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The day after the annual Winter’s Crest Festival was a relaxed affair. In earlier times Whitestone had given the castle servants leave to lollygag the way the ruling family did after the holiday. Once Vox Machina freed the barony from the grip of the Briarwoods, the de Rolos in residence continued the tradition.
So, as long as the rooms remained warm and the tea hot, the staff were free to nap, nurse hangovers, and nibble on the leftovers at their leisure. Eventually the dishes would be cleared, floors mopped, table linens laundered, pressed, and returned to cedar chests. The family was in no hurry to pack away the decorations.
This particular year, like many others, the baron and baroness spent the morning in the library after a lazy brunch. Their eldest daughter had gathered all the gifts offered to the hosts by friends, residents, and guests attending yesterday’s event. The pile of boxes and hampers in the middle of the floor stood only a foot shorter than she did. Vesper had installed herself in a seat at the long table, jotting notes in a ledger while her mother unwrapped presents.
“This is from Mr. and Mrs. Baker, three loaves of sourdough bread, with that lovely golden crust I like so much,” Vex said. “Ooh, and a crock of spicy butter.”
“Bakers: Bread, butter, personal note,” Vesper muttered. She took the basket from her mother and slid it across the table into the growing stack of opened gifts.
“This is addressed to your father from…Percy, do you recognize the name? I can’t make it out.”
She passed the card to her husband, who peered at it, then flipped down the magnifying lens on his spectacles. “The handwriting is terrible,” Percy said, “but the crest is from the shop that supplies the brass gears I use. What did they send?”
“A silver ingot.” Vex handed him a slim block of metal.
Percy examined the marks on the front and back of the tiny slab, weighed it on the flat of his palm. “No, it’s probably a nickel alloy. The owner had mentioned branching out into new metals, and silver is too soft for industrial use.”
“So a personal note, Dad?” Vesper asked.
“It’s just a business relationship, so a standard thank-you card will do.”
Vex had already begun searching through the fancy bow on a flat chest of polished wood. “This one is from Lord and Lady Ventral. They certainly put a lot into the presentation. The card is engraved, and I believe these ribbons are silk.”
“Is that spelled with an E-L or an L-E?” Vesper asked, fountain pen poised.
“The tag says T-R-A-L.”
Percy rose from his wing chair to pull a large, leather-bound book from one of the floor-to-ceiling shelves. He flipped through the index while his wife struggled with elaborate knots. “They’re not listed among the latest additions to the peerage for Tal’Dorei. Would you like a knife, dear?”
“No, I’m still the daughter of a seamstress, I’m not about to slice perfectly good silk. Try the register for Wildemount. I’m thinking the name could be Dwendalian.”
Vex managed to slide the ribbons off in one piece. The box had hinges on the back and a lock on the front so brilliantly polished that the fittings shone gold. She flipped up the lid; the interior was lined in royal blue velvet, stamped with the same family crest as on the tag. She folded back layers of gold tissue paper. Beneath lay a table service for six of delicately crafted silverware in a blue velvet tray. Between the back of the tray and the box a letter with a wax seal had been tucked. “I’ll take that knife now, darling,” she said.
Percy pulled a pen knife from a pocket in his dressing gown and handed it to his wife without looking up from a second book. “They are from Wildemount,” he said. “The Ventrals built their fortune on motorized excavation equipment that incorporates magic, used in the expansion of their empire. Strange, I don’t recall meeting any Dwendalians yesterday.”
“You spent most of the day keeping the twins out of trouble.” Vex cut through the seal without damaging the paper, a skill honed during her many years as the barony’s ambassador. The stationery was the heavy, bleached kind used by ruling houses when issuing proclamations; the ink was that particular shade of blue-black which could be crafted only by hand. “Whoever they may be, they are determined to make an impression.”
Vesper came over to examine the cutlery while her mother read the letter.
“Unto Baron Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III and Baroness Vex’ahlia Vessar de Rolo does the Lord Ralph Augustus Nikolai Ventral and Lady Gretchen Magnolia Ermingarde Ventral send greetings!”
“Magnolia?” Vesper raised an eyebrow.
“Hail and well met upon Tal’Dorei’s most glorious celebration of Winter’s Crest! We hope to find you in good health and prosperity for the coming season. Please accept this small token of our cousinship in nobility across Exandria. This tableware set was forged by the finest dwarven silversmiths in Wildemount. Every piece has been enchanted by the great elven sorcerers who fled Molaesmyr to repel stains and crumbs from any kind of food. Nothing less than an object of such beauty and power is fit to grace the dining table of your manor and ours.”
Percy snorted. Vesper dipped one of the spoons into the dregs of her mug. Thin chocolate coated the lower third of the utensil, then slowly began to vanish.
