Not at all.
He might as well, run through the streets screaming the whole thing out at this rate. At least his friends went silent then, both with wide, frightened looking eyes. Tor couldn't even reassure them or anything, or explain what he'd been thinking at the time. Anything he said would make him look guilty. Mainly because he was. Amazing how that worked.
That led to his friends hardly speaking to him at all for the next week, preferring to ride in silence. None of the girls found his bed at all, and he just stopped asking. They didn't want a murderer, and who could blame them? Tor didn't regret what he'd done, not for a half instant even when he lay alone at night wondering if anyone could have ever really loved a thing like him? Probably not. They'd all just been being polite and that was before they knew what he really was.
Slowly Tor withdrew as well, not wanting to bother anyone, he started just building device after device, reading and practicing violin. He pushed too hard on building he knew. Burks had cautioned him to keep to one or two novel builds per month. Tor was doing that each day. His field held well though. Weeks passed that way, and by the time they reached the mountain villa he'd pretty much stopped talking at all. There was no reason to any more. Karina and Ali just glared at him and Varley gave him baffled and silent looks that seemed to probe his very soul, her blue eyes searching his brown for… something. Maybe to see if he was really a person at all?
Rolph tried to talk to him, and would spend time with him, just sitting and reading himself, not bothering to say anything after a while, but not leaving Tor alone either.
He kept to his exercises and tried to actually come up with ways to improve, reading his opponents fields while he fought, learning what subtle sense of things meant what, how to use the early warning to get out of the way or even block, how to counter with attacks instantly. It was harder with a weapon than hands and feet, until he learned to accept the practice wand, what looked like a big wooden kitchen knife, as a part of his own information. Then it went better. He still wasn't good, far from it, but he started to not be beaten as badly each day by the Royal Guards, and while they made suggestions they came slightly less often.
The place they were to stay looked like a huge stone keep, three stories high and a little worn on the outside, the roof sloped sharply and the stone looking like moss had grown on it during the relatively warmer summer. It was a nice enough looking thing, not rich, except for its size, but that could be forgiven. Especially since it was all fake.
It was one of the newer type of magical houses he'd made himself. The field screamed at him as they rode up, calling to him and saying “remember me?” which of course, he did. It was a part of him after all. All his devices were really, especially the complex ones like this. No one else seemed impressed with it, but that was probably the idea, a place that looked nice enough for these carriages to be out front, but not so nice that all the royal children would be stored there for safe keeping. It was a good plan.
Tor climbed out, with Ali next to him. She held his hand, but that was probably just a perfunctory thing, to make it look like she still loved him, even though she was mad that he wouldn't help make her a murderer too. Karina and Rolph just shrugged when they saw the place, as if it was what they expected, more or less and Varley grinned.
“There will be snow here, won't there? I've never really seen snow except in the ice garden you made mother Tor. Do you think it will get deep?” She seemed pleased with the idea.
He nodded.
“Yeah. This is up a bit in the mountains, I don't know the seasons here, but it's cold, even if we don't feel it. Look at our breath in the air, it looks like it's freezing already. Little crystals in the air, falling gently to the frozen ground below…” His voice sounded sad to his ears, not meaning to, he forced a smile, hoping it would look genuine.
“We can build snow people and forts if you want, once it falls.”
Ali clapped her hands and the others all smiled warmly at her action, even some of the guards. They seemed to like her and had kind of adopted her as a mascot. For that matter they even seemed to like Tor well enough, even Veren, now that he didn't have to kick Tor's butt for whatever reason he'd had. Apparently it was enough to simply beat him, and the man could let the disagreement about where Karina was going slip away. Then, this wasn't the Lairdgren School and there didn't seem to be a lot of people around either.
Only one it looked like.
A familiar black haired man, face cleaned of the stupid facial hair that Tor had always associated with him, hair short and for the first time ever, not covered with oil or grease. The clothing was nice, warm and plain looking, a thick padded brown jacket over brown trousers. The hands had thick gloves as well and on his feet were warm looking boots of unpolished tan leather.
Dorgal Sorvee.
Whee. Tor couldn't help the thought. They might be business partners now, and had even agreed to be friends, but in his current state all Tor could remember was how often the boy had hassled him in school. Bullied really. He was about six foot-two and lean, and annoyingly had a warm and friendly smile on his face when he saw them all.
“Welcome!” He cried out.
Happily too.
The bastard.
Tor seriously just considered leaving. The King and Queen had set him up to spend his “vacation” first in the back of a carriage, something he hated and everyone knew he despised, now he was being dumped on Dorgal freaking Sorvee? What had he done to the royals to deserve this anyway?
Tor nodded, trying to make himself smile. It was hard and seemed false, which Dorgal didn't miss, but didn't mention either. Rolph gave the boy, a man now, a warm hug and so did the others. Tor didn't move forward for one, and even though he seemed concerned Dorgal kept his distance.
“I, um, was asked by the King to provide a place for you to stay that would be pleasant but not too obvious, I hope this will serve? Let me show you all to your rooms, then I'll give you a tour of the place?” His voice was chipper, pleasant and even kind, which all served to piss Tor off a little.
It wasn't fair of him he knew. Dorgal hadn't made him into what he was. Life and his birth had. Lara Gray and Burks Green had. But not this guy. Taking his anger and sadness out on him would be cruel. Tor just nodded and waited for whatever else would come.
The inside was nice, much nicer than the outside, done to looked like a rustic cabin, but one that the King might use while pretending to be a rough and ready huntsman. There was a lot of exposed wood and soft furniture covered in leather, glowing lights on the ceilings and fires lit in their place. “Guide-fires, not real wood.” Dorgal said cheerfully.
“A good seller. The colors a little too red, but for a novice work it shows great promise, don't you think?” The question was directed at Tor directly, but seemed friendly enough so Tor nodded.
It really was true after all.
Rolph chuckled.
“Dorg, Guide is one of Tor's protegees. He has about six of them. Most of the good new work coming out of Lairdgren is from one of them right now, I'd wager. Brilliant lot of kids.”
“Oh? Even Lyn Cooper? Her tanning device is huge. It would explain why she let me have ten to sell when she found out we're friends then. Great girl. I was thinking of sending a go-between actually. Little young yet, but even if she said no, it wouldn't hurt to build a bridge there, don't you think? She could end up the next Tor in time…” The grin he gave Tor was sly and a little needling.
That was his way though, so Tor just stuck his tongue out.
“Better, Sorvee. She'll end up better than me. They all will be. You'd be lucky to snag her this young, before everyone else learns what she's really worth.” Not that it would be hard to be better than him.