Sig - Monday morning. I stretched, and surveyed my surroundings. My childhood room, or rather, the guest room that used to be the room I had as a child. I didn’t think that I’d ever be staying here again even though my mother had consistently and warmly let me know that I always had a place at home in the letters she wrote. Unspoken, of course, was the prerequisite of obtaining my father’s approval. That unspoken requirement was the proverbial nail in the coffin that I assumed would forever keep me from sleeping under this roof again.
I knew weeks ago when we had last visited Dowery that I would receive a heartfelt welcome from mother and yet I had hesitated to visit because I was entirely unsure of how my father would react. I didn’t know if he would be happy to see me and offer a warm greeting or scoff and turn me away; I saw no reason to address the issue of reconciliation with him without some other item of merit to broach the subject.
During that last venture in to Dowery, we were merely errand boys for Hagan go Brách with little purpose. Now, weeks later, those tables have turned and here I sit, waking up under my father’s roof for the first time in over seven years filled with ambitions. I am unsure whether it was the distraction of the alchemical coach parked in front of the house or if I managed to create a spark of pride within my father when I presented the foundation of the company I had been working to build for the last several weeks. Regardless of which it was, here I am, and with his connections I am optimistic regarding the outcome of the legal dispute which Richter Holdings faces.
Sitting up in bed, I looked to the nightstand for the small pouch I had left laying there the night before. Briefly, I considered its contents and wondered how many more finger bones would be added to the one within and what that meant to me. The connection I maintained with the small scorpion I kept about my person had changed slightly when I had leaned on the haft of my spear and drove its point in to the orc’s throat. I couldn’t say what was different, just that it was. I also wasn’t where the compulsion to strip the flesh of the small finger bone and carry it with me came from. For whatever reason, it just felt as if I needed to do so.
I shook my head violently, trying to shake off both the lingering sleep and the path my thoughts had begun to follow. As I climbed out of the bed, I palmed the small pouch and stashed it in one of the pockets attached to my belt which had been dropped carelessly on the floor. After washing my face I began to dress and started accounting for what I needed to take care of in preparation for the next couple days. The agenda for today was one of fun, a bit more care free, I expected. Lunch with Nida was something worth looking forward to. I wondered if I could convince my father to let me take his alchemical coach for a drive to meet up with Nida in it. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, a dry chuckle escaped from my throat knowing that there wasn’t a chance of that happening. Perhaps tomorrow, if everything goes well with the princess’s advisor I’ll try and convince him to let me run the rudder for a couple streets.
I sat down on edge of the bed to pull on my boots. I was still at a bit of a loss at how helpful my father had been. It was his doing entirely that the meeting tomorrow was set to take place. Maybe this his way of making up for sending me off to live with Pop-pop, even though it hadn’t been, even remotely, a bad thing for me. More likely, he wants to know if I can handle the negotiations and to see if I have what it takes to keep my endeavors afloat. I didn’t return home to prove myself to my father, as his approval wasn’t something I craved or needed. Rather, it was something that at my core, I desired. I’ve always known that I’d welcome his approval if he ever offered it. If it happens to come as a byproduct of a successful outcome tomorrow, well, that’d just be a silver lining.
I smiled to myself as I gathered the rest of my belongings to head downstairs and to the waiting breakfast with my parents. I may not be a fortune teller, but I couldn’t feel any more like I’m only a card away from holding a hand full of aces.
