[OOM: Calderon Valley (Furies of Calderon)] Rewards - Amara
Tavi was still dressed in his work clothes when he returned to where the ceremony was taking place, and the slave Fade was still shuffling along beside him, expression vacant. His aunt seemed to be battling nervousness and exasperated pride all at once. Amara, on the other hand, was struggling to suppress her amusement--and she noted with even more internal laughter that Bernard wasn’t even trying, nor was the Marat horde master, who also regarded the boy with a kind of fond respect.
Several of the functionaries, on the other hand, were looking incredibly irritated, disapproving--even eying him with a little malice, and Amara only hoped that the boy wouldn’t be too intimidated. As he approached, he slowed a step for just a fraction of a second before raising his chin a little, face blank. Amara could see the uncertainty in a few subtle movements, but he was clearly trying to hide it.
For an inexperienced boy, she thought, he was doing incredibly well.
The First Lord, however, had an inscrutable expression as he watched Tavi’s progress. Tavi finally reached the edge of the crowd and stopped, and Amara allowed herself a faint smile. “Tavi of Bernardholt,” she said again, trying to hide the laughter in her tone. He shot her a quick, grateful glance as he stepped forward, sinking with surprising gracefulness to one knee, head bowed.
“I’m sorry I couldn‘t clean up, sir--sire,” he said, drawing more glares as he spoke without being spoken to--and she saw Gaius raise an eyebrow faintly. “I didn’t mean to make you wait so long, but I had to bring the sheep in.”
There was a faint, almost inaudible tremor in his voice, but he held it surprisingly steady, considering the circumstances. Amara was suddenly and forcefully reminded what a beautiful child he was as he raised his head to meet the First Lord‘s eyes. There was a kind of resolute bravery in his brilliant green eyes, and Amara felt inordinately proud of him for his nerve.
“Your sense of responsibility and devotion to your duties is commendable,” Gaius murmured, though his voice was clearly audible. “I’ve heard you’ve expressed concern for the inhabitants' livelihoods and well-being.”
Tavi swallowed a little, as Amara wondered exactly where he’d heard that. She hadn‘t mentioned it, although it made sense for the boy‘s character. “Yes, sire. After all of this, it’ll be a hard winter for all of us.”
“Then you should know there will be Crown aid for the families of the injured and lost, on a case by case basis,” the First Lord said, gesturing almost idly towards Bernard, “as determined by Count Calderon, of course.” Tavi‘s wry smile mirrored Gaius’ as he shot a surprised, but conspiratorial wink at his uncle. Bernard grinned and winked back--Amara tried not to roll her eyes. After a moment, Gaius added, “I understand, too, that you have long since wished to attend the Academy.”
There was a kind of well-contained nervousness in the boy’s eyes--and a strange expectation, as well, and the Cursor was suddenly very certain he already knew what was coming. How the crows did that happen? Did Gaius speak with him? “Yes, sire,” the boy almost whispered.
“You’ve done incredible things here, Tavi.”
“Everyone else did so much more,” he protested quietly. “But… I’m glad what I could do might’ve made at least a little difference.”
“Your resourcefulness and bravery promise you could and would do so again--and make far more of a difference than you believe you have here with your every action. To that end,” the First Lord continued, “you have my blessing and my patronage for your studies at the Academy in Alera Imperia. Only apply that same dedication there as you have here,” he added in a nearly cautionary tone, “and you will receive the support you need to serve your Realm to the full extent of your potential and gifts.”
Amara kept the rush of pride and joy she felt for the boy out of her face beyond a small smile that she permitted herself. Others made no such effort--young Sir Frederic looked puzzled but extremely pleased; the Marat Doroga just seemed amused and utterly unsurprised, as a younger Marat sulked behind him and glared at Tavi; Fade simply smiled his bright, oblivious smile; and Bernard and Isana’s faces were filled with fierce pride in their nephew.
(Though Isana was biting her lip, too, and her expression had an underlying panic--Amara supposed that, having raised him, seeing Gaius take responsibility for the boy’s life might be unnerving.)
Tavi’s face, too, flushed with pride as he raised his chin a little, his eyes glittering with fierce determination and joy. For a moment, Amara felt a sense of déjà vu and wondered where she’d seen that expression before. “Aye, sire,” he said, clarion-clear voice ringing a little with passionate resolve, startling in its strength for a boy his age. “Whatever I have to do, I will.”
