The False Prince (The Ascendance Trilogy #1)(10)
“I hardly dare ask whether any of you have been taught your manners and other social graces.”
“I have, a little,” Tobias said.
Roden actually laughed at Conner’s question, though he quickly corrected himself. “Master Conner, make me into a gentleman. I’ll learn.”
“You will all learn,” Conner said. “And at the end of the next two weeks, I intend to make each of you into a gentleman, so flawless in your learning, you could pass as a noble before the king himself.”
“We’re going to see the king?” I asked.
Conner shook his head. “I didn’t say that. Only that you could stand in front of him and make him believe you are a noble.”
Roden looked over at me and smiled. I didn’t share his enthusiasm.
“Two weeks?” I asked. “What’s the hurry?”
Conner locked eyes with me. “Because that’s when the boy I choose will be tested.”
Tobias cleared his throat, and then asked, “What happens to the other two boys, sir? The two boys who you don’t choose?”
Conner looked at each one of us before answering. When he spoke, he only said, “Two weeks, boys. Pray you are the one I choose.”
Then he turned his back to us and we continued riding.
Tobias, Roden, and I looked at one another. Cregan read the unspoken conversation and chuckled. Roden seemed a little more pale again. Tobias lost any expression on his face whatsoever, as if he’d turned to stone. Undoubtedly, we were all remembering how casually Conner had ordered Latamer’s death, and then had quickly justified it based on the higher moral status of his plan.
He would choose his winner in two weeks, and most likely the other two boys would follow Latamer’s fate at the same time.
It was late afternoon when our wagon pulled up to a large estate several miles outside the town of Tithio. An engraved wooden sign at the entrance identified this as Conner’s home. It rose two stories above the ground with a partial third floor arching over the center of the house. The roof was nearly flat and bordered by a low parapet. I wondered if any stairways led up to the rooftop for what was certain to be an impressive view of Conner’s extensive grounds. The building was made of thick tan bricks and cut stone. This alone was impressive, since it didn’t look like there were any quarries in this region of Carthya, meaning the rocks would have had to come from some distance away. Veins of a thin ledge ran between the first and second floor. I counted nearly twenty windows just in the front of the house. The orphanage in Carchar didn’t have a single window.
Conner stood and gestured toward the estate. “Welcome to my home, boys. I call it Farthenwood. It was my father’s home and the home of my childhood. I know its every secret and dearly love to come here whenever I can get away from the king’s business in Drylliad. This will be your home as well for the next two weeks. I have arranged everything in advance of our arrival. I’m sure you have many questions, but we have other business first.”
A line of servants had assembled in front of the wagon. A few quickly took control of the horses and one helped Conner out of the wagon, bowing to him afterward as if he were a royal.
Cregan gestured to us to leave the wagon, and when we did, Conner presented us each with a servant. “Follow your man to a warm bath and a change of clean clothes.” He cast an eye on me. “Some of you require more scrubbing than usual, so stay in the bath as long as you must. Once you are presentable, you may join me for a hot supper that I suspect will be the finest meal any of you have ever eaten.”
Roden and Tobias followed their servants into the estate. I followed mine behind them as we entered Farthenwood. The entry was massive and well lit by windows and a large chandelier directly above us. The plaster walls were decorated with beautiful murals of countryside scenes. A tapestry hanging near me depicted dozens of names and faces. Probably Conner’s family tree.
“What’s your name?” I asked the servant.
He hesitated at first as if he wasn’t sure whether he should answer, and then said, “Errol, sir.” Errol looked like the kind of young man who might never grow enough facial hair to actually require a shave. He had boyish features and a bit of curl in his light blond hair. I suspected that if the fables about the existence of elves were true, Errol would turn out to be one of them.
“I’m Sage. My companions on this trip will assure you I am no ‘sir.’ Conner seems to think he owns me too, which makes me a servant much like you. So let’s keep everything on a first-name basis.”
“Forgive me, but I’ve been instructed to call you ‘sir,’” Errol said. “So you should get used to hearing it.”
I tugged on the rag that served as my shirt. My entire fist could easily have fit through a tear in the fabric near my hip. “With me dressed this way? How can you call me that without laughing?”
Errol glanced sideways at me and smiled crookedly. “It isn’t easy … sir.”
When I asked, Errol told me that the rooms off to the left were for a few of the choice servants, such as Mott and Cregan. They also housed a kitchen and other work areas. To the right were rooms for other servants, which several of them shared. I figured Errol’s was one of those rooms. A grand staircase rose up from the center of the entry. It was lined with tall beeswax candles and was carpeted in a weave so fine I bent down and ran my fingers over it.