- III -

Kirin hadn’t been sure what to expect from dinner with Lord Lawrence. He had a vision of a dark, cavernous room with a long, desolate table too grand to talk at, and glittering candlesticks, and whole pigs on platters that could hold more food than he’d seen in years. Something like he’d read about in books when he was a child.

The room Herbert led them to was remarkably comfortable, with a short, intimate table set for three, and warm lighting. This was like the kind of dining room he remembered from business dinners when his father was living.  Somehow that made him even more nervous than sitting at a table too grand for him. 

The Mairch was waiting for them. He stood by a window, looking out over the darkened landscape with a hand tucked in the small of his back. He turned and glanced at the door as it opened, and offered a half-bow as Kirin and his mother entered. 

“Mr. Hare, Madam Indrathail, I’m pleased you can join me this evening.” 

Kirin remembered to bow without being prompted this time, and his mother offered a low, graceful, pained curtsey.

“Lord Dulaith,” His mother said, rising, “Thank you for the generosity you’ve shown my family today. We’re very grateful for your hospitality. I hope we haven’t caused you any trouble.” 

He smiled at her. Kirin couldn’t have imagined a warm smile on his face a moment before, but somehow it didn’t seem out of place. “Please Madam, it’s no trouble at all. I hope I’ve not troubled you; the doctor mentioned you were suffering from malaise at the moment. I hope you’ll let me know if you need any accommodation. Please, would you be seated?” 

And so they were seated. A few servers set bowls of butternut and parsnip soup before them all. The Mairch murmured a word of thanks and laid his napkin across his lap, and then turned his attention to Kirin. “Mr. Hare, thank you for joining me this evening. You’re looking much recovered from this afternoon.” 

“I feel much better.” Kirin said, “Thank you for your hospitality.” 

“It’s nothing. In fact I’m very pleased that you’d join me. I mentioned earlier that I had an idea for an employment opportunity which I am confident will suit you better than your current occupation, and as a bonus it would be most useful to me.”

Kirin nodded, too nervous to eat. 

“However, as a first order of business, I feel some apologies should be made.” Lord Lawrence said, stirring his soup with a spoon, “Lord Hawtrey made quite a show earlier. I imagine it was needlessly embarrassing and distressing for you. Also Sir Herbert was far less than genteel in his introduction of my staff and family. If you would, please accept my sincerest apologies.” The Mairch said, as if Herbert wasn’t standing by the wall. 

Herbert didn’t look bothered, but Kirin still swallowed nervously.

“The first fellow wasn’t so bad, and I’m... not entirely sure what you mean regarding Sir Herbert…?” Kirin said, with a weaker voice than he would have liked, keeping his eyes on Lord Lawrence. He saw Herbert smirk in his periphery.

Lawrence smiled politely, and he glanced at Herbert briefly before continuing, “Mr. Hare, I’ve spoken with Herbert. He told me he threatened your life on at least two different occasions.” 

“I said ‘two or three’, Milord, and it was probably more in the neighborhood of five given the distance we traveled.” 

Lawrence nodded to Herbert and looked back at Kirin, “And I believe he kidnapped you off the street.”

“And I threw him into a wall before that.” Herbert said good-naturedly.

Kirin glanced at his mother nervously. He’d spared her the details of having been roughed up, thrown into a wall, and kidnapped under threat of death. He’d tried to imply that he went with Herbert willingly. She was staring at him with an expression of shock that she didn’t even try to hide.

The Mairch nodded, with a thin smile cast to Herbert, as if this wasn’t something unexpected from him. 

Herbert shrugged at all the eyes on him, “What? I’m a rough fellow, but I’m not a liar.” 

The Mairch turned his attention back to Kirin and his mother, “What I mean to say is that Herbert is a good man, but he’s a blunt instrument at the best of times, and I would like to sincerely apologize for the distress and injury he caused this afternoon. I hope you’ll allow me to make amends?” 

Kirin stuttered for a moment, and his mother rescued him with a cough to clear her throat, “Your Grace, we are already so deeply in your debt we can hardly dream of paying you back.”

Lawrence shook his head and raised a hand, and spoke an elven proverb, “A bird owes the sky nothing to fly.” 

His mother smiled and bowed her head in thanks.

“And on that note, and continuing to the purpose of our meeting: Mr. Hare,” Lawrence said, “It’s surely no surprise to you by now that you share a striking resemblance to my brother’s son, Rixian Falquinor Dulaith.”

“That’s what I’ve been told...” Kirin admitted.

“I think you may agree. If I may direct your attention to the portrait over the door,” The Lord said, gesturing in that direction.

