Chapter 477: The Faces We Recognise

Chapter 476: The Faces We Recognise

Evander glanced at Alistair, considering the question that had been put to him.

"What do you mean by that? In what manner, precisely, are the people of this town strange?"

Alistair regarded him with a steadiness that suggested he had been turning the matter over for some time. "You know precisely what I speak of. I do not believe for a moment that you have failed to notice."

He gestured vaguely towards the town behind them.

"Have you not observed that a good number of the people here bear a striking resemblance to certain other persons? Not merely in the general manner in which strangers may share similar features, but in such a way as makes one look twice, particularly when one is acquainted with the person to whom they bear such likeness."

Evander was silent a while, observing Alistair quietly.

"Highmoor is a territory that keeps very much to itself," he said at last. "Its people have little inclination to associate with those beyond their mountains, and they appear to find sufficient company in their own affairs. Were I to speak plainly, I should say that Highmoor is even more secretive than Blackmere."

Alistair’s eyes narrowed.

"And what, precisely, are you suggesting?"

"I believe I have already arrived at my conclusion," Evander replied. "How is it that a gentleman from a territory that scarcely associates with outsiders should recognise persons who bear a striking resemblance to others of the nobility? It is one thing to encounter a familiar face in the capital, where people of every territory gather, but quite another to find the same likeness in a town whose inhabitants appear to possess little knowledge of the world beyond their own borders."

Alistair considered him before giving a small shake of his head.

"Your reasoning is not entirely without merit, but you appear to have overlooked something. Highmoor may be secretive, yet it is still obliged to attend to official matters. Its representatives travel to the capital with some regularity, and its nobles are not altogether absent from gatherings where those of other territories are present."

He paused, then added, "Indeed, I should say Highmoor is considerably less secretive than Blackmere in that regard. Your own territory has acquired a reputation for avoiding official engagements whenever circumstances permit. There are occasions when I wonder whether certain members of the nobility would recognise you at all, were they to encounter you beyond your own lands. Though, seeing that you have now attended the competition, and your face is broadcast for all to see, that is no longer a difficulty, for most must now know you."

Evander said nothing to that.

"And surely," Alistair continued, "you cannot suppose that one such as myself should fail to perceive when persons bear a striking likeness to certain others of the nobility?"

Evander was quiet a while. Then he nodded slowly.

"I noticed it too," he admitted. "The resemblance. It is why I intend to look into this town more thoroughly."

"Very few persons know of Gallowshill. Fewer still know anything of substance concerning it. Were one to ask what is known of the place, the answers should be much the same: it is a farming village, its inhabitants are hostile towards the nobility, and a canal runs through its territory. Beyond that, there is remarkably little information to be had," Evander said. "No one appears to know how this town came to exist in this particular spot, why it flourished here rather than elsewhere, or why its people should bear such curious resemblances to others we have encountered."

"That is precisely why I wished to speak with you," Alistair said.

"Why not Lucian?" Evander asked thoughtfully. "If there is one person who holds information upon the nobility, it is he."

Alistair looked away. There was a faraway quality to his gaze that had not been there before, and his voice, when he spoke, was quieter.

"Lucian is occupied."

Evander gave him a long look, and did not require much time to understand precisely what Alistair had told him.

"Though Lucian is occupied now," he said, "what of later?"

"I did consider speaking with him later," Alistair said. "As you say, he may possess considerably more information upon the matter than either of us. It is entirely possible he could furnish an account of the noble families, their histories, and their connections, that would take me a considerable length of time to assemble for myself. But given that he is occupied... I may not find the courage to speak with him until the morrow."

He paused, then added softly:

"I cannot wait so long as that, particularly because I have no wish to hinder any progress in Her Highness’s design. I want to be certain she wins this particular phase, and I know well enough that knowledge is power."

Evander nodded slowly.

"Until the power becomes too much to bear," he said. "But I understand. Once I have gathered what information I can, I shall come to you. And to Lucian as well."

Alistair nodded.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The wind stirred the grass at their feet, and somewhere in the distance a bird called out, its voice echoing faintly across the empty fields.

Then Alistair spoke again, his voice still soft.

"Do you not fear that some other may take Her Highness from you?"

Evander tilted his head.

"Take her from me?" he repeated, regarding Alistair with a faint crease between his brows. "I do not believe I understand your meaning. Her Highness is no possession, to be taken from one man and given to another."

Alistair looked away.

"I made a mistake," he said. "Perhaps I am simply a little out of sorts. Her Highness is no property, you are right in that. But what if Her Highness chooses neither of us?"

He drew a slow breath before continuing.

"What if we were never even considered, from the very beginning, as those who might win her heart?"