I thought indignantly, then sighed. Of course, I managed to find enough coin to write to Ara's family, and to obtain through the father the name of a good bookseller. But the first was an obligation, I told myself. And as for the latter, it was merely the start of the education that Branaric had blabbed to the world that I lacked.
I looked up at the ceiling as the words slowly sank in. "Personal fortune"? How much was that? Whatever it was, it had to be a vast improvement over our present circumstances. I grinned, thinking how I had agonized over which book to choose from the bookseller's list. Now I could order them all. I could even hire my own scribe…
Shaking my head, I banished the dreams of avarice, and returned to the letter--not that much remained. …
"Now, that's a frightening thought," I said grimly. He ended with a scrawled signature.
I lowered the letter slowly to the desk, not wanting to consider why I found that last suggestion even more frightening than the first.
Behind Bran's letter, bearing three official-looking seals, was the Letter of Intent. In very beautiful handwriting, it named in precise terms a sum even higher than I'd dared to let myself think of, the remainder after the taxes for the army had been subtracted. Wondering who was getting sum, which was even greater, I scanned the rest, which outlined in flowery language pretty much what Branaric had said. It seemed we now had a business house handling our money; previously I'd gathered the scanty sums and redispersed them myself, in coin.
I put that letter down, too. Suddenly the possibilities now available started multiplying in my mind. Not visiting Athanarel. I didn't even consider that; I'd tried to win a crown, and lost. But supposedly all the wrongs I had fought for were being addressed, and so--I vowed--I was done with royal affairs.
No, I told myself, my work now was Tlanth, and with this money, all my plans could be put into action. Rebuilding, new roads, booksellers…I looked around at the castle, no longer seeing the weather damage and neglect, but how it would look repaired and redecorated. "Oria!" I yelled, running downstairs. "Oria! Julen! Calaub! We're !
I looked up at the ceiling as the words slowly sank in. "Personal fortune"? How much was that? Whatever it was, it had to be a vast improvement over our present circumstances. I grinned, thinking how I had agonized over which book to choose from the bookseller's list. Now I could order them all. I could even hire my own scribe…
Shaking my head, I banished the dreams of avarice, and returned to the letter--not that much remained. …
"Now, that's a frightening thought," I said grimly. He ended with a scrawled signature.
I lowered the letter slowly to the desk, not wanting to consider why I found that last suggestion even more frightening than the first.
Behind Bran's letter, bearing three official-looking seals, was the Letter of Intent. In very beautiful handwriting, it named in precise terms a sum even higher than I'd dared to let myself think of, the remainder after the taxes for the army had been subtracted. Wondering who was getting sum, which was even greater, I scanned the rest, which outlined in flowery language pretty much what Branaric had said. It seemed we now had a business house handling our money; previously I'd gathered the scanty sums and redispersed them myself, in coin.
I put that letter down, too. Suddenly the possibilities now available started multiplying in my mind. Not visiting Athanarel. I didn't even consider that; I'd tried to win a crown, and lost. But supposedly all the wrongs I had fought for were being addressed, and so--I vowed--I was done with royal affairs.
No, I told myself, my work now was Tlanth, and with this money, all my plans could be put into action. Rebuilding, new roads, booksellers…I looked around at the castle, no longer seeing the weather damage and neglect, but how it would look repaired and redecorated. "Oria!" I yelled, running downstairs. "Oria! Julen! Calaub! We're !
( Sherwood Smith )
[ Crown Duel ]
www.QuoteSweet.com