There was a large portrait that Kirin had missed in his sweep of the room. There were two people in the painting; one was a pretty half-elven girl. She had long bright crimson hair framing her shoulders in lazy curls, and blue eyes, and a distant expression, but she wasn’t where Kirin’s eyes lingered. 

It was him. It was like looking in a mirror. Or it would be if Kirin had a blue damask coat when he was — maybe fifteen? He blinked at the portrait for several seconds, scouring the image to find faint differences here or there. They had the same green eyes, the same long, wavy red hair, the same nose, the same browline, the same face-shape. His jaw was just a little sharper, his hair maybe just a shade darker, and his skin was perhaps a shade lighter, but otherwise it was haunting to see. 

Kirin’s mother drew a breath when she saw the portrait, and looked between Kirin and the painting several times. “My Lord, this is your nephew?” 

“Yes. And his sister, my niece, Airysthalin.” Lawrence said, “The portrait is a few years old: My nephew and niece are almost eighteen now. I believe they were fourteen or fifteen when this portrait was painted. But you see the resemblance.” 

Kirin nodded, and then looked back at the Lord, “Madam Fryth said he is away from the family holdings?”

Lawrence dipped a piece of bread in his soup. “He is. There was an attempt made against his life early last year, and in the aftermath he decided to leave Glessanmore for a time to find his own way.” 

Kirin’s mother’s heart dipped, “I hope he wasn’t injured…?” 

Sir Herbert looked into the corner, perhaps averting his eyes from the table. 

“Unfortunately he was. Very badly injured, in fact, and almost killed.” Lawrence said, “There was a long, dark hour in which I thought he was dead before his physician or the Phaeldasir somehow coaxed some life back into him.”

“Phasaria be with him.” His mother said, “How fortunate that he lived!”

“I have a lighthearted theory that he’s too stubborn to die, but in truth he’s always been a remarkably resilient young man.” Lawrence responded. 

He smiled a little, thinking of something. “Rixian is a good young man. He’s bright, he’s talented, he’s stubborn as a stiff north wind, and he has a keen mind for plots and schemes. I honestly wasn’t terribly surprised when Herbert reported that he was gone, and handed me the letter saying he was leaving of his own accord to strike out on his own. Worried, as any guardian would be, but not surprised.” 

“He ran away?” Kirin asked.

Lawrence nodded, “You must understand, my nephew has had a hard life. After the event last year he made it clear he wanted to try his luck on his own. And though I can’t say I fully support his decision, I must admit that he is mostly safe and happy where he has planted himself, and I cannot settle my conscience with the idea of bringing him back to Glessanmore against his wishes.”

Kirin nodded, extrapolating the implications, “...But people are beginning to wonder where he is?” 

Lawrence smiled and tapped his nose, “There are many rumors floating around, some more innocent than others. The most common, which I have not corrected, is that my nephew is suffering a long relapse of malaise related to the attack last year and has been removed to my manor in Dunsheiling where the air is dryer to help him recover. There are more treacherous ones that state that he is dead and I am covering it up. And the most dangerous; There are people who have guessed that he left Glessanmore and is alone, without protection or any resources.” 

Kirin’s mother put her spoon down, “And if anyone were to find out he is alone, he’d be in danger.” 

“Exactly.” Lawrence said. “While my nephew is away he is vulnerable to all manner of ills. He’s going by a different name, and so far he’s surrounded himself with individuals who seem honest enough, but if someone were to suspect that he is my nephew, his life would once again be in danger.” The Lord put his spoon down, “And that, Mr. Hare, is where your services may come in handy.” 

Kirin nodded, “If I’m here, then everyone will think Rixian is here, he’ll be safer wherever he’s at.” 

“I’m pleased that you’re following.” Lawrence said, “There’s a little more to it than that though. He is my heir. He has responsibilities to the political and social spheres which have been going unattended since he left. I have assigned trustworthy stewards to the County he’s meant to oversee, and I have come up with answers for people asking why he hasn’t been appearing for public holidays and events, but I don’t know how long I can protect his image before the greater peerage. The loss of their goodwill would be disastrous not only for my nephew, but also for Eldefrey. Both of my children died before their time. I dearly do not want my nephew to suffer the same fate because some peer or other had no faith in his leadership ability and would rather have their heir at the helm of the region.” 

Kirin nodded. “What kinds of political and social responsibilities?”

