Falling Facades

First time you feel it, it might make you sad

Next time you feel it, it might make you mad

~ Huey Lewis

Chapter 2

Revenge is a confession of pain. ~ Latin Proverb

To celebrate catching up on the schoolwork that had built up at the academy during his fortunately brief imprisonment, Leon had requested an excused absence from the academy with Clarice and arranged to collect her at the Atlee mansion for an evening out on the town.

It wasn't coincidental that this meant Leon would be off campus for the evening following his sister attending a tea party with Nicol Fia Ascart. A few hours for that perfect storm to calm down would be best, he thought.

Or worse, they could hit it off. If that happened Sophia would likely be out for Leon's blood. She didn't like Jenna very much, for reasons mysterious only to those who hadn't met the two of them.

"Did I keep you waiting?" Clarice came down the grand staircase of the mansion, dressed to the nines.

Leon admired the view for a moment, then reminded himself that he'd have all evening to admire her. "I was a little early, your father and I found something to talk about."

The redhead accepted his offered arm and then looked through the door of the library to see that Count Atlee was politely pretending not to notice them from in there. "You didn't threaten him, did you daddy?"

"I wouldn't infringe on your right to do that dear." Bernard Fia Atlee came to the door of the room. "Leon is consulting with me on proposing an amendment to our current laws on debt and borrowing." Clarice's father had been the Minister of the Treasury for a few months now, but he was planning to make a mark there after years of Marquis Frampton's influence in that arm of the government.

"What are you up to?" she asked Leon playfully. "I know you want extra credit for as many classes as possible, but you just got out of trouble at court."

Leon gestured to the door. "I'll tell you as we go. Thanks for your time, Count Atlee."

The count bowed. "Thank you for yours. Please let me know if you're going to spend the night here rather than going back to the academy."

The two young people exchanged looks and Leon nodded slightly to Clarice.

"We'll be coming back here," she told her father. "I've had the servants ready a room for Leon, but he may be sharing mine."

The balding man gave them both a steady look. "I'll trust your judgement then."

Clarice let go of Leon and curtsied to the count. "I'll endeavour to live up to your trust." If her eyes were a little damp while they made their way to the waiting cabriolet, Leon made no mention of it.

"So what's this law you want to change?" she asked, touching up her make-up as the little carriage carried them into the streets of the city that catered more towards entertainments for the gentry and the nobility. The cabriolet was very well sprung, and Holfort's roads were very good within the capital itself.

Leon turned slightly, letting his knee press against hers and admiring the way she filled out the dress - even though it wasn't all that revealing in the cold weather. "There's a certain amount of support at the moment for changing the laws that allow a parent or guardian to take out loans in the name of their children."

Green eyes flicked towards him. "Ah, you mean Lafan's situation?"

"Indeed. She does have five young men with excellent connections willing to argue the case that the current laws are abusive. And being fair, it's not doing the current economy any good."

The treasury was entirely concerned with administering the crown's finances. The idea of estimating the kingdom's wealth and financial health was seen as rather impractical. At least Leon didn't have to explain the basic concepts.

"I can see how it helps Lafan." Her brow furrowed. "And the idea that father could, in theory, leave me heavily in debt without my having the slightest say in it is horrifying. Not that he would. But how does that affect the kingdom's economy?"

"A lot of these debts aren't getting paid back, or at least not well. Which means lenders demand more interest and some households have borrowed far more money than they can realistically repay by spreading the borrowing across individual members." Luxion didn't have the capacity to gather detailed information on Holfort's entire economy, but he was intended to support a fledgling colony so he was highly conversant with the principles and could extrapolate from a much smaller set of data. "From the crown's point of view, the feudal nobles having heavy debts makes them less able to wage private wars - and borrowing isn't inherently bad, but there's a limit to what's sustainable and if a significant number of the borrowers can't repay what they owe then that could tear the guts out of the lenders."

"That's a grand concept, but be honest Leon: you're doing this because it gets a girl out of trouble. Are you sure she hasn't captured your heart?" Clarice sounded cheerful but there was a little edge of fear to her words. Understandably so.

