Page 68 of Fate

He underlined the name twice, then moved to another.

“He would be preferable. But he has a son that is nearly a mancer in his own right. I doubt he would think favourably of beginning again.”

“Hardly the beginning,” Mama interjected. “Surely the apprenticeship under your father would count for much.”

Lucian glanced up, eyeing her mother steadily. “That depends on the master. And how much they wish their apprentice to be shaped into their own view of the law itself.”

A lump settled in Firen’s throat, not only because of the subject, but because of how far removed she was from it.

Which was a silly complaint. There was none better for advice than her mother, and she was happy to share her with Lucian.

She simply wanted to be included in that sharing. To know what they’d concocted while she’d been blissfully sleeping the morning away in the loft. “Mama, what is all this?” She did her best to make it sound like a simple enquiry, but she’d always been rather poor at keeping her emotions out of her expressions.

Mama stopped looking at the paper Lucian pushed toward her, eyeing Firen carefully. “Your mate’s trade is in the law. If his father will not continue his education, and subsequently, supply him the position that will see there is food for my daughter and presumably her future children, then I am helping him to consider his other options.”

Firen’s throat ached.

She took a sip of her tea and relaxed her shoulders.

This was a good thing.

What she’d hoped for.

She did not need to be jealous of her own mother and the ease with which they seemed to talk with one another.

Mama pulled out a sheet of paper and another pen from the slim case Da had made for her. The ink bottle was charcoal rather than the deep black Lucian used, but it was one of her favourites.

But rather than start sorting out her thoughts directly, she passed it all to Firen. “All right, dearest. Start making a list beneath each name in order of priority. And most especially, who would be most open to the arrangement. Then we’ll start on the contingencies.”

Firen beamed at her, feeling like the girl she had been when awarded with averyimportant task. Mama rose, taking her cup with her. She’d fill the kettle again. Tea made hard work easier. No problem was too large that could not be riddled out with a full stomach and ample paper for note taking.

But before she did any of that, Mama came over and patted Firen’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly as she passed. “You’ll be all right,” she murmured, and it felt far less a lie when it came from her.

???

They planned so long that Firen had to fix a lunch for them.

It also felt less like plan-making and more like plotting.

Most especially when Lucian started making amendments that included things like particularpersuasions.Such as known shop-debts. Or proclivities of unmated offspring that included visits to less than reputable areas, and wouldn’t that be a shame if that became common knowledge, most especially when it came time for their mating?

Firen frowned at that, not because she was so naïve as to think that such dalliances did not happen, but because she would rather believe someone would want to help because they wanted to, not because they were under some sort of duress.

And then there was the other part. The one she was not the least bit proud of, that... wondered.

Not if he’d actually indulged in... some sort of... assignation. He’d said he’d waited for her, hadn’t he? She thought he had. Or maybe she’d been the one to make that assurance, even when he’d not asked it of her. But this was a different sort of life, one she knew little about. Where you dined in a special place in a secret room. Where your goods were bought at a shop that was available on more than just market days.

“What would someone write about you?” she asked instead, her finger moving just a bit over damp ink, and Lucian pushed it away with a scowl as the edge of one letter smudged. Her chest tightened when he did not answer right away, and she supposed that was response enough. “Oh.”

Lucian glanced at her, then over her shoulder where her mother was attending to the dishes. “It does not make them right,” Lucian reminded her. “And if the most sordid part of me is that my wife came from the fourth district, I think I can endure.”

She smiled, but it was thin, watery thing.

Firen did not know if her mother counted as company, but she wrapped her arm about his and put her head against his shoulder. She wanted to say she was sorry, but she wasn’t. Not about her family. Not about her neighbours. She’d be held against him, and it would make things harder for him, but if he would not regret it, regrether, then she would not do it for him.

Mama left out the back door, with two cups of tea in her hands. She’d be a while, then. Would likely sit across from Da and make him break and rest his shoulders after hunching all morning.

“Did she pounce on you?” Firen asked as soon as the door was firmly shut and she was certain Mama was a few steps away from it.

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