wondering if I could get something to eat.” He looked between her and the cook.
“I’ll make you a sandwich,” the latter set down her ledger and moved about the room gathering ingredients.
“I can make it if you’re busy; I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said awkwardly, and Mrs. Trout pursed her lips at him in mild annoyance for offering to do servants’ work.
“It’s no trouble at all,” the cook continued working without looking up, and Hayden sighed and left her to it. With his sandwich in hand, Hayden pulled off a piece of ham for Bonk and slipped out of the kitchen, intending to eat in his room where he didn’t have to worry about dealing with others when he was mentally and physically exhausted.
Unfortunately, Magdalene Trout followed him out of the room and began assigning him more work.
“Edgar tells me that he’s left your next reading assignment in your room. Be sure to complete it tonight and take notes on what it means to you before your next meeting in the morning. He said you made fair progress today, but you’re going to need to really buckle down if you are serious about learning all of the necessary material in time.”
Hayden barely resisted the urge to tell her to shut up and leave him alone. His brain ached from studying ridiculously difficult concepts all day, and his entire body hurt from spending the last hour getting beaten by Lorn. All he wanted to do was rest.
What he said instead was, “Alright, I’ll do that.”
She glanced at him like she had a fair idea of what he was really thinking, but apparently as long as he minded his manners she didn’t feel the need to call him out for his thoughts.
“Did you enjoy your training session with Grendel?” she changed the subject abruptly, perhaps deciding to go easy on him at last.
“Yes, though I think I’ll enjoy it more when I get better at not getting beaten,” he admitted dryly. “Why are you having me trained up in combat, anyway? It’s not like that has anything to do with fulfilling your obligation to help me get my stuff back.”
Mrs. Trout raised an eyebrow at the question and said, “Oliver told me you could use the help. He said you were good with prisms, but otherwise dreadful at defending yourself.”
Hayden was surprised that Oliver had noticed his fighting habits, or cared enough to mention it to his mother, though he supposed it was probably pretty obvious when they were fighting in the Forest of Illusions earlier in the year and Hayden performed terribly at the hand-to-hand combat portion.
“Still, what does it matter to you if I’m a bad fighter?” he pressed, suddenly interested in the answer.
She looked down at him like he was being deliberately obtuse.
“You are in sole command of the Frost assets and name. By the time you reach adulthood, you will have a voice in the magical community that cannot be ignored, perhaps even before then if you continue to grow your reputation as you have so far. You will continue to forge alliances with other prominent mages, and your word will carry weight.”
Hayden made a face at this, surprised again by her candor.
“You mean I’ll have a say in matters, like how the Council of Mages is running things?”
“That is one example, yes. The Great Houses have always had a direct pipeline to the Council, and have lobbied for things they are adamant about.” She shrugged. “The Frosts have always been a highly-respected, powerful clan, and you are the sole surviving heir to it.”
Hayden thought about that for a moment and then asked, “Does that mean I technically outrank Oliver and Lorn right now in the magical community?”
“Yes,” she answered simply, “as long as I live, I am the official voice of my family. When I die, Oliver will step into my shoes. You are already the voice of the Frost family name, and will possess all the rights that that entails once you come of age.”
That was good to know, and Hayden filed the information away in
“I’ll make you a sandwich,” the latter set down her ledger and moved about the room gathering ingredients.
“I can make it if you’re busy; I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said awkwardly, and Mrs. Trout pursed her lips at him in mild annoyance for offering to do servants’ work.
“It’s no trouble at all,” the cook continued working without looking up, and Hayden sighed and left her to it. With his sandwich in hand, Hayden pulled off a piece of ham for Bonk and slipped out of the kitchen, intending to eat in his room where he didn’t have to worry about dealing with others when he was mentally and physically exhausted.
Unfortunately, Magdalene Trout followed him out of the room and began assigning him more work.
“Edgar tells me that he’s left your next reading assignment in your room. Be sure to complete it tonight and take notes on what it means to you before your next meeting in the morning. He said you made fair progress today, but you’re going to need to really buckle down if you are serious about learning all of the necessary material in time.”
Hayden barely resisted the urge to tell her to shut up and leave him alone. His brain ached from studying ridiculously difficult concepts all day, and his entire body hurt from spending the last hour getting beaten by Lorn. All he wanted to do was rest.
What he said instead was, “Alright, I’ll do that.”
She glanced at him like she had a fair idea of what he was really thinking, but apparently as long as he minded his manners she didn’t feel the need to call him out for his thoughts.
“Did you enjoy your training session with Grendel?” she changed the subject abruptly, perhaps deciding to go easy on him at last.
“Yes, though I think I’ll enjoy it more when I get better at not getting beaten,” he admitted dryly. “Why are you having me trained up in combat, anyway? It’s not like that has anything to do with fulfilling your obligation to help me get my stuff back.”
Mrs. Trout raised an eyebrow at the question and said, “Oliver told me you could use the help. He said you were good with prisms, but otherwise dreadful at defending yourself.”
Hayden was surprised that Oliver had noticed his fighting habits, or cared enough to mention it to his mother, though he supposed it was probably pretty obvious when they were fighting in the Forest of Illusions earlier in the year and Hayden performed terribly at the hand-to-hand combat portion.
“Still, what does it matter to you if I’m a bad fighter?” he pressed, suddenly interested in the answer.
She looked down at him like he was being deliberately obtuse.
“You are in sole command of the Frost assets and name. By the time you reach adulthood, you will have a voice in the magical community that cannot be ignored, perhaps even before then if you continue to grow your reputation as you have so far. You will continue to forge alliances with other prominent mages, and your word will carry weight.”
Hayden made a face at this, surprised again by her candor.
“You mean I’ll have a say in matters, like how the Council of Mages is running things?”
“That is one example, yes. The Great Houses have always had a direct pipeline to the Council, and have lobbied for things they are adamant about.” She shrugged. “The Frosts have always been a highly-respected, powerful clan, and you are the sole surviving heir to it.”
Hayden thought about that for a moment and then asked, “Does that mean I technically outrank Oliver and Lorn right now in the magical community?”
“Yes,” she answered simply, “as long as I live, I am the official voice of my family. When I die, Oliver will step into my shoes. You are already the voice of the Frost family name, and will possess all the rights that that entails once you come of age.”
That was good to know, and Hayden filed the information away in
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