Leon took her hand. "Did I ever tell you why I destroyed my father's first wife?"

"She'd been cheating on him, hadn't she?"

"She had, but that wasn't why. I didn't really care about that. Let's face it, I exist because he wasn't loyal to her either." He lifted Clarice's hand to his lips. "Have you ever heard of the Ladies of the Forest?"

The young woman frowned and then shook her head.

"A cabal of noblewomen who trade in the younger sons of noble households. The boys are married to rich widows in exchange for a financial payment. After they're sexually abused and used up, the boys are sent to the royal army to die… and their widows collect yet another pension, with which to fund more young husbands. I believe, though I can't prove it, that certain officers in the royal army are encouraged to see that, in victory or defeat, casualties among those youngsters are high."

Clarice hissed. "I heard nothing of this."

"Why would you? They're from feudal domains far from the capital. Those boys don't enter the academy. They don't have friends or contacts that might wonder what happened to them." Leon smiled coldly. "Zola was pitching me around to the other Ladies of the Forest. And my little brother was next."

"Shit. Leon, I'm sorry."

He shook himself slightly. "No, I'm not accusing you. Or blaming you. But you see… I don't believe that children should be commodities. And isn't that what the Lafans are doing? Selling their children's future earnings to support themselves?"

Clarice reversed his grip on her hand and lifted his own to her lips, kissing it gently. "I'm surprised you're not going after them."

"I plan to. Pension reform would save the crown quite a substantial amount, it shouldn't be a hard sell."

"I meant them, personally."

Leon made a face. "Even if I did go after the individuals, other people would just use the same loophole. In the long run, the only real solution is to fix the system. Which isn't to say I won't hit a target of opportunity. However, they also have support of their own. It means picking my moment. Whereas right now, there's still a faction inside the Temple that want to believe Lafan is the Saintess' heiress. That makes her a very useful figurehead to change the rules."

"And just a figurehead?" Clarice asked. "I want to believe that but after… After Jilk."

"I'm using her. She should benefit, which is generally how a good business deal works out. But I don't want her. Not the way Jilk wants her - or the way she wants them, for that matter." Leon smiled. "You know Julius was talking about the six of them just going off and settling their own island. That really might be for the best. They could well be happy doing that and they wouldn't be bothering anyone else."

She smiled a little viciously. "I kind of like the idea of them being exiled to the back of beyond. But it wouldn't work. They'd starve to death within a month."

"Now say that as if you don't consider that a feature of the plan, not a flaw."

Clarice gave him a little hug. "Maybe later. But how can I help?"

Leon returned the hug. "With which one?"

"Both. They are worthy causes. You do make a good point: however little I like Lafan, I can understand her wanting to find a young man that could take her away from her family. I wish it hadn't been Jilk, but that's beside the point. If no other girl is ever left that desperate, perhaps…" Clarice paused and shook her head.

Leon pulled her to him. "I like the idea of that. If you want to help, perhaps you could coach Katarina to convince the temple that she also supports a reform. There are significantly more of their leaders who want to claim her as the saintess' heir and it would give the temple a common cause."

"Appealing to their moderates," she agreed. "I'll talk to her tomorrow."

The cabriolet pulled up outside a restaurant and by mutual but unspoken consensus the two teenagers put the topic aside in favour of happier thoughts.

There were two stacks of paperwork on the table in front of Leon Fou Bartford when Deirdre Fou Roseblade entered the student council offices. "Did you enjoy your tea party?" he asked, without looking up.

"Ha!" The blonde perched herself on the corner of the table, her uniform skirt riding up a little. "Jealous, are you?"

Leon finished up with the document in front of him and dropped it onto the completed stack. Then he set his pen down and started working his fingers to get the stiffness out of them as he looked at the drill-haired girl. "I hate to disappoint the many many girls fantasising about it, but I'm just not that into Nicol. He's a nice guy, but there's no spark."

The girl pouted. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do." He took another paper off the stack waiting for his attention and started checking it. "Do you know what the difference is between envy and jealousy?"

