"What about you, John?"
The eldest of the three brothers had already stated his position, so Robert turned to his youngest son.
John looked up at Jenkins, who stood a full head taller than him. He considered his own simple social circle at school, his limited knowledge and experience, and then the stories and legends his friends whispered about his older brother. Finally, he too shook his head.
Unlike Newman, who was already an adult, the youngest Williams's thoughts were far simpler:
"If I were a bit older, and had already graduated, I'm sure I'd accuse you of playing favorites, Father."
The youngest son told his father, shaking his head to make his stance clear.
Finally, Robert handed the two-thirds of the World Tree seed back to Jenkins:
"I've spoken with Pope Pontiff, and he ntioned your position on this. Jenkins, no matter what you choose to do, as long as it isn't evil, your mother and I will always support you."
Jenkins clutched the object in his hand, still unsure what to say.
"You grew up by our side. And while you've changed a great deal recently for reasons I don't understand, we know that at your core, you've always been a kind person. You might hate responsibility, you might crave power, but as long as you never forget what your mother and I have taught you since you were a child, you will always be yourself."
"I understand, Father."
Jenkins replied, never imagining that this conversation would prove to be the most difficult part of the evening.
"As for this," Jenkins began, "I'm not certain it's our family heirloom. I asked Her Majesty yesterday, and she didn't recognize it."
As he spoke, Jenkins lowered his head and tied the cord holding the two-thirds of the World Tree seed around his neck, careful to avoid his brothers' gazes.
"It is our family's heirloom, of that I'm certain. For the past six months, my mories from childhood have been growing clearer for so reason. I recently recalled your grandfather telling about it when I was a boy. This heirloom is ant for a Williams son who bears the na 'Redemptor.' That was a requirent from your great-grandfather—a requirent for his three sons—and it seems our family is the only one to have fulfilled it."
Miss Capet, of course, is female. Her middle na is Marianna, the na of the nun who found her swaddled on the church steps.
Robert clapped a hand on his son's shoulder:
"To this day, I still don't know why your great-grandfather insisted on giving that unusual na to the boys in the family, but I'm sure he had his reasons. Rember this, Jenkins: no matter what you beco, as long as you remain a good person, you will always make your mother and proud."
"...I understand."
"Good. You're a grown man with your own career now, so there's not much more advice I can offer. I'm going to take your brothers to see Her Majesty—she is our relative, after all. I hope you won't leave early. I noticed you brought guests to the banquet, and I would like to et them later."
Robert said, then led his other two sons away, following an attendant.
"You seem a bit down, Viscount Williatte. There shouldn't be anyone here more fortunate than you tonight."
Back with the ladies, Briny, who hadn't overheard his family's conversation, asked curiously.
"I was just talking with my father. I'm just feeling a bit... sentintal."
It was a difficult sentint to express in the common tongue, but Briny seed to understand what he ant:
"So, should we be calling you 'Prince Jenkins' from now on?"
She teased, and the other young won nearby who overheard her laughed.
Jenkins didn't bother asking if she and Hathaway already knew; it would have been pointless. He simply stood there and began to explain his connection to the Middleton family, pretending they were hearing it for the first ti.
Mid-explanation, Jenkins noticed Hathaway and Briny's expressions suddenly grow serious. A mont later, he heard Miss Windsor call out to soone behind him, her tone a subtle warning:
"Marquis Mikhail, Earl Hersha, good evening."
"Good evening, Miss Windsor. We were just speaking with the duke. He seems to be in fine spirits."
Marquis Mikhail offered a formal reply to Miss Windsor, then turned his attention to Jenkins.
"Viscount Williatte, might we have a private word?"
After a mont's hesitation, Jenkins nodded and followed the two n to another corner of the courtyard.
Just as Jenkins suspected, these two were among those who already knew about his family's circumstances. The conversation that followed unfolded exactly as he had predicted: Marquis Mikhail and Earl Hersha stated unequivocally that they wished to support him.
Coming from anyone else, the offer would have been startlingly abrupt. But both n could be considered his 'fathers-in-law' of a sort. His special relationships with Hathaway and Briny were no great secret, so he understood their motives and why they had co prepared.
Last year, Alexia Miller had acquired a collection of private letters belonging to Bel Diran's nobles and officials from the illicit organization known as the Witch's House. Before she left Nolan, she had given all of them to Jenkins. He had later used these letters to 'threaten' Earl Hersha in an attempt to leverage them for intelligence.
For various reasons, including the evolution of his relationship with Hathaway, Jenkins had not contacted Earl Hersha privately since then. But the letters remained potent. Especially now, in a ti of war, those that detailed connections to Cheslan contained information that could be utterly damning.
Marquis Mikhail and Earl Hersha stated that they wanted to support Jenkins in his bid to beco the nation's next king. They also hoped he would be willing to produce the letters, which would greatly smooth his path to the throne.
The mont he suspected Hathaway and Briny already knew about his family's situation, Jenkins had anticipated this very conversation. He was prepared:
"Thank you for your support... However, regarding the letters and other such matters, you can speak with Princess Dolores Stuart. I don't understand politics—not in the slightest—so I've entrusted these affairs to soone I trust to handle them for ."
He really didn't understand politics.
"Stuart?"
Both the earl and the marquis had heard the rumors about Jenkins and the northern princess. In fact, during his stay in Ruen, the gossip had been the talk of the town.
"Yes, Princess Stuart. Oh, and one more thing. I'm not sure if you've heard, but a delegation from the north will be visiting Bel Diran in the near future."
Marquis Mikhail and Earl Hersha exchanged a glance. They had indeed heard of the visit, but they were unaware that any mbers of the royal family would be part of the delegation.
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