"Tell us what happened, Oslo."
Duke Braster sat in a lounge with his wife. It was still evening about an hour after Bellavarn returned. Oslo had come to him after speaking with Trisha and mentioned that they had a problem. They both cleared their schedule for this.
"Sir, I am not sure where I should begin."
Braster ran a hand through his hair.
"Just... start at the beginning."
"Right. I suppose the first thing I should mention is that every smithy we visited refused us. They denied us service on account of the rumor about Bellavarn."
Trisha was halfway into throwing her teacup when she stopped. It was a gift, so throwing it would upset someone else unnecessarily. Instead, she settled for using her other hand to squeeze Braster's arm.
"That poisonous bitch. It is all her fault. Bellavarn had gone completely unnoticed until now. I tried to quell the rumor, but I didn't expect it to reach the commoners too."
Oslo winced but went ahead and asked.
"Was Lady Wyre offended that she couldn't meet Bellavarn?"
Trisha rolled her head back and pressed her finger to her forehead, trying to prevent creases from forming.
"Ugh. I shouldn't have invited her so soon. I made excuses but it is clear that her mind is already set in a direction. She is stubborn too, incredibly selective for her daughter despite being a baroness. Her daughter is a delight, but Lady Wyre can be so petty..."
Braster looked uncomfortable at his wife's regrets. He tried to clear the air by following up.
"There is more, no?"
Olso steeled himself.
"Yes. It was unsettling for Bellavarn to be turned away at every occasion but he quickly bounced back. He even created a backup plan for his invention and decided that it can be made from clay instead of metal."
"Clay?"
"Ceramics is mainly used for pottery, but it holds many other options as well. It was a genuinely good idea. I brought him to visit my old friend Turner."
"Hm. I believe I remember speaking with him a few times. He has a daughter around Bellavarn's age, doesn't he?"
It took a moment to keep his expression neutral as he continued.
"He does. We visited him, but we received unsettling news. It appears that Duke Astor has poached him."
"What! He dared-"
Trisha squeezed Brasters arm, grounding him. Oslo interjected in the brief pause.
"It is my fault, Duke. I neglected to check in with Turner and let things deteriorate to the point he decided it was best to move shop. The worse news is that I did some quick digging, and I have already uncovered evidence of at least three of the smithies we visited had been in indirect contact with Duke Astor. He's been creeping in on our crafters for almost two months. I will need to complete more thorough investigations to uncover more, but I suspect that there are even more hidden damages we are unaware of."
The Duke was silent. This was major news. This was still the edge of his land, and these were his people. Astor controlled nearly all business in and around the capital, but it seems he is looking to expand that influence.
Trisha had been meeting consistently with the other noble Ladies and discussing their families and partners' business. There was no chatter about the Astor's moves. It could only mean that he is significantly better at subterfuge than either of them thought. There was also a high possibility that several other nobles have been lying to their faces for a while now.
They must have enjoyed pulling one over a Duke's eyes.
"It is unsettling that we've both overlooked the young Duke Astor. I suppose his parents letting him succeed the House so early wasn't idiocy after all. This is good, though. Bellavarn managed to uncover the plot before it grew into something unmanageable."
"True. I will need to plan a counterattack. This insult can't go unpaid. Trisha, you should figure out who has been lying to our faces while they still believed we are ignorant."
Trisha's eyes were filled with cold fire.
"You needn't tell me, dear. I'll make those wenches regret their actions."
The Duke felt a chuckle in his chest and smirked. That was his wife. Caring to her friends and a disaster to her enemies. Oslo interrupted once again.
"You will have to double your revenge because Duke Astor is the one who has been spreading the rumor."
The temperature in the room dropped. Braster's eyes became chilly and deadly. Trisha looked murderous. The combined aura wafting off them was enough to make Oslo gulp.
"I'm sorry. I think I misheard. That twerp has been spouting nonsense about my boy?"
"Surely we didn't both mishear that, right, Oslo?"
Adjusting his collar so he could breathe, Oslo held up a hand and explained.
"Not only did the smithies in indirect contact with Astor know about the rumor, but the last smith that I conversed with had also blown the rumor out of proportion. He wasn't a smart fellow either, so I figured he heard it directly from someone."
Remembering the oaf that called himself a blacksmith, Oslo clenched his fist. The coot was hollering about an absolute demon. It caused Oslo to lose his temper. He had to teach the man a lesson. Luckily, Oslo took his gloves off before doing any damage, and Bellavarn was too distracted to notice.