"Lecture me." She hopped off the table and drew back the chair facing him. A moment later she was sat across from Leon, elbows on the table and her hands supporting her chin.

Leon gave her an amused look. "Okay, but no naughty school girl and teacher fantasies."

"No promises."

"I suppose I shouldn't expect any," the boy sighed. "So. Envy is a desire to have that which others have. Jealousy is a desire to take it away from those others."

"How is that different?" Deirdre asked. She drummed her fingers against her cheek.

Leon finished up checking the list of purchases he was looking at and initialled it. "Nicks and Dorothea are getting along pretty well."

"And you see, that's why you and I would be perfect."

"Your reaction there is envy," he told her. "You want a relationship like Dorothea's. If you were jealous of her, you'd be trying to seduce my brother, not me."

The blonde nodded. "So you're not jealous of me having tea with Nicol."

"Better you than Jenna. She's not quite as shallow as she used to be, but yeesh. It's a measure of degrees…"

"I'm almost insulted, you know." Deirdre took a page from the stack of incomplete documents and scanned it, taking up a pen to annotate it. "I've known you longer than Clarice, but you turned to her and not me. What does she have that I lack?"

"I'd answer you, but then you might stop helping me with the dreaded paperwork."

"Consider the answers a condition for my aid," she told him. "I'm serious, Leon. I don't want to come across as desperate, but I'm a little older than Nicol is and I don't want to settle. I want a real man."

Leon passed her a pen and looked at her for a moment. She did seem to be serious. "I guess I can't blame you for having standards. And to be honest, it's flattering that you say I measure up."

"But I don't meet yours?"

"Not yet, no. Maybe someday. You want a, what did you say? A real man? Fair enough. I've no business telling you what your standards should be. For that matter, while Julius and his crew treated their fiancees poorly, I've got absolutely no right to say that they should have stuck with them. It's how they handled the matter I object to." He met her blue eyes seriously. "I joke around, because I don't think maturity requires me to be boring. But I am looking for a certain amount of maturity."

"You know I'm older than Clarice, right?"

"Oh, is that why you're a third year? I was wondering." He shook his head. "Maturity is growing up, not growing older. It's measured in life events, not years."

Deirdre scribbled her initials on the next list. "So I don't have a sufficiently tragic backstory for you?"

"Ouch." He clutched his heart. "And that's not exactly how I'd put it - although it's not entirely wrong, either. How should I put it? I respect people who've been tested. Although I'm also shallow enough to admit that Clarice being pretty helps a lot. I'm not mooning over Lafan, after all."

"By that logic, you respect her."

"I do. I think she's wrong, but she's got a hell of a drive and I can see the logic behind what she did."

Deirdre shook her head. "You're a very strange man."

"And yet you like me. I'm clearly doing something right. Also Clarice likes me - which is a little more important to me at the moment."

"She's not standing behind you," Deirdre promised. "Although it would be very dramatic if she was."

"Character is who you are in the dark, and fidelity involves being loyal when it's hard. And god knows, relationships are work."

"On that we agree." The blonde sighed. "This is very frustrating. I'm almost tempted to ask Clarice if she wanted to share."

"I like to think I'll have a vote if you do." Leon tapped his pen on the blotter, checking if it still had ink in it. "Of course, you may find that men who rise to adversity qualify as real men. And I do think we've got some adversity coming up - you may be in luck."

"How do you mean?"

"I was tried on charges of conspiring with Princess Hertrude to betray the kingdom to the principality," he reminded her. "Of which I was innocent, as it happens. But that's not to say she didn't feel me out on the possibility, just that I declined."

"Oh really, she didn't offer you enough?"

"I suppose you could put it that way. I don't think my family are particularly loyal to Holfort, most feudal lords probably aren't. But they're better than the alternatives and right now, I don't like Fanoss' chances."

Deirdre looked disappointed. "So you chose the safe route."

"Taking risks because they are risks is stupid. Take risks because the reward is worth it."

"I see. But you think that they'll come anyway. Even though Count Ascart negotiated an update to her father's peace treaty with us?"