Gaius’ expression seemed to soften very slightly as he smiled down at the boy. “I’m sure you will,” he said quietly. His rich, mellow voice was nearly gentle, and Amara was suddenly quite certain only she and Tavi had heard it at all.
Several of the functionaries, on the other hand, were looking incredibly irritated, disapproving--even eying him with a little malice, and Amara only hoped that the boy wouldn’t be too intimidated. As he approached, he slowed a step for just a fraction of a second before raising his chin a little, face blank. Amara could see the uncertainty in a few subtle movements, but he was clearly trying to hide it.
For an inexperienced boy, she thought, he was doing incredibly well.
The First Lord, however, had an inscrutable expression as he watched Tavi’s progress. Tavi finally reached the edge of the crowd and stopped, and Amara allowed herself a faint smile. “Tavi of Bernardholt,” she said again, trying to hide the laughter in her tone. He shot her a quick, grateful glance as he stepped forward, sinking with surprising gracefulness to one knee, head bowed.
“I’m sorry I couldn‘t clean up, sir--sire,” he said, drawing more glares as he spoke without being spoken to--and she saw Gaius raise an eyebrow faintly. “I didn’t mean to make you wait so long, but I had to bring the sheep in.”
There was a faint, almost inaudible tremor in his voice, but he held it surprisingly steady, considering the circumstances. Amara was suddenly and forcefully reminded what a beautiful child he was as he raised his head to meet the First Lord‘s eyes. There was a kind of resolute bravery in his brilliant green eyes, and Amara felt inordinately proud of him for his nerve.
“Your sense of responsibility and devotion to your duties is commendable,” Gaius murmured, though his voice was clearly audible. “I’ve heard you’ve expressed concern for the inhabitants' livelihoods and well-being.”
Tavi swallowed a little, as Amara wondered exactly where he’d heard that. She hadn‘t mentioned it, although it made sense for the boy‘s character. “Yes, sire. After all of this, it’ll be a hard winter for all of us.”
“Then you should know there will be Crown aid for the families of the injured and lost, on a case by case basis,” the First Lord said, gesturing almost idly towards Bernard, “as determined by Count Calderon, of course.” Tavi‘s wry smile mirrored Gaius’ as he shot a surprised, but conspiratorial wink at his uncle. Bernard grinned and winked back--Amara tried not to roll her eyes. After a moment, Gaius added, “I understand, too, that you have long since wished to attend the Academy.”
There was a kind of well-contained nervousness in the boy’s eyes--and a strange expectation, as well, and the Cursor was suddenly very certain he already knew what was coming. How the crows did that happen? Did Gaius speak with him? “Yes, sire,” the boy almost whispered.
“You’ve done incredible things here, Tavi.”
“Everyone else did so much more,” he protested quietly. “But… I’m glad what I could do might’ve made at least a little difference.”
“Your resourcefulness and bravery promise you could and would do so again--and make far more of a difference than you believe you have here with your every action. To that end,” the First Lord continued, “you have my blessing and my patronage for your studies at the Academy in Alera Imperia. Only apply that same dedication there as you have here,” he added in a nearly cautionary tone, “and you will receive the support you need to serve your Realm to the full extent of your potential and gifts.”
Amara kept the rush of pride and joy she felt for the boy out of her face beyond a small smile that she permitted herself. Others made no such effort--young Sir Frederic looked puzzled but extremely pleased; the Marat Doroga just seemed amused and utterly unsurprised, as a younger Marat sulked behind him and glared at Tavi; Fade simply smiled his bright, oblivious smile; and Bernard and Isana’s faces were filled with fierce pride in their nephew.
(Though Isana was biting her lip, too, and her expression had an underlying panic--Amara supposed that, having raised him, seeing Gaius take responsibility for the boy’s life might be unnerving.)
Tavi’s face, too, flushed with pride as he raised his chin a little, his eyes glittering with fierce determination and joy. For a moment, Amara felt a sense of déjà vu and wondered where she’d seen that expression before. “Aye, sire,” he said, clarion-clear voice ringing a little with passionate resolve, startling in its strength for a boy his age. “Whatever I have to do, I will.”
Gaius’ expression seemed to soften very slightly as he smiled down at the boy. “I’m sure you will,” he said quietly. His rich, mellow voice was nearly gentle, and Amara was suddenly quite certain only she and Tavi had heard it at all.