“We hope that our houses may grow ever closer in affections, as is proper for noblemen of industry and influence. To that end we have sent our beloved son Nikolai Bertrand Augustus to visit the renowned city of Whitestone for your inspection and approval in hopes that our families may be joined in the future. We await your assessment of his character with great anticipation.”
By the time Vex finished reading out loud, the spoon looked sparkling clean.
“That’s a pricey way to clean silverware,” Vesper said. Suddenly her eyes widened and she whipped around to face her parents. “Wait—joining our families? Does that mean what I think it means?!”
“I’m afraid it does, darling,” Vex said as she folded the letter.
“I’ve barely turned thirteen! What were they thinking?!”
Percy snapped shut the peerage registry. “They’re thinking that the quickest way to a de Rolo’s heart is through our treasury.”
“I will NOT be a commodity on the marriage market!”
Just then the double doors to the library burst open. A three-year-old boy with clumps of snow in his dark hair ran crying into the room, followed by Cassandra in full winter wear. Trinket brought up the rear, a three-year-old girl dangling by the back of her coat in his mouth. She was laughing to the point of hiccups.
“Oh, what’s the matter, Wolfie?” Vex said, arms outstretched. “Come here, let Mummy see. Did you take a tumble into a snowbank?”
Cass began taking off her warm wrappings. “I was trying to burn off some of their energy. We had shaped a stack of snowballs when Leona started lobbing them at Wolfe. Instead of throwing them back he packed the ammunition into the fort he was building. She got mad and pushed his face into the snow.”
Percy rolled his eyes and sighed. “Come here, you little hellion.” He slapped his knee, and Trinket padded over to his chair. The grizzly dropped the toddler in her father’s lap with a snort, then stomped over to the fireplace, his childcare duties discharged. Percy began wrestling his daughter out of her snow boots.
Her twin brother curled into his mother’s lap, sniffling as Vex picked snow out of his ears and collar. “Would some hot chocolate warm you up? Deep breaths, darling. Vesper, no one is going up for sale on any market, least of all you.”
Cass lifted the lids on the two porcelain carafes waiting on the end table. “What was all the yelling about? There’s only a dribble of cocoa left, so it’s likely cold. The coffee’s run dry, too.” She moved to the wall to press a button.
Percy said, “One of yesterday’s gifts is meant to court favor for marriage prospects.”
“Oh, has that nonsense begun already? From Vesper’s voice I thought one of the gifts had exploded.”
A young half-elven man wearing the livery of Whitestone entered. Cass said, “Good morning, Joseph. We’ll need a refresher of hot chocolate and coffee, with cups for the little ones, please. And some of that dark fruitcake, if there’s any left.” Joseph bowed slightly and vanished.
Vex held out the letter to Cass, who began reading with great interest.
Vesper glowered at the world with eyes that had darkened in fury. “Auntie Pike prayed over all the presents before we brought them out of the reception hall. None of them showed any ill intent or poison. I should have had her protect me against pushy engagements!”
“There’s no prayer for that, I’m afraid,” her mother said.
“I’m so sorry, Vesper,” Cassandra said. “I was hoping you’d have at least one more year before you had to deal with this, like I did. If it’s any comfort, your grandparents received betrothal offers for Aunt Vesper and Uncle Julius when they were still babies.”
Vesper threw an alarmed look to her father. “Tell me she’s joking!”
“I’m afraid not,” Percy said. “Even I received a couple of offers at your age. Mother turned them down, of course.”
“Count yourself lucky, dear,” her mother said. “While Tal’Dorei had an emperor, Saldana’s children would have been betrothed as soon as her pregnancies were announced.” A shadow of sadness passed over her face. “Those contracts went up in flames when the dragons destroyed Emon.”
Percy gave up trying to corral his youngest daughter. He did manage to strip off her coat as Leona jumped off his lap to dash under the table.
”So who is this Nikolai Bertrand Augustus Ventral?” Cass kept flipping between the pages of the letter.
“I think he may have introduced himself last night.” Vex rubbed her little boy’s back as he snuggled against her neck. “Thin, dark blond, maybe a touch of gnome in the bloodline a few generations back. A couple of years older than Vesper. Stuttered a bit as he spoke a very formal greeting that had clearly been rehearsed. I got the feeling he did not care for parties at all.”
“Oh, that boy!” The adults turned to Vesper. “I found him in here when I needed to catch my breath after the dancing. He was sitting on the floor between the book stacks, surrounded by engineering texts. He jumped up when he saw me and knocked over more books. He kept apologizing and stuttering, then apologizing for his stutter.”
“I hope you didn’t tease him for that,” Vex said.
“Mum! You know me better than that.”
“I would hope so.”
“What did you think of him?” Percy asked.
“I’d say he was pretty miserable. The only time he looked happy was when we talked about your inventions. He clearly admires you, Dad.” She shrugged. “Nice enough, I suppose, but not good at making friends. At least he never mentioned marriage.”