Leon shrugged. "I don't think she has much choice. Fanoss' lords are dominated by those who hate the treaty. If enough of them pressure her, she'll have to renounce the treaty or face a revolt. And as an untested young leader, that would be quite a risk. War with Holfort is actually less of a risk for her - particularly if they strike first. I've recommended that my parents look at fortifying the county and making sure our levies are ready, because we could be in a great deal of trouble."

The girl looked troubled. "Our domain isn't particularly near to Fanoss, but I'd expect that my father would bring his levies to your support. Perhaps I should plan on visiting Dorothea there after I graduate. After all, if defending your mother's lands doesn't win me your gratitude…"

"Gratitude is one thing, romance is another. It's really not a good idea to get them confused," he counselled.

In the familiar role of royal herald, Viscount Marmoria finished reading out a decree from King Roland Rafa Holfort ordering stronger measures to deal with banditry in the outlying regions of the continent. The reports of armed robbery were increasing in numbers, and it was largely ascribed to elf contract servants being dismissed and joining the gangs for lack of another option.

Leon would have preferred a more humane option of just enlisting the elves in the royal army, or shipping them back to their home island and leaving them there in the hope that they'd create a less parasitic culture. What had been decided was that the crown would pay a bounty for elf ears for the next twelve months… although they'd heavily fine anyone attacking elves still in formal employment. Hopefully Kyle and Yumeria would be safe, Leon thought. He might need to take precautions - best to ask them.

However, the next announcement was the one that he and Count Atlee had been working towards. He saw movement at his side and two handsome dark-haired gentlemen came to stand next to Leon and the Count.

"Dan," Bernard Fia Atlee greeted the man.

"Bernard." Count Dan Fia Ascart nodded to Leon. "And the famous Lord Bartford again. Most young men your age make few appearances here."

"Sir. Nicol." Leon bowed towards them. "Are you here on business?"

"Familiarising Nicol with the court now that he's close to graduation." The younger of the two court counts (or at least Leon presumed that the dapper Count Ascart was younger than Atlee - genetics could be cruel) shrugged. "Are you looking for a position yourself?"

"It's a thought. As with many things, it's best to keep my options open. I'm barely sixteen."

Viscount Marmoria formally accepted a scroll from the king, the touch of the royal hands having symbolically rendered the law a royal decree. "It is the pleasure of our most gracious King Roland Rafa Holfort to amend the loans and lending laws established by his distinguished grandfather King Astolfo the Second. Whereupon, it is deemed that the clauses permitting a regent to borrow upon the behalf of the lord for whom they are serving have been taken beyond their original intent by various lenders and borrowers…"

The legalese rolled on, but then reached the key point:

"...whereupon said clause is hereby amended that loans may be taken out in the name of the domain's lord as a legal entity and not in the name of the specific holder of that domain. And furthermore that said loans must be countersigned by the current lord should they be at least fifteen years of age, and by the Minister of the Treasury if they are not, that due financial diligence be carried out.

"Furthermore, the borrowing in the name of any individual not holding a lordship and lacking the age of fifteen is hereby deemed illegal in all regards; and said borrowing in the name of an individual not holding a lordship and lacking the age of eighteen is deemed illegal saving that they co-sign with witnesses to confirm they are doing so of their own accord and in full understanding."

"And whereupon such loans are in effect as of this date, the liability for this abuse of King Astolfo's laws is deemed to be shared equally between the lender and the guardian of the minor who has until now been deemed the borrower. That being the case, one half of the remaining outstanding balance and all future interest shall be the responsibility of the guardian."

Leon clenched his fist. Yes! He'd been worried that that would be altered, but it had made it through the final review by the royal council - essentially the King and his chosen advisors. This wasn't a parliamentary situation and the King could decree anything he wanted - as long as he could convince the lords that the law was bearable to them.

The viscount rolled the scroll up and handed it to the servant that would file it away and make sure that copies were made to be sent to all the necessary places.

King Roland rose to his feet. "It has been pointed out to me by my son that there is a captive in the royal dungeons, imprisoned for fraudulent loans claimed in her name by her legal guardians. By the measure of these amendments to our laws, justice may now more accurately be levied."