“If I’m honest, it’s mostly the public celebrations that worry me most; New Years, Ring Day, the annual Fleet Banquet, Lithian’s Moon, Alfreth’s day, the Harvest Ball. Then there are a dozen or so events a year like ship christenings, dedications, guild meetings, etc. that he’d be expected to take an interest in. They’re not complicated events: You could get through them without lifting a finger, and that is wind in the sails to the rumors about my nephew. People are beginning to feel his absence, and I will not be able to protect his image forever. But you, Mr. Hare, have an uncanny resemblance to my nephew, and as I understand, you have the added blessing of being an actor.”

Kirin nodded, “Then the job you’re offering me is to play the part of your nephew at these events?” 

“I would be offering you a job playing the part of my nephew every moment you are in Glessanmore until either my nephew comes home, or until his status as my heir changes.” Lawrence said.

“Every moment?” Kirin asked.

“Every moment.” Lawrence nodded, “Even when you’re sleeping. You would act as him, speak as him, answer to his name, and face any dangers that he would face as a consequence of his birth. The only people on my staff who would know you are not my nephew would be my closest staff members; Madam Fryth, Sir Herbert, Sir Rhys, Dr. Olastril, Mr. Dair O'Phelan, and one or two others as necessity dictates.” 

“But wouldn’t the staff realise I’m not your nephew?” Kirin asked, “We look very similar, but surely we’re not identical.”

“Rixian lived most of the year in Dunsheiling at my mountain manor for the sake of his health. — If you choose to take this opportunity, you also will be living in Dunsheiling when you’re not needed here. — But when Rixian was here in Glessankeep he maintained his own staff. They were in flux when he left, and the only one who is still on staff is Sir Herbert.”

Kirin turned a little, “You were on Rixian’s staff?” 

“I was somewhere between security and valet.” Herbert said. “The rest of the staff didn’t interact with him much.”

“But the staff at Dunsheiling would know,” Kirin said.

“That would be acceptable.” Lawrence responded, “You will need a place where you can function as yourself so you don’t burn out or go mad.”

“And we’ll both live in Dunsheiling when I’m not needed here?” Kirin asked, gesturing to his mother.

“That is correct. The manor at Dunsheiling would be your primary residence, and I will supply you everything you need; a private suite of rooms to call your own, staff members to assist you with your daily needs, food, medicine, clothing, security, and money you can spend as you desire.”

“And how long would this go on?” Kirin asked.

“Until my nephew returns to the fold, or until his status as my heir changes. Should either of those occur, or if I should find that I no longer require your services, we will discuss other means of employment either within my staff in another position, or elsewhere. I will be sure you’re set up in a safe location with enough money to live comfortably.” 

“This is all extremely generous milord,” Kirin’s mother said, “And we are very grateful to be considered, but I don’t understand how the work is equal to the compensation?”

Lawrence smiled at her kindly, “My nephew is the heir to the merchant fleet, and the region of Eldefrey. By virtue of his birth he faces certain dangers. I’ve mentioned that he was nearly murdered last year. If your son takes this position, he will, in essence, become my nephew. I promise you I will take care of you both and you will live in ease. I promise you will both have the best security that money can buy. I promise you that your son will face Register assassins within a year. If he takes this offer, he will be standing into danger.”

Kirin’s mother looked over her plate to him, as if she could shield him with nothing but her will. “And if he should find this doesn’t suit him, how would he step down?” She asked, a new edge to her voice.

“Mother,” Kirin said under his breath.

Lawrence raised a hand “That’s a reasonable question, and one we should discuss. I would prefer there be a contracted period of a year, and I propose that at the end of that time you may choose to remain or go your way.” he said, “There will be plenty you will need to learn. Things such as how to identify and address members of various ranks, and who the major families in Ethelfell are, the basics of how the household runs, etc. etc. It may be overwhelming at first, but I believe with a little practice you’ll be fine.” 

Kirin nodded, “I’m not worried about it; I once memorized the entire script for Talav-Moran’dan in a week.” 

Lawrence looked thoughtful, “Talav-Moran’dan is in Lochlain,” 

“I speak Scalich, Lochlain, and Olirian.” Kirin responded.

Lawrence actually smiled, “Excellent. Most political jargon is done in Lochlain. That’ll save you a lot of time studying.” 

“A year seems like a long period of time considering the danger.” His mother said.

“But I assume I’ll have security?” Kirin asked.

Lawrence nodded, “Sir Herbert was my nephew’s main security, and he’ll become your best friend if you take this position. He will never be far. Additionally, you’d also have the rest of my family guard, my lookouts, my wards, special training to recognise assassins or songbirds, and every wise precaution.”

“Kirin, Darling,” his mother said, eyes pleading with him. 