Cassandra said, “His parents clearly don’t know enough about courtly etiquette. They should not be addressing your parents with the familiar ‘you,’ especially before they’ve met in person, and your mother never uses your grandfather’s name. Their tone presumes that the Vantrals are social equals with us.”
“Their coat of arms uses different colors,” Vex said, “but they stamped their crest on Whitestone blue.”
“That’s even more presumptuous. Can’t say I blame you for being irritated.”
“Besides,” Percy sniffed, “they’re New Money.”
Vex said, “Darling, you can be such a snob.”
“Better a snob than social climbers bribing their way into the family.”
“That poor boy,” Cass said. “I’m certain his parents are forcing him into this wretched courtship dance.”
“Vesper, be that as it may,” Percy announced, “I have never strong-armed your Aunt Cassandra into marriage, and I shall not pressure you to marry. Or your sister or your brother, for that matter.”
Vesper’s face and shoulders relaxed. “Really, Dad? Mum?”
“Truly,” Vex said. “Your father and I married for love.”
Her aunt said, “So did your de Rolo grandparents.”
The Baron of the First House of Whitestone took both of his eldest daughter’s hands. “Even if we did need an alliance for economic or military safety, we would find a way around marrying off our children. You will never be owned by any spouse, dearest. I swear this on the graves of all our dearly departed.”
Vesper’s lip trembled. She threw her arms around her father and squeezed tight.
A crisp knock sounded on a library door, and Joseph entered with a large tray. He set a new coffee pot, chocolate pot, and teapot on an empty card table, then began unloading platters of sliced cake and other treats.
Vesper wiped her eyes. “So the Ventrals get a letter rejecting their gift and their marriage proposal. I’ll enjoy writing it.”
“Ah, no, darling, I’ll write that one,” Vex said quickly. “These matters must be handled delicately. They didn’t offer a genuine proposal, even if their introduction was so clumsy. Telling them off would only make enemies.”
“Besides,” Cas said, pouring a cup of coffee, “a scathing rejection will most likely crush that boy. We have no idea what his parents will do to him.”
“Cookies!” Leona scrambled from her hiding place under the large table and darted toward the refreshments.
“Leona, NO!” Percy’s command thundered across the room. The children froze. “Leona, come here. Now.”
The little girl fidgeted, looking nervous, but she walked over to her father’s chair.
“You hurt your brother,” Percy said, his expression stern. “You pushed his face into the snow when he did not want to throw snowballs.”
“We playing,” Leona said in a small voice.
Vex said in a firm tone, “You know Wolfie does not like to play rough. We have talked about this.” The little boy sat up in his mother’s lap to glare at his sister.
“Leona, what do we do when we hurt someone?” Percy said.
His youngest daughter hung her head and mumbled a few words.
“Don’t tell me, tell your brother.”
Leona scuffed her toes in the thick Marquessian carpet for a moment. She turned around and walked over to her mother’s knee.
“I sorry, Wolfie.” She tried to touch her brother’s foot. Wolfe jerked away his leg.
“And what else?” her mother said.
“An’ I won’t hurt again.”
“All right.” Vex patted the cushion beside her. Leona climbed up on the settee and sat close to her mother. She kept her hands clasped in her lap.
“You know she’ll only find a different way to pick on him,” Vesper muttered.
“Hush,” Cassandra said as she handed Vex a child’s cup of hot chocolate. “Cocoa all around?”
Joseph had moved to pick up the tray of empty beverage pots from the side table.
“Before you clear those,” Percy said to him, “there’s an item we’d like you to take to that storage closet under the stairs.”
Vex wadded the bow of silk ribbons into the silverware case, shut the lid, and pressed the latch on the lock. She placed the expensive box in the servant’s hands and said, “Please, dear. Hide it with all the rest of the inappropriate gifts we’ll never use.”
“Very good, Ma’am.”
Percy stood, stretched, and heaved a deep sigh. “I suppose I should let the Ventral boy know our decision so he’s not blindsided. Any idea where he’s staying?”
“You can probably find him at the construction site for the clock tower,” Vesper said, taking a fresh cup. “He went on and on about the fascinating gear works.”
“Don’t be mean, brother,” Cass said. “It’s not the boy’s fault that his parents are pushing for a match above their station. Besides, you were hopeless around girls when you were his age.”
Vex said “Invite him to tea, Percy. I’ll have the letter written by then, and we’ll give him a better story to tell his parents than some chance meeting in a dark library.”
“Right. I’m off. And I was not hopeless around girls.”
“Were too,” said Cass.
“Was not.”
“Were too.”
“I refuse to argue the point,” Percival declared as the women in his life laughed.
Vesper caught his hand as passed her on the way out. “Love you, Dad.”
The determined set of his mouth softened into a smile he gazed into the face of his first born. “I will always protect you, my angel. To my last breath and beyond.”