Across the hall from him, Leon saw Julius push free to stand at the front of the crowd. His companions joined him, all eagerly watching the door to the throne room.

"Bring Lady Marie Fou Lafan, Viscount Alexander Fou Lafan and Viscountess Mavis Fou Lafan before me," Roland ordered, and the doors swung open to reveal a sorry little trio - or rather, one pair and a singleton because Marie was pointedly staying as far from her parents as she could.

Alexander? Leon wondered if it was a coincidence that the viscount shared a name with that shady little bear.

Marie's admirers brightened just at the very sight of her but for a wonder (and perhaps because Count Seberg and a couple of rather muscular royal guards were pointedly supervising them), they didn't raise a ruckus.

The viscount and viscountess were dressed well, or at least gaudily. Leon wasn't an expert in what was considered tasteful in current fashions, but if he assumed that the Ascarts were a good example then the Lafans missed the target quite considerably. Marie, he could excuse since she was still in her school uniform - which were probably the only presentable clothes that she had.

Marched to before the dais, each of the three dropped to one knee. Marie plucked at her skirt in a curtsey that wasn't quite correct protocol but that did an excellent job of making her look cute and innocent.

Roland stroked his beard. "I have been required to spend quite a considerable amount of my limited time discussing the matter of your latest loan with the temple, Viscount Lafan. You have incurred their wrath, and my displeasure."

"A simple misunderstanding, sire. It has been blown well out of proportion."

"In any event," the king continued. "I have declared today an amendment to our laws on borrowing. Stripped of legal verbiage - the good Viscount Marmoria can repeat it if you want - it is retroactively illegal for money to be borrowed in the name of anyone below the age of fifteen, and only legal for those below the age of eighteen if they countersign the loan with witnesses affirming that they are fully aware and willing to do so. Your daughter Marie is fifteen, I believe?"

"That's right, sire."

"Hard to believe, looking at her," Roland mused.

"In point of fact," Marmoria noted. "Lady Lafan is sixteen. It does not surprise me that Viscount Lafan has failed to remember his daughter's birthday."

"Is that so?" Roland asked the girl kneeling before him.

Marie nodded, looking fearful. "I'm sixteen, your highness."

"You need not fear me, child. I am hardly an ogre. My son asserts that you are quite competent, and I am inclined to take his word for it. So, the question I must ask you is whether you are willing to co-sign the loan your parents took out. The loan that they reported as being guaranteed by the temple."

"Of course she is," the Viscountess declared. "Be a good girl, Marie."

Leon could practically see Marie biting back 'not a chance in hell'. But she didn't break character. "Mother, I got locked in the royal dungeons because of that loan. Lady Beatrice at the temple wanted to burn me at the stake. I don't think I should sign it."

"Marie, listen to your mother and sign the loan."

The little blonde girl looked at her parents, then looked at her lovers (who in a remarkable sign of financial prudence were all shaking their heads vigorously). "What if I don't?"

"In that case," King Roland explained to her. "This loan and any others in your name will be deemed illegal. The lenders will be required to forgive half of the loan for their own culpability and the rest will remain due to them but from your parents, not from you." He paused. "Lady Lysia, what would the temple's position be?"

A priestess stepped forwards. "The temple holds the loan to be an impious one. If Lady Lafan elects to accept responsibility for it then our original demands will stand. However, I believe the king's judgement to be a wise one and if the fault does indeed rest with Viscount Lafan and his Viscountess then Lady Lafan is blameless and will receive our full apologies and reinstatement as a saint-candidate."

"W-what would that mean for us?" asked Mavis Fou Lafan.

The priestess looked at her steadily and then smiled toothily. Leon shuddered. "I believe the temple elders are divided on whether the parents of a saint-candidate should be burned at stakes or if we should simply impale you both on stakes. And we would want custody until such time as a decision is reached."

"Can I go now?" Marie asked hopefully.

Her father tried to grab hold of her, but she skipped back and now Chris and Greg stepped in, escaping their minders. The swordsman - unarmed for the royal court - pulled Marie back to the others while the viscount simply rebounded off the larger Greg.

