He turned to look out into the garden flush with buds just starting to open and show their vibrant blooms as spring finally began to take hold.Casmir was too far away to hear what he was actually saying, and outwardly he had a genial expression on his face, but something about the tilt to his lips and the sharpness in his eyes said he was annoyed and barely holding on to his temper.
“Cas!”Karl called out, waving over his head with one hand while hoping he was embarking on a rescue rather than getting in Casmir’s way.“Are you heading back now?I’ll walk with you.”
Casmir’s eyes softened as he waved back.He nodded politely to the group before walking over.
“Busy morning?”he asked Karl, eying Karl’s morass of papers.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Karl grumbled, pouting.Still, he sorted through his stack until he found the most damning piece of paper in the lot, then passed it over for Casmir to read.“It looks like your morning isn’t going much better though.”
“I’m just dealing with morons who think the fancy private education their parents paid for equates to real life experience,” Casmir responded, frowning as he read.One eyebrow lifted when he got to the line that made Karl grit his teeth.
The title, lands, and honors of the Barony of Whistfield are hereby and henceforth bestowed upon the rightful blooded heir, Lord Karlow Musen Whist, the Baron Whistfield.Karl’s stomach clenched just reading the words over Casmir’s shoulder.
“Your inheriting this is definitely good for Toval, you know.When you called out to me just now, I was attending a tea with a number of nobles’ sons and daughters, some of them heirs.I just had an absolutely riveting discussion about how to properly punish their servants because they served strawberry pie rather than the apple the noble brat demanded.”Sarcasm clung to every word Casmir said, like slime on a frog.
“It’s spring right now?”Karl asked, glancing out a nearby window that showed the same early buds on the trees outside.“Strawberries are in season.A bag of dried apple slices likely costs good gold this time of year.The cost of fresh apples to make a proper pie would be astronomical.”
“Hmm, yes,” Casmir replied, handing the paper back to Karl.“But they wanted apple; therefore, their servants needed to suffer.Horrendous.”
“If I were their parents, I would have rewarded those servants for not wasting good gold on such a frivolous request.”
Casmir laughed, his eyes bright with mirth as he looked at Karl.“You assume the apple didn’t fall from the same tree.Besides, any of the useful nobles who actually contribute to this kingdom are far too busy this time of day with actual work.You’ll be another noble doing work rather than playing, which will definitely help Toval.Only the useless fops fritter away their daytime hours on impractical tea parties.”
The way Casmir’s eyes glinted and the upward tilt to one side of his mouth was all Karl needed to read between the lines.Braxton had asked Casmir to befriend some of the fops, to be taken into their confidence and hopefully derail any foolishness they might start before it could escalate.Or, perhaps Casmir had taken on the task himself, knowing it would help Braxton.He might be a prince now, but he could still contribute as a spy too.
Casmir looked good.His hair was pulled back into a neat tail, showing off the emerald studs in his ears—newly pierced, Karl believed—which matched the deep green of his jacket and pants.Every inch of him looked like a prince.Part of this was Casmir’s acting ability, honed by his years as a spy, but the role of prince seemed to fit him, as if he had shed an outer shell to reveal his true self underneath.Compared to Casmir, Karl definitely didn’t look the part of a baron.He was wearing the usual brown pants allotted to any of the Royal Forces members for when they were off duty.As a concession to being in the palace, Karl had worn a blue shirt instead of the standard white, but the cut was the same simple and utilitarian one.He didn’t wear any jewelry, nor did he have the presence to stand tall and look the part.No, Karl looked exactly like what he was: a street waif turned kitchen servant carrying a fat stack of papers like he was hoping the words wouldn’t explode and try to eat him.
They finally reached the guards outside the royal wing and spent a few minutes saying hello, before heading for their rooms.
“What are you doing the rest of today?”Casmir asked as Karl stopped outside the door leading into Fen’s private set of rooms.
“Probably going through this paperwork and wishing I was anyone else’s bastard child.What about you?”
Casmir laughed.“Don’t we all wish that.You mind if I keep you company while you bitch over whatever additional nonsense is in those papers?I’ll call for tea.”
“You’re always welcome,” Karl replied easily, opening the door and waving for Casmir to precede him, hoping his joy at knowing Casmir wanted to spend more time with Karl wasn’t too obvious.
“Lovely.You can listen to me bitch about the other moronic things I had to listen to all morning, when you need a distraction,” Casmir added as he led the way inside and headed for the bellpull to call a servant for tea.
Karl settled on one of the couches and dumped his papers onto the coffee table there.Casmir finished speaking with the servant who had appeared at the door and sat across from Karl.
“Right then,” Karl began.He picked the first piece of paper off the stack and, with a grimace, got to work.
Chapter Thirteen
KARL LEFT THEpapers on the table in the sitting area when he went to bed that night, but despite closing his eyes and trying to breathe slowly, sleep didn’t come.He groaned and rolled over, rubbing his fingers on his forehead.With the curtains over the four-poster bed drawn, as well as the curtains over the window, he couldn’t tell what time it was.The castle was rarely quiet and dark.Parties went all night and the business of running a kingdom didn’t stop just because the sun had set.Shan was still in the kitchens, working the late shift to fulfill orders for whatever might come up this late.Still, the royal wing was as far from the bustle as it was possible to get and it was certainly quieter than the constant din of the military complex.Karl ought to be able to go to sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes the words on those damned papers floated into view, taunting him.Signing and sending off the handful of documents that confirmed his new status as Baron Whistfield was easy, almost anticlimactic, and yet the reality of it weighed on him.