Oslo's knuckles twitched. It had been a while since he dirtied his hands like that.
"It also explains why the entirety of high society, including the royal family, all know about the rumor despite us keeping it tightly in house."
Sighing, he remembered his old friend.
"The reason Turner was ultimately pushed to accept was because of his daughter. I spoke with him for a moment after Bellavarn exited. It appears Duke Astor appeared in person with his offer. It also so happened that Turner's daughter, Kelly, was smitten with him at first sight. Turner confided in me that Astor was whispering poison in his daughter's ear about the Sallow family. Kelly became enraged and demanded her father defect."
It was a well-crafted plan that hit three birds with one stone. It slandered the young Duke and the Sallow house, bought him an experienced crafter and deprived the Sallows of business. It was unlikely he knew that he managed to foil Bellavarn's plans for his invention, the events coincidentally coinciding.
There was also winning over a loyal follower in Kelly, wrapping her father around his finger.
Oslo rubbed his eyes.
He wasn't present for whatever occurred between Bellavarn and Kelly, but Kerv looked half as murderous as the Duke and Duchess were looking at him right now. Unfortunately, he wasn't done.
"Kelly and Bellavarn had some sort of interaction outside while I was busy. Kerv described it as if Kelly had insulted Bellavarn greatly. Combined with the constant setbacks and consistent judgment from the rumors, it hit him hard. Bellavarn broke down on the ride home."
Trisha was breathing hard through her nose. She wanted to punch something, preferably someone young. Like Duke Astor. Or Melody. Or this Kelly person. Everyone was so quick to judge her little boy without ever trying to get to know him.
She cooled quickly when she remembered her own actions.
The panic she felt. The horror, and what she had seen. Her deepest regret was that she had been fooled as well. It was entirely likely Bellavarn blamed her. A hypocrite of the highest standard.
She felt a comforting hand squeeze her own. Looking up, she saw Braster's smile. She could see the understanding and absolution she was looking for. Behind it all, Trisha could see the unfathomable wrath he wanted to bring down. He just needed a valid target.
The Duchess smiled as she realized who the most likely candidate was. Deciding it was time to ask, she spoke in a measured tone.
"Can you tell us what Bellavarn said? What should we be doing to help him?"
Braster bobbed his head in agreement with her words. Setting aside his anger. Oslo smiled.
"Bellavarn is an amazing young man. He handled the situations well and always had the benefit of the family in mind. He was angry yet fair-minded. He adapted quickly under pressure. Though, I believe he is trying a bit too hard."
The smile turned sad.
"He is afraid you two will abandon him if he doesn't do well. I believe that is the reason he has been studying so hard. He is trying to gain your approval. I suspect that it is also the reason behind him accepting Duchess' option of setting him up, even though his wounds haven't healed yet. He knew it would make you happy..."
Trisha wanted to cry. Her son! Her little boy. So kind and gentle. So smart and talented. He was her pride and joy, doesn't he know? She would be happy to keep him all to herself. He didn't need to find a lady! He was hers!
Braster felt similar emotions of a more manly variety. He loved his son. When Bellavarn locked himself away, he was worried. It was a pleasant surprise when he learned that Bellavarn had actually been studying intensely. He showed off to the King and put the heirs in their place.
Bellavarn cared deeply for the staff. He brought them all together and made them all one huge family. It had been so long since all of them were back home that they had been living each day in monotony, waiting. They worked and did little else. But when Bellavarn started speaking to each of them. Laughing and learning. Playing games. Sharing treats and spreading joy...
Braster didn't know how to be prouder. And then Bellavarn went and created something no one ever thought of. An invention so simple and yet so impactful and extraordinary that it could change the world! His son was not only the most thoughtful person he knew but was more innovative than the past three generations of Sallows.
Bellavarn was loved even if he didn't see it. Even if he felt alone. Everyone in the mansion was here for him now. He would go on to be a great person, and his name would go down in history if he continued down his path.
That was why it was so important to nurture him and keep him safe.
"I wish it was his birthday again so that we could throw him a party."
"Unfortunately, it will be several months until then. There is a spring festival in a month, though. Perhaps we can have plans for everyone to go out together?"
Braster folded his arms in thought at Oslo's suggestion.
"Hm. We can do that. I can set it up so that everyone is free that day. We can make some plans. In the meantime..."
Trisha had a thought.
"What is Bellavarn going to do now that there is no one to work on his invention?"
Oslo shifted his feet.