Before anyone else could do anything, King Roland stepped forwards, his sceptre - having been on a cushion next to his throne - suddenly in his hand.

There was a solid clunk and Viscount Alexander Fou Lafan fell to the floor, bleeding from his scalp.

"This is my royal court," the king declared flatly. "I appreciate the help, lads, but I can keep order here - and I will have it."

Leon had to tip his hat to the king for that. It was a smooth move.

"Lady Lysia…"

The king's next words would never be heard, for the doors burst open. "Your highness!" A man in herald's garb dashed in. "I crave your pardon but I bring dire news."

Roland gestured for silence with the sceptre. "Take them away," he ordered casually, indicating the Lafans. "Alright, what's so blastedly urgent?"

The herald - Lord Gilgamesh Fia Wulfenbach, who was learning his father's trade - spoke clearly: "War, your highness! A courier vessel has arrived from the Field domain. Squadrons of warships from Fanoss bypassed the border lords and converged upon the Field stronghold."

Leon heard a tsk from Count Ascart.

Count Atlee nodded. "We all suspected that the negotiations were to buy time, Dan."

"I was hoping to buy more. We're still reeling from so many disputed successions." The elder Ascart glanced at his son. "You may be graduating directly into a war, Nicol."

Count Seberg stepped out of the crowd. His domain was another of those not far from the Fanoss border. "How long can Tarquin hold out?"

The young Wulfenbach shook his head. "My lord count, the courier ship was still in view of Castle Field when the banner of Holfort fell."

"That's impossible!" The cry came from Brad Fou Field, standing next to Marie and Julius. "My father would never surrender to Fanoss!"

The herald held out his satchel towards the dais, ignoring the disinherited lordling. "The despatches were sent when the first reports had come in that the Field ships were unable to keep Fanoss from landing troops on the island," he reported soberly. "I have not yet read them, but the verbal message from the courier says that Marquis Field's ship was among those lost. His whereabouts and wellbeing are unknown."

"You're lying!" Brad moved forwards as if to assault the young herald, but fortunately Greg and Jilk caught hold of his arms and dragged him back before the royal guards. Heralds were by law as well as tradition, not to be mistreated. If the boy had done so, King Roland would have been forced to punish him severely. "You're lying! It's not true!"

Viscount Marmoria accepted the satchel of despatches from Wulfenbach. "Your highness, we must summon a war council and send word to call up the feudal lords."

King Roland nodded in agreement. "I will read these dispatches with Count Seberg and Count Arclight, Francis. You know who to call for the council." Then he turned to look in the direction of Count Ascart. "It seems that the recent negotiations were in ill-faith, Count Ascart."

The count offered no excuse as he stepped forwards. "Quite."

"I'll want you to attend the council," the king said pointedly. "There will likely be other reports on their way. The border lords being bypassed should leave them free to raid Fanoss' supplies."

But Leon saw the herald shake his head. "The Fanoss ships have towed a small island behind their fleet. It seems likely that they have loaded it with supplies."

Disbelief was the initial reaction. "Is that even possible?" Nicol asked quietly. He'd prudently stayed out of the limelight as his father was called forwards by the king.

Leon nodded. "Expensive, but doable. Did you see the Fanoss ship that took their princess home? They've improved their ships over the last few years - and if they're holding Field in force then they can use it as a base to secure their control over a sizable swathe of the kingdom. Or as a springboard for attacks deeper into the kingdom."

Leon didn't need a map, there was an ornate but functional one created as a mosaic on the wall of the throne room. The repeatedly ravaged north-west of the kingdom had few powerful lords. Taking out Marquis Field's home - even if he had somehow survived - left ill-guarded routes open to strike at Marquis Hunt or Marquis Frampton. At Count Seberg's islands in the south - he ruled a network of small proximate islets rather than a single sizeable one - or the Bartford county in the north. Or, if the Fanoss ships were willing to risk everything, little but distance and time would stop them driving headlong at Holfort's heartlands: the continent and the capital.