Tor didn't like the thought and decided to go and clear the man as soon as he and Trice picked up Smythe in the morning. It was a heinous thought and he'd probably hate Tor from then on, just for asking. Still, he had dated Lilli, which meant someone should ask about that, right? Maybe Smythe already had? That would be better. Tor decided to just ask him and hope that was the case.
By morning he was pretty well convinced that he was wrong and that internal Daria Serge was just as bitchy and unhelpful and the real one had been. Trying to make him go around acting all mean and stuff. That made sense. The stupid, evil, dead girl was just screwing with him.
It was a fight to get out of bed, Tor had to wake up both girls to help him up, his body had nearly frozen in pain, locking up completely. It wouldn't have been so bad, but he'd left his Not-flyer off. Ali looked worried, almost scared, but Trice just shook her head, brown and light blond fuzz flying a little, still looking sleepy headed like a little kid. Sober though. Neither girl had gone to their cups the night before, even in celebration of the war ending. That was a good thing. Especially since Trice had to work.
She gave him a long suffering look and shook her head at him.
“You know, you could call in sick. If you can't move out of bed alone, no one expects you to go and save the kingdom. It's a rule.”
He shook his head, which ached at the base of his skull.
“What and have Smythe think I'm easy prey? No thanks. I'll just soak in a hot tub for a while and stretch for a bit. I'll be fine.” He grinned himself and winked at Ali.
“Just, you know, could you hand me that amulet there on the night stand?”
It was three whole feet away after all. Three long and pain filled feet. Trice climbed over him and got it for him, even putting in place. But only after turning her own arm on. She mainly slept with it off for some reason.
The whole morning took a lot longer than Tor had thought it would, first near two hours to warm up and get ready for the day himself, then, after flying his nice purple carriage into the palace complex, nearly two hours to find Smythe. He was sober of course, the man didn't drink at all, but he was in a side room, questioning Austrans already. Tor hobbled in, then decided to float, hoping it would look more impressive to the foreign agents. He half expected to find the older man torturing someone, but instead they were just eating a late breakfast and sitting at a table, in the guest house.
“Lord Baker! Baronetta Morgan. Sorry to have missed our meeting place, but these individuals came to me early this morning. Apparently they're our first batch of Austran agents? In this case the ones that worked here in the palace, so they came to me instead of going to your dwelling as ordered. It seems they didn't think they'd survive that for some reason?” He sounded amused by that at least.
Tor settled in next to the table and looked at who all was there, nodding. Yeah, he could see them being a little scared. For instance, though he didn't know the name, one of the men was a familiar servant from the kitchens, a baker to be exact. The man wasn't huge by noble standards, but was of a look to fit there, about six foot tall, with short cut brown hair and just enough extra weight that he didn't look like a warrior or soldier. Nearly perfect for the role he was playing.
Next to him sat a boy so young that Tor nearly didn't recognize him at all. Kenner Thorgood? The boy winced when Tor stared at him for a minute but didn't speak.
The last man was the one that would have caused problems though. Tor nearly killed him on the spot without even thinking about it.
Quavel.
The Queen’s butler. Trice didn't recognize him at first, but Tor did.
“Seriously?” Was all he said, his voice nearly silent.
The man had served for decades in the palace. He'd touched almost every plate of food that the Queen had eaten for years himself. He'd stood behind her at every function in the palace the whole time and…
He touched her.
Not just once or twice but thousands, millions, of times. Possibly more than the King himself. It was his job. That an agent of anyone had gotten that close was… Impossible. Or it should have been at least.
The man had gray hair, shot with isolated bits of black, and was old. Not elderly, but in his fifties at least, and not the young looking fifty of a noble, but the hard lived one of a servant. He wore his normal uniform, black and green in a light material that looked comfortable enough. Tor nodded slowly at all of them.
“I… see. Well.” He turned to Smythe. “Have they been cleared of the murders?”
“Indeed, first thing I did. I also checked to make certain no other Austran agents were within the walls here. If there are, these three don't know about it. Really, I was just debating smuggling them out of the kingdom to tell you the truth. I suppose we could forgive the boy, he's older than he looks but still only fifteen. The others are a bit close however. I'm not certain how the King will react. We did promise their safety, but who knew…” The man shrugged and Trice fingered her pocket menacingly.
“No freaking doubt. Still, it's not our call, is it?” She glanced at the men hard, like they might die at any moment.
Tor tilted his head.
“Wait, Ken, you're fifteen? You look maybe ten. Some kind of treatment? Medical?”
“Nano injection sir. Permanently stunts the growth though, I was probably a year or two from being recalled anyway. It becomes kind of obvious without specific medical procedures to hold the bone structure in place. It pays well though and that's the important thing.” He grinned charmingly, his accent going to a thick Austran one instead of the fake thing he'd used every other time they'd spoken.
Tor shook his head, and figured he'd be doing that a lot for a while. Maybe forever.
Finally he turned to Trice and Smythe and sighed.
“Trice arrange transport for them? To my house first. Counselor Smythe… not to be heavy handed, but their safety is mine to see too. I promised Brown. That said, we need to see the King and Queen. Hopefully this won't require us to go back to war.” He spun on Quavel and nearly punched the man, who luckily was out of arms reach, so he just growled instead.
“You may have done your job too well.”
Stupid spies.
It took a while to get things set up but an hour later the royals, all of them, were sitting in throne like chairs in the King’s main meeting hall, with the spies standing in front of them. Kenner waved at Varley, who was holding a small child in her arms.
“You had the baby?” Tor jogged over to her, painfully, forgetting decorum for a minute. “Boy or girl?” He said sweetly, then made little cooing noises which got everyone else to chuckle after a moment.
“Girl. We named her Alison Anne. I was going to name her after you, but “Torrentia” was just too much of a mouthful. Hope you don't mind?” She grinned tiredly when she said it, no doubt at his antics and little noises made at the baby.
“Good plan. That's a horrible name.”
Stepping back Tor forced a bow, which hurt, towards each of the seated people. Then he gestured at the spies and sighed.
“We can't kill them. It's part of the deal. But I think Quavel here at least wants to say something.” It was a mean thing to do, but if the man couldn't get himself out of this, he deserved to be locked up, or beaten, whatever Connie could come up with.
The man just smiled and bowed smoothly, as if the whole thing were planned.
“I just wanted to say that, spy or not, it has been my honor to serve mum. You are a truly worthy person and a good soul.”
Connie at least didn't look too angry, instead she just looked, slightly sad.
“Ah. It saddens me to see you leave.” Her tone was even polite.
Tor blinked.
Well, that was more gentle than he'd expected, wasn't it? It was the others turn then and each of them surprised him a bit too. Karina got a wink from the baker, who said nothing and Kenner bowed slowly and walked over to Varley, making the Royal guard arrayed through the room go stiff.