"Well. He plans on doing it himself. He seems confident in working in ceramics and believes it shouldn't be too difficult. He gave Terry severance pay in exchange for many of his tools. He even had Nem go back for a few, including a bucket of clay. If he is still awake, he is likely shaping it as we speak."
Oslo noticed Bellavarn seemed to be developing the habit of throwing himself into work when he is stressed. It wasn't the worst habit to have, but it wasn't entirely healthy either. He was very much like his father in that regard.
On the parent's side... Both of them were surprised. Their son working in ceramics? A professional craft? Usually someone apprenticed for years before they were knowledgeable enough to make things independently and open their own studio. Bellavarn never worked clay before, so it should take some time to get it right. It would be much faster if Braster just called someone from home to do the work.
"Before you make assumptions, maybe you should visit him."
=
*Splat*
"No! Krev. I told you. Stop! Get back here. Put that down."
"Hah. You got to catch me first, Bell."
*Splat*
"Krev. This isn't funny. Stop this. You are getting it everywhere."
*Plop*
"Whoah!"
Kerv slipped and fell back, the wind knocked out of him. Bellavarn pounced, wrestling the small bucket of clay away. Half of its contents were painted across the room from an impromptu mud fight.
"I told you not to do this in the library. Do you realize how long it will take to clean this up? Ah! The water is probably in the books."
Bellavarn set down the bucket and left a wheezing Kerv stranded on the floor. Running over to the bookshelves, he double-checked they were all okay.
*Sigh*
"It is my fault for bringing it in here anyway. I just wanted to get started early..."
Oslo cleared his throat. Kerv extricated himself from the floor with a wince as Bellavarn leaned out from the bookshelf, finally noticing everyone standing in the doorway.
"Oh. You didn't see all that, did you? I told Kerv to stop."
"It is young master Bellavarn's fault for doing nothing but work."
Trisha noted that he spoke to Bellavarn formerly now that there was an audience.
Braster, on the other hand, was taken aback by the mood. Bellavarn didn't seem all that down. Maybe Kerv deserved a raise after all.
Braster looked around the clay-spotted library.
He scowled.
Nope. It is going to the maids instead.
"Did you come to check up on me? I managed a few basic forms, but they need to dry before I can really work with them. They are over there."
Jerked a thumb, Bellavarn directed the eyes to a cordoned-off corner. Trisha raised a delicate eyebrow. Braster held wrapped an arm around her as he lead the way. She tiptoed slightly behind him, hemming up her dress.
How did all this come from only half a bucket?
Outside, Oslo excused himself to address the pair of maids who were loitering outside. They were in the midst of playing rock-paper-scissors...
Inside, Braster examined nine wet shapes sitting on a small wooden shelf. A tarp covered the area to prevent disasters. Too small to protect the entire room.
Braster recognized the pieces that looked almost exactly like the diagrams he'd seen. Six circular disks with smaller rounded prongs arranged in a triangle formation. Holes were cut out the center.
"What are those little snakes for?"
Trisha pointed to a few thick coils set aside.
Bellavarn called over from where he was airing a book.
"Those will be the trigger mechanisms later. Place them in the center, click, and the piece will turn."
Trisha turned her head, trying to imagine it. Bellavarn could sense the confusion and walked over, pointing.
"Two of those disks will be connected to one another through the center rod. I kept them separate so I can carve the magical symbols before connecting them. Trying to get a needle in such a small space would be counter intuitive."
It clicked in both their minds.
"The form is harder to work with than I thought. Turner uses really wet clay. It makes sense, since he specializes in thrown pottery and not hand-built works. The clay needs to be extra wet when spinning in order to be malleable enough to build up."
Bellavarn stated it like his words made the most sense in the world.
Trisha exchanged a look with her husband, having the same thought.
Our son is a genius!
Bellavarn took their silence as understanding and walked off to greet a downcast Ester and a smiling Lannie. Lannie won rock paper scissors.
Father and Mother watched their son greet the two maids with a sorry expression. Lannie and Ester exchanged barbs with each other, but neither of them seemed overly annoyed or upset. Kerv jogged up, rubbing the back of his head. He aimed his palms outward as he got chewed out by both Bellavarn and Ester. Lannie laughed.
Was this a product of Bellavarn's efforts? Kerv had already managed to break Bellavarn out of his funk, and now others were joining in as well. When Misses Vale burst in with a tray of cookies, Braster had to reorganize his thoughts.
Maybe... Maybe they didn't have so much to worry about after all.