Kirin smiled ruefully at her, “Mother, I don’t want to be indelicate, but it sounds to me like I’ll be safer here with assassins trying to kill me than I was earlier today selling myself to sailors with a rope fetish.”

He felt the words wash over her. It was a tide of pain and shame and helplessness, a crush of anger and fear. 

Kirin offered her a smile he hoped was encouraging, “I’ll be fine.” 

His mother turned her attention back to the Mairch without a word to him, “And what of romantic interests? Will he be allowed to marry while he’s employed in this way?” 

“Mother,” Kirin said with a sigh. 

“Another wise question,” Lawrence said to Kirin, “And the answer is I would prefer not, but discretion is the better part of valor and I’d rather you take a spouse and keep them in Dunsheiling than be running around making my nephew bastards.” Here he looked hard at Kirin, “And on that note we shall have an understanding: You won’t make my nephew any bastards, and I won’t give you away into a miserable political marriage on his behalf.” Here he smiled pleasantly, but it made Kirin immediately nervous.

Kirin nodded emphatically, “That seems perfectly fair.” 

“You should also be forewarned; there are all manner of rules and faux pas related to sexuality within the peerage that don’t occur in the common sphere, and depending on your orientation may make your job in that regard significantly harder.” 

“I’ve basically been a sex worker for two years, I doubt I’ll be shocked.” Kirin said.

“It’s a well known fact that the quickest way to a title is to end up pregnant. For you, that is going to look like a lot of peerage ladies, countesses, and baronesses aggressively flirting and trying to get you drunk so you’ll sleep with them. And if I’m honest, that is the main reason Sir Herbert has remained on Rixian’s staff as long as he has.” 

“I’m a hammer.” Herbert admitted jovially.

“The ladies at the parties will most likely be your biggest problem, but that will be its own training session.” Lawrence said.

“I’m pretty sure I can avoid accidentally falling in bed with some random woman at a party.” Kirin said. 

“Excellent. I would appreciate your discretion.” Lawrence said, “And lastly, you should know that you are free to go your way. Whether or not you decide this job opportunity is something you want, you look too much like my nephew to allow you to remain living in squalor on the tower docks. I will pay to relocate you both somewhere else in Kingscythe, outside of Ethelfell, and ensure you have enough money to tide you over as you look for gainful employment. However, I cannot ensure that you will be safe from others who mistake you for my nephew if you’re outside my household, so you will have to be very careful who you choose to trust.” 

“I’m going to take it,” Kirin said, as if it was a foregone conclusion. 

“Shouldn’t you think about this more?” His mother asked.

“Your mother is correct. I’m not asking for an answer this moment or even this evening—”

“Your Grace, I want to do this.” He said simply, “I know I can act. I know I can memorize things. We’ll be safer. It’s good work, it’s noble work, it’s honest work, Mother,” Kirin appealed to her, “I can help the Mairch's nephew be safer, and he can help us be safer. I want to do this.” 

“Even with Sir Herbert? Who threatened your life?” Kirin’s mother asked.

Lawrence nodded, “Sir Herbert is Rixian’s valet. He will be by your side almost every moment. You didn’t have a good first impression of him. Are you still interested?”

Kirin looked back over at Lawrence, “As long as he doesn’t touch me, I’m fine.” he said coolly.

Herbert scoffed a laugh, “He sounds like Rixian already.”

“Very well.” the Mairch took a paper and laid it on the table, “This is a contract. It details your compensation and the conditions that you would have to meet to keep this position. It is subject to change as I feel is necessary, but I will allow negotiation.”

Kirin looked over the document, reading carefully the print, the conditions, the clauses, and then he passed it to his mother.

She looked over it briefly, and her heart sank and sank and sank. Finally she raised her eyes towards him. “Is this really what you want, beloved?” she asked in Olirian.

“Yes.” Kirin responded.

She sat with the paper for another long moment, and then she sighed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to give you anything you’ve wanted…” She nodded and passed the paper back to him, “If you want this, then take it.”

Kirin grinned. “I love you, mother.” 

She smiled tearfully, “I love you, my beautiful son.”

Kirin looked back across the table to the Lord, who was waiting patiently. “Do you have a pen?”

“I’m your uncle: Herbert is your attendant. Ask him.” 

“Sir Herbert, do you have a pen?” Kirin asked.

“If you’re Rixian, it’s just Herbert.” Herbert said, and passed him a pen.

Kirin took it and signed his name at the bottom of the document. He took it to pass across the table, and Herbert intercepted it and offered it to the Mairch, who took it with a smile. 

“Alright then, nephew. Welcome home. Shall we discuss where you’ve been for the last year?”