Ch 16: Letters

Magic is fundamentally chaotic… When you use it, you invite more chaos into your life and even if you stop the chaos you summoned doesn’t.

• High Magus Luther

Waking was difficult for Solomon the following morning. He’d spent the entirety of his day after church buried underground under the watchful eyes of an angry god comparing and contrasting runes. He had intended to sleep earlier, but had gotten too wrapped up in what he was doing. Not even the dreadful draft that seemed to permeate his bones whenever he was looking at the runes could break his focus.

He would’ve slept in, but he had a number of correspondences he wanted to respond to alongside the staggering amount of evidence he’d managed to compile against Mayor Neiman and First Watchman Marcus. When it reached Etling and their garrison they would no doubt send a large contingent to arrest them and flush out any corruption tied to them. Once they were out of play Solomon would have temporary control over managing the city, and that would make turning things around in the town easier, which would simplify attracting new businesses to Moonfallow.

He grabbed the first letter among the stack, scolding himself for not simply writing responses as he received them, and unfolded it. He recognized the parchment with the stag head emblem of the Morrow family printer at the top.

Solomon,

It is good you made it to your new estate and have taken things in hand. Upon a review of inherited properties, it was determined that your manor is too insignificant to tip the balance past the ten-percent allowed by the law of primogeniture. I had no personal desire to remove the property from you, but I did not wish to be counter to the law.

Your old room has been converted into guest quarters and will soon see its first visitors from the Grydens. If there were any additional goods or furniture that you wished to have, I have included an itemized list of what will be going into storage. Have the central bank send a purchase and shipping fee to me and I will have them sent to you.

As you have not been prepared to manage property such as what you have inherited please keep in mind our family name when it comes to administering it. Every action you take reflects on the Morrows.

• Grand Duke Chorde Morrow

Solomon penned a quick response to the letter, not a hint of emotion showing on his face as he wrote down the most rote and perfunctory information necessary before signing it. It was expected that they’d send a letter to one another at least once a month, but that didn’t mean anything within it needed to actually matter.

He reached for the next letter.

Brother,

I am glad to hear that you are safe and well. I have missed your presence in the manor, but I know that you are working to create something of your own and that thought gladdens me. Things here are not all woe and misfortune. With mother and Jude moved to a separate estate on the property I rarely have to deal with whatever drama they choose to create.

Solomon chuckled at that before continuing.

I spend my days reading, eating, and waiting. My betrothed is still unable to return for us to be wed. I petitioned Chorde to consider breaking the betrothal, but he has taken father’s stance on it. I have been given permission to visit Theodosia at the capital in a few months, and hope that I might convince Chorde to allow me to visit you at your manor as well. I am waiting for him to be in a good mood. Which is to say, a mood in which the very edges of his mouth aren’t turned quite so far downward.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

There were a few ramblings on what she’d been up to, as well as some updates regarding what she’d been reading followed by simply,

Your sister, Bernice

Solomon sat with this letter for a few moments before writing his own. Putting far more sincerity and humor into this one than he had into the one he sent his brother. After he was done he placed it to the side.

Moonfallow was his primary focus, but his mind frequently turned to ways in which he could help his sister as well. His mind turned to the ritual, to magic. He would be so much more able to help her if he had that kind of power. Particularly if he looked into the more forbidden magics he’d found listed. He had already made the decision to seek them out if he did perform the ritual. He’d already be in mortal danger afterward, he may as well push things even farther. In for a copper drak, in for a gold one, as they say.