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She stood up, looking lovely, but a little tear streaked and nodded somberly.

“Yes, my lord.” Her voice was incredibly humble, which made Tor raise his eyebrows. He could do that at least. Good to know.

“Stop that. You're a Countess, and I'm not the “lord” of anything.” He gestured to the Count with a smile.

“By the way, um, it would be good if you didn't wake me up that way either Marv. Same goes for you Gemma. I knew you when you were shorter than me after all. It would be too weird.”

The girl grinned and nodded.

“Alright. You didn't mention Sir Patricia though…” The tone was naughty.

Tor mock glared at the side of Gemma's head. Trice just stood in the back and looked at the floor, not even bothering to try and cry, just looked hopeless.

Tor shrugged, “Yeah, well, she's my girlfriend, so the rules are different for her, aren't they?”

For some reason that got a pleased gasp, from Maria. The Count straightened and then bowed his head just a little, a smile on his face at the words. Trice didn't move. Not for a while.

“What? I…” She stopped.

That really was an annoying thing. Tor hated it, people just stopping like that. She what? Didn't like him that way? Wanted to have a duel in the hallway? Thought he smelled like rhubarb? It could be anything, and he wouldn't know, because he couldn't check her field to get at the information.

Finally Maria hugged her, “I knew he was too good a man to let my indiscretion cast to you on the wind love. I can take his scorn, it's no less than I deserve. But I'm so happy for you!”

Tor was confused. He was scorning people? How exactly? OK, he'd kind of flipped like a goon, going all combat rage on a good looking woman for doing things that most men would gladly pay a lot of gold for. There were circumstances though, not the least of which was that he'd been asleep when it happened. If people wanted clear thinking they needed to at least let him wake up before having to make decisions.

Plus, really, by the noble rules, well, he'd been in the wrong…

It hit him then.

He'd been the Doretta, acting like he had. God these stupid rules sucked. Back in Two Bends when you messed up you just had to say “Hey, sorry about that, I was wrong, we all good now?” or something similar. Here it was a big speech, with groveling and abasements. Tor steeled himself and closed his eyes, then slowly sank to the floor. It kind of hurt, his body not ready for it, and everyone took a step back, as if fearing he was passing out or something.

“I… Forgive me Maria. I acted rashly, and without grace. It was not my desire to make you feel scorned or lessened, I just didn't think, caring only for my own concerns at the moment. I cannot expect forgiveness, but please know that I did not wish you harm. If-”

For some reason she started crying when he spoke then. Tor didn't get it, not until she collected herself almost a minute later. Marvin had tears in his eyes too. Trice looked…

Pissed.

“Oh, get up Tor.” She snapped, nearly the way she used to when he was doing something particularly stupid. Like working himself nearly to death.

“We get it, you're perfect and the rest of us aren't. No need to rub it in.”

Tor rose, just by turning the Not-flyer back on and looked at everyone, the Wards had their heads down and Trice looked half ready to hit him… Gemma however just… laughed. Hard. Oh, she buried it behind a fist, face turning red, but it was real enough. After a second, when she didn't stop, he turned to her and shrugged.

“OK, what? Did I mess something up again? I just meant, you know, that I was sorry for hurting her feelings, that's all. I… Gods and little puppies, I don't know the rules yet at all, do I? I really thought getting married would make all this social stuff easier, but so far no joy on that score.” He turned to the Wards and Trice and sighed.

“If I gave offense… you know, if I did, screw it, will you? I know that you're all good people and like to think I am too. I didn't ever want bad feelings between us and we're friends, right? So, you know, “there are no debts between friends”. If I need to do more… Write it out for me or something?”

He was still too tired and weak for all this crud. Marvin stared for a minute, while Trice glared at him, still looking ready to kick his behind, possibly for real and Maria cried, if more softly. She had a knack for loud sobbing, but was keeping things pretty subdued.

Tor sighed.

“Alright, you can all explain what an evil and retarded bumpkin I am while I get something to eat. If I can find anything. I don't know when the closest meal is…”

Gemma did and told them that it was nearly breakfast time, or near enough no one in the kitchen would complain, being about nine already. She led them all to the dining room, the nice green and wood one that Tor liked and ran off to see to having it delivered for everyone. Tor sat across from Trice, the giant Count next to him, but cozily, not the ten feet apart that was supposed to be the tradition. No one ever did that though. Not at the palace. Not even people that might suddenly start killing each other.

The head of the table was left empty, which Tor figured was just due to the fact that none of them was really in charge there, it being the King’s place. That was shown to be wrong though, when both the King and Queen walked into the room shortly after, with his own wife, two Princesses, one who looked ready to give birth right then, a tall and wild looking bearded Count Peterson and Smythe of Westend.

At least Tor was just floating in place, so he didn't have to get up and move his chair. Oddly he got to stay, while everyone else stood and played royal musical chairs, trying to figure out who sat where based on rank and current favor. Really, he figured, he should have been near the far end of the table, in the poison seat, having neglected his duties for as long as he had. Being infirmed seemed to be getting him out of the worst of the trouble though. No one even suggested a beating. Not yet at least. Trice still glared at him and Maria still had moist eyes. Count Ward had recovered though and smiled at him, from his new place, most of the way down the table.

Maria was at the very end, signifying her as the most out of favor personally. Connie had told her to sit there herself, glaring a bit when she did it.

At least he had Ali sitting next to him now. That was a relief. She could explain what had happened maybe? Only, not, of course, during the meal. She smiled a lot though and covertly held his hand under the edge of the table. It was obvious what she did, but no one seemed bothered by it. Connie just looked at him, fear in her eyes, or possibly worry, and smiled a little weakly. Then, he looked horrible didn't he?

The food was good but he couldn't eat a lot yet. He just got full too fast. That would probably take a week or two to regulate back to normal. He felt better already though. People made small talk around him, which he just listened too.

Count Peterson looked at him suddenly and took a deep breath as soon as the last dish was taken off the table and drinks, brown combat rage sludge and for him a tumbler of clean water. It was chill, but not really cold. Good though, when he sipped it.

“So, um, Lord Baker, about the disposition of the Flight School, I was wondering if we could forgo rents on the place? It's for the war after all and it would be a hardship to work out who exactly had to pay for it at this late date.” The man didn't seem humble about it really, but he also didn't seem like he was kidding, it took a few blinks for Tor’s mind to catch up.

Right, he had the use of the Wildlands, didn't he. The flight school was there, as well as his old house. Still, Lord Baker? Tor smiled and shook his head, making the man scowl a little.

“Um, sure, there's obviously no rent on the land, as long as improvements are made I mean. I have some growing projects coming up, so if some of the men could help with that? Planting some seeds and arranging water flows. They could combine it with flight practice maybe? I don't want to take up all their time or anything, but if anyone is willing to help, that would be good. Kind of part of why I get the land.”